MATTHEW
Matthew took a deep breath as he approached the dance studio. For the first time ever, he didn't want to go in. But he had to. He took strength from the fact that Eleni waited inside.
Yesterday, after being released from the hospital, they had danced privately under Madam P's compassionate eye. Matthew suspected the teacher had done that on purpose and he had been surprised by his relief when she let him know the agenda. At the end of the day, however, she had also been clear that the next day, today, he would need to be dancing with the rest of the cast.
That thought was what made him grit his teeth and steel himself as he entered.
No one greeted him. They turned away as he came near or glared at him as if he had killed a member of their family. Silence descended over a cluster of dancers as he approached.
Anders, another of the male leads, split off as if by coincidence as Matthew passed by.
"Hey, man, you know it was just for fun, right? It's not like you didn't want it, anyway." Matthew said nothing and bore the man's presence as they both went to the changing room. There, Matthew grabbed his practice gear and left to go change in the privacy of the bathroom.
He didn't know why Jenna had come out with the declaration about drugging him, but their peers seemed to hold him personally responsible for her admission. So far as he could tell, it hadn't put her out of academic school, or affected her life in any way that he knew save that she was no longer at the Pietrovich School of Dance. Nonetheless, he felt his peers' disapproval keenly.
"Ah, Matthew, there you are. Finally. Come on, let's get started." The instructor, Master Trenaw, noticed him immediately as he entered the large dance studio. Matthew scanned the room and was relieved to see Eleni break off from the group of swan dancers who were clustered around Madam P. Matthew realized that meant they wouldn't be working together today and suppressed a spike of anxiety and disappointment.
"Hi there," she said. Seeing her smile took the edge off the coldness inside him.
"Hi there," Matthew murmured in reply as he bent to kiss his girlfriend, and for a moment everything was ok.
They positioned themselves between the two groups so that they could hear both sets of instructions. He kept his arm around Eleni as they stood and listened.
"And you, Matthew, will be working with the princesses in studio 4b. 30 minutes with each, and all of you be back in here in an hour and a half to do a dry run of the scene." Matthew went cold again.
Eleni must have sensed his reaction through the bond, because concern echoed back from her. She turned in his arms.
"Ask to practice in here, or on the stage," she said softly. He just looked down at her, understanding the wisdom of what she said, but reluctant to do anything that might make a scene.
Looking up into his eyes, she seemed to understand. She squeezed his arms.
"Let me see what I can do." She moved away from him to speak to Madam P. The instructor nodded briskly to Eleni's words and made her way over to her colleague.
Fifteen minutes later Matthew was dancing with one of the princesses in the large tri-sected studio where the swans were also rehearsing. It was bearable, and Matthew found he could get through the afternoon.
That night, he stayed for dinner. Madam P inquired after his well-being, but otherwise was quieter than usual. Adam hadn't stayed; he and Matthew had barely spoken since the hospital, save for Adam asking if Matthew wanted to pursue an investigation. Matthew had responded that he just wanted to put it all behind him.
After dinner, when he and Eleni were ensconced on the couch, he finally felt he could relax and breath for the first time that day.
"What did they do?" she asked quietly. He noticed she didn't ask how he was doing, as Madam P and Adam did. He found it a relief.
"Not much. I was only told I wanted it 5 times. Could have been worse." He tried to laugh humorously, but it came out morose. Eleni caught his face in her hands and brought it to hers, resting their foreheads together. For a long moment they were silent.
"You are the only one who knows who you are and what you want, and sometimes you won't even know that. And that is ok."
Matthew took the words in passively. They did nothing for him in the moment. Her next words, however, did.
"Anyway, eff them." A flare of anger from deep inside her echoed within him. He knew distantly that she was getting pranked again, though she didn't speak of it and he found he didn't have the bandwidth to ask. She had been tripped yesterday at the dance school, there was little doubt as to whether it had been an accident.
Not wanting to talk about any of it anymore, he moved his face forward and kissed her.
A few minutes later they were just sitting and holding each other. Eleni's head was rested on his shoulder. They didn't talk much. They didn't do much of anything. Matthew found he was fine with that. He focused instead on the fact that Eleni was there and they were together. Mentally, he found himself willing her to stay. In his anxiety and his desire to not think of anything else, he spent the rest of the time trying to figure out why he was doing that.
The days slowly became easier. At his university classes, the whispered taunts dropped off and people settled on ignoring him. He found he could tolerate that, too: all he needed was the degree. He didn't need to make friends.
At the dance school, he focused on the performance, and making up the time he had lost over the past few weeks. The teachers appreciated his renewed commitment, though all but Madam P were grudging in showing it. Often a compliment about his performance was given hand in hand with a criticism. The latter was as often as not unrelated to ballet.
The third day back, Adam stayed at Madam P's for dinner. Matthew found himself hoping that his father was relaxing a bit, but it turned out the man had come with a purpose.
"Natalya, what is happening? Madelyn and I don't like being kept in the dark. The other school masters are dropping all sorts of nasty hints with their students." Matthew looked away at Adam's tense comment, wishing for a non-controversial topic. Then Eleni responded before Madam P could.
"This is about me, isn't it?" Matthew's spirits fell even further. There were rumors that the other schools were going to boycott the ballet due to Eleni dancing the lead role. In spite of the fact that the other teachers had voluntarily selected her as the understudy.
Madam P sighed.
"Yes. They didn't think this scenario was possible. Or thought that if it did happen, it would be easy to push you aside. Trenaw and Cotting have each been training their best ballerina on the part of Odette and Odile."
"The bastards," Matthew hissed. Madam P looked at him, nodding, then smirked, though it was a weak thing.
"They have been fighting with each other about which ballerina will take the role, and that bought me some time." She shifted her gaze to Adam. "That is why I hadn't spoken with you and Madelyn. I wasn't sure I had any ground upon which to stand. But this joint performance has been a tradition for over a century, and when it was established there was a set of rules drawn up as well." Madam P reached over to take Eleni's hand and held it firmly. "Legally, there is no way they can oust you."
Eleni nodded, and Matthew was surprised to feel a sharp flare of desire-mixed-with-fear that cut painfully through the bond and registered just how badly she wanted the role. Staring at his girlfriend, he heard Madam P's brittle words only distantly.
"But, 'legal' can be open to more interpretation than we care to admit. I don't wish to go down that route, and neither in truth do my colleagues. I have decided to offer them a compromise to sweeten the deal, and avoid legal proceedings, and allow them to focus on what I believe matters in the short term. They will no doubt see it as something to suffer through, but what I have offered makes the long term far more attractive for them. They are political beings, as am I. I think they will take it."
Adam's eyes narrowed. "Natalya, what are you planning?"
"It is my decision to make. That is the end of it." Her tone was uncharacteristically curt. She met and held Adam's eyes for a tense moment, then deliberately bent back to her dinner. The man's attempts to pursue the topic further failed as Madam P's patience was clearly spent. Silence descended over the table.
Matthew found himself glancing at Eleni throughout the remainder of the quiet meal. Feelings lapped out from her, exacerbated, he thought, by the conversation that had just happened. And yet, the feelings of dread and revulsion that had emerged at the mention of Madam P's still mysterious actions seemed a bit extreme for the situation.
When they finished cleaning up Eleni made to leave the kitchen.
"I'll be there in a minute," Matthew said as he wiped down the table. Adam and Madam P were standing by the sink drying dishes in a pregnant silence. When Matthew left the kitchen, he stepped to the right so that he was concealed from their view, and waited a minute, hoping to learn more.
"Adam," Madam P's voice was strained with a lingering edge of anger. "Please don't come for a while. The dance school is fine, but not here."
"Because of tonight?" came his terse reply. Then, after a pause, "Or is it something else?" The anger had given way to bitter resignation.
"It's bringing back memories. I forgave you, and I do not withdraw that, but I…I find I need some space to mourn her again. It's not just what Jenna did. It's this entire situation." There was silence for a long moment.
"You forgave me for what I did…but you still hold me responsible for her loss."
"Adam, I didn't sa-!"
"Natalya, it's fine! It's nothing I don't do to myself." With that the man exited through the door off of the kitchen back towards the dance school.
Matthew slowly moved towards the living room, taking in this exchange though it didn't entirely make sense to him.
Eleni was sitting on the couch waiting.
"Did something happen?" she said, her brow wrinkling in concern. He started to shake his head, but then stopped the lie.
"Yes, but, it doesn't relate to us."
"Can you tell me about it? Did you figure out what Madam P is going to offer the other teachers?" He shook his head in the negative.
"No." He shrugged. "We'll find out eventually." He wasn't in a mood to parse out political maneuverings. Pulling Eleni close as he sat, he tucked her head under his chin and changed the topic. "The ballet. It's really important to you."
She pushed back so she could look into his face. Her expression was slightly incredulous.
"You're just realizing that now?" He laughed sheepishly.
"No, I knew, it's just…" he found it difficult to put words to what he had felt from her in the kitchen. He finally settled on desperation, though it made him uncomfortable. He identified that what struck him was the depth of that feeling within Eleni: for her desperation to run so deep…it was like she thought she'd never have another chance. "You know you deserve it," he murmured, trying to tease her feelings out verbally.
"I know." Her confidence was high. That wasn't part of her need.
"You are…clinging to it…?" he felt like he was stabbing in the dark with his words. He needed to confirm what he was struggling to understand about her emotional state, and he needed her participation.
Eleni was silent for a moment.
"It's my dream. To perform in a real ballet. To do it at least once." She looked down and away as she said this, and echoes of despondency, at odds with her statement, triggered anxiety in Matthew.
"You will! Many times. Elle, I don't think I've ever seen anyone as talented as you." She pushed her head back into the join between his shoulder and his neck as he said this. He pulled her close.
"I…that would be nice," she said quietly. There was disbelief behind the statement, and Matthew was suddenly overwhelmed by the feeling that Eleni's presence in his arms was transient. His anxiety flared, and he spoke fiercely, forcing the feeling away.
"This performance…this performance will be yours! And many more!" His girlfriend's head shifted against him in what he thought was a nod, but otherwise she remained quiet. He thought she might comment on his emotional state, but she didn't.
"Ours, you mean," she said when she finally spoke. Her arms went around him.
"Ours," he echoed, finding comfort in the deceptive thought that no one else on the stage mattered, so long as he and Eleni were dancing together.
Whatever negotiations Madam P was having with the other dance teachers, nothing came out about it over the next few days. Holday came and went and things started to fall into a routine for Matthew as he eased himself into living a life of ostracization.
"Hey Mattie, you doing ok?" As he turned to G, who was coming down the aisle in the auditorium the following Tuesday, Matthew hid the fact that that question, rife with tentacles of concern, was getting seriously annoying.
"Fine. Where's Bright?" G was alone.
"Their grandmother's sick again. It doesn't look good. She never really got better after the last one." G paused. "She is all Bright has."
"I'm sorry. I didn't realize that. Um…," he wasn't sure how to phrase the awkward question, but wanted to understand the situation, "they're a Proxy Birth, right?"
"Yes, but it's not what you are thinking. Their mother was involved. However, she also planned to use the program to keep them funded." G sighed. "The second baby changed in the womb. Neither one survived." Matthew winced in sympathy and pain.
Sometimes a fetus' mutant powers manifested during pregnancy. In the case of an odd skin color or a passive ability this was no issue. However, sometimes the change made the pregnancy unviable. Most of those babies were lost, and often, the mothers were, too. The Council of Barons were constantly testing new initiatives to reduce the pre-term death rate, as it was known, but reading between the lines of the news stories, it seemed to be increasing.
"I didn't realize…what'll they do if…?"
"They're going to move into the dorms."
"I can get them a job at the vineyard," he offered, though he felt vaguely uncomfortable about it.
"They have the Towers," G dismissed his suggestion. "And, hopefully the military will forget about them, and they can live a quiet life, pleasantly deprived of being poked and prodded and electrocuted." Matthew smiled weakly at G's joke.
"At some point they'll give up. Whatever you can do, it must be extremely passive."
"You're telling me! Like a super-human ability to store fat." The man slapped his girth as he said this, and they laughed together. "Elle seems back to her cheery self," G half-joked as he changed the topic. Matthew understood that he was referring to the distancing the man had picked up on during Matthew and Eleni's breakup. Matthew nodded.
"Yeah, though…"
"What?" G looked at him, his eyes sharp.
Matthew didn't know how to put what he had sensed into words and was hesitant to share something he had gleaned from the bond.
"I think she needs some more time to…get back to normal." That didn't seem quite right, either, but it was the best Matthew could do. "Hey, G, why don't you stay for dinner tonight?" he said making his own effort to redirect the conversation. As he asked it, Matthew wondered why he hadn't asked before.
"I've got an invitation to join the Rushman's back Down." G regularly shared meals with families in the Sewers.
"Well, next time plan to eat here," Matthew said.
"I will check my schedule," G replied, his attitude aloof, and Matthew chuckled as he turned away to go change.
Eleni entered the room a little while later, and she sought him out for a kiss before running off to rehearsal.
"Hi there," she whispered. "I missed you."
"Missed you, too," he murmured back, her face cupped in his hands. She smiled, a smile that told him she was genuinely happy to be there with him.
"We're staying late tonight, right?" she asked. He nodded in return the excitement that shone in her eyes reflected inside of him. Madam P had moved most of their solo practice to the evenings. She claimed it was because they needed intensive sessions to catch up, which was a believable excuse. Nonetheless, he suspected that it was more to give them privacy, which he appreciated, even if it cut into the limited down time he had with Eleni.
Their mutual excitement was dampened, however, by some news Madam P shared at the dinner table.
"Alicia has left." Matthew's former friend had been moved up to the role of a princess after another dancer had left. It wouldn't be hard to replace her, though it would mean time wasted so far, and extra time required to teach the new dancer. The real issue was that she was the 4th senior dancer to leave the production.
Matthew heard Eleni sigh next to him. He knew she felt responsible; they were leaving in protest to her being cast as Odette. He spoke purposefully.
"Well, she's opened up an opportunity for a junior dancer to shine."
"Precisely," Madam P said with a firm nod, "and I know exactly the person who will replace her. Tuli from Trenaw's school is quite talented. They are young, but I am glad to have this opportunity to let them take center stage." The young non-binary had stood out and was likely to have starring roles in the future.
In spite of Madam P's assertion, and the subsequent attempts to turn their conversation positive, the rest of the dinner, and the rehearsal that followed, were subdued.
The next day, about a week after the drugging, Matthew met Eleni outside of the Pryde school, and they walked to the dance studio together. He had managed to adjust most of his university courses to the morning and early afternoon, putting off a couple classes for a later semester. Even with that, he was only free early enough to walk with Eleni two days of the week.
Hands firmly clasped, they made their way, talking about their respective days.
"Frasier likes to remind me that I am going to fail every chance he gets. Never says it outright, of course, but it's things like, 'When you graduate from here…well, most of you…'" Eleni grimaced, but it was not without humor. Bitter humor.
"There's got to be a way around that. Some test you can take or something. Let's look into it."
Eleni made some non-committal noise, and Matthew let the matter drop in favor of another one.
"And…how are the pranks?"
"Same as the past few days." She peered up at Matthew. "Did you and Adam…?"
"No." Matthew replied. Eleni had asked them not to withhold any more wine from their customers. The pranks were not as prolific as before. Matthew suspected they were testing their limits. He was now grateful to Travis, as Eleni had mentioned that the young man walked with her in the halls when he could, holding the pranks at bay for at least that period of time. Eleni's top priority was avoiding injury, Matthew understood that now.
"We should brainstorm whether there is anything else we can do," he added. Eleni made another vague noise, and they lapsed into silence. Watching her out of the corner of his eye, he didn't press further. The topic had dampened her attitude, and emotional echoes that made Matthew anxious curled around her mental state. Suddenly, her presence by his side once again felt temporary, and he once again found himself mentally coaxing her to stay, to relax, to simply enjoy being with him.
"You're an idiot to be with that whore, Summers," a crude voice called out, shattering his illusory efforts.
Matthew's head snapped around to see a couple on a bench just outside of a small park dotted with potted plants. The woman who had spoken sat with her arm firmly around her girlfriend. They both looked at Eleni and Matthew with disgust.
Eleni looked forward again as if she had simply been taking in something odd, though Matthew felt the flicker of a reaction through the bond. They walked on.
"Why do they have on such atrocious necklaces?" she asked a minute later. Matthew sensed the question was a substitute for something else, but distractedly answered it at face value.
"One of them is collared."
"What? That's a collar?" The thick chokers had been finished in gold and a large jewel had sparkled at the front.
"Yeah. One of them must have an ability that either prevents her from living a normal life, like being on fire all the time, or one that threatens her existence." Or the existence of the Montagne. "Without the collar, they wouldn't be able to be together."
Eleni glanced at him sideways, and, uncomfortable, he felt the need to extrapolate.
"When there's a choice whether you wear a collar or not, it's an extremely personal decision. You are suppressing a natural, and extraordinary part of yourself. One of the women was showing solidarity for her partner in wearing a piece that matched, though it probably wasn't a real collar."
It was a frequent plot line for soap operas for one partner to ask the other to collar themselves for some contrived reason. In reality, it was a subject people avoided, as pity was the dominant emotion involved. Recalling how it had felt for Eleni to ask him to wear one, he knew he would never find those plot lines appealing again.
She glanced at him a couple more times as they walked but let the issue drop. He hoped it wouldn't come up again. He had hobbled his ability for her, and didn't regret that, but the thought of blocking off his telepathy all together continued to be repulsive.
When they reached the dance school, Cordelia greeted them at the entrance. They tried to ignore her as they entered, but it appeared she had been waiting for them because she addressed Matthew directly, a rare thing now.
"I thought she was like a grandmother to you. You are absolutely shameless, Summers."
When Matthew's mind connected that Cordelia was referring to Madam P, he stopped, ignoring Eleni's tug on his arm.
"What are you talking about?"
"Oh, you are going to act like you don't know? When you, or your bitch there, clearly put her up to it. Dancing is her life! I had issues with her taking in strays, but I will always admit that she is the master-of-dance in the Montagne. It is a travesty what you have driven her to do."
"Tell me, Cordelia," he said between clenched teeth.
"She won't, Matthew," Eleni said quietly, clearly wanting to leave the woman behind. "It gives her more pleasure this way."
An irritated look crossed Cordelia's face, and Matthew wondered if Eleni had made the comment on purpose.
"She's retiring after this performance. And not just from the annual show," Cordelia snapped, "from all of it. Madam P has promised to stop teaching dance after this spring. Madelyn Frost will be taking over starting in the summer."
Matthew felt like his body had turned to ice. Madam P was old, but not so old that she was on the verge of retirement. He knew from conversations that she had expected to teach for many more years to come, allowing time for Madelyn to establish herself further in the dance community. As things stood, many of their students would leave for other schools after Madam Pietrovich's departure.
Guilt tore through him, and he knew it wasn't all his. Eleni's face was turned away when he glanced at her, but he knew that for once her perfect mask would be broken. She was horrified by what Madam P had bartered away so that they could dance.
Matthew inadvertently shook his head as he corrected that thought: so she could dance. He didn't make that correction so that he could shift the blame. He made it to help himself understand the feeling of self-loathing that undercut Eleni's guilt through the bond.
Cordelia grinned viciously as she pushed open the door and entered the building ahead of them.
The dance school buzzed with the news that day, but while Master Trenaw and Mistress Cotting alternated between smug and frustrated, the general atmosphere was subdued, if talkative. This was particularly true for the students from the Pietrovich School of Dance. Like Cordelia they all understood just what was being lost in Madam P's retirement. The comments relating to Jenna shifted and Matthew counted no less than 8 times he was blamed for the entire situation. He guessed the number must be at least double for Eleni.
He didn't have an opportunity to ask her, however, as he and Adam went home for dinner that night. Madam P specifically asked him that he not stay, and to dissuade his father if Adam tried to come to dinner. She said she wanted to speak with Eleni about her decision. It appeared that one of the other teachers had let the news slip prematurely: Madam P had intended to tell Eleni in private prior to the announcement. Matthew thought Eleni might call him that night to talk about it, and sent a few messages to that effect, but she responded saying she just wanted to go to bed.
When they were finally together in the auditorium the next afternoon, he was again unable to talk to her as they were greeted by a surprise contingency from the DownMountain: G was back sooner than usual, and Hulio was with him. The large man's jaw clenched when he heard the news about Madam P, and he leaned over and whispered something to Eleni that Matthew didn't catch. The woman just shrugged and looked to the side in return. She was trying to be a blank slate of emotions, but guilt nonetheless was eroding its way through her wall of impassivity.
"Well, at least Hulio has some good news," the man said for everyone to hear as he pulled back. Matthew noticed concern in G's eyes as they lingered on Eleni, but the man quickly changed his mood to match the new topic.
"What's that?" Matthew said, though he doubted the news could lift anyone's spirits. He was wrong.
"Hulio's first single will be released next week. The album should be out in a month. Next stop, the Hellfire Club." G and the singer himself mimed clinking glasses with their pinkies held out to the side. While Eleni managed a delighted laugh and congratulated Hulio, Matthew was momentarily distracted as he noticed G wince and rub his arm as he withdrew it from the celebratory motion. Eleni's nudge on his own arm brought Matthew back to himself.
"That's great news, Hulio!" he said, heartily, reaching his hand out to clasp that of his friend. Hulio's excitement was written clear on his face. "I can't wait to hear it, man. Sure you can't give us a sneak preview?" Matthew goaded gently, persuaded to eagerness by the man's clear happiness. Hulio was adamant.
"You've got to do a debut right. I'm not leaking anything that might soften the blow," he said seriously. Matthew nodded, slightly disappointed.
"When are you guys coming Down? Scarlet wants proof that you are back together," G interjected.
"She could just read the tabloids," Eleni pointed out. The despicable publications were resorting to anything at all that could smear their relationship. G responded archly.
"Apparently, she has never trusted them as a source of fact." He rolled his eyes.
"She just wants to roast us," Matthew commented. G nodded, a knowledgeable look on his face as he spoke.
"Well, I don't know about the 'us' part, but she is looking for some entertainment." Now Matthew rolled his eyes.
"Well, it's not going to happen anytime soon," Eleni said, and Matthew found himself agreeing. They had next to no extra time in their current schedules. As if to punctuate that thought, Master Trenaw's irritated voice echoed from the front of the room.
"Eleni. Matthew! Why are you not changed?"
As they departed the group, the upbeat atmosphere G had created dissipated.
"Elle, what did Madam P say?" Matthew whispered, though he knew they only had a moment to talk and it might be pointless. Sure enough, Eleni only shrugged.
"You can probably guess: that's she's had her fill of running the dance school, that she believes in me and wants to give me this opportunity…" Her voice trailed off.
"She's right," Matthew replied, a fierce edge to his voice. Nonetheless, it failed to cut the dismal feeling of responsibility lurking at the other end of the bond, and he made no more headway by the time they reached the changing rooms.
His own frustration was only surpassed by his father's, and while Matthew didn't get more time to talk to Eleni that afternoon, he did keep an eye on the man and trailed behind him when Adam made for the office as soon as rehearsal ended. His efforts paid off, as Madam P was there.
"I could have helped you! There must have been another way."
This was being said, heatedly, by Adam when Matthew caught up. The man was just closing the door, however, and the words that followed were muted. Matthew stood to the side of a large window that filled one side of the office and tried to listen.
"…satisfied with... Please..." Madam P's voice was muffled to the point of incoherence. Matthew risked edging closer.
"No, I won't…won't let you….! ….too much. …..considered….will set Maddie back?" Matthew edged closer.
"Madelyn….Katyana's loss…-"
"What?! …not about Kat. Why…-?" Matthew was about to take another step when he realized that the sound had cut off. Then the door opened.
Adam glared at him from the few feet down the hall to the office door.
"It affects me, too!" he said fiercely before his father could dress him down. "And I want to be there for Eleni, and she's not exactly open about these things."
Madam P had come to the door, and a look of sympathy entered her face.
"He's right. Adam, let him in." Matthew thought he sensed a brush of relief from her as well but didn't dwell on it.
Adam was undeterred by the interruption and continued once the door was closed.
"Natalya, I just don't understand why you didn't come to me. I could have helped you. My lawyer could surely have given us some council. I—"
"Adam! You don't listen to me when I try to explain, you disparage of my use of legal council, and in doing so question my own intelligence! Why do you think I would share anything with someone who does such things to me?"
Adam finally fell silent. Matthew looked anywhere but his father and took advantage of the break in the argument.
"Madam P, I just want to know what you said to Eleni. Whatever you feel you can tell me, that is," he added the last part on by instinct and knew it was in reaction to his father's demands.
Madam P sighed.
"She is closed up like a clam, and no one know what she holds inside," the woman said, sadly.
"This causes her pain, too," Adam added pointedly, and Matthew cringed inwardly at the ill-advised comment.
"And it guarantees her dream," the older woman returned softly but sharply. She turned to Matthew and continued.
"I will tell you the same thing I told her, and I ask you to take these words to heart." With a deep breath, she spoke almost as if reciting. "I don't want you to feel responsible for my decision, or the treatment we are receiving because of it. I know that is easier said than done, but the truth is, this is an appropriate end to my career in dance."
Against his better judgement, Matthew found his mouth opening to object, but when he saw his father doing the same he kept his shut and reached out to grab the man before he could blunder again. Madam P paused, and watched them through this interaction, her eyes expectant and sharp.
"The truth is," Madam P finally continued, "after Katyana died, dancing changed for me. It was something I still loved, but I no longer found the inspiration in it that I once had." The teacher laughed dismissively and gave a small flourish with her hand to punctuate her next words. "I once felt that it could change the world, but now I know better."
"Madam P, that is not absurd," Matthew said, trying to counter the woman's bitterness, though he didn't know if he believed the words he said.
"No, no, it's not. I know. That emotion had its purpose. It made me a star. It created a bond between myself and my daughter." The teachers took another deep breath in and exhaled heavily. "She could still be performing at the Grand Theater, even now. She was exquisite, and her ambition matched my own. I didn't birth her, but she was my daughter, my match, in every way." Tears made the teacher's eyes glitter. Adam was now looking anywhere but Madam P. The teacher noticed.
"Adam, I do not say this to torment you. It is what I told Eleni and it is the truth." Matthew noted an edge of annoyance as she said this. "In the wake of Katyana's death, I took a step back and focused on the school, and that was enough. But with Eleni living with me now, it reminds me of the times with Katyana. I wish to grant Eleni this opportunity - and I refuse to believe it will be her last! -," this she interjected firmly, "but then, for a while, I want to focus on her. On our life together. As you said, Matthew, she holds so much in…it can't be good for her." Matthew's agreement took the form of a chill that passed over his shoulders at these words. "And it is not like I will completely cut dancing out of my life. It will always be a part of me. But it will no longer be the total sum of my days. There are other things that inspire me now." She smiled at Matthew here. "You can include yourself in that."
Finding it difficult to speak, Matthew went over and embraced the woman.
"Thank you, Madam P," he said as they parted, and that was enough.
In the meantime, Adam had finally calmed down. Somewhat.
"I understand. And I'm sorry I was so…presumptuous. It's just that…I can't stand this. Seeing you treated this way and giving so much up. Don't hold it against me for trying to find a better way."
Madam P nodded her understanding, though it was stiff.
"Adam, what is done is done. I simply want to move on and put everything I can into this performance." But the man wasn't ready to give up.
"And what about Maddie? Running this school was one of the few-" he glanced at Matthew, but then pushed on, "—the few highlights in her future. This is a significant set-back for her." Matthew's brow furrowed at that comment. Madelyn Frost had always seemed perfectly happy with her life.
"I did speak with her, I did not ignore the impact my decision would have on her future," Madam P replied, her tone short.
"Then why-?" Adam said, a tone of admonishment entering his voice.
"Didn't I speak with you?" Madam P finished, a terse smile on her lips. "This change impacts you far less than Madelyn: you will still teach here as much as you desire. Do you disagree?"
"Well, no, but—"
"Or is the problem that I did this without your permission?" Madam P shook her head with a sad bitterness. "Adam, I never realized just how little you think of me."
"What?! No! I don't! I-"
"Madelyn gave me her blessing, and that is all that matters." This response brooked no challenge.
"But-," Adam gaped for a moment, then tried a different tact. "You said it had something to do with Kat as well. For Madelyn, that is."
"Ah, so you were listening."
Adam looked to the side, and Matthew could feel the man swallowing his annoyance.
"I just want to understand this. It feels like the two of you are giving up."
Madam P considered Adam for a moment before she spoke.
"Ok, I will share it with you. But then this conversation is over, and you will leave." Her eyes flickered to Matthew. "Both of you, and I'd like another dinner alone with Eleni."
"OK," Adam agreed before Matthew could speak.
"Dad—," he started to object. He needed that time to talk to Eleni.
"Matthew, please respect my desire to have that time with her," Madam P interjected in a gentler tone than she had been using with his father, but nonetheless edged in warning.
Reluctantly, he nodded. "OK."
Madam P sighed and paused before starting.
"Madelyn never found another friend like my Katyana, and she has come to realize just what a treasure that friendship, so easy and open, and trusting," here the woman threw a look that was very much out-of-character for her at Adam. Adam clenched his jaw, but stayed silent, "was. And during the time when everyone was showing their true feelings towards Katyana, she watched from a distance, and, of course, was privy to what people said. She has admitted to me that she feels great guilt for not standing up for Katyana, for not reaching out and the fact that she wasn't there at her best friend's side still causes her hurt. Madelyn understands that this set back will mean a bit more work for her, but from what she saw then, and what she sees now, she also knows that she will never face the condemnation Eleni does every day. She knows life is multitudes easier for her and she will not lose that. She acknowledges that she has so much that someone in Eleni's position is likely to never have, and the price that she will pay is insignificant in light of that. For these reasons, she agreed, and it is a testament to her character that she did. Now, I ask that you don't repeat any of that. Others would twist it to make it seem that Madelyn is working against her own daughter, though Jenna is solely responsible for the damage she caused."
Here the woman stopped, and took a breath, holding the two men in her gaze.
"Of course."
"I won't say anything." Came their responses, and the dance teacher gave a curt nod.
"Good. Then leave."
The final words were said with acid, and Matthew found himself wishing for a moment that he hadn't followed his father. Nonetheless, he gave Madam P the space she so clearly desired.
Eleni took the news that he again wouldn't be at dinner easier than he would have liked.
"Tomorrow night, then," she said with a hint of relief. Matthew started to feel slightly offended, until he recognized that there was an echo of the same relief within himself.
In the deserted hallway, he pulled her close and rested their foreheads together.
"I'm here for you," he said. "I want to be here for you. I messed up with Madam P."
"Matthew, it's ok."
"I'm going to call you later." Eleni wasn't much for texting, but he wasn't going to let another night go by without a connection.
"Ok, but I don't want to talk about all this stuff. It's everywhere. I want a break."
Matthew nodded, dismayed, but sure that he could do at least that much for her.
They spent the time listening to music and talking about Hulio's upcoming release, glad to have a friend for whom things were going right.
CITADEL 2031.02.15
Dave leaned back and rubbed his eyes. Sahira, sitting across from him in the private study room, smirked.
"I warned you. Professor Geranda is the worst." Dave groaned his agreement.
"How long did it take you to get through this?" he asked, lifting the corner of the tablet and letting it fall back to the table.
"When I saw how bad it was, I broke it up into 5 segments. I've completed three so far."
Dave looked with distaste at the dense text displayed on his device. It taunted him with the additional information that he had only read 3% of it. Breaking it into smaller chunks did make sense, but part of him wanted to just push through and be done with it even if it meant most of the words went straight through his brain without registering. At least then he could honestly say he had read it.
Sahira's phone lit up with a text.
"Natal's study group was cancelled. He's suggesting we meet now? We could finally talk about the meet and greet." Sahira raised her eyebrows at Dave. This development was serendipitous as Dave had cancelled their meeting that had been scheduled for a week and a half ago; that day a package, containing the ring he now wore on his right hand, had been delivered to his dorm, and he had wanted to have it in his possession as soon as possible. He hadn't told Sahira and Natal that story, however.
"My savior," he replied in a fervent voice as he turned his tablet to off. Sahira shook her head but was smiling as she bent to her phone.
Ten minutes later, Natal entered the room.
"Kelly, you should come to this study group sometime," he said upon arriving, referring to the group that had just been cancelled. "With the orchard and all, it would be good for you. Johna Balac is in the group and she is curious about the technology your family uses."
Dave nodded, recognizing the prestigious name that Natal had just dropped. The Balac's grew grapes, also in a segment separate from the Citadel like his family's orchard, though more distant. Most of the produce was dried to raisins for a nutrition source that stored well. A very small amount of the crop, however, was a variety dedicated to making wines. Dave's mother's orchard was similarly permitted to designate a portion of their crop to alcoholic beverages, and they made limited amounts of cider and brandy, though none of those products were as in demand as those under the Balac label.
"Sure. That'd be great," Dave replied, noting the man's overture of friendship.
"Natal, I have just a couple more pages to read to finish this case. Mind if I do that and then we can start?" Sahira asked. Her fake-boyfriend shrugged, and Sahira bent back to her reading.
Dave pondered the couple as he pulled his note book out of his bag. He hadn't asked Sahira about the arrangement, which seemed to offer very little for her emotionally. He supposed the friendship between the two of them, which was close and comfortable, was perhaps enough.
"Nice ring," Natal commented, pulling Dave from his thoughts. Realizing what the man was referring to, he self-consciously covered the thick silver circle. Catching himself, he instead made as if he was just rubbing it due to Natal's comment.
"Thanks."
"Is that platinum?" Natal inquired, peering at the item, and Dave cursed the man's sharp eye.
"No," he lied, "it's some blend. I don't remember what. It's plated." Natal nodded, looking thoughtful.
Dave twisted the ring on his finger, then consciously left it alone so as not draw further attention to it. He didn't want the man asking any more questions as to where he'd gotten it or why. The former would reveal that the piece was in fact quite precious. As for the latter, his stomach went soft at the thought of lying again because he couldn't say that he had gotten it in memory of his bastard half-sister.
"That's well done." To Dave's dismay, Natal continued to gaze at the piece. The wide silver band had a chain motif etched lightly into it. It could be taken as a fashion piece, though it could also have been a slightly unorthodox wedding ring. "Could I see it?" Natal held his hand out to Dave as he cast a sardonic half smile at Sahira. "I'll have to get something like it at some point."
Dave's stomach plummeted, and in that moment, Natal's gesture at furthering their friendship fell off a cliff.
"It's sentimental. I don't like to take it off," Dave said in clipped tones as he forced himself to find a believable lie.
"I'll be sitting right here," Natal said, clearly put-off.
"I…it's a family ring, on my mother's side. She only let me wear it on pain of death if I lost it," he managed, but held his hand out so the man could take a look closer look. Natal stared at Dave for a moment, clearly peeved, but then bent to look at the piece.
"Your mom's family, really? Stark Industries did jewelry?"
"They have all sorts of weird crap," Dave joked, as Natal leaned back. That much was true, though they were still unable to reproduce most of it. Or make it work.
"Is it really a family piece?" Dave's eyes met Sahira's at her question and her look softened; some sympathy entered her face as she added, "I told Natal everything. He understands."
Dave had to think fast to place Sahira's reference. Fortunately, Natal interjected a comment that put the pieces together for him.
"I have to say, the idea that you might have married Corella Crawford, but in reality had something on the side, is quite satisfying." The derogatory nature of the comment was beaten only by the bitter satisfaction the man clearly felt at the idea of a Humanist being played for a fool.
Sitting back in his chair, Dave looked away from his friends, unable to meet their eyes at that moment. He hoped they would just write his behavior off as sentimentality over his forbidden love.
The truth was he felt nauseous; the lying, Natal's referring to 'something' and not 'someone', added to the fact that Dave was sympathetic towards his conservative ex-girlfriend and felt ashamed of how he had used her, and how he would have abused her trust had Eleni given him the opportunity, it all brought him low again.
Desperate to pull himself out of the mood, he focused on the fact that that hideous scenario had never occurred because he had broken up with Corella. But then the memory of the events that had led up to that serendipity threatened to bring him even lower.
Dave approached his father's office with trepidation. The man had asked him to come by this day. They had barely seen each other since he had moved in with his mother in the early spring. It was now the start of autumn.
The young man was wary of another fight as his father would no doubt try, again, to convince him to leave Corella. The irony was, this time Dave was on the same page if that was what his father wanted to discuss. On one level, the invitation had been a relief. He thought the man might be able to help him out of his now 9-month-old relationship. The challenge was letting go of his pride and admitting that his father had been right.
Dave found Juana, one of his father's staff, sitting at the desk in the antechamber, which was unusual. Before he could ask where its usual inhabitant was, she waved him in.
"He's been waiting for you."
His father's greeting was curt, and his next comment gave evidence of his continued animosity towards his son.
"How was church?" Dave bristled and repressed the memory of that day.
"Interesting." He nodded as if he meant it.
"Interesting," his father sneered. "Are you a believer now?" Dave hesitated, then shook his head. His father just looked at him, then, to Dave's surprise, changed the subject.
"I called you here because I need help. It is in regards to your sister." Robert Kelly turned a dubious gaze on Dave. "Unless, of course, you no longer have any interest in her well-being. If that is the case, leave now." Dave's stomach had gone soft, and in that his anger at his father's comment failed to materialize.
"Has something happened to Eleni?"
"Not yet." His father pondered Dave for another long moment, then continued as he picked up a tablet from his desk. "One of your classmates, an upperclassman named Zach Kaldwell, seems to have taken an interest in her."
Dave held back the bitter comment that he already knew that. They were a couple weeks into the school year and he had seen Zach, a popular basketball player with whom Dave associated on a regular basis, walking with Eleni on the street after school. The tall, brown-skinned man had been smiling down at her companionably; Eleni had been her usual subdued self, but she hadn't sent him away. Dave had found the situation disgusting.
"I saw them. It looked like she was having a good time." He was proud that he managed to keep his voice light.
His father froze on his way to where Dave was sitting, the tablet forgotten in his hands. The man's face went deceptively calm, but the insidious twist of sarcasm in his next words belied his outward composure.
"What? Do you think he wants to date her? Maybe he is interested in marriage? Having a couple of kids and giving her the good life?" As soon as his father spoke these words, Dave's jealously evaporated as the ugly, misplaced emotion it had always been. Self-recrimination and dismay quickly filled the void. He shook his head wordlessly, unable to speak for his throat was closing.
"You know there is only one thing he can want from her! You know the expectations our society puts on her! And you know that I have committed myself to providing her more than that!" Dave did know. Somehow it all hadn't seemed real until this moment, but he had always known the prevailing logic as it stood within the Citadel: what better for the daughter of a whore to be but a whore herself?
Horror filled him.
"Maybe your wrong…," he whispered.
His father rolled his eyes in disgust.
"OK, I'll share some other ugly little facts with you. I've been getting offers from people who would 'take her off my hands,' or 'make my pretty little problem disappear' since she was 5," he spat the number with vehemence and disgust. "The offers picked up when she reached her teenaged years, particularly when the media decided to remember she existed." The horror he had been trying to push away overwhelmed, and Dave sank his head into his hands.
Robert Kelly, understanding that his son was finally seeing reality for what it was, let go of his anger at the young man. His tone turned despairing.
"She's beautiful, Dave. Just like her mother. It makes her even more of a target. And our society stacks the deck against your sister. Against all women, really. Your mother showed me the truth of that." The last comment was tired and defeated. Dave looked up to see his father gazing at nothing, his expression unfathomable.
"There was a time I didn't see it but I had hoped to raise you more knowing than I was. If I failed, then that is my fault, but count this as your awakening." The man rubbed his eyes in exhaustion and focused on the immediate again. "I was able to put off those despicable offers from people, many of whom didn't even think that what they were asking was immoral. I kept Eleni close and I knew they couldn't get to her. But this is different. I need your help." He pushed the tablet into Dave's hands. "This is the only way I knew anything was going on."
It was cued to an opinion page from one of the three main newspapers in the city with a guest column titled "Keeping our Schools Clean." The article featured a picture of Zach walking next to Eleni, almost exactly as Dave had seen them. The bit of text below it stated "The presence of Robert Kelly's illegitimate daughter is a disgrace and a dangerous distraction to the students of Keio Girls Academy and Baybrook Boys Preparatory School." Dave looked away and clenched his teeth.
"Elle is being stubborn," his father continued, "for what reason I cannot fathom. She didn't tell us this was happening and getting any facts out of her has been like pulling teeth. She admitted that he hadn't done anything inappropriate so far, but he insists on walking with her when she says she wants to be alone, and he keeps trying to get her to accept gifts from him. She hasn't. I worry that he will lose his patience with her 'playing coy'."
Dave stood up.
"I have to go." His father rounded on him in disbelief.
"Oh, so you have joined them!"
"NO! I want to go find Eleni. To talk to her. Maybe I can get more information out of her!" He wanted to be there for her. His father's anger cooled.
"She's not here."
"What? Where is she?" His father waved distractedly.
"At the hospital. She was feeling dizzy earlier this week, and nearly passed out while she was dancing. Seems the mineral levels in the water at her apartment building are high, and she is uncommonly sensitive to them."
"What? And you didn't tell me that she was in the hospital?"
"With the way you have been acting Dave, I wasn't sure you'd care. Anyway, I doubt she wants to see you. Do you realize how much it hurt her that you, her brother and only friend, suddenly preferred the company of people who condemn her existence with their every breath?!"
"She knows that's not me! I care about her!"
"Then why did you cut off all communication with her?!"
"We had a fight. She stopped talking to me first!"
His father threw up his hands in disgusted exasperation. "So, you dated a Humanist to get back at her or something?"
"No! I dated Corella to fix my reputation! It was all for show!"
Silence. His father stared at him, as the improbable words sunk in. Dave wished the man would say something. His own mind was recalling the reasons he had started dating Corella, to assure himself that his father's comment didn't hit as close to the mark as his stomach told him it did. He spoke to stop the feeling.
"I was hoping you could give me some advice on how to get out of the relationship."
That broke his father's shock-inspired paralysis. The man actually laughed.
"To fix your reputation? Oh my God, Dave. That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard."
Dave clenched his teeth, but desperate, pressed on.
"Can you help me? Every time I bring up splitting up to Corella, she just holds on tighter. Aside from some of her beliefs, she is a decent person. How do I do this without making another mess?"
His father was shaking his head back and forth, occasionally laughing, a despairing sound now.
"No, Dave. You are not someone who needs help. You made your mess. You clean it up. I don't want to talk to you about that anymore." He stabbed his finger at the tablet. "I need you to learn what you can about Kaldwell. If you can pick up anything about his intentions, it will help me keep Eleni safe."
"Why can't you just stop him?"
"Can I? He hasn't broken any laws. And if he does what I fear he intends to, is there any real recourse for Eleni? Would anyone be sympathetic other than us?" Dave shook his head, wanting to deny his father's words, but knowing he couldn't.
"But after the gangs targeted her, you were able to get them to stop." Robert paused, and again stared into nothing.
"And I paid a high price for that. I was a new senator and used political capital recklessly. It made me lose support that I had worked hard to gain and could have used later on to push through bills that would have benefited thousands across our population." He looked at his son. "I don't regret it, but I have learned from it. It is a last resort." He paused. "Anyway, I am not sure I have enough capital to keep Eleni safe at this point. A child being attacked is one thing. A woman whom everyone expects to become someone's mistress or worse, being pursued by a wealthy man…many would see that as a good situation for her."
Dave felt numb.
"I'll see what I can learn," he mumbled, and started to stand. Then he remembered where Eleni was.
"Wait, what about Eleni being sick? Is she going to be ok?"
"Yes, now that we have found the cause. We've installed water filters in their apartment. She should be back at school in a few days." His eyes fixed on Dave. "Which makes it all the more important that you learn anything you can."
"What hospital is she at?" Now his father's eyebrows raised in exaggerated shock.
"You actually want to visit?"
"Of course, I do!
"I'm not sure she wants to see you," his father muttered, echoing his earlier sentiment, but he bent down and scribbled an address and room number on a pad of paper. Dave took it and started for the door.
"Dave," his father's tone was no longer accusatory or sarcastic, "I won't help you figure out how to get out of your bad decision, but if you want to come home, I won't make an issue of it anymore. I miss having you around." Dave nodded, unsure what he wanted to do, and left.
An hour later he was walking into a hospital room, a flower arrangement in hand. Eleni did indeed look sick; wan, pale and distant. It reminded him of when she had been hospitalized after the gang had broken her arm all those years ago. It made him extremely uncomfortable.
She glanced up when he entered, then she looked away from him.
He carefully put the arrangement down on the table across from her bed. Approaching the bedside, he took a small bit of paper from his pocket. Eleni still refused to look at him.
"I'm sorry you're not feeling well, Elle." He stared at the side of her head and struggled for words. I'm looking out for you! I'm going to keep you safe! His brain screamed these thoughts willing her to know how much he cared, "…I hope you get better soon."
He realized he was scared for her, and that he hated himself for what he had been doing these past months. But she didn't move, and he didn't say any of that.
He slipped the note under her pillow.
"I want to make things right between us," he said softly, his chest aching as he looked at her. She kept staring to the side. Tears pressed at his eyes, and he knew he had to leave before he started crying. "I miss you."
She stayed still and silent as a statue.
He couldn't take it anymore and left.
"Dave, I was wondering…is she a mutant, too? I mean, your sister managed to get by…"
Sahira's comment thankfully broke Dave out of the confines of his memory, though the words didn't immediately register. As awareness returned, he realized he was staring at a painting on the wall depicting of one of the Citadel parks. Pressure was building behind his eyes. He broke his gaze and looked down, blinking.
When he looked up, he just stared at Sahira for a moment even though the answer to her question was a simple and uncomplicated lie. He wondered how deep the lies would go, and whether he'd ever get caught in them.
"No, she isn't," he finally said. Sahira nodded but seemed doubtful. Natal looked away, clearly uncomfortable about discussing this topic seriously. Then the man made an effort to understand, and Dave wished he hadn't.
"Everyone knew your parents diverged from the norm, and their prestige got them by. Your father was lenient in a lot of ways," he said quietly, "but I suppose…he did it himself, so why not encourage you?"
Dave stood up in anger.
"It wasn't like that!" he found himself yelling and caught sight of Natal's shocked face which was quickly becoming defensive. He forced himself calm and sank back into his seat. "I'm sorry. Look, it's over. But it wasn't like that. I really cared for her." Sahira and Natal shared a look, and Dave had to force his anger back down. "I know that you don't really want to talk about it. And I don't either. I'm not the one who brought it up, anyway. So, let's leave it at that."
"Fine," Natal said shortly. "Let's plan and get this over with." Dave nodded relieved.
It took him a minute to fully get his brain trained on the new subject. Natal had started by talking about the next meet-and-greet: he had the room booked and all the details set. Sahira would start spreading the word the day before the actual meeting.
Sahira then gave an update on the families she had met since then as well as her impressions from the last meet and greet.
"I mentioned taking a legal route with two of them, and both families expressed support," she finished. Dave nodded, satisfied with that.
His companions turned to him for his update, and he took a moment to organize his thoughts before introducing a topic they wouldn't be expecting.
"At the last meet-and-greet, ten people brought up having a public display, like a rally or something." As he had suspected, his peer's reaction to this suggestion was defensive: Sahira's face darkened, and Natal sat back. Dave spread his hands, a calming gesture. "It came from them. I didn't bring it up. We need to consider it." Sahira jumped on him immediately.
"Dave, we talked about this. These meet-and-greets are risky as it is. Things have gone well so far, but we are only engaging a tiny portion of the Citadel population. There are plenty of people out there who don't agree with us. These people suggesting rallies don't understand that. And apparently neither do you." Natal said nothing, satisfied to let the two of them argue it out.
"Yes, but their desire for change is strong, as is ours," he countered evenly. "We believe that there is a way for mutants to be incorporated into the population, and we need to show that. These conversations we are having with people are valuable, but a rally would provide real evidence of our commitment. That it's not just some bizarre side project we are doing to amuse ourselves while in university." He smiled, injecting some humor into the contentious topic. "And we would of course be careful."
Natal snorted.
"'Amuse ourselves'…an interesting way to describe pursuing something close to treason." Dave suppressed a grimaced. The man had a way of shoving his opinions in through a side door. Sahira took advantage of the comment.
"Exactly! And for that reason, we have to do this through standard political channels. Dave, it will only give us more security that way."
Dave shook his head. "Security isn't all it is cut out to be. Being safe can suffocate a cause in the name of preserving it. And look," he leaned in, making sure to catch both of their eyes before continuing, "I'm not suggesting we parade through the streets with placards demanding mutant amnesty. Our audience so far is small, so it would be a small rally. If we pick an out-of-the way place and keep it short, it will start to galvanize our base and no one outside of the Network will know."
"Out-of-the-way?" Natal smirked, "Just where do you plan to find a place like that in the Citadel. Bloc 8?" The sarcastic comment played straight into Dave's hand.
"As a matter of fact, yes." His peers went silent, and Sahira actually paled a bit.
"You've got to be kidding, Dave."
Bloc 8, the segment of the city that pointed outward directly east, was empty. Fifty years ago, there had been a devastating outbreak of disease, which many assumed had originated with a mutant. Bloc 8 had held the brunt of the epidemic, and in desperation, the city had quarantined all sick individuals there, and sealed off the Bloc. Every Bloc could be sealed off with massive segments of wall that rose from the ground to fit in to the girders of the Veil high above.
The sealing of Bloc 8 was the last time it had been done. It had remained closed for 20 years while the military slowly cleaned it up and rebuilt it. The tests that identified mutants more accurately were developed in response to the disaster, though it was never proven to have actually begun with a mutant.
When Bloc 8 was reopened, however, no one had wanted to live there. It remained all but deserted to this day.
Dave, himself, felt a bit nervous approaching that part of the city, but he pushed the ghost stories aside. It was perfect for a low-profile event. He built his case.
"It's right beside the train yard, and there are plenty of warehouses." The ghost Bloc was mainly used for storage at the moment. "I'm sure we can find one in which to store supplies. We wouldn't need much anyway. Also, we can ride the trolley's and get off at the stop just before the train yard to stock the supplies, so it doesn't look like we're going for a stroll in the Bloc." He eyed Natal at that, hoping the logistics would engage the man.
He was right, as Natal nodded distantly.
"That could work. I could find a warehouse, no problem. Maybe even my family's…and there is a small square on the interior. It's not so far from Blocs 7 and 1…" his voice trailed off as Sahira caught his eye with an irritated look. He shrugged, "It's intriguing. We might not do anything for a while, but I doubt the situation in Bloc 8 is going to change during that time."
"Does it hurt to start planning?" Dave pressed.
Sahira rolled her eyes, but gave in.
"Fine. We plan out logistics but take no action at this time. And no talking of it to anyone."
"That sounds good," Dave replied he sat back, satisfied and stable. The invigoration of the debate had returned his emotional equilibrium. "So, about the families I've met…"