sHe: THE RISE OF THE NEW BREEDS [Book 1]

Chapter 4

HIS EYES PEEKED ELUSIVELY AT THE MIRROR ahead of him, before he answered. The countenance of the Intersexual boy named Reeves was a dead ringer of his mother when she was at his age at twelve — but, the only difference was that the androgynous had the physical body of a boy — and also was tan in complexion, due to his mixed parentage.

He grew up those dozen years, in a boarding school with other orphans, where the place was also a research facility — The IIRC — The Intersexual Intelligence Research Center, was where they studied the intelligence of the new species race.

It was also located in the once well-known Wesleyan University, in Delaware, Ohio.

Reeves grew up with other fellow-two hundred and seventy-eight other orphans in that facility — not knowing that twenty-seven miles away was his mother, Laura Jensen — who was reposed in a coma at a hospital, in the city of Columbus.

Reeves sat opposite to a woman who was testing his IQ with a series of oral questions.

This was what the pedagogue women of IIRC do to them — give them trite class lectures for a few days, followed by group activities, and then tested them individually — tested them — gauged them — graded them from the erudite to the average students — until to a point that Reeves was blase and was sick, to what those women's meandering and austere cycles of banal experimentations were resulting up to...

But, today the dissident boy had a game plan — he was occasionally sneaking a glance at a mirror on the wall opposite to him. He always knew that someone was observing him, through the one-way mirror — normally, it was the psychologist Sherlock, who was grading the test-score results...

Winnie Sherlock grumbled to herself in frustration to notice the continuous mistakes that Reeves was making through the mirror. For every time Reeves made a mistake — a red light sparked in front of him, similarly, green for the correct answer.

The downhearted Sherlock mumbled while she jotted into her report...

"Come on you freak, what's wrong with you today?"

Reeves then answered another question incorrectly, in front of her eyes...

"Damn you, Reeves — that was an easy one, how could you not get that?"

Sherlock muttered before she heard the clacking high heels approaching from behind. She turned to glance at the director of the IIRC — Tina Martin, entering into her room...

She was a very tall woman in a business suit and was a strict no-nonsense employer.

Martin asked her about the progress of the test — and Sherlock feigned that it was coming on fine.

She felt neural when Martin remained longer than her usual swing-by — and the director was also observing the test subject, Reeves, over her shoulder, who was asked a question in the other room.

When the red light lit twice in a row, Tina Martin probed...

"Ms Sherlock, I thought you understood my instruction — that the advanced series, should be tested on the brightest of the lot."

"But he is one of the brightest in the group. He is always in the top 10% assemblage." the psychologist kvetched back nervously.

Tina picked up a file with the name 'Eve' on the cover — and read it out the name — and, Winnie Sherlock responded by correcting her...

"He prefers to be called Reeves — I don't know why, but he is not at his best today, Miss Martin."

Tina gauged Reeves past test scores in the file which was impressive and was above the average. Martin peered at the dark-haired boy in the other room, who was asked another question.

Reeves gave another wrong answer, and the red light came on again...

Tina Martin caught the wiles of the twelve-year-old — taking a furtive glimpse, at the one-way-mirror — and he then smiled to himself...

The director dropped the file on the desk — laughing to herself, while she walked out the door...

"Looks like, we got a rebel in our hand — and obviously, a cunning one too...

"He knows that you are watching him, Miss Sherlock."

Winnie Sherlock felt the chagrins after her boss' visit. She looked back in agitation at the shifty Reeves' inordinate mistakes that he kept on making, behind the mirror...

"Damn you, freak!"