Maryanne stared at the black device pulsing with yellow light on her kitchen table. Alice had seen her mother angry before, but it was rare to see her truly furious. She could see muscles tensing and throbbing beneath the side of her mother's head, veins standing on her clenched hands. She had a look in her eyes that Alice would have been afraid to have pointed in her direction, superhuman powers or no.

  "Where's the button," Maryanne said in a cold, sharp voice.

  Alice was beginning to regret saying anything about the holographic message. She had her doubts of what she should say about it. She had huddled alone in her apartment after Gregory Clawson's face had disappeared, alone with her worries and her fears, and with her desires too. She'd been looking for a way to use her potential, to learn how to use her powers to help people, and here she was being offered a way to help. By the same people behind the heroes she'd seen saving people in a hurricane, no less. It was frightening to have a secretive organization suddenly requesting to see her in person but thrilling too. And she'd not known what to do about it, so she'd just tried carrying on with her day as though nothing unusual had happened.

  "Alice," her mom's voice rumbled again, "press the button."

  After her encounter with the glowing head, Alice had gone to work visibly shaken, and Christine had known immediately that Alice was not feeling right. She'd placed her hand on Alice's forehead, checked the color of her tongue, and even checked Alice's pulse before declaring with absolute certainty that Alice had something called "la gripe" and sent her home to rest, promising to come by soon with her family's best remedies.

  But Alice wasn't happy to be back in her apartment once again alone with the holographic device. It felt a lot like stranger danger. She didn't like the way it slowly flashed its yellow button on top, the button that would summon the man named Clawson again to accept his offer to meet, so she'd covered it with a blanket and did her best to ignore it.

  But that became impossible once her mother had come home from her nursing shift. Overwhelmed by her terrible secret, Alice disclosed everything as soon as Maryanne asked Alice about her day.

  Impatient to wait on her daughter, Maryanne tried pressing the button herself, but nothing happened.

  Clawson did say he wanted to speak to me alone, Alice thought. Maybe the device is designed to only respond to my touch.

  Maryanne seemed to come to the same conclusion after trying again and failing to get more than just the steady pulse of yellow light.

  "Alice, would you be so kind as to press the button for me?" she seethed. When she saw her daughter hesitate to come closer, Maryanne forced a smile onto her face. "Not to worry, my girl. I'm not upset at you. I just want to have a conversation with the man who spoke to you."

  There was something about the way she said the word "conversation" that made Alice think she could have said "knife fight" instead without changing the overall meaning.

  "Sorry," she surrendered, walking towards the device and reaching out an unsteady hand. "I'm sorry," she repeated. Why did she feel the need to keep apologizing? Maybe it was because she felt she'd dragged her mother into all this by allowing herself to be seen in public. Then again, maybe it was because she could feel what was coming for Clawson if he dared to appear.

  Please let this not end badly.

  She pressed the button.

  The device once again sprouted the crab-like stalk-eyes that scanned the room. Did they seem to stop on Maryanne for a moment? Was Clawson on the other end of this, considering whether to appear in the presence of Alice's mother?

  After a pregnant pause, the green-tinted, three-dimensional image of a man's face appeared suspended in a beam of light above the device's holographic lens.

  "Good evening," he said in round, pleasant tones. "You must be Mrs. Fillmore. My name is Gregory Clawson, director of..." but he never got to finish his polite greeting.

  "Who do you think you are!" Maryanne roared at the hologram, jabbing her finger at him as though it were a serrated knife. "You invade our privacy, you approach my teenage daughter without my permission, you put some kind of weird machine in my home! Do you have children Mr. Clawson!?"

  If it were possible to stab someone to death with just a look, Gregory Clawson's body would have no longer been identifiable for lack of a face. Alice felt herself withering from her mom's fury, and it wasn't even directed at her.

  Clawson, who looked before as clipped and precise as a man used to being in charge, was suddenly stumbling over his own words. Alice was able to make out words like "deepest apologies" and "only the best intentions", but most of his sentences failed to complete themselves, being swept away by Maryanne's verbal assault like umbrellas in a hurricane.

  "I don't care if you're government, I don't care if you're the president of the United States! Don't you ever, EVER come into my house without my permission! And don't you EVER talk to my daughter again!"

  Alice could sense the situation was quickly spiraling out of her control. She'd been frightened to be approached by these people so unexpectedly, but she was also afraid of missing out on what Clawson had offered her. Her chance to be a part of something that used her power, her chance to speak to another metahuman, maybe the only other person like her in the entire world, might evaporate if her mother continued to batter him.

  She even was starting to feel sorry for Clawson, whose veneer of calm and control was beginning to slip. Alice was beginning to see glimpses of a man who'd realized he'd been caught doing something very embarrassing and inappropriate. Her mom was currently shouting at him so voraciously that she might leave teeth marks on the hologram.

  "...if I even hear one of those little buzzing things snooping around my apartment again, I swear I will find you, bring it to your home, and shove it up your...!"

  "Mom!" Alice interjected, stepping between her and the hologram and holding up her hands in a gesture of peace. "Mom, let's just calm down, and...I don't know, talk for a minute?"

  When that furious, barbed gaze fell on her, Alice hesitated, "Please? I think we really need to talk about this."

  Maryanne disdainfully tossed the blanket that had covered the device before over it again. The hologram fizzled and disintegrated, and a ghostly glow shone through the fabric.

  Alice pulled her mother into her room and tried explaining herself. Her words tumbled out, almost tripping over themselves in their rush to get out. She explained her desire to find a use for her power. She tried explaining her need for someone to help her, to guide her and teach her how to use them. She apologized a lot. And she mentioned her father.

  Maryanne listened, a fiery volcano slowly cooling as it met with the sea.

  "I just feel like if I don't do something," Alice clarified, as though she were having to untangle the mass of words and emotions that had come spilling out of her, "I think that...that Dad might...that I would be..." but there was nothing for it. There seemed to be no words in the whole world that could possibly express this need she had.

  Maryanne, it seemed, was able to hear what her daughter felt more than what she said. She took her daughter's hands in her own.

  "I think I get it," she said. Her voice was calm, but heat still lingered on her words, like doused iron from a forge still glowing at its center. "Maybe we can work out something with..." she waved a hand vaguely in the direction of the hologram in the other room. "But it's still my job to protect you."

  The two of them returned to the device, and Maryanne snatched the blanket off it. The hologram returned, regenerating like a video of a melting ice sculpture played in reverse. Clawson's face reappeared, saying nothing. His stoic face was that of a man resigned, a convict awaiting a sentence from the judge.

  "Alright, Mr. Clawson," Maryanne conceded. "You want to meet with my daughter in person? Fine. But there will be some conditions."

  **********

  Alice took a deep breath. As the giant green head had promised, a black car was waiting for her on the street just outside her apartment. It was sleek and expensive looking, not unlike the holographic tablet projector she had clutched in her hands.

  These people sure seem to have a thing for shiny black things. Like villains out of a science fiction movie. I wonder if I should be worried.

  As she approached, the driver appeared and opened the door for her. Once closer, she could see his face clearly, a clean-shaven face with dark eyes hidden beneath heavy dark eyebrows. A familiar face. She stared slack-jawed at him as she slowly mentally changed his outfit from a dark suit to the brown deliveryman uniform.

  "You," she declared, trading glances between him and the black projector in her hand, "you were the..."

  "I'm Levi," he finished for her, extending his hand. Alice shook it, noticing that his grip was strong, his hands rough with calluses.

  Not the hands of a chauffeur, she realized, nor even that of a deliveryman.

  "We've seen each other before," he continued, leaning on the open car door. "Even before yesterday. Though, it was only for a moment, and you may not have recognized me. I was wearing a mask at the time."

  Alice thought back to the masked figures she saw at the boardwalk, remembered them rising through the stormy air and disappearing into the bowels of an enormous black aircraft. Was he the one? Was he the metahuman Clawson spoke of?

  This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  "Please," he said, gesturing to the interior of the car. "We are very excited to get started. We have a lot we'd like to show you."

  Alice stared into the interior of the car and hesitated. It was lushly upholstered with rich, creamy leather seats and polished wood accents gleaming in the sunlight. It was so pristine, she wondered if she was clean enough to get in.

  "Alright, then. Let's not waste time out here." Maryanne politely shouldered past her daughter and climbed into the back seat while Levi held the door. "Alice, honey, we should probably get going. I'm sure Mr. Levi doesn't want to attract attention to us out here on the street."

  Alice sighed. This was one of the conditions her mom had set for allowing Alice to meet with him and his agency. Alice was relieved to have her mom with her, to not have to face this alone, but a part of her, perhaps the more rebellious side of her felt a hint of embarrassment at being escorted by her mother, like a girl at her first high school dance. Still, her fear of getting into that car by herself was greater than any embarrassment her mother's protection might cause her.

  "Oh, and know this, Mr. Levi," Maryanne said leaning out of the open door to look the chauffeur in the eye, "I left instructions with several friends and acquaintances of mine. If they do not hear from me, or if we are not returned to our home by six o'clock this evening, they are to contact the authorities and the media and let them know what happened to me and my daughter. Do you understand?"

  Levi gave a bemused smile. "Perfectly, Mrs. Fillmore. Six o'clock. I understand."

  Maryanne shifted her gaze to her daughter and gave her a nod. "Are you ready?"

  Alice nodded and took a step towards the car.

  This is it. It all begins here. The moment I take a seat in that car, nothing will ever be the same.

  "Hi, Friend! Are you feeling better already?"

  Alice turned to see Christine jogging to catch her, a paper bag held in her hand.

  "Hey!" Alice answered in surprise. She looked back at Levi, and then back at her friend. "What are you doing here?"

  "I told you yesterday I would bring you something to help you feel better," she reminded Alice. She reached into the paper bag and drew out something wrapped in yellow paper. The smell of eggs and cheese and chorizo and tortilla hung in the air around them like a warm cloud. "I know you've had my brother's breakfast burritos, but mine are better. I put hash browns in mine. And better spices."

  Alice took the burrito from her, almost dropping the projector already in her hands. Its heat radiated down her hand, and her stomach rumbled. In all the excitement and worry of that morning, Alice hadn't been able to eat. Suddenly, that burrito was beginning to feel as critical to her well-being that morning as her mother's company was in the car.

  "Where are you going?" Christine asked, making another burrito appear from the sack like a rabbit from a magician's hat.

  Alice's attention snapped back from the food in her hand to her friend, and then to the man in the dark suit, and then to the expensive car that stood open for her. Christine seemed nonplussed, more concerned with carefully removing the yellow paper from around her breakfast than the unusual driver and car, but Alice couldn't think of anything to say in answer to her question. Her mind was a blank, her open mouth empty.

  Maryanne leaned out of the car. "We're being taken on a tour of the university," she said quickly, a smile on her face. She shot a look at Alice, a look that seemed to say, "let's get going already."

  "Wow," Christine said, seemingly taking in the car for the first time. "Your grades must be really good, 'cause William & Mary is a really good school. They offering you a scholarship? The must be. My cousin Lorna got one, but not, you know, a full scholarship. She says she's going to be a vet, but that's a lot of school, and I don't think she likes animals that much."

  Alice thanked Christine for the food and made her excuses to leave. Christine nodded and munched contentedly on her burrito, long strands of cheese stretching to her mouth. She waved goodbye as she turned and walked away in the direction of the Morena Rose.

  Alice climbed into the car and slumped into the seat beside her mother with a sigh of relief. She stared down at the burrito in her hand, a talisman that inexplicably filled her with confidence.

  As the driver took his own seat, he turned, a grin still stretching across his face.

  "You two covered for yourselves pretty well," he praised. "Maybe you'll fit in well with us."

  Maryanne said nothing and rolled her eyes.

  As he started the car, Alice asked, "So where are we going?"

  **********

  Alice thought she knew why the man named Clawson would choose the old spy training base as a place to meet. Camp Peary was government, which she already knew, and as they drove through it, she also saw that it was largely empty. They passed an old gatehouse manned by only two guards, though they seemed thoroughly armed. One of them held the leash of a large, black dog. The road leading in soon began to wind through thick woods that occasionally parted enough for Alice to see a few developed neighborhoods of empty houses. That was where all the government employees, the instructors and the spies and the security personnel lived, in those nice, neat, cozy looking colonial homes. She also saw a collection of low, unimposing buildings that she couldn't guess the use of. Whatever purpose the base still served, it appeared to be mostly abandoned, and they passed few other vehicles winding their way down those roads.

  Levi chauffeured them deeper into Camp Peary's wooded interior. Alice looked out the window and saw a beautiful woodland overgrown and embracing the end of summer, green leaves showing only the barest hint of yellow, and here or there she glanced tiny deer. She expected at some point for the view to suddenly reveal a vast, impressive complex. Instead, they pulled into the parking lot of a low, drab building.

  A sign on the lawn in front said, "Department of Emergency Resource Management", and bore a generic seal which Alice immediately forgot. The building itself was a boring mix of shades of brown: brown stone with brown trim around the windows and a brown metal roof. It looked like an oversized DMV, a relic of efficient, practical, government spending.

  Standing in front of it were two men, one of them familiar to her, though she'd only ever seen him in a green-tinted holographic projection, and then only his head.

  There he is, she thought to herself, the man behind the curtain.

  Levi pulled the car directly up to the front of the building so that Gregory Clawson himself could approach and open her door for her. Alice realized she still had the yellow, oily wrapper of the burrito in her hand, and she quickly balled it up and looked for a place to put it. It seemed wrong to put it anywhere inside the pristine, leather interior of that car, so she quickly stuffed it in her own jean pocket and wiped her hand on her leg before climbing out.

  "Miss Fillmore," came the rough, graveled voice of the man she'd only seen as a hologram. "You can't know how excited I am that you could make it. Welcome to Camp Peary, or here we just call it The Farm."

  It didn't look much like a farm to her. Clawson, on the other hand, looked just as Alice thought he might. He was a man of average height but with a broad build. The lines of his face looked deeper in person. He wore a dark suit with a tie, and a long coat that swayed gently in the breeze. His shoes were immaculately clean and polished to black mirrors. His hand reached out to her, and she took it. He gently squeezed it and took it with both hands. His dark eyes looked into hers, and a sincere smile spread across his face.

  "And you must be Mrs. Fillmore. It's a pleasure to see you as well." Clawson held out a hand to Maryanne as well, who eyed him suspiciously but took his hand anyway.

  The other man with Clawson was dressed in a laboratory coat. He was short and slightly built, with black hair cropped short.

  "This," Clawson said, waving his hands towards the man in the lab coat, "Is Dr. Jaa Lee. He is one of our head researchers here. I will speak more on his role here in just a moment. If you'd be so kind, please give the projector to him."

  Alice had forgotten she was holding it. She handed the device over to Dr. Lee, who took it carefully in gloved hands. Alice watched him handle the device with deliberate care and began to wonder if she'd been careless with it without knowing it. Was it dangerous? Or was it simply precious?

  Dr. Lee's hands made swift motions over the device, and soon its holographic lens glowed to life, displaying rows of text and numbers and even graphs that were unintelligible to Alice.

  "It's confirmed," Dr. Lee said, his eyes wide with excitement as he scanned the scrolling columns of data. "She has a field."

  Clawson seemed pleased by this news. He nodded his head, a subtle smile on his deeply lined face.

  "What is that?" Alice asked, nodding towards the information displayed above the device's lens.

  Clawson looked towards Alice and her mother. "We had to be sure," he said, gesturing towards the projector. "We needed something that could detect the special qualities unique to metahumans. So, we built machines that could do this. This is a small, portable version. It tells us relatively little, but enough for us to be certain. It tells us you are who we thought you might be." He looked deep into Alice's eyes, something that made her feel immensely uncomfortable. "You have no idea," he said, holding the gaze, "no idea how very, very special you are. We have been searching for someone like you for a generation."

  Alice smiled awkwardly. "You told me I could meet with someone else who's like me," she reminded him. "Another metahuman." She glanced over her shoulder Levi, who stood watching everything while leaning casually on the hood of the car. "Is that him?" she asked, pointing her finger.

  Clawson's eyes went wide with mild confusion as he looked behind him to the other man. "Oh, no of course not!" he chuckled as he gestured for the man to come forward. "This is Levi Seraydarian. He's not a metahuman. He's a member of our team, one of our operators you saw a few days ago."

  "Why isn't he here," Alice pressed. "Will I get to see him soon?"

  Now that she thought about it, she could feel something familiar here. It was a curious feeling, like something invisible tugging at her chest, as though every heartbeat she had was nudging her in a single direction. She felt drawn to the building behind Clawson, eager to get inside it.

  Clawson nodded.

  "You will. If you and your mother would be so kind as to come inside with us, we'll take you right to him," he said.

  "Why didn't he come out to meet us?" she probed.

  "Because, like you, he is special, and we like to keep him away from the public eye as much as possible. Besides, he's busy training right now, but I'm sure he'll be nearly finished when we arrive. I thought you might like to see where he works and lives as well."

  Alice looked Clawson in the eye.

  "So, you're saying the metahuman I saw..."

  "Lives and works right here, in Williamsburg. Well, on Camp Peary, anyway. Did you have any idea you were so close to someone like you?"

  She didn't. Alice had no idea that the one person in the whole world who might be as gifted as she had been no more than a few miles from her apartment, from where she'd lived until she was eight years old. From the place where her father died.

  "If you'd like, we can go see him now." Clawson gently placed a hand on her shoulder and gestured towards the doors made of dark glass. He didn't push, but she could see he very clearly, very badly wanted her to go with him.

  The inside looked about as exciting as the outside. Levi escorted them to a security desk where an older, dark-skinned man in a brown uniform asked Alice if she had ID. She happened to bring her driver's license, which the man, who cheerfully introduced himself as Yancy, asked her to sign her name in a book for visitors. Past him, Alice could see hallways with doors leading into rooms she could not see, but she could hear the normal operations of an office building. The whine of copy machines. The tapping of keyboards. Mouse clicks. Paper. Tedium.

  "Enjoy your visit, Miss," said Yancy behind the desk. He had a warm smile. After she walked past him, she saw that he immediately straightened up as Clawson approached. "Welcome back, Director," said Yancy.

  As they walked past the desk and into a hallway, Alice realized how under-dressed she must have looked. She was in faded jeans and a light jacket the color of drying roses. I look like someone's kid come to visit them at work, she thought. That further fueled her desire to make this visit as short as politely possible.

  Levi led them to an elevator. She was surprised when I saw it, since the building looked like a single story from the outside. The stainless-steel doors, however, were still unremarkable. What was curious was that Levi needed a key card to open it.

  "You know, not very many people get to come down this way," said Clawson as he stepped into the elevator. "You have to be part of a very special group of people."

  Alice tried to imagine what kind of people he meant, but quickly became distracted as she saw the button panel for the elevator. It was an ordinary panel of buttons, nothing special about its appearance, except for the fact that its topmost floor was marked M and highlighted. The main floor, where they were at that moment. The other buttons were the letter "B" in front of numbers in descending order, from B1 to B13.

  "Just how many basements does this place have?" Maryanne asked, staring dumbfounded at the button panel.

  Clawson smiled. "The bigger the secrets, the deeper you dig to keep them."