Back to Gatefold#14 - "Civil Unrest - Part II"
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EDITOR'S NOTE: This story may contain scenes of graphic violence and sexual situations. It is recommended for mature readers.
In Case You're Just Joining Us: The Fallen Angels successfully kidnapped the prime minister of France in response to a proposed Mutant Registration Act within that country's parliament, further provoking the UN, who were already upset about the Angels' attack on a Beijing mutant abortion clinic. Back in Genosha, Magneto approached Gomi about being his Cabinet advisor on mutant/human relations, and the Acolytes began to scheme against Lord Magneto's rule. Meanwhile, Shatterstar encounters a group of mercenaries who, like him, have been recruited to help the human magistrates evacuate the island nation.
"You cannot simultaneously prevent and prepare for war."
- Albert Einstein (attributed)
Genosha. Avalon Tower, Living Quarters.
"He put you on his cabinet?"
"I know. Wild, huh?"
"I don't believe this," Chance said, leaning back against the footboard of her friend's bed. Gomi was propped up on the headboard facing her. "We spend years and years on Beat Street, living off of scraps, nothing ever changing except our voices when we hit puberty--and now, in like two weeks, Ariel's dead and you're a politician!"
Gomi pushed his thick-rimmed glasses back up on his nose with his thumb. "Advisor on mutant-human relations to Magneto, ruler of Genosha. That's me. When he asked to see me, I thought he was gonna kick me out of the country!"
"Meanwhile, I get to go out in the field and get shot at. Can you believe those assholes in France shot a friggin' rocket launcher at us?" Chance lit a cigarette, drew on it, then sighed out a plume of smoke and nudged Bill the Lobster, who was resting on the bed between them, with her toe. "At least I can count on you to stay the same, huh Bill?"
Bill snapped at her toe irritably with one claw.
"Fuck you too, Bill. Nice to see that some things don't change."
The Astral Plane.
The swimming colors and liquid shapes of the astral plane came together in the vision of two men: one a king, the other his servant.
Mikhail Brezhnev looked younger, stronger on the astral plane. He ran his psi-hand through a thick sheaf of hair he hadn't possessed in the physical world for nearly twenty years, and looked his master in the eye.
Erik Lehnsherr's mental projection was luminous, a bright, blood-red lord in knight's armor. His movements were stiff, but precise and eloquent. He stood several heads higher than Brezhnev here, and he looked down on him with impatience as his subordinate stalled to gather his thoughts.
"I'm doing my best, Lord Magneto," Brezhnev said. "But if you truly want any level of cooperation from the UN, you're going to have to curb the activities of this terrorist team of yours."
"The outside world has no proof that Genosha is affiliated with the Fallen Angels. I have made sure of this."
"No proof, yes. But they have enough suspicion to make up for whatever they're lacking in facts. It doesn't help that you were known to consort with them before they went on their current rampage."
Magneto was silent for a moment. "Holding them back is unacceptable, Alabaster. The Fallen Angels have autonomy to do as they will, and I will not rescind that decision."
"But Lord..." Brezhnev's psi-projection was becoming comically twisted as he struggled to keep his exasperation in check. "I was having enough trouble convincing the Security Council of your innocence after the incident in Beijing. And now I have reports that the prime minister of France has been kidnapped!"
"You will continue to hold the line, Alabaster. Tell them Genosha herself has no part in the terrorist actions of the Fallen Angels, and that my most immediate concern at this moment is getting the new Symkarian Embassy up and running."
Brezhnev considered his lord in silence for a moment, then finally nodded. Grudgingly. He wanted so badly to seize Magneto and shake him, but he could never do such a thing, even were they standing in the same room.
"All of Genosha appreciates the work you do for us as special liaison, Mikhail. I am confident you will not let us down."
Somewhere in Genosha.
"He could have drowned."
"He didn't drown."
"The last anybody saw him was that commissary brawl where Voght teleported everybody into the Bay. If he was stunned or something..."
"I don't buy it."
"Ric. I'm sorry man, but you're not thinking clearly about this."
"He didn't fucking drown, Roberto! Okay?"
Roberto DaCosta sighed and nodded. He was standing with his friend and teammate, Rictor, on the shoreline of Genosha's Hammer Bay, looking out on the lapping waves and the distant clouds of a passing storm. Genosha was a green and sunlit land today, but there was a veritable tempest skimming by about thirty miles into the sea.
Roberto didn't particularly want to be wasting this beautiful day on what he considered a fruitless search, but as leader of the Fallen Angels, he did have a responsibility to his teammates. He didn't think Shatterstar had drowned either, for whatever that was worth. More likely, he'd simply decided the life of a mutant terrorist wasn't for him and left. In any case, Roberto and Rictor weren't doing any good conducting a completely random search for the guy.
"Look... we've been at this for hours, Ric. I'm gonna run back into town and grab something to eat. You want to come?"
Rictor shook his head with a rueful sigh. "No. I wouldn't hate you for bringing me back a cheesesteak though."
"You got it." With a salute, Roberto activated the black energy effect that marked him as Sunspot, and rose into the air.
Downtown Hammer Bay was still mostly in ruins from the prolonged fighting with the human magistrates, but Magneto's domestic forces had managed to encircle and protect ten square blocks to such an extent that real commerce was beginning to take hold again. As he rocketed across the disputed zone, Roberto noted that there didn't appear to be any fighting going on anywhere in the city today--magistrate activity had been dropping off sharply over the last several weeks, so much so that some were beginning to talk about a light at the end of the tunnel--and the commerce district was abuzz with activity. The good weather was bringing out the best in everyone, it seemed.
Hammer Bay didn't have any fast food joints--yet--but they did have a couple of restaurants that catered to the domestic forces, meaning they supplied take-out. Roberto dropped to the street next to a building that had been a lawyer's office under the magistrates but was now a Philly cheesesteak house. The improvement, in Roberto's estimation, was immeasurable.
The place was mostly empty. It was the middle of the afternoon, and the lunch crowd would have already been and gone. When he entered, a few faces made friendly and beautiful by the springtime air and the cessation of hostilities regarded him briefly, then returned to their conversations or their meals. Only one set of eyes remained fixed on him as he crossed the floor.
"'Berto!" the dwarf behind the counter bellowed in a thick Hispanic accent. He was a fat man with very dark skin and a round, jovial face, wearing an apron and a white chef's hat. He was barely three feet tall, and he had to stand on the counter in order to see over it.
"Juan," Roberto grinned in return as he reached the counter. Their friendship had been fast and easy since Roberto had discovered Juan hailed from his own native Brazil. The fact that Juan's superhumanly acute senses--specifically, his sense of smell--made him probably the best cook Roberto had ever had the opportunity to patronize only cemented the deal.
Roberto ordered two cheesesteaks with everything along with an order of home fries, and Juan rushed around the counter to fill the order. He had a wheeled cart back there that allowed him to move back and forth over the high stove, and he slid expertly back and forth, throwing beef and a rainbow of vegetables down on the spotless grill.
"Something's gone wrong, Juan," Roberto reported gravely while the dwarf worked. "Everybody seems happy to live in Genosha today."
Juan roared laughter. "Ain't it the truth!" he agreed, and his accent made the last two words come out, 'da troot'. "I done more business today than the whole last week combined! No goddamn magistrates showed up for weeks, not since the hospital. The sun is shining, the birds are singing. It feels like spring out there, you know?"
"Let's hope it lasts a while."
"Hell, I'll be happy if it only lasts for today! As soon as they open it up and start bringing in the chain restaurants, I'll probably go outta business in a week."
"I think you underestimate the loyalty of your clientele."
"First rule of restauranting, Roberto: Loyalty means nada when the customers ain't had a Whopper in a year. Hell, I might put myself outta business just so I can go get one myself."
Juan rolled expertly backward, scooped up two bread rolls without looking, sliced them as he was rolling back to the oven, then slapped all four pieces face down on the stove and began pushing the vegetables and meat into two equal piles. Sixty seconds later, he was setting two cheesesteaks, rolled in butcher's paper, onto the counter.
"Put it on the big man's account?" Juan asked, flicking his eyes vaguely in the direction of Avalon Tower.
"Please." Roberto thanked him, picked up the sandwiches, and turned toward the door. He was just pushing it open when Juan called his name. He turned back.
"Roberto! You forgot your fries, amig--"
And the world went as white as the sun.
The explosion blew Juan and his cheesesteak shop and most of his customers to pieces, and the only thing that saved Roberto DaCosta's life was the fact that he was standing in front of an open door. The blast wave hammered him backward through it, along with what seemed like a mountain of debris, pelting him and threatening to do even more damage than the heat of the explosion was doing.
He landed very hard in the street, and felt the arm he landed on break neatly above the elbow as he slid limply across the pavement to the opposite walk. He'd dropped the sandwiches at some point, or maybe they'd been vaporized right in his hands. He wasn't sure.
There were more explosions, up and down the street. Mutants were running and flying and slithering in panic all around him. He rolled, tried to get to his feet, but the street flip-flopped in his vision and he was suddenly on his back again. He tried once more, with exactly the same result.
More screaming and the wail of the wounded and the heartbroken. The explosions seemed to be done at least, but there was an ear-splitting CRACK from overhead, and the ten-story building that had been standing next to Juan's cheesesteak house came raining down into the street, its structure weakened by the blast. A chunk of masonry the size of a city dumpster hurtled directly toward Roberto and, lying in the street as he was, he knew there was no way he could get out of the way in time.
He activated his power, and at the last possible moment before the brick and mortar would have crushed him, he swung his remaining good arm at it.
Half of the boulder shattered like glass, and Roberto turned his face away as the shrapnel flew in every direction. The other half smashed into the walk beside him, then toppled gently over and slammed down over his legs, pinning them to the ground.
He had no strength left. The Sunspot energy effect flickered out and Roberto lay helpless underneath that rubble, barely conscious.
"DaCosta."
Roberto opened his eyes. Standing over him was a long-haired man built like a weightlifter. Roberto recognized him immediately as Sven Kleinstock, one half of the notorious Kleinstock Brothers and member in long-standing of the Acolytes. This made him an ally.
So Bobby was utterly confused by the slow smile that spread across the man's face.
"Help... me..."
"No," Sven said. There were some shouts from the end of the block, and he turned quickly in that direction. For a moment he seemed torn, until finally he shook his head at Bobby and hurried away in the direction of the shouts.
The last thing Roberto DaCosta saw before unconsciousness stole over him was the fire burning its way across what had, five minutes ago, been a haven of safety.
"I hate to admit it," Bobbi Chase said, lowering the binoculars from her eyes, "but it looks like the kid was right."
"Hate to admit it because he was right, chica, or because he proved we were wrong about the last site?"
"Both." She stood up and looked over at her partner in the Harriers, Ranger. Jesus Suarez was a lean Hispanic man, and possibly the best unenhanced tracker in the business. The two of them were standing atop a cliff that sprang a hundred and fifty feet out of the Indian Ocean, on the western shore of Genosha.
"There's a bare sliver of beach down there. You can't even see it with the naked eye from up here, but it's plenty big enough to launch the refugee boats from when we shuttle the magistrates out of here."
"And this Shatterstar kid just came up with this off the top of his head."
"Yeah. Apparently he made a hobby out of improving border security before our clients kidnapped him. This was obviously one of the spots that needed improvement." She pulled a tiny radio off of her belt and keyed it. "Warhawk, report."
"It's clean, Blindside," was the response. Far below them, they could see the exhaust trail from the jetpack worn by Tom Nakadai, the Harrier codenamed Warhawk, as he moved back and forth over the cliff face. "I've done six flybys, hit it with every kind of active and passive detection equipment I can carry. If there's anybody stashed here, we ain't gonna see 'em until they want to be seen."
"That's not good enough, Warhawk. I want you to do a visual of the entire cliffside, and a tactile every twenty-five feet."
The voice at the end sputtered. "Tactile? Bobbi--that's crazy!"
"And it's exactly what Hardcase would have you do, so don't argue. Just do it." She turned the radio off and put it back on her belt.
"Little rough with him, weren't you?" Ranger asked. He was squatting right at the rocky edge of the cliff.
"Can't be helped. We dropped the ball in a big way at the last site, and I want to make absolutely certain this Shatterstar isn't setting us up."
"You think he is?"
Blindside was quiet for a moment, a sudden gust whipping her short hair forward. "No, I don't. But I'm not as ready to trust him as our magistrate friends are, either."
"Pretty tough customer. I heard he put Axe down without raising a sweat."
"You heard right. He may not look like much, but he moves like a red-headed Bruce Lee."
Ranger chewed on this, working over how to phrase the next obvious question. Finally he just spit it out. "You think we're gonna be able to handle him when he finds out what the magistrates are really up to?"
"We'd better be able. Or a whole lot of people are going to die for our incompetence."
Tabitha Smith had been walking the halls of Avalon Tower for almost an hour--no destination in mind, just taking the bends in the corridor as they came and switching floors when she got bored with the scenery. Her mind was racing around ten different thoughts and concerns, and her feet seemed determined to keep pace with them.
She had slept with Roberto. Again. Okay, no, there hadn't been any real sleeping involved. Not even a bed in fact, as they'd fucked in the shower, but still. Fucked him again, despite the fact that he was a self-centered asshole who had about as much interest in her as he had in a particularly tasty cut of steak. At least they hadn't fought afterward this time, but that was probably mostly thanks to the fact that she'd gotten dressed and left as soon as she was dried off.
Oh well, at least the sex was good. Who was she to make things weird by getting too cuddly? Lord knew she could use some TLC--Sam Guthrie had taught her to appreciate a man who treated her well--but she certainly didn't need to grow too attached to anyone right now. Not when any of them could be killed at any moment.
She would never admit as much to Roberto, but she loved that part of this Fallen Angels gig--hell, some days it was probably the only thing that kept her from running back to Sam and begging forgiveness. Sometime after they'd arrived in Genosha, she'd realized that there was no way she could go back home after something like this. The X-Men and all their offshoots were all about second chances, but she'd never be accepted back into that fraternity in the way she'd been before, not after joining Magneto. And after what they'd done in Beijing...well, suffice to say she didn't think she'd ever be welcome in Westchester again. And that realization had lent a carelessness to her actions that she reveled in. There really was no going back, so the only way was forward. And who cared if it might end up being the wrong direction, at least she was moving.
She barely registered the vaguely familiar woman brushing by her in the hall, and gave her no thought whatsoever until the woman entered a nearby door that at that same moment was being exited by the Fallen Angel called Feral. The two women stopped and spoke quietly to each other, and it wasn't until the white-haired one--the one that had brushed by Tabby--laughed at something Feral said that her identity clicked in Meltdown's mind.
The two women had moved apart, Feral moving down the hall toward Tabby and the white-haired girl disappearing into the room on the other side of the door.
"Maria," Tabitha called, moving to intercept her. "Feral!"
Feral raised her eyes, hunching a little as if she expected an attack. She relaxed when she spotted Tabitha, but her posture was still notably feline and guarded.
"Yeah?" Feral demanded.
"Was that--was that Siena Blaze you just talked to?"
Feral looked back toward the room she'd just left and Tabby followed her eyes. A nameplate read, NYOTA CHAISIKU, Psychiatric Consultant. "Yeah," she said finally.
"I didn't know she'd come out of her coma."
Feral shrugged. "She did."
"Wasn't she staying in Mother of Hope?"
"Hell if I know. If you got questions, why don't you just go ask her?"
Because she could blow me and this building and most of this city to kingdom come if I started to annoy her, Tabby thought. But something else had occurred to her, a thought she didn't even want to entertain. Blaze had been at the hospital before it was destroyed, she was sure of it. From what she'd heard, there'd been some sort of electrical storm at the site following the explosion and before Magneto arrived to deal with it.
And now here was Siena Blaze. Awake and functioning, walking around like she owned the place, in fact. What the hell--?
An electronic wail sounded from overhead and red emergency lights began to flash up and down the hallway. Meltdown and Feral both looked up, and Tabby would swear later that she'd actually heard Feral make a startled hiss at the noise.
"ATTENTION. BY ORDER OF LORD MAGNETO, ALL COMBAT AND PROTECTION FORCES ARE TO REPORT TO THE COMMERCE DISTRICT IMMEDIATELY. REPEAT: ALL COMBAT AND PROTECTION FORCES ARE TO REPORT TO THE COMMERCE DISTRICT OF HAMMER BAY IMMEDIATELY. UNITS SHOULD LIAISE WITH THEIR COMMANDING OFFICERS ONCE THEY'VE ARRIVED ON SITE TO RECEIVE SPECIAL INSTRUCTIONS. THIS MESSAGE WILL REPEAT--"
Tabitha looked down at Feral, but the cat-woman was gone, slipped away while she was listening to the announcement. "Good," she decided. "One less psycho to deal with."
Then she turned and sprinted toward the elevator.
The maps were slightly out of date, but between the satellite images Hardcase had downloaded before bringing his team into Genosha, and Shatterstar's razor-sharp memory, they were able to determine which roads were still there and which ones weren't. The most difficult part of evacuating the magistrates and their families was going to be transporting several hundred people from the tunnels beneath Hammer Bay on the east coast of the island to the planned launch sites on the west coast. It would have been easier to launch from the east, but that would have meant circumnavigating the entire island to reach the African mainland. And everyone was in agreement that border security was simply too tight on the east coast.
Activity continued unabated all around them, as the various magistrate families, former masters of this land, hurried across the cavernous main hall to gather what they would need for the journey, and to destroy what they wouldn't. Tempers were beginning to flare as the deadline approached, and Talib Singh Chauhan and some of the other senior magistrates had mediated more than one fistfight today.
"Maybe if we traveled by night," Magistrate Henri Diesing suggested.
"That will draw them right to you," Shatterstar insisted. "No one travels outside of Hammer Bay at night. You'll be canceled before you get two miles. This is a rerun, magistrate, we've been over this. The trucks are the best chance you've got, and their ruse will only work if you go during the day."
"Either way, it's going to be dangerous," Hardcase agreed. "I think I have to back up Shatterstar on this one. We can't cross the island without light, and the light will give away our position if we go at night. We'll just have to cross during the day and hope we can fool 'em with--"
Shatterstar stiffened suddenly, catching the eye of everyone at the table and cutting off Hardcase in mid-sentence. He looked around, eyes sliding past the magistrate drones going about their chores, until he caught sight of the source of his distraction.
A young girl was crying nearby, and the cause was obviously the grown man squeezing her arm in one fist and roaring in her face. Other refugees were just walking by, casting uncomfortable, sidelong glances at the duo but making no move to interfere. On the ground at the girl's feet was a beaten Raggedy Ann doll.
Shatterstar spun about, and was taking what would be the first step on a path that would only end with the sound of the bully's jaw breaking, when Magistrate Chauhan's hand fell on his arm.
"No," he said firmly. "We need you here, and that is not your affair."
"He's hurting her."
"He is her father. He is doing her no real harm, and it is his right to discipline her as he sees fit."
Shatterstar's eyes went back to the little girl. He'd met her just yesterday, he realized. Caroline. She had complimented him on his hair.
"Shatterstar. Will you enforce your will and your ways upon us now?"
He looked around at Talib again. The man was not his friend, but Shatterstar trusted and respected him as much as he could trust and respect someone who'd once worked for a government built on the back of mutant slaves. So he gave Caroline and her father one more look and then, with much effort, turned back toward the table.
"Right," Hardcase said. "Now, about the trucks..."
And as the old soldier spoke, Shatterstar wondered how many other principles he would betray before this was over.
"I know what happened before I came here," Siena Blaze was saying as she paced across the floor of Nyota Chaisiku's treatment room. "It's like somebody threw a switch in my head, and everything that I'd forgotten came flooding back in. I know who I am."
Nyota nodded. The chair she was seated in was positioned facing a couch that Siena had remained on for exactly twelve seconds before the pacing had started, right after they both heard the alarm and the general call to assembly in the commerce district. Nyota was sure it was this, more than her returned memory, that was causing Siena's current agitation.
"That's wonderful. And you have no idea what caused this epiphany?"
Siena's face darkened for a moment, then she shook her head. "Not a clue." She turned and moved toward the window.
"You can't see the commerce district from here, Siena. Let's concentrate on your treatment, please."
"My treatment!" Siena rounded on her, stark white hair flapping and her eyes flashing. "I don't need treatment anymore! I'm cured, don't you see? I remember now."
"Just because you remember doesn't mean you aren't likely to slip back into one of your previous personalities again. We must be sure--"
Siena threw her hands up. "Oh, I'm sure, all right. I'm sure that you're never going to give me a clean bill of health." She dropped her arms and her eyes narrowed. "That's the way it is, isn't it? You're never going to tell Magneto it's all right to put me in the field because you don't want me in the field."
Nyota sighed. "Let's not do this again, Siena. I'm not the source of your frustration, and we both know it."
The younger woman kept that smoldering gaze on the psychiatrist for a few moments longer, and then her eyes cleared. Her back straightened, and a small smile touched her lips.
"That's right. You're not the source of my frustration. You're nothing. Nothing for me to get upset about." She began walking for the door.
Nyota began to rise. "Where are you going?"
"To my room. The session is over."
"Shouldn't I be the one to decide that?"
"Not today. I'm just not in the mood." Siena opened the door and grinned back at Nyota, as if daring her to use her mutant gift to put Siena to sleep, as she'd done several days ago. "Reschedule? Call my people and we'll set it up. See you later."
And then she was gone, leaving the other woman torn over whether to follow her or just to let her go. She didn't want to push Blaze too far, not with her mercurial personality and apocalyptic mutant gift, but she also suspected the girl was even now running off to join the fracas in the city.
But Nyota knew she couldn't stop Blaze, not without taking her by surprise, and Nyota was reasonably certain her patient would blow this entire building to kingdom come before letting Nyota knock her out again. No, all she could do was report this to Magneto, and hope that the master of magnetism came to his senses sometime soon and just got rid of the madwoman.
She crossed to her window and looked out on the peaceful, if mostly demolished, streets to the north of the towers. She wondered what was happening on the other side, in the commerce district.
"Roberto! Jesus!"
Sunspot was still lying in the street when Tabby found him, pinned beneath the chunk of rubble that had fallen across his legs. He wasn't moving, and his head was bleeding badly.
Mutants were running past all up and down the street, some in a panic, some with a purpose. In the ten minutes since Tabby had arrived, it was becoming harder and harder to tell the difference. She reached out and grabbed the arm of a passing male who looked big and fairly unruffled.
"Help me!" she said. "We have to get this off of him!"
The big guy gave her a skeptical look. "I don't know, lady. He looks--"
"Just do it, damnit!"
He nodded and crouched down next to Roberto's head. Together, the two of them heaved. Tabitha had been hoping the man's mutation was super-strength. It wasn't, but their combined natural strength was enough to shift the shelf of brick and mortar off to the side.
"They say there were more than a dozen pipe bombs all around the district," the guy said as they pushed. "Nearly flattened the place, and the death toll's probably going to top what happened at the hospital last month."
Tabby ignored him, twisting her jaw to activate her microphone. "Chance, bring the shuttle over to Toynbee Street. I've found Roberto."
The big guy was gaping at her. "You're one of Magneto's personal forces, aren't you?" he demanded. "Where is he? Why isn't he here helping us?"
"Your guess is good as mine," Tabitha said, and promptly forgot he was there while she worked to stop the bleeding in Roberto's head. After a time, she looked up and he was gone, and the other bystanders were scrambling away as Chance brought the sleek black shuttle down in the street nearby.
"Magneto."
Erik Magnus Lehnsherr opened his eyes and sighed in frustration. Then, with a small kick, he spun his office chair away from the window and faced his visitor.
"Your foothold in the city has been decimated," Amelia Voght said, stepping forward and jabbing an accusatory finger at him. "Your people are dying. Why aren't you out there helping them?"
"Because, Amelia," he replied, not bothering to rise from his chair, "I am attempting to help them from in here. I am scanning the rest of the city for the magnetic signatures of more bombs and, failing that, some indication of how our enemies were able to pierce the lines around the commerce district."
Amelia's mouth tightened, and she stepped backward, farther into the shadows. "You're needed down there, Magneto. To convince the people you give a damn about them if nothing else. Let me teleport you there now."
"I will descend when I am ready!" Magneto hissed, his hands tightening on the arms of his chair. His facade of calm pulled away for a moment, and Amelia saw just how worn and exhausted the man was. If she had been anyone else, she thought he might have thrown her out the window by now. "If another bomb goes off while I am en route, what will I have accomplished besides letting more of the people under my care die? Now leave me!"
Nodding curtly, Amelia vanished. And Erik Magnus Lehnsherr turned back toward the window to resume his search.
Mikhail Brezhnev took the podium before the UN Security Council to an explosion of questions and disapproving roars. He cleared his throat, tapped his notes into a neat stack, and waited for the tumult to die down before he spoke.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he began. "I have addressed the concerns of this council regarding the incident in Paris to Lord Magnus, and though he sends his regrets to the people of France, he reiterates his earlier assertion that these Fallen Angels--if they are truly the same group he was affiliated with months ago--have no connection with Genosha and its--"
The rest was swallowed by an indignant uproar. Brezhnev stopped and sighed, then looked to the secretary general, waiting for him to call the room to order. The secretary general was making no move to do so, but he was giving Brezhnev an amused, knowing look. Not for the first time, Mikhail Brezhnev got the unnerving impression that the man could see right through him.
"Mr. Brezhnev," a new, heavily-accented voice said, and despite its low volume, the angry shouts died immediately. All heads turned as the representative from France rose from his seat and addressed the podium.
"The people of France are not interested in these lies," he said. He was slightly overweight, but tall and with a bearded face that made one think of tenured college professors. He had not joined in the shouting, had not even opened his mouth until now, but his unflappable exterior was a little <i>too</i> stiff, masking an obvious inner rage. "Genosha wishes to appease this council, and yet it attacks members in secret and hides behind lies. No more. To the people of France, the attack on our parliament was an act of war, and we will treat it as such.
"As we speak, a fleet of warships have set sail for Genosha. This fleet will lay siege to the island until such time as the prime minister is returned to us, or these Fallen Angels are brought to account for their crimes against France. We have not petitioned the UN for permission for such an action, and we are not asking for it now. This is a French matter, and the people of France will see it through to its conclusion.
"That is all, Mr. Brezhnev."
The French representative took his seat and, once again, the room exploded with raised voices. For just a moment, Mikhail Brezhnev let his eyes flutter closed. Whatever happened now, people were going to die, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.
It was all in Magneto's hands now.
POSTMARK: GENOSHA
Big, big thanks to stalwart Mike McGee for the plug he gave this series on the Heroes mailing list. He included it with such luminaries as Derrick Ferguson's Frankenstein and the Monster From Hell over at Subculture, and Chris Munn's Darkhold series. Mike's the coolest, and his plug has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he wrote a bitchin' Feral story for the Angels' 2002 Annual. No, really. Honest.
Got two BIG reviews from review-meister Brent Lambert, one for the annual, and one for issue #13. Brent writes Exiles for us here at M2K, and will soon also be writing Avengers. Take it, Brent.
Fallen Angels Annual 2002 by Russ Anderson, Mike McGee, Tom Lynch, Alex Cook, and some nobody named Bill J.
That would be Bill Kte'pi, though he does like to masquerade as Billy J, rapper-at-large. Don't let him know we know about his dual identity though, that'd take all the fun out of it.
Okay first off when I saw this on the new releases I damn near had a heart attack. I had been waiting for months for this and it showcases some of fanfic's best on arguably Russ's best title to date. Now onto the stories each one of them did shall we.
Russ's story with Blaze shows he has a tight grasp on her character, what she's all about, and he even managed to fit in some nice continuity tidbits in there. I love the way he describes Blaze's sex scene because it simply blew me away and at the same time made you gulp that kind of nervous gulp. Let's just put it this way; Blaze is one tough cookie and I like her that way. The only thing I don't think I liked about this story was the beginning scene with Black Knight, Reaper, and Blaze heading back to Marvel Proper. I felt that scene could have had so much more description and I could have really got a grip on the experience she was undergoing.
The funny thing is, I almost cut that scene out altogether. The story was already creeping up to about the size of one of my regular issues, and that sequence didn't really do anything except act as a bridge from Siena's Ultraverse appearances. Ended up leaving it in, obviously, but I'm not sure I agree with the making-it-longer idea.
Onward to Mike's Feral story which I warn now isn't for the faint of heart. It's gruesome, confusing at times, and gritty as hell just like Feral. A mere review can't describe the sheer rawness this story had to it. I was almost compelled to read the story over again just to see if I had missed anything. It was that jarring and unnerving. I had thought my Candra story in the Gambit Annual had been a rough one, but Mike turned it up to the tenth degree. It seemed like an experimental piece and it paid off quite nicely in this reader's opinion.
I almost tossed the Siena story out after reading Mike's. Everybody really pulled out the stops on their contributions to this annual, but Mike's was truly exceptional, even when compared to his impressive body of work. I was just glad I got the guy to do a story for the annual.
Tom's Rictor story was the most stable piece in this annual and that?s not necessarily a bad thing because I don't think Tom's writing leans toward that type or unstable stuff anyway. Instead he gives us a piece that gets a little more into the head of Julio and his thoughts on the events taking place in his life particularly his getting frisky with Feral and the disappearance of his friend, Shatterstar. Mr. Lynch writes how someone would deal with having sex with a mutant cat in a pretty realistic manner. My only problem with the story was the role Uniscone played in it. I think it should have been more of an internal piece dealing with the emotions, thoughts, and feelings of Rictor. Though this story has given a bit more depth to Rictor and has made him as a result a more interesting character.
I can't speak for Tom, but he expressed some overall displeasure with this story to me, particularly the Unuscione bit. I thought it worked fine against the other introspective pieces in the annual. Not Tom's best work (that would have to be Cloak & Dagger at MV1), but a solid story all around.
After reading Alex's Fallen Angels story I'm pretty positive that Russ chose a very worthy successor to his Fallen Angels masterpiece. Alex did something so cool with Boomer's powers I won't even describe them here. You'll have to read the story for yourself. Boomer and Blaze are two of my favorite Angels though I constantly bash Blaze in chats just for the hell of it. Yeah that's just the kind of guy I am. Anyway Alex writes Boomer in such a way that I'm confident that the title will not fall in quality. Add into the fact that I liked his Man-Bat so much I'm sure Fallen Angels will continue to be a talked about title. Of course that's if he manages to put arcs quicker than in five months (just jiving ya Russ)
I don't remember for sure, but I don't think I picked Alex, I just got very lucky in that this very talented guy wanted to pick up the pieces once I was done wrecking the joint (and trust me, Fallen Angels under Alex is going to be a very different animal than Fallen Angels under Russ, precisely because of all the stuff that's going to happen over the next four issues). I can't wait to see what he does on the book, frankly.
Onto the last story, which was presented, by Bill and it focused on Gomi. He was a character I first got some exposure to in fanfic from Shawn's X-Force run at MV1. I didn't like him too much there so when I heard Russ was adding him to the Fallen Angels roster I wasn't all too excited. Russ has changed that especially with FA #13, but to be honest Bill's story was so-so. It didn?t have any punch or that energetic excitement his writing usually has. I felt like he drudged through writing this because I felt like I was drudging through it as I read it. If this piece would have been from any other writer in fanfic it would have gotten pretty high marks from me, but with Bill's standard of excellence you pretty much except him to keep it up constantly. Though I know that's impossible and there are slip-ups. I believe this Gomi story was one of them.
To each his own, I guess. I loved Bill's Gomi story, and rank it just behind Mike's Feral story as my favorite of the annual. In fact, that Gomi tale will have an indirect effect on how I'm handling an upcoming story point in "Civil Unrest"
Overall, this was a pretty good annual collection and I think it will be a standard for other annual anthologies to live up to IMO. Good show fellas and start writing them Fallen Angels issues Alex!
Amen, brother. What are you waiting for, Alex? I only have 4 issues left, man!
In order to prove he's the most prolific review-monkey in fanfic, Brent also reviewed issue #13. His thoughts are as follows:
A new FA issue at last!! I was starting to suffer withdrawals here. Finally Russ comes back and gives us the beginning of his last FA tale and boy what a way he starts it off. Genosha has to answer for its actions in China when the Fa Clinic was destroyed. The delegate to the UN seemed to be a nervous, fidgety guy and not at all someone who should have been a delegate. I'm not sure if the Secretary General unnerved the guy or he was just a sorry delegate. I can't say I liked this guy too much though. He did serve for a good continuity connection though with the eeriness of the Secretary General and the events happening in Excalibur. If I had my guess I would say the Secretary General is Kulan Gath. Anyway that's another discussion for another day.
My handling of the Sec-Gen was absolutely a reference to David Wheatley's ominous presentation of him over in Excalibur. I've got my own ideas about what's going on there, but only David knows for sure.
As for Alabaster, give the guy a chance. Can you think of a more thankless job than convincing the world's politicians that Magneto isn't trying to kill them?
So after the UN deal the Fallen Angels are in France basically to kidnap the Prime Minister and convince him not to allow a Mutant Registration Act to pass in his country. It's quite funny when Le Peregrine tries to take on the Fallen Angels and gets his booty smacked hard. It was basically like Punisher trying to take on Mephisto solo. He might have the guts, but he sure as hell doesn't have the power to accomplish it.
I tried to do Le Peregrine a solid, as I did with the Collective Man, presenting him in a formidable light. But you're absolutely right. There just ain't that much there to work with. Glad it worked for you in any case.
The Fallen Angels succeed in capturing the Prime Minister and they're going to hold him out in some crummy place until he either caves in not allowing the Mutant Registration Act to pass or they just kill him to get the point. Either way their philosophy is flawed, but I don't think Zeus coming down on a thunderbolt to tell them could convince them otherwise. Which is part of the beauty of Fallen Angels. These guys are so intent on their mission that they don't give a damn about anything that would try to get in their way. I can understand that in some cases, but not in all. That also makes you love and hate these guys all at the same time. You're like "Man you're doing the right thing, just going the wrong way about it!? and you just wish you could go in the story and tell them, but you're forced to see their lives play out before your eyes.
Now my favorite part of the issue was when Gomi had to meet with Magneto if not only for the implications of the story itself. Mags pretty much offers Gomi the position of a sort of human relations boss for Genosha. Gomi readily accepts, as I'm sure anyone in his position would. I know I would have accepted in a heartbeat if not only to bring about some change in even the smallest way to the country. There is so much opportunity and story potential in this development it could carry on for a while to come. Russ looks at this title in terms of the long term by doing the simplest of things. The stuff Russ does in this title has effect and it will continue to have effect across the scope of the M2K universe. The effects of the Fa Clinic story will be felt in Exiles for a while to come since the destruction of Collective Man pretty much lead to the events of #2-5 of Exiles. If only Sunspot knew the ripples he would create I wonder if he would have still attacked the clinic?
Oh sure he would have. I mean, how boring would the title be if Bobby didn't do the wrong thing all the time?
Probably the most touching part of this issue was when Shatterstar talked to a young Genoshan girl. It gave me that warm smile that you get when you meet a nice little kid and they ask you all these incredibly silly questions, but you can't help but to answer them anyway.
I was hesitant to use Caroline at all, as I think she's a walking, talking cliche, but she'll be appearing later on in the arc, and will be quite pivotal to Shatterstar's actions throughout. So she stays. I'm glad she worked for you, in any case.
Russ is taking the Fallen Angels in a bold and dangerous new direction with his last arc. The way this seems to be going I don't think everyone is going to walk out of it alive.
You would be correct.
Oh, and before I forget, milk advocate and writer of half the new titles on the site, Moo, had this to say about the annual.
FALLEN ANGELS ANNUAL 2002 by Various
5/5 (Must Read)
So this is why they call them the best writers in fanfic.
I'm not going to say anything anymore, 'kay?
And here I thought "best" referred to their prowess in the sack. You lied to me, Tom Lynch! You lied!
In Case You're Just Joining Us: The Fallen Angels successfully kidnapped the prime minister of France in response to a proposed Mutant Registration Act within that country's parliament, further provoking the UN, who were already upset about the Angels' attack on a Beijing mutant abortion clinic. Back in Genosha, Magneto approached Gomi about being his Cabinet advisor on mutant/human relations, and the Acolytes began to scheme against Lord Magneto's rule. Meanwhile, Shatterstar encounters a group of mercenaries who, like him, have been recruited to help the human magistrates evacuate the island nation.
"You cannot simultaneously prevent and prepare for war."
- Albert Einstein (attributed)
Genosha. Avalon Tower, Living Quarters.
"He put you on his cabinet?"
"I know. Wild, huh?"
"I don't believe this," Chance said, leaning back against the footboard of her friend's bed. Gomi was propped up on the headboard facing her. "We spend years and years on Beat Street, living off of scraps, nothing ever changing except our voices when we hit puberty--and now, in like two weeks, Ariel's dead and you're a politician!"
Gomi pushed his thick-rimmed glasses back up on his nose with his thumb. "Advisor on mutant-human relations to Magneto, ruler of Genosha. That's me. When he asked to see me, I thought he was gonna kick me out of the country!"
"Meanwhile, I get to go out in the field and get shot at. Can you believe those assholes in France shot a friggin' rocket launcher at us?" Chance lit a cigarette, drew on it, then sighed out a plume of smoke and nudged Bill the Lobster, who was resting on the bed between them, with her toe. "At least I can count on you to stay the same, huh Bill?"
Bill snapped at her toe irritably with one claw.
"Fuck you too, Bill. Nice to see that some things don't change."
The Astral Plane.
The swimming colors and liquid shapes of the astral plane came together in the vision of two men: one a king, the other his servant.
Mikhail Brezhnev looked younger, stronger on the astral plane. He ran his psi-hand through a thick sheaf of hair he hadn't possessed in the physical world for nearly twenty years, and looked his master in the eye.
Erik Lehnsherr's mental projection was luminous, a bright, blood-red lord in knight's armor. His movements were stiff, but precise and eloquent. He stood several heads higher than Brezhnev here, and he looked down on him with impatience as his subordinate stalled to gather his thoughts.
"I'm doing my best, Lord Magneto," Brezhnev said. "But if you truly want any level of cooperation from the UN, you're going to have to curb the activities of this terrorist team of yours."
"The outside world has no proof that Genosha is affiliated with the Fallen Angels. I have made sure of this."
"No proof, yes. But they have enough suspicion to make up for whatever they're lacking in facts. It doesn't help that you were known to consort with them before they went on their current rampage."
Magneto was silent for a moment. "Holding them back is unacceptable, Alabaster. The Fallen Angels have autonomy to do as they will, and I will not rescind that decision."
"But Lord..." Brezhnev's psi-projection was becoming comically twisted as he struggled to keep his exasperation in check. "I was having enough trouble convincing the Security Council of your innocence after the incident in Beijing. And now I have reports that the prime minister of France has been kidnapped!"
"You will continue to hold the line, Alabaster. Tell them Genosha herself has no part in the terrorist actions of the Fallen Angels, and that my most immediate concern at this moment is getting the new Symkarian Embassy up and running."
Brezhnev considered his lord in silence for a moment, then finally nodded. Grudgingly. He wanted so badly to seize Magneto and shake him, but he could never do such a thing, even were they standing in the same room.
"All of Genosha appreciates the work you do for us as special liaison, Mikhail. I am confident you will not let us down."
Somewhere in Genosha.
"He could have drowned."
"He didn't drown."
"The last anybody saw him was that commissary brawl where Voght teleported everybody into the Bay. If he was stunned or something..."
"I don't buy it."
"Ric. I'm sorry man, but you're not thinking clearly about this."
"He didn't fucking drown, Roberto! Okay?"
Roberto DaCosta sighed and nodded. He was standing with his friend and teammate, Rictor, on the shoreline of Genosha's Hammer Bay, looking out on the lapping waves and the distant clouds of a passing storm. Genosha was a green and sunlit land today, but there was a veritable tempest skimming by about thirty miles into the sea.
Roberto didn't particularly want to be wasting this beautiful day on what he considered a fruitless search, but as leader of the Fallen Angels, he did have a responsibility to his teammates. He didn't think Shatterstar had drowned either, for whatever that was worth. More likely, he'd simply decided the life of a mutant terrorist wasn't for him and left. In any case, Roberto and Rictor weren't doing any good conducting a completely random search for the guy.
"Look... we've been at this for hours, Ric. I'm gonna run back into town and grab something to eat. You want to come?"
Rictor shook his head with a rueful sigh. "No. I wouldn't hate you for bringing me back a cheesesteak though."
"You got it." With a salute, Roberto activated the black energy effect that marked him as Sunspot, and rose into the air.
Downtown Hammer Bay was still mostly in ruins from the prolonged fighting with the human magistrates, but Magneto's domestic forces had managed to encircle and protect ten square blocks to such an extent that real commerce was beginning to take hold again. As he rocketed across the disputed zone, Roberto noted that there didn't appear to be any fighting going on anywhere in the city today--magistrate activity had been dropping off sharply over the last several weeks, so much so that some were beginning to talk about a light at the end of the tunnel--and the commerce district was abuzz with activity. The good weather was bringing out the best in everyone, it seemed.
Hammer Bay didn't have any fast food joints--yet--but they did have a couple of restaurants that catered to the domestic forces, meaning they supplied take-out. Roberto dropped to the street next to a building that had been a lawyer's office under the magistrates but was now a Philly cheesesteak house. The improvement, in Roberto's estimation, was immeasurable.
The place was mostly empty. It was the middle of the afternoon, and the lunch crowd would have already been and gone. When he entered, a few faces made friendly and beautiful by the springtime air and the cessation of hostilities regarded him briefly, then returned to their conversations or their meals. Only one set of eyes remained fixed on him as he crossed the floor.
"'Berto!" the dwarf behind the counter bellowed in a thick Hispanic accent. He was a fat man with very dark skin and a round, jovial face, wearing an apron and a white chef's hat. He was barely three feet tall, and he had to stand on the counter in order to see over it.
"Juan," Roberto grinned in return as he reached the counter. Their friendship had been fast and easy since Roberto had discovered Juan hailed from his own native Brazil. The fact that Juan's superhumanly acute senses--specifically, his sense of smell--made him probably the best cook Roberto had ever had the opportunity to patronize only cemented the deal.
Roberto ordered two cheesesteaks with everything along with an order of home fries, and Juan rushed around the counter to fill the order. He had a wheeled cart back there that allowed him to move back and forth over the high stove, and he slid expertly back and forth, throwing beef and a rainbow of vegetables down on the spotless grill.
"Something's gone wrong, Juan," Roberto reported gravely while the dwarf worked. "Everybody seems happy to live in Genosha today."
Juan roared laughter. "Ain't it the truth!" he agreed, and his accent made the last two words come out, 'da troot'. "I done more business today than the whole last week combined! No goddamn magistrates showed up for weeks, not since the hospital. The sun is shining, the birds are singing. It feels like spring out there, you know?"
"Let's hope it lasts a while."
"Hell, I'll be happy if it only lasts for today! As soon as they open it up and start bringing in the chain restaurants, I'll probably go outta business in a week."
"I think you underestimate the loyalty of your clientele."
"First rule of restauranting, Roberto: Loyalty means nada when the customers ain't had a Whopper in a year. Hell, I might put myself outta business just so I can go get one myself."
Juan rolled expertly backward, scooped up two bread rolls without looking, sliced them as he was rolling back to the oven, then slapped all four pieces face down on the stove and began pushing the vegetables and meat into two equal piles. Sixty seconds later, he was setting two cheesesteaks, rolled in butcher's paper, onto the counter.
"Put it on the big man's account?" Juan asked, flicking his eyes vaguely in the direction of Avalon Tower.
"Please." Roberto thanked him, picked up the sandwiches, and turned toward the door. He was just pushing it open when Juan called his name. He turned back.
"Roberto! You forgot your fries, amig--"
And the world went as white as the sun.
The explosion blew Juan and his cheesesteak shop and most of his customers to pieces, and the only thing that saved Roberto DaCosta's life was the fact that he was standing in front of an open door. The blast wave hammered him backward through it, along with what seemed like a mountain of debris, pelting him and threatening to do even more damage than the heat of the explosion was doing.
He landed very hard in the street, and felt the arm he landed on break neatly above the elbow as he slid limply across the pavement to the opposite walk. He'd dropped the sandwiches at some point, or maybe they'd been vaporized right in his hands. He wasn't sure.
There were more explosions, up and down the street. Mutants were running and flying and slithering in panic all around him. He rolled, tried to get to his feet, but the street flip-flopped in his vision and he was suddenly on his back again. He tried once more, with exactly the same result.
More screaming and the wail of the wounded and the heartbroken. The explosions seemed to be done at least, but there was an ear-splitting CRACK from overhead, and the ten-story building that had been standing next to Juan's cheesesteak house came raining down into the street, its structure weakened by the blast. A chunk of masonry the size of a city dumpster hurtled directly toward Roberto and, lying in the street as he was, he knew there was no way he could get out of the way in time.
He activated his power, and at the last possible moment before the brick and mortar would have crushed him, he swung his remaining good arm at it.
Half of the boulder shattered like glass, and Roberto turned his face away as the shrapnel flew in every direction. The other half smashed into the walk beside him, then toppled gently over and slammed down over his legs, pinning them to the ground.
He had no strength left. The Sunspot energy effect flickered out and Roberto lay helpless underneath that rubble, barely conscious.
"DaCosta."
Roberto opened his eyes. Standing over him was a long-haired man built like a weightlifter. Roberto recognized him immediately as Sven Kleinstock, one half of the notorious Kleinstock Brothers and member in long-standing of the Acolytes. This made him an ally.
So Bobby was utterly confused by the slow smile that spread across the man's face.
"Help... me..."
"No," Sven said. There were some shouts from the end of the block, and he turned quickly in that direction. For a moment he seemed torn, until finally he shook his head at Bobby and hurried away in the direction of the shouts.
The last thing Roberto DaCosta saw before unconsciousness stole over him was the fire burning its way across what had, five minutes ago, been a haven of safety.
"I hate to admit it," Bobbi Chase said, lowering the binoculars from her eyes, "but it looks like the kid was right."
"Hate to admit it because he was right, chica, or because he proved we were wrong about the last site?"
"Both." She stood up and looked over at her partner in the Harriers, Ranger. Jesus Suarez was a lean Hispanic man, and possibly the best unenhanced tracker in the business. The two of them were standing atop a cliff that sprang a hundred and fifty feet out of the Indian Ocean, on the western shore of Genosha.
"There's a bare sliver of beach down there. You can't even see it with the naked eye from up here, but it's plenty big enough to launch the refugee boats from when we shuttle the magistrates out of here."
"And this Shatterstar kid just came up with this off the top of his head."
"Yeah. Apparently he made a hobby out of improving border security before our clients kidnapped him. This was obviously one of the spots that needed improvement." She pulled a tiny radio off of her belt and keyed it. "Warhawk, report."
"It's clean, Blindside," was the response. Far below them, they could see the exhaust trail from the jetpack worn by Tom Nakadai, the Harrier codenamed Warhawk, as he moved back and forth over the cliff face. "I've done six flybys, hit it with every kind of active and passive detection equipment I can carry. If there's anybody stashed here, we ain't gonna see 'em until they want to be seen."
"That's not good enough, Warhawk. I want you to do a visual of the entire cliffside, and a tactile every twenty-five feet."
The voice at the end sputtered. "Tactile? Bobbi--that's crazy!"
"And it's exactly what Hardcase would have you do, so don't argue. Just do it." She turned the radio off and put it back on her belt.
"Little rough with him, weren't you?" Ranger asked. He was squatting right at the rocky edge of the cliff.
"Can't be helped. We dropped the ball in a big way at the last site, and I want to make absolutely certain this Shatterstar isn't setting us up."
"You think he is?"
Blindside was quiet for a moment, a sudden gust whipping her short hair forward. "No, I don't. But I'm not as ready to trust him as our magistrate friends are, either."
"Pretty tough customer. I heard he put Axe down without raising a sweat."
"You heard right. He may not look like much, but he moves like a red-headed Bruce Lee."
Ranger chewed on this, working over how to phrase the next obvious question. Finally he just spit it out. "You think we're gonna be able to handle him when he finds out what the magistrates are really up to?"
"We'd better be able. Or a whole lot of people are going to die for our incompetence."
Tabitha Smith had been walking the halls of Avalon Tower for almost an hour--no destination in mind, just taking the bends in the corridor as they came and switching floors when she got bored with the scenery. Her mind was racing around ten different thoughts and concerns, and her feet seemed determined to keep pace with them.
She had slept with Roberto. Again. Okay, no, there hadn't been any real sleeping involved. Not even a bed in fact, as they'd fucked in the shower, but still. Fucked him again, despite the fact that he was a self-centered asshole who had about as much interest in her as he had in a particularly tasty cut of steak. At least they hadn't fought afterward this time, but that was probably mostly thanks to the fact that she'd gotten dressed and left as soon as she was dried off.
Oh well, at least the sex was good. Who was she to make things weird by getting too cuddly? Lord knew she could use some TLC--Sam Guthrie had taught her to appreciate a man who treated her well--but she certainly didn't need to grow too attached to anyone right now. Not when any of them could be killed at any moment.
She would never admit as much to Roberto, but she loved that part of this Fallen Angels gig--hell, some days it was probably the only thing that kept her from running back to Sam and begging forgiveness. Sometime after they'd arrived in Genosha, she'd realized that there was no way she could go back home after something like this. The X-Men and all their offshoots were all about second chances, but she'd never be accepted back into that fraternity in the way she'd been before, not after joining Magneto. And after what they'd done in Beijing...well, suffice to say she didn't think she'd ever be welcome in Westchester again. And that realization had lent a carelessness to her actions that she reveled in. There really was no going back, so the only way was forward. And who cared if it might end up being the wrong direction, at least she was moving.
She barely registered the vaguely familiar woman brushing by her in the hall, and gave her no thought whatsoever until the woman entered a nearby door that at that same moment was being exited by the Fallen Angel called Feral. The two women stopped and spoke quietly to each other, and it wasn't until the white-haired one--the one that had brushed by Tabby--laughed at something Feral said that her identity clicked in Meltdown's mind.
The two women had moved apart, Feral moving down the hall toward Tabby and the white-haired girl disappearing into the room on the other side of the door.
"Maria," Tabitha called, moving to intercept her. "Feral!"
Feral raised her eyes, hunching a little as if she expected an attack. She relaxed when she spotted Tabitha, but her posture was still notably feline and guarded.
"Yeah?" Feral demanded.
"Was that--was that Siena Blaze you just talked to?"
Feral looked back toward the room she'd just left and Tabby followed her eyes. A nameplate read, NYOTA CHAISIKU, Psychiatric Consultant. "Yeah," she said finally.
"I didn't know she'd come out of her coma."
Feral shrugged. "She did."
"Wasn't she staying in Mother of Hope?"
"Hell if I know. If you got questions, why don't you just go ask her?"
Because she could blow me and this building and most of this city to kingdom come if I started to annoy her, Tabby thought. But something else had occurred to her, a thought she didn't even want to entertain. Blaze had been at the hospital before it was destroyed, she was sure of it. From what she'd heard, there'd been some sort of electrical storm at the site following the explosion and before Magneto arrived to deal with it.
And now here was Siena Blaze. Awake and functioning, walking around like she owned the place, in fact. What the hell--?
An electronic wail sounded from overhead and red emergency lights began to flash up and down the hallway. Meltdown and Feral both looked up, and Tabby would swear later that she'd actually heard Feral make a startled hiss at the noise.
"ATTENTION. BY ORDER OF LORD MAGNETO, ALL COMBAT AND PROTECTION FORCES ARE TO REPORT TO THE COMMERCE DISTRICT IMMEDIATELY. REPEAT: ALL COMBAT AND PROTECTION FORCES ARE TO REPORT TO THE COMMERCE DISTRICT OF HAMMER BAY IMMEDIATELY. UNITS SHOULD LIAISE WITH THEIR COMMANDING OFFICERS ONCE THEY'VE ARRIVED ON SITE TO RECEIVE SPECIAL INSTRUCTIONS. THIS MESSAGE WILL REPEAT--"
Tabitha looked down at Feral, but the cat-woman was gone, slipped away while she was listening to the announcement. "Good," she decided. "One less psycho to deal with."
Then she turned and sprinted toward the elevator.
The maps were slightly out of date, but between the satellite images Hardcase had downloaded before bringing his team into Genosha, and Shatterstar's razor-sharp memory, they were able to determine which roads were still there and which ones weren't. The most difficult part of evacuating the magistrates and their families was going to be transporting several hundred people from the tunnels beneath Hammer Bay on the east coast of the island to the planned launch sites on the west coast. It would have been easier to launch from the east, but that would have meant circumnavigating the entire island to reach the African mainland. And everyone was in agreement that border security was simply too tight on the east coast.
Activity continued unabated all around them, as the various magistrate families, former masters of this land, hurried across the cavernous main hall to gather what they would need for the journey, and to destroy what they wouldn't. Tempers were beginning to flare as the deadline approached, and Talib Singh Chauhan and some of the other senior magistrates had mediated more than one fistfight today.
"Maybe if we traveled by night," Magistrate Henri Diesing suggested.
"That will draw them right to you," Shatterstar insisted. "No one travels outside of Hammer Bay at night. You'll be canceled before you get two miles. This is a rerun, magistrate, we've been over this. The trucks are the best chance you've got, and their ruse will only work if you go during the day."
"Either way, it's going to be dangerous," Hardcase agreed. "I think I have to back up Shatterstar on this one. We can't cross the island without light, and the light will give away our position if we go at night. We'll just have to cross during the day and hope we can fool 'em with--"
Shatterstar stiffened suddenly, catching the eye of everyone at the table and cutting off Hardcase in mid-sentence. He looked around, eyes sliding past the magistrate drones going about their chores, until he caught sight of the source of his distraction.
A young girl was crying nearby, and the cause was obviously the grown man squeezing her arm in one fist and roaring in her face. Other refugees were just walking by, casting uncomfortable, sidelong glances at the duo but making no move to interfere. On the ground at the girl's feet was a beaten Raggedy Ann doll.
Shatterstar spun about, and was taking what would be the first step on a path that would only end with the sound of the bully's jaw breaking, when Magistrate Chauhan's hand fell on his arm.
"No," he said firmly. "We need you here, and that is not your affair."
"He's hurting her."
"He is her father. He is doing her no real harm, and it is his right to discipline her as he sees fit."
Shatterstar's eyes went back to the little girl. He'd met her just yesterday, he realized. Caroline. She had complimented him on his hair.
"Shatterstar. Will you enforce your will and your ways upon us now?"
He looked around at Talib again. The man was not his friend, but Shatterstar trusted and respected him as much as he could trust and respect someone who'd once worked for a government built on the back of mutant slaves. So he gave Caroline and her father one more look and then, with much effort, turned back toward the table.
"Right," Hardcase said. "Now, about the trucks..."
And as the old soldier spoke, Shatterstar wondered how many other principles he would betray before this was over.
"I know what happened before I came here," Siena Blaze was saying as she paced across the floor of Nyota Chaisiku's treatment room. "It's like somebody threw a switch in my head, and everything that I'd forgotten came flooding back in. I know who I am."
Nyota nodded. The chair she was seated in was positioned facing a couch that Siena had remained on for exactly twelve seconds before the pacing had started, right after they both heard the alarm and the general call to assembly in the commerce district. Nyota was sure it was this, more than her returned memory, that was causing Siena's current agitation.
"That's wonderful. And you have no idea what caused this epiphany?"
Siena's face darkened for a moment, then she shook her head. "Not a clue." She turned and moved toward the window.
"You can't see the commerce district from here, Siena. Let's concentrate on your treatment, please."
"My treatment!" Siena rounded on her, stark white hair flapping and her eyes flashing. "I don't need treatment anymore! I'm cured, don't you see? I remember now."
"Just because you remember doesn't mean you aren't likely to slip back into one of your previous personalities again. We must be sure--"
Siena threw her hands up. "Oh, I'm sure, all right. I'm sure that you're never going to give me a clean bill of health." She dropped her arms and her eyes narrowed. "That's the way it is, isn't it? You're never going to tell Magneto it's all right to put me in the field because you don't want me in the field."
Nyota sighed. "Let's not do this again, Siena. I'm not the source of your frustration, and we both know it."
The younger woman kept that smoldering gaze on the psychiatrist for a few moments longer, and then her eyes cleared. Her back straightened, and a small smile touched her lips.
"That's right. You're not the source of my frustration. You're nothing. Nothing for me to get upset about." She began walking for the door.
Nyota began to rise. "Where are you going?"
"To my room. The session is over."
"Shouldn't I be the one to decide that?"
"Not today. I'm just not in the mood." Siena opened the door and grinned back at Nyota, as if daring her to use her mutant gift to put Siena to sleep, as she'd done several days ago. "Reschedule? Call my people and we'll set it up. See you later."
And then she was gone, leaving the other woman torn over whether to follow her or just to let her go. She didn't want to push Blaze too far, not with her mercurial personality and apocalyptic mutant gift, but she also suspected the girl was even now running off to join the fracas in the city.
But Nyota knew she couldn't stop Blaze, not without taking her by surprise, and Nyota was reasonably certain her patient would blow this entire building to kingdom come before letting Nyota knock her out again. No, all she could do was report this to Magneto, and hope that the master of magnetism came to his senses sometime soon and just got rid of the madwoman.
She crossed to her window and looked out on the peaceful, if mostly demolished, streets to the north of the towers. She wondered what was happening on the other side, in the commerce district.
"Roberto! Jesus!"
Sunspot was still lying in the street when Tabby found him, pinned beneath the chunk of rubble that had fallen across his legs. He wasn't moving, and his head was bleeding badly.
Mutants were running past all up and down the street, some in a panic, some with a purpose. In the ten minutes since Tabby had arrived, it was becoming harder and harder to tell the difference. She reached out and grabbed the arm of a passing male who looked big and fairly unruffled.
"Help me!" she said. "We have to get this off of him!"
The big guy gave her a skeptical look. "I don't know, lady. He looks--"
"Just do it, damnit!"
He nodded and crouched down next to Roberto's head. Together, the two of them heaved. Tabitha had been hoping the man's mutation was super-strength. It wasn't, but their combined natural strength was enough to shift the shelf of brick and mortar off to the side.
"They say there were more than a dozen pipe bombs all around the district," the guy said as they pushed. "Nearly flattened the place, and the death toll's probably going to top what happened at the hospital last month."
Tabby ignored him, twisting her jaw to activate her microphone. "Chance, bring the shuttle over to Toynbee Street. I've found Roberto."
The big guy was gaping at her. "You're one of Magneto's personal forces, aren't you?" he demanded. "Where is he? Why isn't he here helping us?"
"Your guess is good as mine," Tabitha said, and promptly forgot he was there while she worked to stop the bleeding in Roberto's head. After a time, she looked up and he was gone, and the other bystanders were scrambling away as Chance brought the sleek black shuttle down in the street nearby.
"Magneto."
Erik Magnus Lehnsherr opened his eyes and sighed in frustration. Then, with a small kick, he spun his office chair away from the window and faced his visitor.
"Your foothold in the city has been decimated," Amelia Voght said, stepping forward and jabbing an accusatory finger at him. "Your people are dying. Why aren't you out there helping them?"
"Because, Amelia," he replied, not bothering to rise from his chair, "I am attempting to help them from in here. I am scanning the rest of the city for the magnetic signatures of more bombs and, failing that, some indication of how our enemies were able to pierce the lines around the commerce district."
Amelia's mouth tightened, and she stepped backward, farther into the shadows. "You're needed down there, Magneto. To convince the people you give a damn about them if nothing else. Let me teleport you there now."
"I will descend when I am ready!" Magneto hissed, his hands tightening on the arms of his chair. His facade of calm pulled away for a moment, and Amelia saw just how worn and exhausted the man was. If she had been anyone else, she thought he might have thrown her out the window by now. "If another bomb goes off while I am en route, what will I have accomplished besides letting more of the people under my care die? Now leave me!"
Nodding curtly, Amelia vanished. And Erik Magnus Lehnsherr turned back toward the window to resume his search.
Mikhail Brezhnev took the podium before the UN Security Council to an explosion of questions and disapproving roars. He cleared his throat, tapped his notes into a neat stack, and waited for the tumult to die down before he spoke.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he began. "I have addressed the concerns of this council regarding the incident in Paris to Lord Magnus, and though he sends his regrets to the people of France, he reiterates his earlier assertion that these Fallen Angels--if they are truly the same group he was affiliated with months ago--have no connection with Genosha and its--"
The rest was swallowed by an indignant uproar. Brezhnev stopped and sighed, then looked to the secretary general, waiting for him to call the room to order. The secretary general was making no move to do so, but he was giving Brezhnev an amused, knowing look. Not for the first time, Mikhail Brezhnev got the unnerving impression that the man could see right through him.
"Mr. Brezhnev," a new, heavily-accented voice said, and despite its low volume, the angry shouts died immediately. All heads turned as the representative from France rose from his seat and addressed the podium.
"The people of France are not interested in these lies," he said. He was slightly overweight, but tall and with a bearded face that made one think of tenured college professors. He had not joined in the shouting, had not even opened his mouth until now, but his unflappable exterior was a little <i>too</i> stiff, masking an obvious inner rage. "Genosha wishes to appease this council, and yet it attacks members in secret and hides behind lies. No more. To the people of France, the attack on our parliament was an act of war, and we will treat it as such.
"As we speak, a fleet of warships have set sail for Genosha. This fleet will lay siege to the island until such time as the prime minister is returned to us, or these Fallen Angels are brought to account for their crimes against France. We have not petitioned the UN for permission for such an action, and we are not asking for it now. This is a French matter, and the people of France will see it through to its conclusion.
"That is all, Mr. Brezhnev."
The French representative took his seat and, once again, the room exploded with raised voices. For just a moment, Mikhail Brezhnev let his eyes flutter closed. Whatever happened now, people were going to die, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.
It was all in Magneto's hands now.
POSTMARK: GENOSHA
Big, big thanks to stalwart Mike McGee for the plug he gave this series on the Heroes mailing list. He included it with such luminaries as Derrick Ferguson's Frankenstein and the Monster From Hell over at Subculture, and Chris Munn's Darkhold series. Mike's the coolest, and his plug has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he wrote a bitchin' Feral story for the Angels' 2002 Annual. No, really. Honest.
Got two BIG reviews from review-meister Brent Lambert, one for the annual, and one for issue #13. Brent writes Exiles for us here at M2K, and will soon also be writing Avengers. Take it, Brent.
Fallen Angels Annual 2002 by Russ Anderson, Mike McGee, Tom Lynch, Alex Cook, and some nobody named Bill J.
That would be Bill Kte'pi, though he does like to masquerade as Billy J, rapper-at-large. Don't let him know we know about his dual identity though, that'd take all the fun out of it.
Okay first off when I saw this on the new releases I damn near had a heart attack. I had been waiting for months for this and it showcases some of fanfic's best on arguably Russ's best title to date. Now onto the stories each one of them did shall we.
Russ's story with Blaze shows he has a tight grasp on her character, what she's all about, and he even managed to fit in some nice continuity tidbits in there. I love the way he describes Blaze's sex scene because it simply blew me away and at the same time made you gulp that kind of nervous gulp. Let's just put it this way; Blaze is one tough cookie and I like her that way. The only thing I don't think I liked about this story was the beginning scene with Black Knight, Reaper, and Blaze heading back to Marvel Proper. I felt that scene could have had so much more description and I could have really got a grip on the experience she was undergoing.
The funny thing is, I almost cut that scene out altogether. The story was already creeping up to about the size of one of my regular issues, and that sequence didn't really do anything except act as a bridge from Siena's Ultraverse appearances. Ended up leaving it in, obviously, but I'm not sure I agree with the making-it-longer idea.
Onward to Mike's Feral story which I warn now isn't for the faint of heart. It's gruesome, confusing at times, and gritty as hell just like Feral. A mere review can't describe the sheer rawness this story had to it. I was almost compelled to read the story over again just to see if I had missed anything. It was that jarring and unnerving. I had thought my Candra story in the Gambit Annual had been a rough one, but Mike turned it up to the tenth degree. It seemed like an experimental piece and it paid off quite nicely in this reader's opinion.
I almost tossed the Siena story out after reading Mike's. Everybody really pulled out the stops on their contributions to this annual, but Mike's was truly exceptional, even when compared to his impressive body of work. I was just glad I got the guy to do a story for the annual.
Tom's Rictor story was the most stable piece in this annual and that?s not necessarily a bad thing because I don't think Tom's writing leans toward that type or unstable stuff anyway. Instead he gives us a piece that gets a little more into the head of Julio and his thoughts on the events taking place in his life particularly his getting frisky with Feral and the disappearance of his friend, Shatterstar. Mr. Lynch writes how someone would deal with having sex with a mutant cat in a pretty realistic manner. My only problem with the story was the role Uniscone played in it. I think it should have been more of an internal piece dealing with the emotions, thoughts, and feelings of Rictor. Though this story has given a bit more depth to Rictor and has made him as a result a more interesting character.
I can't speak for Tom, but he expressed some overall displeasure with this story to me, particularly the Unuscione bit. I thought it worked fine against the other introspective pieces in the annual. Not Tom's best work (that would have to be Cloak & Dagger at MV1), but a solid story all around.
After reading Alex's Fallen Angels story I'm pretty positive that Russ chose a very worthy successor to his Fallen Angels masterpiece. Alex did something so cool with Boomer's powers I won't even describe them here. You'll have to read the story for yourself. Boomer and Blaze are two of my favorite Angels though I constantly bash Blaze in chats just for the hell of it. Yeah that's just the kind of guy I am. Anyway Alex writes Boomer in such a way that I'm confident that the title will not fall in quality. Add into the fact that I liked his Man-Bat so much I'm sure Fallen Angels will continue to be a talked about title. Of course that's if he manages to put arcs quicker than in five months (just jiving ya Russ)
I don't remember for sure, but I don't think I picked Alex, I just got very lucky in that this very talented guy wanted to pick up the pieces once I was done wrecking the joint (and trust me, Fallen Angels under Alex is going to be a very different animal than Fallen Angels under Russ, precisely because of all the stuff that's going to happen over the next four issues). I can't wait to see what he does on the book, frankly.
Onto the last story, which was presented, by Bill and it focused on Gomi. He was a character I first got some exposure to in fanfic from Shawn's X-Force run at MV1. I didn't like him too much there so when I heard Russ was adding him to the Fallen Angels roster I wasn't all too excited. Russ has changed that especially with FA #13, but to be honest Bill's story was so-so. It didn?t have any punch or that energetic excitement his writing usually has. I felt like he drudged through writing this because I felt like I was drudging through it as I read it. If this piece would have been from any other writer in fanfic it would have gotten pretty high marks from me, but with Bill's standard of excellence you pretty much except him to keep it up constantly. Though I know that's impossible and there are slip-ups. I believe this Gomi story was one of them.
To each his own, I guess. I loved Bill's Gomi story, and rank it just behind Mike's Feral story as my favorite of the annual. In fact, that Gomi tale will have an indirect effect on how I'm handling an upcoming story point in "Civil Unrest"
Overall, this was a pretty good annual collection and I think it will be a standard for other annual anthologies to live up to IMO. Good show fellas and start writing them Fallen Angels issues Alex!
Amen, brother. What are you waiting for, Alex? I only have 4 issues left, man!
In order to prove he's the most prolific review-monkey in fanfic, Brent also reviewed issue #13. His thoughts are as follows:
A new FA issue at last!! I was starting to suffer withdrawals here. Finally Russ comes back and gives us the beginning of his last FA tale and boy what a way he starts it off. Genosha has to answer for its actions in China when the Fa Clinic was destroyed. The delegate to the UN seemed to be a nervous, fidgety guy and not at all someone who should have been a delegate. I'm not sure if the Secretary General unnerved the guy or he was just a sorry delegate. I can't say I liked this guy too much though. He did serve for a good continuity connection though with the eeriness of the Secretary General and the events happening in Excalibur. If I had my guess I would say the Secretary General is Kulan Gath. Anyway that's another discussion for another day.
My handling of the Sec-Gen was absolutely a reference to David Wheatley's ominous presentation of him over in Excalibur. I've got my own ideas about what's going on there, but only David knows for sure.
As for Alabaster, give the guy a chance. Can you think of a more thankless job than convincing the world's politicians that Magneto isn't trying to kill them?
So after the UN deal the Fallen Angels are in France basically to kidnap the Prime Minister and convince him not to allow a Mutant Registration Act to pass in his country. It's quite funny when Le Peregrine tries to take on the Fallen Angels and gets his booty smacked hard. It was basically like Punisher trying to take on Mephisto solo. He might have the guts, but he sure as hell doesn't have the power to accomplish it.
I tried to do Le Peregrine a solid, as I did with the Collective Man, presenting him in a formidable light. But you're absolutely right. There just ain't that much there to work with. Glad it worked for you in any case.
The Fallen Angels succeed in capturing the Prime Minister and they're going to hold him out in some crummy place until he either caves in not allowing the Mutant Registration Act to pass or they just kill him to get the point. Either way their philosophy is flawed, but I don't think Zeus coming down on a thunderbolt to tell them could convince them otherwise. Which is part of the beauty of Fallen Angels. These guys are so intent on their mission that they don't give a damn about anything that would try to get in their way. I can understand that in some cases, but not in all. That also makes you love and hate these guys all at the same time. You're like "Man you're doing the right thing, just going the wrong way about it!? and you just wish you could go in the story and tell them, but you're forced to see their lives play out before your eyes.
Now my favorite part of the issue was when Gomi had to meet with Magneto if not only for the implications of the story itself. Mags pretty much offers Gomi the position of a sort of human relations boss for Genosha. Gomi readily accepts, as I'm sure anyone in his position would. I know I would have accepted in a heartbeat if not only to bring about some change in even the smallest way to the country. There is so much opportunity and story potential in this development it could carry on for a while to come. Russ looks at this title in terms of the long term by doing the simplest of things. The stuff Russ does in this title has effect and it will continue to have effect across the scope of the M2K universe. The effects of the Fa Clinic story will be felt in Exiles for a while to come since the destruction of Collective Man pretty much lead to the events of #2-5 of Exiles. If only Sunspot knew the ripples he would create I wonder if he would have still attacked the clinic?
Oh sure he would have. I mean, how boring would the title be if Bobby didn't do the wrong thing all the time?
Probably the most touching part of this issue was when Shatterstar talked to a young Genoshan girl. It gave me that warm smile that you get when you meet a nice little kid and they ask you all these incredibly silly questions, but you can't help but to answer them anyway.
I was hesitant to use Caroline at all, as I think she's a walking, talking cliche, but she'll be appearing later on in the arc, and will be quite pivotal to Shatterstar's actions throughout. So she stays. I'm glad she worked for you, in any case.
Russ is taking the Fallen Angels in a bold and dangerous new direction with his last arc. The way this seems to be going I don't think everyone is going to walk out of it alive.
You would be correct.
Oh, and before I forget, milk advocate and writer of half the new titles on the site, Moo, had this to say about the annual.
FALLEN ANGELS ANNUAL 2002 by Various
5/5 (Must Read)
So this is why they call them the best writers in fanfic.
I'm not going to say anything anymore, 'kay?
And here I thought "best" referred to their prowess in the sack. You lied to me, Tom Lynch! You lied!