「 The Professor & I 」VOLUME II

(276) Upheaval

Lynn's POV

Charles was clearly convincing in his debate and it was not just my subjective opinion, for it proved to have swayed the President.

After the climatic spectacle of lightning and thunder, Storm quickly eradicated the gloomy weather. The grey skies were banished into non-existence as puffy white clouds returned. A majestic blue housed the land as orange beams of the dusking evening shone into the President's office, illuminating his camera crew again.

Simultaneously, Kurt teleported Charles and his chaperones inconspicuously back into their aircraft which was stowed nearby at Ronald Reagan. Promptly releasing the humans, Charles lingered to monitor their minds, providing a continuous feed to me that reflected exactly on our large screen.

The crowd gathered in the Oval Office resumed their operations normally, unaware that their lives had been secretly fast forwarded by several minutes. Not a soul spotted the oddly appearing folder but the eerie silence ultimately gained their attention.

Everyone stared at the dumbfounded president weirdly, frowning at his sudden lack of speech. Suspiciously, the main videographer checked the teleprompter and noting that it was rolling properly, he faced back to the President, urging him on in an anxious whisper.

McKenna glanced up, subtly scanning the room. His eyes skimmed over his interviewers and subordinates, discerning nothing out of the usual. For moments, he looked as though he had doubted his previous experience, that it was all but a nightmarish hallucination. Until his fingers brushed over the plastic file generously gifted by Rogue, his brain finally accepted that everything was not the work of his imagination.

He inhaled deeply, resting his hands neatly on the table in an interlocked fashion. Slowly, his lips parted and words of wisdom were conveyed. Charles continued to update me with live scenes but I severed them from Jones and loosened my grasp on him, sensing his inability to cope with the exhaustion.

Gently, I guided the petite Caucasian onto my lap and he plopped lethargically against me, albeit careful not lean against my elevated wrist. He panted heavily as the pack of students gazed towards us, shocked and horribly worried by the abrupt swap of transmission. I smiled at them reassuringly, quietly gesturing to the mainstream broadcast, and they glued their eyes back to the television.

Rhythmically stroking the ten-year-old's back, I discreetly lulled him to sleep as I tuned to Charles' exclusive channel. The President's secretary was the first to be stunned, listening to the improvised version. The press gradually grew alarmed, inferring from the tactful sentences the latent meaning to advocate our assimilation.

Progressively, I felt the area around me saturate with relief. Smiles curved onto the young faces, now radiant with comfort and satisfaction. Shortly, their grins broadened with the return of their intriguing cartoon.

The address was concise but, more importantly, precise. The details had yet to be unveiled but it was for certain, there was going to be an upheaval.

As the special program ceased, Storm switched the onboard displays back to flight mode and fired up the engines of their jet. Before long, the tasked group arrived back on Long Island and the children rejoiced as they skipped towards our private underground shuttle while those more seriously injured enjoyed the privilege of being flown home.

The day had elapsed, retiring into a glittery navy. The stars seemed exceptionally beautiful, but none had much energy remaining to duly appreciate their glory.

The kids were extremely tired, if not from the unruly ordeal then definitely from the taxing clean up. Graciously, the young ones, deceptively mature for their modest age, offered their assistance to pick up after the messes scattered throughout the mansion. With appropriate delegation and significant facilitation from their teachers, our big family eventually restored our extensive abode to sufficiency.