Warning Disclaimer: This is the very first story I ever wrote and it was written about 5 years ago and completely reworked three times. The last version is to make this story naturally flow from the first book. I tried to be accurate in the WU but I've learned at lot about Whateley since then but as I was focused on telling the story it never entered my mind to review Whateley physics/facts and my editors weren't familiar with it either . Until it was brought to my attention. As such there maybe errors but I've worried this story to death as it is and I hope it is not too much of a distraction.

Mrs. Carson and Atalanta reach an understanding and Atalanta is taken on a condensed tour of the school.

Chapter 14

I reclaimed my seat amidst the silence that had settled on the room and waited. After it became apparent that I wasn’t going to protest Mrs. Carson cleared her throat, “We have an improvised schedule ready that should get your powers testing out of the way as we really need to get your permanent ID card in the system.”

I was curious at what they’d find, and I wanted the ID for travel, though it chaffed at me, “Good,” I declared.

“Whateley is used to dealing with all types of students, with all kinds of problems and accommodations. We pride ourselves on a program to adapt to any needs while maintaining a core curriculum. That is what this intake interview will accomplish; fill in any areas your application may have overlooked, or changes since.”

“Most of our students here are unusual in one way or another,” Mrs. Carson continued, “But you are unusual in several ways. First we don’t believe that technically you have the mutant meta-gene complex; and thus are not a classic mutant. But you have changed sexes, plus hair and eye colors, and these are genetic markers for mutants. The changes are consistent with an internal bit map and conform to known exemplar behavior.”

Mrs. Carson paused to sip the water beside her elbow and ask, “You follow me so far?”

I nodded; this was what Mom and I had learned from our research. “How can I be a non-mutant but display mutant traits?”

“I didn’t say you weren’t a mutant; just that you don’t have the gene complex.”

“So there are other ways to become a mutant?”

Mrs. Carson frowned.

”Your mother masked your change by declaring that you were intersex, and indeed you may have been, but after almost two years that is impossible to know now. That also hinders us locating and identifying the mutant gene now. Because, this year, over a year plus after your initial change, you are shot and apparently go through another change. Any anomalies we find in your DNA will be hard to trace to either change. Additionally you have no powers testing done nor have you not attended public schools in over two years except a short stint this fall. Is that about it?”

“It is a little more complicated than that,” I admitted.

“Please continue.”

“No offense but is it necessary for them to be here,” I indicated the men. I thought she was going to refuse but after giving each of us long looks she complied.
“Chief, Gunny, I’ll call you later. Chief meanwhile see if you can reach Ayla to give Miss Reid the 10 cent tour.”

“Thank you Mrs. Carson,” I began after were alone, “I don’t how much detail we’ll go into but some of it is intimate details that I’d rather not discuss in mixed company.”

“I understand, please continue.”

“The biggest adjustment I had; was learning to be a girl and all the things that go with that. Mom thought I needed to immerse myself in it, a boot camp for girlhood to bring me up to date with other girls my age. Since Mom is a doctor nothing was off limits, and I mean nothing.”

“So you got the mother/daughter talk.”

“I did. Mom got it in her head that as a girl I might view boys as competitors and not as potential suitors, so she set me up with a date, supervised of course. But as a precursor the Spa held a cookout and dance on Saturday nights that was an unofficial date with this boy,” I felt color rising in my cheeks at the memory.

“Ah I think I see. Your mother kept you too busy to think.”

“Yes and it kept Mom from thinking too. It was several months before I stopped to wonder the why or the how.”

“I thought,” Mrs. Carson interjected, “that your mother decided you were intersex.”

“I think Mom and I both wanted to have a logical answer because people don’t just spontaneously change their sex. At least, not in our world it didn’t happen. Mutants were the last thing in our minds, and didn’t even come up on our radar as a possibility until this past summer. We were researching that likelihood when Mom was kidnapped.”

“From my perspective as the Headmistress at Whateley it is hard to conceive of anyone that doesn’t know about mutants.”

“I feel the government and the media does a good job of selling other options. But back to the reason why I blended in so well, and why mutant was the last thought as the reason I changed. The change started our first day there and only Judy, the owner and a friend of Mom’s, Lindsey, and her mother who worked for Judy, had met me as Alan and knew the truth. My hair color was easily explained away as girls do change their hair color and any differences in height could also be explained with different shoes.”

“So you had just moved out there and nobody there knew you well enough to notice the change.”

“That and Mom and Judy let it be known that I had got sick and I was recuperating, receiving limited exposure for a couple of weeks. By then everyone accepted that Mom had a daughter.”

“Like a perfect storm,” Mrs. Carson mused adding, “and you didn’t have any special powers?”

“The first two months were spent with Mom and Judy tutoring me and me physically recovering. Later at that cookout though, when a creep tried to grope me, I surprised myself when I whipped him. I believe my BIT map is that of Atalanta, her archetype, and if you remember her from mythology she was an equal to any man, and she loved running. At this same time I began to dream of running as a Native American girl, and I began self-defense training with the foreman of the construction crew who also happened to be a former Seal.”

“So you felt any increase in skills came from your training?”

“Yes the running woman from my dreams turned out to be Changing Woman from Navaho lore; she signaled the change from maiden to woman. And 28 days later I had my first period.”

“Is that when the owl appeared …in your dreams?”

“No he appeared the night I went looking for my Mom, and later when I was shot he protected me.”

“Was there anything else that happened that might have revealed a power set?”

“In hindsight there were hints.”

“Hints?” she queried.

“You’d have to know what I was like as Alan to really see the difference. I guess you could say I was a sissy as a boy. As a girl though I love rough and tumble play. And I’m good at it. Manny said I was a natural.”

“It says here you have a tattoo of the owl. How did that happen?”

“It’s not a tattoo, a friend said it is more like a birthmark,” and I told her of the image appearing after the owl covering me vanished.

“No, that’s definitely not a tattoo,” Mrs. Carson stated after examining the image on my shoulder. “You do know the legends and myths about owls?”

“I know most of them,” I replied, “a messenger of wisdom, death, that sort of stuff. I also know its Athena’s sign and I think it could be her seal on me. Or it may not. The Native Americans have owl traditions too.”

“Seal,” Mrs. Carson quizzed lifting an eyebrow, “please explain?”

I shrugged, “after I was shot I had this vision of being in a cavern with a huge owl which transformed into a woman and she said something like, ‘I didn’t think they would try to get to me through you, and I won’t allow that to happen,’ or something to that effect.”

“That makes sense I suppose,” She mused, “have you noticed anything odd or unusual about the image?”

“It seems to respond to threats or perceived threats.”

“Respond in what way?”

“It tingles and I feel an influx of power or energy, and knowledge.”

Mrs. Carson sat back and spun in her chair to face the far wall lost in thought.

“You'll be in Poe, with the other transgendered, changelings, and alternative lifestyles students. Even in today’s enlightened society we still have prejudices and bullies; so the Poe residents are placed together. The other students are led to think Poe residents are just eccentric. We have a lot of powerful mutants on campus and we want all students to stay safe here, so the secrets at Poe are known only to the ones at Poe and certain administrators. Any questions so far?”

“So you are telling me that as a misfit you’re putting me in with other misfits,” I asked grinning crookedly.

Ignoring my quip she informed me that Ayla from Poe was waiting to show me the cottage, the cafeteria, and the special exhibit that all students were required to view. Afterwards, I needed to check in with her to receive my schedule for the week.

“Any questions?” Mrs. Carson asked as she walked me to the door.

“Just one, what are you going to try and schedule for today?”

“I’m going to try to reserve a lab for your power testing if you get back here on time and …” placing her arm on mine, “a word to the wise. We have a group here, the New Olympians, who think they are reincarnations of the original Olympians. Just try and give them a wide berth for a while.”

“Thanks for the heads up,” I replied, smiling, remembering to look them up later. Not for a confrontation, but getting to know a potential enemy was always a good idea.

Chapter 15

Outside the office door, a 5 foot tall slender person with spiked black hair, dressed in an androgynous fashion waited, “Hi I’m Ayla Goodkind. You are Atalanta Reid?”

“That’s me,” I admitted smiling at Ayla whose head just barely came past my shoulder. My first impression of Ayla was that she was a tomboy, although being a resident of Poe cottage nothing was certain. The name Ayla suggested a girl, so for the time being that was how I would think of her.

“Come on,” she called over her shoulder leading the way deeper into the building, “we don’t have a lot of time, so you get the short version of the tour.” I followed her as she opened a door that lead into a great room with cloth sofas, chairs, and tables placed around a gigantic fireplace.

“Some students use this as a lounge especially in the winter months when it is so cold outside. It’s a good meeting place to study, or to curl up with a good book, or just to cuddle.” Her words were clipped and staccato, as were her steps.

She led me to a small hallway where a bust of Homer sat in a niche before a set of double doors. Grasping his dome head and pushing back, it swung away to reveal a keyed lock. Ayla produced a key and placing it in the lock, turned it, revealing a keypad which Ayla punched in some numbers and then immediately swiped a card. The metallic echo of bolts being withdrawn followed and Ayla pulled open one of the doors.

“This is the Homer Gallery and each new student is required to be given a tour of its contents within their first 24 hours on campus.”

The gallery was a long room filled with antique looking items, some displayed in individual glass cases, some in rows behind glass. Several individual portrait paintings hung from the wall.

“What you see in here are items donated by prominent Whateley alumni; not necessarily famous, but a who’s who of mutants.”

She continued to talk as I idly noticed artifacts displayed in some of the cases that reminded me of futuristic ray guns.
Ayla stopped her spiel as she noticed my interest, “What powers do you have; I’m a density warper.”

I really hadn’t given that much thought. Exactly what was my forte? The truth was I didn’t know.
Shrugging my shoulders, “I don’t know exactly: Mayhem maybe,” I replied softly.

“Mayhem,” Ayla grinned, “you’ll fit right in at Poe then.”

Ahead I saw a familiar costume draped over an armless and legless frame with its trademark coloring, “I thought he was a comic book hero.”

“Who, Champion?” she looked at me like I had grown another head.

“I guess I’ve lived a sheltered life growing up but he’s been around so long I figured he was just a movie hero.”

“He’s real enough but like you say he has been around since the 30’s and World War Two. Champion is actually several Avatar spirits. The present Champion identifies traits in a person to pass it on to a future Champion. That person is always a Whateley graduate.”

Ayla led me to a large oil portrait of a fit and trim man dressed in officers clothing from the 1800’s with high collar, cloak, and tails. He looked eerily familiar, “Dracula,” I queried.

“Lord Paramount,” she replied, “although his ancestor was Vlad, history has recorded him as brutal, and where the terms Dracula and bloodthirsty originated.”

Ayla next led me over to a display surrounded only by velvet ropes, “Is that …?”

“Yes, that is one metric ton of 16-karat gold bars donated by Gabriella Guzman.”

“Who,” I asked puzzled by the name.

“Gabriella Guzman, the Mexican tycoon. She attended Whateley in the 80’s on a scholarship, and her talent is some sort of Esper ability to predict the stock market. Anyway, she’s made millions and donates a lot back to the school.”

“Cool,” I replied noncommittal.

Ayla looked at me oddly, “That’s the tour,” she stated lamely as we turned and retraced our steps to the double doors where she locked the exhibits up.

“I need to return these keys. If you’ll wait here I’ll be right back and I’ll show you where you’ll be living for the next few months.”

Inside the entrance to Poe, on a pedestal, sat a bust of the legendary author, the cottage’s namesake. I stopped for a moment to study the image. His carefully manicured moustache contrasted sharply with his wildly untamed hair, but it was his deep-set expressive eyes that held my attention.

“Atalanta, meet our housemother, Mrs. Bella Horton, her word is law here.”

Mrs. Horton had a presence about her from years of having seen just about everything and every trick under the sun.
“I’m pleased to meet you Mrs. Horton,” I greeted her.

“That remains to be seen,” she shot back a rueful smile playing across her face, “it depends if you can keep your nose clean.”

“Ayla you better get to your next class, I’ll show Atalanta to her room.”

“Thanks Mrs. Horton. I guess I’d better. Atalanta I’ll see you later.”

“Later,” I agreed, “and I’m sorry I made you late for class.” Ayla waved off my apology as she left for class.

Mrs. Horton explained that the first floor was the lounge, and because of the nature of Poe’s secret, was as far students and faculty not of Poe were allowed. Thus the tales of Poe grew embellished with rumors and innuendo, but nowhere touching close to its mundane secret.

Once we were on the second level, as she was leading me towards my room, Mrs. Horton continued with reciting the house rules, “This level is for incoming freshman and some sophomores that haven’t mastered their power level yet, so furnishings and accommodations are rather plain.”

“Is that because they often get destroyed?”

“Atalanta you catch on quick,” and anticipating my next question added, “we didn’t know what powers you have or any new powers you might have gained in the last couple of months. To be on the safe side we placed you on the freshman level.”

“That seems reasonable,” I agreed as we walked to the end of the hall where my room was located and the farthest distance to the communal shower. Removing a lanyard from around her neck she used the key fastened to it to unlock and open the door.

It was shoehorned into the floor’s design carved from leftover space with just enough room for a single occupant. Actually it was probably the janitor’s closet at one time. Long and narrow the room had a bed along one wall, and at its foot, an apartment sized refrigerator, desk and a desk light. A chest, dresser, and wardrobe occupied the left wall. A door at the far end of the room opened in to a small bathroom and the room’s only window. Two hard backed chairs, one at the dresser and the other in front of the desk, near the foot of the bed, completed the furnishings. My luggage and duffel bag were on the bed. Jeeves had placed a case of the Goddess Nectar beside it.

Reaching into her pocket Mrs. Horton handed me a key to the room, “I have a master key to all the rooms here, but each room has it’s own lock. We don’t have any thieves here but if you value privacy you might want to keep it locked.”

“Thanks,” I replied taking the key and walking farther into the room, “I won’t have to worry about getting lost in here, will I?”

“No dear you won’t. I’ll leave you here but you’ll need to hurry to get anything done today.”

I nodded walking into the tiny bathroom and inspected the window and its view I returned to the room and left locking the door behind me to find Mrs. Carson.