Had she really heard that voice? Rahne turned to the others for confirmation, and found it through her nose – matching flickers of surprise shaded the two girls' scents.
Hello, Betsy replied, relaying her projection to the two younger girls. I'm Betsy Braddock. And these two are Teresa O'Rourke and Rahne Sinclair. We…
Let me guess…, the voice interrupted, heavy with sarcasm. You three are the poster girls for mutants in Britain. Come to show support for the freakish murdering mutant, have you? Jono's mental voice laughed bitterly. I must be privileged.
It wasn't deliberate, Betsy told him emphatically. I can tell that much. You shouldn't be facing a murder charge.
Reading my mind? He was silent for a second, and when he picked up again the tone had lost the edge of resentment. Instead it was flat, devoid of any emotion. Doesn't really matter, she's just as dead as if I had meant to do it. Isn't that right… Rahne?
She wanted to say something, anything in reply. But the boy's fatalistic reasoning was a little too close to some of the black thoughts that chased each other around in her head. Even if you didn't mean to do it, it wouldn't change the fact that a person, people, had died because of you. It wasn't something you could just make go away. She dropped her eyes guiltily, looking away from the piercing stare, but she could still feel his presence in her mind.
"Hey luv, heads up. Moira's about to give her evidence." Betsy whispered, breaking the awkward moment. Rahne followed her gaze to see her foster mother, tiny, inconsequential compared to the imposing surroundings of the courtroom, but sitting with an obvious inner composure that Rahne wished she could feel just a fraction of.
"You know what I'm wondering?" asked Teresa, as she stared intently at the scene below while Butler began his questions. "We just saw him opening the case for the defence – and now Moira's the first witness called. Why start with her? I mean, why isn't…."
Why isn't it me up there giving evidence? Jono asked. Something in the way it was phrased gave the question a sneering quality. Would've thought smart girls like you would've figured that out already. My testimony would be worth bugger all to a jury, even if I was allowed to give it.
Why? You're the defendant… you're not allowed to give testimony?
How would I give it? In case you hadn't noticed, I'm not really equipped to vocalise anymore – what would I do, speak into their heads? It'd scare them shitless - and anyway, it's against all the good old established customs of this 'esteemed and honourable' court.
But surely they can't deny you the right to speak for yourself? Teresa protested.
Quite the idealist, aren't you? In case you hadn't noticed in your cosy little protected life, the laws in this spiffing old country aren't set up to deal with mutants. He snorted. Anyway, who cares what they want to do? I certainly don't. There was something forced in the flippancy of that comment, Rahne thought – a thin veneer of cynicism overlying the emptiness of abject despondency. Jono had given up. She recognised the feelings of apathy.
So you can't talk anymore? Betsy asked, with typical bluntness. It seemed that he had enough control of his powers to keep her from prying through his mind for answers.
What would I talk with? This great bloody hole full of energy where my mouth should be? Rahne could feel his anger as irritation flared momentarily. Nope. Can't talk, can't eat, can't breathe – don't even have a pulse anymore, since I don't have a heart. Apparently he thought that idea was amusing, because he let out another mental snort. Must not be able to feel anything anymore if I don't have a heart, right? I've moved beyond that. I'm a 'mutant', he added in a singsong voice. The ideal prisoner: cheap to feed, doesn't make noise, doesn't get involved with all the other criminals – they're all too frickin scared to come near the guy with the gaping black hole where his chest should be…
But you could cover it up, couldn't you? Teresa asked.
What, is it too disturbing for you? You want me to wrap my face up with bandages so I don't go around scaring all you people with happy families and sensitive stomachs? I could do that, but it wouldn't change the fact that I'm not a whole person underneath the wrappings, would it? I'd still be broken – just a shell of someone who used to exist.
He was silent after that, and none of the girls felt up to the task of restarting the conversation. Instead, Rahne found her attention drawn back to the court proceedings, where Moira was in the midst of explaining something.
"...Expression of the active form of the x-gene usually begins some time during adolescence – but the emergence of the phenotypic effects, or 'mutant powers' stemming from the gene may be delayed in a particular individual. A number of factors influence the onset of active powers – family history, physical trauma, and especially emotional stress. But the correlation is far from perfect – it is still impossible to predict when and how a mutation will manifest, especially for the individual concerned. They do not expect to be suddenly gifted with abilities, they do not understand what is happening to them, and at the moment of manifestation they almost certainly will not have any control over their new found abilities."
"Would you say that the blast on the afternoon of June 15th marked the first manifestation of Jonathon Starsmore's powers?" asked Butler.
"I think that considering the rather obvious physical impact Jonathon's power has had on him, his abilities would have been noticed if they had emerged earlier," Moira replied dryly, although the irony seemed mostly lost on the members of the jury. Rahne noticed a number of shudders as they looked over at the boy in the dock.
"So in your professional opinion, Dr MacTaggert, Jonathon Starsmore could not have been in control of the blast that killed Gayle Edgarton?"
"Exactly."
Butler turned to the jury. "On the day of Gayle's tragic death, Jonathon Starsmore had no idea he even possessed such destructive abilities, much less how to use them. The blast could not have been deliberate – Jonathon did not intend to harm Gayle, and therefore he cannot be found guilty of murder."
As Edward Carson rose to begin cross-examining Moira, Rahne noticed the shaft of hatred she had smelt earlier billow and intensify, identifying the Crown Prosecutor as its source. He strode toward the witness stand with all the poised malevolence of a vulture descending on its prey. "Mrs MacTaggert…," he began.
"Dr," Moira snapped automatically.
"Of course, Dr MacTaggert. Please accept my apologies," Carson continued smoothly. Too smoothly – the slip had been deliberate, Rahne decided; an attempt to colour the jury's perceptions of her foster mother's expertise. "Dr MacTaggert," he continued carefully emphasising the title with the merest hint of mockery, "you say that the manifestation of mutant powers is often brought on by emotional stress?"
"That is correct."
"Emotional stress – stress brought on by difficult emotional situations – such as an argument with a loved one, perhaps?" He barely waited for Moira's reluctant nod before continuing to address the jury. "You've already heard testimony that describes the problems in the defendant's relationship with the victim. He becomes increasingly frustrated with Gayle, his girlfriend, as she is apparently failing to listen to him. He grows angry at her – angry enough to harm her perhaps? But before he can take any action on these feelings, they take action for him through his powers…."
"Yes, but that's why we need to put in place systems that can identify and provide support for young people who possess the X-gene…," Moira began, but the Crown Prosecutor bore over her.
"This trial is not about changes to social policy, Dr MacTaggert. It's about guilt. You say that on manifestation, no mutant can control his powers, is that correct?" "Yes."
"And yet we are supposed to go about our business as if mutants did not exist? To let these 'people' who are essentially loaded weapons walk around in our midst?"
"In my experience, 99% of mutants can be taught to have full control over their powers."
"99% can be taught to have full control over their powers," he repeated, a dangerous smile lighting his face. "And what about the other 1%? What can we do about them?" And here the smile took on a particularly nasty light which matched the contemptuous glint in his eyes. "What would you do with a mutant who was unable to bring their destructive powers under control if that mutant presented a danger to society? Speaking as a researcher of course… would you consider terminating them?"
Moira said nothing in reply, which puzzled Rahne. But she smelled a flash of outrage from Betsy. "That bastard," the older girl swore, under her breath. Rahne turned to her friend, and saw Teresa, whose hearing was also enhanced, giving the telepath a questioning glance as well, but no explanation was forthcoming.
"Excuse me your honour, but what is the relevance to this line of questioning?" Butler asked. "It bears no relation to the matter at hand."
"True – get to the point, Counsel," the judge intoned.
"My apologies once again," Carson replied smoothly, the smile still curving his lips. "Indeed, the matter at hand – is Jonathon Starsmore guilty of murder?"
"It should be obvious that Jonathon Starsmore is not guilty of murder for an accident which he had no control over," Moira rejoined.
"Accident? You're remarkably blasé about the tragic and horrific death of a bright and talented seventeen year old girl, Dr MacTaggert. Are you suggesting that because a mutant killed Gayle Edgarton, the Court should not concern itself with her death?"
"Of course not," she replied scornfully.
"And yet, when Gayle Edgarton was killed, you and your partner Sean Cassidy attempted to have the mutant who killed her removed from police custody to a private facility for mutants in the middle of nowhere, despite the fact that he had been arrested pending investigation of the charges? Do you have absolutely no respect for the legal system of this country, Dr MacTaggert, or do you merely believe that mutants are above the law?"
"Neither," Moira replied. "Agent Cassidy and I were merely concerned for people's safety – Jonathon Starsmore's most of all."
"And yet you were still ready to go against the law in your concern for this mutant's 'safety'." Carson turned toward the jury. "And here we see why this case is so crucial for our country – there is a tendency to believe that having superhuman powers puts people above the law. But these mutants are not 'superhumans', but dangerous weapons. They believe their powers elevate them above the rest of us – that the same rules do not apply to them. We must show them that this is not the case – we are all 'merely' human. We cannot have different laws for ordinary people and mutants!" He paused triumphantly. "No further questions, your Honour."
He's jealous of us. Rahne started at hearing Jono's voice again. Jealous, and afraid at the same time. He's got something planned though, I can see it.
What? She asked. What is it?
Who cares? He asked once again, voice utterly without concern, blank.
The voice faded out once more, leaving her shocked, but also with the first flickers of understanding. Jono really had given up, to the point where what happened to him didn't matter anymore. In her darkest moments, Rahne had never been that far sunk into apathy – she never wanted to be. And at that point, she resolved that she was going to work at her problems, and not be defeated by them.