Part Ten

And the Gods Laughed



"Are you telling me that Piotr, the comatose man, is doing this?!" Logan screamed. For someone whose animal instincts are a second nature, Logan seemed almost losing his head. "Where is the scientifically correct doc I used to know?!"

"But the video showed it all, Logan! That's a definite proof!" Ray relented angrily.

"Maybe you put some fancy tech on it to make the movie look like this," Logan silently said, his voice bitterly accusing.

Hank exasperatedly said, "We did not, Logan."

"Then how in the hell - "

"We don't know, and we are not even close to finding out. That is, if we continue to approach this matter scientifically. To paraphrase the old Sherlock Holmes, a solution, no matter how farfetched it sounds, if there is no other solution possible, is the true solution."

"Are you suggesting that this is a paranormal incident?" Kurt said slowly. Hank's mind never bothered to dabble in the unknown as long as he could recall. "This should prove rather... unbelievable."

Hank sighed. "At this point, I'm on the verge of trusting psychic hotlines. Let me show all of you what I have managed to collect for the past twenty-four hours."

All gathered closer. Hank spread the New York map and a paper where he had outlined the events that had occurred beginning from the midnight caller until today. Half an hour later silence shrouded the room. Logan rose from his seat and paced around restlessly. "You've gotta be kiddin', doc. Don't tell me du Boudreault's really back? Where is he then?"

"That and the methods of how will remain unknown for the moment. What mattered now is Remy's safety and the condition of our fellow comatose friends."

"Maybe du Boudreault is somewhere in Manhattan too," said Kitty.

"How does this ties in to what we received from that strange ad?" Kurt asked. "That still doesn't make sense to me."

"That was why Remy had been so firm in his belief." Hank recounted to them a strange case in Orleans, France two years ago where, while the forensics found human hair, tissue and blood all over the place that could have suggested foul play, both the victim and the murderer was never found. He showed them the printed version of the news.

"It's... it's so similar," Jean said. "Just like the one we saw in the news the other day."

"You think Remy's a part of this?"

"I'm afraid so. About an hour ago he called me. We managed to trace his call."

Logan was the first to pounce. "Where?"

Ray held out a hand. "Cool it, Logan. We are still waiting for professor's word."

"He's using Cerebro to track Remy? Only now he uses that stuff?"

"Do you remember what happened the last time he used it to find Remy with du Boudreault's powers around?" Hank asked him.



Xavier was now flying over Central Park. His body was in Westchester, but his mind was tracking Remy. The last position Hank gave him had proven fruitless; Remy must have moved away.

What in the world had caused this man to be chased by someone who was probably already dead? What bitter memories do they share that it even seem worthy to leave his students' life in balance? Xavier felt his control wavered for a moment before he hastened to concentrate on Remy's mind.

Disturbance. Usually a small disturbance was caused by normal human with a small degree of psychic qualities like premonitions or heightened sensitivity. This one almost cancelled his own out. Xavier could sense Remy in that direction, too. As he prepared to move toward the source, he sensed that same disturbance again. This time it got stronger each moment he moved closer. But the resistance was temporary, and Xavier subtly cancelled out the disturbance.

He found himself standing in a lavish restaurant. There was a maitrê d' who stood over a couple and gave them their orders. Xavier heard in his mind he said in French de la confiture aimons bon appetit, monsieur et mademoiselle. Xavier mind spun. There was a new French restaurant in the Manhattan's vicinity named La Confiture. He made a mind note of that.

Xavier waited. The sense of disturbance filled the air again, so palpable he could almost feel it sink into his astral form. Just as he was about to turn he sensed Remy's mind below him.



"You're goddamned lying," he said. From the wine glass he finished the champagne in one swift sip. "You're a goddamned liar."

Penelope could not move or protest; her strength was entirely taken from her after what she saw in the park this morning. Louis sensed her thoughts on planning to escape, and now she was his puppet, moving only when he consented so.

"I am not lying, Louis," she said with great difficulty. "There's the truth; why don't you swallow it? You worked so hard for it; why can't you face it now?"

"Don't try my patience, woman," Louis said between gritted teeth. "I have tried to stop my hand from striking your worthless face since yesterday."

"Then why don't you just kill me, dammit?" Penelope said angrily. "If I am worthless there's no use keeping me here."

A sudden smile lit up Louis' face; the view was frightening. "You are worthless, yes, but not for long. There are still some things you need to accomplish before I let you return."

"If you ever let me return. I know you, Louis. You're never satisfied unless everyone around you is nothing but flesh and bone, lifeless."

"And what are we, my dear Penny? Are we nothing of what you have just said? We're nothing but illusions for the human eye. Underneath is what who we really are."

"Stop philosophizing, Louis. It makes me sick."

"I never realized I had the talent, Penny. After my resurrection I feel a bit different," he pointed at his left temple, "here. Maybe what Remy gave my head the other day took out something and put something more valuable in it. I have to thank him for that."

At the mention of Remy's name her eyes welled up with tears. She did not even dare to think of him because Louis could see them, but she could not help it. They were too strong, even for someone who had died two years ago and resurrected yesterday. One tear traveled down her cheek.

"Oh, you're crying. Here, let me wipe it," Louis said as he reached to wipe it off. She moved her face away from his hand, much to his anger. Louis narrowed his eyes and Penelope found herself moving toward his waiting hand. When he touched her cheek she never felt dirtier in her life... or death.

Suddenly the psychic hold was gone in an instant that Penelope fell back on her chair, nearly knocking herself off to the floor. Louis' eyes were narrower, if possible, and more restless. Then he grinned, wolf-like and deadly.

"Well, if it isn't the Head himself," he said, staring at the entrance. "You'll make a precious addition to my army of souls."



Xavier never felt this naked and vulnerable.

Before he could even move, Louis' searching glance pinned him directly on the wall. He could not move from the overwhelming power and felt unseen fangs sunk under his forearms and arms and slowly draining him. God, help me! There is no time to call for my X-Men...

Just as his astral form began to fade he sensed another familiar mind... it was Remy, just outside. He sensed Remy's muddled mind, tasted his fears and worries, and with the last grains of strength he focused on Remy.



The sudden psychic slam in his brain was so intense he slipped and hit his head on the pavement. The passers-by quickly moved aside, fearing a crazy man on the verge of amok. Remy stared blindly at the sun as his hands held his painfully throbbing head.

This is Xavier, Remy. You must listen to me.

Remy sensed that this was not one of Louis' trick and he tried to listen.

I need your help, Remy. Go up this restaurant, the La Confiture. You will find Louis at the fourth table. He's trying to kill me. You'll be able to inflict mortal wounds on him as he is deep in astral realm. Hurry, Remy. There is no more time left. He's gotten hold on me.

Remy slowly got up and looked around. There was a signboard that said La Confiture. Quickly he wiped his bleeding head and rushed inside.

The maitrê d' saw him and noticed his bleeding head and decided that Remy was some troublemaker. "I'm sorry monsieur, but do you have a reservation?"

"Damn de reservation! Gambit's here to save someone!"

"But sir - "

Remy pushed him aside and strode with predatory speed toward the fourth table. Sitting at the table was a trim man in his fifties and a young woman who stared at him fearfully. Dis has to be a mistake, Remy thought. Dis must be Louis' trick!

No! screamed Xavier into his head. That is Louis, Remy! You have to trust me!

Suddenly the young woman pulled his arm toward her and they stood face to face. Just as then her face became liquid before it settled into a face Remy thought he'd never see again.

"Remy! Release me!" she whispered to him painfully.

Without hesitation now he moved toward the old man in white and charging a spoon that he took from the table to its fullest he threw it to his head. As expected it exploded and the patrons of the restaurant screamed at the sight.

Remy did not wait; he quickly took off as Xavier had told him with the woman he had seen with his own eyes died two years ago in Orleans.



Ororo saw the red lights flashed over the entrance to Cerebro and waited nervously as she informed Jean. Later the door opened and she found Xavier lying on the floor. "Professor! Are you all right? Answer me!"

Xavier stirred, coughed and opened his eyes. "Ah... you're a sight for sore eyes, Ororo." He coughed again, and this time it drew out blood. Minutes later Jean was beside him on a makeshift ward.

"What happened, professor?" Jean asked.

He smiled bitterly. "I know what in the world is happening."

"So did Hank claimed, but we're no closer from where we started." Jean said tiredly.

He laughed deep in his chest. "But of course. Hank used his head to decipher things. I used my mind and the man's behind Louis du Boudreault's personality. And believe me, I'll never want to go there again. Ever."

"So what is it?"

To be continued...