Chapter 38

Principal Kelly's testimony was painful to listen to.

Scott know that he should technically be thinking of the man as Mayor Kelly, but he didn't want to. It was hard to feel any obligation to use the proper honorific for a man who spent fifteen minutes telling the jury all about every single thing you accidentally broke in high school.

"This young man," Kelly seethed, "is an unquestioned menace to society! He's unpredictable and dangerous, and should be locked up."

"I hate this," Scott whispered to Royal.

"Relax. You'll cheer up on the cross-examination."

"Thank you, Mayor Kelly," said DA Braddock. "Mr. Royal, your witness."

Royal gave Scott a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Watch this."

He stood up, and Scott could hear him pacing the floor again. "Mayor Kelly," he began, and his voice had a tone in it that Scott was coming to recognize: friendly, polite, with just a hint of tension in it that suggested he was working up to a punchline. "In the years you served as principal of Bayville High, what measures did you take to prevent all these altercations between your human and mutant students?"

"As a principal, there was only so much I could do. I argued to the school board that the mutants needed to be expelled, but was never able to persuade them to vote in our favor."

"You must have misunderstood the question. I didn't ask what you'd done to get mutants expelled. I asked what you'd done to prevent human/mutant conflicts."

"I believe I answered that."

"What is your school's policy on bullying, Mayor Kelly?"

"We had a no-tolerance policy, just like every other public school in New York."

"And when dealing with the incidents you've shared with the court, how was that no-tolerance policy applied?"

"I made sure that Summers and his cohorts were disciplined to the full extent of the school's policies."

"After, of course, ascertaining that you were punishing the right party. Scott was the instigator in all these cases, correct?"

"Yes, that's correct."

"How did you ascertain that?"

"What do you mean, 'how did I ascertain it'?"

"How do you know who started it? Does Bayville have a system of security cameras?"

"Certainly not. Bayville is a safe community. Security cameras are an extreme measure, only appropriate in areas where they're truly needed."

"So when you asked 'who started it,' it was one student's word against another?"

"Not—"

"When you joined the mayoral race, Mr. Kelly, what was your campaign platform?"

"I was campaigning on a number of issues."

"Including the issue of 'mutant control'?"

"That was a major part of my platform, yes."

"And the frequent alterations at the school must have shown the voters just how crucial it was to have a pro-control man in office."

"The citizens of Bayville were calling for change."

"Would they have been calling quite so loudly if there hadn't been so many incidents at the high school?"

"I don't see what you're implying," said Kelly, though his tone made it perfectly obvious that he did, and didn't like it.

"I'm implying, Mayor Kelly, that you had a vested interest in making sure that human/mutant altercations continued. I'm implying that you did nothing about the bullying problem at your school because you knew full well that it was going to further your political career. I respectfully submit that you allowed young men and women under your care, including Scott Summers, to be continually provoked and harassed so that they would be forced to incriminate themselves and you could be mayor."

"That is slanderous, sir, and it is deeply insulting. I took my responsibilities as mayor of Bayville High absolutely seriously, and I defy you to prove otherwise."

"And I defy you, sir, to prove that my client ever, even once, acted in anything other than self-defense, or the defense of others. You had a hero walking the halls of your school and you treated him like a criminal for your own selfish ends."

"OBJECTION!" roared Braddock.

"Mr. Royal!" Judge Webb snapped.

"No further questions."

Royal returned to his seat and whispered to Scott. "You are missing a priceless expression on that man's face right now. I hope one of the sketch artists caught it."

"You were right," Scott whispered back. "I do feel better."

"Glad to hear it."

"That was everything I ever wanted to say to him. Well, almost everything. You forgot to mention that he should give back all of Jean's sports trophies."

"We'll put that on the 'To-Do' list for a civil suit later on. Don't smile."

Scott, who had been starting to grin, immediately schooled his face back into solemn professionalism.

"They're running out of ideas," Royal assured him. "Your turn's coming soon."

"Gambit."

"Tu veux quoi?" Gambit demanded, rudely.

He was in the gym, practicing with his adamantium staff. The truce was still on, so there was nobody to fight; Avalon's warehouse was stocked for a month, so there was nothing to steal; Rogue was still incommunicado, so there was nothing to say. At least, so he'd thought.

"I wish to speak to you," Magneto told him.

Gambit continued his staff drill. He knew it was a futile gesture, but futile gestures seemed to be all he had to work with right now. After a few seconds, he felt the staff lock into place, nearly dislocating his shoulder.

"I am accustomed to having people listen when I speak," Magneto informed him.

"Well, ain't we all just havin' learnin' experiences dis month," Gambit drawled. Since there was no chance of his being able to continue his drills until Magneto felt like letting him, he leaned against the floating staff and crossed his arms in his customary 'I'm listening, but that doesn't mean I like you' posture. It bugged Scott; chances were Magneto wouldn't like it much more.

"I have a proposal," Magneto began.

"I'm flattered, but I t'ink we should just be friends."

"I want to know just what you're willing to do to save your people."

"From you?"

"From all of it."

"I dunno if you haven't picked up on dis yet, but I don' work for you no more. We is not on de same side."

"We are on the same side!" Magneto snapped. "Do you truly think I wish any harm on any of Charles's students? They are mutants. Many of them are children. Charles has been my friend and colleague for over thirty years. Why would I hurt any of them if I didn't have to?"

"Well, dere's de kicker, ain't it? 'If you didn' have to'."

"Fighting for the freedom of our people is more important than any one individual's life. But there is a way to finish this without the loss of any mutant blood, and I need to know if you will help me."

"So de trial's as good as over in your mind, den?"

"It was always as good as over. Human justice is a joke. You, of all people, should know that."

That was a fair point. Gambit let it pass unchallenged.

"If Senator Creed were to be removed from the equation," Magneto offered, "the anti-mutant campaign would fall apart. He is the lynchpin. The king."

"Removed from de equation," Gambit echoed.

"We'll both save a great deal of time if you skip the part where you pretend to be shocked. You know perfectly well that I'll do what I think is necessary."

"'Shocked' ain't de word for it." The staff was digging uncomfortably into Gambit's back now; he stood up and unfolded his arms. "Get Sabertooth t'do it. He likes dat sort of t'ing. Even if it is his own son, probably."

"I can't."

"Ain't he takin' your orders no more either?"

"Sabertooth is useless in this. Charles can see him. He'll be expecting me to make a move on Creed, and will be watching everyone he knows to be involved with me. You are the only one who can reach Creed without being detected by Cerebro."

"An' de one de prof trusts enough t'not be watchin' like a hawk."

"I see you follow my logic."

Gambit turned his back and gave his immobilized weapon a futile tug. "Gimme my staff back. I earned it, an' it's none'a yours."

The staff fell obligingly into his hand.

He collapsed the weapon and tucked it into its pocket. "I killed a man once," he observed, almost conversationally. "Fair fight. Self-defense. Still didn' enjoy it."

"You've killed men more than once. Many of those marines died, and you were as culpable for that as Cyclops was."

"An' you're suggestin' dat since I'll fight off men wid guns invadin' a house full'a my own people, I'll be fine wid sneakin' up on a man I never met but once an' puttin' a bullet t'rough his head." His hand strayed involuntarily to the weight of the new staff in his jacket. "Or a blade."

"The man that gave those soldiers their orders. And there will be more orders if he isn't stopped. You, and you alone, have a chance to stop this war before it starts. Whatever happens in the future will be hinged upon your decision."

"Don' you put dis on me. Dis war's yours."

"This war is Senator Creed's. I don't intend to let him keep it. This would be the least bloody way to assure that . . . for humans and for mutants."

Gambit stood still, and was silent, neither agreeing nor protesting.

"If it's Charles you're worried about, I can provide you an alibi. He never has to know. Nor do any of his people."

"De ones who matter would know."

Magneto nodded, acknowledging the possibility. "I can make you do nothing against your will, and I will not insult you by offering payment. I know this is not your guild's purvey. I just wanted to make sure that you've considered all the implications of what may happen over the next few days."

"We done here?"

"Certainly. I've been in court all day, and am anxious for a few hours' sleep."

Magneto left him alone. Gambit opened his staff again and resumed drilling, working his body to silence his mind.

Tu veux quoi?: What do you want?