Part Eight

The Long Spoon (3)




No one had seen Hank unleashed his bad side since the days of Stryfe's virus infected Xavier. And that paled in comparison with what they had withstood today.

In one day, someone - or something - managed to turn the ever immaculately dressed doctor into a shadow of his former being. Now Hank was nothing more than a pile of flesh and bones with restless eyes and distrusting look about him. All thanks to whoever that managed to pull off what Ray called 'an impossible feat'.

Xavier sat silently in the living room while the rest of the X-Men - his X-Men - either drank coffee or talked in whispers with each other. None of these people were capable of achieving what had happened in Hank's computer room. Emma was in the showers when that happened. Ray was beside him sorting the letters that had arrived yesterday. Rogue was in one of the students' room, making her rounds. Elisabeth was on the phone with Dr Cecelia Reyes, just outside his study. Logan...

"Logan," he began, " where were you when that happened?"

Logan raised his head questioningly, then seemed to realize what the question was. "I was outside... in the gazebo outside."

"I can certify that, Professor," Ororo suddenly butted in. "I was with him."

A scandalizing silence descended for a while. Logan immediately added, "Nothing happened, for land's sake! You guys! It doesn't mean that each time I go out with a woman I'd go straight ahead!"

"No need to explain, Logan. We understand," Xavier said, cutting off further protests from him. "Then one big question remains. Who deleted those mails? How would he/she know that everything that could have uncovered this whole mystery is in those mails?"

"Don't forget the fingerprints," Ray added. "We've scanned over and over again until Cerebro got tired and the result was the same. They were Jubilee's."

"Not forgetting that sliver of cloth in her fist," Elisabeth said. "How did that get there?"

"It couldn't have," Kurt said, looking at Logan suspiciously, "unless Logan did something when he got close to her."

Logan eyed Kurt warily. "Don't start, elf."

"You were the one who came close enough to her body," Kurt said.

"Oh yeah? Then I wasn't the only one who could have! How about you elf?! Where were you?"

"I was in my bedroom!"

"Who can say it's true?" Logan asked angrily.

"There was nobody in my room! How do you suppose I can?"

"Then you're the guilty party!" Logan said aloud, much to everyone's surprise. "You have the ability to teleport yourself to anywhere you like, and conveniently, in silence, too!"

"We checked that possibility too, Logan," Emma said. "We all know that Kurt leaves brimstone scent behind every time he teleports, but there was no such thing when Hank entered the room. No funny smells, no nothing."

Logan watched exasperatedly as Kurt gravely smiled. "Then... who did this? Ray said that Cerebro's mainframe logbook didn't registered anyone else after Piotr's entrance at ten. Who else could have done it?"

Even as Logan's question died away, one answer was hanging in the air, but no one dared to say it. Rogue finally said it.

"Hank...?"



Remy had a dream:

He was in 18th century France, when the Revolution had exploded and somehow he became one of the first damned on one of the most infamous executing machine of all time: the guillotine.

At first Remy did not know where he was; it was all darkness and dank. He felt rough hands grabbed him in both arms and suddenly bright light exploded in his brains that made him reel for a moment. When his vision slowly improved he could see that beside him there were two burly guards and they stared at him in the most sickening manner. It made Remy's stomach lurch.

Just then someone began throwing thrash at him and full assault began. Not only on his body but on his senses as well; mind, body and soul. Lining up beside the streets, it was like the whole Paris had went put to see his head roll into the basket.

The next thing he knew he was standing beside the tall parallel beams, the sharp razor-like blade hanging precariously by a rope. Remy's view were minimized to that blade even as he was forced to lay belly up on the platform. As the guards placed the fastening wood over his neck Remy saw something else hovering behind the massive blade.

When Remy was about to ascertain what he had seen the blade fell down at a blinding speed.

He woke up just in time to feel the cold edge of the blade grazed the skin of his neck. As he got up he touched his neck, unsure if his head really was still on his neck. He turned to the dressing table and switched on the light.

Just short of missing his Adam's apple was a long reddish line going from right to left. As he watched in disbelief the line began to bleed.

Right then and there Remy knew he needed more than his own petty courage to face du Boudreault.



"Hank, open the door!"

Hank was not listening. The New York map was all over the table, with red circles and notes all over it. Now and then his eyes would jump restlessly toward the computer screen and back again, while slowly crossing out the notes seemingly at random and adding up new ones. There has to be an explanation, his mind feverishly insisted.

Meanwhile the door rattled as someone tried to force it open. Hank paid no attention.

All the circles on the map seemed to center almost exclusively around Manhattan and Central Park. Hank watched silently as his head worked out every possible explanation of what he was looking at right now.

It was fortunate that Fredland's National Online News Service agreed to make a re-send on the news he had requested. Now that everything seemed to be in order, the enigmatic poem Boudreault supposedly sent them seemed to be the final piece to this whole mess.

Just as then the door flew open. Logan entered, followed by Ray and Bobby. "Hank, you're coming out."

"No," he firmly said.

"Hank, we need to talk to you for a moment. There's no use fighting," Bobby said.

"Doc, ye're gonna have a little chit-chat with Professor," Logan said.

"Why?"

"We think you're the one behind these strange things."

Hank slowly looked up from the map, anger ready to pop up from his brows. "And the reason is... ?"

"You have all the equipment and knowledge to presumably concoct a biological agent that would create a reaction in humans similar to arrhythmia," Bobby said. "Emma claimed to see you administered a shot to Jubilee and Piotr the other day - "

Anger coming from one of the calmest members of the X-Men was a sight to behold,... or to run away from. "That was for their cold! Not to mention it happened a week ago!!" Hank shouted, the tiny proximity of his computer room made his shouts all the more frightening. "For the love of Hippocrates, I will never disobey the Doctor's Oath! What could have forced you, of all people, to jump into such conclusions!? I will never kill my own patients!"

"I'm sorry," Ray said almost tearfully. "But everyone seems to think you did this, Hank."

"NO!" Hank shouted as he tried to barge through the human barricade. "I will not stand in silence! I am innocent!" he shouted even as Logan and Bobby restrained him. "I don't kill my friends or patients!!"

Suddenly Bobby's hold on Hank slipped and Hank yanked free from Logan's hold. Seizing the chance, he immediately ran down the corridor. At the other end he bumped into Kitty who was in tears.

"Hank, oh, please help me!" she shouted hysterically.

"I am trying to save my own fur here, Kitty, so get lost!"

"Please, Hank! Rogue... Rogue's fainted! There are blood coming out of her mouth and nose and everywhere and I don't know how it happened - "



Xavier slumped in his wheelchair when he heard what Hank told him. "Not again," he groaned.

"Cruel this may seem, this is a perfect timing. Indeed," Hank went on as angered stares were directed to him, "this has essentially proven my innocence."

"How's that?" Kurt asked angrily.

"Emma will confirm that the shots I gave Piotr and Jubilee were harmless, and Rogue never met me for a medical consultation. And I deeply and honestly confess to all of you, my friends, that I have never created a biological agent that will bring any sort of threat to humankind and mutantkind alike."

"Then how do you explain this? Rogue's the third person to contract this... ailment in just one night!"

"Give me time, my friends, and I will go to the bottom of this. And for your own sakes, go and get some sleep. It's already dawn."

"I can't sleep," Logan said. "Not when everyone around me are dropping like flies."

"Neither can I," Kurt said.

To be continued...