Chapter 10: Himmel

"You are a god among insects..."

--Magneto

Something wrong. Something different. He took long, pacing strides, back and forth along the dimly lit tunnel. Fathom watched him with increasing impatience, but he did not care. He ran his fingers along the rough wall, hmm-ing to himself.

"Something different…" he turned and started again.

Fathom shifted to her other leg. "You want a light or something?" she asked.

He merely shook his head. "Something wrong…" he murmured.

And there it was. A small, uniform dent in the wall. He had been stroking, back and forth, along the wall, feeling how filthy it was in most places, and then, suddenly, how inexplicably clean it was in one particular spot in the center, a space that stretched as wide as a door. Now, along that cleaner piece of wall, he fingered that tiny, round dent. As if on cue, the door slid open, revealing a long, even cleaner, steel hallway. He step into it, and the click of his boots echoed down the stark, yet oddly beautiful passage. Fathom approached from behind him, her eyes wide and her mouth wider.

"What is this?" she asked at last.

Himmel shook his head. He had recalled earlier what young Spit, the fire mutant, had said to him, several days ago, about Commander Sky. During the battle, he had said, Sky was nowhere to be found, but had appeared at last from one of the deeper subway tunnels, late for the outset of the battle. Spit had told him that he had had no confidence in Sky as a commander. Himmel had stored away that information, but had not forgotten it. When Fathom informed him that she had sensed Tymah with a class four metal worker in the South District, he had been puzzled. When she had further informed him that Commander Sky had been informed of it first and had said she would tell Himmel the news, and had not done so, his suspicions had increased.

Himmel had been raised nearly to the level of a Full Commander. He had not, and would never be officially raised to such a level, because of his class ranking. As a class three, Himmel was looked down upon by other, more capable and powerful class fours. By all logic, Commander Sky ought to have been offered the official position. But she had not been. Clearly, class wasn't everything. Sky was unpredictable, with a tendency towards emotional; Himmel was none of those things. He was clear thinking and cold. He knew himself to be such and was glad of it.

He brought himself back to the tunnel and looked at Fathom. "Sense," he ordered.

She closed her eyes and seemed to concentrate. Her eyes flashed open almost immediately. "Fire mutant, class three. Metal worker, class three. The same one that was with Sky!" she declared excitedly. "A telekinetic, class three. Teleporter, class three. Sensor, class—" Fathom stopped suddenly. "She senses me! She knows you're here! They're all disappearing!" she cried. "The teleporter is taking them all away!"

Even as she was speaking, Himmel was racing down the passage way. He turned a corner and entered a room just in time to see the last of them disappear. He did not call out or try to stop them; it was enough for them to know that he knew. Fathom appeared breathless beside him. "They're gone!" she said.

He looked calmly at her. "Obviously." Fathom blushed. Himmel stood thoughtfully for a moment. "The council," he decided, turned and was followed by the Sensor.

At some point, she became lost. Inexperienced as she was with the nature of heavily wooded areas, it probably had not taken long. She noticed the silence first, the absence of the voice of whoever had been calling her name as she had fled. Now, there was all silence. Tymah stopped running and fell to her knees, weeping shamelessly and taking in quick, gasping breaths as she did so.

She was not even sure why she was crying. Perhaps, like a fool, she had assumed that Daytripper had liked her, had maybe even loved her. The void inside her where her power had been robbed from her had been filled, temporarily, with the solace that Tripper had been going through the same thing, that they were sharing equally the horrifying reality of having been Cured. He had been an inexpressible comfort to her, with his kind words and comforting arms. Now, she felt as though that hollow abyss within her would swallow her whole, from the outside in, that she would just disappear into herself and never be seen again—and in a way, she wished, at the moment, that it were possible to do so.

But it was not.

Instead, she wrapped her arms around herself, digging her sharp nails into her flesh. She was glad she was lost. Let the forest swallow her, if the mournful emptiness inside her could not.

When the self-loathing stopped, anger took its place. The moment she ceased to dwell on how stupid she had been, she began to focus on how deceitful Daytripper was. Revulsion swelled in her and filled the void.

A human.

Think of it! A human female…for a companion. It was too loathsome to contemplate, and yet, she had witnessed just such an abomination. And he, just embracing her, and kissing her, as if there were nothing the matter with it! Smiling and twirling her about—his human lover! He would do better to mate with a monkey!

With equal derision, she called to mind that she, too, was human. But, it was only temporary. Her condition was like a disease. It would heal itself in time, and then she would be herself again. They called it the Cure because it was an ironic name, not a cure at all, but an affliction to be dealt with, not accepted. Humanity was not a creature, it was an illness!

Tymah lay back on the dry leaves and stared up at the sky through the treetops. There was something exciting about having been cured, however. Guiltily, she recalled having heard someone say that once the Cure wore off, a mutant's powers increased, sometimes twice as strong. She was not sure if that were true. It was said that Magneto had been Cured once, and that when his powers returned, he had been nearly indestructible. But, of course, he had died.

She sat up. But, of course, she knew now that he had not died. He truly had been indestructible. He himself was living proof of that.

With a pang, she thought of how shocking it had been when she had fully realized that the grey-eyed man that had come out of the pod had actually been the real Magneto; and how comforting Daytripper had been to her at that most crucial moment, when her entire world had come crashing down around her. But with that pang came that nauseating sense of disgust. It almost obliterated her pain.

At least she had good reason to hate him now, not just her own selfish motives. It gave her strength.

But what kind of strength was that which was built upon hatred? Strong, to be sure, but not everlasting.

Oh she could not think about that now! She could not think about anything at all!

Tymah?

Her eyes flashed open. The sky was a different hue. Had she fallen asleep? She sat up. There were leaves across her body, as if she had lain there for some time, unmoving. She had slept.

Had someone said her name?

The wisps of a dream passed over her mind's eye, fleeting and confusing. Had she dreamt of a baby crying, or had she been crying while having a baby? Or had she and a baby been crying in entirely different circumstances? She tried to hold onto images of blurring people and places, but it was no use. The dream, and all its peculiarities, disappeared, the harder she tried to make them stay.

"TYMAH!"

This voice, unlike the one in her dream, spoke aloud and with force. And with the sound of it came running feet, crushing leaves along its path.

"Tymah!" Spit gasped, sliding to his knees beside her. "Where the hell—I've been looking for you for hours! It's gonna be dark soon!" He was not angry, he was startled, frustrated and worried. But all that kindness, somehow, made her furious. She forgot the dream, pushing herself up off the ground away from him.

"I've been here!" she spat. "Right here. What do you want?"

Spit's apparent relief at finding her was stifled by her cold response. "I was just…" he faltered. "Looking for you…" he finished weakly, but his face hardened as he got up. "But if you'd rather stay here lost in the dark, I'll go!" He moved to do just that and Tymah was suddenly remorseful. She put her face in her hands.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Then the tears came.

He approached her tentatively. "Let's go," he said. "Let's get out of here. I still have my powers. I'll protect you till yours come back. We don't have to stay here!"

"Where will we go?"

"Anywhere," he replied. "We can stay in the forest, like you wanted to."

At that, she laughed. "Oh yeah, two mutants from the city are going to survive out here."

"We could try," said Spit with sincerity.

Tymah looked up at him and felt like she had never seen him before in her life. He stood staring at her with concern and some fear, should she have another outburst. He was serious and she knew it, but… "We can't do that," she shook her head. She felt weak, suddenly, and realized that it had been some time since she had eaten anything. She sat back on the ground. Spitfire sat beside her.

They were quiet for some time. The sun dipped behind the level of the trees, but still provided some light. It was eerie out here, and cold. She breathed a deep sigh and saw her breath in a white mist.

Spit shifted beside her, looking at her intensely. "It's ok, you know," he said at last. "It's ok that you liked that guy. It's ok."

"And why is that?" she asked, her voice icy with sarcasm.

Spit remained serious. "He saved your life, you saved his…"he shrugged, "it's bound to bring people together in a different way than…than usual person to person encounters, you know? Well…it makes sense to me, is what I mean."

"I guess," she replied, feeling heavy.

"He wanted to come with me. To look for you…I told him it wasn't a good idea."

She bit the inside of her cheek. "If I had my powers…I would level this camp. And everyone in it…everyone."

"I could set it on fire, if you want. But…I'd want to get Magneto out first."

Magneto…Magneto… "Godspeed…" she murmured. And it hit her. Now was not the time for personal vendettas. Now was the time to do what she had promised Godspeed. Carry out Godspeed's plan for peace…a plan she had entrusted to Tymah and Tymah alone, out of all the Elementals in whom she could have put her trust.

"What about Godspeed?" Spit asked gently.

"Let's go back to the camp," she said, suddenly decisive.

"You sure?"

She nodded, standing. He did likewise. When he had stood up, he let his hand erupt into flame, which would have been a frightening spectacle to anyone who did not know a firemutant personally. He held up his hand like a torch. It brightened their fast dimming path. His other hand courageously took Tymah's and together they walked back to the camp.

The Elemental Mutant Council is made up of mutants above the age of twenty years from each class four elemental category. There are not many class four Elemental mutants (and even fewer above the age of twenty); there are mostly mutants with variations of class four powers. For example, a class four weatherworker can control almost all elements of the weather: wind, rain, thunder, lighting, etc. A lesser class weatherworker can control only a few or just one of these elements. A class four firemutant can control and create fire, as well as manipulate the smoke and ash created by flame. A lesser class mutant can control fire, but not create it, or worse…can create it, and not control it, or some such other limited variation. When there is more than one class four Elemental of a certain power, above the age of twenty, the Council will vote among its already existing members on who should serve on the Council.

Therefore, the Council is made up of these class four mutants: Hellfire, a firemutant; Thorn, a woodworker; Volt, an electric mutant, who can also manipulate sound waves and create lasers; Tremor, an earth mutant; Oceanica, a water mutant. There has not been a class four metal worker since the time of Magneto, and since Godspeed is dead, there has not been time to replace the weatherworker on the Council, nor is there another class four weatherworker of age within their immediate knowledge.

Himmel stood, undaunted, unintimidated (he was never intimidated) before this august body, having relayed his discovery as succinctly as was mutantly possible. For a moment, the Council merely looked at him, then, just as quickly, erupted into a flurry of discussion, mixed with questions, directly and indirectly, for Himmel. Fathom stood, looking out of place, behind him, close to the door, so as to escape both notice, and the room, if necessary.

"Where is Commander Sky?" Hellfire asked.

"Dead," Himmel said, without any further explanation.

Hellfire clearly expected some. "Dead? We were not informed."

Himmel looked over at Fathom, who could explain it best. She shook her head furiously, but Himmel insisted with a cold, urging stare. She stepped forward, timidly. "I don't know how she died, but she is dead," Fathom said quietly.

The Council looked on her with derision. They did not much care for Outsiders. In fact, Himmel wondered if an Animalis mutant would not be more welcome at this Council than an Outsider, for an Outsider was just that: outside the normal parameters of mutantity. And Fathom was not just an Outsider, she was a class two, meriting both disdain and condescension.

Thorn raised an eyebrow. "And you are…Fathom, correct? A Sensor, class… two?"

Fathom nodded and Himmel bristled slightly when he saw how ashamed she was of her class. He, himself, was only a class three. Thorn continued, "You sense within a forty mile radius, correct?"

She nodded again.

"And how is it, then, Fathom," he went on in a weary drawl, "that you know for a fact that Commander Sky is dead?"

Fathom began nervously at first, but seemed to gather strength the more she spoke. "I was tracking her. I sensed her outside the compound, with another mutant, a class three metal worker. I was tracking her because I was curious about where she could be going and then, suddenly, her powers increased to a huge degree, as if she was battling, and just as suddenly, she disappeared."

"Disappeared? Out of your range?"

Fathom shook her head. "No, still in my range, just not there. Dead."

Several of the mutants on the Council gave each other wry, skeptical glances. Seeing that, Fathom rallied herself further. "I don't expect you to understand," she said, snidely, "but when a mutant dies, it's quite a different feeling from when a mutant simply steps out of range. It's quite a terrible feeling actually," she continued with morbid pride, "it's like holding onto to something that suddenly isn't there anymore and without it, you fall very far and very fast. I know she is dead, whether you believe it or not and if not, the disbelief only effects you, and not me. So, quite frankly, I couldn't care less."

Himmel looked at her, impressed in spite of himself. Her clarity of speech and thought surprised even him, but it only made the Council more indignant. "Well," Volt said coolly, "thank you for your…opinion, Fathom." He said nothing more, which, clearly, was her signal to leave. She looked at Himmel briefly, and then exited.

"The truth," Himmel said.

"That may be," said Thorn. He stared at Himmel. "Himmel, you handled the battle well. We were not pleased with Sky's performance. Godspeed's betrayal has also shocked us to our very core. To think we won the battle, despite these…events," he waved a hand in the air, dismissing what he did not like to dwell on, "is a testament to your abilities as a commander. We thank you."

Himmel nodded, but said nothing.

"Tell me, what are your feelings on the battle?"

"Too easy," Himmel replied immediately. "It was a diversion. I do not know for what."

Oceanica nodded. "We have come to the same conclusion," she said. "I will take the liberty of informing you that you are, in fact, exactly right in that regard. There was an isolated fight in a chamber deep below the tunnels during the battle, a chamber we did not know was there. We have examined the chamber…that is, what was left of it, and have concluded that it held something worth hiding. Can you guess what it could be?"

He shook his head.

"Nor can we," Oceanica admitted. "It was almost completely in ruin when we discovered it and we discovered it only because one of the Sensors sensed an Animalis mutant in that area. When we arrived, no one was there. We concluded, therefore, that the Chamber and the area around it had been protected by a sensor-shield, which was destroyed in the fight and that the Animalis must have had a teleporter in his employ, to have escaped so fast."

How many words had Oceanica used to explain so simple a situation? Himmel wondered briefly. She knew the facts. She should state them factually, and with confidence. She need not tell an epic. "Fathom sensed a teleporter with Tymah and a class four metal worker in the South District several days ago. Sky knew and did not tell me. Spitfire has also disappeared."

Tremor, who had said nothing up until this point, started suddenly. "A class four metal worker?"

"We know of no such metal worker," Thorn added.

Himmel shrugged. It was what it was.

Oceanica bit her lower lip. "This is odd."

"Very," Volt agreed.

Tremor, ironically, seemed to tremble. No one noticed but Himmel. "A class four metal worker," the earth mutant repeated, more to himself than to anyone else.

After a protracted silence, Hellfire spoke at last. "Tymah was with them? We were told she had died in the battle."

"As was I," Himmel said. "Fathom informed me otherwise."

"This is very odd," Oceanica said again. Volt nodded. Tremor looked concerned. After a protracted silence, Thorn looked toward Hellfire with a distinctive look, urging him to say something.

"Ah yes," Hellfire said, reminded of something by Thorn's look. "Himmel," he began, "we are very grateful to you for your service to us. In the absence of Commander Sky and Godspeed, we, the Council," he gestured to the body, "have decided to grant Tremor the position of Full Commander. We thank you again for all you have done."

Himmel froze. Could they thank him and demote him in the same breath? Were they so very grateful to his military genius that they deemed it no longer required? He opened his mouth to speak, attempted to twice and failed. Finally, all he managed to do was to repeat what Thorn had said to him only minutes ago, "I…handled the battle well…" he said, "The battle was won."

"Yes," Hellfire said with a smile. "We thank you."

"I handled the battle well," he repeated.

Tremor looked uncomfortable, but Thorn spoke before he could. "You did, and you will continue to serve as Commander, under Full Commander Tremor. You will continue to use those talents of yours for which we are so grateful."

A look from Thorn, that same look he had given Hellfire to remind him to put Himmel back in his place, told Himmel it was time for him to leave. It was all so hurried, so rushed—he was no longer needed; his services were no longer required; he would serve under another, as before.

But, oh, how very grateful they were.

Without another word, Himmel turned on his heel and left the Council Room—that arena of elites; that power center of the most powerful—and not for the first time did he think it was time for a change.

Fathom intercepted him as he walked from the closed door, so much more than just a door; it was a wall between him and his capabilities, between his class and theirs. She fell in stride with him.

"They demoted you," she said.

He nodded.

"Why?"

He stopped. "You know why," he answered.

"Your class?"

He nodded.

She bit her lip. "I'm sorry," she said.

He shook his head. It was not her fault.

"No," she said, "I'm sorry because…because until recently, I thought as they think. It was easy for me to think that way because it was an excuse for me to continue to be ashamed of my class and to not be able to do anything about it."

Her eyes were wide and young. There was so much youth all around him, and she, one of the youngest. He felt aged when he looked into the eyes of the young, but now, strangely, he felt an unaccustomed smile play at the corners of his mouth. "You did well," he said.

"Thanks," she blushed, "They made me angry."

"Yes."

They walked on in silence, until Fathom finally asked, "Why didn't you tell them she was murdered?"

He shrugged. "It would have made no difference. Eventually, Godspeed would have been executed."

"But to be strangled…that does make a difference."

Amused suddenly, Himmel stopped. "But quite frankly," he mimicked, "you couldn't care less."

She heard her own words coming from Himmel's lips and smiled dolefully. "Maybe I do…maybe I'm just curious."

"Deadly," he warned.

"What isn't?" she retorted. "The whole world's on fire. Some of us burn more slowly, but we all burn."

"Yes," Himmel agreed.

The position as Full Commander, though he had held it but a little while, had given him power over that fire, he knew. It had given him something he had never realized he'd wanted—had deserved, even—and that was power. And not dictatorial power over mutants' souls or any such triviality as that. No. Power over the future, over the destiny of the world, over History. Himmel had lived through history, unlike nearly every mutant he knew. He had been born into it and had survived through it and as Full Commander, he could have affected it, changed it, made it…better, perhaps. Made it so that mutants like Fathom could live past twenty-five; could have a future; could be proud of their abilities, regardless of their class. A future without class...ah, but that could not change the past, could not bring her back…

Oh, no. He must not think of that. That horrible time. No. He must not. Could not. He shook off his own memories. Like Fathom, there had been a time in his life when he had accepted his class as a weakness, something he could do nothing about. He had been resigned to his lack of power. Until recently, he had not fully realized that his lack of power was not a lack at all—but a strength. It forced him to depend upon his brain, his ingenuity, powers that had nothing to do with his mutant abilities. He had defied the class system—if only for a while.

And having defied it, he could not go back.

He would not go back.

"Himmel?" Fathom asked.

He blinked. "The mutants in the metal room. Can you find them again?"

"If they're within a forty mile radius, I can," she said.

"Find them."

She tilted her head. "Is that a Council-approved order…sir?" she asked, wryly.

Himmel did not answer, except by smiling slightly. Then he folded his hands behind his back and walked with Fathom out of the tunnels.