Chapter #46In Which You Apply Yourself Without Knowing It by: Seuzz   "I don't know what you want to do with your life," Frank says while you're stopped at a light, "but I think we'd accept an application from you."
"To work with you? To do what you guys do?" you ask, and Frank nods. "Is there any money in it?"
He laughs, and this time he sounds genuinely delighted. "No, there isn't any money in it. You'd have to have a separate job to support yourself. But we could help you out there too."
He shifts in his seat so he can look at you face on. "If you're even a little bit interested, when we're all back together at the house, Joe's wants to give you a test. You know, like a vocational interest test. First part's on the computer, and then there's a questionnaire, a kind of personality test."
You can hardly believe this offer. You fucked up things so badly before you started putting them right, and you don't know anything about the kind of stuff they're involved in. Most of all you just can't believe that anyone would want your help. "Are you sure you want me?" you squeak. "Would Rick be okay with this?"
"He's the one that told us to give you the test. He's pretty sure you'll ace it."
"Why's that?"
"Yesterday, while you were at the house with him, were you playing a game on our laptop?"
Were you? So much has happened since then that— "Oh, yeah. Sorry, I was bored."
"It's fine. But Rick noticed it, and he noticed your score on it. He had Joe look at it. It was a good score. Like, really good."
"It didn't seem that hard. I mean, once I figured out the pattern—"
"Look, just don't worry about it. Are you willing to at least take the test? Good," he says when you numbly nod.
* * * * *
You pick up Lisa's car -- which has been waiting at Frank and Joe's house all this time -- and Frank drives it back as you lead in your truck. After you and he exchange some polite words with her mother, you return to their place to await the others. About an hour later, during which time you and Frank relax with some sports on the TV, Joe saunters in with a trumpet-like hoot on his lips. "The victors return!" he shouts, and pumps his fists in the air. "Those were two really hot girls," he says. "How'd you let Lisa get away from you?" he asks.
"I didn't," you retort. "She dumped me."
"That must'a sucked," Joe says. He sounds very cheerful, even as Carson, who's followed him in, frowns at the back of his head. "What's it like being dumped? That never happens to me."
"Do you have to be such a bragging asshole about it?" Frank says.
"I'm just asking!"
"Less asking, more tasking." Frank gets to his feet. "You get the Libra?"
Joe snaps his fingers and puts out his hand. With a sour expression, Carson hands it to him. Joe waves it in the air. "And that is that!"
"Not until we find a way to fix that girl and that teacher," Frank retorts.
"That's my homework for tonight," Joe says. "No biggie, I'll have it figured out -- "
"If you can have it figured out tonight, you can have it figured out this afternoon. But first you should do that thing with Will and Carson."
Joe flicks his merry expression onto you. "You talked to him about it?" he asks Frank. "Good," he says when Frank nods. He tucks one of his arms into Carson's, and the other into yours. "Then let's go have some fun," he says as he drags you and your friend into the dining nook where the laptop is. "Call us in a pizza, bro!" he shouts back at Frank.
* * * * *
"Rick told me you were playing one of the games on my laptop," he says as he pushes you into a chair and leans over your shoulder. "Fire it up for me."
You do as he asks, though you're fucked if you understand what's so important about it. It's a kind of geometry game: against a timer, you have to join small patterns into larger and more complex patterns, which alter into new patterns once such an addition has been made. Every pattern has a distinct "hook" that you have to use to get it to connect to another pattern, and you have to not only remember the shape of the hooks and the patterns they connect to, but what order the patterns evolve so that you can evolve a pattern into a new configuration that will contain the kind of hook that you need for other patterns. It's interesting and challenging, but not especially fun, and you only press on with because Joe is watching so intently.
When you finally lose—as in Tetris, this is a game where you only put off losing as long as possible—Joe turns it over to Carson while sending you into the kitchen to help Frank do some dishes that have piled up. Carson soon joins you, having been quickly baffled by the game, and you get feel superior to him for once. Then the pizza arrives, and over it Joe challenges you and Ioeger and Frank to a kind of parlor game.
It's a strange kind of question-and-answer thing, putting the same queries to each of you in turn. Some of the questions are straightforward: When is your birthday? How many siblings do you have? What is your dad's job? What is your favorite color? Some are eccentric: Would you rather eat a tadpole or a titmouse? If strawberries didn't taste like strawberries, what would they taste like? Some are just nonsensical: Do you prefer metal hinges or Corgi dogs? Which hemisphere is the Martian capital in? He sketches while you answer, shifting between three sheets of drafting paper according to who is giving the answer. Sometimes he has to use a ruler or a compass. When he's done—about hour later—he laughs and says it was all just a giant gag, and throws the papers away. Ioeger cusses him for wasting time.
You're coming out of the bathroom a little later when you hear low voices coming from a nearby bedroom.
Joe: "It was a waste with Ioeger. He flunked the sigil game instantly, and his chart was a mess. But we knew that before we even started."
Frank: "He's got a good head, Joe. He's got the right spirit, too."
Joe: "No argument from me. I'd offer him an associate spot tonight, but it's not my call. Prescott, though, Rick was dead on there."
Frank: "Given what he told us about the Libra, I'm not surprised."
Joe: "It's a deader certainty than that. Kenandandra and Sulva, bro. Oh c'mon, can you at least pretend to know what that means?"
Frank: "I don't know any Sulvae off-hand."
Joe: "'Cos there aren't any. That's how come Prescott's been hidden so long, and it's why he's so spooky under a mask. The Moon is a mirror, Frank."
Frank: "So you want to tell him now or later?"
There's a sudden silence, and to avoid getting caught eavesdropping, you hustle into the front part of the house. You're astonished to find Joe sprawled on the floor there, helping Carson to set up a chessboard. Joe does a double-take when he sees you. "Something on your mind, Will?"
"I just thought I heard you, uh, talking to Frank."
"I was. Am. Multitasking." To Carson: "You can play white." To you: "You overhear something that interested you?"
"Nothing I understood."
"Well, we can fix that. Go find Frank. And me." To Carson: "You're not opening with that gambit, are you?"
The bedroom door is open, but you knock softly at it anyway before putting your head in. You're more dismayed than shocked to find Joe inside, standing next to Frank. He grins, even as you hear his voice from the living room as he and Carson argue over chess strategies. Frank shoots him a quick glare. "Don't mind him," he tells you. "He's just showing off. Close the door." You oblige.
"So I told you Joe was going to give you a test," Frank continues. "You passed with flying colors. We were sure you would."
"What kind of a test?" You glance at Joe. "And I thought you said that question game was a lot of bullshit."
"That was for Carson's benefit," says Frank. "For now. Look, we haven't really told you that much about ourselves. Who we are and where we come from -- "
"We're from outer space," Joe says. He looks very serious for a moment, then cracks up. "Oh, the look on your face, Prescott. I'm yanking your chain. I'm from Germany and Frank is from Italy. We're totally normal."
"Except we're not, really," Frank says. He looks discomfited, even nervous, and he shifts from one foot to the other while frowning deeply. "Look, you know after all this stuff that went on that magic -- well, we don't like that word, but there's not a better one -- it's real. And there's real magic books and warlocks and witches -- "
"And that's what you guys are?" you blurt out.
Both their faces tighten. "Let's just say we've got certain, uh, prodigies," says Frank.
"Look, for right now just think of us as the X-Men," says Joe. "Call them 'mutant powers' and be done with it. Or we're like the Justice League. There's a bunch of us -- well, not a bunch, only a couple of dozen -- and our job is to keep the bad things down. Things like the Libra. Things like Blackwell."
Frank cocks his head, and a gleam comes into his eye. "Did you have fun the past couple of days?"
"Not really," you admit. "I mean, it was kind of exciting. And I did my best to help."
"And you did a good job," says Frank. "I told you that. Point being -- "
"How'd you like to take a job with us?" says Joe.
Frank had mentioned such a thing before, in the car. That had been a hint. This sounds like the actual offer.
Then Joe floors you with a follow-up. "Because you're already one of us, in a way. The test showed it. You're an X-Man."
* * * * *
Well then. What can you do but say yes?
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