A Whateley Academy Tale
Time for an Unexpected Gift
by Hart
The
Blazer’s wheels slapped against the ground rhythmically as they sped along
towards the hospital. James listened to Joseph and Jason call gleefully from
the back seat, pressed back into the bench seat between his mother and father
to avoid the linked hands atop the gearshift. His swiveled from side to side,
smiling broadly as he watched them, especially Jessica. The swell of her belly,
her panting words amidst contraction… everything was great.
“Edward…
oh… this is the one. This is our daughter… it is going to be so wonderful.”
Jeff
continued focusing on the road ahead, driving skillfully. He seemed lost in
thought as he replied, hand squeezing his wife’s in reassurance, “That’s it,
honey… 10 minutes, no more.”
The love
between the two was apparent. Nothing could keep them apart, not at this
moment. Three boys, one confirmed as a mutant and with preliminary acceptance
at WhateleyAcademy. Marie thought that everything was right, after all these
years, the early difficulties and all that she and her husband had gone
through.
James
looked up at his father, pressed back against the seat to avoid coming too
close to the arm outstretched to grip his mother’s hand. He smiled as he noted
the wrinkle above his brow. Daddy was thinking again but it was not like that
was anything usual. Turning, he absently noted something by the trees ahead as
he now smiled up at the pregnant woman. She looked so happy right now… what was
she thinking. One hand inched out of his lap and moved towards her by reflex
but he stopped.
He felt
something and then everything seemed to come apart.
As the
Blazer began to skid, James watched with growing fear, turning away from
oncoming disaster as he caught sight of something rippling and fading away some
distance from the road and off to one side. For once, neither he nor his
parents shrank back from the comfort of an embrace, rustling sounds almost
hidden beneath the frightened wails of his little brothers as they fought
against and released the tethering seat belts to launch themselves for Mom and
Dad, as well. Only now did the screeching, tearing sound of tires fighting
against friction, the grinding of the brakes locking come through, the dimly
felt warmth of his father’s shielding chest and his mother’s side penetrating
the shock of contact.
‘Nalley, Clariden
Zürich, 41 1 205 62 62, extension 2930. Account
Ludlum… what the ?!’ ‘The truck… who was that… stoooop…’ ‘Finally, a
girl, I know it this time… I so hope she follows James to Whateley / They let
my little warlock in! …what is happening?!’ ‘Turn away, what is going wrong…
James, Marie?’ ‘Jeff… what is this, what is going on… we are going to hi…’ ‘Momma!
Daddy!’ ‘…’
James
felt her, felt his unborn sister, his mother and father. He felt them all at
that moment, as he moaned out incoherently or perhaps only thought he did,
‘Please… please… I do not want to die… no, we can not die…. How can this
happen…?’ The warmth of his sister’s spirit blossomed within him. He could feel
it merging with a faint warmth on his closed eyelids and something pressing
against his stomach.
The
explosion reverberated in his ears and everything faded out.
* * *
III
NEW
ORLEANS, LA: Dec 21, 2004
James
looked over the medical file his father’s attorney had supplied from the vault,
pulling himself back from unhealthy contemplation. It was not possible to
forget it but that did not mean you dwelled on it. He looked over the business
card and turned it over to scratch a few notes on the back. The doctors might
not know how he survived the accident but he did.
It was
unfortunate that things happened as they did. Momma would have gotten the
daughter she wanted if it was not for the slick road and that truck on the
shoulder. Instead… they were all dead. Even the one that would have survived on
her own could not survive, still unborn in a dying woman’s belly. Hearing her
fading cries…
The boy
turned away from his thoughts again, focusing instead upon the pamphlets and
brochures, admiring the graceful form of the young women and men. Whateley. The
papers from the Swiss vault included a record of Mother’s communication with
the school for mutants and wizards. There was even the preliminary acceptance
letter. Just under two years and he could get out of this place, go somewhere
else. Anywhere else. Even better, someplace that would not look at him like he
was a freak.
The
kitten purring at him from his shoulder brought a smile as he reached up to
stroke her throat, sighing a bit. “Hello, Whiskers. I would tell you that cats
are supposed to nap, especially this early, but… right.”
James
enjoyed the simple fact of the kitten’s presence, the reverberant purr, the
tongue he watched slip out to lick at his skritching fingers. It was still
painful after all this time, watching people step away or grimace as soon as he
came close. Being within a foot of someone seemed like such a privilege… but at
least it kept the worst ones in the group home away, too. Well, the bad feeling
kept them away but being seen beating up one of the youngest kids in the place
and never being able to catch him asleep did not hurt, either.
Drawing a
breath, he returned to his plotting, choosing to continue talking to the
non-responsive companion if only to hear someone speak, “Ms. Nalley sent word
that there were more details available but she would be unable to turn them
over to me until I was 18. We definitely need to work on your written German,
though, right, little one? But that account will do fine as long as no one in
this…” James smiled as he watched Whiskers bite the side of his finger, tugging
his finger away from the admonishment before returning to his stroking.
“Right,
no language like that. But that account… $400,000? We will never have to see
this place again, we could even go to school without a scholarship. Stupid, but
we could. No, it looks like we can get a hardship scholarship because of… yeah,
keep the money in reserve, especially until we can get out of the system. Do
you think we could find someone up there? No, we can get Daddy’s attorney to
look into that. We will definitely need to get more testing done but that
should not be difficult. They will want to keep things quiet that there was a
mutant in the home. I just wish…”
James did
not feel the tears beginning to slip down his cheeks as he brought his head to lay
upon the kitten, hearing the tone of her purr rise, as if she were trying to
comfort him, as he whispered brokenly, “She died because Momma died. She
protected both of us… all three of us, Whiskers… but it still could not save
her or anyone other than you and me. Do… do you miss her, sometimes?”
The
kitten answered James with a lick to his cheek, bringing a sad smile to his
face as he tucked the medical file into the new backpack. He checked (closer to
fiddled) with them for a while, focusing intently enough that he failed to
notice the cessation of sound from the headset earphone settled over one ear.
Everything was adequate. It looked like it would be no difficulty to make
arrangements, after all.
* *
*
IV
WHATELEY ACADEMY : Sep 4, 2006
James
stepped out of the van, nodding to the mover at the steering wheel as he lifted
his backpack. He seemed a bit withdrawn, sad. It had only been eight hours
since he had to release the eternal kitten outside the Concord airport but… he missed her
terribly already. She had always been there, even in the hospital, every hour
of every day for almost five years. Losing her now when things seemed they
might be getting better was difficult but the introduction packet laid it out
in uncompromising black and white: “No pets allowed.”
She would
be alright, everyone loves kittens. But what would he do? Shaking off the
thoughts, he looked up to the waiting man and nodded, handing over a paper.
“Here you go, sir, remember, those lights are fairly important. The letter said
Emerson Cottage and that there would be someone to…”
The boy
turned as he heard someone cough. He nodded politely to the slim, grey eyed
young man now behind him and reached up to extract the earbud of his iPod,
allowing it to join its brother around his neck. The other offered a slight
smile, “Hey there, kid. You said Emerson?” He pointed towards the far side of
campus, “Over there, the cottages closer to the center, but you should probably
wait here.”
James
nodded, seemingly too nervous to smile back, “Thank you but I was told to check
in with Schuster Hall, Administration? They would find someone to take me over
there. Oh… uhh, James. I mean, I am James.”
The other
chuckled and pointed at the architectural oddity in the center of the campus
with a crystal dome, of all things. “There you go. Nice to meet you, I’m Hank.
See you around.”
James
drew a deep breath to still his nerves and nodded again as the other turned and
headed back towards the smaller buildings off to one side of the campus, the cottages.
Well, it had not been too bad so far. Instructing the mover to park and stay
with the van, he headed towards the indicated building, skirting groups of
other boys and girls on the way.
Following
the cursory directions, James headed towards the building, eyes wide in
amazement. Music continued to spill tinnily from the earphones around his neck
as he and the others bustling about mutually avoid contact, garnering a few odd
looks from those who veered into the area under his influence. Reaching his destination,
James ducked his head against his chest and moved to the side, edging up
against a bookstore’s window as he gave wide berth to a young woman chasing
after a clean-shaven Indian… cowboy. He paused a second, a second appraisal
earned by either the man or the fact that the girl, with that blue-grey hair
looked… no, could not be. He merged into the flow, breaking away as he saw ‘ADMINISTRATION’
stenciled on the glass of an approaching door.
* *
*
The door
opened up on a scene of mass confusion. There were at least five different
lines of students to various desks and the occasional side office. It seemed
everyone needed something in here today. Entering the line closest to the door,
he noticed a lanky, chocolate-skinned man get turned away from a desk set off
to one side near a door. James watched curiously as those about him cleared a
bit of space for him, noting the clenched jaw and the grey eyes, fixed with
purpose. The momentary look of satisfaction on the blonde businesswoman’s face
might have been a bit startling but he could well imagine hearing her evil
little laugh at having messed with someone’s day. That look told tales of
someone quite content to hinder others so long as it did not take her out of
her way but it was gone so quickly, he wondered if he had perhaps imagined it.
The
packed lines of students trying to get information from the hapless staff in
the Administration offices moved slowly and there were always others shifting
here and there, hoping for a quick advantage. The security guard posted off to
one side, almost out of sight, kept the more obnoxious from pressing their
advantage with any powers they might possess.
James was
left remarkably alone, however, moving along with the lethargic pace. He was
able to listen in on the problems of the students before him, inviting curious
or amazed glances in turn. The young man with the large, stainless steel
briefcase was checking on the possibility of storing a plane at the nearby
airport. The Asian girl reconfirming the arrangements for her horse, in
particular, left him with a wistful feeling. Perhaps he did not have to abandon
Whiskers, after all. But such wishes were out of time and beyond remedy.
Finally
arriving for his own turn before the harried seeming staff, he quickly passed
over the documents with the details of the scholarship and all of the other
assorted paperwork. Raising his voice to be heard, he reflexively jerked his
hand back as the woman took the file, “I have my m…”
“Not
right now, what do you need… James?” She quickly glanced over the file, trying
to see what crisis might be coming for this one.
“I was
just told to report here when I arrived, something about a guide?”
Having
found the insert she needed, she quickly put two papers in separate piles and
put the folder on a rack of similar ones before turning back to the child,
“Alright, stand over there near the security guard and I will have another
student over as soon as possible to take you to the cottage. There will be
someone there to take a group of freshman on a tour of the campus. Now, go
along.”
James
shrugged and moved over to the indicated portion of wall. The security officer
blinked and rubbed his arm and stepped away as he took up his position, looking
around with a faint frown. After a decent interval of time, the young man with
the silver briefcase came over, one hand holding a thick, manila envelope that
he extended in offer, “Mrs Shudengo asked me to bring your introductory packet.
There are maps inside but our dorms are close together. Come on, kid. I’m Steve
but I think I am going to go by RocketMan.”
As they
left the overcrowded confines of the red brick building to head to their
cottages, the boys continued to talk, “James. Rocket Man? You like Elton John?”
“What do
you mean?”
“RocketMan. It was a song of his, pretty good, too.”
“Oh, you
have to be joking me. I suppose that is out, then. I had thought about Mechano
Man but I thought people might think I was a Deviser or Gadgeteer, maybe.”
It was
James’ turn to look confused at that, “Devis… oh, never mind, I remember now.
What are you, then?”
Steve
gave a brief rundown of his ability to bond with vehicles and James responded
in kind with a vague account of his aging and sleep ‘difficulties’. For the
time being, he did not mention the reaction his presence caused. He had already
seen Steve give him an odd glance a time or two and rub at his arm or neck when
the crowds forced James to veer within a foot of him.
The
journey across campus was not difficult, just crowded, and there were already
four others clustered about the trees shading the entrance to Emerson Cottage
when James arrived. He took up a spot against one of them and acknowledged the
greetings and introductions with a quiet reply of his own, “Uhh… James. Hey.”
A tall,
dark-haired young man soon came to join the five clustered about the front
door. He looked from one to the others, green eyes boring into each of them
from his pallid face as he introduced himself and called them to order,
“Gentlemen, come along. I do not want to waste time. I am Cyril Huntley but you
will refer to me as Nex and as little as possible, at that. Understood? Good. I
will be showing you the campus.”
Cyril
looked about at the gathered students, nodding slowly. At least with everyone
returning to campus, no one had to shepherd more than six of the little punks
around. He looked over his five and focused in on one, checking a sheet of
paper in one hand, “I believe we shall start with Ian. Go ahead.”
James
closed his eyes and leaned up against the tree, whispering to himself as the iPod
started playing Good Charlotte, “Please…. Do not let him ask about my powers,
just not right now.” The ebb and flow were slightly warmer than usual and he
gave the tree a caress, shaking off a faint dizziness amidst the cyclical
‘draw’. Feeling someone’s attention, he opened his eyes and straightened as he
stepped away from the tree with a nervous smile to Huntley.
The other
three boys had already told of their powers and now the last looked like he was
itching for the chance. Their guide shook his head and turned to him, “Yes,
Larry? Finson… Mr. Finson, I do believe your father was also in Emerson
Cottage, correct?” With the nod of affirmation, Cyril motioned to the boy to
explain his powers now.
Larry
almost preened as he got his chance to explain his powers, “Hey… Larry Finson.
Get this, I can do things to females when we touch, healing, read their minds a
bit or knock them out and stuff. It does not work on guys at all and it works
better with closer contact. That and it feels really good. I was going to call
myself Succubus, you know, those sex demons?”
James
coughed and, in the quiet between the snickers, suggested quietly, “Ahhh… you
mean Incubus, right, like the band? A succubus is a female demon, man.”
The
others started laughing and adding in their own suggestions as Larry turned
red, “Yah, Larry the Succubus. Going to call yourself Laura?” “Maybe you should
move over to Dickinson!” “No, Loralie, Loralie!”
James
started as Nex broke up the razzing, stern voice cutting through the strident
tones of rampaging adolescents, “Settle down. You must think before you just
ramble upon such matters, Mr. Finson, legacy or not. Alright, now we can begin
our tour. Come along.” The others spared a brief glance for James, one with
narrowed eyes, but turned and followed along as indicated with the final boy
never having introduced himself.
The boy
tuned out the almost droning words, closing his eyes and just focusing on the
lyrics in his ear. He kept enough awareness to continue on with the group as
they moved away from Emerson Cottage and towards the campus proper.
Their
guide explained further after a warning, “As amusing as some of you might find
it, I will not hear any of you referring to this place as Hogwart’s or the JediAcademy or any such nonsense. I hope that this is clear enough.”
The
menacing tone and the total lack of a sense of humour communicated clearly to
the boys and they nodded almost in unison. It seemed better to tread lightly
here.
Cyril
gave passing mention to the buildings as they passed them but seemed more
intent on finishing the task than answering questions. Even the broad
locker-lined hallways and majestic environs of Schuster Hall was given short
shrift after he explained that classrooms were here on the second floor, labs
on the third floor and the gymnasium could be found in the basement.
Hustling
the new students along the required rounds, Nex did slow down upon the elevator
ride for a demonstration. As the elevator closed, he tapped two buttons rapidly
in sequence, ‘alarm-close-alarm-close’. The green stone set in the ring on his
hand gleamed as he explained, the formerly clunky ride becoming markedly
smoother, “That sequence will work on any elevator in the school and it is how
you will access the underground tunnels once you have received your secure area
pass. Now, however, we are almost done. Back for the required view of the HomerGallery and then lunch and I can drop you off back at the
cottage.”
Safely
returned to the first floor after the brief and unfruitful interlude in the
basement accessway, our guide brought us to the impressive entry hall. Cyril
approached a trim, older black woman in a blue dress who had taken up residence
in one of the comfortable chairs, “Mrs. Linford? I need to get into the HomerGallery for freshman orientation.”
Mrs. Linford
responded in her warm alto, “Of course. You have about 30 minutes before the
next group should be here but do not dawdle.” She clipped over to a set of
double doors with a bust of Homer set into a niche beside the doorway. Linford
gripped the dome of Homer’s head and pushed back. The bust swung back revealing
a lock set into the base of the bust. She inserted the key, and a panel in the
doorjamb swung open, revealing a card-slot and a keypad. Mrs. Linford swiped a
card and punched in a combination. There was a sound of bolts being withdrawn,
and she pulled one of the doors open.
The guide
acknowledged the deadline as he led the new students into the gallery, “Right,
Mrs. Linford. What we have here is the HomerGallery, which is where we keep mementos
of prominent alumni. The very nature of this place requires that we keep it
locked off most of the time, just in case anyone who should not know these
things drops by.”
Nex took
them through a couple of exhibits, a symmetrical stack of gold, one of
Champion’s old uniforms. On the way out, he slowed as if thinking about
something and headed back towards the Champion exhibit. Stopping at a large oil
portrait on the other side of the room from it, he sighed and added, “Last
thing. Lord Paramount, Prince of Walachia. He and Dracula here have to be shown to all incoming freshman.
There, we have seen it, we can get out of here.” He waved off any questions,
obviously a bit irritated at the requirement or perhaps it was just the
continued presence of the freshmen.
As Mrs. Linford
locked the Gallery with 10 minutes to spare, Cyril added, “If you really want
to, you can come back and ask her to view the gallery. Pick up a guide, they
will tell you about each of the exhibits.” The woman looked a bit irked as she
returned to her office and we headed off towards the cafeteria.
Two of
the boys nearby in the back of the group began to talk as we approached the
huge geodesic crystal dome, “Hey, talk about lunch, did you hear about the
dragon that woke up in the middle of a national park a week ago? Apparently, he
ate some livestock, a person or two and then just disappeared. Get this… they
found this big rifle and some equipment just laying in the middle of a cave…
not a mark on ‘em. What ya think it did to the poor guy?” “Added ketchup. He
was crunchy.” They quieted down as our solemn guide glared at them, sweeping
his hand towards the inside of the dome, displaying the wide spaces, trees and
plants revealed within the enclosure. “This part is called Crystal Hall. Cafeteria
and dining areas. Everyone, go ahead and get something to eat and then I will
take you back to the cottage.”
James
moved away from the others, sighing as he sank into a seat against one of the
trees off to one side, half shielded from the main area. The ebb and flow was
so soothing after the press of bodies and people. He saw a girl approaching his
shelter and shifted a bit, watching her approach carefully and bringing a hand
to his side to lower the volume of the music echoing in his right ear.
The girl
raised a glass half-full of water and extended it to James. As they neared
contact, however, both of them drew back, she with a slight grimace, “Hey
there, I’m Kristen. You alright? Here with your folks to drop off a brother or
sister?”
James
shook his head as she placed the water on the ground near his legs, folded
beneath him and to his left as he leaned against the tree. “Ahh… no. I am on
the orientation tour?” His quiet voice almost made it a question and he leaned
forward, securing the glass and giving a nod of thanks or appreciation as he
just held it, “… thank you, though.”
Kristen
straightened up, the odd chill and James’ manner absolving her impulse to check
up on the kid hiding by the tree, “Oh, okay then. Nice to meet you.” She gave
him another look and then moved back to join a mixed group at one of the
tables.
* *
*
The boy
stayed there for awhile after the young woman went back to her companions, just
relaxing against the tree. All too soon, however, he could see Cyril Huntley
begin to gather his wayward charges once more and he levered himself from the
ground. Giving the free a gentle pat, almost a benediction, he moved to follow
along after the others.
Nex
seemed relieved as they headed back towards the cottages, his obligation met
and the brats soon to be anywhere other than around him. The new freshman hung
back, giving him plenty of space so that he would not glare at them as they
talked quietly again.
As they
walked around the cluster of pine trees to turn down the path towards Emerson
Hill, James was lost in thought as he stretched out his hand. The ebb and flow
brought him back to himself, he could almost feel a burning in his hand and he
stopped, amazed, just in time to hear a soft miau.
Rounding
the tree with the unusual warmth of contact fading already as he lifted his
hand, James looked down to see a very familiar form. He stared at her for a
long time, unbelieving.
Meanwhile,
Larry noticed their tagalong had paused and turned back to call, “Hey, kid,
come on. His Lordship is going to get pissed off… what’s wrong?”
The
succubus-to-be was approaching the tree as James roused himself from his
stupor. He reached down to her and, as he felt a familiar warmth, he began to
shiver in relief. How had she gotten here?!
The
kitten began to purr as she was cradled in the young man’s hands and he quickly
brought her to his chest and within his jacket as Larry rounded the tree and
asked again, “What’s wrong? Come on.”
James gave
him a furtive look, hunched over a bit as he replied quietly, almost guiltily,
“Ahh… not feeling very well all of a sudden. Come on, we better catch up,
right?” He quickly moved out of the tree’s shadow and towards the dorm, looking
back over his shoulder every so often.
The
redhead shrugged off the odd behavior. It is only to be expected of someone so
young.
The rest
of the trip back to Emerson Cottage was uneventful other than a few odd looks
at the unusual antics from the youngest student. Even the brief interview with
Mr. Dunne went fairly well. The house father seemed a bit concerned about the
notice that a mover was waiting to bring some things in but shrugged it off. He
was accustomed to the antics of the spoiled young men typically assigned to his
care.
* *
*
James
looked around the small room and reached a hand beneath the concealing pillow,
smiling as he imagined the hidden kitten nipping and tugging at his fingertips.
The
shielded lights were already set up around the desk and mound of pillows. There
had been a bit of difficulty about having one of the two beds removed but after
he explained that he did not sleep, he did manage to get permission from.
He
breathed a sigh of relief as he looked over at the empty side of the room. No
one else was here yet to take over that space. He had a bit of time to think of
what to do with Whiskers. She might have somehow gotten here but it did not
mean he would be able to keep her.
Fishing
her out from her cover, he lifted her up and brought her to his face, asking
quietly, “What am I going to do with you. There are no pets here… you…” His
eyes crossed as they tried to follow the tongue slipping out between the needle
like kitten fangs and running along his nose.
“Whatever
we do, it has to be before tonight. There will be dorm parties the next couple
of nights and YOU do not belong out there where someone might see you and who
knows when I will get a room mate. But for now…”
Sighing,
he looked about the empty spaces once more before returning to the few comics
he had brought with him, now scattered upon the pillows atop the ‘freedom gift’
he had gotten himself: a laptop computer, shielded and extravagant in
capability. At the time, he had told himself that it would be useful at school
but he knew it was just because his father might have gotten him one. Shaking
off the momentary flash of guilt, he deposited the lethargic kitten amidst the
cushions once more and curled up with the comics, starting with an old X-Men.
James
thumbed through the comic book absently, wondering what it would be like if
Rogue used her powers on Mystique. Well, the comic book Rogue, that is. She was
cool. That cartoon on TV now was just silly and totally different from the
comics, just like the movies but… not even good. Imagine, she could just make
herself whatever she wanted to be, no one would ever know her. She would so be
a better spy than Darkholme, just absorb their memories.
The
comics provided a welcome relief from his worry but after a couple of hours,
the sun bathing the room in a wash of light, he tired of them. Leaving them
scattered on the floor, he dug out the kitten from the pillows and once more
tucked her beneath his coat.
Leaving
the room, he found others still arriving and being taken in turn upon their own
tours. Noticing a few of the groups leaving and returning, he had an idle wish
that he had arrived later. Most of these groups seemed to be under the care of
less… unlikable guardians. But there was nothing to do about that now.
Sneaking
the kitten out of the dorm proved not too difficult as a number of the freshmen
and others about already seemed to have unconsciously or consciously reached
the decision to give a decent distance to James. He still caught a few whispers
and a glare or two as he abandoned the cottage environs for the solitude of the
tended paths and nearby trees.
He
relaxed in this manner for what seemed a timeless eternity, the shelter of the
trees affording Whiskers and he the opportunity to play and talk. He impressed
on her the need for secrecy and he imagined he could feel her amongst the ebb
and flow between them. As night began to fall, he shoed her away with an
admonition to meet him back here tomorrow and hide. No one and nothing else
could see her here. The final caress and the returning lick of his fingers
seemed warmer than normal but he shrugged that off. After watching her bound
into the underbrush, he curled up with a sad smile.
He wanted
to stay here. The faint woodland sounds and half-seen shapes were almost
solemn. However, he had to return to the cottage, eventually. It was likely
better if he did so now.
* *
*
NINJA
ATTACK: September
6, 2006
He had
gotten into a bit of trouble with Mr Dunne when he returned but that did not
dissuade James from his path. The next two days continued to find him slipping
out of the dorms whenever possible and disappearing into the woods surrounding
the cottages. He had gotten into the habit of ducking into the cafeteria during
odd hours when the staff were about and getting food to bring to Whiskers. This
could not keep on in the same manner, though. It was beginning to look
suspicious.
Returning
home to his computer and new roommate was the order of business as he lingered
for one last moment amongst the trees. He was just turning down the path to
Emerson Cottage when a loud shout from the main area of campus drew his
attention.
There
seemed to be something happening around the big building with the brick tower
on the north end. For a second, James thought he saw something against the observatory
dome but whatever it was quickly dropped from sight.
Shrugging,
he began to move that way, soon joined by a number of people exiting the
cottages in the wake of the shout. As he got closer, he noticed a couple of
girls in nightclothes facing five black-clad figures. People were already
starting to comment as the two groups seemed to be fighting. James even saw a
security patrol off to one side unlimber weapons and disperse as he heard a
faint chattering.
Another
pair of girls arrived just as he did. At least one of these managed to get
dressed before all of this and he ducked his head with a darkness-hidden blush
as he realized the faintly familiar girl with the blue grey hair… well, never
let it be said that a nightgown concealed all that much on a flyer.
He
listened to some of the comments around him as he snuck admiring glances
through his concealing hair. They were so beautiful, it would have been more
than anyone could expect to not be a bit interested.
James
ended up gravitating towards a knot of students from his cottage. He listened
as one of the older ones, swarthy and with kind of shaggy black hair, said as
he approached, “And that, boys and girls, is what we call an entrance.” There
was a distinct note of satisfaction in that comment and he seemed to be
watching the flyer in the nightgown closely..
Larry
from the campus tour was also nearby and asked, “Which? The screaming
nose-dive, or the arrogant float down?”
“Either. Both.”
The two
shared an appreciative nod and chuckle as I moved back. More and more people
were arriving as things settled down, especially after the explosion. James was
also beginning to feel a bit dizzy. Something strange was definitely going on.
He ended
up heading back to Emerson. The shielded lights focused about his desk seemed
to be doing a good job of easing the dizziness or maybe it was just getting
away from all those people.
He spent
most of the night like that, making certain to keep the visible light filter on
as he glanced over to the cluttered side of the room. He had not yet caught
sight of his room mate and it was beginning to bug him a little. The guy seemed
to always be sleeping.
In the
morning, as the room mate began to stir, he left a note on the other desk and
quickly sneaked out of the dorm to enjoy the sunrise. The wash of the rising
sun over his face, the imagined warmth and general… contentment of the moment
did not quite blind him to the other goings on in the early light. He noticed
one or two people jogging as he drifted along with the sound of Avril Lavigne
from his iPod this morning. Toys were fun.
Still,
the looming presence of the dreaded First Assembly (capitals required) and
First Day of Class (ditto) brought he and the other early risers from their
assorted diversions.
The assembly
itself seemed to be proceeding in a surprisingly orderly fashion as he got back
to the cottage. As he was dispersing the pingers (as most of the older students
referred to the secure access passes), Mr. Dunne was explaining that the
students were seated according to cottage placement and Emerson would strictly
follow that idea. Freshmen, sophomores, juniors and seniors would be seated by
some esoteric status hierarchy known only to the seniors and Mr Dunne himself.
As they
filed into the auditorium, James noticed that this status seemed to have
something to do with powers and appearance. The better looking and those with
more power, especially mental power, seemed to ranked higher than their less
fortunate peers. He ended up being placed in the mid-end of the freshmen
somehow and settled down to a long wary speech, hemmed in between other
students. All of them were doing their best to stay away from each other but
the glares showed the difficulty in that.
As the
speech went on from the impressive Mrs. Carson, he began to become aware of
some murmuring from the middle of the student body. He turned down the gain on
the music and could catch bits and pieces of someone closer to the front
lampooning the speech. It almost sounded like he imagined MST3K would be like.
A couple of times, James barely kept from laughing outright but he managed to
keep that impulse in check.
He perked
up a bit as he noticed her holding something up and then groaned as he
recognized a very familiar case. That looked exactly like the shell on his own
laptop. As more information was forthcoming, he could not help a rueful chuckle
as he noticed the only slight differences. He did like the idea of the senior
pranks and hoped that he might get one of those, just to see.
The
assembly broke up and James managed to escape with only a few disgruntled
couple and an accidental brush against someone. His heart was still pounding in
his chest as he headed for his first class. Checking the schedule map he had
printed up for himself last night after getting his schedule from Mrs. Hawkins,
he made his way to Miss Devlin’s English class.
There
were some initial difficulties during the first day of classes but not all of
them were related to him and James began to relax. Even the odd tickle as he sneaked
some more bits of chicken and tuna out of the cafeteria during lunch time to
give to Whiskers later failed to faze him.
After
lunch, the Hacking Theory class went alright and they even received their own
laptops as they shuffled from the room. Most were disappointed to learn that
they were not actually the first to receive them, however. The word processing
class down the hall had been playing with theirs for the last hour.
By the
time he trudged out of the lab on the third floor, however, James was stiff
with tenseness. There was not a single song he found to distract him enough for
relaxation and he could barely concentrate on the introduction to electronics
or the cute lab assistant with the eggs.
By the
time the first day of school was over, he was ready to cry and almost ran off
when he saw a note on the school letterhead attached to his door. Drawing a
deep breath, he took it down and discovered it was just a notice that he had
been assigned for priority evaluation in the morning at 3am. Recalling an earlier lecture about leaving the cottage
unannounced after curfew, he went down to the first floor and told Dunne of the
appointment before slipping out into the woods for some welcome time with
Whiskers and no one about. He heard a patrol once or twice but managed to slip
by them with no ill effects.
The time
with his partner, playing and talking beneath the silent trees with their
ridged, craggy trunks, more than a few showing old scars and marks, served to
put him in a better frame of mind for the events to come.
* *
*
Evaluation Lab: Sep 8, 2006
The kid
started and looked up as a young, unkempt man in a lab-coat called out a name,
holding up a chart, “James Bourne? Is there a James Bou…”
Rising
from his seat, he made a hesitant gesture to attract the man’s attention and
skirted the moving statue in the seat next to his. The harried technician
nodded briskly and turned, muttering to himself, “The start of the term,
‘priority’ cases, exploding blood AND test ranges… what else can go wrong?”
Ducking
his head, James silently followed, hand reaching out almost without thought to
brush the small potted plant on the receptionist’s desk. He paused for only a
brief moment to look back towards the secure door wistfully but the technician
was already snapping, “Come on, kid, you’re holding things up.”
James
clenched his jaw as he followed along after the brusque technician.
* * *
“Well,
what do we have here?”
The
doctor seemed friendly enough, stepping away and brushing a hand over the
raised hairs on his arm as he looked over James’ chart for awhile before
turning back to him, allowing a brief smile to grace his somewhat homely
features, “Alright then, let’s just have us a bit of a chat first, alright?
Things are running a bit behind tonight, this morning, whatever but we do need
to get you checked out with a physical and a somewhat more complete evaluation.
Sound good to you?”
James
nodded briefly but held his hands up, scooting back and shaking his head as the
doctor approached with an odd expression, “Ahhh… yes, I understand but… about
the physical…?” He fell silent, looking very nervous and drumming his fingers
together.
Sighing,
the older man crouched to put his face on the same level as his patient’s,
softening his voice a bit, “Come now, lad, it is not all that to fuss over. We
will just go out, get a wee bit of a tune-up, check the oil, rotate the
tires….”
The
brogue in the man’s voice brought a smile to the child’s face but he again just
shook his head, “No, I mean… it… is awkward. People… do not like getting really
close. It feels weird.” He stumbled a bit, ill at ease with something.
Straightening
and brushing his lab coat, the doctor said, “Ahhh, I understand. I did not see
mention of that. So, how about you tell ol’ Doc Kemmel how we are going to get
around this while I check up on things.”
James
nodded briskly and sighed a bit as he answered, “Yeah, sorry about that, sir. I
just… you know. It… is safe enough, it just feels weird. I would not stay
really close though. It’s something that has gotten worse over the last year or
two, since… uhh… mom sent those tests.” He looked a bit crestfallen for a
moment, ducking his chin against his chest and just looking down at the
hospital gown.
Dr. Kemmel
finally found what he was looking for and turned back, still smiling, “Buck up
there, lad, I did see that. It will be alright. Is there anything to be done
about it or am I going to have to send you to one of your school’s… ahh,
‘specialists’? This information needs to be on file but…”
Biting at
his lip, James shrugged, “I do not know, sir. It just… depends, I guess. You
can do observation but direct contact, or even really, really close, like this,
can be… bad.” He held up his fingers about half an inch apart. The light
flickered upon something, the boy’s fingertips, in fact, and the physician
brought a pen up to scratch a brief note within the medical file.
Kemmel
agreed quickly, “Good, good. We shall get all we can done and I will place a
note for the school’s staff to complete the rest of the physical when possible.
You are going to be good and go through with the evaluation, at least, however.
It sounds like it is a bit more important than before, don’t you think?”
James
perked up and nodded, his gleaming teeth again pulling at his lip, “Yes, sir. Just…
sorry. I really do not mean it.”
“Pish tosh.
Let me hear none of that. Okay, first things first, how long have you noticed
these crystalline additions to your skin? What are your thoughts on the
matter?”
His head
cocked to one side, James suggested, “Actually…” He motioned towards the laden
backpack lying atop the black jeans and long-sleeved shirt. “There is a file.”
With an
arched eyebrow, Kemmel moved over and unzipped the bag, pulling out a somewhat
thicker folder and holding it up, “This what you are talking about, son? Why do
we not have this already? It seems a bit unorthodox for a lad your age to be
carrying around your own medical file.” He opened it up and started to leaf
through it, the innermost pages identical to those in his own file as if merely
a more recent version.
James
quickly reassured him, “It… I… found records of my father’s in some of the
things I requested when I requested to reopen my m… parents’ request here.” He
stumbled a bit as he continued his explanation, looking everywhere except at
the doctor, “I had requested that all such files be transferred up here, of
course, and my case file but they… I do not know. Maybe got caught up or
something? But that has… ahh, my last physical, when I got out of the hospital?
And some things my mom had gotten done before everything. There was another
wizard’s evaluation, I know. Oh… and… it mentioned it in your file but… I… I am
not THAT young. I am almost 15.”
Kemmel
looked nonplussed for a moment, nodding as he checked the larger file once
again, “Yes, indeed, 91… the retarded aging mentioned in my file seems to have
continued… hrm.”
James
sounded a bit bitter as he replied, “Yes, sir… I have the power to never grow
up and to make people sick… I should call myself Peter Pan.”
Managing
a chuckle at the observation, the doctor reached out and tousled the boy’s
streaked brown hair before he could pull away, stoically shoving aside the
sinking, pulling sensation he encountered before his hand departed the dyed
strands. “Ugh… sit still, me boyo, no harm done. Seems a bit better already.”
The hint
of pallor to the man’s skin, quickly fading but still there, belied his words
but the boy spread his hands upon the cushioned tabletop, drawing in his
breath, “Ahhh… yes, sir.” Faint traces of lines upon each arm caught Kemmel’s
attention but merely caused another scribble within the file.
“Raise
your arms there, lad. Back to those growths. Does your file note the location
of all of them?” The doctor spent a bit of time referring from paper to body
and back, nodding to himself as he noted that the file did indeed cover each of
the minute traces, his own observations confirmed by the case notes of Dr.
Albert Lake, MemorialMedicalCenter. Noting a psychiatric consult and
a sheaf of notes beneath, his eyes widened and he brought a red marker from his
coat pocket and circled something, closing the file to make a brief note.
The rest
of the observation continued in a similar manner with the garrulous old doctor
brought in for the physicals slowly trying to work the boy out, jotting notes
upon the file and generally just setting him at ease. Not even a brief scare
when blood was drawn proved to be beyond Dr Kemmel and the nurse.
After
they had gotten the information it seemed feasible to get from the physical, Dr
Kemmel told James, “Go ahead and get dressed, me boyo. They are backed up in
Evaluation right now but you need to be back here at 10am sharp for your appointment. Understand, I would suggest
getting you in now somehow but that is not how things are done. Go along, enjoy
the morning.”
James
nodded in appreciation and recovered his belongings. He looked a bit troubled
as he ran his hands over the dimpled graphite of the laptop he drew out to
arrange things to his satisfaction once more but then, he had seemed
uncomfortable for the entire physical. Dr Kemmel nodded thoughtfully and put
another note on the sheet and spoke quietly with the nurse after the boy had
departed.
* *
*
“Homework,
please. Hand it to the student in front of you, and pass it up to the
front of each row.”
James
watched from the back of the class as almost everyone groaned at the
announcement, coming just after the bell had settled everyone into their seats
and rendered them quiet.
Miss
Devlin seemed amused as she noticed, “I see that some of you apparently didn’t
bother with your first night of homework.”
No one
seemed ready to make any response other than a general, low key grumbling. The
teacher seemed to expect something but finally stopped waiting to ask, “Well,
isn’t anyone going to tell me that they have super powers now, and they don’t
need to study stupid stuff like nouns and verbs?”
No
confessions seemed forthcoming from the class, just some scattered mutters and
finally Miss Devlin was forced to ask again, “Oh, come on. There’s always
one.”
After the
uneasy silence went on for quite some time, James finally sighed to himself and
raised his hand.
“Yes?”
He
cleared his throat. “Excuse me, Miss Devlin, but we have super powers
now, and I don’t see why we need to study stuff like nouns and verbs.”
That
seemed to amuse the teacher, earning a wry smile. She proceeded to show the
class pieces of a news report to demonstrate her point. The television and VCR
in the front left corner of the room drew everyone’s attention. The discussion
following the piece showed a definite recognition of her point. The buffoonish
‘hero’ came off second-best due to his difficulties.
The class
ended upon a good note and James remained in his seat for a moment, watching the
other students filter out until it was finally clear enough for him to slip out
without being pressed in the crowd. He had to move quickly, though, to get to
his next class in time.
The class
was a bit more sparsely populated than the English class and he again slipped
into an out of the way chair near the back. He blinked as he noticed a young
Asian girl about his size. A wistful smile played across his lips for a moment
as he remembered watching her during English class but he quickly averted his admiring
gaze in case she might feel watched.
Algebra
seemed like it might turn out to be fairly simple, however, and he found
himself shifting in his seat, looking to the clock to check the time. About ten
minutes into the class and after the teacher had finished her opening lecture,
he left his chair to leave a note on the teacher’s desk as she started to move
amongst the students with questions. At least Mrs. Bell did not assign homework
the starting day.
His
excuse delivered, he sneaked out of the classroom and ran for the stairs so
that he would be on time for the further evaluation. The medical wing was still
in brisk use as he arrived. Three other students were waiting for the guard to
open the secure area door in the lower areas of Siegel Hall.
There
were a number of nurses waiting for the others so the small knot of techs
seemed destined for him. He noticed that same unkempt man from his prior visit.
He was talking to an overweight man in an overburdened lab coat. The older man
turned when James entered and moved his way with a genial smile and a note pad
at the ready, “Hello, you must be Mister Bourne!”
The boy
was a bit taken aback at the exuberant greeting and replied a bit nervously, “Ahh…
yeah. James. I have an appointment?”
The
energetic old man smiled cheerfully, “Indeed, you do. I am Richard Hewley. I
will be evaluating your powers and abilities today. I understand the physical
was not completed?”
James
nodded quickly and hurried to explain, “Yes, it should be in the file, sir? I
have an aura that is a bit… uncomfortable.” He looked a bit uneasy at that,
ducking his head down.
“That
should not be a problem. Let me just get something from my office.
Mr.
Clark, could you lead the team and James to Lab 5, please, I will be right
down.”
Clark nodded to the Doctor and waved in
a peremptory fashion. James hid a faint thrill of glee at the weariness in the
man’s voice as he led the way to the lab, “Come on, kid.”
The lab
was outfitted with a wide variety of sensors and an Arabian looking man seated
in a pentagram, his eyes closed. Bourne took a moment to look at him curiously
and was startled when the man’s eyelids popped open and revealed gleaming
silver balls of fire where his eyeballs should have been.
Hewley
entered as the boy hopped back with a start, chuckling, “Oh, there were notes
from your prior testing we wanted to check out, Mister Bourne. Now, before we
begin, do you have a code name?”
James
shook his head, “No, sir, my powers are not anything useful. I do not need a
code name.”
Hewley tut
tutted that suggestion, “You never know, young man. We need something to use to
protect the confidentiality agreement but you do not have to adopt it as an
official code name.”
“Ahhh,
alright… how about… Timeless?”
“Alright,”
he said as he pulled a remote from his pocket and pressed it while pointing it
at the ceiling. “This is classification interview, 86, on Monday the 8th of September, 2006, subject Timeless. Young
man, just so you are aware, this interview will be taped, please only use your
code name from this moment forward and all aspects of the confidentiality
agreement will be kept. Timeless, I wonder if you’d mind telling me, in
your own words, what your powers are and how you think they work?”
Hewley
said this with the air of an oft-repeated catechism and James settled into the
interview process in the same manner, “I… do not know, sir. I never get tired
or sleepy, hungry or thirsty. And I seem to have stopped growing several years
ago. Oh, I seem to draw in energy from a close range about me but not so much
when I am out in the sun, somehow and it does fluctuate. Mag… err, that is,
Compile, the Wizard who did those tests? He noticed a decrease in ambient mana
level in a very low radius from my presence.”
The
doctor nodded slowly and tapped at the PDA as initial reports did not
begin to come flowing from the sensors activated by the remote, “So, you feed
on magic and use it to shield you from time somehow?” He looked around and the
technicians and wizards on duty were looking a bit frustrated, concentration
apparent on most of the faces.
James
shrugged to that, but kept looking down at his hands, “I suppose so, sir. That
must be it?” He made the statement a question but there was a definite
uneasiness in his voice.
Clark spoke up from the terminal banks,
“Doctor, we have recalibrated five times. We are getting nothing from him. It
is like he is just absorbing the active sensors and the passives are just
getting static or silence. There is something going on in the ultraviolet
range, however.”
Hewley
turned back, looking a bit perplexed, “The initial assessments did not mention
that, Timeless, can you explain?”
James
looked up and seemed as baffled as the staff, “No, sir, not at all. I do not
know… but… there are physical examinations? Dr Kemmel did some of those
yesterday, drawing blood, epithelial scrapes?”
The
magician within the pentagram spoke up, eyes a comforting hazel nearly matching
the subjects, “I can do nothing here. This creature eats of my essence, the
might that Allah has granted.”
Another
man, this one in a simple blue robe snorted and translated as his associate
stood and stalked out of the room, “Ignore him. But… Timeless does seem to
unravel magical probes and absorb them. There is less of a dent upon the manaweb
when that happens, though. Perhaps that field might be lessened through regular
maintenance?”
Dr. Hewley
nodded to the two magicians and looked to another of the terminals, “Any
information upon the physical samples collected in the physical?”
The woman
at the computer ignored the question but her cohort spoke up in her place,
“Blood chemistry and chemical makeup is definitely affected. His weight
indicates lowered density, of course, and blood test came back with unusual
composition. Silver and silver-based compounds are present as well as
abnormally low levels of cyanide but the most significant is a partial
replacement of water in blood plasma with titanium chloride. Definite signs of
dystrophy, doctor.”
There
was… something in James’ voice as he heard that and spoke up, “Dystrophy? I am
changing?”
Hewley,
still seeming quite excited at the whole process, reassured the young man, “No,
Timeless, Gross Structural Dystrophy merely means that your physical makeup is
markedly different from human baseline. We will keep an eye on things but you
will need to come in for regular retests. You might need to be placed in a
cottage suited to support any changing needs.”
James
looked a bit frightened at that thought and shook his head, “But.. I am in
Emerson already. They would not transfer me out just because of something no
one can see, would they?”
Clark spoke up at that time, having
joined the woman and the other man going over physical results, “Look at that.
His blood is clinically precise, sir, definitely Exemplar of some level. Looks
to be O- but with the odd chemical byproducts and low blood pressure, he will
not make a good donor. Do you think we could remove some of the crystal
formations, see if they might contain some of those chemicals? Maybe see how deep
they go?”
Bourne
blanched at that idea, visible even on his pale features. Dr. Hewley was
speaking up chidingly even as that happened, “Mr. Clark, please. Would you care
to have your own skin peeled off for the sake of curiousity? The ill mannered
young man does have a point, however. If you notice that the formations flake
off, we would appreciate your informing us and we will be taking a scraping for
analysis.”
Jason
nodded but something occurred to him at that and he quietly offered, “Ahh… one
problem. I do… am not certain my file mentioned it but… my senses?”
“Your
senses?”
“Yes, I
cannot really smell anything and I can barely taste anything. I mean, I CAN
eat, it just does nothing, it seems like a lead weight for awhile and why
bother when I do not need it, right? Oh… and my sense of touch is kind of
messed up as well.”
“Messed
up in what manner, Timeless. Please, be specific and provide examples and what
you think might be happening.”
“Just… I
barely feel anything. It is as if I was wrapped in fur or a towel. If I notice
it at all, it feels very faint. That and heat and cold, all of that.”
“Really?
No, that was certainly not mentioned. How is your balance?”
James
looked confused as he answered, “My balance is alright. Well, very good,
actually. Why?”
“Please
check on C fibers in those skin samples and see if there might be something
unusual going on with any attached neurons. Well, your sense of touch is
important to your balance. Let me make a note of that and we will likely need
to perform further tests. How are you responding mentally to all of this?”
“Ahhh…
alright, I guess. I mean, I suppose it is neat to be different but… I kind of
wish it was something… useful?”
“I meant
the sleeping. You do not have any difficulties with hallucinations, memory…
speech perhaps?”
“No, why
would I, sir?”
“How
about sickness, do you seem to catch a cold or the flu more often? Perhaps
things seem blurry at times?”
James
seemed to be growing more anxious at this line of questioning, shaking his
head, “No, none of that. Please, sir… what are you trying to say?”
Richard
ceased the interrogation to smile exuberantly, “Nothing at all, if we could get
good readings, we might be able to see how you are avoiding the effects of
sleep deprivation.”
James
looked much less excited at the mysterious nature of his gifts than did Dr. Hewley
as he again ducked his head and looked down at his hands while the technicians
went over their limited information thus far before going on to the next test.
* *
*
The range
of tests he had been given was breathtaking, considering that well over half of
them had to be cancelled due to the lack of ability to get the necessary
readings. The supplementary physical exams had to be deferred once again as,
even with the shielding, the techs still could not maintain close contact. He
seemed to either drain the shields or caused enough interference that the
samples were rendered useless.
Dr. Hewley
finally returned from a long, hushed conference with the others. “Sorry about
that, Mister Bourne, we were just intrigued. We are going to preliminarily
classify you as an Exemplar 2 due to mental enhancement. Energizer 2 and…” He
looked a bit tentative for a moment and nodded, slowly, “let us just call that
field Warper 2 with Natural Magic or possibly some sort of Instinctive Psychic
defense, level 3 or 4. There is just no way to tell until we come up with some
way to receive readings. We will definitely be continuing further but I want
some time to think on this. Somehow, you are drawing in ultraviolet radiation
and magic and keeping your entire body in stasis.”
James
nodded slowly to show he understood but shifted nervously. Unable to meet Hewley’s
eyes, he asked quietly, “Do you think that is it then?”
The
rotund man still looked exuberant after the drawn out three hours. James was
not quite sure what to make of it but it was kind of contagious, “Oh, I am
certain we will be able to determine more, we will just have to think of
something. However, there is a note here for you to report to Dr. Hayes in the
Counseling office following your evaluation.”
The boy
looked confused at that, “Really, sir? I already met my counselor, though.”
Hewley
nodded firmly and extended the file, “Quite certain. Now, go ahead and take
that along with you. You should have enough time but no sense being late. The
appointment is for noon.”
James
took the file and tucked it into his backpack, carefully and methodically
arranging it within the framework of the two laptops. “Thank you, sir. If you
do not mind… could we possibly arrange any further tests to not interfere with
classes, perhaps in the morning, I mean… if this is going to be regular?”
“Of
course, Mister Bourne. You are here to receive an education, as well. Your next
appointment… how about the 19th at 3am?”
James
nodded absently and headed out of the medical wing and Sigel Hall entirely. Out
in the midday sun, he looked wistfully to the
woods at the far side of campus but he did not have time to visit with Whiskers
right now. That thought left him amazed as he crossed over to Schuster Hall
only to find Whiskers gamboling down the path to the admiring comments and
glances of a number of other students.
Retrieving
the kitten, he switched channels to radio long enough to check the time. With a
few minutes to spare, he went to the shelter of a nearby pine tree and brought
the kitten up to face him directly, worry mingling with the easy ebb and flow
of the ‘draw’, “Whiskers?! What are you doing… ohhh… it is so good to see you
but… you cannot come into the middle of campus. You have to get out of here and
let NO one see you, understand? No one can see you.” He emphasized that as he
felt the warmth spike between them. He gave an exasperated sigh as he watched
her nip at his holding fingers as he bent to release her and he made a
dismissing motion.
Knowing
Whiskers would wait for awhile before heading to safety, James took a moment to
compose himself. He still felt the better for having had the chance to see her.
The reconnection gave him the impetus to jog to the Counseling office, ignoring
the occasional glare from those he passed closely or the rushing of others
intent on heading to lunch.
The
Counseling office was still in session when he arrived, however. He noticed a
stocky older man with thinning grayish brown hair exiting behind a couple of
other students and slipped in the door before it could swing close after them.
James
approached the desk and set his medical file down. “I am here to meet with my
counselor… Hayes? There was a note but there must be some mistake. I already
met with Mrs. Hawkins about my classes?”
The
blonde seated behind the desk looked up and smiling briefly to set the nervous
boy at ease before she looked down to the schedule. Straightening, she asked
him, “James Bourne? Oh, it is no big deal, advisors trade students to whoever
is best suited to handle them.” She kept herself from adding that Mrs. HAWKINS
traded students, especially. “Dr Hayes is running a bit late but she will be
finished soon. Just go ahead and sit down. Do not worry about your classes,
they will still be excused.”
James
nodded slowly and moved to rest in the indicated seats, still looking nervously
at the medical file half-hiding the secretary’s nameplate. After a short time,
the door opened and an almost liquid seeming girl came out. It seemed like… she
was a wax doll that somebody left next to a hot stove, melting even as she
moved. He looked away so as not to stare but watched her from the corner of his
eye as she shambled out. An older woman came out and called to the secretary in
a weary sounding voice, “Valerie, is my 12pm still here?”
Valerie
perked up at that and retrieved the medical file from her desk. Beckoning
James, she brought the file up to Dr. Hayes, “Here you go, Katherine. James
Bourne?” She tapped at the folder significantly before handing it off.
The woman
took a moment to glance at the folder and then open it up with a solemn
expression. After a moment of reading, she nodded absently and turned back into
her office, her voice carrying over the whisper of papers being shifted, “Come
along, James.”
The boy
stood, nervousness apparent in his stance, and followed his advisor into her
office as he noticed a couple of other students enter the Counseling office.
* *
*
Dr. Hayes
smiled with a faint edge of worry as she watched James walk away from the door,
“Good, I will see you next week, then. And I know that oversleeping is not
going to be one of the excuses you use with Valerie, is it?”
James
nodded slowly, nervous but at least a little more relaxed than when he entered
the office an hour before, “Yes, ma’am. Sorry to disrupt your lunch hour.”
Barely acknowledging her response, he departed the office to return to his
cottage and a lot of thought.
As he
slipped open the fine-grained doors to the office, he heard Dr. Hayes behind
him, “Valerie, please see to it that his file gets down to Debbie Carstairs in
Administration. Is there another session?” The weariness present in her voice
for the entire session seemed to be deeper.
* *
*
Sep
29, 2006
That conference left a lot of things for James to
think over. Most of those were thoughts about the wisdom of the course that his
actions had chosen for him.
He ducked
into the Hacking Theory class and quickly moved into his corner. As Mr Babage
turned and began class, the boy at the computer next to him whispered, “Hey,
you heard that someone tried to break into the Administration servers again
this morning?”
James
shook his head to Adam as he looked away from his monitor, “Nah, I was playing
around online this morning on Dragonrealms. You know Foxglove? Human rogue,
hangs out down in Shard? Anyway, she was helping me level someone.”
The
pizza-faced young man at the next computer rolled his eyes, “Whatever. I heard
from Snykt that she was actually a guy.”
The other
boy shrugged a bit and looked down, returning most of his focus to the classwork
but still maintaining the quiet conversation, “Who cares, it is only a game. I
mean, it would be weird if we knew her, him, whatever, of course… but… no huhu.”
“Yeah, I
suppose. Have you tried GEO yet? It is amazing. I am pretty sure I am going to
drop all my other games, anyway.”
“GEO?
What is that?”
“You have
not been paying attention. Only the best new game to be had, it blows away
nearly everything else.” The greasy haired young man continued to enthuse about
the latest MMORPG for awhile until the younger boy cut in.
“Come on,
Greasy. Get off of it, maybe later. Anyway, anything new going around school?”
“You hear
about the girl in Dickinson whose parents sent her a POLEARM
for a birthday present? I heard Duplex said it had a some spikes and something
like a pronged hammer.”
“Ravin’,
right? Long as that creepy guy you hang out with did not tell you. I mean… come
on, why do you bother? He was snooping those ninja-girls in Poe, seriously uncool.
Just stay away from him, man.”
Adam
looked uncomfortable but shrugged it off, “So what do you think of them,
anyway?”
It was
James’ turn to look uncomfortable, a bit of a blush apparent on his pale
features, “Ahh… alright, I guess. Tennyo looks so much like Ryoko from Tenchi Muyo.
I guess that would make her more demon than angel, though. She maybe should
have gone with Oni.”
“Yeah,
and the black girl is amazing. I wish Montana had not been so stupid in that duel, she won fairly and then he had
to do that…”
“Ooooh,
yeah, I heard about that. Silly, I guess, but she is supposed to be a GREAT
fighter. Someone said she totally ‘got medieval on his rear’.”
Both boys
shut up as they noticed the Goth girl off to the side glaring back at them.
What was up with /that/?