Sun-Yi and Lian woke the next day to find cops crawling over every inch of
the encampment. They were going to every home, waking people up, and
questioning them. They were also being patted down.
"Mom, what's going on?" asked Sun-Yi.
"I heard about it from your father: Simone has been arrested."
The two girls' eyes widened. Arrested? Who turned her in? How did she get caught? "Maybe she turned herself in," Sun-Yi whispered.
Whatever it was, both girls knew they needed to talk to Misha and Sonja. They hurriedly got dressed and ran out the door. As they stepped outside, they were immediately searched and questioned. Per their mother's instructions, they cooperated with the police and were soon on their way. They didn't, however, mention a word about stealing Simone's scrapbook: they weren't stupid.
Misha was already up, having been awakened and questioned by the police earlier. His mother was rushing to and fro, gathering stuff, and muttering in Russian. The tenants of her trailer, knowing she was obviously in a bad mood, stayed out of her way.
Misha looked tired. "Lian, next time you call the cops, could you request that they come at a more reasonable hour like say, maybe during the lunch hour."
"But I didn't call them!"
"I didn't either," Sun-Yi added.
"Well let's see, I know I didn't-both of you claim you didn't-so who could have called?"
"Let's go catch up with Sonja and ask her," suggested Sun-Yi.
Like Misha, Sonja was already up. Apparently the police searched the Russian trailers first. Despite having been awakened at an unreasonable hour, Sonja still looked prettier than Lian could manage on her best of days. Her pale blonde hair was pulled back into a bun and she was dressed in blue, her favourite colour.
"Hey," she said, giving them a half-hearted wave. "Oh and Misha, thanks for the six 'o' clock wake-up call. I really appreciated it."
"But I didn't," he said.
"I know; I was just kidding. I've known you since practically birth and you wouldn't do anything like this."
The group walked over to the meal tent and grabbed some breakfast. While they were eating they chatted about Simone's arrest.
"Look on the bright side; now she can have that bland stuff she likes for free," Sun-Yi said.
"Sun-Yi!" the group responded.
"Hey, I was raised to focus on the bright side of things."
"What about the scrapbook?" Sonja asked. "How are we going to give it to the police without getting arrested ourselves?"
"Good question." Misha said. "I think they're searching Simone's trailer for it even as we speak."
The group got up from the table and looked out the window. Sure enough, Simone's trailer was surrounded by police tape. Police walked in and out carrying batches of letters and anything that might contain a clue about the disappearance of Ororo Munroe.
"Wow, this is kinda freaky. I never thought an unsolved mystery would happen right in our neighbourhood," said Sun-Yi.
"So where did you hide the stuff, Misha?" Sonja whispered.
"I hid them under one of the tool sheds," he whispered.
The group finished eating than went to the tool shed. It was the farthest, most remote tool shed, and was often used as a hiding place because it was so rarely used. When they were little, Sun-Yi and Lian would hide their spending money, usually little more than spare change, and draw elaborate treasure maps leading to it. However, no one took the bait.
Misha grabbed the scrapbook and slipped it into his backpack. He walked over to Jake. Jake was busy looking at the rigging equipment and checking the lighting equipment to make sure there were no flaws.
"Oh hi Misha. I'm sure you heard the news. I hope Simone's happy. She's got Mr. Henrie and everyone else running around in circles trying to keep this under control. If you're wondering, performances have been canceled until further notice," Jake said.
"I hope we don't have to cancel too many performances; we can't afford to," said Lian.
"So do I."
"Jake I need to borrow your truck. I'm going into town to pick up some supplies just in case this thing doesn't blow over."
"Okay, but if anything happens to it, you're dead meat."
Jake's truck was one of his few prized positions. It was big, lipstick red thing his parents gave him when he graduated from college and was headed for a high-paying career as an engineer. Imagine the look on his parents' faces when he quit his job and ran off to become a part of a circus that was essentially founded by hippies.
Misha hopped into the driver's seat (He was the only one with a license.) Lian, Sonja, and Sun-Yi piled in back. Riding in the cab was for sissies.
Misha drove into town and stopped at the drugstore. Sonja glared at him. "Hey I told Jake I was going to pick up supplies. It'd look kinda suspicious if I came back empty-handed."
The group piled out of the truck and went inside. Most of their shopping was done at drug stores, thrift stores, and consignment stores rather than malls. Malls were expensive because most of the money went into rent and fancy fountains.
The herd fragmented and went to various sections of the store. Sun-Yi went to the cosmetics section. Lian shopped alone, looking at new accessories for her hair.
Finally they made their purchases, a strange mixture of painkillers (Icy Hot and Ibuprofen), makeup, and snacks. Then they piled back into the truck and drove on.
They arrived at the police station, thirty minutes after driving around. Cops sat around at their desks doing paperwork and taking phone calls. It wasn't like what they'd seen on Law & Order with some burly officer trying to eke a confession out of someone. They guessed the questioning went on in another room.
Sonja glared at Misha as if asking him what do we do next? Truth be told he wasn't sure. This whole thing was hard to get used to: one minute you're just another circus kid, the next you're stumbling on clues related to a kidnapping.
Finally thinking of nothing better to do, he walked up to one of the cops. The cop was buried deep in his paper work.
"Um.Excuse me, sir," Misha said, in the loudest clearest voice he could muster.
"What?" asked the Cop.
"We are friends of Simone Beauvais and we were wondering where she was being held."
"Beauvais? That name does sound familiar. Hold on, while I look her up."
The group waited while the cop typed up something on the computer. "Ah, here it is. She's being held at the Westchester County Jail."
The group left and gathered around the pick-up truck. "So what's this plan of yours, Misha?" asked Sonja.
"I was thinking, maybe we could give it to her and let her deliver it to the police."
"Brilliant. And what makes you think she's going to sing to the cops?"
"Well she did already. Probably her conscience has been getting to her and she feels the need to confess. Mom always did say God has His ways of meting out justice."
"What if she squeals on us?" asked Lian.
"Then will take like grown-ups. I don't know: I haven't thought that far ahead."
Sonja smirked. "Typical guy. Always in the short-term.
The jail wasn't like any jail they'd seen in movies or cartoons. It was actually an attractive red brick building that would have been the perfect office building if it weren't for the bars on the windows. Inside however was a completely different scenario.
They first had to be passed through a metal detector. They were patted down and their package was searched. Finding nothing wrong, the warden told them were Simone's cell was and sent them on their way.
It was dark.dim, save for the little streams of light let in by window. The cells were bare, except for a bed, a filthy sink, and a toilet. Everything was done in full view of the guards; the prisoners couldn't use the bathroom or was their hands without someone looking in. Thirty minutes a day, they were trotted out for their exercise before being shoved back into their cell. This place had obviously been built before the popular clinical style; thick steel doors, fluorescent lighting, and linoleum.
Lian couldn't imagine living in a place like this.so devoid of natural light. It was a harsh environment of concrete, glass, and iron. She had a feeling if she ever drew again, this place would show up.
The prison was mostly used as a warehouse for people awaiting trial. Criminals of all shapes and sizes loomed in their cells. Some were prostitutes, others you could only guessed. Only iron bars separated them from rapists.
Simone's cell was the third one on the left. She sat in her cell, rocking back and forth and humming absentmindedly to herself. It was a mixture of tunes: from the National Anthem, to the Miss America theme, plus some random bits thrown in.
Life most certainly had taken its revenge on her. Though it had been maybe only forty-eight hours since they'd last seen her, it looked like forty years. She was bony.emaciated.clad in a baggy white t-shirt that had been washed so many times, the image was barely visible. Her eyes had circles around them so dark that they resembled bruises. No longer was she the Duchess or the Angel.
Misha, Lian, Sonja, and Sun-Yi all felt sorry for her. Apparently her conscience had meted out a justice that no court, no matter how cruel, could have condoned. They felt sorry for her but knew they must deliver the package to her.
None of them could move. Even Sun-Yi and Sonja, two of the gabbiest people around, stood silently. Misha sighed. It was up to him again.
He stepped forward. "Excuse me," he said, "but I have a present for you, Simone."
She took it in her bony fingers. The group having accomplished their mission went home and spent the rest of the day in a fog.
Next morning, they were as shocked as anybody to hear the news. Sometime in the night, Simone had managed to hang herself in her cell, without any of the guards noticing. It was an obvious suicide: no one could have gotten in her cell without anyone noticing. The suicide not she'd clutched in one hand made mention of her conscience but mostly was a collection of quotes from various sources and a request that she be laid to rest next to her father in heaven.
"And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted---nevermore!" Final quote from "The Raven" by Edgar Allen Poe.
As it was the custom, the police carefully cleaned out the cell and that's when they found the scrapbook. The scrapbook was a smoking gun if they'd ever saw one. Finally they had something they could use.
After they found out who had delivered the package, the circus grounds were even more crawling with police. Most of the performers were fed up with being questioned and patted down as though they were criminals, so they kept their doors locked and refused to answer the police calls.
Search dogs were brought in to sniff around but there was no trace of any scent within the encampment. Other than personal effects, nothing was found in Simone's trailer. The only scent picked up was a faint scent along the dirt road leading out into the country. Police dogs followed it for several miles before the trail finally turned cold. Unbeknownst to them, Logan had already followed the same course and come across nothing.
For the X-Men this was a breath of fresh air. After all those dead ends, they finally had something. They returned to the encampment hoping to find out more, but unfortunately the mood there was that of resentment. Mr. Henrie and the rest of the staff were too busy running around fielding reporters and police officers to offer any assistance and most of the performers either ignored them all together or were outright hostile. One of them slammed a door in their faces and said, "Haven't you done enough already!" Another said, simply enough, "Get the Hell of my property!"
Lian and Sun-Yi watched the chaos from inside their trailer. Their parents and the rest of the staff were in the middle of a meeting to discuss how they could contain the fall-out from the latest revelations. Before they had left, her parents told Lian to look after Sun-Yi and not to leave the trailer.
Both Lian and Sun-Yi were profoundly grateful that everyone was rallying behind one another. The whole circus knew that her, Sun-Yi, Sonja, and Misha had delivered the package but no one cared. The circus was far more important than that.
Things between Lian and Sun-Yi had been strained ever since the visit to the jail. Sun-Yi could barely look her sister in the eye anymore and Lian couldn't blame her. Ever since she discovered her powers, she no longer recognized the person staring at her in the mirror.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Lian went to the door. It was them again, those bothersome teens and that bald guy. Lian felt disgust well up inside her. Why did they insist on visiting? Hadn't they caused enough trouble?
But Lian had been raised to be polite and proper in even the most extreme of circumstances. So instead of screaming out every insult she could think of, she smiled and opened the door to greet her unwanted visitors.
"Hello, how may I help you," she said in perfect Mandarin.
I know you understand English, Lian.
Lian sat up, startled. Who said, that? The voice sounded as though it were inside her head. Great, she thought, not only have I started a life of crime, but I'm going crazy as well. She searched the ground of eyes gathered at her stoop. Her eyes immediately fell on the blue eyes of that creepy bald guy. He was staring at her intently as though taking her apart, piece-by-piece.
Lian felt sick. Just who were these people? They moved so perfectly in sync with one another, it was like they were warriors. She could almost imagine them in armour.
"Um.Sorry.got to run," she blurted out, slamming the door behind her. She locked it as tight as she could then collapsed on the bed, panting.
Sun-Yi stared at her, wide-eyed. "What just happened?"
"I don't know and I really don't want to find out. They creep the hell out of me."
"If you're so concerned about them, why don't you do a little spy work?"
"Excuse me?"
"Mom always told to know your enemy better than you know yourself."
"Sun-Yi, that's the best idea you've had all day."
The two girls summoned the White Singer, gave her the cloak of invisibility, then ordered her to follow that group around and get information on them. Unfortunately they didn't know about Logan's sense of smell.
He sniffed. "There's someone following us," he muttered. The Professor focused his telepathic power and quickly found the White Singer. Using his telekinesis, he lifted the cloak of invisibility from the singer's head, revealing her to the fellow X-Men.
She was quite remarkable. It wasn't so much her bizarre appearance that made her remarkable, but her realness. Her white flesh had the same warmth and texture of any human.
The creature stood for a few moments staring at the Professor with her sapphire eyes. She didn't blink. Her chest heaved in and out and her breath came in flutters, the sure mark of terror. After a few minutes, she took off. The White Singer ran to Lian's trailer and banged on the door until she was let in.
Sometime while White Singer had been out spying, Lian had simply passed out. She had been talking about Ororo Munroe when she let out a gasp and drooped to the floor. It wasn't a good hard "Thud" faint like in soap operas, more like she'd just wilted.
Of course Sun-Yi panicked. Her parents had a tendency to always assume the worse and how the hell was she going to explain this to them, especially when there was no one who could back up her story.
Okay, what would Nancy Drew do, she thought. Sun-Yi loved Nancy Drew books, which was yet another thing her parents disapproved of (They called them "trash literature.) It didn't matter that Nancy Drew wasn't Shakespeare: Nancy Drew was just as smart and resourceful as any guy detective.
Then she remembered: her mom and dad kept an extensive first aid kit under the bathroom sink. Maybe they'd have smelling salts or something like that. She scrambled to the bathroom. She searched the first aid kit, tossing around various bandages and the like, when she heard a knock at the door.
It was White Singer, panicked and frightened. Sun-Yi saw she was without the cloak and immediately jumped to conclusions. "Let me guess, A) they found you out, B) they figured you out, and C) they'll be stopping by soon."
White Singer could do nothing but nod ruefully. "Crap! What am I going to do now?" Sun-Yi told White Singer to go back to where she came from, rationalizing that it was what your master would have wanted. She then went and dragged Lian onto the bed she shared with her and drew the purple curtain, which was the only barrier between their room and the rest of the trailer. She dug around in the first aid kit until she found the smelling salts. "Aha!" she shouted. She marched over to Lian and stuck the smelling salts under her nose. Sun-Yi was just feeling triumphant, having handled all this on her own when there was a knock at the door.
Her face sank. "Oh crud," she said. She already had an inkling who was at the door and she really wasn't in the mood to deal with them. But still she couldn't keep her guests waiting. Wouldn't be proper of a hostess.
She plastered her most June-Cleaver-Martha-Stewart-smile on her face. She opened the door and greeted them with such incredible sugar-sweetness that she felt herself cringe inwardly. "Oh hi, welcome to the Jiang residence. Please come in and make yourself at home. I must apologize for the small quarters: we're not the Rockefellers."
Good lord, Sun-Yi thought, I'm being perky. Crikey, did I just laugh at nothing. As soon as these people leave, I will bang my head against the wall.
"It's okay, Sun-Yi. I'll handle this," said Lian, who had just woken up. Sun-Yi sighed and mouthed "Thank you."
Lian looked at the assembled crowd. "I guess you already figured out everything, huh."
"Yes Lian. In fact I was hoping to talk to you," said the Professor.
"Oh really," She said. "You forced us to cancel several of our shows just to talk to me. Look, next time you want to talk, send a postcard and I'll be more than happy to accommodate you."
Lian smiled. It wasn't like her to say anything like that, but those outsiders rankled her in such a way. She looked up, feeling triumphant. The Professor stared back at her. Oh my god, she thought, the man is dead serious. "All right, we can chat but Sun-Yi stays," she said. That way if anything happened, there would be a witness. "Don't worry; Sun-Yi may like to talk, but she can keep a secret."
The Professor explained everything to her. The history of their organization, who was involved, everything. The more Lian listened, the more cross she felt. Why would she want to leave the only life she's ever known to join some military group? She didn't want to learn how to use her powers: she just wanted them to go away so she could go back to just plain drawing. That probably wasn't likely to happen, though. Once cursed, always cursed. "I don't know if I really want to join your group. I have my entire life here; I love what I do in the circus and want to keep doing it as long as I can. I guess I should learn to control my powers, because as much as I may pray, they're not going to go away. Couldn't I like stay with you for a few weeks after the tour wraps up?"
"I would have to talk this over with your parents, Lian," said the Professor. Lian choked. Her parents? Did this man realize just what he was dealing with? Her mind began to fill with images of gloom and doom. She could almost hear them screaming at her in Mandarin, denouncing her as part of the family, and throwing her out. It was a prospect too scary to comprehend. Oh well, worse comes to worse, she could always count on her friends. She smiled as she remembered what Sonja had told her, "The fact that you have powers doesn't change what a really cool person you are."
They were going to find out anyway. Better to have the Professor explain it. "Okay," she said, "you can talk to them, but you're going to have to wait: they're in the middle of a meeting."
The Professor left. Now she was alone in her trailer with the outsi. no the X-Men. "Um.hi," she said. Lian was never very good at beginning a conversation. "Look we kind of got off on the wrong foot so why don't we start over. My name's Lian and this is my sister Sun-Yi."
"Hi," the group responded.
"We saw your show, Sunday. We all enjoyed it," said Scott.
"How do you do that stuff?" Evan asked. "Man, that looks like it hurts."
"Well it does," Lian admitted, "but we love what we do. Mama says you have to walk on pins and needles for what you love. Look why don't we call a truce. I was wrong to just assume outsiders didn't know anything."
"Damn straight," Logan muttered.
Sun-Yi, who had been sitting quietly for the past couple minutes (a rare feat), stood up. Her small face lined with determination, she said, "We're willing to tell you everything now. Don't know how much it could help, but it couldn't hurt."
The two girls told them what they knew. The dry butcher selling tickets had seen her before the show, as did the butcher selling popcorn. Neither of them paid to much attention because she was just another customer going to see the show. Matsya said he saw her at the beginning when they were clowning around with the audience. Later after the show, a dry butcher said she purchased a couple programs from him. He was the last circus person to see her. The girls explained about Sonja and Misha searching Simone's trailer and about later using White Singer to grab her scrapbook. Then later visiting Simone in prison.
"She turned herself in," murmured Jean, "but no one got anything from her."
"The more I think about it, the more I think she had nothing to do with your friend's disappearance," said Lian.
"What do you mean?" asked Evan. Right now he hated Simone more than anything for keeping quiet about her involvement.
"It's weird, but I don't think she did it. She definitely had more than a passing knowledge of what happened, but I think that's about it as to her involvement. Sonja and Misha found all these threatening letters from this guy named Creed in her trailer. They say the letters threatened to slit her throat in the middle of the night and all sorts of horrible things," said Lian. She could hear Logan muttering various epithets under his breath and growling. "Maybe I should go fetch them; they're in this as deep as I am."
She went and fetched Sonja and Misha. Before letting them into her trailer, she filled them in on everything.
One of the things that amazed Scott was how ordinary Lian and her friends looked out of costume. Even though they could do tricks that would make Sir Isaac Newton cream himself, they looked no different from any other teenager. Misha was of average height with brown hair and eyes. Sonja had a build that was considered a classic flyer build: she was long and lean with long, spindly legs. She had blond air and bright blue eyes and this bravado about her, almost like a movie star.
"Hey, so this is the group you were talking about," said Sonja. "They look like quite a bunch."
"Guys, this is Sonja and Misha. Sonja and Misha, those are the X-Men," said Lian. She went through and introduced the members. "If you're wondering, I've already gone through and told them everything."
"Mom, what's going on?" asked Sun-Yi.
"I heard about it from your father: Simone has been arrested."
The two girls' eyes widened. Arrested? Who turned her in? How did she get caught? "Maybe she turned herself in," Sun-Yi whispered.
Whatever it was, both girls knew they needed to talk to Misha and Sonja. They hurriedly got dressed and ran out the door. As they stepped outside, they were immediately searched and questioned. Per their mother's instructions, they cooperated with the police and were soon on their way. They didn't, however, mention a word about stealing Simone's scrapbook: they weren't stupid.
Misha was already up, having been awakened and questioned by the police earlier. His mother was rushing to and fro, gathering stuff, and muttering in Russian. The tenants of her trailer, knowing she was obviously in a bad mood, stayed out of her way.
Misha looked tired. "Lian, next time you call the cops, could you request that they come at a more reasonable hour like say, maybe during the lunch hour."
"But I didn't call them!"
"I didn't either," Sun-Yi added.
"Well let's see, I know I didn't-both of you claim you didn't-so who could have called?"
"Let's go catch up with Sonja and ask her," suggested Sun-Yi.
Like Misha, Sonja was already up. Apparently the police searched the Russian trailers first. Despite having been awakened at an unreasonable hour, Sonja still looked prettier than Lian could manage on her best of days. Her pale blonde hair was pulled back into a bun and she was dressed in blue, her favourite colour.
"Hey," she said, giving them a half-hearted wave. "Oh and Misha, thanks for the six 'o' clock wake-up call. I really appreciated it."
"But I didn't," he said.
"I know; I was just kidding. I've known you since practically birth and you wouldn't do anything like this."
The group walked over to the meal tent and grabbed some breakfast. While they were eating they chatted about Simone's arrest.
"Look on the bright side; now she can have that bland stuff she likes for free," Sun-Yi said.
"Sun-Yi!" the group responded.
"Hey, I was raised to focus on the bright side of things."
"What about the scrapbook?" Sonja asked. "How are we going to give it to the police without getting arrested ourselves?"
"Good question." Misha said. "I think they're searching Simone's trailer for it even as we speak."
The group got up from the table and looked out the window. Sure enough, Simone's trailer was surrounded by police tape. Police walked in and out carrying batches of letters and anything that might contain a clue about the disappearance of Ororo Munroe.
"Wow, this is kinda freaky. I never thought an unsolved mystery would happen right in our neighbourhood," said Sun-Yi.
"So where did you hide the stuff, Misha?" Sonja whispered.
"I hid them under one of the tool sheds," he whispered.
The group finished eating than went to the tool shed. It was the farthest, most remote tool shed, and was often used as a hiding place because it was so rarely used. When they were little, Sun-Yi and Lian would hide their spending money, usually little more than spare change, and draw elaborate treasure maps leading to it. However, no one took the bait.
Misha grabbed the scrapbook and slipped it into his backpack. He walked over to Jake. Jake was busy looking at the rigging equipment and checking the lighting equipment to make sure there were no flaws.
"Oh hi Misha. I'm sure you heard the news. I hope Simone's happy. She's got Mr. Henrie and everyone else running around in circles trying to keep this under control. If you're wondering, performances have been canceled until further notice," Jake said.
"I hope we don't have to cancel too many performances; we can't afford to," said Lian.
"So do I."
"Jake I need to borrow your truck. I'm going into town to pick up some supplies just in case this thing doesn't blow over."
"Okay, but if anything happens to it, you're dead meat."
Jake's truck was one of his few prized positions. It was big, lipstick red thing his parents gave him when he graduated from college and was headed for a high-paying career as an engineer. Imagine the look on his parents' faces when he quit his job and ran off to become a part of a circus that was essentially founded by hippies.
Misha hopped into the driver's seat (He was the only one with a license.) Lian, Sonja, and Sun-Yi piled in back. Riding in the cab was for sissies.
Misha drove into town and stopped at the drugstore. Sonja glared at him. "Hey I told Jake I was going to pick up supplies. It'd look kinda suspicious if I came back empty-handed."
The group piled out of the truck and went inside. Most of their shopping was done at drug stores, thrift stores, and consignment stores rather than malls. Malls were expensive because most of the money went into rent and fancy fountains.
The herd fragmented and went to various sections of the store. Sun-Yi went to the cosmetics section. Lian shopped alone, looking at new accessories for her hair.
Finally they made their purchases, a strange mixture of painkillers (Icy Hot and Ibuprofen), makeup, and snacks. Then they piled back into the truck and drove on.
They arrived at the police station, thirty minutes after driving around. Cops sat around at their desks doing paperwork and taking phone calls. It wasn't like what they'd seen on Law & Order with some burly officer trying to eke a confession out of someone. They guessed the questioning went on in another room.
Sonja glared at Misha as if asking him what do we do next? Truth be told he wasn't sure. This whole thing was hard to get used to: one minute you're just another circus kid, the next you're stumbling on clues related to a kidnapping.
Finally thinking of nothing better to do, he walked up to one of the cops. The cop was buried deep in his paper work.
"Um.Excuse me, sir," Misha said, in the loudest clearest voice he could muster.
"What?" asked the Cop.
"We are friends of Simone Beauvais and we were wondering where she was being held."
"Beauvais? That name does sound familiar. Hold on, while I look her up."
The group waited while the cop typed up something on the computer. "Ah, here it is. She's being held at the Westchester County Jail."
The group left and gathered around the pick-up truck. "So what's this plan of yours, Misha?" asked Sonja.
"I was thinking, maybe we could give it to her and let her deliver it to the police."
"Brilliant. And what makes you think she's going to sing to the cops?"
"Well she did already. Probably her conscience has been getting to her and she feels the need to confess. Mom always did say God has His ways of meting out justice."
"What if she squeals on us?" asked Lian.
"Then will take like grown-ups. I don't know: I haven't thought that far ahead."
Sonja smirked. "Typical guy. Always in the short-term.
The jail wasn't like any jail they'd seen in movies or cartoons. It was actually an attractive red brick building that would have been the perfect office building if it weren't for the bars on the windows. Inside however was a completely different scenario.
They first had to be passed through a metal detector. They were patted down and their package was searched. Finding nothing wrong, the warden told them were Simone's cell was and sent them on their way.
It was dark.dim, save for the little streams of light let in by window. The cells were bare, except for a bed, a filthy sink, and a toilet. Everything was done in full view of the guards; the prisoners couldn't use the bathroom or was their hands without someone looking in. Thirty minutes a day, they were trotted out for their exercise before being shoved back into their cell. This place had obviously been built before the popular clinical style; thick steel doors, fluorescent lighting, and linoleum.
Lian couldn't imagine living in a place like this.so devoid of natural light. It was a harsh environment of concrete, glass, and iron. She had a feeling if she ever drew again, this place would show up.
The prison was mostly used as a warehouse for people awaiting trial. Criminals of all shapes and sizes loomed in their cells. Some were prostitutes, others you could only guessed. Only iron bars separated them from rapists.
Simone's cell was the third one on the left. She sat in her cell, rocking back and forth and humming absentmindedly to herself. It was a mixture of tunes: from the National Anthem, to the Miss America theme, plus some random bits thrown in.
Life most certainly had taken its revenge on her. Though it had been maybe only forty-eight hours since they'd last seen her, it looked like forty years. She was bony.emaciated.clad in a baggy white t-shirt that had been washed so many times, the image was barely visible. Her eyes had circles around them so dark that they resembled bruises. No longer was she the Duchess or the Angel.
Misha, Lian, Sonja, and Sun-Yi all felt sorry for her. Apparently her conscience had meted out a justice that no court, no matter how cruel, could have condoned. They felt sorry for her but knew they must deliver the package to her.
None of them could move. Even Sun-Yi and Sonja, two of the gabbiest people around, stood silently. Misha sighed. It was up to him again.
He stepped forward. "Excuse me," he said, "but I have a present for you, Simone."
She took it in her bony fingers. The group having accomplished their mission went home and spent the rest of the day in a fog.
Next morning, they were as shocked as anybody to hear the news. Sometime in the night, Simone had managed to hang herself in her cell, without any of the guards noticing. It was an obvious suicide: no one could have gotten in her cell without anyone noticing. The suicide not she'd clutched in one hand made mention of her conscience but mostly was a collection of quotes from various sources and a request that she be laid to rest next to her father in heaven.
"And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted---nevermore!" Final quote from "The Raven" by Edgar Allen Poe.
As it was the custom, the police carefully cleaned out the cell and that's when they found the scrapbook. The scrapbook was a smoking gun if they'd ever saw one. Finally they had something they could use.
After they found out who had delivered the package, the circus grounds were even more crawling with police. Most of the performers were fed up with being questioned and patted down as though they were criminals, so they kept their doors locked and refused to answer the police calls.
Search dogs were brought in to sniff around but there was no trace of any scent within the encampment. Other than personal effects, nothing was found in Simone's trailer. The only scent picked up was a faint scent along the dirt road leading out into the country. Police dogs followed it for several miles before the trail finally turned cold. Unbeknownst to them, Logan had already followed the same course and come across nothing.
For the X-Men this was a breath of fresh air. After all those dead ends, they finally had something. They returned to the encampment hoping to find out more, but unfortunately the mood there was that of resentment. Mr. Henrie and the rest of the staff were too busy running around fielding reporters and police officers to offer any assistance and most of the performers either ignored them all together or were outright hostile. One of them slammed a door in their faces and said, "Haven't you done enough already!" Another said, simply enough, "Get the Hell of my property!"
Lian and Sun-Yi watched the chaos from inside their trailer. Their parents and the rest of the staff were in the middle of a meeting to discuss how they could contain the fall-out from the latest revelations. Before they had left, her parents told Lian to look after Sun-Yi and not to leave the trailer.
Both Lian and Sun-Yi were profoundly grateful that everyone was rallying behind one another. The whole circus knew that her, Sun-Yi, Sonja, and Misha had delivered the package but no one cared. The circus was far more important than that.
Things between Lian and Sun-Yi had been strained ever since the visit to the jail. Sun-Yi could barely look her sister in the eye anymore and Lian couldn't blame her. Ever since she discovered her powers, she no longer recognized the person staring at her in the mirror.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Lian went to the door. It was them again, those bothersome teens and that bald guy. Lian felt disgust well up inside her. Why did they insist on visiting? Hadn't they caused enough trouble?
But Lian had been raised to be polite and proper in even the most extreme of circumstances. So instead of screaming out every insult she could think of, she smiled and opened the door to greet her unwanted visitors.
"Hello, how may I help you," she said in perfect Mandarin.
I know you understand English, Lian.
Lian sat up, startled. Who said, that? The voice sounded as though it were inside her head. Great, she thought, not only have I started a life of crime, but I'm going crazy as well. She searched the ground of eyes gathered at her stoop. Her eyes immediately fell on the blue eyes of that creepy bald guy. He was staring at her intently as though taking her apart, piece-by-piece.
Lian felt sick. Just who were these people? They moved so perfectly in sync with one another, it was like they were warriors. She could almost imagine them in armour.
"Um.Sorry.got to run," she blurted out, slamming the door behind her. She locked it as tight as she could then collapsed on the bed, panting.
Sun-Yi stared at her, wide-eyed. "What just happened?"
"I don't know and I really don't want to find out. They creep the hell out of me."
"If you're so concerned about them, why don't you do a little spy work?"
"Excuse me?"
"Mom always told to know your enemy better than you know yourself."
"Sun-Yi, that's the best idea you've had all day."
The two girls summoned the White Singer, gave her the cloak of invisibility, then ordered her to follow that group around and get information on them. Unfortunately they didn't know about Logan's sense of smell.
He sniffed. "There's someone following us," he muttered. The Professor focused his telepathic power and quickly found the White Singer. Using his telekinesis, he lifted the cloak of invisibility from the singer's head, revealing her to the fellow X-Men.
She was quite remarkable. It wasn't so much her bizarre appearance that made her remarkable, but her realness. Her white flesh had the same warmth and texture of any human.
The creature stood for a few moments staring at the Professor with her sapphire eyes. She didn't blink. Her chest heaved in and out and her breath came in flutters, the sure mark of terror. After a few minutes, she took off. The White Singer ran to Lian's trailer and banged on the door until she was let in.
Sometime while White Singer had been out spying, Lian had simply passed out. She had been talking about Ororo Munroe when she let out a gasp and drooped to the floor. It wasn't a good hard "Thud" faint like in soap operas, more like she'd just wilted.
Of course Sun-Yi panicked. Her parents had a tendency to always assume the worse and how the hell was she going to explain this to them, especially when there was no one who could back up her story.
Okay, what would Nancy Drew do, she thought. Sun-Yi loved Nancy Drew books, which was yet another thing her parents disapproved of (They called them "trash literature.) It didn't matter that Nancy Drew wasn't Shakespeare: Nancy Drew was just as smart and resourceful as any guy detective.
Then she remembered: her mom and dad kept an extensive first aid kit under the bathroom sink. Maybe they'd have smelling salts or something like that. She scrambled to the bathroom. She searched the first aid kit, tossing around various bandages and the like, when she heard a knock at the door.
It was White Singer, panicked and frightened. Sun-Yi saw she was without the cloak and immediately jumped to conclusions. "Let me guess, A) they found you out, B) they figured you out, and C) they'll be stopping by soon."
White Singer could do nothing but nod ruefully. "Crap! What am I going to do now?" Sun-Yi told White Singer to go back to where she came from, rationalizing that it was what your master would have wanted. She then went and dragged Lian onto the bed she shared with her and drew the purple curtain, which was the only barrier between their room and the rest of the trailer. She dug around in the first aid kit until she found the smelling salts. "Aha!" she shouted. She marched over to Lian and stuck the smelling salts under her nose. Sun-Yi was just feeling triumphant, having handled all this on her own when there was a knock at the door.
Her face sank. "Oh crud," she said. She already had an inkling who was at the door and she really wasn't in the mood to deal with them. But still she couldn't keep her guests waiting. Wouldn't be proper of a hostess.
She plastered her most June-Cleaver-Martha-Stewart-smile on her face. She opened the door and greeted them with such incredible sugar-sweetness that she felt herself cringe inwardly. "Oh hi, welcome to the Jiang residence. Please come in and make yourself at home. I must apologize for the small quarters: we're not the Rockefellers."
Good lord, Sun-Yi thought, I'm being perky. Crikey, did I just laugh at nothing. As soon as these people leave, I will bang my head against the wall.
"It's okay, Sun-Yi. I'll handle this," said Lian, who had just woken up. Sun-Yi sighed and mouthed "Thank you."
Lian looked at the assembled crowd. "I guess you already figured out everything, huh."
"Yes Lian. In fact I was hoping to talk to you," said the Professor.
"Oh really," She said. "You forced us to cancel several of our shows just to talk to me. Look, next time you want to talk, send a postcard and I'll be more than happy to accommodate you."
Lian smiled. It wasn't like her to say anything like that, but those outsiders rankled her in such a way. She looked up, feeling triumphant. The Professor stared back at her. Oh my god, she thought, the man is dead serious. "All right, we can chat but Sun-Yi stays," she said. That way if anything happened, there would be a witness. "Don't worry; Sun-Yi may like to talk, but she can keep a secret."
The Professor explained everything to her. The history of their organization, who was involved, everything. The more Lian listened, the more cross she felt. Why would she want to leave the only life she's ever known to join some military group? She didn't want to learn how to use her powers: she just wanted them to go away so she could go back to just plain drawing. That probably wasn't likely to happen, though. Once cursed, always cursed. "I don't know if I really want to join your group. I have my entire life here; I love what I do in the circus and want to keep doing it as long as I can. I guess I should learn to control my powers, because as much as I may pray, they're not going to go away. Couldn't I like stay with you for a few weeks after the tour wraps up?"
"I would have to talk this over with your parents, Lian," said the Professor. Lian choked. Her parents? Did this man realize just what he was dealing with? Her mind began to fill with images of gloom and doom. She could almost hear them screaming at her in Mandarin, denouncing her as part of the family, and throwing her out. It was a prospect too scary to comprehend. Oh well, worse comes to worse, she could always count on her friends. She smiled as she remembered what Sonja had told her, "The fact that you have powers doesn't change what a really cool person you are."
They were going to find out anyway. Better to have the Professor explain it. "Okay," she said, "you can talk to them, but you're going to have to wait: they're in the middle of a meeting."
The Professor left. Now she was alone in her trailer with the outsi. no the X-Men. "Um.hi," she said. Lian was never very good at beginning a conversation. "Look we kind of got off on the wrong foot so why don't we start over. My name's Lian and this is my sister Sun-Yi."
"Hi," the group responded.
"We saw your show, Sunday. We all enjoyed it," said Scott.
"How do you do that stuff?" Evan asked. "Man, that looks like it hurts."
"Well it does," Lian admitted, "but we love what we do. Mama says you have to walk on pins and needles for what you love. Look why don't we call a truce. I was wrong to just assume outsiders didn't know anything."
"Damn straight," Logan muttered.
Sun-Yi, who had been sitting quietly for the past couple minutes (a rare feat), stood up. Her small face lined with determination, she said, "We're willing to tell you everything now. Don't know how much it could help, but it couldn't hurt."
The two girls told them what they knew. The dry butcher selling tickets had seen her before the show, as did the butcher selling popcorn. Neither of them paid to much attention because she was just another customer going to see the show. Matsya said he saw her at the beginning when they were clowning around with the audience. Later after the show, a dry butcher said she purchased a couple programs from him. He was the last circus person to see her. The girls explained about Sonja and Misha searching Simone's trailer and about later using White Singer to grab her scrapbook. Then later visiting Simone in prison.
"She turned herself in," murmured Jean, "but no one got anything from her."
"The more I think about it, the more I think she had nothing to do with your friend's disappearance," said Lian.
"What do you mean?" asked Evan. Right now he hated Simone more than anything for keeping quiet about her involvement.
"It's weird, but I don't think she did it. She definitely had more than a passing knowledge of what happened, but I think that's about it as to her involvement. Sonja and Misha found all these threatening letters from this guy named Creed in her trailer. They say the letters threatened to slit her throat in the middle of the night and all sorts of horrible things," said Lian. She could hear Logan muttering various epithets under his breath and growling. "Maybe I should go fetch them; they're in this as deep as I am."
She went and fetched Sonja and Misha. Before letting them into her trailer, she filled them in on everything.
One of the things that amazed Scott was how ordinary Lian and her friends looked out of costume. Even though they could do tricks that would make Sir Isaac Newton cream himself, they looked no different from any other teenager. Misha was of average height with brown hair and eyes. Sonja had a build that was considered a classic flyer build: she was long and lean with long, spindly legs. She had blond air and bright blue eyes and this bravado about her, almost like a movie star.
"Hey, so this is the group you were talking about," said Sonja. "They look like quite a bunch."
"Guys, this is Sonja and Misha. Sonja and Misha, those are the X-Men," said Lian. She went through and introduced the members. "If you're wondering, I've already gone through and told them everything."