Chapter Seventeen:
Quentin Travers was rubbing his eyes wearily as he walked through the halls of the Watcher's Council. The team returning from the United States would be giving him a full briefing on their findings when they arrived, but he had learned as much as he needed, as much as he wanted to know from the earlier phone conference with the elders.
He knew what he had to do next, but that certainly did not mean he was looking forward to it.
When Travers reached the end of the hall, he drew a swipe card from his pocket and ran in through a device attached to the wall. A soft chime indicated his authorization to enter, and the hidden elevator doors slid open. He stepped inside and pushed the button for the lower levels.
While the Council of Watchers did specialize in the study of magics, ancient texts and supernatural phenomena, they also maintain a solid understanding of mechanical technology. Strictly scientific pursuits were always encouraged as well as the metaphysical. The ancient creatures that occasionally became a threat to the world's balance usually had ways to defend themselves from magical or psychic attacks, but were utterly clueless about modern weaponry. Such as lasers, nuclear fission... or rocket launchers. Therefore, a good portion of the lower levels had become laboratories for those students and Watchers with a flair for science and technology.
Travers sighed heavily as the elevator reached its destination and opened to reveal a long hallway. His shoes clicked audibly against the metal floors as he walked forward. The lights were harsh and bright overhead, much different from the soft glow of expensive lamps used in the rest of the Council's headquarters. Travers turned one sharp corner and once again reached for his swipe card.
Another soft chime filled the air, and a large pair of doors hissed apart. Travers entered the room and glanced around critically. The space was immense, easily five stories in height from floor to ceiling with large metal staircases and ramps lining the walls. In the center of the room was a large metal sphere, given its form by dozens of square metal sheets which were held together by masses of intertwining wires. Positioned at the base of the sphere was a single metal chair, upon which sat an odd looking machine, designed specifically for one individual to wear.
"Quentin," a polite voice said from nearby, "Good morning..."
Travers turned, his hands clasped firmly behind his back, and looked slightly relieved when he saw who was speaking. Charles Xavier smiled at him politely, maneuvering his motorized wheel chair toward his visitor.
"Hello, Charles," Travers replied, "I'm surprised to see you down here this early..."
"Early..." Xavier repeated with questioning and then glanced at his watch and laughed, "Actually, for me it seems to have gotten quite late..."
"Here all night again, were you?" Travers jested with a grin, "If only our new students were as dedicated to their studies as we always were, eh?"
Xavier nodded, "Yes, well... we nearly have it functioning. I was hoping to run another test today. Please..."
On his last word, Xavier gestured for Travers to follow him down toward the bottom level of the room. Travers glanced at the machine again uncomfortably, knowing better than to put on a false act of approval in front of Xavier. The man was one of the Council's most powerful (if not the most powerful) psychic and putting on airs in front of him would have been pointless.
The room echoed as Xavier spoke again, "I believe we have located the initial problem we were having with the homing mechanism. The new adjustments should allow me to search for individuals from even greater distances than before. Not only sensing their presence in a general area but actually pinpointing their exact location just by their unique mental signature..."
"I heard your last test gave you quite a migraine," Travers remarked, his tone still friendly, as if sharing an old joke.
Xavier's face remained serious, "A small price to pay for the great advantages this machine will give us..."
"Indeed," Travers said, and then frowned up at the sphere, "What did you call it again?"
"Cerebro," a new voice called out from above, "Rather clever, don't you think?"
Travers struggled not to wince and shifted his attention to the man walking confidently down one of the metal staircases.
"Hello, Erik," Travers replied as the other man approached, "Good to see you again..."
Erik Lensherr returned the greeting with a polite, though slightly forced smile. It had never been a secret that Travers and Lensherr grated each others nerves, ever since their early years in training with the Council. Xavier always seemed either not to notice the tension between the two men or chose to ignore it, the latter being more logical considering his gifts, but he did prove to be a good buffer for their irritation during such conversations.
"Yes, welcome back," Lensherr replied, "Come down to check up on our little experiment?"
"Among other things..." Travers said and then turned back toward Xavier, "Actually, I might have a target for you to search for if you are interested in giving your Cerebro a real test."
"Oh, yes?" Xavier said, looking interested, "Possible potential?"
"No," Travers answered quickly, "Locating potential slayers is not my biggest concern right now. However, the target is a young woman of great power..."
"What sort of power?" Lensherr inquired, folding his arms over his chest.
"Great power," Travers replied firmly, not able to keep the annoyed glare out of his eyes. Lensherr did not react to the man's tone, but waited with practiced patience for him to continue.
"You believe she may have an active 'mutant' gene," Xavier said, not needed telepathy to know why Travers evaded Erik's question.
"We don't know that for certain," Travers said, though his tone suggested otherwise, "There is a chance her abilities could be artificial or she may even be part demon..."
"Which would be much preferred than her being a mutant," Lensherr interrupted with a dark frown, which Travers ignored.
"Do you have any other information about her?" Xavier asked curiously, "The more details I have, the easier it will be for me to identify her..."
"Last known sighting was in Chicago," Travers reported begrudgingly, "We suspect she can manipulate fire, and has used it to defend herself..."
"How do you know this?" Xavier asked with frustration as Travers danced around the truth.
Travers sighed, "The team dispatched to Colorado to investigate the disturbances there followed a lead to Chicago, where one of them intercepted her..."
"Someone actually witnessed her gifts?" Lensherr asked with undisguised approval, "Who may I ask..."
"Jeremiah Malloy," Travers answered before Erik finished. Lensherr nodded and smiled, suddenly understanding why Travers seemed especially irritated this morning.
"I see," Xavier said, "And where is the team tracking her now?"
"They're not," Travers said firmly, "They've been ordered back."
"For God's sake, why?" Lensherr interjected, "If this child does have these powers, she should be brought here..."
"The elders have made their decision in this matter," Travers said, giving Lensherr a warning look, "They feel it is in the best interest of the Council not to pursue her any further..."
Lensherr moved to speak again, the anger obvious in his hard eyes, but Xavier sent him a mental message to pause.
"If that is their decision," Xavier said, "Then we will honor it. But I think we have the right to know why. Especially considering that you are requesting that I use Cerebro to locate her..."
"The elders want to be sure that she is not a direct threat to anyone," Travers said, "You will get an impression of her intentions if your machine works as you say it can."
"I should be able to reach her mind, yes, but..." Xavier said, and then paused, "...what if I do deem her a threat?"
"Then the proper authorities will be notified," Travers said darkly, "As I said, the Council has otherwise deemed the matter closed. Let me know when you have prepared for your test..."
Travers began to walk away, and Lensherr watched him go with suspicion. Xavier rubbed his temple and sighed. They were both growing tired of Council politics and their attitude toward most matters. Once Travers exited the lab, Lensherr turned toward Xavier, his face a mask of suspicion.
"Proper authorities..." Lensherr muttered with disgust, "We're getting more reports like this everyday. Gifted individuals whom the Council disregards because of this genetic anomaly they're so determined to ignore. The one we also possess, may I remind you..."
"I understand your frustration, Erik," Xavier replied, "But be assured by your own work instead of worrying about the elders' restrictions. I'm certain the Cerebro will also be able to single out those with the 'mutant' gene, so the Council will be able to see that it is more than a passing phenomenon..."
"Their inaction is what frustrates me, Charles," Lensherr said, "We have two dozen departments dedicated to the study of the Golath prophecies, written in a language that has been dead for two thousand years, and we pass off gifted individuals existing now to the proper authorities..."
"And that is exactly who has the elders nervous..." Xavier replied thoughtfully.
"What do you mean?" Lensherr asked with a frown.
"The authorities..." Xavier explained, "Quentin was not talking about the police, or fire department in this young woman's case. He was talking about something much more dangerous... the one thing he couldn't keep out of his mind, no matter how hard he was trying..."
Charles Xavier looked up at Erik Lensherr and spoke two words that explained everything.
"Lot 6."
