Chapter 6 – Seek
The auditorium buzzed with a strange and new energy. The high school in Batsto Village had never been so full, people crowding every free space because there weren't enough chairs. The locals knew outsiders were visiting, New York City big-types that were sure to cause a stir, no matter what they had to say. But in the Pine Barrens word traveled fast, and anyone who could crowded the town high school to hear about them, to hear about the mutants.
A decorated lectern had been set up on the stage. A single banner was draped over it, bearing the emblem of an eagle with its wings spread and the letters F.O.H. in bold capitals.
"So, these are all, like, mutant haters?"
"Kitty!"
"What? Am I exaggerating?"
Jean sighed, scanned the faces of those around. Young and old, curious or potential zealot, the locals crowded about with obvious excitement. "Most of these people don't know what's this really about," she said. "We have to give them that much credit, at least."
'Kitty huffed, bending down to pick up a pamphlet that had fallen to the dusty floorboards. "'The Friends of Humanity,'" she read out loud. "'Fighting for the rights of Ordinary People. Mutants pose an immediate threat to our future. They have powers that normal people do not and therefore have an unfair advantage in every aspect of life. Do not let them infringe upon your civil liberties, your God-given rights. Do not let them overpower you with their unnatural abilities. We must band together to ensure a bright future of an untainted gene pool.'… Wow. I can't believe it. This is totally—"
"Marvelous!" A large burly man snatched Kitty by the shoulder, giving her a proud shake, "Someone's got to look out for us normal folk!"
"Uh huh…" She twisted away, narrowing her eyes.
"No mean to offend, lil' one!" the man said. He grinned through a thick mustache. "Just always nice to see young folk taking up the right causes!" After giving her a hearty pat on the back, he went to join his friends, a group of men and women who took up three rows of seats.
Kitty scowled, rubbing her sore shoulder, "Did he have to, like, squeeze that hard? Big crazy townie. God, I wish I gone with Logan to HQ instead…"
"Shush, Kit. Come on." Jean pulled her aside as a man stepped onto the stage. "It's beginning."
The entire hall quieted as a man took the stage. He was dressed modestly in jeans, a flannel shirt, and brown leather jacket. He smiled gregariously, adjusted the microphone to his liking. When he opened his mouth, every whisper died, every eye moved to rapt attention.
"Now you may all be wondering what I'm doing here. You may think that I am a politician…." His eyes projected warmth as he scanned the crowd, "But that is false. I am no politician. I am one of you. And I represent a group of people dedicated to your well-being: the Friends of Humanity. Our name is fitting to our cause. I need say no more about it – if you're curious, you can read the literature we've handed out.
"I've come here for one reason. For you. I've come to let you know that we are thinking about you, a small town in New Jersey. Because I believe – the Friends of Humanity believe – you are important in our work. Every individual, unique person.
"I've come here on behalf of our leader, Mr. Graydon Creed…"
A small burst of applause and whistling came from a part of the crowd, the three rows occupied by what seemed like the most enthusiastic of the bunch. Some Batsto Village locals cast them frowns for rudeness, others wide-eyed interest.
"… and he wants each and every one of you to know that the Friends of Humanity will not let mutants run your world. We are looking out for you. And how will we do that, you wonder? For starters, we are working to ensure the passing of the Mutant Registration Act. And when this act comes to referendum—we need your help in making sure the effort is a success. Some mutants can control fire, read your mind, walk through walls…"
Kitty bristled. Jean put a hand on her shoulder.
"…steal your precious things, hurt your family and friends… We deserve to know who they are and where they are. The Mutant Registration Act must become law….."
"I don't want to listen to this anymore," Kitty whispered. She looked around at those staring in rapt attention at the man's speech. Back in Bayville, back in high school, she hadn't really let anti-mutant attitudes get to her. But here, in what seemed like a bubble town disconnected from the complications of the wider world and its hate, it reached. And people like the Friends of Humanity were trying to make it fester and explode. Her stomach had tied itself into knots, her muscles tense with the urge to run away. Far away. She could see that people were eating up the sensationalist speech, believing every word, forming judgmental thoughts.
"Why didn't Graydon Creed come by himself if he loves 'normal people' so much?" she muttered.
Jean shook her head, "He's probably too busy with affairs in New York."
"We didn't even have to come here."
"No, we did. At least we know the type of message they're sending to people now. These things aren't publicized that well. It's apparent that they're really trying to reach into every nook and cranny, gathering as many supporters at possible. We should get a list…"
"…of places they plan to hit on this messed up campaign," Kitty scowled. "Be right back."
Jean nodded. "I'll meet you outside."
The two young women moved at the same time, Jean toward the exit, a pamphlet in hand for documentation.
Moving nondescriptly through the crowd, Kitty worked her way toward the side door to the left of the stage. No one took notice as she opened it and walked through. The high school was built after a simple model. Through one corridor she found the backstage area.
Voices. Two people in conversation, both women.
Kitty pressed herself against shadowed wall. The backstage area was poorly lit, only a few lamps on. From the stage, the Friends of Humanity spokesperson continued speaking, bright lights pouring onto him like sunshine.
"…it will take all our efforts, each and every vote…"
The two women stood near the curtain, one wearing a wide-brimmed hat and trench coat, her back turned. She sounded impatient. "…annoying enough as it is to come all the way out to the boonies, you should realize."
"I'm sorry ma'am," the other woman said. She wore a plain suit and clutched a clipboard with several papers on it. One was formatted as a grid and looked like a timetable. Her blond hair was pulled back into a tight bun, openly showing her nervous face. "There must have been some miscommunication. Our branch has been moving east in the campaign and Mr. Creed said we were to rendezvous in Atlantic City."
"Well, aren't you just a busy little bee, lady," the other woman said. There was something familiar about her voice. "I heard differently. Maybe I can take this up with Graydon to see what he thinks."
"Please, ma'am, I didn't… we're a little short-staffed. It's an honest mix-up—"
"No. I don't think so." The woman stepped toward the stage, stared at the spokesperson as he continued on.
"…make sure to do your duty as a human being to keep the mutants at bay…"
As she turned around, Kitty's eyes widened. Her face was familiar, from the green of her lips to lime of her long hair. In a few seconds, Kitty remembered. But this young woman was nothing like the bubbly girl she'd known from two years ago, the one that stole Bobby Drake's heart and never really gave it back.
Lorna Danes sneered at the campaign manager, "You had a simple task. A simple delivery. Are you telling me you can't even be a good delivery girl—even as you're standing here as a branch manager to this silly little campaign of yours? We thought this would be the safest, most surreptitious, and easiest way to get this to me. But you're just giving me a headache." Her young face projected an older persona, one that seemed to have done and seen more than her years should have allowed.
"I…I have the package. Back in my hotel. I can fetch it for you now…"
"You couldn't have said this sooner? Go. Now. You're already too slow."
The frazzled woman walked away quickly, digging into her purse for car keys. In her hurry, she didn't notice Kitty's hand reach from the shadows and in seconds, phase through her body, to the clipboard, and phase the campaign schedule out of her possession.
Kitty tucked the paper into her jacket, mind spinning, wondering how in the hell Lorna Danes ended up here working with the Friends of Humanity of all people and how messed it was but at least it filled in some missing information since she disappeared so abruptly from the Institute making Bobby a worried mess and how the Professor couldn't locate her—
"I know you're there."
Kitty froze, spun around to meet a fold-out chair as it slammed into her side. The wind was knocked out of her as she flew against the opposite wall. Groaning in pain, she lifted herself slowly from the floor.
"Now I don't know who you are, but I don't like being spied on."
Struggling to get air back in her lungs, Kitty felt herself being lifted by the zippers of her jacket, by the metal buttons of her jeans. What the…Magneto…?
"And you're going to tell me what you're doing here." She turned Kitty to face her, green lips curving into a malicious sneer.
"Oh, God," Kitty gasped. "Lorna Danes. What are you doing?"
The name caused a flicker of recognition in those lime green eyes, right before they darkened in anger. "Don't call me that!" she screeched.
Kitty screamed as she was thrown into the curtain of the stage. Wrapped in dusty cloth, she barreled into the lectern, knocking over the Friends of Humanity spokesperson and causing the audience to shout in surprise. Beams of support from the catwalk above and chains clattered loudly to the stage, the sound reverberating throughout the auditorium. Kitty slid painfully across the wood, and from under the stage curtain, could hear shouts of the crowd.
"What's going on?"
"Those things are expensive!"
Ignoring the pain, Kitty concentrated and phased through the stage floor. She landed in the school boiler room and fell to her knees. "Goddamnit," she cursed. "Oh, ow. Ow. Ow." Then, a voice in her mind: Kitty – what happened? The crowd is getting all riled up—are you all right?
Irritation fueled her movements. Kitty phased herself through the ground until she pulled herself out of the parking lot cement. Jean was standing at the doorway into the school auditorium. She came running, breathless, "What happened?"
"Ran into someone totally unexpected," Kitty winced. She was sore all over. "Let's get out of here. I'll fill you in on the way back to Bayville."
X
Manhattan Island
The head offices were in Alphabet City. Graydon Creed himself had chosen the location because it was spacious, he said, and would be best for the staff, despite the neighborhood's less than sparkling reputation of being crime-ridden and abandoned, an area for raves where youth played too-loud music and partied for too many hours high on uppers.
But such judgments couldn't be made on the 5th floor of that nondescript office building where the Friends of Humanity ran their operations. The organized cubicles and smartly-dressed staff formed a bubble of productive legitimacy to anyone who entered Suite 400.
"And what personal investment, if any, do you have in this cause, sir?" The man looked at the possible recruit from over his wire-rimmed glasses. He wore a white collared shirt and blue bow-tie speckled with white polka dots. He had been asking questions for a good 25 minutes.
The response came with a huff, "Ran into a mutie not too long ago. He was diggin' through my garbage like a hobo. 'Cept when I found him, he didn't like that much, hey? So he opened up on me – with his bare hands. Spikes few out. Took out my left knee. Just barely missed my eye. And my boy was with me. He was in the hospital for weeks from an abdominal injury. He's just a kid, man, he doesn't deserve that type of trauma from an animal. Let's not even talk about the financial costs. These things are a menace. And I want the dangerous ones put in jail."
"Is that so? I ran into that same mutant five months ago!" the recruiter exclaimed.
"You don't say…."
"A spiky black boy, yes? With blond hair? I was walking on 5th and I swear to God he popped up from the sewers. I almost ran over him—and he sent so many of these boney spike things into my car it cost me hundreds to repair!"
"Yes, that's the one. That's the very one."
"Absolutely disgusting, isn't it? Living in the tunnels. Digging through other people's refuse… ugh…. What are the odds that two of us normal people could run into the same mutant? Honestly…. All right Mr. Divers. You know, I think you're just the type of person we need to support this campaign."
"Please, call me Logan."
The recruiter smiled, "All right, Logan. I take it you want a more… proactive role in your membership."
From underneath his Yankees baseball cap Logan smirked, "The more hands-on the better, bub." He cracked his knuckles. "All the better."
"We have a special type of membership for that, Logan." The recruiter slid a piece of paper over the table. "Just fill in your information here. And check the box that says 'Field Member'. This will take a couple days to process for official membership, of course, but I can tell after our long conversation that you're just the type of fellow we need. Driven and able. With good faith in the cause. And personal experiences go a long way in that."
"Anything I can do to help," Logan said. "Anytime I can start workin', I will."
"As a matter of fact, there is a big event coming up, Mr. Divers—I mean, Logan," the recruiter laughed. "This weekend. At the Plaza Hotel. We're holding a high caliber fundraiser. And we like to have our own personal security. I'm a good judge of character, Logan—otherwise I wouldn't have this job. And you know what? I think you as a strong strapping man would make a very good addition to our security detail. What do you say?"
Logan smiled, "Glad to do the honors, sir."
"Grand. That's just grand. I'll sign you up. I have a good feeling about you. I think you'll go far with the Friends of Humanity." The recruiter punched some keys into his computer then retrieved a pin from his desk drawer: the emblem of an eagle and the letters F.O.H. "It's a black-tie event. I trust you have something? Good. You'll have to pin this on the breast pocket."
"Swell."
"Good to meet you Logan Divers. And your boy—how is he doing? What's his name?"
"Er, my boy? Kurt. His name is Kurt. And he's doin' just fine now, thanks for asking."
"All right then. This is a formal invitation. You'll have to present this at the door to get directed to the necessary places. There's also a training session on Wednesday. Make sure you go to that. They've been preparing for weeks but with your military experience, I'm sure you'll catch up quick. Here are the directions, times, places. Good luck, Logan!"
"Don't think I'll need it, bub." Logan rose from his chair, tucking the papers and pin into his jacket. He rode the elevator downstairs and out to the street where the X-Van was parked.
"Vhat took you so long?" Kurt Wagner said with an exasperated sigh. "I vas about to leave."
"If you'd done that, you'd have more troubles than boredom, Elf," Logan said. He got into the van and slammed the door shut, shoved the keys into the ignition. "We got what we needed. Now let's go before I barf from all the rotten vibes this place is givin' me."