They are the grandchildren of the atom, the descendants of the greatest heroes the world has ever known. Now, they fight a new battle, one not for ideals but for their own survival.

Mutants mutandis.

X PLUS ONE

Writer Caitlin Kittredge

Editor Sara McDonald-Lunday

Penciller/Inker Melinda Viderman

Color Christian Gramnaes

 

The Brand Corporation, Manhattan

February 1st

12:20 pm

Tyler Brand was having a very good day.  As chief executive officer of the Brand Corporation, he had made a lot of money with a minimal amount of effort.  It was just after lunch and Tyler was relaxing in his office with the latest copy of Forbes.  His face graced the cover.  He had just gotten comfortable when his secretary stuck her head around the door.  “Mr. Brand?”  She looked nervous.  “Your, uh, twelve-thirty is here.”  Tyler looked up and chuckled slightly. 

           

“She’s early.”  He tucked his magazine into his middle desk drawer.  “Tell her to come in, Yvonne.  And stop looking so twitchy.”  He grinned at his secretary.  “She’s only a mutant.” 

The woman who came into Tyler Brand’s office was younger than he expected, and two dangerous-looking blond men trailed her.  One was slim, with a disturbing Mona Lisa smile and a bulge under his suit jacket, and the other was massive, with pointed teeth and a ratty trenchcoat that swept Tyler’s parquet floor.  Tyler stood smoothly.  “Ms. Poe, I presume?”  He made a point to look down his nose at her bodyguards.  “I assure you, the heavy artillery wasn’t necessary.”  The woman, who was really a girl, fixed him with pupiless silver eyes.  Her voice was cutting. 

           

“I’ll decide that for myself, Mr. Brand.”  Tyler blinked once and then indicated the chair and sofa opposite his desk. 

           

“Please, sit.”  The girl sat in the chair and crossed her long legs demurely.  She tucked her lush silver ponytail over her shoulder with one hand and looked at Tyler. 

           

“You have what I need, Mr. Brand.  How much is it going to cost me?”  Tyler put one foot on his desk, settling in for a good long haggle.  He noticed that neither man had sat down.  The short one was standing just behind his mistress, and the big lump was systematically inspecting Tyler’s office for anything out of the ordinary.  Tyler bristled as he picked up a pre-Colombian statute and shook it to see if it contained anything sinister.

           

“That’s expensive, Mr…?”  The man looked over his shoulder at him. 

           

“Creed.  Victor Creed.  But ya can call me Sabretooth.”  He bared his pointed canines.  The girl smiled slightly. 

           

“It would be a good idea to let Victor fondle your crockery, Mr. Brand.  He’s very cranky.  It’s his old age.”  Tyler could have sworn he heard the big man mutter an obscenity at the classification ‘old’.  The girl fixed him with her disturbing eyes again.  “Now.  Let’s stop wasting time and agree on a price.” 

           

“Well, that’s the thing,” said Tyler.  “You see, Ms. Poe—“ 

           

“Adrienne, please,” she interrupted him.  Tyler smiled. 

           

“Adrienne.  This stuff you want is government regulated.  I can’t just ship it out in regular fifty-gallon drums.  We have to be a little discreet.”  He steepled his fingers, going in for the kill.  “And discreet, Adrienne, costs money.” 

           

“We have money,” said Adrienne.  Tyler looked mildly amused. 

           

“Oh yes.  The Eclipse Army.  Turning a profit, is it?”  Adrienne’s eyes flashed. 

           

“It’s no concern of yours, Mr. Brand.  All you need to worry about is if I have the right amount for what you have.”  Tyler shook his head, becoming more aggressive in his patented deal-closing haggle. 

           

“You just don’t get it, do you kid?  I’m doing you a favor.  I’m sticking my neck out to put a dangerous biological agent into the hands of a whacko teenager.  Frankly, Adrienne, you should be paying me annuity until I die.”  There was a ruffle of air in the room, and the papers scattered off Tyler’s desk.  The next thing he knew, there was a large, sharp knife pressed against his throat and a strong hand clamping him in his chair. 

           

“I think you owe General Poe an apology,” hissed the slim blond man in his ear.  The knife carved into Tyler’s throat and a bead of blood stained the collar of his shirt. 

           

“Agh,” Tyler choked.  Adrienne was smiling. 

           

“Tyler, Tyler.  You should have treated me with respect.  Shawn is very touchy about things like that.”  Shawn nocked his knife into Tyler’s throat another sixteenth of an inch.  Tyler whimpered in terror.  Adrienne stood up and leaned across his desk, bringing her face close to his.  “I will pay you sixteen million dollars for five ounces of your lab-created Legacy Virus.  That works out to over two million dollars an ounce.  That’s a very generous sum, Tyler.  I suggest you take it.” 

           

“Sixteen million?  Don’t make me laugh,” snapped Tyler, suddenly growing a backbone in the face of profit loss.  Adrienne backed off and took a few steps away from his desk. 

           

“You should have taken it, Tyler.”  She nodded to Shawn, who put his knife in the kill position at Tyler’s carotid artery. 

           

“You really should have,” Shawn agreed.  “Because if anyone’s a whacko in here it’s me.  I’m afraid this is going to hurt.  A lot.”  He grinned.  Beads of sweat broke out across Tyler’s forehead. 

           

“Please, Ms. Poe—Adrienne,” he begged.  Adrienne turned back to him. 

           

“Yes?”  Tyler felt the point of Shawn’s knife slip into his skin. 

           

“Sixteenmillionisfine!” he shouted.  Adrienne cupped a hand behind her ear. 

           

“Say again?”

           

“Sixteen million is fine!” Tyler screamed, seeing his entire life flash before his eyes. 

           

“Ah,” said Adrienne.  “Stop, Shawn.”  Shawn withdrew his knife, disappointed. 

           

“Too bad.  I would have really enjoyed skinning your oily hide.” 

           

“Shawn,” remonstrated Adrienne.  “Is that any way to talk to our business associates?”  Shawn put his knife back in its sheath, inside his jacket lapel. 

           

“Sorry, ma’am.”  Tyler had found a linen handkerchief and clapped it across the bleeding lines and dots on his neck. 

           

“Get out.  All of you out!”  Adrienne snapped her fingers at Sabretooth, who took out a computer disk and passed it to Adrienne, who in turn floated it over to Tyler’s desk.  Tyler was too deeply shocked to even notice the method of transport. 

           

“The coordinates of our meeting and exchange are on the disk,” said Adrienne.  Shawn opened the door for her.  “I trust you’ll be punctual.  I’d hate to tell Shawn you were impolite.”  Tyler blanched slightly. 

           

“I’ll be there,” he ground out. 

           

“Excellent.  Good day.”  The three mutants walked out.  Tyler pushed his intercom button. 

           

“Yvonne, call my doctor.”  He sank back in his leather executive chair, seething over his humiliation at the hands of an impudent child.  Tyler dabbed at the blood on his throat, already plotting his revenge. 

Xavier’s School for Gifted Children

Westchester, New York

1:01 pm

“You have got to be kidding me,” said Lauren Grey-Summers.  The slim redhead was ensconced in front of a computer console, staring with disbelief at what was on the screen.  Across the room at a steel table, another redheaded girl looked up. 

           

“What is it, Laurie?”  Lauren swiveled to face her friend. 

           

“I can’t get over some of these files is all.  I mean, the U-Men?”  Meg LeBeau, Lauren’s friend, looked at her askance. 

           

“What’re the U-Men?”  Lauren rolled her eyes. 

           

“You don’t want to know.”  Meg put down the papers she had been working on and gathered her hair, a wine-red shade, into a braid. 

           

“No, I do.” 

           

“You asked for it,” said Lauren, turning to read off the screen.  “The U-Men: a group of normal human individuals who seek to become mutants by grafting mutant body parts onto their own.”  Meg wrinkled her nose.

           

“That is just gross.  And really, really stupid.” 

           

“I can’t believe some of the people in this database managed to walk down the street without falling on their face, never mind be supervillains,” said Lauren.  “The old X-Men sure had it easy.” 

           

“I beg to differ,” said a voice from the doorway.  Meg turned to confront the speaker. 

           

“Okay, Darien, you tell me, who has it easier: grown adults with jobs and a means to support themselves or teenagers who have to fight off crazy psychos with nerve gas and evil mutants who want to make them all dead?”  Darien Lensherr raised his eyebrows. 

           

“Am I sensing some resentment here?”  Meg growled something in Meg-speak and slumped back down before her pile of papers. 

           

“What was that first part, about a means to support themselves?” asked Lauren.  Meg sighed and tossed the papers on the table with a thwap. 

           

“We’re broke.  Do you have any idea what electricity and heat for this place costs?  Not to mention medical supplies, equipment for the team and fuel for the Dodo.” 

           

“It’s actually a Lockheed Blackbird,” said Darien, taking a bill at random and looking at the bottom line.  He winced and set it back down. 

           

“I’m calling it the Dodo from now on,” said Meg, “because after the fuel in the tank runs out it’s extinct.  It costs more to fuel that jet than this week’s lottery jackpot.”

           

“Wow,” said Lauren.  “That’s bad.”  Meg sighed, her amber eyes tired. 

           

“We barely have enough to eat, never mind keep this place up and running.”  Lauren went back to typing on her console. 

           

“I may have help for us there.  According to this database, there are two fusion generators on the grounds which are supposed to keep the school and the headquarters beneath it powered.” 

           

“Did you say fusion?  As in nuclear?” asked Meg.  Lauren waved a hand.

           

“Nuclear fusion is perfectly safe.  It’s nuclear fission that causes meltdowns.  And besides, these generators are some kind of alien technology.  I think they’re safe.”  Meg sighed. 

           

“You think being the operative words.”  Lauren bit her lip. 

           

“Want me to hold off on starting them, boss?”  Meg shook her head. 

           

“No.  We can’t afford to not start them.  Go ahead and fire the suckers up.” 

           

“If I’m not mistaken,” said Darien.  “Activating the generators will also restore power to the Danger Room and Cerebra.”  Lauren nodded. 

           

“That’s what Xavier’s construct said.” 

           

“English, please,” said Meg.  “Danger Room and Cerebra?” 

           

“The Danger Room is a holographic suite,” said Lauren.  “It’s that big dark room where Damien beat up Darien when we first got here…”

           

“Please,” said Darien, “must you reference my encounter with Werewolf every time you bring up the Danger Room?” 

           

“Why not?” said Meg.  “It’s fun.” 

           

“I hate you,” said Darien pleasantly. 

           

“And Cerebra is a telepathic amplification device,” broke in Lauren.   

           

“The big round room?” asked Meg.  Lauren nodded. 

           

“That’d be it.  It amplifies a psychic’s brainwaves to reach over greater distances.  It can even locate other mutants, according to the schematic.”  Meg was impressed. 

           

“Wow, Laurie, you should have some fun with that.”  Lauren stopped smiling. 

           

“The professor says I don’t have enough control to use it yet.  It could fry my brain.” 

           

“You should listen to him,” said Darien.  “He knows what he’s talking about.” 

           

“I know he’s right, of course,” said Lauren, still looking a little crestfallen.  “I don’t want to use it until I’m ready.”  Meg patted her friend’s arm. 

           

“Don’t sweat it, Laurie.  You’ll be surfing the psychic spacewaves before you know it.” 

           

“Psychic spacewaves?” said Darien.  “And you complain I don’t speak English…” 

           

“You’re British, of course you don’t speak English,” said Meg flippantly. 

           

“Have I told you lately that I hate you?” asked Darien.  Lauren moved to another, bigger screen at the computer console and began to type. 

           

“Quiet now, guys.  I need to turn on the generators.”  Meg gathered her pile of bills. 

           

“I’m going to go outside and mull over our debt in the frozen beauty of nature.”  Darien followed her to the door. 

           

“See if you can find the errant Mr. North while you’re at it.” 

           

“Don’t worry,” said Meg.  “I’m sure he’s just up a tree somewhere brooding.” 

           

“Werewolf is just like his father,” said Darien.  Meg winked at him. 

           

“Yeah.  But that’s not a bad thing.” 

Eclipse Army headquarters

Queens, New York

5:10 pm

Even in the smallest size, the hazard suit hung off Nancy Wilson like a balloon gone soft.  The young woman, code named Starling, shifted uncomfortably as the ruffs of feather on her back and arms were crushed against the inner layer of the hazard suit.  Her fingers felt stiff and bulky in the white plastic gloves, and the faceplate of the helmet tilted down so she could barely see.  It didn’t help that only soft blue bulbs with absolutely no ultraviolet rays lighted the level four containment lab.  Nancy reached into a supercooled transport container with a pair of tongs and extracted a vial.  The liquid was a milky gray, sloshing benignly in its tube.  It was a lab-engineered strain of the Legacy Virus.  Nancy was testing it to see if it lived up to its claims. 

           

First, Nancy carried the vial, still holding it far away from her in its tongs, to a table where an open petri dish lay.  The dish contained a blood sample from a random mutant in the ranks of the Eclipse Army.  Nancy set the vial in a rack and took a dropper in her huge, clumsy glove.  She placed one drop of the virus in the petri dish and turned on the microscope camera so she could watch the reaction.  The red cells of the blood lay in their dish, the soldier’s X genes treated with a dye so they showed up in white clusters inside each cell.  The Legacy Virus raced through the dish and went straight for the cells, attacking them and turning them a sick black.  Nancy took another prepared dropper and introduced a spot of green to the dish.  The cure for the original strain of the legacy virus.  The cure attacked the viral cells, but it was quickly overpowered and in the end speeded the process.  Satisfied, Nancy moved on to the crucible. 

           

Nancy didn’t know where the tissue sample had been obtained, and she didn’t want to think about it.  She put 50 ccs of the Legacy Virus into a needle.  Time to see the results on mutant flesh.  As Nancy steadied the slippery sample with one hand and aimed the needle with the other, she felt her slick gloves loosing their grip on the syringe.  She grabbed with her other hand, missed the barrel and jammed the steel tip deep into her glove.  Her other fumbling thumb pressed down on the plunger as Nancy felt the needle prick her skin.  The entire syringe flooded into her bloodstream, filling her with the killing fire. 

           

The lights came on.  “That’s the third time you’ve died, Nancy!” Adrienne Poe, general of the Eclipse Army shouted at her.  Adrienne was also known as Shade, and she looked every inch the mutant terror now.  “I sincerely hope you’ll perform better with the real virus than you do in the simulation!”  Nancy took off the helmet of her hazard suit. 

           

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” she said, her eyes downcast.  “This isn’t the sort of thing I’m used to.” 

           

“That’s what the damn simulations are for!” Adrienne shouted.  “Get use to it!” 

           

“Did you see the computer test?” asked Nancy hopefully.  “It worked really well in the computer.” 

           

“Well that’s just wonderful, Starling,” said Adrienne sarcastically.  “I’ll rent time on the jumbotron in Times Square and show the computer test to all the mutants in New York.  I’m sure they’ll all die horrible deaths.”  Behind Adrienne, Nancy saw Shawn Lacey, Adrienne’s field general, slink up to her shoulder. 

           

“Want me to give her some incentive, ma’am?” he asked, putting a hand on the hilt of his knife.  A smile flickered over Adrienne’s lips. 

           

“No, Shawn.  Nancy knows the cost of her failure.  Death by virus or death by knife, it’s the same thing if she fails us.”  She turned her cold silver eyes on Starling.  “Right, Nancy?”  Nancy felt a chill run through her, her feathers standing up.

           

“Yes, ma’am,” she whispered.

Xavier’s School for Gifted Children

February 2nd

10:33 am

           

“Good morning, Lauren,” said Professor Xavier, his holographic interface flickering. 

           

“Good morning, Professor,” said Lauren politely.  “I brought the generators back online last night, and their startup cycles have completed.  Everything should be back to full power.” 

           

“Excellent work,” said Xavier.  “My systems also show a complete restoration of power.  You’re a credit to my vision, Lauren.”  Lauren smiled slightly. 

           

“Glad to hear it, Professor.”  Professor Xavier’s brain inhabited the mainframe construct in front of Lauren, and appeared as a hologram of the man himself.  It was very realistic, but Lauren couldn’t get over the creepy feeling of talking to a ghost.  “I’ve been thinking,” she said aloud, “about what you said a few days ago.  About Cerebra.”  Xavier frowned at her. 

           

“Now, Lauren, I hope you won’t go trying any foolish stunts.  That system is a powerful tool and is not to be used lightly.  Your control of your telepathy is nowhere near the level required for Cerebra.” 

           

“But it would help us!” said Lauren, her voice more angry than she’d intended.  “There’s only four of us on the team, and face it, more members would help.  A lot.” 

           

“The matter is closed,” said Xavier. 

           

“Fine,” muttered Lauren, going to the door of the room. 

           

“And Lauren?” said Xavier as she went out.  “I have a twenty-four-hour monitor on Cerebra.  Please don’t get any silly ideas.” 

           

“The only silly idea I had was thinking you’d listen to me,” said Lauren sharply, and left the mainframe, slamming the door. 

           

Damien North was perched high in a pine tree, tracking the movements of a deer through the undergrowth in the wood around Xavier’s school, when his sensitive nose detected the odor of another mutant walking through the forest.  A moment later his equally sharp ears heard footsteps and breathing.  Damien growled slightly from his shadowy perch and swiveled to track his new target.  He slid his feet off his branch and hung by his arms for a moment, then dropped down in front of the intruder.  “Gotcha!”

           

“DAMIEN!” screamed the intruder.  Meg LeBeau, his girlfriend, Damien thought, hit him hard upside the head.  “You jerk!  What the hell are you doing skulking around in the treetops?!” 

           

“Ow!” said Damien, moving out of Meg’s range.  “That hurt.”

           

“You have a healing factor, you big wuss,” said Meg, angry.  Damien rubbed the spot on his skull, which soon stopped throbbing.

           

“Still hurts.” 

           

“You deserved it,” said Meg with a toss of her head.  Damien scuffed one booted foot in the carpet of pine needles. 

           

“Sorry.  I smelled you, and I thought you were someone who wasn’t supposed t’be out here.”  Meg sighed.

           

“Did it occur to you to look before you leaped, Rambo?”  Damien smiled sheepishly.

           

“Not really.”  Meg laughed and rolled her eyes. 

           

“The wrath of the Werewolf strikes again.” 

           

“Hey,” said Damien.  “I thought you liked the wrath of Werewolf.”  Meg linked her arm through his as they began to walk back towards the school. 

           

“Oh I do,” she said, planting a kiss on his cheek.  Damien stopped, lifting Meg’s chin, and kissed her gently on the lips.  “What was that for?” she said.  “Not that I minded or anything.” 

           

“I don’t honestly know,” said Damien.  “You just seemed kissable, so I thought, what the hell?”  Meg laughed.

           

“And so romantic, too.  Boy did I luck out.” 

           

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a real smartass?” asked Damien. 

           

“The Jedi Master of Non-magnetic Personalities told me this morning,” said Meg.  Damien frowned.

           

“Is he still giving you that ‘I should have been the leader of the X-Men’ crap?”  Meg shook her head.

           

“Not really.  I think he actually likes me, but he’s got that whole British crumpet-up-the-butt thing going on.”  Damien snorted. 

           

“How astute.”

           

“Thanks,” said Meg.  “I have a flash of brilliance from time to time.”  They reached the back door of the school and came into the warm kitchen.  “Ahh, heat,” said Meg.  She regarded Damien, in his ratty jean jacket with no gloves or hat.  “Aren’t you freezing?”

           

“Not really,” said Damien.  “Cold never bothered me.  My mutation, I think.” 

           

“Speaking of which,” said Meg, shedding her long coat, gloves and scarf.  “The reason I came to find you is that Lauren needs to take a sample of our blood.”  Damien made a face.

           

“Does she have to?  And is she even qualified to do that?”  Meg shrugged. 

           

“She was premed, and yes, Professor’s orders on the sample.” 

           

“Ooo,” said Damien sarcastically.  “Let us all bow down and worship the great and mighty god Xavier.”  Meg elbowed him.

           

“He’s not that bad.” 

           

“He’s got a crumpet up his butt, too,” said Damien.  “A big one.”  Darien came into the kitchen with a coffee mug just in time to hear Damien’s last line. 

           

“Talking about me behind my back again, Wolf-man?”  Damien bared his teeth in a half-snarl, half-smile. 

           

“Amazingly, no.” 

           

“Too bad,” said Darien, washing and drying his mug neatly.  “I always like to provide amusement to the lower classes.”  Meg put a firm hand on Damien’s chest to stop him from tackling Magneto. 

           

“Why don’t you go down to the lab and have Lauren take your sample?” she said.  Damien glared blackly at her.

           

“You wouldn’t be trying to placate me, would you?”  Meg glared back.

           

“Yes, as a matter of fact.  But if this works any better for you—get your butt down to the lab before I charge something up and ruin your day.” 

           

“All right, all right,” said Damien.  “Ms. Mood-Swing…are you PMSing or something?”  Meg’s evil stare caused him to turn and hurry out of the kitchen before he got a reply.

           

“Bit of a live wire, isn’t he?” asked Magneto.  Meg turned on him. 

           

“I swear to god, Darien, the next time you pick a fight with him I won’t stand between you.”  Darien looked at her mildly. 

           

“I never asked or needed you to do that.”  Meg walked over and stood so she was toe-to-toe with the taller man. 

           

“I’ll let you in on a little secret, Darien.  Contrary to all you may believe, I’m the leader of the X-Men, and I’m going to stay that way for a long time barring death or maiming.  Another thing—I don’t particularly like you, and if it takes Damien messing up your five-grand nose to hammer that home then so be it.  Stop causing trouble with my friends.”  She stepped away and dared him to challenge her.  Darien looked taken aback. 

           

“I—,” he sighed.  “You’re too touchy, Margaret.  I would never compromise the team’s integrity by allowing things to degenerate into violence.  Your response was proper, but you used a mace to kill a fly.”  He walked out of the kitchen, leaving Meg even more outraged than when she’d started in on him. 

Eidelstrauss, Bavaria, Germany

12:02 pm East German Time

Johann Wagner was praying for the strength to tell his father he was leaving.  The small chapel in the ancient monastery where Johann lived was conductive to prayer, but Johann knew his was probably futile.  Pray for strength—better to pray for a divine intervention, he thought.  He opened his eyes and got up off his knees.  He had to get this over with before he lost his nerve.  Johann looked around quickly to be sure no one was in view, and then quickly teleported himself from the chapel to the floor above it, appear in the hall outside his father’s quarters.  He did another check.  No one had seen him.  He sighed in relief.  “Why do you tempt fate, my son?” asked a voice at his shoulder.  Johann jumped.

           

“Father!”  He turned to face his parent, who was wearing a traditional monk’s robe and clerical collar.  “I didn’t see you…”  Kurt Wagner pressed a button on his wristwatch, and his blue furry coat and shining yellow eyes disappeared, replaced by the features of a middle-aged man with black hair. 

           

“Turning off your image inducer can sometimes be very useful,” Kurt smiled slightly.  “You do know I can blend with the shadows?”  Johann nodded.  Kurt became serious.  “What are you doing here, Johann?  And why are you using your powers where someone could catch you?”  Johann bit his lip.  It was now or never.  He relaxed, and allowed himself to shift back into his true form, which was also blue, furry and fanged.  Kurt looked furious.  “What are you doing?” he hissed. 

           

“Something I should have done a long time ago,” said Johann.  Kurt grabbed his arm and pushed him into his chambers, locking the door behind him.

           

“Johann, have you gone crazy?  Do you realize the repercussions if the brothers find out you’re a mutant?” 

           

“You mean if they find out you’re a mutant,” said Johann.  “Father, I know you’re afraid, and you have every reason to be, especially in a place like Eidelstrauss, but I don’t have to be.  I have more choices than that.”  Kurt pressed his lips together.

           

“I hope you’re not saying what I think you’re saying.”  Johann took a deep breath. 

           

“I’m leaving, Father.  I can’t stay here anymore, hiding who I am for the rest of my life.  I need to go someplace where I’ll be accepted.”

           

“You won’t find it,” said Kurt.  His anger left him, and he simply looked sad.  “I’ve seen mutants who looked as normal as we pretend to killed for no reason.  Humanity hates us, Johann, and there will be no safe haven if they see how you really look.”  He put a hand on Johann’s shoulder.  “Johann, I love you.  I don’t want to lose my only son.” 

           

“You won’t lose me, father,” said Johann.  “And I won’t be in danger.”  He smiled.  “I’m going to join the X-Men.” 

           

Kurt’s mouth worked silently for a moment before he choked out, “The who?” 

           

“The X-Men,” said Johann.  “I saw on American CNN that they’ve reformed.  That’s where I belong, father.  With people like me, who want to end this stupid hate.” 

           

“Johann…” started Kurt. 

           

“I know, father, I know you’ll say they’re just a terrorist group using the old name, and that I’m foolish and too idealistic and that I’ll get hurt and come crawling back ashamed, but I have to go!  I have to at least try!”  Kurt shook his head.

           

“I was only going to tell you to have a safe journey.”  Johann’s eyes widened as he looked at his father.  Kurt nodded to the unspoken question.  “You have your things packed?”

           

“Yes…” said Johann. 

           

“Good,” said Kurt.  “I’ll drive you to the airport in the morning.”  His mouth curved into a smile.  “Unless, of course, you would prefer the teleportation express.”  Johann laughed in victory. 

Westchester

1:45 pm Eastern Standard Time

“So what’s the verdict?” asked Meg as she looked over Lauren’s shoulder at the lab reports.  “Any exotic diseases or hidden biological discoveries that will makes us rich and famous, emphasis on rich?” 

           

“Nope, sad to say,” said Lauren.  “I did find some real interesting stuff when I analyzed yours and Damien’s blood, though.”  Meg sat on the edge of the counter in the makeshift medical lab that Lauren had assembled when a Sentinel unit destroyed the real one. 

           

“Shoot.”  

           

“Alright,” said Lauren.  “First comes you.”

           

“Goody,” said Meg, rubbing her hands together. 

           

“When I put your blood sample under the electron microscope, it, well…” Lauren tried to think of how to put the odd event.  “It absorbed the light.” 

           

“Say what?” said Meg.

           

“And then it exploded,” Lauren added.  Meg’s eyebrows went up. 

           

“Sorry ‘bout that.  What does it mean?”

           

“Well, your X-genes absorb electromagnetic energy,” said Lauren.  “And if you don’t release the buildup of stored energy, you go poof.”  Meg looked alarmed.

           

“Is there a danger of me going poof anytime soon?”  Lauren shook her head.

           

“No, you’d have to absorb a constant, large amount of energy to fill up your reservoir.  Like the power from Xavier’s construct.”  Lauren cast a baleful look at the door of the mainframe room. 

           

“Some bad mojo go down between you and Xavier?” asked Meg. 

           

“Nothing you need to worry about,” said Lauren, becoming businesslike again.  “Now Damien—his blood is very unusual, to say the least.”

           

“Well, yeah, the man’s a walking mass of regenerative cells,” said Meg. 

           

“His blood cells are bonded with some sort of alloy,” said Lauren.  “I think it’s a metal called adamantium.” 

           

“And it’s in his blood?” said Meg.  “What the hell does that mean?”  Lauren shrugged.

           

“Beats me.  I was only premed.”

           

“Is it helping or hindering him in any way?” asked Meg.

           

“Not that I can tell,” said Lauren.  “its just part of his blood, like hemoglobin or plasma.”  Meg nodded. 

           

“Okay.  That it?”  Lauren looked down at her last lab report. 

           

“Yeah.  That’s it.” 

           

“Well, thanks for the info,” said Meg.  “I’ll be upstairs if you’re lookin’ for me.”  Lauren nodded absently as Meg left, and then after the door shut sat down in her chair with a sigh.  The last lab report was a DNA analysis of all four of the X-Men.  According to the test, Meg and Darien were brother and sister.  Lauren had retested twice, hoping that there had been some mistake, but there was none.  The two were related, and Lauren had no idea how to tell them.  She couldn’t even bring herself to mention the test to Meg.  Lauren put her head down on the table.  Her life suddenly seemed very bleak. 

           

The med lab door opened again, and Lauren jumped into a sitting position.  “Meg, you forget something?”  Lauren froze when Meg was edged in the door, a soldier with a black uniform pressing a laser rifle into her back. 

           

“They jumped me, Laurie,” said Meg.  “Don’t know where Damien and Darien are.”  She looked down at her friend.  “I’m sorry.” 

           

“And well you should be!”  Adrienne Poe walked into the med lab with a flourish.  “Well, well, this is quaint.  Primitive, but quaint.”  Lauren’s blood ran cold when she saw Executor, Adrienne’s crazy right hand man enter the lab behind her.  “You ladies are to come with me,” said Adrienne.  “Shawn, please collect Ms. Grey-Summers.”  Executor jerked Lauren up roughly. 

           

“You won’t get away with this,” said Meg as she was marched out of the med lab after Lauren. 

           

“How trite,” said Adrienne.  “And how utterly untrue.” 

 

***     

TO BE CONTINUED...

 

©All original characters are copyright 2001 and 2002 by Caitlin Kittredge and may not be used without express permission by the author. All other characters are the property of Marvel Comics and are not authorized for Next X's use. No profit or attempted profit is being made by the Next X web comic.