Chapter Ten
All time is the same, in the eyes of God. The difference between 10,000 BC and 10,000 AD is less than the blink of an eye to eternity. Even to those who walk the Earth as gods, the length of human history might seem to them as merely an incident-albeit a long one-in their existences. But to those of us who are born, live their lives, and die, in their appointed time, that time is all we have, and given this fact, it behooves us to consider, just for a moment, what it means.
Maria Gianelli joined the X-Men in June of 1964. At that time, what was to be called The Age of Wonders was already well underway. Already, humans rode into space and came back possessing the power of gods. Already, real gods walked the Earth-or at least, they thought of themselves as gods, and there was no reason for anyone to think otherwise. Already, of course, mutants were being born into the world, and their existence was a fact that every inhabitant of the planet had to take into account.
But was it really June of 1964? Debate rages in certain quarters about this. The Age of Wonders was such an extraordinary phenomenon that it has passed into legend. And like other legendary events-the Trojan War, King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table, Atlantis, the life of Shakespeare-even the most basic questions of chronology are disputed. To take a very simple example-when, exactly, did the space flight that transformed Reed Richards, Ben Grimm, Sue Storm, and Johnny Storm into the so-called "Fantastic Four" occur? This question alone has spawned numerous scholarly controversies, none of which have ever been solved. There is a very simple prima facie case that this event occurred in the year 1961. Evidence exists that the flight was documented and chronicled in that year. That should end the controversy.
And yet-equally good evidence exists that Reed Richards and the others were acting as the Fantastic Four well into the 21st Century, and possibly even beyond. And the chronicles of that era make it equally clear that none of them had even been born in the year 1961. Which means, of course, that Reed Richards and Ben Grimm could not have been World War Two veterans. And, consequently, that Victor Von Doom's background as a Gypsy, at odds with a powerful local nobleman, could not have happened in the era before war broke out in Europe in 1939.
Other examples could be cited, almost endlessly. Did Anthony Stark become Iron Man in Vietnam, in 1963-or in another Asian War, in the 21st century? Did the Age of Wonders co-exist with the Cold War era at all? The evidence that it did is so overwhelming that to enumerate it would take volumes. And yet, the evidence that the entire Era didn't even begin until after the turn of the 21st century is also extremely persuasive. How is this all to be reconciled?
Some simply say that the 1961 date is accurate, period, and that all later chronologies are hoaxes. Others say that the 21st century dates are the right ones, and the early dates are the hoaxes. But there are others-perhaps the most thoughtful-who think that, in some way, all the chronologies are right. The evidence for parallel worlds existing within a larger Multiverse is extremely persuasive. Given this, some say that yes, the original flight that created the Fantastic Four was indeed in 1961. But once that happened, other worlds branched out from that Primal Event, and their chronologies were influenced by factors in their own particular time-lines. What might seem to some observers as events that took place over fifty years, after 1961, actually occurred in a shorter span in any given universe.
Let us get down to cases. Let us take Jean Grey, the most mysterious and legendary of all the figures of the Age of Wonders. Everything about her is fiercely contested, even the most basic facts. But going on the basis of the best evidence we have, a number of paradoxes emerge. She was born in 1946, and joined the X-Men in 1963. And yet, she did not become Phoenix until 1976, and died in the year 1980. She was resurrected in the year 1985, married Scott Summers in 1994, and died again in 2004. And of course, all of that was only the beginning. But it is enough for our purposes. Which of these dates are the "real" ones?
All, perhaps, and none. The Jean Grey who joined the X-Men in 1963 might not be exactly the Jean Grey who transformed the entire Universe in the M'Kraan Crystal in 1977. Legends from one timeline's chronology would get mixed up in legends from another one. The "Jean Grey" of, say, 1991-when the X-Men and X-Factor reunited-had joined the team, from her perspective, about 1983 or 1984, and had experienced very similar, but not identical, events to the "Primal" Jean of 1963. The reverse must also be true-that is, the Primal Jean of 1963 must have, in her turn, become Phoenix earlier than 1976, died and resurrected herself earlier than 1980 and 1985, married Scott Summers earlier than 1994, and so on. Which chronology is the "true" one?
These questions must remain open for now. Perhaps, in the course of this romance, they shall be answered. Perhaps not. To those who say that one chronology must be the "real" one, the one from which all others emerge as shadows of it-this might make a sort of sense, but there is no reason to feel that it is true. "Common sense" breaks down in this whole area, as it does, say, in quantum physics, which it is connected to. All we can do is explore the best evidence we have, and not to assume that any one time-line is necessarily "right", and the others "wrong". Again-we might get some answers before we are through.
Given this, then, we must assume that the life of Maria Gianelli, as this chronicle has shown it, is accurate for her and her fellow X-Men-for the purposes of this story. And that is all that can be claimed for any chronology of the Age of Wonders. This means, of course, that as of 1964, individuals who in some sense might not have come to the public's attention until much later-say, "1978", or "2005"-were actually present in the world of 1964. Let us take note of some of them.
...Eric Magnus Lehnsherr, otherwise known as "Magneto", was of course already a commanding presence in June of 1964. We see him, as we look at that far-off-yet ever-present in the eye of God-date. He is having a fit of temper, threatening his minions Jason Wyngarde and Mortimer Toynbee as he is wont to do, and simply raging at Pietro Maximoff, who is disdaining him. He is already searching for the one known as the Blob, and is closer than he realizes to finding him.
...Victor von Doom is brooding in Castle Latveria, still stung from the check he has received at the hands of a certain individual. The Lorna Dane robot is lost to him, and he shall have to create a new game for the Prime Mover. He wonders if the rumors that former U.S. Army Ranger Nick Fury will be appointed to head an intelligence outfit known as "SHIELD" are true. He remembers certain events from the 1950s, concerning an individual who called himself the Yellow Claw. Doom is beginning to see possibilities.
...Nathaniel Essex is sitting and contemplating his own cleverness. He is much given to this. The fact that both Scott Summers and Jean Grey are members of the X-Men pleases him immensely. They are where he can keep an eye on them-or so he thinks. He feels confident that they will fall in love, not aware that they have in fact already done so. He feels that this is in some sense his accomplishment. That they are puppets in his hands. He is incorrect about this.
...Bolivar Trask is a happy man. Ever since he has heard of the existence of mutants, he has been certain of what this means. A war between the species, that the mutants, despite their smaller numbers, will win. Time is on their side. He has been busy for years trying to find a defense. He is very close to the realization of that dream. He likes to imagine the look on Magneto's face, when he first lays eyes on one of his Sentinels. Trask does not realize that he is a fool.
...En Sabat Nur, otherwise known as Apocalypse, has seen the labors of a very long lifetime come to fruition. It is finally happening-the rise of mutants. He watches the doings of Magneto with great interest, as the crude first efforts of the world's mutants to take what nature has given them. He is content to let Magnus take the lead. He shall not succeed, of course, but Apocalypse is learning valuable lessons in the meantime. The only real obstacle is Xavier and his cubs. And they have a new recruit, a young tigress. Apocalypse respects strength, and he senses it in the girl Maria Gianelli. Soon, very soon, he will be prepared to act. But the players on the board need to weed each other out, just a little bit more.
...Sebastian Shaw is a mutant who hides that fact. He has become a success in the human business world, and has already joined the Hellfire Club, at this time not yet a front for mutants. It is very old and very respectable, which is remarkable, considering the nature of what goes on there. For Shaw, it is a stepping-stone. He has no real interest in mutant supremacy. Mutants are as much prey for him as humans are. There are the sheep, and there are those who fleece them. Both categories have humans and mutants amongst them. He will work with anyone who can increase his wealth and power. As time passes, mutants will probably predominate among the fleecers. That will be as it will be. He is not impatient.
...Emma Frost is adjusting her corset at the Hellfire Club, looking at herself in the mirror. A young woman of good family, she has become involved in the Club almost as a lark, really a slumming expedition. She has found that it is a serious business, even potentially deadly. This has increased her pleasure in the whole matter. She finds that she enjoys the danger, even gets a sexual kick out of it. She intends to rise in the organization, and thinks she is cut out for it. She is correct.
...The Genegineer of Genosha is looking at an endless slew of reports. He sighs to himself. It seems sometimes that the work will never end. His job is a cruel one, he knows that. Conscripting people, children, who had never dreamed what fate had in store for them. Dealing with recalcitrant families. Dealing with a civilian government that sometimes shut its eyes to reality. He knows perfectly well what the bleeding hearts in the outside world would say if they knew what happened here in Genosha. "Slave state". "Fascist". Comparisons to the Nazis. He sighs to himself. As if they were about to open their arms to their mutants! Well, Genosha had gotten rich by making other countries rich along with it. As long as that was true-as long as sensible men of business wanted to continue to do business-the bleeding hearts would bleed in vain.
...Ororo is flying around the crest of Kilimanjaro. There has been drought, and she felt the need to consult the Bright Lady. Ororo never feels closer to the Lady than here, at the summit of the sacred mountain. But her thoughts are not only on the drought, on the Lady, on the needs of her people. She thinks of her heart, and of the young man T'Challa. Would she be happy, as Queen of Wakanda? She knows he desires this. But as for her... She cannot decide, she thinks, as the Lady blesses her. Ororo returns to her home, to give the give of rain. But T'Challa remains in her thoughts.
...Near Lake Baikal, Peter Rasputin is plowing a field. As usual, he does not bother using a tractor. It would only slow him down. His baby sister Ilyana is watching him from the house, and he waves to her. Peter is feeling good. The brief summer is always a balm on his spirits. Peter's horizons are those of his field, his collective, the area around the lake. He does not feel the want of anything. He knows he is different from the others, but they accept him without any fuss. He is a good boy, and his strength is useful. He has no desire to ever leave.
...Cain Marko remains trapped under a mountain of rubble. He has been buried there for many years, but his slow pressure on the mound above him is steadily paying off. He can feel it beginning to yield to him. It will still take some months, but he has nothing but time. He does not need to eat, or sleep, or even rest. He feels inexhaustible, invincible. And his entire soul is directed towards one goal-to find and kill his step-brother, Charles. This is not even a conscious decision, it is simply the fulcrum of his existence.
...Kurt Wagner is swinging on a trapeze, somewhere in Germany. He has experienced the Torches and Pitchforks so familiar to Maria, but his devil-may-care attitude buoys him. If he can perform, if he can use his athletic abilities, then he will let the rest of the world go to hell, and let tomorrow go to hell, too. He has never heard of the word "mutant".
...Logan is doing a job for Canadian Intelligence. A wet job. His assignment is to extract some information from a certain man, then kill him. Both parts of the job are old hat to him, and he is very good at them. Indeed, at whatever he does, he is the best there is. But in fact, this particular target has done him a favor once in the past, something his superiors are not aware of. As a result, he will let the man live. If anyone ever finds out, or complains, he will let them know, in very explicit language, what he thinks of their objections. He hopes the job will be over soon, so he can make a long-delayed trip to Madripoor. Logan, as it happens, has heard the word "mutant", and indeed is familiar with Charles Xavier. The idea, though, that he might be an X-Man someday has never entered his head. He might, however, be interested in the possibilities that Jimmie Hudson has proposed. At least for awhile. None of his gigs lasts too long.
...in Deerfield, Illinois, a little girl named Katherine Pryde is sitting in her room, reading The Lord of the Rings. Katherine combines immense intelligence with great imagination. She gives herself completely to the story, as she does to everything she reads. The world of her imagination is more real to her than her real life, though she has no complaints about this. She is good in school, loves her family, and likes the Chicago suburb she lives in. But something inside her knows that someday, in some way, she is destined for adventures.
...In a dark room somewhere, a certain figure stirs. It has been busy for a long time, and is tired and hungry. It looks at its watch, and decides on one more hour of work. I must do everything I can to get ready, the figure thinks to itself. Doom is checked for the moment. That is a saving grace. But there are so many others...there is so much to do. The figure gives a deep sigh. I do not know how much time I have. I had originally thought at least four years. Now, I am not so sure. And the girl Maria is a wild card. She might upset all calculations in ways I cannot estimate. The figure goes back to the desk and sits down again. The pieces of the board are all in play. They are moving. And I am alone. To be honest, the odds are against me. That does not matter. I must succeed. The alternative is too terrifying to consider.
...and in Westchester County, Jean Grey is once again on the verge of waking up after some intense dreams. A dark figure-more-she doesn't know who, what they are, and she doesn't want to know because that would focus her mind too much and she'd wake up, and this state would be gone, with so much potential for enlightenment. The figures slowly vanish, and Jean suddenly comes face-to-face with a star. The light is blinding, but she doesn't need to squint or turn her face away. She is not dreaming, she knows that. The star fills the universe, and suddenly she realizes that she is in some sense consuming it. She hears, no, rather senses, terrible cries of despair. She knows that somehow she is responsible for them.
Jean gasped, as she came to full consciousness. What had happened? Her pillow was soaked in sweat. She was soaked with sweat. That star! It wasn't exactly a dream, because she was on that borderline between waking and sleeping she knew so well. But usually, that state had brought her enlightenment and a sense of peace, even if she couldn't always remember the details. But this-!
She shivered, cold despite the summer night. She went to the window, and looked up at the stars. That experience had been so intense-and so fraught with sorrow, and despair. And she had in some sense been responsible. In the vision, she had been the agent of some extraordinary evil-the "consumption" of the star must have been a kind of symbol of that evil. Could that really be her?
It took Jean some time before she got back to sleep. Should she talk to the Professor about this? And tell him what, exactly? That she had had a bad dream, on the brink of waking-for what else could it be, after all? She took a deep breath, then another. Finally slumber came again, and a deep, intense sleep without dreams. When she awoke in the morning, the dark shadow of the night had been forgotten, and she was her normal, cheerful self. But she avoided looking at the night sky for some time.
Maria looked through the lens. "Say 'cheese'!" she called out, and the X-Men, gathered around the Professor, smiled. Maria snapped the picture, and the light made them all blink. She put the camera down, fascinated that the picture would be ready in just a couple of minutes. An "instamatic". What would they think of next.
The X-Men, in their graduation caps, looked almost surreal, and Maria thought they all appeared just slightly self-conscious. There had been an "official" ceremony the day before, for their graduation from Professor Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, and Maria of course had been absent from that. The students' families had been there-Jean's parents, Warren's, Bobby's, Hank's. Scott, of course, had no family. Some others had been there, too, including-despite his outraged protest when she first saw him-Dr Asimov. (And yes, when she later talked to Jean, she told Maria that he had given her another pinch. Maria felt bemused about this. Just maybe, it wasn't all that hot an idea. Just maybe, something would have to be done about this.) To Maria's surprise, watching as she was from a strategically advantageous hiding place, Dr Reed Richards and Dr Henry Pym were there. As was Dr Linus Pauling. And Dr Jonas Salk. And Dr J. Robert Oppenheimer. And even-her jaw dropped when she realized who it was-Dr Albert Schweitzer. And yes, Dr Martin Luther King as well. Maria was astonished. Did all these people know the truth about this place? She noticed, to her amusement, that Professor Grey, Jean's father, seemed as non-plussed at the guest list as Maria was.
She removed the picture from the camera, and showed it around. Her fellow X-Men looked pleased. "Perhaps we should send a copy to Magneto, with the inscription 'wish you were here'," Hank said. This suggestion, Maria noted, did not gain the approval of the others. Bobby looked at the diploma. Maria had noted that Bobby had been rather subdued in the weeks since she had received her code-name, especially towards her. She felt a little sorry for him, but he had brought it on himself. His natural buoyancy, though, had come to the surface as the graduation approached, and she felt that he wasn't walking on eggshells around her all the time. Good. The sooner things were normal between them, the better.
"Professor," Bobby said, "these diplomas are blank."
"Naturally, my frosty friend," Hank said. "You don't expect it to declare you to be a full-fledged X-Man, now do you?"
"Well, no," Bobby answered. "But still, it seems kind of funny to have a diploma from the School proper, but nothing about our real purpose here."
The Professor smiled slightly. "My dear Robert-wasn't getting an education at least part of your 'real purpose'?"
Bobby shrugged. "You know what I mean, sir. Does the team itself change in any way, now that we've formally graduated from the School?"
The Professor nodded. "You know, Bobby, that's not a bad question. And the answer is 'yes'. Scott, as I said last month, is the team leader in the field. I shall be playing less of a role now when you are all in actual combat. It's time that you all took the next step towards being a team in your own right."
They all looked pleased at this news, Maria thought. They worked together so well, like the five fingers of a hand. How did she fit in? Maybe as a pair of brass knuckles, she thought with a laugh.
One hour later, they were all in the Danger Room. Training went on, graduation or no graduation. Maria was working with them now, and she had as many manuevers and strategems to learn as a football player with his Xs and Os. Indeed, her very presence had substantially changed their playbook. At the moment, they were dealing with robot simulations of the Brotherhood. Somehow, the robots had rudimentary versions of the real powers of their enemies. Maria didn't quite understand how this was possible, thinking that if robots could mimic mutant powers, then wouldn't they be as powerful as the mutants themselves? But the Professor had assured her that the robots only had very minute power sources, could only mimic the Brotherhood for a few minutes at a time, and even then possessed only just enough of their powers to provide some training for the team. When Maria asked the Professor where the robots came from, he became unusually reticent and didn't answer.
At the moment, "Quicksilver" was flashing around the Danger Room, while "Mastermind" waved his hand in Maria's direction. As the latter did so, the Room suddenly resembled the dead landscape of the Moon. Despite herself, Maria checked to see if she had any oxygen to breathe. In fact, "Mastermind's" powers, being purely mental, were beyond the robot's capacity to mimic, so the change in scene was provided by the Room's computer programming. But it looked so realistic!
"Shift!" she heard Cyclops call out. "Six-A, full-team mode!" For a brief second, Maria had to think-what the hell was Six-A...? Oh, yes... The others gathered together, and Maria's left arm Shifted into a ball, her skin taking on the texture of rubber, with the X-Men sheltered inside it. The oxygen would last long enough until they could determine whether it was safe to breathe out in the "real" world-that is, where Maria remained. The right half of her body in this Shift form remained more-or-less "normal", and her entire head was out of the "circle" as well. She took a breath, and the oxygen was fine. Of course, this being one of "Mastermind's" illusions, there had been little question of their actually being on the surface of the Moon. But one could never be sure what Magneto was capable of. He had had Warren trapped in space not so long ago. With Maria on the team, they didn't have to take chances.
She took a swing at the "Mastermind" robot, but in this Shift form she was physically weak. What the hell. The air was fine. She Shifted back to normal, and said, "everything's OK, Cyclops. Air is good."
Cyclops nodded. "Marvel Girl," he said. "Magneto is here. Find him."
Jean nodded, and swept her telekinetic powers through the Danger Room. "Quicksilver", meanwhile, ran around the X-Men-and right into an ice-enclosure that Bobby had made. The robot sped right into the side of the enclosure, and smacked against it hard. It fell, and did not get up.
"Pietro!" a voice called, and Maria saw the "Scarlet Witch" robot make a gesture towards Bobby. The Angel flew quickly towards the "Witch", and made an astonishingly intricate manuever around her. Maria could see the robot getting confused. It's attention was broken, and Warren-to Maria's amusement, and definite approval-swung a fist at the "Scarlet Witch", knocking the robot out of the fight.
Meanwhile, Jean had swept her telekinetic powers through the room, and pointed to the corner opposite "Mastermind". "There, Cyclops!" she called out. She was pointing at a small shack, which appeared empty. But even as she did so, a large collection of metal debris that had been lying around the shack suddenly sprang to life, and quickly enveloped the Beast in a metal cocoon. "Magneto" appeared from the shack, with the "Toad" at his heels, hopping around the landscape frantically.
Cyclops immediately raised his visor and used his power-beam as a scalpel, scraping the metal overcoat from the Beast. As he was doing that, Maria noticed "Mastermind" to her right, raising his hand to create another illusion. "No, my boy, I think we've seen enough of that," she said to herself, and extended her arm towards him, her fist making contact with his face just before his illusion could establish itself. In her haste, she had thrown the punch with too much force, and the "face" of the robot came off, the gears and flashing lights being exposed beneath. Still, this did have the effect of disabling the robot, so he was out of the fight. Jean, meanwhile, had the "Toad" in the grip of her telekinesis, and was whirling him around and around. When she stopped, the robot looked groggy, and the Angel finished him off as he had the "Scarlet Witch".
In the meantime, Iceman, with "Quicksilver" lying prone in a corner, went at "Magneto" with an ice club. The latter shifted the floor of the Room under Bobby's feet, putting him off-balance. The Beast, liberated form his metal prison, was launching himself at "Magneto" feet-first, only to be stopped by a force-field. (And how, Maria wondered, had the Professor simulated that?) "X-Men!" Cyclops cried out. "Magneto Protocol, Two-basic! Shift-take the lead!"
Maria bent down to the floor and pounded it, sending a shock wave towards the robot. It seemed confused, and had to grab for balance. As it did so, Cyclops hit the force-field with a high-intensity power-blast, and Maria could see, from the robot's reactions, that the field was down. Immediately, Hank was on "Magneto", slamming right into the robot with all his strength. The robot went down, and as it tried to get its bearings, Marvel Girl picked it up with her telekinetic power and whirled it around as she had done with the "Toad". As she finished, Maria moved in and sent a strong right-wham!-at the robot's head. Unlike "Mastermind", there was no ripping open the robot's face, but it was down, and wasn't getting up. If only it could be this easy in real life, Maria thought.
The team took a breath, and surveyed the carnage. Well, Maria knew by now that this was easily repaired. The whole point of the Danger Room was to demolish it as efficiently as possible. A light went on in the control room above them.
"Well done, my X-Men," the Professor said. "Two minutes, twenty-four seconds. That sets a new record for the Brotherhood sequence."
Jean smiled. "We had some special help today, sir," she said, indicating Maria.
The Professor nodded. "Indeed, Jean. Well done, Maria. With one exception."
Maria didn't move or change expression. She knew what was coming.
"Maria-had this been a real combat situation, you might have injured or even killed 'Mastermind'. That punch was too hard. I'm afraid there will be be a demerit for that."
"Yes, sir," she said.
"As you know, Maria, we X-Men are pledged never to take life-either human or mutant. Not even in combat."
Maria considered this. That had been one of the rules she learned first- "there's always a way to avoid killing". She knew that in this test, she had over-reacted. But still...
"Professor," she said slowly, "I understand this. I approve the general idea. But..." There was silence, and she was keenly aware of the attention of the whole team on her now.
"But what, Maria?" the Professor asked carefully.
She took a mental deep breath, and pushed on. "Sir-what if there's a situation in which you have no choice between saving a fellow X-Man, or an enemy? You have a split-second, and if you delay, one of your teammate's lives will be in imminent danger. Does this rule override everything-even the lives of the others?"
The Professor looked thoughtful. "Maria-I cannot say what the answer to that should be. The question has never arisen, and I pray that it never does. But even to think in those terms is dangerous, though I know it is a natural question. If you go into combat thinking that killing can be a last resort, it will not remain a last resort."
"Yes, sir," Maria said quietly. "And yet, sir, we are in combat. The way soldiers are. And the goal of the infantry is clear-'to seek out and destroy the enemy.' " She paused, feeling unhappy. "Sir-you were a combat soldier in Korea. You know that phrase well. Some of our enemies are no less dangerous to the world than Hitler and his minions were. Professor-don't misunderstand me. The thought of killing sickens me, and I swear I shall do everything I can never to have to kill. And I promised you when I joined that I would obey your rules, and I have every intention of doing so, with no mental reservations at all." The others were very quiet, and she understood that something important was happening. "Professor-'seek out and destroy the enemy'. Not defeat him, thwart him, hamper his plans. Destroy. That was the rule of combat you lived by. Couldn't the case be made, that by not having us act similarly, you're tying our hands against enemies who have no such compunctions? Thereby endangering us all, and the broader world?" She stopped, and looked at the floor. "And sir-I sure hope you have a good answer, because I sure want to hear one."
There was silence for a long time, then they heard the Professor sigh. "X-Men-please come up to the control room." They did so, and when they were there, the Professor took Maria's hand.
"My dear child-if you had done nothing else since joining us, you have proved your worth today. By asking a simple-but very basic and obvious-question. And it deserves the most honest answer I can give you." He turned to the others. "Let us all be honest with each other, please. Does anyone else have thoughts regarding this matter?"
The other X-Men had a variety of emotions on their faces. Hank spoke first. " 'Violence is the last refuge of the incompetent', to quote our friend Dr Asimov. Well, sir, violence is our life in many ways. But there is a difference between violence and killing. You have trained us to be a team, sir, and to use our powers. You have also trained us in what being an X-Man is supposed to be. I do not want us to kill."
Warren looked sad. "I agree, sir-up to a point. But Maria's point also makes sense to me. Our enemies' lives are precious-up to the point when they endanger our own. If I had to choose beween them-I hope I don't, but if I do-then I'd prefer to save ours."
Bobby, back in his human form, shook his head. "Professor-I agree with you. We have to find a way. I don't know quite how-it really isn't something that can be taught in the Danger Room. But-" He shrugged helplessly. "I dunno, sir. That's just how I feel."
Jean looked unhappiest of all. "Professor-all of you. I am torn. I agree with you, Professor-in my head. In my heart-" She looked down at the Danger Room. "In the heat of battle, Professor, I don't know what would happen, if I felt the life of one of my fellow X-Men were in danger. I just don't know."
Cyclops stood as still as a statue. "Professor-you named me team leader. That means that I have a responsibility to the others, to bring them back from missions in one piece." He looked straight at Professor Xavier. "But this is your team, sir. You brought us together, and we are your instruments. If your rule is, 'there's always a way to avoid killing', then as team leader, it is my job to find that way." He looked at Maria. "I must say, Shift's presence on the team makes that task considerably easier, in my opinion."
The Professor said nothing, and after a moment the X-Men heard a sound they had never imagined-Charles Xavier was crying softly to himself. They all immediately went to him to offer their help, but he put his hand up. "It's all right," he said after a moment. "I'm fine." He took a handkerchief and dabbed his eyes with it, and turned to them.
"My X-Men-I have never been prouder of you all, than I am this day. This discussion has justified my faith in all of you." He turned to Scott. "My boy-if I had any lingering doubts about your fitness to lead this team, they are vanished. Somehow, these last few months, you have gone from being a child to a man. Your answer was that of one man to another." He turned to them all, and Maria noticed that Jean's face was beaming as she looked at Scott. "All of you-you graduated this day. But in a more important sense, today has been your rite of passage into adulthood. Your moral centers are sound, no matter what your answers to my query." He turned to Maria. "And you, my dear-you have watched, and observed. You have brought your own mature judgment, and your hard-won personal experiences, to the task of being an X-Man. I am more pleased than I can say, to have you as one of us."
He looked at the wreckage of the Danger Room. "I have an answer for Maria, for all of you. You see what the consequences of a simulated fight are, out there. Against robots with barely a fraction of the power of the real thing. And this is despite all of you pulling your punches, except for Maria's lapse. Imagine that fight occurring in the real world-against the real Brotherhood. Indeed, you don't have to imagine, because you have fought them. My X-Men-if we went into our fights without the rule against killing, then those would not be robots lying inert-they would be real corpses. Even if we told ourselves that it would be a last resort."
He looked off into space. "Yes, I killed in Korea-and it sickened me. I was often in the minds of the men I killed-I could hardly help this. Experiencing it was like being in Hell. The toll it takes on those doing the killing is terrible, far worse than you could imagine. It was then and there that I determined that if I ever had young mutants in my care, they would learn to fight-that could hardly be avoided. But they would not learn to kill.
"Look again at the carnage in the Danger Room, my X-Men. Imagine that every time we fought. Because it would come to that. Once we let slip these dogs of war, there would be no turning back. We would become that which we oppose. We would become a mirror-image of the Brotherhood. I shall not permit that."
He sighed, and looked beseechingly at the team. "You ask: what if it is their lives, or ours? Of course, I do not expect any of you to permit a teammate to die. If it should ever be a choice so stark, of course you save your fellow X-Man. But Scott is right. It is his job-your job-our job-to make sure that never happens. To be prepared enough to ensure that we avoid such circumstances." He turned to Maria. "My dear-this will be truest of all for you. With your powers, you can do great damage without even realizing it. That incident with the Mastermind robot is symbolic. Your strength is so great... You present immense opportunity, and danger. As Scott suggests, your very presence can help prevent killing, by making it easier to win our battles. But your strength can also be a danger. That is why you are so important, and why your training is so essential. But I have no doubts about your ability to absorb it. Maria, I have no doubts about you at all."
"Yes, sir," Maria said, looking at the floor as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.
"Maria-look up at me." She did so, and the Professor smiled at her. "My dear-your question was asked because of your concern for your fellow X-Men. For their safety. You have nothing to reproach yourself for." Maria said nothing, but then she suddenly sobbed and leaned over and hugged this man whom she loved like the father she had never really had. She stood up and gulped. "Sorry, sir," she said, and she would have blushed if she could have. The others were smiling broadly, and Maria noticed a particularly goofy grin on Jean's face.
"Does this answer your concerns?" he asked them all, and the smiles just remained, and they nodded and slowly made their way out of the Danger Room and back to the rest of the Mansion. Maria walked slowly, hardly noticing where she was going. She bumped into someone-
"Oh! I'm sorry, Bobby." Bobby Drake had a thoughtful smile on his face.
"Oh, that's OK, Maria," he said. "Every time I think I've learned something in this place, I find just how ignorant I really am." He looked right into her eyes. "Those eyes-they're really something, Maria."
She curtsied to him. "Why, thank you kindly, dear sir."
He grinned, and looked even younger than he was. "You know something? Your face kinda grows on a guy." And he was gone, and Maria went quickly to her room and started crying, not knowing if she was happy or sad and not caring either way.
Charles Xavier sat at his desk in the study. Cerebro's panels at his side showed the steady dim light of the known mutants: Magneto, Mastermind, the rest of the Brotherhood...the very dim light of Apocalypse, and watching this, Charles prayed that that particular light never went on. The others-the Shadow King, Logan, Sabertooth, Proteus, Shaw, many others-showed signs of dormancy. Others-The Vanisher and the Blob-showed the signs of the mental blocs he had placed on them. Charles sighed. This was a burden on him, the mental lobotomization of other minds. The more he did it, the easier it became, and the easier to justify. This was particularly true in the case of the Blob. The Vanisher had actually been a threat, so much so that the White House itself had called the X-Men in. But the Blob? He had simply been minding his own tawdry business, and had done nothing more "evil" than to reject membership in the X-Men. And Charles had been prepared to invade his mind and cut out his memories, just because of that.
He shook his head. That had not been a sufficient reason to take such an action. In the end, he had had to do it anyway-not just to the Blob, but to an entire circus troupe of his companions. It had been an arduous task, and an exhausting one. But he was beginning to feel that his excuse-keeping their identities secret-was no longer good enough. There had to be another way. One that didn't involve his violating the minds, the very souls, of others.
He looked out the window at the hot, but clear, July evening. The students-except for Maria of course-were all out, taking a well-earned night on the town. Charles smiled to himself. He had even managed to get Scott out of the School for once. Bobby and Hank were going to the Coffee-a-Go Go, though God knew what sort of place that was. Well, he trusted his students' judgment. They had asked Jean to come along, and she agreed, but only if Scott would come. That had put the poor boy on the spot, and he finally agreed with what he no doubt regarded as a smile. Warren then promptly declared that they would all need a chaperone, so he invited himself along, too. They had all left together, Jean having a firm hold on Scott's arm-in a friendly, comradely way. Or so she hoped it would appear, Charles thought to himself wryly. He wondered how long it would be before the two of them realized that everyone else knew all about how they felt towards each other. Being teenagers, the thought would mortify them. But being adults as well, probably not for long. And Charles Xavier definitely regarded Scott and Jean as adults now.
Charles listened closely. Maria was in one of the study halls, working on a project in American history and playing a Sibelius symphony on the stereo as she worked. He sighed. The poor child. What could she be thinking right now, as she worked here while the others were out by themselves? He was determined that Maria would not be treated like an outsider, or permitted to think of herself as one. How long could she stand never leaving the grounds of the School? He had invited her to a chess lesson, but she had wanted to get some schoolwork in. He would ask her again later, and this time he would not take "no" for an answer.
He leaned back in his chair, feeling suddenly melancholy. The job was so immense, and he had accomplished so little of it. The odds seemed overwhelming at times. Would he live to see the Promised Land, he wondered? Or would he spend forty years in the wilderness, and die before he arrived? His mouth twitched. That wasn't a particularly encouraging analogy.
And at that moment, Cerebro exploded.