The Book of Chimera

      Remy was wrong about one thing — regeneration was a very useful thing during the acclimatization! Instead of a week in bed with fever, apathy, and shivering, Rica was up and about after two days plus that evening when she had arrived. She was placed in a separate room where everything was different from her former house. The bed was without a mosquito net, the wood of the furniture was darker, and books on the shelves were not the same, and the closet lacked a mirrored wall… And also, it was horribly humid. Familiar sounds were absent, and very unfamiliar ones were present: squeaks and sounds of an old house, rustling of leaves outside the window, echoes of children's voices from the corridors, and drumroll of raindrops that were ready to shed just any time.       Rica was sleeping almost permanently. She didn’t have any dreams about Africa. Practically, she didn’t dream of anything except feeling confident and safe like an animal in a secured hole. All this time, she was cared for in turns, by a pretty redhead woman named Jean, and Ororo, with her unusual snow-white hair; her dark skin was typical for natives of East Africa. Jean, the same Jean Grey Gambit was talking about, amused the girl by levitating food and dishes. Ororo called herself Storm and had power over the weather in general and lightning in particular. Rica enjoyed speaking with her in African tongues and made sure that she could keep a piece of home even here.       Remy visited her a couple of times. He brought fruits and chocolates but he was so chatty that her vigilant nurses chased him away very quickly, both of them. He laughed, avoided towels and weak electric charges they threw at him, and escaped out the door with hands up calling it tactical withdrawal.       However, no one stood by the girl’s bedside constantly. She could be easily left alone, especially when she was asleep. And, during her very first visit, Jean smiled and said, “If you need anything and no one is around, just think about it as loud as you can. Either me or the Professor would hear you. And don’t be afraid of anything. Here, in this school, you’ll never be alone… only if you’d want it for yourself.”       And even in the middle of the night, waking up because of the heat in every part of her body, Rica just addressed the air with very loud thoughts. And, after a couple of minutes, her forehead was covered with a cool piece of cloth that smelled of familiar (and not very familiar) herbs, and someone put the glass with water on her lips. A couple of sips, and a couple of soft words, and the girl fell into oblivion again, where she still wasn’t bothered by any dreams.       Professor Xavier didn’t visit her. But, again and again, Rica remembered their conversation on that first evening when she’d been staggering along the foot-worn pathway among the ripe spring green. On the right, Gambit was hugging her shoulders carefully, and on the left, there was the Professor in the wheelchair rolling with quiet buzzing.       “I will not tire you with all the details. You are overwhelmed with an incredible amount of information anyway,” he told her while squinting at Remy with a faint smile. And Remy just clenched his palm tighter on her shoulder and cocked his nose even higher, either proudly or embarrassed. “But I can tell you one thing immediately: your presence here is absolutely legal. At one point — and I don’t ask you to think about it now but you should know — someone of us, the grown-ups, would become your official guardian. No one will take you from here, Federica Clayton, for as long as you wish for it yourself.”       And once again, Rica was overwhelmed by her worst fear of people in suits and with lead-colored eyes but it was not for long, just for a few seconds. And she wondered how this old and tired man could so accurately choose exactly those words she needed to hear. And then she remembered the sound of his voice in her head and scolded herself for stupidity. Of course. He’s a telepath. Of course, he knows.       And she felt another careful touch at her mind, and another, and once more. Just like a soft cat’s paw carefully touches something hot or cold, only with a thought: could I? are you not disgusted? are you not afraid? do you give me your permission?       And, layer for layer like an onion, Rica was opening herself towards those soft touches, and she didn’t let them to some places but invited them somewhere else, the contrary. And they were walking further and further, and Xavier was talking…       “You will hear a lot of strange things here but no one would offend you.” — “I can see and hear everything and everyone here. But even I have my principles.” — “Of course, initially, the students would act tough and grandstand in front of you but we do not have any traditions of putting our novices to the test.” — “Tell me what I must not see, place your boundaries, and I give you my word — I will not impinge on the inner sanctum that you have been keeping in your heart.” — “You will have several days to settle down, and then you will join our educational process. Do not be afraid, you will get help.” — “I am not the best man, Rica… But I will do you no harm. I promise.”       And Rica believed him. And she absolutely didn’t care if this confidence was her own or induced, inserted by this powerful man that nobody could call a cripple with all the will in the world. Out of somewhere deep, not out of the depths of mind but of her gut, like a deep animal sense, an understanding was rising: she was safe. This was a good place. The girl who became an orphan and lost all her world in one day could find a home here. Family. Friends. Case. Purpose. If she wanted to. And if not… No one would forbid her to choose.       And this time, as she was watching at the white ceiling and hearing a ball bouncing and cheerful shouting, Rica realized once again: there was no feeling of a golden cage, of captivity, of a zoo where she had been lured with pretty words and a piece of meat. When she would claim and prove herself to be able to answer for herself, she could leave this place and go anywhere. To live. To be herself. But for now…       For now, Rica Clayton touched her forehead (warm, not a drop of sweat) and realized that she was starving. But she didn’t call anyone. She strained her entire body and left the bed with one jump while feeling a fantastic energy surge. Her shiver was gone, her apathy vanished, and her muscles responded perfectly, every one of them. Rica stretched her arms, threw back her head, spun round and round herself…       And then she smiled.        

***

      Her clothes were given to her. There was no established uniform here; everyone was wearing their own thing without any jackets with emblems or pleated skirts. However, jeans, T-shirts, shirts, and sneakers were comfortable and properly fitting.       Feeling a bit uncomfortable in new and a bit stiff garms, Rica stuck her nose out the door carefully. Right away, the nose detected lovely scents of pastry, oatmeal milk, and eggs with ham. Rica swallowed water in her mouth, sucked in air with her nostrils (this air was so thick for her now that she could taste it in her mouth), and followed the scent.       The dining room happened to be very similar to the Great Hall in Harry Potter movies, only a bit smaller in scale. And not so crowded both with children and with grown-ups; apparently, not everyone was there yet. There were two long rows of tables; the teachers were eating separately. Xavier was sitting at the central seat, and Rica felt his friendly and encouraging mind touch right away. Hank left his soft-boiled egg for a moment, looked at her through his glasses, and smiled showing all of his fangs. Beside him, Remy waved his hand at her in full view of everybody, and the girl awkwardly waved him back.       A narrow palm came down on her shoulder: Jean came up from behind quietly.       “And here I was, going to bring you breakfast”, she smiled. “But I sensed that you were going for it yourself. Well, if you’re feeling so well, take a tray, go to the food counter, and then, take any free seat. They’re not reserved to anyone here.”       As she was going to the server window with an empty tray and going from it with a full tray, Rica was examining her future teachers and fellow students. Beside her acquaintances at the teachers’ table, a tall man was sitting there, in strange glasses with a narrow scarlet slot. The glasses tightly adjoined his face. Jean came up to him, gave him a light kiss on the temple, and sat down next to him. Rica guessed it was the Scott a.k.a. Cyclops she had already heard of. Next to him, a light-haired young man with a small tidy beard placed his palm over his glass with some fruit drink, and an actual rime crawled over thin glassy walls. A cold air drifted from it. But no one paid attention to it. Actually, it was an absolutely common thing around here…       Rica winked and cautiously sat down a bit away from the other students. They were also showing off each in their own way but it was somehow— natural, was it? Everybody was laughing, exchanging jokes, talking vividly. Someone used not his tableware but spikes that grew from their hands. Someone made their tea and oatmeal warm with their red-hot fingers. Someone launched multicolored lights, and they were flying over the tables. And the presence of Professor X was soaring above all this and shielding everyone with the cozy warmth of home.       Sometimes, glances were cast upon Rica, but not askew ones and no one came up and harassed her: they gave her time to get used to the new environment. Her demanding stomach drew attention to itself again, and the girl focused on the food on her plates. While she was eating, the noise in the dining room was becoming louder and louder: more and more school inhabitants were coming for breakfast. They were discussing homework, sports events, TV shows, and videos from YouTube like normal children. Nobody plumed themselves on their difference or puffed out their mutation. But nobody also silenced it in fear, not any one of them: strong ones, fast ones, half-beasts, elementalists, telekinetic ones, invisible ones…       Rica decided for herself that she definitely liked it here.       For a moment, the girl raised her head and saw that not only she was keeping to herself. Almost across from her, at another table, three teenagers were sitting, a bit older than her, a couple of years older. There was a serious light-haired girl, a tan-skinned guy in a jumpsuit out of strange glistening cloth (this jumpsuit was top-off, and he was wearing gloves even during his meal), and the third one… If not for his Adam’s apple and the voice that was obviously male, Rica would find it difficult to define the sexual identity of this creature. It was a real androgyne: refined features (almost bird-like), large eyes with thick eyelashes, a shock of dark curly hair, and long hands with graceful thin fingers.       They were talking with each other rather vividly. It was not likely that these three were outsiders for the others. The very word outsider seemed to be out of the vocabulary of those children and teenagers that gathered here. The trio was respected, they received the same amount of communication and jokes as everybody else, just— They were just hanging out separately. Why? Rica didn’t know yet but she felt that she’d find out everything soon.       As if she felt her gaze, the fair-haired girl raised her eyes, looked straight at Rica, and grinned shortly. Then, she resumed her conversation with her friends as if nothing happened. But Rica had a feeling (that came out of nowhere) that she was just X-rayed for a few seconds, from top to bottom and to the very gut. She was read, sensed, and found… fit?       Maybe. I will find out later. There is no hurry…        

***

      At first, Rica was asked to write some tests to define her level of knowledge, and then she was offered to choose a specialization of her wish — science or sports. The scientific specification also had a choice to offer because the courses were divided into science and liberal arts. But, after tormenting tests and a lot of sweat, Rica strongly voted for physical education. Ororo, who was administering this improvised pseudo-exam, confirmed that the zoologist profession wouldn’t go anywhere, and the general knowledge given here would be enough to pull up her grades. But special courses promised such pressure that shouldn’t be put on the shoulders of a new girl who barely acclimatized herself after the wild savannah. All the more so since Rica had always been a fast runner, a dexterous climber, and a good jumper. And come to think of it…       Since this morning, her muscles had been filled with a strange feeling: as if some tickling bubbles were running along them, like in sparkling water; as if she wanted to stretch herself properly but she couldn’t do it because it was never enough. That’s why the offer to check her physical parameters was met by Rica with such excitement and enthusiasm that she surprised herself.       But first, they took her to the medical room/lab and gave her a unitard. Some young man with nice looks and a distinctive Italian accent (he said his name was Alexander) measured Rica’s growth, weight, temperature, and other things that were necessary for her medical record. He took her blood sample, wrote down her initial regeneration parameters, and promised that Rica would meet him again. But only when she got here so comfortable that she could agree to explore her mutation.       The physique of the new student was checked by Hank. There was running in place and for the distance, broad and high jumps, weight benches, the rope, and other gymnastic apparatus, a small obstacle course… Rica was surprised to understand that she would have broken after half of these tests just a week ago. If not at the third. But now, she barely managed to lose her breath from such loads that could make her lie flat on her back earlier.       And then she was driven further.       The Beast was obviously pleased. He was drawing check after check in his journal and murmuring something about increased characteristics and that now they were so-so yet, but the potential—       What potential? Rica shivered as she took her breath. What could be more?       After such tests, she thought of the hot shower as the greatest invention of humanity.       And then Xavier knocked at her mind — and it already was an almost familiar feeling — and invited her to his office for the matter of her settling.        “You have two options, you see,” he explained while moving plans of the school grounds up to her. “You could choose yourself a room or one of the cabins closer to the park. The rooms are usually occupied by twos, and the cabins by fours.”       After pondering a little, Rica chose the second option. The more fresh air was the better and always preferable. And the environment promised to be more familiar, just like at home.       “Then the twelfth one it is,” Xavier nodded as he was smiling at some of his thoughts. “I think you’d like it. You will have… some interesting neighbors. I asked Jean to give you a tour. Today, you may still rest and get accustomed, but tomorrow — be so kind and begin your studies. Many interesting acquaintances are waiting for you, Rica Clayton.”       This is the matter I don’t doubt a bit, Rica thought as she was getting up to meet Jean that just entered the room, but she knew he could hear her. Or even so: this is the matter that I’m absolutely sure of.