by Kevin Rau
Bah, I want more sleep. Thanks a lot, Rael. He left the room, and I slowly crawled out of bed. It was pleasantly quiet. My vision was entirely my own, and the only voice mumbled at a distance. It sounded like Lance's voice. It was pleasant to have my vision clear of mindviews.
My morning routine went faster. No legs to shave, or other ... activities to perform. Huh. The old cliché for the morning routine just became ... shower, brush teeth, done. Unfortunately the bathroom was close enough to Lance to pick up his mindview again.
My curiosity got the best of me. I snuck into Lance's room. He still slept, but his mind was active, dreaming. His dreams focused on jumping around buildings. Okay then, there's an odd dream. I pulled his mindview close and watched for a minute, then imagined how funny it would be if dozens of giant bunnies bounded along the buildings with him. They actually appeared! They integrated into his dream, hopping along with him.
I quickly backed out of his mindview and ran out of his room, barely stifling my laughter. Even at the extreme distance to retain the mindview, they were still in his dream.
I checked the washer. Good boy, Lance! My costume was in the dryer, along with Lance's. Rael must have worn his.
I put on the costume, then jeans and a blouse over it. I wondered where to put the mask, then remembered that the material tended to stick together. Attaching it to the material over my abdomen worked quite well. If I have to change into my costume, I can easily keep my mask with me. I like it. The gloves and belt went into the purse, and I wore the boots with my jeans.
I grabbed my purse, left via the back door, and did a quick step-jab to shoot rapidly into the air. Rael was correct; it only took me a minute to get home. I grabbed my Monday set of books and notepads, and then shot back into the air toward the college. Oh, this is so much better than driving through city traffic in the morning! Flying is so freeing, and there are no voices or mindviews. I floated for a minute in the air over the city, enjoying the view from above. I had to get to school though, so I continued on my way there.
Plenty of students already walked around on campus, appearing as tiny versions of themselves walking about the miniature campus when seen from far above. Even though the earliest classes were at 8:00 A.M., the cafeteria was a popular place before then, and human traffic was heavy around that building.
I looked for a building without many people, and flew in at high speed behind it. The ground zoomed up at me before I spun my body and made my stepping down motion. It was an almost perfect landing. Perhaps a little closer than I'd prefer, actually. I turned and walked fast in the opposite direction I had been flying in to go around the building.
No one pointed me at me, or otherwise caused a commotion, so I counted my first flight to school as a success. I stopped by the cafeteria on the way. The line to buy food annoyed me. I picked up six mindviews from the three people on either side as we moved past the selections. Occasional other mindviews appeared and disappeared, making selection of items a pain in the backside because so much of my vision was covered by them, plus the distraction from where they all looked. There were enough students and faculty that I heard loud talking from most of the cafeteria. I had to blink and focus several times to select my fruit bowl and yogurt. The young man tending the register stared at my eyes for seconds before he rang up the food. I smiled at him.
I glanced around the room as well as I could, but didn't see a table separated from other students by much. I walked to the far side, and had to focus on walking just to get through the nearby tables full of students. Mindviews deluged my vision as I walked blindly past. Most disappeared near the far end of the room, and I finally fell into a seat, with ten mindviews and a crowd of noisy voices talking around me in my head. I missed my mouth with my first bite of fruit, and bonked myself on the nose.
It frustrated me, attempting to eat with so much mental noise. A large group of mindviews joined as a group sat at the next table. I focused on my breathing to keep from hyperventilating. I felt tears run down my cheeks. I'm so glad I'm not wearing makeup. I could barely hear myself think.
So many pictures, images and sounds besieged me as I tried to stab the fruit and simply get the pieces into my mouth. I felt a hand on my shoulder. I blinked repeatedly and swiped my hand in the air in an attempt to clear my vision to see who it was. It didn't work, for all the benefit of having over a dozen eyes to look through, it was too much. I couldn't focus on one to truly see out of. I failed to hear the voice over the din of mental and physical noise.
A hand took my elbow and helped me stand. I reached for my fruit and yogurt but couldn't feel them. I let the person lead me away; anything had to be better than the mental assault I was under.
Mindviews receded, as did some of the loud mental talking in the area. The person continued pulling me along, until I finally could see, and I then held my ground. My strength was so much greater than the person that I felt their arm jerk with the sudden stop. I took a few deep breaths and gulped.
A middle aged man in a relaxed suit jacket, jeans, and a button up dress shirt stood before me. One hand held my fruit and yogurt, the other my arm. He stared at me. I pulled his name from his mindview … Professor Huben.
I said, “Oh, my god, thank you.” I leaned against the wall next to us and gulped.
He asked, “Are you all right?”
“I'm fine ... fine.”
“I think you should go to the first aid station.”
“No, thank you though.” I ran my hand down my face. It surprised me that I wasn't drenched in sweat.
He tried to pull me along by my elbow; again he could barely move my arm. “All right, what happened in there?”
“Just a, umm, panic attack.” Doh, I need to figure out a cover story for times like that.
“Really. It just happens to be over with now?”
“Yeah, it was just all the people in there. Man, I didn't think about all the people that would be here.”
“What? Are you new here, in April?”
“No, I'm not new.”
“Miss, have you taken any pills, or other drugs?”
“Huh? No!”
His mind ran through the possibilities, and he didn't plan on letting me off easily. I grabbed the bowl and yogurt from him and rushed off. I called out behind me, “Thanks for the help, Professor Huben!”
He debated coming after me, but decided it wasn't worth the effort. I made my way quickly to my 8:00 A.M. class. I'd be early, but it might be nice and quiet in there. I received a few pleasant remarks about my hair, as well as a few more mental only remarks about the hair and eyes on the way there.
There were only two students in the classroom when I arrived … Dolly Steinhoff and Woody Camps. I didn't know either very well. It was a typical class, having about thirty students. I sat down in my usual seat and broke out my books. Both of their mindviews showed them staring at me.
Then, I realized how much different I looked with the new, wavy golden hair and amethyst eyes. They didn't recognize me, and wondered who I was. I quickly ate the rest of the food and threw it in the trash bin by the door. Normally, the professors weren't happy about people eating in the classrooms due to the mess or the smell.
The rest of the class filed in over the next ten minutes. Every one of them noticed me. My study buddies, Megan Wollerton and Kell Lamphiear, recognized me. Megan sat at the table for two with me, and reached out to play with my hair.
She said, “Wow, what did you do to your hair?”
When I looked at her, she added, “Wow, new contacts too!”
Ugh, I’m so mental. Why didn’t I get a disguise? I replied, “I, uh, you like the look?”
She said, “Yeah! It's beautiful, exotic too!”
I smiled, “Thank you.”
“You've been crying.”
My eyes got wide for a moment; I rubbed my face. “It was nothing.”
As the last of the students f
iled in, I was again inundated with mindviews. Fortunately, once they sat down and paid attention to Professor Pomplun they were relatively quiet, though the quantity of mindviews made it difficult to focus on any one. His voice had an odd echoing quality to it as I heard it through multiple minds.
At one point he noticed the strained expression on my face, and my hand against my head. He stepped over directly in front of our table and asked me a question. The answer he was waiting for was right there in his mindview, so I spit out the answer. Fortunately by moving closer he had given me a larger mindview to work off from.
All in all, the class was a challenge to learn much from. The disruption to me from the mindviews was a real problem. When Professor Pomplun announced the end of class, a group of students very quickly left the room. It freed up so much mental space for me that I audibly gasped.
The professor stopped by our table and asked, “Stephanie, are you feeling well today?”
I replied, “Not really. It's ... it's hard to describe.” I sighed. How the heck do you talk about super stuff, without saying right out that you are a super?
“I like the hair and contacts, it's quite a change. What is that perfume you have on?”
Ugh. I feel like I did when I confessed to Lance, Rael and Tina. I just want to run away, but I'll be seeing these two for months just this semester alone.
I waved my hand in the air, “I don’t recall the name, a gift from a friend.” I put my hands on my head.
Megan put her hand on my arm, “Come on, Stephanie, what’s wrong?”
“Damn, damn, damn. I can’t get so close to groups of people anymore.”
“Why not, did something bad happen to you over the weekend?”
She imagined me being mugged or raped.
I replied, “No, not like you’re thinking. I’ll see if I can figure a way to describe it by the time our study group meets after lunch. I might be called away though; I’m kind of waiting for an emergency call.”
“Oh my god, is your dad in the hospital or something?”
“No. Just hold off until then.”
Professor Pomplun was frustrated. He tried thinking of possible problems, or things he could say to help. Understanding college age women had never seemed his strong suit.
Megan said, “Okay, fine. I’ll wait until our study group meets. I hope I can concentrate on my classes now that you’ve thrown this mystery at me.” Hmm, she colors her hair and starts wearing contacts. Wasn’t dating before, so no breakup.
I shrugged, “I’m sorry about that.”
She said, “I’ll walk you to Bio. See you Wednesday, Professor.” He nodded to us, but watched me intently.
I nodded to Megan, “Thanks.”
My head snapped up to look at the professor as he debated talking to the counseling department to make sure I got some help.
I said, “Oh, come on. Professor, please hold off on calling for some kind of help for me, please?”
He looked surprised. “What? Did I say something out loud? Was I thinking that hard about it?”
Megan asked, “Huh? Did I miss something?”
He said, “She just read my mind. All right, if you promise that you’ll seek out help on your own. At the very least I want you to talk to Megan or other friends about the problem. Don’t sit on a problem, use the resources available to you.”
I nodded. “Thank you.”
Megan and I walked to the next class. Her thoughts entirely focused on me. Why did I change my hair? She never recalled me saying that I wore contacts, yet here I wore such a different color. What was this perfume? Megan had some nice perfumes, but nothing like what I was wearing … it must be expensive.
Finally, she couldn’t contain herself, and asked, “Since when did you wear contacts?”
I don’t want to lie about wearing contacts. Aha…. “Do you like the new color?”
“Yeah, very pretty. Very exotic. Are you trying to steal even more looks from the boys?”
I laughed, “No, that wasn’t the thought. I guess I just wanted to be … different.”
“Did you get a tattoo as well? Such a huge change on the hair and eyes, you had to have gone all out this weekend.”
I laughed again, “No, I didn’t get a tattoo. I, uh, was in the hospital for a while Saturday. It made me change my outlook on some things.”
She stared at my face as we walked, trying to pick up something, anything to clue her in. Suddenly she grabbed my shoulder and stopped. I hadn’t expected the sudden movement, and didn’t stop as fast. Her thin frame wasn’t possibly strong enough to stop me, and I ended up yanking her forward a few steps. I quickly stopped.
Her eyes narrowed. “Wow, are you grumpy?”
“No, I … you’re putting me in a difficult spot, Megan.”
“Good. Fess up to me. Since when have you ever gotten your eyebrows colored? You’ve only ever had your hair highlighted, never such a huge change in color.”
“What are you, a super sleuth or something now? Yeah, I changed them at the same time as the hair.”
Her face kind of scrunched up. “Damn it, Stephanie. Come on! Share with me!”
“Everyone’s staring at us, Megan. Let’s go. Study group.” Maybe I should skip a class, go visit some of the writer’s club people and have them make me up a good story. That’d be worth fifty bucks or so….
We arrived at Biology. I stopped and stared into the classroom. Oh, no. I hadn’t even thought about the auditorium classes. Dozens of people had already packed into the theater seating. Seating that could easily fit forty people closely around me within mindview range, if not many more. A cold chill ran down my spine.
Megan stopped and looked at me. “What’s the matter?”
I saw my own horrified expression in her mindview. “I can’t go in there. Too many people. Way too many people.”
“You have to go to class, Stephanie.”
I licked my lips and looked around. I stepped inside the entrance and looked around the room. Too many people filled the classroom. No seat had less than a dozen people near it. Students walked past us, mindviews appeared and disappeared. The verbal chatter even here was noisy without counting the mindviews.
“No, I can’t sit in here.” I walked back out, past some incoming students.
Megan made an exasperated sigh sound. “Okay, fine. I’ll take notes for you today, all right?”
I hugged her. “Thank you, Megan.”
She returned the hug, just about moved back and stopped. Her eyes narrowed again while our faces were only six inches apart. She smelled my breath, and it was the same scent as my body, even more potent. I stepped back before she could kiss me. Not that I would mind kissing her, rather that some guys had stopped to watch the two of us hugging each other.
I said, “Go, we’re attracting a crowd. I’ll catch what I can of class out here, and walk with you to DNA class.”
She had a pleasantly mesmerized look on her face. “Wow. All right, I’ll meet you out here.”
I waited outside the class, sitting against the wall. When the professor began class, I shifted my position to be just within mindview range of several students. I had to move early on, as they slacked off and didn’t pay attention. The next group had two students who dutifully paid attention. I took notes through their mindviews. This could work. I also gained the benefit of seeing how multiple people linked topics together from prior classes and this one.
Once, one of them, a girl named Kelli, mistook something the professor said. I whispered my clarification to it to myself. All of my mindview participants looked around. They heard me. Several of them agreed with me in their minds.
Kelli had the image of my face in her thoughts. She had seen me whisper it to her. She looked around, attempting to find me. She missed out on some information. I couldn’t help but think. Kelli, pay attention to the professor. I’m not seated near you.
>
Now all three of my mindview linked people looked around. Two of them wondered who Kelli was, and who I was. Why couldn’t they see me?
Damn it. All of us are going to miss this class. Pay attention to the professor! The tingle ran over my skin. Yes! Can I make people pay attention to someone? It’s worth trying.
I stood up and focused on spreading my pheromones. Pay attention to the professor. Pay attention to him. I walked to the doorway and stood there a minute, feeling the tingle go in waves over my skin.
A wave spread out from me, where nearly all students shifted all of their attention to the professor. The professor shifted back and forth from his projector, to the white board, to looking out at the class and simply stopped talking. He stared for a moment at all the uniformly rapt attention such a large group paid to him. Then he looked directly at me, highlighted in the doorway. It took me a moment to notice, I had been focused on spreading the pheromones and watching the reactions of the students.
Even at the doorway, the mindviews steadied, all those within range focused on the professor, who started off past them. The mental ‘verbal chatter’ cut down to a minimum. I felt people standing around me as students walking past stopped and watched the professor in the doorway with me. The tingling stopped.
Professor Stonewall closed the cap on his marker and walked to the steps on the side. He then walked up the stairs toward me. Oh shit, he’s looking at me. I turned to leave, but my path was blocked by a dozen students all tightly packed behind me, watching the professor. Apparently I’d forced a bunch of students walking by in the hall to watch the professor along with those in the room. Great, I've trapped myself.
He looked around at all the students. The other areas of the room looked around as normal, but the entire section near me watched him like a hawk. They all dutifully stared at him, yet I was the only one moving around. The mindviews still didn’t bother me as much as usual, even though I had the equivalent of thirty television screens filling my visual space. They all looked at him, which is what I would have done. I could push the people out of the way, but I know I’m a lot stronger than they are. I might hurt some. Oh shit, oh shit. The seats began right at the back of the room; I couldn’t even scoot past people against the wall. I couldn't look around for other options; my vision was filled to the brim with mindviews that all watched the professor. I was trapped.
He reached me, now everyone also had me in their vision, though they focused almost entirely on him. He said, “Hello.”
I couldn’t single out his mindview to read his mind; there were too many others right beside me. I heard what he said at least, so few of the mental voices had chatter, and his voice echoed through all of their mindviews.
“Umm, hello.”
“You are disrupting my class, Miss…?”
“No, um, I was focusing them, some weren’t paying attention. I couldn’t hear….”
“I didn’t hear people talking. Again, you are Miss…?”
“Stephanie, sir.” I looked down. Oh, man, he’s going to be pissed off at me disrupting his class. I wish I could single out his mindview.
He said, “Come with me.” Loudly he said, “Class is to read chapters 32 and 33 during the rest of this class, then you may go.”
He started down the steps, and then stopped and looked back at me. “Come with me.”
“I, uh, I need my books.”
“Your books? You’re a student?”
“Yes, they're outside on the floor of the hall.”
“Well, then get them. You people, in the doorway. If you aren’t in this class, move along. Now.”
Some of them obeyed. I debated running. It wouldn’t help though. He knew what I looked like now, and it was a pretty unusual look. I stood out like a sore thumb the size of those spongy giant hands used for sporting events.
I stepped out, and had to fumble a bit to grab my notepad and backpack. I still had so many mindviews up that I couldn’t see. They all continued to stare at the professor, so the hallway was blind to me. I moved back into the room; a little worried about the number of mindviews I’d pass. They still focused on the professor though, and were reasonably quiet.
I walked down the steps through the room toward the podium area where the professor stood. The mindviews doubled in number, and I felt short of breath. Even focused on the professor there were dozens of them due to the packed seating. By the time I was about two thirds the distance down the steps I found myself entering the area where people hadn’t been affected by the pheromones. Thoughts went wild as to their content. The amount of mental talking and shouting became overbearing.
I shook my head slightly; then put my hand on my head, but I couldn’t hear myself think, nor could I see through the swarm of confusing images. I had a falling sensation, and the voices blissfully stopped.
I heard voices. More and more voices came into being, until the world became a shouting match in my head. Mindviews sprung into being, and I saw through dozens of eyes again.
I cried out in alarm, and put my hands on my head, hoping to block them out. It didn’t work. People purposefully crowded into a small area to see what was happening. It was too much, I blacked out again.
I awoke again. At first I heard their mental voices, and then the mindviews appeared. There were far fewer this time, perhaps a dozen. It was still too many to see or make much sense out of.
I mumbled, “Too many people. I can’t see, there are too many people here.”
The voices kept chattering, and then approximately half of them quieted down. A few disappeared entirely. Half a dozen mindviews were still active, and a few handfuls of mental voices talking around the room. I could focus with this many.
I put my hand on my head - apparently I was lying down. I seem to be doing a lot of this the last few days. I didn’t need to open my eyes to look around. I’m not sure it would have helped anyway. Six mindviews nearly filled my entire visual space, even with my eyes closed. They were fairly large, so the people must have been very close to me. The majority of them watched me. They noticed that I was awake.
Professor Stonewall was there, as were two students in their later medical degree programs. Another professor I didn’t recognize, Megan, and a nurse from the health center. Apparently the nurse had just arrived.
She asked, “You said she had a cut right here?” She looked and pointed at my forehead, which had a small amount of blood on it. She wiped off the blood, but there was no cut.
Oh, no. My eyes snapped open. I believe I accidentally said, “Shit.”
I closed my eyes for a moment and sighed.
I opened them again and said, “I’m fine … Nurse Lateire.”
Nurse Lateire said, “I don’t believe so, dearie. You fell down the steps and hit your head. Feinting in the first place isn’t good. Have you been eating properly, or had an illness?”
I replied, “No, I’m fine. I mean, yes, I’ve been eating just fine. I workout almost every day, I’m extremely healthy, thank you.”
“I believe we should have a doctor take a look to be safe.”
“No. Thank you though.” Sheesh, what is it with everyone wanting me to see a therapist, or a doctor, or have an MRI, or testing.
“Dearie, you feinted twice.”
“Yes, well, I’m fine now.” I sat up. They moved back a foot or two when I did.
Professor Stonewall connected the dots in his mind. He replayed the scene of my eyes glowing at the back of the classroom, and the cut healing. He had watched it heal. The unusual hair and eyes combined with the timing of the meteor shower clinched it for him. He recognized that I didn’t want to let out my secret.
He said, “Nurse, I need to discuss class with her in my office. Let me work at convincing her, hmm? We see that she’s not actually cut, so there’s no apparent injury.”
The nurse replied, “I can demand a doctor’s note before I allow he
r to return to class....”
He said, “If she acts any more strangely, or won't comply with reasonable requests, then I promise to give you a call and request that note. Will that fulfill your requirements?” Oh, crap. His idea of reasonable requests is an interrogation on my apparent changes and whatever I did in class.
“I suppose so. You hear that, young lady? If you have any more feinting spells, you call Health Services. If you give Professor Stonewall a problem, he'll call Health Services.”
I sighed and nodded. “Yes, ma'am.” I wonder if I could give them all temporary amnesia.... That might be easier right now. I need to make sure Megan doesn’t get in on this discussion. “Megan, if I have to go talk with Professor Stonewall right now, how about I meet you at Professor Gently's DNA class?”
Megan replied, “You sure? I could accompany you….”
Professor Stonewall was most astute, he said, “Megan, I need to discuss some things with Ms. Quinn. I'd prefer not to have an audience. I believe she would as well for this.” Thanks professor. Although … he’s obviously good at picking things up, this ‘discussion’ may not go so well for me.
Megan nodded. “Oh. Sorry Steph. I'll see you in what, an hour and a half then?”
I nodded. “Okay. If I don’t show up, call in a rescue squad to free me from Professor Stonewall.”
She laughed and walked off. But I wasn’t joking….
Nurse Lateire, the medical students and Megan all left the room. The professor I didn't recognize asked if he was needed. When Professor Stonewall shook his head and thanked him, he said, “I hope you’re feeling better, Stephanie.” Then he left.
Professor Stonewall said, “Well, shall we continue to my office now? Will you be fine walking there?”
I nodded. We walked back to his office. His mindview showed him keeping watch over me like a hawk. He was extremely observant. He motioned to one of the chairs and closed the door. He then waited until I sat down before he sat down behind his desk. “You mentioned you are a student, Stephanie. Are you in my class?”
I couldn’t help but squirm. This was uncomfortable as could be. I looked at the doorway for a moment, debating on escape yet again. Running won’t help; I have to see him again for class in two days. I sighed. “Yes sir. I’m in your class.”
“I’ve either never seen you before, or you’ve always worn a wig.”
“I’ve been your student in multiple classes.”
“You changed this weekend, didn’t you?”
That startled me. Whoa. How's that for direct? His mindview showed that he paid great attention to the meteor shower events of the weekend. He hadn’t expected any of his students to change, though. When I backed out of his memories I saw his current view, and my eyes were backlit ever so slightly. He watched them intently. Crap. Nice one, Stephanie.
I sighed and said, “Yeah, I changed Saturday night.”
“Why weren’t you sitting in the class with everyone?”
“I … I can’t.” My eyes teared up as I softly said, “Well, not now, not anymore.” He replayed his memory of my mumbling about too many people around me just after I woke up a short while ago.
“I’m curious about the change, do you mind if I call Brent in? Brent Gently, professor of genetics.”
A horrified expression crossed my face. Professor Gently was one of my primary professors for my genetics degree program. Professor Stonewall was honestly curious though. He didn’t have any ill thoughts.
However, if he spreads information about my secret, oh, man, this is escalating out of my control. What if everyone knows I’m a super? Wait, what if? They could find out where live, I suppose, although if I don’t move out into the country, someone’s going to see me flying around anyway. Why can’t I be a public hero? Lance wants to be a public hero. I never really thought that part of being a super through. I’ll bet that Lance has though.
I was deep in thought, so he made the call anyway. “Would you like some water, or orange juice?” I totally missed the content of his call, I was so distraught.
I appeared paranoid in his mindview of me. I sighed shakily and attempted to calm down, “Sure, I’ll have some orange juice.”
The door practically burst open. Professor Gently rushed in. He glanced at me, then at Professor Stonewall. “What the heck is the emergency?”
Professor Stonewall motioned to the other empty chair. “Sit. Stephanie here is a new super. I wanted to ask her some questions, and I knew you would kill yourself if you weren’t here.”
Professor Gently closed the door and sat down in the other guest chair. He said, “Excellent! Hi, I’m … wait a moment, I know you ... Miss Quinn?”
I nodded. I couldn’t look him in the eye, I felt like I was about to get yelled at by my father.
He was highly excited, “I can’t believe someone actually in our genetics program changed. What happened? Obviously your hair and eyes changed.” He reached over and tipped my chin up. I looked him in the eye. He said, “Wow! Amethyst eyes, very neat.” Neat? Is that a technical term?
I nodded and sighed again. “I hadn’t really planned on letting anyone know. I’m signing up for H.E.R.O. later today.”
He cried out and grabbed my upper arms, “No! You can’t leave our genetics program!” He looked at each of my arms where he held them. “Holy cow, you have a lot of muscle in these small arms.”
I interrupted him, “I’m not quitting my degree. I’m not sure how I’ll do all my classes now though. I … I can’t sit in a room full of people anymore.”
They both looked confused, and couldn’t fathom a reason why something like that would change.
I continued, “Will you two promise me, promise that everything spoken in here stays in here?”
That deflated their enthusiasm. Professor Stonewall’s mind whipped through a series of people he had wanted to discuss this with. Possible testing to do, perhaps some papers or a book collaborated on with me. Professor Stonewall quietly asked, “Are you sure? Could this change in the future?”
I said, “It might. I don’t know what will happen yet. But I want it out on my terms. Coming to school today is already causing me problems. Just not for now, please.”
They nodded.
Professor Gently said, “You have much firmer biceps than most women. Is that new?”
I said, “Yes and no. I always worked out a fair amount, but I’ve gained more muscle. I’m far stronger than I used to be.”
Professor Stonewall asked, “So, what happened? What was the change like?”
I grimaced. “It was painful. I remember the feeling that my blood was burning. I think I was unconscious for a chunk of it, and then when someone broke my shoulder I blacked out. I woke up again in the hospital in the middle of a fight. I ... I helped stop this rampaging mutant, and someone knocked me out again. I woke up in the middle of an interrogation with some others who had been changed as well. I think the changes had pretty much finished by then.”
Professor Stonewall said, “Hmm, the burning sensation might have been your nerves responding to changes. Or perhaps extraneous heat generated by the cells changing in your body. How did your hair change color? Was it spontaneous?”
I ran my fingers through my hair. “Umm, no. The gold hair grew out and the old hair fell out. So I have an entirely new head of hair. I'm not sure how the eyes changed color.”
He continued, “Your eyes were backlit in the classroom, they were a minute ago slightly, and yet they aren't now. Any idea what causes that?”
I shrugged. “Possibly when I get angry, or use certain of my abilities.”
Professor Gently asked, “Have you found out what powers you have?”
“Several. I can fly, for one. I ... here.” I held out my hand, palm upright to Professor Gently. He looked at it, and then took my hand. “Smell my hand.”
He raised his eyebrow, and th
en sniffed at my hand. Then he held my hand tighter and buried his nose in my palm, and took a deep breath. “Wow! Is that natural?”
I nodded. Professor Stonewall thought of different things that could cause a pleasant aroma. The only obvious one was a sort of scent, or pheromone. He asked, “May I?”
I stood up and held my other hand out to him, across the desk. He gently held my hand and mirrored Professor Gently's sniffing, and then deeply smelled.
He said, “That has to be a pheromone. It only affects males? Wait that can't be, everyone in class near you was staring at me, I assume you were using this on them.”
I replied, “It affects almost everyone that I know of.”
Professor Stonewall continued, “You can emit this at will?”
“What you smell now is just my normal state. What I did in your classroom was intentional.”
He asked, “You mentioned that you couldn't sit in class any more. Smelling unusually good wouldn't prevent that, nor would flight. What changed to make you not want to sit in class?”
I could just say it, but a demonstration might be more interesting. I pulled his mindview close and entered it. I didn't interact with his thoughts; instead I dove into his mental center, and went to the largest door. I hoped this would be standard with most people. It wasn't closed, or hard to enter on the professor.
I wanted information on his home and family. I glanced around the massive chamber and saw many images of a woman and the same children. I motioned to them, and the images came to me. I pulled out names and ages for his wife and children, as well as the street address. Then, I pulled up a random memory of a shopping trip he'd done for some books. I noted the names of the books he'd picked up and read the covers of, as well as those he bought. I flew out of the center and back through his mindview. I shook my head to clear it, leaving his mindview had an odd, stunning effect on me.
When I could see again through my own eyes, I smiled at him. They both wondered why I had been sitting there staring at Professor Stonewall for a few dozen seconds, thought both noticed the golden backlighting to my eyes, darkening the amethyst iris.
I said, “Your wife's name is Joyce, she's forty one years old, has light blue eyes and straight blonde hair. Your son is Anton, he's seventeen years old, is very thin, has blonde hair and light blue eyes. Your daughter's name is Ninette. She's ten, and has dark brown wavy hair, and gray eyes. You live at 934 Tellmont Street, in a brick faced house that is tan on the sides and back.”
It took me a moment to review the bookstore memory; then I continued. “You went to Hampton's Bookstore last week. You picked up two science fiction novels and held a total of eight books in your hand. If you want I can list the titles.”
They stared at me, wondering what I'd done. I said, “I'm a mind reader.”
Professor Gently wondered if I knew that he'd been 'checking me out' as I spoke to Professor Stonewall.
I winked at Professor Gently and smiled. “Well, I know now. It really doesn't bother me; my costume is far more revealing than the shirt and pants.”
He blushed. Professor Stonewall looked back and forth at us and said, “What do you know now?”
I replied, “That he's a man. I answered his thoughts. Fine, let's play a game. You picture something, I'll answer it.”
I'd heard of psychic tests they did many years ago for this type of stuff, but with the mindviews it really ought to be a joke.
Stonewall thought of a blue car, Gently thought of a DNA strand. I described both, pointing at the person with the appropriate image. Next were a brown bear and a volleyball game last week at Delaney’s Bar for Professor Gently. I described both, spending more time describing the bar scene. I added, “You never struck me as the sort to go to bars, Professor. You should try Score! - a friend of mine works there.”
He said, “Wow … that was unbelievably accurate. Tim, I don't think we need to test her any more, there's no way she could have guessed all that.”
Stonewall closed his eyes and rapidly ran through a succession of topics from classes he'd been working on. I rattled off the topics as he thought through them.
I said, “Proof enough?”
Professor Gently nodded, “That is … impressive. So ... you obviously see a visual of what the person sees, or you would have problems with the volleyball game. How did you pull some of those topics, they couldn't have been visuals, right Tim?”
Professor Stonewall said, “No, most weren't, though a few were. I'm very impressed. That's a real gift.”
I said, “Yeah, a gift until you try sitting in a classroom full of people, and it sounds like dozens of people are all crowding up to you and loudly speaking at the same time, plus seeing floating television screens in my visual space for every person nearby. It gets too crowded to even think for myself.”
“Floating television screens?”
“Yeah, people nearby cause what kind of looks like a floating television screen here.” I waved my arms in my visual space.
“Why didn't you have problems in the doorway of my classroom then? There were dozens of students sitting close to the door, plus a dozen standing right by you looking in.”
“I'd already forced them all to pay attention to you. They weren't thinking so many random thoughts, and every mind was focused on you. It made it far easier to deal with, though not pleasant, by any means. Call Professor Pomplun, ask him what I was like in his class this morning.”
Professor Stonewall shrugged, looked up the extension in his directory and called Professor Pomplun. I listened to both sides of the conversation in Professor Stonewall's mindview.
Professor Stonewall said, “Don? This is Tim Stonewall, Biology Department. I'd like to ask you if you saw Stephanie Quinn in your class this morning, and if she looked odd to you.”
Professor Pomplun replied, “Yes, she looked like she had a nasty headache, and was distracted most of the class. She occasionally made odd pushing motions with her hands as well, usually off to one side or another. At the end a friend of hers and I tried to ask her what was wrong, but she wouldn't reply. I think something bad happened to her over the weekend that is too personal to talk about. I've debated calling the counseling group to hunt her down and get her to talk. I'm worried that those pushing motions are her trying to push away the bad memory, or worse yet, someone she's remembering doing something to her.”
Professor Stonewall said, “Thank you, Professor. Two of us are having a discussion with her now about it, so you can hold off on calling counseling. She asked me to call you as proof of it being hard to be in a room full of students.”
“Oh, excellent then. Is there anything I can do? I hate to think about one of my students having a problem like that without people to help her.”
“It doesn't appear that the problem is the same as what you think it is. She's asked me not to discuss the topic with others, but I believe I'm all right in saying it doesn't involve someone doing something to her.”
“Good, I'm extremely glad to hear that. Would you let her know that I'm available if she needs to talk with someone?”
“I'll do that. Thank you, Don.”
“Thanks for calling, Tim.”
Professor Stonewall looked at me, “He said you looked like you had a headache and were distracted during class. Also that you tended to make pushing motions with your hands.”
“Yeah, and you saw me walk through your crowded theater style classroom. There were too many people in there for me. I think I blacked out when I got near the section that my pheromones hadn't affected.”
I smiled, “By the way, Professor Pomplun said much more than that, Professor. I heard everything you heard. For the record, no, I didn't get mugged or raped. I did get shot twice, had my right shoulder and left humerus broken or crushed, and a few odd stabbing problems.”
Professor Stonewall’s jaw hung open; Professor Gently stared at me with his closed. Professor Gentl
y asked, “Are you serious?”
I nodded, “I am.”
“Would it be prying to ask to see the wounds?”
“I don't mind, they don't look unusual now though.” I began unbuttoning my blouse.
Professor Stonewall put up his hand and said, “Wait, I don't want you undressing in an office with two professors.”
I grinned at him, but didn’t stop unbuttoning. “I'm wearing my costume under this; I mentioned I'm joining H.E.R.O., right?”
I finished unbuttoning it, and pulled off the shirt. Both of them were momentarily distracted by the body fitting uniform and the oval openings over my abdomen.
When I saw their reactions, my grin grew even more. “If all criminals would just have the reaction you two do now, I'd be able to distract them enough to stop the crime pretty easily.”
Both of them blushed, and avoided staring at me.
I said, “Guys, I'm not afraid of being looked at. I've seen, um, a lot of people's minds as they stared at me so far. I get to be a narcissist without looking in a mirror now.” I chuckled at my own joke.
I held out my left arm again. “I was told that a brick crushed my humerus, but I can't find any marks.”
Professor Gently examined my biceps and triceps. “I can't spot any visible signs of damage. No soreness?”
“None.” I turned the chair and leaned my right shoulder forward. “I don't recall exactly where he grabbed me and broke my shoulder, but it hurt like mad. He's got big hands too; it might have had multiple breaks.”
"I can't believe how solid your muscles feel. That alone would be interesting to study ... muscle density."
Oh, this will be fun watching their reactions. I pulled up my bottom of my top half of the costume to just below my breasts. I pointed at the two locations of the bullet wounds. “I was shot approximately here and here. I also had three or four stab wounds about here.” Sure enough, both of them looked both uncomfortable and excited to see me pull up the top that far. Let's really poke fun at their reactions....
I reached back and grabbed the top of my pants. “Oh, and I was clawed on my butt....” I made a motion as if I would pull down my pants. They were like a deer in headlights. They wanted to look away, but couldn't. Professor Stonewall's mouth was open, and he wanted to get the words out to ask me to stop.
I laughed, “I'm joking on the butt thing. However, your mental reactions are pretty enjoyable to watch right now…. You know, Professor Gently, it's going to be hard thinking of you as this stodgy professor figure if you keep thinking like that. I'm sorry for picking on you. Well, a little at least. I know that your thoughts are your own; you shouldn't be beat down for just thinking something and not acting on it. I won't mention it to anyone outside this room.” I feel like I have a tiny Lance standing on my shoulder.
He said, “Well, thank you for that.”
Professor Stonewall said, “You, ah, could put your shirt back down now. So I take it that you heal fast as well?”
I replied, “It seems like every super I've met heals fast. Bullets push their own way out of my body in a few minutes at most. Maybe even one. Hey, I've got an idea.” I grabbed his scissors off the desk organizer, and sliced into my forearm. “Ow ... that hurt.” How can Rael like getting cut or beat on?
We all watched as the cut reformed in front of us. It took mere seconds to repair the damage. I leaned over, grabbed a Kleenex and wiped the blood off the arm. “See? All healed.”
Professor Gently's mindview lit up with possibilities to test in the lab.
Ooh, this has possibilities! I looked at him, “If you wanted to get a small group authorized for a few credits of special study, I'd be willing to donate the blood and hair to test, Professor. So long as I'm in that study group as well.” I gave him a sweet smile.
He said, “I'm absolutely positive I can arrange that. To be able to directly study the DNA of a metahuman would be amazing. Although, generally I’d only bring in graduate students on a study like this. So be forewarned, you’d have even more studying or other work to do on it for the credits. I don’t imagine the university going for free credits even if money, or in this case blood and tissue samples, are given.”
He’s being kind, I hear his mental worries about being years of knowledge behind the more advanced students. But since I hold the key to making it all possible he’s willing to do it.
I said, “The group would need to be reasonably small though, Professor. I have a difficult time with more than six people in close proximity to me at a time.”
He asked, “What exactly does it do when that many people are near you that makes it so difficult?”
I said, “In an area about thirty to fifty feet radius around me I can hear what people are thinking. It's like they are speaking out loud near me. Those within perhaps thirty feet sound pretty loud. Even more if they are 'shouting' or mentally thinking loudly. It's like being in a restaurant and trying to talk to the people at your table. Everyone nearby talking causes background noise. If everyone happens to speak at once, it creates a huge amount of background noise, making it very hard to hear the people at your own table. It's like that for me.”
I continued, “Now take everyone very close to me, perhaps within fifteen feet. Those people I see what I've nicknamed a 'mindview' of what they either are seeing, or are imagining at any time. Someone deep in thought replaying a memory, or spending so much of their mental visuals as to replace much of what they are seeing out of their eyes will replace their actual visuals. Anyone who isn't really visualizing anything I simply see, hear, smell, feel, etc. what they do.”
Professor Gently asked, “So do these stack, show up separately, what do they appear as to you?”
I replied, “They look like televisions that replace what I see out of my own eyes. They float in the air, and generally move around based on where the person is located. Your mindviews are here and here.” I used my hands to create good sized boxes in the air. “The closer you get to me, the larger your mindview gets, and will overlap other mindviews.”
He asked, “So can you see past the mindview, how many fingers am I holding up?””
I said, “At first, no I didn't see your hand. When I think to look in an area, and only have a few mindviews up, they move out of the way of where I'm looking directly. Two fingers and a thumb, by the way.”
“All right, you said you have a difficult time with more than six people at a time. You just said they overlap, don't these mindviews stack up?”
“No, they don't. They all spread out in my vision. They overlap very little unless I have many in my vision, and even then they seem to try and stay as fully visible as possible. At six I have a small amount of space where I can actually see past them all. Get a group of ten people near me, and the damn things cover my entire vision plus overlap each other, I can't see on my own at all then. Actually, even six is pretty rough depending on how close the people are.”
“So ... you're blind when near that many people?”
“Not really blind. I see out of all of their eyes. I just can't see out of my own. But add in all those mental voices, and even a quiet room to you sounds like a cacophony of talking to me. Everyone talking at once, all the time.”
“Oh my. That sounds like a challenge to be able to focus then.”
“It is. I'm worried about how I'll handle classes. If one of my smallest classes is hard to sit in, I'm thinking I'll have to sit outside the room and take notes from someone else's mindview every day just to handle it.” I sighed and ran my hand through my hair. “This room probably seems quiet to you two. But I hear you both loudly, plus the mindviews, plus an occasional mindview from someone on the floor above or below us, or who walks near this room. There are about eight other people at any point in time that I hear mentally talking as though they are in this room as well.”
Professor Stonewall blinked a few times, he was mentally processing wh
at I’d said. “You could sit near the professor. Perhaps an ideal location wouldn't be outside the room at the back, but outside the room at the front. This assumes an empty room or hallway on the side of the room the professor stands on, of course. Alternately, a seat in the corner by yourself at the front may work, though that may cause a significant amount of distraction to other students.”
Professor Gently said, “So you can fly, read minds, heal fast, and emit pheromones or other scent agent. That's a nice group of powers. I wasn't aware that metahumans had so many.”
“I'm second generation, which might be part of it. My father is a super as well. I didn't have any powers until the meteor shower on Saturday though.”
“Hmm. That you know of, at least. You've always been unusually fit. You're bright as well as beautiful. Those aren't common traits, or the average Intelligence Quotient would be 130 instead of 100. Were you sick often, before the change?”
“No. It was pretty rare for me to get sick. I don't know what would happen now with an illness at the rate I'm healing wounds.”
“We could test that sort of thing by introducing viruses and bacteria to test blood samples. We could even test damaging blood cells with a variety of agents to see how they heal.”
“You're getting awfully excited about me being a guinea pig, Professor Gently.”
“I am, indeed I am. How can I not be? Our program has tried obtaining supers for testing in conjunction with our program, but there are so few out there, and they just aren't willing to be, err, well, guinea pigs.”
“Actually, you mentioned 'read minds' as one of my powers. I've had a few cases so far of being able to talk to others mentally as well. I did it a few times to people in your class, Professor Stonewall. The first time was an accident; Kelli was one of the people I was using to make notes off from. Then, she misunderstood something you said. When I corrected her; she and the others I had mindviews of heard me.”
“That's full blown telepathy then. Very impressive.”
“Empathy might be in there as well. If I have a mindview of someone, I see, hear, and feel what they do. Wait, I taste it and smell it as well. It's nice when Rael smells my hair.” My mind wandered a moment until their thoughts interrupted me. I sighed, hardly ever a moment of peace any more.
I continued, “In answer to your unasked questions, Rael is one of my best friends, who also happens to have an extremely sharp nose. When he smells my hair, he's touching me, so the mindview is very large, and I get the sense of smell strongly through him too.”
“So it's more like a window into their consciousness then, not just what they are thinking?”
I shrugged. “I guess. I've only had it for a day and a half now. Sometimes the sense of touch can be a little overwhelming when we both feel something similar.” I realized where my own thoughts went on that and blushed.
Professor Stonewall's eyebrow raised, but his thoughts didn't explore the line of thought. Professor Gently wrapped his mind around the thought in depth.
Professor Gently said, “Let me get this one straight. If you were eating something you like, such as a chocolate sundae, and enjoying it, and I were eating something similar, you would be feeling both taste sensations?”
I replied, “Well, the enjoyment of it at the least. I suppose if I focused on your mindview I would probably taste what you did, and might enjoy that or not. But I would still sense that you enjoyed it, and that leaks through to me. I've been right by two very angry people, and I ended up getting angry because of them, I think.”
Professor Gently continued, “So if you are enjoying the touch of something, and they are enjoying the touch of something, you get double that enjoyment?” He was trying to get an answer to his own naughty thoughts, without overtly asking the question.
I blushed more deeply. “Uh, well, I’ve only tried kissing a few people.”
He leaned back in his chair, imagining some wicked scenes. “Wow, I'd think some people would find it difficult to not spend an inordinate amount of time doing certain ... activities, um, such as eating desserts, of course.”
I laughed. “I see what you are thinking, remember, Professor?”
Professor Stonewall was staunchly thinking about other topics, he forced himself to think about the regeneration, and then flight came to mind. He wondered how one controlled flying.
I glanced around the room and said, “I'll demonstrate, Professor. Though there isn't much room in here.” I stood up and did my step push to become airborne, then pushed down to stop, since I normally kept floating up. I floated in the air and looked down at them.
Professor Stonewall said, “Thank you, and that is fascinating. Do you mind if I test something?” He pictured pushing me on the shoulder to see if I would move.
“Sure, give it a try. Worst case is that I bump the wall or fall. That would be pretty minor compared to being shot.”
He stood and walked around the desk. Then he pushed me gently on the stomach. I didn't try to stand my ground, or air as it were. The push caused me to float gently toward the wall, until I bumped into it. I pushed off the wall and stepped down to float to the ground.
“All right, I can see both of you are wondering if I'm capable of carrying people. I still have about 30 minutes before my next class, since I so rudely interrupted Professor Stonewall's Bio class. Would you both like to have a short flight over the city? Individually, of course.”
Their imaginations ran wild. I grabbed my blouse and put it back on. I said, “I'm not going to promise to fly everyone in the department or something. I might, but I won't promise.”
Professor Stonewall asked, “You are offering to go outside right now and actually fly us over the city?”
“Yes.”
“Wow, thank you.”
“I can say what it's like, but until you do it, it's just not the same.”
“Don't we have to worry about our clothes, or wear goggles due to the wind?”
“No, something about my flight keeps it easy to breathe and reduces the wind shear a huge amount. It still gets cold, and the air becomes harder to breathe high up, so I won't go too far up.”
I walked with them out to a lesser used door. I said, “Who's older?”
Professor Stonewall said, “I believe I am, why?”
“Then I'll fly you first.” I put my arm around his waist and hugged him, then smiled and winked at him. He got the look I had been seeing on people when they first get close to me. He couldn't resist leaning down and smelling my hair deeply. I closed my eyes and simply enjoyed his sensation. “Ready?”
He leaned back and looked at my face. “Ah, how should I hold onto you?” He attempted to think of ways to do it without facing harassment possibilities.
I could be nice ... nah. Besides, I enjoy being held. “You'd better put your arms around my waist.”
He glanced around nervously. He very much didn't want to be seen holding a student in such a way. He did do it though. I grinned and made sure my left leg was outside his body. Then I step-pushed and we were slowly airborne. I grinned, then jabbed my left knee upward. We shot into the air. His semi-loose grip became a death-hug. I angled us to fly horizontally perhaps twenty stories up.
“I promise I won't drop you, you can let go of me if you'd like, Professor.”
“You're certain it's safe?”
“Very.”
He let go of me with one arm, and I shifted him slightly so we flew at an angle to each other, letting him have a better look at the city.
He said, “This is beautiful.”
I smiled, “You ready for stage two?”
“Stage two?”
I grinned. Then I jabbed my knee in the air again and kept it up so our speed climbed. The ground soon zipped by under us at hundreds of miles per hour.
He asked, “Are you all right? You’re shaking.”
I answered through gritted teeth, “I'm pushing our spee
d up, or trying to.”
Finally I felt a rush of tingling down my spine, and our speed greatly increased. Then we dimly felt the boom, and were flying faster than the sound barrier. We reached the outermost limits of the city in minutes, and I curved us around the outside of the city. I angled us up to be well away from the city before I dropped our speed, then slowed us down and took an angled route back toward the University at a slower pace.
After about ten minutes I landed us by the building. I slowed down near the top of the building rather than risk coming in too fast with a passenger. We gently stepped to the ground.
He hugged me and said, “That was unbelievable. Thank you for sharing it.”
I returned the hug. “My pleasure.”
“You should make sure not to fly too low at Mach One, or angle downward so as to avoid breaking windows and injuring people’s eardrums.”
I nodded.
I did the same with Professor Gently. The flight went smoothly, and I was able to hit Mach one easier that time. He was far more excited about the mechanics of the flight. How I sped up, slowed down, and changed direction.
We landed, and he also gave me a hug.
I glanced at my watch. “I have to get to my next class or I'll be late.”
Professor Gently said, “That's my class you're in.”
“Oh, right.”
“Walk with me.”
“Okay. I don't know if I can go into the classroom though, unless everyone happens to sit at the very front. Like that'll happen.”
“That's fine. Class won't begin until I arrive, no matter what though.”
Professor Stonewall said, “Thank you again for flying me. I’ll try to think of other solutions to your unique problem in classrooms.”
“Thanks, Professor Stonewall.”
We all headed back into the building. Professor Gently and I stopped by his office to gather his class gear, and I grabbed my backpack from Professor Stonewall's office. Then we walked to DNA class together.
I asked, “So are you really going to look into the study group course or lab work?”
“Yes, I am. I'll setup a meeting with the head of genetics, Dr. Dehart this afternoon as soon as possible.”
We arrived at class, and sure enough everyone had spread out as usual. I sighed. There was no classroom behind this one, so I couldn't try that trick.
I couldn't avoid sounding depressed. “I'll sit out here.”
He squeezed my shoulder and said, “I'm sorry. Would you like a chair from the room at least?”
“No, thank you. It doesn't seem to bother me to sit for a long time. Probably the healing preventing soreness in the muscle or something.”
“I'll see you after class, or on Wednesday before class then. It'll take a few days to get the course passed through, even if everyone is excited about it up through the Dean level.”
“Okay, thanks for that.”
“No, thank you. It's an exciting prospect.”
He walked into the classroom then, and I walked around until I received his and a few student's mindviews, then sat down along the wall and pulled out my materials. The class didn't go badly, in fact. Keeping the professor in a mindview allowed me to gain the material directly from the source, while still seeing the whiteboard and projector.
With the mindview of Professor Gently, at the end of class I was able to dig into a few of the topics he had been talking about, but didn't actually give all the details on in class. I was still writing notes when the swarm of mindviews and mental chatter clouded my vision and hearing.
Then, I heard Professor Gently say, “Most students are finished taking notes by the time I'm done talking, Stephanie.”
I replied, “I pulled a little more info from you that you didn't mention in class. Sorry, but you didn't cover everything in full depth.” I grinned and looked up to see both Professor Gently and Megan standing there.
She said, “Hi Steph. What are you talking about? You just missed class.”
Doh. “I, ah, listened from out here. I'm still having problems in groups that large.”
Professor Gently said, “Well, I'm glad you found it worth more attention.” He thought it was somewhat disturbing to just 'pull more information' about something from someone though.
I replied to his unvoiced question, “But wouldn't you have, if you could have in school? Why do worse than possible only because some of the lesson isn't taught?”
He sighed, “True, true. I probably would have as well. It's just a little unnerving thinking that someone can do that. Listen, I need to catch Dr. Dehart before he runs off to a late lunch or some such, you two have a good afternoon.” He rushed off.
Megan looked at my oddly. “So ... what was that? I feel like I just missed part of a conversation.”
“You kind of did. We talked before class along with Professor Stonewall about my problem with classrooms now.”
“Uh huh. Yeah. And what did they say?”
“They are okay with me sitting outside the classroom and taking notes so long as it doesn't affect my exams or papers.” Yeah, yeah, I'm on a roll! Who needs a stinky old writing team to give me creative ideas?
“Well, that sounds kind of bull. Not that they'd mind if you scored well and turned in papers, but just not sitting in the classroom? Sounds odd to me.”
“I know, I know. Can I not get the first degree for this? Please?”
“All right, fine. I skipped lunch, want to do a mid-afternoon lunch?”
I nodded, finished packing up my books and notepad and we headed toward the cafeteria. My steps slowed as I realized where our next stop would be. “Oh, no.”
“What now?”
“I can't go back in the cafeteria at lunch; it was horrible even at breakfast time.”
“Are you serious? We always stop there before going to our study group.”
I started walking again, though I believe my heart rate had doubled. “Okay, how about this idea. Can I give you money to get me a large sandwich and water, and we eat in one of the alcoves down the hall? I'm famished; I don't think I can skip lunch.”
“Yeah, I will. You know, if you weren't my friend I'd be really pissed off at you right now.”
“I appreciate that. Some things are really hard on me right now. I need all the friends I can get.” I hugged her.
After the hug, her thoughts locked onto wondering if I was trying a new herbal supplement that caused the scent. She noted that my breath even smelled that way, and that could only happen by something internal to the body, unless I was strange enough to gargle perfume.
I stayed outside the cafeteria, while Megan went inside. Mindviews from passerby appeared and disappeared quickly. Megan finally bought our lunches and came back out. We moved a few corridors away to a hallway with study areas on each side that wasn’t busy with students.
She said, “Some people are mentioning in there that a super flew in and out of campus a few times today. Pretty exciting, huh?”
“Yeah, what do you suppose he was here for?” Claiming I saw Bigfoot wouldn't hurt either….
“Dunno. Do you think he might be working with the genetics people? They said the super was headed that way.”
I kept my eyes on my food. “I ... suppose that's possible. Maybe we'll have a guest speaker or something.”
“Wow, that's a really cool idea! Oh, we need to swing by a copier if you want direct copies of my notes from the short Bio class this morning. Otherwise, you can borrow my notebook.”
“I saw enough from outside class, I think. Like you said, there wasn't much to lose out on.”
“So, tell me where you had your hair done. I've never seen gold like this as a color before.”
Hmm, I think I'll just stick with the actual places I go, and hope she doesn't try it. “I go to Lady K's.”
“You aren't too excited to talk about this, are you?”
“Not really.”
“No, that's not it.” How depressing to not be able to chat with a girlfriend about normal things. I love the new hair color and style! If I mention much about it, it might give away what happened. There's no good story for the eyes, you have to order contacts. They don't exactly have colored ones in stock for all prescriptions, I’d think. Even the scent, if I knew of a brand, I could jabber about it, but nooo....
It turned out to be a boring meal. She kept thinking about prying into my problem or the changes, and yet had gotten such lackluster responses that she stopped asking. I was depressed about being unable to talk about things without everyone at school knowing I'm a super.
We marched toward the library to meet with the study group when my phone rang.
I answered, “Hello?”
Lance said, “Hi Steph, I’ve got the location. They just brought some people in. I think we should hit this place during the day, it’s already been a day and a half since they captured the mutants.”
“You want to do it now?”
“Ideally, yes. By the way, Rael replaced his cell phone over lunch; he’s on his way here.”
“Where’s here?”
“Ah, the corner of Commons and Stone streets. There are a bunch of warehouses in a huge facility. They are numbered, just fly in and look for my yellow and red on the rooftop of one of them.”
“It’s an emergency?”
“What do you think? They have a bunch of innocent victims and want to force others to become cannibals. That’s not cool.”
“I’ll be there as soon as possible.”
“Great. We’ll be waiting.”
I looked at Megan, “I have to go. Will you apologize to the study group for me?”
She replied, “Sure.” From the perfectly centered mindview of my face during the entire phone call I knew she’d been watching me, studying me to try and figure out what was going on.
“Listen, I’m really, really sorry I’ve been out of it this morning. Thank you for being here for me.”
She brightened up a little. “It’s what friends are for. I still think you are holding out on me though.” She pouted at me to make me feel guiltier.
“I … yeah. Hopefully I’ll figure out a way to talk about it and explain things to you soon.” I hugged her, kissed her on the cheek and ran to the nearest exit.
Chapter 36 – More Food
Third Person Perspective
