by P. S. Power
This time the woman with the kids just seemed to be scared of them however, and called for her children to come out of the water, as if they might be eaten if they didn't do it right then.
Tobin just walked away, not even trying to say anything. After all, it wasn't worth it. Chatting with the woman might have helped, but he didn't have the energy for that kind of thing anymore. All he could do was get back to his tent and lie there, after rolling his bag back out. The others had come back too, but no one came to talk to him or anything.
After a while, several hours, Marcia came in, her face a bit worried.
"Less than perfect."
"I... should we just cancel this thing? The tour? We can't reach these people. I..." He wanted to go home, but it wasn't going to happen, the Director had made it so even that was a bit scary to consider. The man might have him arrested if he tried.
"Over one frightened woman at a camp ground? We lodged a complaint with them. I know it won't do much, but at least they'll know that it was offensive." She said it bleakly and sat on the slightly crinkly waterproof floor of the thing. "We could..."
That was the thing there, wasn't it? They could do things. It was illegal to discriminate, or cause discrimination against Infected people. But if they used that to try and make a point, the woman would be on the news claiming they were trying to harass her. If they sued the campground, no jury would punish them, since they were just Infected and not to be believed. It basically meant that, unless he wanted to attack the woman physically, and then hide the body well, there wasn't a single thing he could really do that would make a difference.
It was frustrating. So much so that he finally spoke, knowing that his words were wrong and bad, but not really caring any more.
"Maybe a war is the only way? Get rid of the bigots and their supporters? I can't help being what I am, but they can. If they refuse to change, maybe they don't deserve to live?" It was radical, for him, and got the woman to blink, as if shocked that he'd just said that.
"It isn't the way. You can't kill people into better behavior, the survivors would just turn against you and there will be those that survive. There are too many regular people for it to work." She nearly whispered the words and moved in to him, her face about two feet from his when she did it. "That kind of talk is dangerous..."
That got a shrug. Of course it was.
"Me having any kind of opinion is, isn't it? If I suggest some kind of protest, or even just going shopping, it's too dangerous. It's stirring up trouble. If I want to go and swim, it's me stirring up trouble, by being there. I suggest a way to make it all work and you think that's dangerous too. So what's your solution? For all Infected to kill themselves? That won't work forever either, you know. New Infected will pop." It wasn't actually a disease after all, or a genetic disorder.
"I didn't say I had the solution. I remember saying that I didn't, to be truthful. I just think that starting a war isn't for the best. That isn't exactly me being the enemy." She looked at him and didn't break eye contact first, meaning he had to, not able to keep it up for more than a few seconds.
"So, I'm just left with no hope, no way out and with the knowledge that if I ever do anything, I just die? That it might get a lot of other people killed to? Is that what you're saying? I can't see another option in all of this." He didn't glare at her, not being able too. He felt his skin shift color though, probably to an almost solid black. Tobin was upset and angry, but knew that he didn't have a lot of options.
Marcia didn't try to suggest he did, either.
"Well, stew for dinner, and some biscuits. It doesn't sound great to me, but we'll have food. I..." She stopped and didn't say anything for a long time, then got up and left the tent. It was weird, but Tobin was almost certain that she had a tear running down her face when she did it. That didn't seem like the kind of thing that she'd do however and might have been his imagination. After all, he didn't know that she was capable of that kind of thing at all.
Waiting for something to happen, he just stayed in the tent, wishing he had a book, or even something to write on, so that he could work out a new song. It was something to do and even if he gave up trying to sing professionally, it was an old habit of his.
When he was called to eat, he moved carefully, using the tents to block him from view, so that people wouldn't be offended by having to see him, and ask the campground to make them all leave. If that happened... Well, that would be annoying.
The food was warm and not horrible, though seemed to come from a freeze-dried pack, rather than being made from scratch. When he finished his portion, Tobin moved closer to the fire, not really wanting to be alone again. That part of things would probably baffle people. It wasn't that he didn't like others, or wanted them gone, just that he was so shy it was hard for him to interact with them. It took work, which was exhausting, but he really liked people, in general. It was almost like having friends, getting to listen to everyone.
Not that they had a lot to talk about.
That became apparent early on, after they all worked together to clean their dishes and then started to toast marshmallows over the open coals. No one spoke, for a long time, a pall having been pulled over the whole thing. After it was dark, even given that he wasn't tired at all, Tobin went to bed, not bothering to talk to anyone at all.
It became his thing, for the rest of the tour really. He did his bit on stage, and tried to really put together a good show for everyone, pulling out the stops and ignoring the bigots that came to yell at him and try to ruin things for everyone else. When he was actually on stage, with Denis propping him up, he felt a lot better, but that was about it. The rest of the time it was all just so... hopeless. The word rang out in his head, over and again, without letting up. He was angry, inside, and felt a lot like lashing out at everyone, but couldn't, not having that kind of luxury. Not having the freedom to do that in any way at all.
They spent a lot of time camping, since it was hard to find hotel rooms that would let Lauren in at all, and nearly as hard just to get the Agents in. More than once they all ended up sleeping in the bus, since even the campgrounds wouldn't take them. The state parks had to, but the private ones didn't. By the time they finished the last show, everyone was ready for it to be over and had been, for a long time.
That meant going back to the base, except that, Tobin knew, he had to turn right around and go off with some of the others to California, so they could do a Christmas special. It was a big deal, apparently, and he was slated to actually have a part in it, playing a little crippled boy. It fit, well enough.
For the last three weeks he basically hadn't spoken to anyone at all. After a bit they'd mainly left him alone, but Marcia kept trying to get him to talk to her. There was just no point, not really. There wasn't much of one to anything.
Since they were coming in by bus, a vehicle that lacked the drama and pageantry of a jet, no one met them at the door. They all got off, having driven most of the night to get there. On the good side, Tobin had mastered the ability to sleep while moving, so he felt a bit rough and unclean, but ready for his day. No one spoke really, just heading to their own spaces, which for him meant a trip to the fifth floor to his tiny corner room. Number twenty-seven.
The door was unlocked, but there was nothing inside to take, and it was clear that no one had been in it since he'd been gone. It felt like a long time, but the truth was it had only been about three weeks. The space had a bed, a small desk and bare concrete walls that had been painted, but a long time ago. There was no art on the walls, and the bed was a bare mattress, about four inches thick, with bedding folded on the foot of it. Unmade, but he could see to that. The frame was metal and stronger than needed for him, with thick welded metal pipes and bars for the whole thing to rest on. The idea wasn't a horrible one, since it was meant to hold up against the heavier people on the team, and he was so light they didn't push into his back too much while he slept.
He did that, arranging his things, and gett
ing his clothing into the laundry basket. He'd have to go and do that soon, but he had a pair of tiny sweats left in his closet, so he took that to the shower room, after pulling a clean brown towel and his soap, so that he could be tidy again.
That meant, since they'd gotten into the facility early, that he was in the gym at about seven. It was just him, at first, so he used the heavy machines while no one watched him, lifting far more than most people would have thought he could. About fifteen thousand pounds. When he stopped doing that, lifting them over his head, using a machine for safety, he noticed that Brian was running already.
Without stopping, the man waved, his face looking mildly pained, since he was sprinting at the time. That part of things amazed Tobin more than a little. Proxy wasn't strong, or fast, but he worked so hard that he was nearly superhuman that way anyway. It was because he never quit, or at least that was the theory. Of course, he'd been doing a lot better, after he met a healer in town. They weren't supposed to admit that they knew she existed, since everyone was afraid that the government would try to steal her for themselves, if they let the secret out. Most people with that kind of Infected ability were, after all. The rich and powerful secreted them away, and people that really needed the help were left with Band-Aids and salves.
Tobin appreciated the fact that Brian left him alone for the most part, when they were working out. The guy was nice to him and had stuck up for him when that thing with Agent Burkes had happened, but it was hard to carry on a conversation. Most of what Denis had been doing had faded, so it was harder for him to challenge his first mode anymore, when the man wasn't helping him on stage. That was because Denis was afraid that the whole thing had been his fault. It was too hard to explain, so that idea had just been left hanging there. It wasn't fair of him, but he couldn't talk about it in a way that would help him either.
At ten, when everyone else started to come in, Tobin moved to the fifteenth floor, because it was his normally scheduled time and the light part of the day there. The place had people in it, mainly working under the direction of Carl, the head trainer. He was an intense and fit man that pushed himself, and everyone else, as hard as he could. It was his first mode that caused that, but his ability was to see what it was that you needed, personally. Along with what you could really take. That meant you couldn't slack on his floor.
"Tobin! Good to see you back. We have a new course around the edge. Do it. Now." The man had a wild looking grin on his face, since he loved his job. At least with the people that had higher level abilities.
There was no hesitation, and he slammed around the new track. Tobin went over most of it, jumping from obstacle to obstacle, using his light weight and ability to touch down gently on the fake things, the ones that looked sturdy, but moved. It was hard, but faster than climbing them or running between the things. It was a half mile track, and when he got back around, the man smiled, instead of yelling at him. He didn't do that. Tobin didn't respond well to it so it wasn't part of his training. Carl was too good for that.
"Not too shabby. I thought that you'd get soft in your layoff, but it doesn't seem to be the case. That was fifty-five seconds, which is only about two seconds off of what you could physically manage on the perfect run. Good use of strength and your endurance seems adequate." A callused hand ran over his hair and then he slapped Tobin on his slightly sweaty back.
He was breathing hard, but not gasping in pain over the work. "Lauren and I ran each day. Peggy too." They hadn't given him a choice, even if he wasn't speaking to anyone, they required him to keep moving and join in whatever fitness stuff Marcia came up with. They'd pushed him pretty hard too, and made him practice fighting, even as Agent Burkes kept staring at him like he was going to draw down on him again.
Reyes hadn't. In fact the Agent had been going out of his way to be nice and make sure that Tobin got what he needed each day. Not real freedom, or equality, but he got food and enough water.
Carl seemed pleased by the news, and pointed to the far side of the room after staring at him for a bit.
"Get with Hobbs each day. He's going to teach you how to meditate. It's extreme, doing it his way, but it helps a lot of people. Come with me and I'll set it up."
They jogged, since Carl didn't like to waste time, and gestured to the man as they approached, getting a smile that seemed genuinely happy. The red-haired and bearded man didn't speak, clearly focusing himself, standing on a pole that was wiggling a bit underneath him. That was about two inches thick, and next to him was Bridget Chambers, doing the same thing. She didn't smile however, or call out to him, her tiny leg sticking out behind her. She was wearing sweats too, not her Team One uniform, and it was clear that her pole was moving under her a lot faster than the one that her trainer had.
Carl pointed at Tobin.
"He's incredibly depressed, and his first mode is social anxiety. I'd like him to work with you each day. Can you fit him into the schedule?" The words were nearly deferential for the man, since he was allowed to do whatever he wanted on his floor, and no one could stay there if he didn't think they belonged. Tobin had seen him kick the President off the floor once. Because he was a distraction. Here he was though, being very polite to the slightly wild looking Team Two member, who was pretty new still.
Instead of speaking to Carl at all, he gestured at the man with one hand, not losing his balance at all, which meant something, since the man ran and got another pole and set it in a hole in the floor. Once that was ready, the trainer just walked away.
Hobbs kept looking happy.
"Join us, please. Find the center of your being and hold your focus there, as well as you may. When distracted, return to it." There was no more instruction, but it wasn't that hard, at first. He did notice that his mind tried to stray, but his pole wasn't trying to move under him, which made it easier he guessed. Then he knew it, as it started to shift, after Hobbs hopped down and went to the controls. He sped them up, making Tobin struggle a bit to keep his balance, throwing his arms out wildly, making it harder to really do the exercise. That was the point, but poor Bridget was doing the same kind of wild gesturing, even as the pole practically vibrated under her right foot.
After half an hour of this, they shifted to the other foot and repeated things. It wasn't that interesting, but it was made harder faster this time, and his mind felt funny. Clear, but smaller, like his world was all inside of his center. It took him by surprise when Hobbs got down and stopped the poles. Both he and Bridget fell off. The girl laughed and then jumped on him without hesitation.
"Tobin! Didja miss me?" She was cute, in a small and young looking way. It was kind of odd, since she was nearly in the age range that he could date, even if she was underage still. Nearly sixteen. It meant that he didn't let himself feel too much like a pervert when she held him a bit too closely.
"Ya." It wasn't exactly a large statement, but she seemed happy enough with it. Then, they'd known each other for years, and used to be the two youngest people on Team Two. Now it was just him. Alone.
Hobbs surprised him, his face still looking happy.
"I too, noticed your absence. Each day, please come at this time and we'll work on such things. You and Bridget will be partnered. Miss Chambers, would you see to that?" There seemed to be some meaning to it, but she clapped a few times, but did it slowly, as if happy, and thinking, not just a rapid fire and uncontrollable thing, like he was used to seeing from her.
"Right. We need to get cleaned up and then go talk to mom anyway. I know that she has a meeting for you today. Technically Quartz is my partner, but she's too busy to do it right. We'll have lunch with my dad and Mark from Team Three, so we should dress nicely. Come on." There was a tug on his left arm, and even if the girl wasn't that much larger than he was, she managed to propel him along pretty fast, meaning he had to jog to keep up with her.
They took the stairs, going fast, nearly running them, up ten levels to his room. That the girl knew where it was just meant that she'd paid attention
, since it hadn't changed in years. She didn't ask to come in, but just grabbed everything he owned, shoving it into his bag and taking him by the hand again, leading him to the first floor, via the elevator.
At her room she did push him in.
"We can change and shower in here. It will be faster and give you less of a chance to escape." She started to pull off her t-shirt, but stopped and smiled at him. "Sorry. I'm supposed to do that in the other room."
"It's okay." It wasn't like he really minded it after all. She seemed to miss that part, and left the room, getting a quick shower first, then letting him use it. The whole space was huge, compared to his room, about ten times bigger and decorated more nicely than anyplace he'd been in before, other than other rooms on the first floor. It was the Team One place, and they were all kind of pampered. The royalty of the IPB.
She talked the whole time he was in the large shower, with its hot water and tiled floor, rather than the concrete that he was used to.
"We need to dress up for lunch. I have to have some makeup on, not being pretty enough, otherwise, but you won't need that. It isn't hard, but you change colors, which is really cool. I wish I could. Anyway, I laid out some clothes for you. We need to get the rest in the laundry. Are you done yet?" She spoke without really pausing to breathe, since that was her way, just rushing quickly into life. Her lack of impulse control meant that she often just said whatever she wanted, and did it too, but she didn't invade the room to see him naked. This time.
"Almost. Just rinsing. I..." He froze, but had managed to sound decently relaxed with her. She was, as near as he had at the base, his friend. The other person he was that close to was Penny from Team Three, and Brian. Denis too, which was kind of odd, because none of them were on his team at all. It was also more than one person.
"Great! Let's hurry. I'm starving, and if we work it right we can get in on the good food. Mark is doing test products for the holiday special."
