Chapter One
Conundrum
This is a cliché, but I felt like a kid on Christmas morning.
I spent the better part of the evening flying around Pittsburgh, tapping into abilities that I'd sworn never to use again. I was euphoric most of the night; trying out my powers gave me a rush. I was a little rusty, though - there were definitely some rough edges that needed to be smoothed out. I was fairly certain that I could get comfortable with my powers again over time, with a little bit of practice.For right now, though, I was just glad to be using them.
I stayed up until the sky turned pink in the pre-dawn hours. I made a conscious effort to remain awake that long. For me, the sun rise was symbolic of the new life that I would be starting. One where I wouldn't have to be afraid of who I am or what I could do.
I greeted the day, sitting cross-legged on the roof of my fraternity house and stared unblinking at the sun's light as it ascended the sky. Part of my power shielded me from the harmful effects of the sunlight. I could look directly into it without getting hurt. For that matter - I never needed sunglasses either.
I wish I could explain how the sun rise looks to me. I know what it looks like and how it feels to everyone else - all the colors and the warmth as this solar system's star regains the sky. But for me - it's more than just the visual. I can touch the light.I guess my powers let me see things other people don't. When I look at the sun, I can see the something akin to a rainbow. Except there are more "colors" than you would see in a normal spectrum. Each band has its own respective 'signature'. I can feel them all wrapped around me in a protective cocoon. It's like sunbathing - I can feel the light moving inside and out, through me, warming me. The energy is the most resplendent at sunrise and most aesthetically satisfying.
I returned to my room shortly after dawn. A sort of tense excitement had kept me going most of the night, but I realized I was exhausted when I flew those last few feet from the roof back to my bedroom. Luckily, the sudden draft of the window opening didn't wake my roommate. I set down on the bed and crawled under the covers and was asleep as soon as I closed my eyes.
* * * * *
My roommate was gone by the time I got up. I swung my legs over the edge of the top bunk and floated gently down to the ground. Once more land bound, I stretched languorously. I was sore in places that I hadn't realized could get sore and my head ached dully. I theorized that it was probably from using my powers, accessing areas of my brain that were atrophied from four years of disuse. Nevertheless, I refused to let a few aches and pains get me down.
I got a bottle of juice out of the small refrigerator we kept in our room and plopped into a chair. I clicked on the TV, flipping through several channels, finally settling on a soap opera. I stared mindlessly at the screen while I contemplated my recent actions. I'd never told anyone what I could do. Well, not anyone in America, anyway. I couldn't trust anyone with that kind of information. The general public hated mutants simply for existing. I imagined that being both black and a being a mutant meant there were two strikes against me. I drained the bottle of juice and stared at the empty container as if it held the answers to all my questions.
I'd opened Pandora's box by consciously deciding to use my powers again. And I felt like I'd just scratched the surface. I wondered if maybe some of my powers had disappeared or weakened.Who knows what's happened to them in four years? Last night I hadn't really focused on doing anything specific. I hadn't really thought that far ahead.Mostly I'd just enjoyed myself. But now, I was curious. What if I had lost some of my power? What then? It seemed logical that disuse of my abilities would make them wane, and that I'd have to work really hard just to get them back to where they were before my Europe trip.
Perfect practice makes perfect, a former voice instructor of mine used to say. And there's no time like the present. I did a quick 'scan' of the building to see who was around. When I 'scanned' something per say, like the fraternity house, I got mental images of what was happening around me. It's sort of like having a camera crew anywhere and everywhere you wanted to see something. I just thought about the region I wanted to view and - Presto! I could see what was going on. The few fraternity brothers left in the house this morning were sleeping. I felt reasonably sure that I could practice in relative safety, but I'd keep an eye out anyway. I shoved the images back down, knowing they'd be there when I wanted them again.
I pushed on my power center - that place in my head or wherever, that let me access my abilities - and began to summon basketball sized light spheres into being. I got up to six, which had been my limit when I was 15. I ordered them around the room, forcing them to whirl around at dizzying speeds, making them change colors at varying frequencies. I had a pretty fair light show going when I felt a familiar buzz in the back of my skull. I focused my radar sense on the world outside of my room and saw Andy coming up the short flight of stairs to the second floor where I our room was.
Damnit! I almost panicked but then forced myself to be calm. My roommate was far enough away that I could dissipate everything in an orderly manner and climb back into bed. By the time I was safe under the covers, my roommate was unlocking the door and walking inside. I feigned sleep while he threw his bag on the ground and sat down at his desk. However, the close call and the excitement that had kept me going were rapidly wearing off. I didn't have to pretend to be asleep for long.
* * * * *
I woke hours later, more refreshed that I'd felt in a long time. I struggled for a moment, trying to figure out why I'd been roused from such a good sleep. The phone rang again, answering my question.
I sat up, shedding my bed covers as I ID'd my impromptu alarm clock. I floated down to hover over the desk, then picked up the cordless with one hand. I pressed the 'Talk' button while I lifted myself back to the bed.
"Hello," I said sleepily, stifling a yawn.
"This is Professor Charles Xavier to speak with Mr. Clayton Darkmoon," an authoritative voice replied. "Is he available?"
"Speaking," I replied, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. I searched my mind for an recollection of a Professor Xavier, but drew a blank. "How are you today?" I asked politely.
"I am fine, thank you," he stated civilly. "And yourself, young man?"
"I'm a little tired, actually. But doing well nonetheless." And I'm making small talk with a complete stranger, I reminded myself after a moment. Obviously out of my gourd.
"Excellent," he said. It sounded perfunctory to me, but I stifled a sarcastic remark. "Mr. Darkmoon, I am the Headmaster of an exclusive school in New York. One that offers special programs to exceptionally talented youths, like yourself." I suddenly got the distinct feeling I was talking to some sort of brochure salesman while he began to rattle off the virtues of his supposed school. "I've taken the time to review your academic record and at this time would like to set up an interview with you," he was saying.
"I see," I said after a moment. "Well, Professor, I'm already enrolled in school." As he would know if he really had looked at my record.
"Which I am aware of, Mr. Darkmoon. However, The School for Gifted Youngsters here in New York does offer a wide assortment of collegiate courses as well as several other programs that may interest you. We are accredited," he said. Right before I'd had a chance to ask.
"I see," I said again.
"Some of my students and I are planning on being in the Pittsburgh area tomorrow. I would greatly appreciate the opportunity to sit down with you and discuss, at length, the nature of the scholastic programs we have to offer. I can assure you that this will be a very productive use of your time."
"Okay," I agreed, without thinking. This guy has me completely off- balance. I kicked myself for my inability to counter his arguments effectively.
"Excellent," he said. I could almost envision a satisfied smirk on his face. He proceeded to detail his travel arrangements - arrival time at the airport, and then our rendezvous on campus. The interview would be conducted over dinner - I selected the restaurant on the spot. We mapped out all the formalities - or rather - he stated the terms and I agreed again and again. "If you would like, you may speak with a student of mine, to provide a different perspective," he offered at the end.
"Um.that would be acceptable," I stated, trying to salvage some of my adulthood.
"Please hold," he said. I waited patiently, pulling my blanket around me. It was more a gesture of security than warmth. I could generate my own heat.
"Hello," a female voice said shortly. Her voice was low, with an accent that was all too familiar. I immediately felt more comfortable with than I had with anyone in a long time.
"Hello," I replied warmly.
"I am Ororo. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance," she said agreeably.
"I'm Tres. The pleasure is all mine," I stated in the most chivalrous tone I could muster.
"Professor Xavier informs me that we will be visiting you tomorrow," she said.
"Yes. Conducting an interview," I said. Of sorts, anyway. I hope it goes better than the phone conversation we just had.
"You are an engineer?" Ororo asked.
"Yes. Chemical." The gossip wheel was grinding on me already, I thought. But I kept my smart-aleck comment to myself.
"What year?" she said.
"Junior. I graduate in another three semesters," I said proudly.
"And what are your plans after graduation?" she said with interest.
"Well - I'm thinking about grad school," I said. I began to gently give off heat, warming myself. "But I'm not sure yet. I am thinking about getting my Ph. D., and then heading out into the work force. But I've got a year to decide what I'm going to do. I may just get a job after I graduate."
"Have you decided which schools you would like to apply to?"
I pondered briefly. "Well, definitely Stanford, maybe Cornell, and probably M.I.T.. If I went to M.I.T., I've already got my advisor picked out," I prattled on. That opened up the discussion on why I was going for more education, where I would work after school, and what I wanted to do in life. There was a slight pause after I finished telling her some of my long-term goals. Ororo asked detailed questions in an unassuming way and was very adept at getting information while maintaining a light conversational tone. All in all, a very thorough spy.
"So - you enjoy the school?" I asked. Now it was my time to fire off the questions.
"Very much so," she replied sincerely.
"Are there a lot of other students?" I asked.
"No. This institution is devoted to a very specific sect of society. Admission is by invitation only," she said.
"Oh." Sounds elitist. Just my style, I thought with a smug half-smile. "How long have you attended?"
"Several years," she replied. There was a momentary pause and a . . . sigh? I sensed we were delving into an uncomfortable area. "Well - what kind of facilities do you all have?" I asked, turning the conversation towards the facts.
"Xavier's School has an Olympic size pool, a gymnasium, a lake, an infirmary," she listed right off the bat. "We are quite close to Salem Center, New York. Have you ever been?"
I said 'No' to both. I'd never really been to New York - certainly not at an age where I could appreciate it. "Who will be coming with Professor Xavier to Pittsburgh," I asked.
"I will be attending," she said. "Piotr will also be present," she said.
"Piotr?" I sounded out strange name.
"Yes." I could sense her mirth through the phone. "Piotr or Peter - the American version of his name. He is Russian."
"Ah," I replied. There was a short pause while I digested the information. I couldn't think of anything to ask her and - looking at the clock - I'd been on the phone for almost an hour. Even mutants have to go to class some time. "Well.I guess I should get off this phone. I'll see you tomorrow, Ororo. Thank you for taking the time to talk with me."
"You're quite welcome, Tres," she said. "If you have further questions, please feel free to ask Peter or myself, tomorrow," she said.
"I certainly will," I promised. I'd probably show up to the interview with a list. "Have a good night."
"And you as well," she said. "Goodbye."
"'Bye," I said, before hanging up the phone. I floated over to my desk and lay it down. What had I gotten myself into?
* * * * *
The day fairly flew by after I'd spoken to Professor Xavier and Ororo. I had some studying to do - Physical Chemistry. Finals were right around the corner. So I sequestered myself off in the library for a few hours. At least until it was dark enough for me to go out and experiment with my powers again. This time, I'd used them a little more aggressively than I had last night.
I wish I could say I was disciplined enough to get a sufficient amount of work done. That night I was fairly distracted - what with my re- discovered powers and the interview tomorrow. I managed to drag myself through my work, doing a patchwork job on the studying. It was close to 9 by the time I'd decided I was through with studying and working. I'd had enough waiting. I'd much rather be out and about, than cooped up in the library with the other bookworms. It didn't take long to pack everything up and head back to my room. I changed into my face-revealing "costume" and prepared for the festivities.
Tonight, I flew from my room to the Cathedral of Learning. It was about a mile away, a distance I covered in less than a blink of the eye. Literally. It was quite cold out, by now, especially hundreds of feet above the city. In December, in Pittsburgh - I should have been freezing, I reminded myself. But I wasn't. I surrounded myself in a warm cocoon, glowing slightly around my black ensemble.
It seemed to me that my powers had grown. Now that I had released them - or rather - that I was expressing them, I was becoming more and more aware of what I could do. Was it like that for every mutant? Do we all just know what we can do? It felt like a part of me was slowly becoming awake after hibernating. Like I was lucid of . . . something. It was just . . . odd. Knowing you could do something before you could do it. What all could I do?
I 'scanned' the ground beneath me. There were people below me so I didn't even think about trying the same cannonball stunt I'd done last night. This time, I lifted off the building and flew around the city. I wanted some place to practice where I wouldn't attract to much attention. I considered myself very lucky not to have aroused the attention of anyone with that sunburst last night. I shrugged to myself. "Oh well. What were they going to do? Lock me up? Far lot of good that would do." I smiled.
I completed a slow barrel roll in the air, arms extended out in front of me. I flew with my arms out in front of me for balance. It helped me remain stable while I was airborne. To me it was analogous to swinging your arms when you walk. Try walking while holding your arms pinned to your side. It's just unnatural. By the same token, so was trying to fly with your hands down.
I made my way towards a run down part of the city. I needed to be in a section where there weren't going to be any people at all, in case my overzealous nature took over. I scouted around for a few moments before I found a street that had been targeted as a future site for a demolition crew. One building that was still in fairly good shape had several condemned signs. I selected that one as my new "playground".
I touched down on the roof, hardly making a sound. I scanned the area to see if anyone was around before melting a hole in the ceiling with a bolt of white energy. Yeah - I know - it was a gross abuse of my power. But the way I see it, the building was already condemned. Not like it wasn't going to get torn down anyway.
I dropped gently through the new skylight and landed on the floor. It was a moonlit night, and I could see fairly well outside, but it was pitch black inside. Nevertheless I could see as easily as if it were day. I guess it was part of my mutant nature that I was not only shielded from excessive light, that I could see in almost absolute darkness. While I denied myself active uses of my powers, things like that I could not turn on and off as I chose. So I had adapted to it over the years. Now I took it for granted.
I could make out the abandoned desks and chairs in what used to be an old office building, the broken down water cooler in the corner. Every detail, every object - I could see them all in the dark. But, I could also create light and did so. Four glowing white globes appeared out of thin air. Each was about the size of a beach ball and brightened the large room considerably.
Creating light was something I had done years ago, when my mutant nature first manifested myself. That, along with my flight, 'scanning', and heat generation were things that just came naturally. But that was four years ago. Now I've grown up some, and my powers have too. That sunburst was a prime example. I'd never been able to light up a whole city before. And that glow had lit up all of Pittsburgh, even if it had lasted only a second.
Maybe it was because of.I shuddered to think of that particular scenario or the monster responsible for it. However, I couldn't deny that it might have something to do with my power increase. I pushed that thought aside and concentrated on "working out".
Unfortunately, I wasn't the only occupant that night. Even as I was settling into the room, I heard scratching. I didn't have time to think about why that noise sounded familiar as tiny clawed feet began to move across the floor. The sudden light scared several of the previous denizens of the building - the rats. One of them ran right by me. Crud - that really freaked me out!
I glared at the foul thing, angry and startled because it was so close. I 'tracked' a straggling rodent as it scampered across the room towards a hole, my eyes narrowed slits. And then again, I felt the tingling sensation in the back of my head.
Twin beams of light leapt forth from my eyes, catching the rodent in the back. The little furball exploded in fire. It stopped moving and collapsed to the floor, dead. The fire died quickly as it consumed the rat, leaving the charred remains. All this takes a long time to describe, but in reality it lasted less than a second.
My disgust quickly gave way to astonishment. Even the fact that I had killed another living thing didn't startle me as much as the method by which it had died. Rats are disgusting anyway, I thought as I crossed the room to examine the small pile of ashes.
Sheesh - look at what I can do! I thought, elated. I looked across the room, and 'glared' at a desk. I concentrated a moment and was rewarded by another laser, this time burning a small hole in an old desk, about the size of a dime. I tried the stunt again, this time, going for a larger area of influence. The beams widened, encompassing two fist sized areas in the wall, leaving gaping holes in the bricks.
I spent a few more minutes, using my eyes to score dozens of holes in several targets. I quickly found that I could control the intensity and the surface area of the beams. I'd never channeled my powers through my sight before.it was unusual. All that 'glaring' though, left me feeling slightly drained and dizzy. I sat down in a chair with no back and rested briefly.
I took a couple of deep steadying breaths and began to sum up what I had done, wondering what else it was I could do. I hadn't consciously tried to access new aspects of my abilities. My powers seemed like they were there when I needed them, so it made me wonder what else lay in store for me. I never set out to burn that rat to the ground with my power. But it did give me another way to use my abilities.
All this power.and nothing to use it for. What would I do with them for anyway? Superheroing? Rescuing cats from trees? Stopping criminals from robbing banks? What? I snickered to myself. Better to worry about how not to use it, like burning vermin in their tracks.
My gaze fell upon one of the light-spheres that hovered in the corner. I summoned it to my side for closer study. I could put my hand on it, and through it, like it wasn't even there. I only felt a slight warmth as I touched it. I concentrated and forced it to expand until it was 6 feet in diameter. Then I re-arranged the shape until it was an ellipsis. I made it bend in half and re-form into a cube. I soon tired of that though, and looked around the room, letting my mind wander.
* * * * *
Charles Xavier was up late. Again. He was still pouring over the results from Cerebro's analysis of mutant X's abilities. The analytical program it had run had determined numerous genetic compatibilities with a variety of mutants. Cerebro automatically categorized all super-powered beings it came across in its constant search for neo-mutants. Storing the data in its computer banks, it ran comparative diagnostics to determine if a new mutant's abilities were similar to those already catalogued. Cerebro also assessed the neo-mutants power level and attempted to chart his or her potential. It was a print out of this analysis that Xavier held in his hands now and studied speculatively.
His primary concern was the level of power that had been attributed to the young man. Cerebro had projected the original power level of the new mutant to be high-Alpha class with the potential to outstrip nearly all the current mutanogenic signatures on the planet. At any age, too much power could be intoxicating, but at this adolescent phase, it could be devastating. Not only endangering the life of the young mutant, but that of the entire world. Charles tried to imagine a planet where his old friend Magnus passed along the Nietzche-like teachings to a young impressionable mind. Especially one with this considerable amount of raw power at his disposal. The mentor of the X-Men suppressed a shiver while he continued to regard the data.
He turned his scrutiny upon the list of four names that comprised comparable energy signatures and their statistical probability of comparability. First on the list was the neo-mutant Dazzler, Alison Blaire, whom they had encountered recently. 2% positive identification. She was followed by Mastermind, Jason Wyngarde, 1% similarity. Finally, listed in a category entitled, Ability Employment, were Jean Grey and Erik Lensherr Magnus. Xavier pushed aside a stray thought that both Jean and Erik were poignant reminders of how much corruption absolute power could cause. He swore to himself that he would not allow such failures to happen. Not this time. And never again.
He reproached himself for digressing and scratched his chin in thought. It was late and his mind was wandering as fatigue set in. Still he forced himself to focus on the task at hand. He knew he was not too far away from understanding Mr. Darkmoon's abilities. In dealing with neo-mutants, Xavier found it necessary to be prepared for any eventuality. There was no telling how his offer of enrollment would be received. And considering their recent conflicts with the Inner Circle of the Hellfire Club, he had no way of know what sort of situation he and the X-Men might find themselves. Back to the task, Xavier, he reminded himself.
Mutants were a rarity and the percentage of mutants exhibiting omega class potential were infinitesimal. What concerned him the most was the combination of the power level and the comparison of the neo-mutant to both Phoenix and Magneto. For the new mutant to be in a category with them, in terms of ability employment, meant that he had the psionic ability with an affinity for a particular type of energy carrier. Now considering the list of mutants Dazzler and Mastermind, Clayton Darkmoon was most likely not a pure psi, i.e. not a psychokinetic. Otherwise, only the Phoenix - Jean Grey - would have been listed.
He sighed, contemplating the puzzle. With Cerebro able to ascertain less than 50% compatibility, there were a lot of things that mutant X could potentially do that were unknown to his computer's memory banks. And the list of talents that it did have that seemed to match were what? What was the commonality? He slammed his fist in frustration and pushed his wheel chair backwards away from his paper-strewn desk.
Normally he enjoyed the challenge of trying to understand a new mutant's powers. It was this understanding that made him the perfect mentor for the X-Men. He could help guide or coach the team by teaching them how to better comprehend their own powers and pushing their limits for the good of mankind. But if he couldn't understand how they worked, he wouldn't be able to properly counsel them. Or develop countermeasures to said powers, should the need arise.
Xavier turned his tired gaze upon the lamp, as if it held the answer to all his questions. Everything was a jumble. Images of Alison and Jean tumbled throughout his head battling Magneto and Mastermind. Fire lit the sky, brilliant patterns of lights, metal re-shaping itself, illusions.
Both Magnus and Grey employed psionic energies to manipulate carrier particles. In the case of Magneto, these particles were magnetic-field specific. In the case of Phoenix, her carriers were pure-psi, not confined to a physicality. Which led him to believe that Darkmoon's powers were most likely confined to a unique physical carrier, but with such a broad specification . . . Xavier looked at the lamp once more as realization began to dawn on him. Like a photon.
Xavier experienced an epiphany. Excitement roused him to full wakeness. Assuming that the physical carrier was a photon, that meant that Clayton could possibly manipulate the entire electromagnetic spectrum - which would explain the correlation to Dazzler and Mastermind. Both of the them utilized abilities that dealt with small parts of the EM spectrum. Supposing that Mr. Darkmoon was able to manipulate all the myriad forms of light, from cosmics rays to radio waves.? That would account for the relatively small percentage of comparable energy signatures of the other two mutants. However.that meant he was quite powerful indeed. And being new to his abilities meant that there was still room to grow.
Light-based powers.Xavier mused. He wondered how much the young man had accomplished himself and what he had done with his abilities. Further, he wondered if he were correct in his hypothesis at all? He shook his head dispelling the thoughts and decided to focus on his assessment of the psychological state of Mr. Clayton Darkmoon, III.
Their conversation had served a dual purpose. One to set up the interview for tomorrow so that he could introduce the young man to other mutants - people like himself with special abilities. The secondary objective was a little more nefarious, but a necessity. He needed to gauge the psychological health of the candidate. God help us all should any other mutant - let alone ones like Jean, Erik, or Clayton - be driven insane by their power, or have developed some malicious plan to wreak havoc upon the world.
Clayton seemed quite at ease with himself, somewhat headstrong and overconfident. But not maligned towards anyone or anything. Ororo had concurred with this assessment. "He was quite pleasant to talk to," she'd said. "An absolute gentleman." She'd started to say something more, but held her tongue. And for once, Charles had not pressed, either verbally or telepathically. Something about the exchange had captured the young woman's attention.He wished he'd asked her, but it was late, and he wasn't going to wake her over a minor point. The team needed their rest for tomorrow's trip.
Xavier organized his thoughts again and settled down for his least favorite part - transcribing his thoughts to notes to be filed for later. It was going to be another long night - as too many had been of late.
* * * * *
This story © 2001 Sherman L Taylor, II
Clayton "Tres" Darkmoon © 2001 Sherman L Taylor, II
The X-Men, Professor Charles Xavier, and all constituent
characters © 2001 Marvel Comics Group.
This story is not for sale and is not to be distributed without
permission of the author.
Please electronically mail comments to CommanderInChf@aol.com.
All constructive criticism is appreciated.
Conundrum
This is a cliché, but I felt like a kid on Christmas morning.
I spent the better part of the evening flying around Pittsburgh, tapping into abilities that I'd sworn never to use again. I was euphoric most of the night; trying out my powers gave me a rush. I was a little rusty, though - there were definitely some rough edges that needed to be smoothed out. I was fairly certain that I could get comfortable with my powers again over time, with a little bit of practice.For right now, though, I was just glad to be using them.
I stayed up until the sky turned pink in the pre-dawn hours. I made a conscious effort to remain awake that long. For me, the sun rise was symbolic of the new life that I would be starting. One where I wouldn't have to be afraid of who I am or what I could do.
I greeted the day, sitting cross-legged on the roof of my fraternity house and stared unblinking at the sun's light as it ascended the sky. Part of my power shielded me from the harmful effects of the sunlight. I could look directly into it without getting hurt. For that matter - I never needed sunglasses either.
I wish I could explain how the sun rise looks to me. I know what it looks like and how it feels to everyone else - all the colors and the warmth as this solar system's star regains the sky. But for me - it's more than just the visual. I can touch the light.I guess my powers let me see things other people don't. When I look at the sun, I can see the something akin to a rainbow. Except there are more "colors" than you would see in a normal spectrum. Each band has its own respective 'signature'. I can feel them all wrapped around me in a protective cocoon. It's like sunbathing - I can feel the light moving inside and out, through me, warming me. The energy is the most resplendent at sunrise and most aesthetically satisfying.
I returned to my room shortly after dawn. A sort of tense excitement had kept me going most of the night, but I realized I was exhausted when I flew those last few feet from the roof back to my bedroom. Luckily, the sudden draft of the window opening didn't wake my roommate. I set down on the bed and crawled under the covers and was asleep as soon as I closed my eyes.
* * * * *
My roommate was gone by the time I got up. I swung my legs over the edge of the top bunk and floated gently down to the ground. Once more land bound, I stretched languorously. I was sore in places that I hadn't realized could get sore and my head ached dully. I theorized that it was probably from using my powers, accessing areas of my brain that were atrophied from four years of disuse. Nevertheless, I refused to let a few aches and pains get me down.
I got a bottle of juice out of the small refrigerator we kept in our room and plopped into a chair. I clicked on the TV, flipping through several channels, finally settling on a soap opera. I stared mindlessly at the screen while I contemplated my recent actions. I'd never told anyone what I could do. Well, not anyone in America, anyway. I couldn't trust anyone with that kind of information. The general public hated mutants simply for existing. I imagined that being both black and a being a mutant meant there were two strikes against me. I drained the bottle of juice and stared at the empty container as if it held the answers to all my questions.
I'd opened Pandora's box by consciously deciding to use my powers again. And I felt like I'd just scratched the surface. I wondered if maybe some of my powers had disappeared or weakened.Who knows what's happened to them in four years? Last night I hadn't really focused on doing anything specific. I hadn't really thought that far ahead.Mostly I'd just enjoyed myself. But now, I was curious. What if I had lost some of my power? What then? It seemed logical that disuse of my abilities would make them wane, and that I'd have to work really hard just to get them back to where they were before my Europe trip.
Perfect practice makes perfect, a former voice instructor of mine used to say. And there's no time like the present. I did a quick 'scan' of the building to see who was around. When I 'scanned' something per say, like the fraternity house, I got mental images of what was happening around me. It's sort of like having a camera crew anywhere and everywhere you wanted to see something. I just thought about the region I wanted to view and - Presto! I could see what was going on. The few fraternity brothers left in the house this morning were sleeping. I felt reasonably sure that I could practice in relative safety, but I'd keep an eye out anyway. I shoved the images back down, knowing they'd be there when I wanted them again.
I pushed on my power center - that place in my head or wherever, that let me access my abilities - and began to summon basketball sized light spheres into being. I got up to six, which had been my limit when I was 15. I ordered them around the room, forcing them to whirl around at dizzying speeds, making them change colors at varying frequencies. I had a pretty fair light show going when I felt a familiar buzz in the back of my skull. I focused my radar sense on the world outside of my room and saw Andy coming up the short flight of stairs to the second floor where I our room was.
Damnit! I almost panicked but then forced myself to be calm. My roommate was far enough away that I could dissipate everything in an orderly manner and climb back into bed. By the time I was safe under the covers, my roommate was unlocking the door and walking inside. I feigned sleep while he threw his bag on the ground and sat down at his desk. However, the close call and the excitement that had kept me going were rapidly wearing off. I didn't have to pretend to be asleep for long.
* * * * *
I woke hours later, more refreshed that I'd felt in a long time. I struggled for a moment, trying to figure out why I'd been roused from such a good sleep. The phone rang again, answering my question.
I sat up, shedding my bed covers as I ID'd my impromptu alarm clock. I floated down to hover over the desk, then picked up the cordless with one hand. I pressed the 'Talk' button while I lifted myself back to the bed.
"Hello," I said sleepily, stifling a yawn.
"This is Professor Charles Xavier to speak with Mr. Clayton Darkmoon," an authoritative voice replied. "Is he available?"
"Speaking," I replied, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. I searched my mind for an recollection of a Professor Xavier, but drew a blank. "How are you today?" I asked politely.
"I am fine, thank you," he stated civilly. "And yourself, young man?"
"I'm a little tired, actually. But doing well nonetheless." And I'm making small talk with a complete stranger, I reminded myself after a moment. Obviously out of my gourd.
"Excellent," he said. It sounded perfunctory to me, but I stifled a sarcastic remark. "Mr. Darkmoon, I am the Headmaster of an exclusive school in New York. One that offers special programs to exceptionally talented youths, like yourself." I suddenly got the distinct feeling I was talking to some sort of brochure salesman while he began to rattle off the virtues of his supposed school. "I've taken the time to review your academic record and at this time would like to set up an interview with you," he was saying.
"I see," I said after a moment. "Well, Professor, I'm already enrolled in school." As he would know if he really had looked at my record.
"Which I am aware of, Mr. Darkmoon. However, The School for Gifted Youngsters here in New York does offer a wide assortment of collegiate courses as well as several other programs that may interest you. We are accredited," he said. Right before I'd had a chance to ask.
"I see," I said again.
"Some of my students and I are planning on being in the Pittsburgh area tomorrow. I would greatly appreciate the opportunity to sit down with you and discuss, at length, the nature of the scholastic programs we have to offer. I can assure you that this will be a very productive use of your time."
"Okay," I agreed, without thinking. This guy has me completely off- balance. I kicked myself for my inability to counter his arguments effectively.
"Excellent," he said. I could almost envision a satisfied smirk on his face. He proceeded to detail his travel arrangements - arrival time at the airport, and then our rendezvous on campus. The interview would be conducted over dinner - I selected the restaurant on the spot. We mapped out all the formalities - or rather - he stated the terms and I agreed again and again. "If you would like, you may speak with a student of mine, to provide a different perspective," he offered at the end.
"Um.that would be acceptable," I stated, trying to salvage some of my adulthood.
"Please hold," he said. I waited patiently, pulling my blanket around me. It was more a gesture of security than warmth. I could generate my own heat.
"Hello," a female voice said shortly. Her voice was low, with an accent that was all too familiar. I immediately felt more comfortable with than I had with anyone in a long time.
"Hello," I replied warmly.
"I am Ororo. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance," she said agreeably.
"I'm Tres. The pleasure is all mine," I stated in the most chivalrous tone I could muster.
"Professor Xavier informs me that we will be visiting you tomorrow," she said.
"Yes. Conducting an interview," I said. Of sorts, anyway. I hope it goes better than the phone conversation we just had.
"You are an engineer?" Ororo asked.
"Yes. Chemical." The gossip wheel was grinding on me already, I thought. But I kept my smart-aleck comment to myself.
"What year?" she said.
"Junior. I graduate in another three semesters," I said proudly.
"And what are your plans after graduation?" she said with interest.
"Well - I'm thinking about grad school," I said. I began to gently give off heat, warming myself. "But I'm not sure yet. I am thinking about getting my Ph. D., and then heading out into the work force. But I've got a year to decide what I'm going to do. I may just get a job after I graduate."
"Have you decided which schools you would like to apply to?"
I pondered briefly. "Well, definitely Stanford, maybe Cornell, and probably M.I.T.. If I went to M.I.T., I've already got my advisor picked out," I prattled on. That opened up the discussion on why I was going for more education, where I would work after school, and what I wanted to do in life. There was a slight pause after I finished telling her some of my long-term goals. Ororo asked detailed questions in an unassuming way and was very adept at getting information while maintaining a light conversational tone. All in all, a very thorough spy.
"So - you enjoy the school?" I asked. Now it was my time to fire off the questions.
"Very much so," she replied sincerely.
"Are there a lot of other students?" I asked.
"No. This institution is devoted to a very specific sect of society. Admission is by invitation only," she said.
"Oh." Sounds elitist. Just my style, I thought with a smug half-smile. "How long have you attended?"
"Several years," she replied. There was a momentary pause and a . . . sigh? I sensed we were delving into an uncomfortable area. "Well - what kind of facilities do you all have?" I asked, turning the conversation towards the facts.
"Xavier's School has an Olympic size pool, a gymnasium, a lake, an infirmary," she listed right off the bat. "We are quite close to Salem Center, New York. Have you ever been?"
I said 'No' to both. I'd never really been to New York - certainly not at an age where I could appreciate it. "Who will be coming with Professor Xavier to Pittsburgh," I asked.
"I will be attending," she said. "Piotr will also be present," she said.
"Piotr?" I sounded out strange name.
"Yes." I could sense her mirth through the phone. "Piotr or Peter - the American version of his name. He is Russian."
"Ah," I replied. There was a short pause while I digested the information. I couldn't think of anything to ask her and - looking at the clock - I'd been on the phone for almost an hour. Even mutants have to go to class some time. "Well.I guess I should get off this phone. I'll see you tomorrow, Ororo. Thank you for taking the time to talk with me."
"You're quite welcome, Tres," she said. "If you have further questions, please feel free to ask Peter or myself, tomorrow," she said.
"I certainly will," I promised. I'd probably show up to the interview with a list. "Have a good night."
"And you as well," she said. "Goodbye."
"'Bye," I said, before hanging up the phone. I floated over to my desk and lay it down. What had I gotten myself into?
* * * * *
The day fairly flew by after I'd spoken to Professor Xavier and Ororo. I had some studying to do - Physical Chemistry. Finals were right around the corner. So I sequestered myself off in the library for a few hours. At least until it was dark enough for me to go out and experiment with my powers again. This time, I'd used them a little more aggressively than I had last night.
I wish I could say I was disciplined enough to get a sufficient amount of work done. That night I was fairly distracted - what with my re- discovered powers and the interview tomorrow. I managed to drag myself through my work, doing a patchwork job on the studying. It was close to 9 by the time I'd decided I was through with studying and working. I'd had enough waiting. I'd much rather be out and about, than cooped up in the library with the other bookworms. It didn't take long to pack everything up and head back to my room. I changed into my face-revealing "costume" and prepared for the festivities.
Tonight, I flew from my room to the Cathedral of Learning. It was about a mile away, a distance I covered in less than a blink of the eye. Literally. It was quite cold out, by now, especially hundreds of feet above the city. In December, in Pittsburgh - I should have been freezing, I reminded myself. But I wasn't. I surrounded myself in a warm cocoon, glowing slightly around my black ensemble.
It seemed to me that my powers had grown. Now that I had released them - or rather - that I was expressing them, I was becoming more and more aware of what I could do. Was it like that for every mutant? Do we all just know what we can do? It felt like a part of me was slowly becoming awake after hibernating. Like I was lucid of . . . something. It was just . . . odd. Knowing you could do something before you could do it. What all could I do?
I 'scanned' the ground beneath me. There were people below me so I didn't even think about trying the same cannonball stunt I'd done last night. This time, I lifted off the building and flew around the city. I wanted some place to practice where I wouldn't attract to much attention. I considered myself very lucky not to have aroused the attention of anyone with that sunburst last night. I shrugged to myself. "Oh well. What were they going to do? Lock me up? Far lot of good that would do." I smiled.
I completed a slow barrel roll in the air, arms extended out in front of me. I flew with my arms out in front of me for balance. It helped me remain stable while I was airborne. To me it was analogous to swinging your arms when you walk. Try walking while holding your arms pinned to your side. It's just unnatural. By the same token, so was trying to fly with your hands down.
I made my way towards a run down part of the city. I needed to be in a section where there weren't going to be any people at all, in case my overzealous nature took over. I scouted around for a few moments before I found a street that had been targeted as a future site for a demolition crew. One building that was still in fairly good shape had several condemned signs. I selected that one as my new "playground".
I touched down on the roof, hardly making a sound. I scanned the area to see if anyone was around before melting a hole in the ceiling with a bolt of white energy. Yeah - I know - it was a gross abuse of my power. But the way I see it, the building was already condemned. Not like it wasn't going to get torn down anyway.
I dropped gently through the new skylight and landed on the floor. It was a moonlit night, and I could see fairly well outside, but it was pitch black inside. Nevertheless I could see as easily as if it were day. I guess it was part of my mutant nature that I was not only shielded from excessive light, that I could see in almost absolute darkness. While I denied myself active uses of my powers, things like that I could not turn on and off as I chose. So I had adapted to it over the years. Now I took it for granted.
I could make out the abandoned desks and chairs in what used to be an old office building, the broken down water cooler in the corner. Every detail, every object - I could see them all in the dark. But, I could also create light and did so. Four glowing white globes appeared out of thin air. Each was about the size of a beach ball and brightened the large room considerably.
Creating light was something I had done years ago, when my mutant nature first manifested myself. That, along with my flight, 'scanning', and heat generation were things that just came naturally. But that was four years ago. Now I've grown up some, and my powers have too. That sunburst was a prime example. I'd never been able to light up a whole city before. And that glow had lit up all of Pittsburgh, even if it had lasted only a second.
Maybe it was because of.I shuddered to think of that particular scenario or the monster responsible for it. However, I couldn't deny that it might have something to do with my power increase. I pushed that thought aside and concentrated on "working out".
Unfortunately, I wasn't the only occupant that night. Even as I was settling into the room, I heard scratching. I didn't have time to think about why that noise sounded familiar as tiny clawed feet began to move across the floor. The sudden light scared several of the previous denizens of the building - the rats. One of them ran right by me. Crud - that really freaked me out!
I glared at the foul thing, angry and startled because it was so close. I 'tracked' a straggling rodent as it scampered across the room towards a hole, my eyes narrowed slits. And then again, I felt the tingling sensation in the back of my head.
Twin beams of light leapt forth from my eyes, catching the rodent in the back. The little furball exploded in fire. It stopped moving and collapsed to the floor, dead. The fire died quickly as it consumed the rat, leaving the charred remains. All this takes a long time to describe, but in reality it lasted less than a second.
My disgust quickly gave way to astonishment. Even the fact that I had killed another living thing didn't startle me as much as the method by which it had died. Rats are disgusting anyway, I thought as I crossed the room to examine the small pile of ashes.
Sheesh - look at what I can do! I thought, elated. I looked across the room, and 'glared' at a desk. I concentrated a moment and was rewarded by another laser, this time burning a small hole in an old desk, about the size of a dime. I tried the stunt again, this time, going for a larger area of influence. The beams widened, encompassing two fist sized areas in the wall, leaving gaping holes in the bricks.
I spent a few more minutes, using my eyes to score dozens of holes in several targets. I quickly found that I could control the intensity and the surface area of the beams. I'd never channeled my powers through my sight before.it was unusual. All that 'glaring' though, left me feeling slightly drained and dizzy. I sat down in a chair with no back and rested briefly.
I took a couple of deep steadying breaths and began to sum up what I had done, wondering what else it was I could do. I hadn't consciously tried to access new aspects of my abilities. My powers seemed like they were there when I needed them, so it made me wonder what else lay in store for me. I never set out to burn that rat to the ground with my power. But it did give me another way to use my abilities.
All this power.and nothing to use it for. What would I do with them for anyway? Superheroing? Rescuing cats from trees? Stopping criminals from robbing banks? What? I snickered to myself. Better to worry about how not to use it, like burning vermin in their tracks.
My gaze fell upon one of the light-spheres that hovered in the corner. I summoned it to my side for closer study. I could put my hand on it, and through it, like it wasn't even there. I only felt a slight warmth as I touched it. I concentrated and forced it to expand until it was 6 feet in diameter. Then I re-arranged the shape until it was an ellipsis. I made it bend in half and re-form into a cube. I soon tired of that though, and looked around the room, letting my mind wander.
* * * * *
Charles Xavier was up late. Again. He was still pouring over the results from Cerebro's analysis of mutant X's abilities. The analytical program it had run had determined numerous genetic compatibilities with a variety of mutants. Cerebro automatically categorized all super-powered beings it came across in its constant search for neo-mutants. Storing the data in its computer banks, it ran comparative diagnostics to determine if a new mutant's abilities were similar to those already catalogued. Cerebro also assessed the neo-mutants power level and attempted to chart his or her potential. It was a print out of this analysis that Xavier held in his hands now and studied speculatively.
His primary concern was the level of power that had been attributed to the young man. Cerebro had projected the original power level of the new mutant to be high-Alpha class with the potential to outstrip nearly all the current mutanogenic signatures on the planet. At any age, too much power could be intoxicating, but at this adolescent phase, it could be devastating. Not only endangering the life of the young mutant, but that of the entire world. Charles tried to imagine a planet where his old friend Magnus passed along the Nietzche-like teachings to a young impressionable mind. Especially one with this considerable amount of raw power at his disposal. The mentor of the X-Men suppressed a shiver while he continued to regard the data.
He turned his scrutiny upon the list of four names that comprised comparable energy signatures and their statistical probability of comparability. First on the list was the neo-mutant Dazzler, Alison Blaire, whom they had encountered recently. 2% positive identification. She was followed by Mastermind, Jason Wyngarde, 1% similarity. Finally, listed in a category entitled, Ability Employment, were Jean Grey and Erik Lensherr Magnus. Xavier pushed aside a stray thought that both Jean and Erik were poignant reminders of how much corruption absolute power could cause. He swore to himself that he would not allow such failures to happen. Not this time. And never again.
He reproached himself for digressing and scratched his chin in thought. It was late and his mind was wandering as fatigue set in. Still he forced himself to focus on the task at hand. He knew he was not too far away from understanding Mr. Darkmoon's abilities. In dealing with neo-mutants, Xavier found it necessary to be prepared for any eventuality. There was no telling how his offer of enrollment would be received. And considering their recent conflicts with the Inner Circle of the Hellfire Club, he had no way of know what sort of situation he and the X-Men might find themselves. Back to the task, Xavier, he reminded himself.
Mutants were a rarity and the percentage of mutants exhibiting omega class potential were infinitesimal. What concerned him the most was the combination of the power level and the comparison of the neo-mutant to both Phoenix and Magneto. For the new mutant to be in a category with them, in terms of ability employment, meant that he had the psionic ability with an affinity for a particular type of energy carrier. Now considering the list of mutants Dazzler and Mastermind, Clayton Darkmoon was most likely not a pure psi, i.e. not a psychokinetic. Otherwise, only the Phoenix - Jean Grey - would have been listed.
He sighed, contemplating the puzzle. With Cerebro able to ascertain less than 50% compatibility, there were a lot of things that mutant X could potentially do that were unknown to his computer's memory banks. And the list of talents that it did have that seemed to match were what? What was the commonality? He slammed his fist in frustration and pushed his wheel chair backwards away from his paper-strewn desk.
Normally he enjoyed the challenge of trying to understand a new mutant's powers. It was this understanding that made him the perfect mentor for the X-Men. He could help guide or coach the team by teaching them how to better comprehend their own powers and pushing their limits for the good of mankind. But if he couldn't understand how they worked, he wouldn't be able to properly counsel them. Or develop countermeasures to said powers, should the need arise.
Xavier turned his tired gaze upon the lamp, as if it held the answer to all his questions. Everything was a jumble. Images of Alison and Jean tumbled throughout his head battling Magneto and Mastermind. Fire lit the sky, brilliant patterns of lights, metal re-shaping itself, illusions.
Both Magnus and Grey employed psionic energies to manipulate carrier particles. In the case of Magneto, these particles were magnetic-field specific. In the case of Phoenix, her carriers were pure-psi, not confined to a physicality. Which led him to believe that Darkmoon's powers were most likely confined to a unique physical carrier, but with such a broad specification . . . Xavier looked at the lamp once more as realization began to dawn on him. Like a photon.
Xavier experienced an epiphany. Excitement roused him to full wakeness. Assuming that the physical carrier was a photon, that meant that Clayton could possibly manipulate the entire electromagnetic spectrum - which would explain the correlation to Dazzler and Mastermind. Both of the them utilized abilities that dealt with small parts of the EM spectrum. Supposing that Mr. Darkmoon was able to manipulate all the myriad forms of light, from cosmics rays to radio waves.? That would account for the relatively small percentage of comparable energy signatures of the other two mutants. However.that meant he was quite powerful indeed. And being new to his abilities meant that there was still room to grow.
Light-based powers.Xavier mused. He wondered how much the young man had accomplished himself and what he had done with his abilities. Further, he wondered if he were correct in his hypothesis at all? He shook his head dispelling the thoughts and decided to focus on his assessment of the psychological state of Mr. Clayton Darkmoon, III.
Their conversation had served a dual purpose. One to set up the interview for tomorrow so that he could introduce the young man to other mutants - people like himself with special abilities. The secondary objective was a little more nefarious, but a necessity. He needed to gauge the psychological health of the candidate. God help us all should any other mutant - let alone ones like Jean, Erik, or Clayton - be driven insane by their power, or have developed some malicious plan to wreak havoc upon the world.
Clayton seemed quite at ease with himself, somewhat headstrong and overconfident. But not maligned towards anyone or anything. Ororo had concurred with this assessment. "He was quite pleasant to talk to," she'd said. "An absolute gentleman." She'd started to say something more, but held her tongue. And for once, Charles had not pressed, either verbally or telepathically. Something about the exchange had captured the young woman's attention.He wished he'd asked her, but it was late, and he wasn't going to wake her over a minor point. The team needed their rest for tomorrow's trip.
Xavier organized his thoughts again and settled down for his least favorite part - transcribing his thoughts to notes to be filed for later. It was going to be another long night - as too many had been of late.
* * * * *
This story © 2001 Sherman L Taylor, II
Clayton "Tres" Darkmoon © 2001 Sherman L Taylor, II
The X-Men, Professor Charles Xavier, and all constituent
characters © 2001 Marvel Comics Group.
This story is not for sale and is not to be distributed without
permission of the author.
Please electronically mail comments to CommanderInChf@aol.com.
All constructive criticism is appreciated.