THE HEAVENS OPEN
By Stormkeeper (stormkpr@usa.net)
As always, I wish to thank my beta tester Leigh for assisting with every aspect of my writing. Actually, the term "beta tester" doesn't really do Leigh justice. She helps me create and perfect ideas and is taking a very active role in writing this fic. I have no way to express my gratitude to you, Leigh.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
**************
Jean-Paul returned from a session with the Professor and announced, "I'm going on this mission."
Jeanne-Marie and I were sitting on one of the porch swings, not doing much else besides talking and swinging. Her expression remained unchanged upon hearing the news, but I smiled and jumped up to hug Jean-Paul. "That's great! I'm so happy!"
"What changed your mind?" Jeanne-Marie muttered. Wow, she did **not** sound happy. The swing soon lost momentum. She and I had discussed the question of going on the mission versus staying, and she said she "wouldn't mind" the chance to remain on An'zhina. The disappointment was all over her face. If Jeanne-Marie wanted to stay, she certainly could but I knew she didn't want to be separated from Jean-Paul. They'd separated like this once before, back before her son Stephan left, and she'd **hated** just waiting on An'zhina for her twin to return.
"The Professor is a wise man," Jean-Paul said, turning his head in his sister's direction but still embracing me. "I have learned that I am going to bring my woes with me whether I stay here or go. I have to face my fears about FOH," he insisted, releasing me from the hug. "And I have to deal with all that has occurred in the past few years, and let myself grieve. Running from it is not going to make it go away."
I listened to his words and knew they were sincere. Still, I wonder if he comprehended all that process could entail. I was no psychology expert, but I had to guess that he was still suppressing the grief over his loss of Philippe and the rest of Alpha Flight.
Jean-Paul and I then sat back down on the porch swing with Jeanne-Marie. "You're not happy to hear this," he said to her.
"It does not matter to me," she said, her voice listless. "I want to be with you. If you go, I'll go. Maybe we can do some good for earth."
"For our fellow mutants," I added.
"I wish the Professor was coming with," Jean-Paul said wistfully. "A few sessions with him did a me world of good. He helped me to see what was bothering me in perspective. Helped me really think through all these questions I had. I feel so much better."
He then reached for his sister's hand and held it. "Don't be sad, ma soeur. Please, be glad for me that I'm going to be dealing with all of this. And I know that deep down, you do want to go on this mission too."
She made a face and then forced a smile. "I told you that I would support whatever decision you make. If you want to go on this mission, then that is good. And half of me does want to help the people on earth. Even though I like it here," she added. I knew that for Jeanne-Marie, having conflicting emotions about something was par for the course.
That evening, Jean-Paul and I were walking in the forest after dinner, eating ice cream cones. I had to bring up the question that had been on my mind so much lately. "Do you think of Philippe a lot?" I asked. "I was just wondering, because you don't talk about him much." I tried to keep any hint of jealousy and worry out of my voice. "Or at all." What I said was true. I'd hardly heard Philippe's name from him at all, and especially not in the last few months to a year. He had mentioned Philippe a few times back when we had first started dating, but that was about it. In fact, I realized how little I knew about this man--- I had no idea what Philippe was like as a person, what he did for a living, or even how he met Jean-Paul.
"We've never really discussed this, have we?" he asked softly.
"Neither of us ever brought it up," I said, with a shrug. "I didn't want to bring it up because I assumed it would pain you."
"And I never brought it up because I've been suppressing it all these years," he added. "I've been trying to forget."
I stopped walking and turned to look directly at Jean-Paul. I can't explain why, but the darkness of the impending night was comforting. "When you talked with the Professor, did he suggest anything like….like the fact that going into a relationship with me might've been a way for you to ---to, you know, suppress your sadness over losing Philippe?" I gulped. This thought had lurked in the back of my mind before but I'd never vocalized it to anyone. I think I'd tried to forget it. And it's not like I doubted that Jean-Paul loved me either. But you had to wonder at him getting together with me less than a year after finding out that Philippe had been killed.
"We did discuss it. Bobby….Bobby, you know that I love you," he began, reaching for one of my hands and grasping it. My hand was sticky from the remnants of my ice cream cone. We both giggled as he wiped his hand on his pants. I shook my head and pretended to be disgusted at that. I then used my powers to frost over one of my hands and squirt some ice water at his sticky hand.
"Better?" I teased.
"Much," he said. He then popped the rest of his ice cream cone in his mouth. A tiny remnant of the dessert was left on the side of his face. I used an iced-over finger to dab at that. (He hated to have mess or stickiness on his fingers, so I wanted to clean it for him.) As always, when I touched his face I noticed how soft and smooth the skin there was.
"Merci," he said. "But seriously, amour, what I was saying is that I love you. I love you very much---I know that. And yes, I think getting involved with you not long after Philippe died was a way to help me stifle what had happened. But it doesn't mean that I love you any less. It just means that I still need to deal with his loss---and with everything else that has happened"
I nodded. "I want to be there to help you, Jean-Paul. We can deal with this together."
He reached to kiss me. It was a brief kiss. He then stepped back and said, "I can accept your offer for help. This stuff is not easy for me, you know. Not at all. Part of me still hates to admit that I could use some help. But from you, ma coeur, I accept it and I do not mind showing some vulnerability."
I digested Jean-Paul's words, enjoying them. I admired his maturity in saying these things to me too, and I silently thanked Xavier for the time he'd spent with him. Jean-Paul and I then walked hand in hand, through the forest. I finally vocalized all those questions that I had in my head earlier. "Jean-Paul, I realized how little I know about Philippe. I was wondering if you'd be comfortable in talking about him. I am just curious to hear about him."
"I would not mind sharing at all. Please, ask whatever question you like. Anything. I have been silent about him for far too long and I welcome the chance to talk."
"Good," I said. Wow. Jean-Paul had come so far. Professor X was truly amazing to help Jean-Paul get to this point. I really wished Xavier would be coming on this journey as well. "So tell me everything. What did he look like? How did you meet? What did he do for a living?"
"Whoa---one at a time, amour! Let me see here. Philippe worked for some big company…I think he said they manufactured or sold office equipment or something. I was never really sure what he did, but he said his title was Property Manager. I think it had something to do with real estate or buildings….or something."
I smiled at Jean-Paul's description of Philippe's work. I had worked in corporate America for several years so I knew a bit about business and about jobs, but there were several other X-men who had no idea—and no interest—about those kind of things. And a corporate job was not as easy to understand or basic as a straightforward job like teacher or doctor.
"He was a handsome man," Jean-Paul continued. I was not surprised. "He had dark hair, brown eyes---beautiful, big eyes. Let me see…. he had a square chin…he was very manly. Big nose. But he was very handsome. He was taller than me, by an inch or two. Muscular too, but not as much as I." Jean-Paul stated that straightforwardly, as a simple fact but I knew that he had his competitive side too. "I so much wish that I had a picture of him. When Jeanne-Marie and Shaman and I returned to earth to search for our families, I…" he broke off for a second, perhaps too pained to go on. I held his hand a little more firmly. After a bit, he continued, "I remember frantically searching the rubble for a picture, until Shaman and Silver Moon had to drag me away."
That was another thing Jean-Paul never spoke about---the months that he and the others stayed on earth until we X-men rendezvoused with them again. But this was not the time to ask.
"What about his personality?" I asked.
"He was….let me see how to describe," Jean-Paul began. "He tended to be quiet but he was very…solid. He didn't talk a lot, but when he did, he really had something to say. And he could be very forthright. He never lied and he would call it like he saw it. He took me down for my arrogance many times. When I started acting egotistical, he wouldn't have any of it."
I smiled. "Wow."
"Trust me, amour. When Jeanne-Marie says that Philippe helped to change me for the better, she is right."
"I always assumed, from his name, that he was a Quebecer like you, right?"
"Yes."
"How old was he?" I asked. I then added, "Sorry---I know it sounds like I'm giving you the third-degree here. I'm just really curious."
"It's okay. It feels good to talk about this. It feels wonderful since I haven't talked about him for so long. Now let me see….Philippe was five years older than I. When we met, I was 30, I think, and he was 35," Jean-Paul answered.
"How did you two meet?" I asked.
He smiled. "Well, it sounds like a gay stereotype, but we met at the gym. Alpha Flight had its own work out facility, of course but there were times I just liked to get away from the team, so I belonged to a public gym. Philippe and I met in front of some piece of equipment one evening. He asked me how to use it. I had no idea but I tried to impress him by making something up." Jean-Paul and I shared a laugh over that. I could **so** see that happening, too. "We talked for hours," he continued, "and then we walked to this nearby place that had great smoothies. And we kept talking."
"And then…?" I probed.
"We went back to his place and made love," he said simply.
"So what was the sex like? I mean, if you don't mind me asking," I added. I was intrigued, though, at what he might say. I knew nothing of his sex life with anyone before me. I knew that he'd played the bar scene when he was young. But we hadn't talked much about our previous sex lives at all, really, except that he'd once said that he always preferred to top though he liked to occasionally bottom too. (And I'd said the reverse was true for me, which was partly why we were such a great fit in bed.)
"I don't mind you asking---you can ask whatever you want. The sex was good. I mean, it was alright," he added. "Philippe didn't like to bottom too much. He preferred to give and receive blow jobs but he wasn't really into fucking. So as time went by, I only got to do it when it was like---my birthday or some other special occasion."
I guess I couldn't resist a smile there, because Jean-Paul pretty much got whatever he wanted in bed with me and I knew how much he liked 'fucking' (as he'd so delicately put it.) But, glad for the surrounding darkness, I quickly tried to lose my smile once I realized that it was really inappropriate. So he had better sex with me than with Philippe. It hardly mattered and I was not in a competition with a dead man. Suddenly feeling ashamed of my emotion, I fervently hoped Jean-Paul hadn't seen the smile. "He wasn't a mutant, was he?" I asked, trying to get the conversation off that track.
"No. But he had no problem with me being one. I told him the day we met, and he said that he knew---he'd recognized me as a member of Alpha Flight. As if my ears didn't give it away too. Philippe said he'd never met a mutant before but he didn't have a problem with it. Despite the fact that most people hated us by then, to Philippe it was never an issue."
We went on talking for a bit longer. The conversation had started to drift away from Philippe.
"It is not just his loss that I must deal with," Jean-Paul said. "There is everyone else in Alpha Flight who was tortured and killed. There was my own torture to deal with." He was quiet and then muttered, "So much."
"I'm glad that you are facing all this and working through it." I paused and added, "It really is a shame that the Professor isn't coming with though."
"He suggested that I talk to Nightcrawler while I'm gone. I think that's not a bad idea. Kurt seems like one who anyone can confide in. I don't like too many people knowing my business though."
"You know…you can always talk to me, too."
"I know, Bobby. And I'm sure that I will. It's just that the Professor said that for something like this, confiding in a third party can be really helpful. You know, someone who is not so emotionally attached to me."
I nodded and said, with a smile, "My therapist used to say that same thing."
We continued to walk through the forest, holding hands. I had complete faith that Jean-Paul would be well in the end. I suspected this process would not be easy and that we'd have some thorny moments, but I thought that in the end, it would be better for him and for me.
At least that was what I hoped.
***************
Well, Jean-Paul had changed his mind about the mission but as Hank told me, a day or two later, that Panda hadn't. She was dead-set on remaining on An'zhina with the baby.
"I never imagined that events would play out in such a difficult and painful manner," Hank muttered to me.
This was hard to watch. I was thrilled that Jean-Paul (and Jeanne-Marie) would be on the mission, while my best friend was soon going to have to leave his wife and newborn—for several months. My stomach literally hurt as I looked at the pain on Hank's face.
I put an arm around him. (Or, at least I tried to. He's so big my arm doesn't quite make it around his shoulders.) "I wish there was something I could do to help."
"When I reminded her this morning that I still believe I must take part in this mission, she cried. She then flew into a fit of rage." Hank recounted this argument calmly and without strong emotion in his voice, though I knew how he felt. "She accused me of not caring about the baby and of not loving her."
"Oh Hank. I'm sure deep down she knows you love her."
"I dearly hope so, Bobby. She seems so distant now. Panda is normally a very calm and logical person."
"Well….she did just have a baby. I mean, a major life change like that can kinda change someone, you know. I thought I read something about some women going through periods of depression after giving birth."
Hank nodded. "Yes, I recall reading of postpartum depression during my readings about pregnancy and childbirth as well."
"And add to that the fact that neither of you are getting much sleep---with a crying four-day-old baby in the room. I'm sure you're both on edge. So it's a normal thing," I continued. "And then there's also the fact that you're leaving to go on a potentially dangerous mission….well, no wonder she's angry and freaking!"
After that last lovely bit of wisdom, I got the distinct impression that my words weren't doing Hank much good. I truly didn't know what to say. There was silence for several seconds.
"Have you considered maybe staying behind with her and Rob?" I asked.
Hank nodded. "I have given that idea additional consideration. However, for all the reasons we spoke of Bobby, I feel strongly that I must fulfil my duty and partake in this mission."
"Have you tried to convince her to change her mind? Bring herself and Rob on the mission?"
"I have, indeed, attempted. But she is holding quite firm to her position." He paused. "I do not wish to push her. If she believes that it is in the baby's best interest to remain here…then I do not want to argue. I must accept that this separation shall occur."
"I'm sorry, Hank. I'm so sorry. It must break your heart to think about being away from them." I'd never seen him looking like he did then.
"Panda's anger and sadness break my heart even more," he said, his voice just above a whisper.
*****************
During one long afternoon, Storm remembered back to her first day on board the Vengeance.
Moments after she and Moonstar had been beamed aboard, they found themselves standing inside one of the ship's conference rooms. Psylocke and Marrow stood on the other side of the rectangular table, and the two other crewmembers, Roula and Thyme, were present as well. It seemed strange to be standing around a table with chairs, but that's what the six were doing. Storm had been on board this ship before, and she knew that it rather closely resembled Freedom. At least on the surface.
Psylocke folded her hands over her chest. "Welcome aboard, Moonstar and Storm," she began. Storm remembered standing facing Betsy, thinking that the former X-man clearly enjoyed being in charge. Meanwhile, Marrow stood by, grinning and eyeing Dani as a child might look at a piece of candy. Storm remembered her stomach churning. "There are some rules that must be set," Psylocke continued.
Storm remembered seeing the glint in Betsy's eyes, knowing how much Betsy would like laying down the law.
"First of all, Marrow and I are in charge on board this ship. We make all the decisions about where this ship is going and what we're going to do. You two, along with Thyme and Roula, are to be considered part of our crew and are to follow our orders. No one on the crew makes decisions about the course of the ship or the activities of the Pirates."
Marrow stepped in. "It's not so bad. We don't go around bossing people around. Right, guys?" she asked, turning towards Thyme and Roula.
The two women agreed with Marrow. "It's no big deal," Roula, the one who appeared to be of Middle Eastern decent, said. She spoke with an accent. "We can do what we want day by day, and we help with the killing and torturing when we get an FOH ship." Thyme nodded her agreement with Roula's words. Storm had watched their interplay and remembered making the determination that it seemed sincere; Roula and Thyme seemed honest about their ability to move throughout the ship. They had also seemed nonchalant about the torturing and killing of FOH men.
"Second rule," Psylocke had said. "Per our agreement with the X-men, the two of you are not to interfere with any of the Pirates' activities. As stated in our agreement, you are here for the ride and to accompany us. We might eventually assign you to tasks around the ship, but you're not here to be our servants. You are along for the ride but in no way are you to stop us from carrying out our mission. You can take part in our…retribution activities against FOH if you wish. But if you try to impede us from anything, you will be punished."
"What is the nature of the punishment?" Storm had asked.
"Undecided. It will depend on the nature of the offense. We'll probably start with confinement to quarters and progress from there, if we have to. But don't go getting your hopes up. Neither of you is leaving this ship for 12 months---so any punishment you receive will **not** involve being given a shuttle and forced to disembark. And don't forget that I'm a telepath and telekinetic. I'll know if either of you are planning anything. And to prevent you, all I have to do is think it. Same with confining you to your rooms.
Psylocke allowed a brief pause for the words to sink in, and then spoke again. "Continuing on, you two are free to roam about the ship as you want and use the facilities. The bridge and engineering, though, are off-limits to everyone except Marrow and I.
"We've installed food replicators in your rooms," she continued. "You're free to order whatever you want to eat, whenever you want it. We don't have set meal times. The replicators in your quarters are the only ones you may order from, and they are programmed to supply you with food only. If you need anything else, you either get it from the supply room – it's stocked with toiletries and that sort of stuff---or you ask Marrow or I for it.
"One other reminder," Betsy continued. "If you try to escape, remember our agreement. You must face the consequences. If you escape---or even try to--- as I do with FOH ships, I will do with the X-men's ship. I'll track down Freedom, use my powers to immobilize the X-men, and I have no qualms about blowing their ship to pieces. If you love Wolverine and the others and don't want to see them blown to bits, you'll abide by our agreement.
"Do not worry," Storm said. "We will abide by our word and the terms of the agreement." She hated this, but knew she had no choice now.
"Good. Are there any questions?" Psylocke asked.
"I have one," Storm had said. "What are our rights and responsibilities as members of the crew?"
Psylocke had looked at Marrow. Marrow had shrugged. "We have not laid those out," Psylocke answered.
There was silence for a bit. Dani had then spoke. "What do you usually do all day? If you don't mind me asking. Like, you know, on Freedom the X-men work out a lot or hang in the rec room, or we tend to play with the kids. What about you guys?"
Psylocke and Marrow again looked at each other. Neither said anything.
"We have a holodeck," Marrow finally managed.
`It's going to be a long year,' Storm had thought. And so far, as she reflected back on this day a few weeks later, she had been right.
**************
When Beast and Panda's son was eight days old, Cyclops and Jean gently approached Beast to discuss the mission to earth. Hank knew the reason for their visit when he saw them approach. It was time to head out on this mission and by now everyone knew that Panda intended to stay on An'zhina.
"I can only imagine how difficult this is for you," Cyclops said softly.
"So Panda's not any more open to changing her mind?" Jean asked, in a tone that mirrored her husband's.
"No. She is quite firm in that she wishes to remain here---with the baby." Hank spoke calmly, his voice not betraying the pained and bitter arguments that had ensued between him and Panda.
Scott looked down, swallowed, and looked back up again. "You know, Hank, no one would fault you for deciding to stay here with them. I mean….well, Jean and I would feel a bit more comfortable if there was a doctor on board, but we could ---- "
"No. No, Cyclops, thank you very much for your concern but I am confident that I wish to take part in this mission. For the past several weeks, I have analyzed and re-analyzed my decision. I am an X-man and I am compelled to be a part of this mission. Thousands of mutants are suffering and dying at the hands of the Friends Of Humanity. I want to do whatever I can to stop this, and if it means separating from my wife and son for a duration of time, then so be it. " Hank paused and smiled. "I suspect that the purpose for your visit now is to inquire as to when I would like to leave. I know that you, and most of the other X-men, are eager to begin our quest towards earth."
"Well, we don't want to pressure you…" Jean began, allowing her voice to trail off.
"We want you to take your time," Scott said. "Don't feel rushed. We know how important forming the bond with Rob is." He couldn't even imagine having to separate from one of his own children when the child was a mere eight days old. He marveled at Hank's devotion to duty.
The eloquent Hank McCoy struggled for an answer. He did not wish to reveal that each day became a form of mental agony for him. Each day he looked at the adorable baby, each argument he had with Panda, and each time he saw her cry tore at his heart. It also made him all the more eager to leave. He had to do it and do it soon---each day made sticking to his principles that much more tormenting. Each day allowed the temptation of remaining to creep that much closer. "I am prepared to set out at any time. In fact, I am willing to leave tomorrow, if the rest of the team is ready. For good measure, I have already recorded several audio tapes of my voice for my son, so that he will have a means to come to know me during these first crucial weeks and months."
Cyclops looked at Beast, a bit taken aback at the barely-concealed eagerness. Hank, apparently, shared their desire to get away from An'zhina. "Are you serious? You mean you could leave tomorrow?"
"Quite serious. Would you like me to talk to the rest of the X-men and inquire as to when they could be ready to begin the mission?"
"We have been kinda doing that informally," Jean said. "Most of the gang is pretty much ready to go whenever."
"That is agreeable to me too. Do we have the complete roster listing which X-men will be taking part in this mission?"
"Yes," Jean answered. She listed the names from the top of her head, counting on her fingers. "The three of us. Wolverine, Rogue, Gambit, Nightcrawler, Bobby, Northstar, Aurora, Shaman, Jubilee, Cannonball. Who am I missing?"
"Wraith," Scott supplied for her.
"Oh, yes, Wraith. So a total of 14 X-men. Plus three kids."
"Is Mark not coming with?" Hank asked. Given the events of the past several weeks, he had not had a chance to keep up with these matters.
"No," Cyclops answered. "It was discussed. He offered to come with, if we wanted him. I discussed it with Rogue and Wolverine. We agreed the risk bringing Mark with didn't outweigh the benefits of having him around. It's not like he can take over a bridge duty shift for someone, for example, since he's not allowed on the bridge." It had been difficult, Scott thought to himself, to get Wolverine into a conference room to talk. The recluse tended to hang around the forested area and was rarely spotted at group meals—or anywhere else. Rumor had it that he even slept outside. Wolverine had also taken his time in replying to the message Cyclops had left on his communicator.
"Are any other citizens of An'zhina planning to accompany us? Perhaps some wish to return to earth?" Hank asked. In previous missions, there had been a handful of rescuees who, agonized at being separated from their loved ones on earth, wanted to return to their home planet.
"No. None this time."
Hank nodded. He chatted with Jean and Scott for a while longer, and he reiterated that he was willing to depart with the team "at the earliest convenience of the rest of the X-men."
************
We didn't have a going-away party. I remember talking with Hank the day before we left. We talked about feeling sad and depressed at the conditions on earth. We spoke about how easy it had been for us to get comfortable on An'zhina and spend our days enjoying the garden and the beach---while we kinda forgot about the suffering of mutants at home. I remember packing my bags and boarding that starship eager to make a difference. Don't get me wrong---I **was** sad to be leaving An'zhina at the same time. We were trading our little slice of paradise for the coldness and uncertainty of space. But it was time ---past time---to get our butts in gear and get back to fixing things on earth. For some reason, it seemed like we'd been on An'zhina for a while this time but Hank said that he did the math and it came to "merely two months, three weeks, and five days."
I asked him, but he said he didn't want to talk about leaving Panda and Rob. It's not really like Hank to clam up, but I didn't blame him for not wanting to talk about it anymore. I just told him that I'd be there for him if he ever wanted to talk, and he thanked me. I was lucky compared to Hank. The one I was in love with was coming with.
One sorta cool thing happened the day before we left. A handful of people had formed a photography club, and they were taking pictures for the newsletter.
Well, let me backtrack a bit. The first issue of the newsletter for An'zhina had been in the works for **months**. Those who were working on it, though, said now that they wanted to get it completed before we X-men left on the mission. (And, yes, there **were** a few grumblings along the lines of wishes that we had more mutants willing to join the X-men and fewer who wanted to join the Photography Club or the Newsletter Team.)
Anyway, Jean-Paul and I were enjoying one of our last days at the beach. The people from the Photography Club were on the beach, apparently asking people if they wanted their picture taken for possible inclusion in the newsletter. Soon, they came up to Jean-Paul and I.
"We'd love to have your picture," one of them said, speaking in the deferential tone that many An'zhinians reserved for us X-men. (Sometimes I wondered if it might go to some of our heads.) "You X-men are so brave to be going on the mission," another one said, her voice bordering on gushing.
Jean-Paul and I looked at each other. "Sure," he said, after my nod. "We'd like to have our picture taken."
As we got ready to pose, the 'old' Jean-Paul apparently reared his head, when he said, "Remember, for the picture caption, to mention that I am an Olympic medalist and a decorated former member of Alpha Flight. In fact, I will just send you the caption I want you to use." Yes, he came across sounding as arrogant as those words read. Even I wasn't really sure if he was joking or not.
But we got our picture taken and I didn't think much more of it, until the Newsletter Team handed us copies of the newsletter during lunch, the day before we X-men departed. One of the An'zhinians, Sandy, was sitting at a nearby table and nudged me when she saw the picture. "Too bad you guys are gay," she said. "What a loss for us girls!"
I smiled and opened my copy of the newsletter. There it was, the picture of Jean-Paul and I. He's smiling, looking confidently into the camera. I'm gazing adoringly at him. We're in our swim trunks, which were skimpy --- we looked like we might belong in a gay magazine, given the good view of our physiques. Jean-Paul is bigger and more muscular than I, but this picture showed that I was no slouch either.
"It's a good picture of us," I said quietly to Jean-Paul.
"I know," he grinned. "They got the caption right too."
Jubilee walked by. "What, was this your shot for Playgirl?" she teased. Jean-Paul and I laughed.
Sorry for digressing there. But I have fond memories of taking that picture, framing it, and placing it by our bedside on board Freedom. It made me think of the happy times on An'zhina we were leaving behind.
But it also made me remember that for the mutants back on earth, an idyllic day at the beach with their lover was nothing more than a fantasy, thanks to the brutal Friends of Humanity. We were long overdue for a return mission to earth and it was high time that we made a real difference for the mutants.
**************
The X-men departed on Freedom and began their long journey. Their first destination was the uninhabited planet that Storm had learned about during her first week with the Pirates. This planet's supply of dilithium would be used to replenish the X-men's stock so that they no longer had to rely on the Pirates---or anyone else. The X-men estimated a trek of approximately two weeks would be needed to arrive at this planet. Once they acquired the dilithium, they planned a quick trip back in the direction of An'zhina so they could drop off much of the dilithium there. From a strategic standpoint, they needed to stockpile some of the dilithium in case something should happen to either the planet or the supply the X-men would take on Freedom.
The X-men used a conservative approach towards their existing dilithium supply. Not wishing to squander it, they kept most of Freedom "shut down" so as to preserve their stores. The bridge, engineering, personnel quarters, mess hall, gym, rec room, green house, sick bay, and a few conference rooms were the only open rooms. The rest of the ship had been sealed off. As always, they traveled at warp speed and under the protection of the cloaking device, with one X-man stationed on bridge duty at all times.
Early into the journey, Cannonball found himself in the Danger Room. He was facing off against two older and far more experienced X-men, Cyclops and Gambit.
"You did well, Sam," Scott said, when the session was over. He reached for a towel and wiped his brow (carefully avoiding his visor, as always.)
"I dunno, Cyclops. I got my butt kicked by you two!" Sam said. His breathing was just now starting to return to normal. He glanced at Gambit and noticed that the Cajun didn't even seem all that winded. He and Cyclops were, despite their sojourn on An'zhina, in phenomenal shape. Sam had even witnessed them—on separate occasions---training without the use of their powers. Even then, they had fought remarkably well.
"Nah, Cyke be right," Gambit spoke up. "You learnin' good. You got dose good reflexes." The three were heading towards the locker room for a shower. "An' you got a real powerful mutation."
"We're lucky to have you on the team," Cyclops added, affectionately slapping Cannonball on the back. Jean always gently reminded him to dole out praise to the team, and he tried to abide by her advice.
"Thanks! I'm sure glad to be here." As the three walked towards the locker room, they noticed Nightcrawler and Beast enter the Danger Room, apparently for a session of their own.
"Hey, you guys," Sam began, when the three had entered the locker room, "I got a question for y'all. Where does a guy take a lady on a date on this ship?" Sam had been on board Freedom before, of course, but this was the first time he had a girlfriend here. "I mean, there's so much to do on An'zhina. But here, there ain't really anywhere to just hang out or go for fun, other than the rec room." Which was virtually never empty, Sam said to himself silently.
Cyclops smiled at Cannonball's question. The guy seemed to have a good, honest heart, Scott thought. No wonder Wolverine was okay with him dating Jubilee. As far as Scott could tell, the gruff man had accepted it---though it was hard to say for sure, since one rarely saw Wolverine nowadays. "Unfortunately, that's a drawback of life on a mission," he answered, with sympathy in his voice. He didn't quite like it either but he readily accepted it.
"I mean, I know we're here with a serious mission and I ain't trying to sound like a slacker or anythin' like that," Sam qualified.
"I know," Gambit said. "We know," he clarified. "A man's still gotta enjoy himself---'specially durin' dese long days. The problem is, it ain't easy to get any privacy outside of your room here." He had noticed this problem before and was quite glad that Cannonball had decided to bring it up of his own volition. The wheels of his mind started to really turn.
"And sittin' around your room makes a boring date," Sam added. Especially considering how small their quarters here were, he said to himself. He had almost grown accustomed to the spacious rooms on An'zhina.
"True," Scott said, nodding with a resigned smile. He also was having to adjust to the starships's smaller rooms. He and Jean had knocked down the wall to the room next to theirs, thereby making a double-room so that they and their children could have a reasonable amount of space for four people. Still, their space was cramped too, especially as compared to the elbowroom they had on An'zhina.
"What do you and Jean do on a date?" Sam asked Scott, hoping he wasn't breaching protocol by asking. He didn't think so---Scott generally seemed affable and approachable, though not really as open and friendly as he could be. But Sam was a decent judge of emotions and he sensed that Scott liked him.
"Truth be told, Sam," Scott began, with a smile, "when you have two kids, your dating options are a bit limited. We spend most of our free time with the kids---playing with them, reading to them, teaching them. We did participate in some of the….events on An'zhina; we saw the production of Hamlet and we went to a few of the book discussions. But now that we're on this ship, we haven't thought as much about going on a date."
"Dat's neat dat you're teachin' your kids. I bet a holodeck would be a good place to teach dem t'ings," Gambit began. "Hey, Cyke, what do you t'ink of dat idea? Maybe when we get more dilit'ium, we open dat holodeck up?"
Freedom had always had a holodeck but it had never been used by the X-men. Years ago, when they first took control of the ship, the holodeck was among the first things shut down, in order to preserve precious dilithium supplies. Some of its components had been used to make the Danger Room, but that was it.
"I don't know, Gambit. The holodeck is a real dilithium-waster."
"Maybe we can all discuss dis at a meeting," Gambit suggested. He had to bite his tongue to mask his irritation. This was obviously a decision the entire team should make---not just Cyclops. And, to Gambit, it was a no-brainer. But he really tried to be patient with Cyclops. As much as he preferred not to admit it, he felt some admiration for him, given what he went through with Queen Marina to cure Northstar.
"Yeah, once we get to that planet, we should be able to fill up on all the dilithium that we need," Sam added. "I gotta think we'd be able to spare enough to get that holodeck up—even if it's only for a few hours a day."
Cyclops was silent for a moment or two. "Let's see what happens when we get to the planet and get the dilithium. Then we can evaluate where we stand and decide then."
"Sounds good," Sam said, with a smile.
Gambit reminded himself to be patient, though he really missed Storm's leadership.
*************
Later that day, Scott found himself in his room along with his family. It was now bedtime on board Freedom – at least for its younger crewmembers. The two children had been bathed and changed into pajamas. The family now regularly prayed together before the children were tucked in.
"Rory!" Charlotte said. She was asked by her parents to come up with one thing she was grateful for each evening before bed, as part of their prayers. When they had begun this ritual several weeks ago, she had not understood it. But now, after watching her parents do this many times, Charlotte somehow grasped the concept.
Jean smiled. Charlotte frequently named her friend as the thing she was grateful for.
"I'm grateful that we are all together," Jean said, contributing her thought for the day.
"I thank God that we are all healthy," Scott said. One additional thing Scott was glad for, for the children's sake, was that the playset that he and some of the other X-men had built was brought with the team on this mission. It was being housed in the rec room. The group decided that it would better serve its purpose on the ship, since the only children left on An'zhina were either too old (Lily Pearl, Gail, and Joe) or too young (Rob) to use it.
After Charlotte and Christopher had been tucked in and kissed goodnight, Scott and Jean walked back to their side of the now-double room. Their bedtime ritual usually involved them reading together in bed---that is, on the evenings when they didn't make love. Despite the normal fatigue from interacting with their active children every day, they still found the time to make love several times a week.
"She's so advanced," Scott murmured, getting into bed with a note of pride in his voice. "She's so far ahead of where most kids her age are." He was frequently in awe of Charlotte.
"She's quite a special girl," Jean smiled, agreeing. She then added, as she nestled under the covers. "And one other thing I'm grateful for is the fact that she's potty trained!" Charlotte had recently passed this milestone.
"Amen. Now we only have one in diapers."
"I'm also glad that Chris is finally weaned," Jean added.
"I thought that you enjoyed breastfeeding them," Scott said, his voice questioning. He inched closer to Jean so that they were in their usual cuddling position. They always slept in full body contact with each other.
"I do. I did. I mean, it was quite a….an awesome thing, the way to bond with my babies. But you know how tender and sore it made me too." She smiled at the man she loved. "And you have to admit that you missed it too."
"I did," Scott admitted, softly and affectionately patting one of Jean's generous breasts through her clothing. Jean's breasts had often been too sore for much –or any---contact during lovemaking. Even now, Jean was giving them "a rest" and Scott would have to be content to look but not touch.
"Scott, maybe when we pray with the kids, we should also say a few prayers which are wishes—instead of just gratitude prayers."
Scott nodded. "Something on your mind?"
She was silent for a bit. "I just hope we're home soon. I hope we're back to An'zhina soon. I mean, back for a long period of time----not just for the dropping off of the dilithium that we're heading there for."
"Your parents really chewed us out for going on this mission. And they're probably going to do the same again when we see them this time. That's bothering you, isn't it?" he gently asked.
"Yes. And I know they were a little bit right. It **is** probably better for Charlotte and Chris to be on An'zhina. But I don't want to start getting second thoughts. We are completely committed to this mission."
"I hear what you're saying. From one perspective, it is better for Charlotte and Chris to stay on An'zhina, I guess. But guilt isn't going to do us any good, Jean. Charlotte and Chris are **our** kids, and we considered all the options and made the best decision." Scott generally had gotten along well with his in-laws but he had not really appreciated their strongly worded thoughts on what was best for Charlotte and Christopher. He paused, giving himself time to let the brief wave of anger pass. He then said, sincerely, "I also hope we'll be home soon, though. Home for good."
"And I also hope that this mission goes smoothly."
***********
Wolverine was rarely, if ever, found in the rec room. As far as the rest of the X-men could tell, he spent his time in the Danger Room, in his quarters, or on the bridge. He trained more rigorously than any of the other X-men, occupying the Danger Room during most of the hours it was open. He occasionally volunteered to take other people's bridge duty shifts, claiming that a double shift was no strain on him. And he pretty much never ate meals with the group. (He could, however, be spotted in the mess hall far before or after the usual meal times, replicating his meal and taking it to his room.)
The rest of the team knew to give Wolverine space. Those who got up the nerve to ask if he wanted to talk were unsurprised when the response was a curt "no."
"He must be goin' nuts. He's stuck here on a starship—where there's no outdoors and no where to get away from people except your room. And he's without the woman he loves." Jubilee stated these facts gloomily. "I mean, I know it's all a big 'duh' -- but I just dunno what to do about it!"
Jubilee was sitting in the rec room with Cannonball, Rogue, Wraith, and her daughter Aurora.
"Yeah, old Wolverine's been lookin' pretty bad lately," Rogue agreed glumly. She, too, had no idea what to do to cheer him up. She herself felt the loss of Storm acutely.
"That is, when you can even get a glimpse of him," Wraith added. "I go for days at a time without ever seeing him."
"I know you're worried about him, sweetie," Sam said, reaching to hold one of Jubilee's hands. "But I don't know if there's much we can do 'bout it."
"That's just it," Rogue said. "He's a big boy and he's gotta find a way to cope. Maybe gettin' away from all of us **is** his way to cope. Ain't nuthin' we can do to **make** him feel better. He's gotta deal on his own."
Suddenly, the doors to the rec room parted and Wolverine walked in. This was quite a shocking site --- a glimpse of Wolverine somewhere other than the Danger Room.
"Wolly!" Aurora exclaimed, and bounded excitedly towards the Canadian. The child was having trouble saying "Wolvie" and therefore tended to call him "Wolly." The rest of the rec room struggled to suppress their giggles at Wolverine's new appellation. Rogue sank her teeth into her bottom lip in order to keep from falling over with laughter. Little Aurora was oblivious to this; she simply missed her favorite uncle.
"Hey kid," Wolverine said, patting her head affectionately. His voice was slightly more animated than his usual mutter, but not by much.
"Want play! Want play!" Rory demanded, tugging on Logan. "Pleeeeease?"
At first, Wolverine did not appear to be amenable to the idea. However, Rory kept begging. Jubilee saw the way he looked at her daughter and, feeling the slightest twinge of jealousy, knew that Wolverine was a goner and Rory would get her way. The child led him towards the area of the rec room where the playset was housed. She hopped onto one of the swings, and he gently pushed her.
The rest of the inhabitants of the rec room were easily within earshot and they didn't want Wolverine to think that they were all fixated on him. So they quickly found a conversation topic and ran with it. However, they occasionally snuck in a few sideways looks at Wolverine and Rory.
***************
I was in the gym when the loud speaker sounded and told us that we were entering the planet's orbit. Wolverine just said, "Let's go on." He was giving Jubilee and I another karate lesson and he didn't want to stop. So Jubes and I basically shrugged and kept up with our lesson. (Besides, given the mood he'd been in, we kinda had to do what he said. I suppose I don't need to say that Wolverine had been tougher than usual in his lessons and about as gruff as ever. Storm's departure was hard enough on all of us, but watching---and dealing with---Wolverine in this condition didn't help much. I just considered myself lucky that he was still even having karate lessons for us.)
But back to our arrival at the planet. We had known that retrieving the dilithium from this planet wouldn't be a big deal, and we'd been right. Whoever was on the bridge, assisted by a few others I think, pressed a few buttons and beamed it up. When all was said and done, we'd taken as much dilithium as Freedom could store. We had enough to power the ship for literally **years**. Of course, it would depend on how we used the dilithium (things like the cloaking device and warp drive use a lot of it), but if we kept being conservative with our usage, we'd be able to go for years and years.
"Let's hope we never have to make another exchange like we did with the Pirates," I heard something breathe during dinner that day.
Once we beamed up and processed all the dilithium we could store, we set our course for An'zhina. We had to drop off much of our dilithium supply there (it only made sense), and then we would set course for a different planet. This was the planet where we'd been forced to abandon one of our shuttles, and where we had experienced that bizarre encounter with the man who called himself Dagron. We'd taken dilithium from this planet because we were desperate. So we had to head back there to try to learn how much damage we might've caused by leaving our shuttle there---and to see if we could retrieve it
It would be another two weeks back to An'zhina and then, from there, approximately eight days to this planet. (Last time we went to this planet, it took longer to get from it back to An'zhina, but that was because we'd had to travel at a slower speed. This time, with our dilithium coffers filled to the brim, we planned to go at maximum warp.) We set our course, and off we went.
**************
The evening the X-men stocked up on dilithium, Cyclops spoke to the team during dinner. The team continued their practice of eating meals together; the only people who weren't in the mess hall for the evening meal were Cannonball (who had bridge duty) and Wolverine.
"Since we have enough dilithium to last us a long time," Scott began, addressing the group, "what do you think of the idea of turning the holodeck on? We could have it on for three or four hours a day. It does require **a lot** of dilithium, but if we limit our usage, we should be just fine. Maybe we could even have a sign-up sheet for it, in case more than one person wanted to us it at a time."
Cyclops's idea was very, very well-received. The X-men were all eager for a means of entertainment and escape---and it was only two weeks into a potentially long mission. The holodeck opened the next day, for three hours per day. Soon, various X-men had signed it out days ahead of time.
Scott smiled at this small, positive opening to the mission. Without the Professor or Storm, Cyclops was the only leader on this mission. (The Field Commanders---Rogue, Wolverine, and Beast---were all present too, of course. But Scott was clearly considered the one in charge, as opposed to sharing leadership with Storm or Xavier.) Cyclops had craved a win, and this was a step in the right direction.
***************
"So what's the scoop with Marrow and Psylocke? Are they friends or are they just two people who work together and put up with each other?"
Dani Moonstar posed the question to Storm after another flute playing session. As the more skilled player, Moonstar always had something to teach Storm. The two women would play music and compose songs together for several hours each day. They didn't have a lot else to do.
As usual, they were sitting in one of their quarters---this time, Dani's. Dani sat on the bed and Storm on one of the chairs. The personnel quarters on board the Vengeance were twice as big as Freedom's; the Pirates had knocked down walls between rooms in order to achieve double-sized rooms. They certainly had no need for the hundreds of personnel quarters since having a large crew was not in the plans for the Pirates.
"I do wonder about it," Storm said. There also wasn't much else to do but speculate and chat about others on board the ship. "As far as I can tell, though, the two don't interact much. I've hardly seen them together since we….boarded this ship."
"Yeah, but this is such a big ship, it's not like we really run into **anyone** that much." Dani's words were true. With only six people on board, the corridors of the Vengeance were usually deserted. When Dani would walk, say, from her room to the holodeck or to the gym or to Storm's room, she rarely ran into anyone else. It was almost a surprise to enter the gym and see Marrow or Roula or anyone else there. The crew didn't take meals together either, so that eliminated one possible place to run into others.
"My speculation would be that Marrow and Psylocke don't…'hang out' together much. Their personalities don't seem all that compatible." As she spoke, Storm took a moment to silently give thanks. As interminable as her stay on the Vengeance was shaping up to be, at least she had Dani. The two women got along quite well and always had. Their personalities complimented each other and they found much to talk about.
"Yeah, I think you're right."
It was day 24, Storm silently noted. Three hundred-forty one more days to go. Three hundred-forty one. The length of the days proved difficult to endure. Storm found herself going to bed earlier than she had done in the past and sleeping as late as her body allowed her to. When she could, she slept for 9-10 hours. Her body, unfortunately, required only about 6-8 hours, so she often found herself waking up earlier than she wanted and attempting to persuade her body into another hour or two of slumber.
A typical day, then, would begin with Storm knocking on Dani's door, or vice versa. Once both women were finished with their morning bathing and grooming, they met in one of their rooms and ate breakfast together. Dani used to be a fast eater, Storm observed, but life on board the Vengeance had persuaded her to slow down. The two women then leisurely ate together, chewing each and every bite thoroughly and lingering over conversation. They managed to stretch meal times out to over an hour.
Storm greatly missed being able to have a say in the course of the vessel. She and Moonstar were not allowed on board the bridge and had no influence on the plans of the Pirates. It was not in Storm's nature to be a passive crewmember. This, like everything else on board the Vengeance, took some getting used to.
Deprived of access to the bridge or a say in the ship's direction, Storm spent the rest of a typical day doing a small variety of activities. Working out in the gym was a favorite; she usually spent at least 3-4 hours there every day, both practicing her powers and engaging in other, more traditional exercises such as weight lifting and jogging. She was determined that her physical conditioning would improve; when she returned to the X-men, she wanted to return with none of her strength or power diminished. She knew her fighting skills would be somewhat rusty, but she could keep her body in peak condition.
The holodeck was another place that both Storm and Moonstar frequented. They were careful to not use it more than a few hours per day; Storm had concerns with "hol-addiction". Still, the two would often cue up some of the outdoor programs and lose themselves in a lush garden or thick forest. It was never as good as the real thing, just as replicated food was never as tasty as real food. Storm dreamed fondly of her days on An'zhina and on the Paradise planet, and even back on earth.
Storm had brought several books from An'zhina with her. She was plowing through them faster than she wished. She and Moonstar would also print and read some of the books that the computer was able to download. Never before in her life had Storm had so much time to read and to write in her journal.
Storm and Dani would also sometimes pray and meditate---either alone or together. Again, Storm marveled at the uninterrupted time she had to pursue this. It was quite a change from the constantly-changing and hectic life she had led as an X-man back on earth. As with everything, she attempted to search for the positive.
The Vengeance's computers also had some movies downloaded, and Storm and Dani watched them upon occasion. Some of the movies weren't half-bad. Once in a while, one of the crew members actually joined them in watching a film.
Despite these activities, the days dragged. Storm thought of Wolverine---and the rest of the X-men---all the time. She missed Logan's loving embrace, the laughter and playfulness of Rory and Charlotte, the friendship she shared with Wolverine, Gambit, Rogue, Jean and others---and so much more. Storm sometimes wrote letters to Wolverine (and occasionally some of the other X-men) which she knew she'd never be able to send. She would have to be content to compose and leave them in her journal.
As un-enjoyable as Storm's time on board the Vengeance was, she knew that she had nothing on Moonstar.
At least I do not have to submit sexually to one of my shipmates, Storm wrote in her journal. I know that, as the saying goes, hindsight is always 20-20. But I now firmly believe that this exchange was morally wrong. Surely we knew at the time that this "deal" would require Dani to provide sexual favors to Marrow. How in the world could we have allowed this in good conscience? How could we have allowed Dani to sacrifice herself like this, when we claim to be a group that cares about its members?
The only thing that made the deal palatable to Storm was the fact that she herself was accompanying Dani. If the X-men had sent Moonstar to the Pirates alone, Storm could not have accepted that decision at all. At least I am with her, Storm wrote. At least there was someone to share the pain with Dani, even if it meant Storm herself suffered.
Moonstar herself never spoke much about her time with Marrow. Storm gently asked the young woman a few times whether she wished to discuss this. Moonstar hadn't wanted to. Storm wished that Moonstar wasn't choosing to play the stoic. Looking into Dani's eyes, though, Storm knew of the ordeal she was going through.
More than once, Marrow would interrupt the meals that Storm and Moonstar ate together. Usually, Dani would roll her eyes and oblige Marrow by going off to take the meal with her.
"It's a duty," Dani would say. "Like a chore you don't want to do, but you have to. Like going to the dentist." Dani paused and added, with a smile, "And not just for a routine cleaning, but for five root canals."
Storm returned Dani's smile, knowing well that Dani's levity was attempting to mask the pain.
************
Moonstar had brought a journal with her when she joined the crew of the Pirates, but she had not written in it. Every time she picked up the pen to write, she was overwhelmed with melancholy thoughts. No need to record any of this, Dani told herself. So why am I bothering? My life's pretty pathetic right about now.
But it's still better than watching Jubilee and Cannonball together, Dani told herself. Anything is better.
Marrow had left Dani alone during her first day on board the Vengeance. In retrospect, Dani mused that perhaps Marrow had been giving her time to get adjusted. Uncommonly thoughtful of Marrow, Dani remarked to herself.
The second day on board the Vengeance had been a different story. Marrow approached Moonstar early in the day.
"You wanna….spend some time together?" Marrow had asked, though her tone suggested more of a command than a request.
"Sure," Dani replied. She wasn't going to fight it. She knew full well why she'd been brought on board this ship. She was to be Marrow's plaything. Moonstar had silently agreed to this scenario when she had agreed to the exchange the Pirates made with the X-men. She was going to be here for an entire year and there was no use struggling against her fate, Moonstar reasoned to herself.
The two women had walked around the ship, Marrow giving Moonstar a tour (despite the fact that Thyme had given Moonstar and Storm a tour the previous day.)
"Let's go watch a video on the holodeck," Marrow then said, after their somewhat awkward and mostly silent walk around the ship had been completed.
"Sure, that sounds cool," Dani answered, vaguely wondering what Marrow's dating life on earth had been like. She liked the idea of a watching a video, too. At least it would spare them from having to talk.
The video that Marrow had in mind, however, was a pornographic film. It was a typical smut film featuring lots of lesbian sex. Marrow pounced on Dani barely ten minutes into it.
Their sex life, after a few weeks now, was about what Moonstar had expected. She hadn't expected Marrow to be a particularly tender or passionate lover, and she had been right. Marrow wasn't much for foreplay and, again, Dani hadn't been surprised at that either. Marrow was very picky about how and when someone touched her, Dani soon discovered, so Dani mostly laid back and allowed Marrow to take the lead. Marrow had grown a small bone in the vicinity of her pelvis, and she enjoyed penetrating Moonstar with it. That, along with grasping Dani's breasts and fingering Dani's pubic region seemed to be Marrow's favorite activities in bed. She rarely asked Dani to reciprocate in any way.
Moonstar couldn't say that she achieved much physical satisfaction out of their sex, but every now and then she did reach a small orgasm. Dani was gifted with a vivid imagination, and she sometimes pretended that Marrow was the beautiful Jubilee. Moonstar often thought back to the women in her life who she had made love with and wistfully recalled what it had been like.
Though their sex life was unsurprising for Dani, the rest of their relations with each other did surprise Dani. She had expected Marrow to be content with them just having sex and that to be it. Yet Marrow kept hoping for more. She took some of her meals with Dani and initiated time for the two of them to spend together nearly every day. Marrow's conversation skills hadn't improved any and it was always a challenge just to keep a conversation going with her. Still, Moonstar put in a decent effort at it.
A good sense of humor, Dani thought to herself. That's always gotten me through whatever I faced.
Well, that and a good bottle of wine.
***************
The two weeks back to An'zhina seemed to pass quickly. (The holodeck helped, I think. It was usually booked up a few days in advance and no one was allowed to monopolize it, but I was still able to get in maybe once every few days. Jean-Paul, Jeanne-Marie and I used it one day for a program that allowed us to float around like on asteroids through space. It was very cool, very trippy even----though we sure knew that the reality space travel wasn't exactly that exciting. Jean-Paul and I also found a program that simulated the San Francisco Bay area. I was in paradise for those hours we spent walking the streets in my old stomping ground. I knew it was all an illusion though.)
Anyway, where was I? We flew Freedom back towards An'zhina, where we deposited much of our dilithium stock with very little fanfare. I guess we were eager to not get nostalgic for our home but instead continue with the mission and get to the planet where we left our shuttle. On An'zhina, Warren worked the controls from the ground, taking the dilithium we beamed down and ensuring it was placed properly in the underground storehouse that he'd helped set up specifically for this purpose. The whole procedure took just under an hour. During that time, I know that Jean and Scott beamed up their family and spent some time with them, and that Hank beamed Panda and Rob aboard as well so that he could be with them.
I got a glimpse of Rob. He had been growing **fast** and was a large, hardy baby. He had brown eyes and a shock of dark brown hair. I also noticed, interestingly, that he was holding a doll, and that the doll looked familiar -- but different than the ones replicated on An'zhina. Then I remembered: it was one of the dolls that the native people on the Paradise Planet had given Jubilee and Jean for their babies. I smiled at seeing it handed down like that and wondered what the natives would say at "Goluba" having become a parent.
I can only guess how difficult that was for Hank, to have to say farewell to Rob and Panda again (this time, for probably a much longer period of time.) I got a glimpse of Panda. She did not look pleased.
*************
"So, how's it going, Hank?"
The day after we'd set out (again) from An'zhina, I knocked on Hank's door and asked to be let in. That was my lame opening. I then added, "I just wanted to check in on you. You know---see how you're doin' and all." I'd hardly spoken with Hank since his all-too brief reunion with his wife and baby. He did share with me, though, that they ran a few tests on Rob and discovered that he **was**, indeed, a mutant. Whatever the nature of his mutation was, it wasn't obvious and perhaps we might not know till he hit puberty. We still didn't know what Aurora's mutation entailed either.
"I have been better, my friend," Hank said, answering my question. He gestured for me to enter his room. I did so and sat myself on the side chair. He'd turned his head away from me, but I could still see the agonized look on his face.
"You know, there's still time," I began, trying desperately to find a way my friend could feel better. "Maybe you could just take the shuttle back to An'zh----"
Hank put out one hand, as if to stop me. "Bobby, please, I beg of you---cease that manner of talk. I cannot forsake my duty as an X-man. Even if it means forsaking my duty as a father and a husband." I'd never heard Hank sounding quite as he did now. "Even if it means feeling torn in two."
At that last tormented sentence, I got up and hugged him. The poor guy. Did anyone even understand what he was experiencing? I guess I don't need to restate the obvious. He was away from his wife and newborn, his wife not fully understanding why or supporting him in this. And I knew how much he truly loved them both. But Hank has always been a man of duty. Somehow he was going to have to work out the contradictions inside him, and there wasn't much that I could do.
I kept hugging him and murmuring the usual platitudes. We stayed hugging for a long time, until he broke it off. "Thank you for your concern, Bobby. I do not wish to discuss this, however."
I nodded. I couldn't **make** him talk. We took out a deck of cards and ended up playing card games for a few hours. Then I brushed him out completely. We didn't talk much at all, but he hugged me when I left the room. And he still looked all misty.
*************
TO BE CONTINUED
Your feedback is welcomed and appreciated. Please email me your reactions and ideas, to stormkpr@usa.net
Okay, I must say something. I've become obsessed with Marion Zimmer Bradley's novel The Catch Trap. I first read it ten years ago, re-read it last week, and I think it has influenced my work a great deal. Has anyone else read it? If you have, please feel free to email me to chat about the book. If you haven't read it, get thee to a used book store (this masterpiece is out of print!) and check it out.