11:00, 07-16-01, Suburbs

The bookstore is largely empty at this early hour with the computer café full to the brim with the usual customers and the skipping summer school students. At a forgotten counter sits a gray-haired woman in black sneakers, jeans, and a black tee-shirt that reads, “You touch it, you buy it.” Which was the unspoken rule of the bookstore, if you read any book or comic more than five minutes, it's yours. And pity the fool who tried to not comply with the unspoken iron fist rule. After the first two incidents involving painful and most embarrassing body pins on the floor, the customers swiftly learned and spread the unspoken rule of the store amongst the community and the new customers.

Below the counter is a cute teddy bear in a butler suit playing a random shooting RPG game. Mr. Wilkins cackles evilly as he PPK’s noobs and anyone within range. #017 yawns tiredly after last night’s last-minute cleanup. #017’s black sneaker shoe soles rustle against the floor before she reaches into the bright red colored chip bag for another handful of cheese flavored chips. The minutes trickle by as she chews and swallows until her licks the last crumb out of her hand.

The somewhat germaphobe that she was, #017 reaches under the counter and grabs a hand wipe to clean her hand with. Finished, #017 reaches under the counter and unwraps a candy bar. Without hesitation, she begins to eat the candy bar. Mr. Wilkins without glancing up from his game, disapprovingly retorts, “That’s pure sugar!”

#017 talks through a mouth full of chocolate. “Yeah, but it may the last one I’ll ever eat, Mr. Wilkins,” she mumbled back. Mr. Wilkins sighs but relents in the face of his girls pleading puppy dog eyes. “So, how did the piggy backing go?” #017 asked as they wait to be picked up.

Mr. Wilkins proudly puffs out his chest. “Easy-peasy, I’m much more superior than any banking system. I just transferred the illegal funds out and turned them into coins, before transferring to an untraceable account and depositing them into a Swiss account and safely setting up payment to be transferred to our chosen charities,” Mr. Wilkins said as #017 hides her smile at the pause. “Though I might have had a bit of trouble with a hacker, not to worry, I ensured that his systems won’t work for a very long time,” Mr. Wilkins cackled darkly to himself.

#017 reaches down and playfully tugs on the teddy bears ear in response. Mr. Wilkins ears twitch unhappily before #017 let’s go. #017 returns to her bag of chips as the door twinkles. #017 glances over as her face grows stiff at seeing the beauty sashaying in expensive heels and dress. The woman pauses dramatically before the counter before removing her sunglasses and stylishly flipping her hair over her shoulder.

“Hello, Victoria, how are you?” The woman purred happily.

#017 stiffly replies, “Hello, Giselle. I see that you’re still alive. It’s a shame really, I was under the impression you were dead.”

Giselle flutters her eyelashes playfully and says, “You know me, I have more than nine lives.” #017 eyebrows go up in speculative reply as Giselle continues, “Anyhow, I love what you’ve done for yourself. You’re a billionaire who lives in a small home and runs a bookstore for fun. If you don’t want the money, I want it, because I can assure you it will be put to better use.”

#017 stuffs a chip into her mouth and doesn’t reply. #017 munches noisily to the vast aggravation of Giselle. “Fine. As I was saying, I am here on official business. The organization would like for Victoria Starr to join the Black Woods Academy, but more specifically as a cover to protect a single objective, a young seventeen-year-old Esper known as Albert Cross,” Giselle dramatically said.

#017 purposefully stuffs another handful of chips into her mouth as Giselle’s face darkens with irritation. Giselle takes a deep breath to steady herself, before saying, “We are pleading with you, Victoria. Your father, Atlas for all his terrible actions, truly did his best to protect the world from harm. If wasn’t for him, the entire world’s governments would have fallen during the mass panic and humanity would have fallen into God knows whose hands. And believe me, when I say this, not all members of the alternative evolutionary groups bear us goodwill.”

Failing to gain a response, Giselle attempts a different route. “I know you and your father had your differences, but at the end of the day, Atlas was still your father. I know that despite everything that happened between the both of you, you still visited his grave at least once.”

#017 swallows loudly and coldly answered, “Then you know that I was the one who killed him.”

Giselle’s eyes widen in shock as she chokes. “It’s- impossible!” Giselle stuttered. #017 doesn’t respond as Giselle's eyes flicker in shock. A moment later, Giselle composes herself and says, “I see, I was unaware. Either way, if not for your father, then as a favor to me, please.”

#017 stops chewing on her food and is silent for a moment. “Why me?” #017 suddenly asked.

Giselle warily replies, “The Black Woods Academy has a ceiling for an age of enrollment as 18 years old and despite being over-age, you look young enough to pass if needed. Most of our best and most suitable candidates are far past that age leaving any other choices, mostly underage candidates. Despite being geniuses in some form or another, they’re teenagers. And certainly, most of them have skills and have even walked and survived the darker paths of life, but none of them compare to you.

All of our candidates are flawed, but they still pretend they are perfect or worse Gods, that are un-killable. And that is the worst mistake they can commit because all it takes is one false enemy underestimation and they are dead. You on the other understand your limits and still know how to use them to your advantage. You are our ideal candidate.”

#17 ponders her response, before she flatly replies, “No, I am certain that you will get by as you have always have.”

Giselle reaches into her bag and places a folder onto the table. Without being asked, she opens the folder to show a picture of a dark haired young man with bright blue gray eyes. The teenage boys face is quite fair and handsome even. “Look at him! He needs your help,” Giselle pleaded.

#017 studies the picture closer for a moment, before closing the folder shut and pushing it back towards Giselle with one finger. “My answer is still, no,” #017 coldly stated.

Giselle hesitates for a moment and closes her eyes. “He’s your twin brother,” Giselle softly whispers causing Mr. Wilkins to choke and be killed in the online game.

“You’re lying,” #017 flatly retorted.

Giselle reaches into her bag and pulls out a tiny faded picture. A younger smiling Atlas holds two newborn babies swaddled in a blue and pink blanket. #017 studies the features on the picture and swiftly compares the images in her mind. A memory of a long-ago time surfaces in her mind, that of Atlas holding her as a small child in his lap. Atlas softly said, “You had a twin brother, Victoria. But he died a long time ago.”

Mr. Wilkins casually peeks at the image and begins his own search to verify the truth. Mr. Wilkins pales, despite lacking any blood upon finding a birth record matching the description of his girl and Albert. Mr. Wilkins remains silent and searches for more information on the unknown twin of his girl.

#017 opens the folder back up and compares the image of the teen age boy and his physical features to her own. Subtle, but the similarity still existed between their two faces. However, the memory of her childhood did little to convince her. “If he exists, does he know about me?” #017 quietly asked.

Giselle takes back the faded picture and returns into her bag. “No, he does not. He-,” Giselle’s voice falters for a moment. Clearing her throat, Giselle restarts, “While in the womb, it was discovered that the both of you were powerful telepathic Esper’s with the probability to develop another Esper ability.” #017’s eyes widen in surprise at the unexpected revelation that explained her uncanny sixth sense. A tinge of understanding and horror emerges in her eyes as she continues to listen.

“However, Albert was the stronger Esper out the two of you. Twins with more than one developing ability as fetuses, usually accidentally kill the other twin either within the womb or as small children. The more likely scenario is that one of the fetuses would die upon being birthed unable to cope with the outside world having adapted solely to the womb.

A decision was made, only one could be protected and the other silenced. Atlas refused the Esper Councils suggestions, but your birth mother made the decision without consulting him. The choice was made the weaker twin, you. In secret, a member of the Esper Council carefully came and performed the procedure. Like a doctor with a scalpel, the Esper Council member cut into your tiny fetus brain, specifically the area that deals with Esper ability growth enough to cause the Esper ability growth to be forever damaged unable to grow further, but not enough to damage the brain itself and its functions. A remnant of your original abilities probably remains as a sixth sense, but as nothing much more.

The pregnancy continued and the two of you were born as healthy newborns. But within the space of an hour after birth, there were serious complications with Albert. Albert was unable to form the automatic Esper mental shield. Atlas would have never have given his son up without a fight. And so, with the aid of your birth mother, Albert’s death was successfully faked and he was secretly taken away by the Esper council.

Albert was put into a cryogenic sleep until he could form his own mental shields. It took almost three years, that’s why he only looks 17 years old despite being your twin brother. After being awoken, he was adopted by an Esper family and does not know nor is aware of the circumstances surrounding his birth,” Giselle’s voice trails off into a heavy silence.

#017 eyes are dark with a mix of emotions. Mr. Wilkins glares from under the counter at Giselle and places a furry paw of comfort on his girl’s leg. #017 reaches down and pulls on his ears in comfort for a moment, before pulling her hand back.

#017 voice sounds gruff, “I will agree to this assignment, but I have some conditions of my own. First find me another position, Giselle.” Giselle opens her mouth to protest, but #017 easily interrupts her. “No, but’s Giselle, I am doing you the favor. This is not for him. He and I have had zero contact nor ties beyond that of a genetic one. But I can assure you, I’ll keep him in mind as an organ donor should I need an organ in the future.”

Giselle swallows the protests in her throat and softly says, “Alright, let’s say, my superiors agree. What type of position are we talking about?”

“I need a position of authority that allows me access to places that students are not allowed to and one that allows me to wander about the school without being stopped. The role of a student is a far too limited role to facilitate security. I’m surprised you didn’t catch that, Giselle,” #017 matter-of-factly stated with some relish.

Giselle nods and replies, “On such short notice the best position I could allow you access to is that of a teacher. But this is a school for alternative evolutionary groups, what can you possibly teach them?”

“That is none of your concern, just arrange it. I will send the details to the contact information included in the file,” #017 coldly said.

Giselle stiffly says, “What are the other conditions?”

“I will have zero contact with any of your other candidates nor will they be informed of my existence. And that includes my biological relationship to the objective, Albert. And that includes the objective as well, he is not be informed of our biological relationship. Also, be aware of my refusal to aid any of the other candidates and should they be caught or killed, that is none of my concern. My sole objective is to finish my mission and return home by the end of this year’s semester.

Therefore, I want you to relay this most specific message back to your superiors with the clear understanding that, I am not your spy, I am merely fulfilling a favor to the person who once knew me as a child. After this is done, we will have nothing else to do with each other. Is that clear?” #017 briskly said.

Before Giselle has a chance to process the list of demands #017 adds a final note of warning. “And should your superiors change their minds about any of the said conditions, they should remember exactly what happened to the last person who crossed me. I am sure you will find they will be most agreeable and in favor of the set terms.”

Giselle is quiet for a moment, before typing the response into her electronic watch, VEX. (Instant texting, calling, or facial communication, time, apps, etc. via a watch was one of the new products emerged between Esper scientists and one of the world’s largest computer company, that had a certain fruit as its name.)

Seconds later, the swift response pops up on a screen only visible to Giselle’s eyes. Giselle reaches into her bag and says, “Done. You will have a position and that of a registered attaché. You will need to fulfill the information for the selected teaching position, select an attaché and fake an Esper ability. Please ensure that the ability is a believable lie. Also included within the contents of folder include the school’s information of staff, blue prints, the target’s information and more, if you lack any information please merely ask and it shall be given.

The next school semester starts in less than a month, you will need to be there by August 15th,” Giselle placed the information on the counter, before turning away. Giselle turns briskly away, before abruptly halting.

“I-. I am still your mother, Victoria. And despite everything that has happened between us, I am truly glad that you are alive and well,” Giselle quietly said, before darting away. The door rings loudly announcing her exit as #17 pops another chip into her mouth.

#17 reaches over and glances at the documents on the counter as Mr. Wilkins chokes at the news bombshell, before rapidly climbing onto the counter. “SHE’S YOUR MOTHER?! You told me she was dead!” Mr. Wilkins roared.

“I fail to see how that matters?” #17 drily said, while reading over the school registration documents.

Mr. Wilkins stomps on the counter and says, “SHE’S YOUR MOTHER!”

“Your point is?”

“Don’t you want to talk about it, don’t you want to ask her to explain?”

“This isn’t Dr. Philips, Mr. Wilkins. But more importantly, I honestly don’t care. My mom and dad’s names are Mary and David Hadfield, and my younger brother is Gabriel Hadfield. So, no, I’m not interested in knowing her as she’s merely my egg donor,” #17 murmured out loud.

Mr. Wilkins slaps his forehead with his paw and sighs. “OMG, I’m living with an emotional retard!”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Mr. Wilkins. Besides, retard is a terrible cruel offensive word, the correct wording would have been emotionally inept,” #017 said with a tsk-tsk tone in her voice as she busily studies all the contents on hand.

Mr. Wilkins loudly declares, “I’m going back to my game.” Mr. Wilkins jumps back down and returns to his computer and pretends to play while researching more on the two new subjects. If his girl, wasn’t going to look out properly for herself, he would do so in her stead.