Chapter 3

Friday, September 6th

3: 14 P. M.

Doc opened his eyes wearily, wincing with the effort. He had such a headache. . . . .

"Glad to see you're awake, Dr. Brown."

Doc's head turned. Standing beside him was a man in a doctor's coat. He was thick and burly – the athletic type any football coach would dream of. But his face held an intelligence that matched his size. "I estimated you'd achieve conscious at around this temporal frame."

What the – I thought only I talked like that. "Who are you?" he asked, sitting up every so slightly.

"Dr. Hank McCoy," the man introduced himself. As things came into clearer focus, his image began to shimmer a little. Doc blinked a few times. "How are you feeling?"

"Confused," Doc confessed. "How do you know my name?"

Hank grinned behind his glasses. "You're something of a hero to me," he revealed. "I've read about your work in great detail. You have some revolutionary ideas, Dr. Brown. Especially regarding the flux capacitor you mentioned in your papers on temporal physics."

The headache was fading away, allowing Doc to understand why Hank's image was out of focus. "Looks like you have a few revolutionary ideas yourself, Dr. McCoy. That illusion machine works quite well."

Hank – or, rather, the illusionary Hank – went white. "Pardon?"

Doc shrugged. "It's my power. I can see the electrical field disguising you. It distorts the image."

Hank started at him, then shrugged too as he reached into his pocket and clicked off something. Doc gave a little yelp as the real Hank McCoy appeared, dressed only in blank trunks and the white coat. "Great Scott! You're – you're the Beast."

"Ah, you saw that news report." The blue "werewolf" smiled faintly, revealing sharp white fangs. "I fear they've put the wrong spin on my objectives. I intended merely to frighten the protesters away so the family would be left in peace."

"Was the victim a friend of yours?" Doc asked politely.

The smile vanished. "No. But I know intimately what killed him. The same thing that's killing you."

Doc felt his hopes rise again. "You know what this disease is, then. Can you help me? The last doctor I saw – right before my unfortunate seizure – refused to treat me. He acted like--" Doc felt a shiver go up his spine. "Like I had AIDS. 'Mutie cancer.'"

"The proper name for the virus is Legacy. It's a mutated version of AIDS that appeared about three months ago. It targets only mutants."

"So my family is safe, at any rate," Doc said in relief. "I have a wife and two children, and a best friend who's like a son to me."

"They should be fine. Even if one of your children should happen to carry the mutant gene, Legacy singles out mutants who have gone active – can use their powers." Hank became quite grim. "That seizure you had was indicative of your body's progression to the next stage of the disease. If J. C. Jones hadn't found you, you probably would have ended up--"

"Dead," Doc finished. "I don't doubt it. When I had the seizure, it felt like I was dying." He glanced around, for the first time taking in his surroundings. "Where am I?"

"Xavier's School for Gifted Children. A school for mutants, those who have the greatest chance of going active. They learn how to control their powers, and get a darn good education in the meantime."

Doc remembered his last impressions before fainting. "Jean works here. How is she? And the girl who rescued me? J. C.?"

"They're both fine. I believe Jean was going to explain things to your family."

"Clara? Marty? Jules? Verne? Jennifer? They're here?" Hank nodded. "How on earth did they find me? The walkie-talkie I was supposed to contact them with was dead."

"They didn't." Hank grinned again. "Their train appeared in our airspace."

Uh-oh. Why in the name of Sir. Issac H. Newton would they choose to show themselves? They know the dangers. That's the whole reason I installed the invisibility device. "If you want to hear the story on the train, Dr. McCoy, it'll have to wait. It's an extremely long story. Suffice it to say, it took me many years and a lot of hard work to build it." A frightening thought occurred to the scientist. "Great Scott, they didn't crash, did they?! Are they all right?"

"Affirmative. A little shook-up but fine."

Doc smiled. "Great. And I'll bet they'll feel even better once I tell them I can finally get some help with this damned disease."

Once again, the smile vanished. "Dr. Brown – I've already done all I can to help you."

"Pardon?"

"Jean and I gave you a serum that will temporarily halt Legacy's destructive rewriting of your DNA – mostly by giving it junk DNA to feed on. Once it wears off, I'm afraid there's nothing else we can do but try another injection."

Doc's own smile withered. "Are you positive?"

"I'm not even sure if another shot would work. The longer Legacy is in your system, the faster it works." Hank's entire furry body slumped. "I've been working like mad on a cure, but it refuses to come. The serum was a lucky break, but I couldn't use it as a jumping-off point. Trust me, I tried."

"How long do I have?"

"The maximum would be three to four years. Considering you were just entering a later stage, I can't guarantee it'll last that long."

Doc nodded slowly, part of him wanting to cry. "Thank you for not hiding the truth from me. And for giving me a little more time." He swung his legs over the side of the table. "I want to see my family. They need to know about this new development."

"Do they know you're--"

Doc shook his head. "No. And I'd like to keep it that way," he said, more harshly than he'd intended. In a softer voice, he added, "You know how my own hometown considers me if you've read up about me. They think I'm a freak – a monster. I don't want my family to think that."

Hank could understand. After Professor Xavier had inadvertently strengthened his own "beast" mutation, he hadn't been able to tell his loved ones either. It was the whole reason he had built the image inducer. "I won't say anything unless I have to."

"Thank you, Dr. McCoy. Or Hank, if I may."

"You most certainly may."

Friday, September 6th

2: 56 P. M.

The group of time trippers all gathered at a lunch table, trying to make sense out of what Jean had told them. Questions raced through their minds. Why didn't he tell us? But that's obvious. He was scared to death. What can he do? Can he hurt us? When did he know? Are the kids mutants as well?

Marty jumped as he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Marie, along with a group of friends. "Didn't mean to startle you," she apologized.

"It's okay. I'm just having a hard time accepting this." He and Jennifer scooted over, letting the gang sit down. "Are you guys all mutants?"

"Tested and true," one nodded, an Asian girl with lots of tight-fitting necklaces and bracelets.

Jennifer shook her head. "It's weird. Whenever we read about mutants, they were always – older."

"We've never met ones–" Marty just stopped himself from saying, "our own age." "You know, who are teenagers."

"Most of us hadn't either, when we first got here," a Midwestern kid agreed. "I was surprised to meet so many others."

Jules and Verne regarded them curiously. "Do you mind if we ask what makes you special?" Verne said, a touch shyly.

The boy sitting beside Marie grinned. "I'm Bobby," he introduced himself, holding out a hand. Clara shook it. "Call me Iceman."

Bobby's hand became tinged with blue, and a thin sheet of frost spread over both his hand and Clara's. Clara broke the grip, rubbing her hand to warm it. Jules and Verne giggled.

"I'm Kitty," a standing brunette said. "My codename's Shadowcat." With that, she walked right through a chair and sat in it. Marty and Jennifer both whistled in amazement.

"Jubilation Lee," the Asian girl said, holding her hand out in front of her. "Better known as Jubilee." Sparks shot up her fingers into her palm. They formed a kind of firework, which exploded with a small pop. Jules applauded, making her blush.

"I'm Jaime," the Midwestern boy nodded, running his hand through his curly brown hair. "I don't think I should demonstrate my power. If I get bumped or sneeze or something, I can clone myself."

"Same here," nodded the chubby-cheeked redhead behind him. "Tracey, codename Siryn. I can scream really loud."

"Like a fire engine?" Verne wondered.

"Louder."

"Like Verne when he doesn't want a bath?" Jules grinned.

"Hey, take that back!"

"Make me! It's true!"

"Boys, no fighting," Clara told them firmly, placing her hands between them before they could start hitting each other. "We're here to see how your father is."

"Will Papa be able to do the same cool stuff?"

Clara, Marty, and Jennifer all frowned at one another. "He should. . . ." Marty said hesitantly. "I wonder what his power is. I've never seen him use it. At least, I don't think I've ever seen him use it. What about you, Clara, you're married to him. Anything out of the ordinary?"

"Nothing that wasn't part of his normal eccentricities, or future technology in my case."

"Jennifer?"

"Nope. I don't know him as well as you anyway."

"Just thought I'd check." He turned back to the group. "How did you guys find out?"

"Mostly when we did something really weird nobody could explain," Tracey said.

"When I walked through my closet door one morning," Kitty elaborated. "I was in a hurry because it was the day of midterms, and I didn't even think about it until after exams."

"I sneezed in the woods, and found five more of me afterwards," Jaime confessed.

Marie studied her gloved hands, looking near tears. "I kissed my old boyfriend – and put him into a coma," she whispered. Then, trying to make it a joke, she added, "I have this nasty habit of sucking the life out of anyone I touch with bare skin."

None of the non-mutants knew how to respond to that. Jennifer finally reached over and gave Marie's hand a gentle squeeze of sympathy. She brightened a little. "It's not as bad as it sounds. As long as I'm covered up, everybody's safe. And I can touch for about a second or two." Her eyes darted briefly up to Bobby with that statement. Bobby smiled back.

"So Doc's power could be almost – anything?" Marty asked.

"Yeah, basically."

"Geez." Marty glanced at his watch. "Maybe we should ask somebody if he's--"

Marty's nostrils suddenly filled with the scent of brimstone. There was a soft "bamf" behind him, then a voice. "Guten tag."

The teen thought he recognized that. Isn't that German for "good day?" Too bad Doc isn't here; he'd know. "Guten tag," he replied, turning around. "Or – Aah!"

Marty started back, along with Jennifer and Clara. Standing behind him was – was – well, it looked something like a demon. It was blue, with bright yellow eyes, pointed ears, and a pointed tail. His teeth were very sharp, and his hands had only two fingers and a thumb each. The Browns, Marty, and Jennifer openly gawked.

The demon smiled apologetically. For a demon, he had a nice smile. "I am sorry," he said politely, with a thick German accent. "I didn't mean to frighten you." With a theatrical bow, he added, "I am Kurt Wagner. In the Munich Circus, I was known as the Incredible Nightcrawler."

Jules and Verne waved their hello. Marty found his voice. "Hi, I'm Marty," he said, hesitantly offering a hand, which Kurt shook. "Sorry for staring, but I just don't know many – blue people."

Kurt grinned, unembarrassed. "I don't know many people with flying trains."

"I take it the news has spread all over the school," Clara sighed. "Emmett's going to be furious with me. I didn't even realized I had backed into the invisibility lever."

"I think Doc'll be too concerned about the damage to the train to really get mad." He cocked his head. "Mr. Wagner, do you know where Doc is? He's an older-looking guy, tall with white hair."

Kurt shook his head. "Sorry. I wasn't around when he was brought in. I was with Ororo."

"Ororo?"

"Me," said the black woman Clara had seen before, joining them. "I'd like to apologize to you for scaring you like that. But we've had problems before with the security at this school. We had to make sure you weren't a threat. Trust me, you scared me just as much when you revealed yourselves."

Clara chuckled a little. "Apology accepted, Miss Ororo–?"

"Munroe. Codenamed Storm."

"How did you fly up to see the train?" Jules asked. "Papa told us people didn't evolve as aerodynamic beings."

Ororo lifted an eyebrow. "Your husband is going to love Hank McCoy," she said. "That's my power. I can control the weather. I simply summoned a wind to lift me up."

"And tell your dad to tell that 'aerodynamic' stuff to Warren – a.k.a. Angel," Kitty added. "He grew wings."

"Cool."

Bobby grinned. "Man, I never thought I'd meet people who didn't seem bothered by the idea of hanging around mutants."

"After what we've seen, you guys look pretty normal," Marty said, Jennifer nodding enthusiastically. "Besides, I know what it's like to be judged." Not exactly as a mutant, but a time traveler's pretty close.

Jennifer suddenly spotted Doc coming in, with a burly man in glasses. "Hey, guys, there he is!"

Everyone looked toward the door. Clara and Marty exchanged a nervous glance. Well, at least he looks all right. But how do we reveal that we know his secret? "Yo! Doc!" Marty yelled.

Doc turned and saw them. Relieved that they were all right, he grinned broadly. "How are you?" he asked, walking up. "And why in the name of Sir Issac H. – Newton. . . ."

The smiled disappeared as he slowed to a stop. Too late, Marty and Clara realized they had been moving back from him – like they were afraid of him. It took Doc only a moment to figure out what must have happened. He stared at them a moment, looking like he was about to cry, then turned and fled.

"Emmett, wait!" Clara yelled, jumping to her feet.

"Doc!" Marty felt like the biggest heel that had ever lived. "Jeez, I didn't – mean to do that. I got to thinking about him being a mutant and – geez."

Ororo put a hand on Clara's shoulder. "Maybe you should give him some space. He obviously didn't expect you to know."

Clara shook her head. "I have to talk to him. I can't have him think I'm afraid of him, or that I hate him."

"We have to talk to him," Marty corrected. "I'm just as bad as you are."

I suspect I'm the worst of the lot.

The non-mutants started a little. "Jean? That you?"

Yeah. I'm with Scott. Marty almost felt her faint smile. The poor guy's so embarrassed, he can't even face you.

A male voice broke in. Listen, I'm really sorry. I should have thought before I acted. It's just that–

Miss Munroe already explained to us. We're sorry for frightening you like that.

Well, if you ever need a favor, I'll be happy to help.

Jean's voice came back. I owe you an apology too. I promised Emmett I wouldn't reveal his secret.

Too late for that now. Do you know where he is?

There was a moment of silence. Upstairs, in the dormitories. I think in Bobby's room – I'm finding it hard to lock in on him.

Marty frowned. Uh, where are the dorms?

You'll have to listen closely, Marty. It can get confusing. Every new student gets lost at least once.

"Nein, Jean. I can take them. I know where the room is," Kurt said kindly.

"Thank you very much, Mr. Wagner," Clara said, eyes grateful. "This means a lot to us."

"I'm glad to do it." He motioned Marty and Clara over. "Jean, can you give me as specific a spot as you can? Danke." Rather abruptly, he pulled the two into his arms.

"Yo, Wagner, you're a nice guy–" Marty began, slightly embarrassed.

"Excuse my manners, but I must hold you close. I'm a teleporter."

"Huh?"

And then, everything went black.

Friday, September 6th

3: 22 P. M.

Doc sat on Bobby's bed, trying hard to keep from losing control of his emotions. They knew. They knew, and they were afraid of him. A tear slid down his cheek. In sympathy to his emotions, the lights dimmed.

Suddenly, he heard something "bamf" into existence outside. "This is the place," a German voice said.

"That was weird," Marty's voice replied, obviously a little shocked. "No offense, but it's not my favorite way to travel."

"It's harder with a passenger," the German voice said.

"I feel rather ill now," Clara's voice admitted.

"Harder on the passenger as well. Your husband should be here, fraulein."

Clara peeked in and saw Doc on the bed. "Emmett? Can I come in?"

"Sure." Doc's shoulders heaved in a sigh. "If you want."

Clara sat on the bed beside him. "Emmett, I'm sorry. It was just the shock speaking."

"Of knowing I'm a mutant?" Doc's voice was bitter. "Jean promised me. She promised me she wouldn't tell!" The lights briefly jumped to full brightness, then dimmed again.

Clara blinked a moment to clear her vision. "Emmett, we made her tell. I insisted on knowing what was wrong with you, and how we could keep from getting sick. I knew you wouldn't want us to be in danger."

Doc sighed again. "You don't have to worry. You and Marty and Jennifer are all humans. And even if Jules and/or Verne carries the gene, it won't affect them unless they go active. That won't happen until puberty."

The former frontierwoman didn't know what to say. "I'm glad" might convince him of her fear. At least back in my native time, problems could usually be dealt with head-on. "I don't want you to be sick."

"Me neither," said Marty, who had slipped in. "You gotta believe us, Doc. We don't hate you. In fact, Jules and Verne seem proud to have a father who's a mutant." Doc gave him an incredulous look. "I'm not lying. Some of the younger mutants showed off their powers to them. They weren't scared at all."

"I can vouch for him," Kurt added, coming into the room like a shadow. Doc jumped a little. "I am Kurt Wagner. In the Munich Circus, I was known as the Incredible Nightcrawler."

"You tell that to everybody you meet?" Marty smiled.

"Ja. I'm proud of my past." He smiled at Doc, yellow eyes seeming to glow in the dim light. "We're very lucky, herr doktor. I was raised by Gypsies who don't care what I look like. Both of us are blessed with families who don't care what we are."

Doc looked from Kurt to Marty to Clara. They all grinned encouragingly. "Really? You don't care that I'm a mutant?" he said, the lights rising again.

"It'll take some getting used to. But then, I think we've both done a lot of that," Clara said, winking at Marty.

Doc laughed and embraced her. "I'm so glad. I was afraid that, if I told you, that I'd lose you." He got up and gave Marty a hug too. "After all I've gone through back home, I never wanted that to happen."

"After all we've gone through, we don't want to lose you either." Marty frowned at the lamps. "What the heck's the – deal. . . ."

He looked at Doc, suddenly wondering. Doc nodded. "It's my power. I can control electricity."

"Control it? How?" Clara asked.

Doc hesitated a moment. "Hank did tell me there was no danger now," he mumbled. He reached out toward a lamp. It glowed brightly for a second. With a slight pull, Doc stole the electricity from it and brought it into his hands. His eyes began to glow as he manipulated it, forming it into a mini-lightning storm.

Marty and Clara watched in amazement. "That's pretty cool."

Doc smiled and blushed. "Thank you." He looked down on it, making it into various shapes. "I don't know how to explain it. I can feel the current, and use it for my own purposes. I can't put it into better words than that."

"When did you know?"

"I first manifested my power on December 6th, 1937 – about two months after my 16th birthday. I was walking with my sister Emily when a bunch of bullies I knew came upon us. I convinced them to leave Emily alone and focus on me. She was reluctant to go at first, but I assured her I'd be all right. She continued on while I let those hoods have their kicks. The day was intensely windy, and we both wanted to get home as soon as possible. One of the bullies – I believe his name was Stephen – sensed this, and parked his car right in my way as soon as they let me go."

Doc took a deep breath. "Suddenly, a gale knocks down a recently installed power line – brand new. Right into Emily's path. She's trapped – can't get around Stephen's bulky car, can't get past the electrical line. Stephen runs to the car and tries to move it, but the engine has frozen. I try to run over and help her, but two other guys grab my arms. They may not like me, but they certainly don't want to be responsible for my death."

He illustrated the next part with his bit of current. "I was staring straight at that power line, terrified my sister was going to be electrocuted. I mentally screamed at the electricity to go back, to not hurt my sister. It does. It pushes back, creating a dead zone my sister can safely sprint across. Once I see that she's safe, I release my hold on the power, and faint dead away." Doc let his sparks go out. "Of course, I didn't realize what I'd done at the time. I understood what I was four months later. My father and I were having an argument, and I got so angry I exploded a few light bulbs and used the electricity to give him a shock. I was horrified by what I had done later, but by then my father had kicked me out of the house."

Clara had a thought. "It was you earlier, wasn't it?" she said. "When all the electrical equipment in the train started to malfunction. It was because you got angry, isn't it?"

Doc nodded. " I can bend the current to my will, but as a result it responds to my emotions too. The lights were low earlier because I was sad."

"Now I know why all the light switches in your house are dimmers," Marty grinned. "So you can use your power without anyone knowing. Can you make any electricity?"

"You mean produce it in my body? No. My body naturally produces more electrical current than normal due to my power, but I can't up the production. I can use it like other current."

Marty suddenly got a suspicious look on his face and leaned in. "Hey, how much electricity can you handle?"

Doc knew what he really wanted to ask. "I don't know. I only know that, if I handle an extremely large amount, I start getting sick. Manipulating a lightning bolt could send me to my bed for about a day."

The suspicion was replaced by guilt. "Sorry. I'm just glad you're okay." He hugged his best friend again.

Clara kissed his cheek. "Want to try that reunion downstairs again?"

"Certainly. But you'll have to lead the way. I'm ashamed to say that I was blind with grief when I found my way up here. I don't know if I could find my way back."

Clara blushed faintly. "Mr. Wagner took us up here too. Would you mind bringing us back down?"

"Not at all," Kurt said graciously. "And you can call me Kurt. I don't mind."

"Thanks Kurt. He's a teleporter," Marty informed Doc. "Why don't you take us down one at a time, though. It'll make it easier on all of us."

Kurt looked grateful. "Danke." He pulled Marty close, then disappeared with a blast of brimstone and a "bamf."

A moment later, he was back again. "The doktor or his fraulein next?"

"I'll go," Doc said. "I have to apologize to the boys." He stepped into Kurt's embrace. There was a moment of icy blackness, then he was downstairs again. Jennifer was hugging Marty while the boys made faces. "Do you do that when your mother and I kiss?"

Jules and Verne nodded, grinning. Doc had to laugh as Kurt vanished one last time.

Hank was with the group now, looking concerned. "Are you all right, Dr. Brown?"

"Yes. It was foolish of me to run away. I'm sorry."

"Some of us have done worse," Ororo assured him. "A good number of our students are runaways."

"Even so, I'm a grown man. I should know that running solves nothing." He picked up Jules and Verne. "So – what do you think about having a mutant for a father?"

"I bet you're really cool," Verne said.

"Heavy, like Marty would say," Jules nodded. Doc smiled.

Another "bamf," and Clara arrived on the scene. "Thank you, Kurt," she said. "I hope we didn't overtax you."

"Not at all," Kurt said. He did seem to be pretty perky. Doc noticed Ororo discreetly making eyes at him. Aha, he thought, trying not to giggle. "I was glad to help."

Doc turned his attention back to Hank. "Hank, I'd like to help you with your search for the cure to Legacy."

"I'd appreciate it very much. But I don't want to delay your return home."

"We're going to be here a while," Jennifer said. "Jean's boyfriend did a number on the train." Doc went pale. "Until Doc can fix it, I think we're pretty much stuck here."

"What's this about the train?"

"They thought that we were going to attack them. We can worry about it tomorrow, Emmett. I don't want you straining yourself, not so soon after your reprieve."

Doc grudgingly consented. "Hank, I'm in my 70s. I don't want to lose any more time with my family. I want to help."

Hank smiled, just a little. "Thank you. I would really enjoy working with you, Dr. Brown. And if no one else objects, you can stay in the mansion while you're fixing your train." Everyone agreed with that.

"Then what are we waiting for? Tell me about the research you've been conducting."