"Where is she?"
"I think you know that. She met with Mr. Eye; did you think he was going to send her home for a week to think about her decision after he had already managed the hard part of convincing her to work for him?"
It took a seemingly long time for Brandon to organize his thoughts enough to keep talking, so Toadstool worked on his drink.
"So she's in the field? How did you know she would be? How did you know I would come in five or six hours?" After all that mystery he wasn't about to trust the man.
"The first one is easy: that's what Mr. Eye does with his agents, as least ones he can use immediately like Nora. He's really quite predictable. And as for how I knew she told you she would be home in four hours, take a guess."
Brandon stared at him blankly.
"I followed you. I followed you all the way from the home of Mr. and Mrs. Erickson to the corner where I stopped you. I knew what your mother had done, and I knew I had to speak to you."
Much as he hated to admit that it could have been true, it did make things clearer. That's how the man had known that he had gone into the Heap and then left again, and that he saw that there might have been something beyond the barrow. "Fine. If it was so important for you to talk to me then talk to me! Tell me what's going on!"
"I've already told you what's going on. There are a few of us left who are still loyal to the Outsider's control over this rebellion, and we want to shut down the two main upstart rebellions within this barrow. One of those is led by Mr. Eye, and that is the one that has directly affected your family and will continue to directly affect your family."
"So what can I do about it?"
"You can leave."
"What?"
"You can leave the barrow."
"No I can't!"
Toadstool nodded. "There can be advantages to not having powers." He paused. "True, it's illegal for the child of two mutants to leave before the age of fourteen, but that won't be a problem. Remember what I told you, that you were smart?"
"Yeah..."
"You can pass for fourteen, can't you?"
He stared; he couldn't help it. "I...no! Look at me!"
"No. Don't look at you."
"Huh?"
"Close your eyes and tell me if you can pass for fourteen."
He was confused, but he certainly wasn't going to close his eyes in front of the man. It was creepy for one thing, and for another that would make it seem like he trusted him, which he didn't.
The green man shrugged. "If you insist. What I was asking was this: if the person you were trying to fool wasn't looking at you, wasn't listening to your voice, would they be able to tell that you aren't fourteen?"
"I don't know. Why wouldn't they be looking at me or hearing my voice?"
"They'll be in your head. Or at least the gate guard will be."
"The gate guard is telepathic? Why would a mutant keep mutants in?"
Mr. Toadstool grinned. "You see? You're a smart one."
"You didn't answer me."
"I don't have to. If you're thinking the question as you pass through the gate he'll answer it for you."
A shiver ran up Brandon's spine. He knew there were teeps around - you couldn't walk around the barrow without running into ONE - but he had never known any before, had never been told he was about to have his thoughts read.
"That's the trick: you have to get past that teep without giving anything away."
"Is that possible?"
"Of course. You do it all that time. When you run into a teep on the street he doesn't see your whole life story."
"He doesn't?"
The green man laughed. "They wouldn't get very far if they had to sit through a whole life story every time they came near someone, would they?"
"But why not?"
"Because you're not thinking it at them and they're not going into your mind and turning over rocks."
"But the gate guard will be, won't he?"
"Yes, but he can only turn over so many, and you would be surprised just how many rocks will fit into a brain the size or yours or mine. The hard part is the other one: not thinking exactly what he wants straight at him."
"It is?"
"Yes. Don't think about your dad."
He thought about his dad.
"You see the difficulty?"
Brandon nodded.
"Now, though, I'm serious: don't think about your dad. Put away the thoughts."
He didn't know how to do that. He put away his dad's image, but he still thought about the fact that he had died because of Mr. Eye, and now Brandon had a chance to get back at him.
"If you're having trouble, think of something completely different, something you care about more."
"Like what?"
"Stephanie Erickson."
He blushed.
"Hey, you've forgotten about your dad."
He realized that he had.
"Fantasies are wonderful for distracting teeps; there's nothing suspicious about them and yet they're quite effective at covering up your thoughts. Another way is to read a book, one that is interesting enough that you forget all about what you're doing and hopefully about the telepath as well."
"You've done it before? You've gotten past the teep?"
"I've only gotten past this teep guard once or twice - it's not very smart for me to try to play flatscan - but I've gotten past many others in my time."
He tried to imagine situations where the green man would had to have slipped past a telepath, and found he couldn't quite.
"And, of course, thinking fantasies at him will only make you seem more like a fourteen-year-old."
He blushed again.
"But enough of that. You're going to need to know how to get in contact with the Outsider once you're out of here."
"Huh?" He was actually going to be talking to Magneto? The mutant who lived outside the barrow, who controlled the rebellion? It made sense, but he hadn't thought of it before.
"Here." Mr. Toadstool placed something on the counter in front of him. It was a book. MOBY DICK.
"What is this?" He picked it up and hefted it.
"A book. In it you'll find instructions on how to contact the Outsider."
"I have to find them in HERE?" It had to have been 1000 pages long.
"You're reading this book for the same reason you're leaving: you're smart and you're fed up with the this barrow's awful education system."
"Fine, but how am I supposed to find the instructions in here?"
"Look for them."
He flipped open the first page, then flipped past the first 30 or 40 pages before giving up. "I can't find them."
"Then the guard won't find them either."
"But how can I use that?"
"You know something the guard doesn't know."
"I do?"
"You know birthdays."
Instead of speaking and just sounding like more of an idiot Brandon thought about what the man could have meant. Of course he knew birthdays, but how did that help him? Well, there were pages in the book that corresponded to certain birthdays. But how would he know which ones? There was his own birthday, but that was probably too obvious. What if it was someone else, someone not quite so obvious? He tried his father's, page 316. He found the page and looked at it carefully, but couldn't see anything that could have been interpreted as instructions. "Is there something else I have to do?"
"Use your brain, maybe. Who's the first person they would think of?"
Brandon blinked at the man a couple of times, then realized what he meant. His father was the first person they would think of, since they knew they had killed him and would guess he was leaving to get revenge for him somehow. Did that mean that his own birthday was more likely, or that it was someone less obvious?
"I think you'll think of it once you're on the outside."
"Well, now what? What am I supposed to do about a place to stay, or about food, or about going places? Am I just supposed to walk out of the barrow?"
"Yes. You're going to walk out of the barrow because that is the only way out of the barrow. Then you are going to get on the first bus you see. You are going to get out of the range of the guard gate's telepathy as fast as you can, then you are going to contact the Outsider and he will make arrangements for everything else you need."
"But...what? That's it?"
"It's enough. If you can make it out the first time without giving us away you will continue to go back and forth. You'll be going to school on the outside; that's why you're leaving. Since you're fourteen now and still not a mutant you can do that."
"Wow. If I do that I'll have to go past the teep gate guard twice a day."
"You're right."
Brandon sighed. Was he going to do this? The man had never really given him the choice, but they couldn't exactly force him if he refused to do it. Which meant that it all came down to whether he decided to do it. His immediate reaction, once he knew that Mr. Eye really had been going against the rebellion and really was responsible for sending his mother out into the field, was that he had to go so he could save his mom. But it would be really dangerous if he did, and he could end up being caught and telling them about his mom. Still, someone had to do it and it had to be someone without mutant powers. He was the only one, then, who could do it, and he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he didn't and his mother was killed or arrested. He had been waiting for a long time to get his powers so he could go out and fight; now he was being given the chance to fight even without powers. He had to take it.
"So?" asked Mr. Toadstool.
"Do I have to leave now?"
"Tomorrow. You'll want to have a nice dinner and a night's sleep in you before you go. If you have any regrets as you pass the gate he'll feel them."
"But if my mom is already gone..."
"That's why you went to the Ericksons' house."
"Do they know?"
"No. But they will eventually, I would guess. I'm not worried about them; I'll see to it that Joel keeps Stephanie in check and everything will be fine."
"What?"
"Joel, Mr. Erickson, is quiet used to being noticed by soldiers and is something of an expert at keeping what he knows to himself. If he makes sure his unfortunately colored daughter has the same skill no one will bother the other two and we won't have a problem."
He blinked at the green man. There was something about the way he had said those last couple of sentences that gave him a bad feeling, but he wasn't quite sure what it was. Maybe it was that he didn't like the idea of soldiers bothering Stephanie because of her skin color. He shook his head to clear it.
"Is that it?"
"Just about. In a few moments you'll want to leave and go directly to their house without stopping off at yours."
"Okay. Why?"
"Bugs."
He was briefly confused, then he realized what the man meant: microphones. But if they had bugged his house who was to say that they hadn't bugged the bar? What if the soldiers had heard everything, from when Mr. Eye came over to his house until right then? Another shiver ran down his spine.
"They can't hear us; that's why we're here. And don't worry about them hearing Mr. Eye's conversation with your mum."
"Why not?"
"This little corner of the bar here is a sound dampening field and Mr. Eye carries a pulser. He shorted any bugs that might have been listening in."
"Oh. How do you..." He stopped abruptly as a weird-looking hunched-over figure in a hood loomed at him and placed its hand on his shoulder. The other hand covered his mouth just before he could let out a yell. Now the hand on his shoulder moved to his arm, pinning it to the bar.
"No one would hear you anyway, remember?" said Mr. Toadstool next to him.
Brandon's face started to tingle and he tried to fight the hooded figure off with his free arm, only to find that something wet was wrapped around it, stopping him. It was Toadstool's tongue.
"We're almost done now," came the voice of the hooded figure. It was a strange voice; he couldn't tell whether it was a man with a high voice or a woman with a low one.
By this time his face was no longer tingling; now he couldn't feel it at all. It felt really strange, as if it was somehow heavier, or something. He didn't like the feeling at all.
Soon the hand on his face came away and the figure let go of his arm. It paused for the briefest time then left, quickly disappearing among the moving bodies.
"Let's look at you, then," said Mr. Toadstool, once he had taken his tongue back.
"What?" asked Brandon weakly. It was all he could do after the attack.
"You look good. Masque always does neat work. Take a look at yourself."
Brandon didn't move.
"Oh, come on. What's all this? If you're going to work for the rebellion you're going to go through much more than that. All she did was make you older."
That caught his attention. The figure had made him older? He looked around for a mirror but didn't see one.
"The bathroom. But hurry up; you can bet someone saw that. After you're finished in there go straight to the Ericksons'. If I need to tell you something more I'll come by later." Mr. Toadstool stood up and walked away, without a word or gesture of goodbye.
He stood up, only to find that it was more difficult than he expected; his feet hit the ground too soon and his knees almost buckled, forcing him to grab onto the counter to stop himself from falling over entirely. He pushed his way back up to his feet and he immediately noticed the difference: he was taller. There was no other explanation. He wasn't looking upward nearly as much. He was staring straight at a picture on the wall that had been over his head before.
Amazed, he grabbed the book off the counter again and walked over to where Toadstool had indicated the bathroom was. For the first couple of steps he felt like he was about to fall over, but by the time he got there he was used to walking again. As he opened the door he bumped his elbow painfully on the doorframe.
He forgot about the pain in his elbow, though, as soon as he saw his face in the mirror. He was older. He looked like a teenager. As he stared at his features he tried to figure out what was different. It wasn't anything big; his eyes were still the same color and everything. As he continued to look he thought he noticed something: his face was thinner, more oval. So that's what it was.
He continued to marvel at the changes in his appearance until another man came in and looked at him oddly. He flushed, turned around, and walked out.
He was most of the way to the door when a soldier in full uniform stopped him. "What are you doing in here, kid?"
"Just leaving." He backed away and walked as fast as he dared to the door and out. With a brief look back he oriented himself to go the Ericksons' house and started walking. After a minute or two he glanced back again and was gratified to find that the soldier wasn't following him, and neither was anyone else.
As he walked he tried to remember everything that had happened to him in the last day, and he found he almost couldn't. Too much had happened. It was almost absurd; he had gone from being a normal kid, wandering around with Kin and occasionally going to school, to being a teenage agent of the rebellion. And he still didn't have his powers.
When he got to the Ericksons' house he was almost afraid to knock on the door. Wouldn't they notice that he was different? Would they even let him in? Would Stephanie and Chloe notice him now? He could feel his cheeks start to turn a little red, but he shook himself off. He didn't want to make it any worse.
Finally he built up some courage and knocked on the door. It opened within ten seconds.
"Hi, Brandon," said Mrs. Erickson, "come in."
He did, shocked that she didn't mention the change in his appearance.
"You're just in time to help set up for dinner," she said after she closed the door behind him.
He walked in and said his hellos. No one said anything about his appearance.
Within seconds Mrs. Erickson was pointing out where the silverware was and telling him to set the table. He complied, aware that he would be eating her food and sleeping under her roof when both food and space were scarce resources.
Most of the way through the dinner preparations someone else came into the dining room, a young girl Brandon only fleetingly recognized. He was confused, unsure why she was there. They stared at each other for a second or two, then both turned away and went back to what they had been doing before.
Once they were all settled down at the table, strange girl included, Brandon became rather uncomfortable. Was it his imagination or was everyone looking at him? Well, they weren't really looking at him; it was more like they were watching him out of the corner of their eyes. They served food all around and Mrs. Erickson picked up her spoon and started eating, meaning that he could also.
"Steph," whispered the strange girl after a few seconds, "I thought he was going to be more like our age." Brandon guessed he wasn't supposed to be able to hear that.
"Actually," put in Mr. Erickson, "I'm curious myself. You've changed since this afternoon."
"Yeah...I don't quite know what to say about that. I was at the pub and..." He stopped. "I was only at the pub to talk to someone, though. But anyway, I was at the pub and this guy, or I guess it was a man, maybe not, but anyway the person grabbed me and held me to the counter and did this to me."
Mr. and Mrs. Erickson looked at each other. Mr. Erickson asked, "Why would Masque do that?"
Mrs. Erickson shrugged and looked back at Brandon. "Why?"
"Well, it was because someone told him to."
"Her. Who told her to?"
"Toad..." He stopped. What was the man's real name? It had been so long since he had had to talk about him to anyone other than another kid. Real name. Finally he remembered it. "Mr. Toynbee."
Again a look passed between the adults.
"Wait, what?" asked Chloe, knowing she had missed something.
Mr. Erickson answered. "Don't worry about it, honey. Masque made him look older, but he's still the same old Brandon. Just forget about it."
Everyone was silent. Brandon felt like everyone was staring at him from the corner of their eyes again. Even so it was a good meal, some kind of goulash, so he ignored it. And because he did so the others soon got bored and started into conversations about other things. Nothing to worry about.
It was only awkward again when it was about time for bed, and he found himself in the office/extra room with the strange girl, who had introduced herself an hour or two before as Carmen. She got the little fold-out bed and he got a futon that had appeared from somewhere.
The silence started to get to Brandon after a while. It was heavy, almost like a physical weight on him.
"So, Carmen," he said, "where are your parents?"
"My dad isn't a mutant so he doesn't live here. My mom is fighting."
"Mine too. What is her power? And what is your power?"
"We both have this stuff inside our bodies, this poison. If you cut us open you get hit with it or it can come right out through our skin when we want it to. Mom can make it into this kind of cloud that knocks people out or kills them depending on what she wants it to do."
He could see why they would want her to be a part of the rebellion. On the other hand, it didn't make him any more comfortable sleeping in the same room as the girl.
"What about your parents? What about their powers and your powers?"
"Like I said, my mom is part of the rebellion also. She's a true morph. My dad was a seismic." He stopped, but she blinked at him in confusion, so he kept going. "He was in the rebellion, but they killed him. I don't have any powers yet."
"Sorry."
"Yeah."
The heavy silence settled on them again, and this time he didn't try to break it. He turned over so that he wouldn't be able to see her and closed his eyes. The next morning was going to be an important one for him, and he had to be fully awake for it. It wouldn't be smart for him to get a bad night's sleep and then try to get past the telepathic gate guard.
Now if he could only forget what Carmen had said about poisonous gasses...
"I think you know that. She met with Mr. Eye; did you think he was going to send her home for a week to think about her decision after he had already managed the hard part of convincing her to work for him?"
It took a seemingly long time for Brandon to organize his thoughts enough to keep talking, so Toadstool worked on his drink.
"So she's in the field? How did you know she would be? How did you know I would come in five or six hours?" After all that mystery he wasn't about to trust the man.
"The first one is easy: that's what Mr. Eye does with his agents, as least ones he can use immediately like Nora. He's really quite predictable. And as for how I knew she told you she would be home in four hours, take a guess."
Brandon stared at him blankly.
"I followed you. I followed you all the way from the home of Mr. and Mrs. Erickson to the corner where I stopped you. I knew what your mother had done, and I knew I had to speak to you."
Much as he hated to admit that it could have been true, it did make things clearer. That's how the man had known that he had gone into the Heap and then left again, and that he saw that there might have been something beyond the barrow. "Fine. If it was so important for you to talk to me then talk to me! Tell me what's going on!"
"I've already told you what's going on. There are a few of us left who are still loyal to the Outsider's control over this rebellion, and we want to shut down the two main upstart rebellions within this barrow. One of those is led by Mr. Eye, and that is the one that has directly affected your family and will continue to directly affect your family."
"So what can I do about it?"
"You can leave."
"What?"
"You can leave the barrow."
"No I can't!"
Toadstool nodded. "There can be advantages to not having powers." He paused. "True, it's illegal for the child of two mutants to leave before the age of fourteen, but that won't be a problem. Remember what I told you, that you were smart?"
"Yeah..."
"You can pass for fourteen, can't you?"
He stared; he couldn't help it. "I...no! Look at me!"
"No. Don't look at you."
"Huh?"
"Close your eyes and tell me if you can pass for fourteen."
He was confused, but he certainly wasn't going to close his eyes in front of the man. It was creepy for one thing, and for another that would make it seem like he trusted him, which he didn't.
The green man shrugged. "If you insist. What I was asking was this: if the person you were trying to fool wasn't looking at you, wasn't listening to your voice, would they be able to tell that you aren't fourteen?"
"I don't know. Why wouldn't they be looking at me or hearing my voice?"
"They'll be in your head. Or at least the gate guard will be."
"The gate guard is telepathic? Why would a mutant keep mutants in?"
Mr. Toadstool grinned. "You see? You're a smart one."
"You didn't answer me."
"I don't have to. If you're thinking the question as you pass through the gate he'll answer it for you."
A shiver ran up Brandon's spine. He knew there were teeps around - you couldn't walk around the barrow without running into ONE - but he had never known any before, had never been told he was about to have his thoughts read.
"That's the trick: you have to get past that teep without giving anything away."
"Is that possible?"
"Of course. You do it all that time. When you run into a teep on the street he doesn't see your whole life story."
"He doesn't?"
The green man laughed. "They wouldn't get very far if they had to sit through a whole life story every time they came near someone, would they?"
"But why not?"
"Because you're not thinking it at them and they're not going into your mind and turning over rocks."
"But the gate guard will be, won't he?"
"Yes, but he can only turn over so many, and you would be surprised just how many rocks will fit into a brain the size or yours or mine. The hard part is the other one: not thinking exactly what he wants straight at him."
"It is?"
"Yes. Don't think about your dad."
He thought about his dad.
"You see the difficulty?"
Brandon nodded.
"Now, though, I'm serious: don't think about your dad. Put away the thoughts."
He didn't know how to do that. He put away his dad's image, but he still thought about the fact that he had died because of Mr. Eye, and now Brandon had a chance to get back at him.
"If you're having trouble, think of something completely different, something you care about more."
"Like what?"
"Stephanie Erickson."
He blushed.
"Hey, you've forgotten about your dad."
He realized that he had.
"Fantasies are wonderful for distracting teeps; there's nothing suspicious about them and yet they're quite effective at covering up your thoughts. Another way is to read a book, one that is interesting enough that you forget all about what you're doing and hopefully about the telepath as well."
"You've done it before? You've gotten past the teep?"
"I've only gotten past this teep guard once or twice - it's not very smart for me to try to play flatscan - but I've gotten past many others in my time."
He tried to imagine situations where the green man would had to have slipped past a telepath, and found he couldn't quite.
"And, of course, thinking fantasies at him will only make you seem more like a fourteen-year-old."
He blushed again.
"But enough of that. You're going to need to know how to get in contact with the Outsider once you're out of here."
"Huh?" He was actually going to be talking to Magneto? The mutant who lived outside the barrow, who controlled the rebellion? It made sense, but he hadn't thought of it before.
"Here." Mr. Toadstool placed something on the counter in front of him. It was a book. MOBY DICK.
"What is this?" He picked it up and hefted it.
"A book. In it you'll find instructions on how to contact the Outsider."
"I have to find them in HERE?" It had to have been 1000 pages long.
"You're reading this book for the same reason you're leaving: you're smart and you're fed up with the this barrow's awful education system."
"Fine, but how am I supposed to find the instructions in here?"
"Look for them."
He flipped open the first page, then flipped past the first 30 or 40 pages before giving up. "I can't find them."
"Then the guard won't find them either."
"But how can I use that?"
"You know something the guard doesn't know."
"I do?"
"You know birthdays."
Instead of speaking and just sounding like more of an idiot Brandon thought about what the man could have meant. Of course he knew birthdays, but how did that help him? Well, there were pages in the book that corresponded to certain birthdays. But how would he know which ones? There was his own birthday, but that was probably too obvious. What if it was someone else, someone not quite so obvious? He tried his father's, page 316. He found the page and looked at it carefully, but couldn't see anything that could have been interpreted as instructions. "Is there something else I have to do?"
"Use your brain, maybe. Who's the first person they would think of?"
Brandon blinked at the man a couple of times, then realized what he meant. His father was the first person they would think of, since they knew they had killed him and would guess he was leaving to get revenge for him somehow. Did that mean that his own birthday was more likely, or that it was someone less obvious?
"I think you'll think of it once you're on the outside."
"Well, now what? What am I supposed to do about a place to stay, or about food, or about going places? Am I just supposed to walk out of the barrow?"
"Yes. You're going to walk out of the barrow because that is the only way out of the barrow. Then you are going to get on the first bus you see. You are going to get out of the range of the guard gate's telepathy as fast as you can, then you are going to contact the Outsider and he will make arrangements for everything else you need."
"But...what? That's it?"
"It's enough. If you can make it out the first time without giving us away you will continue to go back and forth. You'll be going to school on the outside; that's why you're leaving. Since you're fourteen now and still not a mutant you can do that."
"Wow. If I do that I'll have to go past the teep gate guard twice a day."
"You're right."
Brandon sighed. Was he going to do this? The man had never really given him the choice, but they couldn't exactly force him if he refused to do it. Which meant that it all came down to whether he decided to do it. His immediate reaction, once he knew that Mr. Eye really had been going against the rebellion and really was responsible for sending his mother out into the field, was that he had to go so he could save his mom. But it would be really dangerous if he did, and he could end up being caught and telling them about his mom. Still, someone had to do it and it had to be someone without mutant powers. He was the only one, then, who could do it, and he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he didn't and his mother was killed or arrested. He had been waiting for a long time to get his powers so he could go out and fight; now he was being given the chance to fight even without powers. He had to take it.
"So?" asked Mr. Toadstool.
"Do I have to leave now?"
"Tomorrow. You'll want to have a nice dinner and a night's sleep in you before you go. If you have any regrets as you pass the gate he'll feel them."
"But if my mom is already gone..."
"That's why you went to the Ericksons' house."
"Do they know?"
"No. But they will eventually, I would guess. I'm not worried about them; I'll see to it that Joel keeps Stephanie in check and everything will be fine."
"What?"
"Joel, Mr. Erickson, is quiet used to being noticed by soldiers and is something of an expert at keeping what he knows to himself. If he makes sure his unfortunately colored daughter has the same skill no one will bother the other two and we won't have a problem."
He blinked at the green man. There was something about the way he had said those last couple of sentences that gave him a bad feeling, but he wasn't quite sure what it was. Maybe it was that he didn't like the idea of soldiers bothering Stephanie because of her skin color. He shook his head to clear it.
"Is that it?"
"Just about. In a few moments you'll want to leave and go directly to their house without stopping off at yours."
"Okay. Why?"
"Bugs."
He was briefly confused, then he realized what the man meant: microphones. But if they had bugged his house who was to say that they hadn't bugged the bar? What if the soldiers had heard everything, from when Mr. Eye came over to his house until right then? Another shiver ran down his spine.
"They can't hear us; that's why we're here. And don't worry about them hearing Mr. Eye's conversation with your mum."
"Why not?"
"This little corner of the bar here is a sound dampening field and Mr. Eye carries a pulser. He shorted any bugs that might have been listening in."
"Oh. How do you..." He stopped abruptly as a weird-looking hunched-over figure in a hood loomed at him and placed its hand on his shoulder. The other hand covered his mouth just before he could let out a yell. Now the hand on his shoulder moved to his arm, pinning it to the bar.
"No one would hear you anyway, remember?" said Mr. Toadstool next to him.
Brandon's face started to tingle and he tried to fight the hooded figure off with his free arm, only to find that something wet was wrapped around it, stopping him. It was Toadstool's tongue.
"We're almost done now," came the voice of the hooded figure. It was a strange voice; he couldn't tell whether it was a man with a high voice or a woman with a low one.
By this time his face was no longer tingling; now he couldn't feel it at all. It felt really strange, as if it was somehow heavier, or something. He didn't like the feeling at all.
Soon the hand on his face came away and the figure let go of his arm. It paused for the briefest time then left, quickly disappearing among the moving bodies.
"Let's look at you, then," said Mr. Toadstool, once he had taken his tongue back.
"What?" asked Brandon weakly. It was all he could do after the attack.
"You look good. Masque always does neat work. Take a look at yourself."
Brandon didn't move.
"Oh, come on. What's all this? If you're going to work for the rebellion you're going to go through much more than that. All she did was make you older."
That caught his attention. The figure had made him older? He looked around for a mirror but didn't see one.
"The bathroom. But hurry up; you can bet someone saw that. After you're finished in there go straight to the Ericksons'. If I need to tell you something more I'll come by later." Mr. Toadstool stood up and walked away, without a word or gesture of goodbye.
He stood up, only to find that it was more difficult than he expected; his feet hit the ground too soon and his knees almost buckled, forcing him to grab onto the counter to stop himself from falling over entirely. He pushed his way back up to his feet and he immediately noticed the difference: he was taller. There was no other explanation. He wasn't looking upward nearly as much. He was staring straight at a picture on the wall that had been over his head before.
Amazed, he grabbed the book off the counter again and walked over to where Toadstool had indicated the bathroom was. For the first couple of steps he felt like he was about to fall over, but by the time he got there he was used to walking again. As he opened the door he bumped his elbow painfully on the doorframe.
He forgot about the pain in his elbow, though, as soon as he saw his face in the mirror. He was older. He looked like a teenager. As he stared at his features he tried to figure out what was different. It wasn't anything big; his eyes were still the same color and everything. As he continued to look he thought he noticed something: his face was thinner, more oval. So that's what it was.
He continued to marvel at the changes in his appearance until another man came in and looked at him oddly. He flushed, turned around, and walked out.
He was most of the way to the door when a soldier in full uniform stopped him. "What are you doing in here, kid?"
"Just leaving." He backed away and walked as fast as he dared to the door and out. With a brief look back he oriented himself to go the Ericksons' house and started walking. After a minute or two he glanced back again and was gratified to find that the soldier wasn't following him, and neither was anyone else.
As he walked he tried to remember everything that had happened to him in the last day, and he found he almost couldn't. Too much had happened. It was almost absurd; he had gone from being a normal kid, wandering around with Kin and occasionally going to school, to being a teenage agent of the rebellion. And he still didn't have his powers.
When he got to the Ericksons' house he was almost afraid to knock on the door. Wouldn't they notice that he was different? Would they even let him in? Would Stephanie and Chloe notice him now? He could feel his cheeks start to turn a little red, but he shook himself off. He didn't want to make it any worse.
Finally he built up some courage and knocked on the door. It opened within ten seconds.
"Hi, Brandon," said Mrs. Erickson, "come in."
He did, shocked that she didn't mention the change in his appearance.
"You're just in time to help set up for dinner," she said after she closed the door behind him.
He walked in and said his hellos. No one said anything about his appearance.
Within seconds Mrs. Erickson was pointing out where the silverware was and telling him to set the table. He complied, aware that he would be eating her food and sleeping under her roof when both food and space were scarce resources.
Most of the way through the dinner preparations someone else came into the dining room, a young girl Brandon only fleetingly recognized. He was confused, unsure why she was there. They stared at each other for a second or two, then both turned away and went back to what they had been doing before.
Once they were all settled down at the table, strange girl included, Brandon became rather uncomfortable. Was it his imagination or was everyone looking at him? Well, they weren't really looking at him; it was more like they were watching him out of the corner of their eyes. They served food all around and Mrs. Erickson picked up her spoon and started eating, meaning that he could also.
"Steph," whispered the strange girl after a few seconds, "I thought he was going to be more like our age." Brandon guessed he wasn't supposed to be able to hear that.
"Actually," put in Mr. Erickson, "I'm curious myself. You've changed since this afternoon."
"Yeah...I don't quite know what to say about that. I was at the pub and..." He stopped. "I was only at the pub to talk to someone, though. But anyway, I was at the pub and this guy, or I guess it was a man, maybe not, but anyway the person grabbed me and held me to the counter and did this to me."
Mr. and Mrs. Erickson looked at each other. Mr. Erickson asked, "Why would Masque do that?"
Mrs. Erickson shrugged and looked back at Brandon. "Why?"
"Well, it was because someone told him to."
"Her. Who told her to?"
"Toad..." He stopped. What was the man's real name? It had been so long since he had had to talk about him to anyone other than another kid. Real name. Finally he remembered it. "Mr. Toynbee."
Again a look passed between the adults.
"Wait, what?" asked Chloe, knowing she had missed something.
Mr. Erickson answered. "Don't worry about it, honey. Masque made him look older, but he's still the same old Brandon. Just forget about it."
Everyone was silent. Brandon felt like everyone was staring at him from the corner of their eyes again. Even so it was a good meal, some kind of goulash, so he ignored it. And because he did so the others soon got bored and started into conversations about other things. Nothing to worry about.
It was only awkward again when it was about time for bed, and he found himself in the office/extra room with the strange girl, who had introduced herself an hour or two before as Carmen. She got the little fold-out bed and he got a futon that had appeared from somewhere.
The silence started to get to Brandon after a while. It was heavy, almost like a physical weight on him.
"So, Carmen," he said, "where are your parents?"
"My dad isn't a mutant so he doesn't live here. My mom is fighting."
"Mine too. What is her power? And what is your power?"
"We both have this stuff inside our bodies, this poison. If you cut us open you get hit with it or it can come right out through our skin when we want it to. Mom can make it into this kind of cloud that knocks people out or kills them depending on what she wants it to do."
He could see why they would want her to be a part of the rebellion. On the other hand, it didn't make him any more comfortable sleeping in the same room as the girl.
"What about your parents? What about their powers and your powers?"
"Like I said, my mom is part of the rebellion also. She's a true morph. My dad was a seismic." He stopped, but she blinked at him in confusion, so he kept going. "He was in the rebellion, but they killed him. I don't have any powers yet."
"Sorry."
"Yeah."
The heavy silence settled on them again, and this time he didn't try to break it. He turned over so that he wouldn't be able to see her and closed his eyes. The next morning was going to be an important one for him, and he had to be fully awake for it. It wouldn't be smart for him to get a bad night's sleep and then try to get past the telepathic gate guard.
Now if he could only forget what Carmen had said about poisonous gasses...