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Out of the West
Chapter 7-Journeyman's Journey
Leo undid his seatbelt as the Aer Lingus 747 settled into its flight path to JFK airport. He wasn't sure if he had to get off and reboard there, but with over three hours to go he felt that either he'd get a needed chance to stretch his legs, or he'd be ready for a nap. Win-win. He decided to spend the time until then writing to Rosalie Martin. He'd somehow ended up as her Guide to the World of Mutant Marvels after the recruiting team had blown her initial pick-up.
He had been coming back from another reconnaissance in Massachusetts when he met her. A team of two 2nd generation field men had been recalled before they did anything even more stupid. They had been supposed to bring in one of the increasingly rare young 1st generation emergents. Strong Hiers and Spieks they had gone after an 11 year old girl in East St. Louis, and had managed to spook her badly enough to have her run home and have her mother pick up the family shotgun and threaten to blow away anyone who broke through the door. They had called for Teek backup, and to make sure the local police were neutralized before they broke in and showed her who was boss. Cooler heads prevailed and they were recalled. Leo had been hanging out at the HQ between planes and looked through the mission statement lying on the desk. Listening to the garbled excuse for a debriefing He just began to shake his head in bewilderment. Were these supposed to be the older and wiser heads he was going to be learning from?
His movements had caught the attention of the disgruntled recruiters, who started to come down on him. As Hiers they were more than a little uneasy with him anyway, anyone that they couldn't mind-read put them past on-edge. And he had just found out that he was officially the new record holder in Shell. So it quickly became: "If you're so damn smart why don't you do it?" Which he agreed to do, if they extended his official mission time, and made his lodging and travel arrangement modifications.
The next day he slowly approached Rosalie as she solitarily swung back and forth at her local playground. He was probably the only Caucasian within a half-mile, except for recruiters back in the limo watching him with binoculars and wishing him the worst of luck. He was also being observed by all the rest of the kids around, but none of them moved to cut him off as he approached the girl. She had been acting odd lately, and was building up a reputation for being "touched".
Leo stopped about ten feet away from her, just outside her personal space. She had stopped swinging and had her feet firmly on the ground, ready to dash off if he looked threatening. He reached in his pocket and took out a quarter, and asked, "Heads or tails?" She made no sound.
He flipped it up into the air and asked again, "Heads or tails?" He kept the coin up in the air and flipping around for several seconds, then continued: "If you want I can do edge too." Her eyes looked from him, to the coin, then around the playground, where everyone was carefully not looking at what might be happening to The Odd Girl.
She looked at him, her eyes squinted a little as she tried to hear or feel the odd, hungry thoughts those other strangers had been sending her the other day. There was only quiet. Just an older boy with a little smile standing nearby and keeping a coin tumbling in the air and never falling. She said, "Heads." The coin flew the ten feet forward into her hand, landing heads side up in her palm.
"Mind if I sit and talk a while?" Leo asked, gesturing to the next empty seat on the swing set. She gave a little nod. He went over and sat, turned his head a little toward her and introduced himself: name, and age and what he did and what he was. She took it in silently. He liked that, he couldn't read a single thought in her head, of course, but she listened… smart, the way Liz would have. She was neat and clean, in a cheap but freshly ironed dress, her family were upward strivers.
He pulled out a small notebook and looked at her, asking without words if he could use it. She gave a little nod yes. He started asking the basic questions; what could she do, when did these things start, how was her family taking it, did it affect her at school. Things like that. Her answers were short, and given in a soft voice. Leo got a picture of how things were very quickly. Within the last three months she had started to feel odd around certain people, then she had started to hear fragments of their thoughts. When she played board games with her younger sisters she had started to get the dice rolls to land her playing pieces where she wanted, every time. Her parents were getting scared, but trying not to reject her. School had become harder. It was like being in a tunnel with a thousand little echoes in her head to confuse her. She wasn't sure if she had begun avoiding her friends, or they had been avoiding her.
Then those men had come looking for her. She had learned at school what to do if strangers in cars started to follow you. Catching their feelings, she had felt like a rabbit being stalked by a pair of foxes. And like a smart little rabbit had run for her safe place.
Last night she had heard her folks talking, after she was supposed to be asleep. Was she crazy? What she said sounded like she was. But there had been men trying to follow her into their home. It had gone around and around, without any solutions to what was happening to their little girl coming up. So today she had gone out to the playground, in open sight to accept whatever hazards there were, rather than risk her parents and little sisters. Because she had heard, somehow, through the closed door that those men had been trying to break in and take her away, no matter what her parents said.
Leo had at least a rough idea of her abilities. Sensitive Hier (with very sensitive emotion sensing) with at least a passable Teek. If she joined AGER there would be a real evaluation, and training to deal with at least some of the problems of stray thought reading. Now he had to close the deal, and as far as he was concerned that meant it was Time to Meet the Parents.
A polite request got him invited to her home. Her mother was back from her job, the younger children were at the kitchen table doing homework. The father would be home soon from his second job; providing for a family and paying a mortgage demand three salaries from the two parents. Mrs. Nancy Martin was trying desperately to be polite, while looking at him like he was a two headed freak. Leo took it calmly (sometimes, when he thought about things, he had almost the same questions about himself, and all the other AGER people), and talked about school back home, and how he had been forced off the baseball team. Too much sick and away time, too many missed practices and games. He held off of the heart of Rosalie's situation until the father would be home. Meanwhile Mrs. Martin made good lemonade, and slowly calmed down. At six the children got their dinner, and the small ones, yawning, stayed up till Daddy got home.
When Allard Martin did get home he was surprised at his guest, but Leo just stayed friendly and said that he should have dinner before anything was discussed. Leo tried to beg off being fed, and said that he was didn't want to impose, but the iron laws of hospitality meant that he ended up enjoying meatloaf , potatoes and string beans with them. The small ones were put to bed, and then they got down to business: Mr. and Mrs. Martin, Rosalie and Leo.
First he showed them reliable Teek (all of Rosalie's abilities where still erratic) and Pyro. Showing his credentials so to speak. Then the whole story: the Project, the Bombs, the first few children with their strange powers, their decisions on how to handle things and not become the tool of self-interested governments or the victims of witch hunts. How Rosalie was unusual being a 1st generation born so long after the original events that had started things off. How if she signed on with AGER she would be given training, scholarships for education and the like. And also he told them of the restrictions, the duties and obligations. And how going to the general public and media would mean the destruction of their credibility and pretty much the ruining of their lives. He hadn't really meant to go there, but they were nice people and his honesty carried him away. It was a good thing they were smart enough to realize the reasons behind things, and not panic before there was any need to.
In the end the three had agreed that Rosalie needed the training and protection AGER could give her. Her parents were just glad that their girl wasn't going insane, was special (in a good sense) and would, if she played her cards right, have a better shot at living up to her potential than they would have been able to give her before.
Leo had sorta/kinda mentioned that he would do what he could for her. No real promises, just a suggestion, a hint maybe. So after he got the local recruiting supervisor in to talk with them Leo started to get pushy about having certain expenses Rosalie would be having covered by the organization. Then he started suggesting scholarships for enhanced regular education. At which point the supervisor called up the office and got Leo on the next plane out. Leo didn't mind, he had much better contacts and knew far more people to annoy back at Los Alamos.
For the next two weeks, every moment he wasn't at school, asleep or training he was at AGER headquarters being the most polite pain in the ass he knew how to be and cornering people in Field Operations and Recruitment talking about the many advantages of setting up Rosalie Martin with a scholarship and living expenses . After all she was living in a place with substandard schools; a poor education could only harm her career in AGER. And since she had two younger sisters, and abilities ran in families getting on the good side of her parents couldn't hurt. And on and on until there was some anonymous decision that the best way to shut Leo up and stop his memos and proposals was just to give in. It wasn't much money in the overall scheme of things, and an annoyingly polite pain in the ass is the worst type, especially a kid. You want to, but can't, justify screaming at him to just let it go, he's being so nice.
Aside from allowing Mr. Martin to drop his part-time job (and "provide needed positive parental role modeling for the children") the scholarship and allowances had made Leo, in Rosalie's opinion, a cross between the Lone Ranger, Santa Claus and Albert Einstein. So she wrote to him at least weekly about her new school, making new friends (knowing that she wasn't going insane or being possessed by spirits had made a very definite improvement in her social life), and with questions about life, some of which he actually knew the answers to.
As he finished his reply to his last letter he made sure to put in that he would be out of the country for a while, and that she shouldn't expect any communications from him till he contacted her. He knew that she was smart enough to get an idea of what that meant. He didn't want to get her nervous or anything, but that way she wouldn't think a lack of replies meant the Lone Ranger, Santa Claus and Albert E. had all dropped her as a friend.
At JFK there was an hour layover before the flight continued on to Shannon. Leo got off, posted his letter, and hunted up a cup of coffee and Danish pastry at the lone coffee stall open at that hour. Both were stale. He walked quickly up and down the concourse until the boarding notice was given. Back aboard the plane he checked his papers: He was Leo Gold again, as he had been back at Salem. This time he was 19 years old (that erased a lot of potential legal problems, good thing the papers included a faked International driver's license), had a British Rail Pass, credit card and travelers checks for 1,000 pounds. He was carrying nothing a young American wouldn't ordinarily bring on his vacation, including a short list of names and telephone numbers to look up as family friends while he was over there. There were no secret weapons, hidden spy cameras or false bottoms to be discovered in his luggage or toilet accessories. He was officially young, innocent and clueless. He wondered if he really was.
At Shannon International there was an air of shabby over-expansion. The terminal was new and big, but there was a few too many overfilled trashcans, a few too many cracked windows at the duty-free shops. There wasn't much of a crowd at the baggage carrousel when he picked up his overstuffed duffle bag.
A short bus trip took him into the heart of Limerick City, and then a short walk took him to the small hotel he had a reservation at. Checking in was both quick and a lot more personal than he was used to back in the States. After dropping off his bag and camera in his room he wandered out into the town to the pre-arranged meeting in the restaurant. He identified the man he was to meet, gave a slight nod, and got a table. He ordered the Sheppard's Pie. There were no coded meanings, he just had always wanted to try the Sheppard's Pie at some restaurant. He drank tea with it. The boozers at the bar gave no outright laughter, just a few smirks at his lack of "manliness". When he was done he exchanged one of the Travelers checks for cash to pay for the meal and left a generous tip. It was early afternoon and slightly overcast. He followed his instructions and went to a small park and sat down on an isolated and empty bench. The man from the restaurant sat down beside him.
"Mr. Gold, I presume?"
"Call me Leo."
"Could we work in a bit more super-secret spy talk?"
"Funny hats, brooms?"
"We'll be seeing enough Funny hats, soon enough. To be candid, you're a bit younger than I had been expecting."
"Let's not say young, let's just say expendable."
"Not the best news entirely, but all of piece with recent events."
Leo looked around, and then asked: "Perhaps less witty dialog and more… precise briefing, Mr.
Quiller?"
Quiller became serious, "Things have gone quite pear shaped in the last week. We've held off sending anything until you arrived as we have been re-establishing lines of communication. Everything should be in place within the week, but until then I'd be cautious about attempting any secure communications."
"Whoa!" Leo said, while doing a mental evaluation of his prepared secondary series of dead drops and blind contacts. They should still all be all right, but he would leave indicators that the next higher level of tracing decontamination should be applied. "Funny hats?"
"We think Funny hats have an in, a big one somewhere. Last week a memo came down from high up in MI5, endorsed by the PM, to turn over all our files on Operation Ambrosia to a special unit. Bunch of odd ducks came in within an hour and picked them up, purged the files completely. Then a memo came down for a debriefing that afternoon. Twenty three operatives went in and two hours later twenty three came out. Luckily half of the AGER workers, myself included, had been only unofficially keeping up with things. Everyone, AGER or not, who went to the debriefing came out sure that the whole business had been something to do with wrapping up the Cold War in some way. The Bolshies are now officially gone, and we can all go back to dealing with industrial espionage and other nefarious French affairs.
"Most contagious case of epidemic amnesia and shared hallucination I can remember in twenty years in the Trade. Men, emergent and prole, that had minds and wills hard as rocks remember working for six months on something no one was doing at all. If my Field Team hadn't been keeping duplicates of the most essential things we'd be back where we were when Al came over to give me the head's up last year. Only good part is nobody seems to have been properly interrogated, Funny hats seem to have talent up the arse, and thoroughness nowhere. Anyway, it's been a week now, no call ins for a special "meeting", and no one within 50 meters has been trailing any of us that still have our memories right side up."
"Unless the tail was a Shell." Leo commented.
A little awkwardly Quiller agreed: "Yes, yes, that is where you come in after all, isn't it? There is a bit of touchiness with so much of the organization and support based over your side of the water, you know, I'm not sure if a wet behind the ears child is exactly going to make it look like we are being taken seriously. I do hope that you manage to make us confident with having the central office over there."
"But the advantage of my incompetence is that when things go belly up you'll be able to say it was all the Yank's fault, if only you had been in charge everything would have run sweet. Oops, I've been assigned to you, you are in charge! Better not let anything happen to the enfant terrible or my little sister will get after you."
"Merciless, is she?"
"Totally."
"Forewarned is fore-terrified." Quiller replied. He hadn't seen any confusion or tension on Gold's face. He was relaxed and cool; he might do. Quiller himself had been doing unpleasant things in a very successful manner when only a year or so older than this one. The only thing to do was to soldier on. AGER was too new, the number of those it could put into the field too few for anything but actual competence to matter. "Get a stateroom on the ferry over tomorrow. You'll get further instructions then. There's a place in London we think may be a good starter location to examine. Actually got it out of a dead file that was supposed to have been purged over ten years ago, events looking quite like our latest fiasco. Anyway we'll see if your closed mindedness will be able to handle 12 Grimmauld Place. So far none of ours has been able to."
Author's Note:
There are few new 1st generations coming to AGERs attention as the original programs with their sloppy safety protocols have long since been terminated. The first string of nuclear explosives, using the original adulterated bomb components (the exact nature of the adulterations being lost to time and inaccurate measurements) is also long in the past. The true trigger for the 1st generation is now lost. Each new one expands the genetic base, providing guarantees against inbreeding.
Rosalie Martin's paternal grandfather had worked on a construction job at the Chicago University Metallurgical Laboratory during the period when the first atomic reactor was being set up and test runs were being done. Her maternal grandfather had done maintenance at Oak Ridge during the period when separation of radioactive isotopes for the Manhattan Project was being done. Her maternal grandmother had been in domestic service at Hanford, Washington with an engineer working at the plutonium enrichment facility there. Some of these ancestors must have been exposed to the needed radioactivity, when these family lines came together a new emergent was born.
