TWO
Logan wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, and it came away glistening with a film of sweat. He looked up and frowned at Bobby. "Dont make me hurt ya, boy," growled. Bobby swallowed and shifted from foot to foot, unsure of what to do next. Sweat covered his face, too, and dripped from his fringe into his eyes. He weighed up his options: If he ran, Logan would catch him. If he played possum, Logan would be onto him in an instant. And he dismissed the idea of charging him head on as foolish to the point of suicidal. Logan was moving closer to him, slowly and with purpose. Bobby shifted so that Logan was always facing him directly, but soon realised that Logan had manouvered so that the sun shone directly into his eyes. Bobby sheilded his eyes with his palm outsretched, and realised that Logan had moved directly behind him in the meantime. He felt cool menace as Logan reached out and grabbed his shoulder, and knew that it would be all over if he didnt do something....
The air was ripped with a distinct cracking noise, and a fine mist rose from the ground around Logans feet. Logan looked down to see a sheet of ice spreading underneath him, just seconds before he slipped onto his back with the sound that wet meat would make if it hit a patch of ice. Bobby tore away from him and leapt into the air to slam dunk the basketball through the hoop. The small group of students watching from the sidelines cheered their approval, and Bobby took a deep bow in their direction. "And they said it couldnt be done!"
"That," Logan said, from the other end of the court. "Was cheating."
The audience booed and hissed. Logan regarded them all with a stern frown. Bobby grinned at him. He took his shirt off and wiped his face with it. "Hey, I just used my powers to facilitate attaining my goals, old man."
Logan grimaced. "Someone's been listening to Cyclops," He teased. "And beside, how would you feel if I popped my claws and sliced that hoop of its pole?" Logan held up his clenched fist and three long, metal claws popped from the back of his hand.
"I'd say you were a sore loser," Bobby replied, "Or a bad winner. Whichever way you look at it." He shrugged, and strolled away from the court, to the appreciative whoops of the already dwindling audience. Logan smiled at the boy's bravado, but he knew Bobby was scared when he popped his claws. He brought his hand up and his claws retracted back under his skin.
He looked up at an empty basketball court.
"You're good with them."
Cyclops stood just beyond the gate, looking through the wire fence at him. Logan walked towards him slowly, and retrieved the towel that hung over the top of the gate. He wiped his face and rubbed it over his chest and flat belly, then hung it around his neck. "Yeah, well, I'm good at somethin' round here."
"They respect you. That will come in handy when it comes to battle training."
Xavier had enlisted Logan's help to train the students in hand to hand combat, stealth manouvering and various defensive and offensive tactics. He was due to take a group of twenty students at the end of the semester, after Cyclops' course on using mutant powers effectively. Unlike Cyclops, Logan did not need to prove himself worthy of admiration-he figured you either had respect and admiration or you didnt. There's no use fighting for something that wasnt even there to begin with. But Xavier was impressed that Logan could reach even the most difficult students after one meeting; Logan was the only person Chamber spoke to with anything appraoching respect.
Logan began the walk back to the mansion with Cyclops behind him. "Jean thinks the men who attacked your boy were attached to The Friends of Humanity," Cyclops said.
Logan nodded. "Thought they looked the type."
"If thats the case, we need to tighten security around the mansion. They've known about the school for some time, and now they have reason enough to come knocking on our doors."
"They should get outta the business if they get upset over every little hanger-on stupid enough to walk in front of a bus."
"I'm serious. Two men are dead. One is missing, gone underground for all we know, and right now we're very vunerable. They might see an opportunity, Logan."
Logan stopped and looked over his shoulder at Cyclops. "We can handle it."
They began walking again. Cyclops was beside Logan now, and his face was shadowing his concerns without really reflecting much. Logan's calm response was not appropriate, and he didnt feel that a flippant reaction was called for, and he said so.
Logan kept walked, without so much as a hitch in his stride. "I've not encountered an enemy stupid enough to take their attack right into unfamiliar territory," He said, squinting into the sun for a second. "They dont know whats waiting for them inside the grounds, and we have a distinct advantage. The rest writes itself."
Detective Morgan waited in a tastefully appointed office, his sunglasses dangling from his hand from between his knees. The carpet was plush red, the desk polished oak; it screamed of taxpayer-funded extravangance. On the walls hung framed black and white prints of groups of men with sombre expressions and drab suits. Most looked as if they were taken in the 1950's.
He hooked one ankle sround the other and sighed as he settled into his comfortable chair. The secretary outside had told him his wait would last no longer than ten minutes, and that was twenty minutes ago. He tucked his glasses into his jacket pocket and rubbed his palms flat on is thighs. It was like waiting in the principals office.
A door opened and Morgan stood as Graydon Creed, the leader of the Friends of Humanity, entered the room. Creed was a tall, solid man of about 30, whose eyes were intense, and his face looked as though it had been carved from granite. His brown hair was cropped military short. Creed had the charisma of a leader and the looks of a football star. It was an unbeatable combination, and people flocked to him in droves.
Morgan accepted Creed's hand and shook it before sitting back down. Creed walked around his desk. "My secreatry tells me you've been waiting for some time," He said with a deep, resonant voice as he sat. "My apologies. I'm afraid you give up any chance of having free time when you decide to enter public life."
"I appreciate you taking the time to see me," Morgan said, with more warmth than he felt. "I wouldnt be here if it wasnt important."
Creed smiled with a mouthful of perfectly white teeth. "Of course. And I realise you are a busy man, too. So lets cut to the chase, as it were. What can I help you with?"
Morgan shifted in his seat and produced his notepad, although he'd already rehearsed his speil on the way over. The notepad just made it look official. He glanced up and asked, "Does the name John Klyne mean anything to you?"
Creed frowned and leaned foward. He rubbed his chin for a few seconds, then shook his head, slowly. "Cant say it does, detective."
Morgan cleared his throat, then continued. "What about James Travis?"
Again the Creed head shake, full of polite concern. "No. I meet so many people every day, and its hard to recall all of them."
Morgan nodded, but kept his face blank. "Both men died last night, appparently by their own hands. They were both identified as members of the Friends of Humanity, and Their families have told police that they visited your party headquarters in Westchester, and left after a meeting that you held."
Something flashed in Creed's eyes, and his smile changed from a congenial one to a sad, strained one. "Oh, my. That's terrible. And you are investigating their deaths?"
"Thats right."
"But I thought you said they took their own lives?"
"Yes sir, thats right."
"But why is a homicide detective investigating their deaths?"
Morgan flipped through the pages of his notepad for effect. "First of all, can you confirm their attendance at your meeting?"
Creed shrugged. "We have so many members, its hard to keep track of....I dont know, but maybe we can have a look at our security tapes, see who showed up, ask around. Its such a terrible tragedy when people take their own lives...."
"Would you also know of a Jeremiah Blacksmith, Mr. Creed?"
Creed's eyes flashed again, and he nodded. "I do know of Jeremiah. Good boy, clean christian boy. He heads up our Young Friends of Humanity chapter." Creed's jaw bulged. "Is he... Did he..."
Morgan held up a hand. "At present time, we do not know where Jeremiah is. We were wondering if he turned up at your compound?"
Creed shook his head. "No, he hasnt. In fact, we were getting worried. He didnt show up for our weekly youth issues meeting, and it did concern me. He's usually such a responsible boy."
"He may have witnessed what happened to the other boys. Its important that we speak with him. Do you have a number, an address, something, that we could contact his parents with?"
"I can certainly try."
***
Rain pelted down on his face, and he had the momentary feeling of weightlessness as strong, muscular arms scooped him up. His cheek was pressed up against a wet shirt and he could hear ragged breathing rolling in and out like the tide. He could smell wet skin and the slight sourness of sweat. He felt safe and warm, and he felt like he could sleep forever....But there was something he was forgetting.
Of course. Where were his manners?
His voice came out soft and small, and sounded like it was far away. "Thank you."
A voice that sounded like a contained growl responded: "Don't mention it."
Sebastien opened his eyes to harsh flourescent light, and brought his hand up to his face to block it out. He groaned and licked his lips, which tasted slightly of copper. His head pounded and felt like throwing up.
"You're awake."
Sebastien lowered his hand and blinked rapidly at the red headed woman leaning toward him. She smiled and patted his hand before checking his temperature and checking his chart. "Are...Are you a doctor? Am I in a hospital?" He asked, and looked around the stark, sterile room with apprehension.
"You're not in a hospital," She said soothingly, and propped him up with a few pillows so he could take hus surroundings in. "But I am a doctor."
"You dont look like a doctor."
She laughed softly.
"So, where am I?"
"A safe place."
His eyes suddenly shot wide open, and his body stiffened. "Those other guys--"
"They're gone."
"--They were gonna kill me!"
She put a hand on his forehead and nodded. "They arent here. One of our people brought you here. He saved your life."
She lifted his upper lid with a thumb and shone a little torch light into his eye. "I can remember seeing someone jump in front of me, then...Nothing....."
She was jotting something on a clipboard. "You were unconcious when Logan brought you here."
Jean put the clipboard down and crossed her arms over her chest. A smile tugged at the sides of her mouth as she looked at him. "I'm sorry. I havent asked your name."
"Sebastien."
"I'm Jean Grey."
He frowned for an instant, and tilted his head towards her. "So you're the person who was trying to get into my head."
"Pardon?"
"While I was asleep, I could feel something try to push its way inside my dreams, and all I could hear was this sort of buzz that sounded like someone was talking to me from miles away. It was your voice."
Jean felt a flush of embarrassment. Time to change topics, fast. "Are you hungry?"
"Starving. So, was it you?"
"It could have been my voice you heard. Some people can hear converations going on around them even if they are in deep comas...."
Sebastien smiled, then. His jaw hurt like hell. "Maybe thats it," He said. "But I know what it felt like."
Logan looked into his coffee, stirring it slowly and watching his partial reflection ripple and reform. He was thinking about Cyclops' warning about the Friends of Humanity, and he was running the worst case scenario in his minds eye. It wasnt pretty. His only concern in any eventuality was the protection of the kids. He gave his word to Xavier that he would protect his students by any means necesary. It was clear to him why Xavier came to him with this request and not to Cyclops: Cyclops could not worry about the team and the kids at the same time.
Xavier had gathered as much information about the Friends of Humanity and Graydon Creed as he could, and Logan felt sure they were doing the same. Know thy enemy.
"Logan?"
Logan looked up to see Chamber standing in the kitchen doorway. The kid was a thin dark line as the light flooded in from the dining room. The bottom half of his face was covered with a wide leather strip, and it almost made him look normal. Logan managed a smile in his direction, and Chamber moved towards the kitchen table. "Jean asked me to find you," He said, his voice echoing inside Logan's head. "The boy you saved has woken."
Logan sipped his coffee and nodded, the smile broadening. "Thats good."
Chamber stood still and looked down at Logan, his hands clasped behind his back. Logan hesitated, then said, without looking up, "There something else, Jono?"
"Cyclops is going to question him, is that right?"
"As far as I know."
"Cyclops doesnt beleive your story." It was a simple statement.
"I'm crushed."
"And you're not telling the whole truth."
At that, Logan looked up, a frown shadowing his eyes. "Is that a fact?"
Chamber shrugged. Stiff leather creaked. "At least, thats what I think."
Logan sipped his coffee again, and scratched his chin. It sounded like he was sanding back wood. "I saw something last night that I cant explain," He replied. "And I'd just as soon not discuss it until I'm sure I saw what I saw. Maybe the kid can help me understand it, I dont know."
"Is he a m....Is he one of us?"
Logan shrugged. "To tell you the truth, I'm not sure. But he was in trouble and I helped him. Thats all I know."
Chamber nodded, which was a stiff, controlled movement. Logan couldnt imagine what it would be like to live with a physical condition like his. "If he isn't one of us, Cyclops willl probably turn him over to the proper authorities. Cyclops is scared of any more unwanted publicity."
"Cyclops isnt in charge. Xavier is."
Chamber nodded again, and began to turn away. "Cyclops isnt the sort of leader we need right now," He said when he reached the doorway. He looked back at Logan for a few moments, and Logan met his gaze. Chamber's message was clear.
Cyclops crossed his arms over his chest and sighed heavily. "We can't let this kid know his location," He said to Jean. "That would be a big mistake."
"He's just come out of a coma, for chrissakes," Jean replied, her tone heavy and quick. "He's confused, anxious and afraid. We cant keep him in the med lab forever."
"What do we know about the kid? For all we know he could have a very powerful family, and if he divulges any details about the school, we will be forced to close and the students will be turned over to the state. Is that what you want?"
Jean glared at him and sighed in annoyance. "If you really need me to answer that, then you dont know me at all."
Scott reached out and put a firm hand on her shoulder. "I didnt mean it like that. Its just...This could have been the conversation I had with Logan earlier."
"I'm not taking sides, Scott, but I will tell you now that I will not surrender this boy until we know that he is safe. It doesnt matter if he's a mutant." Her voice softened as she continued. "Just promise me that you wont do anything until I speak to Charles?"
He took his hand off her shoulder and bowed his head, then nodded. "Alright. But if Charles thinks-"
"Charles will do whats best for the boy. Dont worry."
She left the room and Cyclops watched his fiance go. He wondered if Jean had used her powers to turn his resolve around, and he felt suddenly angry. The drawback of being in a relationship with a telepath was not being able to tell when they were manipulating you, and not being able to prove it if they did.
The man on the television had a box like face and a thick neck, with squinting, bloodshot eyes. his skin tone was somewhere between red and yellow, and his hair fell in greasy tendrils over his eyes. At a geuss, Bobby would have said he was in his early forties. The graphic below the man's face identified him as Earl Landers.
"My boy is as normal as any boy made by the hands of the lord," He said in a deep, loud voice. There was a bank of microphones under his chin. "I dont know what those freaks did to him, but he came back different."
Bobby leaned foward and tunred the volume up, then looked back at Sam. Sam's expression mirrored his: Disbelief.
"I do beleive that the Lord created us all in his image. But these mutants were not part of that image. My family will never be the same again."
"I saw this kid's bruises," Bobby said to the screen, as if addressing the man directly. "A mutant didnt put them there."
"Do people really believe this guy?" Sam asked.
Bobby nodded. "Scary huh? He's giving evidence at thr Proffessor's hearing, and he has the full backing of the Friends of Humanity."
Ororo walked into the common room at that moment, and looked at the television screen. "No good can come of this man's lies," She said, reaching over to take the remote control from Bobby. "And nothing good can come from listening to them." She clicked off the TV, and looked at Sam and Bobby. "The proffessor will not let this man or his "Friends" come near this school, be sure of that."
Bobby half smiled. "Because the X-men will stop them, you mean."
"I sincerely hope that the team will not have to."
"But isnt that why the Proffessor assembled the team? To defend attacks on mutants with the same sort of fotce."
Ororo sat on the edge of the couch and shook her head. "The proffessor assmenbled us to maintain a stability between humans and mutants. That also means making sure both sides do not upset that stability."
"Like Magneto," Sam offered.
"Like Magneto. The proffessor set up the team, hoping that it would not need to be utilised. We all hope that the day will come when the X-men are no longer needed, because that means we have served our purpose."
"But until then?" Fear crept into Sam's voice as he spoke.
"Until then, the team, and the school, will be here. Ready."
Logan wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, and it came away glistening with a film of sweat. He looked up and frowned at Bobby. "Dont make me hurt ya, boy," growled. Bobby swallowed and shifted from foot to foot, unsure of what to do next. Sweat covered his face, too, and dripped from his fringe into his eyes. He weighed up his options: If he ran, Logan would catch him. If he played possum, Logan would be onto him in an instant. And he dismissed the idea of charging him head on as foolish to the point of suicidal. Logan was moving closer to him, slowly and with purpose. Bobby shifted so that Logan was always facing him directly, but soon realised that Logan had manouvered so that the sun shone directly into his eyes. Bobby sheilded his eyes with his palm outsretched, and realised that Logan had moved directly behind him in the meantime. He felt cool menace as Logan reached out and grabbed his shoulder, and knew that it would be all over if he didnt do something....
The air was ripped with a distinct cracking noise, and a fine mist rose from the ground around Logans feet. Logan looked down to see a sheet of ice spreading underneath him, just seconds before he slipped onto his back with the sound that wet meat would make if it hit a patch of ice. Bobby tore away from him and leapt into the air to slam dunk the basketball through the hoop. The small group of students watching from the sidelines cheered their approval, and Bobby took a deep bow in their direction. "And they said it couldnt be done!"
"That," Logan said, from the other end of the court. "Was cheating."
The audience booed and hissed. Logan regarded them all with a stern frown. Bobby grinned at him. He took his shirt off and wiped his face with it. "Hey, I just used my powers to facilitate attaining my goals, old man."
Logan grimaced. "Someone's been listening to Cyclops," He teased. "And beside, how would you feel if I popped my claws and sliced that hoop of its pole?" Logan held up his clenched fist and three long, metal claws popped from the back of his hand.
"I'd say you were a sore loser," Bobby replied, "Or a bad winner. Whichever way you look at it." He shrugged, and strolled away from the court, to the appreciative whoops of the already dwindling audience. Logan smiled at the boy's bravado, but he knew Bobby was scared when he popped his claws. He brought his hand up and his claws retracted back under his skin.
He looked up at an empty basketball court.
"You're good with them."
Cyclops stood just beyond the gate, looking through the wire fence at him. Logan walked towards him slowly, and retrieved the towel that hung over the top of the gate. He wiped his face and rubbed it over his chest and flat belly, then hung it around his neck. "Yeah, well, I'm good at somethin' round here."
"They respect you. That will come in handy when it comes to battle training."
Xavier had enlisted Logan's help to train the students in hand to hand combat, stealth manouvering and various defensive and offensive tactics. He was due to take a group of twenty students at the end of the semester, after Cyclops' course on using mutant powers effectively. Unlike Cyclops, Logan did not need to prove himself worthy of admiration-he figured you either had respect and admiration or you didnt. There's no use fighting for something that wasnt even there to begin with. But Xavier was impressed that Logan could reach even the most difficult students after one meeting; Logan was the only person Chamber spoke to with anything appraoching respect.
Logan began the walk back to the mansion with Cyclops behind him. "Jean thinks the men who attacked your boy were attached to The Friends of Humanity," Cyclops said.
Logan nodded. "Thought they looked the type."
"If thats the case, we need to tighten security around the mansion. They've known about the school for some time, and now they have reason enough to come knocking on our doors."
"They should get outta the business if they get upset over every little hanger-on stupid enough to walk in front of a bus."
"I'm serious. Two men are dead. One is missing, gone underground for all we know, and right now we're very vunerable. They might see an opportunity, Logan."
Logan stopped and looked over his shoulder at Cyclops. "We can handle it."
They began walking again. Cyclops was beside Logan now, and his face was shadowing his concerns without really reflecting much. Logan's calm response was not appropriate, and he didnt feel that a flippant reaction was called for, and he said so.
Logan kept walked, without so much as a hitch in his stride. "I've not encountered an enemy stupid enough to take their attack right into unfamiliar territory," He said, squinting into the sun for a second. "They dont know whats waiting for them inside the grounds, and we have a distinct advantage. The rest writes itself."
Detective Morgan waited in a tastefully appointed office, his sunglasses dangling from his hand from between his knees. The carpet was plush red, the desk polished oak; it screamed of taxpayer-funded extravangance. On the walls hung framed black and white prints of groups of men with sombre expressions and drab suits. Most looked as if they were taken in the 1950's.
He hooked one ankle sround the other and sighed as he settled into his comfortable chair. The secretary outside had told him his wait would last no longer than ten minutes, and that was twenty minutes ago. He tucked his glasses into his jacket pocket and rubbed his palms flat on is thighs. It was like waiting in the principals office.
A door opened and Morgan stood as Graydon Creed, the leader of the Friends of Humanity, entered the room. Creed was a tall, solid man of about 30, whose eyes were intense, and his face looked as though it had been carved from granite. His brown hair was cropped military short. Creed had the charisma of a leader and the looks of a football star. It was an unbeatable combination, and people flocked to him in droves.
Morgan accepted Creed's hand and shook it before sitting back down. Creed walked around his desk. "My secreatry tells me you've been waiting for some time," He said with a deep, resonant voice as he sat. "My apologies. I'm afraid you give up any chance of having free time when you decide to enter public life."
"I appreciate you taking the time to see me," Morgan said, with more warmth than he felt. "I wouldnt be here if it wasnt important."
Creed smiled with a mouthful of perfectly white teeth. "Of course. And I realise you are a busy man, too. So lets cut to the chase, as it were. What can I help you with?"
Morgan shifted in his seat and produced his notepad, although he'd already rehearsed his speil on the way over. The notepad just made it look official. He glanced up and asked, "Does the name John Klyne mean anything to you?"
Creed frowned and leaned foward. He rubbed his chin for a few seconds, then shook his head, slowly. "Cant say it does, detective."
Morgan cleared his throat, then continued. "What about James Travis?"
Again the Creed head shake, full of polite concern. "No. I meet so many people every day, and its hard to recall all of them."
Morgan nodded, but kept his face blank. "Both men died last night, appparently by their own hands. They were both identified as members of the Friends of Humanity, and Their families have told police that they visited your party headquarters in Westchester, and left after a meeting that you held."
Something flashed in Creed's eyes, and his smile changed from a congenial one to a sad, strained one. "Oh, my. That's terrible. And you are investigating their deaths?"
"Thats right."
"But I thought you said they took their own lives?"
"Yes sir, thats right."
"But why is a homicide detective investigating their deaths?"
Morgan flipped through the pages of his notepad for effect. "First of all, can you confirm their attendance at your meeting?"
Creed shrugged. "We have so many members, its hard to keep track of....I dont know, but maybe we can have a look at our security tapes, see who showed up, ask around. Its such a terrible tragedy when people take their own lives...."
"Would you also know of a Jeremiah Blacksmith, Mr. Creed?"
Creed's eyes flashed again, and he nodded. "I do know of Jeremiah. Good boy, clean christian boy. He heads up our Young Friends of Humanity chapter." Creed's jaw bulged. "Is he... Did he..."
Morgan held up a hand. "At present time, we do not know where Jeremiah is. We were wondering if he turned up at your compound?"
Creed shook his head. "No, he hasnt. In fact, we were getting worried. He didnt show up for our weekly youth issues meeting, and it did concern me. He's usually such a responsible boy."
"He may have witnessed what happened to the other boys. Its important that we speak with him. Do you have a number, an address, something, that we could contact his parents with?"
"I can certainly try."
***
Rain pelted down on his face, and he had the momentary feeling of weightlessness as strong, muscular arms scooped him up. His cheek was pressed up against a wet shirt and he could hear ragged breathing rolling in and out like the tide. He could smell wet skin and the slight sourness of sweat. He felt safe and warm, and he felt like he could sleep forever....But there was something he was forgetting.
Of course. Where were his manners?
His voice came out soft and small, and sounded like it was far away. "Thank you."
A voice that sounded like a contained growl responded: "Don't mention it."
Sebastien opened his eyes to harsh flourescent light, and brought his hand up to his face to block it out. He groaned and licked his lips, which tasted slightly of copper. His head pounded and felt like throwing up.
"You're awake."
Sebastien lowered his hand and blinked rapidly at the red headed woman leaning toward him. She smiled and patted his hand before checking his temperature and checking his chart. "Are...Are you a doctor? Am I in a hospital?" He asked, and looked around the stark, sterile room with apprehension.
"You're not in a hospital," She said soothingly, and propped him up with a few pillows so he could take hus surroundings in. "But I am a doctor."
"You dont look like a doctor."
She laughed softly.
"So, where am I?"
"A safe place."
His eyes suddenly shot wide open, and his body stiffened. "Those other guys--"
"They're gone."
"--They were gonna kill me!"
She put a hand on his forehead and nodded. "They arent here. One of our people brought you here. He saved your life."
She lifted his upper lid with a thumb and shone a little torch light into his eye. "I can remember seeing someone jump in front of me, then...Nothing....."
She was jotting something on a clipboard. "You were unconcious when Logan brought you here."
Jean put the clipboard down and crossed her arms over her chest. A smile tugged at the sides of her mouth as she looked at him. "I'm sorry. I havent asked your name."
"Sebastien."
"I'm Jean Grey."
He frowned for an instant, and tilted his head towards her. "So you're the person who was trying to get into my head."
"Pardon?"
"While I was asleep, I could feel something try to push its way inside my dreams, and all I could hear was this sort of buzz that sounded like someone was talking to me from miles away. It was your voice."
Jean felt a flush of embarrassment. Time to change topics, fast. "Are you hungry?"
"Starving. So, was it you?"
"It could have been my voice you heard. Some people can hear converations going on around them even if they are in deep comas...."
Sebastien smiled, then. His jaw hurt like hell. "Maybe thats it," He said. "But I know what it felt like."
Logan looked into his coffee, stirring it slowly and watching his partial reflection ripple and reform. He was thinking about Cyclops' warning about the Friends of Humanity, and he was running the worst case scenario in his minds eye. It wasnt pretty. His only concern in any eventuality was the protection of the kids. He gave his word to Xavier that he would protect his students by any means necesary. It was clear to him why Xavier came to him with this request and not to Cyclops: Cyclops could not worry about the team and the kids at the same time.
Xavier had gathered as much information about the Friends of Humanity and Graydon Creed as he could, and Logan felt sure they were doing the same. Know thy enemy.
"Logan?"
Logan looked up to see Chamber standing in the kitchen doorway. The kid was a thin dark line as the light flooded in from the dining room. The bottom half of his face was covered with a wide leather strip, and it almost made him look normal. Logan managed a smile in his direction, and Chamber moved towards the kitchen table. "Jean asked me to find you," He said, his voice echoing inside Logan's head. "The boy you saved has woken."
Logan sipped his coffee and nodded, the smile broadening. "Thats good."
Chamber stood still and looked down at Logan, his hands clasped behind his back. Logan hesitated, then said, without looking up, "There something else, Jono?"
"Cyclops is going to question him, is that right?"
"As far as I know."
"Cyclops doesnt beleive your story." It was a simple statement.
"I'm crushed."
"And you're not telling the whole truth."
At that, Logan looked up, a frown shadowing his eyes. "Is that a fact?"
Chamber shrugged. Stiff leather creaked. "At least, thats what I think."
Logan sipped his coffee again, and scratched his chin. It sounded like he was sanding back wood. "I saw something last night that I cant explain," He replied. "And I'd just as soon not discuss it until I'm sure I saw what I saw. Maybe the kid can help me understand it, I dont know."
"Is he a m....Is he one of us?"
Logan shrugged. "To tell you the truth, I'm not sure. But he was in trouble and I helped him. Thats all I know."
Chamber nodded, which was a stiff, controlled movement. Logan couldnt imagine what it would be like to live with a physical condition like his. "If he isn't one of us, Cyclops willl probably turn him over to the proper authorities. Cyclops is scared of any more unwanted publicity."
"Cyclops isnt in charge. Xavier is."
Chamber nodded again, and began to turn away. "Cyclops isnt the sort of leader we need right now," He said when he reached the doorway. He looked back at Logan for a few moments, and Logan met his gaze. Chamber's message was clear.
Cyclops crossed his arms over his chest and sighed heavily. "We can't let this kid know his location," He said to Jean. "That would be a big mistake."
"He's just come out of a coma, for chrissakes," Jean replied, her tone heavy and quick. "He's confused, anxious and afraid. We cant keep him in the med lab forever."
"What do we know about the kid? For all we know he could have a very powerful family, and if he divulges any details about the school, we will be forced to close and the students will be turned over to the state. Is that what you want?"
Jean glared at him and sighed in annoyance. "If you really need me to answer that, then you dont know me at all."
Scott reached out and put a firm hand on her shoulder. "I didnt mean it like that. Its just...This could have been the conversation I had with Logan earlier."
"I'm not taking sides, Scott, but I will tell you now that I will not surrender this boy until we know that he is safe. It doesnt matter if he's a mutant." Her voice softened as she continued. "Just promise me that you wont do anything until I speak to Charles?"
He took his hand off her shoulder and bowed his head, then nodded. "Alright. But if Charles thinks-"
"Charles will do whats best for the boy. Dont worry."
She left the room and Cyclops watched his fiance go. He wondered if Jean had used her powers to turn his resolve around, and he felt suddenly angry. The drawback of being in a relationship with a telepath was not being able to tell when they were manipulating you, and not being able to prove it if they did.
The man on the television had a box like face and a thick neck, with squinting, bloodshot eyes. his skin tone was somewhere between red and yellow, and his hair fell in greasy tendrils over his eyes. At a geuss, Bobby would have said he was in his early forties. The graphic below the man's face identified him as Earl Landers.
"My boy is as normal as any boy made by the hands of the lord," He said in a deep, loud voice. There was a bank of microphones under his chin. "I dont know what those freaks did to him, but he came back different."
Bobby leaned foward and tunred the volume up, then looked back at Sam. Sam's expression mirrored his: Disbelief.
"I do beleive that the Lord created us all in his image. But these mutants were not part of that image. My family will never be the same again."
"I saw this kid's bruises," Bobby said to the screen, as if addressing the man directly. "A mutant didnt put them there."
"Do people really believe this guy?" Sam asked.
Bobby nodded. "Scary huh? He's giving evidence at thr Proffessor's hearing, and he has the full backing of the Friends of Humanity."
Ororo walked into the common room at that moment, and looked at the television screen. "No good can come of this man's lies," She said, reaching over to take the remote control from Bobby. "And nothing good can come from listening to them." She clicked off the TV, and looked at Sam and Bobby. "The proffessor will not let this man or his "Friends" come near this school, be sure of that."
Bobby half smiled. "Because the X-men will stop them, you mean."
"I sincerely hope that the team will not have to."
"But isnt that why the Proffessor assembled the team? To defend attacks on mutants with the same sort of fotce."
Ororo sat on the edge of the couch and shook her head. "The proffessor assmenbled us to maintain a stability between humans and mutants. That also means making sure both sides do not upset that stability."
"Like Magneto," Sam offered.
"Like Magneto. The proffessor set up the team, hoping that it would not need to be utilised. We all hope that the day will come when the X-men are no longer needed, because that means we have served our purpose."
"But until then?" Fear crept into Sam's voice as he spoke.
"Until then, the team, and the school, will be here. Ready."