Every member of the X-men gathered in the lab within minutes. Equipment, wires, boards, and unidentifiable "stuff" littered one of the tables. A half-filled coffeepot sat on an active burner some feet away, along with a spill-proof mug and the debris of several meals. For once, the printer stood idle and devoid of printout. Kitty would always make printouts before she was done. Whatever she discovered on the hard drives they brought back had her so excited that she was forgoing her usual procedure.
She sat at the computer table, activating certain windows as she talked. Above her on the wall, a larger projection of that same screen made sure everyone had a chance to see.
"Okay, okay, this is the first thing I found," she said rapidly. "The email account. You're not gonna believe all this stuff."
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---- Original Message ----
From: Brodemier, Matthiew
Sent: Friday, April 2, 2004 7:02 AM
To: command ops
Subject: Chain of command
Spindler;
Romor has it that Larry has been removed from the command structure, but he's denying the whole thing. Is this true? My guys are getting antsy. You know how Larry gets; he makes Stryker look like an altar boy. Have you sene the flame he's slinging around? We have to have somthing in writing to get him to lay off.
---- Original Message ----
From: command opsSent: Monday, April 5, 2004 2:34 PM
To: Brodemier, Matthiew
Subject: RE: Chain of command
We're still looking into it. It doesn't look good for him, right now. The panel's leaning towards punting Larry off the tree.
---- Original Message ----
From: Brodemier, Matthiew
Sent: Monday, April 12, 2004 7:22 AM
To: command ops
Subject: RE: Chain of command
Spindler, what's the decision, here? Can Larry be trusted or not? Everyone needs to know ASAP.
---- Original Message ----
From: command ops
Sent: Thursday, April 15, 2004 10:43 AM
To: Brodemier, Matthiew
Subject: RE: Chain of command
Matt,
Spread this down the pipe. Larry is OUT of the loop. End of discussion. And in case he gives you grief, shove this in his face:
To all field operatives:
After a thorough review of the Westchester Disaster, it has been decided that Harold Trask is no longer to be trusted in the command chain for combat operations. Though his zeal is commendable, his drive to eliminate the enemy has resulted in his making rash decisions. Henceforth, he is to focus entirely on research and development.
Derek Spindler
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Logan gave something between a snort and a chuckle. "Real professional, there. Whoever this Larry is, sounds like he's a real primadonna."
Professor Xavier's voice was stern to the point of anger. "Harold Trask is an old associate of William Stryker, but while William stayed in the government, Harold went into the private sector. I haven't even heard his name in years."
"I looked this guy up, and he's like the Howard Hughes of the defense world," Kitty said quickly, turning around in her seat. "He does all this great R and D, he's got more money than God, but, like, no one ever sees him. He owns huge shares of Lockheed, Boeing, ADF, and God knows what else, and he's always doing contracting, but it's all done electronically. He just never sees anyone."
"Howard Hughes?" Piotr asked.
"Rich genius nutcase, did all this great airplane stuff in the 30s, went all hermit on the rest of the world before he died," Kitty explained. She barely took a breath between sentences, and her voice started to tremble. "Man, 'Westchester Disaster', you think it could be more obvious? He must have ordered that attack on us!" She spun again and called up another window. "Here's another one. This one is so gonna piss you off."
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---- Original Message ----
From: Angel
Sent: Wednesday, December 17, 2003 11:32 AM
To: R&D Feedback
Subject: detector
you asked for us to say something and here it is this thing sux. It always nevr works right its always stoping and starting. We have hell ofa time catching any with it.
---- Original Message ----
From: Mr. Sinister
Sent: Wednesday, December 17, 2003 1:54 PM
To: Brodemier, Matthiew
Subject: RE: detector
Matthiew,
Neither Harold nor I can make adjustments to the equipment unless we know exactly what the problems are. Your partner's comments are not specific enough. Please clarify.
---- Original Message ----
From: Brodemier, Matthiew
Sent: Thursday, December 18, 2003 9:13 PM
To: Mr. Sinister
Subject: RE: detector
Mr. Sinister,
Please accept my opologies. This will be the last time I have Angelou give a status report.
1) Tho the detector could pick up active use of the xgene, it could not detect passive use. This severely limits its potential to hunting down active targets, who ar much more likely to cause casualties than those caught by surprise.
2) Sometimes the detector will "stick". Example: when the control mutant was killed during active power use, it was still registered as active. This will waste a lot of time in the field, trying to hunt down a target that's already dead.
3) The "handheld" prototype is so fragile that I wouldn't trust it outside of the lab. It will not survive being dropped, let alone battle. Also, it tends to "drop out" often when compared with the mobile units.
On the plus side, the emanations from Larry's Sentinels no longer interfere with the signals. In the future, we should be able to send them after targets and track them in real time, instead of programming in advance.
---- Original Message ----
From: Mr. Sinister
Sent: Wednesday, December 17, 2003 1:54 PM
To: Brodemier, Matthiew
Subject: RE: detector
Matthiew,
1) Currently, there is no way to detect an inactive xgene short of a blood or DNA analysis. I am working to rectify this in the future.
2) This is an interesting problem. Did resetting the device work, or did it stay active for a longer time? It could be that the emanations from the target's gene persisted after its demise.
3) I realize that the handheld model is fragile. Future rebuilds will strengthen it. What percentage of dropouts were in evidence?
---- Original Message ----
From: Brodemier, Matthiew
Sent: Thursday, December 18, 2003 9:13 PM
To: Mr. SinisterSubject: RE: detector
Mr. Sinister,
For question 2, yes, resetting did fix the problem, but we can't keep rebooting after every shot. For question 3, it semed that the signals randomly dropped out half the time.
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Kurt's mouth went dry as the words, and their horrible implications, sank in. He crossed himself three times. It was as if he was reading a communiqué from Dr. Mengele.
"Oh my Lord," Rogue whispered. "Oh my dear, sweet Lord."
"I mean, look at this!" Kitty screamed. "They killed someone to test this thing out, and they're talking like they blew a bulb! Someone fucking died!"
"You know who this 'Sinister' guy is, too, Chuck?" Logan asked quietly.
Charles shook his head, his gaze still fixed on the letter. "I have never heard this pen name before, not even in passing."
"This thing has FOH everywhere," Kitty went on, pointing to the hard drive in question. "Half the email goes right through their domain. I salvaged enough to hunt these bastards down."
"Catherine, you've been working far too long already--" Charles started.
A tear trickled down her cheek. "No! No! I'm serious, here! I can do this! Right now! I-I've got the codes--!"
Now everyone else was attempting to calm her with their words. They spoke, they reached out, they tried to comfort. In response, her face reddened and her voice picked up in volume and pitch
"We can't just let them do this!" she screamed, her voice cracking. "We can't let them use us like lab rats! We can't let them find a way to kill us in our beds and herd us into camps!"
Kitty was so intelligent, so mature and responsible, that it was easy to forget she was not yet fourteen. As she began to break down, that youth suddenly became all too apparent. Scott covered the distance in two steps and grabbed her by her shoulders, with Piotr close behind.
"Kate, look at me," Scott ordered. "Do you honestly think we're just going to sit on this while you get some rest? Do you think I don't know my way around a recovered hard drive?" When she tried to protest, he shook her once and continued, "No arguments. You're exhausted. You get tired, you make mistakes. You did everything we couldn't do. Let someone else do the rest."
She grimaced and turned away, tears streaming from both eyes. "I'm sorry. I-I just... I shouldn't be... going to pieces like this...." In a faint whimper, "They took pictures."
Scott turned off the monitor with his elbow. Both overhead and primary screens went black. Piotr mumbled something in Russian as he gently took her from Scott. As Scott relinquished her, she curled up in Piotr's arms.
"They... they took pictures... a-and they... drew on them... like they were m-magazine ads...," she sobbed. "They made... word bubbles... and drew stuff... on someone's body...."
Piotr held the girl close as her strength dissolved, literally cradling her in his arms.
"I'll take her upstairs," Piotr said quietly.
Xavier motioned for Piotr to draw near. As he did so, the professor put his hand on the back of Kitty's head. Her sobs slowed, then stilled altogether. Soon she was asleep.
"I should never have let her push herself this hard," Xavier whispered. "If I had even an inkling of what images she would find there, I would never have allowed her to view them." He stroked her hair gently as he pulled his hand away. "Someone with a coarse and juvenile sense of humor 'adjusted' some of the research photographs with the electronic equivalent of a felt-tipped pen." He shook his head with a pained expression. "The callous nature of those pictures is disgusting on any level. It didn't help that one was a nude girl defaced with swastikas."
"Swastikas." Logan rubbed his eyes, as if tired. "Bet the guy I saw in the van did it. He had one tattooed onto the side of his head, couple more on his arms. Looked like a stereotypical skinhead."
"Why do we keep running into these kinds of people?" Kurt asked. "We find them in Virginia, we find them in those suits, we find them here…."
"Hatred works in cycles, Kurt," Xavier answered softly. "The same sort who would join the Nazis or the Ku Klux Klan would also be attracted to hating mutants. It's all about defining yourself by your enemies."
"After all, it's 'safe' to hate us now," Bobby muttered, looking away. "We're a threat to human race, right? You say the 'n' word and you'll have people calling you a racist. Say the 'm' word and you're just some patriot worried about national security. They'll give you a medal or something."
"Or elect you to office," Rogue added.
Xavier rotated his chair to address the two teenagers directly. "Before you go too far down that path, I want you to consider something else. The government knows we're here. They've seen most of the people in this room, they know exactly where we live, and thanks to Stryker's files they have an excellent idea of what we can do. Have they come after us again, now that Stryker himself is gone?"
Bobby glanced at Logan. "They'd be kind of stupid to do something like that again."
Xavier's tone was a bit sharper. "But if they bombed this area from above, we would have no defense. None at all. They could do that, Bobby. And if they considered us the kind of threat that Stryker and Trask obviously did, they would have. Keep that in mind before you damn too many with that label."
Uncomfortable silence settled on the room while everyone looked at each other. No one was willing to speak. Scott sat down at the computer and flicked the monitor back into operation, then took pains to turn off the overhead screen.
"Everyone, I think you should consider clearing out," he said. "Because like it or not, someone has to pick through this hard drive. And that includes looking at those pictures for clues…."
"Are you certain you won't need any help, Scott?" Charles asked.
"I think two of us with nightmares will be enough," he muttered as he began his work.
"If nothing else, Katya needs to rest," Piotr said softly. "You will call me when you have more information, da?"
"Count on it, Colossus," Scott called over his shoulder.
At the mention of his code name, Piotr hesitated at the doorway. He looked back to Scott. "You think we are going into combat soon?"
"There's the possibility."
Piotr nodded. Steel flickered behind his dark eyes. Then he carried the girl out of the medlab. Scott glanced back over his right shoulder.
"Move it, everyone. Don't make it into an order."
Logan moved towards the door, albeit reluctantly. "Fuck it. I need a belt and a smoke before I go out and shred something."
Rogue and Bobby followed quickly, and the room began to empty. After a few seconds, Scott felt that he was alone. Except.... He glanced back to see Ororo still standing there, looking over his shoulder.
"I thought I told you--"
"Scott, this isn't something that's efficient to do solo, and you know it," she interrupted testily. "You need as many people to pick up visual clues as you can get."
"If I wanted help in something like this, I would have asked for Logan."
"He already gave the kids 'permission' to leave. And don't you go treating me like the kids, either. I spent a very long time in places that qualify as war zones. Are you familiar with the fine tradition of 'necklacing'? Where they put a tire filled with gas around your neck and light it?"
"That's a hell of a lot different from vivisection shots."
"It's still death for the sake of feeding egos. Only the excuses differ. Mobs claim 'justice' and scientists do it to 'better mankind'." She pulled up a seat, effectively cementing her position by his side. "You know this means they have a lab somewhere, and there's certain to be victims we'll need to rescue. And if we don't get to these damn things now, we'll have a hell of a time convincing ourselves to do it later. You know that."
Dammit. Yes, he knew that. And, yes, technically she was right: two sets of eyes were better than one. If they were going to find this abattoir before more "test subjects" died, he had to set his personal feelings aside and let her help. He had to remind himself that Storm didn't need his protection. That she wasn't Jean. Not by a longshot. He entered some simple commands to search for any picture-format formats on the drive.
"You know that Bobby was right, don't you?" Ororo asked softly as the search continued.
He stared straight ahead at the screen. "Yeah. Yeah, I know. He's too damn perceptive sometimes."
There weren't many of those files to look through. The bulk of them were in a folder with the disturbing label "fun stuf". Scott slowly inhaled and released a steadying breath before clicking on the first one. Both looked briefly away as the rudely-adjusted jpeg filled the screen.
"Goddess…," she hissed.