Chapter Thirty-six

"Betty-could I see Mr Jameson, please? It's very brief, and very important." Frank Gianelli stood nervously outside his employer's office as Betty Brant checked with Jonah Jameson by phone.

"OK, Frank-he can fit you in," she finally told him. "But beware-he's unusually bearish today." Frank winced. Still, this had to be done.

"All right, Gianelli, what is it?" Jameson snarled at him the moment he entered the office. "Are you any further with the damned Sentinels?"

Frank walked right up to the desk, and placed an envelope on it. "Here, Mr Jameson," he said.

Jonah Jameson looked at the envelope, then at Frank. "All right, Gianelli, what is this? Your letter of resignation? I should accept it, considering the story that you haven't been getting to the bottom of-"

Frank cleared his throat. "Yes, Mr Jameson."

Jonah stopped cold. "Yes, what?"

"Yes, Mr Jameson, this is a letter of resignation. Effective immediately."

Jameson was totally silent for some time. Finally he said simply: "Would you care to explain, Gianelli?"

Frank shook his head. "No, sir. Just wait a few days, and I won't have to. You'll know why."

Jameson turned a dangerous color of red. "I don't appreciate games like this, Gianelli. Not at all."

Frank nodded. "Neither do I, sir. But I think in this particular case, it's appropriate. If I tried to explain-well, it would waste both of our time." He turned on his heel and walked quickly out of the room, before Jameson could say another word. He marched past Betty's desk, to the elevator, and down to the lobby. There was nothing at his desk he cared about. Best to let it remain, with all the other momentoes of his past.

Out on the sidewalk, he took a deep breath and shuddered slightly. That hadn't been so bad. Of course, his journalistic career was over. But that wouldn't be so bad, either. Now he had to find a way to earn a living, and get on with his life. He'd think of something.

The living room of the Mansion was large, but the crowd gathered filled it nicely even so. Charles was sitting in his chair by the fire, Scott and Jean on the sofa next to him, the other students crowded around them except for Maria who stood by the door to the hall, arms folded. Her brother Frank sat near her, and she was giving him encouragement. Charles sighed. The young man had quit his job earlier that day, because of his conflict of interest between keeping Maria's secret and his duty to investigate the X-Men. With the decision upon them, he wouldn't be able to juggle both balls anymore. Charles felt badly for him. He'd have to find some way of helping the young man-

The Worthingtons had pride of place, on the large sofa to Charles' right. The McCoy's sat in leather chairs to their right, and the Drake's to their right-and Charles' left. The Greys were on his further left. The fire was roaring, it was snowing lightly out, and he could see the snowflakes coming down in the dark outside.

"All of you," he said quietly but firmly. "All of you-thank you. Thank you for coming here, to discuss this matter. It is quite possibly the most important decision of these young people's lives, and we must make certain we are doing right by them."

There was quiet. John Grey finally broke the silence. "Very well, Charles." He turned to Maria. "Maria-this was your idea. Would you please explain what led you to feel this was the right choice for the X-Men to make?"

"Certainly, John." So Maria again explained what led her to speak out about this-the sword of Damocles that their enemies and journalists held over them, and the simple belief that by saying as they were, they were playing into their enemies' hands-both mutant, like Magneto, and the designs of the mutant-haters.

John listened to this carefully. "I see," he said after she had finished. "In other words-you felt that you were, perhaps unconsciously, validating their own opinions of you-that mutants were freaks who need to stay in the closet."

"Yes," Maria said, nodding. "That's it, John. That it was something to be ashamed of." She turned to Charles. "Sir-please believe me, I don't think you believed or felt this for a second. But I do feel that this is the way it worked out, despite our intentions." Charles nodded. He was here to listen, perhaps mediate, but not to make his own speeches. He had consciously decided that this would not be his decision, and he meant to stick to that resolve.

William Drake cleared his throat. "I must say, Professor, everyone, I agree. I had the shock of my life when Bob told me the truth. And poor Maddy had something worse than a shock. I have to admit, I didn't take it all that well." His son winced slightly, which William grunted at when he noticed. "Well, never mind. I've come around. I now feel this is the best place for my son to be. Maddy agrees. And if it is, I want the boy-all of you-to be standing on your feet, looking the world in the eye. Spitting in their eye, if need be. I'm in favor of this decision." Maddy Drake nodded her agreement, and Bobby gave them both a grateful look.

Warren Worthington Junior raised a hand. "This is all very well, but let's get some things straight. Xavier-you've hinted that some of the kids' enemies already know. I want to hear more about this. Who knows, and how much? Let's get this clarified before we go on."

Charles nodded. "An excellent question, Mr Worthington. In fact a number of our enemies know. Magneto and his Brotherhood-" There was a stirring among the families over that name. Charles could sense a lingering disbelief that Magneto, a bogeyman to so much of the world, was a living reality to their children. "-know all about us. It could hardly be otherwise, since Magneto and I onced lived together under this very roof. He was a young man named Eric Magnus Lehnsherr then, and was as idealistic as I was about the future of mutants We were going to create a new future together-for man and mutant alike."

His speech was met with astonishment on the part of the families. He had spoken it deliberately, in order to clear the air as much as possible. Warren Junior harrumphed.

"Well, Xavier, that's one of the most touching things I've ever heard. And I really mean that. But if this is so, why the hell hasn't he just attacked the Mansion with his damned Brotherhood long ago? Why does he let this Cold War between your two factions go on?"

Charles smiled slightly. "Probably for the same reason that the USA and the USSR don't launch their nuclear arsenals against each other. There would be no survivors, nothing to claim victory for. The same is true of us, I think. Magneto could certainly attack the Mansion, make a Pearl Harbor-style raid on us. He might even succeed, kill most or even all of us. But he'd have to be sure, because, quite frankly, he is well aware that if I survived such an attack, I could-and would-get such revenge that would make his victory worthless. I am not one to flaunt my own mutant powers, or use them to their fullest extent. That would change, if he made such an all-out assault, and I survived. I would strike back with no mercy. Magneto wears a helmet in order to block out my psychic powers. I permit him to think that this helmet would indeed protect him against me. It is a fool's hope on his part. If I were ever really roused, I could destroy him. He knows enough of this to stay his hand. Thus-a mutual balance-of-terror exists between the X-Men and the Brotherhood. Thus-we fight, for the most part, around the peripheries of each other, as the superpowers themselves do."

Worthington nodded. He seemed to admire the logic of this. "Go on, then."

"Very well. Another enemy of ours, the Blob, also knows who and where we are. I erased the memory of this from his mind once. I have not done so again, both because he seems uninterested in mutant affairs at this time, and because quite frankly I am finding doing this increasingly abhorrent. Wiping out memories, creating false ones, is a difficult and distasteful business. This is one of the main reasons why I'm glad we have decided to do what we are doing. So that I won't have to mind-wipe innocent people anymore, simply in order to safeguard ourselves."

Edna McCoy nodded her head vigorously. "I can see that, Professor Xavier," she said with certainty. "I should think that that was a very wrong thing to do."

Charles coughed, feeling embarrassed by this simple-but good-woman's directness. "Indeed, Mrs McCoy. There is also the so-called Mad Thinker."

Frank Gianelli frowned. "The Thinker? Isn't he an FF enemy?"

"We, too, have encountered him." He saw Maria freeze up; she was wondering how much he was going to say about their recent encounter. He smiled gently at her, and went on. "He attacked the Mansion several weeks ago. With his so-called Awesome Android. We defeated him readily, but the very fact that he was here indicates that he knows of us, of our identities. In fact, he deliberately baited us by calling several of us by our proper names. It was this incident, in fact, that got Maria to thinking about our present course of action."

"In other words," Warren Junior said with a hint of disgust in his voice, "the whole damned world seems to know who you are, Xavier. It's lucky you haven't been exposed long ago."

"We had come to pretty much the same conclusion, Mr Worthington," Charles said. "There are also individuals within the government who know our identities, too. And government agencies have an unfortunate tendency to leak." He hesitated, and went on. "There are also certain-individuals-who might know, but keep our secret for their own reasons. Individuals whom I know of, but no one else does." He was thinking of Essex, and possibly Apocalypse as well. His X-Men looked at him with genuine curiosity, but a quick shake of his head encouraged them not to question him at this juncture.

"My word, Charles," Elaine Grey said. "It seems as if you've been very lucky, as Mr Worthington said. I had no idea- You haven't been thinking about this, preparing for the day when everything might come unstuck?"

"Frankly, no," Charles said. "And that is my mistake. I assumed that the balance-of-terror with Magneto would go on forever. That no one would want to expose us. The Thinker has changed this to some extent, and Maria's arguments, the more I considered them, were making more and more sense."

"Fine," William Drake said. "But now let's get down to nuts-and-bolts. Are our lives going to be in more danger if you do this?"

Charles spread his hands. "William-I truly cannot say. One can argue that you'll be in greater danger, or that you'll be safer. At least you won't be in the dark. You-any of you-could conceivably been killed or abducted at any time, without having the slightest idea why. But forewarned is forearmed. All of you are parents of X-Men. This is a simple fact. Given how many people do know about us, you have all been in danger from the very beginning, if you wish to think of it that way."

"How else should we think of it?" Kathryn Worthington said, looking closely at her son.

"By knowing that you have powerful friends," Charles said. "You have us. You have the FBI. You would have the Fantastic Four and the Avengers, if needed. And I have assets not directly connected to the X-Men, whom I could utilize if need be." There was another stir among his students at this. Charles sighed. He had hoped that he would never have to bring up the names Sean Cassidy, Stephen Strange, Amy Voght, Moira McTaggert, much less Dr Nemesis or Logan. Maybe he wouldn't have to. He hoped so.

"I'm not afraid," Norton McCoy said simply. "Any cop on the beat or soldier in battle has family someone could get to. They don't let that stop them. Hank and his friends are doing important work. I think the world should know about it. I'm in favor of this."

"As am I," his wife said.

John Grey was still frowning. "I'm not sure I'm entirely happy at the disruption this would bring to my life, my family's life. But that is a selfish, parochial concern. If families of other celebrities can do it, we can do it." He turned to his daughter. "Jean-once this happens, things will never be the same. Your life will never be the same. You do realize that, don't you?"

She squeezed Scott's hand, and gave her father what Charles thought was a radiant smile. "I'm ready, Dad," she said. "I simply think Maria is right. By wearing masks and hiding ourselves, we're making mutants seem dark and spooky in the public's mind. The only mutants they see openly proclaiming themselves are Magneto and his crew. And I think that's wrong."

Warren Junior looked darkly at Charles. "That's great, Xavier. And fine as far as it goes. But does it go far enough? Something is bound to come up that none of you have foreseen. It always does. And it just might come from where you least expect it and bite you in the-ahem-behind."

His son shrugged. "Dad-that's true of everyone's life, at all times. Life is just one damned thing after another. There isn't much we can do but try our best, and hope we've made the right decisions. In this case, we're all pretty much agreed."

His father still seemed unconvinced. "OK, boy." He turned to Maria. "But you, Miss Gianelli. Are you sure that you aren't rationalizing all this, just because you're tired of hanging around here all the damned time? Not that I'd blame you, mind you. But can you honestly say that isn't one of your motives?"

Maria smiled at Warren Junior. "No, Mr Worthington, of course I can't say that. I'd be lying if I did. But I don't think that's what this is all about, if that's what you mean."

Warren Junior grunted, but said no more. There was silence for a time. Charles finally broke it.

"I think we've reached the point where we can all speak our minds," he said. "I have said from the start that this is their decision. I want to ask everyone in this room how they feel, beginning with my students. Then we can see if we have a consensus." He turned to Maria. "My dear-if you'll start? I can guess what you'll say, but this is for the record, as you might say. If you please."

Maria stood like she was reciting in school. "I believe that revealing ourselves will be a good thing, Professor, everyone. For the reasons I've given. It is long overdue, and should be taken by us while we still can take the initiative in the matter. That's all."

Charles nodded. "Very well. Robert?"

Bobby started. "Who, me?" He laughed. "OK, Prof. What Maria said makes sense to me. And I'm just tired of all the deception, the lies. It feels good to talk this out honestly with all you people here. I hope it becomes a habit. I'm for it, Professor."

"Good." Charles turned to Hank. "If you please, Henry."

"This course of action has been in my mind, sir, for longer than Maria has been at the School. I didn't feel though that it was my business to question your decisions. I am still rather uneasy at that aspect of it. I don't like feeling, sir, that we're forcing your hand in any way. But as for the decision itself, well, I'm for it. With alacrity."

Charles smiled. "Thank you, Hank. I assure you, you're not 'forcing my hand' in the slightest. -Warren?"

The young mutant stood up and slowly flexed his wings. "I can fly. I can soar in the clouds. It seems natural to me, just as much as walking does to any of you. My wings are as much a part of me, as your legs are part of you. I've spent years holding them in, hiding them behind a harness. I'm tired of it. I don't want to do that anymore. It's a lie, like a light-skinned Negro 'passing' as a white man. To hell with it." He turned to the Professor. "Sir-I'm for it. Enthusiastically."

"Thank you, Warren. Scott?"

That intense young man thought for a second. "Well, this will complicate our lives. There's no point in denying that. But our lives are pretty complicated already. And I have personal reasons for wanting this." The others looked curiously at Scott, as Charles recognized a cryptic reference to his brother Alex. "If the others are convinced, I certainly won't stand in their way. This seems right to me. I'm for it, sir."

Charles took a deep breath. This was going well. Maybe too well. Someone, anyone, should be advising caution. Maybe himself. But he didn't want to. Is this the biggest mistake of my life? God knows. We'll see. "Jean?" he said.

"You know what I think, sir," she said. "I agree with Maria. I support this for all the right reasons. I'm for it, Professor."

"Well, then, we see what my students think," Charles said. "Let's see about the rest of you-Frank?"

Maria's brother shrugged good-naturedly. "Since I've already lost a pretty good job over this matter, I figure it's a bit late to oppose it now. I'm with you, kid," he said, squeezing Maria's hand. She bent over and kissed him.

"Mr McCoy?" he asked Hank's father.

He squirmed in his seat and looked nervous. Charles felt that the McCoy's weren't always comfortable in the presence of the others, particularly the Worthingtons. "I've said my piece," Norton McCoy said. "Hank is doing a good thing. The world should know. I'm not afraid."

That was a good answer, Charles thought. "Mrs McCoy?" he asked Hank's mother.

"I agree with my husband," she said. "If any trouble comes of this, we'll handle it. But it's the right thing to do."

"Thank you, Edna," Charles said appreciatively. "Mr Worthington?"

Warren Junior looked at Maria, then his son, then Jean, then Charles. "I must be out of my mind, but I rather think I agree," he said. "Miss-" he said, looking at Maria, "I think this, in particular, will help you. Oh, I don't mean because you'll be able to get out and around, though that a blessing to you, surely. No-I mean, I think that you'll be safer going public. And in that way, all the rest of you will be, too. Including my son. So, yes, I support it. It'll mean trouble, but I'm a Worthington. I can handle that."

Charles nodded, wondering again at the mysterious reference Warren Junior made to some sort of problem or danger regarding Maria. She smiled at Warren Junior, but Charles could tell she was wondering, too-as was Warren the Third. "Mrs Worthington?"

"Oh, there's no doubt, is there? I think Warrie's just too heroic, doing what he does. I think you all are. If the Fantastic Four can do it, Warrie can do it. I'm in favor."

Charles was pleased-and surprised-by the unanimity so far. "Elaine?" he asked.

"I'd be lying if I said I didn't have mixed feelings," she said, looking carefully at her daughter. "No matter what, I can't help but feel that this will increase the danger to Jean. But that just might be my fear of her being an X-Man at all talking. She is so young, so idealistic-and I think that that's a good thing to be. I'm supporting the move."

"Thank you, Elaine. -John?"

John Grey looked very hard at the X-Men. "I'm not necessarily so much in favor of youthful idealism as my wife is. We're living in an era of youthful enthusiasm, and I for one am suspicious of it. But we're also in an era of liberation. Negroes, colonial people, everywhere ancient wrongs are being righted. No always prettily, not always without a lot of mistakes being made along the way. I think that that'll be true for this decision, all right. But it's also the right decision. I'm proud of my girl, and I want the world to be, too. I'll support this, and I'll be happy to stand by her all the way."

"Thanks, Dad," Jean said, that same radiant smile on her face. John flushed, and just nodded.

"Excellent," Charles said. "Mr Drake?"

William Drake waved a hand wearily. "We've talked this out, Professor. No more talk. I'm for it. Let's do it."

"Thank you, William. Mrs Drake?"

Bobby made a face. If there was to be "no more talk", Charles thought, Maddy Drake was perhaps not the right person to be asked. But she just smiled calmly and nodded.

"I agree with Bill. We've talked enough. I'm a little scared-for him, and I'm not a liar, just a little for me. But no more than I would have been anyway. I approve, Professor Xavier."

Charles Xavier shut his eyes. He felt such a glow in the room- He opened them and saw his students hugging each other. John Grey kissed Jean, then Maria. William Drake shook his son's hand, then Scott's. The McCoys hugged Maria, and soon all of them had-even Warren Junior. There were details to be worked out, and things to do to get ready. That could wait. For now, this moment was enough.

Early the next morning, Charles made a call to Fred Duncan, informing him of their decision. Duncan seemed stunned, but didn't argue the point. He seemed, in fact, to quietly feel they had made the right decision. Twenty minutes after he had hung up, Charles received a call.

"Professor Xavier?" A familiar voice said into his ear.

"Mr Hoover!" Charles said. "How are you, sir?"

"Fine, Professor, just fine. I understand you're going to be revealing your identities to the world?"

That was quick, Charles thought. "Yes, sir. We've considered the matter carefully, and are convinced we're doing the right thing."

"Well, all I wanted to say is that I completely support your decision," Hoover said in his crisp voice. "Those are six fine young people you have there. I feel sure that this will greatly improve human-mutant relations."

Charles felt a wave of relief wash over him. "Thank you for saying that, Mr Hoover. It means a great deal, to have your approval."

"By the way-did Dr King influence you in any way?"

Charles was cautious. He knew something about Hoover's unfortunate feelings regarding Martin. "He did, sir. And his help was greatly appreciated."

A pause. "Well, that's good, then, Professor. He and I agree on something. Maybe there's hope for all of us."

"If I didn't believe that, sir, I couldn't so my job."

It was only a half-hour later that another call came. "Xavier?" a voice said in a Texas drawl, and Charles recognized this voice instantly.

"Yes, Mr President?" Charles said.

"You're all really gonna take your masks off and show your faces to the world?"

"We are, sir."

"Well, that's fine," Johnson said carefully. "That's just fine. You're all free American citizens, and welcome to do what you want."

"Yes, sir."

"This girl, this Maria. She's quite a spitfire, isn't she?"

Charles almost laughed. "I should say that that was accurate, sir."

"Ummm. Her idea, then?"

"It is, sir. And we're all proud of her."

"Poor kid," Johnson said. "Can't be easy, bein' her."

"Not always, sir. But Maria is very much alive, very much in love with life. She's happy, Mr President."

There was a pause. "You're the lucky one, Professor, havin' kids like that workin' for you. This country appreciates what you've done for it."

"Thank you, Mr President."

Another pause. "Professor-I'm gonna level with you. There are people out there who don't appreciate what you've done. And they aren't gonna be appeased by your actions. Now, I have these people on a damned short leash. There's nothin' for you to worry about. But they do exist, Professor Xavier, and this announcement just might make some of 'em bolder. I hope you've taken that into account."

"I think so, sir. And I appreciate your words. Thank you for taking us into your confidence."

"You've deserved it," Johnson said, and their call ended naturally a moment later. Charles sat back. I wonder if he was warning me about these 'Sentinels'. I wonder very much. Well, having a friend in the White House-and FBI Director's chair-helps. Yes-we are doing the right thing.