Technically, Magneto cannot fly; without metal around in some form or another, he was powerless. His suit was made of a very finely woven metal mesh, and he wore a helmet in the ancient Spartan style. It had a T-shaped opening that showed his eyes, nose, mouth, and chin. His blue-grey eyes were glacial, and as he drifted down to stand before me on the walkway, he regarded me as if I were some specimen of bacillus mounted on a slide for study.
I was exhausted in more ways than one, tired, filthy, and at a loss, with nothing left in my bucket of chemicals or my bag of tricks. Or did I have something left after all?
He was powerful, true, and he was one of the world's foremost authorities on genetics and mutation, which meant he was well-educated and intelligent. I should not have to prevent him from killing me for very long—just for long enough. The three hours, give or take a quarter, before Victor could arrive had nearly elapsed.
I had to get him talking. What did I know of Magneto, beyond that he had sneered at me and refused to hire me three years ago? He hated ordinary humans, he had two children who were a few years older than I was, he was old enough to be my grandfather—and he was a holocaust survivor. I could work with that.
It was a very strange thing that a holocaust survivor, a former inmate of the concentration camps, should adopt the attitudes of his former captors so thoroughly…
"You are nothing at all as I expected." he said, without greeting or preamble. "I thought that your allure might be more evident in person than it was in the broadcast announcing your engagement, but even taking into account that you are dirty and disheveled, I still fail to see your attractions."
"What were you expecting?" I asked. If he remembered me at all from our previous meeting, he gave no sign of it.
"Not a fairly ordinary, if over-tall, young woman with a defiant chin. You're not bad-looking, but at best, I would describe you as—striking. Yes, that's the word. Striking. In fact, you're almost plain. If you were some heavenly, ethereal creature, or a deliriously seductive enchantress—but you're not."
"I never pretended I was. What an interesting example of the double standard. Despite the fact that Victor has a face that he will not show to anyone, you're talking about how I would have to be prettier to meet your idea of a woman he would conceivably marry."
"He has money and power. Such things are well known for their ability to inspire the affections of—."
"More attractive women than I? Perhaps you should ask Victor himself why, when he gets here. You're not what I expected, either." I threw in, trying to catch him off balance.
"Am I not?" he asked. "And how so?"
"I would have thought you'd have told me why you are planning on killing me by now." I said it very softly, keeping my voice low. I let my arms hang down tiredly, emphasizing how powerless I was. I might not be entirely human by Magneto's standards, but I was an unarmed woman, and his cultural conditioning out to make him pause before he violated that taboo. "Why must I die? What did I do? If Victor did something to you or yours, I am innocent of it."
"It is not what you have done, but what will happen if you marry him. No less than three persons who can foresee the future have predicted…" He fell silent.
"Predicted what?" I prompted.
"That it will be the end of the world—as we know it. You yourself are unimportant. It is what you represent."
"Was that what they said when they sent your family to the death camp?"
"What?" he asked, taken aback.
"Was your mother unimportant? When her ashes fell from the sky like flakes of bitter snow after she was murdered and cremated, what did she represent then?"
"Very good. You know some history. Then you will understand that what I do, I do to prevent that from happening once again. The mutants will not be so readily slaughtered."
"Yet you would accomplish this by visiting the same fate on others."
"What a remarkable voice you have. If I were to listen only to the tone, I would think you were stroking the ear with feathers, but if I listen to the words, it turns out to be a razor. Never mind. I can guess what you are getting at; you are trying to talk me out of killing you. You needn't bother."
"Is--is my life over, then?"
"No. Your fiancé has done something which makes it impossible for me to harm a hair on your head." He said it sourly. "I would not be swayed by any ordinary threat, and he knew it. He could swear himself my mortal enemy until he was blue in the face, and I would pay no heed. If he declared war on Genosha and threatened to raze it down to bare rock, I would laugh at him."
Magneto's voice was getting louder as he explained how immune he was to ordinary threats. "But what he decided to do is an outrage. It is the dirtiest trick I have ever had played on me. I am hamstrung. I am shackled. It is very nearly beyond my power to comprehend. It violates every convention—!"
"What did he do?" I asked, relaxing a little.
"He bought up every scrap of Genoshan national debt!" Magneto shouted. "He says he'll call in every last penny, and make sure I cannot sign for any others. I cannot fight that! He would watch an entire country starve to death slowly if you cease to breathe. That is what he did!"
I was dumbstruck for a moment. I only thought I had admired and respected Victor up until this point, in comparison to what I now felt. He had taken the entire country of Genosha financially hostage for my sake. That was brilliant. It was bold, daring, original, uniquely potent—and sustainable.
Magneto was still complaining. "I don't know what he thinks he's about. That is not how these things are done."
"You're whining to the wrong woman." I said. "Does the kidnapping of an innocent woman and the murder of two bodyguards and a driver fit into how things are done? No doubt it does. After all, they weren't mutants, and were therefore insignificant—just like your parents were. But let someone come up with a check-mating move that is as non-violent as it is unsuspected, and you get upset that he isn't playing by the rules."
He glared at me. "I did not kill, nor order killed, your attendants. That was Malice's doing."
"But you were her superior. You are responsible by association."
"Be silent, woman!" he roared at me.
"I have no idea why you think I'd obey you. How thoroughly you absorbed the Nazi attitude! I've heard your speeches. Substitute 'Aryan' for 'Mutant', and they could have come right out of Hitler's mouth. You shouldn't blame yourself, though—it's a common psychological survival tactic known as Stockholm Syndrome, where a hostage starts to identify with his captors. Sufficient psychoanalysis—counseling and therapy— should be able to help you."
I don't think many people disagree with Magneto—not to his face, at any rate. His features darkened and twisted. He drew back his arm, preparing to strike me.
"Don't." said Victor. How he managed to sneak up on us, I'll never know.
Magneto was worked up into a blinding rage. He turned, and swung at Victor instead, which was not a bright move. The battle was joined.
I threw myself flat as the property damage began. Seeing that Victor wears armor—thick, solid metal armor—one would think that he would be particularly vulnerable to Magneto's powers. There is a way of de-magnetizing metal while allowing it to retain its strength and durability, and although it was expensive and time-consuming to make, his armor was made entirely of that.
Of the two combatants who flung power bolts and blows, who deflected and parried the advances of the other, Magneto was the angrier. With his ability to shape and manipulate magnetic fields, both natural and artificial, he could lift and hurl many tons of weight at a time—if there was something metallic about them. He also could affect electromagnetic radiation and energy, and had some psychic abilities as well. But he was twice Victor's age, which made a difference in his basic physical abilities.
Victor had extremely advanced, virtually impregnable armor with a lot of functions built into it—for example, the suit computers could sense, track, and predict where and when the next attack would come. It also had a force field generator and concussion blasters, as well as other weaponry built into it, a nearly inexhaustible arsenal of technology that was beyond cutting edge.
Mind you, he could only lift about two, two and a half tons with it on.
The outcome of their conflict was never in any doubt.
"Victor, he is a senior citizen." I pointed out. "Old bones take forever to heal."
"Is that a suggestion, or a plea for clemency on his behalf?"
"For physical mercy. He won't be able to answer questions very readily if you break his jaw."
"There is that to be taken into consideration." Victor admitted graciously. "Very well. You have explanations to make. I will hear them now. Why did you abduct my bride?" He lowered the older man to the ground.
TBC….
A/N: Hello, Chantrea! Cambodia...Now you really have me excited. I think I might have readers on every continent except Antarctica! Thank you. Yes, I put real-world chemistry into the story. That is really what would happen if you mixed lye with ammonia, especially in an unventilated space.
GothikStrawberry: Ah, just wait! The intriguing part is what he remembers that she doesn't! ( and thank you.)