Flickering Souls

Chapter Four: Scott and The Author

Soon enough Scott found himself at the address the Professor had provided. It was a large brick building that resembled a tower. It seemed to dwarf everything around it and Scott couldn't believe that he had never seen it before. A part of him wondered if it had been there last week but he dismissed the thought as fantasy.

Scott knocked tentatively on the door, and despite being locked just a moment ago, it opened easily and under it's own power on his third knock.

"Hello?" Scott poked his head inside.

A bell sounded and he turned toward the noise. It was an elevator arriving. The doors opened and it was empty.

Inside the elevator was a directory of names and addresses.

Scott pulled out the slip of paper that Xavier had given him. It had no room or floor number.

Scott eyed the sign without entering the elevator. Sure enough he found it. The Author – Top floor.

Scott stepped in and the doors snapped shut behind him. He turned to find that there were no buttons to push – just a readout of the current floor level.

The elevator car began to shake and wobble as it shot, full speed, toward the top of the building. The floor counter was a wild blur. Dust shook loose from the ceiling. Scott braced himself against the handrail and debated the best way to stop the car with his optic blast.

And then … it all stopped.

The bell sounded again and the doors opened.

A woman sitting at a desk across the room pushed a button on her phone and announced "Sir, I believe your three o'clock has arrived."

"Show him in." A voice replied.

The woman smiled politely. "Rough ride, isn't it?" She asked with a smile.

Scott nodded.

"He's right in here." She pursed her lips. "I should probably tell you …" She paused before the closed door. "He's not very fond of you." She seemed to radiate sympathy.

"Any idea why?" Scott asked, trying to put the degradation to good use.

The woman shrugged apologetically. "I heard him call you 'anal' once." She offered.

"Thanks." Scott told her, although he wasn't real sure why, and she opened the door.

She closed it again behind him.

The Author was not what Scott had expected. They were roughly the same height and build. The Author wore glasses, a ponytail and two silver rings. He sat at a comfortable computer desk and the soft glow of the monitor lit his face.

"Ummm…" Scott began.

The Author smiled slightly. "Great dialog Scott. You're making me look bad." He confirmed.

Scott steeled himself against the moment.

"Sorry." Scott said. "I've been a little pre-occupied with everyone telling me how much you hate me."

The Author smiled. "I can't say I actually hate anyone." He explained. "I just find you … disappointing."

"How so?" Scott wondered out loud.

"Unfairly, mostly. I mean, you are what you are. It's just …" He considered him. "You exist in other places too you know, other dimensions and such. And most of you, the other Scott Summers …" He shrugged. "They're more genuine. They trust their own leadership abilities enough to be people too." He smiled. "In their spare time, any way."

Scott stared at him, speechless for a moment before quietly adding. "I am what … and who I am."

The Author eyed him. "But are you still trying to be more? Or did you quit trying once you got comfortable?"

Scott balked. There was a side of him that didn't want to push his luck – his life with Xavier had been more than he could have hoped – could it be that he had forgot to want more? Had he grown complacent?

"But that's not why we're here." The Author told him.

"No." Scott agreed. "I came to ask you for a …"

"A gift." The Author told him. "I know."

"You do?" Scott asked.

And the Author spun his monitor to face Scott. The last line read : And the Author spun his monitor to face Scott.

"You've been watching us." Scott decided as the words appeared on the screen.

The Author swung it back in to his view.

"Writing you actually. I'm writing this now." He replied.

"How?" Scott asked.

"In my world, on a computer. I'm not really here." He told him.

"Am I?" Scott asked – forcing the Author to smile.

"Quite a question, isn't it? Even in my world." The Author smiled. "But it's best to avoid dwelling on stuff like that. It causes headaches."

"I'll bet." Scott told him.

"Forgive me, please sit down." The Author smiled and Scott lowered himself in to one of the chairs that faced his desk.

"So, about the gift of contentment."

"Done." The Author told him quickly.

"What?' Scott had expected more of a … something.

"Sure." The Author told him. "Xavier made some good points a few pages back."

"So why am I here?" Scott asked.

And the Author pulled out a contract. "Just sign here."

Scott picked up the pen. "At the X, right."

"Naturally." The Author told him.

And Scott signed the contract.

"Hey …" Scott eyed the signed contract. "This date – that not this Christmas. This is for next Christmas."

The Author lifted his hand and Scott realized that he no longer had the contract – The Author did. "Good call." He told Scott. "I've already got my three signatures for this year. So I'm banking this one for next year."

"Is that … fair?" It suddenly occurred to Scott that Xavier hadn't told him to sign anything.

"Fair?" The Author looked perturbed. "Do you want to talk about fair? I did this last year as a part of an exchange with another dimensions Gambit. In return for his chance to live a decent life – He would introduce mutancy in to my world using the same techniques I used to manipulate your world."

"Wow." Scott sat stunned. "Why?" He shook his head. "It's a hassle."

"Because it's necessary." He snapped. "I'm sorry." He looked away. "You just don't know my world."

The Author looked Scott in the eye. "Trust me – no one there is doing anything at all – to aid in the evolution of our species."

"That's why you don't like me, isn't it. Because you think I'm not trying." It was a statement and not a question.

The Author nodded as he spoke. "When you seem to have an almost infinite number of opportunities to do otherwise."

"Okay." Scott said. "So make me earn it – this gift of yours. If your whole world has my problem – if you understand it so well - then teach me something."

The Author flashed an unsettling grin and cast him a cold and sterile glare. "I intend to."

"What happened, with the mutancy in your world?" Scott asked.

"Someone slipped a date in to the final draft. I suspect a conspiracy. They set it in the future – December 21, 2012. And now I have to keep the attention of my readers and keep the plot line running until then if I want it to happen."

"I'm sorry." Scott said softly, surprised to find that he meant it.

"Don't sweat it." The Author smiled smugly.

"So how does this begin?" Scott asked hesitantly.

"Like this." The Author told him.

And The Author clapped his hands once, quickly and Scott vanished in to a puff of soft purple smoke.