Note: This takes place about ten years or so in the future from the current period in time of the X-Books.
He Told Me So
I was ten when I suppose
this story should start. Momma wasn't around then; she wasn't
going to have anything to do with Poppa at that time. They'd been
fighting again--a lot. She was in Attilan, Poppa and I in New
York with the Avengers. Poppa had taken to leave from Magneto's
cabinet to be with me. It had taken some work from Aunt Wanda to
convince my Momma to let me stay with Poppa instead of going to
to Attilan with her. To this day I don't know how she did it.
I suppose my curiosity about my grandfather was really sparked
then at the Avenger's place. I'd have been outside, but the
pollution was more intense than normal. Though I am only half
Inhuman, the pollution does have its ill effects on me to this
day. If I'd have been outside, I've thought about how much my
life would have been different.
Poppa was talking about him with Aunt Wanda. I was in the other
room, at the kitchen table, reading J.R.R. Tolkien or some such
fantasy, which was, more or less, close to my reality. It took
the thrill out of fantasy to be *living* something so close to
it.
I remember clearly on that day hearing Poppa say, "Well, no
matter what you want, sister, he told me to tell you he loves
you. You can't stop him from feeling that way."
"He doesn't love us, Pietro. He never has! He only wants us
as weapons!" Aunt Wanda said in her typical overly
melodramatic voice. I heard her bangle bracelets shake about as
she said this.
"The man has his weapons, Wanda. They are several hundred
thousand Genoshan Mutates," my Poppa said in a voice like he
was talking to an ignorant child. I heard Aunt Wanda huff
angrily.
My grandfather is the ruler of an island off of Africa called
Genosha. The United Nations gave it to him hoping that it would
consume him, that the war there would kill him off. It didn't--
it made his stronger. The UN made a horrible mistake and they
regret it every day, I am sure.
My grandfather, Magento, has his precious inner circle of which
my father is once again a part of, even after the debacle with
Lorna Dane, The Avengers, and Aunt Wanda. If there is one thing I
have picked up about my grandfather, he is overly forgiving of
his children's disloyalty. But then, they *are* his children.
"The Mutates..." Wanda muttered, "Those poor
souls..."
Cousin Gorgon had explained to me what the Genosha Mutates were
about three years previously. They were like the Alpha Primates
that work below my beloved Attilan. Humans made them for slave
labor like my people had made the Alpha Primates a millennia ago.
Cousin Gorgon had me promise I wouldn't tell anyone he'd told me.
He wasn't supposed to--Aunt Medusa and Momma had made him swear
he wouldn't tell me! I gave my dear elder cousin my word and to
this day no one is the wiser.
"He does love us, Wanda! He has to, he's our father!"
Poppa cried at my poor, distraught aunt. "I'll admit, the
man isn't a good man--he isn't perfect and has a lot of
issues--"
"Issues is the least of it! And what he holds for us is not
*love*, it is *wanting*! He want's us for his own plans of
overthrowing humanity!" my aunt nearly screamed at Poppa. I
could tell by her voice she was near tears, as she was when she
talked of my late cousins Thomas and William--Agon protect them.
Overthrowing humanity. My only grandfather's only goal in life.
He, I think, has given up on the goal now that he is older.
Sometimes I wonder how he has managed to survive all the wars and
assassinations and horrible words slung at him. Ah, well, it
isn't of much use in the long run to try and find out why.
"You may live in denial my sister, I will not!" Poppa
told my now teary-eyed aunt.
I almost laughed. Laughed because at times I had heard my father
declare for all the world he was not the son of Magneto. He is,
there is no denying that. Poppa is an unbelievable hypocrite at
times.
Suddenly I heard the calm side of my Poppa say, "He's older
now -- still as shrewd and hateful toward humans-- but, giving
more thought to his actions. Understand, sister, he no longer
howls for the blood of humanity. He just wants to reconcile; see
the family he never had."
This was a new side of my father. At this point my book was
forgotten; my curiosity peaked.
"Then why have you not brought Luna to see him? Does not he
want to see his only grandchild?" Wanda probed. Me? I had
not even thought about Magneto's possible interest in me. I
didn't really even think he knew I existed.
"Luna," my father said in his deepest, most commanding
voice, "is not a part of this. I say it now and it will not
be brought up again."
That was what made me curious as all get out. Why can't he see
me? I wondered as I sat at my the Avenger's Mansion kitchen
table. I had heard Poppa talk about how horrible the man was, but
now I was even yet more curious.
For the next seven years I read old articles on microfiche in the
libraries I had access to when I lived with Momma and the
Fantastic Four and then sometimes with just Poppa or both my
"loving" parents at the Avenger's Manison. They didn't
know I was reading about my grandfather. I told them I was
reading a bunch of refence books, which wasn't a *total* lie.
I suppose that curiosity is what had brought me there. I agreed
to meet Magento at this small café here in Brooklyn. He called
me, learning somehow that I am living on my own here in New York.
In fact, my apartment is only four blocks away from it.
And there he walked, coming toward me table. He walked tall and
strong dispite his age and health. And I thought, Blood
of Agon, he looks more like Poppa than I imagined!
"Luna, my dear," he said as he came to the table.
"Hello, uhm-uh.." I was unsure of what to call him. I
smiled and stood up, anyway. He hugged me, unsure of his action
and what he was supposed to do when meeting his only grandchild
for the first time in many, many years. I could smell some strong
after-shave on him.
"You are beautiful, my dear. You look just like your
mother," he said, smiling all over. I hadn't ever seen the
man smile in any picture.
We sat down at the small table on the outdoor patio of the café.
I already had a cup of cappuccino sitting on the small
marble-toped table. "Would you like something to drink, my
treat," I said, trying to be sociable. He just sort of
smiled.
"Certainly, my dear, that would be lovely." I flagged
down the waitress, thinking just how much he looked like Poppa
and just how kind he seemed. He ordered a coffee, black, and the
waitress disappeared.
There was silence for a time. "You live here in Brooklyn,
then?" he asked me.
I cleared my throat, "Yes, just a few blocks away. Its a
nice place here. Much less akward to live in than Attilan--there
everyone knows me and is nervous around me."
Magneto nodded and thanked the waitress as she brought his
coffee. He sniffed it, and then sipped it.
"Have your powers developed?"
I looked at him for a moment. He didn't know? I was confused.
"My... Powers?" I asked him.
"Your mutant powers, my dear."
"Oh." I paused. How was I to tell him that I was as
human as those he wanted to wipe out. "I... I'm...not a
mutant, uh..." I sipped my cappuccino casually.
"Oh, yes, of course. You've gone through the, what is it,
Terrigin Mists?" he sipped his coffee, his eyes stuck on me.
"Um, well, you see, I'm not going to be sent through the
Mists. Momma and Poppa don't want me to. They want me to have a
normal life. I'm, uh, well, pretty much... Human..." I
swallowed. He suddenly looked at me like I was a member of the
Friends of Humanity; like I was one of the humans who wanted him
dead.
"Human," he said with a sigh. "I see. Well, that's
just fine. How are you mother and aunt?" he asked as he
sipped his coffee.
He looked at me differently, suddenly. Like I wasn't quite what
he wanted, and as though he was suddenly only tolerating my
company, as though I was some chatter-box on the subway. I felt
like slapping him.
"They're just fine," I said. "My mother is in
Attilan visiting and Wanda is in California with Simon--they live
out there, now."
"Wanda is still with Simon, eh?" Magneto asked and
declared at the same time, not really expecting an answer from
me. I gave one to him anyway--there was contempt in his voice,
and I didn't like it.
"Yes," I snarled. "Is there *something* wrong with
that?"
A half smile appeared on his lips. I cocked my head to the side,
trying to understand what that look meant.
"Much more like your father than I had hoped, dear
Luna," he said and finished off his last gulp of coffee.
"Being quiet and timid is not particularly a high priority
for me," I said, trying to brush away the unpleasantness he
had brought to the café.
I am positive that if not for the misfortune of one young mutant,
we would have continued this manner of conversation for the next
twenty minutes before "The Master of Magnetism" decided
he had to get moving to his country.
Alice was the poor woman's name. She was a Japanese-American;
second generation she later told me when we were at my place. She
came tearing down the street from an alley with several members
of The Friends of Humanity in hot pursuit of her. She was
screaming "Help, help! Oh God, help me!" and wailing
loudly. No one really tried to do anything. This was New York, a
rather nice neighbor hood, but still New York--you were on your
own here and fended for yourself. Perhaps now it is was not like
that a decade ago, but it is now.
Magneto rose from his chair. His blue eyes were wild and he
seemed posessed. I stood up and yelled at him: "Don't hurt
them!"
With ease, his powers pulled the metal bats and chains from their
hands as he said, "Do not hurt them, Luna? Those who would
kill your father and aunt in an instant? Only because they will
not hurt you does not mean they don't need to be hurt." The
FOH members let out yelps and took off the way they came,
screaming "Dirty muties!" the whole way.
"What do you mean?" I cried at him as I followed him
toward the woman, who was now lying on the sidewalk. "You
think I do not want you to kill the ignorant because they are no
threat to me? I am the daughter of a mutant Avenger and an
Inhuman! I've had death threats, too, Magne--" I realized he
was only paying attention to the young woman.
She looked up at him with narrow, but wide, black eyes full of
tears. "M-M-M-Magneto?" she stumbled over the words. I
approached them slowly. He looked at the young girl more lovingly
than he looked at me.
I heard sirens in the distance. I sighed, not knowing why I was
going to give the man any help. "Come on, the police are
coming. We can go to my apartment and get you cleaned up," I
said. Magneto nodded and picked the girl up. I suddenly felt
myself floating. I was flying over the crowds and toward my
building. I pointed out the roof, and we landed there. Then I
showed the two to my apartment.
--
Magneto stood with his arms crossed commandingly over his chest,
puffed up like a penguin. The young woman, Alice, was sitting on
my sofa. I was sitting next to her, fixing up a nasty cut over
her eye and a few scratches on her arms. I showed her to the
bathroom and gave her some clean clothes.
While Alice showered, I made some coffee and Magneto still stood
about, trying to look important.
I fiddled with the coffeemaker longer than I had to, dawdling in
the kitchen, not wanting to go into the other part of the one
large room that was my kitchen and living room. I fixed a
sandwich with bologna and mustard for Alice, figuring she would
be hungry. I came into the living room, carrying three mugs of
coffee all at once by the handles.
I hadn't noticed, but he'd sat down on the sofa. After while his
old bones must have been aching. I could tell he was looking
around my small apartment, evaluating it, and me. I wasn't rich,
or poor, either. I was a secretary for a lawyer in Queens and was
paid fairly. He was must have thought me poor, though. I set the
mugs on the coffee table in the center of the room.
"Would you like coffee?" I asked him.
"No, I am fine, thank you," he said.
I shrugged and said, "Very well then." I sat down in an
armchair with a mug of coffee in my hands. "I'm sorry I'm
not what you want me to be," he looked at me, "but I
can't very well help being human, Magnus." Was it a mistake
to call him Magnus? I wondered. He looked at me for a moment, his
face stern and indecisive.
"I mean," I said, "that there is no telling what
effect the Mists will have on me. They augment genetic gifts, and
I don't think I have any... But I'm *happy* as I am."
"I understand," Magneto said quickly, and without
looking at me. I could tell he was thinking; probably a way to
make his poor, genetic reject of a grandchild into something
worthwhile to the world. Scientists in Genosha had made mutants
before he came to power. Was he was thinking of getting his hands
on one of them for me? I wondered. Perhaps a small part of me
wanted that.
I sipped my coffee and looked at his white hair for his eyes were
staring out the window.
"I hope you understand as well that I told you not to hurt
those FOH member simply because they didn't deserve it."
Magneto raised his head and began to open his mouth. "Do not
interrupt me in my house. Ahem, now, those poor bigots can't help
that they're undereducated. They don't know any better, and I
think it will take a long time to make them understand."
Magneto shook his head, "They won't see on they're
own--"
"And they won't when big 'all powerful' mutants beat up on
them," I declared.
Magneto threw his head back and laughed. "And what do you
suggest, Luna? College courses on getting along?"
I narrowed my eyes at him. "Peaceful, non-violent
rallies--"
"Is that what your father has raised you to believe?"
Magneto retorted.
"*I* alone make my political decisions, Magneto. My father
and mother raised me to have my own. I'm not some pawn of my
father as you wish him to be to you!" I slapped my hand over
my mouth, realizeing I'd made a mistake.
"I see, that is how you think of me, eh? A
manipulator?"
I realized something. I was taking all that he was giving out to
me as though I deserved it. Why did I have to take it? He was a
guest in my house! I was harboring him, somehting that could get
me years in jail. Taking his additude was not on my priority
list.
"Yes. You want my father for a pawn, and Wanda, too. And
you'd have liked to have me was well, but I'm just a human... so
now I'm just going to be family you won't talk about." I was
roused, sitting on the edge of my chair.
At this point, I realized that Alice was standing at the end of
the of the hallway. She looked confused at our arguing.
Magneto cleared his throat and stood up. "Alice, my dear, I
have a proposition for you." The woman nodded. I wondered
what Magneto had up his sleeve, he was acting as though the past
few exchanges between the two of us had not occured.
"You are welcome to come back with me to Genosha. You'll be
taken care of, and won't be chased on the streets by hoodlums
howling for your blood. What do you say?" Magneto smiled
like a charismatic salesman pitching a car or something.
I gulped at exactly the same time Alice did. I could tell she
wasn't sure of what she wanted, but the offer of peace was too
much for her to pass up. Peace, acceptance... It was something I
wanted to, but not because I was a mutant like her and Magneto
offered her asylum, because Magneto was family, and I wanted to
have his caring and love.
"Yes, Magneto, sir, I would be very honored to come to
Genosha with you," she said weakly, her dark eyes looking up
at him like a puppy-dog in a pet store. She pushed a lock of
damp, dark hair behind her ear.
"Wonderful. Well then, let us go," he said, motioning
for the door.
Alice nodded and began to walk toward the door. "T-thank
you, Ms. Maximoff, for your kindness."
"Its nothing, Alice, really," I said, standing up.
Magneto went to the door and opened it, leading Alice out. He
turned, looked at me for a moment. Those icy blue eyes I'd seen a
thousand times in my father were looking at me the way my
father's never did. It was a look of superiorty because I was a
human, and with anger more intense than Poppa's ever had because
I'd dared to tell him what I thought outright. With his eyes
glaring, he then left, shutting the door behind him.
He didn't even say good-bye. I am his grandchild, his only one,
and he didn't even bother to say goodbye or thank me for helping
one of his "people."
I crawled out onto the rusty fire escape and cried because I knew
him. Poppa told me so. And I should have listened.
--
Finis
