IX
"Must she wear that horrid thing?"
"I'm afraid so, Ororo," Hank muttered. "Either that, or we risk losing her. Her power is quite unpredictable and I'd rather have some method of controlling it, for the time being. Even if it is...horrific."
He frowned as he brought the Genoshian collar close to his nose, and adjusted his spectacles to get a closer view of his minute adjustments. Ororo shifted uncomfortably on the leather sofa, scowling at the blinking collar in Hank's huge hands.
"Why not the bracelet?"
Hank peered over the collar and sighed. "I told you, the bracelet is too powerful. Nada's body can't fight the intense radiation it generates. Now please, let me finish this."
Nada glanced nervously around the room, wondering if anyone's face seemed encouraging. Aunt Jean sat to her left and hugged her too tightly. Her mother, who sat on her right, curled her fingers into a tight ball. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Uncle Charles' eyes glittered dangerously. And her father...well. He leaned against the library door like a soldier on patrol. He had crossed his arms and lit a cigar, to keep from becoming too angry, and everyone else was too upset to tell him to stop smoking.
"We needed to make a few minor adjustments, to make sure the collar was running on the correct frequency. The higher the cycle, the more lethal—ah."
A sharp "snap" echoed through the walls, and Nada jumped. Ororo took her hand and squeezed it.
< It'll be okay,> Jean projected. < It's temporary.>
Nada knew it, but she didn't like it. In a few other alternate realities the humans put the collars on mutants, and then hunted them for sport. This felt like the same thing.
Uncle Hank sighed and stared sadly at her over his bifocals. His eyes were red, and it didn't look as if he'd combed his fur—it stuck out in odd angles against his body. But she trusted him...Had trusted him all her life, before the jumps.
"I'm really quite sorry about this, Nada. None of us—"
"I know." She grimaced and stared at her shaking hands. But she surprised them all by standing suddenly and lifting her chin. "But there's no other choice, is there?"
"If there were, I would have chosen it," Hank said softly. He placed his fuzzy hands around her throat, as if affixing a diamond pendant. She didn't have time to jump at the second "snap" as the collar tightened around her neck. Her knees gave out, and Hank caught her before she fell to the ground.
"Easy," he said gently. Ororo ran to Nada's opposite side, but Hank already scooped her in his huge arms, cradling her close.
Jean scooted from the couch to make room. Hank lay Nada down as gently as a china doll, and propped her head with a pillow.
"Don't like it," she whispered. "Feel weak..."
"I know." Hank took her wrist, checked her pulse, and made a few more adjustments to the collar. He nodded grimly. "The side affects should go away in a while. Your metabolism should compensate in a few hours."
"She can't goddamn move," Wolverine muttered. "What the hell good is that?"
"Patience, Wolverine," Xavier said. "Hank knows what he's doing."
"Uh, huh. That's what Rogue thought, too."
Ororo shot him a look, but Wolverine turned his head. "It's a shitty way to live."
"It's her only chance," Ororo said softly. She grabbed a chair and sat next to Nada, stroking her dark locks.
"Tired..."
Beast flashed Nada one of his patented smiles. "It's okay, you can rest, now. We'll be here when you wake up. I promise." Her face softened. She was asleep before she saw his face turn to stone.
"Spill it," Wolverine growled. The room felt considerably smaller, but he hadn't moved from the wall. "You've all been hidin' stuff from 'Ro and me ever since this shit started. You level with us, or I'll start carvin' my initials inta some expensive lab equipment."
Ororo's eyes narrowed. "Is this true? Have you hidden the truth from us?"
Jean's face fell. "I wanted—"
"What Jean wanted to say," Charles interrupted, "is that we cannot treat Nada like an 'ordinary' mutant. She doesn't realize that her gifts affect more than simply herself."
Jean scowled but didn't retort.
"Chuck, when the hell have any of our gifts simply affected us? Fuck that. We both know—"
"Logan, please," Ororo sighed.
Wolverine worked his jaw, but kept quiet. Charles glimpsed at both Ororo and Logan as he caught the subtle emotional shift between his two X-Men. "Wolverine, Storm. I understand your concerns, but as an Omega mutant, we must be careful. Nada is different. We must treat her differently than the rest of the students."
"We cannot keep her corralled like some...some cattle. She is a child, a human being. And I thought we dispensed with the judgments, long ago." A crack of thunder rattled the library windows. "I refuse to put Nada in some special category simply because her gifts are greater than my own."
"That's not what I meant, Ororo."
"Then what did you mean, Charles?" Her eyes flashed. "That Nada deserves to be in exile because she cannot control herself? Deserves to be away from her family? That she is somehow less deserving of our care, or our trust?"
"Of course not." Jean placed a hand on Ororo's shoulder and glared at Charles. "She's no less deserving than the rest of us. And we shouldn't treat her any differently because we're afraid of what she may or may not do."
Hank cleared his throat. "I concur, Jean. However, I think it would strongly help the situation if Charles and I explain what we've pieced together about Nada."
"You could tell me she's sproutin' an extra head an' I wouldn't think worse of her."
Hank's lip quirked. "I assure you, friend Wolverine, that she's not growing an additional head. Nada does have a problem, however. A problem in addition to her dimensional shifting process."
"Which is?"
"I have been charting her brain wave activity. When she first arrived, she had an extreme amount of hypothalamic brain activity. I attributed this to her healing factor, of course. But upon greater study, I discovered that her limbic system was similarly affected, as was her thalamus and lateral ventricle—"
"Goddamnit, Hank, give it to me in fuckin' English."
Hank rubbed the bridge of his nose. "What I am trying to explain—rather badly, I suppose—is that Nada's body and her brain radiate a type of 'distortion' field. Call it a stasis leak, if you wish. In any case, my theory is that her feelings and her will, if not properly harnessed, have a strong chance of affecting our universe."
Ororo went over to Hank. Her eyes were both furious and sad. "So her environment changes to suit her emotional state?"
"To a degree, yes. Perhaps not as strong as an all-out warping of time, but she does have an extremely strong ability to 'suggest' things into her environment."
"And," Charles said, rubbing his eyes, "without the proper mental shielding, her 'feelings' can subtly change the way we act, think, or conduct business."
"So we keep the collar on 'er until we can fix the problem and send her back. So?"
Hank glanced at Charles grimly, who continued speaking. "I wish it were that easy, Logan. First, we all know that she can't wear the collar indefinitely. Her brain may be strong, but she possesses a relatively "human" body. She will die if she wears the Genoshian collar too long. Second, because of her mental strength, her body will learn to 'reject' the collar's influence over her. We would gradually have to increase its canceling strength over her powers. Considering all the data Hank provided, I think we have a day at most to try this alternative."
Wolverine caught Charles' subtle pause. "Go on."
Xavier sighed. "Hank has been monitoring Nada's power. She temporarily burned out her abilities with both the poisoning, and with her strong desire to come home. But she's charging up at an exceedingly strong rate. I have no doubt, once her body is fully capable, that her power will 'warp' our universe upon her exit. As to how badly, I'm not sure."
The room became still. "There must be a cure," Ororo said, breaking the silence. Her voice quivered. "You can work with her, Charles...Help her create better mental shields, or—"
Charles snorted. "In two days, Ororo? I couldn't teach her the basics in two weeks."
"But you will try, for Nada's sake, will you not?"
He shook his head. "Ororo—"
Snikt. Wolverine slammed his claws into Xavier's desk. "You heard the lady, Chuck. A chance is all she's askin'. An' it's amazin' what you can do, when yer under pressure." Snikt.
Professor Xavier's voice became cold. "Are you threatening me, Wolverine?"
Logan went to the couch, took Nada in his arms, and headed for the door. "If I have to."
Ororo didn't say a word—she didn't have to. The look on her face told the others that she agreed with Wolverine's assessment. She opened the door for him, and the two left without another word.
"Well," Charles said, after they left. "What do you think?"
"I think they're right," Jean said. "And you two are out of line."
She left the room and slammed the door for the second time that day.
"Charles," Hank sighed, gathering his papers from the desk, "if I were you, I'd learn to brush up on those basics in a hurry."
* * *
She had heard the murmurs in the back of her mind and felt her father's warm hands coddle her close to his chest. Daddy...I love you, Daddy. Will you sing the Rubber Tree song--?
Stop.
Her reason sliced into her thoughts with its ugly fury. This man is not your father. Those are not your aunts and uncles. Not yet. And if you screw it up, they never will be. You will kill them.
"Wolv—"
"Shhh. G'back to sleep, darlin'. I gotcha."
She fought for consciousness. She only had enough strength for one outburst and had just enough courage to last a short time. Tomorrow would be too late.
"Dad," she croaked. His face melted, and he listened. "Where's Mom?"
"Fixin' ya somethin' to eat. She figures you'll be starvin' in a few hours."
She swallowed. "Listen to me. I heard...Heard you arguing."
His body stiffened. "They'll find a way, Nada."
"And if they don't? I could kill you. This reality would—"
"Hush, darlin'."
She clung to his shirt and whispered. Her voice was weakening, but he knew his sensitive ears would catch every last word. "Dad, if it doesn't work, I'm dead anyway. We're all dead. Do what you have to do to save yourselves...Promise me!"
His growl made her cry.
"I know you'll do what you have to do, Daddy. I know..."
Her body, lost in the exertion of communication, won its fight for sleep. She saw her father's pain and sorrow, but the unspoken code hung between them. He kept his promises. He'd keep this one as well.
X
What--? Crap. Should've thought about the exit before—
"Remy, what the hell are you doing in Hank's office?"
He'd been around the mansion for so long, that he had turned everyone's steps into simple background noise. His alarm had rung, but his ears turned it off. He'd stumbled on his first pivotal law: Know Thy Environment. Remy made a face. You gettin' soft, LeBeau.
"Uh, I lost a poker hand?"
"Why do I find that so hard to believe?"
"Prob'ly 'cause it's d'truth," he muttered. His hands delicately fingered the special lock on Beast's filing cabinet. "An' I could be askin' you d'same t'ing, Summers."
Me? I'm...ah, well—Jean's health. She has a headache. I'm getting some aspirin."
"Uh, huh. In Hank's office." Remy winced at the way he turned the lock. Damn, now he had to start all over. "Howcum I don't b'lieve dat?"
"Fine, fine. We're both down here for the same reason: Hank's records on Nada. We're both too curious for our own damn good."
"Yeah, well," Remy groused, "I still los' dat poker game. Stupid two-a spades."
Scott watched him finger the lock, and shook his head, reaching for it. "Here, let me fiddle with i—"
"Stop it, neh!" Remy slapped his fingers away. "I built dis t'ing. I know how it works. An' sometimes I out do m'self. Like now."
Scott sucked his fingers. "Looks like a regular lock to me."
Remy smiled. "T'anks. One-a my best jobs."
He set the knob carefully to the right and winced at the slight click. "Ah, hah. Almost dere...Right! Jackpot."
The lock fell onto the floor, and the drawer slid open by itself. "Now you may have d'pleasure, good man."
"Everything's under lock and key in this place," Scott muttered, rifling through the manila folders.
"Gotta be. Dere's t'ief's everywhere...So? What'cha got?"
Scott pulled out the slimmest folder in the drawer. "This has to be it. It's not marked, and it's skinner than the rest."
"Well, don't stan' dere gawkin' at it. What's in it?"
"Hold your horses," he muttered, opening it. "There's a lot of technical jargon here. Looks like...whoa, she's an Omega class mutant. Not too shabby."
"Not too," Remy agreed. He began reading over Scott's shoulder. "Look. Dere's her latest DNA test. Beast did some scribblin' underneath it. Damn, he's a doctor, all right. Too hard t'read dat man's chicken scrawl, 'specially sideways."
"Yeah, yeah, I'll get to that in a second...She's not a telepath." He scowled. "How do you suppose she contacted Jean?"
Remy shrugged, but he wasn't paying much attention to Scott. He was still trying to decipher Hank's code.
"Wait, Remy...this other part's in the Professor's handwriting."
"Uh, huh...D—DNA? Can't tell if he wrote DNA or STP..." He stabbed the paper. "Dat look like DNA to you?"
Scott ignored him and kept talking. "Professor Xavier thinks she causes rips in the time continuum, which causes her funny photoelectric display in the sky. Kind of like time 'backwash'. Let's see what else he's got here...Multi-dimensional causality matrices...Consequential analyses...highly suggestive yet progressive continuum dominance...Extensive probability consequences...Sheesh, this stuff's totally over my head."
"Sacre bleu," Remy whispered. He suddenly looked up and stared into space. "Uh, homme..."
"Yeah?" Scott was too fascinated with the papers to see Remy's face. The information that he could understand was incredible. Her molecular makeup was fantastic.
"Uh...read dat chicken scrawl, an' tell me if it say what I t'ink it say."
"What? Oh, all right." Scott squinted at it. It looked like Braille. "Child's DNA...I...Iden...Identical match...Parents...Parents are—"
He stopped dead.
"Well?"
Scott Summers could only think of one word to sum up what he saw.
"Shit."
* * *
Ororo couldn't move from the recliner. She hated not knowing what to do. Her strength had always been in correctly assessing difficult situations and choosing the appropriate people for the appropriate jobs, and she knew how to make tough situations work when the options were slim. But now she had to assess her own skills, and she had trouble judging her merit. There was too much at stake, and unfortunately she understood both sides all too well. Had she made a mistake? Was she going to? Could she even afford to second-guess herself? She massaged her shoulders, but her fingers were too numb to do any good.
The library door creaked slightly; Ororo smiled.
"She asleep?"
"Yes." She rolled her shoulders and winced at the pain. "I doubt she will awaken, however. From what Henry said, she has not slept well since she arrived. This might be her first real night of sleep."
Wolverine came behind her chair. She smiled faintly at the rough hands smoothing the taut muscles in her neck.
"Yer neck's as stiff as One-Eye's spine."
"Mmm...You cannot imagine how good your hands feel, Logan."
Ororo expected him to make a veiled sexual comment. She knew something was up when he didn't.
"Would you like to go for another walk?"
He grunted.
At least that's something, she thought. "What is wrong?"
He took a while to speak. "I don't like complications."
"Nor do I, old friend," she sighed. "This whole day...Things did not go well."
"Yeah, and it's gonna get a helluva lot worse." Wolverine took a chair and slid up beside her. On a whim, she checked her pulse, and realized he was right. Her heart beat much to fast in his presence. She would have to rectify that.
Her face softened, seeing the deep lines in his brow. She ran her fingers over his cheek. "Perhaps. We have both been under a tremendous amount of strain lately."
She swallowed as his sad, dark eyes met hers. "Do you love me enough to trust me, 'Ro?"
"Of course I trust—"
He shook his head and stared at the floor. "Nah. I mean really trust me. I'm asking you to trust me more than you've ever trusted me before."
"I've trusted you with my heart," she said softly. "When you captured my heart, you also captured my total trust."
Her words didn't soothe his brow. He rose from the chair and flexed his fists as if ready to attack. "Do you trust this reality, 'Ro? I do. This is the real thing. Everything that's happened is meant to happen. I know it is."
"If you trust it, then I—"
"No!" He whirled around, startling her. "I need you to trust it with me, not 'cause I said so. That no matter what happens, this is what's supposed ta be. Ah, hell. I ain't makin' sense."
Ororo sighed. She rose from her chair and grabbed his clenched fist, and rubbed her smooth fingers against the rough, calloused ridges of his knuckles. "Nada has the power to change history. Our past, our present, our future—all of it may change, because of her. Yes, I understand that. And yes," she said, catching the wildness in his eye, "I fear it as well. But now is now. If I concerned myself with what might be or what could be, I would go mad. So I will settle for what I have now. I have no choice."
He grabbed her hand and squeezed it too tightly. "She wasn't the one who 'willed' you and I together, 'Ro. Trust me on this one."
"I—"
Ororo's voice caught, and Logan spun her around. "Dammit, you don't trust me. You'd rather take the easy route with this one, and pretend it'll all go away when Nada disappears. You wanna play us up as some goddamn fairytale."
"You are not being fair, Logan."
"No, you're the one not bein' fair. You ain't willin' to trust me, because you don't wanna get hurt. You're goin' all 'goddess' on me because you'd rather face this alone and deal with it on yer own terms."
Hail pattered the roof. "Logan, we're better off with the 'wait and see' approach. You know this, and I know this. I want it to work...I want us to work."
"But."
"But," she echoed, "Nada is our first priority. She must go home safely, and we must find a way to protect this universe at the same time. I cannot allow myself to—"
He grabbed her, knocked her legs out from under her, and bent her over backward to kiss her. She struggled, but he held on and didn't let go until she wrapped her hands around his neck.
Logan whispered in her ear. "Yeah, I'm scared. But Nada don't have all the answers. Neither do you." He brought her back to her feet. She swayed a little, from both the loss of blood and the heady kiss.
Ororo wiped her lips cautiously. She was angry with herself for responding to Logan's kiss and angry that she enjoyed it. "She knows her powers, Wolverine."
"She's not around after the fact. How does she know what happens? How can any of us know?"
Ororo didn't have an answer. Logan went to the closet and found a blanket on the top shelf, and locked all of the library doors.
"Logan, what in the world—"
"You gonna start trustin' me for real, or not?"
She shut up. He drew the blinds and unplugged the phone, the intercom, and the fax machine. "I think you got it right, 'Ro: We've got today. We've got now. And we've got here."
Her jaw dropped as he started taking off his clothes. "Logan, are you mad? This is the library! Students come here—"
"And they'll keep comin' here." His boot dropped to the floor. "So?"
"This is disrespectful. What you want to do is...is—"
"What, sacrilegious? It's the library, 'Ro. Not the Vatican. Besides, this is a training exercise."
She cocked her eyebrow at him as he removed his pants. "Really."
"Yep. I'm teachin' ya how to think outside the box."
He lifted her sweater over her head and kissed her bra strap. "I bet that by tomorrow, you'll come up with a solution."
She folded her arms. "And if I don't?"
He winked at her. "Then you'll get a good look at my famous money-back guarantee."
* * * ~ To Be Countined ?! ~ * * *