Chapter Six: The Truth
Of all the places I might have woken up, a comfortable bed with sheets hadn't been high on my list of probabilities. Where on Earth was I? I opened my eyes to find out, then realised I didn't have my sun-glasses on. Then I realised I couldn't see anything anyway. Something was over my eyes. I raised my left hand to remove the obstruction, but I felt somebody take hold of my hand and a gentle, soothing female voice said, "Relax. You need to wear the eye-patches for a little longer. Don't worry, you're among friends."
I didn't recognise her voice.
"Who are you?" I asked. "Where am I?"
"My name is Dr Jean Grey. You're in New York."
"New York? America?! How did I – when did I – ?"
"Sshh…just relax. You need some more rest. Don't worry, we'll explain everything later, when you've recovered."
A thought struck me, "My friends? Are they all right?"
"They're fine. Your friend Jacqueline has some nasty burns, but they're superficial. She's healing as we speak. Chris is pretty badly beat up, but nothing that a little rest won't cure. As for Chloe, she's fine. Just tired. And worried about you."
"Can I see her?"
"In a little while, when your eyes recover."
"What's wrong with my eyes? Why do I have these patches over them?"
The doctor hesitated, then said, "While you were asleep, I took the liberty of performing a few scans and tests. I discovered that the mutation that has gifted you your extraordinary eyesight, has also weakened both your retina and your optic nerves to the point that – well, to be blunt, any prolonged exposure to light would have caused irreparable damage and made you go blind."
"Blind?"
"Yes. I've administered some special eye-drops that should help to strengthen your ocular system. Light will still hurt you, but it won't cause any lasting damage, and it won't be anywhere near as painful as it was before. You need to keep those patches on until the eye-drops have finished their work."
I couldn't see anything through the thick material of the eye-patches, and I was intrigued to find out whether what she was saying was correct. Ever since I was eight years old, I'd had to keep my eyes permanently shaded from light to avoid the pain it would cause. Was that time at an end?
Then something else occurred to me, "Those guys – Chameleon and Inferno – they told me I was a prototype for some sort of…experimental treatment. Was that true? Please tell me it wasn't true."
"I can't tell you anything about that right now. Just get some rest. When you're recovered, you can talk to the Professor about it. He'll answer your questions."
Tiredness overtook me again, and I rested my head back on the pillow. Things were moving so fast now, I had no idea what was going on. What was I doing in America? Who were these people? Had Inferno and his brother been telling the truth? No, they had to have been lying. But why would they lie about it? What would that accomplish? I didn't know, and I was too tired to want to think about it any more. I drifted off to sleep again.
When I next awoke, the eye-patches were gone, and I tentatively opened my eyes. As the light from the room flooded into my retina, I winced slightly. It still hurt. The pain was still there, but it was bearable. More of a dull ache, like a headache, than the agonising burning sensation I'd experienced before. It seemed as if the doctor had been right. I looked around the room: an infirmary of some kind. There was nobody else in the room with me. I swung my legs over the side of the bed, and stood up. My legs were still a little tired and stiff, and I swayed slightly while finding my balance. I looked around for my sun-glasses. There they were, sitting on the small table beside the bed. I picked them up and was about to slip them over my eyes, when indecision struck. Did I really want to put them on? My eyes still hurt, but I could stand it. In time, I could probably train myself to ignore it. I decided that, for once, I would forget the sun-glasses. I wanted to see the world as it was.
I heard a sound from the doorway and turned to see a man in a wheelchair, smiling at me as he entered the room. He was entirely bald, and, although he was clearly an old man, his face and his eyes possessed a youthful energy that made him appear much younger than he really was.
"How are you feeling?" he said.
His voice sounded strangely familiar, as if I'd heard it before, a long time ago. But I'd never met this man before today.
"OK…I think," I said. "Who are you? Where am I?"
"My name is Professor Charles Xavier. You're in my school for mutants, in Westchester, New York."
"There's a school for mutants?"
"Yes. Neil, I'm afraid I have some rather bad news for you."
I frowned, "What?"
"I'd rather wait until we are all together before I discuss the matter further," the man said. "Now, I realise you must be feeling a bit confused and uncertain, and you probably don't trust us yet."
"Well, your doctor did help with my eyes. But I don't know who to trust any more. Everything's being turned upside down and back to front and I don't know what's happening. All that I can be sure of are my three friends. Where are they?"
"Your friends are upstairs, with the other teenagers in the school. They're all fine, but they're worried about you. Can I suggest you go up to reassure them?"
"How do I find them?"
"Follow me."
He turned and his wheelchair headed for the door. I followed him out into the corridor, and looked around.
"This doesn't look much like a school," I said, confused. "It looks more like a secret base, or something."
Xavier smiled, "Yes, that's exactly what it is. The schoolrooms are located on the upper levels. The lower levels house the headquarters of my organisation known as the X-Men."
"The X-Men?"
"Yes. We're all mutants here, Neil. While some mutants believe that we cannot co-exist with humans, it is my goal to unite mutantkind and humanity in peace and fellowship. But I won't bore you with details just now. First things first."
He led me to an elevator, which ascended swiftly and smoothly to the upper levels.
"Ah, this looks more like a school," I said, as we stepped out into a wooden-panelled hallway.
"Yes, this is the main body of the school building," said Xavier. "Now, please excuse me. I must talk with Dr Grey and some of my other associates. Your friends are in the dining room, up those stairs to the left."
"OK. Thanks."
I headed for the staircase, and turned to see him wheeling his way round the corner, then disappearing from sight. Climbing the stairs, I heard the sound of voices from a doorway on the right, and walked through into the dining room. The room was occupied by a group of teenagers, about two dozen, sitting at tables or on the floor, eating, talking, laughing. A few people looked round as I entered, Chloe among them.
"Neil!" she exclaimed, getting out of her seat and running over to greet me.
"Hey, Chloe."
"I was worried about you! The doctor said I couldn't see you until you had recovered! What was the matter with you?"
"Oh…nothing, really."
Then she gave me a strange look, "Hey – you haven't got your shades on."
"Yeah. I don't need them so much now. The doctor fixed my eyes, well, sort of."
By this time Chris and Jacqueline had got up and walked over to greet me.
"Looks like I can't call you Shades any more," Chris grinned, putting a hand on my shoulder. "I overheard the doctor saying she was going to treat your eyes. It's good to see you on your feet again."
"Welcome back," said Jacqueline.
I smiled. Chloe took my hand and led me to the table where she had been sitting. I was introduced to several people, but my mind was in such a turmoil that I forgot their names instantly. They were all mutants, some of them more visibly obvious than others, and they all greeted me with a warmth and friendliness that I hadn't known for years. There was no bigotry or discrimination here. Chloe was talking to a girl about the same age as Jacqueline, with a white streak in her hair, and was obviously trying to include me in the conversation, but I wasn't in the mood to talk. I smiled and nodded, and laughed at appropriate points, but I couldn't make myself concentrate on what they were talking about. I wanted to find about my past. Was I part of an experiment, as Inferno had said? I needed to find out. The Professor guy had promised to talk to me later about something. I wondered if this was the bad news he had mentioned.
Food was put in front of me, and I ate it without thinking or tasting it. At one of the other tables, Chris was flashing his trademark cocky grin and clearly winding up an increasingly annoyed-looking boy who was playing absent-mindedly with a cigarette lighter, flicking it on and off alternately. Jacqueline stood by the window, not talking to anybody, gazing out at the early evening sun. She looked distant and uncomfortable, and I realised I wasn't the only one with a troubled past. I couldn't even begin to imagine what Jacqueline must have gone through as a seven-year-old: being told her parents no longer loved her, and being sent to live with an adoptive family. Since our escape and during our journey to the facility, she'd shown one or two very small glimpses of what must be going on inside her head, but most of the time she kept it hidden behind her emotionless exterior. Perhaps I wasn't the only one who needed help from the Professor and his friends.
Just as I was thinking about the Professor, a man entered the dining room. I recognised him from somewhere, but I couldn't remember where. Then it came to me. The man with the red visor, the man I'd seen in the facility after the battle with Chameleon and Inferno, just before I'd blacked out. He was now wearing a pair of red sun-glasses instead, and my hand instinctively travelled to my face where my own sun-glasses normally were, but of course, I wasn't wearing them any more.
"Hey, Cyclops," one or two voices greeted the man as he walked over towards me.
Cyclops? That was an odd name. He smiled in return to the greetings and said, "Neil? The Professor would like to see you and your friends."
Chloe and I stood up, and waited until Jacqueline and Chris joined us. Then we followed the man out of the room and down the stairs, turning the corner I had seen the Professor taking earlier.
"Are you the guy I saw in that secret facility?" I asked eventually.
Cyclops nodded, "Yes. The Professor sent us to bring you back here."
"How did he know we were there?" Chloe asked.
"The Professor's a telepath. He can sense mutants with his thoughts. He saw you were in danger."
"Yeah, well, thanks," Chris said. "For getting us out of there alive, I mean."
"No problem."
"Did you kill those guys? Inferno and Chameleon?"
"No. They got away," said Cyclops. "Our priority was getting you to safety."
He stopped in front of a door on the right and pushed it open. Inside, seated round a table, were three people: Professor Xavier; a brown-haired woman; and a woman with white hair and dark skin.
"Ah, you're here," said Xavier. "Thank you, Scott. Please, sit down, all of you."
Chris regarded the four adults warily, and took the seat nearest the door. I sat down opposite Cyclops, and Chloe took the seat beside me. Jacqueline sat next to Chris.
Xavier continued, "Now, you all know who I am, but for those of you who haven't met – Chris Garcia, Chloe Scott, Jacqueline Cartier and Neil Rosiçky, meet Scott Summers, Ororo Munroe and Dr Jean Grey."
Chloe smiled. Chris gave a half-hearted sort of wave. Jacqueline made no response whatsoever and I merely regarded the three people I had just been introduced to. So the dark-haired woman was Dr Grey – it was good to be able to put a face to a person I only knew by her voice.
"First of all," said Xavier. "Neil, a lot of what I am going to talk about involves you personally. If you'd rather we discuss it alone, just say."
"No, I don't mind," I said. "I have no secrets from my friends."
"All right, then I'll begin. There is no easy way to break this to you, so I'm just going to come right out and say it. What Chameleon and Inferno told you, about you being part of this genetic experiment – I'm afraid it's true."
My heart sank. I couldn't believe it. I wouldn't believe it.
"How do you know?" I heard myself asking.
"That will require a bit of explaining," he answered. "It all started twenty years ago, when I was working as a researcher at Oxford University. I met a young man who was doing incredibly advanced work on mutant genetics. Not a mutant himself, he was convinced that the process which grants mutations to unborn babies could be replicated on ordinary humans. He planned an experiment and applied to the university for funding. They refused, on humanitarian grounds. The reason being that his experiment could only be conducted on new-born children, and the university quite rightly refused to allow him to do so."
"So what happened?" I asked.
"He left the university to look for an alternative source of funding, and obviously found it, but I don't know where from. It probably isn't important. Anyway, he was still faced with the problem that his procedure could only be tested on a new-born baby, and naturally there was nobody willing to donate their child. He was ready to give up, when he discovered his wife was pregnant."
"He used his own child?!" Cyclops exclaimed.
"Yes. His wife died in childbirth, leaving him as the sole guardian of the baby. He had put his entire life into his research; his family were now only of secondary importance to him. It was sixteen years ago when he conducted the experiment on his new-born child."
Ororo winced. Xavier looked down at the table and sighed, "The man's name was Davor Rosiçky."
My heart plummeted like a stone.
"That's not possible," I heard myself saying. "My father died when I was a baby."
Xavier shook his head, "When your father saw that his experiment did not give the results he was hoping for, he tried to kill you. I managed to stop him, and sent you to live with your maternal grandparents. To protect you from your past, I asked them to tell you he was dead."
"I thought I recognised your voice from somewhere," I said. "I must have heard it back then, when you found me."
Then I lowered my head and sighed, "Please, tell me this isn't true. Please tell me I'm dreaming and I'm going to wake up in a minute."
"I'm sorry," said Xavier. "I told you it wasn't going to be easy for you to hear, but you have to know."
"So Rosiçky continued with his experimentation?" asked Dr Grey.
"Yes. He learned enough from his first experiment to upgrade the procedure, so that it would work on slightly older children. He took four new subjects – why he chose those particular ones, and how he got hold of them, I don't know – and performed the procedure on them."
"Chameleon and Inferno?" Jacqueline guessed. "Who are the other two?"
"I'm not sure," Xavier sighed. "It was thirteen years since I last saw them. The children were all aged between two and four, so they'll be roughly your age by now. Anyway, I was again able to intervene, and I took the children from his custody, and sent them back to live with their families. I thought they'd be safe."
"They weren't?" asked Ororo.
Xavier sighed once more, "Unfortunately, the procedure did more than just introduce mutant powers into their bodies. It warped their minds, altered their personalities. It changed four innocent children into the cold-blooded killers that they are today. I didn't realise this until it was too late. Rosiçky is now a very powerful and influential man and he has connections with several politicians in the Scottish government."
I saw what was coming, "The Mutant Registration Act was his idea?"
"Yes. He was determined to track down his four subjects, but he had no idea where to look. He decided to enforce mutant registration so that he could find out where they lived, and summon them to him. What he didn't count on was finding out that his own son was still alive. I'd fooled him into thinking he had succeeded in killing you."
"So that's why we were grabbed from school."
"That's right. I've been keeping an eye on his activities ever since the Act was pushed through. The four subjects have joined up with him, and he tried to grab you too, to make sure you were finished off this time. When I saw you approaching his facility in the Highlands – that was both incredibly brave and incredibly foolish, by the way – I sent Scott and Ororo to get you away from him."
"We didn't know what we were walking in on," I admitted. "Until I ran into Inferno and Chameleon, I didn't know any of this. I thought I was just an ordinary person. Well, an ordinary mutant."
"I see," said Xavier. "To finish my story: seven years ago, Davor Rosiçky – your father – was at last able to perfect his procedure to work on adult humans. He used it on himself."
"He's a mutant now?"
"Yes, and a very powerful one. I don't know what his plans are exactly, but he and the four others have to be stopped."
"Easier said than done," Chris put in. "I've never met anyone who could fight like Chameleon."
"What do you intend to do about it?" Jacqueline asked, looking at the Professor.
"I honestly don't know right now," the old man sighed. "Unfortunately, there are other problems which require my attention. There are other dangerous people, both mutants and humans, in the world. Any number of things could happen, and I'm waiting for Rosiçky to make the first move before I try to move in on him again."
"Is he still in that facility?" asked Chris.
"No, he abandoned that as soon as we left," said Cyclops. "We've been trying to track him. We think he's headed here, to America."
"When Logan returns from Alkali lake, I'll ask him to have a look into it," said Xavier. "Jean, when did he say he'd be back?"
"Probably some time next week," she said.
"Very well," Xavier said. "In the meantime, you four are welcome to stay here and live with the other teenagers. Neil, I promise you, we will get to the bottom of this, but it may take some time."
Later that night we were invited to join the other teens in the games room. This was a comfortable, spacious room with a wide-screen TV, several units for games such as table tennis, and about ten computer games terminals. I could probably have spent the evening happily here, in the company of my friends, if it hadn't been for the pressing weight upon my mind. The Professor had confirmed my fears that what the twins had told me was true, and I was still struggling to come to terms with the enormity of it all. My father – the father I'd never known – had become so obsessed with his work that he had tried to kill me. I had been born an ordinary human, and my father's genetic experimentation had changed me into something I wasn't meant to be, given me gifts and abilities that I was never meant to have. What did it all mean? I couldn't make any sense of it. I needed to be alone. I couldn't think straight while I was surrounded by the noise and activities of so many others. Slipping through the crowd, I made my way to the door undetected, and left.
It took me a couple of minutes to find a door that led outside the building, and I walked out into one of the gardens of Xavier's estate. The sun had set and darkness was falling. I wondered what time it was back home. I couldn't even remember if New York was on the east or west coast of America. Finding a wooden bench beside a row of shrubs, I sat down and was glad of the darkness. It meant the pain in my eyes was lessened. I leaned back on the wooden seat and thought hard about myself. I knew I was nothing more than an experimental guinea pig, used as such by my own father. What made a man become so overpowered by a dream that he would risk sacrificing his own family?
Overcome with sadness, I closed my eyes and wanted to cry. I knew the tears would never come. My mutated eyes could no longer cry tears. One of the most basic human emotional reactions, and I was incapable of it. Maybe it would have been better if Inferno or Chameleon had killed me. Then I wouldn't be sitting here, wishing I wasn't what I had been made into.
"Neil?"
I was so deep in my depression that I hadn't heard her approach. Chloe sat down on the bench beside me and said, "Are you all right?"
I shrugged. There was nothing to say. Chloe moved closer to me and rested her head on my shoulder. She didn't try to talk to me. I felt glad of her even if she wasn't saying anything; just her presence made me feel better.
"It's a beautiful night," she said, trying to start a conversation. "Look, the stars are out."
I sighed and stared at the ground, "Chloe, what are you doing out here? You should be inside with the others, enjoying yourself. Why are you wasting your time with me?"
"Wasting my time?"
"I'm nothing. I'm not human any more and I was never meant to be a mutant. I'm halfway in between, just a freak. I've got nothing to live for. I'm not worth your time."
"Don't say that."
"It's true. You heard what the Professor said, what Inferno said. I was an unsuccessful prototype. I'm nothing but a failed version of Chameleon."
Chloe was angry now, "You are not! You are so much more than that slimy little creep! You're a good, kind person, which is more than he'll ever be!"
"He's what I was meant to become. He's me without the mistakes thrown in."
"No, he isn't. You've got one thing that he hasn't got, that he'll never have."
"What's that?"
"Me."
She put her hand on my cheek, turned my head gently towards her, and planted a little kiss on my lips. Shock, combined with intense joy, began a small rebellion against the depression that was engulfing my heart. Chloe had her arms around my neck and pulled me close to kiss me again. The rebellion was spreading, picking up support as it went. By the time I had my arms round Chloe, and we were drawing together for our third kiss, the rebellion had won. My mind and heart were overwhelmed with passion, and I forgot that I was supposed to be miserable and deprecating myself. The third kiss lasted far longer than the first two, and when we at last drew apart, I gazed into Chloe's chestnut brown eyes and gave her a little smile, "I guess I was wrong. I do have something to live for."
She smiled in return and we came together for our fourth kiss.
