The galley, Alice learned, was a sort of cafeteria, though perhaps the word cafeteria did the place an injustice. It more closely resembled a banquet hall, with tables of many shapes and sizes covered in white tablecloths and servers in white shirts. It didn't smell like any cafeteria Alice had been in either. Absent were the smells of fry oil and processed meat she knew from her high school. Instead, she could smell spices and fresh bread and a myriad other aromas that suddenly filled her mouth with so much drool she had to swallow.

  Clawson had successfully convinced Maryanne to allow her daughter time alone with the other metahuman, and so he'd led her away to have lunch elsewhere. One of the waitresses, a cheerful young woman perhaps a little older than Alice, ushered her and Ethan to a curtained-off corner of the room with a single round table and a buffet table covered in serving trays. Alice eyed the trays with a little more desperate hunger and a little less dignity than she meant to. She was famished. It seemed that ever since she'd taken up flying, her body just couldn't seem to get enough food. She wondered at that. Did flying require energy from her? Energy that could be supplied in food? It might explain things if it did. Thankfully, her friendship with Christine and her employment at Morena Rose kept her well-fed. But this place? By the smells and the look of the food here, she thought this place might be designed especially for people who needed more food than normal, and quality food at that.

  Ethan pulled out a chair for her in a gesture that suddenly made the whole awkward situation seem suspiciously like a first date. He'd traded his sweat-soaked exercise shorts for a pressed, tailored white shirt and dark slacks. If her mind had been on something other than her pressing need for answers and her almost more pressing need for food, she might have found his appearance pleasantly distracting. She was not too hungry, however, to be reminded of just how casually she was dressed compared to nearly everyone around her. She'd passed dozens of people in the dining area on her way to this table, and none of them were in jeans.

  As soon as Alice was seated, the young woman who'd showed them to their seats left, closing a curtain behind her so that Ethan and Alice were alone together in a dining room of their own. It suddenly dawned on her where she was, and more importantly, who she was alone with. A metahuman. Like her, someone born with extraordinary abilities, with physical limitations beyond those of mortal men and women. And yet, they were so normal. They were both awkward here, alone together. They were sitting down to a meal, just like normal people would. And she was suddenly realizing that she had no idea where to begin. In all the excitement of that morning, of the discovery that she truly wasn't alone in all of humanity, she'd never actually thought of what to say to him.

  The boy, however, seemed willing to take a stab at conversation.

  "Clawson's idea of privacy," Ethan gestured to something behind Alice as he spoke.

  Alice followed his gaze. Sure enough, in the corner of the ceiling was a black, reflective dome about the size of a baseball. A security camera. It made sense to Alice that she was being watched, but it made it no less unnerving to see the camera. Since the day before when she'd first activated the holographic device in her apartment, she'd become familiar with the feeling of being watched.

  "Don't take it personally," Ethan grinned nonchalantly. "He watches everyone. I just think it's funny that he considers this 'privacy'."

  Ethan then looked at the camera dome and gave it a not-too-subtle wink.

  Alice managed a tight smile through her nerves. She tried to remind herself that she'd come to this place for a purpose. She tried again to think of the questions that had driven her to come here in the first place. She tried smiling, hoping it would give her courage, and opened her mouth, hoping the words would somehow magically fill it on their own.

  "Before we eat," Ethan interrupted, taking a seat opposite her and resting his elbows on the table, "I have to ask you some questions."

  Alice stared at him, and then she closed her mouth. A thought was dawning on her, an epiphany that landed on her like a falling star. It hadn't even occurred to her what it would mean for him to be meeting another metahuman.

  I'm just as strange to him as he is to me.

  "I'm sorry," he said with his hands up in a sign of apology, "I've just been waiting for this conversation to happen ever since I first saw you, and I didn't know how to begin. It's just...I've never met anyone like you before. How did you, you know, become special?"

  Alice felt anxiety welling up in her throat. Will he be disappointed that I don't know? She stared at Ethan in dumb silence. It struck her that they were like two people from opposite sides of the rainbow looking for the pot of gold at the other end.

  "I don't know," she answered slowly, swallowing the lump in her throat. "I just am. I've always been this way, I think."

  What had she expected? Why did she think he would magically be the one with all the answers? How had she allowed herself to believe she was the only one with those questions? Was it because he was a hero? Because had a mask and a uniform and scores of people he'd rescued? Was it all smoke and mirrors after all? An illusion? Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain.

  "Do you know how you became the way you are?" Alice finally responded, wringing her napkin in her lap under the table.

  When he'd first spoken, he'd sounded charming and full of fun, but that had evaporated. He looked lost and not just a little disappointed, now.

  "I was...born this way. I grew up like this."

  Alice nodded dumbly, defeated.

  "What about when you look at me," Alice tried. "When you see me, do you see...?" Alice fumbled for words to describe it.

  "Light?" finished Ethan. "Only, maybe not really light? Coming from you, from around you?"

  Alice nodded, feeling like they might finally be getting somewhere.

  "What is it?"

  Ethan shrugged. "I don't know. I only see it around you. And you see it?"

  "Around you, yeah," she answered. "I think I feel it, too. But I don't know what it is, either." He stared back at her mutely.

  "Do you ever wonder 'why' or 'now what?' Like, what is the purpose of everything we are? What are we for?" she stumbled on. She realized she was desperate for an answer now. She hated to feel this vulnerable, this needy, but this was it, her one and only chance to find out what it all was for. For her powers, for her father's death.

  His face had darkened. He shrugged his big shoulders. "I just do what they tell me to," he finally replied. "I don't know if it's the meaning to my life or anything. It's just how things worked out."

  No answers. Just more questions. She'd done the impossible. She'd searched the world for another person like her, and once she'd found him, he had no answers for her at all. Not about her origin, not about her purpose. She might have found another metahuman, but she felt just as alone, just as directionless, and just as disappointed in herself as ever.

  Alice buried her face in her hands, unable to hold back a soundless gasp. It was as if all the air had been sucked from the room.

  Everything it took to find him. To meet him. Wasted hope.

  After a few deep breaths to regain her composure, Alice dabbed her eyes with her napkin and stood from the table.

  "I'm sorry you had to see that. This wasn't what I'd expected. I should go."

  "Wait," he said, standing from his chair. "Listen, I'm normally really busy around here. I don't get to meet a whole lot of new people. Please stay for a little while. Have lunch with me. We can talk about something else if you want. Or not talk at all. Whatever. But if you go, they'll stick me back on the Megaton, and I would rather put that off a little longer. I even showered."

  His eyes were bright again. His smile was reassuring. Alice felt herself soften, and she returned his smile. She didn't want to be responsible for him going back to his back-breaking punishment sooner than was necessary. Besides, the food smelled amazing.

  Alice shook her head, suddenly realized she'd never actually introduced herself to him.

  "I'm sorry things got so serious so fast," she said, wiping one last streak of wet from her eyes and reaching out a hand to him. "I'm Alice. I'm glad I met you. Even if this didn't turn out the way I wanted to originally, this is nice."

  He smiled back at her and took her hand in his. His grip was firm, dry, and warm. A small, almost imperceptible tingle danced up her arm when they touched.

  "I'm Ethan," he returned. "Thanks for staying. I can't remember the last time I made a new friend."

  As it turned out, there was plenty to talk about while they ate. Ethan described his unusual life in hilarious detail, like his training, his missions, and his awkwardly uneventful down time. He was funny and engaging, as well as an easy conversationalist.

  The food was, if not better than the company, a very close second. It was a sort of pulled chicken seasoned with exotic spices on warm flat bread with a pickle and creamy garlic sauce. Alice looked down to see that she'd dripped a bunch of the sauce on her tee shirt. She hastily dabbed at it with her napkin, hoping that Ethan hadn't noticed, and then realized, she was too hungry to care. She took another warm, savory bite.

  "So, they never let you out of here? Like, ever?" Alice asked with a mouth half full of food.

  "Well, they used to let me out once in a while, like, every couple of months to watch a movie or whatever. But since my face first made the news, I've been down here. They only let me out to go on missions. Now I just sit in my room praying for disasters."

  Alice's face hurt from smiling, and she realized she had been smiling a lot. She found herself relaxing despite her earlier disappointment. Ethan was so genuine that Alice felt completely at ease with him, which was unusual for her to feel around other young men. Usually, they made her feel too tall, too physical. Being with most boys was a constant battle between wanting to be herself and wanting to hide her uniqueness. But not with Ethan.

  The dessert was a sort of pie with a cream cheese filling topped with chocolate and strawberries. Alice had water, and Ethan had boxed chocolate milk with a straw, a treat, he said, they only let him have occasionally. At first Alice thought he was joking, but by the time he'd downed his 9th box, she could understand why they felt the need to ration it.

  In some ways, he's still just a little kid.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  "Listen," he said, wiping the last crumbs of dessert off her plate with his finger, "you being here is a big deal for these people. Especially for Clawson. You are the only other known metahuman in the world besides myself. And they wouldn't have asked you to come here without a reason."

  Alice knew that he was probably right. Clawson must have already known she wouldn't get many answers out of Ethan. Not the ones she wanted, anyway. Alice was about to ask Ethan why Clawson had gone to the trouble of bringing them together when Ethan cut into her thoughts.

  "I think he wants to offer you a place here," he looked up hopefully. "Maybe a permanent one. I don't know. But I think you should take him up on it." The words spilled out quickly and it took Alice a moment to process them.

  The idea of it was both thrilling and terrifying. Was she even capable of that level of physicality? Of jumping headfirst into disasters, into battles? Could she reach into burning buildings and pull helpless people out of them, unscathed? If she did, if she could save enough lives, could she find that purpose she was looking for, a reason for being the way she was?

  Ethan's eyes locked onto hers, pulling her from her thoughts.

  "I just think..." he tried. He smiled. It was a wonderful smile, wide and bright, and it filled her with warmth to the tips of her toes. He started again. "I think we should stick together. You know, since we're so alike and all. You never know. We might figure some things out."

  Alice had never felt so strongly persuaded of anything.

  That was when Clawson appeared, just as they were wiping up the last crumbs of desert from their plates.

  Ethan, with one last look at Alice and the sigh of one with a long, difficult day ahead of him, left place at the table and disappeared through the curtain that had separated the two of them from the rest of the galley.

  I'd like to see him again, Alice realized, but not for the same reasons as before. She smiled to herself.

  Clawson didn't take Ethan's place at the table. Instead, he started clearing the dishes, stacking the plates and gathering the silverware in a small, plastic bin from under the covered buffet table.

  "Did you learn anything from Ethan?" he asked as he carefully placed her water glass in the bin.

  That question grated on Alice's nerves like a nail file on a violin string. The annoyance she felt was as sudden and difficult to suppress.

  "You know I didn't," she managed with more razor in her voice than she would have liked. "Where's my mom?" she finally finished.

  It had just occurred to her that she was alone with Clawson, truly alone, for the first time. She wasn't sure if she should trust him, or if she ever really could.

  "Your mother has agreed to let me have a minute or two alone with you, to talk to you. I tell you, that woman is a tough negotiator. I bet she's a good mom."

  Alice avoided eye contact and focused on the floor. She thought he must be teasing her, but there wasn't any cruelty or humor in his voice, as she thought there would be. Only a kind of longing. Before that moment, Alice had only seen him smile like a man who carefully measures every word and keeps his eyes on his prizes, but at the moment, she thought his expression looked quite tender and very real. She watched as he took one of the napkins and gently folded it into a neat little square.

  "I'm sorry you were so disappointed with your conversation with Ethan. And yes, I knew you would be. I've known Ethan Beakerman all his life. I could have told you anything about him."

  "If you knew what I wanted to know, and you knew what this would be like for me, why didn't you warn me?"

  "Would you have wanted to hear it from me? Or would you still have wanted to hear it from him?"

  She stared at him, thinking perhaps he might be right. She shrugged.

  He nodded. "I didn't want to bring you here to crush your spirits. Even though I knew you wouldn't find everything you were looking for, I thought it might be important to you to meet someone as special as you. I understand you're looking for your place in the universe. Your purpose. Though I can't speak for the universe, maybe I can offer you a purpose here. We do important work here, Alice, and I'd like for you to be a part of it."

  Alice leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. She supposed he was right about her. But Clawson was offering her a purpose, something to do with all her strength.

  Dad, is this why I'm here? Is this what I'm supposed to do?

  "What is this place?" she asked, relaxing a little and waving her arms around to indicate the whole building and the people in it. "I mean, I know you save people and stuff, but is that what all this is for? The Department of Emergency Resource Management?"

  "Oh," chuckled Clawson, "you remember the sign out front. No, that's not who we are. Not really. That department only exists as a shell, a sort of disguise so the government can continue to funnel money into our agency without looking directly involved."

  He pulled a black portfolio from his coat. Alice caught just a brief glimpse of a symbol embossed on the cover, the golden crown with seven rays. Clawson laid the open portfolio on the table and slid it to her.

  "Since this is the part where I invite you to join us, it might help if I told you who we are and what we do."

  In the portfolio, Alice could see an old print of an illustration from a newspaper. Judging by the quality of the print, she might have guessed the newspaper dated back to the eighteen hundreds. The illustration was of a man with a handlebar mustache in a shirt and suspenders. He was lifting a broken horse-drawn cart off the cringing form of a child.

  "Miracle Man Saves Child!" read the headline.

  "That's Giles Danville," said Clawson. "He saved nearly everyone from the Princess Alice when it sank in 1878."

  Alice found another picture under that one. It was an ancient photograph taken of an East Indian woman holding a fishing net that seemed to disappear into the odd ground on which she stood. Something about the glassy, reflective surface of the ground bothered Alice until she realized that the woman wasn't standing on ground at all, but what appeared to be the surface of a lake or bay.

  "We don't actually know her name. Countless reports from fishermen tell stories of her saving people at sea. After this picture was taken, she disappeared."

  Alice turned to another photograph, and then another. She became aware that her heart was hammering in her chest. There was something about these people, something thrilling and familiar. Were these people her own kind? Relations of a sort? But they came in seemingly every nationality and skin shade she could imagine. Neither did they all seem to have the same abilities. Several seemed to have superhuman strength, but others were stranger still. The young woman who walked on water. Another surrounded by objects held in the air by some invisible force. Each one was more different from her than any person could possibly be.

  "You're looking at the illustrated history of metahumans," said Clawson. "Some we know a great deal about. Some are little more than rumors."

  Alice turned to the last photo, one far more modern than any picture she'd seen thus far. A man in white floated, arms outstretched, in midair in front of the sun. His features were cast in shadow, and his cape billowed behind him like wings. Alice recognized an ornamentation of sorts that rose from the man's shoulders and arched over his head. It was nearly a circle, and golden rays pointed out from it in seven directions. It was, Alice knew, the same shape she'd seen on the table and the portfolio.

  "I've seen him before," Alice said, recognizing the build and the peculiar white costume. "That's Divinity, isn't it?"

  Clawson nodded. "The last great metahuman. He wasn't just a good citizen doing his part. He was a symbol to all people and an international force for good. The world enjoyed an unprecedented time of peace and stability while he was alive. The world hasn't had peace since."

  Clawson closed the portfolio and stared intently into Alice's eyes.

  "It's our mission to find metahumans and to continue the work Divinity started, to use the abilities of remarkable people like you to protect and inspire all people, here in our country and abroad. We also research metahumans to discover the nature of their powers. I may not be able to tell you why you of all people were born with these gifts, but given time, we may be able to tell you what you are."

  Alice leaned back into her chair and sighed. In her wildest imaginings of what she'd do with her life, she never imagined being called to this. She was no hero, she knew. She was nothing like Divinity. But, she thought of the old photo of the woman walking on water, the nameless savior of those lost at sea. A helping hand. Alice could see herself as that, and there was something about it that felt right.

  "Okay," she flushed, a smile dawning on her face. "I'll try it. But you guys will have to teach me. I've never done anything like all this before." Then she thought back to her experience in South Carolina two days previous. "Well, almost never. I just never imagined myself doing anything like this. Like, you know, a superhero."

  She realized she had a grin on her face as she looked down at the photograph of Divinity. She couldn't help it. The thought of doing things like he did, of having something good she could pour all of her power and all of her abilities into, it made her feel like something had been turned on inside her, like she was suddenly filled with so much light it might start shining out of her fingertips.

  But her smile faded as she looked up into Clawson's face again. He suddenly wore a frown, his brow creased as though he'd been surprised by an unexpected setback.

  "I'm sorry, Miss Fillmore," he apologized, leaning forward. "I think we must have had some misunderstanding."

  It was Alice's turn to frown. "What do you mean?"

  Clawson had that face again. The face of a man who measured everything he said, who picked every word with the care of a surgeon choosing his instruments.

  "The work we do here is...demanding. It's unpredictable and often very, very dangerous. For that, we have teams of highly trained men and women who specialize in everything from rescue, emergency medicine, and firefighting to engineering, espionage, and combat. Ethan is one such individual. He's the one we've chosen and trained for many years to handle this kind of work." Clawson touched a finger to the picture of Divinity.

  Alice said nothing. She was beginning to have a sinking feeling in her gut. Where just moments ago she'd been filled with hope and light, there was now building a swirling, sickening disappointment.

  "The contribution you would be making," Clawson continued, a soft, careful smile on his face, "would be no less important. For our work to continue, we need to study as much as we can about metahumans. Our science and medical team..."

  Alice didn't want to let him finish. She didn't think she could stomach listening to him say something so obvious in as polite a way as possible. She pushed her seat away from the table.

  "You want to study me," she said, shaking her head and standing to her feet. "I should have known. I think I did know. I just...I thought..." but to finish was too painful. She turned to go. She could find her own way out of this place, even if she was a dozen floors below ground.

  It was Clawson's turn to stand up. "Please!" He held out a hand pleading her to stop. "You don't understand how important this is! I am offering you the answers you're looking for, and much besides. You want to know what you are and why you're special? No one knows more about metahumans than we do! You want to make it worth your while? We pay you handsomely and give you much more besides! Opportunities! Privileges! Luxury!"

  He walked around the table until he stood between her and the curtain. He held his hands up in front of him, as though she were a scared horse he was trying to calm. Maybe even as if she were dangerous.

  I suppose I could be, and he knows it.

  "No one here sees you as a science experiment. You are a remarkable individual, rare and inspirational in ways you could never imagine. We would never do anything to harm or disrespect you in any way. Please, allow us to observe you. Let us run some dignified, non-invasive tests. Let us learn from you as much as we can."

  Now I know why you were so keen to see me without my mother present. If he thought she was bad before, she would have his head if she heard this offer. But still...

  "All you have to do," he begged, "is to name your price. Anything you want, just name it, and it's yours."

  She should have said no. She should have left that place with her mom and never looked back. What kind of person would agree to be studied like this? To be examined like an endangered species? Perhaps only the truly desperate. And yet, she was desperate. There was something, she realized, that she wanted more than anything else.

  "Alright," she said, slowly nodding, careful to keep eye contact with Clawson. She wanted him to know just how serious she was. "I know my mom won't agree, but I think I could convince her."

  A look of relief washed over Clawson. It looked genuine. She couldn't explain why, but she felt for a moment that Clawson was being honest with her. Sincere.

  "Excellent," he sighed. "Please, how can we compensate you? If you like, we can call your mother in, maybe get you a lawyer to make sure everything..."

  "What I want," she interrupted, holding up her finger, "is a job here. Not as a specimen. As a...I don't know what you'd call them. What Ethan is."

  Clawson frowned again. "We already talked about that. Ethan has been trained, prepared, for years. Surely, we offer you another position as..."

  She shook her head. "No. I want to be what Ethan is. You trained him. You can train me. I can do it."

  She could see the thoughts turning in his head. He wasn't just hesitating because he didn't know what to say. He was considering her offer. Weighing. Calculating.

  "You don't know what you're asking," he said. Alice was sure this sounded like a warning. "The demands of this work are severe. The physical and mental strain are beyond what you could imagine. You might not be suitable..."

  "Let me prove it," she dared him. Her hands were on her hips now, and a smile was on her face. She couldn't explain why, but she was suddenly and rapidly filling with confidence. "Give me a chance to prove I can do it. Give me the training. Give me a test. And if I pass it, let me do what Ethan does. If I don't pass, well, I'll stay as your guinea pig."

  He stared at her for a long time. Finally, a polite smile broke out on his face. "I can see you are very much like your mother. You drive a hard bargain." He sighed. "I suppose the training and the test will give us valuable data we could use, and if you do prove capable..."

  He looked at her again, and he smiled. So did she.

  "Great!" she exclaimed. "If you promise to give me that chance, then I'm happy to be part of..." She frowned. "What is this place really called?"

  Clawson smiled, throwing his hands up and shaking his head in surrender, like a weak-willed father who'd just given in to the demands of his daughter. He waved an open hand, gesturing, it seemed, to the whole facility and the people in it.

  "Welcome to ORIGIN."