Chapter 7
The next few days were full of activity at the Institute. Beast declared that Scarlet had been knocked out with the old fashioned combination of a stunning blow to the head and chloroform. She recovered quickly, but she refused to speak to anyone other than Pete, secluding themselves in the hospital wing behind 'institutional green' paper curtains. She refused to take a place in the girls' dorms but stayed in one of the guest suites. Pete said she seemed to resent the fact that she had been rescued by those she considered the enemy, and while she admitted to Pete she could never trust Mystique again, Scarlet still clung to the idea that the Leader was working towards a better future for Mutants and he was the way forward. Pete was growing more and more frustrated at her obstinacy. Pete, on the other hand, had blended in at the Institute so well it felt like he had always been there. He quickly made friends with the younger students, settled into a dorm room, and could be found sitting unobtrusively at the back of class rooms during lessons. He wasn't technically an enrolled student, but the inclusive nature of the school meant he was welcome to spend the day however he liked; there was no charge for complimentary algebra.
Mirage was the focus of attention among his classmates as well as his circle of friends as someone who had had a very real adventure, probably a battle, even, with the X Men, while underage. It was something they all aspired to yet were completely sheltered from. Jubilee was particularly envious, and asked him for every detail- how the teachers worked together, the instruments in the Blackbird, everything. Mirage was asked by all to tell and retell the story. He got the feeling he would be sick of it soon, but he always found the patience to tell it just once more. And of course, when Mirage told stories, they truly came to life before his audience's eyes. The Blob in person became more menacing than just a big fat guy, and the manic glint in Avalanche's eyes gave a lot of kids the willies. The girls sighed at his projection of Mystique's eerie beauty while shuddering at her manipulation. Scruff spent his time frisking around ankles, making friend with everyone, and charming even the staff so the question never came up whether or not dogs were allowed. Everyone joined in taking care of him, and he became a bit of a school mascot. This went on over the few days it took for Chaz to meet the Professor as Jean had asked, as there were other things afoot.
Quite apart from Mirage's adventure, campus also buzzed with the presence of a dignitary who had come to visit the professor. He was a middle aged, yet still very vital Native American who called himself Forge. He could be seen stalking around the campus quite gracefully wearing bionic prosthetics he had designed himself. Forge was an inventor and engineer. After losing an arm and a leg in Vietnam, he'd retired from active duty military service and worked for the government on projects for the Air Force and the Space Program. It was rumoured he had designed every cool piece of technology the government had copyrighted in the past decade. Those who knew of the existence of such things insisted Forge had helped designed the Blackbird, the Danger Room, and the War Room. His prosthetic leg had functioning knee, ankle, and toe joints, far more sophisticated than the blade design that disabled athletes were wearing. Likewise, his prosthetic hand was like something out of Star Wars. He could even write with it.
Forge and the professor spent hours together each day, closeting in offices, touring the facilities, and interviewing the teachers, official X Men. Forge took his tablet everywhere, made notes about everything, and had an endless supply of questions. Neither Forge nor the professor spoke to the students, and the teachers were adept at dodging the students' curiosity.
Forge had brought with him two young men, brothers, the age of the older students. Their names were John and James Proudstar, but they went by codenames: Thunderbird and Warpath. Forge seemed to be a foster father or guardian of some sort to them. They held themselves separate from the students, though they weren't invited to Forge's meetings with Professor Xavier. If they had their own data collecting mission, they did it without making friends, or enemies. They just stood in the background, occasionally speaking in low voices to each other. The only exception to this rule was during Gym class, where they trained with the students. They were faster than everyone except Quicksilver, stronger than everyone but Rogue, and only Beast could occasionally match them. Rather than cracking jokes and goofing off, as Iceman, Jubilee, Mirage, and Gambit all had a habit of doing, they trained as if they were going to war with intense expressions and no chatter.
Finally the Professor asked Mirage to come to his official school office, the same place people went to get the Principal's Office treatment. Mirage couldn't help feeling a bit nervous before seeing Professor Xavier. Thought the Professor was always approachable and welcoming, he was such an important man and a respected one that Mirage couldn't help feeling awkward and self-conscious, as if he were meeting the president. With a deep breath to steady his nerves, he rapped his jagged knuckles on the door.
"Come in, Mirage," said the Professor. Chaz stepped in. In the room was not only the familiar sight of the Professor in his chair, but also the intimidating form of Forge, long black hair caught at the nape of his neck, bionic hand gleaming where it rested on his crossed arms.
"Mirage, I would like you to meet my friend Forge. Forge, this is Mirage." Forge reached out and shook Mirage's hand. Mirage did his best to return the strong grip and the steady gaze that Forge gave him without flinching at the cold steel. "Forge is visiting our school for a very specific reason, one I think you would be interested in. The government has asked him to create a program for young mutants interested in a career in National Defence. Our president has recognised the sort of asset mutant abilities can offer."
"There is the potential to create a mutant branch of the military, code named X Force, if the program goes well and the interest of potential recruits is there." Forge seemed to be sizing Mirage up, and Mirage wished for about the billionth time in his life that he wasn't so damn skinny. "Nobody has come as far in mutant training as your Professor, so this had to be my first stop for research."
"You'll have the chance to discuss the project shortly, Mirage, if you're interested." The Professor smiled at him as if they shared a secret. Forge picked up his tablet from the desk and faced them both.
"I look forward to our future conversations, Mirage. I hear you're the sort of young man I'm looking for. Good day, Professor."
"Forge," the Professor nodded in return. And then Mirage and Professor X were alone in his office.
"Take a seat, Mirage." Chaz sat, his knobbly knuckles resting on his knees. "Jean tells me you had quite the series of experiences over your Easter holiday. I've already interviewed the X Men, of course, but I would be very interested to see it through your eyes, if you would allow me."
"Sure, Professor, whatever helps." He cleared his throat. "Do I need to… close my eyes or something?"
"That often helps to relax the mind, yes," the Professor said with a smile. As soon as the office disappeared from Chaz's view, the events the past weeks flashed through his mind, not just the sights and sounds, but the sounds and smells and emotions that were wrapped up in it. The Professor, with great discretion, skimmed through the disgust, regret, and ultimate antipathy of leaving his parents' household, the grief and bitter-sweet joy of finding Scruff, and the gut churning fear of facing down the Brotherhood on his own as they tried to steal his bike, drawing on his Cyclops and Wolverine to make him brave. He dwelled a great deal on the time he had spent in Mystique's company, the indoctrination of Scarlet and Avalanche, and the quiet malice of the Blob. He also spent a long time studying Quicksilver. He must have thought he had seen the important elements when he came to Mirage's memory of the blast that could have killed him, were it not for Rogue. The professor slowed down and replayed that memory, taking in every sensation. Mirage felt the clammy brush of fog on his skin, the merciless steel tanker under his hands, the rough hollow scraping of his sneakers on the asphalt, and the loss of his senses as the blast struck- the remarkable absence of impact, the deafness, the blindness, the numbness.
"Forgive me Mirage, I will need to go deeper to understand this," the Professor's voice murmured. Suddenly Mirage's mind was reeling, everything was blinding flashes, random impressions- the colour pink, bright light, the scent of blood, the taste of cauliflower… it was as if his subconscious was squirming as a dentist probed for a cavity in his psyche. And as suddenly as it had begun, it ended.
"Chaz, you have certainly surprised me." The Professor was smiling at Mirage as he regained control of his mind. "Usually I can sense the complete extent of an individual's mutation immediately. I have failed to recognise your hidden depths. Please forgive me, I should have detected this and been preparing you for it." The Professor waited as Mirage shook his head, blinked, and rubbed at an ear. "That blast came from you."
"ME? It knocked me off the bridge, could have killed me! How could I do that to myself?"
"Mutant powers often manifest in times of stress, and you were certainly under pressure on that bridge. Your body reacted to stop the immediate threat- the tanker- without considering the other elements."
"So, if I did it, what was it? I mean, Storm said it knocked out the electronics on the Blackbird. How did I manage that?"
"Your power allows you to manipulate the electronic signals in the brain. That's how you create mirages. You aren't building anything tactile; you're altering the brain waves of the audience. I believe the blast was an extension of that; in effect, you created an eletro-magnetic pulse with your mind. You have the power to manipulate electric impulses in brain function to change a person's perception; you have also proved you can corrupt the flow of other electronic connections. You short-circuited the Blackbird's control panel, but I believe you could, with practice, just as easily set Bobby's ipod to shuffle when he's trying to listen to his work out playlist." A huge grin lit Mirage's face. "I would like to make it clear that was only an example, and not a recommendation," the professor added with an admirably straight face.
"Of course, Professor," Mirage agreed.
"This new facet of your power has very practical applications. You could short a missile guidance system, or corrupt the files of the Mutant Registration Program. And let's not forget that you could focus a numbing blast on the brains of people causing mass loss of consciousness. You might even be able to stop their brains completely…"
"Are you saying I could kill people?" Mirage asked, suddenly horrified.
"Potentially. You could, in theory, cease all electronic signals in a brain, causing brain death. Whether the brain would resume normal function afterwards…" the professor trailed off, shaking his head. "I cannot say, Mirage. We won't know what you can do until you have learned to control this ability and tested it safely."
"How do I test this safely?" Mirage asked, aghast.
"I don't know yet. I'll work on it with Hank, and if you give me permission, I will ask Forge to assist me. He is, after all, a genius."
"Uh. Sure. Yeah. Wow. I mean… I guess I'm struggling to take it all in…"
"I completely understand, Mirage. You have a lot to think about. I want you to take the rest of the day off, clear your head. I only request that you do not experiment with this new facet of your power unsupervised."
"Of course, Professor," Mirage agreed quickly. "Um, sir, would it be weird to… well… have a different code name…"
"As you would fulfil a completely different roll, it would be only sensible to reflect that in your call sign." The Professor smiled again. "You will be fine, Mirage, and you have several futures before you to choose from. You'll be welcome to stay on at the Academy, as an X Man, once you've had an extra year or two to refine this power. I know you're exactly the sort of recruit Forge would want for his military force, if you prefer warrior to educator. And of course, you can always go on to any college or career of your choice and lead a normal life."
"Thanks, Professor." Chaz stood up to leave. As he reached the door, the Professor spoke again.
"You will inform Jean, won't you, when you've made a decision about your call sign. The roster will need updating."
"Yes sir," Chaz replied, smiling as he left.
It was late in the evening, and Chaz sat in the quiet twilight on a pier on the lake with Jubilee at his side, occasionally waving away bugs. They had enjoyed a long conversation that afternoon. Chaz had confided in her about his new powers, his fears and confusion over the future and his worry for the fate of the twins. Across the lake, Pete could just be seen cheating in a game of basketball with his new friends as Scruff chased the dangling shoe laces of the younger boys. Bobby, too, was holding court on the obstacle course, the older students merely hanging out on the equipment as they would not be caught dead 'playing'.
"And he said I should have a new name," Chaz concluded.
"I can't believe that's one of your major concerns," she said witheringly. Chaz slugged her shoulder lightly, and surprisingly, Jubilee leaned in and kissed his cheek. Awkward silence swelled until she said, "Make a decision, quick, before these damn mosquitos eat us alive."
"Or carry us off to feed their young," Chaz agreed. He looked again at his knobbly hands, and thought about electronic pulses, surging through brains, connecting synapses, drawing pictures in the receptors for sight, for sound, for smell and memory. And then he thought of the way the Blackbird would have shuddered in the air as electronics failed, he pictured the groan of a student whose laptop was dying, of high scores wiped from Playstations, of school essays not backed up before crashes. He imagined the electrical bolts weaving through the world, connecting minds both physical and electronic, the blue light rushing knowledge and feeling throughout the world. He imagined himself making it dance.
"What do you think of Pulse?"