More Than the X Can See

Chapter 2

“I’ll expect your theses on my desk by five o’clock Friday. If not, expect a reduction in your grade,” Doctor Angelique Green informed her students in dismissal as she placed her laptop into a padded blue satchel.

Jean Summers and her husband, Scott, stood up from their seats at the rear of the lecture hall and walked towards the front of the class as it cleared of students.

“Doctor Green?” Scott asked as they approached.

Doctor Angelique Green was an attractive woman around five and a half feet tall. Her curvy frame filled out, to Scott’s masculine eyes, a long sky blue summer dress perfectly. Her golden blonde hair was in a long thick French braid that ended in a matching blue clip below her hips. “Yes? How can I help you, Mr. …?” her voice was a mellow soprano. As she looked up, Scott noticed she had hazel eyes.

“Summers,” Scott supplied as he held out his hand, “Scott Summers. And this is my wife, Jean Summers,” he introduced Jean as she also held out her hand.

“Hello,” Doctor Green shook their hands, “How can I help you two?” Doctor Green looked from him to Jean. Scott Summers was a tall man, his brown hair had a slight touch of gray and even though Angelique had to look up more than nine inches at him, she still couldn’t see under his red tinged designer sunglasses at his eye color. She was able to look eye to eye with Jean Summers who was a beautiful woman with bright red hair and green eyes. They were both physically fit like they worked out at a gym and looked good in the gray pants and polo shirts they wore. Angelique noticed the logo on the upper left of their shirts read Xavier Institute for Higher Learning. Mr. Summers held a thin black briefcase in his left hand.

Now that he was up close, Scott could tell that Doctor Green looked to be about 30 years old, younger than they had expected and much more attractive to his surprise. “We’re not students,” he explained. “We’d like to talk to you. We’re from the Xavier Institute.”

“Oh!” Doctor Green’s eyes widened. “Well, um. I think we’d better leave the campus then.” She looked around at the last few college students chatting near the door. “Gossip spreads like wildfire here. Have you eaten lunch yet? There’s a nice local restaurant downtown.”

“No, we haven’t eaten and that would be wonderful,” Jean said pleasantly.

“Then let me put my tote in the car and you can follow me.” Doctor Green smiled. “By the way, call me Angel.”

Scott smiled, “Then you’ll have to call us Scott and Jean.” Jean nodded as they followed Angel out of the lecture hall.

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“Here we are,” Angel said smiling as she met them in the restaurant parking lot. “You didn’t have any problems following me did you?” she asked anxiously.

“No problem whatsoever,” Scott smiled reassuringly.

“So, what are the facilities like at the Institute?” she asked. “What are the ages and grades of the students?”

“Actually, we have a waiver you’ll have to sign before we can discuss the more informational aspects of the Institute,” Scott said, raising the same briefcase in his hand a bit.

“A waiver?” Angel’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“Yes,” Jean explained, “At the Institute we like to preserve our privacy and the privacy of our charges. Anything we tell you will have to be held in the strictest confidentiality.”

Angel frowned, “I’d never heard of the Xavier Institute until I received the hiring notice from the employment agency. I know I sent my resume packet to a post office box in New York as I was instructed. So I assumed that the Institute was in the eastern states if not New York itself.”

“You’re correct. The Institute is back East,” Scott said and motioned to the restaurant with his free hand. “Once we’re inside, we’ll have you sign the waiver and ask you a few questions about your background.”

“Okay,” Angel said nodding agreeably the frown having left her face, “I can understand privacy issues. I have no problem with that.”

They entered the restaurant, Scott asked for a table in the corner and the hostess obliged them. After they placed their orders with the waitress, Scott got out the waiver in his briefcase and handed Angel a pen. While Angel read the waiver and signed it, Jean and Scott shared a knowing glance and then looked around the restaurant. They noticed there were enough patrons to help keep Angel from creating a scene, but not enough to fill the tables near them.

Angel handed the pen and waiver back to Scott. He checked her signature, put the waiver in his briefcase, then took out the folder Angel had sent to the Institute.

“According to this you have a Doctorate in Physics,” he stated.

“That’s right,” she replied.

“You also have a Master in Biology and another in Architectural Design.”

“Yes,” she smiled, “I took one Major and two Minors at Stanford.”

Jean entered the conversation, “I noticed you included the certification applications for Music and Dance Instructor. Have you received your Certificates?”

“I will have them by the end of this semester. With my experience I was able to challenge most of the classes. I’ve been a member of Free Danz, a local multicultural troupe, since I was five,” She explained. “That information is listed on my resume, too. The manager of the troupe was considering hiring me as an assistant when I started certification. Then the economy collapsed, she lost a lot of students and had to withdraw the offer.”

“Does your semester end at the beginning of June?” Scott asked.

“Yes, Berkeley is a state run facility so it follows the normal school year.”

The waitress brought their main course. And they were silent for a time as they ate.

Jean used her telepathy to try to get past Angel’s defenses and read her mind, but slammed into an impenetrable wall. Jean continued to do her best without revealing her presence to Angel who seemed oblivious to her attempts. *Scott,* she contacted her husband telepathically, *I can’t get into her mind.*

Scott paused in raising his fork to his mouth. *What do you mean?* he asked back through their mental link.

*I can’t get through at all,* Jean frowned at him. *It’s like she has an adamantium wall up. I can’t even begin to dent it. In fact, I keep feeling like my attempts are just sliding off, being pushed away.*

“Is there something wrong with the food?” Angel asked worriedly looking from Scott to Jean and back.

Scott recovered first and put his fork down. “No. Not a thing. It’s quite delicious,” he assured her. “I was just thinking, if you have been with a dance troupe for what, twenty years, aren’t you worried about moving to the East Coast?”

“No, not really,” Angel replied. “I feel it’s a good time to break away. I’ve been thinking of moving for a while. The silicon industry really drove this area and when the dust settled after the crash, it brought down the local economy too. Employment opportunities have become scarce. I have a lot of friends who have had to take pay cuts with longer hours just to keep their current jobs. A lot of people are overqualified for the employment that is available and the competition’s fierce. I think moving out of California would be a good experience for me. I’d been checking out the employment opportunities in the Midwest when I received the notice from Xavier.”

“What about friends or family?” asked Jean.

“Most of my friends and I have lost touch since I left Livermore Labs,” she said sadly. “And I’ve spent so much time these past two years just trying to get my life back on track, that I haven’t had the time to cultivate new friendships here in Berkeley.

“As for family,” she sighed, “my parents died in a car crash five years ago. The rest of the family is spread out in different cities across California and we only keep in touch during the major holidays.”

“Sorry to hear about your parents,” Jean said sympathetically.

“It was five years ago and I’ve made peace,” she said. She turned to Scott, “Please, tell me about the Institute.”

“The Xavier Institute for Higher Learning is in Westchester County, New York,” Scott began. “The students range from late grammar to high school.”

“I have no problem teaching adolescents and young adults,” Angel smiled. “I specifically mentioned in my packet that I was looking for a younger student level than my current position. Which subjects were you considering I teach?”

“We’re mainly looking for someone who can teach the sciences. Biology, Chemistry, Physics are all under consideration, but we have a limited staff and you may be required to teach other fields of study,” he answered.

“Such as?” she inquired.

“Mathematics,” Jean supplied.

“History,” Scott added.

“That sounds perfectly fine to me. I have no problem with those subjects,” Angel said. “What did you mean by a limited staff?”

“We are receiving new students on a semi-regular basis,” Scott explained. “As you can tell, the Institute is very selective in recruiting employees. It notifies those in which it is interested and doesn’t advertise publicly.”

Jean spoke up, “Because of this we don’t have as many educators on staff as we’d like. This may necessitate your taking over a class or two for a short time while the other staff is ill or away.”

“I’m flattered, but I don’t understand this,” Angel was confused. “My qualifications are in no way above par. I just recently received my credentials as a teacher last year. I believe you may have come to California under a misunderstanding. I have very little experience and you want me to teach children who are gifted?” Angel leaned back in her chair. “Hiring me may be a disservice to the Institute. I’m afraid I’ll have to turn the offer down.”

“We are always looking for new talent. A teacher with your special abilities may be invaluable to our team of professionals.” Jean said cryptically.

“What ‘special abilities’?” Angel asked. “You could find hundreds of educators to fill your requirements.”

Scott and Jean shared a look and they both leaned forward. “The Xavier Institute only educates children with ‘special gifts’ … those gifts are mutations,” Jean said quietly.

“Mutants?” Angel looked startled. Then she quietly asked, “The Xavier Institute only teaches mutant children? Why? Why only mutants?”

“The Institute is a facility that has been designed specifically to help educate children with mutations of all kinds. It is still necessary for them to get the education that all children need. But they also must receive special care to learn to control and understand the powers that they have been given by no choice of their own. Especially if they are to function as adults in the public eye,” Scott explained.

“But what about the government? They’re still trying to decide...”

“The general public sentiment towards mutants is being swayed by politicians and the media constantly from one side of the pendulum to the other,” Jean broke into Angel’s train of thought. “But the Xavier Institute has always maintained a strict code of privacy. It also has several contingency plans should the government become hostile to those with special gifts.”

The table fell silent as the waitress came up and cleared away the main course. She asked if they wanted dessert. When Angel declined, Jean and Scott did too. Jean and Scott shared a concerned look; they hoped their trip had not been in vain.

“All of the students are … gifted?” Angel asked.

“Yes,” Jean smiled. “Including some of the staff. This is not a place to hide children away. The Institute is for Learning first and foremost. Tolerance of others differences is a high priority also. Scott, please get out the brochure the Professor sends out to prospective families.” Scott reached into the briefcase and took out a booklet that he handed to Angel. “As you can see by the pictures, there are no tall gates or fences except at the entrance and perimeter of the property. It’s a vast estate that encompasses several miles of land surrounding the main building. We have a full facility with separate dorm rooms for the students and private rooms for the staff. There is a cafeteria and a large common room on the main floor on one side of the lobby area and classrooms on the other side. The Institute is open all year. If you decide to join our staff, you will be teaching approximately 15-30 students in each class. Even Professor Xavier, the founder of the school, teaches classes in the social sciences including psychology and literature.”

“It’s a bit overwhelming,” Angel said, still looking at the booklet. “I’ll really have to think about this. I would need to make sure my teaching credentials still qualified in the state of New York.”

“Don’t worry,” Scott assured her, “as a private facility, you can fulfill any requirements once you’ve moved in and had time to get acquainted with the unique atmosphere the Institute provides. Professor Xavier will be glad to answer any questions you may have.” He waved at their waitress.

The waitress came over and Scott settled the bill.

“You can keep the booklet,” Scott said and used a pen to put a phone number on the back. “This is the phone number to call if you are still interested in the position. If you don’t get someone from the Institute on the phone, it forwards to an answering service. Leave a message as to what time and number you can be contacted at and someone will call you back at your convenience to answer any questions you may have. If you do decide to take the position, please tell us the first day you are available so we can make travel arrangements for you.”

Jean used her napkin to wipe her mouth and placed it on the table. “It was nice meeting you, “ she said as she stood up and held out her hand. Angel shook her hand and then turned to Scott.

“It really was nice meeting you and we hope you come to a positive decision,” he said, shaking her hand. “We really think you’d make a great addition to our staff.”

“Thank you,” Angel replied, looking a little stunned and overwhelmed.

Scott and Jean left the restaurant and walked back to their rental car. “Do you think she’ll take the job?”

“I don’t know. I hope so. Like I told you, I couldn’t get into her mind so she’s definitely gifted,” Jean whispered. “I need to call the Professor right away.”