Free Citadel (Book 1): Training in Necessity by J. Clevenger Page B

into three, and now at least one would always be in the school library.  Student's access may not sound like much of a resource, but that was literally hundreds of specialized databases at his fingertips.  He could find out any fact he might need to know with a little research.
    Some goals were obvious.  Increasing his proficiency with a pistol, adding larger firearms like shotguns and rifles, martial arts, knives, clubs, basically anything to do with fighting, there was training available to Citadel members that cost nothing but time.  He had plenty of that.
    Other goals were more subtle.  Carrying a double course load was trivial for him, but the cost would add up.  Auditing additional courses was a good option.  He'd already laid out bare bones degree plans for himself that included psychology, applied chemistry, languages and health sciences.  There had to be more that would be useful to him.
    Hector was just a regular human.  Okay, he was effectively a small army of regular humans.  However, if there was one reason for the Citadel to exist, it was that regular people couldn't effectively control the actions of the Empowered. 
    If he was going to do his part, Hector had to find a way to push himself higher up the power scale.  Becoming a small army of humans at peak physical conditioning, trained to the limit of the human mind, would be a small step in the right direction.

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    CHAPTER 4:  PERSONAL TIME
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    Private Residence, Oceanside
    The Director looked up from the evaluation results in her hands to consider the young man before her.  They were seated at his family’s kitchen table.  He wore his blond hair slicked back and a dark brown button-down shirt with black slacks. 
    There was enough wear on the clothes to indicate that they were in regular use, rather than only for special occasions.  His posture was upright and alert, the very model of an upper-middle class, eager young student.  The only contrast with this image were the dark sunglasses he was wearing indoors.
    “Mr. Reed, why should I even consider allowing you to enter my program?”
    The boy rocked back slightly, his eyebrows raised and his mouth opened in surprise.  After a momentary pause, he leaned forward, his face and voice firm with determination.
    “Ma’am, my academic history is well above average and my parents gave you a list of my extracurricular activities.  I feel I should be well within the criteria of admittance.” There was a hint of anger in his otherwise controlled voice.
    “Young man, your parents are no longer in the room.  Anything disclosed during the course of these interviews is considered confidential.  You and I both know that my concerns have nothing to do with your grades.  You will cease this act and tell me why you wish to be a Citadel operative, or your application will be denied here and now.”
    The resulting change was subtle, but unmistakable to the Director.  The boy still sat upright, but with a loose, relaxed manner rather than his previous pose of controlled eagerness.  His face was smooth and she was sure it would have seemed unemotional even without the glasses.  The most pronounced change was in the tone of his voice.
    “There is no simple answer to that, Director Shift.”  It was utterly monotone.  “You know my family history.  I desire to show that I can rise above it.  Obviously, I also desire success and reward.  Operatives earn both in sufficient quantity. 
    “I think, most of all, that my ability is the primary drive.  There is no other socially acceptable avenue within which I can make full use of it.  I realize restraint is necessary, but I have considered this for most of my life and I believe this is the best path for me.”
    “The best path for you, perhaps.  What about my other trainees?”  Another woman might have been disconcerted, knowing the potential danger she was in.  Melody Shift was not.
    “I am not my mother, ma’am.  I can