Back at my apartment, it didn’t take long to show Shelly the five or six outfits she had purchased the day before.  Still, it didn’t stop Shelly from having Karen try each garment on, and make helpful suggestions on how she could stretch her wardrobe.

 

                “I’d like to thank you for cheering me up today, Shelly.”  I told her.  “It meant a lot.”

 

                “You needed it doofus.”  She replied.  “And as a friend it’s kind of my job to try and lift you up.  If you do something stupid it’ll be my job to slap you upside the head too, so there’s that to look forward to as well.”

 

                “I guess so.”  I replied, smirking. 

                 

                “So what are your plans now?”  Shelly asked.  “Are you serious about trying out for this Metahuman Response Team?”

 

                “I’m thinking about it, seriously.  I was going to let the idea gel and sit for a few days, to make sure I’m not making the wrong decision.  If I still feel the same in a day or so, I’ll head to the local RCMP detachment in Toronto and apply in person.  After that, I’ll see where that takes me.  If it’s any consolation, the job pays ridiculously well compared to minimum wage, and it’s a job to be proud of.”

 

                Shelly smiled.  “Well, you have to make the right decision for you.  If that’s what you want to do, then you should go for it.  We’ll probably have to reschedule our games, though – I doubt you’re going to get weekends off.”

 

                “Sorry, Shelly – but like I said to you and Eddie, work comes first.  We’ll make time to see each other, I know we will.”

 

                She skitrched Pepsi, who had crawled into her lap during my impromptu fashion show.  Pepsi graciously allowed the pettings to continue and yawned cutely.  “So you’ve pretty much decided?”

 

                “Yeah, pretty much.  Unless something changes my mind or I have second thoughts, I’m going to apply in a few days.”  I replied.

 

                “Does Eddie know?” 

 

                “Sort of – I ran the idea by him, but he didn’t seem too thrilled with it initially.  I was going to call him tomorrow and talk about it some more.  I’d like his input.”

 

                “Cool.”  Shelly looked at her watch.  “Oh my god, the whole day is gone. It’s like 6:30pm!”

 

                “Yeah – sorry.  I guess everything just took way too long today.  Thanks for the moral support.”

 

                “You’re welcome, pal – but I gotta get going.  I’ve got some stuff I want to do tonight at home.”  Shelly said, reaching for her purse and jacket.

 

                “It’s alright.”  I replied.  “Stay safe – and call me when you get home safe.”

 

                “Will do!”  Shelly said, and headed out, giving Pepsi one final pet.

 

                As Shelly left, and I closed and locked the door after her, I realized that as aggravating and frustrating today had been, I really had had fun in her company.  “I hope Barb had better luck with the government than I had.”  I said to no one in particular.  I wondered how Mike and his grandmother were doing from the hospital – and how Melissa the otter-girl was doing as well. 

 

                I didn’t really have any idea how I could find out how they were doing – being neither medical contact or family.  Not sure on what to do, I tabled the idea of checking on them for a while, and went to the kitchen to put on a kettle for a bowl of cheap homemade ramen.  While the water boiled, I diced some vegetables, watercress and ginger root and added them to the broth to help thicken and flavor it, and added some chicken stock.  Dinner was simple, but filling, and it was something I enjoyed on occasion.   

 

Afterwards, I headed to my computer to unwind for a little while.  The web comics I followed were a fun distraction, and facebook didn’t have much going for it save politics and cat pictures.  What took me by surprise is the responses to my Kijiji adverts from a few days ago…  Three people were interested in my male wardrobe, and of those three two were willing to pay cash, and one was willing to pay some cash and trade some female clothing. 

 

Wow, I thought.  I didn’t really know if anyone would answer those ads, but wow.  I settled down to contacting the users, and let them know the clothes were still available on a first come, first served basis.  I made some arrangements – and hopefully by this time tomorrow, I would have either some money to replace the amount I spent buying new clothes – or new to me clothes that I wouldn’t have to worry about buying in the future.  Either way was a win-win.

 

Things were looking up.  It was hard to believe – but things were looking up!

 

 

*              *              *

 

                The next morning – Friday – was rather busy.  Two of the Kijiji customers had dropped by and taken me up on my offer of buying my old male clothing – and I had scored several hundred dollars and another eight or so ladies outfits that would fit me, some for summer, spring and winter too.  I wasn’t too sure on some of the garments, but I needed new clothing badly enough I was willing to try things I might otherwise not.  The whole thing left me feeling frazzled – I hated letting strangers into my apartment – but I felt significantly more secure now that I had recouped $500 of my emergency expense fund.  I religiously made sure I had a financial buffer in case of disaster, and buying those bras and new outfits had dug dangerously into my fund.  Now I could rest easy and replace those funds.

 

                It had been hard saving up for that fund too.  Months on months of cheap ramen or bologna sandwiches, not going out or paying for extra entertainments.  It had been hard – and sometimes even ramen and bologna were too much for the budget… But I had done it.  I’m glad now I had.  If I’d been living paycheck to paycheck when the Emergence happened, I’d have been totally screwed.

 

                Pepsi crawled out from beneath the couch, now that the people were gone, and purred, head-butting me in the leg. 

 

                “Hey Pepsi.  Glad all the people are gone?”  I asked.  I talked to my cat a lot.

 

                “Brrup!”  She chirped.  “Mrow!”  Pepsi stretched, arching her back, and proceeded to hop up onto the couch to sleep.  The couch sat three – and she had her favorite place right next to where I usually sat.  I smiled as she cuddled up and enjoyed what was left of a late morning sun-spot.

 

                “Yeah, me too.”  I replied.  I sat next to her, and stroked her fur gently so as not to disturb her.  She sighed and stretched, and licked my hand.  She was my little furry baby.

 

                I realized I felt kind of lonely, and wanted someone to talk to.  I picked up the phone and gave Eddie a call; it picked up on the third ring.

 

                “Hey, you’ve reached Eddie.”  He answered.  “What’s up?”

 

                “Hey, Eddie.”  I replied.  “It’s Karen.  Got a few minutes to talk?”

 

                “Sure thing, Karen.” He said.  “What’s on your mind?”

 

                “I just wanted to talk a bit.  I kind of felt lonely, and I wanted to talk about the Metahuman Response Team with you again.”

 

                “I missed you too, Karen.”  He said, and I could just picture the smile on his face over the phone. “What about the MRT did you want to talk about?”

 

                “Well, I’m still thinking about signing up for it, for starters.  Earlier, you seemed a bit iffy about me joining them.  Can I ask why?”  I asked.

 

                “Well, mostly it was me being selfish.”  Eddie began.  “I was worried you’d get hurt being in combat all the time.  I’ve thought my reaction over, and I realize I was being an idiot.  For one thing, you told me you were really tough – and I wasn’t thinking of all the good you could do, either.  I think you’d be a good police officer.  I guess my opinion is that I changed my mind.  I think you’d be a good fit for it.”

 

                He was worried about me?  That was sweet, I thought, blushing a bit.  But still a bit selfish.  “Thanks for letting me know, Eddie.  I was worried I might alienate you if I did decide to sign up with them.”

 

                “No!  Never!  I just didn’t think before I spoke.”  Eddie replied.

 

                “Okay.”  I sat on the phone in silence for a few moments, trying to think of what to say – but my brain chose that moment to flush any rational thoughts down the drain, and I struggled for something to say.

 

                “You still there?”  Eddie asked.

 

                “Yeah.  Sorry – I got distracted.  I think I’m going to go to the RCMP office and apply.  If I have to cancel tomorrow’s game, I’ll let you know and we’ll reschedule.”

 

                “Okay…  I’ll let you off this time.”  Eddie joked.  “Good luck!”

 

                “Thanks, Eddie.  It means a lot.”  I hung up and looked at the time.  It was still early – not even 1pm.  I gathered my jacket and purse and got ready to go out.  Going to the RCMP office would probably take the rest of the afternoon.

 

 

*              *              *

 

 

                It turned out the RCMP office in Toronto was in Etobicoke, which ended up being about an hour bus ride across town to get to it.  The RCMP office was a smallish building – one story with a decent sized parking lot, with room for a fair sized number of offices inside.  It wasn’t a full RCMP division, but rather a detachment for the city of Toronto and its airport.  The internet had told me there were other detachments in the Toronto area too – Windsor, Newmarket, London.  This was the closest for me.

 

                Not really sure of what to do, or where to go, I walked up to the front door, and stepped inside.  As my eyes adjusted to the interior light, I saw an entry foyer, with a waiting room and a few officers standing at a counter.  I approached, and cleared my throat. 

 

“Excuse me,” I said.  “Am I at the right place?  Is this the RCMP?”

 

The officer looked up and smiled.  “Yes, ma’am.  How can I help you today?”

 

“I’d like to apply to the Metahuman Response Team.” 

 

The officer paused, unsure what to do.  “Excuse me a moment, ma’am.  I’ll get my supervisor.”

 

“Sure.”  I replied.  Am I the first to apply? I wondered.  I hoped not.

 

A few minutes later, the Constable returned along with a younger woman in a neat charcoal business suit, with a short charcoal skirt and pumps.  She looked to be about twenty five – surely not thirty – and she had short red hair and a smattering of freckles.  With her was an older man, a little pudgy around the middle, in his forties or a bit older.  His hair was receding, but still present, and was going silver.  The older man was dressed in a uniform that looked like he held a fairly high rank in the RCMP.  I straightened up, and put my best smile on.  A good first impression is important.

 

                “Hello!”  I said, as the duo approached.

 

                “Hello, miss.”  The older gentleman replied.  “I’m Superintendant Reginald Gatineau, and this is my associate, Nadine Potter.  She is with the Ministry of Metahuman Affairs.  I understand you’d like to join the metahuman response team?”

 

                “Yes sir.  I want to help.”  Karen replied.  “I already have, on the night of the Emergence.”

 

                “You have?”  Superintendant Gatineau asked.  “We don’t have any record of someone matching your appearance.”

 

                “I was calling myself Guardian.  When the Emergence occurred, I got changed physically – and got superpowers.”

 

                The superintendant looked confused a moment – and pulled out a sheet of paper that had a picture on it.  “Well, I’ll be damned…” he said to himself.  “Can you see the resemblance, Ms. Potter?”

 

                Nadine took the paper, and shook her head in amazement.  “I can now – but before she told us who she was I just wasn’t making the connection.  Some sort of defence mechanism to prevent identification?”

 

                “Maybe,” replied Mr. Gatineau.  “Could you please come with us?”

 

                “Yes, I can.”  I replied, a bit confused.  “What just happened with that picture?  Why are you both looking confused?”

 

                “We’ll speak in my office, Miss…”

 

                “Miss Castle.”  Karen supplied.

 

                “Well, then. In my office, Miss Castle.  I think Ms. Potter might have hit the nail on the head.”

 

                Not sure what to make of the situation, I followed them, wondering what the hell just happened.

 

Superintendant Gatineau’s office was suitable decorated for a man of his rank and stature in the RCMP – a nice wooden desk, complete with computer, bookshelves, and a few pictures of presumably his family or his grandkids.  I sat in one of the proffered chairs, and Ms. Potter did the same – and Mr. Gatineau sat behind his desk.  Once we were seated, and in the privacy of his office with the door closed, he began to speak.

 

“What just happened, Miss Castle, was probably an element of your power – that from your expression you weren’t aware of.  When I looked at the photo the police had of Guardian the night of the Emergence, I see one person – and when I first looked at you, I saw a distinctly similar but different person – enough that I was convinced you weren’t the Guardian the police had encountered.  The moment you said “I’m the Guardian, however, whatever had been affecting my senses or perceptions faded, and I could see that you were the same person.  I believe that is what Ms. Potter meant by a defence mechanism.”

 

“Yes, that’s exactly what I meant.  Like it’s a kind of hypnotic ability to preserve your identity, separating you from your Guardian persona.”

 

“That seems weird, even given comic book logic.”  I replied.

 

“Maybe.”  Ms. Potter agreed.  “But it seems to be a fact as well.  What a peculiar power.”

 

“What is your role in the Ministry of Metahuman Affairs, Ms. Potter?”  I asked.

 

“I’m the official liaison between the MRT and the Ministry.” Nadine replied.  “I’m basically a civil servant whose job it is to ensure the MRT operates efficiently and at its best ability.  I’m in charge of keeping you all in line, and keeping you happy.  I have the power to censure you, or provide rewards if you do well.  I guess, if you have to be blunt, I’m also your political and media advisor too – and Superintendent Gatineau would be your temporary commanding officer.”

 

“Oh.  Thank you.”  I said. 

 

“Are you aware of the ramifications of what you’re about to undertake, Miss Castle?”  Mr. Gatineau asked.

 

“Umm.  No.  I’m going to become a police officer, in time?”

 

“Yes and no.  The RCMP is a paramilitary branch of the Canadian Government – it is both a Federal police force, but it is also set up in a military style.  The MRT will be training here in Toronto, but once you apply, you will be expected to serve at least five years – like a term of military service – before you can resign.  You will be subject to military style law, not civilian law, and you may eventually be stationed anywhere in Canada – although we are intending on letting some of the MRT select where they serve after the initial training period.”

 

“So I could be transferred to St. Johns, or Calgary, once the initial training is over?”

 

“Yes, or the boonies of Nunavut or Inuvik.  Are you prepared for that?”  Superintendant Gatineau asked.

 

I thought about it for a moment.  It didn’t really appeal to me, the idea of leaving Toronto, or for signing up for a five year commitment – but considering the level of training I suspected we would be receiving, I wasn’t surprised.  I would miss Eddie and Shelly, but if it came down to it, five years wasn’t all that long – and I could always visit on holidays or vacations.  Long distance friendships were built for Skype anyway, weren’t they? 

 

“Is it guaranteed I’ll be transferred out of the city?  I have an apartment and a lease.”

 

Superintendent Gatineau smiled.  “No, it’s not guaranteed, but it is a distinct possibility.  We’ll have to talk about the living arrangements next, as well.  Do you have any pets, Miss Castle?”

 

“Yes, a young girl cat named Pepsi.  I won’t give her up – that’s non-negotiable.”  I replied.

 

“You won’t have to.”  He said, smiling.  “But you will be expected to move into the MRT temporary training facility, and live there during your training.  You can bring your pet, if you wish – but there’s no need to divest yourself of your apartment or home until you know if you’re being transferred or not.  If you do get transferred, the RCMP will help you out of your lease, if it’s an issue.” 

 

“So will I be living at this training facility full time, then?”  I asked.

 

“Yes.”  Ms. Potter replied.  “Along with all the other members of the MRT.”

 

“For how long?”

 

“It depends.”  Superintendant Gatineau replied.  “If we get a large number of recruits, the training period might last only five to six months before we break you up and send smaller groups across Canada.  If the number of trainees remains small, it might be up to a year or more before we split you up.  No matter where you are, you’ll be undergoing a mixture of classroom training, on the job training, combat training and training in police techniques.  You’ll also be trained on how to be RCMP constables, and will officially be ‘Special Constables’ – with all the rights and responsibilities of a federal police officer.  You will have a badge, and be expected to carry it, and you will be paid according to the standard rates an RCMP officer is paid, dependent on your rank and time in service.”

 

“So this is a huge commitment.”  Karen responded.  “I’m still interested.”

 

“Good,” smiled the superintendant.  “Then let’s get you some paperwork.”

 

Ms. Potter smiled at me.  “I think you’re making a very brave decision.  We need people like you right now.”

 

I hoped I was making the right decision.  Either way, I was committed.  Or should be.  As I received a large stack of application papers, I had one final question.

 

“Once I apply, how long do I have before I have to move into MRT headquarters?”

 

Superintendant Gatineau answered me quickly.  “As soon as possible.  Tomorrow would be acceptable.”

 

Tomorrow? I knew things would move quickly when I made the application, but one day?  Wow.  “I can be ready.  Where are we training?”

 

Ms. Potter gave me an address – it was a building on the campus of Humber College, in Etobicoke.  “Humber College?”  I asked.

 

“Can you think of a better place to teach future police officers than a school?”  Ms. Potter answered.

 

“I guess not.”  I said, laughing.  “When do I report, and what do I bring?”

 

“Tomorrow, by 11am.”  Ms. Potter replied.  “Bring suitable clothing for about two weeks if you can.  That should get you through with enough to spare, plus any personal effects you wish to have in your dorm with you.  And your cat, of course.”

 

“Of course.”  There was no way I was leaving Pepsi behind.  “Then I’ll see you tomorrow… Is there a reason neither of you asked to see if I had powers?”

 

“Miss, your exploits were well documented the night of the Emergence – and many of the officers involved were very detailed in relating what you accomplished.  You look identical to your picture taken that night – so unless you’re a twin or some sort of shapeshifter, I think we’ll be okay.  And if you are a shapeshifter, I suspect we’ll find out soon enough.”

 

“Oh…  Well, okay then.  I guess I’d better go home and pack.  Will I be seeing either of you again soon?”

 

“You’ll be seeing me tomorrow, Miss Castle.  You won’t be seeing Superintendant Gatineau soon unless you royally screw up.  You’ll have a supervisor who will be in charge of the MRT as your boss.”

 

“Fine.”  I sat down and began filling out the forms.  All the while, I noticed that Ms. Potter and Mr. Gatineau watched me carefully, almost studying me, and not in a necessarily nice way. 

 

Finally it was done.  I signed my official name – Kevin Castle – even though it kind of made me ill to deadname myself, and it was done.  I belonged to the RCMP for the next five years – assuming they accepted my application.  I sighed.  Everything I knew was about to change drastically.

 

Mr. Gatineau smiled, and shook my hand.  “Welcome to the Metahuman Response Team, Miss Castle.”

 

I shook his hand back.  “Thank you, sir.”

 

Now there was no going back.