CHAPTER THREE: NEW TO THE NEIGHBORHOOD

Bayville, Westchester, New York, September 10, 2006

In the Westchester town of Bayville, just outside New York City, as night fell over Bayville University, a young man of 19 began walking out of one of the buildings on campus, his Journalism lecture finished for the night. He was tall, and lean, with short, black hair, parted in the middle, blue eyes framed by glasses, and light skin, wearing a white long-sleeved shirt under a grey vest, with light brown khaki pants, his knapsack over his shoulder, a large, black watch on his wrist. The young man managed to nervously get on the bus, as it headed out of the campus, heading to the outskirts of town.

The bus dropped the young man at a street-corner, where he began nervously walking down the road, towards the Xavier Institute. As he reached the gates of the Institute, he cautiously looked around, making sure the coast was clear...

...and then effortlessly hopped right over the gates, landing perfectly on the other side.

Clark smiled as he walked across the grounds, dropping the awkwardness in his walk, and twisting his watch, shutting off the image-inducer that hid his true frame, revealing his powerful build. He then casually removed his glasses, tucking them away, before ruffling his hair, returning his hair to normal, losing the parting.

Professor Xavier’s image-inducer was a complete success; no-one at the University had even suspected that anything lay beneath the clumsy, bumbling Clark Kent that he showed to them.

As he walked through the main doors, into the impressive main hall of the mansion, he was greeted by Logan, who was just heading out the door, in his navy t-shirt, blue jeans, brown leather jacket, and cowboy hat. “Hey, Flyboy,” he said, “Chuck wants to see ya.”

“Anything wrong?” Clark asked.

“Beats me.”

“You going anywhere?”

“Just gonna take a little joy-ride.” Logan answered, half-smiling. “Not all of us can move at Mach 5, ya know. Later.” Then, he headed out, as Clark continued to the Professor’s office.

Professor Xavier was sitting in his desk as Clark came in. “Ah, Clark,” he greeted, “how was class?”

“Fine.” Clark said. “The inducer works; everyone who saw me thought I was just some clumsy country boy from Kansas.”

“Excellent.” the Professor said, smiling. “That inducer will be essential for our new student.”

“He’s coming tomorrow?”

“Tonight.” Xavier corrected. “We – Scott, Jean, and I – plan to meet him in an hour.”

“And I guess I’ll sit this one out.” Clark said.

“We plan to explain your...situation to him if he accepts enrollment.” Xavier replied. “Also, there is another matter we must discuss.”

“What?” Clark inquired.

The Professor simply took out a newspaper, and unfolded it, holding it up for him to see. The headline was clear: “Flying Man Prevents Nuclear Disaster.”

Clark inwardly groaned. He’d hoped that this little incident he’d taken care of in South Korea would go mostly unnoticed. But, judging from the blurry photograph an amateur had taken, that clearly wasn’t the case.

“Clark,” the Professor said, “what would you call this?”

Clark tried his most sheepish grin. “Uh...damn good journalism?”

Xavier sighed. “Clark...”

Clark sighed. “Okay, okay,” he said, “I admit it; I was seen. But I had no choice! That nuclear reactor was seconds from meltdown, with enough uranium fuel to make Chernobyl look like a firecracker! I tried to use my gale-breath to safely clear the area of civilians, but I didn’t have time to be thorough! Any later and it would’ve blown!”

Xavier sighed, relenting. “You’re right, Clark. It’s just that, in the few months you’ve been here, you’ve been partially seen three times. And, I admit, all of those times were incidents in which you had no choice, but that doesn’t make it easier.”

Clark relaxed. “I know. I’m sorry.” he said. “If there was any other way, I would have taken it.”

“I know.” Xavier said, smiling. His smile growing, he pointed to a paragraph in the article.

Clark took a closer look...and almost did a double-take. “‘Superman’??” he exclaimed. “They’re calling me Superman??”

“Apparently, in an earlier partial-photo, the photographer caught your uniform’s crest.” Xavier said. “They’ve been referring to you as ‘Superman’ for the past few weeks.”

Clark groaned. “Terrific.” he sighed. “And the sad thing is, I can’t think of a better name for myself.”

“Well, I think it’s a good name.” Xavier said. “You, Clark, have the power to do anything – absolutely anything – and you choose to do the right thing. That, Clark, makes you a Super man. I think the name suits you.”

Clark smiled. He hadn’t thought of that. “Well, names tend to stick.” he agreed. “So, ‘Superman’ it is.”

“Good.” Xavier said. “Now, I trust you will try to avoid being seen in your future endeavors?”

“You got it.” Clark promised.

“Good.” Charles said. “That will be all.” At that, Clark got up, and left the office.

As he left, Clark saw Scott and Jean heading towards the office. “Hey, ‘Superman,’” Scott chuckled, “fix any reactors lately?”

Clark laughed. “Does everyone know about that?”

“It’s in all the newspapers.” Jean said, smiling. “Everyone is talking about you!”

“But how could you have actually stood in the reactor core?” Scott asked. “That has to be radiation central!”

“I guess my Kryptonian physiology absorbs radiation the same way it absorbs solar power.” Clark reasoned. “There wasn’t any choice; the controls in the control room were damaged beyond repair, so I had to fly into the core and insert the control rods manually. After that, I gave the place a once-over coat of graphite from the nearby mine.” He sighed. “I just wish I’d have made sure the place was evacuated; someone photographed me...again.”

“Ouch.” Scott said.

“I know.” Clark agreed. “But, how come you guys are back so early? Wasn’t there a football game you were going to?”

Scott sighed. “There was an...incident.” he admitted. “During the game, one student – Todd Tolansky – decided to make a few extra bucks by picking a few pockets, and...Duncan and his pals saw him.”

Clark nodded; Duncan Matthews, Jean’s boyfriend and the current Big Man on Campus at Bayville High, despite only being a sophomore, like Scott and Jean. “Scott’s glasses got knocked off.” Jean finished. “Duncan just has a concussion; he’ll be fine.”

“Yeah.” Scott said, nervously scratching his head. “I just wish I could control these force-blasts without needing my shades. I’m packing a bazooka behind each eyeball, here!”

“I know what you mean.” Clark replied. “I was about 13 when my eye-beams first became active; I nearly fried our entire field before I figured out how to stop them. I feel your pain.” He was about to continue...when his hearing picked up something. He froze, focusing on it...

An alarm; specifically, a fire-alarm at the hydroelectric dam at Alkali Lake. There was a short-out at the main control console; it had sparked an electrical fire...and worse, it was causing an overload. If it wasn’t shut down soon, the whole dam could explode and flood the nearby town.

Scott and Jean noticed his expression. “Trouble?” Jean asked.

Instantly, Clark bolted off, dashing down the hallway, changing as he went; he tossed off his sneakers, pants, sweater, and shirt, revealing his uniform underneath it all – he’d figured that this was quicker than a duffel bag. Reaching into his knapsack and putting on his boots, he tossed the backpack aside, and ran at full speed, his change completed in all of three seconds. In a blue-and-crimson blur, Clark – now “Superman” – bolted towards an open window and leapt out, flying towards Alkali Lake at top speeds, a sonic boom echoing in his wake.

As their friend flew off – literally – Scott and Jean could only watch. Jean shook her head in amazement. “Well, that’s going to be hard to explain to this new guy when he gets here.”

Scott nodded. “I hope he’s not afraid of aliens.” he added. “What was his name, again?”

“Kurt Wagner.” Miss Munroe said, as she walked up to them, smiling. “He’s a teleporter, and his mutation is a bit more...evident than most.” Chuckling, she added, “Was that Clark I heard, flying off?”

Scott grinned. “You know him; out doing his hero thing.”

Ororo smiled. “Well, he’s not the only one who has to get moving; we have to go greet our new arrival.” she said. Nodding, Scott and Jean followed Ororo, to meet up with Professor Xavier before they headed off to pick up their new potential student.

In a matter of minutes, Superman – as he had started to think of himself – was over Alkali Lake, high enough to let the sonic boom pass mostly unnoticed. With his X-Ray vision – his eyes glowing electric blue as he used it – he looked within the power plant, automatically focusing on the fire...and the workers it had trapped.

Instantly, he descended, landing on the roof, next to a skylight. Opening it, he peered in, aimed, took a deep breath, and blew; his gale-force breath, with a touch of his freezing breath, easily put the fire out. The workers, though confused, took advantage of his effort; they raced out the doors as fast as they could.

The area cleared, Superman leapt down onto the metal-grated walkway, staying at the top level, and ran towards the control room. He was almost there...

“Please! Somebody help me!! I don’t wanna die!!”

Superman froze at the sound of that helpless voice, looking around...and spying a hysterical engineer, clinging to a section of grating that was giving way...threatening to drop him into the whirring turbines below.

Taking aim, Superman looked at the part of the railing that was giving way; his eyes glowed red as he fired a narrow, surgically-precise heat beam at the railing, welding it solid, and stabilizing the walkway. At once, the engineer ran across the grating, and out the door. Superman took a few seconds to look around with his X-Ray vision, listening for heart-beats, making sure the plant was completely evacuated, before he continued on.

In seconds, Superman was at the door; effortlessly, he ripped the steel door off its hinges, as if it were made of paper...and found the doorway blocked by debris. His eyes blazed red as he fired a stronger heat beam, blasting the debris away, clearing his path. He darted into the control room, found the main console, and began inputting the commands to shut down the plant.

The console wasn’t responding. It was dead.

With his X-Ray vision, Superman scanned the console...and found the problem: one of the circuits had been melted, from too much current, preventing power from flowing to the console. Quickly, Superman broke off a tiny piece of metal grating, and rolled it with his hands until it was wire-thin. Placing it in the gap in the circuit, he fired a micro-scalpel-sized heat beam, welding it into place.

Like magic, the console lit up, and Superman resumed entering the commands, and then pressed “Enter.”

The whirring turbines instantly stopped, ending energy production; there was enough built up for technicians to come and properly repair the plant without the town losing power for even a second. His task complete, Superman darted out of the control room, and flew back out through the skylight.

In the air once more, Superman pondered the cause of that overload. ‘Power plants like that have fail-safe measures to prevent those kinds of current surges.’ he thought. ‘That accident shouldn’t have happened...or was it an accident?’

With his vision, he scanned the surrounding area; there was a residual electromagnetic field near the power plant...which could have caused the surge. Superman began to follow this residual field, following it to a hill overlooking the plant, where it stopped...

Superman froze, as he thought he saw someone standing on the hill...but then the person – if they had been standing there – was gone.

With nothing more to do here, Superman turned, and began to fly back towards the Institute, going a bit slower, listening for any more threats or disasters. He figured that the new student must have reached the Institute, by now.

He wondered how things were going.

From his vantage point on the hill, hidden in the brush from that mighty youth’s – that “Superman’s” – prying eyes, the figure that Superman had seen there saw it all.

He stepped out, his dark red-and-black cape lightly billowing in the breeze, matching his dark red armor, and his thick, PSI-shielded helmet.

He’d heard of this “Superman,” this individual who used his great power to help humanity.

‘Another misguided idealist, just like poor Charles.’ he silently lamented; his dear old friend was blinded by false hope, by his admittedly beautiful – if naive – dreams.

And clearly, this young man was, as well, for he sought to aid Homo sapiens, when their time on this world was ending.

Even so, the power of this Superman amazed him. He’d long studied the X-Gene; he knew what it was capable of.

‘No mutant I know of has that kind of power.’ he thought.

He smiled wryly to himself. If this individual – this Superman – could be persuaded to the cause of Homo superior...

“This is an interesting development, indeed.” Erik Magnus Lensherr mused to himself...before he readjusted his own magnetic field to directly oppose that of the Earth, repelling himself into the air, before he adjusted it to an equilibrium, gliding away.

Kurt Johann Wagner was determined to prove himself.

Kurt, a young German-born man of 15, was a mutant...and a pretty obvious case at that. He was of average height, and of lean, acrobatic frame...and he was blue; blue fur covered his entire body, his mid-length hair a dark blue-black, his eyes a glowing yellow. He had pointed, elfin ears, and tridactyl hands, with three fingers, and three-toed feet, with a long, blue, prehensile tail extending from his tail-bone. He now wore a black bodysuit, with a red vest over it. The upside of his mutation was that he could teleport; he needed only to think of a place, look to it, and he was there, vanishing with a loud bamf! and a cloud of brimstone.

He was thrilled with this Xavier Institute, the idea of being accepted for his true appearance by someone other than his parents, and he was determined to prove himself to his new peers...prompting him to try and repel this intruder.

“What are you, some kinda Smurf?!”

Kurt chuckled as he hung upside-down by his tail from the chandelier, as his opponent lay below. The intruder – Toad, as he called himself – was crouched on his hind legs, just like a frog, and could jump just as well as one. Toad was about his own age, a gangly youth with pale skin, short, messy sandy-blond hair, and green eyes with a kind of murky film over them. He wore a green bodysuit with cream-colored armor over it, slightly hunched on its back. Kurt had seen him spit slime, as well as use a long, prehensile tongue, which had little use other than catching flies.

“As you Americans vould say, ‘neener, neener, neener’!” Kurt taunted. Angered, Toad fired a slime-ball at Kurt.

Bamf!!

Kurt vanished and reappeared at the top of the main staircase, taking a theatrical bow as he landed gracefully. Incensed further, Toad hopped after him, firing slime-blasts, as Kurt hopped from wall-to-wall, teleporting as he needed to, laughing all the way.

Unfortunately, Kurt miscalculated his last leap before his next ‘port, enabling Toad to tackle him, and causing Kurt to ‘port them both.

Kurt’s ‘port deposited them in a vast, silvery metal chamber. ‘Vat..? Zhis isn’t vere I vanted to go!’ Kurt thought.

“What the...what kinda nuthouse are you X-Geeks running?!” Toad cried.

“Danger Room activated. Level 10 program initiated. Safeties disengaged.”

‘Oh, Gott in Himmel, I don’t like zhe sound of zat...’ Kurt thought. He turned...and just managed to leap out of the way of a robotic buzz-saw. As he landed, he instantly had to ‘port away to evade the shots of numerous laser-cannons.

As he came out of the ‘port, he saw Toad trapped by a wall closing in on him. “Hang on!!” Kurt shouted, as he ‘ported in, grabbed Toad, and ‘ported out.

“Professor, shut down the Danger Room!!”

Kurt was relieved immensely as he saw Scott and Jean race into this death-trap. Scott blasted the buzz-saw that was closing on Kurt with his deadly eye-blasts, while Jean gestured to a laser-drone, lifting it up and smashing it into several others. Soon, more traps became active...and then instantly stopped. “Simulation deactivated. Thank you, and have a nice day.”

“Oh, man...” Toad whimpered, “...this ain’t worth it. I’m outta here!” At that, he hopped towards the open exit, hopping away at top speed.

Scott sighed. “I wish we could’ve recruited him, too.”

‘I blew it.’ Kurt thought dejectedly. He looked away, and ‘ported out.

Todd hopped away as fast as he could; that Xavier Institute was a nightmare. He was so busy hopping, he didn’t watch where he was going...and nearly ran into another of those X-Geeks; this guy was done up in some red and blue suit, with a cape and everything...and he could fly – he was just touching down when Todd hopped into his line of sight. “AAAAAHHHHH!!!” Todd screamed – his scream was kinda girlish, he admitted, but it was reflex. “S-Stay away from me!!”

“Just take it easy.” the guy said calmly. “Are you the new student?”

“Not on your life!!” Todd declared. “I ain’t goin’ back to that nuthouse, yo!” With that, he just kept hopping until he was off the Institute grounds...

...and bumped into another shmuck. ‘I have got to watch where I hop.’ Todd thought, as he looked up at... “Principal Darkholme?”

Principal Darkholme, a tall, elegantly built lady in her thirties, Todd guessed, stood over him, her chestnut hair tied in a conservative bun, her dark eyes narrowed, framed by glasses on her cream-colored nose, wearing her usual mid-length skirt and blazer jacket.

The Principal just smirked...and began to change: her clothes became a long, bone-white dress with a belt of bronze skulls around her waist; her mid-length hair went blood-red; her eyes went a creepy yellow; and her skin went blue.

“W-W-What the heck are you?!” Todd cried.

The blue lady smiled slyly. “Someone like you, Mr. Tolansky.” she hissed. “Someone with gifts that others don’t understand, and that has little time for Xavier’s idealism.” She held out a hand to him. “Come with me, Toad, and I, and others, will show you the way to power.”

‘Now that’s more like it!’ Todd – now Toad – thought happily. He took her hand. “You got yourself a customer, Mrs...uh...Principal...um...what do I call you?”

The blue lady smiled. “Call me...Mystique.”

As Superman calmly walked into the Institute’s main hall, he looked around; it looked like that the hall had been a battlefield. Seeing Scott and Jean, in their uniforms, he suddenly wondered if that had been the case. Smiling, he joked, “I step out for a few minutes, and the whole place goes nuts!”

His friends smiled. “Our first recruitment.” Scott explained. “We’ve got one mutant AWOL, and one who’s never going to set foot in here again.”

“I found him.” Jean said. “He’s in the Blackbird’s hangar bay.”

“Maybe I should talk to him.” Superman said. “One new guy to another.”

“Sure.” Scott agreed. Superman then headed towards the elevator to the underground levels, stopping by to pick up his street clothes at his room.

After changing into jeans and a black t-shirt, his uniform underneath, and his boots still on, Clark headed to the hangar bay, and found the blue-furred, elfin youth sitting on the Blackbird’s bow – Kurt.

Hearing him approach, Kurt looked over his shoulder. “I’m sorry if I frighten you.” he said sadly, with a slight German accent.

Clark smiled. “What’s to be sorry about? Blue is definitely your color!”

Kurt’s face brightened. “Really?” he asked.

“I never lie.” Clark said, hopping up onto the bow and sitting down next to him. “So...I bet that was a heck of a first day!”

“Ja.” Kurt replied sadly. “I blew it, didn’t I?”

“Nah. Everybody makes mistakes.” Clark said.

“I bet Superman vouldn’t make zhis mistake.” Kurt said. “I’ll never be like him.”

Clark had to fight to keep the smile off his face. “Kurt, I can tell you that Superman makes mistakes as much as you or I.”

“Ja, right.” Kurt said with depressed sarcasm. “He catches airplanes! He defuses nuclear reactors! Und zat’s just zhe stuff ve hear about!”

Clark chuckled. “Kurt, if Superman could help it, you wouldn’t hear about anything he does.” he replied.

“Vhy?” Kurt asked. “Zhe dude’s a hero!”

“Because if he goes around flaunting his powers, people are going to start asking questions, plus, showing off isn’t what matters to him.” Clark answered.

Kurt looked at Clark curiously. “How do you know?” he inquired. Clark just grinned, hopped down, walked over to the front landing gear, grasped it with one hand, and lifted it up. Kurt yelped in fright as the plane tipped, causing him to fall off, landing on his feet...and froze as he saw Clark lifting the plane so easily. As Clark put it down, he saw Kurt look at his red boots, and start to make the connection. Chuckling, Clark just partially lifted up his t-shirt, revealing the crest of the House of El, before lowering it again.

Kurt was silent for a full minute. “No VAY!!!” He finally exclaimed.

“Way.” Clark said. “Sorry about the plane-lifting; I didn’t think you’d believe me, otherwise.”

“I don’t believe it!” Kurt exclaimed. “I am talking to Superman!!”

“Like I said, Kurt: everyone makes mistakes – Lord knows I’ve made my share.” Clark said. “And by the way, my friends call me Clark.”

“So, Super..uh...Clark,” Kurt began, “how did you get here?”

Laughing, Clark began to walk out of the hangar, with Kurt following. “Kurt, my friend, that is a long story...”

By the time the Professor, Ororo, and Logan had entered the main hall where Scott and Jean were, Clark and Kurt had just walked in. “...so you’re zhe last survivor of zhe planet...vat vas it, again?”

“Krypton.”

“Oh, right!” Kurt said. “Zat is so cool!”

“Hey, we’re glad you stuck around!” Scott greeted.

“Well, Kurt, I trust your first day was an eventful one?” the Professor asked.

“Jawohl!” Kurt agreed.

“Good,” the Professor said, “because we have one more surprise.” With that, he rolled his wheelchair over, affixed a black watch to Kurt’s wrist, and lightly tapped it.

Almost instantly, Kurt’s fuzzy blue image vanished, and was replaced by a normal-looking 15-year-old Caucasian male, clad in a beige sweater and khaki pants, with dark blue eyes and blue-black hair.

“I’m...normal!!” Kurt exclaimed.

“With this image-inducer, you can attend high school without arousing suspicion.” Xavier said.

Clark nodded. “I tested it myself, Kurt.” he added, pointing to a similar watch he wore. “It lets me move around, so no-one figures out that clumsy, nervous Clark Kent is really...” He stopped, listening. “Uh-oh.”

“‘Uh-oh’?” Kurt repeated.

“France. Train bridge out. Train carrying toxic waste. Radio’s down.” Clark said.

Ororo softly chuckled. “Looks like another job for Superman.”

In less than a second, Clark darted off at inhuman speed, shedding his street clothes, revealing his uniform. In less than two seconds, he was airborne, flying off, a sonic boom echoing behind him.

As Superman flew off, Kurt looked like he was suddenly struck with a thought. “Hey...do you suppose zhere’s a job in zhe hero business for...Zhe Incredible Nightcrawler?”

Scott laughed. “One thing at a time, Kurt. One thing at a time.”

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