Mutant
Price to Pay : Lucas
by Mapu
I don't own the seaQuest crew or the X-Men. I just play with them. This is the first of my Mutant series and is a crossover between seaQuest season 1 and X-men (the movie). Each story in the series is told from more than one point of view. Thankyou, Donna, for the edit of this story.
Lucas could remember Lt. Kreig once telling him, "You make a bid - You pay the price." He had thought it amusing at the time. Ben had been caught by the captain in the process of obtaining some "recreational" materials through less than official channels, and had ended up on double duty for a month. Ben had sighed and taken the punishment in good humor. Especially since the captain hadn't found it necessary to deprive the crew of his hard found entertainment, the crew had hailed Ben as a hero... at least the male portion had. Lucas had never thought much about the saying, but he was to learn that there was a painful truth camouflaged in the words.
Since leaving the seaQuest, Lucas had found it hard to come by new material to learn. He visited public libraries as often as he could, but a sixteen-year-old in a library during class hours tended to arouse the suspicions of adults. Why would a kid leave school and then spend his time in a library everyday? The one thing Lucas couldn't afford was to be remembered. If the library staff knew him well enough to remember him, then there was only a small step to make the connection to recognition. When he'd first been exposed, his face had been splashed across enough newspapers with the words "Genius" and "Mutant" in the heading for such a connection to be made. It didn't take a great deal of intelligence to realize that if you wanted to find a genius mutant on the run, looking at publicly accessible information centers ... like libraries, would be a good place to start.
He knew it would be smarter to just stay away from those types of places but couldn't help himself. Learning had become an addiction at a very early age for Lucas. He needed new information almost as much as he needed to breathe. The captain had once described it as, "A neural drip he couldn't shut off," and the man had been right. Lucas needed to learn.
His need for new information brought him to the doors of the natural history museum, and the treasures of the recently discovered, ancient Myan temple currently on display. He almost turned around and left when he saw the level of security on the main entrance, but realized it would look more suspicious if he did. The guards had already seen him. Besides, the security precautions were understandable, if a little extreme, considering the value of some of the artifacts inside.
Steeling his nerves, Lucas walked through the metal detectors and passed the serious looking security personnel, trying desperately to look like he belonged. One of the security guards gave him an appraising look but allowed him through without comment. Lucas breathed a sigh of relief once he was clear of the security station and quickly made his way to the exhibition ... it would have to be something special to need that much protective man-power. What Lucas didn't know was the security wasn't intended just to protect the display. It was there to protect the high profile senator due to visit the museum with his entourage, and a host of invited media.
Lucas gazed appreciatively at the massive, sculpture before him. It was unlike anything he had ever seen before, made of several different stones neatly fitted together so that the seams barely showed and without a single right angle. He knew the ancient culture had had an aversion to sharp corners but he was dumbfounded at the intricacy and complexity of the design. With all his considerable intelligence and problem solving skills, Lucas wasn't sure he would be able to design anything like it ... at least nothing so complex and beautiful. He felt a small smile creep over his face as he realized how much he was enjoying his visit.
A commotion near the entrance drew his attention, and he looked over in time to see a large group of people entering the room. At first, Lucas thought a tour group had arrived, but then he noticed the television cameras and bodyguards. At the center of the throng was the smiling face of a man Lucas recognized instantly ... Senator Robert Kelly. Lucas felt the blood drain from his face and his hands began to shake in fear. He was trapped ... trapped in a room with Senator Kelly ... the founder of the Mutant Watch Program and the most out-spoken, mutant-hater on the planet. This was the man who wanted mutants identified, registered and tagged so that they could be watched, arrested ... or worse.
Lucas glanced frantically around the room, looking for another way out, but the only way he could see was the main entrance behind the senator and media. If he tried it, Lucas knew he'd be caught. The intensity of his fear began to trigger the power and Lucas shut his eyes to hide the silver glow that always came with a stirring of the energy. He turned to face the sculpture again, keeping his back to the senator, and trying desperately to quash his emotions. He struggled desperately against his fear, needing to calm his emotions before he could bring the power under control.
Slowly, he began to control it, but the effort needed to resist it exhausted him. A wave of light-headed dizziness swept through him, and he leant against the display table for support until it passed. Something about the table felt familiar... felt wrong, and Lucas concentrated on the feeling. Even as the power faded from his mind, he could sense the exact molecular pattern of the table, and the object hidden underneath it. It was a bomb... a big one.
Lucas stood back from the sculpture and its table in shock. He looked around the room at the hundreds of people in the center. The bomb was large enough to destroy the whole room and kill everyone present. In fact, it would probably go a long way toward destroying the entire building. In a near panic, Lucas looked towards the exit. Senator Kelly and the reporters had moved from the entrance and were standing near a display of ancient pottery. The exit was clear, he could escape.
Lucas took several steps in the direction of the door and the safety it promised before stopping, confused. If he left without warning these people, they would die, but if he tried to warn them he would be exposed, and there was no telling what would happen to him then. He could think of no way to warn them without exposing himself as a mutant.
If he just told them there was a good chance he wouldn't be taken seriously, the bomb was well hidden behind the display table's paneling. If he tried to use his power to disable the device, his skin would glow and the energy would be visible to everyone, along with the fact that he was a mutant. He couldn't even break through the solid panels to reveal the device without using his power. He didn't know what to do ... he wanted to run. Lucas closed his eyes and tried to think ... he didn't want to die ... he didn't want anyone to die, but he definitely did not want to be identified as a mutant.
Senator Kelly had been professionally trained to use methods that would allow his voice to carry clearly to every member of a crowd and he used that technique often. The senator's voice cut through Lucas' confused thoughts.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, we stand here, surrounded by artifacts of a culture long dead," the senator said, gesturing to the display of pottery pieces beside him for effect. "But our culture faces this exact same threat ... from Mutants. Unless something is done to stem the tide of these degenerate mutations, all that will be left of our proud country and its fine culture will be a pile of dishes stacked on a table. Displayed in some mutant's museum of the future," the senator told the assembled crowd.
Lucas felt a flush of hot anger race through him at the words, and the murmured sounds of agreement coming from the crowd. "Damn them all... let them burn," Lucas thought irrationally, recommencing his trek toward the exit and his own safety. The doors opened before he reached them to admit a child and her parents. The girl looked without much interest around herself, her soft brown eyes locking momentarily with Lucas's before continuing a bored perusal of the room.
Lucas froze in his tracks, and his anger drained away. "What the hell was he doing? ... Had he honestly thought he would be able to live with himself if he had left?" A calm acceptance filled him as he watched his view of the sanctuary outside obscured by the closing door. That little girl, a child who didn't yet know if she would become a mutant, would die too. If he did nothing, he would be responsible for her death ... and the deaths of everyone in the room ... as much as if he'd planted the bomb himself. He turned from the door, resolute, and rapidly made his way back to the sculpture.
Slowly, he knelt before the solid wood panels that covered the bomb from view. He opened his mind to the power and felt it flood in, swamping him with impossible to define sensations. He couldn't help the small whimper that escaped his lips at the accompanying pain the energy brought. He could hear screams and shouts of fear, and the sounds of panicked people running, but he ignored them as he gently laid his hands against the rough wood. He knew his body was enveloped in a glow and he could feel eddies and currents of the energy tendrils that curled and snaked about his body.
The paneling dissolved into a pile of dust at his touch, revealing the device beyond. Lucas took a deep breath to marshal his limited control over the power ... the job wasn't finished yet. He could see the timer on the device counting down the seconds till detonation; less than a minute left.
A blinding pain knocked the wind from his lungs, and his body was thrown sideways by an unseen force. The energy he'd been containing went wild, discharging itself into the first object he touched. Lucas could feel the concrete and steel reinforcements of the support pillar he landed against crumbling into dust, and he tried to crawl away from it. Pieces of stone and plaster rained down onto him, knocking him to the ground. A stone slammed into the back of his head and Lucas collapsed, dazed.
Dimly, he heard a shouted voice telling someone else to get out of the room, then another voice saying to leave someone behind. With dismay Lucas realized that people had been left behind... they hadn't all gotten out. Seeing double and unable to focus his eyes, Lucas crawled back to the bomb. He couldn't make out the display and had no idea how much time was left, but knew it couldn't be long. He tried to raise his power again, but for the first time since it had appeared it wouldn't come. Concentrating all his effort on it, he slowly felt it rise. Lucas cried out in pain, the power felt different this time, usually it filled him with an intense pressure, this time he felt as though it was tearing him apart.
As soon as he had enough energy to focus, he laid his hands on the device. He could sense the pattern of the explosive, and with every ounce of his will he distorted that pattern. In a moment, he had turned the deadly plastic explosive into something with the same consistency and potential danger as putty.
Collapsing back to the floor, Lucas inspected the wound in his shoulder. It was a mess. His blood flowed thickly from the gapping hole, and it hurt. Sitting slumped and bleeding, his hand clutched ineffectually over the wound, Lucas contemplated the blood. He wondered which would kill him first, the blood loss or would the returning security people shoot at him again when they came to investigate why the bomb hadn't gone off. He didn't really care any more, he'd known choosing to stop the bomb would mean his life, but he was glad he'd done it. He wondered sadly what the captain and the crew of the seaQuest would be told ... most likely that he'd tried to kill Senator Kelly. Would Bridger believe it? ... Why not, after all, he was just a mutant.
A flicker of movement beside him caused him to look up. He stared into the kind eyes of a man he'd never seen before.
"Oh hell, kid, let me take a look at that," the man said, kneeling down beside him to inspect the bullet wound in his shoulder.
"You're not afraid of me?" Lucas asked the man, confused when the stranger began to help him to his feet.
"No. Now, come on, I have to get you out of here before those animals come back," the stranger said, half-dragging, half-carrying him toward a concealed security door Lucas hadn't known existed.
"Why are you helping me?" Lucas asked, still unable to believe someone would take that kind of risk for him.
"You just saved my life, and I'll be damned if I let that Nazi pig, Kelly, and his goons kill a kid just because he's different," the man said, vehemently.
Lucas nodded, too exhausted to discuss it any longer. He tried to walk but didn't have enough energy left to do much good. "I don't want to die," he whispered softly, fading fast.
"It's not that far now ... you're not going to die. I promise. Just be brave and keep fighting just a little bit longer."
Lucas nodded and tried to stay conscious, but he was too tired to put up much resistance to the comforting darkness. He fell asleep the moment he felt his body being laid on the wide rear seat of a car.
He woke to find himself in a cheap hotel. He sat up alarmed, not recognizing his surroundings and having no memory of how he'd come to be there. Beside him, on a table, lay a note.
"You're going to be all right.
You have been asleep for a little over a week. I don't know if that is normal for you or not but you woke up for a short while last night and I knew you would be okay. So, I decided it's time I left.
I don't mean to be insensitive, Kid, but I can't help you any more. I have a family and if Kelly and the people who think like him knew I'd helped a mutant ... I just have too much to lose. I'm Sorry.
I've paid for this room for 2 weeks in advance. Stay here - get well and stay out of sight for a while. There's some food in the refrigerator and some supplies and medical stuff in the box near the door. I bought you a wallet and put as much money as I could spare in it ... it's also in the box. There are some fresh clothes there too, I hope I got your size right.
You're all over the news, Kid. They are blaming you for the bombing - saying it was an assassination attempt on Kelly. I don't know how they did it, but the footage of the bombing was altered ... they twisted it around, and made it look like you were responsible. It's pretty convincing, if I hadn't been there I'd believe you did it too. I don't know who did plant that bomb... but at least I know it wasn't you. I know that isn't much comfort.
I'm really sorry about everything. Take care of yourself and good luck. I wish I was brave enough to help you more, but I'm not."
The note was unsigned and Lucas realized he didn't even know the name of the man who had saved his life.
The realization that he'd actually survived slowly dawned on him and Lucas smiled. It didn't matter to him that the whole world hated him ... that was nothing new. He hadn't expected to live and he certainly hadn't expected to escape. As long as he was alive and free he figured he still had a chance.
It did hurt that the captain and crew of the seaQuest had been told he was a terrorist. More than anything, Lucas wished for Bridger to be with him, telling him everything was all right, and that he understood that Lucas had tried to do the right thing. Lucas didn't know what had happened, he'd tried to send the right message into the future, but some how that message had been corrupted. Lucas sighed, he wasn't even sure the captain cared enough to listen but, someday, he wanted to try to explain.
Wearily he got to his feet and shuffled into the small kitchenette, he was starving. Finding an apple, he took a bite, enjoying the sweetness of the juice. He sat cross-legged on the floor and began to catalogue the items the stranger had left behind for him. The wallet surprised him, there was almost 2000 UEO credits stuffed inside and Lucas let out a low whistle. One item caught his eye, and he smiled as he lifted the packet to examine it more closely. He had always wondered what he'd look like with dark hair.
***
AUGUST 2000