They were standing in the front of the class while the students, or MIPs – according to the DH policy all students were Most Important Persons, and should be treated as such – entered the classroom. They were all searched thoroughly at the entrance of the room for weapons or phones, although neither of the twins could guess how they should be able to get hold of weapons in DH.
When everyone had taken their usual seat and a muscular, imposing guard had taken his position in a corner, Professor Tugen locked the door and went to front of her class.
"Good morning children."
"Good morning Miss Tugen." the class spoke in a bored unison. The brothers shared a look.
"Today we're going to meet two new MIPs in our class. Give a warm, nice, Dorothy Hills welcome to our new special guests: Sam and Caine Temple!"
Twenty-two mounds stayed shut. Forty-four eyes gazed at them. One person Sam vaguely recognized.
Lance.
Of course. All people who had committed grievous bodily harm or murder, freaks or not.
And Lance had, with some friends who were now surely also somewhere in this building, tried to hang Hunter, beating him so badly in the process he had gotten permanent brain damage. That would fall under grievous bodily harm, no doubt.
He hoped the Human Crew had been dissolved by now, as the mutants didn't have their powers anymore.
"They come from Perdido Beach, where, unfortunately, they went astray due to the pressures of the anomaly and couldn't restrain their inner beast anymore." Miss Tugen sent them a pitying look over her shoulder. Sam figured his brother's inner beast must be good, old Darkness. Funny, he'd actually thought Caine had learned to restrain it by now – now that it's dead… "But that's all right!" she obnoxiously continued, "We all have an inner beast, deep inside ourselves! We will help you control the beast again! Yes, that's important, for all you Perdido survivors: don't let the beast control you, but control the beast!"
Caine was getting to loath Miss Tugen more with each word. Yeah, sure, that had been the problem. The beast. Just control the beast and everything will be fine again.
No. It would never be fine again. They would carry the memories for the miserable remains of their lives. People had died. She couldn't just wipe that away; people had died by his hand!
"But I'm sure you two will overcome those flaws over time, you seem like two strong, willful people to me. Oh, I'm so stupid, I nearly forgot to tell the class you are twins! We haven't had the honor to welcome twins in Dorothy Hills since '48! Well, I'm itching to make a new start with you, aren't we all?"
The class mumbled an unenthusiastic response before Sam and Caine were allowed to take a seat. Each pair of eyes followed them closely as they walked forward, like they were some kind of rare, dangerous species. Sam only just intercepted Lance's furious glare before he sat down.
The lesson that followed, maths, was mostly filled with speeches of Miss Tugen on how good people they all were, and how well they would fit in society if they controlled their inner beast, if they saw how well the modern American society took care of its people (huh-huh), if they opened their eyes for the real world and much, much more such joyful, sugarly, flowerly syrup that had no use whatsoever in their hard, cold reality.
"Sam. That kid that's looking at us, who's that?" Caine whispered from his side, "Wasn't he one of your lot?" Sam glanced behind him. Lance was still trying to stare them to death.
"His name is Lance. He is not exactly one of 'my lot', he was with the Human Crew, they hated me actually."
Caine looked more amused than anything. "Those brainless punks trying to conquer mutants with honk ball bats? I was under the impression you killed them all."
Sam gave him an annoyed look.
"Let me rephrase: are there actually still people alive of the Human Crew?"
"I know Zil is still around, but I'm not sure about the rest. They kept a lower profile once they realized they couldn't really do anything." Caine nodded in thought.
A minute later a ball of crumpled paper fell on Sam's head. He picked it up and unfolded it.
AMAM
(All Moofs Are Murderers)
Caine took a look at the paper. "Give it me for a sec."
He grabbed it out of Sam's hands, scribbled something down and showed it to him.
AMAM
(All Moofs Are Murders)
True. And we're gonna murder you.
"Caine, you can't just threat someone with murder."
"Nonsense, this is just the way to handle this. Believe me, I've got experience." He turned around and quickly threw the paper back to Lance. He read it, looked shocked at first, then started writing furiously.
AMAM
(All Moofs Are Murderers)
True. And we're gonna murder you.
With what powers? Do you really think I'm stupid enough to believe they would let you live if you still had your powers?
Caine's reply was straight to the point: Yes. If I don't have any powers I'm not a moof. Moron.
The piece of paper wasn't thrown back.
When the lesson had come to an end and everyone stood up from their seats to be led to the next classroom, English, a sudden upheaval arose from the back of the room. A small group of students held Lance down against his table while one fierce looking girl was yelling at him.
"You won't fool me, evil sorcerer. God will protect me from all your sinful words…"
"Please, stop! They're the sorcerers, not me. I'm normal, I swear! I can't do anything!"
Then the guard interfered quickly and forced them of Lance's back. As the commotion died out, Lance and the girl both sent some glances Sam's way, who got the uneasy feeling this had somehow something to do with him. He didn't look forward to find out.
When they arrived in the English class Sam dragged Caine directly as far as possible in the back, away from the girl who had attacked Lance. Caine sat down without noticing, or without giving any remarks at least.
Apart from some whispers and sideway glances, no one seemed to be very interested in them anymore, and Sam furiously hoped they would leave them. Those hopes were relentlessly crushed when a tall blond boy and a much smaller, dark haired one saw them, and took the table right in front of them. They wanted something of them, that was for sure. Only the question was: What?
"So. You're the new guys, Sam Temple and Caine Soren, isn't it?"
"Actually, it's Caine Temple now." Sam shivered from the venom in Caine's voice, but he couldn't blame him. The previous lesson must have been awful for Caine's ego, as even Sam felt belittled by Miss Tugen's demeanor to them. Like he was some retarded child. While he had risked his life, several times, saving the butts of others. He was a hero, for heaven's sake!
"Oh, yes, of course." The tall guy, the one who was speaking, had a strong, foreign accent Sam didn't recognize. He pronounced everything in a weird, open, too clear way and his voice seemed strangely higher pitched, but he didn't have a high voice.
"Anyway, I wanted to warn you for some people in this school." Caine frowned his brows while Sam was thinking the same thing: Was this a threat? "People have seen you on TV, they don't like you. They... uhm..."
The bald English teacher locked the door. "Well, anyway, they don't like you. Stay away from them." He quickly spun around to respond to the "Good morning" of Mister Alostum.
But Caine wouldn't leave it at that. As soon as Mister Alostum had started his lesson he began hissing to the boy. "What do you mean, 'Stay away from them.'!? Who do you think you are, we ruled the FAYZ! We certainly can handle you and your little friend not liking us!"
"No, no, no, no, no, no, no! I don't have a problem with you. I like you! I was talking about Cathy and Bastian and their gangs!"
"What's with them?" "Cathy is very religious, you know, she thinks the FAYZ was a punishment from God because you're sinners or you have made a pact with the devil or something like that. She has been on Lance the past months. Bullying him, I mean. But also other people from other classes. Bastian is one of the leaders of the neo-Nazis on this school. Really scary. Hates Perdido people too. Many others are or scared of you or scared of the gangs, so they won't help you. So..."
"It is true," confirmed the small guy, who had a clear Italian accent, "they don't like the people from Perdido Beach. My name is Marco di Parcella, by the way, I'm from Italy. His name is Yourian Elbering. He's from Holland."
"Oh, sorry. I totally forgot to introduce myself. Yes, I'm Jurrian Helbering indeed. I come from Deventer, a town in Overijsel, middle-east Netherlands. Nice to meet you."
Caine awkwardly shook the hand of the friendly smiling Dutchman. "Your name is yuh-ree-ahn?" "Yeah, that's about it."
"Mister Helbering, would you please stop distracting the new students!?"
"Of course." he answered coolly. It was obvious he didn't particularly like the bald teacher.
"You haven't paid much attention the last few minutes, Mister Helbering, I wonder why? You're years behind the others! Don't you understand that, in order to rehabilitate, you must speak at least acceptable English!?"
"That depends on it." "That depends on what!?"
"On several things, actually. There are several problems with your... argumentation, is that the right word? At first, for example-" "You say FIRST for example!" "AT first, for example, I dubt-" "Doubt!" "-whether I need to rehabi-li-ate. Actually, I did perfectly fine, before I came here. Okay, I had a certain lack of interest in school, but I had many good friends, no problems with my family, a good relationship with my boss and colleagues, I think I do fine in the outside world. Secondly, I dubt, I mean doubt, that I need to speak English AT ALL to go back, TO THE NETHERLANDS! This is an INTERNATIONAL SCHOOL, no IMMIGRATION CENTRE! For god's sake... I mean: GODVERDOMME!"
Sam saw Mister Alostum was fuming. "Listen, young man, you can count yourself lucky to be in this school." Jurrian huffed. "If it wasn't for us and for your nice parents, you would be rotting away in a prison now, and it would be all your fault. Be grateful you get a chance here to better yourself and leave this place with a graduation, see this as an opportunity! You are now in this school, and for this school you need a certain level of English to graduate, and since your English is currently of the level of a five-year-old, pay attention!" Mister Alostum whipped around and stepped to the board, continuing his lessons.
"And you're telling us how to behave at this school." Caine sneered.
"I barely spoke any English when I arrived, he shouldn't complain. He just doesn't like me because he can't pronounce my name, but I can't pronounce his, so we're quite."
"But he can give you detention." were Marco's wise words.
"Yeah, you're right." Jurrian sighed. "Can you come to the canteen otherwise? In the break after this lesson. Then we can talk further, okay? You see, right now Mister Alostum looks at me like he's going to eat me for lunch, so I better shut up." He responded said mad teacher's look with a quasi-well-meaning smile.
"Would you be so kind to open your book on page 142 now, Mister Helbering?"
"With pleasure, Mister Alostum!"
So the remaining minutes Jurrian spent attending the lesson, despite Caine's continuous attempts to get him talking again: he considered it not worth the trouble. For now, Caine had to wait till the break.