Samantha, who had been babysitting the other children, had refused to open the door when the E.H.O.D. showed up.  She was now looking after Martin and Abigail in the back rooms while Andy and his parents confronted the E.H.O.D. agent.

            Andy sat on one end of their L couch, facing the agent who sat at the other end, going through some files in his briefcase.  Having arrived just a few minutes ago after a quick phone call, Garrett Stone sat next to Andy on a folding chair.  Garrett didn’t look too pleased about this situation and glared at the E.H.O.D. agent.

            Amelia Gatlin, wearing her light skinned and dark haired human form, sat next to Andy on the couch, glaring at the agent and tapping her foot.  John Gatlin sat closer to the agent, also glaring.  Andy noted that he could sense a subtle electromagnetic charge from his father.  Andy’s magnetic senses also detected metal muscles and bones underneath his mother’s still organic skin, a simple Valtarian technique to prepare for a fight without giving oneself away.  Andy didn’t know if this would end in a fight, but he decided to follow his parents’ lead, preparing some electromagnetism and turning everything but his skin and eyes into metal.

            If there was one reason to be ready for a fight, it was the Cerberon.  John had forbidden the agent from bringing it into the house, so it stood in the window, looking in.  It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the agent had put it there deliberately, and Andy had to resist the urge to look at it.  The most disturbing thing about the Cerberon, to Andy at least, was that he couldn’t sense its metal or electronics.  It must have had some technology to resist electromagnetic energy.  Andy didn’t know if that was a standard feature or if this one was selected just for him, but it gave Andy pause nonetheless.

            “Is this really the best extra seat you have?” said a belligerent voice with a British accent.

            Everyone looked towards Centurion, sitting in a metal chair with his arms folded irritably.

            “You’re not ruining my couch with that armor,” said Amelia, arms crossed as she tapped her foot. “Speaking of ruining, that machine of yours is trampling our lawn.”

            The E.H.O.D. agent looked up irritably, then rolled his eyes.  Andy sensed a small electric surge coming from him, and the Cerberon outside then levitated about a foot into the air.  Andy figured the man must have a cerebral implant allowing him to control the Cerberon with his thoughts.

            “Better?” asked the agent.

            “Much better,” said Amelia.

            Amelia didn’t look happier.  If anything, her foot tapped just a little faster.

            “Can we get on with this?” said Centurion.  “I had plans tonight.”

            “Yes,” said Garrett. “Why did you show up a day early with no warning?”

            “I thought it would be more convenient to get it out of the way,” said the agent.

            “More convenient for who?” asked Garrett.

            The agent’s eyes narrowed, “For everyone.”

            Centurion snorted.

            “And I assume,” said John, a threatening tone in his voice.  “That since we never received any sort of notification about this change, that Andy won’t be held responsible for being late since he couldn’t possibly have known about it?”

            The agent paused and looked up, giving a phony smile.

            “Of course not,” he said.  “Probably a glitch with the e-mail or something.”

            Andy could sense the agent’s electromagnetic signature fluctuating, indicating that he was stressed, and Andy had to suppress a grin.

            Finally, the E.H.O.D. agent finished pulling out his documents.

            “Let’s begin,” said the agent, clearing his throat. “Andrew Maxwell Gatlin.  You are faced with civilians about to be crushed by rubble and a power user criminal attempts to escape.  Rescuing the civilians will likely mean that the criminal gets away.  What do you do?”

            “Rescue civilians,” said Andy.  “The power user will likely fight back, so there’s no guarantee I’ll catch him even if I give chase.  On the other hand, the civilians are lives I can save immediately.”

            The agent gave no indication that this was the right or wrong answer but just wrote something down.

            The interview continued with questions just like that, different scenarios, and how Andy would deal with them.  Andy did his best to answer each question honestly but had this sinking feeling that this was all pointless.  It was one thing to speculate about how you’d act in a scenario.  It was another thing to be in that scenario with all your emotions and adrenaline affecting how you think.  Besides, real-life situations might have mitigating factors that change the answer.  Still, Andy got through them all without too much problem.

            The last question, however, made his blood boil.

            “You see a fellow superhero acting erratically,” said the agent.  “And his actions threaten nearby civilians.  How do you respond?”

            Andy took a moment to answer and had to suppress his anger.  They knew how Andy would handle this because he’d done it already.  He could also sense the electromagnetic signatures from his parents as they tensed up.

            “I’d do whatever I could to stop that hero without hurting him,” said Andy.  “But would prioritize the safety of nearby civilians.”

            “All of them?” said the Agent.

            Andy detected a hint of a smug smile and realized that the agent was trying to provoke a response.  It took all of Andy’s willpower not to give him one.

            “I would prioritize the civilians,” said Andy.  “But ultimately, I’ll save everyone within my power to save.”

            The agent stared at him, and every other head in the room stared at the agent.

            “Alright,” said the agent. “I think I have enough.  You may continue hero work, but for the next few days Centurion here will be observing you.”

            “Lucky me,” said Centurion Snidely.

            The agent gave Centurion an irritated look, then put his files back, closed his briefcase, and stood.

            “Thank you for your cooperation,” said the agent.

            “Sure,” said John, a sarcastic tone entering his voice.  “I just love when pencil pushers who never engage in hero work think they can pass judgment on those who do.”

            The agent paused, then looked right at John.

            “Sir,” said the agent. “I assure you—we at the E.H.O.D. are the foremost experts on power users.  Trust me.  We know exactly what we’re doing.”

            He turned to leave, Centurion following.

            “Finally,” said Centurion.

            The agent and Centurion left the house, and soon the Cerberon at the window followed them, flying away.  With them gone, Andy breathed a sigh of relief but knew this ordeal wasn’t over yet.