"The Trial of Jamie Madrox, Part I"
by Beastbot
(Author's Note: Just a bit of a fun, trivial bit regarding my fanfics—I've always thought that in the Marvel universes, DC is by far the best-selling comics company—in other words, there is no Marvel comics. So when Jamie talks about liking comics, he's not talking about reading the Avengers or Thor. Only Deadpool gets to get THAT close to breaking the fourth wall.)
"Hrrmh."
"I told you. You honestly think I would lie to you? I realize when I'm outclassed, you know. I'm not stupid."
"Urrrgghh..."
"What are you—"
Sinister was interrupted as a large stone brick near the center of the Mayan pyramid ruins levitated into the air briefly before being loudly shoved aside as Apocalypse made the appropriate gesture with his hands.
Wordlessly, En Sabah Nur made his way to the indentation that had been left in the ground by the huge stone, Sinister following curiously.
To Sinister's surprise, he found a small hole in the ground underneath the stone.
"Well. Will you look at that?" Sinister said. "It appears the mobs weren't quite as thorough as I had been led to believe."
"That brick is heavier than it appears," Apocalypse said absentmindedly as he bent over to look inside the hole in the ground. "It was infused with extra mass after I had my slaves implant it here. Bricks similar to it surround this small chamber below ground."
"…Wait, what? How exactly do you infuse something with more mass?" Sinister asked as Apocalypse went down on his stomach, reaching one of his hands deep into the hole and feeling around.
"Ah, it is still here," Apocalypse said, smiling as he stood up again, this time clutching a small, gray, diamond-shaped object with pulsing blue veins running through it.
"And what exactly is 'it'?"
"I am not in the business of answering questions—you are," Apocalypse said, pulling down the hood on his jacket. Reaching up, he pushed the diamond into his forehead, the object effortlessly (and apparently painlessly) melding with his flesh. "This is… something for later. Now, are all of my pyramids in such a… disheveled manner as this one?"
"You mean the Sphinx and the other two pyramids you used to try to force-evolve the entire population of this world? Yes, I should think so," Sinister explained. "You really think any government would get in the way of the huge mobs that tore apart the very artifacts that threatened their existence? To be sure, they were depowered, but for peace of mind they had to be destroyed. In fact, in the time since you, er… left… every pyramid in the world has been reduced to a pile of rubble. Even though, from what anyone could tell, none of the others you had anything to do with. They were just monuments of stone to dead gods. A tragedy, really—so many historical relics destroyed. But you could hardly blame the paranoia of the masses after what happened."
"Hrrrm. So you say that they discovered no others?"
"Of course not. …Are there others?"
"One," Apocalypse said, pulling up his hood again as he walked back down to the small H.Y.D.R.A. stealth jet waiting for them on the outskirts of the ruins. The vehicle's cloaking field was only barely visible under the light of the full moon. "If you follow my instructions to the letter and cease your relentless prattle, you may live to see it."
"I see," Sinister said, falling silent for a few moments before speaking up again. "So if I continue to do exactly what you say, you'll actually refrain from killing me after taking my entire organization hostage? How generous."
Apocalypse suddenly turned around, one of his eyes glowing red. Reaching out with his arm, he telekinetically pulled Sinister up into mid-air by the throat and began to squeeze.
"Understand this," Apocalypse growled, "Though I am partially depowered, you are still nothing to me. I need your organization right now, but not you. You may make things… easier… but if you continue to annoy me I will end you without a second thought. Understand?"
"Yes…. Lord… Vader…" Sinister choked.
Apocalypse clutched his hand tighter.
"Alright… alright!" Sinister said as his neck began to visibly collapse.
Apocalypse stood there for a moment, enjoying Sinister's suffering for a second before finally letting the former H.Y.D.R.A. leader drop to the ground, coughing and hacking. Such a crushing grip would have killed any human easily, but Sinister's healthy regeneration factor kicked in as soon as Apocalypse let go, though the albino Mutant still clutched his throat.
"Now," En Sabah Nur said, "Since the Sphinx and my primary pyramids are all destroyed, we must still lay low for some time. However, we will not be inactive—we will become the puppet masters of this world. Your existing organization will make this considerably easier."
Sinister opened his mouth to say something, but for once thought better of it and merely nodded.
"To gain the advantage I need I will require directing circumstances towards a certain end. The end result will lessen my enemies, and separate the wheat from the chaff."
"The wheat from the chaff… are you talking about humans and Mutants, or Mutants and other Mutants?" Sinister asked.
"Both."
"Ah. Miss Laurie Collins, I presume?"
The moderately tall, slender, blonde young woman in bellbottoms and a loose-fitting shirt imprinted with colorful flower designs merely stood there on the other side of the doorway, regarding Xavier and Ororo a moment before responding. Her circular tinted glasses kept her eyes hidden and her expression initially unreadable.
"…Yes. Yes, this is she," Laurie finally said hesitantly.
"Pleased to meet you. I'm Professor Charles Xavier," Xavier said, holding out his hand to shake hers. Laurie merely crossed her arms in response. After a few moments of awkward silence, Xavier put his hand back at his side.
"I know who you are, you know," Laurie said, absentmindedly running a hand through the bangs of her long hair, which nearly reached past her waist.
"I would imagine so," Xavier smiled. "The X-Men have been in the news… quite a bit lately. I would assume then, you know the reason why I am here?"
Laurie sighed. Xavier wasn't sure because of her spectacles, but given the tone of the sigh he wouldn't have been surprised if she had rolled her eyes.
"You're here because I'm a Mutant that recently moved to Bayville and you want me to join your club."
"…Well, it's a bit more than just 'joining our club', Laurie," Xavier explained. "We're here for you, after all. The Xavier Institute is all about helping young Mutants such as yourself, both in keeping you from persecution from those who do not fully understand us, and in helping you to control, and possibly grow, your natural Mutant gifts."
"Uh-huh," Laurie said, obviously not convinced. After another awkward moment of silence, she took off her tinted glasses before responding in full.
"Did it ever occur to you that there are Mutants who, I dunno, don't want to take sides? That we just want to live our lives? You say that we shouldn't be treated differently just because we're born different… well, I hear all you X-Men are treated a lot differently. A whole Mansion, a 'Danger Room' to fight in, uniforms, the works. To me that sounds pretty different from an average life."
"Well, much of that is more focused on training one's powers," Xavier said, trying to meet Laurie's blue eyes with his, but her gaze constantly shifted to avoid looking directly at him. "We are, of course, different from your average human being, and thus have different needs. But by learning to control our powers, I hope we can eventually blend in with humanity and have them accept us as equals."
Laurie's face twitched slightly at that last word, but Xavier continued: "Of course, if you do accept my invitation to join the Institute, that doesn't necessarily mean you need to stay there forever, if you find such a lifestyle doesn't suit you. For example, Ray Crisp, a recent student of mine, recently left to pursue a college degree in Texas."
"Gee, that's nice, but I'm pretty sure that if you already know where I live, that your Cerebral machine or whatever it's called also picked up that I'm already in college. So—"
"You don't necessarily need to stay at the Institute full-time," Ororo interjected. "You certainly have a lovely apartment. If you'd just allow us to come in for a moment, we could—"
"I'm. Fine," Laurie interrupted, the whites of her eyes starting to turn a dull yellow. "In fact, I have pretty good control over my powers. Let me show you."
Suddenly, Xavier and Ororo were both gripped with an intense, irrational fear. Neither of them knew why, but they knew they had to get out of here. Now.
Too scared even for words, Ororo launched herself into the air as fast as she could, tears of pure terror streaming down her face as she quickly zipped into the sky, higher and higher, faster and faster until she was a mere dot on the horizon.
Xavier screamed at Ororo incomprehensibly, somehow managing to eke out the words "No… no, take me with you!" before putting his wheelchair in a quick reverse from Laurie's doorstep—up until it hit the curb and tipped over slightly, Xavier falling out of his chair.
Laurie just chuckled as she watched the paralyzed, weeping man grapple at his chair ineffectually for a few moments with his arms before finally managing to shift his weight and get it upright again.
As he wheeled down the road as fast as he could, ignoring his car parked across the street, Laurie called out to Xavier in a sickeningly sweet tone, "Oh, and I almost forgot—thank you for invading my right to privacy with Cerebro! I really appreciate it!"
With about a dozen people staring at her, Laurie chuckled and shut her front door, the yellows of her eyes changing back to white as she did so.
Xavier was a couple blocks across town when he saw Ororo pull up on the street next to him, driving his car. Xavier quickly wheeled up to the car as she temporarily parked it on the side of the street and got out, a look of guilt on her face.
"Charles, I—I don't know what happened," Ororo said, choking back tears. "I just… suddenly I had to get away, and I'm sorry I left—I never should have—"
Xavier held up a hand to stop Ororo's apology. "Ororo, trust me, I understand. Remember, we knew about her powers before we met with her. Laurie can emit some sort of pheromones that rapidly change the moods of those around her into whatever she wants—anger, happiness, sadness, or—in our case—intense fear. I was gripped under the same spell."
"I just- I didn't know it could happen so quickly! Or that it could be so intense…"
"Neither did I," Xavier said, shaking his head. "Still, in retrospect, she is in college, so she's likely been dealing with it for at least a few years now. I should have expected that she was able to exert a fair amount of control over it. I just didn't think she'd be so hot-headed to use it against us, though…."
"Well, those… pheromones… wore off in about a minute or so. I flew back down and landed, making sure she was gone before I did so. Then, not seeing you, I just got in the car and drove around until I found you."
"Thank you," Xavier said as Ororo opened up the backseat and helped him into it before folding up his wheelchair. "I don't understand it, though. The girl moves here from out-of-state, and Bayville University is small, more of a community college—usually not a university one travels a long way to go to. I figured what with her being a Mutant and moving to Bayville, she was trying to get our attention—especially with all the Mutant disappearances lately, I figured she at least wanted to move here for some sort of protection."
"Well, perhaps she has a relative here that she knows," Ororo said as she closed the back door and got into the drivers' seat again. "You didn't do that thorough of a search on her background, you know."
"Well, of course," Xavier said. "I rarely do, precisely for reasons of privacy."
"I realize that," Ororo responded, "But going forward, we may want to know a bit more about the young people we're trying to recruit. With it being so chaotic lately, they might be suspicious of our motives—both because of the Mutant disappearances and because of the… incident a short while ago with Jamie. We're going to need to prepare a bit more than we did with, say, Kitty's parents."
"I think if nothing else, our encounter with Laurie has taught me that," Xavier replied, smiling sadly. "And of course, as much as we might wish otherwise, many Mutants simply will not want to 'take a side', as Laurie put it. They want to stay out of it, and perhaps make their powers as little a part of their life as possible. I hardly blame them, mind you, with all the fuss that's going on lately."
"Well, with the Registration Act coming up and all the disappearances, I don't think any undecideds will have that luxury much longer," Ororo said. "Whether they like it or not, they will need to choose which path they're going to follow."
"Yes," Xavier nodded. "And I certainly hope most of them will choose the right one."
"Alright, let's try this again. Your name, please."
"Jamie… Jamie Madrox."
*BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP*
Hank sighed as he pressed the button to silence the lie detector, shrugging his shoulders as Maverick glanced at him.
"Jamie, if you can't even say your name without the lie detector going off, your trial's… well, it's not going to look good," Maverick said. "I realize that lie detectors aren't the most trustworthy pieces of equipment, but that's what you're going to be subjected to at your trial tomorrow. And if you can't even answer the baseline questions right… it's going to make it difficult to convince any of the skeptics that you weren't the individual that killed all those people a month ago."
"I know… I know," Jamie said, burying his face in his hands. "It's just… I mean, I don't know if I'm the real Jamie. More than likely, I'm not… and then that means…"
"Stop right there," Hank interjected. "You could be the original Jamie. It's just impossible for us to tell without detailed H.Y.D.R.A. records—which, of course, were all destroyed when we left the base."
"Which is why we should be going after Sinister," X-23 interjected.
"X—Laura…," Maverick sighed, "We've been over this already. He left no trace of where he went, per the Canadian government's investigation of the ruins of the H.Y.D.R.A. main base. I've tried on my own to locate their remaining bases using hacking methods I learned there, but something's… different. I used to be able to at least make a little headway into their network, but their entire network algorithms, even the most basic underlying assumptions regarding their programming, have changed. They make the U.S. Defense Department's network look like it was the work of a caveman in comparison. Sinister must have hired once heck of a programming expert… Plus, I was imprisoned there so long I have no idea where the peripheral bases are anymore, since by their very nature H.Y.D.R.A. moves around often."
"This is why I suggested splitting our efforts," Laura said, crossing her arms.
"With all the madness going on right now, that's simply not doable," Maverick replied. "And what have I told you about attempting to take charge, Laura? Leave the decision-making to the instructors when it regards what the X-Men will be doing. That's the first term of agreement you accepted upon returning here."
Laura said nothing in reply, but her stern expression remained.
"Look, whatever," Jamie said. "The point is, I'm probably… probably never going to know if I'm the original Jamie. And since I'm never going to be sure, how can I answer that question calmly? I mean, with all the stuff H.Y.D.R.A. did to me, I barely even recognize myself in the mirror anymore. I look like I'm four years older, even though I'm not. People are going to have a tough time believing I'm thirteen."
"I understand your problems," Hank said sympathetically, "But you've got to somehow suppress your doubts for the time being until we can—"
"Hank, I think I might actually have the answer for this, if you'll allow," Maverick interrupted, "Even though the methods may not be to your liking."
"…Go ahead," Hank nodded.
"Alright, Jamie, look at me," Maverick said, taking a seat in another chair in the medlab and rolling it up until he was face-to-face with Jamie. "I realize this might be tough love, but having dealt with H.Y.D.R.A… well, unfortunately this is the way it has to work sometimes. I think you ought to seriously think about the ramifications of what happens if you are NOT, in fact, the original Jamie. What does it matter?"
"What… what do you mean 'what does it matter'?" Jamie said exasperatedly. "If I'm not Jamie, than my entire… my entire existence is a lie! Since every one of the clones was slightly different, than it means that my thoughts, my goals, the stuff I feel… it's not what the real Jamie would have felt!"
"But the real Jamie is, more than likely, dead. You are your own person. Just because you have Jamie Madrox's name but not his 'original' thoughts does not make you any less of a genuine person than if you were somebody named Jamie…Jamie Madison, or George Hofstadt, or Mao Ying. Just like everybody else on this planet, you have thoughts, fears, desires."
"I… I guess that's true, b-but… a buncha people that looked exactly like 'Mao Ying' or whomever, they didn't massacre people in the Midwest!" Jamie said.
"Yes, but we know YOU didn't massacre people in the Midwest, and that's a pretty good start," Maverick said. "We just have to convince the public—or at least the jury—of it."
"Now, let's try again," Maverick said, breathing out slowly. "Hank, turn on the lie detector."
"…Alright, it's on."
"Now," Maverick said, looking Jamie in the eyes, "Your name, please?"
Jamie sighed before responding. "Jamie Madrox."
*BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP*
"Sorry—sorry, I'm so bad at this," Jamie mumbled as Hank turned the machine off.
"Can I interject?" X-23 asked Maverick.
Maverick eyed X-23 for a moment before responding. "Alright… but realize you're giving advice, not orders."
X-23 nodded briefly before stepping forward and looking down at Jamie.
"Multiple, if you are unable to get over your lack of individuality—"
"Now, hold on, I wouldn't put it quite like that—" Hank protested.
"—then you need to learn to control your body's responses. You need to learn to lie."
"Wait, what? But I'll be under oath!" Jamie said.
"I am not saying that you will be lying in the conventional sense," Laura said, catching the glares coming from Maverick and Hank. "However, even though you are not comfortable in what you are saying, you will learn to control your body's telltale signs of anxiety and stress."
"I'm… I'm not totally sure what you're saying…" Jamie responded.
"Beast, please hook me up to the lie detector instead of Multiple," Laura asked. "Also hook up the equipment that monitors my heart rate, the amount of perspiration, and any data relevant to the matter at hand."
Beast glanced over at Maverick, who nodded, and they both did as Laura suggested.
Now, with Laura taking over Jamie's place in the chair while Jamie watched, she told Maverick, "Now. Ask me the question. Or any question."
"I see where you're going with this," Maverick smirked, "But I'll oblige for Jamie's benefit. Hank, are you recording everything?"
"Yep."
"Alright, then…. Your name, please."
"Allison Treacher," Laura responded. Though her demeanor was the same, she gave no visual signs that she had just lied.
Jamie and Hank both looked at the lie detector….which didn't show so much as a blip of abnormality.
"I don't see how her lying is going to…" Jamie began.
"You'll see, you'll see," Maverick responded, waving off Jamie before refocusing his attention on Laura.
"Alright, Miss Treacher, where were you last night at 6:30 P.M?"
"I was watching a rerun of 'Seinfeld' in my apartment at 3789 Riverwood Avenue, by myself."
The lie detector still didn't beep.
"Can you elaborate?"
"6:30 is my usual dinner time, since I get home from my job at Wal-Mart around six and am pretty hungry," Laura continued, not missing a beat. "I had just microwaved a frozen dinner and sat down to eat, when I heard a commotion out on the street and looked out the window facing Riverwood Avenue to see what was going on…"
"…So let me get this straight," Jamie said, it having taken him a while to pick his metaphorical jaw off the floor after Laura had finished the extensive questionnaire, all without any of the equipment hooked up to her showing any abnormalities at all. "In order to have chance tomorrow, I have to be able to do… that? She was trained, like, almost all her life in H.Y.D.R.A. to be able to do that!"
"Not quite that," Maverick said. "Again, you won't be outright lying. You just need to be able to control things like your heartbeat and brain waves in an interrogation setting. Because you've been so stressed out, even when you're telling the truth you exhibit the symptoms of someone lying."
"H-how… how can you do that?" Jamie asked Laura.
Laura waited a moment before responding. "I'm not completely certain. I have been trained to deal with these sorts of things for nearly as long as I can remember. However, it does seem to help that no matter what identity I acquire or story I fabricate, it seems more believable to the average person than my actual history."
"Isn't that the truth," Jamie muttered. "Well, it WOULD be, if people didn't see a bazillion Jamies invade this country a month ago on every single news outlet that exists…"
"Look, if we're going to succeed with this, you need to be able to tune that out," Hank said. "Christoph, I'm assuming you have at least some knowledge of how Laura acquired her abilities on this?"
"Indeed I do," Maverick responded, "And thank you, Laura, for bringing it up. I believe it may be the key here to helping Jamie out. However, Jamie, it's certainly not going to be easy. Even Laura had years of training, whereas you have one night. Of course, we aren't expecting you to be quite as good at it as Laura, but still… are you ready?"
"Like I have a choice," Jamie groaned, his shoulders slumping.
"That's not the attitude you need to have," Christoph frowned. "If you go through this with that amount of despair, you're not going to be able to accomplish anything. Now, are you READY to do this? Because—sorry to be harsh—but if you're not, then I'm not going to waste all night trying these tactics with you."
Jamie glanced at Laura. As usual her arms were crossed, her brow furrowed. But—for just a microsecond—he could've sworn he caught a glimpse of a reassuring smile on her lips.
Sighing and straightening out his shoulders, Jamie said, "Alright. I'm ready. Let's get this done."
"Very well then," Maverick said, smiling. "Laura, I'm going to need you in case I forget a few things. Hank, you should probably get going."
"Are you sure?" Hank asked quizzically. "I think it would be best for Jamie if I'm here, at least for moral support if nothing else—"
"Unfortunately, therein lies the problem," Maverick said. "I realize Jamie doesn't know Laura and I as well as he knows you, and he needs to be able to do this in situations that aren't comfortable."
"…I understand," Hank said. As he gathered up a few things and began to leave, he said back to Jamie, "Just let me know if you need anything. Good luck, Jamie."
"Alright," Maverick said once the door slid closed, "Jamie, what makes you happy? It can be a person, an event, whatever. You're going to need something to focus on, something that we can use as a sort of recall, a baseline 'good feeling' that we're eventually going to need you to think of on cue, no matter what's being asked of you."
"Uh… well, I really liked video games…"
"Close, but sometimes I understand video games can get frustrating. Your mind might drift to that. Something else, please."
"Um…."
Jamie almost opened his mouth to say "Rahne", but quickly stopped himself.
That kind of feeling probably isn't what he's looking for, either…
"Er, um… comic books?"
"Eh- alright," Maverick said, obviously not expecting the answer but accepting it nonetheless. "Now, I need you to focus on your favorite… comic book… story, the one that you thought was just fantastic from beginning to end. Laura, monitor Jamie's vitals, if you could, tell me what they're at…"
It had been a long, utterly exhausting night.
Jamie hadn't gotten a wink of sleep, but it wasn't like he had had a chance. Christoph hadn't been kidding—they really had been up all night, constantly asking Jamie questions, trying to train his mind and body. He had made some progress, he had to admit, but it seemed like near the end his vitals were low simply because he was so tired. Still, Maverick and X-23 had pushed him, kept him awake.
After all that training, it was hard to believe that the day was finally here, the trial almost upon them all.
It was a beautiful day, the sun shining brightly, not a cloud in the sky. It was a bit cool for early August but certainly not cold, and a bit breezy as well. If Jamie wasn't currently being driven up to the courthouse, he might have actually felt calm for a change.
But of course, he knew what was coming. And how much it would mean for so many Mutants beyond just him.
From what he had heard, Mayor Kelly was advising the prosecutors. Big surprise there. It was an unusual trial—usually, a crime like murder on this massive a scale would be judged by a military tribunal, but the public was quite interested in the trial, and given the general uneasiness with bringing a Mutant to a military base—or Washington, D.C.—the decision had been made to hold it at a local courthouse. At least all of the X-Men were going to be in the crowd—well, except for Jean, Jubilee, Paige, and Moonstar. It was currently their "turn" to have their shortened summer vacations, and given their upcoming marriage, Scott had also gone home with Jean to get to know her relatives better.
Oh, how Jamie had wanted it to be his turn… but of course, given the circumstances, he had needed to stay at the Institute until this whole trial business was over with. Of course, that was even assuming he would be allowed to go back home after the verdict…
His parents were both here, which gave him some comfort, but unfortunately neither he nor any of the X-Men were legally able to talk to them until after the trial. There was quite a bit of paranoia amongst the judge and jury about any of the X-Men using their psychic powers to implant false memories into anybody who had the possibility of being questioned by the prosecution, and so all of the X-Men had been kept largely in the dark about who was going to be taking the stand.
Despite the fact that Xavier had kept the mental block in Jamie's mind that prevented him from using his powers for the time being, the powers-that-be insisted that several large, muscular bodyguards in your typical black government suits and sunglasses escort Jamie to the courtroom. As soon as Xavier's car stopped at the entryway to the courthouse, a combination of protestors and news anchors practically accosted the vehicle, but the waiting bodyguards muscled them out of the way of the immediate vicinity while the local police grabbed some of the protestors who had broken through the barricades and handcuffed them, dragging them off.
As soon as the bodyguards opened up Jamie's door and escorted him out of the limo, a huge cacophony of sounds blasted into the vehicle. Jamie thought he heard Ororo—who was driving the vehicle—say something to him about keeping calm and that she'd be there shortly, but to be honest it was hard to care much.
It was even worse around the courthouse than it looked from the vehicle. In the short time that Jamie had a clear view of the courthouse grounds, he saw screaming protestors—from both sides of the debate—straining against the barricades set up on the edges of the street and the sidewalk leading up to the courthouse. Seeing that the person they were looking for had finally arrived, the news media personnel immediately began shouting questions and snapping dozens of pictures, Jamie having to close his eyes from all the sudden bright flashes.
It was then that the bodyguards began yelling something to the media—Jamie could only make out a few words here and there, given the cacophony that was assaulting his ears at the moment. Then he was pushed and pulled roughly by the bodyguards down the sidewalk—the bodyguards yelling at anyone who got a little too close, and then those people yelling back. Jamie felt a slight pressure on his head, and opened his eyes to discover that a black piece of cloth had been put over his head, presumably to stop the onslaught of pictures. It was a bit unneeded, honestly—what he could see from under the cloth was mostly just the legs of the bodyguards surrounding him from every angle. He doubted anyone could snap a good picture of him anymore regardless.
After about a minute—but what seemed like a lot longer than a minute to Jamie—they had finally managed to make their way up the courthouse and inside the main entryway, which the bodyguards slammed shut behind them.
Taking the piece of cloth off Jamie's head and tucking it in his pocket, one of the bodyguards motioned for another one to stay with him by the door while the rest escorted Jamie down the hallway and into the main courtroom. Although the windows were open a crack to let some of the air in from outside and cool off the room—which had apparently been built before air conditioners were invented—Jamie still could just barely hear the crowds from the front of the courthouse grounds.
Jamie breathed a sigh of thanks to the bodyguards before making for the defendant's table, where Hank, Christoph, Piotr, and a lawyer Jamie just barely recognized waited, Ororo presumably joining them all later. Xavier wasn't allowed into the courthouse because of his psychic powers. It was still before they were letting the jury, the press, or the approved passive attendees into the courtroom—both sides were discussing their strategies quietly amongst themselves. Thankful for the relative silence, Jamie walked nervously over to where the three instructors were waiting for him.
"Ah, Jamie," Hank said, patting his student on the back and urging him to sit down. "I know this is tough on you, but I believe with the combination of the emotional training Christoph put you through last night and our lawyer's strategy, we just may be able to pull this out."
Jamie sat down and listened as his lawyer and the other instructors discussed their plans with him, only half-listening. His mind was preoccupied on just what would happen if they were to lose this case, regardless of what strategy they all had.
"Your name?"
"Uh, Jamie Madrox, ma'am."
No beep resounded from the lie detector, much to Jamie's relief.
The trial had started without anything particularly unexpected happening. Most of the X-Men—as well as a good number of people Jamie didn't know that supported both sides—had filed in, along with about a half-dozen TV cameras, all having been pre-approved to attend the hearing while the protesting throngs and the mayhem that went along with them were kept outside. As each side made their opening arguments, Jamie focused his attention on the judge and the jury. The judge seemed to be genuinely unbiased as far as Jamie was able to judge, but quite a few members of the jury had permanent scowls on their faces before the trial had really even begun.
Not good.
"Your hometown?"
"Hartford, Connecticut."
"And, with the exception of a few months, where have you been living recently?"
"Uh... at the Xavier Institute. On Graymalkin Lane, here in Bayville."
Still nothing.
"Okay," said the lawyer representing the prosecution, Mayor Kelly- and by proxy the United States government- as she turned towards the stenographer. "Let the records show that the lie detector appears to be working—the questions to which we know the answers have been asked, the defendant has responded truthfully as far as we can determine, and there have been no abnormal readings."
"Now," the lawyer said, turning back to Jamie, "We do have confirmed reports that you were kidnapped a few months ago. Please tell us, in a fair amount of detail, how that came about."
"Alright," Jamie said, taking a deep breath. "It's, uh… it's a bit complicated, so… it's a bit of a story."
"I think we all have the time," the lawyer said, smirking.
"Uh, well… it all started almost half a year ago," Jamie began. "Y'see, somehow, a few months ago, I, er… well, I basically split into two."
"Could you clarify for the court what you mean? It's in the public record that your powers allow you to duplicate yourself temporarily. How was this 'split' abnormal, exactly?"
"Well, normally, my, uh… normal duplicates are basically just me. It's hard to explain, but the 'real' me is in control of them—we've never disagreed with each other, we've actually been able to communicate telepathically—see and hear what all of the other duplicates hear, y'know?
"But this other duplicate, he… he had a mind of his own. I wasn't aware I had even split initially, until he talked to me. Other... other versions of me started to appear too, ones with their own minds, but I was able to, er… absorb them back into myself. This one version, though, he kept insisting he was the real Jamie… and I honestly don't remember much after that. Apparently, from what we've been able to figure out after-the-fact, the organization the government's uncovered recently—the one called H.Y.D.R.A.- must've done something to me beforehand, caused my duplication to get all out of control. I apparently kept duplicating, though eventually Jean Grey, another of the X-Men, was able to get in our heads and shut off our powers temporarily. After that, although there were two of me, we were basically held in containment in the Mansion, our powers kept off—until about a month later, when H.Y.D.R.A. invaded the Institute in the middle of the night and-"
And right then, in mid-sentence, Jamie's worst fear came true.
*BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP*
Jamie stared in disbelief at the lie detector. He had been doing fairly well, but just in the past few moments, despite himself, he had started to get overly nervous, and he was sweating up a storm.
"I-I'm sorry," the lawyer smiled, raising her voice to make sure the courtroom heard her over the sound of the lie detector, "Could you please repeat that? It seems you may have gotten a few… details… wrong."
"I'm so sorry," Jamie said, "I'm just so nervous—"
"We all understand," the lawyer said, her tone clearly indicating that she didn't care one way or the other. "But you still need to continue and tell us what, exactly, happened to you those few months ago."
C'mon, Jamie, you can do this. Comic books…. Green Lantern, Wonder Woman, Batman… .c'monnn….
Jamie closed his eyes and concentrated for a few moments, and finally, the lie detector stopped beeping.
Jamie breathed a sigh of relief as he opened his eyes again and continued. "Alright… I think I'm okay. Anyways, H.Y.D.R.A. invaded the Institute at the night, cutting the power and managing to… managing… to…"
*BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP*
No! No, not again… Jamie thought, his face visibly reddening. He glanced over at Christoph, who was tapping on his own head, a motion obviously meant to remind Jamie about the techniques they had been practicing mere hours earlier.
I know, I know! Jamie wanted to scream, but it's not working anymore!
Jamie tried the same thing—thinking of things he liked, trying to get his body and mind calmed down again—but he knew it wasn't working this time. He was in full-blown panic mode, and he was sweating so much he could already feel his suit starting to get wet around the arm pits.
"I, uh… H.Y.D.R.A. infiltrated our Mansion, y'see," Jamie said, wiping the sweat off his brow. "There were… several agents, and one of them somehow, uh… knew… knew about me, and went down….. It was H.Y.D.R.A., okay? That thing's faulty… But anyways, it was this woman with a black circle over her eye, and she took both of us…"
*BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP….*
"What happened?" Christoph said as the jury left the room to reach their verdict. His tone was one of "whispered yelling", due to the quiet nature of the courtroom, even during the current recess.
"I… I don't know!" Jamie said, tears falling down his face.
The rest of the trial had been a disaster. Jamie had been a complete mess, the lie detector going off at nearly everything he had said. They had even tried to reset the lie detector by asking Jamie a couple more control questions—and he had been able to calm down enough for those. But as soon as the actual questioning started up again, so did the lie detector.
It wasn't merely Jamie, either—nearly everyone called up by the defense couldn't manage to keep themselves together past the first few minutes, while those called up by the prosecution had managed to compose themselves quite well, no matter how intense the questioning got.
"All those techniques, all those trials…" Christoph said, burying his face in his hands. "You were doing fine last night! It took a while, but we got you passing the test nearly one hundred percent of the time! Are you sure you did the techniques exactly like you practiced last night?"
"Yes!" Jamie cried. "Yes, yes, yes! But it's just… something about being up on that stand, I guess… it's such a surreal experience, you've got so many people looking at you, their attention on you… Hank knows exactly what I'm talking about!"
Hank's face would have been red were his skin not covered in blue fur. "I understand what you mean, Jamie… I've never been on the stand before, but something about being up there… I just freaked out in a way I almost never do. I guess the prosecution's questions really got under my skin. I nearly let the beast inside of me out… I had to leave that stand, before someone got hurt."
"Well, we'd better hope we've got one heck of a sympathetic jury," Christoph mumbled into his hands, still covering his face.
"Speaking of which," Ororo said softly, pointing up as the jury re-entered the courtroom.
"Uh-oh," Piotr said. "They have already reached a decision? This is definitely not good."
Ororo grabbed and held a trembling Jamie's hand firmly as the jury filed into the room, the tension palpable.
Finally, the jury's spokesperson stood up and addressed the judge.
"We the jury have reached a verdict, your honor."
"Is the defendant Jamie Madrox guilty or innocent?"
"We all unanimously believe Jamie Madrox is guilty of willful mass murder," the jury's spokesperson said, his eyebrows furrowing and his face reddening as he glared at the Mutant teenager halfway across the room. "He should be sentenced appropriately, and swiftly, to prevent any further calamities of this sort from occurring ever again."
To be continued…