How to Climb Trees
Posted on Wed Jun 30th, 2021 @ 4:15pm by Iris Walker & Charles Xavier & Connor Bruin
3,483 words; about a 17 minute read
Mission:
Episode 1: X-Odus
Location: Mutant Research Center | Muir Island
Timeline: June 22, 1990
In the few weeks that Iris had spent at the X-Mansion, she had managed to get several hours in the flight simulator. Customarily a pilot in training would require 14 hours before being allowed up in the air. Iris had logged almost an entire day's worth. With Cyclops still resting up in bed, Xavier decided it was as good of a chance as any to get another person flight-rated.
Xavier had awakened Iris at dawn with a telepathic invitation to the hangar. He'd shown her the Blackbird, explained its function, and invited her aboard. After the tour of the interior, he invited her to sit down at the co-pilot's seat. Her response had been... memorable, to say the least.
Two hours later, they had completed their ascent, avoided the troublesome Atlantic jet stream that hugged New England, and finally made it to clear skies. The Blackbird glided along at ease from a high atmosphere cruising altitude breaking the speed of sound.
"You can relax now, Iris." The professor kept humor away from his voice, careful not to make light of the situation. Whatever Iris was feeling, she was performing an act that few people ever achieved. "The autopilot can take it from here."
Nerves and giddy excitement had filled Iris since she had first gotten the telepathic call. She still had not told her parents exactly what she was doing, only that she had found another work study program, this one with room and board included. How to explain that she was at a school for Mutants- and non-mutants, too, technically- learning how to fly a private jet was simply beyond her at the moment. No matter, she would come up with something.
She grinned as the autopilot took over. “That was great,” she declared happily. “It’s actually easier than the simulator.”
"That's because the simulator is not computer-assisted," Charles said. "It trains you at full difficulty in the event the flight computer malfunctions. Truthfully, the Blackbird can nearly fly itself." He smiled and projected a telepathic burst of pride. "But you are doing well nonetheless."
"In other words, I'm not off the hook as far as the simulator is concerned," she replied with a grin.
As the X-Jet flew along at hypersonic speeds, Xavier asked, "Have you heard of the Mutant Research Center before?"
Her brow wrinkled. "I don't think so," she said. "But, something tells me it's not as benign as the name suggests."
"On the contrary, it is a benevolent facility which researches the cause and origin of the X Gene," the professor explained. "And, as a principal donor, I have the key to the facility. There is a longtime resident there whom I need your assistance in recruiting to our cause."
Iris’s eyebrows shot up. “Hm,” she said thoughtfully. “Usually places with names like that are after a way to destroy us. Never mind, though; I’m in. What do you need me to do?”
"Your observation is an astute one," Charles conceded. "And that is why I needed the assistance of someone younger than myself. There is a mutant resident of the island with whom I've been in contact for several years. He is a... unique individual... and having him relocate to the Mansion will take some doing." He smiled fondly as he looked back on his first encounter with Connor. "It will take a winsome personality to win his final vote of confidence, and I foresee that person to be you."
“Thank you for your vote of confidence, sir,” replied Iris with a grin. “I’ll do my best. But… how exactly am I going to win him over?”
"Honesty," Xavier said. "Your guile-free honesty. Connor is of a class of person that can detect insincerity almost like a telepath, which is unfortunate because he is the sort to be underestimated and therefore misunderstood." Sighing in anticipation of a potential struggle, Xavier ended with, "Once you meet him, you may understand better."
“Yes, sir,” replied Iris, already making sure the parking breaks were on and the ignition switch was off, then turning it to idle to check the gauges. “I’ll do my best.”
Soon enough the Blackbird touched down on its familiar landing pad on Muir Island beside the Mutant Research Center. There was a lone figure standing beside a pile of luggage. A woman, middle-aged, waving at the Blackbird.
"It's Moira," said Charles as the engines began to wind down. "There's trouble..."
Unstrapping himself from the co-pilot's seat, Charles said, "Stay here and do the post-flight checks." He hoisted himself into his nearby wheelchair that had been attached to the fuselage behind him. Before exiting, he looked back at Iris. "You did very well."
Once Xavier left the cockpit, she got to work on the rest of the checklist. First was to log the flight time. Easy enough. That done, she turned her attention to the outside of the aircraft. There was no need to tie it down as they weren’t staying long, so instead, she put blocks under the wheels to prevent them from moving. May as well check the air pressure while she was at it.
That done, she proceeded to wipe down the edges of the wings- with the help of a rolling ladder found nearby- and clean the windshield. Fuel would be topped off during preflight, as would the fluids be checked. Returning to the cockpit, she double checked that the ignition was off and the key in her hand before locking it and exiting the plane.
Outside, Charles descended from the ramp and hurried to Moira.
"Oh, Charles! Thank heaven's ye'r 'ere!" Moira put her hands to her face for a moment before telling him what was the matter. "Connor was all prepped and ready t'go until something went and spooked the lad. Now he's up in his tree and I cannae get him to come down."
Nodding, Charles lowered his head and reached out with his mind.
~Connor~
The connection was rather immediate. Xavier could sense Connor's mind, perched safely from his oaken stronghold near the ocean's overlook.
~I cannot do it~ Connor thought back. ~I know we've talked about it. I can't leave. It...~
Xavier's heart was pierced by a touch of the anxiety Connor was feeling. It was enough that it made the professor want to get up from his chair and run until his lungs gave out.
~It is not leaving so much as a new homecoming~ Xavier said.
~I know that!~ Connor retorted, his anger striking at Xavier's mind like tongues of fire. ~We have gone over it again and again. We will fly for 7 hours over the ocean. We will land in the mouth of a cave and exit into a subterranean hangar. We will enter a subbasement where I am free to spend as much time acclimating before going back outside. We will tour the grounds as long as I wish. I am sorry to waste your time, Professor, but I just can't do it~
Charles opened his eyes and looked up at Moira. "Our young friend is indeed troubled," he said.
"What are you going to do?" Moira asked. "Anxious as he is, Connor has been excited about the trip. I dinnae know if staying will make him feel any better."
At the moment, Iris descended from the Blackbird's ramp. Moira could not see her, naturally, but Xavier had become attuned to her psychic signature. A smile crossed over the professor's face.
"If you cannot bring Mohammed to the mountain," he said, "then bring the mountain to Mohammed."
~Iris, proceed to the lone oak tree near the cliff's edge~ Xavier said to her mind. ~Connor is there. When you get close, do whatever comes natural~
Being unseen was a great advantage in this case. Iris managed to find the tree and locate the young man in it without him being any the wiser. She thought about climbing the tree, but this wasn’t an easy task given her height. The lowest branch was just out of her reach if she jumped as hard as she could. It took her some time to find a fallen branch big enough to support her weight and thick enough to make up the missing inches. Rolling it into place was also difficult as it was too heavy for her to lift, but she managed it with a bit of effort.
She made altogether too much noise in climbing said tree, so she wouldn’t have been surprised if Connor had heard her coming, but she announced herself from several limbs down anyway, just in case she had managed to escape his notice. “Hi!” she called, still climbing. “I’m Iris. I’m with the Professor.”
Connor's head jerked to and fro in search of the voice that had spoken. It hadn't been the professor. Too distinctly feminine to be the professor's. Besides, it had been audible, not in his head. The tree had jostled and cracked, which was not uncommon when he was perched in it as he was. Its branches protested his load quite regularly these days. After pulling out a device from beneath his sweatshirt, Connor began pressing buttons.
"WHO. IS. THERE?" the device said. "WHY. CAN. I. NOT. SEE. YOU?"
The voice sounded odd, but Iris only paused for a moment. "Sorry!" she replied. "Hang on, I spoke too soon. Give me a minute." She made her way around the tree and up a couple of more branches so she was in his line of sight. "Hi," she said again. "Sorry, it's my power, see? I'm invisible unless I call attention to myself. Well, not really invisible, per se. Just... it's like your eyes refuse to acknowledge me. Or something like that."
Connor did not look at her directly until she had stopped speaking. When she finished, his eyes took her in with an acute intensity before he pressed a different button on his device and began typing furiously. After a moment, it spoke out in a more fluid diction that was only mildly robotic.
"Unconscious disruption to the prefrontal association cortex can dysregulate sensory processing."
Putting the device back into standard mode, Connor made it say,
"DO. NOT. DISRUPT. MY. BRAIN."
"Sorry," Iris said again. "I haven't exactly got control of it. I'll try to make sure you always see me, though. I promise. Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye."
Connor squinted and reached out and touched Iris by the cheek, rubbing his fingers from jaw to temple as if testing the feel of her face.
For some reason, this seemed to amuse Iris and she grinned. "What's that for?" she asked.
"The Heathen traditions of the Irish and Norsemen suggest that seers and druids stuck hot irons into their eyes in pursuit of supernatural sight or prophecy," Connor said through his talker. After a few more button presses, it concluded: "You do not look Irish or Scandinavian, so I wanted to check your skin. It feels like mine."
This only seemed to delight her more and she giggled. "Just a normal human being," she agreed. "It's just an expression. I don't know where it came from, but it just means that I'd rather poke my eyes out than break my promise."
Connor seemed to ponder this, then abruptly asked via his device, "WHY. CAN. YOU. NOT. CONTROL. YOUR. POWER?"
“Because I haven’t learned, yet,” replied Iris. “But Professor Xavier is helping me. I’ll be able to control it, soon. I’m getting better every day.”
Setting the device back to manual typing mode, Connor took a moment to make it say, "My powers are passive, so control of them is not an issue. I have been learning to control my body. Whenever people see me, they laugh and think I am stupid. I wish I could be invisible like you."
“I guess I’ve been invisible for so long, I’d rather be laughed at,” admitted Iris sadly. “The grass is always greener on the other side, huh?”
Connor shifted the device back to auto-mode. "WILL. YOU. BE. AT. THE. MANSION. TOO?"
“Yep!” answered Iris happily. “I’m learning how to fly the jet. In fact, I flew us here!”
At that, Connor let his talking device dangle around his neck as he pressed his pointer fingers against the edges of his eyes as if intensely focusing. This Iris was sneaky. She got the drop on him even though Connor was often hypervigilant. He had been overwhelmed, so maybe that was something. Even so, she struggled to control a power that hid her from the world. Connor often felt hidden behind his disability. Then there was her skin, her smile, her eyes. Everything about her was beautiful. And she even flew the jet he'd see fly overhead and land nearby? Maybe if he went with them, he could learn to fly a jet.
"LOOK. WHAT. I. CAN. DO."
Connor stowed the strap for his device beneath his sweatshirt before flipping off the branch 15 feet (3m) above the ground. He landed into a crouch from which he sprung into another flip, two somersaults, and a one-handed roundoff. Rather than stick a landing, he rolled down to one shoulder and back up the other into a handstand. Walking back toward the tree upside down, he lowered himself on bent arms and launched himself from the handspring up into the air where he wrapped his feet around the lowest branch. Swinging himself upward, he returned to the same branch that had been his favorite perch for several years.
Unfortunately, Iris was nowhere to be seen. Scrambling to retrieve his device from beneath his sweatshirt, Connor keyed in the preprogrammed question: "WHERE. ARE. YOU?"
“I’m still here!” she replied from the perch she had not left. “Sorry! I forgot that if you stop looking at me, I disappear again. But that was awesome! I should have learned gymnastics. I can do a cartwheel, but that’s about it. Being tiny means I’m not very athletic.”
Blinking as Iris suddenly came into view again, Connor pressed against his eyes and intently stared at Iris. "He-here," he said verbally without his device.
She didn’t know him well, but he had always used the device and his voice was hesitant. This told her that speaking was rare for him. She didn’t know whether or not to make a big deal about it, and ultimately decided on simply giving him a winning smile and repeating, “yes. Here. Right here.”
It was a mystery that Connor would ponder long into many nights. "DO. YOU. LIVE. AT. THE. MANSION?"
"I sure do," answered Iris. "I haven't been there long, but I love it. It's so peaceful. He's got a giant fountain in front that goes off from time to time. It's really cool. And the library! Wow, you should see the library! It's awesome. Do you like to read?"
"I. SPEAK. THROUGH. A. SPEECH. DEVICE. WHAT. DO. YOU. THINK?" Connor stared at her with clear incredulity. If he didn't like to read, then he would be a blooming idiot. "WE. COULD. READ. TOGETHER. SOMETIME."
"I've never had a reading buddy before," Iris replied. "I think I'd like that. But, that means you would have to come to the mansion with me."
Connor grinned wide and started laughing. It wasn't a chuckle or a giddy laugh, but an almost maniacal bellowing that once started was hard to stop.
"PROFESSOR. WAS. SMART."
While the Mutant Research Center was familiar, it was also limiting. Surrounded by ocean on all sides made Connor feel so small. He wanted to run until he could not run any longer. He wanted to see mountains and rivers and skyscrapers... until it all drove him to the sanctity of a dimly lit room with bare walls and a beanbag chair.
"I. AM. READY. TO. GO."
Jumping down from the tree without a flourish, Connor landed in a simple half-crouch. His device was tucked under his sweatshirt, so he attempted verbal communication. "Juh... juh..." Arms out as if to catch her, he presumed she would know his meaning.
“Jump?!” She laughed. “Are you crazy? Oh, why not. It’s not that far.” She carefully positioned herself over where he stood and with a deep breath, let herself fall from the tree, screaming delightedly the whole way down.
Connor leapt in the air and met her nearly halfway. Catching her petite frame in his strong arms, he let himself drop back to the ground into a crouch before he put her on his shoulders. He patted her hands twice to ensure she was holding on, and then he started to run toward the Blackbird at breakneck speed.
Iris squeezed and laughed in delight as he ran with her on his shoulders. It had been a long time since anybody had carried her on their shoulders. She was still small enough, though, so it wasn’t uncomfortable. On the contrary, it was a lot of fun and reminded her of being five and playing with her dad in the backyard. She saw the Blackbird coming into view and suddenly realized that anybody around wouldn’t be able to see her. She began looking around for the Professor or anybody at all, really.
As Moira stood next to Charles, she could barely believe her eyes when she saw Connor jump up, catch the girl, and then carry her on his shoulders in a galloping sprint that raced ahead like a stockcar.
~Have you had a change of heart, Connor?" the Professor asked, mind to mind.
Coming to a stop, Connor hoisted Iris in one arm and lowered her to the ground.
Iris grinned at the Professor as Connor set her down. She hadn't realized that she would be having so much fun on this trip.
"I. WANT. TO. GO."
Moira wanted nothing more than to throw her arms around Connor and hug him goodbye, but she knew physicality needed to be on his terms. "I will miss you, Connor, and be thinking of ye always."
Looking at the only real mother he'd ever known, Connor put away his talking device and said, eyes averted, but loud and distinct. "Bye."
Throwing caution to the wind, Moira threw her arms around Connor and hugged him as tightly as she dared, just long enough to hide her tears. She wiped her hand over her face and then released the young man. "Contact me anytime."
Connor looked at all three, bulged his eyes impatiently, and then hefted his luggage over his shoulders. As simple as that, he was ready to board.
"Why don't you assist Connor with stowing his luggage and finding a seat, Iris," Charles said, "while I say goodbye to Moira."
"Sure! Come on, Connor," she said, motioning for him to follow her onto the jet. She took him into the passenger area and opened one of the luggage compartments. "You can put your bags in here," she told him.
After strapping his luggage into place, keeping one eye on Iris lest he lose sight of her, he slapped his chest two times.
"I trust you've done it right," said Iris, "but since I'm the pilot, I still have to check. It's one of the things on my preflight checklist." And she moved to make sure the straps were nice and tight. Of course, Connor was much stronger than she was, so he had pulled the straps tighter than she ever could have. "Good job!" she exclaimed, holding up one hand for a high five.
Connor slapped her hard enough to knock her off balance and nearly send her into the opposite bulkhead. He put his fist against his chest and rubbed it in a clockwise motion.
Had it not been for the chair directly behind her, Iris would have fallen to the floor of the jet. She didn't know any sign language, but the guilty look on Connor's face told her what he meant. "It's okay," she told him. "I'm tiny and easy to push around. I gotta do pre-flight stuff. You wanna tag along or would you rather get strapped into a seat?"
The question put Connor into thought as he began to think about the preflight checklists himself. Before he could answer, Professor Xavier boarded the jet.
"Are we ready to fly?" he asked congenially. Naturally, he was well aware of the state of the jet. His question was an amiable one intended to set Connor at his ease.
Connor nodded and at last took his seat. The buckles were a struggle at first, but he figured them out soon enough.
"READY. TO. GO."
"Excellent," Xavier said. "Iris, take us home."
"I'll have us in the air in ten minutes!" promised Iris, heading towards the cockpit.
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