Author: Wyrd Sister
Fandom: X-Men/Babylon 5
Disclaimer: I know you
know, so I keep it brief: I own nothing apart from Chris and the characters I
make up on the way.
Unfortunately I´m not making money with this story. But
presents and cheques (and most of all: reviews) will be gratefully
accepted… grin
The last jump brought Prof. Xavier, Logan, Bronx and me to the B5-universe.
Chris´ Chronicles
Journal of a Dimension Traveller
© 2002-2004
Part 7 – Tremors
Familiar bleeping noises.The smell of recycled air.
Someone moaning in a distance.
I knew where I was even before opening my eyes.
MedLab, Babylon 5.
With a sigh I sat up and blinked.
You have to change your lifestyle. a voice in my mind grinned, Waking up in infirmaries has become more and more of a habit lately.
Absently I touched the bandage on my upper left arm.
No pain, just a numb feeling.
Okay, what happened this time?
"Yip, yip, wyooow…"
Bronx was storming around the corner with sparkling eyes (how can eyes without pupils actually sparkle?), arrived at the infirmary bed and placed his huge paws onto the stretcher.
I reached out and began stroking him behind the ears. A delightful sigh was the reply, followed by a warm tongue licking my other hand. Is this gargoyle a big baby or what?
Grinning I slid from the bed and gave him a big hug.
"Hey pal. Haven´t seen you in ages!"
"Chris! You´re up!"
For an instant I thought Bronx had spoken.
But no, of course not, what a stupid thought.
Turning around I saw Dr. Franklin walking in my direction, folloime?
"Yip, yip, wyooow…"
Bronx was storming around the corner with sparkling eyes (how can eyes without pupils actually sparkle?), arrived at the infirmary bed and placed his huge paws onto the stretcher.
I reached out and began stroking him behind the ears. A delightful sigh was the reply, followed by a warm tongue licking my other hand. Is this gargoyle a big baby or what?
Grinning I slid from the bed and gave him a big hug.
"Hey pal. Haven´t seen you in ages!"
"Chris! You´re up!"
For an instant I thought Bronx had spoken.
But no, of course not, what a stupid thought.
Turning around I saw Dr. Franklin walking in my direction, followed by Garibaldi.
And Ivanova.
AND Sinclair.
Glancing at their faces I realised I was in big trouble.
"Ten! He beat ten of my men up before we could get him under control!"
I
rested my head in my hands and groaned.
"Oh gods, I´m so sorry. I didn´t
intend to take anyone with me, but it was an emergency
situation."
Garibaldi´s face softened a little, but it was still dead
serious. Sinclair nodded in my direction.
"We´d like to hear your side of the
story."
I began with Bester, his offer and the escape from the lab. They
exchanged glances.
"This little...crab!" Ivanova hissed furiously, "I´d like
to..."
The Commander raised his hand and she fell silent.
"He´d caught
Bronx. What happened next?"
This part was still a bit misty.
"I´m not
sure, somehow I opened the portal and was pulled inside. Before it closed again,
Bester did something to my mind, put some sort of block in. I arrived in this
other dimension without any memory of my former life."
"What other
dimension?" Garibaldi asked.
"X-Men." I replied and - seeing the blank faces
around me - I added.
"Earth by the beginning of the 21. century. A new breed
of humans began to appear, individuals gifted with strange and fantastic
abilities simply by virtue of their genetic makeup."
This sounded like a
comic book, but I didn´t really care.
"Some of them believe they should rule,
and that open conflict with the human majority is inevitable. Others – they call
themself "X-Men" – try to prevent this. There was a fight and I had to move us
out of there at once. It was a split-second-decision. Nothing else to
do."
Dr. Franklin continued stirring his coffee.
"Why
here?"
"Excuse me?"
"Why didn´t you take them to your home dimension, or
someplace else? Why bringing them here, where Bester was probably still around,
trying to catch you again?"
I sat back and frowned.
He was
right.
Why the B5-dimension?
Certainly my own appartment would have
provided enough protection for a short period of time.
"I…I don´t know. I
don´t recall making a conscious decision about the destination."
The words of
a weird dialog appeared at the corner of my mind.
[Where to?]
I don´t
care. Somewhere save.
Babylon 5, of all places.
"Anyway..." I
shook my head, "Can I see them now?"
Professor X was sitting on a bench, apparently in meditation. He opened his
eyes when I entered the prison cell.
Garibaldi stepped in behind me and
raised an eyebrow.
I nodded and he growled something and left.
The
professor pointed to the door.
"Telepaths don´t seem to be very popular
here."
I shook my head and reached for the chair standing in a corner of the
tiny room.
"Not really. But Garibaldi is definitely one of the good
guys."
"How are you?"
"Fine, thanks. You?"
He smiled.
"I didn´t try
to fight a dozen security men. What happened to Logan?"
"They put him in a
high security cell on another level. He´s still unconscious, but will be
okay."
"Did you regain full access to your memories?"
"More or less. A few
events are still a little cloudy, but at least I know who I am again."
"And
where you are?"
I grinned.
"Yeah, even that. I take it you already
figured out the parallel-dimension-thing."
"It crossed my mind once or twice.
But I´d be glad if you gave me a quick briefing concerning this…" he raised an
eyebrow and made a gesture that included the room, "… hospitable
locality."
I was just about to give him a summary of the political situation on earth
and the history of the Psi-Corps, as I remembered it from the TV-Series – when
suddenly there was a harsh discussion audible outside in the security
office.
The door to the prison tract opened and Talia Winters stepped in,
steering firmly in the direction of the small cell.
I jumped up, all of a
sudden more aware than ever that the babelfish wasn´t protecting my mind against
telepaths anymore.
Garibaldi followed Talia into the corridor.
"This
is not your decision to make! Commander Sinclair…"
"Commander Sinclair is not
in charge here. This situation will be handled by the Psi-Corps! As the
representative of the Corps on Babylon 5 I should have been informed
immediately."
She reached the cell and her face changed from
"fighting-tigress" into "your-friendly-neighbourhood-telepath". I was still
searching for a hole to hide. No doubt the professor would be able to deal with
her, but what if something slipped out my mind while she was here?
Damn,
damn, damn…
"Professor Xavier? My name is Talia Winters, I´m with
the Psi Corps and will ensure you´re treated well while you´re on the
station."
After a brief glance at her gloved hands the professor extended
his own and – somewhat startled – she shook it.
"It´s a pleasure to meet
you and thank you for your concern. You know Miss Stein?"
She nodded in
my direction without a readable expression. I nodded back, while Xavier
continued.
"I can assure you, Miss Winters, I have been treated well from
the beginning."
Talia´s gaze wandered through the small cell and remained on
Garibaldi´s stony face for an instant, before turning back to Xavier. Even a
non-telepath could "sense" the sceptism in her voice.
"I´m glad to hear that.
However, from now on, the Psi Corps will be responsible for you. You will find
that we take good care of our people."
"'Our people' would be
telepaths?"
"Certainly. If you would accompany me, I´ll tell you why the
Corps was created and explain our motivations."
"I´m afraid the
construction of this station won´t allow me to use my wheelchair. Dr. Franklin
mentioned a special hover chair, though, he wanted to make available for me
while I am on Babylon 5."
Talia thought for a moment, then nodded.
"I
will make sure you´ll get it immediately. Is there anything else you
need?"
"No, thank you. But I would like to see the man who arrived here with
me. His name is Logan."
"Is he a telepath, too?"
"No, but like me he is a
mutant."
"I´ll see what I can do. If you´ll excuse me now, I´ll get in
contact with a few people and will inform you about the outcome as soon as
possible."
"I would appreciate it."
With another brief glance at me
she turned around and marched out, ignoring Garibaldi, who rolled his eyes and
followed her out of the prison tract.
When the door had closed again, I
exhaled and collapsed onto the chair.
"I don´t believe this! How could I
forget her?!"
Xavier leaned back against the wall.
"So Miss Winters is a
collegue of Mr. Bester, the man who sealed your mind before you came to New
York."
"Yes. I didn´t meet her last time. But I had the Babelfish then and
she wouldn´t have been able to read my mind anyway. Shit, I hope she didn´t pick
anything up. I could kick myself for forgetting all about her. She´s only a P5,
far from being as…capable as Bester, but still…"
The professor raised his
hand.
"Don´t worry, she didn´t read your mind. My mental shields were strong
enough to protect both of us."
"Oh. Good. Did she try to spy?"
"I wouldn´t
call it "spying", rather a careful test of my abilities. As you said, her own
mind powers wouldn´t allow her to go deeper than that."
"Nor do the rules of
the Psi-Corps. In this dimension telepaths are forbidden to scan anyone without
their knowledge."
"Yes, that´s an information she transferred during the
conversation. It seems the regulations of this "Corps" are very
strict."
"Depends on which rank you have in the organisation…" I mumbled,
remembering a couple of Bester´s actions in the series.
A hiss indicated
that the outer door had opened again and only an instant later Commander
Sinclair was standing at the open cell door.
"Professor
Xavier."
"Commander Sinclair."
My eyes wandered from one man to the
other.
"You´ve already met."
Sinclair smiled.
"Babylon 5 can be a
strange place at times, but not even here is it considered normal for visitors
from other dimensions to fall from ceilings. After you´d passed out and Mr.
Logan had been…calmed down there was only one person left to answer our
questions."
Xavier shrugged.
"Unfortunately there wasn´t much I could tell
you."
Sinclair produced a small device from his pocket and handed it to
Xavier.
"Dr. Franklin asked me to give you this. It´s the remote control for
the hover chair, which will be brought in a few minutes. Oh, here it
is."
A man in a medical overall stuck his head in and something that
looked like a huge metallic ball hovered into the tiny room.
"Um…Commander?
May I?"
"Of course. We´ll wait outside."
Sinclair and I squeezed through
the small gap the hover chair had left and stood near the door leading outside
while the medical officer helped Xavier into the flying "walking aid".
Only
moments later the professor glided outside. With the chair hovering only inches
over the floor it looked almost like he was using a normal wheelchair. The
elegant turn revealed Xavier´s experience with this sort of
equipment.
Sinclair stepped forward.
"I can see you get along with the
hover chair."
"Yes, thank you for providing it."
"I´m glad I could help.
Talia Winters just left when I came and mentioned you wanted to see Mr.
Logan…"
"Is he awake yet?"
"I´m afraid not. But according to Dr. Franklin
he will be very shortly. If you want to follow me, I´ll take you to
him."
The professor nodded.
"Certainly. Please lead the
way."
There was an uncomfortable thought lurking at the corner of my
mind, but it was gone before I could grasp it, so I shook my head and followed
both into the corridor.
"If everyone on this station healed as quickly as this man, I'd be searching for a new job by now." he remarked with a wink and handed the nurse a tablet with various instruments. She took it and left the room, while he leaned back against the wall, folding his arms and watching Xavier curiously.
"His skeleton is remarkable, I´ve never seen anything like it."
Sinclair raised an eyebrow.
"What do you mean?"
The doctor could hardly control his enthusiasm.
"Every single bone in his body is covered with some sort of metal. I ran a scan, but it doesn´t resemble any metal we have on earth. Maybe the other races have something similar, but of flesh and non-organic material is highly unusual."
"It´s called 'adamantium'." the professor remarked calmly and steered the hover chair to the stretcher.
"An indestructible form of metal, grafted to his skeleton, together with retractable adamantium claws, which are hidden in his forearms."
I noted Xavier´s interested glance at the medical devices around the unconscious Logan and assumed he already knew how to interpret the blinking figures on the panels.
Apparently I was right.
"Everything seems to be in order. Shouldn´t he be awake by now?"
Franklin and Sinclair exchanged glances and the Commander cleared his throat.
"We decided it would be wiser to keep him sedated until we knew more about the situation. Now that we do…doctor?"
Franklin nodded and walked to the side of the stretcher, blocking my view. A quiet hissing noise was audible and the doctor stepped back again, keeping an eye on the monitor above Logan´s head.
The mutant´s nose twitched, his eyelids fluttered open and with one rapid movement he was up – and the claws shot out.
I heard the professor's harsh shout.
"LOGAN!"
Then, all of a sudden, the ground under my feet began to shake.
The tremor only lasted for about 10 seconds, but was strong enough to throw
the small medical items through the air, make even the few heavier pieces of
furniture jump and knock the people over.
When the room wasn´t vibrating
anymore I carefully uncurled and looked up.
"Anybody hurt?"
A growled
curse told me that at least Logan was well and the angry voice of Sinclair, who
rapidly spoke into his communicator to find out what "the hell" had happened did
just as much. Getting up I saw Dr. Franklin climbing over a slanted table,
rubbing his shoulder and immediately checking if anyone needed his skills.
The only person who was hardly affected by the whole incident was the
professor whose hover chair had absorbed most of the station´s movement. He
looked a bit paler than usual, though, clinging to the side supports of the
chair that slowly sank down to its usual level.
"WHERE AM I?! WHAT´S
GOING ON HERE?!"
Before an irritated Wolverine could tear the doctor
into small pieces for trying to help him I quickly stepped between them. The
growling mutant stopped where he was, but didn´t retract his metal
claws.
Suddenly Sinclair was standing next to the door, pointing his PPG in
our direction.
"Step back. NOW."
Dr. Franklin looked hesitantly at the
Commander and then at us. For a moment it seemed he wanted to say something, but
then he closed his mouth and increased the distance between us instead, while
the Commander slowly walked forward, not lowering his weapon.
I was
confused.
"Why are you…?"
But when I half turned to the growling
Wolverine next to me, all strained face and prepared to attack, I realized how
this situation had to look.
"Wait, Commander, please! He won´t harm anyone,
just give him a moment to recover. It was a rather loud "wake-up call", don´t
you think?"
From the other side of the room Xavier hovered silently
nearer, addressing Logan with a calm voice.
"These people are only trying to
help, Logan. There is no need for a fight. We are among friends."
There
was a moment of silence, then I heard the sound of metal being retracted and
exhaled relieved when Sinclair slowly lowered his weapon, still eyeing the
uncommon visitor with suspicion.
"I would appreciate it if you kept those
claws of yours holstered."
Wolverine growled in response, but it didn´t
sound aggressive.
Not too aggressive, that is.
However, Sinclair
seemed to sense the change and put the PPG away.
His communicator bleeped and
the voice of Ivanova asked if everybody was alright. The Commander glanced
around quickly before raising his hand to his mouth, while Franklin picked up
something small and grey from the floor next to his feet.
"Yes,
Lieutenant. Did you find out what happened?"
"It was a space quake, but
we have no idea what triggered it. Hold on a minute…" there was a pause, then
her voice again, "Damage reports are coming in. Minor damages throughout the
whole station, mostly broken furniture, some technical failures. A couple of
injured people, but no deaths, only flesh wounds and broken limbs, as far as
MedLab knows yet. They´re asking for Dr. Franklin. His com device doesn´t seem
to be working."
The doctor raised his hand and we could see the broken
parts of his communicator.
"On my way, Lieutenant!" he said aloud in the
direction of Sinclair´s device and quickly left the room.
The Commander
looked from Logan to the Professor and then to me.
"We´ll have to postpone
our conversation."
Xavier nodded.
"Of course. I hope you won´t get any
more bad news, Commander."
Sinclair returned the nod and walked out.
The door closed behind him.
I watched my two travel companions,
while trying to remember which B5 first season episode had space quakes in it.
The professor rubbed his temples and Logan walked to the door, making sniffing
noises.
"This place smells funny! Where are we?"
I opened my mouth to
explain, then suddenly realized the opportunity of the situation:
No B5
staff around, no Psi Corps, no witnesses whatsoever!
We could just hop
out of here without leaving a trace. The Psi Corps wouldn´t have a reason to
come here (which everyone would be most grateful for, I felt), no more paperwork
for the Commander and Garibaldi, no more messing with this universe´s timeline.
The professor and Logan would be home again – the other mutants wouldn´t have to
worry anymore.
No further trouble for anybody!
But it would have to
happen quickly, while the station´s personnel was still occupied with the
aftermath of this space quake!
So instead of replying, I jumped up and turned
to Xavier.
"Professor, could you explain everything? I´ll be back in a
sec!"
With this I ran past Logan - who still stood in the open doorway
watching people hurrying by - turned in the direction of the bathrooms and sped
away.
It took me longer than I had anticipated, mostly because I didn´t
have a vessel of any kind on me in which I could transport liquid. On my way to
DownBelow and Katar´s bar to get one, I ran into Bronx, who was strolling down
the main shopping promenade. Humans and aliens who anxiously hurried in both
directions avoided the gargoyle, who sniffed at the remains of a collapsed sweet
stand and dug something out of the pile of building material, brown fabric and
coloured bits and pieces of different sizes. The item Bronx was after looked
like a brown stick, almost as long as my arm. I´ve never tasted this Narn
specialty, but Bronx seemed to like it. He pushed it slightly over the ground,
then picked it up with his fang and began chewing. I waited until I spotted an
opening in the stream of people, then quickly made my way over to
him.
"Hey, buddy, long time no see. What have you been up to?"
With a
friendly wail he greeted me - but only briefly, because the stick took his full
attention. I watched him finishing his meal, wondering if I should tell him to
come with me.
But then, a gargoyle can take care of himself - especially
this gargoyle. And if he wanted to leave, he certainly could, as I'd experienced
at several occasions.
So I only patted his back, wished him a good time and
turned around to continue on my way.
When I came back a few minutes later
he was gone. But somehow I was convinced he hadn´t gone far and would be back if
I needed him.
It was almost as if someone had told me this just a moment
ago.
What a strange thought… I mused and walked into the corridor leading
to the room I'd left Xavier and Logan in.
Just when the door slid open a
female voice called my name.
There was a curse on my mind and I hoped it
hadn´t been 'loud' enough to be heard.
For the woman was Talia Winters and
she was walking straight towards me.
The door closed behind us and after introducing Talia to Logan and vice
versa, she turned to Xavier.
"I described your situation to my superiors and
they would like to meet you, Professor. An ambassador of the Corps is already on
the way to Babylon 5 and will be here in about 36 hours."
Before Xavier could
respond Logan´s eyes narrowed.
"Wait a minute! You belong to this
Psi-Club?"
She froze, then gave him a professional smile.
"That would be
'Psi-Corps', Mr. Logan. I don´t know what you´ve heard about the Corps so far,
but there are reasons for the existence of this organisation and the work we do
is important."
I was wondering how she could stick to this opinion,
despite what one of her closest friends had experienced only a short time ago,
being hunted by Bester like a deer... Force of habit, I supposed. Or she was
still in denial. I couldn´t remember the episode in which she changed sides,
became friends with Garibaldi and Ivanova but it had to be later in the series,
in the middle of the war. I remembered something else about her. For some reason
she would betray her friends. Why was that again? Oh right, the sleeper
personality they had implanted in her mind...a few scenes of this very episode
entered my mind and I began feeling sad about her fate. It was tempting to
meddle in the course of events by I trusted on this station about the upcoming
events, but then I'd have to tell this person about the war and why I knew all
these facts – and there was always a chance that this person will make a bad
decision despite their good intentions...
Suddenly I realized that I'd
stopped paying attention to the conversation and gave myself a mental kick in
the butt. Xavier had obviously managed to calm everybody down and was now handed
a code card by Talia, while Logan leaned on the stretcher, looking grumpy.
Not long afterwards Talia left.
Xavier turned the card in his hands,
then gave it to me.
With a surprised whistle I took it.
"Wow. They don´t
hand these out to just anybody. You must have made quite an impression on her,
professor."
"What is it?"
"The key to a guest quarters in the Green
section. Ambassadorial accommodations. Pretty cool, although you won´t need it.
I found everything we need to..."
The door opened with a hiss and one of
Garibaldi´s security men stuck his head in.
"Oh, I´m sorry. I didn´t know
this room was still in use. The Chief told me to prepare it for the arrival of
another..." a quick glance at Logan, "...guest."
With a frown I looked at
the code card in my hand, then to the security guy.
"Er...you can have the
room. We´re off." Smiling I followed the two mutants out the door and into the
corridor.
"You were saying?" Logan growled while we walked (or, in Xavier´s
case "hovered") in the direction of the elevator.
"Looks like this card could
come in handy after all." I replied, eyeing the key thoughtfully. "We need a
quiet place to get you home and the only one I know is a spare room down in
Katar´s bar – and there would hardly be enough space for two people,
so..."
The elevator released two grim looking Drazi and a very relieved
Centauri. We waited until the professor had manoeuvred the chair into the small
cabin.
"Green 4."
"What about Commander Sinclair?"
"I bet he´ll be glad about our
'departure'. No offence, professor, but unlicensed telepaths around this place
always led to investigations by the Psi Corps and that´s not something these
guys here look forward to."
Logan snorted.
"The sooner we get back the
better! I don´t like this place one bit. And thinking of these 'Psi-guys' makes
my skin crawl...but how will you take us back?"
"This will do the
trick."
"Smells like water. Poor quality, too."
"When the portal opens,
just relax. It´s not like you could control the jump anyway."
I dropped the
lid of the bottle and looked up.
"Ready?"
Logan cocked one
eyebrow.
"What kind of magic trick is this?", but fell silent when the
professor raised his hand and smiled at him. It was a somewhat weak smile and I
didn´t like the weariness in it.
But then, it had been a rather thrilling
day, so who could blame him for being tired?
"Okay, gentlemen, here we
go…"
I concentrated and felt the portal building up with a quiet hissing
sound. And then it was hanging right in the middle of the room, a beautiful blue
circle of light, the tunnel that connected dimensions, probably millions of
interesting places and people.
The tunnel that sucks you through time and
space and spits you out in a different world.
Only this time something
was missing:
It was the 'sucking' sensation.
I went around the circle
three times, but the fact remained: Whenever I came close to the opening I felt
only a soft breeze, nothing like the storm that usually greeted me.
Something
was wrong.
But maybe we could still slide?
I raised my arm and stuck
it into the blue opening – it went right through, I could see my hand through
this side of the portal.
"What are ya waiting for?"
I tried again
– same result.
"Um...I don´t know how to break the news to you, but..."
Arm in, arm out.
No change.
"It appears the portal is
broken..."
Part 3
"Did this ever happen before?"
I shook my head.
"No. But I´m pretty new to this dimension sliding business myself, no idea what happened."
"Well, I tell ya what I´ll do, kiddo!" Logan snorted and turned to the door.
"I´m going for a walk. Inform me when you fixed this..." an indifferent wave towards the blue circle, "...portal thing."
The door closed behind him and the professor raised an eyebrow.
"You´d better follow him. He´s in a very bad mood and might cause trouble if anyone crosses him."
"What about you?"
His smile didn´t reach his eyes.
"You heard what Miss Winters said. Her superiors won´t arrive here until the day after tomorrow. It seems we will all be save for the next couple of hours. Things tend to look better after a good night´s sleep."
Hesitatingly I walked to the door, then looked back and saw Xavier rubbing his head again. The weary expression had returned to his face.
"Is there something wrong, professor?"
"Nothing serious, just a headache, Chris."
"Shall I get Dr. Franklin?"
"The good doctor has other problems right now. I suppose the presence of so many alien minds is the reason for my...problem, but I expect a few hours rest will help. In the meantime: Please make sure Logan´s not doing anything....rash."
"Sure thing, professor." I said and hurried outside to look for the runaway.
After living on Babylon 5 for a couple of months the station didn't appear to
be that large anymore.
Except when you´re searching for someone.
Logan had
disappeared while I was talking to Xavier and left me standing in the corridor
feeling rather foolish. Where was I supposed to find him now?
I did want to
find him, but mainly because I´d promised the professor. Even in his bad mood I
didn´t expect Wolverine to tear the station apart. The professor had a point,
though: Logan could become very...impolite when he was angry...
A
little worried I turned right and jogged down the corridor.
There were
only about one million places where he could be.
Bronx was trotting
through the stone garden, leaving huge paw prints in the already ruffled sand
and joined me for a walk in the maze. Just like a dog he ran ahead, sniffed
around, ran back again and tried to get my attention. He even found a stick for
me to throw. It was an iron bar that weighted as much as a small star cruiser.
He left again after he´d made sure I wasn´t doing anything
interesting.
Due to the space quake the casino was rather empty. A
drunk human was peacefully snoring at the bar, head resting on his folded arms,
and a Centauri was swaying through the room with a glass in his hand, apparently
not 100% sober either. His clothes looked extremely familiar.
Since I wasn´t
in the mood to hear stories about the rise and fall of the Centauri empire I
turned around quickly and left before Londo could spot me.
The Red
section had gone back to normal, with the most popular meeting rooms filled with
travellers and business people, discussing shipping conditions and terms of
payment.
It almost appeared as if the space quake had never
happened.
Med Lab´s personnel on the other hand couldn´t complain about
boredom either. The place was buzzing like a bee hive. Nurses were walking
through the rows of hastily erected stretchers, taking care of the patients and
checking the panels above their heads. The infirmary didn´t appear gloomy,
though. Most people had only minor injuries and were chatting with their
families or the staff.
No new security people with fresh claw cuts in sight
– apparently Wolverine was behaving himself.
Wherever the hell he
was.
If this was a movie he´d be seen leaning against a bar counter
with a cigar stump in the mouth, while the bartender refilled his glass with
w...
The solution hit me like a train at full speed.
"He said he was a friend of yours." Katar whispered in my ear and threw
another uncertain glance at the gloomy looking man at his counter who only moved
to lift his glass.
"I had no idea where you were, but...if you´d seen his
eyes...well, let´s just say I believed him! Now could you please get him out of
here? He´s frightening my customers away."
Considering that most of
Katar´s customers lived in places similar to the Shades in Ankh-Morpork that was
rather impressive.
I walked over to the other side of the counter, which
laid in semi darkness and slid onto the barstool next to the grim looking
shadow.
"Hey."
He barely moved his head.
"Any news?"
"About the
portal? No. You´ll have to stay for the night, I´m afraid. The professor´s in
your quarters...we´ll work something out tomorrow."
"Hrrmm."
I took the
code card out of my pocket and flipped it in the direction of his glass. The
crystal brown liquid shivered slightly.
"Can you find your way back?"
He
only glared at me.
"Never mind. Just a question."
I pushed the
uncomfortable barstool back and got up. Logan turned around, spinning the card
between two fingers.
"You think they take American dollars here?"
I
grinned.
"Don´t worry about the bill. Just try not to scare any more
customers with..." I imitated his expression, "...this
'get-closer–and-I´ll-kill-ya'-look, okay?"
He grunted again, lifted his glass
and poured the brown liquid down his throat. Then he stood up and threw Katar
the very same look before catching up with me.
"Maybe I should accompany
you. This is a dangerous neighbourhood."
"I´ll only be walking around the
block looking for Bronx. He loves to roam DownBelow, especially the areas behind
pubs and restaurants. We´ll go for a short evening walk and come back here
later. Behind Katar´s counter is a room where I usually stay, so don´t worry
about me."
He didn´t respond and together we stepped out of the bar.
I
felt the eyes of a dozen people in my back, almost heard the collective sigh of
relief.
We walked down the corridor towards the cargo area in silence.
At a corner Logan took my arm and sniffed the air. With a disgusted grumble
he pointed to another corridor that led to the lifts going to the next
level.
"Let´s go this way."
He sniffed again while pulling me with
him.
"My nose tells me there's trouble brewing down there."
Looking back I
could see nothing unusual, only a few shadows of people crossing the cargo bay
on the way to other parts of the station.
Some of the twitching shadows
looked strange somehow, but then there were enough aliens aboard who could
produce them.
Still, this one over there...
It disappeared
around the corner like the others when Logan led me out of the cargo
bay.
We found Bronx on the way back to the Green section. He hadn´t lost
his iron bar, but this time Logan was with me and he could throw the damn thing
at least over the next two walls of the maze. A few minutes later we arrived at
the quarters the Psi Corps had offered and with the huge gargoyle-dog at my side
it was easy to convince Logan that I didn´t need an escort back to my own
guestroom.
An evening walk on Babylon 5 makes you feel like visiting a car cemetery at
night. The lights are dim or completely down in the poorer parts, where no one
bothers building resting areas with plants and benches the broken equipment
looks like the remains of an attack.
It won´t be repaired in a hurry, because
no one important will ever go there. People (humans and aliens alike) build
small huts from the garbage in which they sleep.
All that´s left to complete
the depressing picture would be rain rattling against the few dirty windows in
the area.
But the black emptiness does a pretty good job
already.
Suddenly the walls start to tremble.
An iron log on the
floor twitches, rolls a few inches into the room, then hits a silver cargo box
with a deep hole in the side.
The mild quake is followed by a violent hit
that makes the log jump. It throws the lid of the broken box which flips over in
midair and drops to the ground.
A shadow falls on the trembling pieces of
equipment.
There are cries in a distance, but the dark figure doesn´t
turn around.
It moves its head to the side like a dog listening to a sound
only he can hear. The material of its helmet shimmers greenish, although most
lights had gone off during the last tremor.
The voice sounds artificial,
an emotionless croak in the dark:
"They MUST leave!"
The first face that came into focus early next morning was Logan´s.
With a
surprised gasp I jumped out of my bunk, hitting my head on the shelf above. One
hand on the bump I rolled out of the danger zone.
"What happened?!"
I'd never seen him that angry before.
"Two guys wearing the same
uniform as this Psi Club woman rang the doorbell this morning asking to see the
professor. When I told them to...get
lost...they..."
"What?!"
"They made me open the
door!"
"But how..." The mental picture formed and it wasn´t
nice.
"Oh..."
"Yes! Tell me about their weaknesses. I want to ram
my claws into this damn smiling face of the little man..."
...smiling
face...little man...oh shit...
I grabbed my pullover and followed the
growling mutant out the spare room into the deserted bar. Only a small part of
my brain registered the cuts in the metal door while racing through it.
Any
lurker could see the broken door and get in to steal something, but the money
was safe and Katar would survive if he missed a few bottles – and who knew what
happened when it was indeed Bester who´d forced entry into the mutants´
quarters.
I don´t know how long it took us to get back to the Green section, but it
must have been a new record.
Bester was a blood hound.
If he sniffed
a scent, there was no one who could stop him.
No one?
I was still hoping
the professor was more powerful than any of the Psi Cop bunch, but how could I
be sure?
'The most powerful telepath on earth.'
Right, that´s what
internet sources tell you – but what if you put him into an environment that had
its own telepaths and people with the education to control them?
Even with
his superhuman abilities Talia´s friend Jason had feared Bester and his men.
Rightly so, as it had turned out.
Finally the door of the guest
quarters came into view.
Two young men in Psi Cop uniforms were just
stepping outside and we stopped in front of them.
While I did my best
catching my breath Logan started to growl.
The Psi Cops exchanged surprised
glances, then looked back at us.
"What the...?"
The young man
hesitated when six steel claws hissed out of the knuckles of their
owner.
I stepped forward. These two guys were still wet behind the ears.
They should at least have a chance to answer our questions.
"Where´s the
professor? What did you do to him?"
"Professor?"
They looked at each
other again, then threw a glance through the open door back into the room.
A
pause indicated telepathic communication with someone inside, then the two young
Cops moved away from the door. A third man in the same uniform stepped
out.
Logan´s growl became angrier and I almost joined in.
The man
nodded in my direction.
"Miss Stein. What a pleasure to see you
again."
I had a brief vision of me taking Bester on one of my trips – to
a dimension where I could introduce him to someone like Hannibal Lecter.
The
doc surely wouldn´t mind having him for lunch.
Literally.
"You
have to find a way to control these violent emotions, my dear. They are
extremely unproductive. I would suggest therapy."
He glanced at Logan and
raised an eyebrow while the two young men behind him paled.
"You better take
your friend, too. His thoughts would be considered offensive at least.
I´m afraid I´ll have to report them to Mr. Garibaldi if you don´t calm down,
sir."
Logan stepped forward and raised an arm before I could react, but I
saw Bester´s face and didn´t wonder why the mutant suddenly stopped, the claws
trembling only inches in front of the man´s nose.
I hadn´t thought about
how to deal with Bester if we were to meet him. And now we were standing here
without a plan.
Great work.
You would think I had learned a thing or two
from my previous encounters with the guy.
But I could curse myself
later.
"Where´s the professor?"
Was it just my imagination or did the
Cop look somehow...discontented?
He kept his eyes on Logan, but from this
angle I could also see that they narrowed.
"I don´t know what you thought
to achieve with this charade, but I´ll find it out soon enough, believe me.
Now..."
He stepped back, waved his men and turned around.
"...you´ll
have to excuse me – I have an appointment with Miss Winters. I might drop by
later to chat about old times."
When the small group walked around the
next corner Logan stirred again. He growled in frustration, pulled the claws
back in and hammered against the wall with his fist. I nudged him lightly and
pointed to the door of the guest apartment which had closed when Bester had left
the space that triggered the opening mechanism.
The room was dark.
Someone was sitting at the table, holding a small object to his face.
What
was going on?
Was the professor hurt?
Why didn´t he say
anything?
"Lights." I croaked and brightness floated through the
room.
The person at the table was indeed Professor Xavier, apparently
unharmed, and the small object a glass, which he examined with great interest.
But something was different. I couldn´t put my finger on it,
though.
He looked up when the lights went on and I couldn´t help
wondering about the surprise in his eyes.
Surprise about the lights being
turned on by a verbal order?
Logan walked closer to
Xavier.
"Professor? Are you alright?"
He halted and sniffed.
Xavier
stopped the examination and put the glass down carefully before he looked at us
and sighed.
"You must mistake me for someone else. The other gentlemen also
did. My name is Henry Grey."
Another look at our blank faces, another
sigh.
"You must know my name! Henry Grey - Duke of Suffolk."
Part 4
Logan looked back at the closed door and sniffed the air again.
"You can drop the act now, Charles. They´re gone."
I let out a sigh of relief. So he was just pretending.
Why, of course he was!
How could I just for a minute believe that Bester got the better of him?
Xavier had lifted the glass again, smiling.
"Did you import this from Venice? I have to admit it´s a fine piece. You must tell me the name of the craftsman who created it."
"That´s not funny, Chuck!"
The man at the table tried to push himself up from the chair, but fell back. His eyes cleared.
"What happened to my legs? Who are you people? Did you abduct me to extort money from my family? Be assured that the Greys have never bargained with enemies of the crown and never will! The king has beheaded many outlaws who didn´t learn this lesson in time!"
His eyes widened when he heard Logan´s growl. The dark-haired mutant put both hands down on the table and stared at the man who looked like the professor. "Duke of Suffolk? Enemies of the crown? King? What king?!"
The other man only glared.
"Why, King Edward VI, of course."
He tried again to get up, but collapsed back into the chair.
"Did you bewitch my body to keep me still? Be warned, my dear sirs, the king does not tolerate treachery nor magic in his country!"
I cocked an eyebrow.
"And who exactly are you calling 'sir' here?"
Logan grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the table.
"What the hell is going on?"
"I don´t know. Was he like this when you left?"
Logan glared at me.
"Do you think I forgot to mention having breakfast with Richard Lionheart over there?!"
We glanced at the man in the hover chair, who made another useless attempt to stand up.
"No, I mean...was he different this morning? Disoriented or something?"
Logan shook his head.
"He was fine until these Psi guys came! I thought you´d dealt with them before! What did they do to him?!"
Remembering Bester´s words I only shrugged helplessly.
"I´m not even sure they´ve got anything to do with our..."
There was a repressed curse from the direction of the table, where Xavier had almost managed to fall off the chair.
"...situation. Anyway, I better go get Dr. Franklin. Maybe he can help."
Logan didn´t release the grip around my arm.
"You don´t expect me to trust anyone on this station with the life of the professor, do you?!"
I waited until he let go.
"No idea if the portal is working today, but do you want to take him home like this?"
With a cry of frustration Xavier threw the glass against the wall and began yelling imprecations against the "dark powers" that held him captive.
"If only we could do magic." Logan murmured, rubbing his forehead, "I know which part of his body I would 'bewitch' to keep him 'still'."
Logan shook his head.
"I would know."
With a serious expression Franklin put the instruments back in his bag.
"I will check my archives, but you might want to consult a telepath..."
His gaze met Logan´s, but the doctor didn´t flinch at the expression on the mutant´s face.
"I know the circumstances look suspicious, but I´ve never heard of a technique to change a person´s personality so thoroughly in such a short time."
"He´s had a headache for some time already." I reminded him. "What if they started sooner than we think?"
Franklin shook his head and leaned against the table next to the now empty hover chair.
"Impossible. For this kind of brain washing the person performing it would have to be in the same room for a long period of time. Days, even weeks, depending on the mental strength of the victim. Bester may be a strong telepath, but since he just arrived on the station you can bury that theory."
I kicked a cushion back on the couch.
"And Talia Winters had more time, but is not strong enough to do it."
The doctor sighed.
"What do you have against Talia anyway? Just because Bester is a poor example for whatever the Psi Corps stands for doesn´t mean she´s the same type. I would suggest you ask her to take a look at your friend. This is a strange case and it could prove helpful to hear more than one opinion. Just a thought. I´ll inform you about the results of my research as soon as possible."
"Thank you, Stephen. See you later."
Logan paced silently to and fro in front of the closed bedroom door, behind which the professor (or rather the "Duke of Suffolk") was snoring peacefully, thanks to an impressive amount of sedatives running through his veins.
I leaned back on the couch and stared at the ceiling.
This slide wasn´t going to become a highlight of my travels.
I could be happy if everyone – myself included - got out of this mess in one piece – physically and mentally.
Who was I trying to fool?
This situation was way out of my league!
I'd brought two people to a dimension they weren´t familiar with and one of them had already snapped. By the look of it the other one was close to follow. "That´s not fair." my own unnerved mind told me.
"The professor has certainly experienced weirder stuff than this – he wouldn´t just "snap". Same goes for Logan. There must be another explanation!" Which brought me back to Bester. What had happened while he was alone with the professor? Had he found Xavier´s mind too powerful?
Maybe the cop hadn´t been able to convince him of his "noble" quest for a better world for telepaths (wasn´t there a familiar ring to the subject?) and dropped some sort of "mind bomb" instead.
But then his reaction didn´t fit.
Logan dropped onto a nearby chair.
"As far as I can see we have two problems."
"Mhm? Only two? I can see a whole army of them..."
"Number one: We need to find out what happened to the professor – and undo it. Number two: We need to get home."
"Which leads to the question if Bester´s got the info we need, how do we get it from him without being mind-shredded halfway down the road and – always assuming we´re on the right track – if there is a way to change it at all."
The mutant waved my objection away.
"We need more information, that´s for sure. But if we´re lucky, Bester´s not the only source we can use. What about those little whelps circling around him?"
I shook my head.
"He wouldn´t share any valid information with them. Not his style."
Wolverine flashed me a wolfish grin.
"Sometimes people pick things up...a careless word here, a thought leaking out there...they might know more than they think...and I know several ways to make people remember..."
If the situation hadn´t been so serious I'd have laughed out loud.
"Yeah, right! As if you would harm those boys – they´re not more than teenagers. Just two inexperienced telepaths on a field trip."
Logan didn´t object.
"There are other sources. Take this woman..."
"Talia Winters?"
"Right. You think she´s got anything to do with this?"
I thought for a moment.
"No, I don´t suppose she has."
"It might be a mistake to rule her out right away. At least she can tell us about her little conversation with Bester..."
Frowning, I checked the time. It was already two o´clock in the afternoon. Our "meeting" with Bester had been hours ago.
"That could be interesting indeed. If we can persuade her to tell us..."
"Leave that to me." came the answering growl. "I can be extremely persuasive!"
A sudden vision flashed through my mind:
Logan standing in front of Talia, glaring and growling at her.
"Tell me everything or else..."
Her cold response.
"What could you possibly do, Mr. Logan?"
A brief pause, then
"I could...""...remove my shirt."
Her raised eyebrow when he´s doing just that, the reply after a few seconds of open admiration of his attractive features.
"All right, what do you want to know?"
"What´s so funny?!"
The picture vanished and I had the decency to blush before regaining control over my facial expression.
"Nothing. Some sort of muscle spasm. Happens from time to time. Where do we start?"
He didn´t look convinced, but came back to the point.
"Fullfilling doctor´s orders. I´ll bring Talia Winters here and keep an eye on her while she examines the professor."
"Okay. What about me?"
"You´ll fix this portal. I don´t want to stay here any longer. If we have to, we´ll take him home and think of something then. Now get to it, okay?"
"But how...?"
"I don´t know! Try different sorts of water. Hell, throw a few bottles of beer into it. Or feed it with some innocent bystanders, if you must! Just fix the damn thing!"
Feeding innocent bystanders? Better not contradict an angry Wolverine.
"Um...right."
The doorbell chirmed, followed by a loud screeching noise.
"Come in."
It slid open and Bronx, all cheerfulness and wagging tail, burst in, followed by a sober looking Jeffrey Sinclair, who took the hand from his right ear just as he was entering the quarters.
"I'd be grateful if you could tell Bronx not to scratch on doors anymore. The designers of this station didn´t construct it for the needs of gargoyles.
They thought their special metal alloy would be strong enough to withstand the usual obstacles of space station routine. You know, like meteors or enemy fire..."
The humour in his eyes softened the sarcastic tone of his voice.
I greeted Sinclair with a smile, then kneeled down in front of the panting gargoyle.
"You heard the Commander, Bronx. No more scratching or digging through walls, understand? We´d all be in a lot of trouble if B5 fell apart because of you..."
Bronx wailed and brushed his muzzle against my face.
"Yeah, missed you, too. Would you be quiet for a moment if I turned the TV on for you?"
Getting to my feet I found both men staring after my blue-ish friend who´d stopped wailing and turned towards the living room area, where he dropped his impressive muscle mass next to the couch facing a black monitor.
Logan watched the Gargoyle scratching himself behind the ear, before looking back as if to remind me to turn on the entertainment machine.
"He...understands you?"
On a verbal order the TV came to life, showing some sort of boxing match between two aliens I couldn´t identify. The volume was off, so they circled each other in perfect silence, while taking a punch every now and then. With a heavy dog sigh Bronx placed his head between his paws, eyes without pupils glued to the silent struggle of the boxers.
"No, I don´t think so. But I bet he knows the word "TV", among others, to which he responds. He´s a dog after all."
"Some dog." the mutant growled and not for the first time today I asked myself what was wrong with him. Comics and movies stated that Wolverine usually kept his cool even in the most dangerous situations and this one – although problematic and certainly scary – could not be compared to what he had already gone through.
Maybe it was because he felt responsible for the professor – what I also had to take into account was that this time he was neither part of a team sharing this kind of responsibility nor alone, only taking care of his own life. He was probably thinking he needed to protect me as well! Then we certainly had to have a talk soon!
Maybe...
"However..." the Commander cleared his throat, "...that´s not the reason for my visit. I heard Professor Xavier has a...medical problem."
"It´s not exactly..."
"Medical problem?!" Logan put his hands down on the table, hard.
"These Psi guys of yours are the ones responsible for his "problem"! Next time I see this Bester-"
He broke off when Sinclair took three quick steps, stopping at the other side of the table. His voice was cold.
"These Psi-Cops, Mr. Logan, do not belong to my staff, nor do I welcome the idea of them staying here. But since the professor has telepathic abilities, like it or not, he falls into their range of influence."
"Did Dr. Franklin find anything?" I asked hopefully. Maybe we didn´t need to consult Talia Winters after all.
Sinclair continued staring at Logan who stared back.
"I´m afraid not."
Both men turned when Bronx let out a howl. The gargoyle had scrambled to his feet and was facing the bedroom, TV and boxing match forgotten.
"What the..."
A curse behind the door indicated that the sedatives had run out.
I sighed and followed the gargoyle who had stopped in front of the closed sleeping room door, sniffing the air with a curious look on his face.
He was the first to enter the room when it slid open. I only realized how big a mistake this was when a terrified scream echoed through the room, coming from the man in the bed on the sight of a horned blue-ish face raising above his head and two huge clawed paws pressing the bedding down to the ground in an attempt to satisfy the creature´s curiousity.
"Bronx!" I cried aghast, "Down! NOW!"
The gargoyle hopped back a little, trying to figure out what was going on.
Logan grabbed my shoulders and firmly steered me out of the way before walking over to Bronx, reaching for a horn and pulling the confused animal out of the room.
It took the man in the bed a few more seconds to catch his breath.
"What- what-"
"A hunting dog." I said quickly, giving him my best innocent smile.
"Special breed. For wild boars. As you can see, they aren´t kept for their looks."
"A demon! This is a demon dog!"
"Well, you know the wild boars I´m talking about-"
"You are right." The calm voice came from the door. I turned and shot Sinclair a "what-the-hell-are-you-doing"-look, which he ignored. Instead, he walked to the other side of the bed with a serious expression.
The man in the bed glared.
"A demon. You breed demons. You sacrifice your soul-"
"Oh, not like you think." the Commander continued in a lighter voice. "They are creatures of the light, bred to fight demons – all kinds of hellish creatures, actually. You must be Henry Grey." Whilst bowing he introduced himself.
"My name is Jeffrey Sinclair."
Far from being convinced about the matter at hand, the other man snorted.
"This creature certainly looks like the devil himself!"
"You have to admit, nobody would take this animal for a fighter for the good side. Therefore we have a great advantage when we run into real demons."
Most surprisingly – at least for me – this argument hit home. The professor settled back in his pillows, colour returning to his face. It looked as if we were getting away with this ridiculous story. Then Xavier´s eyes narrowed and mistrust returned to his face.
"Protestant or catholic?"
Sinclair shrugged.
"Does it matter?"
"It does, my dear sir. At least to members of the aristocracy, to which I trust you belong as well."
My expression must have been priceless, but fortunately Logan´s return took the last bit of attention off me.
He closed the door firmly behind him, ignoring the sudden thump of something heavy banging against it. The following scratching and wailing sounded familiar. Xavier´s face changed to a brighter shade of grey - no pun intended.
Murmuring "Maybe I should..." I slipped past Logan back into the other room. No one seemed to notice.
Bronx´ ears went up instantly and I could hardly push the massive creature away from the door. Finally I grabbed his chin and forced him to look me into the eyes.
"Bronx! Listen to me. Back. Off. Understood?"
He shook his whole body in dismay, then sat on his hindlegs with a pleading expression and raised a paw, almost knocking me off my feet.
"Woof!"
Their quiet voices were audible behind the closed sleeping room door and with a pang of disappointment I realized the guys were able to handle the situation without my help.
Fine then.
I had my hands full anyway.
Couldn´t take care of everything, could I?
So I sat next to Bronx on the floor and began scratching him behind his ears until he laid down on the side, growling with pleasure.
"You are a big baby, aren´t you?" I said softly, letting my hand wander through his horns and up the small scales on the back of his head.
"A huge blue baby with fangs, but still..."
The door opened. With a grim expression Logan stepped out.
"The...Duke wishes to see the...fortress of light."
"Huh?"
Shutting the door with one hand the mutant walked over to us and sank into a chair.
"Apparently this..." a gesture to the general suroundings, "...is some sort of outpost holding up against evil creatures sent by..." My eyes followed the direction of his forefinger.
"Since we´re on a space station it´s not necessarily hell you´re pointing to, you know."
He glared at me and I raised my hands in defense.
"Alright, alright. So he went with the "creatures-from-hell-story", mhm? Was there at least a blond female involved, who kills them with wooden stakes?"
He continued glaring, then got up.
"You´re all crazy! This place is a freaking nut-house and everyone here´s turning into a lunatic!"
"Come on, I was just kidding. I do that a lot when I´m afraid. Actually it helps in preserving my mental health. What´s wrong with you anyway? Shouldn´t you be the one cracking dry jokes about the situation? Really, your seriousness is freaking me out!"
"Maybe I´ll turn back to my cheerful self when we´re home."
I grinned.
"Thank you. That´s so much better!"
He rolled his eyes, but actually seemed more relaxed.
"What about the portal?"
I jumped.
"Oh, damn! I forgot. Sorry."
Racing out of the room I heard a heavy sigh.
"Right. As if this was important in any way."
Part 5
The station was shaking once more when I walked back to the guest quarters, balancing the glass of water until the mild space quake died down. Logan had already moved the furniture out of the way.
"Where´s Bronx?"
"Lost him in DownBelow. Don´t worry. He can take care of himself."
"Whatever. You got what you need?"
"Um...I hope so. Where´s the professor? And Commander Sinclair?"
"Told ya: Visiting the "fortress of light". I wanted to be sure this is working before he gets to see a blue circle taking him to another dimension."
"What made you change your mind about Sinclair?"
"Mhmm...let´s just say I like his smell better on, we´ve got work to do! Everything ready?"
"Yeah. Step back a little, so you won´t be sucked in..."
Only seconds later the beautiful circle of blue light took shape in the middle of the living room.
What makes you think it worked this time?
Of course it didn´t.
Arm in, arm out.
Nothing.
The sucking sensation may have been a little stronger, but for some reason it wasn´t strong enough to take anyone over the border.
After a couple of minutes the circle collapsed, leaving nothing but an image of light behind my eyelids and a knot in my stomach. What if this was never going to work again?
Would I have to stay on B5 for the rest of my life? And what about Logan and the professor? They were both needed back in their own dimension – what if I wasn´t able to find a way back?
A thought on the back of my mind was about to give me a little comfort, but before I could grasp it, Logan had hammered both fists against the wall in frustration.
With a dangerous look he turned around.
"We´ll try this until it works!"
I climbed over a chair and pressed a button. The alarmed face of Commander Sinclair appeared.
"Chris, you and Mr. Logan must come to MedLab 3 immediately!"
"What happened? Is it the professor? Is he hurt?"
"We´re not sure." came the grim reply, "In fact, we´re more concerned about the people he´s holding hostage in the operation room."
"What kind of weapon?"
The trembling nurse couldn´t respond right away."A...a scalpel. It...it was still lying there...from the last operation...he grabbed Louise and..."
"Let me give you something to calm you down, Doris."
With a gesture Garibaldi stopped the doctor.
"Please, doc. I´ll be finished in a minute." He turned back to the nurse.
"What happened then?"
Doris sniffed and wiped fresh tears from her cheeks.
"He held the scalpel against hi-his throat...Louise´s th-throat I mean...and said he wo-would kill her if the...the others didn´t go...into the operation room."
She looked miserably at the chief of security.
"We did what he said."
"You did the right thing." Garibaldi assured her, then stepped out of Franklin´s way who began speaking softly to the sobbing woman. The chief turned to three of his men and listened to their reports.
I wasn´t surprised to see Logan next to Sinclair at a table nearby, studying something on a computer screen. The infirmary was filled with security personnel. Some interviewed nurses and doctors, while others watched the door of the operation room, hands on their PPGs, in case the hostage-taker decided to send another person out – or tried to leave himself. There wasn´t a window like it in many other MedLab rooms.
"If we could get somebody through this ventilation shaft into the storage room here..."
Stepping closer to Sinclair and Logan I saw that the picture on screen was a blueprint of the area. Logan´s finger followed the line that was probably the shaft he was talking about. When he reached the side of the map the picture changed to a close-up of a room with three beds in it. The shaft ended in a side room the size of a closet. A door separated them.
The Commander shook his head.
"Unfortunately the shaft isn´t big enough for a man."
"It could be used to conduct gas in there." murmured Garibaldi, who´d joined the party from behind. The three guys he´d been talking to were just leaving the infirmary.
"With five hostages still in there? I don´t like this, Michael."
"I don't either." came the grim reply. "But it may be the only thing left if the guy flips."
Logan threw the Chief a devastating look, but remained silent.
What was left to say anyway?
Sinclair had taken the man who called himself Henry Grey to the garden, carefully avoiding the "panorama mile" with windows to outer space. All of a sudden, his guest began having trouble following the conversation. He showed signs of a strong headache and seemed increasingly confused about his surroundings. Sinclair decided to take him to MedLab. A young doctor had taken over while Franklin wasn´t there and Sinclair left the professor in his (competent – I don't think this is necessary) hands when C&C called about some unscheduled arrival.
The doctor examining Prof. X/ Henry Grey couldn´t find anything, but he was asked by his patient how the hover-chair worked. He explained the functions, a little confused about the fact that no one had bothered telling the man. Then he went away to get a hypospray.
According to Doris the new patient "drove" his hover-chair back and forth for a moment, then beckoned to another nurse to come over.
She did and [in less than a second – not necessary] found herself in an extremely uncomfortable position with a scalpel pointed at her throat.
"What was the topic of your conversation?" I asked the Commander.
"Excuse me?"
"Before he got the headache – what were you talking about?"
"I don´t think we have time for..."
"Please, Michael – it might be important. I guess..." Sinclair´s eyes narrowed when he tried to remember.
"I guess the conversation started with my asking about his daughter, Jane."
Logan and I exchanged a puzzled look.
"How did you know he´s got a daughter named Jane?"
Sinclair´s glance wandered from the mutant to me.
"Don´t you know anything about Henry Grey?"
"What´s there to know?" I asked. "I´ve never heard the name before."
Logan only shrugged and Garibaldi raised his hands in defense.
"Don´t look at me. If he´d told you he was Leonardo da Vinci or Massimo Alberini I'd know one thing or the other, but members of the British aristocracy of whatever century? Beats me."
"Henry Grey was the father of Lady Jane Grey, the nine days´ queen." Seeing the still blank faces around him the Commander sighed. "Didn´t you have history classes at school? At age 15 she was married to Lord Guilford Dudley as part of a plot to control the English throne after the death of her cousin, the boy king Edward VI. Four days after Edward's death, Lady Jane's supporters proclaimed her to be Queen. It soon became clear, however, that Edward's half-sister Mary Tudor had far greater support, and after a "reign" of nine days Lady Jane Grey relinquished the crown. She and her husband were charged with high treason, and in 1554 they were beheaded."
It took me a few moments to realize my mouth was hanging open and I closed it quickly.
Garibaldi raised an eyebrow.
"So did he know...?"
"No. It seems that in Mr. Grey´s "reality" King Edward is still alive and well – just like his daughter."
"You didn´t tell him...?"
I stopped when I saw Sinclair´s frown.
"Of course not! I can´t imagine anything we talked about was the reason for his...strange behaviour."
Garibaldi turned to the door of the operation room.
"Well, why don´t we find out what triggered him off?"
"After what Doris said it´s probably a bad idea to just walk in." Franklin stated, nodding towards the operation room door.
Garibaldi jumped a little when the doctor appeared so abruptly behind him.
"So...how´s your nurse?"
"Doris is doing well under the circumstances. I gave her something to sleep. What are you planning to do now?"
Garibaldi cleared his throat.
"The security cameras haven´t been installed yet, so we can´t see into the room. There´s a mentally unstable person with a scalpel, holding five people hostage and he told his "messenger" nobody was to come into the room or he´d hurt the nurse badly. I can think of only one thing to get the people out of the in one piece: nerve gas. We´ll conduct it through the ventilation shaft, wait five minutes, then go in and collect our sleeping beauties."
The Commander walked a few steps to the right, deep in thoughts. When he looked up again, it was obvious he didn´t agree with the plan of his security chief.
"The risk is too high. If he´s not the one sitting closest to the storage room someone else will react to the nerve gas first – giving him enough time to panic and kill his victim. There has to be another way, Michael!"
Logan´s eyes were glued to the computer screen.
"What we need..." he said slowly, "...is a distraction. One of the hostages should fake a heart attack or something. Anything that would take his mind off things for a few seconds."
Garibaldi laughed grimly.
"How do you want us to tell the hostages? By shouting it through the air vent?"
The mutant growled.
"Somebody has to go through the shaft and make discreet contact."
"You heard the Commander – there is no way a man could fit into this shaft."
"Then it seems we have to find someone smaller."
Suddenly everyone was staring at me.
That was the moment I realized that – no matter in which dimension I was staying – certain rules didn´t apply anymore: In my own world no one would even consider putting me in charge of anything, but in a fictitious universe people were not automatically excluding the idea.
I felt like the boy in "Last Action Hero" after being made Jack Slater´s partner. He sure as hell knew this wasn´t the place he came from, because things like that just didn´t happen in real life.
They just didn´t.
Period.
The next sound was Garibaldi´s snort.
"No way. I´m not sending a civilian into this...situation."
"It´s far too dangerous." Franklin agreed.
Well, maybe the difference wasn´t as big as I'd thought.
Only Sinclair remained silent.
The Chief grabbed his arm.
"Oh, come on, Jeff, you´re not seriously considering this?! There´s too much, that could go wrong. What if she´s discovered?"
"What do you say, Chris?" asked the Commander solemnly, "Would you take the risk?"
I nodded.
"Yes, I would. What´s the plan?"
Sinclair cut off Garibaldi´s protest.
"It is a reasonable decision, Michael. Now listen: Chris will climb in here...and crawl all the way to the intersection. This turn will bring her to the storage room."
His finger left a print on the map, where the shaft led to my destination. I rubbed my hands.
"What am I supposed to do when I´m there?"
"Nothing!"
My face fell a little.
"Um...okay, I can do that."
"You lay down and wait. No rescue attempt or anything that would raise attention."
"Right."
"In the meantime I´ll talk to your friend. Maybe he´s just disoriented or confused."
"Yeah..." Garibaldi growled, "...´cause confused people take hostages all the time."
He caught his friend´s glance.
"Oh, come on, Jeff, you can´t be serious! Who knows what the guy in there is up to – we must get him out as quickly as possible!"
"I will not risk the lives of the hostages!"
"The only person in immediate danger is Louise and if we act swiftly-"
"No, Michael. If there´s a chance to talk him out of this, I´ll take it."
Garibaldi didn´t look pleased, but shrugged.
"All right. So what happens then?"
"It depends on the situation."
The Commander glanced back at me.
"You'll take a communicator with you, so we can keep in touch. Give us every detail of what´s going on in there and don´t try anything without my approval!"
"O...Okay."
Things started getting exciting. Despite everything Sinclair had said I already pictured myself gliding through the shaft, breaking through the other end at full speed, elegantly disarming the criminal in the other room and saving the hostages.
Mutant muscles flexed and with a loud crack the lid fell and a long, dark shaft came into view.
It was...kinda narrow.
Extremely narrow.
"I will never fit in there."
Logan looked from me to the shaft and back.
"Sure ya will. You just gotta squeeze a bit."
He helped me up and with a last "remember what the Commander said!" from Garibaldi, I tried to turn into a snake and squeezed myself into the dark conduit. After a couple of metres, using hands and feet to get along, the twilight turned into complete darkness. First I thought the tube was becoming even tighter (or my ass fatter), but it was only Logan´s face blocking the last few beams of light.
"You´re all right?"
Automatically I tried to turn my head.
Bad idea.
"Ouch. Dammit. Yeah, I´m fine."
"Good. We´ll go back to the infirmary."
Light came and went. Garibaldi´s voice was next.
"How long do you think it´ll take you?"
I couldn´t even see my own hand right in front of my eyes, let alone the other end of the tunnel.
"No clue. I´ll keep you informed via the communicator."
"Be careful. Good luck."
"Whatever..."
All dreams about "gliding through and elegantly saving the hostages" had vanished while I was crawling along this dark, silent (and extremely dirty) path. Furthermore I was beginning to remember who the "hostage-taker" was we were fighting. Whatever caused Professor Xavier´s personality change, it didn´t make him the enemy – rather a victim, just as the people with him. Maybe we should let Talia scan him after all. Maybe this was some sort of mind illness the Psi Corps knew about and was able to cure. Although she saw the Psi Corps as "father" and "mother", as they´d intended, Talia Winters wasn´t one of the bad guys. It wouldn´t hurt to give her a chance...
Finally there was light at the end of the tunnel – filtered through a fenced lid, like the one in the maintenance room. Very carefully I pushed myself nearer, trying to find out if there was anyone in the room.
From what I could see it was a tiny storage room with many shelves, filled with glass containers, boxes and medical instruments. Apart from that it was empty.
The doorway to my right was open, however, and quiet voices could be heard from the other room. One of the three beds and bits and pieces of medical equipment were visible, but no people.
I crawled back a few metres and raised the communicator to my mouth. As quietly as possible I whispered
"Okay, I´m in position. The storage room is empty, but I can hear them talking in the op."
"Stay put." was Garibaldi´s reply, "The Commander is making contact."
Crawling back to the end of the shaft I tried to listen to the conversation. It sounded like someone was ordering others around. The voices grew stronger when I reached the lid and pressed my ear against it.
"You! Go over there. And don´t move or I will have to prove my point again!" That was the professor´s voice, although he sounded different somehow.
A knocking sound, most certainly from the outside door.
"What do you want?"
"I´m here to talk." Sinclair´s voice, calm as ever.
A harsh laugh.
"I bet you are. And I warn you: I may not be able to walk around, but I still got this pretty lady here in my hands – so don´t try anything funny."
"I won´t. I´ll come in now – alone and unarmed."
A pause, then.
"Okay. Do it. Just keep your hands where I can see them!"
Hearing the familiar hissing sound, I pictured Sinclair slowly stepping through the door...another hiss left friends and staff behind. I could almost see the Commander, letting his eyes wander through the room, taking in the whole scenery, trying to calm doctors and nurses with a quick nod...but no, probably not – he wouldn´t risk that.
Suddenly Sinclair was talking again.
"What are you trying to prove, sir?"
"I´m not trying to prove anything! I want you to answer a few questions!"
"I promise to answer all questions you have. But please, let the people go. They were only trying to help you and-"
"Help me?! I highly doubt that. Who are you anyway? And what kind of uniform is this?"
Sinclair decided to ignore the second question.
"My name is Jeffrey Sinclair, Mr. Grey, the commander of this...facility. Don´t you remember me?"
Another pause, longer this time. Then
"I have never seen you in my life. And who told you my name was "Grey"?"
"You did, not too long ago...but if you´re not – who are you then?"
"Don´t play games with me, Sinclair – you must know exactly who I am. I bet you´re responsible for this, too."
A clang, like metal hitting metal. He´d probably knocked something onto the side rails of his hoverchair.
Sinclair´s voice "moved" a little to the side.
"If you´re talking about your legs, you already couldn´t use them when you arrived here. That´s why we provided you with a special chair-"
"What is this place? A research laboratory of some kind? Is that the reason I´m here? Do you use prisoners as lab rats now?"
Prisoners?
I could imagine the surprised look on Sinclair´s face – it probably resembled the one on my own. What was the professor talking about now? Who was the new person inside his head? A murderer maybe?
"We didn´t use you for anything. Please, sir, if you just told me your name..."
Several seconds went by, without any more sound than distant voices from the other side of the shaft and my own heartbeat.
"My name is Raif Bentley. And none of them will leave this room alive if you don´t do exactly what I want you to!"
Part 6
This time the name rang a bell.
Actually it rang about a dozen bells, which made it difficult to hear other, serious thoughts in my head.
Raif Bentley
Raif Bentley
You know what it feels like to nearly remember something? Sure you do.
I shifted in my hide-away and almost took an eye out trying to scratch my head in the narrow space, but it didn´t help.
Raif Bentley
Raif Bentley
Apparently not British aristocracy (well, as far as I could tell – "The Sun" or its German counterpart "Bild" never made it to my breakfast table, so there was a huge gap in my knowledge of Royal families, affairs of married politicians and the favourite pastime of girls named "Denise", "Sharon" or "Susi" - who obviously didn´t make enough money with their photos to buy themselves more than a very short pair of jeans.) There was, however, a slight chance that Sinclair had heard the name of the new guy before – maybe this was another person of historic interest...
"What´s going on in there?" Garibaldi´s voice was almost inaudible. I held the communicator to my mouth.
"They´re still talking. The professor changed personalities again. He´s now-"
"We know that – the Commanders own com device is on. We hear every word that´s being spoken in there. I want to know if you can see the hostages from where you are."
Shifting again I could see about five more centimetres of the OP-bed, but still nothing else.
"Nope. The doorway is too small."
"This might be the best opportunity to leave the shaft. Can you hide in the storage room somewhere?"
"Don´t worry, I´ll find a spot. Talk to you in a minute."
They had begun talking again outside. Garibaldi was right – this was the best chance to get out. With difficulties I searched my pockets for the small item the Chief had given me while explaining the communicator. It was some sort of miniature welding torch. Since I didn´t have Logan´s strength (or the luxury of making as much noise as I wished) this little device helped me opening the lid on this side of the shaft swiftly and silently.
After cutting through the lower part and along the sides I pushed against the metal. The upper part still in place it swung open like a cat door - not as smooth as that, but incredibly silently.
I glanced over the edge.
A huge grey box was standing about a metre or so under the opening. If I could use it as a platform on my way down I wouldn´t have to climb along the shelves to my right.
Slowly I slid out of the shaft and reached for the box with both hands. Getting my backside to follow was more difficult, but after some pulling and wriggling I finally found myself on top of a grey hill, from where I had a good view on everything in the small storage room.
The bottom shelves were rather packed with items, glass containers and instruments, but the top shelves didn´t seem to be used (it was probably too much trouble to get the B5 equivalent of a fork-lift everytime you needed anything from there. And since space didn´t seem to be a problem in MedLab they´d probably decided to leave them empty until more supplies were needed).
Still, even if I managed to climb up and hide there I wouldn´t be able to see what was going on in the OP. There was no other place that could provide cover, apart from the ventilation shaft I'd come through – and it was almost impossible to take this way in a hurry.
But first things first: I was here to keep my eyes open and report on the situation, so that was what I was going to do.
Lying down next to the door I cursed the fact that I hadn´t brought a mirror. I mean after playing "Police Quest SWAT" several times you should know what to bring to this kind of "quest". Well, I had to work without.
Still keeping my head down I peeked around the doorframe.
"...won´t release any of my hostages until you tell me the truth."
The professor was sitting with his back to me, facing Sinclair and the others. A scared looking nurse leaned against one side of the chair; an arm around her neck kept her in place. The other hand of the bald man was invisible, but most certainly held a scalpel close to her face. The rest of Franklin´s staff looked stressed and concerned, but all around well.
With a stony expression Sinclair was standing in front of the whole group.
"The truth is that you are not helping your situation. If you let these people go I promise we´ll-"
"You don´t seem to understand the gravity of the situation, Commander." the other man remarked, "Let me explain this once more: The people you see here – and especially beautiful Louise – grant that things are going to be done my way. Believe me, sir, this kind of situation isn´t new to me. And my demands are few: I want a helicopter to pick me up in 30 minutes. Have the pilot bring a suitcase containing US $ 500.000 in $ 20 and $ 50 dollar bills – unmarked, of course. I will set Louise free as soon as I´ve reached the Mexican border."
I watched Sinclair´s face, but his expression was unreadable. He must have seen me too, but didn´t show any sign of it. The medical staff exchanged insecure glances, but didn´t comment on their captor´s wishes.
After a moment the Commander nodded slowly.
"I will discuss your demands with my superiors."
"By all means – talk to them." the other man sneered and continued in a threatening voice, "But remember: If you try anything funny, Louise will pay for it! I expect you back here in 15 minutes sharp."
"Garibaldi? What´s happening?"
"You heard everything?"
"Yes. What are you going to do?"
A pause, then Sinclair´s voice.
"Do you know this new personality, this "Raif Bentley"?"
"I´ve heard the name before, but I don´t remember where."
"You´ve got to – we need every bit of information we can get on him – ASAP!"
As if the pressure level wasn´t high enough already...
"I´ll try my best."
"Remember: He said he had experience with this kind of situation. Maybe you´ve seen him on the news."
I doubted it. But then I must have seen something about him on TV – no way I'd have forgotten actually meeting this guy!
Okay. Picture a hostage situation. A couple of people...and in between someone named Raif Bentley, most probably with a gun.
Since I didn´t have any idea what he looked like this task seemed almost impossible. I mean, how many crimes do you see on TV every day?Apart from the usual murder on the news there are hundreds of fictional ones in the evening program as well. Murders, hostage situations, burglaries, trickery...you can pick your favourite crime when watching TV at night. How was I supposed to add face and background story to a name I´d probably only heard once, zapping through?
"Chris? Can you tell us anything?"
Garibaldi´s impatient voice.
"No, I´m afraid not."
"Keep on trying. He seems to think he´s in a lab on Earth. Does this ring a bell?"
"No, but I if I'd never seen a space station before I'd think so, too."
Logan´s growl made the communicator vibrate in my hand.
"From what he said he´s surprised not to be in prison anymore. The question is did he go there for hostage-taking...or murder?"
"Jeff..." it was difficult to understand Garibaldi, he was probably standing too far away from the communicator.
"...do you think he would actually kill Louise?"
"I´m not sure, Michael, but we better assume he would."
Unfortunately I had to agree with him – I felt this personality would do anything to get out of here. He was as dangerous as a trapped wild cat.
Raif Bentley
Raif Bentley
A rather unusual name.
From his way of talking he was an intelligent man who knew exactly what he wanted. In fact he sounded like a person who usually got what they wanted. Unconsciously my mind "used" the professor´s appearance to picture Raif Bentley. He was extremely disappointed about something (well, aren´t hostage-takers always?!). But he had a plan. People tend to pay you attention (among other things) when you capture their loved ones and threaten to kill them. Especially...
Especially when they´re children.
I inhaled sharply.
That´s it! Don´t lose your train of thoughts – it´s going in the right direction!
Children.
Not only a few.
A whole school full of them.
A private school.
And Bentley was...Chief of Security...
Um...since when do schools have security personnel?
Oh wait – an American private school – yes, this was making more sense.
All of a sudden other pieces of the puzzle fell into place.
Kids of rich and powerful people. Bentley tried to blackmail their parents, but something (no, someone) destroyed his plan. A troublemaker, a drop-out...
Grabbing the communicator firmer I robbed back to the maintenance room.
"Commander, you won´t believe this..."
"No, he thinks he´s a criminal. But a criminal I´ve seen on TV, being played by an actor."
"So the guy doesn´t exist?"
"Well no, it was a fictional character."
The men around the table exchanged glances, then Logan turned towards me.
"So what if he thinks he´s Cinderella? This doesn´t help us much."
"Well, I´m sorry he´s not a member of the Manson family!"
"Hey! Stop that." Garibaldi said sharply and Sinclair added,
"We´ve got 10 more minutes left. I need to know everything there is about this man!"
I didn´t know. Things were a lot easier if you could just sit down at you desk and surf the net for information. One click and I'd be at the Internet Movie Database Homepage, another one and I'd have everything I needed to know about this film on screen, ready to print out if necessary.
"What was his name?"
I snapped out of my thoughts.
"What?"
"The name of the kid who rescued the others."
"Um...it was something short, only one sylable. But..."
I shrugged helplessly.
"It´s been a while. I know the name of the actor, but that won´t help you."
Sinclair nodded, looking disappointed.
"We´ve got three more minutes. Chris, I want you to go back to your post. Keep us informed about the situation, but stay out of danger."
"Can I have a mirror or something to watch the room without being seen?"
Garibaldi waved one of his men over to the table, removed a small pocket from the guy´s uniform belt and threw it over to me.
"You´ll see how it works when you open it. Try not to get caught."
"Will do."
I walked to the door, but turned around before leaving the room.
"What are you going to do?"
"Try to buy us some time."
While security personnel took their places on both sides of the door, Sinclair closed his combat suit, prepared to enter the OP again.
Quickly I turned and raced out the door, back to the maintenance room. Only few inhabitants strolled along the corridors of Blue 5 and and humans as well as aliens regarded me with puzzlement when I ran past them. At the next corner I glanced back and saw a person in a dark suit disappearing into a room. Doubting that I'd seen correctly I continued my wild run to the maintenance room. Once there I nodded towards the man Garibaldi had left as guard, climbed into the shaft and wriggled my body mass through to the other side.
Reaching the intersection I heard voices and began crawling slower, to make less noise. There was no sound when I reached the fenced lid and I wondered what I'd missed. Had the Commander left already?
When I glanced through the bars of the closed grill there was a sudden shout, no, more a bark than a shout.
"NOW!"
The lid opened and grabbing hands missed me by only a few inches. I shot backwards – with "shot" being the speed of my imagination rather than the actual startled jump that had my head crashing into the ceiling and hands and feet scrambling to bring more space between me and the attacker.
The hands kept searching for a few more seconds, then a voice with a British accent spoke from farther away.
"Stop that. Go back to the others."
Both hands disappeared and the lid fell back with a metallic clang.
Still trying to keep my heart from jumping out of my body I listened to the voice that grew louder.
"If you are a member of the local police squad I strongly suggest you remove your weapons – all of them – and drop them through the lid."
The light falling through the bars drew a pattern of lines on the right wall of the shaft. Somehow it felt as if these walls were shifting closer together.
"I don´t have any weapons."
A snort.
"Very funny. Well, you might think I´m bluffing, but you´re wrong. Get out of there this instant or Louise will lose a finger!"
Still, his voice was calm and polite, as if he´d just invited me for tea. You could almost miss the sharp undertone it carried. Since my communicator stayed silent I had to make this choice myself.
Not much of a choice, really.
Carefully I pushed myself forward, slid through the cat door and onto the box. Prof. Xavier´s chair was floating in the doorframe, so he could keep an eye on both the front door and the storage room. Louise winced when he held her firmer around the neck. Now that I got a closer look I could see she was a beautiful young woman with brown hair and the usual bright blue nurse uniform.
Seeing her bending backwards around the chair made me think of how sore her back would feel the next day.
If she´s still alive tomorrow.
Climbing down from the box I found the professor staring at me in disbelief.
"Has it become a fashion of today´s youth to roam air vents?" He motioned me aside and threw another glance at the vent.
"Will there be any more...visitors "dropping by"?"
I shook my head.
"Seems they couldn´t find anyone who fits in there."
"You are not by any chance a relative of Oz Paxton, are you?"
Oz Paxton. There was the name I'd been searching for.
I tried to find a witty reply, but the sight of the frightened nurse killed my creativity in an instant.
"No."
"A friend?"
"No."
Xavier´s eyes narrowed.
"But you do know the name." It wasn´t a question. I sighed.
"As a matter of fact, I do. And as far as I remember the situation you ´d created at this school, your plan didn´t include harming anyone, let alone murdering people in your control."
He looked at me for a long time.
"You seem to know a lot about me. Who are you if you don´t mind my asking?"
"Call me Chris." I replied carefully. Every word I'd say from now on would have to be well chosen. This personality was very intelligent, but also standing with his back against the wall (well, not literally, of course.). He might do things he wouldn´t do, had he the time to think them over.
"Actually it´s a coincidence I know about your case."
And already I cursed myself for this line. What was I supposed to say now?
One night I went to the video shop with a friend and we chose "Masterminds" for our entertainment (together with "Freddy´s New Nightmare" and "Rush Hour"
Certainly not. Should I tell him I was a friend´s friend of Oz? (Since I'd already said I wasn´t a direct friend of the guy - bravo, Chris). But it was too far fetched anyway – what would I be doing here, then? (Besides: The fact that Bentley had executed his scheme without killing a single person in the process, not even the security guy at the gate, was my own perception. It was unlikely that the "hero" of the movie would walk around telling people that Bentley´s men had been ordered not to kill the cops storming at them).
So I had to be someone else. A member of the SWAT team, maybe? Even harder to believe, since I didn´t have a weapon on me – and who´s ever heard of a cop going into a situation like this unarmed?
(I have to admit that even with the months of Assassin´s training I hadn´t considered taking a weapon with me. For once I hadn´t expected to be caught – and the other reason is that I had no intention to kill the professor, whatever action the personality in his head was going to take. Why carry a tool you knew you weren´t going to use – and take the chance that it might fall in the hands of someone whom you didn´t want it to have?)
Journalism seemed like the last straw.
"I work for..."
the "MAD magazine", doing a report on psychopaths for the November issue...
"Sniper´s Weekly", collecting information about unsuccessful hostage-takers...
the local school magazine finishing an article about school security and why it´s putting students in mortal danger...
And what the hell would a journalist do in an air vent anyway?
"Well?"
Only one simple question and it told me that it was too late. He wouldn´t believe a single word I'd say. And he´d be right – I was too young to be a SWAT member, too mute to be a negotiator and too damn stupid to be a reporter!
Louise winced once more.
"I´m not a violent man." Bentley said slowly and moved the scalpel closer to her face.
"But if it means I´ll survive this..."
As if he´d spilled paint from a brush a small patch of blood appeared on the woman´s cheek. Louise gave a startled little cry and slumped down in her captor´s arm. Holding up her unconscious body with amazing strength Bentley turned back to me.
"When I use this instrument again, she will die."
Have you ever sat in front of the TV, watching the Hollywood version of a hostage situation, wondering how stupid people reacted and telling yourself if you were there you'd certainly do better. I know I have, but probably won't do it again. Because it's the kind of situation where you feel completely helpless, even if you are not the direct target of the person with the weapon. You think of something to say or do, carefully considering the outcome. Would the criminal even care for what you were going to say? Would he listen to you, would he believe your words? If not, wouldn´t the whole situation become more dangerous for the other hostages and yourself?
It took me only a few seconds to decide. I wasn´t as good a liar as the situation demanded, so I would go with as much truth as I dared.
"I was sent to keep an eye on the situation. To inform people outside about what was going on here. I'm neither a soldier, nor a member of the security personnel." My voice was trembling only little, I hoped he wouldn´t take it for a sign of me lying to him.
Bentley nodded. He touched a pad at the right arm rail of the hover chair to make it move back into the OP-room then motioned me inside as well. The nurse was still pressed to the blank metal of his hover chair like an oversized doll.
Hesitantly I stepped outside. The other hostages looked up, one doctor I´d seen a couple of times before smiled wearily.
"What´s that?" Bentley demanded and pointed to the little instrument at my belt. Slowly I reached down and took it out.
"A welding torch. I used it to cut through the metal of the lid."
He waved his hand, a silent order to give it to him, and reluctantly I handed it over. He already had a scalpel. What could this instrument do that he couldn´t use the other for?
He turned the small instrument in his hand, holding the unconscious nurse with the other. She was still bleeding, but only little. The cut in her cheek wasn´t as deep as it had seemed. It looked like it was already closing.
There was a quiet humming sound when the torch ignited. A stiff blue flame formed at the top and turned into a beam of light when Bentley swung his hand a little to the left.
My eyes followed it until I shook myself mentally and deliberately glanced sideways. Bentley was in power and he knew it. The least I could do after letting myself being captured was to check on my surroundings. Maybe there was something, anything I could use to my advantage...
But the room offered nothing – it was a common op with three stretchers and some mobile tables with medical equipment on them, measuring instruments and the like. No more scalpels or any other kind of tool that could be used as a weapon. The only hypospray lay on the far side, empty.
I turned my head a little more to glance at the hostages. Two men were leaning with their backs against the first stretcher, a woman standing behind it kept her eyes on Louise and the other searched my gaze, probably for a sign of reassurance, that this was part of a plan to get the situation under control. Since I couldn´t offer one, I turned back again and continued watching Bentley, who was still examining the torch.
If he´d switched it off things might have turned out differently. But he was too absorbed in his examination to realize that his hostage's foot had started to twitch.
Seconds later all hell broke loose.
She blinked and the first thing she saw was the blue flame of a welding torch blazing in the air above her. I guess that was too much. The sudden scream made everybody in the room jump, especially Bentley, who was closest to her. It rattled in my ears, went on and on and on – longer than I would have thought possible.
"QUIET!" Bentley roared, but it would have been more convincing if he hadn't clung to her twisting body, trying to force her down again to secure his position. The hover chair rocked, flinging the scalpel to the floor, not far from me.
Suddenly there was a slashing noise as six metal claws went through the door, pushing it open. Logan didn't pay the least attention to the men shouting behind him, but jumped into the room like a cat and ran towards Bentley and his hostage.
There was a moment when I was sure Bentley would kill Louise. The torch moved downwards, just as Logan reached the row of stretchers, but slowed when Bentley's eyes suddenly grew round. The reason was obvious, even without the threatening bark that was followed by even more shouting from outside. In the few moments it took Bentley to realize there was a man with steel claws running towards him, accompanied by a snarling blue dog monster that was just wriggling through the remains of the door, Logan had reached the hover chair, grabbed the screaming nurse and tossed her in my direction. It was all I could manage to catch her before she could crash into the next op bed. She was still fighting, not aware of what was going on so I caught her arms, embraced her tightly around the belly and leaned backwards. My spine made sudden, painful contact with the stretcher behind me, then I was sitting - no, rather 'half-lying' - on the floor, trying to keep my legs from bending i nto a prezel under Louise's back.
>From my position I could still see Logan and Xa...Bentley fighting for the torch. Logan had seized Bentley´s right wrist and forced it upwards, but a sudden blow with the left fist distracted him just long enough for his possessed friend to jerk the hand with the torch free.
I struggled to get Louise´s weight from my legs, but the woman was still in panic. Her elbow hit me twice at the skull – my left hand stopped searching for the scalpel Bentley had lost.
There was a wild roar, but it came neither from Logan, nor Bronx. The welding torch slid through the air, leaving a white bow, before Bentley rammed it deeply into Logan´s chest and pulled the handle down.
My hand found the scalpel and a second later it stuck in Bentley´s right hand, up to the shaft. It was too late, of course. Logan was staggering backwards when Bentley´s roar turned into a painful whelp. At this very moment Bronx approached the hover chair at high speed, a snarling force of nature.
"Bronx! NO!"
Already in mid-air the gargoyle heard me and actually obeyed.
Or rather "tried to".
His mind was willing, but the pure mass of his body pushed him forward. He didn´t collide with the person in the chair as intended, but ran fully into the hovering device and pushed it over.
Then the ground shook again.
The armed guards who filed in through the slit of the damaged door stumbled, but somehow managed to form a circle around everybody in the room, weapons aimed at the unconscious man in the centre.
Two of the hostages, a doctor and a nurse, came over to me and kneeled beside Louise, who finally broke into tears. I was grateful they took care of her. As soon as the worst tremors were over I stood and swayed towards the two crowds that were gathering around both X-Men. It wasn´t difficult to tell them apart: On one side, swarming around like bees were the medical staff, lifting Logan up on the op bed and shouting orders for medical equipment. On the other side everyone in security grey had assembled, pushing the hover chair away and checking on the motionless body on the floor.
I shoved my way through the men and kneeled down next to the professor.
"Careful, kid." one of the guys said.
I ignored him and several weapons aimed at me, and rolled the unconscious man on his back. Apart from the scalpel sticking out his right hand, he didn´t look injured.
Before I could ask for assistance Dr. Franklin had appeared next to me and began ordering the security staff around.
"Help me putting him up here. You: I need this table over there. And Chris: Would you get me the med kit from my desk?"
"Chris. I need a word."
Damn.
With a final glance to the two stretchers I hesitantly walked to the door and passed Commander Sinclair.
Here comes the lecture. I thought angrily, when he ushered me into a quiet corner.
"I know it was my fault he captured me, Commander, but there wasn´t anything else I could do just then. He said he´d hurt her, so-"
Sinclair made a calming gesture.
"Slowly. And from the beginning. Are you alright?"
I blinked, then made a mental check.
"Uh...yes, I am."
"Good. We heard everything, but decided against interfering through the communicator. I felt he would have reacted badly to hearing someone else´s voice at that particular moment."
Remembering the situation I nodded, then asked the question that had been bothering me ever since.
"Where have you been anyway? I thought the plan was to talk to him a little more. It didn´t take me that long to get through the shaft, I was convinced you´d still be in there, discussing the money, or his escape route or whatever."
He smiled dryly.
"I would have preferred that. Instead he ordered me to leave. I believe it had something to do with his headache - maybe he didn´t want me to see that it had worsened. Only a minute or two after I'd come in he threw me out again."
"That didn´t leave him much time to find out about the ventilation shaft. Maybe…" I thought for a moment, "…maybe he remembered Oz coming through the shafts and checked on his surroundings. Maybe it was just the wrong time for me to crawl in. Well, whatever…"
I told him everything that had happened from the moment of my discovery. The part with the scalpel was especially embarrassing, but he didn´t comment on it.
"That was a close call." Was all he said, when I´d finished. He looked around and found Dr. Franklin just entering the operation room through the still sliced door. One side had been removed to allow the medical staff to continue working in there. The engineer who´d been in the storage room left, not without looking nervously over his shoulder. A second later Bronx hopped through the doorframe and joined us in the corner. He brushed his muzzle against my hand until I absently scratched his head. When I looked up again Sinclair´s face was even more solemn than before.
"I want you to get some rest. Your friends are in good hands and from what Dr. Franklin said they´re out of immediate danger." He paused.
"Considering what happened to Logan this is almost a miracle."
"He´s been through worse I´m afraid. Did the doc say when he´s expecting them to wake up?"
"No, but he´ll inform both of us when they do. Will you be able to take them home then?"
My shoulders slumped.
"I´m still working on that. For some reason the portal doesn´t build up properly; there´s no indication to why this happens." Someone in security grey stopped beside me.
"Maybe the batteries are running low."
"Huh? Excuse me?"
Garibaldi handed Sinclair a notepad. From the grim look on both of their faces it was either the damage report or their recent IRS audit. While the Commander studied it, his friend turned to me.
"Energy, kid. You entered this place with two people and a gargoyle in tow. Seems like a whole lot of body mass to transport through time and space."
I shook my head in disbelief.
"It can´t be working like that. I mean…" Although magic, wasn´t totally out of the question, my mind refused to use that word here. Somehow it didn´t belong in this dimension.
"What sort of energy would a blue tunnel of light want anyway? And where would I put it?"
He shrugged.
"That was a conclusion based on very few facts. The rest is up to you."
With a nod Sinclair gave the notepad back. Garibaldi flashed me a grin, turned and walked away.
"I have to get back to C&C. Will you be okay?"
"Sure." I murmured absently, while my eyes wandered back to the stretchers in the next room. Sinclair turned around to leave. "Commander?"
He looked at me with a raised eyebrow.
"Will you get into trouble for this?"
A grin.
"Not more than usual. But next time you bring friends around inform me in advance, okay?" He winked.
"Then I´ll put Susan in charge and take the week off."
Without much surprise he noted that I´d chosen a place where I could see through the bent metal, right towards the scenery around the two stretchers.
"Didn´t the Commander tell you to get some rest?" he asked, not unfriendly.
I shrugged.
"I can rest here. Any news?"
He shook his head.
"We´ll have to wait. But..." he raised a hand when I leaned back against the doorframe, "...you will be leaving now. Go and try to get a little sleep. Or do you want me to give you something?"
I took a step backwards.
"No, that´s okay. I just want to be around, in case anything happens."
"We have the situation under control." The doctor smiled, "Nothing´s going to happen within the next few hours. I´ll inform you about any changes. Now get out of here, will you?"
"Mhm. Okay."
I turned around and walked to the door. Passing the table where Logan and Sinclair had worked on the blueprint of the shaft, I reached out and casually dropped the object lying there into my pocket. If there wasn´t another way I´d have to make one myself...
Franklin cleared his throat when I was just stepping out the door.
"There is something you might want to know. The guy you saw leaving a few minutes ago reinstalled the vent door to the storage room. But just in case someone tries to use a certain instrument to open it again I also locked the inner door. It would take a possible intruder without heavy machinery at least two hours to cut through this one."
He smiled and went back to his work, whistling innocently.
Nothing was going as planned, nothing. This leap was one big catastrophe.
Several aliens and a few security and maintenance people still working in the area stared at me as I stormed by. Silently I got on into the next transport shuttle and watched Bronx following me inside, forcing a couple of people to withdraw with frightened faces. A few minutes later the shuttle spat us out near the intersection to DownBelow. I brushed past a crowd of human monks in long brown cloaks and turned into the next corridor, entering Brown Section.
Bronx was at my heels, whining as if to ask why I was so angry.
The light was dimmer here. That´s nothing unusual when you´re reaching the lower levels. DownBelow is not exactly a high priority area when it comes to exchanging broken light bulbs.
A few hundred metres ahead it became quieter as well.
I didn´t slow down, but my eyes swept the surroundings carefully.
Usually the area near the docks is not busy, but there´s always a ship being unloaded and the cargo transported through these tunnels. Only Bronx´ claws made scratching noises on the metal floor.
I continued my way to the "Dancing Lobster". Every now and then the gargoyle sniffed around, but always followed me after a moment. Suddenly he took over and raced into the next corridor to the right.
"Hey! Bronx! That's not the way to the bar."
There was an impatient bark fading away in the labyrinth of the area. I ignored it and went on. So Bronx had abandoned me as well.
Fine. Whatever. I was certainly not going to run after this stubborn dog.
He would return eventually, he always did.
Was it just my imagination or did the main corridor become even darker than before?
Still, everything stayed quiet.
Unusually quiet.
Even Bronx´ scratching noise had offered some sort of reassurance.
Suddenly a change in the recycled air indicated someone else was in the corridor. I could feel the person in the shadows before me. If there had been other people around this would have been impossible, but your senses sharpen when they don´t have much to concentrate on.
I stopped and calculated how long it would take me to race back to a public area. Turning my head slightly I didn't see or hear anyone behind me. There was a good chance to reach a safe area, but in my current state I preferred to wait. Perhaps it was a robber who needed a good hard kick in the butt. I was just in the right mood to give him that.
The shadow stepped forward into the little light and became a human in a black suit.
A smile went over his all-too-familiar face.
"Good evening, Miss. Please don´t be afraid. I'm only here to talk."
I believed that much. This was a guy who wouldn't try to harm me, at least not until I presented either a thread or offered an unexpected opportunity.
Right now, however, I was not in a diplomatic mood.
"What do you want?"
His smile broadened.
"Actually that was exactly what I intended to ask you. What do you want?"
I brushed past him.
"I don't have time for this!"
He fell into pace beside me.
"This is a serious question. Please consider it, if only for a moment."
Against my will my mind did.
A nice long beach, somewhere where the water is warm and the sun shines on a perfect blue sky, at least two weeks of complete and total loneliness with the biggest problem being the decision of what to eat for dinner, grilled or fried fish...
"Judging from your face you found the answer to my question."
I stopped again and spun around.
"Listen to me very closely: I can't stop you from doing what you are going to do. It might even be a necessary job to set certain events in motion. But don't you dare..." my eyes narrowed as I stared into his dark pupils, "...don't you dare talking to me again! ´cause if you'll do I'll kick your sorry butt out of the nearest airlock."
He raised his brows and opened his mouth, but I was quicker.
"And don't give me that innocent puppy-look. Sure, you're only here to help. Stuff that, okay? I mean, do people seriously fall for that?!"
I turned and walked down the corridor, shaking my head in disbelief. At the next corner I looked back to the 'man in black'. "Besides, I hate fish."
If he felt any emotion, be it confusion, anger or amusement it could not be read in this mask of a face. He only bowed slightly and continued smiling.
I took satisfaction from the thought that I'd already seen his head on a stick and walked on.
At the next intersection Bronx joined me again. He had the satisfied look of a gargoyle dog after a good hunt. I wondered if his prey had been invisible to the human eye, a black, spider-like shadow with long legs...on the other hand he might have just followed the old trail of a food container that had been carried through the labyrinth earlier. I gave him a rough push he probably didn't even feel.
"You're a real help, buddy..."
He missed the sarcasm and jumped forward, barking happily.
The last few hundred metres to the "Dancing Lobster" were crowded with people.
People who kept staring at me until I turned my head to see if some weird creature was on my heels, but there was nothing apart from Bronx, and his appearance neither surprised nor frightened the lurkers anymore.
Kari threw three of her tentacles in the air when I stormed into the bar.
"Chris. What happened to you? Were you in a fight?"
"Huh? No...not exactly. Kari, I need-"
With a sudden move of her tentacles she shoved me away from the glaring customers, through the side entrance and closed the door behind us.
"A shower!" she stated firmly.
I glared at her.
"What? No. Actually I need-"
The mirror next to the shelf was dirty and reflected nothing more than a shadow. Then the lights went on and I saw that the mirror wasn´t dirty at all.
The girl who stared back at me wore dust like a patina all over her body. There were dark smears in her face where she´d touched it with her hands; knees and elbows were black.
"- a shower indeed."
With two boxes full of bottles I swayed through the corridor and reached the quarters in Green section. Fumbling the code card into the slot took a while with both hands full, but finally the door opened. I scanned the room before stepping in, but everything looked normal – or rather like we had left it earlier. Bronx trotted past me into a corner, dropped and closed his eyes with a comfortable sigh.
I set the boxes down next to the couch and rummaged through their content. There were mostly colorless liquids, a few blue and green alien drinks and one bottle of an indefinable substance that was usually ordered by Narn – and humans with a suicidal nature.
The logical approach was to try first what had worked a couple of times already. I opened the water bottle and filled a glass. Then I put the glass on the floor, right in the middle of the room, and concentrated.
Even quicker than before the blue circle opened where I expected it and I could feel hair and face being touched by a soft breeze. My heart pounded when I stretched my hand out and touched the portal. The sucking sensation was stronger than before, but still the hand went right through. I could see my fingers in a blur on the other side.
Two blue, a green and some colorless liquids had the same effect.
I was running out of glasses, so I picked the last one up, filled it with some syrup-like green stuff, mixed it with something that smelled like whiskey – and tossed the whole, ugly content into the blue circle.
For seconds the portal sucked a little harder – I had always felt that "extra pull" myself when leaping through. I leaned to the side and inspected the wall behind the circle. Heavy drops of a greenish substance were running away from a dark stain, shaped like a three-legged elephant. But the elephant wasn´t as big as it should have been. I got back to my feet to take a closer look. Bronx lifted his head from his paws and watched me lazily.
It appeared that some of the liquid had made it through the portal, while the rest smashed to the wall. Hence the "extra pull".
This probably meant that whoever walked into the blue circle left part of his body behind.
Great.
Just what I needed.
Out of frustration I allowed myself the fantasy of using Bester as a guinea-pig. The splash when his internal organs hit the floor, staying behind when he leaped...
With a grim smile I went back to work. Glasses were filled and refilled, liquids mixed and tossed against the wall. The elephant became a giant mammoth. There was no method to my madness and no visible change in the swirling blue. In the corner Bronx rested his head on his paws again and began snoring peacefully.
At some point I stopped and looked around me. Full and empty glasses were standing everywhere, bottles had fallen to the side in between, some of them dripping leftover liquid on the floor. The sudden loss of concentration made the portal vanish with a hiss.
Only when the door buzzed again did I realize that this was the noise that had made me pause.
Carefully, trying not to trip over the glass containers, I got up and walked to the door.
"Who's there?"
"Open UP!"
It was Logan´s voice, but the panic it held gave me goosebumps. Quickly I pushed the button. Even before the door had opened completely Wolverine had ducked into the room and grabbed me by the collar of my shirt. He stomped through the mess on the floor, dragging me with him and pushed me against the wall. My ribs cracked and the liquid behind me instantly seeped through my clothes.
"When do we LEAVE?!"
With the last word the claws of his left hand shot out and dug deeply into the metal right next to my right ear. I gulped, my skin crawling at the madness in his eyes.
"I´m...I´m working on it."
Before he could respond in whatever way there came an angry grunt from the left corner and a heavy weight shoved his body away from me, into the shadows of another corner. Metal shrieked, sparkles flew, there was grunting and growling while I steadied myself.
All of a sudden everything was quiet.
"Lights." I hissed and whiteness flooded the quarters. In the corner a pair of biker boots stuck out under a growling gargoyle. I stumbled over and threw a glance over Bronx´ back. Where Logan´s nose ended, the gargoyle´s muzzle began. There is something intimidating about a set of huge shiny teeth attached to an angry dog that´s as big as a calf and has the body mass of a small bulldozer.
The man looked up at me, all madness gone.
"Make him get up."
A pause.
"Please."
Silently I patted the gargoyle´s back. Another grunt, then he got to his feet and retreated, not without stepping on Logan´s hand once more.
Logan winced and slowly sat up, staring at his hand. Pain showed in his eyes when he retracted the metal claws.
"Thanks. I don´t know what´s gotten into me."
I picked up the bottles and threw them back into the boxes without letting the mutant out of my sight.
"Neither do I. But it scares the hell out of me. First the professor and now-"
A horrible thought struck me.
"Professor Xavier is alright, isn´t he?"
"Yeah...yeah, of course. He hasn´t woken up yet, but the doc says he´ll be fine."
The BabCom screen lit up, showing the familiar "Incoming transmission"-sign. I walked past Bronx, who sniffed at a green puddle on the floor, and pushed a button. Dr. Franklin´s face appeared.
"Chris, thank goodness. I want you to lock the door right away! Don´t let anybody-"
He stopped and I turned my head slightly to see that Logan had gotten up and now leaned against the couch, clearly visible for the camera of the communication system. He used one claw to scratch the stubbles of his beard and listened with interest. "Don´t worry." I told Dr. Franklin, while Bronx came around and rubbed his head against my leg, "Weve got the situation under control."
The doctor looked from me to the mutant, then to the calm gargoyle.
"Are you sure?"
"I´m sure. How´s the professor?"
"He´s still sleeping. But it won´t be long until he wakes up."
He paused.
"There should be someone with him when he does. Someone he knows."
I glanced at Logan, who grumbled something under his breath. Ignoring the insolent grunt I turned back to the doctor.
"Give us a minute to talk, please. One of us will come to sickbay afterwards and stay with Professor Xavier."
He hesitated, then nodded solemnly.
"I hope you know what you´re doing."
Logan fished a bottle out of the box, sniffed at it, then drained the remains of its content in one gulp. Judging from his face the whiskey on this station equalled the poor quality of the water.
"It wasn´t you...it was..."
"What?"
He turned the bottle in his hand before looking at me.
"I don´t know. Just a feeling."
"What kind of feeling?"
"There was something out there...some kind of a hunter. It was after me."
My eyes narrowed. The only thing I could imagine being a thread to this mutant was a Shadow.
"What did you see?"
"Nothing. I...I didn´t even smell anything."
"Then how did you...?"
"I´m not imagining things! There was something there! I could feel it, as clearly as I see you sitting there! And the damn thing was strong."
"I´m not saying you´re paranoid, I´m just trying to find out what happened. I ran into this guy earlier and his...associates are a bunch you better avoid. Maybe I pissed him off enough to send them after you."
"Who are they?"
How do you explain what a Shadow is? To someone who knows nothing about this dimension? Five words or less. I took the bottle from his hand and threw it back into the box.
"Let´s just say they´re a certain...interest group on this station not many people know about yet. This guy I mentioned, Morden, is their representative. You´d probably recognize him right away. Dark hair, pleasant smile and you have to keep yourself from punching him from the moment he begins talking to you."
"What do they want?"
I smiled about his choice of words.
"That´s a good question. If we had the time I could tell you the whole story, but since we do not...they´re the bad guys – the extremely bad guys! I have no idea what they want from you – well, if it was one of them hunting you – but I´d rather not find out."
I paused.
"What do we do about the professor?"
With a grim face Logan turned and walked to the door.
"I´ll stay with him. But..." he looked back and his claws shot out, "...if I see some strange creature creeping up his bed I won´t ask if it belongs to the medical personnel!"
I followed him into the corridor.
"Fine. I´ll go to the bar to get some more bottles. Maybe it´s just my imagination, but it seems the portal is growing stronger. Should be possible to find out the reason."
We passed a group of business people who were discussing which restaurant they could go to and, further down the corridor, two Minbari, absorbed in a much more quiet dialogue.
At the intersection leading to the core shuttle I stopped.
"Your shuttle goes in the other direction, the entrance is over there."
The mutant walked past me and ignored the pointing finger.
"First I´ll see to it that you get down and back safely."
Okay, now this was getting ridiculous.
"I don´t need a babysitter."
Wolverine whirled around. A human family of three, who stood right next to the door to the core shuttle, stepped back nervously.
"If this thing is still here somewhere I won´t have you walking around on your own. And don´t see it as babysitting. I´m merely trying to protect the only link home I´ve got."
Putting it this way made the whole thing less ridiculous, but it didn´t make it any more pleasant. And since Bronx had disappeared again, I couldn´t even point out that there was already someone keeping me from getting in trouble.
"So now I´m a 'link'? Very charming..."
The metal door opened, two passengers walked out and the family hurried into the shuttle. I followed them and heard Logan coming after me. Sullen I hung my arms into one of the soft safety bars. Logan stopped next to me, grabbed another one and stared at the family which stared back like rabbits in a car´s headlight. The mother actually pressed her son tighter to herself.
With a soft woosh the shuttle left Green section towards the lower parts of the station. When it finally stopped at DownBelow the sudden pull threw the woman to the side. Logan´s fist shot out as quickly as his claws. The metal drilled into the wall opposite me and his arm caught her just in time. Her weight pressed him backwards, but the claws held him in place. "Th...thank you." She stammered, watching in horror as he pulled his claws out of the wall.
"Don´t mention it." Logan growled, retracted the metal and stepped aside to let her pass. We watched all three of them flee and followed down the corridor of Brown 2.
All I could hear was the sound of our footsteps.
"What exactly are you going to do?" he asked.
"My 'experiments' were a little... unorganized. I have to change that. Make a research plan or something. But first I need more supplies."
He stopped.
"Did you hear that?"
Was his nervousness catching up on me? The station´s noise can´t be unnerving when you first come here. I remember lying awake at night until I´d gotten used to the constant scratching and humming of the metal around me.
"I...don´t know. What did it sound like?"
"Like..."
His claws shot out again when a shadow appeared at the end of the corridor.
But it was only a young Centauri turning around the corner. The kid hesitated when he saw us, glanced over his shoulder and came to the conclusion that he´d taken the wrong way. He vanished as suddenly as he´d appeared.
Then I heard it too.
A high-pitched screech that drove goosebumps over my arms. It sounded like fingernails scratching over a blackboard. "Like this!" Logan hissed, grabbed my shoulder and together we raced down the corridor. There it was again, nearer this time. Now I understood Logan´s panic. Nothing in this world could stop my running away from this sound. It was not the healthy fear of someone who´s walking through an insecure neighbourhood at night and hearing footsteps behind them.
No, this was something else, a primal horror that shook my bones and crawled into my muscles to make my legs move even faster.
Sparkles flew from metal claws when Logan held onto the wall to take the next turn. We reached one of the main 'living areas' of DownBelow, a place like a huge untidy garage with lots of self-made tents in piles of junk. Filthy children jumped away from us, vanishing in all directions like rats. A couple of heads appeared behind container when we passed them, but they didn´t stay long either.
My eyes were glued to Logan´s shoulders during the mad race through Brown section and never left them. Adrenaline pumped in my blood, giving me just enough strength to keep up with the mutant.
We would have run even longer, but suddenly the way in front of us was blocked by another pile of metal junk, parts of it reaching up to the ceiling.
A dead end.
We turned around, breathing heavily.
The corridor behind us was empty. I rubbed my hands to keep them from trembling.
"Is it gone?" My own whisper brought the goosebumps back to my arms.
Logan took a few steps back the way we´d come, sniffed the air and growled under his breath.
I followed him, desperately fighting the urge to grasp his arm.
Everthing was quiet.
After what seemed like hours the mutant relaxed.
"I think we´re safe for the moment."
His words would have been more reassuring if he´d retracted his claws on the way back.
Nothing in our surroundings indicated a disturbance of peace, let alone a monster on the hunt.
The kids had gathered again. They were eyeing us with suspicion when we walked past, but didn't run away. A little boy in rags rested in the lap of a black girl around twelve years of age, who leaned against a metal box. She was holding a small wooden stick in one hand. The other was caressing the little boy's head.
Our eyes locked when I stepped over another kid lying on the floor. The girl raised the stick to her mouth and blew. A tune formed, a simple melody, yet somehow familiar.
The small children started to whimper when the ground shook again. I held on to a piece of junk that looked more stable than the rest and glanced around to find Logan doing the same, only a few metres ahead. He motioned me to hurry up and swayed on. When the tremor was over I threw a last glance to the girl with the flute and then followed the mutant into the next corridor.
A blonde woman read from the teleprompter.
"...haven't received any new information on the tremors that keep shaking Babylon 5. Professor Hong from the National Space Science Centre in Kyoto told our reporters yesterday that these so-called "space quakes" don't resemble a similar series of events, happening only a few weeks ago, when a rumour of genetically enhanced telepaths found its way to ISN. It was said that at least one rogue telepath had telekinetic abilities and used them to threaten the station. PSI Corps denied these rumours, saying the cops they'd sent were on a diplomatic routine mission that was in no way connected to a rogue hunt. Babylon 5´s commanding staff was unavailable for interviews. Meanwhile, residents are leaving the station – temporarily as they say -, while maintenance crews work overtime to repair damage and secure high-risk areas, such as the fusion reactor and the atmosphere supply of the alien sections. These days, cargo ships leave immediately after unloading their goods. In the long ru n this could mean a great financial loss for B5´s business- and entertainment industry."
The camera moved to the side, showing a man in a scientists´ lab coat sitting next to the newscaster. She smiled at him.
"Professor Hong, thank you for joining us today."
A professional nod was the response.
"My pleasure."
She went on.
"What could be the cause of the space quakes on Babylon 5?"
The professor waved his hand as if driving off a fly.
"First of all, Nancy, there is no such thing as space quakes. Similar to its counterpart in the aviation industry it is a term widely used to explain reactions of engines and machinery being maltreated. In this case I believe the station's hasty construction results in certain reactions of the zero-gravity docking stabilisers. You see the nature of space..."
At that point I was grabbed and pulled away from the monitor.
"Once we're back you can watch all the news you want, but first you need to concentrate on getting us out of here!"
I bit back a protest, grabbed my box more firmly to keep it from slipping through my arms and followed Logan into the busier sections of the station.
I realized that after scribbling the results of test 28 c.
'Liquid: Centauri Ale
Reaction: see Earth water, Narn beer, Drazi beer Drazi coffee.'
With a sigh I crossed out the '', set a comma instead and added Markab 'kumal milk'. The door to the neighbouring room opened and Logan stepped in with a raised eyebrow. I shook my head.
"Nothing. How 'bout...?" I glanced at the closing door. The mutant growled a negative answer.
"Keep me-"I began.
"-informed." He finished, turned around and left again. This could have been an amusing ritual by now, but neither of us found it particularly funny. A few moments later the door opened again for a certain gargoyle dog. Eyes without pupils looked around and found a comfy space next to a few boxes with medical equipment. He gave me a rough push with his head when he passed me by, moved in a circle and dropped, head between his paws.
My attention went back to my work. I glared at the numbers and words I'd written in the previous hour, trying to find a clue. However, the only thing I realized was that my writing had become so bad I could hardly read it myself anymore.
And the fact, of course, that this wasn't working out.
And that I hated doing research work, especially in small rooms.
I realized that I didn't like space stations and the smell of recycled air.
That I would rather be at home now, sinking into my comfortable chair, with the only liquid near me being a cup of steaming hot chocolate...
And that I would kill anyone who ever suggested a dimension slide again.
Actually I realized quite a few things in the side room of MedLab 2.
I tried to continue, but the strong feeling that I was wasting my time with a useless study while all around me everything was falling apart kept me more than a little distracted. Before the upcoming wave of claustrophobia drove me out of the room, away from my 'experiment', the door opened again. Logan stuck his head in.
"He's awake."
"He said that?"
The doctor shook his head.
"Just a guess. There aren't many people who'd think I'm the "Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come". He's rather quiet, though."
He walked to a nearby table and checked some readings on a screen before looking up again.
"You can go in. But try not to excite him."
Logan looked from the doctor to the patient behind glass, then to me and mouthed 'Ebenezer Scrooge?'
I shrugged and stepped through the evolving doors into the room.
After a frustrating five minutes we were driven out by an energetic nurse. Logan walked back to the window and growled. I leaned against the wall next to him.
"You shouldn't have told him we're on a space station."
"I thought that might help his memory to come back."
Inside on the stretcher the professor's head jerked back and forth.
"He thinks he's a 19th century asshole with a spirit problem. And you're telling him about space travel and dimension portals?"
"So what do you suggest? Dancing around his bed singing "I'm the Ghost of Christmas Future"? How would that help?"
The man on the bed moved slower, due to the sedative the nurse had given him.
"At least he would have his consciousness for more than five minutes." I snapped, turned around and walked through the door into the side room.
"How about tea?" Logan's voice.
"I tried. Reaction was the same as...I don't know, as a whole lot of other things."
A cup was placed beside me on the floor.
"Then I suggest you just drink it."
I glanced at the cup, then up at Logan.
"Oh. Thanks."
The tea ran hot through my throat and brought some calmness back to my mind. I threw the mutant a suspicious glance and nodded towards the cup.
"The doc didn't put anything in it, did he?"
Logan looked insulted.
"Would I give it to you if he did?"
I considered that for a moment.
"Yes, you would."
He considered, too, and nodded.
"Maybe. But it's only tea."
I took another sip.
"Any news on the professor?"
"Still sleeping."
"Right..."
Getting up I put the cup on a table.
"I need more of..." I glanced around, "...well, basically of everything. I'll be back soon."
"I'm coming with you!"
"No. I'll check out a guy who might have some special things in stock. He's rather...shy, if you catch my drift."
He watched me silently.
"What about...whatever it was down there?"
"We found no sign of a thread. I have the strong suspicion that Bester is behind this. Maybe he or one of his people seeded this panic in our minds."
"Now that explanation will help me sleep tonight."
"I'll take Bronx. Bester could never influence him. His reactions will tell me if there's something to fear."
Before Logan could object, I pulled Bronx´ ear. The gargoyle blinked, shook his head and yawned, then came to his feet.
"C'mon, buddy. We're going for a walk."
Suddenly the gargoyle stopped and sniffed the air.
I moved to the side, pressed myself against the wall and looked around, ready to flee if necessary. He trotted a few steps forward with a somewhat curious expression and then bolted around the next corner. I was about to call him, when he hopped backwards and barked once in my direction.
And here we have the "language problem" again. I thought, but since Bronx seemed relaxed and apparently wanted me to take a look at whatever there was I stepped forward and joined him at the intersection.
A massive shadow was standing in the barely lit corridor. I glanced at Bronx who showed no sign of tension, and back at the shadow. Not a Shadow with a capital "S", but I wasn't sure I liked this one any better.
His head moved, a subtle greeting. Maybe this was a chance to get the answers to some important questions. I pulled myself together and stepped forward.
"Good afternoon, Ambassador Kosh."
We lost the Ambassador when he entered the Diplomatic Quarters Section in Green 2. His place isn't exactly on the main route and of course he requires the special atmosphere of his home world. So he vanished behind the next door into a cloud of yellow smoke that would kill me soon after taking a few sniffs. I grabbed a gasmask from a shelf and looked at Bronx.
"This thing will never fit on your muzzle. You wait here, alright? I'll be back soon."
He sat down and watched me until I'd put the mask on. A bleeping sound announced that the inner door could be opened safely and I pressed the button, trying to slip through quick enough to keep the yellow smoke from drifting into the small room and poisoning my buddy.
The door closed behind me with a hiss.
I wandered down the corridor and stopped in front of an unmarked door. Before I could ring the "bell" it opened. Slowly I entered Kosh's quarters or study or whatever this room was. There wasn't much to see in the dim light, mostly smoke and some metal strutting here and there. A monitor had been placed at a wall, but the screen was black. Add a few blue light bulbs and the right sound equipment and techno fans would have a ball in here. Kosh was standing in the middle of the room, waiting. I stepped forward. His mouthpiece opened and for the first time I heard his voice.
"You have brought great danger upon this station."
He paused.
"The people in your company cannot stay here. They must leave."
I waited, but that was all he said. Fine, I could be succinct as well.
"Two words: 'Why' and 'How'?"
"Three words."
Just what I needed now - a smartass Vorlon.
"'Why' then?"
The metal strutting behind Kosh began to vibrate. A second later another tremor ran through the station. I leaned against the wall next to the door. The Vorlon didn´t move. His artificial voice rang in my ears.
"A powerful mind leaves traces. Traces are being tracked."
The tremor stopped and I let go of the wall.
"What does that mean – for simple minded people like me?"
"They must leave."
I had a hard time controlling my emotions, but female intuition told me kicking Kosh´s butt wouldn't be the ideal way of handling this situation. I'd probably just damage his suit and my foot. It wouldn't help improving my diplomatic skills either and according to my teachers at Assassins´ Guild there was still a lot to improve. So I could only grind my teeth.
"Or what?"
"The dimensional centre will be destroyed. They will die. As will others."
"How?"
"You need to hurry. The hunters are close."
"Are you talking about the Shadows? Or are they someone else?"
"Worse than Shadows."
The audience was over, I could feel it.
"Please, I need more information."
"You need to hurry."
"But I haven't figured out how to cross the dimensional line!"
"Ask the other traveller."
He stood there waiting for me to leave.
"Thank you for your time." I mumbled when I turned around, adjusted the gasmask and left his quarters.
Now I only had to go to Bronx and ask him how to jump back. I could already imagine the 'dialogue':
'Hey buddy, do you know how we get everybody back home? If you tell me you get a huge pizza at my place.'
'Wooohhh!'
Although the gargoyle seemed to comprehend a great deal of what I told him this mutual understanding was usually connected to food. He had different ways to tell me he was hungry, a bunch of affectionate grunts and even more mischievous looks. The way he held his ears told me about his mood and when he was especially happy he simply knocked me over, pinned me to the ground and drove his tongue all over my face.
There were no words in his language that could possibly answer my questions about dimension leaping.
The visit to Kosh´s quarters had been a complete waste of time.
If only I had kicked his butt...I wouldn't know more now, but I´d certainly feel a great deal better...
Part 10
When I came back to MedLab Logan was waiting outside at the door.
"Well?"
I stared at him in genuine puzzlement, my mind still wrapped around the conversation with Kosh.
"Well what?"
He stared back.
"Your 'shopping trip'. Either you didn´t get much or your underground merchant has some sort of delivery service."
I slapped my forehead.
"Damn. I forgot!"
A glare of disbelief was the answer.
"That´s a joke!"
"No, I...you see, there was this guy, who...never mind, I thought I might get the solution to our problem. But he only warned me."
"He threatened you?"
"No, he just said you guys were a danger to the station and needed to leave."
The mutant snorted and shook his head.
"And did he also say how the hell we´re supposed to do that?"
"Not really. He said something about asking 'the other traveller', but-" I gestured towards Bronx who was just strolling around the corner, "-it´s not like I´d understand dimensional technobabble if it comes from a human – let alone a gargoyle dog."
Logan clenched a fist.
"Who where you talking to? If he knows anything I could persuade him to help us."
I shrugged.
"Unfortunately violence won´t help in this case. Kosh is out of our – even your - league."
Before the mutant could respond I raised a hand.
"Believe me just once, okay? I don´t like it either."
For the first time it occurred to me that we were still standing outside the infirmary.
"What are you doing here anyway? Did the doc throw you out?"
There was an uncomfortable silence, then:
"No, he didn´t. I decided to leave."
I raised an eyebrow, waiting for the rest of the story, which came in little chunks and pieces.
"He woke up again."
"So who does he think he is now?"
A growl escaped from the corner of his mouth.
"I don´t know."
"You didn´t ask him?" His glance went past me, but I wouldn´t be diverted. With a kn owing nod I concluded.
"Dr. Franklin wouldn´t let you see him."
This time his eyes lit visibly.
"He and this security guard? As if they could stop me!"
"What was it then?"
I´ve never seen Logan this uncomfortable before.
"He..., well, he..."
Why didn´t he just spit it out? Alarm rang in my mind. As if we didn´t have enough problems already.
"What?!"
"He PINCHED my arse!"
Fashion tip to myself: Mouth looks better closed. Only Assassins´ discipline held my facial features together.
"He...did...what?"
"He pinched my arse! And then he said I looked like some guy named...'Rum Rum Tugger'."
Assassins´ discipline never had to hold against something like this!
Without the wall as support I´d have dropped to the floor, a twitching bundle of insanity.
When oxygen was reaching my brain again I swept away a few tears and stood up straight, trying to ignore the angry growl from the mutant.
"That´s NOT FUNNY!"
The great Wolverine being pinched in the butt by a guy with a foible for "Cats"? I nearly lost it again, but a glance in the face of disaster sobered me enough to talk normally.
"Well, he IS out of his mind...or, on the contrary, his mind is full of other people. You can´t blame him for-"
"I don´t blame him for anything! I just want to get out of here. What else can we do?"
Good question. One that´s been bouncing around my head for a while now.
"I don´t know. I´ve never been in a mess like this. You´re supposed to be the superhero – can´t you remember a similar situation from your past?"
"My memory isn´t very reliable, as you know. And what do you mean I´m 'supposed to be the superhero'?"
"Um..."
Right, that was a topic we hadn´t covered before. He didn´t know about movies and comics telling his story. Freakin´ comics! For a moment I´d forgotten that he was the 'movie Wolverine'. I knew about some of the things he´d done, some places he´d been – but from the comics!
No idea how much of the original history of this character they´d packed into the motion picture. It didn´t matter anyway – my knowledge of the comic events was extremely limited and there was no plot about a dimension jump I recalled.
"…figure of speech."
The Lab door opened and Dr. Franklin stepped out.
"I suggest you come in. You may find this interesting."
The professor´s body was sitting upright on the stretcher, watching us with a calm, but serious expression when we walked in. Only Logan´s reaction – or rather the lack of it – made me suspicious and I kept a safety margin from the bed.
"Hi. I´m Chris. That´s Logan. You already know Dr. Franklin."
The man in the bed nodded.
"Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the USS Enterprise. Could you please explain to me where I am and what is going on?"
"It´s a long and rather complicated story, Captain. You´re on a space station named Babylon 5."
There was a growl coming from behind.
"You think that was wise?"
Picard glanced around, then tried to get out of the bed.
"What happened to my ship? And-" A second, unsuccessful attempt. Dr. Franklin threw me a warning glance, but I shook my head. This was the first personality that could deal with the situation, maybe even help finding a solution. I didn´t want to lose him to the sandman any time soon.
"Please, sir, calm down."
"Why can´t I move my legs?"
His voice sounded more irritated than scared and I wanted to keep it that way.
"Because they´re not yours."
If you confuse a person you always gain a couple of seconds in which they try to figure out the meaning of what you just said/ did. That means their brain is occupied with problem solving and spends less of its capacity to build up 'panic particles' to fuel the fight-or-flight-muscles.
The more curious a person is the better this trick works. I´d read that somewhere and apparently it was true.
The Captain sank back and threw me a suspicious glance.
"What do you mean, they 'aren´t mine'?"
"This is a parallel universe. Your mind is currently stuck inside a body that looks very much like your own, apart from the fact that your host is paralyzed."
Logan leaned over and whispered hoarsly in my ear.
"How do you know what he looks like?"
"Tell you later."
After a pause Picard spoke again.
"This is extremely hard to believe. How did I get here?"
"That´s the part we don´t know anything about either. Your alter ego is a professor from Earth who only came here for a visit himself and has already played host to a Duke, a hostage taker, Ebenezer Scrooge and an interior designer, all in the same body."
"Ebenezer Scrooge?"
I made a face.
"Don´t ask."
There was a pause the new personality used to eye us all carefully, then:
"How long did these people stay?"
I looked at the doc, who was standing near the bed, in case his patient flipped again. Dr. Franklin consulted a pad, then shrugged.
"Differently. From a few minutes to a couple of hours. The time span seems to decrease, though."
"Then I may be gone in a few minutes?"
"I can´t tell. Possibly."
"So..." the Captain paused again to look around.
"...why me?"
"Some sort of interdimensional connection." I improvised without hesitation. "My guess is that you, like the other personalities, are somehow connected to the professor."
"What kind of connection?"
You´re all characters played by Patrick Stewart. Probably the most accurate, but not the most advisable answer.
"We´re working on that. In the meantime: What do you know about dimension travel?"
Thanks to the Captain´s own curiosity about this dimension we strayed from the main subject of our conversation a lot. And since I always had to assess which questions I could answer truthfully and which evasively it turned out to be a rather straining dialogue.
After a while Logan began pacing through the room, then left. I murmured an excuse and went after him.
Bronx was wagging his tail at a scared looking nurse on the other side of the room, trying to persuade her to feed him. I whistled to get his attention, then shook my head and he turned around and sullenly walked away from the relieved woman.
I could feel the Captain´s glance following me through the side window of his room when I caught up with Logan in front of Dr. Franklin´s office.
"Hey! What´s going on?"
He threw a glance around before turning to me.
"I could ask you the same question. You wanna play the diplomatic game – fine. But get us out of here first!"
"I´m trying. With this personality we´ve got at least a chance to get out of here. I mean, this is the first guy who has dealt with this sort of situation before." I hesitated.
"Well, maybe not this sort of situation, but-"
"See? That´s what I´m talking about. Last thing you two were discussing was the political structure of some alien species´ gouvernment...Mingar."
"Minbar."
"Whatever! This is not helping. We need to get home and this is not the way!"
"Oh no? I wasn´t aware we had so many options. What is the way?"
"We should talk to people who know what´s happening. This guy who warned you."
"He´s not exactly the talkative kind."
Claws shot out.
"I´ll make him."
I shook my head.
"You won´t. Look, I´ve buried my "kick-his-ass"-attitude, either. It´s not working in his case. I´m sure we´ll have more success when trying to follow his advice."
"I don´t see you questioning your dog!"
"Bronx is not the only "traveller" here. The term applies to you two as well. Kosh could have meant that one of the professor´s personalities has the key to this problem. So I´m questioning the guys that show up. Right now it´s Captain Picard. And he´s by far the best chance we´ve had yet."
"How come you know so much about this guy anyway? You had no idea who this Henry Grey fellow was before Sinclair told you. And this Captain of yours is not even a historic figure. Or a criminal from TV, for that matter."
He threw me a suspicious glance.
"Or is he?"
At least this time I could wholeheartedly tell him:
"No, he certainly isn´t." But I also decided against telling anybody the whole story. Couldn´t be healthy for this or any other dimension.
"I know you like to be in control, but can´t you just trust me on this? I´m sure it is the best chance we have."
He did not look pleased.
"If you don´t have a clue within the next hour I´m going to this riddlemaster of yours and see if he remembers a little more about the things he didn´tell you."
"But-"
"That´s my last word!"
Not pleased at all...
"Alright. I´ll do what I can. If Captain Picard has-"
An impressed whistle was coming from the door. We turned. The black girl I´d seen in DownBelow earlier was standing at the entrance to MedLab, the strap of a battered backpack over one shoulder. She was slightly older than twelve, maybe 13 or 14 - I´m not good at guessing ages.
She wore her hair in dreadlocks, about shoulderlength. Dirty jeans and a sweatshirt that had probably been grey once completed the picture.
Before we could react she spotted us and walked over.
"Man, this place is huge. You say "MedLab", but it´s more like a medical complex."
Logan threw me a questioning glance and I shrugged with a "don´t-ask-me"-expression. He turned to the girl.
"If you don´t mind, this is a private conversation."
She grinned.
"Oh, go ahead - I don´t mind at all." Without taking the backpack off she slipped her hand into one of its pockets and pulled a pair of bend chocolate bars out. We continued staring at her while she unwrapped one.
"You want one, too? It´s real chocolate, not the lousy substitute they sell here."
I shook my head.
"Who are you?"
The girl extended her hand.
"Caroline. Call me 'Crash'."
Crash?
Hesitantly I shook her hand.
"I´m-"
"Chris. I know. And your blue monster´s name is Bronx. I´ve done my homework, you know."
Homework?
"That´s...Logan." I continued, half expecting that she would interrupt me again.
The girl grinned again.
"I didn´t think he would answer to "Leopold"."
I goggled at her, while Logan´s eyes narrowed.
"Who are you?"
He would have gotten more reaction if he´d talked to the wall. Caroline (or "Crash") turned to the professor´s room and beamed at the two of us.
"And you got Captain Picard, too. That´s really cool!"
My eyes went from the patient in the bed to the girl.
"Who the-?"
"What happened? He can´t be space sick, can he? I mean that would be too weird..."
Talking about weird...
"He´s not space sick. And he´s not Captain Picard either." I said, while trying to remember the point where this conversation had entered Twilight Zone.
"What do you mean, he´s not Picard? I heard you saying-"
"WHO ARE YOU?!" Logan´s voice roared through the whole lab. A nurse dropped a tablet with medical instruments and two assistant surgeons glanced up from the panel they´ve been working on.
Crash took another bite from her chocolate bar.
"Y´nee da calm dawn." she waved at Logan with the bar and swallowed.
"No, seriously – I´m here to pick you up." she continued in my direction, while searching around for a bin to throw the wrapping paper in. My ears began to ring slightly.
"Me?"
She stopped searching and stuffed the paper into a pocket of her backpack.
"Sure. But I´m afraid you´ll have to take these guys home first."
"You know-?"
"You need to hurry up. Drop them off wherever you found them and come back, alright? I´ll wait here for you."
I was still trying to adjust to the new situation.
"Does this mean you came here the same way I – we – did?"
"If he´s not Picard, who is he then?"
I began to suspect she was doing this intentionally.
"Charles X. Xavier. Look, if you-"
Her eyes grew round.
"Professor Charles X. Xavier?!"
"Yeah, why?"
"The Professor Charles X. Xavier, who´s a telepath?!"
"Um...yeah, that one."
"That´s bad. I mean that´s really bad!"
"Wh-"
She grabbed my arm.
"You need to get them out here at once!"
If I´d just got a penny for every time someone said this to me since we ´d arrived on this station. I made a face.
"No kidding. How?"
The girl looked at me as if I´d grown two additional ears.
"Same way you came here, of course."
Logan sighed and closed his eyes.
"We tried. Whatever brought us here isn´t working anymore."
Crash thought for a moment.
"How long have you been on B5?"
I shrugged.
"About a day. Why?"
" ´cause you can only jump again after 24 hours."
Logan and I exchanged glances. Mental arithmetic had never been one of my strengths, but I tried it anyway.
"That would mean we could jump again in-"
The voice of Doctor Franklin made me jump at that very moment.
"17 minutes. From now." We turned around and saw him watching us with interest.
"I´m sorry, I overheard the last part of your conversation."
The ringing in my ears grew stronger. My eyes swept past Logan, who still didn´t seem to know if he should believe the news, and searched the girl´s gaze.
"Are you sure about this? The portal works again after 24 hours?"
Crash shrugged.
"If Lars says so, that´s how it is."
"Right." I groaned weakly, "We wouldn´t question Lars, would we?"
Logan bent over me.
"Who's Lars?"
Someone was laughing. After a moment I realized it was me.
"How the hell should I know?"
Crash didn´t offer an explanation.
"You´ll meet him soon. We just drop your friends at their place first."
I looked at Logan, my eyes sending a desperate plea that he might make this decision. His face lit for the first time.
"Sounds good to me."
"She must be the 'traveller' Kosh was talking about." I whispered back, "If she´s right we´ll get back to your place in about...13 minutes."
"You wanna come back and go with her afterwards?"
Crash had turned the chair next to the bed around, kneeled on it and used two small protocol pads as starships. She seemed to be replaying a scene from a science fiction movie. I ignored the desperate look Picard shot us.
"Dunno. Maybe. I mean she is rather...strange. But if she knows what´s going on here...and besides: Bronx likes her, too."
The gargoyle was sitting behind the chair watching the girl attentively. Logan snorted.
"He´d like anyone who gives him food. She bought him with two chocolate bars!"
"Bronx is greedy, but when it comes to judging people I trust him completely."
The mutant didn´t object, but continued staring at the scene in front of us.
"I wonder what she meant when she said it´s a "bad thing" that the professor´s a telepath."
I nodded slowly and checked my watch again.
"Let´s ask her."
When I stepped forward to do just that Picard´s expression turned from desperation to gratefulness – and suddenly to surprise. Another change of personalities?
"Admiral..."
But then: What personality would take me for an Admiral?
"…Chekov!"
"Chek-?"
I turned to the door just like everyone else.
A man in a dark suit was standing in the doorframe with three other people in the background, blocking the way out. I didn´t blame Xavier´s personality for mistaking him as Chekov. If he´d had more time for a careful scan he´d have realized that those cold eyes didn´t fit the character of the Russion navigator who once belonged to the legendary crew.
Bester stepped forward and waved one hand. Two of his collegues slid into the room like snakes, stopping at his sides, faces expressionless. He turned to me and smiled his pleasant smile.
"You seem to like laboratories. You certainly spend a lot of time in them."
There were footsteps from outside and Franklin appeared in the door.
"This is a medical facility. I must ask you to leave at once – you are disturbing my patients."
He pushed himself through the group and stopped next to the bed, shielding Xavier´s body against the Psi Cops.
Bester didn´t even turn in his direction, but kept his eyes on me.
"I´m afraid this is a matter of Earth security, doctor. We have orders to take this girl and everyone in her company with us."
"The hell you will!" I retreated a few steps to make space for the bulldozer.
"Bronx!"
A satisfied grunt was coming from two sides at once. Two fighters were suddenly back in their element, storming past me, one with gleaming teeth, the other with gleaming blades.
Almost lazily the two nameless Psi Cops raised their hands.
Bronx leaped forward – and was stopped in midair by an invisible force. He was just floating there, his paws kicking the empty space around him. An angry yelp was audible when he moved his legs faster, trying to get to the people he felt were responsible for his situation.
Logan had already raised his arm with a snarl, ready to tear the other guy to pieces, but stopped at almost the same point. I could see his muscles straining, but he remained where he was as if glued to the floor.
There was a stifled curse behind me and then the girl ran past, dodged around Bester and another Cop and shot through the door. Bester´s expression never changed. An even louder curse coming from outside told me plainly that her escape had been prevented.
Another curse – a man´s voice – told me that she continued fighting nevertheless.
Bester´s smile broadened.
"No attack, Miss Stein? Don't you want to throw yourself onto me and – what was it? – yes: rip my lungs out of my chest?"
I didn't move. What would be the point in attacking him? He had a whole lot of powerful telepaths on his side and not even Sinclair could override an order by the Psi Corps. Since I didn't have any water on me the only way out of here was blocked, even if Crash was right and it would open any minute now. There was really no option left.
Bester had won.
All we could do was to follow him and his goons and...
Wait a minute!
I grabbed what looked like a pen from a nearby table and threw it right at Bester's face. It bounced off his forehead and fell harmlessly to the floor. Only for a brief moment his pupils widened in surprise and I felt the dark cloud of depression rising from my thoughts.
"Stop meddling with my mind!"
"It's for your own good, I assure you. We wouldn't want you or anyone in your company getting hurt, now, would we? Why don't you just relax, while-"
"What' going on here?" came an icy voice from the door. This time even Bester's head turned. The Psi Cop who'd been waiting outside was pushed into the room, followed by Garibaldi who had trained his weapon on him. Sinclair stepped in afterwards, one hand on the shoulder of the shaken girl, who absently rubbed her upper arm where she'd most certainly been held by her captor. With satisfaction I saw that the guy was bleeding from a bite mark on the back of his hand. Crash caught my impressed glance and smiled back grimly.
"Commander. Always a pleasure to see you." Bester said quietly while turning around.
"Unfortunately I can't say that about you." came the cold reply. "Why are you attacking these people?"
Taking into account that the picture presenting itself in this room rather indicated that the Psi Cops were being attacked the question showed that Sinclair already knew Bester quite well.
"We are merely trying to convince your guests to accompany us." He waved and the Cop with the bleeding hand pulled a pad out of a pocket and handed it over to his boss, who in turn gave it to the Commander.
"All five of them are coming with me. I'm afraid there's nothing you can do." He paused, then continued with an evil smile.
"Well, actually this is not correct. I officially ask you for assistance in bringing them to the next ship to Earth."
Garibaldi looked like he had something to say about this, but before he could open his mouth Sinclair spoke.
"I´m afraid I can´t spare any security officers right now. They are needed to clear areas that have been damaged by the last quake."
He touched Garibaldi's shoulder briefly and the Chief of Security lowered his PPG, but didn´t put it away.
The Psi Cop´s lips curled, but he didn´t comment the refusal. Instead he waved to his men.
"We are leaving. Make sure they are secured."
He glanced at Logan and Bronx who were still unable to move. Pure hatred shone out of two pairs of eyes when the telepath walked past. Bronx moved his feet again, growling quietly. Logan couldn´t move. I saw the muscles of his jaws working as if he tried to speak, but his mouth remained closed.
"Johnson, you take him." Bester addressed 'bite mark' and pointed to the professor who had watched the whole scene silently. Before he or his alter ego could object Franklin stepped into the way of the Cop.
"I won´t allow that. This man is in no condition to travel."
Bester snorted scornfully.
"You´re lying, doctor. Whatever happened to his mind doesn´t affect his body. He´s in no immediate danger." Lips pressed tightly together the doctor watched as Johnson glanced at the hover chair that promptly moved to the side of the bed. His boss smirked at the B5 staff.
"A good day to you, Commander. Doctor. Chief."
"Commander!"
"There´s nothing I can do, Michael." Sinclair said slowly, watching me. "The paperwork is in order."
It was clear that he expected me to do something.
To disappear like last time.
But I didn´t have the means to do it and Bester knew it.
Crash left Sinclair´s side and walked to me.
"Whaddaya waiting for?" she hissed, while watching Johnson, who exchanged glances with Bester.
"Do you have any water on you?" I hissed back, "Because I don´t!"
She was just about to reply when suddenly her hands flew to her mouth and she stumbled back into a chair where she remained, her eyes rolling furiously. Johnson rubbed the skin around the bite mark and kept staring at her with malicious glee.
"That´s enough." said Bester quietly, "I won´t allow any more interruptions."
I didn't like the look on his face when he glanced at the girl. As if he'd just received an unexpected prize.
Bronx floated back to the floor and he and Logan moved forward, though not out of their own free will as one could easily conclude from their strained faces.
Johnson lifted Xavier´s body from the bed into the hover chair. Apparently he could concentrate on keeping the girl in her seat without looking at her directly. I had no doubt that he was the one responsible, because Bester had never been able to move stuff (let alone people) around like that.
"This is outrageous." Picard remarked with as much dignity as he could muster while being treated like a crate of goods. "What right do you have to perform this kind of police state methods?"
"All but the moral right." Franklin said bitterly and watched Johnson pushing the hover chair with his patient past him. After a sideways glance at the Commander he followed them outside. The only people left in the room - apart from me - were now Sinclair, Garibaldi, Bester and the girl, who still couldn´t move.
The Psi Cop held out a hand for her.
"This way..."
Crash slowly took her hands from her mouth and stood. I expected her to fling herself on Bester and sink her teeth into the palm in front of her eyes, but she just moved on with an empty expression.
"Stop that!" I spat fiercely at Bester, wishing once more that I could wipe the smile from his face.
"I'm afraid I can´t do that. She already injured one of my men. I won´t take this risk again. If you please-"
"Let her go! I don´t even know her!"
"That's irrelevant."
My feet began moving before my mind gave a conscious order and I guess this time the depressing thoughts were all home-made. I didn´t see a way out and certainly Bester would make sure that I didn´t get a chance to escape again. He even found a way around Bronx, so no help could be expected from this side either.
But I wouldn't give up. I´d keep my eyes open all the way: If there was the slightest chance for escape I´d take it. And leave everyone else back here?
Maybe I should scrape my money together and take evening courses: "How to behave like a hero without making a total fool out of yourself".
Stepping into the main room of MedLab I found everyone staring at the door leading to the corridor. The person standing there was so massive it filled the whole doorway.
My heart leaped.
It was Kosh.
"Ambassador Kosh." Sinclair´s voice sounded just as surprised as the doctor´s who walked around the group of people to greet the Vorlon.
"Do you need...any help?" Franklin asked, while checking the encounter suit for cracks or other signs of damage. Kosh tilted his head and watched the group in front of him. His artificial voice rang through the room.
"I am here to help."
He clearly wasn't going to move out of the doorway.
Bester stepped forward and cleared his throat. He didn´t sound as cold as usual, but still rather impatient.
"Excuse me. My name is Bester, Earth Psi Corps. We are in a hurry, so if you´d please step asi-"
"They must leave at once!"
Bester looked at his colleagues, then his prisoners and back to the Vorlon with a strained smile.
"We were just about to."
"They have to go back where they came from!"
The Psi Cop shook his head.
"With all due respect, Ambassador, I have my orders. They are coming with me!"
The Vorlon´s head dropped a little.
"Then there is no other way."
I jumped back in shock when Bester´s body sagged against mine. All around me people dropped to the ground with no obvious reason. Nurses, doctors, even patients who´d been sitting upright in bed sank back into their cushions. Johnson had fallen on his bleeding hand. The part of his face that was still visible showed a dark red smear from ear to nose.
"What the-"
Once the Psi Cops were lying unconscious on the ground Logan recovered quickly. With his claws still out he looked like the last man standing on a battlefield. Only that he wasn´t the "last": Bronx was sniffing around the people on the floor, got hold of Bester´s boot, pulled it off the man´s foot with some difficulty and began chewing on it. I didn´t see Crash and assumed for a moment that she´d fallen, too, but the black girl kneeled next to Sinclair and Garibaldi, feeling their pulses. I glanced at Kosh who hadn´t moved at all, then walked over to her. Both men´s faces showed a peaceful expression.
"Well?"
The girl looked up.
"They're breathing alright. What about them?" she nodded towards Bester and his men.
I glared at her.
"Who cares?"
She shrugged and used one hand to brush a few dreadlocks out of her face.
"Good point. So what just happened?"
I offered her my hand and pulled her up from the ground.
"Beats me. Let´s ask Mr. Sandman over there."
Together we stared at Kosh who was still standing in the doorway.
Logan stopped at our side.
"Is this the guy-?"
I nodded and turned to the Vorlon.
"What did you-?"
"You must leave before it´s too late!" rattled the mechanic voice.
"What did you do to them?"
"There is no time. Leave now."
"But-"
Crash tugged on the sleeve of my shirt.
"Come on, let's go. Who knows how long this Bester character is going to sleep."
My head was spinning. There were still so many unanswered questions. But she was right, of course.
"I still need...I need some water."
"Can't this wait until we're somewhere else?!"
I glared at her.
"How am I supposed to get somewhere else without water?"
"What are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about the water opening the portal."
She looked as if she was seeing me for the first time.
"The portal opens after 24 hours. Period. The only thing you needed water for would be to turn it into a water slide!"
"But-"
Another tremor shook the station. Instinctively everybody grabbed the nearest available object that would support them and waited for the eruptions to pass. Kosh didn't move. I began to suspect that his suit was a flying unit that moved over the ground like the hover chai-.
Oh no!
The professor!
I turned around and spotted the chair a few metres behind us, drifting slightly towards a nearby shelf. The man in it seemed to be unconscious, his head on his chest lolling from one side to the other.
There was a loud curse. Logan jumped over a stretcher and stumbled to the chair with glass falling around him and smashing on the floor.
He grabbed the chair firmly and steered it back to us.
"I don´t care who or what this guy is!" the mutant roared furiously when he stopped next to us, struggling to keep his balance.
"But we will take his advice and leave at once!"
Crash grabbed my arm.
"Quick - open the portal!"
I raised my hand and concentrated hard. The blue circle appeared in the middle of the room like it had before – only this time the air around it sang and when I stepped closer I felt my hand being dragged towards the tunnel.
"It's working again!"
Crash nodded towards the portal.
"Now think of where we need to go."
"The...the mansion." I concentrated on house, garden and woods of the huge X-Men premises. The portal's swishing sound increased.
"GO!" I shouted over the noise at Logan, who´d taken the motionless body of his fellow mutant out of the chair and looked back hesitatingly as if he didn´t want to leave us behind. But after a second he turned around, jumped and both disappeared in the blue vortex.
I felt the tremors fading away and gave the girl a push.
"You´re next!"
She also hung back for a moment.
"Don´t stay too long or you´ll be stuck here for another day!" she shouted, then leaped forward and vanished.
Staring around wildly I found Bronx and whistled for him. The gargoyle dropped the boot and trotted over. His ears twitched, the eyes wandered to Kosh. None of the people lying around me moved.
"What's going to happen to them?" I barked at Kosh, who tilted his head once more. His voice was clearly audible, even through the storm around.
"They are not in danger. But they will forget."
"What do you mean? How much will they forget? Will they..." I paused, but felt the question was too important for me. "Will they forget us?" Bronx yipped as if wondering the same.
"Only their memories of this day will be altered. No one will remember the people in your company."
Something moved in the corridor behind Kosh. Something big and black. Bronx started growling.
"What-?"
"You must leave now." the Vorlon´s voice interrupted me. Slowly the black thing moved in our direction. It almost looked like a Shadow crawling towards us. My entrails performed a somersault.
"Kosh, there´s something-" The gargoyle was growling so hard now his whole body was shaking.
The mouthpiece of Kosh´s suit opened. A blue flash hit me in the chest and pushed me gently towards the vortex. Bronx lost his footing as well and fell in next to me, howling angrily. Before the entrance closed I heard a furious screech, then there was only the blue whirl pushing me through time and space.
The tunnel disappeared and I fell on soft ground. Mouth and nostrils full of grass blades I shook my head, sneezed and looked around. Only faint lights in a distance kept me from thinking I´d gone blind. A breeze touched my face and the sweetest air I´d ever breathed reached my lungs.
"Gesundheit."
Someone lifted me up. It took a moment until my eyes had gotten used to the darkness, then the beam of a flashlight shone directly into my face.
"Marie!" scolded the women´s voice I´d heard before. "Point that thing somewhere else."
"Sorry."
The light vanished and I opened my eyes again.
Storm was standing in front of me, covered in sparkling stars and with a concerned expression on her face.
"Are you alright?"
The sparkling stars faded away when I blinked and nodded.
"Yeah. What about the others?"
Bronx brushed against my knee and sniffed my hand as if to ask if I carried anything to eat. I ignored him. Storm smiled and pointed a few metres ahead, where a group of people was standing next to an old oak tree.
"They seem to be fine, too. We felt it wise to clear the area for you two."
I staggered forward, my head still a bit foggy. After a couple of metres Crash came running towards me.
"There you are! Did he say anything else?"
The fog cleared a little.
"Who?"
"Kosh!"
"Um...no, not really. But there was something behind him-"
We reached the others and my glance fell on the professor, who was just being lifted into his wheelchair by Scott and Logan.
Before I could ask he turned to me.
"That was a very...interesting experience."
Relief swept over me.
"You´re back!"
He smiled.
"The other personalities disappeared when we left the station. Much to my regret if I may add – I´d have loved to find out more about them."
Well, I sure was glad he didn´t, but rather kept my mouth shut.
"We can talk inside." Jean said firmly and waved to the mansion. Everybody moved in the direction she indicated. Logan looked at me quickly and I gave him a thumb-up. Seeing that everything was fine he merely nodded and turned back to Scott who'd just made some witty remark about him and needed a verbal punch.
Crash glanced at her watch and frowned, then caught my glance and walked over to me.
"50 minutes until take-off."
Surprised I raised an eyebrow.
"I thought you said it was always 24 hours."
"Well, yeah – for you. But since I didn´t jump through my portal, but used yours, my countdown didn´t stop. And I´m due in 50...no, in exactly 49 minutes."
There were so many questions I wanted to ask her, but by the time we'd arrived at the mansion we were surrounded by curious students and conversation of any kind was impossible.
It was only when we were sitting in the school's dining room that I remembered the circumstances that had led to our dimension jump in the first place.
Frowning I turned to Jean Grey.
"Where´s Magneto?"
She sighed.
"Back in prison. It took some effort to smooth things over, especially with the professor missing, but we managed. Mystique and the others got away, though."
Someone placed a bowl with rice and vegetables and a fork in front of me. All of a sudden my stomach forgot the black creature in the corridor and remembered that it had been ages since I´d last eaten a decent meal. After checking if Bronx had got something as well (he was wolfing down two giant steaks in a corner of the room) I began eating. Crash, sitting opposite of me, had already emptied her bowl and accepted another helping from Storm, who, grinning broadly, left two steaming salad bowls of food within easy reach of her and turned to the door to shoo away another couple of kids lingering around, hoping to find out what had happened.
At the other end of the long table Professor Xavier, Logan and Scott were talking quietly, filling each other in about the events since the portal had taken two of them away. Jean glanced at them, then to me.
"You don´t mind if I...?"
I shook my head, mouth full, and managed a "is alwight, we fine". She smiled and went over to join her colleagues. Storm walked by after closing the door, winked and took a chair next to her. Out of the corner of an eye I saw an ear appearing in the wooden door, but we were too far away for Kitty to hear anything.
Crash was well through her third helping and pushed the salad bowls to the side, facing me.
"He´s taller than I thought he would be." she said quietly.
Again her train of thoughts was far behind the next station before I could jump on.
"Huh?"
"Scott! Man, those shades look so cool!"
I swallowed my food.
"Um...right. Look, what I wanted to ask you before-"
"Shame he´s already got someone."
I forced myself not to look in the direction of the mutants at the end of the table in case Jean was picking up some of the thoughts behind these words.
"Yeah… About this whole portal thing-"
"Taking them with you was not a good idea." she stated matter-of-factly and fished a piece of meat out of the bowl. "It was an emergency. I had no other choice!" I replied irritated. She was doing this on purpose. Before she could open her mouth again, I quickly asked,
"Why 'Crash'?"
Seeing her at a loss made a pretty nice change.
"Why what?"
"Your name; Why are you called 'Crash'?"
"Oh, that." She grinned, reached for her backpack and pulled something out of a side pocket. It was a silver can of red spray paint. I examined it for a moment, then gave it back.
"Your sprayer's nickname?"
The can disappeared in her backpack.
"It´s called 'tag'." she said proudly. "That´s how I sign my artwork. And by the way..." she made a face, "...who wants to be called "Caroline" anyway?"
I didn´t think it was such a bad fate, but then almost everyone hates their names, don´t they?
"What´s going to happen now?" I demanded quietly. "What's this whole portal business about? Where do you come from? And how do you know so much about me and...well, everybody else?"
She threw a glance at the end of the table where the X-Men´s conversation continued and shook her head.
"Not here. Why don't we say goodbye and go for a walk? At least for another..." she checked her watch, "...10 minutes."
"You mean, before we go wherever you came from?"
Her grin lit her whole face.
"Don't tell me you're scared!"
Crash shrugged.
"We're just going ´round the block. In a couple of minutes we'll be 'off the street' anyway."
"But-"
Jean turned to look at the professor for help. He wheeled nearer to the main entrance. I leaned against the doorframe, feeling tired for the first time.
What a day. And apparently it wasn't over yet.
"You wouldn't consider resting a few hours and leaving tomorrow." It didn't sound like a question.
"No." came the prompt reply. "Sorry, Sir, but we need to go. Thank you for the meal."
"You're very welcome. If you're ever in the area, do drop by, please."
"Sure." Crash beamed at him, turned around and walked past me. Her friendly nudge in the ribs almost made me topple over. "C'mon, Lars is going to kill me if we're late!"
"Sounds like a real charmer." I managed through clenched teeth, then threw the group of mutants a strained smile.
"Sorry ´bout the whole dimensional mess."
Logan pushed Bronx´ paw away from his knee and hissed "Sod off!" out of the corner of his mouth. When he saw us leaving the gargoyle actually obeyed and came running after us. A dark smear on his cheek told the tale of a chocolate bar being transferred from the pocket of a leather jacket into a greedy muzzle.
Crash set a brisk pace until we'd left the premises. The street leading to the city was dimly lit and completely deserted. I enjoyed the fresh air once more. Only now, passing by a pine forest I realized how much I'd missed the spicy flavour of trees or the soft, moist breeze from the sea and I swore to myself that the next place I'd visit would not be a metal can in outer space, but some beautiful paradise of nature, with grass, flowers, trees and – above all – real air.
Suddenly the girl stopped and scanned the area. Alarmed I did the same. Everything was quiet.
"What is it?"
She shook her head and for an instant it looked as if it was covered in living snakes. Then the dreadlocks settled down again.
"Nothing. It's a good place to cross over. Just checking for late night strollers."
We continued the check in silence until Bronx sat next to me and leaned his head against my thigh, yawning loudly. A fit of laughter followed this unexpected noise in the semi darkness. When we weren´t gasping for air anymore Crash ruffled the gargoyle´s ears.
"You know, I´d love to see Bester´s face when he wakes up and finds the remains of his boot."
We stifled the new wave of laughter with our hands over our mouths, then looked around once more. Finally Crash turned to me.
"The coast is clear. Let´s go."
She raised her hand, concentrated and the same blue circle I had conjured earlier opened before us. Crash pointed at the vortex and raised her voice.
"Go on. I´ll be right behind you."
Bronx hopped forward without hesitation and disappeared. I took a few steps towards the portal, feeling the familiar sucking sensation. The first time I would use this thing without knowing where I´d land.
Actually, no, not the first time. I remembered a strange dialog
I don´t care. Somewhere safe. >
when leaving this place last time. And I certainly hadn't chosen Babylon 5 as my destination.
"What are you waiting for?" Crash urged from behind.
Well, this was not the only curious detail about the portal. If I was lucky I'd get some answers on the other side of the blue vortex in front of me. On the other hand there may just be a couple of tentacle monsters waiting for dinner in form of a tender human...
Grinning at myself for this and a few other strange thoughts I stepped forward and fell into the blue light.
Author´s note: Hard to believe, but I finally finished this story.
Champagne can be picked up at the right side of the buffet table, next to the caviar bowls. Please help yourselves. ;-)
Thanks for all the support during these months of writing, through writer´s block and stressful job situations. A big (BIG!) 'thank-you' to Obi, who stuck with me till the end. He did an awesome job correcting my spelling and grammar mistakes and even found time to give me an idea or two on the way! I said it before and will say it again:
YOURE THE BEST!!!
For those of you who are wondering about all the little things that don´t seem to fit I´m afraid you´ll have to wait for Chapter 8 (I know I told you the 'creature question' would be dealt with in this part, but it just didn´t work. Sorry, Olafur).
I hope you had a good time reading "Chris´ Chronicles, Chapter 7" and will be around for the next.
Take good care of yourselves,
Wyrd