I meant to post this chapter Friday but I was sidetracked writing the sequel. I tend to immerse myself in my writing and it takes me time to emerge from it and dry off. And I do want to thank Bill for his encouragement and editing book one and Ashleigh for her editing this sequel.

Atalanta is tested for her powers and the results are mixed and surprising. She also reveals her code-name and drops a bombshell on Bardue and Nikki.

Chapter 19

“It is a shortcut to the testing lab,” he replied leading me down a corridor to a series of rooms where most of the testing was scheduled. Bardue opened a door leading to a large room with all kinds of machines in it.

There we were met by a rather chubby fellow in a lab coat, and a tall man flanked by Dr Tennent. A fourth man stood off to one side observing. At a far corner was yet another tech fiddling with some machines. He didn't look up.

“I'm Dr Hewley,” he began rubbing his palms together, “the guy in the lab coat is, “Dr Polland,” pointing to the chubby man, “and the guy in the back is Dr Bellows. He is your advisor. The mad scientist fiddling with the machines is Chris. And I believe you have already met Dr. Tennent.”

“We’ve met,” I admitted dryly.

Now,” He continued unperturbed still beaming, “let’s sit down and get some background on you. We will record this, and for all your power testing you need a codename. Have you picked out one yet?”

I nodded, “I’m partial to Equal,” which raised eyebrows.

“Equal,” the word echoed off each lip, “Why Equal? Codenames usually describe a mutant’s power.” That was Dr Hewley speaking.

“The simple answer is that Equal describes me, and in a roundabout way, my powers. I believe I have a base power set that is nudging the extremes of baseline human, but when I’m threatened I receive help to meet the situation. And the name Atalanta means equal.”

Dr Hewley nodded, “let me start with what I've been told and you jump in and correct me, alright.” He didn't wait for nods but dove right in, “You transitioned in May of last year at basically the extreme upper limits of human capacity.”

I agreed, “I believe I imprinted on the BIT of Atalanta, an archetype.”

“From your descriptions you fit better as a paragon and exemplar of Atalanta, probably a level one paragon and exemplar three.”

“I believe Avatar two is a better indicator,” Dr Pollard objected, “it seems we’re talking a single spirit and powers just above or at human levels. I agree with exemplar level which includes some regen power that according to her application morphed into healing regen.”

“Good, good,” exclaimed Dr. Hewley,” now let’s get to the second transformation. As I understand that was triggered when your life was in danger.”

“Yes,” I replied shuddering at the memory.

“...and that you have since, gained additional powers; those possibly coming through being imbued, or by an avatar. What I think what we are looking at is an imbued paragon exemplar with acquired esper, healing, warper/energizer, and probably wizard traits all at or below level three.”

“This,” cautioned Dr Pollard, “is preliminary and testing will probably combine or rule out some categories.”

“Atalanta, do you understand the terms and meanings as we use them at Whateley referring to powers and levels?”

“Yes sir, as much as I'm able. I have read the packets from the school.” I hesitatingly bit my lip, “I don't know if it makes a difference but after the sex change I believe I became an Exemplar of Atalanta using her for my BIT, not as an avatar.”

Dr Bellows spoke, “I’d be interested in your description of the difference.”

“Well Doctor, I didn't get noticeably stronger or quicker, what I did notice was an attitude change. An attitude that seems to mesh with what I’ve read on Atalanta. I think I got her body and attitude but not her spirit. With that change in attitude I began to train...like for an Olympic event and it just so happened that a former Seal was available to train me in JKD and combat arts. As a guy it wasn't anything I was interested in but as a girl I couldn't get enough. I also seemed to inherit a love to hunt and train with both modern and primitive weapons. I also found I could track animals and people. At the end of 14 months of training with Mr. Black my senses, mind, and body were well trained and toned, and at the upper level of human capacity. Based on the stories of Atalanta that I’ve read it fits her more than it did me.”

Dr. Hewley interjected, “I believe we are talking about a difference without a distinction but I believe you also had other changes besides sex.”

“Yes,” Atalanta admitted, “my eyes changed from blue to green and are now gray with some green and gold flecks, my hair from light brown to auburn with copper highlights and my complexion from cold to warm. I also believe I picked up some Mediterranean DNA. These changes were for the most part just richer or deeper hues. I didn't change races or get white, green or purple hair. Set against the change of sex it was pretty small.”

Dr Polland added, “Now about your recent change. We understand that happened when your life was in danger.”

I was slow to respond as I relived the events that led to being shot. “My Mom, who is a doctor, was kidnapped to treat a gunshot wound by some people who broke a guy out of jail. I took matters into my own hands to track them down and I managed to rescue her with the help from the sheriff and his posse. After it was all over with, the guy who had been shot shot me with a gun he had hidden under his blanket. He was a member of an earlier group which I also tracked down and captured, that had previously kidnapped a pair of seven year old twins. I guess he was exacting revenge.”

“What happened after you were shot?”

“My Mom tells me that my owl crashed through the window, stood guard over me, and then seemed to disappear. When I came to, this was on my left shoulder,” I replied pulling up my sleeve to reveal my tattoo like replica of Harvard.

I frowned as they all gathered to look.

“I don’t think that is a tattoo,” Dr. Bellows observed.

“It is not a tattoo but I believe it is a birthmark.”

“Well it’s obvious that Athena and the owl are intertwined; it’s her symbol. The owl is a messenger for many cultures scattered all around the globe but for the Greeks it was Athena’s symbol and Atalanta was a protégé of Artemis and not Athena.” Dr. Ophelia Tennent paused in her lecture to direct a question at me, “Why didn’t you point these out while I was doing your physical?”

“It was listed on my medical records that my Mom, the doctor sent. I assumed you had read it,” I replied mildly before adding smugly, “besides as you told me you’re the expert.”

Dr. Tennent’s retort was interrupted by an excited shout from Dr. Hewley, “This puts a different spin on testing her powers and classification.”
“How so Doctor, it seems to me nothing much has changed,” Dr Tennent interjected.

“I beg to differ; Miss Reid believes that she is an Exemplar and that she used Atalanta as her BIT, or her archetype. A reincarnation if you will of the body but not the spirit of Atalanta. She has demonstrated that to my satisfaction with her testimony.”

I flashed Dr. Hewley a brilliant smile, “Thank you.”

“That testimony includes a vision where a woman, undoubtedly Athena, tells her, that she will place her seal on her body. The owl is I suspect just one part of that seal.”

Let’s get started,” Dr. Hewley spoke excitedly, rubbing his palms together. His exuberance broke the inquisition and I followed the group to a door that opened to reveal a large and well equipped gym with an Olympic size pool. There I was directed to change into my workout clothes.

Over the next three hours I was tested with everything they had available; from rowers, to elliptical trainers, the treadmill, to the weights and finally the pool. Mixed in were agility, and reaction tests with cardio endurance.

They cut short the endurance and cardio exercises. Twenty minutes at 25 mph and at a nine degree incline had done very little to affect my BMR. They tried to catch me by surprise several times by slowing the treadmill to a walk from the jogging pace, while changing the slope.

Twelve laps around the pool and they called a halt to that test when the monitors showed that it might take several hours to raise my metabolic rate much above resting.

Another anomaly became apparent when lifting weights; five hundred pounds seemed to be my limit but I could apparently lift that weight indefinitely as my metabolic rate and muscle tissue showed very little stress.

So, while I didn’t have super physical powers, my body seemed to tap into the atmosphere and make use of the ambient energy, converting it into sucrose, amino acids and oxygen to fuel increased demands. At least that seemed to be their working theory. That explanation worked for me.

The average human response/reflex time is 0.75 seconds mine was timed repeatedly at 0.001seconds or a millisecond. To blink an eye takes a third of a second. Their interpretation was either that I was sensing intent through the ether; a type of precog ability, or that I was warping time for brief milliseconds.

We finished with floor exercises and gymnastics, testing my flexibility and resiliency.

“That’s enough; we’ve learned all we can here,” Dr. Hewley muttered, “let’s go down the hall to the reinforced testing area.”

That sounded ominous.

We walked several hallways twisting along the underground tube until we turned a corner and stopped in front of a door marked test lab one. Dr. Hewley producing a key unlocked and opened the door.

When he did I immediately felt as if a thousand violins were playing a thousand different melodies, and all of them out of tune.

“Ugh,” I exclaimed clamping my hand over my ears and reeling backwards. My gaze narrowed with my eyes flashing as I became aware of the web of discordant energy that pulsed in the room. Luckily it stopped at the door and I was able to view and probe it safely from a distance in the hall.

Dr. Tennent stopped, noticing my distress and asked, “What’s wrong?”

“An energy or something in there is really out of tune; it feels like nails on a blackboard,” I shivered eyeing the jarring waves that danced off the walls and ceilings.

The doctors and technicians were veterans of many such tests, and while some test subjects had felt the subtle energy patterns employed in the room, none had either seen them, or reacted so violently, in their presence. The lab was one of several that were warded, and that were used with mages, with protection circles etched in the floor to contain and dampen the magic. That was standard procedure for new magicians.

“I don’t understand,” Dr Polland began, “are you telling us you can see this energy.”

“Yes I can see it, it’s hard not to.”

“Can you change it into a form that you can work with?” Dr. Tennent asked.

I nodded, “Yes I think I can, but I don’t know what the result would be, and doesn’t that kind of defeat the purpose for the wards?”

“It does, but what do you mean you don’t know what the result would be?”

Feeling a familiar tingle in my shoulder I replied, “There is a lot of unnecessary energy in there I need to absorb or bleed off, and then recalibrate what’s left. But if you give me time I think I can insulate myself against its effects.”

“Okay, we will get someone to set up a smaller room and see what happens. In the meantime there are other tests we can do,” the ever exuberant Dr Hewley explained as he led us to a smaller room down another hallway.

“This test is designed to study your reflexes, stamina and any precog ability,” Dr Hewley began explaining, “Balls will shoot out from the walls at you from all directions with increasing speeds and quantity. The objective is to not let them hit your body; however, you can use your hands and feet to deflect them or dodge them altogether, any questions?”

“Can I use my head?” I asked smiling.

“Not in this test you can’t, no,” he replied poker-faced.

Party Pooper!

The room resembled a handball court with windowless, high, unbroken walls and the door that seamlessly shut behind me. Walking to the room's center I meditated drawing in energy and expanding my centers to move energy more effectively. I gave a silent nod indicating I was ready.

Soon a red ball came at me that I choose to block with my forearms. Then they came in increasing amounts and colors, changing speeds. Soon after, they came from varying heights and from the corners speeding towards the room's center. I didn't think they were seeking my heat signature but rather seemed to be covering the room in patterns.

Patterns that eventually would result in enough balls at every conceivable space to be unavoidable.

Before that could happen though my concentration was tested as not all the balls were coming at me at the same speed, or the same colors, and some were blinking. The balls stung my arms and feet where I blocked them.

I knew it was just a matter of time before I miscalculated a ball's speed, or two or more balls converged at a sufficient angle to make escape impossible. The balls were now being launched from behind me as well and the room was buzzing with whirling, multi-color orbs. Then something unexpected happened; time seemed to slow down and several balls seemed to pass right through my body as if that part of me blinked in and out of existence. Astonished, I lost my concentration and control of the pattern, and seconds later was whacked by several balls at once.

Immediately they shut down the test and the door was opened and I was surrounded by several doctors.

“Congratulations,” beamed Hewley, “you lasted 3 minutes and 23 seconds which is the very best time we ever recorded, but what happened there at the last? It looked like several balls passed right through you without touching you.”

“I don't know it surprised me too,” I admitted, “and I lost my focus.”

“Well it looks like some sort of warper power and maybe precog as well, though you may be sensing patterns,” Dr Tennent opined, “very impressive.”

“Are you ready for your next test?”

I nodded numbly, my mind still on what exactly happened to me in that room. As we walked down more corridors towards the next testing area Dr Hewley explained, “This next test is usually not administered by us, or at this step, but since we are still waiting on a room we’ll take advantage of your training at the gun range. Sergeant Bardue will conduct these tests.”

The room we found was an underground gun range except the targets were substantially more solid that the cardboard types I was used to.

Bardue led me over to a locked cage that held a variety of weapons, “Select a couple of pistols and a rifle,” he directed.
I looked at the rows and rows of weapons, “Any chance you have a Ruger .40 S&W and a M1A1 in there anywhere?”

Wordlessly Sergeant Bardue retrieved the two pistols and the rifle which he handed to me. From another locked cabinet he produced magazines and ammunition. I followed him to the shooting bench where he handed me glasses and ear plugs.
“Okay what do you want to see me do in here,” I asked a little perplexed at the layout.

“I want to see how well you shoot and how good your training is.”

I acknowledged his challenge while I waited for everyone in the room to prepare.

“When you’re ready,” Bardue announced. I stood silently a few minutes frowning at the silhouette 25 yards down range before snatching up the pistol and magazine and snapping it in place. In one smooth motion I brought the weapon to shoulder height and began firing.

The shots blended into one long roar with tongues of flame licking at the shuddering figure suspended from the ceiling; some of its stuffing laying on the floor. Five seconds later the slide hung open on the last shot.

I released that magazine and snapping another in place snatching the second pistol in my right hand I used my left to feed a magazine into its handle.

The next step was the typical hostage scenario and I moved weaving between obstacles while dodging simulated fire. I ran the gauntlet without being hit or hitting any hostages while hitting 29 of 30 targets.

Bardue was all smiles when I got back to the starting area, “Good job Atalanta, don’t worry very few people get anywhere near a perfect score. Let’s see how well you shoot a rifle.”

He had targets for me at 100, 300, and 500 yards and ten shots at each distance free hand. I was confident as we had trained almost every day for a year at these same distances. Most shots hit the one inch inside circle with just two in the second ring and none from inside 500 yards.

“That’s very good,” Bardue remarked taking the cleared weapons from me and replacing them inside the cage.

“They should have the small room set up now for you Atalanta,” Dr Polland interjected as he led the way down hallways until we came to a small alcove.

Clustered in the hallway were four additions to our group, I recognized none except Mrs. Carson and Nikki O’Reilly. The others were introduced as Circe and Eliza Grimes who were both members of the mystic arts department.

Mrs. Carson, as Headmistress, began, “In all my years here, no student has reacted to the warded room and protected circle as you have. It appears you have an affinity for magic, but in a different pattern than expected. I'm here in my official capacity as caretaker of the Academy, and the rest of the faculty is here, to observe the interactions and to understand what, if anything happens outside the ordinary. Nikki is here because her magic use is not standard either, so maybe she will see something the rest of us don’t see. These wards are of the same pattern, but not as extensive or powerful, as the other wards were. Now Atalanta, if you will just walk into the room and tell us what you are experiencing.”

I nodded stepping tentatively into the alcove, “It’s not as strong, but I do get a kind of probing feeling like it’s bouncing off me, and it’s most distracting.”

To Fey, and the other mages present, the wards seemed to part for her and then snap back into place as she passed; almost working as a shield. From the framework of the field it was as if she didn't exist.

An idea came to Fey as she watched the interplay between Atalanta and the wards, “Atalanta do you mind if I cast a little fireball spell at you?”

“Sure go ahead.”

Fey called a limited knot of magic from her body, forming a small ball of fire and aimed it at Atalanta. It passed right through the fabric until it touched the threads immediately surrounding Atalanta. They then flared as the magic dissipated along the threads becoming weaker as they moved outward. The field also seemed to be reorganizing into a different weave.

Surprised murmurs followed the display.

“Atalanta,” called out Mrs. Carson, “see if you can interact with or affect the wards.”

“Okay.” I searched inside myself and found the core of essence that had awakened in me two months ago, pushing it out and into my arms and then my fingers. Reaching out I touched the lines of magic which began to vibrate and change colors, radiating out. Once the change was complete, the outer lines began drawing inward. It quickly became apparent that the wards were shrinking and strengthening; acting as a living thing rushing inwards in a swirling vortex and accumulating in me making my body glow and vibrate with the increased energy. A warm glow that quickly escalated until I felt ready to explode. I heard someone shout a warning as a purple light radiated out from my hands and fingers and exploded against the far wall. No, not a typical explosion with backpressure but more like a torch effect sending a shower of sparks as the energy bolt melted a six inch hole through three inch boiler plate steel and extending another five or six feet into the dirt behind it. I remained fixated as did the rest of the group.

“What just happened,” someone asked? That question seemed to unleash a torrent of answers, statements, guesses and claims. Bedlam resulted for a moment until Mrs. Carson gained control.

“Everyone calm down and take a deep breath. I want each of your opinions, one at a time. We'll start with Dr Hewley and work to my right and end with you Atalanta.”

“The wards did not seem to react to Atalanta at all, as they are designed to.” Each instructor added more observations to the mix, but Fey summed it up best, “Those wards were weak, but they didn't react to Atalanta except to shield her, which they did when I tossed that fireball spell, like she was not there or a part of the network. The pattern also seemed to be shifting to match her coherence. What would have happened if or when that happened is anyone's guess.”

“Ever since being shot,” I noted when my turn came, “and I acquired this seal, I've been able to call up reserves of what I call energy. That energy is what I used to touch the matrix and that's when everything started going crazy.”

“I think a few more experiments are needed,” began Mrs. Carson, “Atalanta do you think you can do what you did but outside the ward this time?”

I shrugged, “I don't see why not.”

In minutes I constructed another ward and this time I stood from outside repeating the touching as I did before. A tiny whirl was heard as the wards shimmered and blinked off.

“Did you feel anything?” Mrs. Carson asked.

“Just a tingle,” I admitted.
“Okay construct another just like the first one,” Mrs. Carson directed.

This ward shimmered brighter and a pop was heard as it winked out and I felt a sharper twinge. I constructed a third that was twice as powerful as the one I had merged with. I directed my energy through my fingers to the web interface and a white spark jumped from my fingers into the cords holding the wards together which pulsed brightly and as the strands died another spark jumped from it into me. I staggered to my knees from the jolt. My eyes flashed from gray-green to red and back to gray-green. “Damn,” I muttered, “that stung.”

Mrs. Carson looked at her watch, “It’s after 5pm and time for dinner. Sergeant escort Atalanta to the dining hall. The rest of you,” turning to her instructors, “I want your reports and recommendations by tomorrow noon. And Atalanta, I want you stay out of trouble and Sergeant I expect you to see to it. By trouble I mean stay away from wards or using magic until we get a better understanding of the exact nature of your powers.”

“Am I under house arrest then?” I demanded.

“In a way, yes you are. I want you and the students safe. You don’t know your way around here yet and you don’t have a firm grip on the nature, nor the extent of your powers. Until further notice I want a member of security with you wherever you go on campus.”

“Not that I’m protesting, but I’d like to point out that any problems that have occurred were interactions with other people’s magic. But,” I smiled, “I have no problem with temporary, reasonable rules nor do I intend to make any trouble.”

“That’s sweet of you dear,” Mrs. Carson smiled sweetly back as she turned to retrace her steps and we fell in behind her.

“Sergeant Bardue, Nikki, I'm sorry I have screwed up your day.”

“Comes with the territory,” Bardue sighed, “just don't make a habit of it okay.”

“Actually it was cool and interesting,” Nikki observed, “but what happened before I got here?”

“Everything went to hell in a hand basket when we went to test if I had any magic in that shielded room. The pattern or weave ...whatever you call it, picked at me like dragging fingernails on a blackboard. Just out of synch: Incoherence.

So they had me do some other test while you guys did your thing,” I shrugged.

“Well,” Nikki began, “I never saw someone interact with warding the way you did by not disturbing it and then just absorbing it. I don't have to tell you that you came close to melt down.”

“Yeah that surprised me; all that energy rushing in felt like I was going to explode if I didn't do something and quick.”

“You'll have to learn how to control the amount you take or else channel it into something like an enchantment to use later.” Nikki cautioned.

“You’re right,” I replied turning to Bardue, “Sergeant now might not be the best time for me to bring this up, but I have a question or favor to ask,” I uttered biting my lip and tentatively continued, “back home I was a bounty hunter.”

“Excuse me,” Both the Sergeant and Nikki stopped and were staring at me slack-jawed.