Magic Children

Chapter 2 Lyons Public Defense Research Facility -17 years earlier - Arthur

"Why does he pace like that?"

I tip my head up from my book to squint at the warm courtyard. It's a sunny day, with soft light filtering through the looming pine trees above us. Almost pretty if it weren't for the cement walls that surround us.

Our newcomer, in his little grey jumpsuit, is a few years my senior, with ink black hair and quick eyes that trust no one. Instead of sitting and doing his lessons with us, he's pacing the perimeter, challenging the guards who keep us in, and occasionally getting shocked with their electric guns.

"He's new to Lyons, that's all," our lead scientist and somewhat self appointed school teacher, Dr. Cutter looks up from our worksheets that she's been grading. It's a fine day and instead of working in our rooms she said we could all come outside to enjoy the sunshine, though her real hope was that out here in a group Angel might be motivated to join us.

"I was asking the person who reads minds," Sam says, looking pointedly at me. Sam, my fellow captive, only eighteen months older than me with deep green grey eyes and a quick temper. Quiet until he's not; he can't read minds much at all, though he's stronger than me when it comes to telekinesis.

"It's not nice to read people's minds instead of talking to them," Dr. Cutter is amused. She's the nicest of our scientists and guards and brings us books and sometimes candies. She also taught me to read and keeps us up to speed in our lessons. Not as quick with the electric gun, she tolerates a certain level of mutant antics.

"He wants to go home," I say, frowning, "Sorry, he's worked up. I can't get much more."

"He has a home?" Sam asks, frowning. He's been in captivity his whole life. His parents left him outside a police station. With just a note. That their son is a freak. No name no address. Technically he has a number. Dr. Cutter started calling him Sam to be nice.

I have a family. Had a family. They brought me in to a hospital when I was a couple of years old. Wanted to surrender me properly, but they were afraid. I kept turning off the house' electric and shorting out appliances. After the fifth new toaster they figured they were done. So that's what I was worth, four toasters. That's all to them. But at least they gave me my name and medical stuff, for what that was worth. I realize that Sam's parents left him to die. Mine at least made sure I was alive. It's not much, but I realize it's something.

I didn't get told any of that. Dr. Cutter thinks about it, when she looks at us. She thinks it shows on Sam's face no one has ever loved him. I agree.

"He came into care much later than either of you did. We picked him up after he and his family were caught attempting to enter the country illegally. He was quite destructive trying to reunite himself with them. The family was granted citizenship in return for him agreeing to enter the program," Dr. Cutter says. But she knows more than she lets on. She's----afraid of him? A little. She's never been afraid of me and Sam, even when she takes our cuffs off to let us clean our wrists.

"He doesn't look like he's agreed to anything," Sam says, watching the boy with the thick black hair as he paces by the wall, sizing it up and the guards.

"He's been a trouble maker. I told them he would get along with us---with you boys as his new friends he'll settle in," Dr. Cutter says, confidently.

"What can he do?" I ask, frowning.

"He's a mutant, like you two," she says, pretending not to know what I mean.

"Yeah but he's not got gold in the eyes like us---and you said most of us have that," gold flecks, usually hard to spot but it's typically there among the brown or grey. This boy's eyes are inky black. "And how much damage could he cause? A few years ago he was littler than me. Can he do other things? Other than telepathy or telekinesis? I'm both, Sam's a little telepathic—,"