Chapter Two

Pete Simpowicz was still having trouble believing his eyes. Girls like this just didn't casually stroll into Bennie's Pool Hall every day. Tall, red-haired, a real looker...and dressed so fine, in a green summer dress that just spelled "class". She wasn't from Williamsport, he knew that...a doll like this, he would have seen her around town somewhere. And she was so nice, so interested in him! She just smiled at him, and flashed those green eyes, and started a conversation so easily... Before Pete knew it, he was telling her all about the great hoopla yesterday.

"Oh, yeah," he said. "A whole bunch of us went up into the woods west of town. We had to, you see. There was such a commotion..."

"Really?" the girl asked him. "What happened?"

"Well, people started screaming over on Maple Street, by Momma Clarice's place. Some sort of monster had been seen trying to get food out of a trash can, if you can believe it! Well, that seemed kind of funny to me-you know-monster on Maple Street-just like that Twilight Zone episode-you know, 'The Monsters are Coming Out on Maple Street' "-

The red-haired girl just smiled appreciatively. Jeez-she was just so nice! "Yeah...well, anyway, there was a lot of confusion and panic. People said that it was the Hulk at first, and that scared us pretty bad. I mean, what could we do against the Hulk, you know? Then they said it was Frankenstein's Monster, or the Mummy, or the Wolf Man, or Fin Fang Foom, and nobody could figure out what or who it was, or even if anyone had ever really seen anything. But then there came a cry over to the west, on the edge of town-someone had durned well seen something heading off into the forest, moving vaguely south and west. We asked what it was, but no one could say-there were various descriptions, but they made no sense. So a bunch of us thought, well, maybe we ought to go up into the hills and take a look for ourselves. I mean, some of those witnesses were really spooked. No one said anything about this thing attacking anybody, or nothing like that. But nobody felt like taking any chances. I mean, they sure saw something, and in this world in which Hulks and muties and monsters are a fact of life, well, we did what we felt we had to do."

"That must have been very brave," the girl said, with a warm and encouraging smile. Pete puffed his chest up.

"Well, thank you kindly, miss. A few of us had had military experience, going back to the Big One...I missed that, but I might enlist in the Marines soon. I mean, it's a way of serving the country and all, get out of here for awhile-not that there's anything wrong with good old Williamsport..."

She smiled at him again, and without his quite knowing how, got him back to the point. "Yeah-well-a bunch of us tracked this thing through the woods. It didn't exactly try to hide its trail or anything. Every once in awhile, we could see broken limbs and even crushed rocks strewn asunder. Well, we knew we were dealing with something funny, that was for sure. We were getting more and more nervous when bang, just like that! This-thing-pops out from behind a rock and starts to attack! Well, we started shooting-naturally!-but I swear, the bullets just bounced off the thing! I started getting real scared right then, and I know I wasn't alone, that's for sure. And then-this thing just waves its hand, and lava started to flow from its fingertips! I swear to God! That whole clearing became a damned volcano! It was just like I dunno-the Human Torch, or Thor! We ran, and I'm not ashamed to say it. Yeah, we hightailed it out of there and back to town as fast as our legs could carry us. Joe-that's Joe Strunk, our sheriff-well, when he heard the story, he called the authorities higher up. We're hoping to hear from the Avengers one of these days..."

Pete shook his head. "Miss, I tell you-whatever that was, it wasn't human. Maybe a mutie, maybe some space alien like a Skrull...I dunno. But it sure wasn't human." She commiserated with his experience, showed that warm smile again, and suddenly Pete realized that she was gone. He hadn't even noticed her departure. How did she do that? He sighed. Pretty girl...he sure hoped he'd see her again some day.

"That's actually one of the more lucid accounts I've heard," Jean told her fellow X-Men back at the motel. They had rented three rooms, and were gathered together in hers now. "Have the rest of you heard anything more concrete?"

The four boys shrugged. "Miss Grey, modesty behooves me to reply in the negative," Hank said. "Much sound and fury, signifying nothing, as best as I can tell. Some sort of 'monster'-a chase through the woods-and an explosion of lava and fire."

"Mastermind," Scott sighed. "Well, the Professor told us he had been here. I'm just glad the Brotherhood seems to have gone away for now. That's a complication we don't need at this point."

Warren looked out at the day-the early rain had stopped, and it was misty and sticky. "If what the Professor said was correct, our quarry is heading north now. Towards New York state...how long would it take to get there by foot?"

Bobby shrugged. "Maybe three days. We're what, fifty miles from the border? More? Does it really matter what state we corner him in, anyway?"

Scott looked pensive. "If he gets that far away, though, we're not likely ever to run him down. He's probably scared, and certainly hungry, if he was raiding wastebaskets. The Professor wanted one of us in that general area-the New York border... Warren." He turned to the blond young Adonis, still wearing civilian clothes. "Would you care to get out of that harness and reconnoiter between here and the border? You can be our advance scout."

Warren merely smiled in reply, and went back to his room. A moment later, a figure in a black-and-yellow costume swooped above the motel, high above Williamsport, heading north. The others watched him go, until he was a speck in the sky, indistinguishable from the hawks that flew above the local forests.

"And the rest of us, Scott?" Jean asked, all business. In response, Scott brought out a large road map of Pennslyvania.

"Here," he said. "One of us will head up straight north, trailing Route Fifteen. Towards Blossberg and Mansfield. See what you can see, hear what you hear. Eyes and ears open. Another will go northeast, hugging Route Fourteen towards Canton. A third will go northwest, on Route Two-Eighty Seven and Wellsboro. And one of us will remain right here, in case our quarry circles back, into town or towards the south." He looked at them. "OK-I'll head north. Hank, you'll head northwest. Bobby, you'll go northeast. Jean, you stay here and act as our central control, in case he does circle back."

Jean was about to open her mouth to protest-she felt strongly that Scott was trying to keep her out of danger, just because she was a girl. But she thought better of it. His plan made sense, and someone had to remain. But she wasn't happy about it. Within five minutes, she was alone at the motel.

Frank Gianelli checked into the motel on the outskirts of Williamsport. He wasn't exactly sure what he planned to do here, but something-a reporter's hunch-told him that he was supposed to be here, and that something, somehow, would present itself. Meanwhile, he had his Bugle expense account to keep him warm. He deserved an Oscar for his performance in convincing the City Editor to assign him here, to chase his "how young mutants chose sides" story-a story that, in fact, he had a strong interest in. For reasons of his own.

He strolled into the office area of the motel, to get a Coke. Just leaving was a stunning young girl in a green summer dress and bright red hair. She smiled absently at him, and he nodded, holding the door for her. He sighed-just a bit young for him. But by God, you'd notice her in a million-!

Back in his room, he stretched out his maps of the area. He had to talk to various members of the mob who had encountered Maria in the woods. That it had been Maria he no longer had any doubts, if only because the descriptions of the "monster" in the press accounts sounded exactly like the monster in Sturgeon's "It", and he knew that Maria loved that story. He chuckled to himself. Who else but Maria would choose that particular creature to imitate, in scaring a bunch of human pursuers out of their wits? Still, he needed to talk to as many of those pursuers as he could, if only to salve his conscience that he was actually earning his pay.

The maps-which way would she go? The encounter had been southwest of town... North. He was sure of it. At least for awhile. But then... there was a large mountain north of the town. What would she do than? He looked at the map. North-and west. Yes, he was certain.

Well, Gianelli-what's your priority here? Earning your salary and expense account? Talking to the local yokels? Or Maria? He sighed. That was no question at all. He left his room, got into his car. He promised himself that he'd come back to town and do those interviews...

Maria was walking north, for some reason obscurely pleased with herself. The looks on the faces of those men, when the bullets just thwooped through her! She was striding at full speed, feeling strong, confident, able to take on anything that man-or mutant-could throw at her. She'd get these feelings, than plunge into deep depression just as easily. Was she a manic-depressive? God-who the hell knew what she was. Did any of that mumbo-jumbo apply to mutants at all? And cripes-if she didn't have a right to mood swings, who did? Anyway, she was going to enjoy the feeling as long as it lasted. She was going to enjoy something.

A large mountain blocked her field of vision. She paused. Should she head east, get to the area of the main road and continue north? Or cross the road there and go east? No-in that general direction lay New York City. She avoided even the temptation to go in the direction of home.

West, then. Cutting across the grain of the forest, something she was an expert at, she made her way up laterally though the foothills of the large mountain, now on her right. She sighed. She was hungry. She had barely gotten a few mouthfuls before the Torches and Pitchforks Brigade had spotted her. Well, she could last for awhile. She'd encounter some sort of civilization sooner or later, and get some food. Somehow. She shuddered at the thought of some of the things she had done to avoid starving-things involving capturing animals and cooking them over a fire. And once in a while, without a fire. Blessedly, those moments had been few. But they had occurred, now and again.

That was her life, these past four years since her mutation manifested itself. At least she had known what was happening to her, thanks to Frank. Before the X-Men and Magneto had become front-page news, so many mutants had no idea what they were, what happened to them at puberty. Maria wondered how many were killed-by their families, their villages, even by committing suicide... Probably a lot. She gave a silent prayer for their souls.

She wondered if she'd ever be tempted to go back to the carnival. In the last four years, that was the only place where she even felt close to any kind of acceptance-with her fellow freaks. At least she got three square meals a day. But in the end, she was too much even for them. But she wondered sometimes how they were doing, the people she knew-especially Gunther and Carmella. Her fellow mutants. And they didn't even know it then. Did they now? She would have given a lot to know the answer to that question.

Finally, the path wound down, slightly southwest. Still no sign of civilization. Ah well-as Mr Micawber would say, something would turn up. She sighed. She had always loved Dickens...

In a room somewhere, a figure stirred. The figure rose, and looked out through the window. They're all out there. Magneto, with his Brotherhood. Thinking he is in control. As always. Xavier. Thinking he is in control. Thinking that he is in a contest with Magnus, that the fate of the mutants depends upon their rivalry. A mutant Cold War. Odd, how that Cold War mentality seems to have entered into the very fabric of this world. But there are other factions, other power bases, than just Magnus and Xavier. There is Essex. There is Apocalypse. And that's just the mutants. Richards, Stark and the Avengers...so many. Not to mention, yes, the USA and the USSR.

The figure stared out into space, as if trying to see the entire world at a glance. No matter. The world will work itself out as it will. Right now, the girl is the important thing. A step at a time, a piece at a time. She is the key that opens the door to so much. And she doesn't realize it. She has no idea. Or does she? The figure stirred, as if considering something that it didn't entirely appreciate. Perhaps I am underestimating Maria Gianelli? Could she have some inkling? This is a disquieting thought. I must observe her more closely. Then I shall know.

The figure began to pace the room. And always, at the beginning and end of every consideration, there is Jean Grey. And I know she has no idea yet of her importance. At least there is time for that one. It should be years before she realizes anything, years before she senses anything but odd dreams and inchoate images. Yes, there is time. But I must use that time. And when her time arrives, I must be ready.

The room was dark, but the figure had no desire for any extra light. The darkness was soothing, helped the figure keep a steady temperament. Jean is looking for Maria. The entire X-Men are, of course, as is the Brotherhood. Maria is the key now to the Cold War between them. Is it a good thing, if Maria joins the X-Men? Well, good or no, it's probably inevitable. Then Jean and Maria...they shall of course become intimate friends. And that will have its own ramifications, God knows. The figure returned to its chair, and shut its eyes. I cannot tell. If the course of action goes in the direction I suspect it will-the direction it almost certainly has to go-well, I cannot tell, and that is all there is to it. Meanwhile, the pieces are all on the board-Maria, Jean, the X-Men, the Brotherhood, Magnus, Xavier-even the girl's brother. Who, God knows, has his own importance. How the game will develop, I cannot say. It is still early. But that the game will be interesting, I have no doubt. The figure chuckled. It could hardly wait.

As the day went on, the sun peeped from behind the clouds. It remained warm and sticky, but Maria had experienced worse, so she ignored it as best she could. The mountain gradually began to recede on her right. Ahead were rolling hills and dark, impenetrable forest. This was a park or national forest or something, she vaguely recalled...a good place to lie low, maybe for a few days. And if it was a park, maybe she could swipe a picnic basket or two. Like Yogi Bear. Well, it wouldn't be the first time.

The ground she was walking on gradually sloped downwards as she headed west. Soon she could see a small valley ahead of her, going from north to south across her field of vision. A small road hugged the hillside. There were no cars to be seen, but she decided to wait as she approached the road. She didn't want to take even the chance of encountering any humans right now.

She shut her eyes, suddenly aware of just how tired she was. Tired in ways she couldn't remember being, physically, mentally, emotionally. Even her mutant stamina-one of the few blessings she'd gotten out of it all-had its limits. Just how long, she wondered, would this last? Her wandering the countryside, eating when she could, keeping out of the way of humans-and, increasingly, mutants? How long before someone or other found her and put her in a cage? Or tried to... She knew one thing. Anyone who tried to do that-to make her a specimen, a possession-risked their lives. She would fight to remain free. Even if "freedom" meant only the right to keep doing what she was doing. There was nothing else she could imagine, no positive goals. That had been denied her, and she knew better than to hope that it would ever change. (She suddenly seemed to hear a car approach. Yes, it was certainly there. She stretched out behind an oak, and waited for it to pass.) She was certain she could defend herself well against any enemy. Though she had never engaged in a "super-hero fight", she could-as the phrase went-take care of herself. And she certainly had no intention of fighting fair.

She took some deep breaths, in and out, in and out. Vaguely wondering what direction she'd go when the car passed and she crossed the road to climb the next hill. "Why did the mutant cross the road?" She chuckled, but could come up with no punchline. She suddenly realized that she hadn't in fact heard the car pass. She stiffened. What was that sound?

Peering around, she saw a car parked alongside the road, still a couple of hundred yards below. And yes-there was definitely a human figure walking alongside the road, looking first southwards into her stretch of forest, then across the road northwards. And was he shouting something? Yes-what was it...

A faint voice, but very clear. "Maria! Maria! Are you here?"

The world exploded, the sun went out, atom bombs went off inside Maria Gianelli's head. This was impossible. Frank! She started to shudder, the stress and shock overwhelming her. The voice continued to call, more insistently now, and there could be no more doubt. It was her brother Frank. Maria began to cry. She couldn't help it, she began to sob and couldn't control it. She fell to her knees, her head in her hands, and the tears came and came. She couldn't even tell what she was feeling. Rage, sorrow, hatred, love, joy-? All of them and none of them. Many years of feelings, of emotions so intense she couldn't describe them to herself, came to the surface. Her emotional binge was so intense she wondered if she was dying. Could this be death at last-her death, her long-wondered about mutant death? And was that relief she was feeling, if so?

Her binge lasted a long time, she didn't know how long. Finally, she began to settle herself and leaned up against the oak. She didn't hear Frank's voice any more. Had he gone? And what did she think, if he had? She didn't know anything right then.

There was a shadow above her. Her eyes were still full of tears, but she wiped them away with her hand and looked up.

My God!

Frank looked down at her, a slight smile on his face. "You were making enough of a racket to wake the dead, kid." He had his hand out, to offer her a lift to her feet.

She looked at him, eyes unblinking. Every nightmare she had ever had these past four years was coming true right now. She made some sort of noise in her throat, shook her head, slowly at first but faster and faster, until it was moving like a metronome sped up to some extravagant pace.

"No," she croaked. Then, slightly more normal: "No. Go away. For God's sake, Frank, go away!"

Frank squatted down. "Now why would I want to do that, kid? After all the trouble I've taken to find you?"

"You're not real!" she cried. "Nothing in that life is real! It never existed! God, do I have to tell you that, Frank? You were there! You know!"

He gently and tentatively put his hand out to her, touched her hand softly. "I know, kid. I know. Maria-I don't blame you for anything you've felt these past four years. You've earned every single emotion you've experienced. And more. But there are things you need to know. After that, if you tell me to get lost, I will. But please-the last few months have been crazy, kid. And they explain so much. I know you can't forgive. I wouldn't, in your shoes. But maybe you can understand. And maybe, for now, that'll be enough."

" 'Understand', Frank?" she said, suddenly, almost terrifyingly, on her feet. "Understand what? Oh-I understand the rejection of my family when I started to change. After all, that's what families of mutants do. It's practically a cliche, isn't it? Along with the Torches and Pitchforks, and the fear and hatred of 'ordinary' people. Well, that's what the script says, and we can't go against the script, now can we?" Her voice suddenly got thick and her rage almost choked her like smoke. "By God, no! The script must be followed at all costs. Naturally I'd become an outcast. Naturally. Even naturally, Daddy would try to make a buck out of me by exhibiting me in a carnival as a freak. That's what he'd do, isn't it?"

"Maria-"

"Oh! Well, maybe I've been a bit too tough. No Torches and Pitchforks for Daddy! No, he saw his chance and he took it! Well, why would I be any different from anything else he encountered in his worthless life! Tell me, Frank-did Daddy ever pimp you out to a male brothel?"

Frank looked like she had struck him across the face. "That's a low blow, kid."

"Is it, Frank? You tell me. Honestly. Do you think he was incapable of it?"

Frank looked at the ground. "I don't know. Maybe not."

Maria shuddered again. "No, 'maybe not'. And he sure knew what to do with me! Though I do have to credit him for one thing-that was the last time I got three squares a day. But it got too much. I was too much a freak even for them. The customers were getting too scared. So Daddy-"

Frank shook his head. "Kid, I swear-if I had known what he was planning-"

Maria took Frank's face in her hands. "Maybe you would. Maybe, Frank. I could never really figure you out. You were away at college when this happened, I know..."

He snorted. "Bowdoin is only in Maine. I should have been paying more attention. When I learned you were a mutant-"

She smiled at him, almost a tender smile. "At least you knew what I was. So many mutants and their families didn't."

He shrugged. "I heard a lecture by a guy in a wheelchair named Xavier. He knew his stuff. If everything hadn't happened so suddenly at the end there, I might have taken you to him. Maybe he'd have known what to do. Something. Anything."

"That's sweet, Frank. Really. But what could he-what could any human-have known?" And as suddenly as that, Maria Gianelli was crying like a little girl, and Frank's arms were around her. Her sobs wracked her, until she finally shook her head angrily.

"Dammit, no. I'm tough. I don't need tears."

"Tell me about it," he said, smiling at her, that damned knowing smile of-blast it!-an older brother. She returned the smile, almost against her will.

"That was so strange, Frank-that crying binge. You know what it was? We were talking-I was talking to you-and I suddenly realized, I wanted to. I realized that I actually missed my family. Or at least, I missed you. Not-"

"Not Mom and Dad," Frank said softly.

"No. Not Mom and Dad."

"Well, kid-it's like I said. If I had known that he was planning on selling you-like an animal-away from the carny...to that Essex character..."

She shuddered again, the memory still so clear in her mind. "God, Frank. If you could have seen him! So creepy- He talked. Oh, he loved to talk! About everything-but especially evolution. And about his plans for me, and my role in evolution. It was as if he wasn't actually doing what he was doing-as if he wasn't buying me like a slave! And Daddy-oh, he was all smiles. Essex was paying him a fortune for me. This was better than the carny any day! I had outlived my usefulness there. But this was his big pay-day. His strike of a lifetime."

Frank shook his head. "God, kid...I know something of what you must have been thinking. A little something. Because when I heard later, I wanted to kill him."

Maria looked Frank full in the face. "Well-maybe that runs in the family, too."

He returned the look in full measure. "Mom... Kid-I know something now I didn't then. This is why I've been looking for you. So that you'd know."

" 'Know'?" Maria said, her voice savage. "Just what is there to 'know', Frank? That my own mother tried to kill me? In a flood of obscenities? If I hadn't grabbed the knife..." Maria stopped then. That moment was so imprinted on her memory... "Mom had never said much to me, Ever since I can remember. She let Daddy do the talking-which God knows, he was good at. She did her duty-she dressed me, fed me, washed me. But it was almost as if she was a robot with me. I know she loved you. I saw her. But me..." Maria shrugged. "It was like I wasn't really alive or something."

"I always wondered," Frank said. "I really did, kid. And I always tried to make it up to you as best I could."

"Yes," Maria said, suddenly, impulsively grabbing his hand. "You were a brother to me, Frank. Maybe my only link to sanity. And when my mutation started becoming apparent...Mom..." She shuddered from the memories. "It was as if I wasn't there. Invisible. My God, Frank-I would have preferred hysterics and denunciations as the daughter of Satan. But she was just so-quiet."

Frank lookled thoughtful. "I know, Maria. I know. I was at school, and only got a glimpse of all this-but that was when she started to be lost to us. When she went-over the edge."

Maria suddenly felt a deep sadness. She felt an intense longing that they, all of them, could live in a world where people could be happy and tolerant and forgiving of everything-mutations, past hatreds, past crimes. But that world didn't exist, could not exist. Even this-this brief talk with her brother-would end soon. And it would be back to the forests and the picnic baskets. Whenever he was finished saying what it was he was going to say...

"I don't know if she could have killed me," she said quietly. "God, Frank-I don't know if I can die. Or if so, what it would take." She looked into his eyes. "Isn't that something? That would be a blessing for anyone else. But it's my curse. Maybe I'll walk the earth-forever."

He took her hand. "You're never alone, Maria. Not if you don't want to be. Please-know that, if you know anything."

She smiled, and removed her hand from his. "I know, Frank. Maybe I hadn't known that, or forgotten...but I know. But look at me!" She laughed as she raised her arms over her head. "Do we go to the ballpark together? Or shopping? Tell me, Frank!"

He shook his head. "I don't have any answers, kid. I wish I did. But I don't want you to feel that you're totally cut off from the world. You're not."

She leaned over and kissed his cheek as carefully as she could. "Bless you, Frank... That day. The carny had kicked me out. I was too freakish, even for them. I was about to be sold into slavery to a lunatic in love with the sound of his own voice-for purposes I couldn't imagine. I was only thirteen. Daddy was telling Mom all this. And then-" She looked off into a distance that only she could see. "The explosion. After all those years of no reaction at all to me. The obscenities. The knife." She blinked away some tears. "I managed to get it out of her hand-after all, I was so much stronger than she was. But I was panicking, already terrified and overwhelmed by everything-my mutation, the carny, my being sold. I ran. And ran. And ran. I know that this Essex person pursued me. I even know that Daddy helped him." She was quiet for a moment. "Daddy helped him." She shook her head slowly. "No. No more of that. I avoided Essex, avoided all pursuit. I'm sure I'm not a target any more. I just know. And that's all there is to my life these past four years." She looked at Frank. "And now, you have something to tell me? Something that won't make me 'forgive', but will help me to 'understand'? I'm all ears, Frank. Tell me, by all means!"

Frank listened to this speech quietly. "Maria-as I said, I wouldn't forgive if it had been me. I've spent four years in hell. I've made abortive attempts to look for you-but how was I even to start? And I had classes, and my career... I've been stymied by just about everything. But I did cut off all contact with Mom and Dad. I got everything out of him-and I wasn't gentle about it, either. But I just cut them off, cut it all out like a cancer." He licked his lips. "And that's part of my news- Maria. Mom and Dad are both dead."

Maria heard this, than suddenly had a convulsion. She found herself in Frank's arms, again emotionally pouring out everything the last four years-the last seventeen years, her whole life-had bottled up inside of her. "How?" she finally asked.

"Dad died of cancer two years ago," Frank said. "It was lung cancer-you know how he always smoked. I don't know too many details, but apparently it wasn't an easy death, even for a cancer victim. He had money problems, and refused to come to me for help. Or anything else." Frank paused briefly. "I only learned of it towards the very end, when one of his doctors disobeyed him and called me. I went to see him, but he was in very great pain, and we didn't have much to say to each other. He died very soon afterwards."

"And Mom?" asked Maria. "Where was she?"

"In an institution," he answered bluntly. "After her attack on you and your disappearance, she broke down totally and had to be put away." He licked his lips. "She didn't even know Dad was dead. I mean, they told her-but she just shrugged it off, as if it wasn't real, or didn't matter. She was in a world of her own."

"So what happened to her?" Maria asked.

"A few months ago," Frank said. "Maria-"

"Yes?" she asked, hardly breathing.

"She committed suicide," Frank said. "She got hold of a pair of scissors from somewhere. A sink-"

Maria sagged against the tree. "I see. Did she have any last words? Anything she wanted to tell the world? Or even me? Anything?"

"-No," Frank said slowly. Maria picked up his hesitation.

"What is it?" she asked him urgently. "Frank? What is it you're trying to tell me?"

He stared at the ground. "Kid-this is why I've been trying to reach you. This is why I've been so frantic- You have to know. They did an autopsy. There had been-incidents-at the hospital. Nobody was sure. But some people suspected..."

"Suspected what?" Maria asked, beginning to get flustered. "Frank-what are you trying to tell me?"

He looked her straight in the eyes. "Maria," he said, "Mom was a mutant, too. Just like you."

Charles Xavier continued watching the grid of northern Pennslyvania. Cerebro would let him know if Mastermind, or anyone else, returned to the area. The unknown mutant was heading west. The X-Men were generally bearing north, and Warren was flying far north, up by the New York border. Jean remained in Williamsport. He sighed. He had made a conscious decision not to follow their progress mentally, unless in case of emergency. They would be graduating soon. He hoped that Scott would remain with the team, and be its field leader. He hoped he could convince the boy to stay, and not leave the team and seek treatment for his eyes, as he had indicated he might. There was so much potential there... And not just as an X-Man. Charles smiled to himself. He wasn't blind. The way Scott and Jean looked at each other, when they thought the other wasn't looking. Well, if they didn't notice, he certainly did.

He knew his own feelings for the girl were hopeless He was almost-not quite-old enough to be her father. And he was familiar enough with psychology to know that this was one of the most basic of syndromes-the Professor and his student. He shook his head sadly. He thought of Moira, and Gabby, and Amelia. Beautiful women, all of them. But Jean was going to be different. Jean seemed to him almost Love personified, Femininity personified. He looked into his mind. Was that romanticizing the girl? Was he behaving in fact like a Romantic poet, thinking of her as his Anima? No, he thought after a moment. No, Jean was different. Her capacity for love might be her true mutant power. And Scott-he had so much love inside of him. He didn't realize it, would have been mortified if he had an inkling of what Charles thought concerning him. But it was there-and Jean of course knew this, sensed it so completely with that terrible sincerity of youth.

Charles laughed to himself. He realized that his feelings for Jean were entirely Platonic. But they were none the weaker for that. She was special. And he had such strong intimations regarding her sometimes...he didn't know what they meant, or even if they had any real significance. But he felt deep in his soul that somehow, in some way, Jean had some extraordinary destiny. And perhaps, that the school, the X-Men, his role-all of it-was merely the means with which she'd fulfill that destiny. Meanwhile, though, here was another mutant who needed help.

What was that?

My God, a psychic scream of pain, so intense- Yes, it derived from the Williamsport area. What was it? He sensed Jean's thoughts, her confusion and agitation. No-she wasn't the source of the scream. But it had affected her. My God...it's triggered her own psychic powers. Charles attempted to contact her at once.

Jean Grey sat in the motel room, bored, a bit resentful to be sitting here doing nothing while the boys were out having God knows what adventures. She was going over every word Scott said concerning their plans-partly because she wanted to be prepared in case something came her way, but mostly, she acknowledged to herself, because she simply liked thinking about him and pondering what he said and did. Was there anything in what he had said to her that might indicate he liked her-as she wanted him to? She went over and over his words, but couldn't make up her mind.

It was in the middle of this pleasant occupation that it happened. Something hit her mind like a bomb-a terrible cry of pain and despair. Jean felt staggered. The psychic cry just went on and on, and she was unable to filter it out-it just washed over her, and she was helpless to do anything but endure it.

Annie Richardson. Suddenly, the moment of her friend's death was with her. She had tried her best to overcome the trauma of that experience, to integrate it and live her life. But this terrible psychic call out of the wilderness-this was comparable in power to that. It was the call of a soul in agony.

Jean!

It was the Professor, calling from Westchester. So he had heard it too-! Are you all right?

She paused. Was she all right? That awful psychic scream was still there, but now a little less intense, and she was able to focus on herself, her reactions. I think so, sir, she replied. But that horrible cry-! You heard it?

I did, Jean. It came from our quarry. I know that much. Whoever he is, he's in terrible pain and trauma. We must reach him as soon as possible. Wait there until the others get back, and you'll all go and find this poor mutant. I think I know where he is-west of you, about fifteen miles.

Jean thought. No. No, Professor. I don't think we should waste a moment. I can get there with my telekinesis well before any of the other X-Men can arrive. She paused for a moment. Professor? I have a feeling that this is important-that I should be doing this. Please-trust my judgment. I'm begging you.

There was a pause. Then: Very well, Jean. If you feel this strongly about it, it shall be as you say. But I'll be with you psychically-

No, she thought again. Professor-I believe I need to be totally alone here. I'm not sure why, but I just do. Be open for a psychic contact if I need you. But somehow, I'm sure I won't. Professor-I know this sounds strange, but I'm certain I'm right.

There was a longer pause this time, while Jean was changing into her uniform. Very well, Jean. I don't entirely understand this, and I think there might be danger. But I've trained you all to face danger. And it's time, too, that I trusted your intuition. It shall be as you say.

Thank you, Professor! Jean called out to him. She was already at the door of the motel room, racing out into the afternoon. She didn't care who saw her. She levitated herself over some houses, heading due west towards the forest, wondering as she went if she'd create another "Hulk" sighting.

She didn't need directions. She wasn't getting any more psychic cries-that episode apparently was over, much to her relief. But she knew where it had originated from. She knew where to go, as much as she'd know where the sun was on a bright day if her eyes were shut. And she knew some other things, too-things she hadn't told the Professor. She knew the mutant they were searching for was a girl. She knew that this girl was scared, lonely, miserably unhappy, though she put up a tough facade. And she knew that this girl's whole life was on a razor's edge, right now. Jean tried to get more speed into her telekinetic travel, as she entered the woods.

Charles Xavier looked sad. Jean Grey had just become an adult. She had seized the initiative on her own, overruled him, and taken responsibility in an emergency. He let out a slow breath. This was what he had trained her for, what he had trained them all for. But there was a sadness within him all the same. She might not realize it for some time, but she was no longer a student. Not in the way she had been. And that, ultimately, was more important than anything else that might occur this day. He kept his mind open for her call, as he promised, but did not follow her progress towards the mutant.

Well-there was still much to do. Scott? he called out mentally to his first student. The mutant we're searching for has been located...

Maria just looked at her brother. "Huh?" she asked stupidly.

Frank just nodded slightly, looking very sad. "It's true, kid. No doubt about it. Mom was a mutant. Don't you see how much this explains?"

How much it explained. Maria almost laughed. By God... Of course. "And while I was growing up-while we were both growing up-she must have been wondering every second..."

Frank nodded. "Sure. Whether we were, too. I got through all right-I'm stubbornly, solidly human, kid. But I think she was worried about you from the start. And then you turned thirteen-and, well..."

"And I turned into what I am, you mean." He just nodded. "Yeah. Every fear, every guilt Mom ever had suddenly came true in the form of me. She must have felt herself in hell."

"Which maybe explains why she reacted as she did," Frank said. "Her hysteria, her exaggerated religious symbolism. Mom was always a devout Catholic. Being a mutant must have been nightmare enough for her. But to have given birth to one..."

"Mom must have felt that God was giving her the double-whammy. Piling it on," Maria said softly. "No wonder she went over the edge. And no wonder she always felt so robotic around me. She knew right away that you weren't a mutant, and that I was. " Maria stared off into the distance. "She must have felt as if she were already damned in life."

Frank gently took Maria's hand-as much as he could, in any event. "As you say, Maria-it drove her over the edge. Your mutation. And-well-"

She laughed. "Well! I look enough like something crawled out of hell, don't I?"

Frank smiled wryly. "Well, as long as you mention it..." The two of them laughed heartily-like brother and sister, in fact. Maria suddenly frowned.

"Wait a minute. You said there were 'incidents' at the hospital? What sort of incidents? Do they know what her mutation actually was?"

Frank looked embarrassed. "Oh, yeah... Well, kid, the long and short of it was that things would just sort of disappear when Mom was around. And show up later. Sometimes returned to where they had been before. And sometimes-not."

" 'Disappear'?" Maria asked. "What do you mean, disappear?"

"What I said," Frank replied. "It started with little things-gloves, pencils, cups of water...they'd vanish, and then show up later. That could be chalked up to absent-mindedness on the part of the patients-it was a mental hospital, after all. But then it got more involved-pillows, books, TV sets... No one knew what was happening. They thought someone there was a kleptomaniac. Finally, a piano vanished from the common room and appeared three days later in the middle of the kitchen. Mom always seemed to be around when this happened, so they were suspicious of her-though they had no idea of just what it was they were suspicious of! In any event, they had police and all sorts of people around-and that's when Mom died. When she..."

"Yeah," Maria said. "I think she felt that they were about to expose her as a mutant."

"That's the general feeling," Frank said. "I agree."

"But what happened to those things?" Maria asked. "What exactly was her power?"

"Well, it was tough to find an expert," Frank said with a smile. "But finally, one of the hospital administrators contacted an old colleague of his-a Stephen Strange, who's retired from practice. But he seemed to have some sort of insight into this kind of thing- Anyway, he came to the hospital, and looked around, and he finally said that this was a scientific matter, and not a mystic one. For whatever that's worth! Anyway, to make a long story short, he said that Mom had the mutant ability to send things off into some sort of pocket universe of her own, and return them."

Maria suddenly had a vague memory-from when she was very young-a dark, enclosed place-a feeling of total isolation-of crying for her mother, begging to be "brought back"-

"Oh, my God!" she cried. "Frank-Mom-"

He smiled at her. "You, too?"

"Oh, no!" She looked at him. "Oh, Frank-! You, too! How-how could she! Both of us! What if she had left us there?" Maria suddenly started to cry again, the feeling of abandonment stronger than ever. This, though! This was the ultimate abandonment. That her mother was capable of doing this to them-for even one second-

She felt her brother's arms around her. "It's OK, Maria. I mean it. It's OK. We have to try to understand her, what she was, what she did. Science and religion both took direct aim at Mom, and both hit her in the heart. She fell beneath the blows."

Maria stopped crying. "I guess so," she said after a moment. "Frank-I need to digest all this. I do. But you have to get out of here. It's dangerous for you."

"To hell with that-"

She broke him off, put her hand close to his lips. "No, Frank. No. Frank-I feel more alive right now than I have in many years. You've done so much for me, this past hour or so- But it will have to be enough for now, OK? I do need time to digest. And you are in danger now. Just yesterday, Magneto's Brotherhood of Mutants made an attempt to corral me. They might try again at any moment. And that will mean that the X-Men are on my trail as well. It's just too dangerous to be around me right now. You're just too much of an innocent bystander."

Frank frowned. "Maria-I'm not going to lose you again, when I've just found you."

"And you won't lose me," she said, smiling. "Frank-I promise you that. But the next move has to be up to me. I'll be in touch one of these days. I won't forget you. I promise. But you have to listen to me right now. I can't be worrying about you if the Brotherhood is around, scouting for me." She paused. "Frank-I know you care about me, and mean well. But believe me when I tell you, you can't really understand what I am now. What being a mutant is. I do. And I have to be able to deal with this in my own way."

He stared at her for a long time. "Promise me you'll be in touch, kid?" he asked finally, love and warmth in his words.

"Of course."

He stared at her for another moment, then kissed her forehead. "OK, Maria. That'll do for now. I know you hate long farewells-so do I. Be well. I love you."

"I love you, Frank," she said, and he nodded and turned, heading down the hillside towards his car. She watched him get in and turn around, heading in the direction he came. She shut her eyes. What was she feeling right now? She didn't know. Would she ever? Did she want to cry, and if so, what kind of tears? And just what did she do now? Where could she go? How did she avoid the Brotherhood and the X-Men?

She thought furiously. When it came right down to it, while this had been an emotional catharsis, she was still back where she had been. It seemed to her that nothing could be the same after seeing Frank, and hearing what he had told her. And yet, things basically were the same. Mom- No. This wasn't the time to think of that. That could come later. My God! It had been so dark there. The ultimate playpen. Maybe that was how she regarded it? Maybe it was no big deal. Just a convenience.

"No big deal," Maria said to herself out loud. "No big deal." She laughed, and the laughter had an edge of hysteria to it. Mom. I have to think of everything differently now.

Well, what did she do now? Still head on towards the state forest? She guessed so. But still-something should be different now in her life...

What was that? She turned around suddenly, looking east, the direction she had come from. There was something there! Feeling a pang of dismay, she started to run down towards the road when she heard a voice call out: "Please! Don't run! I mean you no harm!"

Maria stopped in her tracks. She had been caught. She knew instantly it was a mutant. Brotherhood or X-Men, did it matter? It had been a feminine voice-did that mean-?

Yes. Coming out of a thicket of evergreens came a girl dressed in an X-Men costume, red-haired and wearing a mask. She looked at Maria and froze.

"Hi," Maria said, smiling fiercely. "You're Marvel Girl, right?" She put out her hand. "Pleased to meet you."