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Lizzy Langdale and the Unassigneds
New, not so sweet, home

New, not so sweet, home

Someone takes my hand again, and I assume we’ve moved again. We pause there for a moment, and I assume they’re talking. I can feel a small booth of sorts to my left, like a border passing. I think we’re standing on a beach - I can smell the sea air and the ground is soft and easily gives way, like sand. Then that all disappears, like a bubble being wrapped around us from the top and downwards. All I can still sense is four people surrounding me. Then we somehow move, like a jump without a landing. I suppose we hover there for some reason, but then we land again and the bubble disappears. This time we’re standing on grass, and though the smell of the sea is still there the air is different. It doesn’t have the wind strength you’d expect by the sea, it feels more like a meadow protected from the strongest winds leaving only a pleasant breeze.

“Welcome to your new home.” The ability-feeling man tells me and takes the blindfold off. I blink a few times and look up at the massive building in front of me. I can’t tell if it’s supposed to be a fortress or a castle, or maybe a really old prison with an odd architecture. It is completely square with four towers poking up at the corners. It looks like it was build to last and be practical rather than for aesthetic purposes. Around it is a meadow gradually turning to the forest on one side, and a plain gradually turning to cliffs on the other side. A stone path winds it’s way from us to the big oak doors. Okay, I don’t actually know if it’s oak, but isn’t that sort of thing always oak? We make our way up the path towards the building. I take in as much about it as I can. The front doors start on the first level but don’t end until the 6th floor - that, I think, has to be for astetics, there’s no practical reason for it, it’s just plain stupid. And intimidating, I have to admit that. On either side of the doors are 4 large windows, and on the 7th and 8th floors there are two windows added in the space where the door was below. On the floors above that the windows are much smaller. I count 12 across evenly spaced - except for the two outer ones. I also count 10 much smaller windows, some of those grouped together two and two. I count 12 of those floors. I am assuming that means the upper floors have a different purpose than the lower ones.

We reach the giant doors and they open of their own accord - which I suppose is a good thing, those would have been practically impossible to open by hand.

The first thing we see when we enter is a giant staircase in the middle of the room - and I mean giant, I bet ten people could easily fit side by side on a single step. It winds it’s way up in circles, and we follow it. The rooms around us seem to be in rows, we passed the hallway separating the outer row on our way to the staircase. An other row is running parralelle to us, and I count two doors followed by a small passageway and then three more doors. Directly in front of us are three more rooms with their doors directed at us, and I can spy a row behind those too. I had direct visual of 26 rooms, and the layout remains exactly that same as we wind our way up the giant stairs. Whatever they are doing here they seem to need not just a lot of space, but a lot of individual rooms. On the 6th floor the outer doors round off. On each floor except the first the place where the front door is has been guarded off with a handrail, whether to avoid accidents or attempts I don’t know. Still, the fact that it is there means something.

On the 7th floor everything changes. All the hallways and the individual rooms are replaced with one single line of giant rooms. I count only 8 doors in all on the floor. The doors all have different colors, one looks like it was painted in the 80’s except the colors all still look fresh; one door is wooden and old looking, not just retro but antique; one is very modern and stylish looking with clean lines. One of my companions knocks on a dark blue one, and a grey-haired man steps out.

“Oh, you are here. Good. It’s on the ninth floor,” he tells us. We go to a small passage between two rooms and find another staircase, much smaller this time though. I look back at the floor design - on exactly the middle of each wall there is another small passage, leading to similar staircases.

We go up once, to the 8th floor, and I spot the great open space with no walls but rows of tables upon rows of tables, and in the middle just one room with what I suppose are serving tables all around it - I can see the stacks of plates on their sides. It has to be a dinning hall. And the rooms down stairs, from the small glimpse I caught behind my newest escort, seemed to be sitting rooms.

We continue up once more, though I can see the staircase goes on beyond this. The 9th floor, this is where the small windows start. We step into a hallway with the small rooms on either side of us. I quickly count the doors, but here there are only 8 on the outer rim, 16 in all. The hallway ends on either side with a door leading to somewhere else, and I assume that will be the corners of the building. Even assuming that the windows on the far sides belong to whatever they have hidden in the corners, that still leaves this hallway two windows short. Either the building is rectangular or there are two rooms unaccounted for here.

“This will be your assigned room while you’re with us,” the man tells me and points to a door with the number 951 written on it. “The dining hall is on the seventh floor, I’m afraid lunch is over by now, but I can have the kitchen send something up if you’re hungry.” Service. What is this supposed to be? “I promise you we’ll take good care of you here miss Langdale, if there’s anything you need just ask.” Kindergarten-prison-hotel? “Do you have any questions before I leave?”

“Yeah. What is this place, and why am I here?” He looks at my suit companions.

“She doesn’t know?”

“That’s not our job.” Gray-haired guy looks utterly baffled at their unhelpfulness.

“This is a school, miss Langdale. The AAEG, the American Academy of Extraordinary Gifts. I’m the school’s headmaster.”

“What, like Hogwarts? Or do you imagine yourself to be Charles Xavier?”

“It is a school for people like you. Here you will learn to control your powers, learn about your history, and meet people like you. You will be with the Transporters.”

“I will be in the mail room?”

“You will be with the people who can transport objects or people using the power of their mind.”

“Sorry, I’m a Ravenclaw. Better luck next time. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” I make to move back to the stairs we came from.

“We won’t. Not until you have learned to control your gift. We simply can’t justify letting you out until then.” The chivalry has gone, leaving professionalism without room to suck up.

“Controlling the gift I’ve had since I was one?” I raise an eyebrow at them. How exactly do they think I managed not to get caught for all these years? How do they think my entire family is still free of them? Apparently, they don’t have that much confidence in themselves.

“How’s this for control then?” I lift up a lazy hand, wave my finger once and send all of them to the opposite end of the hallway.

“Not bad,” the gray-haired man says. “Not bad at all. We could teach you a lot here, you could be great.”

“Sorry. Not interested.” I walk back to the staircase. An earth-shattering pain shoots through my head as if it’s been turned into a cannonball and blasted at an armored tank. I sink to my knees, disoriented and nauseous.

“Thank you, Joseph,” a woman says. The same woman who asked ‘how good a feel’ he had gotten of me. “Joseph is here to ensure the safety of the students. He will keep you from using your gifts when you are not supposed to. Attend your classes, follow your studies, and he won’t bother you.”

“And if I don’t, you torture me because I practiced self-defense in public. I must say your logic is infallible.”

“Be that as it may, it is the way things are run around here,” the gray-haired man tells me. He has an agreeable smile, sort of understanding. Joseph seems slow as well, he doesn’t seem able to prevent anything, only to see it and punish people for it. I’ll get a layout of this place first, and then I’ll bust my way out of here somehow.

I hover back to the prison cell assigned to me. Not because I’m too lazy to walk, that has nothing to do with it, I just want to show them that I’m not afraid of using my abilities in front of their little weapon. Yes, rebellious, I know. There’s a reason the Langdale family survived and the others didn’t. If indeed they didn’t. I wonder if there are any of the old families left. I suppose everyone here is somehow related to them, but are there any families still together, who still keep the gifts pure and strong? That could be valuable information, I’ll see if I can figure that out too before I go.

I open the door to 951 with a wave of my hand and enter the small dorm room containing two beds, two wardrobes, two desks, a window, and a door to a bathroom.

“Who’s my roommate?” I ask. A roommate might help me get the layout faster.

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“You have the room to yourself for now,” the voice of the gray-haired man tells me. Hm, guess that isn’t the worst thing that could have happened. I smile to myself. It’s been a while since I had an actual room of my own - Marie and I have one divided by a sheet hanging from the ceiling. And I guess I can tolerate the decor for now. Or maybe I shouldn’t… Maybe I should embrace the whole school thing, act like I really do intend on staying here. I look around the room with the white walls, the wooden, well-worn furniture, and completely colorless surroundings. I would need some new bedsheets, no way I’m using those old, brown things. And some fabrics for curtains, maybe even some wall decorations… That would require a sewing machine too. And clothes, if I am to stay here for a while I’ll need clothes.

“Most people come here with suitcases and bags. I guess it’s a little bare.” I turn around and see a man, somewhere in his mid 40’s I’d guess, leaning casually against the doorframe. The others have apparently left while I was unfocused.

“Where’s the nearest shopping center?” He smiles as if I’m completely off base.

“You’re going to replace everything you had?”

“I’m going to make this place habitable,” I say. There’s something about the way he smiles, it’s as if he knows something.

“Nearest shopping center is a few hours that way.” He points in the direction of the front door.

“How few?”

“I’m honestly not sure, but I’d guess about five, as a minimum.”

“Five?”

“With proper transportation.”

“Without it?”

“You don’t stand a chance.”

“How long without proper transportation?”

“Depends how strong you are. Anywhere from 15 to never I guess.” He straightens up. “Come on, I’ll show you.” He turns around and indicates a door right beside mine marking the end of the hallway. I look back at the room, I could just stay here. On the other hand, he seems talkative, I might get something useful out of him. I follow him through the door into a room that contains nothing but a staircase and two windows. We go up.

“Joseph seems to think you’re pretty strong, considering your age.”

“And how old does Joseph think I am?”

“You forget Sasha was at all your birthday parties since you were 5.” And everything I ever told her they know now. I take a deep breath. As unsettling as that is, there might also be mind-readers around here somewhere, so I’d do better not to think about it.

“I have known Sasha pretty much my entire life, how has she had time to go here and go to school with me as well?”

“Sasha never went here,” he tells me. I turn and look back at him. “Her mother went here once, she works for the InT now, but Sasha never had any abilities.”

“That’s not true, I saw her make an ice rose.”

“You saw her hold out her hand and a rose appear, you never saw her make it.”

“Someone else made that rose.” I realize. “That still doesn’t explain why she would do that.”

“To earn herself a spot here.” He breaks eye contact, almost as if ashamed.“We only have room for about 1,500 students, so we don’t usually let people in who haven’t shown powers before, even if it runs in the family. There have been examples before though, of people learning to activate their gene. A really strong mind can teach him or herself to master multiple categories.” I have never heard of that. I know some people learn to master their ability in a way that enables them to go beyond what one would expect, but what he says sound like someone like me could learn to stop time or read minds. If that really was possible, the sergeant would have told us, taught us.

“What is the InT?”I ask instead, letting the idea rest.

“It stands for ‘Identification and Transportation’. They find people suited for this education, and they help them get to it. We’re going all the way up.” He points to yet another staircase. We’re on the 13th floor now, how far up does he want me to go? I suspect all the floors from here on up are the exact same.

“Am I about to the thrown off a roof or something?”

“You are about to see the most stunning view you have ever dreamed of. You might not believe it, but none of us here actually wish you harm.”

“Except Joseph,” I correct.

“Joseph likes order, that is different.”

“Not if you’re willing to hurt people to get it.”

“Joseph is an odd one, I’ll give you that. With time you might come to understand his reasons, I promise you he has them. Until then just avoid him, it’s a big place, he can’t be everywhere.”

“What about you then?”

“No, I can’t be everywhere either.”

“What is your gift.”

“I listen.”

“So you have super hearing.” Like Criss… I shouldn’t have thought that.

“You know someone with super hearing?” He asks.

“Yeah,” I admit. “Superman.” I think he has super hearing, doesn’t he? Or at least when it comes to his sweetheart he does.

“You don’t have to be afraid, they won’t find your family,” he assures me in a kind voice.

“And how do you know?”

“Well, for one they’ve given up looking.”

“The five-hour rule,” I remember.

“You know about that?”

“You know what it is?”

“The Langdale family has a way of knowing when one of their own is in contact with our officials, within five hours they are packed up and gone.”

“Never heard of such a thing.” He looks quizzically up at me.

“Honestly, I’ve never heard of that. What were you thinking, we had some sort of emergency response tactic, that we all rehearse packing up our entire lives in less than five hours?”

“You have never even heard of someone with the ability to sense where you all are or who’s with you?”

“No. I’d feel bad for the poor person.”

“There’s a lot of you, isn’t there?”

“More than descendants of Abraham,” I mock.

“Don’t blame me, it’s not often I get to talk to a Langdale, I’m curious.”

“Careful, curiosity killed the cat.”

“Good thing I’m not a cat,” he smiles. We reach the top of the stairs, but there is nothing there but a door. He opens it, and I feel a cold breeze greet us. We’re on the roof. “Go on out,” he tells me and points to the small door that marks the end of the staircase. I open the door and step out into the small balcony. Correction, we’re in one of the towers. The landscape spreads out before me like a Monet painting. Towards the stone path that lead us to the school, the ocean rises up like a majestic kingdom ready to crush us all if it wanted to. When I turn my head, tall, ancient-looking trees tower up like an army standing guard. To the other side, cliffs rise up like a natural fortress, allowing in only what they deem worthy. A small bay winds it’s ways through them. Even stone can’t keep water under control.

“There are a lot of different talents here, some of them include control of the elements. If you look to your left you’ll see the rainy patch.” I turn slightly away from the cliffs and see a spot where they fade into a plain and heavy rain is falling.

“To make the British feel comfortable too,” he says with a smile.

“The British?”

“We have a few from pretty much every English-speaking nation here. Since travel is fairly easy it seemed more appropriate to separate based on language. There are three English speaking schools in all, and then a few, like in Europe, where they speak English even though it’s not their first language.” There are more schools like this. By the size of this one compared to the size of the world, it’d seem like there’s a lot of people like us. With the English speaking ones and the one in Europe, assuming an average of 1,500 students per school, that’d be 6,000 children still in school.

“The water from there is transported underground to everywhere else, that way you’ll never see a rainy day unless you want to. Or well, you might, your room has a partial view of the British patch.”

“That is incredibly stupid,” I can’t help commenting.

“I actually agree,” he laughs. “But it’s been like that for ages, long before I came here. Try looking out there, all the way out.” He points towards the horizon at the opposite end of the front doors. It’s barely visible unless you really try to look for it, but the sea is there too.

“And over there.” He points to my right. I follow around on my own, looking for where it ends.

“An island,” I say. “We’re on an island.” So proper transportation would be a boat.

“I don’t know exactly how strong you are, but I’m guessing flying for hours on end with nothing but waves beneath you and no way of knowing which way you are going, would be a challenge - even for a Langdale,” he tells me. “And then there’s the barrier too, of course, you are welcome to try, but I haven’t seen many people who can get through that without permission.” Which I definitively won’t get. “I suggest you make yourself comfortable, you might be here a while. You can go to the post office and send someone for your things, the Langdales usually leave those behind.” And give them my home address, no way. Except, if what he said is correct about my family being gone, they will have already been by the house to check. He knew about the protections put up, so he’s either smart enough to figure out the Langdales would have those, or he’s telling the truth.

“What kind of protections were at the house?”

“None, when the InT arrived. Usually, Langdale homes are cloaked so our Sensers can’t find them. Family members too.”

“Then how did you find me?”

“I thought you knew that. Your friend Sasha gave you up.”

“Yeah, I know that much, but how did she suspect I was a Langdale?”

“She didn’t, her mother did. She works for the InT like I mentioned. She’s been on your trail for years, waiting for you to slip up. Apparently, she had a meeting with a Senser at her home at the same time you had a play date with Sasha, and the Senser couldn’t sense anything about you, not the presence of gifts or the absence of them. Only cloaking could do that, and only Langdales have access to cloaking outside of the school or the InT.”

“Years?” I ask. “Then why the car accident now? Why wait so long, I’d only get stronger and more in control with the years.”

“They didn’t just want you.”

“They wanted my family.” A Langdale in her natural habitat, follow her and she might lead you to her flock. “Sasha has known about my family for ages, there was nothing new there she could find out, why wait?”

“Well, the official reason is somewhat complicated, something about risk assessments, but there’s an election coming up within the InT, and Sasha’s mother has her eyes on a leadership position, catching an entire household of Langdales would have really put her on the map, given her a fighting chance.” So she decided to rip apart my family so she could get a promotion. I always knew she was a career woman, it was always Sasha’s dad who made us snacks when we were kids, but I never knew her mother was heartless.

“So what’s the verdict?” He asks. “Did I pass your test, am I trustworthy?” There’s a laugh playing on his face.

“How long will it take? To get my things here.” If I decide it’s safe. The none-suit guy, Joseph, also said the window had closed, that they didn’t get there in time. It seems as if they really are gone.

“It should be here by morning if you put a rush on it.”

“Rush. Sounds expensive. I don’t have my wallet with me here, someone took it when they arrested me.”

“They didn’t arrest you,” he says and hands me my wallet. “They didn’t get past the protective barriers within the five-hour limit,” he assures me again. “And there was nothing left for them to find at your house, they’ve already searched it. There’s no danger in sending for you things.”