"Right this way, Miss Dancler," said Mr. Langley as he ushered men into a tall, brown building.

He was a nice looking young man with short brown hair, wearing an Air Force uniform. He was a bit clumsy for my taste, tripping and stumbling every other step he took. Now I would not dare blame him in the uncomfortable shoes he wore.

We marched through the building, him nodding to a few people and muttering various names as they stared at us. Feeling uncomfortable, I put on my sunglasses.

After we walked into an elevator, he turned to me and shyly smiled at me.

"Are you the girl from-"

"Yes, yes I am," I said, cutting him off. I didn't want to be rude, but my patience was waring thin. I did not need to deal with another one of them on a day such as this.

He quickly whispered and apology and stared down at the floor.

A few floors and awkward glances later, we arrived to a dimly lit hallway and eventually to a small, windowless room.

"Captain Carter will be joining you shortly," he said as if he was the maître d' and I was meeting this "Captain Carter" character for brunch.

After he quietly shut the door, I started to look around. The room was quite small and brightly lit, with a square table sitting right in the middle. Well, it was a little off-I quickly fixed it. There was a mirror hanging on the right wall. I had enough common sense to tell that it was probably a two-way mirror from the way it was set into the wall. But I have been known to be wrong.

I pretended not to notice, acting like I was looking at myself, nonchalantly bumping the mirror pretending to adjust my sunglasses. There was a hollow sound. So I was right. The only question was why they had a two way mirror here. Then I started to actually look at myself.

My hair, long and dark. Only two inches above my elbows. Very thick and very curly to the point where it looks like I had a perm. Then there is my paler than pale skin. I am as pale as I was when I was born and never am able to forget the fact at makeup counters. I was never able to tan and I always stuck out in a crowd. If it wasn't my hair it was my skin. And if it wasn't my skin, it was my eyes. Everyone from where I lived looks so dark and leathery from hours of tanning at the beach with their strait-as-a-stick blonde (or blonde hi-lighted) hair. Studying myself, I got caught up in the past...

And then the door opened awakening me from my memories.

In walked a tall woman, about 5'9, with blonde hair so short it was almost in a pixi cut. She had beautiful brown eyes that smiled at me as she walked in. She held her head high and stood up strait, demanding respect. I liked her instantly, despite the blonde hair.

"Captain Carter, I presume," I said holding my hand out.

She smiled as she shook my hand, "Yes, you are Christine Dancler, correct?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Please, take a seat." she said, giving me a strange look. I was used to it; most people are not used to polite manners, especially coming from a young person.

So we sat down, me in a rusty old school chair, her in a relatively rusty fold out one. She placed a thick manilla folder in the middle of the table.

"So they tell me that your a pretty smart girl."

"I suppose," I answered carefully.

"Yes, well, here in this report, it says you have an IQ of 230."

"Yes... and?"

"And, it is the highest ever recorded," She exclaimed.

"Well what are you going to do? Call Guinness Book of World Records on me," I said sarcastically, but only half heartedly.

She gave me a small laugh and then sighed. "No, what we are going to do is, to put it simply, put you to work. It says here that your IQ went up every time they took the test-"

"I'm sorry, but I'm still not seeing the point here," I interrupted.

"The newly-elected President believes that if your IQ is going up in a classroom that is far bellow your intelligence level, that it would increase even more if we put you somewhere you could actually learn and work. At the same time."

My eyebrows shot up almost to my scalp. The newly-elected President...

"This also says that you are skilled in self defense."

"My father taught me quite well," I said, my eyes tightening, swallowing a lump in my throat.

"And you are multilingual?"

"Yes."

"How many?"

"Sixteen. Seventeen if you include Sign Language. Some people don't is all..." I said my voice drifting off.

She tried not to act surprised. Not a very good actress I see. "Would you give me a list?"

"Sure. Let me think... English, of course, Spanish, Latin, French, Russian, Portuguese," I started. "German, Chinese, Japanese, Hebrew, Italian, Greek, Korean, Dutch, Vietnamese, and Bulgarian."

"That is quite impressive. How did you learn them all?"

"Rosetta Stone," I said sarcastically. The truth was that I had gone to many local classes and tutors to try to learn as many languages as I could. Then I would try to make friends form other different countries where that was their native language to practice the language and accent. It was a fairly good system.

We didn't speak for a minute.

"You don't sound like such a genius," she said suddenly.

"I water it down," I say, Carter gave me a look as if asking for an explanation. "My vocabulary, I mean."

She gave me a sympathetic look.

"How-how old are you sweetie?" She asked quietly, fingering the bottom corner of her thick folder.

"Fourteen," I murmured.

She sighed, gazing at me while slightly shaking her head back and forth. Many people thought I looked older than I was so it came as no surprise to me at her being caught off guard. "Well Christine... we have a job for you, if you want it."

"Sure."

"Sure? Just like that? You don't need any time to think it over? Don't need to make any calls? You are not even the least bit curious as to what it is? Just sure?"

"Well, there is one thing."

"What?"

"I prefer 'Chris'. 'Christine' is a tad too formal for my taste."

She laughed. "Well then. You have to call me Sam. I hate all of the formalities."

We laughed together. "Well then, we need to get on a plane," she said after a moment of silence.

"To where? I'm not letting you guys drag me around again. I don't even know where I am now. Give me some perspective here. Please."

"Finally, a question about your future. Don't worry, I won't let that happen to you again," She smiled at me warmly and paused for a moment "Right now we are in Washington, DC and we are headed for Colorado Springs, Colorado."