A Whateley Academy Tale
Against ill chances,
men are ever merry,
but a heaviness foreruns a good event
(Shakespeare, Henry IV)
By Renae
Saturday, October 21st,
2006. Morning.
Mirror Dance
“Sometimes my shadow
leads me or it follows but we never seem to become one and the same.” -
Shadows- Blue Man Group
Morning arrived
like it had in the past: finding me in a strange bed in a strange place. The
Langley Campus guest quarters are fairly nice I suppose, if a not a bit
generic. Take your standard expensive hotel room, sans windows and add a bar
that was stocked with sodas and juice rather than alcohol. In a small nook was
adequate computer with a large desk and executives chair, not to mention a
decent bathroom. To my annoyance several of the channels of the television were
blocked.
“Never mind
that I am doomed to being cute, but someone is trying to protect me from
inappropriate television as well.” I groused at the room in general.
I drug myself
out of bed and grimaced at my reflection in the mirror. My hair was a mess and
a bit longer, peachy. At this rate I am going to have to either go Sinead O’
Conner bald or get a pair of scissors to hack it off when it got to be a pain.
I gave the mirror a raspberry and took a moment to stretch. Admittedly I had
never been a fitness nut, though I was learning that being prepared to run like
hell was a good thing.
The shower was
draining, if not pleasantly hot and really short lived. As much as I work on
this bubble thing it doesn’t hold up well under a draining influence. Feeling
part of yourself seep down the drain is disconcerting to say the least. I was
briefly reminded of my kid sister for a moment; I had teased her about washing
herself down the drain a few times. Ah Joni, wherever you are I hope its always
fun there. I told myself the water in my eyes was only from shampoo residue,
yeah sure.
I got a bit of
a surprise when I stepped back into the room proper; someone had been in and
tidied up. “Hello?” I called out, though there was no response in return. I
edged around the corner and peeked towards the entryway. No one was present. I
took a few steps over to where my knives were resting and slid the long one out
of its sheath. Dumb Merry, really dumb. I had relaxed entirely too much,
fortunately no one was there to hurt me. The nagging voice in my head added,
‘This time.’
I drug the
chair from the table and wedged it under the doorknob, I felt marginally more
at ease after having done that. I then checked the rest of the room,
looking under the bed, through a closet full of clothing and the dressers. As
no bogymen were present, I tossed the long knife to the bed and finished drying
off. Part of me wanted to use a hair dryer. Though the last hairdryer I had
used had voided its warranty via electrical seppuku in my hands.
John had left a
note for me to wear comfortable clothing for the tests. So I picked through the
closet and drawers for a bit, eventually I selected a gray sports bra, a pair
of panties and a matching pale blue t-shirt and shorts set. To that I added a
gray tracksuit with a pair of short white sox and of all things a pair of Keds
with bright pink laces.
Which left me
with the every annoying problem of; where does one hide her weapons? I toyed
with the ring and spike, I was not going to be able to hide either it or the
long knife on me. Or at least hide them in any manner that was comfortable. The
folding knife I was able to tuck into my sports bra, no it’s not comfortable to
have it there either, nor would it be easy to get at in a hurry.
I frowned at my
two remaining weapons; eventually I was going to have to find a way to carry
them. Just not this moment, as my stomach chose that moment to announce it was
empty. I attached my security badge to the tracksuit top, and swept my wallet
and other IDs into my pockets. I spent some time trying to get my slightly damp
hair into some semblance of neatness, failing that I twisted it so that it
formed a damp and untamed ponytail. My stomach gave a few more complaints and I
abandoned project neatness with abruptness.
I paused long
enough to grab my shades, rosary and removed the chair from in front of the
door. Then I went in search of the cafeteria; fortunately I didn’t get too
lost. Though I did ask for directions one or twice, as the place is a bit maze
like.
Upon
entering the cafeteria I had one of those moments where everyone is looking at
the ‘new kid’ in school. I gave them my best, ‘you must worship the ground I
walk upon’ face. Inside I was less than happy, I –so- didn’t need a bunch of
stuffy people in suits and ties judging me. Ok, give them some credit; it is
not every day where the sanctum sanatorium of spookdom central is invaded by a
fifteen-year-old girl.
For a moment I
regarded them, the silence dragging on for a long slice of time. Then I did a
slow pirouette and asked, “Ok did everyone get a good look?”
It is amazing
that people will opt for a loud resumption of conversation when they have
figured out that they were being rude. As if being suddenly loud would cover
for their bad manners. Yes manners were a large part of my social education at
home. You can’t be the son of a deacon at semi-formal dinner and be rude. Well
not if you liked having your meal to eat or much worse the switching you got if
you were really uncouth.
Barring a few
sidelong glances and some odd half mummers as I passed, getting my food was a
bit anticlimactic. At least the first plateful was, that is. After the second
plate I was attracting several odd looks and a few comments of: “Where does she
put it” and “I’d blow up like a balloon if I ate as much as she did.” Ok, this
was my second meal here and the future of my enjoying the meals was slowly
slipping away.
Part of me was
tempted to just let all my annoyance loose, blow the circuits and eat in the
dark. Though if the flickering of the lights was any indication I needed to get
out of there before something pushed me over whatever little bit of control I
had. I finished up rapidly and took my tray to the conveyor belt to be washed.
I nearly made
it out of the cafeteria when the words, “Looks like the human food disposal is
done for the moment.” Floated out of someone’s mouth. Abruptly the only light
was that of the sun through the windows. Naturally, I kept going. Act casual,
say nothing, and pretend everything was all right.
Act
and pretend; acting was getting to be a habit. All the world is a stage and I
was stuck with the lead in a comic tragedy. I was going to have to have words
with the scriptwriter of my life, if I ever encountered him or her in the next
life. Alas poor Yorick and all that rot.
I found my room and managed to use my keycard
without the lock going ‘pop.’ I stepped into the room to the sound of rustling
papers. Looking down I could see a few scraps of paper had been pushed under my
door. My first thought was now what? The next thought was obliterated by the
words on the first piece of paper that I picked up.
“Do
yourself and the world a favor, bite a bullet.” It went on from there to get as
much shock factor as it could. “God forgives the mutant that kills herself.”
Herself was underlined. My room went dark, so did the hallway. Fortunately I
have a built in flashlight, I guess the whole teenaged mutant bit has an
occasional side benefit.
For
a moment I stood there in the darkness, mostly numb to the silence letting the
door shut of its own accord. Slowly I became aware of a faint ticking, I froze
for an ugly moment thinking ‘bomb’. Then a wave of relief poured though me, I
was clenching the rosary tightly in my other hand. I suppose subconsciously, my
mind was trying to help me stay calm, though my heart was still going
thud-thud.
Prayer
as meditation, calming and good for the soul, if not slightly repetitious, so I
went with it. Practice makes perfect as they say; with luck I could ease back
from wanting to blow all the circuits in the building. I sat down in the
darkness and folded my legs into a semblance of the martial arts Zen thing, a
lotus? What the hey, if you are going to meditate or pray you may as well look
good while doing it. If anything it will confuse people.
Eventually
I became aware of the return of the lights and later, a few hesitant knocks on
the door. I opened my eyes fully and got up, “If you are not friendly, you
better go away.” I said to my side of the closed door.
“Yep,
someone ticked her off,” was the muffled voice through the closed door. Then
louder, “It’s Bill and John, can we come in?”
I
opened the door and looked up and down the hallway, it was empty save the two
of them. I handed the piece of paper to Bill and scooped up the others and
handed them to John. “Ok, come on in, I’ll try and not put us back in the
dark.”
John
looked at the ones I handed him, “Hey this one is sort of funny.” He held up a
piece of Xeroxed art; it was a picture of someone flying through the air and
dropping rocks the size of cars, under it were the words, “Evolution Rocks:
Drop boulders on the humans.” Bill gave him a frown and handed him the piece of
paper suggesting I kill myself.
“Somehow
I don’t think it’s much funnier than that one,” he tapped it while John read
the few lines.
“So
I have what, an anti-fan club and a comedy team trying to lighten my day?” I
did my best not to fume, then I went into the bathroom and closed the door. I
grabbed the spout of the tub and took a few moments to try and push as much of
my charge into the plumbing as I could. I stopped when I was slightly woozy,
then I sat on the toilet and worked on my bubble for a bit to recover a
semblance of calm.
Tap-tap
went the door, “Just a minute.” I called out then flushed the toilet for
dramatic effect. I took a moment, inhaled, exhaled, and then opened the door
and went back into the main room.
John
looked as if someone had given him a coffee enema and it wasn’t a chilled one.
“Of all the places…” he started.
I
held up a hand to stall him out, “Yeah, I figured here was safe too.” I waved
to the chairs surrounding a round card table. “Take a load off, words on paper
can’t kill me. Though if we should ever discover who it is, I have a punch with
his or her name on it.”
Bill
sighed, “We do not need this.”
I
was happy it was a ‘we’ rather than a ‘you’ he spoke of. “Yeah, well it’s
here. Any ideas on how to stop it?”
For
a moment Bill was quiet, then he spoke. “Well aside from pissing in everyone’s
pot over it, there isn’t much we can do.” He wasn’t happy.
“It’s
like high school all over again. You could yell and let everyone know you are
upset by it. Or you let it slide off. Either they give up or they find a new
way to cause you grief.” John frowned. “I don’t know, we could always go
someplace else. It’s not like the CIA is the only agency out there.”
“I
am tempted, though as long as it stays at the level of notes under the door. I
can get good at selective reading.” I offered.
“What
was with breakfast today?” asked Bill.
“Well,
my diet is not exactly inconspicuous. Take an acre of stares, add a jerk with a
big mouth and some irritation on my part and you get?” I left off there and
shrugged.
“Ah.”
said John then he smiled lightly. “You’ll get a grip on it.”
“Speaking
of getting a grip on it.” Bill shrugged slightly, “Don’t you two have an
appointment somewhere?”
“I
called down to put it on hold a bit. I figured if Merry was calmer things might
go smoother,” offered John with a waggle of a finger at me.
“Yeah
who knows what I’ll blow up if I am not relaxed,” I commented with some
bitterness.
“Hey
now, the building isn’t on fire and we’re still alive and kicking. One moment
at a time Merry, you can’t go from crawling to running in a single day.” Bill
tapped the table. “On the note of days; the feds have an odd quirk for you to
work around. Your being a minor, forces them to make sure you ‘only’
work for four hours a day at the most, no more than twenty hours in the week.”
“Well
that is just plain stupid, who do we talk to in order to get that changed?” I
shook my head, I used to put eight hours or more online after school per night
and all day on the weekends.
Bill
was looking at his hands that were flat on the table before him. I don’t know
how we can get around it, here. The Child Labor Laws are pretty stiffly
worded when it comes to what a minor can and cannot do. Look at it this way;
you are not a sidekick.”
John chuckled, “No I probably fall under that
category.”
“Nope
we are a team, you watch my back I watch yours. Speaking of watching our
backs, did either of you get a maid or something like one to walk in and tidy
things up for you too?” I asked.
“Yes, it is
part of the regular housekeeping they do here. Why?” asked Bill with a hint of
puzzlement in his voice.
“Mine came in
while I was showering, sorta surprised me to find my stuff neatened up.” Ok, so
I was down playing the bit of terror.
“Wonderful.”
John frowned, “Did you scare them?”
“No, but if
they can wander in, anyone else could as well. Just be cause you are paranoid…”
I waggled a hand to point at my head.
“Doesn’t mean
they are not out to get you,” finished Bill. “I’ll put in a word or two about
the time they can come in and what not.”
I pointed to my
other two weapons. “I need something I can hide easier and get to when things
go screwy.”
“When, not if?”
asked John.
“Hey its me…” I
countered. “So far the only things constant in my life is; you folks, being a
weirdo mutant something and trouble.”
“Something
being?” Bill looked at me for a moment and I pointed to my groin. “Ah. You’ll
sort that out sooner or later.”
“As in I got
enough stuff to worry about as it is?” I offered sarcastically.
“Bingo. As to
which, if you can be sarcastic you probably are fit to deal with a batch of odd
tests.” John pointed out.
Part of me was
looking forwards to figuring out what I was. The other half of me was screaming
run and hide. “OK. So where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
Great, now John is playing games.
“I’ll deal with
housekeeping and see what sort of toys and such I can round up for you Merry.
You freaked the suits the other day with your act in the subway.” Bill looked
amused. “You were acting weren’t you?”
“Hey so I don’t
react well to idiots, its not like I shot the guy,” I countered.
“Acting?” he
prompted again.
I sighed “More
or less, you how it goes, you just do whatever seems right at the moment. If it
involves waving a gun and being tough as nails; well I’ll try.” Yes I was tap
dancing around the subject somewhat: Part of me ‘had’ enjoyed frightening the
security guard.
“From what I
hear you succeeded in being scary,” laughed John as he stood up and pushed his
chair back.
“People don’t
react well to having a cute lady pointing a gun at them and offering to
castrate them.” Bill snorted with some bemusement.
I wanted to
roll my eyes but I settled for a slight frown. “Cute, in all that body armor?”
I sighed.
Bill shrugged
and kept his mouth shut, but I could tell he was struggling to keep from
laughing. I stood and looked at the mirror, cute, me… Maybe. “Is there a place
to buy stuff in this warren?”
“Yep, and a
gift shop too,” commented Bill, “Why?”
I toyed with my
unruly hair, “I need some ‘stuff’.”
“Ah, yeah you
didn’t get to go shopping the other day,” Bill noted absently.
“Yep,
everything in that was my pack has to be replaced as well. Not too mention the
unmentionables.” I lifted one shoulder and dropped it by way of declaring what
the unmentionables where.
“But there you
go, you mentioned them,” kidded John with a grin.
I stalked to
where my bed was and picked up a pillow, Bill was laughing when I walked back
and ‘bopped’ John with it. I dropped the pillow into my chair while John
struggled to keep a solemn face. “Come on bro, we got a date with the
weirdoes.”
-----------------
The ride to the
testing center was via a beefed up golf cart. Along the way we picked up a
four-man security squad, inwardly I sighed. Bill’s prediction about being
better guarded than the President wasn’t that far off. The driver was playing
tour guide as we went along. Langley does have some cool stuff around it not to
mention memorial art. I did was going to make a point to check out the Cryptos
Memorial later on, as it seemed interesting, all those coded letters and stuff.
The testing
center was a wide heavily reinforced building, one story tall and it was in the
process of a remodel; or seemed like it as one wall was being reworked where a
ten-foot tall hole gaped. The driver commented that we had missed the fire
works a few days earlier, as testing went ‘bump,’ as he put it.
The check in
process was fairly smooth, slide the card, put stuff in the tray, and then walk
through the metal detector. Beep. Step aside, get the wand treatment, inwardly
I was cursing my knife I had hidden in my bra. Fortunately for me the wand
died, so did the next one and the next one after it. Yes I was on edge, part of
me was not happy at the prospect playing lab rat for a bunch of people I didn’t
know.
John was giving
me a thoughtful expression; I shrugged at him. Seriously, after my hate mail
this morning I wasn’t giving up an edge if I didn’t have to. After a time they
decided that testing was more important that figuring out what made the metal
detector go beep. I wasn’t going to say anything, let them assume it was a
glitch on the side of my powers. Well it wouldn’t exactly be too far off the
target on their part.
The Security
detachment peeled off on the other side of the detector and vanished into a
door where the odor of fresh coffee lured them in. A faintly nervous looking
lady was waiting for the security checkpoint to let us pass.
Barbara
Townsend was her name; according to her nametag. She was wearing a set of
medical whites with a heavy gray jacket over the top of it. She had deep brown
eyes and short cropped brown hair that was faintly frizzy. If it were not for
the slightly wild-eyed looks she was giving everyone and the bags under her
eyes she would be pretty if not stunning.
“H-hi, I’m
Barbara, your guide, first let me welcome you on behalf of the testing team
here. Next I want to reassure you that no one here is going to try and hurt
you, though I will say we have a fairly solid safety track record.” She wilted
slightly with the sound of falling masonry. “Do try and remember we are your
friends.”
I gave John a
bemused look, then I stuck my hand out. “Hi Barbara, I’m Merry.”
She looked at
my gloved hand and timidly shook it, and then released it abruptly. “Right, if
you’ll walk this way I’ll take you to medical for the first part of testing.”
She led us down a long corridor to a room aptly named Medical Testing, though
every few seconds she would stop and peer over her shoulder at me.
Some
how I managed not to run into her on those ‘stops’, though I was seriously
tempted to imitate her stuttering walk. I sighed once she checked us in to the
front desk and virtually ran out of the room. In my best Bugs Bunny voice I
whispered to John, “Walk dis way.”
He
shook his head with a smile that was part grimace. “Shell Shock. Try not to
upset the poor lady, she needs a vacation in the worst of ways.”
I thought about that
for a bit, “I think she’s in need of more than a vacation. I’ll try an keep it
low key when she is around, no promises though.”
He
shrugged, “Could be worse, she could be like Monica.”
“Yeah,
no kidding.” Monica, I hoped would be stuck with a distasteful job someplace
where she couldn’t tick people off.
Medical
testing consisted of fill these vials with blood, this cup with urine and lots
and lots of x-rays. Which later turned into a lot of MRIs and CAT Scans. The
MRI is annoying as you have to hold absolutely still while on a motorized bed that
makes a lot of noise. This is compounded by the annoying fact that you can’t
have any metal on you, much less the fact that the room is kept chilled.
The
‘hands on’ part of the physical was disgusting. Bad enough you get groped every
which way. They had to use very thick gloves to do it, which means they had to
pinch harder to ‘feel’ anything. I let this go on until the pelvic exam, where
as John would describe it as, ‘Sparks flew’.
“Ok,
put your feet in the stirrups and lets take a look shall we?” said the doctor
pointing to the two offending metal bits.
“Why?”
I asked.
He
didn’t answer but picked up an odd instrument, and motioned for me to hurry it
up.
“You
are not putting that –anywhere-.” I looked at he doctor who had an impassive
expression on his face.
“Young
lady I…” He trailed off when I slid over to my pile of clothes and pulled out
my folding knife.
I
flicked the knife open, “Let me be very clear, I all ready had my ‘examination’
of those parts once already this month.” Ok I was unconscious during it, but
hey. “If you get to stick that in me,” I pointed to the gadget, “I get to stick
this in you.” I waved my knife in the direction of his groin.
“Uh.”
He reached over and pushed a button set into the wall, then took a few steps
back away from me, “Now stay calm miss.”
“Calm
he says.” I waggled the knife in his direction, “It’s not you that is getting
mauled.”
He
looked a bit indignant at the mauled part. “Young lady I am a doct…”
About this time the security team waded in and pulled
him out of the room. A few minutes later John walked in looking amused,
fortunately I was mostly dressed. “Give it over.”
“What
over?” Ok innocent wasn’t going to cover it, so I went with amnesia.
He
chuckled and held out his hand. “You know what.”
Drat.
I slid the knife out of my sports bra, “This old thing?”
He
just shook his head and took the closed knife out of my outstretched hand. “I
figured you had something on you at the check point.” He laughed, “What is it
with you, where if you have a weapon of some type handy, you have to use it, if
only for emphasis?”
I shrugged.
“Well he didn’t seem to think I had a say in what he could do with my body.” I
gave him a dirty look, “How would you feel if someone was going to give you an
involuntary prostate exam?”
He frowned.
“Bad
enough I was getting mauled thanks to those gloves he was wearing.” I sighed;
“It gives a whole new meaning to the term Titty Twister.”
“Ouch.”
“No kidding, I
kept my cool and I didn’t try to fry his ass.” I looked at the knife in his
hand. “I just wanted to be sure he got my point.”
He shook his
head, “I think the security team is explaining that to him right now.” He
looked around, “They do need the exam for their records.”
“Fine have
what’s her name from the apartment send a copy of her exam notes to them. I am so
not letting some overly gloved pervert grope me down there. That so-called
breast exam was bad enough.” I stood there and fumed while the lights
flickered.
“Ok, just take
a few deep breaths and calm down.”
Grrr. “I –am-
calm.” At that point the lights died. Ok fine, so I lied.
“You’re
glowing again,” was his only comment, John is for one thing, not dumb or slow
on the uptake.
I made my way
to the sink and grabbed the faucet, pushing the power into it did not seem to
have any effect on my glowing; other than to make me woozy. “Well damn.” I
pushed my shades up and looked in the mirror at the brighter bluish white orbs
that glowed back at me. I dropped the shades back down, “It didn’t fade much
did it?”
“No, what did
you do?”
“I tried to get
rid of some juice.” I sighed. “Can we get some lunch here?”
“Probably, its
past One Thirty anyways.” He motioned me to the door as the lights kicked back
on.
Barbara looked
a bit calmer if not amused, “So I take it the exams went well?” Her voice
bespoke her amusement. She gave me an appraising look, “A knife eh… I will have
to try that at my next exam.”
I started to
comment when John gave me a soft elbow to the ribs. “She’s a bad influence,” he
indicated me.
She laughed,
“Doc Clammy Hands had that coming for a bit I think.” There was a hint of
laughter from the receptionists.
“Can we get
something to eat?” I asked
“Sure come on,
the cafeteria will be mostly dead now anyhow.” She motioned for us to follow,
though she was doing her stuttering look and walk routine, still.
The cafeteria
was devoid of the usual stares of late, though I did get a few double takes. I
guess I am going to have to get used to it, it wasn’t that much different from
being the ‘social outcast’ in school. You have to give the cooks at Langley a
tip of the hat; they sure can cook. John and Barbara spent most of my feeding
frenzy talking shop and comparing places they ‘worked’ at. So, for the most
part the meal was a semi-restful one.
Once the meal
was over it was back to medical, and no I did not have to face up to another
attempt at a pelvic exam. Which made me much calmer, mostly. They subjected
me to the Moh test, to see if my skin was harder than normal. Basically it
involved scratching me with pointed objects, mostly annoying than anything
else. The also administered a battery of allergy tests, which felt like a
repetition of the Moh test, though the results were a bit off.
Normally, you
have a reaction to the Histamine ‘control’ scratch. Not me, though I did have a
few points where they thought I may be allergic to things like milk and molds.
They couldn’t be one hundred percent sure, so it looks like my diet is going to
be altered somewhat. Those points did itch so I was happy when they put some
lotion on them to make them go away faster.
The eye exam
was slightly amusing; I have perfect vision, though the eye doctor was at a
loss for words to explain how I could see ‘normally.’ The only down side of
that examination was the color deferential test. They had me look at a bunch of
circles with different colored dots that hid words or numbers. That test was ok,
though I seemed to have trouble making out the ones with blue dots being
hidden. It got worse when they handed me a color sheet; it was almost like
picking out paints for a room, though I had the dubious joy of trying to name
the colors.
The long and
short of that test was disturbing to me, I could ‘see’ blue if I looked at
power outlets and the phones and such. But ‘Blue’ as the color as itself, was
really pale or just not there at all. A whole section of the color
spectrum sheet was white or off white. Red was more than a bit darker if not
purplish and green was more yellowish. For all intents and purposes medically
wise, I was color-blind. From what the doctor was able to figure out, the
visual ‘blue’ color wavelength of the visual spectrum was co-opted to give me
an electro-optical connection in my brain. Whatever that meant.
They stuck me in a what they said was a pitch black
room and had me read from a card that had some medical jargon on it. To me the
room was filled with the blue and white light of my own glow. I managed to read
enough of the card to where they stopped the test and made notes. Personally I
could not see what the big deal was.
The
next bit of the test they cranked the light up as slowly as they could and gave
me a switch where I could turn it off if it was uncomfortable. That test was
long and time consuming. Eventually they got to a light level where the light
was washing everything out and giving me a slight headache. Boring, in its own
right, though the people giving the test were excited by it.
The
hearing test came and went without much in the way of oddities. Junior High Band
was apparently of some use as they ran the range of piano notes and had me use
musical notation to tell them what note was which. My band teachers used to
play this game so it was nothing new or a big deal to me.
My
old band teachers had been a bit annoyed with my family; they considered my
half season of band each year as a personal affront to the gift of music. Choir
on the other hand, well I was allowed to sing, not much else. I used to get a
lot of ribbing from being First Chair, among the Flutes. No, I wasn’t a musical
wunderkind; I just had lots and lots of time to practice. Practice enough and
anyone could be first chair in a school band of slackers. Not having a real
life I had to do ‘something’ to kill time.
Band
on the whole allowed me some freedom and some acceptance, well mostly. We had
some elitist musical snobs and jerks; that and a few that thought they were
gods gift to rock and roll. Not to mention all the ugly jokes of playing the skin
flute and so on. I was able to play the piano, not well mind you but I
could hit the notes at the right time and tempo. Which was more than I could
say for the tech that was jangling the keys.
After
the tenth wrong note in a row I pegged the pencil up to the acoustic tiles
where it stuck point first. I had recognized his butchering of Bach’s Piano
& Flute Concerto Number One. It didn’t take much effort in that department.
If you get stuck practicing a piece of music you don’t enjoy, over and over for
a few months, it sticks with you.
Finally
I just looked at the people monitoring the test and told them the name of the
piece and that the tech sucked at it. The tech just laughed at me and played
the piece perfectly at double speed. Cute, it was another test. I
apologized to the tech, he shrugged and went on into a jazz riff before
stopping. He gave me smile and commented that most of the folks who took this
part of the test were musical morons. I winced; band had more than a few of
those as well.
On the way to
the next battery of tests John explained that that portion of the test was more
to see if a person could recognize complex patterns. Not to mention to judge
how well a person could decipher those sounds. “Pattern Recognition,” you could
hear the capitals, “is key in problem solving, though you may have invalidated
their test.”
Barbara
laughed, “Not really, she did get the name of the piece right. Besides you made
Robert’s day, he hates to give that test with a passion. He prefers Jazz
to the Classicals.” She winked, “You got him out of several hours of what he
calls musical torture.” She continued her stuttered walk and look backwards
bit. “That test can go for a long bit, or as short as ten notes. You’re good,
most people can’t even figure out what note is what.”
“Thank my band
teachers.” I shrugged; with luck I would never see that particular sheet of
music again.
The first part
of physical testing was boring, lift this, carry that, and up the rope. Ok, so
I glossed over it some; I could do so much better than I ever did as
Chad. Its pretty messed up, in order to excel at sports I had to become partly
a girl, ok mostly a girl. Never mind that the idea of chasing a ball, of any
sort, still makes me want to barf.
The next stage
was what they called it: Advanced Reflex Testing, I called it Dodge Ball From
Hell. The rules are easy enough; you can catch the balls, or dodge them, just
don’t get hit, the last rule is don’t trip as the balls stay ‘in play’ until
they stop moving. The court was not much larger than a racket ball court,
plenty of room to trip over your own feet and have lots of ricochets. Needless
to say I was not thrilled as I sucked at sports all around.
The Variable
Speed Thrower System, was a large machine with a huge set of pipes that fed the
various hoppers with balls. Of all types sizes and weights, including bowling
balls. It had the vague semblance of one of those baseball machines that they
use in batting cages and a tennis ball lobber. I had some serious misgivings
when they gave me a boxing head guard, a disposable mouthpiece and said;
“Better you than me.”
The room had a
slight incline so the techs didn’t have to stop the ‘game’ and round up the
balls for reuse. Part of me was wishing that they had omitted that design fix.
A few minutes into the test I was starting to think I was in trouble, as some
of those ‘throws’ stung my hands when I caught them. A moment later when they
announced stage two I had a nasty suspicion that the person who had designed
this ‘test’ was the victim of a great many bullies and was making up for it in
his mechanical nightmare.
I gave up
trying to catch the balls when a medicine ball I caught nearly knocked me to
the floor. Ok so part of the test was fun, in a sick sort of way. I finally had
some thing to fight back against, I decided to change the rules of the game
slightly and I started to throw balls back at the machine. Big mistake,
apparently the sadist figured out that ‘twist’. After I had hit it once or
twice the machine went into sudden death match mode.
“Gah!”
Ok so it was
not my most eloquent statement; when you are faced with your worst nightmare
from gym class I dare you to find something witty to say. The few seconds that
I recall from that part of the game were slightly vague. I remember using a
basketball to deflect some of the balls away, but the three medicine balls in a
row were a bit much. I went down hard.
Then
there was the sound of rolling thunder; the bowling ball was in play. Part of
me was proud of the fact that I managed to get the basketball between me and
the bowling ball. That, and the fact that that my ever so screwy power went
nuts and sent the thrower to electrical hell. Then there was the rebound and
darkness.
Ammonia stinks,
if you were not aware of that fact. I was looking up at John who was waving
something under my nose. “Ok Merry, time to wake up.”
I took the
mouth guard out, my face stung more than a bit. “Oh gods that sucked.” I
looked at the techs who were frantically trying to stop the machine from
burning. My only thought on that matter was ‘Burn, Baby Burn’.
“I take it I
didn’t pass.” I gave John a frown.
“Lets get you
out of the chaos.” He gave me a hand up and I only slightly wavered on my feet.
We passed some
poor soul who was muttering something about “My poor baby”. If I were more
alert at that moment I probably would have decked him. I suppose God was
watching out for ‘that’ mad scientist. As it was John interposed himself
between the two of us and led me to a couch. I shed the boxing helmet and
tossed it to the far side of the room. I announced, “I don’t care what the hell
the results are, I am not doing that again.”
He laughed once
and plopped into a chair, “Don’t worry sis, I don’t think they want you to.”
I shook my head
as I could feel a headache starting to work its way into the forefront of my
head. “How much more is there for today?”
“One
more physical test, then you can rest until tomorrow,” he was looking at me
intently. “Then we get to do the ‘fun’ stuff.”
“Fun
stuff, so far I am not having much fun.” I looked at him, “Not to mention I am
getting the headache from hell.”
“No
doubt, even deflecting that bowling ball you took a hard jolt to the head.” He
was frowning, “Well the next test should not be too bad.”
“I
hope you are right. So far I am beginning to think I would have been better off
just muddling around in the dark.”
“Its
their playground, their rules.” He sighed, “Just do the best you can, from what
I gather a lot of these tests are very subjective.”
“Wonderful.”
I rubbed my head where the ball smacked into it. “Any chance on getting
something for my headache before the next test?”
“We’ll
see.” He stood up when Barbara entered and motioned for me to stay sitting.
They chatted a few moments and she gave me a slight wave before almost running
out of the room.
When
he came back I had to ask, “What did you say to her?”
“Just
that you had a headache and your powers get more even erratic when you can’t
focus.” He pointed to the remains of the ball thrower in the next room.
I sat back and
closed my eyes, ah well he was right. Barbara returned with a horse pill
and glass of water, of which I was ever so happy to take. John and Barbara left
me to my misery for about fifteen minutes while the pill kicked in. I wasn’t
complaining, I just wanted the pain to stop.
Part of me was
really happy when the pain was comfortably pushed under that warm blanket fuzzy
feeling. The other part of me was screaming ‘Danger! Run around scream and
shout!’ I was humming a bit of the song ‘Current’ from the Blue Man Group when
John and Barbara collected me for what she only described as the Xavier Test.
I was in my own
private world while John tried to explain that the Xavier test wasn’t ‘exactly’
named after a paraplegic head case. I gave him an amused grin, “What he doesn’t
run a school for oddballs and weirdoes like me? Not to mention a girl who has
been dead more times than is recommended for any one person?”
John stopped
and looked at Barbara, “What was that pill?”
“Hydrocodine
with an Tylenol base, why?” she looked puzzled.
“Lovely, well
we can cancel the Xavier test.” He looked at me, “So Merry, do you know what
the Xavier test is?”
“Pop psychology
quiz with an emphasis on surprise and variable conditions?” I answered in a
soft voice, “It doesn’t seem that hard.”
“And you know
this how?” he was shaking his head as if he knew the answer all ready.
“We passed a
computer.” I grinned, “Did you know you can play the Xavier Test on a flute?
A-B-D-E-F-C.”
He looked at me
and sighed, “Right.” He looked at Barbara with an odd smile, “Care to bet she
memorized the answers to the whole test, completely invalidating the whole
process?”
Barbara looked
at me, she was frowning, such a pretty lady too bad they were considering
replacing her. I walked back to the spot where the computer was bleeding
through the wall of the hallway. Ok, she’s underpaid too; have to fix ‘that’.
There, we’ll just edit her file, and give her a bonus on performance.
“MERRY!” John
sounded stressed.
“I’m right here
John, don’t have ta shout.” I giggled. “Tomorrow we are having steak for dinner
and lasagna at lunchtime. Menu’s by Merry no extra charge.”
“What are you
doing?” he asked in a try and pay attention to me sort of voice.
“F-i-x-x-I-n-g
stuff.”
“Like?”
“Well Barbara
needed more vacation time, and a raise, not to mention they were gonna have
lousy stuff for lunch tomorrow.”
“You can’t go
around and just change files to what you want, you know?”
“Sure I can, I
can even book her an all-expense-paid-trip to Mouse World if ‘I’ want to.” I
wave a gloved hand at him, “Just cuz she’s nice. Not many people like me. Mean
people shoving bad notes under my door an rude people in the ca-fi-etria.
Gotta treat nice people good.”
He laughed, “Ok
you win.” He looked at Barbara, too bad she’s not his type, ah well I
can’t fix ‘that’.
“I never lose
with ‘puter stuff. I can’t play dodge ball fer crap still, but I can
make a ‘uter roll over and play yank-ee-doodle-doo.”
“Is she always
like this when she is on medication?” Barbara asked.
“Not all
medicines. Just enough of them, though it does have some benefits occasionally.
Trust me you don’t want her upset at you, not like the Senator she slapped.” He
was watching me.
“Oh, thanks
John; I had forgotten Mr. Blasphemy. Let’s see, what should I do?”
“Me and my big
mouth.” John slapped himself, “Merry don’t do anything rash…” His eyes were
twinkling though.
“Me, do
anything rash? Nope, never, no how, no w-a-a-y-s, you know he has eighty
unpaid traffic violations and all his credit cards and credit reports are
crap? Not to mention all his pay has been adjusted incorrectly for; let’s see,
the past six years. Yep he owes Unca Sammy bunches.” I looked at John, “What’s
so funny?”
------------------------------------------------------
Monday, October
23rd, 2006.
Time for yesterday.
“High Voltage, The Unforgettable sound Bringing you up and
taking you down, Coming at you from every side” –High Voltage -Linkin Park
It was morning,
at least according to the digital alarm clock that was going beep-beep. I
reached over and slapped it off, taking a moment to snuggle back into the
blankets. Yesterday had gone mostly, well aside from getting knocked out
briefly. After that; things went blurry, I guess the rest of the day went ok,
as I wasn’t in a padded room.
I forced myself
up and out of bed; I was still dressed in the shorts and t-shirt from the prior
day. Oh well, a quick shower would cure me of the stickies. I waded through the
paper flood near my door and shoved a chair under the doorknob. Part of me
debated picking the papers up, the other part of said let housekeeping sort it
out. After a moment of indecision I just left the papers there. I didn’t make
the mess; I wasn’t about to clean it up.
On the table
were several plates, dirty but clean of food. There was also some sort of
brightly colored package, though I could not bear to look at it closely for
some reason. I wasn’t hungry though everything seemed out of place, and fuzzy
yet. Something was definitely off; yet I could not put my finger on what
‘it’ was. I flipped the television on via the remote and found a music channel
I could tolerate. I didn’t quite have to peal my clothes off, though I could
have sworn I had worn them for more than a day.
My time in the
shower felt good, though ‘everything’ was much more sensitive. Not to mention I
found a sore spot on my thigh that with a small red dot. I mused over that, I
didn’t recall getting a shot yesterday at testing. Testing sucked, I wasn’t
really looking forwards to the powers part of testing at all. I reluctantly
cut the shower off, no sense in wearing myself out in trying to keep my bubble
up.
I dried off and
did a few stretches, my stomach muscles and legs felt like I had really
over-done things. All that climbing and the dodge ball game from hell must
have worked me harder than I remembered. Heck even my eyes felt odd, I made my
way to the mirror and looked at them. Yep, still all blue and they flickered
somewhat.
I reached up to
my neck and felt for my Saint Joan of Arc medallion, it was missing, very odd.
I didn’t remember the chain breaking or taking it off. Though there was a
slight scratch on the back of my neck. For a moment I could feel like I was
putting it in something soft and warm, a hand? I was slightly dizzy for a
moment and braced myself against the wall by the mirror.
I was about to
walk away from the mirror when I noticed something had changed. Well a pair of
things. Breasts, two each to a customer, definitely larger. I tried to remember
what size they were before, and then I snagged a bra from the drawer and tried
it on for comparison. Ok that bra was not going to fit much less be
supportive. The sports bra was not much better, while really tight; it at least
held things in place. I pulled on a gray pair of panties and managed to barely
get them up as well. Things fit yesterday: what the blazes was going on?
A look in the
mirror provided the answer. Curves, I had curves. Wonderful. Just peachy. I
could handle being Chad with breasts, but now my body was defiantly not
“Chad’s” any more. Aside from that extra bulge in my panties I was
definitely a girl. I don’t know what was more depressing, the fact that I
wasn’t a complete girl or a complete guy; or the fact that I didn’t look
anything like ‘I’ used to look like.
It took a while
to find something that fit my new frame, after a half hour of frustration of
trying this and that on. I eventually went with a dark gray jumpsuit. It was
almost skin-tight and while it did cover everything, there was no denying I was
a girl in it, though I did have to roll the legs up a few inches. Fortunately,
the boots fit with a few extra pair of sox. Though I ended up having to pare
down my wallets so I could fit one into a pocket. I did find a comb; which
made me feel somewhat better in the hair department.
I found my
shades and my name badge on the computer desk. Which was odd, I hadn’t gave the
computer in the room any though before. Admittedly; I had given it the once
over, but I had decided to leave it alone for the time being. Besides it
probably had some sort of net nanny software on it that I’d have to find and
turn off if I wanted to do any thing fun. Not to mention whatever
spy-ware was on it. Frankly I wouldn’t put it past the spookies to not
monitor my room.
Looking about
on the floor I found my rosary. It was crumpled up against the wall. I vaguely
remember a wash of rage and throwing it, but I could not remember being all
that angry yesterday. I picked it up to discover it was slightly tacky feeling,
so I took it to the sink and ran some water over it. The water turned a slight
pink as the stickiness washed off. “I hope that the rose beads are not
melting.” I commented as I dried them in a towel, faint reddish stains remaining
on the towel. I draped the rosary over my neck; it seemed so very odd that my
medallion was missing.
I grabbed a
piece of junk paper from the floor and flipped it over to the blank backside. I
penned a quick note to the housekeeping folks apologizing for the wardrobe
being all over the floor and the other trash. I told them to just put the
clothes on a chair until they could be disposed of. I left it in an obvious
place and moved the chair back to the table.
Opening the door
I was greeted by a slightly bland and bored looking gentleman in a suit. His
eyes widened slightly, though he didn’t seem to be alarmed. He was wearing a
brownish gray suit and maroon tie; it was a nice break from the usual
pseudo-presidential clone clothing that most of the security folks seemed to
favor. His hair was short and a tidy black, though one strand seemed to drop
towards his brown eyes. His security badge was partially hidden by the tie “…ty
Director” was all that I could make out.
“Don’t forget
your gloves miss.” He pointed at my bare hands.
“Ah, yes,
thanks.” I wandered back into the room and went about finding them. It took a
bit to find them too. One was on top of the television; the other one was under
the bed. Very strange, usually I put them near my shades. Inwardly I shrugged,
I had been throwing my clothes madly around before while trying to find
something that fit; so I must have not been paying that close of attention when
I launched them.
I stepped back
out into the hallway and let the door shut, I took a few steps in the direction
of the cafeteria, I didn’t notice the security guard following me until he
spoke.
“Where to today
miss?” He asked.
“Breakfast,
testing and shopping, nothing fits right for some reason.”
“The CAT Team
has their own cafeteria now, and the introduction and overview seminar is in an
hour.” He pointed to the elevator, and led the way to it. “Ah, I think they are
done with testing you, though the results should be ready later this
afternoon.”
“Funny I
thought I was doing powers testing today?”
He shrugged and
pushed the down button, “I can’t say miss.”
“You can call
me Merry.” I offered.
He smiled, “It
never hurts to be polite, I am Paul, your official liaison while you are here
at Langley.” He chuckled softly, “You sure shook things up a bit yesterday
evening.”
“Oh, in what
way?”
“I’m not
allowed to discuss that, Merry.” His eyes were crinkled up in amusement.
“The first rule
of Project Mayhem is that you don’t discuss Project Mayhem?”
The elevator
doors open and we stepped inside. He laughed, “Something like that, yes.” He
pushed a button a few times then another button. “We’re going to be using one
of the basement levels, the task force will be using an entire sub level for
the duration, however long that is.”
“Nothing like
job security.” I commented.
At that he
laughed for a few moments. “What’s so funny?” I asked.
“I can’t say.”
Though I could tell he wanted to say something by the overly amused looks he
was giving me.
“First rule
again?”
“Quite.”
Wonderful,
could my day get any weirder?
---------------
The CAT
cafeteria was a scaled down version of the one from upstairs, though I had to
say the food smelled better. I glanced around the room, it was full, though
the atmosphere seemed subdued for some reason. I made my way through the buffet
line and overloaded a plate with a combination of eggs, biscuits and gravy.
I found a
mostly empty table and had a seat, I said a quick prayer and crossed myself.
Today just I ignored the people at the table and set to eating. Something was
nagging me and I could not put my finger on it, though it felt like something
was missing. Paul sat down with his own tray, a modest meal in comparison to my
own. “So where are Bill and John?”
Paul looked
slightly uncomfortable, “Bill should be at the briefing.”
I nodded, “And
John?”
“I can’t say
miss.” He was looking intently at his plate when he said it.
“Ah.” For a
time we ate in relative quiet before he spoke again.
“So are you really
that good with computers?” he inquired.
“Far as I
know,” I paused. “There may be one person better, I don’t know for sure
though.”
“Amelia
Hartford?”
“That would be
the name, though I have not met her.”
“That will
change.”
“Oh?”
“Rule
number one, miss.” He had a lopsided smile on his face.
“You
are enjoying this entirely too much.”
He
shrugged and worked on his meal, I managed to get through another plateful of
my own before I felt full. I didn’t think I was overloading my plates that much.
“What’s
wrong?”
“I’m
full, usually it takes about four plates.” I eyed the empty plate with some
confusion.
“I
think you had a few meals in the middle of the night.”
“Ah,
that would explain the dirty dishes.” I felt somewhat better though how I could
miss-remember eating is beyond me.
“Yes,”
he commented, I just looked at him, hinting I thought, for more information,
though he was eating and seemed to ignore me.
I
toyed with a cinnamon roll, peeling a strip off then eating it. Occasionally I
would study the people in the room. It was a mixed bag, ranging from slightly
overweight to almost anorexic, male and female all stamped into the
semi-federal mold. Though the colors seemed more muted today, even my orange
juice looked a bit off color. Fortunately it tasted ok.
It
almost seemed on cue when the room started to empty, everyone was slightly
grim, very odd. I shook my head and I chalked it up to more Federal weirdness.
I picked up my tray and was about to take it to the conveyer belt to the dishwashers
when Paul stopped me.
“Don’t
worry about it, folks will take care of that for you.”
I
shrugged, “It’s no big deal.”