Talons
Chapter 7
Xavier had been in Cerebro for the past hour, searching for Kurt. To say it was tedious would have been an understatement. Cerebro was not designed to be used for more than ten minutes at a time. He didn't dare try to hook into the main Westchester grid for the power; the drain would attract too much attention. He was limited to using the Mansion's capacitor, which took time to recharge. Ten minutes on, ten off, ten on, ten off.
So far, he hadn't found Kurt.
Xavier waited with growing impatience for the power indicator to turn green. He tapped his fingers on the side of the controls, as if that would somehow speed things along. He hadn't bothered removing Cerebro's helmet; he just sat there, staring into the cavernous space. Waiting. Waiting was all that it seemed anyone could do right now.
The indicator went to green. Xavier closed his eyes and calmed himself in preparation. Perhaps, this time, he would have more success. The chamber darkened, then filled with countless points of red light. Xavier mentally flew by dozens of red motes, which briefly resolved into men, women, or young adults as he passed. Thousands of mutants, and, as usual, he only wanted to find one.
To his shock, he found Kurt almost immediately. He was so close by, less than fifty miles away from the mansion. Xavier closed in on the image, then gritted his teeth. Kurt was in pain. Charles could feel it even over Cerebro's dampened link. He was laying on the ground... drawing something in the dirt with his finger? As Xavier cast about, getting a feel for the area, he felt another presence. Something so utterly alien that Cerebro couldn't lock onto it. Whatever it was, it was within bare feet of Kurt, and Kurt was making no moves to escape. Kurt was clearly agitated, but was that from fear or pain?
There was only one way to find out.
:
If he and "Kh't'kh" were going to talk, Kurt could only think of one truly universal language. No matter where you went, one plus one always equaled two. He dug that simple equation into the dirt before him with his left, uninjured hand, first with symbols, then with Arabic numbers:
. + . = ..
1 + 1 = 2
Kh't'kh extended a limb over the two equations, mouths clicking away. It carved strange symbols into the dirt just below Kurt's numbers. The ground was slowly turning into the equivalent of a Rosetta Stone.
Kh't'kh then carved another formula, using the same basic "dot" symbols Kurt had used:
. + . + . = ...
1 + 1 + 1 =
It pulled back, plainly waiting for Kurt to fill in the numeral for three. Kurt did so.
This is all well and good, but how am I going to say, "Hello, my name is Kurt, exactly why did your people attack us" using numbers? he thought.
That pain in his ears was getting worse. He ground his teeth and started a new line of numbers. It gave him something besides the dizzying, ringing pain to focus on.
Kurt.
Kurt gasped and froze. Professor?
Kurt, are you in danger?
From my injuries, perhaps. From my newfound friend, no.
"Newfound friend"? Can I assume that is the alien presence I feel in front of you?
Yes.
Kurt was now listing numbers, from zero through twelve, with accompanying dots. It would be faster to make a mathematical "dictionary" for Kh't'kh than to keep going with simple addition.
You're trying to communicate with this being, Xavier thought. And it seems to be reciprocating, from what you're showing me.
The other ones were intent upon capturing or killing, but this one is not. I'm not sure of anything else, but this one is peaceful, and wounded.
According to Storm, your "abductor" was being shot at as it ran away with you. I wonder if we are not caught between two warring parties. This is going to take time to sort out. Stay where you are. I'm coming with Storm and Colossus to get you both.
Staying is no problem, Professor. It's moving that I can't do.
The pain turned into a stab of agonizing intensity. Kurt grimaced and held his hands over ears, a strangled moan escaping him. For a moment he felt utterly alone, with only ringing, vertigo, and pain for company. As the white-hot needles retracted from his ears, he could become aware of the Professor again, and then of the ground, the comforting darkness, and Kh't'kh.
Please... hurry, Kurt thought weakly.
:
Kotoko watched with no small amount of sympathy as Khhhtt curled up again, issuing sounds of distress. This time it did not come out of it. It stayed that way, pressing its limbs to either side of its nub, its body clenched in pain. It started speaking again, softly and quickly, its voice like a repeating, musical chant.
Kotoko extended a limb and laid it alongside Khhhtt to give some measure of comfort and support.
"We're a sight, aren't we, little guy?" he said softly. "Neither one of us are in any condition to walk, so we just stay here trying to teach each other math. I wonder if you're a warrior? You've been pretty good at working through pain up 'till now."
As time passed, he felt something odd. Something alien. A strange itching at the back of his mind. What was going on? Was someone else there? There was no one but Khhhtt in the structure with him.
...Friend....
A voice? A disembodied voice, so loud and clear, and yet it did not come from any one place. It was as if it began and ended in his own mind. Kotoko slowly rose up on his tips.
...No harm.... Difficult... give aid....
"Where are you?" Kotoko demanded aloud.
...Look inside....
Kotoko moved over Khhhtt and crouched just above it, giving the vulnerable creature what protection he could.
"I don't see you inside the structure!" Kotoko shouted. "Show yourself, now! Shut off your camouflage field!"
The hidden conversationalist smiled somewhere. You move to protect our comrade. That is not necessary, but I am pleased to see you do it.
The words were more fluid, now. Kotoko got the distinct impression of a learned individual, an elder.
I am Kurt's teacher, Charles Xavier. I am coming with others to retrieve you both. Kurt tells me you are injured as well.
"You're... in communication with him? Is this how your species communicate with each other?"
What I do is very rare, indeed. I do not think you will find another who can speak so directly. Will you allow me further in?
Kotoko moved off of Khhhtt (or was it Kurt?) and curled up nearby, just inches away. He wanted to find a way to communicate with these creatures, and it had just been presented to him.
Yes, Kotoko thought. Come speak with me, Charles Xavier, teacher of Kurt. I am Kotoko, First Rank Scout of the peoples' rebellion. I have to explain things. I don't know how much time we have before the King's Own find us again.
:
Xavier's body was calmly sitting in his wheelchair, which Colossus was securing inside the Blackbird. But as Storm went hastily through the final system checks, Xavier's mind was elsewhere. He stood in a dark blue void, listening to the thoughts of an alien.
Yes, the being thought. Come speak with me, Charles Xavier, teacher of Kurt. I am Kotoko, First Rank Scout of the peoples' rebellion. I have to explain things. I don't know how much time we have before the King's Own find us again.
The imagery changed. All around Xavier rose a shimmering, transparent field, a mental filter that would render images in a familiar format. From the other side, someone faded into view, as if walking out of a dense fog. The person resolved into an Asian male in the prime of life. Xavier's subconscious choice of race was no doubt influenced by Kotoko's Japanese-sounding name. The figure was dressed in the distinctive uniform of a Green Beret. And yet over that, he wore a white lab coat with several pens sticking out of the breast pocket. He saw himself as both soldier and scientist.
Kurt was right in his estimation to Xavier. Kotoko was wounded and running the ragged edge of exhaustion. His clothes, both uniform and lab coat, were stained with blood, and he walked with a slight limp. Still, he approached with determination and calm. For one in such poor condition, he had remarkable discipline.
Kotoko's eyes widened as he beheld Xavier from his side of the filter. He put up one hand and tentatively reached out touch him. Xavier put his hand out in return. Kotoko grasped his hand in wonder.
"Are you one of us?" he asked, shocked.
"No, but it is an image you are comfortable with," Xavier replied. "To me, you look like one of our warrior elite, as well as a scientist."
"And to me, you are a teacher," Kotoko responded. "A man of learning and experience...." He traced a line over Xavier's face, his finger just above his skin. "Not all of it pleasant, judging by the scars."
Interesting. Xavier had never seen himself as one scarred, and neither had anyone else. Had Alkali Lake affected him so deeply, or was Kotoko that sensitive? Kotoko stood back to a more formal distance and bowed, as a junior to his superior.
"Teacher Xavier, your people are in great danger," he stated. "Your world has come to the notice of the King's Own."
Images flashed behind Kotoko as he spoke. The images were honest and unskilled, laden with emotions. The first few scenes were those of companionship with his troop, which Xavier saw as a platoon of soldiers in casual fatigues, laughing and playing cards in a field tent. Also there were spots of joy Kotoko felt when on scouting missions to different worlds. He was part scout, part forward observer, and when the opportunity arose, part anthropologist. He had met several different intelligent species besides his own, and part of him always yearned to stay and study further.
But then the scenes changed. Xavier's eyes narrowed. Kotoko's loathing of the King and the King's Own was so strong that it dredged up the darkest images from Xavier's memory. The "King's Own" took the form of Nazis, and the king himself Hitler. There were camps, much like Stalinistic gulags, where Kotoko's people perished by the millions. There were torture rooms. There were child soldiers drafted into battle. The only horror that Kotoko had not witnessed, nor even considered, was rape. Apparently, that particular form of violation and domination just didn't apply to his race.
"As far as we can tell," Kotoko continued, "they have been sending reconnaissance to this place for the better part of two years. Until recently they were sending scientific surveys away from populated areas, checking for suitability. But now, the war has gone so badly for the despot's forces that they are growing desperate for a fallback position. Your world is the closest, and the most suitable, and I fear that they have already gained a beachhead."
Xavier saw pictures of soldiers collecting samples of water, plants, soil, air, and small animals, all done somewhere deep in the wilderness. And then Charles saw something that made him start with surprise. When Kotoko mentioned "beachhead", he brought up an unfiltered, all-too-familiar image of the three rigs that had attacked the institute last night.
"Wait," Xavier said. "These vehicles. When did you see them?"
"At daybreak. I picked up the distinct signals from the King's Own from very close to this spot, but by the time I arrived, they had been off for hours. They are your vehicles?"
"These vehicles attacked us last night. They held advanced exoskeleton weaponry, and they used pilots from my race to power them."
"Your race? I...don't understand. Surely the King's Own have not been here long enough...to do experimentation on...your people?"
Kotoko's voice trailed off in horror. Images leapt up around them, abstract views of men being merged with machines, being exposed to chemical and biological agents. In short, being used as unwilling test subjects. Xavier could tell that Kotoko himself had not witnessed these atrocities, but he had heard of them.
Storm's voice floated through to Xavier from the outside. "Professor, we've landed."
Xavier put his hand on Kotoko's shoulder. "Kotoko, there are two more of my kind arriving. They're coming in to help you and Kurt."
Kotoko nodded, but his calm demeanor had been shattered. He was trembling, his breaths short and shallow, his skin paling. The idea that the King's Own had established itself here so strongly was more frightening to him than the looming specter of his own demise. Xavier gave his shoulder a squeeze.
"Kotoko, trust us. As you may have noticed, we're not defenseless."
To be continued….