-2 Months

"It's pretty hot out there right now," Proxy Blue announced, looking slightly gleeful. "Bad news for the mutants' teams, though - it looks like the humans win. But what will happen next? A quick look through the scorecard shows the AV's out of the game with an unexpected collapse just ten days ago. Mr. Big withdrew, let a little leak drip, and instant annihilation by our good troops who knew just when and where to be. Add to that the effective decapitation of the Underground Railway and the Freedom Fighters, bolstered by a Cyberteam that's frankly been quite shaky and intermittent the last couple of months, and the mutants are in disarray.

"And talking AV's, it seems they have, or rather had, a prison south of the Gulf somewhere. I'm told that there's no threat from that area, though, as a lynch mob… uh, I mean, a group of concerned citizens with Uzi's shot everyone in the place. How considerate of them.

"Hunting down mutants and shipping them out of sight, out of mind, is common practice these days, and there's been huge support for having them do the work to repair the damage they caused. But some people have taken to using the odd detainee for personal use. Remember those SGFlex's? They're commonly used in the work place now, but you can buy the deluxe version to have your very own pet mutant. If you want to see proof, then catch CNN's lunchtime bulletin when Senator Langley will be purchasing the very first license to own a controlled mutant. A molecular to repair her mutant-ravaged gardens. Apparently.

"Pretty forward at going backwards aren't we? Scandals, gossip and behind the scenes clangers, give them all to me, baby!"

*****

Emma stared out of the barred window, trying to get a glimpse of sky above the gray walls that surrounded her limited view as she cradled her broken arm with bleeding fingers. She'd get no medical treatment as she was scheduled to be murdered today. They'd told her that. The way all psionics were gotten rid of.

With her special mental training she'd been able to resist the drugs, or at least enough that they didn't believe a word she'd told them. But she had a low pain threshold, and though she'd tried, she'd really tried, in the end, she'd told them anything and everything, begging them to stop. Her one pathetic attempt at saving herself from her own conscience had been mixing lies in, so that maybe, just maybe, she'd told sufficient lies that the truth she'd spilled would be hidden long enough for her people to realize and get themselves safe.

She hadn't seen Jeff and Julie since Adam had betrayed them all - and she had no doubt that he had. He'd been there when they'd thought she was unconscious. Knowing that, and knowing that she wouldn't be alive much longer, had given her strange feeling of serenity. The pain of her injuries was distant, and emotions were no longer a part of her.

So she didn't resist when they opened her door and pulled her down the hallway. She expected them to take her to the sickbay, the room where people were either got fixed up or killed. She was mildly surprised when they took her back to the interview room she'd gotten to know intimately. One last interrogation, then.

But no, she was shoved down into the hard wooden seat opposite a man she recognized from the news.

"They tell me you're a telempath," Senator Morrisen said as he lit a cigar.

Emma simply stared at him blankly. She was so used to the interrogations that it was habit to not answer questions for as long as possible.

"Ms de Lauro." Morrisen leaned forward. "This is not an interrogation. I simply wish to ascertain if you are suitable for a small project I have running. One where you would join a small group of other psionics and work for me. I can't promise that you won't end up back here if you don't fit in, but either way, it would be a, ah, stay of execution. I need a telempath, as the one I had was not suitable at all."

Emma blinked slowly. Morrisen was anti-mutant, therefore anything he was doing was bound to be detrimental to mutants, in which case she'd rather stay here and visit the sickbay. But, if she lived to fight another day, she could maybe find a way to fight back.

"Yes," she said eventually, the serenity settling heavy over her like an invisible shroud. "I am."

*****

Brennan limped out of the meat wagon along with three others, all of whom were also elementals, and resisted the urged to squint and rub at his swollen face - not that the chains would let him move his hands by much. He kept trying to fight and kept being beaten down, but he was determined to keep fighting until the end.

They'd interrogated him, trying to get him to betray the Underground Railway, and he had no doubt that he'd given away far more than he ever wanted to know. The beatings and physical torture he could resist, but there was no getting round the drugs. The irony was, if he'd got caught it was Kathy who was supposed to have changed things so that any information that was forced out of him would be useless. And vice versa. There were two others in that loop too. Trouble was, with Kathy on the take, that whole damage limitation plan fell completely apart. The thought that he might've sent people to their deaths made him sick to the core.

Right now though, he was a little puzzled as to why they were at a power station. This was the Florida magnox plant, where one of the AV's had turned the entire core into granite. It was a huge station built into the hills away from the tourists.

They were led through corridors and up stairs until they came out onto a catwalk over a small cavern that held what looked like pods standing on their ends. Rows and rows of them. Hundreds of them. Wires and tubes running uniformly from them all while each pod contained a body. As they walked along and down more stairs, getting closer, Brennan could see that the bodies were writhing and emitting constant energy. Some pods looked like they were on fire inside, others had blue lightning running round, while still others had white webs or red laser effects inside.

And Brennan's personal demons leapt to the fore. He would die before letting them put him in one of those things. He wasn't scared of the pods themselves, but he was terrified of what those pods were doing.

He lashed out, yanking his chains violently, feeling them give slightly, grateful that they hadn't been made for moleculars, but the guards couldn't miss his angry movements. Brennan did his absolute best given the circumstances, even managed to make contact with a satisfying crunch of a guard's nose, but it was inevitable that a prolonged jolt from a taser would eventually shock him into submission.

Then he was locked down in a pod with no hope of escape. They cut his clothes away and left him there for a long while until the men in white coats arrived. He cursed them every which way while they hooked him up to tubes and wires, fiddled with his SGFlex, and ignored his tirade of threats and curses. They shut the pod and locked it before a humming told him it was activated. And an instant later, he was screaming as he was sucked dry from the inside out, his powers raging out of control within his tiny prison.

*****

Jesse sat on the padded windowsill of the gym housed in Senator Langley's small country mansion, staring out at the pristine gardens and blue sky.

He didn't remember the destruction and war he'd come from, didn't give his origins any thought at all. He had everything he could ask for here, a suite of opulent rooms all his own, servants to obey his every whim, and expensive clothes. He knew he'd been sick for a while, but Victoria had given him the best care, even so far as a personal instructor to help him get into shape.

He remembered one time, while he'd been sick, he'd woken up naked in bed with just a sheet covering him. Victoria had been there then with a cool flannel, but he hadn't recognized her and scuttled over to the far side of the bed, telling her to leave him alone, rambling madly. She'd looked surprised and laughed.

"You thought I wanted you as a sex slave? Heaven forbid, boy, your imagination is far too vivid. On the other hand, you really shouldn't give me ideas."

For some reason, that comment bothered him although he had no idea why. He didn't understand the pitying looks the staff all gave him, didn't understand why they wouldn't talk with him over and above their duties. But Victoria always there, always wanted him to keep her company. Sometimes she would look a little disappointed. Usually after she'd asked his opinion on something. He didn't have any opinions. On anything. Didn't have many thoughts to call his own.

Sometimes, like now, there was a niggling feeling that something was wrong. But then Victoria would be there, or he'd seek her out, or if she were gone then Princess would keep him company. And the wrong feeling would go away.

Today she'd told him to wear the clothes he had on now. Told him that they were going out. This was the first time he'd be leaving the house since he'd been sick. He'd almost been getting jealous of Princess having her walks. He was a little nervous about going into town, because Victoria had told him that there were many people who weren't as fortunate as him, that might resent his nice clothes and things, that he should keep close to her, that he should smile and accept the certificate some pompous old bird was going to give them. That, when asked, he should show them his special talent.

Jesse had nodded obediently and was just now waiting for Victoria to tell him they were ready to go.

*****

Shalimar was in a deep shock. She remembered gunfire outside, people shouting. They could see the guards falling away from the upper grilles, and for a few cruel moments the prisoners thought rescue had arrived. They called out to let their rescuers know they were there.

But all that happened was that guns pushed through the grilles and opened fire. Shooting fish in a barrel.

There was no one within reach to fight, so all they could do was take shelter behind those already dead. Someone outside found the doors, which were then opened, and those that were still living were cut down as they tried to push through.

Vernon and Shalimar both wanted to fight even though it was impossibility, so it was Ollie that shoved them both in the corner. And no one asked her opinion on the matter when Vernon suddenly cold-cocked her.

Stunned, she'd been unable to protest when she felt the bullets riddle Ollie's bulk, slam into Vernon, who looked at her and hissed, 'You will survive this, little girl. For us!' before blood red and gray exploded, ending his life. She'd screamed when bullets ploughed into her own flesh, but it was lost among the cacophony of shrieks and wails and whining bullets.

When the screaming and gunfire had stopped, she remembered people making their way partly into the room, opening fire here and there where perhaps they thought they'd seen movement. She'd kept still as possible under the bodies of her friends, biting her own knuckles to keep from so much as breathing too hard.

When they'd gone, she continued to lie still, frightened and shocked, until blood congealed in her hair, stuck to her face and hands, Until her own loss of blood made her faint and rampant infection gave her fever. Until the corpses around her started the process of rotting.

She thought she ought to move some day, but couldn't quite put thoughts into action. Then, much later, more people came. They swore a lot, and started moving the bodies, one by one. She would have fought them, would have tried to run, but she was too shocked and too sick.

So when a man lifted Ollie off of her, she only hoped he'd put her out of her misery as quickly as possible.

*****