Chapter 7: Choiceless

                Bruce sighed and picked up his wineglass. "I am afraid we'll have to implement phase two of Project: Mutant Solution early," he said to the five men sitting around the table in his penthouse office. "My target has not yet come in, and I'm getting impatient."

                Bruce Garrett Senior put his glass down. "Son, are you quite certain you want to do this? It's going to require me to call in every favor with the city police that I have to accomplish this."

                "Of course I'm sure, Dad," Bruce snapped. "Amanda has defied me long enough. And it wasn't like I got the information on her mutant state illegally; an entire airport full of people saw her running around flaunting those things on her back, and flaunting her new husband. Jason here is willing to vouch for my whereabouts, as are the rest of the FOH. Even if someone did listen to her pathetic whining about my excision of her wings, she won't be taken seriously." He sighed. "I can't believe she left me for that big blue monster."

                Bruce, his father, Jason Frank, the Mayor, and one of his father's 'friends' were sitting around the conference table in Bruce's penthouse office, discussing Amanda's non-appearance at the clinic. Bruce had had thousands of visitors; but few of them had actually opted to take the serum; and even fewer mutants survived it. Bruce knew he should hook the mutants to an IV feed, but didn't feel like putting out the extra money for the medical supplies necessary for everyone. He did it only for those mutants whose support he could use later; important, well-connected people who were 'closet mutants', and so 'unimportant' mutants died. No one knew about this; the fourth man at the table was the head of the local crematory; Bruce was paying him a hefty fee to reduce the bodies to ashes.

                He had paid one of the survivors to go on the local news channels and tell everyone that the serum worked. The news had started a new influx of people, but there still weren't as many as Bruce thought there should have been; and no one who walked in matched the descriptions or photos of any of the notorious X-Men. Plan A, which had been to transform one of the X-Men, and then get the location of the X-Men's base so he could get his father's military contacts in to exterminate them and bring Amanda back, had failed. Now on to Plan B.

                "Yes, it's time to implement Plan B," he said. "Mr. Mayor, you will give the speech about the 'Refusal of Medication' law; and then you will tell the city's residents that the law applies to mutants. Anyone who is a known mutant, or looks like one, will have to come to my clinic to receive my 'treatment' for their 'existing medical condition'. If they refuse to come they will be compelled to do so by the city police." Bruce smiled. "Amanda and her husband will have to come in. They are known mutants. And then I will have her."

*                                                              *                                                              *

                Jean picked up the ringing phone early the next morning. Puzzled by who would be calling at eight in the morning, when most of the X-Men were still asleep, she said, "Xavier residence."

                "Marie? Is this Marie?" came an unfamiliar voice. Jean's eyes widened, but she said calmly, "She's still asleep, should I wake her?"

                "Are you a mutant?" came the unexpected, hurried reply. Jean frowned. Curious. "I'm a mutant," said the man on the other end quickly. "And I know she is too. She and I had a talk in front of the Lafayette Street Clinic a couple months ago, when it first started giving out serum. I need to warn her; they are going to force Mutants in the city to take the serum. It's the law now, you have to have treatment for an existing medical condition. There is no more choice. Anyone who resists will be taken into custody. I wanted to tell her to get out of the city. At once. Those of us like me who look normal are pretty safe, but anyone who even looks different is going to be arrested and forced to accept the serum. Please trust me; I'm a cop, and those are my orders. If you're a mutant too, get out of town. Quickly." The phone went dead.

                She turned slowly to Xavier, Scott, and Ororo, sitting t the kitchen table. "Rogue's cop friend just called," she said. "He says mutants are now being compelled to take the serum, as part of some new law that says you have to get treatment for an existing medical condition. We don't have a choice anymore. If we resist, we're going to be arrested. Charles, how could they do this?"

                Xavier shook his head. "I do not know. This violates the first amendment; I will protest this in front of the congressional hearing that has been scheduled for Friday. I have no doubt that others will protest as well; the law will be overturned."

                There was a sudden chime from the air, and then the mansion's security system went off. Xavier quickly left the kitchen and went to the front hall, where he switched on the monitor attached to the camera aimed at the front gates. Two police cars and a van were pulled up by the high iron gates, and an officer was impatiently pushing the buzzer. Charles pushed the intercom on the keypad. "Yes, officer? What can I do for you?"

                "I am sorry to wake you, Mr. Xavier," the man said, his voice not sounding sorry at all. "But I have a warrant here to search your property for Dr. Henry McCoy and his new wife, who are listed as residing here, as well as any other mutants who might be on your premises. If you are a mutant yourself, sir…and we have heard some people who say you are, though some say you are not…you are advised to give yourself over into our custody."

                Xavier's eyes went wide. Jean, wake everyone up. Scott, Ororo, get Remy, Logan, Betsy, Warren, and Rogue into the lower levels and seal yourselves in. No one knows Jubilee is a mutant, and Jean, you appear normal. Bobby could also pass for human as well. I would send Hank and Amanda with you as well, but the police know they are here; and I would not be able to explain their absence. I can only hope that Amanda's current condition will prevent them from attempting to remove her. She is in enough discomfort already. Go! I will stall them until you are all downstairs.

                Jean's telepathic call woke everyone. Everyone wake up! Hurry! The police are arresting any mutants in the mansion. It is essential that they not find all of us. Scott and 'Ro are going down to the sublevels; Charles wants Logan, Remy, Betsy, Warren, and Rogue down there. Hank, you'll have to stay with Amanda; she can't be moved right now. I hope the officers leave you alone. Move it!

                In seconds, she heard pounding footsteps going down the back stairs to the sublevels. Everyone was wide awake. Jubilee had the presence of mind to bring Charles' regular wheelchair down from his room; Xavier had been so intent on protecting them he had forgotten about the hoverchair. He was playing with the controls on the gates; inching them open bit by bit, claiming that the unseasonable cold of the early October had caused the gate mechanisms to freeze. Ororo took the hoverchair into Charles' personal elevator with her on the way downstairs, after assuring him that everyone had turned on the image inducers installed into the floor of their rooms. To the outward eye, it would appear that the rooms were nothing but guest rooms, beds neatly made and waiting for occupants. If the drawers were opened, they would appear empty. Even the toothbrushes were gone, taken by their owners to the sublevels.

                The door to the mansion finally opened, and ten police officers crowded into the foyer. Only two of them had the grace to look flustered when they were greeted by the sight of Charles and Jean in nightclothes. Jubilee chose that moment to descend the stairs, rubbing her eyes and apparently still asleep.

                "Are you a mutant, Dr. Lee?" the officer who had talked to Charles on the intercom barked roughly. Jubilee shook her head, kept her voice level, and looked him straight in the eye. "No."

                "We had heard that you might be." The officer looked narrow-eyed at Jubilee, but the girl shook her head.

                "You heard wrong. I'm a research physicist." Jubilee made a face. "I don't know who would think I was  mutant."

                The officer looked at her a moment more, then went on to Jean. Jean replied in the negative, then applied gentle, subtle telekinetic pressure to the man's mind, turning his mind away from suspicion. The man turned to the other officers, ordering half of them to search the upper floors of the mansion, and half to the lower floors. Jean and Jubilee tracked their progress through the house, applying subtle messages and manipulating the men's eyes so that they only saw what they were supposed to see.

                Hank was sitting by Amanda's bed when three officers burst into their room. "We found them, sir," one man said into his walkie-talkie. The other man, who seemed to be a bit more sympathetic, went over to Amanda's bed. "How are you, Ma'am?" he said kindly.

                "Terrible," Amanda moaned. She was lying on her side in the bed, her enormous stomach supported on a pillow tucked between her knees. She was only five months along, but she looked almost seven due to the size of the child she was carrying. She had almost had a miscarriage twice in the last couple of months; her cervix, due to old scarring, had not been able to contain the weight of the child. Her obstetrician had installed stitches holding the cervix together until the child was developed enough to be safely delivered; and he had ordered her to remain in bed, on complete bed rest. She was miserable; Hank had sworn he would never touch her again, repeatedly and at length.

                "Come on," said the second officer. "We have to get her up. Detective Haver says she has to be taken into custody."

                "No," Amanda moaned, looking at them pleadingly. "My doctor wants me to stay in bed so I don't miscarry, or deliver prematurely. I've already almost delivered twice. Please, don't make me get up."

                The second man shook his head. "Sorry, ma'am, I have orders. Come on, get up."

                Hank held up a hand. "At least let me get her wheelchair." The man hesitated, then nodded, and hank pulled Amanda's extra-wide wheelchair out of the corner. Amanda got up with an effort and managed to hobble to the wheelchair. Her ankles and feet were swollen to almost twice their normal size. She sank down into it, and Hank wheeled her out into the hall and to the elevator that Charles used.

                The floors were smooth, but not perfectly so. Several bumps caused Amanda pain as the weight of her baby fell entirely on her stitched cervix; she moaned in pain. Hank tried to be gentle but some pain was unavoidable, and Charles could tell that he was furious by the time they got up to the front door. The little group was soon joined in the front foyer by the other officers, who reported that there was no one else in the mansion. Detective Haver nodded. "All right then," he said. "Both of them go in the van. Dr. Henry McCoy, Dr. Amanda McCoy, you are hereby under arrest for refusing treatment for your existing medical conditions; i.e., your mutations. You will be taken from here to the police station, where you will be processed, then a doctor from the clinic will come by to give you your injections."

                "We do not wish our mutations reversed," Hank said coldly. "To force us to accept treatment is to violate our constitutional rights to decide our own fates."

                "It's the law now, Mr. McCoy," he said icily. "Get them in the van."

                "Sir, there is no restraint system for the wheelchair in the van. We are going to have to come back with another vehicle, one for handicapped passengers."

                "She's pregnant, not handicapped, Officer Grayson," said Detective Haver roughly. "She will sit in the van, on the bench, like every other mutant freak we've picked up today." And Officer Grayson had no chice but to obey. Charles, Jean, and Jubilee watched as they wheeled her chair outside, then forced her to stand and climb into the van even through her anguished moans and cries of pain. The weight of the child in her stomach rested fully against her stitched cervix when she was finally seated, and Hank moved over behind her to allow her to lean back slightly on her hips to ease the pain of the weight on her pelvic floor. She looked up at Hank, her eyes full of tears. "Hank, why are they doing this to us?" she whimpered.

                Hank kissed her brow. "I don't know, Amanda. Just remember; I am with you. I will do everything I can to ease your discomfort. Save your strength. Here. I brought some of your pills; take one; and it should ease your pain a bit." Amanda took the pill from his hand and slipped it between her lips, swallowing it dry; then she sat back and tried to relax, although the bouncing and jolting of the prison van caused her to cry out in pain more than once.

                By the time the van pulled up in front of the jail she was crying. Hank alighted first, but when he turned back to help her out of the van, he was pushed back roughly by another officer. Two men stepped into the van to help her out, but were clumsy with her considerable bulk. She slipped on the step coming out, and Hank rushed to her side as she fell to the ground. Other policemen prodded him back with their nightsticks as Amanda climbed slowly to her feet. The two were escorted into the jail by a bevy of officers and taken to the processing desk. Amanda weakly allowed them to take her fingerprints, then they took Hank's. Then officers began to pull them in separate directions. "No!" Amanda struggled weakly. "Please, please let me stay with my husband! Please!"

                The desk sergeant waved to the officers holding Amanda's arms, and he let go. Amanda stumbled the few steps back to his side and clung to his arm, weeping softly. He said. "Put them in a cell together."

                Detective Haver protested. "This is highly irregular…"

                The desk Sergeant interrupted. "It's not going to hurt anything, Haver. The doctor from the clinic will come, inject both of them, and then they'll go home. In the meantime, there's no need for both of them to be uncomfortable. Put them in a cell together."

                The benches in the cells were hard and uncomfortable. The blanket that they gave Hank did little to alleviate the pressing weight of her enormous stomach and aching hips; Amanda moaned that she wanted to go home. Hank gripped her hand, tried to cheer her up, but she was obviously in pain from her fall. Hank slipped her another of her pills, which the officers hadn't seen, and she slipped into a semi-doze. Hank tried to make himself as comfortable as possible where he sat on the floor beside her, and waited.

                It was almost three hours later when he heard footsteps, and then the sound of the cell door sliding back. Hank turned, and froze as he saw who walked in, escorted by two officers.

                It was Bruce Garrett.