Danielle's Tale

Chapter Two

10:30 AM, Friday October 10 2014 - Franks family home

A while later a large black SUV with the Lionheart Logo on the doors and hood pulled up to the house. Amber Fairchilde, I assume exited from the drivers side and strode up to the house. Despite her purposeful stride and the bullet-proof vest she wore, from what I could see, she would give any hollywood star or model a good run for their money.

She rang the doorbell, and I had to restrain the urge to run downstairs.

When my mother answered the door I could not hear what was being said, until the very end when my mom yelled “Take the little gene filth and dispose of it!”

I waited until Amber knocked on the door, wary of what insanity my mother might be up to I asked “Who is it?”

I heard a chuckle followed by a melodious voice, definitely not the shrill harpy-like screech of my mother. “I am Amber Fairchilde, and it seems I am here to liberate you.”

“Thank god,” I replied then unchocked, and unlocked the door, “Come in Ms. Fairchilde” I answered hefting my backpack.

“Please feel free to call me Amber.” She replied “but Hold on a second, I need you to wear this,” she said handing me a second kevlar vest.

I was a little unnerved by this, but followed her instruction, and then again hefting my pack I followed her downstairs.
My mother was standing in front of the door. “I’ve changed my mind,” she stated. “I’ve called H1, and they will collect the gene-filth. I can trust them to deal with it properly.”

“Stand aside.” Ms. Fairchilde commanded softly.

“No,” was the short terse response.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Amber calmly said flicking open and extendable baton. “But if you attempt to delay our exit, I will.”

Shaken my mother got out of the way. Keeping me close Amber checked out the door. “Run to the vehicle and get in the passenger side.”

Scared, but somehow comforted by her tone, and the vest she had made me wear, I did as instructed.

She followed me, gun drawn, scanning from side to side. Once she was in the SUV and belted in, she roared out the drive-way and down the street. It was just in time, three mud encrusted 4x4 truck screeched into the driveway we had just exited.

Shortly Amber turned into a gated underground parking lot. The Lionheart logo on the gate suggested that this was their HQ. Once we parked she took off her vest and told me I could take mine off as well. It was nice to know that we were no longer likely to be shot at.

11:00 AM, Friday October 10 2014 - Lionheart HQ

We went up to a reception area and Amber started to grill me about my mutant manifestation.

“When your father gets here,” she said, “we will all go to the MCO office to get you an M.I.D. so you can travel.”

“Travel?” I asked.

“Yes, you’ll be going to Whateley Academy, a boarding school in New Hampshire for mutants. You will be safe there and will be able to learn how to use your abilities to their best.”

“What about being trans?” I asked.

She laughed. “The best place in the world for you then. But before we get ahead of ourselves, we want to make the MCO process as painless as possible.”

“How do we do that?” I asked.

“First we find out what you can do, then we decide how much of that we tell the MCO. When you get to Whateley they will do a full test.”

“Ok I guess. Can I just show you?”

“That would work,” she said.

“Is there somewhere I can get out of these clothes so I can use the ones I can control?”

Amber looked a little lost, so I demonstrated by creating a long black leather coat, taking it off, putting on a chair, and then making it vanish.”

Expressions of comprehension, and then worry crossed her face. “OK, that’s one thing you do not want to show the MCO. What you did was manifest the coat, but very few manifestors can put what they make down without it vanishing, as such they worry the MCO, and a worried MCO is a dangerous MCO.”

I nodded, “so if they ask I do it like this?” and repeated the sequence, but causing the coat to vanish as I let go of it.

“Exactly, get ‘changed’, out the door and to the left is a handicap washroom.”

It didn’t take me long and I returned in my favourite girl form, dressed the same way I chosen earlier.

“Well, I asked?”

She frowned a bit. “You’re a bit larger, they don’t like that.”

I giggled, “I can be smaller, and changed into my mini-dragon and flew around the room a couple of times before changing back.”

I am not sure what her expression was, it looked a bit like amazement mixed with fear or worry, not sure.

“DO NOT SHOW THE MCO THAT!” she yelled once she collected herself.

“Ok, I won’t. How strong is the floor?” I asked,

“Pretty strong, why?”

“Well I haven’t tried this one, because if it works, I would have gone through the floor at home.”

With that I pictured my Unicorn. I had drawn it on a photo of the Budweiser draft team so I got the scale right, and had drawn it as about ⅓ larger then the horses of the team. Before I changed I decided that it would be best if I knelt on the front legs, as the room wasn’t really tall enough. I wasn’t sure if I could do the Unicorn, and was even more unsure about changing the pose from that of the drawing.

“This may not work,” I warned her, and then concentrated hard for a bit, and then tried the shift.

It worked. It wasn’t comfortable, but he gasp of shock made it worthwhile. I quickly shifted back, and of course re-manifested my clothes.

“Really don’t do that,” she said. “To be able to do such disparate sizes would likely have them disappear you at best.”

“Can you do a form that is closer to your normal form?” she asked.

“I consider this my normal form, but I think you mean how I was before?” I said

“Yes, that’s what I meant.”

“Ok, I can, but I don’t like it much,” I said, and transformed into the cheerleader form, complete with cheer uniform. “This do?” I asked. “I don’t like it much though.”

“That’s perfect for the MCO, but I agree, it doesn’t really fit you.” she agreed.

I nodded, I could see her point.

“So remember, when we go to the MCO centre, just the two forms, this and ‘the boy’”, she instructed. “And remember not to lose contact with anything, or at least, make sure it evaporates if you do.”

“Ok, I guess, what if they find out I lied though?” I asked.

She grinned. “You must learn young grasshopper, you are not lying, you are simply not telling everything. Besides, this is for a temporary MID with the understanding that a full battery of tests will be performed at Whateley, in those you must tell the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.”

I nodded, and went to pull out my sketchbook to pass the time before Dad came.

After a few minutes of silence, Amber asked how I was able to visualise the forms I changed into so well.

“I just pull the picture I have drawn into my mind, and let it direct the shift.”

“What if you haven’t drawn it yet?” she asked.

“I tried, but I can’t shift into it.”

She looked thoughtful, “Let me see your sketchbook a second.”

After I handed it to her she looked through it and posed a question. “So you could change into everything in this book?”

“I think so, I’d have to try them all, and I don’t think the big dragon would be a good idea.” I grinned, “It’ll probably be fun though.”

“What is it crouching over?”

“The plane?” I said off-handedly. “Nothing much, just a 747.”

Her eyes widened, “I want to be there when you try that.”

3:30 PM, Friday October 10 2014 - Lionheart HQ

Finally Dad arrived, I was not all that eager about going to the MCO, over the years I had heard enough to know that they did not have the best reputation vis á vie mutants. Amber’s warnings further re-enforced this.

“We have an appointment to get you an M.I.D. at 4:00,” he said, “ So we had better get moving.”

“Sure thing,” Amber said. “A couple of things first though.”

She opened a wall safe and pulled out three packages, handing one to Dad, one to me, and opening the third. I opened the packet and found what looked like a yarmulke, but with a set of three LEDs on the front. I looked questioningly at Amber.

“Psi shields, don’t lose it, it’s worth about fifty thousand bucks.” she said. “Officially, Telepaths, or those that employ them, are supposed to get verbal or written permission to probe your mind. They will ask permission, which you are not required to give, nor should you. These are just to keep them honest.”

Dad looked at her, “Are the MCO really that bad?”

Amber looked serious, “Worse,” then she handed Dad a kevlar vest, and told me to put mine back on.

He looked at it, “Is this really necessary?” he asked.

She held up a finger, then keyed her throat mike, “Confirmed, thank you.”

“Yes it is,” she addressed my dad, “We have already encountered Humanity First, and I just got notification that your wife transferred one-hundred thousand dollars from her personal account to a known H1 front, I am not sure if that was for their quick response when she called them this morning, or for further operations, most likely the later.”

“Bitch,” my father muttered, then pulled out his cell and quickly dialled. “I need to speak to Frank Chambers,” he said when it was answered. After a short pause, he continued, “Frank, those papers I signed, please date them and have a copy delivered to my wife.”

I had no idea who Frank Chambers was, or what my father was talking about.

“Yes, I am sure. Thanks,” and hung up.

Amber looked at him questioningly

“Divorce.” was his one word reply.

We then donned the yarmulke and vests, and proceeded to the MCO office.

As we drove over, Amber said “Let me do all the talking, even if they ask you a direct question. Agree to nothing. If necessary I will ask you for clarification or agreement.”

Shaken Dad agreed.