「 The Professor & I 」VOLUME II

(326) Evolved

Charles' POV

Much to my dismay, meticulous measures of Stryker had completely dissolved my simple wish of having Dr. Rao contact Lynn.

All land lines, mobile devices and computers allowed within the facility, not to mention the ones provided in the neighboring employee dormitory, were closely monitored in the name of maintaining the company's secrets proprietary.

The justified surveillance legitimated Stryker's supervision on all calls, text messages, and even traditionally written communication passing through the plant. Although it was alleged that only a small team had been sanctioned to investigate each and every channel of correspondence, there still lurked too much risk getting in touch directly.

Lynn was usually the one packed with bright ideas, my one precious source of inspiration for any combat strategy required, and without her, my mind was tragically an astonishingly blank canvas.

I continually wrecked my brain, actively striving to devise a plan capable of averting detection by Stryker's prudent protocols, only to have it burn in vain, creating nothing but a dangerous migraine. Hastily, I fumbled through the inner pockets of my jacket and the frantic rummaging that ended with a bottle of pills in my shaking hand inevitably invited serious tension into the atmosphere.

"Professor Xavier, are you alright?" Dr. Rao prodded in an uptight tone.

"Could you fetch me a glass of water, please?" I requested weakly, but urgently, and she complied without much hesitation as I wrestled to dish out my medication.

Jimmy watched me with a grave expression as I unsteadily dispensed a couple of tablets into my hand, struggling to accurately guide them towards my mouth, but with the lukewarm liquid Dr. Rao promptly delivered, I hurriedly flushed them down my system.

Gradually, the discomfort was contained and the incredible effects of the drug fortunately sedated the attack of another potentially disastrous seizure as I slumped my back to the pillows, relishing in a moment of peace on Jimmy's bed where we had synchronously, and strenuously, climbed back onto before the incursion of depressing discussions.

"Why do you need that? Are you ill?" Jimmy probed, staring at me with concerned and simultaneously disturbed eyes.

"It's complicated, Jimmy. But yes, I am," I affirmed, mustering a kind smile, as I discreetly stowed away the small cylindrical vial.

"You look very tired, Professor Xavier. Maybe you should get some rest," Dr. Rao sincerely advised.

"I can't afford rest. Not before I figure this out," I refuted in a determined voice.

"You're not going to figure anything out like that," she claimed cynically and massively inflamed by her frivolous skepticism, I furiously whipped out my wallet, flashing them the photograph of Lynn enclosed within.

"Do you see this?! Do you see her?!" I yelled in a frenzy.

"Don't be fooled by that smile. Her life's hardly the breeze it reflects," I snarled bitterly.

"A woman this beautiful should never have to experience pain but tragedy has demolished her time and again. Trauma has devastated her in ways more cruel than anyone deserves, damaged her in ways so unthinkably permanent, I-" I lamented, aching so badly with every word that they were autonomously precluded.

"It's said, the broken are the more evolved, but..." I articulated with a doleful sigh.

"It really was not easy for her to come back from all that suffering," I confessed, lightly brushing my thumb over that delightful face wrapped under a layer of plastic.

"And the last thing I need is for her to be tortured by the thought that her husband has vanished," I emphasized in a wretched tone, clutching her picture dearly.

"I understand; and I am sorry—I cannot imagine if my Angel ever goes missing," Dr. Rao consoled truthfully and I gazed up at her as she stared at an image stored at the back of her cardholder, oddly struck by a vague memory.

"Angel... She pursues Computer Engineering in college, am I right?" I posed in a tentative tone.

"Computer Science," she replied, gleaming with immense pride.

"Why? What is it?" Dr. Rao examined curiously, probably noticing the veil of shame progressively developing on my face, albeit without totally recognising that it emerged simply contemplating the exploitation of an innocent sophomore's expertise.

"I may have something but it's a bit of a long shot and if you're not willing to take the chance, it's perfectly fine," I revealed in an uncertain tone.

"I told you, I never wanted to harm anyone. If there is anything else I can do that will help, please, feel free to tell me," she asserted graciously.

After a gruelling internal battle, despite her seemingly unconditional generosity, I finally outlined my intentions and surprisingly, she was highly receptive of the drafted arrangement, even contributing an element of her own into the equation.

With the bold assumption that Stryker possessed no supercomputers at his disposal to interpret the, otherwise gibberish, language, we capitalised on her unique mother tongue that remained predominantly foreign to him and the bulk of other workers. Extended conversations in Tamil with her daughter was common practice, thankfully, albeit not at the unearthly hour that was now past midnight, and was perhaps the last viable avenue to wire our desired information off this guarded island without arousing significant suspicion.

My initial proposal only entailed the transmission of an encrypted memo over the Internet into Lynn's online mailbox and a ring to the mansion from a remote source but admitting that she was clandestinely in custody of some preliminary sketches, subconsciously gathered when she was personally solicited by the company's President to be involved in this venture, Dr. Rao pitched for the unfinished drawings—stashed away in her old apartment, now solely occupied by her daughter attending the state university, in the heart of the technology-infused town—to be relayed as well.

Definitely grateful, and inherently desperate, I immediately accepted her offer, fully comprehending that Lynn was bound to show up, regardless. Careful detailing of the hatched agenda unwittingly consumed the time and daybreak was, after all, not altogether that far off. It was the onslaught of minutes after, crawling at the speeds of slugs and snails, when we thoroughly relied on the wit of a scared teenager, that were the most trying.

A plethora of specific instructions, precisely but inexplicably ordered by her nearest kin first thing in the morning, was surely adequate to overwhelm any ordinary girl. Although Dr. Rao was confident to vouch for her daughter's proficiencies as anything but typical, and I was torn to doubt my own choice of engaging her, the inevitably biased comments were not exactly the most convincing amidst this perilous gamble.

However, upon enormous anticipation and an involuntary nap fueled by pure exhaustion, I was greeted with an abundance of sunshine, and promising news.

"She sent it," Dr. Rao announced with charitable smile.

"That's marvellous," I feebly croaked.

"But your wife's not at home," she disclosed dismally.

"She's on her way already," I murmured, intuitively checking my Rolex.

"It's three?" I remarked in bewilderment, squinting at the exquisite face amidst the glaring flares.

"Like I said, you looked very tired," Dr. Rao teased slightly.

"Aren't we all," I joked in a soft tone, glancing to Jimmy who was still fast asleep.

"Will she be able to see it?" Dr. Rao enquired, cautious and solemn.

"I trust she will," I assured with a faithful smile.