Archived author's note:
Atticus still sounds pretty good to me as a mutant name even if it sounds a little humany. Any objections or other ideas?
The next day, I rose early and sat at a pond. The honey yellow reflection of the rising sun glinted in the water. I reached behind me, searching for something to throw.
I should start focusing on how this place works. When food is delivered here, and how. A stolen vehicle could easily solve my transportation problem.
Once a suitable rock was found, I threw it into the pond, trying to skim the surface like I'd seen others do. However, it did not resurface.
I frowned. Making rocks skip in a pond looked a lot easier than it actually was.
I could always just fly too, but that's a lot of ocean for me to cover without tiring. That and I definitely don't trust my levitation skills yet.
I sighed. I'm putting the cart before the horse. I have no idea where my mom is. I'm just making these plans to gather info so I don't feel so useless. What good is information If I can't act on it?
I tossed another rock. It sank instantaneously.
No, that's the type of thinking that will keep me here. Luck is a combination of preparation and opportunity. My chance will come and when it does I'll be ready.
I channeled my new determination into the next throw. The rock flew across the lake and dove underwater, but never skipped.
I'd have plenty of time to perfect that. I recalled that Magneto had a real, printed newspaper to read at breakfast. If I could snatch it I'd have information on the outside world and I'd be able to determine when his deliveries came.
If the news in it was current that meant that somehow they got it delivered to the island in record time. Someone had to be doing the deliveries.
Even if the news was older, the newspaper would still be useful. Even if the deliveries weren't scheduled regularly, people tend to do things in patterns. All I would have to do is figure out what the cycle was. Then I'd know that on, let's say, the third Friday of each month there was a vehicle with fuel that would leave soon, somewhere on the island.
Getting on said vehicle wouldn't be nearly as simple, but one step at a time.
A few feet from the enormous structure, I paused. A sharp pain filled my stomach. I didn't want to lose what precious little freedom I felt when I was alone. To think I'd done everything to protect my mother. I had abandoned my plan to escape, the moment Magneto had threatened her life. Then, I had walked into the car he had used to take me away, seemingly of my own free will. I couldn't even count on any passersby thinking I'd gotten kidnapped.
I had done it automatically at the time, but my actions were infuriating in hindsight. What was I thinking, going with him like that? I had let him take me thousands of miles away and now I wanted to get back? The stupidity of my previous actions burned. If I had at least tried to escape and he'd forced me to come with him, I could excuse myself, but how could I be so weak, so easily be made to do as the man said?
He had my mother, that was how. I cared about her so much that I had gone with a madman, betting on the vague hope that I'd be able to escape him. Him, Magneto, one of the most powerful men of my time. The person that presidents, generals and senators had nightmares about.
Oh, who was I kidding? I didn't actually think I'd managed to get away, I just wanted to make myself feel better about everything. I wanted to save my mom, and I was willing to do anything it took. If it meant my death, very well. If it meant being attacked, big deal. If it meant surrendering myself to the most terrifying man on the planet, I'd do so, hoping I'd be able to endure, hoping I'd find a way out. But, I'd known from the beginning, how terrible those odds were.
Magneto had said that my mother wouldn't do the exact same thing for me. Even now, what he said still rings in my ears. Surely she'd do what I was doing if she didn't know about my mutation, but if she did? I didn't even want to think about it, uncertainty continued to loom over me day and night.
What was wrong with me? Why was I so insistent on protecting someone who I couldn't trust to help me or love me should she ever find out about what I was? If she knew, she might regret ever giving birth to me. Yet I was willing to do anything for my mom.
I like people for what they do. I have as many sad memories of her as happy ones, and yet I'm here for her. What is so special about her? What's stopping me from leaving as soon as I could regardless of whether or not I knew I could save her?
Who cares if we played chess for hours? Or that time we went to the beach and I built a sandcastle and pretended that it harnessed hydraulic power from the pounding waves? I loved the times we-
I sighed, breath halting midway as my throat constricted. I was so fucking pathethic. Go figure, months of worrying if this was the day my Mom would turn me out onto the street and report me, couldn't outweigh years of affection.
Why do I keep fixating on my good interactions with her and ignoring all the wrong ones?
I stared up at the blue sky, wiping my eyes to dry the tears that were threatening to spill. High above, a pair of seagulls soared through the sky.
Of course I'm ignoring her bad parts, she's my mom. I'm hardwired to love her. That's simple psychology.
I breathed in, and out again.
I love my mom, that's a fact. For whatever illogical reason, the point is I do. I'd feel bad if anything happened to her. I care for her. That is why I will... go back and not do anything that could get her harmed. I won't do anything stupid. I won't yell at Magneto for being a jerk and I'll do as he says. Even if I hate everything about it.
It took a good bit of willpower for me to walk back into the castle. I didn't fear Magneto nearly as much as I feared losing my free will. I clung to that because it was all I've ever had. I may not be able to control where I went to school or where I lived, but I could at least control my actions. I could, anyway. Now even that was being taken away.
The idea that the rest of my life could be determined by someone else who just happened to be more powerful made me sick. What kind of life was that? That wasn't a life, that was a prison sentence.
What did I do to-
Logic decided to cut in, shaking his head.
No, no, no. Don't go there. No one actually deserves anything. The universe is an indifferent unfeeling thing. This is just mathematics. When we put together the probability of me being a mutant and meeting Magneto, you get the possibility of this happening. And as unlikely as it was, that was exactly what happened. Just like someone being born with a genetic disorder.
The profound unfairness of the situation burned, despite my inner monologue's attempt to stem the pain that flowed from my heartache. Freedom is something I can't truly live without. So going from roaming about a city to being confined to a small island burned.
I said nothing about this to anyone, of course. That wouldn't help at all. This was a useless kind of pain. It didn't tell me that I was in immediate danger like burning your hand on a hot stove. It couldn't do anything for me, so I ignored it and prepared my breakfast.
I ate and forced myself to hunt for relevant information, pushing away my sadness. I had to be smart, I had to be capable, I had to figure things out so I could have a chance of escape.
I studied the papers the older man held, then frowned when I realized the paper he held was the New York Chronicle. If it had been a smaller paper I'd have an idea of where it had been picked up. That would have helped me with planning my escape. Though, that was probably the point. I continued to study it from my seat. The paper was not even a day old so someone must have left to get it this very morning.
Even if I decided to give my mom up I'd still be stuck here. There'd be a quick skirmish and then I'd lose. I'm letting my fear get to me. I can't believe I started resenting the fact that I need to save myself and my mom simultaneously. If I didn't have it happen to me I wouldn't believe it.
I have to focus on who the real enemy is. Rallying against my childhood isn't going to help.
After breakfast, I was taken to the same room as yesterday for training. The objective of the training exercise seemed deceptively simple.
Magneto lifted a few metal bricks, fused them together, and shifted them into several shapes. I needed to use a few other bricks and copy whatever shapes he made.
But of course, there was a catch. I had to, again, be blindfolded as I copied these shapes. This meant I relied solely on my ability to sense the magnetic fields around me and I had only this information to construct my models with.
This was basically the equivalent of having someone who'd just taken Spanish 101 translate an episode of a tv show. I could get the general idea, but it was hard enough understanding it for myself, let alone expressing the information I learned. Switching rapidly from sensing to manipulation was taxing in every possible way.
Yes, even physically, because unlike Magneto I actually needed my hands to manipulate my power at the time. And the objects he made were heavy, so keeping the metal in the air was hard enough as is. Ever done a pull up before? Now imagine that ache you get in your biceps from pulling yourself up once, but instead of coming back down you have to stay in place- for what feels like an eternity.
But the worst part wasn't the pain, it was the fact that he switched shapes at an incredibly fast speed. By the time that I figured out something was a cube, he'd be on something that was completely different. Not being able to keep up stung.
To try to fix this problem, I did something really stupid. I said, "Can you switch shapes at a slower pace? I need more time to figure out what the shape is."
He responded by changing the shapes of the bricks at an even faster rate. Worse, he even added more bricks to his shapes, meaning I'd have to do the same. This effectively made my task harder and even more strenuous.
Looking back I can definitely say the fatigue was getting to me. He was an extremist. What type of extremist compromised on anything? None, because if they did they wouldn't be extremists. Changing the social order in a short period of time took drastic and radical action. Being unreasonable was practically in the job description. They had standards and you met them, or else.
The message was sent. Complaining would only make things more difficult. I endured until the exercise thankfully stopped.
After I caught my breath, I noticed that I could somewhat feel the shape of my house keys , without touching them without looking at them. I wasn't even trying to notice. This knowledge seemed to exist as a strange nebulous sixth sense. I just knew. I could tell there were bumps on my house keys, though I'm sure I couldn't reproduce it accurately enough to open the lock yet.
Still though, at least there was a point to all this drudgery.
I decided that since I already knew what my keys looked like, I needed a better test. I closed my eyes and randomly turned my head toward the first metal object I felt.
I instantaneously came to the conclusion that it was pear shaped like a lampshade. I opened my eyes and discovered that it was a light fixture that was indeed shaped like a lampshade.
I tried this a few more times with other objects, and was surprised at how well I did. By sensing the magnetic fields around me, I could identify the shapes of nearby metal objects as quickly as a person with sight could. Apparently the constant shifting and sensing had made me automatically associate some shapes with certain magnetic fields. Once done with that, I left the room and returned to the dining room for some lunch.
Unfortunately, after lunch I had physical training. Which was really a euphemism for torture. I thought I had been in shape before coming to the Brotherhood. I was very wrong. So very very wrong.
After that physical training, I slowly made my way back to the dining room, careful not to push myself any harder than needed. I was sore, tired and hungry, and eating dinner could only solve one of these things. Like at all the other meals, conversion did not flow freely. Toad made a few awkward attempts to start a conservation but I shot them all down. Forget being polite, I did not have the mental or physical energy to do anything but fill my stomach and go to bed. Luckily the others didn't try to push me on this.
They did, however, laugh at my obvious exhaustion and stated that I'd get used to it.
I'll get used to it? I don't want to get used to anything here.
As you can probably guess, this comment went unsaid.
They were right though, I did somewhat get used to the harsh training regimen. I could run a bit longer without gasping for air, and do double the amount of sit ups I'd managed on my first day. I was still getting my ass handed to me by Mystique but what can you do? She's the best fighter in the organization. Even if I wasn't a fourteen year old string bean, I'd still stand no chance. Nonetheless, a routine did form.
I woke up early to watch the sunrise and try to skip rocks, eat, do a sudoku puzzle, train, spend my afternoon break exploring and planning my escape, train again, eat dinner and go to bed. I listened in on every conversation I could and tried to notice little things.
I put a tiny blue pen mark on an egg carton so that I could know when they were replaced. The container was replaced in two weeks, so I put another blue mark on the new egg container. If they bought eggs every two weeks I could then figure out the day they'd leave in advance. From there it was simply a matter of narrowing down what time they left and who did the shopping. Given what I knew about the others, it was very likely that it was Toad who did this.