M'gann's classroom, unlike Wallace's lecture hall, was open floor with soft navy blue carpeting and a large, circular rug in the image of the Justice League's famous emblem. The only similarities between the two rooms were the existence of a desk towards the back of a room, a pair of whiteboards and markers, a projector screen (which she immediately pulled down with her telekinesis), and a mounted ceiling projector (which she turned on to allow it to warm up). While it was doing that, she took out her laptop from her bag and turned it on, booting it up.
As she was doing that, her students filed into the room one by one. The moment all seven students were inside the room, she gestured them to the rug and told them to seat themselves in a circle. Once they were all settled in, she seated herself between Greta and Courtney and observed them all for a moment, watching them fidget under her gaze.
For this class, M'gann had elected to use her human guise instead of her Miss Martian form. While her students were used to strange appearances, they were all dressed in civvies, so it was only fair if she did the same. Besides, it wasn't like they were going to be doing any combat training or anything of the sort. They would have plenty of that in the next two following days.
"Well, welcome to my class," she began once she was certain she had everyone's attention, "If you don't know my name already, it's M'gann M'orzz, though you may just call me M'gann. My field name is Miss Martian, and I guess you can consider me the successor of my Uncle J'onn, or Martian Manhunter. I will be the one helping you develop your teamwork."
"Now, there are several different ways to develop teamwork for any variety tasks — though typically, the usual ways are either through training or bonding. Oftentimes, it's both. As you've already begun training together under your other teachers in your other classes, you will primarily spend your time with me bonding with each other and getting to know one another better."
"Let me explain one thing to you, though: many believe that the key to a successful team is being able to define and separate the realms of professional and personal. This is only true an extent, for the simple reality that it's impossible to do completely," M'gann swept her gaze across the teenagers again, feeling their rapt attention with a light touch of her powers. "Despite what some of your mentors may say, there's always going to be spillover — your personal life can and will bleed into your professional life, and vice versa. Trying to prevent that will only cause you problems down the line. While I can't delve into why — that is under the purview of Kyle Rayner's class — I can teach you how to work around this, at least when it comes to each other."
"Hence, your goal with me is not just to get to know each other, but to also learn how to respect whatever differences you may have with one another both now and in the future, no matter how big or how small. By doing this, those differences and personal issues are much less likely to interfere with your work in the field. That is why we will also be having debates over different topics, both trivial and not-so-trivial, in addition to standard bonding activities."
That said, she used her telekinesis to lift a sheaf of papers from her bag, which had settled on a desk towards the back of the room. She floated one down to each of her students, only letting go when they had a firm grasp on the parchment. She could see the brief flashes of surprise on each face, and resisted the urge to smirk.
The sheet was a questionnaire of around three or so pages, printed front and back. The questions on it ranged from the innocuous, like full names and favorite colors, to the invasive: tragic moments in each person's life, why they chose to become a superhero, etc. Certainly something not to be left around in case of compromising their identities.
"This is a questionnaire that each of you are required to fill out completely. However, not immediately," M'gann explained, to their confusion. "Instead, you're going to fill all the questions you feel comfortable answering out loud in front of everyone here, right now. Later on in the coming weeks, as you grow more comfortable with each other, you'll start filling in the rest."
"Some of you might think that may never happen — especially you, Boy Wonder," the girls giggled at the blushing Tim, "but you'll soon learn that you're wrong. With the amount of time all of you be spending together in the coming months, you'll find you'll be much more comfortable sharing your more personal secrets later on than you do now. Once everyone is done filling out their forms, which I will know, because I always do, you're going to write out a full introductory speech using that information, and deliver it out loud to everyone when the time comes."
"Let me make this clear to all of you, though — you are not allowed to share whatever you wrote on your questionnaire with anyone else until it's time to give your speech, so don't think about collaborating together to delay the assignment indefinitely. If you try, then what Donna had you do yesterday will look like a cakewalk compared to the punishment I'll levy on all of you." Her class winced upon hearing that, and M'gann could've sworn she heard someone wimper.
She glanced at Jason's younger sister, the young image of her friend. "The sole exception is you, Cass. I understand you're still struggling with your reading and writing right now, so if you wish for help in writing your responses — or prefer another method of answering them, such as recording them in video — you are allowed to do so. Just not with anyone in this room."
Cass blinked upon hearing that, but slowly nodded. M'gann imagined that Stephanie would be happy to help with that, and tried not to let the pang of pain at the thought overwhelm her. She had yet to see Stephanie, after all, though hopefully the younger version of her friend would be able to complete her training soon so she could join everyone here.
With that final word said, the next fifteen minutes or so were spent scribbling down answers. M'gann suggested that if they were ready to answer a meatier question already, then instead of answering right now, they should circle the number of the question and answer later when they had the free time. She also told them that, if it made them more comfortable, she could email them the file of the questionnaire, which would allow them to type up their answers instead of writing them. That interested many of them, so she wrote down a quick note in her planner to send a group email after class was over with the file attached.
Once she was certain everyone was done, she clapped her hands, catching their attention once again. "Okay then, put those papers away. We're going to have a debate." M'gann stood up and went to her desk, while also turning off the lights. Once she was sure the projector was on, she connected her laptop to it and clicked on a file she had specifically prepared for this class.
Everyone blinked when it came into view on the screen. It was a photo of a dress — and not a particularly good one either.
"Here is my question," M'gann began, once again resisting the urge to smirk. "What is the color of this dress?"
Confused looks were exchanged, before Tim sighed and raised his hand. "Yes, Tim?"
Tim rolled his eyes. "It's white and gold."
"Wait, what?" Cassie blinked. "What are you talking about Tim? It's black and blue."
The third Robin stared at her. "What are you talking about? It's definitely white and gold."
Next to him, Cass shook her head. "No, little brother. Black and blue."
"Sorry, but I'm going to have to disagree with you girls," Courtney interjected. "The Boy Wonder has it right — it's white and gold."
As the four began to argue in earnest, the remaining three adolescent heroes (Cissie, Greta, and Bart) watched the fireworks with growing dread. Cissie even turned her head around to stare directly at M'gann in wide-eyed horror. "What have you done?" she whispered, terror in her voice.
M'gann simply smiled at her.
The argument continued for another half-hour. Eventually, Cissie was forcibly inserted into it, forcing her to admit that she saw the dress as black and blue. Greta then chimed in and said that she saw it as white and gold. That left poor, unfortunate Bart as the tiebreaker, a role he completely and utterly failed at because he could see the dress as both white and gold and as black and blue. It was another ten minutes before they finally confronted the amused M'gann and asked for the answer.
"It's black and blue," she replied, grinning as half her class pumped their fists in victory while the other half slumped in defeat. "The reason some of you are seeing it in white and gold is due to a difference in neurology, involving any number of factors that even in my time had yet to be fully determined."
M'gann stepped away from her desk and turned the projector off. "I always use this as the first argument for my classes," she explained as she turned back on the lights, "because it stimulates debate, and makes you students more willing to disagree with each other. As you all know, most people are taught to avoid conflict, which is admirable. However, it's not healthy to avoid all conflict, because that's what leads to things like herd mentality."
"Conflict, in all forms, is a vital part of the human — or perhaps sentient would be more apt — condition. It's through conflict and adversity that people are allowed to grow and develop into becoming more." She pulled down the projector screen, allowing it to roll back up and reveal the whiteboards. "Obviously, violent conflict should be avoided as much as possible. Non-violent conflict, such as debates and competitions, on the other hand, should be encouraged — though in moderation and only with relatively low stakes."
"The reality is that when you're on a team, there's always going to be some conflict. You might disagree with a plan your teammates have decided on, or on who to invite to your team, or even whether or not you should be on the team. And that's fine. That's how teams, develop, grow, and decide what are the best methods to achieve their objectives. You're not going to agree on everything, and quite frankly, you shouldn't. These debates are to help foster that, while also reminding you to be respectful of each other's opinions and not allow them to compromise your working relationship or even your personal relationship. You don't know how many teams have broken apart simply because a few members couldn't agree to disagree."
M'gann crossed her arms. "I have to warn you, though, that not all these debates are going to be easily settled. There are certain topics, serious topics, usually pertaining to personal philosophies, where there is no right answer and you'll have to reach an accord on your own without me as the final say, just as a mediator. It won't be for a while, though, so you should be fine for now. Any questions?"
Greta held up her hand. "Where did you get that picture? And where can we find that dress?"
"I got the picture from Jason. As for the dress, it won't be designed and made for another three to four years."
Now everyone was staring at her. "…What?" Cissie asked flatly.
"This photo is from a meme that went viral on the Internet in early 2015," M'gann explained, shrugging. "Jason has almost his entire database stored and secured in his helmet's hardware. As this is a standard part of this course's lesson plan, he had this stored on there as well."
The children gaped at her. M'gann ignored their expressions. "Now," she clapped her hands, "next debate. Which are better: Pirates, or Ninjas?"
"Your friends are weird," Tim bluntly told his brother the moment class finished and dinner began. "So are you, for that matter."
Jason raised an eyebrow, before shrugging. "That's fair. Need I ask what prompted this?"
"M'gann used a meme from the future to teach us to argue with each other."
"Ah, yes. The dress." Jason shook his head in fond amusement. "That's always worth a few laughs."
The rest of the class was milling around the dining table, waiting as Kaldur set the table and M'gann brought out the food with her telekinesis. Jason had used the extra time to go really elaborate with tonight's spread: Korean barbecue. Courtesy of the cook book Alfred had gifted him for Christmas earlier that year.
Tim frowned as he observed the room and noticed all the missing people, before glancing back at his brother. "Is this really it? Where are the rest of you? I know Kyle is in space, but what about everyone else."
"Well, after he finished his class Wallace sped over back to Central City to spend the rest of the weekend with his Aunt Iris," Jason explained as he guided his little brother to the table. "Kon is still on Themyscira, and Donna is spending time with her son. They'll all be back tomorrow or Tuesday."
They sat down, and once everyone was seated, dinner began. The conversation flowed freely as it did at lunch, and many compliments were made to the chef. There was also further discussion about some of the debate topics that didn't have a definitive resolution (such as the 'Pirates vs. Ninjas' one, to the amusement of the adults).
As the dinner winded to its end, however, someone asked the dreaded question: "What are we doing tomorrow?"
A round of looks were exchanged. Jason and M'gann both gave meaningful looks to Kaldur, who shrugged. The former two exchanged another look, before both sighed.
"You're going camping," Jason answered bluntly.
There was a beat of silence.
"…Camping," Cissie deadpanned.
"Camping."
"…Why are we going camping?"
"My specialty."
Every eye turned towards Kaldur, and the children tried to hide their apprehension. While all the Era 2 Leaguers were particularly brutal during the last battle, Kaldur was the only one who actively tried to kill someone while not under brainwashing. Even if he had stopped after some words from his predecessor, such an action left an impression, especially on young, impressionable teenagers.
"You'll see tomorrow," Kaldur, seemingly oblivious to their hesitance. "But for now, I suggest you all go to sleep early tonight. You've got a long day tomorrow."
A few of the students swallowed.
The following morning, after breakfast, the kids were sent down to their respective locker rooms, where uniforms and packs of survival gear had been stored into their assigned lockers. Jason instructed them to make sure they didn't forget a single thing, before sending them off with further instructions to meet Kaldur in the backyard once they were dressed and ready to go.
He was already waiting for them in his own pack and gear, similar to theirs except with a black band around his right arm, no doubt to denote his status as a teacher. As soon as they were all gathered around, he did a quick count-off before clearing his throat to catch their attention.
"Hello, everyone," his voice was deep, smooth and steady, "My name is Kaldur'ahm, though you may call me Kaldur for short. I was the second Aqualad and the third Aquaman, succeeding Garth, aka Tempest of the Titans, for both."
"My speciality is the environment — specifically, adapting to any all environments and using them to your advantage, even in non-combat situations. While it's important for heroes to manipulate whatever dangerous situations they're in to their advantage as much as possible, the reality is that there are always going to be certain factors that we consistently won't have control over. The environment is one of them." He swept his gaze over the attentive students. "This is because we are typically more reactive than proactive. It is not a knock on our priorities, but rather a result of the sheer weight of the responsibilities thrust upon us."
"The purpose of my class is to not just work with this, but work around it, so no matter what environment you're in, you're never completely helpless. Whether it is a desert or a beach or a rainforest or even somewhere like here, in the Appalachian Mountains, you'll know how to survive and even how to thrive if need be."
Kaldur crossed his arms. "Now, originally I was going to hold the first class in the HSR, but after talking it over with the others, I've decided otherwise. Instead, your first class will be here, in the Mountains. After going through an overview of this environment, we're going to learn some basic survival skills, such as how to start a fire, where to find clean water, edible food, etc." He nodded towards the backpack he was wearing. "Your packs will contain all the tools you need to survive. Note that in future classes, that will not always be the case — in some courses, you won't have anything at all except the clothes on your backs." Many swallowed upon hearing that.
"After I'm done teaching you those skills and satisfied that you won't die within a night out here, I'm going to leave you to stay the night over on the mountain, and will come to collect all of you approximately 10:00 a.m. tomorrow." He held up a hand, forestalling the questions. "As far as safety is concerned, each of your uniforms has a tracker so we can keep an eye on each of your locations, and every pack contains a distress beacon that can be activated in the case of emergencies, such as serious injury."
Tim frowned, and raised his hand. Kaldur nodded towards him, silently giving him permission to speak. "What about minor injuries?"
"You mean like that scratch that Cissie is about to get from that mountain lion?"
Shocked, the students all whirled around towards Cissie's direction, where a mountain lion was indeed approaching her from behind. The teenagers froze, with Cissie cringing away momentarily. When the lion was set to pounce, however, she steeled herself, and kicked it away as it jumped.
The cougar rolled back before landing on its feet. It snarled at at the entire group, leaning back in preparation to pounce once more…until a long machete suddenly buried itself into the ground in front of it. The cougar looked up to see Kaldur glaring coldly down at it. They locked gazes for a moment, before the animal fled away in fear.
Kaldur kept glaring at its retreating form, and only when it was completely out of sight did he turn around to observe the shaking forms of his students, absentmindedly twisting the machete out of the ground. His eys softened. "Are you alright?"
"We're fine," Cissie blurted out, "especially me. I'm fine. It just…startled me. I don't know why, I've faced off against scarier stuff—"
"Just not without your usual weapons," Kaldur pointed out, "Or your gadgets, or, in the cases of some of you, your powers."
Tim's head turned sharply at that. "That was deliberate, wasn't it?"
Kaldur raised an eyebrow. "What was deliberate?" He asked measuredly.
"This entire weekend. We haven't used any of our powers, or our tools or weapons or anything." Tim scowled. "It was all to prepare us for this class, wasn't it? To get used to the idea of being vulnerable, like any normal civilian."
The Atlantean stared at him for a long moment. And then, he smiled. "Your brother always did say you were the smartest member of your family," he shook his head fondly, "I'd almost forgotten why. But to answer your question, yes. This was deliberate." Kaldur crossed his arms again. "Your powers, your weapons, your gadgets…they're all wonderful things that give you many advantages."
His eyes sharpened. "And that means that they'll be the first things your enemies will try to neutralize whenever in a hostile situation. You've heard this spiel before: never rely on your abilities or any of your weapons, always be prepared to fight without them. Well, here's the live test."
He turned around. "Now, come. Since Tim mentioned it first, we'll start with a review of basic first aid."
"I still say we should've used the HSR," Kaldur announced the moment he entered the kitchen. It had been a couple hours since his class started, and he had finally finished teaching the students all they needed to know to survive the night. He had since left them in one of the farther parts of the mountain, using the trail of marked trees he had secretly made to find his way back to the base. He wondered if any of them noticed.
"I thought we agreed it was too early for the HSR," M'gann pointed out, leaning over the counter. Jason, meanwhile, was busy putting the finishing touches on lunch. Since it was only going to be the adults for the rest of the day and tomorrow morning, meal preparation was assured to go much quicker. "We use the HSR for combat simulations. Your class today is not combat oriented."
"Except for the mountain lion I had to scare off."
"Except for that," M'gann amended.
"She's right, Kaldur," Jason added, setting down three plates of fresh pasta onto the counter. "The HSR wouldn't have been a right fit for the class you were trying to teach today. I know you wanted to do something more exotic like a rainforest—"
"—coming from the man who wanted me to do a desert," Kaldur deadpanned.
Jason ignored him. "—But it's better to start them off small instead of throwing them in the deep end." He paused. "Plus, the HSR can't mimic food or anything like that so doing a survival exercise in there wouldn't work anyway. Better to wait until the teleporters are back on so we can send them to an actual rainforest."
"Speaking of the teleporters," M'gann hummed, "why aren't we giving them access to Zeta technology yet? I miss having access to a Zeta Tube. I mean sure, teleporters are more versatile, but Zeta Tubes are more reliable."
"I gave a copy of the plans to B, but he said he wanted to make sure the Zeta Tubes couldn't be hacked before he considered widespread implementation."
There was a pause. "But Tim — our Tim — already took care of that," Kaldur replied slowly.
Jason shrugged, his focus intent on seasoning the plates. "I told him that. But you know how he is."
His friends exchanged looks. "We do," M'gann confirmed. "Which is why we're so surprised you two are getting along so well."
The seasoning stopped. "What is that supposed to mean?" Jason demanded.
Kaldur sighed. "Jason, you know exactly what we mean."
"He hasn't done it, any of it, and the way things are going, he never will," Jason stated firmly. "I don't see why this should even be an issue. It's been decades. We've moved on — I've moved on."
"We know, Jason," M'gann answered soothingly. "We're just…concerned."
"Well, don't be. This generation is better than it's ever been. I don't see why we should be digging up old ghosts when all it will do is just disrupt our progress."
"Maybe not your old ghosts," Kaldur conceded, "But what about Wallace's? You know, he hasn't told his family about Flashpoint yet."
This time, it was Jason's turn to sigh. "I know. And I can understand why he's reluctant, especially since Barry is still dead right now. Never speak ill of the dead and all that. But they still need to be prepared." He began passing the plates around. "I checked the records. Nora Allen was 'murdered' by her husband in this timeline."
Kaldur groaned. "Which means when Barry comes back, because we all know he will if only so Savage can fuck with us more—"
"Here, here," Jason and M'gann chorused.
"—he might try to go back in time and, well, save her. And probably screw all us over again in the meantime. And because the Flashes don't know they can't screw with time like that anymore…"
"Yeah. We need to lean in on Wallace for that. Maybe I can bribe him with my triple quadruple fudge nougat cheesecake…"
M'gann scoffed. "Why is it that he gets to have your most sugary recipes while you're always on me for my chocos?"
"Easy," Jason deadpanned. "One, he's a speedster. Two, he's not an addict. Three, cheesecake isn't a drug for him like chocos are for you."
"I am not an addict!" M'gann fumed, slamming her fork onto a table. "I can stop any time I want!"
"Spoken like a true addict," Kaldur noted. Jason nodded in agreement.
M'gann pouted.
"So, we get no tents." Cassie sighed as she threw herself to the ground. "Yay us."
Courtney rifled through her own back pack and took out a sloppy-looking cylinder-like object. "No tents, but we do get sleeping bags. That's something, at least."
"C'mon, guys! We just have to survive the night," Bart pointed out, spinning on his heel. Without access to his super speed, his speech was much slower, if still a little quick. "Then they'll pick us up tomorrow and we can spend the rest of the day in our nice, comfy beds."
"And then spend Wednesday doing whatever the hell they have planned for us," Cissie pointed out, going ahead to sit next to Cassie.
It was night time, hours after Kaldur had left them to fend for themselves. They had been instructed to keep on going up the mountain until the sun set, and to settle down in the general area of wherever they managed to reach. As per his instructions, they had also marked whatever trees they managed to pass by, just in case they needed to return somewhere they already passed by.
"Considering how the last couple of days have been for us," Cissie continued, "it's probably going to be insanely hard, hardly sane, and leave our heads hurting and our bodies breaking."
Tim nodded absentmindedly, sitting cross-legged on the ground as his sister played an impromptu game of tag with Greta. They had taken their backpacks off and had dumped them next to him, inadvertently giving Tim a place to lean his back against as he got to thinking. "Don't you think it's weird?"
Everyone stopped what they were doing to stare at him. "What's weird?" Bart asked, tilting his head.
"How obsessed they are with training us?"
Cassie sat up, and shrugged. "Maybe a little. But Tim, you have to remember, a lot of them…a lot of them watched us d-die." It still hurt to think about, if a little strange. Cassie always knew being a superhero was going to be dangerous, but only the last few weeks had really hammered it in.
"Yeah, but Cassie, those of us here that died in their universe or whatever — they died as adults," Tim reminded her. Looks of realization began to dawn on the faces of his friends. "They probably didn't know everything we're going to learn in the next couple of months, but they sure as hell knew way, way more than we do right now. And if they died as adults, I don't get how having us learn more stuff when we're younger is going to save us." He shrugged. "I doubt there's much more they could teach us now that would make our lives anymore easier."
"There's still Savage, though," Bart pointed out, though there was a lot of reluctance and unsurety in his tone.
"There is," Tim conceded. "And maybe the training they'll give us will prevent our deaths in the future or whatever. But…I just don't know. I can't help but feel that there's more to this than just preparing us. Like, there's some deeper reasoning to all this."
"You mean, like a conspiracy?" Cissie asked, glancing at her friend.
Tim shrugged again. "Maybe. Look. I love Jason. I've looked up to him for years, even before I got to meet him for real. He looked at me and considered me a part of his family without a second thought. He was there for me when my dad died. He's done nothing but teach me, care for me, protect me."
"But while he's told me the broad details of his past with me, I'm beginning to realize I don't really know anything of what happened to him after. All the years he spent as Batman, as a member of the Justice League — they're all spoken in general terms. I mean, yeah, he's parting more stuff now, but…" Tim sighed. "He's holding back. They all are. You see it too, right?"
There was another round of looks, and then a cough from Bart. "You know that comment Kon made? About how Wallace wasn't supposed to exist yet in this timeline?"
"Yeah," Greta said, scowling. "That was weird. And to be honest, I thought it was kind of mean. Especially since they didn't explain what they meant by that."
"Yeah, well, I think I know what they meant. Or at least an idea." The speedster looked around, keeping an eye out. Even if they were out in the woods, there were ways for people to overhear. While it's unlikely their teachers were keeping that close an eye on them, it never hurt to be careful. "See, Saturday night, after we all went to sleep, I started feeling hungry—"
"Seriously, Bart?" Cissie interjected, not sounding very impressed.
"I'm a growing speedster!" Bart quickly defended himself. "I can't help it! Ask Wally or Wallace or any other speedster, they'll tell you the same thing!"
"Guys," Tim hedged.
"Yeah, yeah. Anyway, I was starting to feel hungry so I went downstairs to the kitchen to find something to eat. But before I got there, I heard this conversation Wallace was having with your brother, and with Donna. Something about Grandpa Barry and something called Flashpoint."
"'Flashpoint'?" Greta tasted the word on her mouth. "What's a 'Flashpoint'?"
Bart shrugged. "I don't know. All I know is that it was something big, and that Jason and Donna wanted Wallace to tell at least me and Wally and Jay soon. The way they were talking about it, it seemed like they didn't think any of us were going to like it. That it was…bad."
"But why would your grandfather have anything to do with it?" Cassie questioned, looking skeptical. "He's been dead for years."
"I don't know. Maybe he did something before he died that we had to deal with later on?" Bart suggested.
"Or maybe he came back."
Everyone stared at Cass. She shrugged. "Jason came back," she pointed out.
Tim tapped his chin. "She's right. Jason did come back. So did Kon, according to the man himself."
"Donna died once too," Cassie noted. "She told me that she did. Said she was revived by the surviving Titans of Greek Mythology, though she didn't go into a lot of detail."
"And even before all that, Superman died and came back. So did Wonder Woman," Tim narrowed his eyes. "There's a precedent for people coming back to life. It wouldn't be wrong to assume that someone brought back Barry Allen at some point. And, if Bart's words are right, Barry had something to do with whatever this Flashpoint thing is. And it had to do with why Wallace isn't supposed to 'exist' yet."
"So, what? Are you trying to say that Barry Allen created Wallace for some reason?" Cissie rubbed the back of her head. "Why would that be a problem? I mean sure, it's weird, but…"
"No. I don't think that's it." Tim tapped his chin. "I think that whatever Barry did, Wallace was a side effect of that. And that whatever it was, it wasn't a good thing, and that Wallace was one of the only good bits about it. Why else would they be so reluctant to talk about it?"
"If that's the case, shouldn't we tell our mentors? You know, the ones that didn't time travel?" Courtney piped up. She had remained quiet for most of the discussion, because while she was gradually becoming closer to everyone here, it wasn't quite to the point that she could just jump into their running train of thought whenever.
"With what proof?" Tim rebutted. "Right now, all this is a theory based on some hearsay. Maybe they'll take us seriously, maybe not, but they can't really do anything about it except confront Wallace with it, and he could easily talk his way out of it if he wanted to. After all, they've been steamrolling us over since they've got here, and not a single one of us has been able to muster up a sufficient counterargument."
"Why is that, by the way?" Courtney asked, crossing her arms. "They give us all this information, they teach us, but they don't let us act on our own. At least not for the stuff they give us. It's like they don't trust us."
Tim stared at her for a moment, before closing his eyes. "I don't think it's us they don't trust."
Everyone frowned. "What do you mean by that, Tim?" Cassie demanded.
Tim didn't answer. He just turned away.
People are putting the pieces together, and the kids have gotten closer to understanding Era 2 than the adults have. But then again, they have been spending more time with them the adults have.
Next chapter: The field trip.
