The Book of Chimera

      Rica herself said only a few words to the commissioner like I’m alive and well, but we have here— And then LeBeau took the walkie-talkie from her hand and began to speak. He was speaking very drily, formally, and without further details. Doing that, he was holding one hand on the steering wheel and managing to maintain a decent speed for those bad roads. The sky above their heads was darkening further despite the bright day, and behind their backs, there already were distant clashes of thunder and faint white flashes of lightning. And what Rica couldn’t chase away from her thoughts, was the show that Gambit put on right before the departure. If honestly, she couldn’t do it and didn’t want to. Better to cling on such a thing than— than even on the tilt nailed down to the ground with small stakes and lit up with purple shining.       The same shining wrapped Gambit’s playing cards that he swiftly laid out on the bare ground before him. There were five of them: like a diamond symbol, and the fifth one was in the center. Then he whispered something, clapped his hand on the grass — and one of the cards blazed especially bright and pointed north-west. And then all of them went out, except the central one. It flew up in the air and began to dance demandingly: follow me, how are you still standing, you dawdlers!?       They were following this card right now. Rica got a rough estimate of the direction and confirmed from memory that there weren't any ravines and rivers that could block their way, but there was a quite large green grove about an hour away. The Claytons almost didn't go there because their safari routes went to other places, and it was too far away for the pride…       Rica quivered, chased unwanted memories away, and realized that Remy had already put the walkie-talkie away and had been patiently asking her the same question for a second time.       “W-what..?”       “Are you thirsty?” Remy asked again while looking at her with empathy. “There’s a bottle with water on the back seat. And another one in the glove box.”       “No… thank you, I don’t wanna.”       A couple of minutes in silence. Then Gambit covered her wrist with his palm and squeezed it a little.       “My little saint mademoiselle… If you want to be silent, be silent. If you want to talk, talk. Or get some sleep. You said it yourself: we have a long way to go and there are no distinctive obstacles on our path.”       Rica sighed. Opened the glove box, took out the bottle, and took a drink of water that was traditionally warm, but this warmness was disgusting nevertheless… And then she began to spill it out. All and sundry, jumping from one subject to another. About how funny her dad could move his ears. About her mom who was not being able to make pancakes, but she could boil eggs in a way that they wouldn’t ever crack, even in the pot over the fire. About the impossibly green dress in her wardrobe… Letting it all go.       I’d rather be a beast right now. I have a purpose. I’m following the trail. I’m hunting. And nothing else matters.       About the nights in the tent when lions were roaring quite not so far, and snakes were rustling especially close but no one was afraid. About little bushmen who taught her to spit dry seeds out of straws and make whistles from acacia pods. About the time when Dad first let her drive and Mom stopped scolding her for scratched knees and dirty hands as she realized that her daughter didn’t want to be the second Charlize Theron…       I have to let it go, all of it. Not to forget, no. Just not think of it now. Because all this will never happen again. Never. Everything’s come to an end. But I’m a lioness now. I’m following the trail. I need to listen, to watch, and to catch smells. And I have to let go of all this…       Finishing on the moment that she’d been preparing to enter college for a third month in a row, Rica realized that her mouth was dry, and made another gulp from the bottle. While she was drinking, Remy chuckled and gave voice for the first time during her speech, “But do you want it? To go to college and then to the university”.       “I didn’t quite want it in the morning,” Rica admitted while wiping her lips dry. “It’s more interesting for me being here. But now— First, I still need to learn, of course, I do. And second, Mom and Dad— they counted on me very much. And I just have to not let them down.”       “Well, don’t you have any distant relatives?”       Rica shrugged indefinitely.       “I sorta had one Grandpa, Dad’s side of the family, either from Europe or from the USA… But we have never visited him, and he hasn’t come to us, either. Dad didn’t speak about him, and I didn’t ask. Either he’s passed away already, or he wasn’t excited about Dad’s choice— I don’t know.”       “I read about a Clayton once,” chuckled Gambit. “His age seems fit but he’s too high-flyer.”       “Well, he’s not the Lord Greystoke, obviously,” Rica laughed unexpectedly for herself. She felt a bit better as if after her stream of words, someone gently took a bluntly pulsing thorn out of her heart. And the flash drive in her chest pocket stopped to burn her body through the cloth. “And we’re not like Tarzans, anyway. No, I don’t know who exactly he was. But I think he was a scientist. He had a library, that’s for sure. In any case, Clayton is a common name enough; there are plenty of us anywhere where people speak English.”       “That’s true,” Remy nodded. “But what I’m getting at is that— You know who I work for. You know you’re different from other people, and this difference will be distinctive enough now. And the Professor — he’s a professor for good reason, he owns a school. And after this school, any university whose rectorate has any brains will seize you eagerly. Any one of them, because your certificate would be highly valued on the international level. Do you wanna think about it?”       “I do, and I definitely will,” Rica promised honestly, and then she suddenly yawned. “When we find your friend and I could think of anything except my following the trail…”       “That’s a dear.” Remy smiled and drew her cap peak over her nose. “Sleep now. You cried, you talked, you’re emotionally exhausted. You can hardly keep your eyes open, and we have some time. You’ll dream of nothing, I give you my word of a boy scout.”       “You have never been a boy scout, it’s just obvious,” the girl grumbled as she got herself comfortable on the seat, closed her eyes, and slipped easily into the realm of dreams hearing Gambit’s velvet laughter.        

***

      Remy was right: she dreamt of nothing. Moreover, after she had drifted off for less than an hour, Rica felt surprisingly refreshed and with new strength. She jumped out of the car quite as fresh as paint.       The wind wasn’t howling there just as much, and now and then, small rays of sunshine were still poking through the clouds that covered the sky. The storm hadn’t come here just yet, but it was obvious that they needed to hurry.       “Ok, then…” Gambit caught his pointing card and cautiously put it into his chest pocket to the rest of them. “A short briefing before we go anywhere at all. My friend’s name is Hank, and he’s the Beast, by nickname and literally. I mean, he’s big, hairy, with large paws and teeth. But with that, he has quite a human mind and an inadequately blue skin color.”       Rica chuckled and shrugged. Ok, so blue it was. Mutants…       “He doesn’t like when someone disturbs him during his vacation,” Remy said. He took a small pipe from under the seat, and with one move, he pulled it out turning it into a long metal staff. “That’s why he surely put some traps on the way to his lair. And he’s surely got a lair, and it’s hidden very well. You haven’t any rumors in the air about a scary blue yeti in these surroundings, have you?”       Rica smiled against her will and shook her head. “No, we haven’t. But if you know so well what it is to expect from your friend, why do you need me? We’re at the right place, and although this grove is quite big for the savannah, but not so big that you could get lost in it. How else can I help you?”       “I intend to use you impudently.” Remy spread his hands, and his face was so ingenuous that Rica wanted to laugh. “For I am a heartless New Orleaner, and I understand perfectly that my friend would surely swallow the bait in the form of a young mademoiselle with the X-gene in her blood and such a— history. Or else dare anyone to convince him to go back. And then again…” Gambit made a pause and knowingly rubbed his nose looking at the girl. “If you have that mutation that I think of, then you should develop a sense of smell and quite a good sight in addition to your regeneration and keen hearing. So you’d be of use to me in the matter of looking for traps.”       “But I don’t know how I managed to hear you that time,” Rica objected. “It was very sudden, and there’s no guarantee that I would be able to repeat that trick by will, not to mention other—”       But Remy already put his arm around her shoulders and made her follow. With a broad smile, he kept saying that was absolutely normal for a young mutant who couldn’t use her abilities, and where could she train them if not in practice, isn’t that right?       He’d chew a dead man's ear off, Rica thought and decided not to resist. All the more so she was interested in seeing the blue beast, and if she were in splendid solitude, the unwilling thoughts could return in her head…       They noticed the first trap in about 15 minutes. And Rica didn’t need any supernatural abilities for that. The quick eye of the girl who had been used to living out in the wild quickly caught some dissonance in the lying turf. It was clearly disturbed by someone’s hand. Gambit just nodded and carefully walked around the dangerous spot. He seemed to have seen such things in his lifetime.       They were walking in silence, without exchanging any words. Remy quickly learned the sign language of hunters and naturalists, and for some reason, Rica thought that there was something military in his moves that were short but smooth enough.       The next trap was noticed by Gambit; he didn’t let Rica step at the wrong place. Then she held his arm and didn’t let him turn some suspicious wine off his head. And so they went, supporting each other, obeying their gut and experience, not so fast but without easing down, like some Indian scouts: toe-to-heel, toe-to-heel… And Rica realized that she didn’t see any signs of the presence of an unusual and large animal. No claw marks, no pelted bark, no smelly scents — and least of all, no flocks of blue hair. The beast with a human mind actually didn’t want to be found by anyone: with such accuracy, he had destroyed all the traces of his presence in this area.       And something else was haunting Rica, until she realized after a while what exactly it was: the smell. A strange, unusual smell that was growing stronger as they were walking. It wasn’t the smell of a predator that she was used to. Rather an ape could smell like this, a gorilla or a chimp. They didn’t range in the RSA, but Rica saw them when the Claytons went to Central Africa as a family, by invitation of their fellow zoologists. Except that—       Rica bit her lip and almost lost her pace. She realized what was haunting her: an ape could smell like that when it was— well, let’s say five steps ahead. But there was nothing nearby, and the underbrush wasn’t so thick to—       The girl threw a side glance at her companion. She couldn’t see on Gambit’s face that he smelled something unusual. And that was not the case he could have gotten accustomed to his friend’s smell. In that case, he would have definitely said that they were close.       He didn’t smell it. That was all.       And the smell grew even stronger. At some point, Rica touched Gambit’s arm and silently pointed at her nose. And then forward. Gambit broke into a satisfied ravenous smile and gave her a thumbs-up. And Rica rather guessed with her gut than saw it in his eyes: he’d been waiting for it. He anticipated to be the first one to see the unveiling of another side of the young mutant’s gift. There was something adorable in it for him: as if he watched a fluffy yellow spring chicken or a flap-eared puppy that had a hard time keeping its tiny legs.       A slight sensation and understanding of someone else’s emotion came over — and subsided. Rica didn’t take offense. She felt like quite a spring chicken herself.       Gambit touched her shoulder to stop her. And Rica figured out that her thoughtfulness distracted her from everything that was happening around her. And there was a small round meadow happening around, almost perfectly round, and they were standing beside its center, just a little to the right. Remy reached with his staff to the left, to the very central point. He banged the ground and drew the staff back. There was a loud crack, a shrill whistle — and a net that didn’t catch anyone flew into the air, to the tops of the trees.       “Hank, we’re friends!” Remy yelled merrily with a hand over his mouth. Rica gave a start of surprise: after so many minutes in silence, this yell sounded thunderous to her.       Gambit plopped down on the ground and tapped beside him with his palm.       “Sit down, don’t stay around. There’s a chance we’d have to wait for him.”       “And why have we tried to be hidden all this time if you’re so loud right now?” Rica asked and sat down on the grass.       “Well, we were tracking him down,” Remy chuckled and carelessly laid his staff across his knees. “This is our tradition, Rica. It’s more interesting that way.”       They waited not for long. Five minutes later already, branches began to crackle — and something jumped down to the clearance out of the trees. It was massive but dexterous, muscular, dressed only in short dark shorts — and covered with blue fur, in real. The Beast stood up straight and bared his yellowish fangs in a friendly smile. Remy stood up with one jerk and went toward him extending his hand.       “They’ve sent you for me, after all,” said Beast with a low roaring voice. He answered the handshake of his friend and hugged him. “And there I was, thinking that Charles took my hint.”       “You mean the term of your absence, don’t you?” Remy grinned and pressed his elbow. “Or did you use those mental practices of yours again, trying to hide from Cerebro? Unsuccessfully, as I take it.”       “Unsuccessfully,” Beast agreed yieldingly and squinted his eyes as he looked at Rica from behind Gambit’s shoulder. “And who’s with you? A new recruit?”       “Not quite,” Remy sighed and turned to the girl. “Rica, meet Henry Philip Hank McCoy, or just Hank. Hank, this is Federica Clayton, a local native, a young zoologist, a mutant since today’s morning, and just a beautiful saint mademoiselle who came to my threshold with three bottles of beer. And also she’s a guarantee of the fact that you’d get your hairy arse in gear and come with me to the car, and after that, to the plane. Because we need you, my friend. And Charles needs you extra.”       Beast wagged his fluffy pointed ear and made a dull guttural sound, something between chuckling and snorting. It sounded like doubt, and curiosity, and certainty that the trick wouldn’t come off. Gambit put his arm around his shoulders, turned him aside, and began to talk quietly. Rica turned away and even made a few steps aside for she desperately didn't want to hear what he was speaking of now. And… Perhaps, spirits guarded her. This time there was no click in her head, and Remy’s steady voice was merely a vague wordless sound on the back of voices of nature.       In a bit of time, a powerful blue ape paw laid down on the girl’s shoulder. Rica shuddered a little and turned around. Beast looked at her closely with his brown and very, very human eyes, with such understanding and empathy that she hardly fought back welled-up tears.       “Everything will be alright, kid,” Hank said and pressed her shoulder with his prehensile fingers, pressed carefully and even gently. “Everything will be alright.”       Rica swallowed a lump in her throat and nodded silently. Beast let her go and turned to Remy.       “Are you aware that you are a hell of a manipulator, my friend?”       “I am, I am,” he grinned gravely, took a small black case out of his coat’s pocket, and gave it to Hank. “Here you are. Or do you think that I’m gonna be at the controls on our flight back?”       Beast opened the case carefully, with two fingers, and snorted. On the blue velvet, there was an elegant pair of spectacles with a thin metal rim. Rica couldn’t but smile as she remembered the image of the scientist with a consumer basket on his head that she imagined so long ago, a lifetime back — this morning…       Hank gave a long sigh, hooked the glasses on his snout, and moved them down on the nose.       “Where is your car, you fiend? Come on now. The storm will come here soon. And not the one we both would wish to see…”