I looked at Derek in shock, momentarily stunned by his perceptive question. I kept forgetting that despite his reputation as one of the school’s most notorious troublemakers, Derek possessed a sharp intelligence that most adults seemed to overlook or dismiss.
His ability to walk into that classroom and immediately sense the underlying tension, even while focusing on routine administrative business, demonstrated the kind of situational awareness that couldn’t be taught. Most people would have delivered their message about club budgets and left without noticing anything unusual. Derek had not only picked up on the dangerous undercurrents but had been observant enough to realize that something significant was happening beneath the surface of normal school interactions.
It made me wonder what job the System would assign him when he turned eighteen. If he received something that properly utilized his combination of creativity, intelligence, and natural perception, he could easily become a high-ranking individual with significant influence and opportunities. His unconventional thinking and ability to see through social facades would be valuable assets in fields like investigation, analysis, or strategic planning.
But if he got unlucky and the System assigned him something mundane like cashier or janitor, he would likely be relegated to the lower ranks of society regardless of his actual capabilities. The thought bothered me more than it should have.
This was the biggest fundamental flaw of the System that governed our world and one of the reasons I was so adamant against it during the United Nations meeting. It was designed to identify and categorize people’s traits and abilities, but it completely ignored the reality that human potential was far more complex and multifaceted than what any system of numbers could capture effectively.
The System treated job assignments as definitive indicators of a person’s worth and capabilities, but it failed to account for the countless ways that people could excel in areas outside their designated roles. If the world’s most brilliant physicist was randomly assigned the job of athlete, they would perform as a mediocre athlete at best. More tragically, they would never be hired to work as a physicist because the System - the only recognized way to prove job qualifications and relevant skills - wouldn’t display physics as their profession or show any skills related to scientific research.
The physicist’s genius would be wasted, society would lose potential breakthrough discoveries, and an individual’s life would be constrained by an arbitrary assignment that bore no relationship to their actual talents or interests. Multiply that tragedy across millions of people, and the System’s rigidity became a massive source of human suffering and wasted potential.
Derek was a perfect example of someone who would likely be undervalued by the System’s narrow categories. His intelligence was unconventional, his problem-solving approach was creative rather than methodical, and his social skills were masked by his reputation for causing trouble. These qualities might not translate well to the kind of standardized assessments the System used to determine job assignments, but they were exactly the kind of traits that could make someone exceptionally effective in the right circumstances.
I snapped back to the present reality, realizing that Derek was still waiting for an answer to his question about what had happened in that classroom. The young man was looking at me with the kind of patient expectation that suggested he was genuinely curious about the truth, not just making casual conversation.
"Derek," I said finally, choosing my words carefully, "some things are better left unknown. If you knew more about what was really happening back there, you’d be putting yourself at risk. Trust me when I say that ignorance is safer in this particular situation."
Derek studied my face for a long moment, and I could see him processing both my words and my tone. Whatever he saw there seemed to convince him that I was being serious about the potential danger rather than just brushing off his question with adult condescension.
"Alright," he said with a slight nod, "I get it. Some things are too big for regular people to get involved with."
His willingness to accept my explanation without pushing for more details was another indicator of his intelligence. A less perceptive person might have continued asking questions or assumed I was being unnecessarily dramatic. Derek understood that there were situations where curiosity could be genuinely dangerous, and he respected that boundary. Though I was shocked that I didn’t need to use Persuasive Argumentation or Persuasive Speaking to convince him.
"So," he continued, shifting to a more casual tone, "you still want to see those club facilities? The cooking club actually has some pretty impressive equipment, and the space club has this telescope setup that’s way cooler than you’d expect for a high school."
For the next hour, Derek led me through various parts of the school, showing me the dedicated spaces where different extracurricular activities took place. The cooking club had indeed been provided with professional-grade equipment that would have been impressive in a commercial kitchen. The space club’s astronomy setup included not just telescopes but also computer modeling software and star charts that demonstrated a serious commitment to scientific education.
As we walked through these facilities, I found myself genuinely impressed by the resources Hudson Heights Educational Academy provided for its students. Whatever issues existed with the embedded assassins, the school itself seemed to be making a real effort to give young people opportunities to explore their interests and develop their capabilities. What’s more is that all these students were once trouble makers. It really is an accomplishment to see a school help redeem hundreds of students without fail...well with the exception of Derek of course.
But the tour also served a practical purpose by allowing me to familiarize myself with more of the building’s layout and identify potential escape routes or defensive positions if the situation with the assassination team escalated further.
During a pause between club visits, I realized there was something I wanted to clarify about Derek’s schedule.
"Derek, how is it that you’re not in class right now? Shouldn’t you be in some kind of structured learning session during school hours? I doubt High School have a break that lasts multiple hours."
Derek’s expression shifted to something between embarrassment and defiance. "Well, I was supposed to be in Mr. Trev’s class, but I usually shows up about twenty minutes late anyway. When I saw that Ms. Chen was covering as the substitute teacher, I figured I’d just skip entirely."
This information was provided was slightly unfortunate. Had Derek been present to his classes on time then I could’ve likely asked if it was normal for Mr. Trev to always be so late, but I guess I’ll have to do my own research this time.
"You don’t like Ms. Chen as a teacher?" I asked, trying to gather more information without appearing overly interested.
"Oh, she’s nice enough," Derek replied with a shrug. "But she makes the class way too easy. Like, painfully easy. I already understand most of the material she covers, and when she’s substituting for Mr. Trev, she tends to just give us busy work rather than anything challenging."
His complaint reminded me again of how the educational system, like the broader System that governed society, often failed to accommodate people whose capabilities or learning styles didn’t fit standard expectations. Derek was clearly capable of handling more advanced material than what was being provided, but the structure of the classroom environment couldn’t adapt to his individual needs.
"I appreciate you taking the time to show me around," I said as we concluded the tour near the main administrative wing. "You’ve given me a much better understanding of what this school offers its students."
"No problem, Mr. Vale. It was more interesting than sitting through another easy substitute class."
As Derek headed back toward the student areas, I found myself alone in the corridor with my thoughts racing through the implications of everything I had learned during the morning. The encounter with Ken Ross and Thomas Chen had confirmed that the assassination team was more coordinated than initially assessed and with the potential of there being even more of them was making everything more nerve wracking. Ms. Patterson’s role in orchestrating that meeting suggested a level of planning that indicated they were preparing for immediate action rather than continued surveillance.
Most concerning was the continued absence of Damon Trev. While Derek’s information didn’t really provide more insight on what happened, the timing of his disappearance coinciding with the assassination team’s apparent decision to move forward with their plans felt too convenient to be coincidental.
I needed to contact Anthony immediately and provide him with updated intelligence about the threat assessment. The identification of Ken Ross and Thomas Chen as additional hostile actors would require adjustments to the security protocols and possibly the entire operational approach.
But more urgently, I needed to determine what had happened to Damon Trev and whether his absence represented a compromise of our internal intelligence capabilities or something even more serious.