Chapter Fifteen

Rahne sighed and leaned back in her chair, rubbing her tired eyes. "It just isnae coming together, Mum. This latest compound should have done the trick. Yet the wee beasties aren't even bothered."

"Well, we can't go any stronger. As it is, this compound's nearly as dangerous to human cells as the disease itself. Just like our last attempt, and the one before…" Moira slumped forward, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration. "There has to be something else, some other way—"

She sneezed, then gasped when she saw bright red blood splashed across her handkerchief. "God, if the ruddy soreness weren't enough…!"

Rahne jumped to her feet and grabbed some cotton balls from the first aid canister, helping her stepmother staunch the heavy nosebleed. "Mum, you need to rest," she said for what had to be the eightieth time that day.

Moira shook her head, trying to push Rahne and her ministrations away. "Rahne, dear, I love you. But—"

"An' will you stop arguin' with me!" Rahne insisted, her green eyes sharp with dogged stubbornness. "You dinnae have the X-gene to aid your stamina, as I do."

"So. Physician, heal thyself, is it," the doctor grunted, tossing away a blood-soaked cotton ball and irritably accepting the fresh one Rahne held out. "Och," she sighed. "I feel like those cells in your bloody petri dish. Dissolving away into an oozing lump of cytoplasm…"

Edmund Wagner knocked and paused by the door, his powder-blue tail twitching uncertainly. But Moira seemed glad for the interruption. Rahne grunted and sat back at her computer.

"Eddie," Moira called, waving him into the medical lab with one hand while pressing the cotton ball to her nose with the other. "What can we do for you, my lad?"

"Um…" Edmund shyly lowered his eyes, his rounded ears turning pink. "Eliza says Uncle Alistaire needs a new box of tissues but there's no more in the cabinet. He's been having nosebleeds, like you. And, Jessalyn's awake again but she still won't eat her soup. Her throat's all swollen and it hurts her to swallow. Is it OK if Rachel and I keep giving her ice chips?"

"Poor lass. It may be time to start an IV." Moira shook her head, hissing through her teeth as she rose slowly to her feet. Edmund rushed to lend her a hand, which she accepted with a small smile. "Thank you, laddie. As for the tissues, your Uncle Brian recently stowed several crates of tissues an' other supplies in the kitchen pantry. Go grab a few boxes from there. Use the folding hand-truck – then you can restock our supply cabinet. Bring back anything you think we might need."

"OK," Edmund said. "I'll bring the stuff down on the lift."

"There's a love." Moira smiled sadly and smoothed his short, black hair. "I'll be telling your parents what a fine helper you're being, and how well you're holding up. I know they'll be very proud of you."

Edmund nodded a little, tightening his lips for a moment before looking up at her.

"Um, Dr. MacTaggert?"

"Yes, Edmund?"

"I'm just wondering… What exactly does the X-gene do?" he asked, his spaded tail lashing anxiously behind his ankles. "I mean, besides making people mutants. What exactly is it about the X-gene that these weird parasites don't like?"

"That's a good question," Rahne said. "An' a troublesome one. You see, the X-gene presents differently in each individual, even within families. That's why you can have one sister who's a teleporter and another who shifts her shape, while your powers lie on the psychic/empathic spectrum. Three siblings, three wildly different power matrices. And that's not even touching on the physical attributes…"

Edmund counted on his slender fingers. "You mean, like my tail and Marti's tail and Marti's fur and hands and—?"

"Exactly," Rahne cut him off, tapping at her keyboard. "There's too many variables to pin down an answer – especially in so short a time as we have here."

"But…" Edmund frowned, his head tilting as he thought. "Isn't there anything we have in common? Like you said – about the X-gene aiding stam…" He trailed off, struggling to recall the word she'd used while he'd been working up the nerve to knock at the door and interrupt them.

"Stamina?" Moira suggested, discarding her soiled cotton ball, then giving her hands and face a quick wash in the sink.

"Yeah!" He smiled, showing his straight, even teeth. "That means mutants don't get tired as quickly as other humans, right? Isn't that something most mutants have in common? And don't they need more energy anyway, because of their powers?"

"It's true… The X-gene does allow mutant cells to channel energy in ways that would damage or even fry normal tissue…" Rahne mused, her eyes flicking away from her screen as she thoughtfully tapped her chin. "Mum, do you think—"

"I don't know. I…" Moira clutched her short, auburn hair and charged for her notes. "Dear lord, could it be that simple…?"

"What are you thinking?" Rahne asked, getting up to join her. "A controlled electrical current, or perhaps—"

"No, no – it would be in the way mutants metabolize energy," Moira said, bringing up several heavily detailed anatomical diagrams on her holo-screen. "Do you see here, and here? Even in mutants that don't specifically present with electrical or electro-magnetic powers…"

"I see, yes…" Rahne mused. "It would certainly be an element of the mutant healing factor. And metamorphic abilities as well…"

"Telekinesis, psychic projection, phase-shifting, enhanced speed—"

"Teleportation?" Edmund suggested, wanting to help but not quite sure what they were on about.

Moira laughed and clapped her hands together, then gave Edmund's shoulders a jaunty squeeze.

"Edmund Wagner, you are a treasure!"

Edmund blinked up at her, his spaded tail swaying behind his head. "Did I help?"

"My dear boy, this may be the lead we've been after. Rahne, let's set up a fresh sample. Edmund, go fetch Rachel and bring her here. I want to try something."

"OK, I'll get Rachel, then the tissues." Edmund smiled, already racing toward the main infirmary. "I'll be back before you can say BAMF!"

Edmund stood aside as the lift doors opened and his Auntie Kitty strode into the hall, followed by his Uncle Logan.

"It's OK, Logan," Kitty was saying, "I only need a minute."

"'Scuse me!" Edmund said, squeezing past the adults into the lift. Logan gave the boy a curious look.

"Hey, Squirt. Where're you off to in such a hurry?"

"Pantry," Edmund explained. "I have to get some tissues and things for the supply cabinet. Oh – did you know—!" he said, practically bouncing in his sneakers. "Dr. MacTaggert and Auntie Rahne have a new lead on stopping the water parasite! They're in the lab now, running an experiment with Rachel!"

"With…?" Kitty stopped and turned, her eyes crinkled with concern. "Wait, is Rachel all right?"

But the lift doors had already closed. Logan moved forward, gesturing for Kitty to walk ahead of him. "Let's find out."

"But I thought we were in a hurry," Kitty teased.

Logan grunted. "Just move. The Elf won't lift off without us."

"That's what I said!" Kitty jabbed back, rapping her knuckles against the door to Moira's cluttered office before heading inside. "Rahne, Moira! Eddie says you have a lead?"

"Aye," Moira called from the adjacent lab. "It was Edmund put us on the track. Didn't he tell you?"

Kitty quirked an eyebrow, casting her sharp eyes over Moira's open notes as she headed past the desk toward the lab. "Not a word."

"Too busy runnin' errands." Logan smirked.

"Poor lad's trying so hard to be useful. Well, come on in," Moira invited with a wave, stepping back from the lab table where Rachel Summers held her hand over one of several petri dishes, her green eyes glowing white and her small frame wreathed in feathery flickers of orange flame. Rahne stood by the girl's shoulder, watching graphs and numbers fluctuate on her handheld scanner.

"What exactly are you doing in here?" Kitty asked curiously.

"Put very simply, we're comparing how mutant and non-mutant cells react to certain types of energy, and energy frequencies," Rahne said distractedly.

"Tell me more," Kitty said, moving closer. "And I don't mean simply. Are you suggesting we could eradicate those blasted parasites from my husband's system with some kind of energy bath? —And everyone else affected too." She added with a quick glance to Moira.

Rahne smiled, just slightly. "Rachel, you keep going," she said, leading Kitty over to her computer station and gesturing to the reams of data scrolling on the holoscreen. "Here's some of the data we've collected so far," she said. "It's pretty raw at the moment, but you can see there's a definite correlation between…"

"Logan," Moira said while Rahne and Kitty talked, taking the Canadian's thick arm and tilting her head toward her office. "I've been meaning to talk with you. D'you mind…?"

With an obliging grunt, Logan let the exhausted doctor use him as a crutch. Shuffling slowly, she led him to her cluttered desk then sank into her swivel chair with a pained wince.

Logan frowned.

"You're wearin' yourself out, Doc," he said. "Shouldn't you be restin' in the infirmary with Prof Stuart?"

"The dead can rest, Logan," the doctor quipped dryly. "I have work to do."

"Do I have to get Rahne in there ta give you a knock-out shot?"

"I'm fine," Moira insisted with a glare that, even through her glasses, could rival Wolverine on a bad day. Logan raised his blunt hands in acknowledgement, but his own eyes remained wary. "Besides," the doctor went on, "it's not myself I want to talk about."

Logan's mouth tightened in a scowl. "If you mean the 'Crawler—"

"I'm concerned about Kurt's mental state," Moira said. "You know the horrors he's endured, better than any of the rest of us. And after that scene in the Control Room…the way he leaped at the idea that those long-defunct LGP and Weapon X organizations could be behind all that's been happening…" She shook her head, squeezing her auburn hair between her fingers. "I'm worried his past trauma could be affecting his decisions."

"He's stronger than you give him credit for."

"This isn't about strength," Moira insisted, pounding her fist on the desk. "Kurt isn't like you, Logan. You helped him manage a remarkable recovery, at least in the early days. But becoming a husband, a father… I watched our shattered friend rebuild his identity on that foundation - on knowing he was wanted, needed. Loved. If he should arrive at that base and the children aren't there – or worse…!"

Logan crossed his burly arms, his furrowed brow hooding his flint-black eyes.

"I'll tell ya this, Doc," he rumbled, low in his throat. "Only time I'd truly be concerned about the Elf is if the people he cares about most stop believing in him."

"Logan, that's not what I'm—"

"It's what I'm talkin' about," Logan insisted, pressing a blunt hand to her desk and leaning in to catch her troubled eyes. "Doubt him all you want, question him to his face. But don't use those doubts as an excuse to dismiss him or make him out like he's irrational. Kurt will make it thorough whatever might be facing us out there – as long as he has our support. An' I, for one, have good reason to believe his theory about the Transian base."

Moira knit her brows over her glasses. But, before she could say anything, a quick rap came at the door and Edmund hopped in.

"Dr. MacTaggert, I restocked the supply cabinet and Auntie Meggan says Jessalyn managed to drink some broth, but Uncle Alistaire's still having nosebleeds and— Oh, hey, Uncle Logan! You're still here! What's going on?"

"Come here, Squirt," Logan said, opening his arms to catch the pale-blue boy as he jumped and climbed up onto the Canadian's broad shoulders. "We're just getting ready to head out on that scouting mission. How 'bout you come with me an' give your daddy a hug before we go, eh?"

Edmund nodded and leaned his cheek against Wolverine's dark hair. "Uncle Logan?" he said. "Do you think Marti and Suzie and the others really could be at that old base?"

"That's why it's called a scouting mission, kid," Logan grunted. "We won't know nothin' 'till we get there and start sniffin' around."

"But you think there's a chance?"

"There's always a chance, Eddie," Kitty said, striding up to give her 'nephew's' spaded tail a supportive little squeeze. "So, Logan, ready to go?"

Logan grunted and headed for the door, Edmund's tail twining around his burly arm as the boy ducked under the doorframe. Kitty shot a quick smile back at Moira.

"I think you and Rahne are really on to something," she said. "Keep me in the loop, OK? I'm just gonna drop in on Alistaire real quick, and we'll be on our way."

"Good luck," Moira said. "All of you…"

To Be Continued…

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