[THE FUTURE: The Dungeon Deep Within Greymalkin Tower…]
“Lucas,” the woman in the green cloak said, “you don’t have to do this.”
“But I do,” Bishop countered. “We know for a fact that I do.”
“The records aren’t exact-”
“You know I was there.”
There was a long pause before she replied in a hushed tone. “I could have been mistaken.”
Bishop laughed softly. “It’s okay,” he said taking her in his arms and holding her to his chest. “I’m coming back.”
“Technically, you’re already back,” she said, glancing over at a sealed doorway. “I just remember that time period being very turbulent.”
“Times of great change always are,” Bishop replied.
“Stonehenge has immense power,” she said, “your trip should be smooth.”
“I’ll tell you that you said hi.”
“I know, I remember,” she said, pulling back her hood. Green tattoos wove an intricate pattern across the pale skin of her face. Her eyes were red, with tiny black spots, like sunspots, across the iris. Her hair was a deep auburn, with looping curls and a stark white streak cascading down the left side of her face. She placed her gloved hand on the side of his cheek. “Y’all come back to me, Lucas.”
“I will, Anna.”
“Lucas,” the woman in the green cloak said, “you don’t have to do this.”
“But I do,” Bishop countered. “We know for a fact that I do.”
“The records aren’t exact-”
“You know I was there.”
There was a long pause before she replied in a hushed tone. “I could have been mistaken.”
Bishop laughed softly. “It’s okay,” he said taking her in his arms and holding her to his chest. “I’m coming back.”
“Technically, you’re already back,” she said, glancing over at a sealed doorway. “I just remember that time period being very turbulent.”
“Times of great change always are,” Bishop replied.
“Stonehenge has immense power,” she said, “your trip should be smooth.”
“I’ll tell you that you said hi.”
“I know, I remember,” she said, pulling back her hood. Green tattoos wove an intricate pattern across the pale skin of her face. Her eyes were red, with tiny black spots, like sunspots, across the iris. Her hair was a deep auburn, with looping curls and a stark white streak cascading down the left side of her face. She placed her gloved hand on the side of his cheek. “Y’all come back to me, Lucas.”
“I will, Anna.”
“BROTHERHOOD – PART ONE”
[NOW: Above the American Midwest…]
“Have you considered what the Weapon X treatments would do to our children?” Jean Grey queried as she sat beside Scott Summers in the cockpit of Weapon X’s smaller transport ship. Scott was a gifted pilot, a skill apparently inherited from his father, and the ship was a technological marvel, and as such, there was no real indication that they were in the air at all. They could have been in a board room on solid ground, rather than hurtling at nine hundred miles per hour through the air at 15,000 feet.
Scott never took his red glowing eyes off the sky in front of him. “Not seriously.”
“What, the treatment’s effects on our children, or us even having children?” Jean said.
“Having them,” Scott admitted freely. “Jean, this isn’t really the kind of life you would bring children into.”
“Oh, Scott,” she said, “please tell me you’ve at least considered the possibility of not doing this forever.”
“I always consider the possibilities, no matter how remote. One of the reasons I am one of the greatest strategic minds on Earth,” Scott smiled.
“I’m just worried about the chemicals,” Jean said, “the radiation. This energy source they’re tapping into, there haven’t been enough trials to determine if it’s harmful in the long term.”
“Since the first success, there has been a zero fatality rate,” Scott reminded her.
“If you look at a short enough time line, everybody is immortal.”
“A rather glib interpretation,” Scott responded. “I thought I was supposed to be the pragmatist.”
Jean looked out the window of the plane, watching the passing clouds. “Everything changes,” she said. “I’m not sure this is such a good idea.”
“Don’t be silly, Jean,” Scott said, “Warren will be thrilled to see you.”
[THREE YEARS AGO: Steamboat Springs, Colorado…]
“Go home, Scott,” Warren Worthington seethed, striding down the hallway away from the door. “You have nothing to say that I want to hear.”
“It’s about Jean,” Scott said, standing in the doorway.
“You say that as if it’s supposed to change anything,” Warren said. “This has always been about Jean. It was about Jean from day one. And it will likely be about Jean until we’re both dead and gone.” He approached the end of the hallway, never breaking stride.
“She left,” Scott said, and Warren stopped dead in his tracks.
“Left the organization,” Warren asked, “or you broke up?”
“She’s gone, Warren,” Scott said, his voice growing more insistent. “She’s gone off to join those terrorists in the Brotherhood.”
“Can you blame her, Scott?” Warren said angrily. “You’ve practically dared her to. Jean could have been the greatest of us all, and you’ve kept her hidden, convinced that she was helpless. You’ve given her little reason to stay as long as she did. She deserves better.”
“Save it Warren. You had your chance. You think your money can buy you anything, but Jean just wasn’t for sale.”
“She would have had more stability than she got shacking up with an army brat orphan with mommy issues.”
Scott’s knuckles cracked as he clenched his fists. “You arrogant bastard,” he seethed, “did it ever occur to you that Jean had a say in all this? That she chose what she wanted, not what would improve her social status?”
“And did you ever stop to think that maybe she’s only now finding out what she really wants, and that’s why she’s leaving to join the Brotherhood of Men, you self absorbed, ignorant prick?”
Scott twisted his head, cracking his neck. “Watch it, Warren.”
“Or what?” Warren exclaimed, marching back towards him. “You’ll blast me to kingdom come with your robo-eyes? I’m not powerless myself, ‘Slim’. But wait, you would have already factored that in. Let me guess; Hank equipped you with a scramble burst transmitter, keyed into the frequency of my abilities, just in case you needed to cancel me out? Did it occur to you that maybe I altered the frequency the minute I resigned from your little Mickey Mouse Club? Did it occur to you that even if you did jam my abilities, that I’d still hand you your narrow ass?”
“Better men have tried, Warren. But I’m not here to fight you. I wanted you to talk to her. I know you stay in touch with her. Talk some sense into her.”
“If she’s not willing to listen to you, Scott, why would she listen to me?”
Scott looked at him, his scarlet eyes narrowing. “You’re the one she married, Warren.”
[NOW: Weapon X Headquarters…]
Raven Darkholm slid around the corner, ducking into the shadows, keying in a number on her cell phone. All transmissions out of the base were normally monitored, but the phone was equipped with a scrambler that would make deciphering the transmission take so long that the technician’s children would be drawing pensions by the time they knew what she was saying.
“Have you finished the assignment?” the voice on the other end rasped.
“Yes, they’re on board,” Raven whispered into the phone.
“All three?”
“Yes. Three so far, maybe more. They know what is at stake, and they’re ready do what is needed.”
“Then you’ve done well, love. I will be in contact.”
Raven folded her cell phone and rounded the corner. She smiled seductively at Bobby Drake as he and Kitty Pryde passed by, and Bobby turned as they walked, watching Raven stride towards the briefing room.
“You should totally go after her,” Kitty said sarcastically, striding purposefully towards the gymnasium. “I think she has the hots for you.”
“Who doesn’t, Sweetness?” Bobby said, “but Raven is a little too senior for this citizen. I prefer kittens over cats.”
“We’ll have to find you one of those.”
“No need, Baby. I’ll chase your tail as far as I need to.”
“You are disgusting,” Kitty spat. “Go hump a chair or something before I make you eat the appendage you’re thinking with.”
“Aw, c’mon, Kitten,” Bobby smiled, “you can’t deny that there’s something between us.”
“Yeah,” Kitty said, tunneling straight down. She landed on the floor of the lower corridor, looking up at the ceiling. “The floor and a boatload of class.”
She turned to walk towards the stairs, eager to get to the gym.
“Not many people wanderin’ around down here,” Logan said, and Kitty jumped at the sound of his voice, thick and husky, coming from the shadows.
“There’s no place like home,” Kitty thought to herself, her brow instantly erupting in sweat.
[NOW: Steamboat Springs, Colorado…]
Warren smiled as he opened the door, seeing Jean standing in front of him, Scott standing behind her left shoulder. She was just as beautiful as he had remembered. Every time he saw her, he relived their entire relationship in a quick flood of memories, like a lightning stroke firing through his head.
“Hello Jean,” he said finally, completely ignoring Scott’s presence.
“Hello, Warren,” she said, her smile arguing with the uncomfortable look in her eyes.
Warren looked over her shoulder and his smile grew noticeably less friendly and more forced. “Scott.”
“Warren,” Scott replied, his own face a mask of stoicism.
Warren invited them in, leading them into the solarium, where a tray of fresh fruit and a pitcher of ice water sat on a glass table surrounded by white leather arm chairs and beautiful plants. The dark slate floor contrasted starkly with the white limestone walls leading up to the striking glass semi-circular wall that faced the mountains in the west.
They helped themselves to some cold water and Scott picked up a bright green apple. Settling down into the comfortable chairs, Warren smiled at Jean once more, and then leaned back.
“So,” Warren said, “what brings you guys out this way?”
Scott drew in a breath, but before he could speak, Jean took over. “Warren,” she said, hesitating, “it’s time. The situation we’ve talked about in the past… it’s here.”
Scott looked at her, his eyes slightly narrower, his lips pursed together, his brow furrowed. She didn’t look at him, her eyes simply glanced to her left, as if barely acknowledging his presence.
She didn’t need telepathy to know that Scott was angry with her, and feeling betrayed over the fact that Warren seemed to be in the loop even before he was. Right now, Jean knew Scott would be wondering how she and Warren would have discussed a situation, the union of select elements of Weapon X and the Brotherhood of Men, that hadn’t come to pass until just days ago when Warren and Jean hadn’t seen each other in over a year.
Warren glanced at him and smiled a somewhat smug grin, knowing just as well as she did that he was enraged at the moment, infuriated that somehow, some way, Warren knew something that he thought he didn’t.
“C’mon, Slim,” Warren smiled, “don’t tell me you thought you were the first one to think about a merger?”
“Of course not,” Scott grinned back at him. “I knew you’d need to talk about something when I sent you to talk her down.” He took a bite from the crisp apple, smiling as he reasserted his veneer of smug confidence. “I mean, it’s not like you had anything else in common.”
It was Warren’s turn to drop the intensity on his smile, staring coolly at the red eyes glistening at him. Warren appraised him, taking the man’s measure with great calculation. Scott took great pride on his logic, and the one subject that could ever shake him in that was Jean Grey, especially when it appeared that Jean had shared information with Warren.
“So let me guess,” he began, smiling at Jean again, “You, Scott, Ororo, Kurt, Bobby, Shiro, and Logan?” Angel counted off the names, reveling as the look on Scott’s face transformed once again from smug to put off.
“You’re close,” Scott quickly regained his composure, “but your intel is a little off.”
“You mean the tin man and the ghost girl?” Angel nodded. “I didn’t think Logan would get them that fresh.”
Jean leaned forward, looking down at the floor before looking back at Warren. “Shiro isn’t involved.”
“He’s… he’s not?” Warren asked, clearly perplexed. “That’s a shock.”
Jean smiled uncomfortably again, looking out at the trees. “So can we count on your support, Warren?”
Warren leaned back, tenting his fingers as his elbows rested on the arms of the chair. He stared off at the far wall, calculating the odds and angles in his head. “I can provide a moderately equipped facility, two transports, one air, one ground, and an eight figure capital base. But I want in.”
Scott scoffed loudly, shaking his head. “Look, fly boy, this isn’t the Adventurers Club. There are high stakes involved, and I’m not sure you’re up to-”
“I’m in,” Warren said, “or you can seek your funding from another source. Let me set this straight, Summers. I’m not the same trust fund teen you knew and loathed. I’m one of the smartest men on the planet. I’m number three on the list of most influential businessmen in the world. My company brings in $44 billion in annual profit and our stock has split five times in the past three calendar years. I did not reach this lofty position by blindly dumping capital into a venture that promises no profit, stands to publicly ruin me should my connection be uncovered, and is being led by a man who despises me in every way.” He leaned forward, grinning as he looked under his brow at Scott. “And if you have any doubts about my ability to handle a combat situation, well, I suggest you take a poke at me. You’ll find me more than capable of defending myself.”
Cyclops smiled, unleashing a blast of energy from his eyes directly at Warren.
[THREE YEARS AGO: Location Unknown…]
“Welcome to the team,” Shiro Yoshida said.
Jean nodded, brushing a few hairs back from her eyes and tucking them behind her ears. “Thanks, Mr. Yoshida. It’s good to be here.”
“Please, call me Shiro. Erik has requested you be shown to his office as soon as you arrived,” Shiro said, “so please, follow me.”
Jean nodded, following him into the hallway.
“I’m sure you have many questions,” Shiro said, walking slowly through the high marble walled hallway.
“I have some,” Jean replied, “but I didn’t want to seem too eager.”
“Ah, yes, you do not wish to appear duplicitous. But there are two factors to consider. One; if you are a spy, and your coming here is an act of deception, there is nothing we could tell you that would be of any use to your superiors. And two; if you are not a spy, and are instead here to genuinely expand your mind, there is nothing we could tell you that will make you regret that.”
Jean nodded. “I guess the first question I’d have is how did you choose what discipline to study?”
“It is not as simple as choosing a college class,” Shiro smiled. “The process is complex, and requires intense meditation and contemplation before the answer is revealed.”
“So you don’t choose,” Jean replied, “it chooses you?”
Shiro laughed. “Something like that.”
Jean walked for a few more feet in silence, looking down at the floor as if searching for answers. At last, she looked back at Shiro and cocked her head. “So what made one of the greatest scientific minds of our era join the Brotherhood of Men?”
“My father was founder of Yoshida Electronics. We were on the forefront of the development of the Genetic Modification technology Weapon X uses. When my potential was discovered, I was naturally anticipating induction into Weapon X, but my father refused to allow me to undergo the Gene Mod until I spoke to a man named Erik Lensherr. He told me of the original Weapon X trials, and showed me there was a greater way to unleash the potential locked within me.”
“So your father suspected the Gene Mod treatments are dangerous?” Jean asked him, concern and confusion etched across her face.
Shiro stopped walking, looking at her with a gentle smile on his face. “Tampering with the human genetic structure to allow people to freeze moisture in the air? Altering body chemistry to enable instant cloning? Infusing nano-technology into human tissue to let a man blast through steel plate with his eyes? What part of that doesn’t sound dangerous?”
Jean nodded and smiled, though it was devoid of all humor. She looked as if she had finally gotten the punch line of a joke not worth laughing at.
“Here we are,” Shiro said, gesturing at the door in front of them. He opened the door, and gestured into the large chamber. The walls and floors were dark and metallic, giving the structure a very industrial feeling. Contrasting the severity of the surroundings, one entire wall of the room was replaced by a tremendous southern facing window, casting brilliant sunlight onto the vast variety of plant life that flourished in the open space.
In the center of the room, a large metallic desk stood like a sentinel, flanked by simple chairs. Standing around the desk was a group of four people, two men, and two women. To one side, a thin woman with milky skin stood nearly engulfed by a tremendous crimson robe, only a slight sliver of her red peasant dress visible beneath. Her face was framed by cascading locks of auburn hair, coming to a rest just above the swell of her bosom. Here eyes seemed to dance with an almost ethereal quality as she gazed down at the map laid out on the table.
Next to her, a lean muscular man of similar complexion with hair so blond it was nearly white leaned over the desk, his fists supporting his upper body as he looked down on the map, his body covered in a sleek navy blue and white skin suit. He did not move so much as he twitched, every subtle shift in weight or gesture happening almost instantly. His face was locked in a perpetual scowl, his brow furrowed in concentration.
Another woman with dark ebony skin and stark white streaks in her black hair stood on the other side of the desk. Her stance and posture conveyed an almost regal appearance, helped by her radiant beauty and the flowing black robes she wore. She turned and smiled at Jean as she entered. The trio was almost certainly nobility, if not royalty.
Between them, a tall man with white hair stood, a deep purple cape hung off his broad shoulders over what appeared to be a crimson dress uniform. His face was stoic, his eyes holding years of wisdom. This quartet represented the brain trust of the Brotherhood of Men, the leadership structure of the entire organization, and suddenly, Jean felt very small.
The tall man with white hair smiled at her, his stoic façade cracking, his face taking on a genuine warmth that instantly took Jean off guard.
“Ah, Jean Grey,” he said, holding his hands out to either side, “my name is Erik Lensherr. Welcome to Avalon.”
[NOW: Steamboat Springs, Colorado…]
Warren sprung into the air with a supernatural agility, having leapt at the first sign of any energy build-up in Scott’s eyes. Warren looped high overhead as Scott’s burst reflected off the window behind him, returning to it’s source and hitting Scott in the face like a hard slap.
“Scott!” Jean exclaimed, jumping up.
“Ruby Quartz windows, Warren?” Scott grinned, rising to his feet. “Poor investment. Frivilous spending.”
“One never knows when one’s company might get unruly,” he said, hovering lower and lower, his feet now mere inches off the ground. He floated unsupported in the air.
Scott nodded, his hand going to his belt. He keyed a button on one of his utility pouches, and a sharp burst of sound popped through the room. Warren dropped quickly to the ground, not looking surprised in the slightest. “Hank equipped me with a scramble burst transmitter, keyed into the frequency of your abilities, just in case I needed to cancel you out,” Scott said smugly, recalling Warren’s words from so long ago. “Looks like you were bluffing about changing the frequency when you left our little ‘Mickey Mouse Club.’ “ He grinned and unleashed another burst of energy.
“Hai!” Warren yelled, crossing his arms in front of his chest, and large semi-transparent wings snapped into existence, crossing in front of him and shielding him from the blast. The wings looked like they were made of shaped soap bubbles, but they were obviously durable enough to withstand one of Scott’s bursts. He extended his arms in Scott’s direction, and the wings ‘feathers’ leapt forth, bombarding Scott and bludgeoning him backwards until he flipped over the chair, spilling off his feet to the floor. Warren leapt into the air again, soaring across the room and landing over Scott. He dropped a knee into Scott’s chest, and pinned his neck with his forearm. “The only thing stupider than announcing your counter measure three years in advance, Slim, is falling for a bluff that your opponent didn’t prepare against it. I did change that frequency the day I left Weapon X. And I picked up a few tricks along the way,” he said, his energy wings spanning out behind him.
Scott nodded in genuine respect. “Well played, fly boy. Welcome to the team.”
[NOW: Weapon X Headquarters…]
“Sorry,” Kitty stammered, “I didn’t think this space was off limits.”
“It’s not, Punkin’, I just like it down here because it’s quiet. It allows me to think in peace.”
Kitty nodded, and saw a room at the end of the hallway opposite the stairs. On the wall, a large landscape adorned a rough canvas. The architecture in the painting suggested Mt. Fuji at sunset, but at this distance she could not be sure. Two swords rested on a display table, with small incense holders on either side.
“So, you’re into samurais and stuff, huh?” she said, her nervousness as plain as the nose on her face.
“Into it? Yeah, I guess you could say that,” Logan responded. “The way of the samurai is not an easy one, but nothing in life worth doing is easy.” He took a long drag off his cigar, letting the smoke curl up out of his nostrils before exhaling slowly. “The way of the samurai is about honor, courage… and discipline. Something my life had been lacking for a while.”
“I see,” Kitty said, looking around nervously. “Well, I should be going,” she said, backing towards the stairs and trying her best not to look frightened. “I wanted to get in some training down in the gym.”
“Without knowledge of learning, one will ultimately have no military victories,” Logan said, smiling at her. “Imagawa Sadayo said that.”
“Did he die in battle fighting ninjas or something?”
“No. He died an old poet. He survived because he was always able to see the winds of change around him. Keep your eyes open, Kitty.”
“I will,” Kitty said, backing away further. She turned and bounded towards the stairs. She stopped and looked back, but Logan had already closed the door.
[THE FUTURE: The Special Ops Division of Greymalkin Labs…]
“The portal is almost ready,” the technician said, turning away from Cable as he stood watching the monitors.
“You’ll be in sub-arctic temperatures, so make sure your bio-thermal field stays up until you can get to shelter,” a thin woman with graying hair tied up an a tight bun advised him.
“Yes ma’am,” Cable replied, grinning.
“Ha ha, Cable,” she said, “but all of this tech won’t do us any good if you freeze to death. We need hard data on the genetic experiments they were doing back then so we can figure out… well, you know what the mission is.”
“I do. And I know what’s at stake. This is a moment that shaped history. I’m going to make damned sure that nothing gets in the way.”
“Well, please be careful. And get back safe. I will be waiting.”
“You worry too much,” Cable said, leaning in and kissing her. She returned his kiss, lingering for only a moment, and then pulled back.
“Not in front of everyone,” she said, “it’s unprofessional.”
“Yes, ma’am, sorry ma’am,” Cable said, saluting her comically.
“Just be careful Cable,” she said. “There was a lot of magic being tossed around back then.”
“I will. And don’t worry,” Cable said, kissing her again quickly. “I’ll be back. I love you, Kitty Pryde.”
Kitty smiled a sweet smile, looking him in the eyes. “I love you too.”
TO BE CONTINUED...
“Have you considered what the Weapon X treatments would do to our children?” Jean Grey queried as she sat beside Scott Summers in the cockpit of Weapon X’s smaller transport ship. Scott was a gifted pilot, a skill apparently inherited from his father, and the ship was a technological marvel, and as such, there was no real indication that they were in the air at all. They could have been in a board room on solid ground, rather than hurtling at nine hundred miles per hour through the air at 15,000 feet.
Scott never took his red glowing eyes off the sky in front of him. “Not seriously.”
“What, the treatment’s effects on our children, or us even having children?” Jean said.
“Having them,” Scott admitted freely. “Jean, this isn’t really the kind of life you would bring children into.”
“Oh, Scott,” she said, “please tell me you’ve at least considered the possibility of not doing this forever.”
“I always consider the possibilities, no matter how remote. One of the reasons I am one of the greatest strategic minds on Earth,” Scott smiled.
“I’m just worried about the chemicals,” Jean said, “the radiation. This energy source they’re tapping into, there haven’t been enough trials to determine if it’s harmful in the long term.”
“Since the first success, there has been a zero fatality rate,” Scott reminded her.
“If you look at a short enough time line, everybody is immortal.”
“A rather glib interpretation,” Scott responded. “I thought I was supposed to be the pragmatist.”
Jean looked out the window of the plane, watching the passing clouds. “Everything changes,” she said. “I’m not sure this is such a good idea.”
“Don’t be silly, Jean,” Scott said, “Warren will be thrilled to see you.”
[THREE YEARS AGO: Steamboat Springs, Colorado…]
“Go home, Scott,” Warren Worthington seethed, striding down the hallway away from the door. “You have nothing to say that I want to hear.”
“It’s about Jean,” Scott said, standing in the doorway.
“You say that as if it’s supposed to change anything,” Warren said. “This has always been about Jean. It was about Jean from day one. And it will likely be about Jean until we’re both dead and gone.” He approached the end of the hallway, never breaking stride.
“She left,” Scott said, and Warren stopped dead in his tracks.
“Left the organization,” Warren asked, “or you broke up?”
“She’s gone, Warren,” Scott said, his voice growing more insistent. “She’s gone off to join those terrorists in the Brotherhood.”
“Can you blame her, Scott?” Warren said angrily. “You’ve practically dared her to. Jean could have been the greatest of us all, and you’ve kept her hidden, convinced that she was helpless. You’ve given her little reason to stay as long as she did. She deserves better.”
“Save it Warren. You had your chance. You think your money can buy you anything, but Jean just wasn’t for sale.”
“She would have had more stability than she got shacking up with an army brat orphan with mommy issues.”
Scott’s knuckles cracked as he clenched his fists. “You arrogant bastard,” he seethed, “did it ever occur to you that Jean had a say in all this? That she chose what she wanted, not what would improve her social status?”
“And did you ever stop to think that maybe she’s only now finding out what she really wants, and that’s why she’s leaving to join the Brotherhood of Men, you self absorbed, ignorant prick?”
Scott twisted his head, cracking his neck. “Watch it, Warren.”
“Or what?” Warren exclaimed, marching back towards him. “You’ll blast me to kingdom come with your robo-eyes? I’m not powerless myself, ‘Slim’. But wait, you would have already factored that in. Let me guess; Hank equipped you with a scramble burst transmitter, keyed into the frequency of my abilities, just in case you needed to cancel me out? Did it occur to you that maybe I altered the frequency the minute I resigned from your little Mickey Mouse Club? Did it occur to you that even if you did jam my abilities, that I’d still hand you your narrow ass?”
“Better men have tried, Warren. But I’m not here to fight you. I wanted you to talk to her. I know you stay in touch with her. Talk some sense into her.”
“If she’s not willing to listen to you, Scott, why would she listen to me?”
Scott looked at him, his scarlet eyes narrowing. “You’re the one she married, Warren.”
[NOW: Weapon X Headquarters…]
Raven Darkholm slid around the corner, ducking into the shadows, keying in a number on her cell phone. All transmissions out of the base were normally monitored, but the phone was equipped with a scrambler that would make deciphering the transmission take so long that the technician’s children would be drawing pensions by the time they knew what she was saying.
“Have you finished the assignment?” the voice on the other end rasped.
“Yes, they’re on board,” Raven whispered into the phone.
“All three?”
“Yes. Three so far, maybe more. They know what is at stake, and they’re ready do what is needed.”
“Then you’ve done well, love. I will be in contact.”
Raven folded her cell phone and rounded the corner. She smiled seductively at Bobby Drake as he and Kitty Pryde passed by, and Bobby turned as they walked, watching Raven stride towards the briefing room.
“You should totally go after her,” Kitty said sarcastically, striding purposefully towards the gymnasium. “I think she has the hots for you.”
“Who doesn’t, Sweetness?” Bobby said, “but Raven is a little too senior for this citizen. I prefer kittens over cats.”
“We’ll have to find you one of those.”
“No need, Baby. I’ll chase your tail as far as I need to.”
“You are disgusting,” Kitty spat. “Go hump a chair or something before I make you eat the appendage you’re thinking with.”
“Aw, c’mon, Kitten,” Bobby smiled, “you can’t deny that there’s something between us.”
“Yeah,” Kitty said, tunneling straight down. She landed on the floor of the lower corridor, looking up at the ceiling. “The floor and a boatload of class.”
She turned to walk towards the stairs, eager to get to the gym.
“Not many people wanderin’ around down here,” Logan said, and Kitty jumped at the sound of his voice, thick and husky, coming from the shadows.
“There’s no place like home,” Kitty thought to herself, her brow instantly erupting in sweat.
[NOW: Steamboat Springs, Colorado…]
Warren smiled as he opened the door, seeing Jean standing in front of him, Scott standing behind her left shoulder. She was just as beautiful as he had remembered. Every time he saw her, he relived their entire relationship in a quick flood of memories, like a lightning stroke firing through his head.
“Hello Jean,” he said finally, completely ignoring Scott’s presence.
“Hello, Warren,” she said, her smile arguing with the uncomfortable look in her eyes.
Warren looked over her shoulder and his smile grew noticeably less friendly and more forced. “Scott.”
“Warren,” Scott replied, his own face a mask of stoicism.
Warren invited them in, leading them into the solarium, where a tray of fresh fruit and a pitcher of ice water sat on a glass table surrounded by white leather arm chairs and beautiful plants. The dark slate floor contrasted starkly with the white limestone walls leading up to the striking glass semi-circular wall that faced the mountains in the west.
They helped themselves to some cold water and Scott picked up a bright green apple. Settling down into the comfortable chairs, Warren smiled at Jean once more, and then leaned back.
“So,” Warren said, “what brings you guys out this way?”
Scott drew in a breath, but before he could speak, Jean took over. “Warren,” she said, hesitating, “it’s time. The situation we’ve talked about in the past… it’s here.”
Scott looked at her, his eyes slightly narrower, his lips pursed together, his brow furrowed. She didn’t look at him, her eyes simply glanced to her left, as if barely acknowledging his presence.
She didn’t need telepathy to know that Scott was angry with her, and feeling betrayed over the fact that Warren seemed to be in the loop even before he was. Right now, Jean knew Scott would be wondering how she and Warren would have discussed a situation, the union of select elements of Weapon X and the Brotherhood of Men, that hadn’t come to pass until just days ago when Warren and Jean hadn’t seen each other in over a year.
Warren glanced at him and smiled a somewhat smug grin, knowing just as well as she did that he was enraged at the moment, infuriated that somehow, some way, Warren knew something that he thought he didn’t.
“C’mon, Slim,” Warren smiled, “don’t tell me you thought you were the first one to think about a merger?”
“Of course not,” Scott grinned back at him. “I knew you’d need to talk about something when I sent you to talk her down.” He took a bite from the crisp apple, smiling as he reasserted his veneer of smug confidence. “I mean, it’s not like you had anything else in common.”
It was Warren’s turn to drop the intensity on his smile, staring coolly at the red eyes glistening at him. Warren appraised him, taking the man’s measure with great calculation. Scott took great pride on his logic, and the one subject that could ever shake him in that was Jean Grey, especially when it appeared that Jean had shared information with Warren.
“So let me guess,” he began, smiling at Jean again, “You, Scott, Ororo, Kurt, Bobby, Shiro, and Logan?” Angel counted off the names, reveling as the look on Scott’s face transformed once again from smug to put off.
“You’re close,” Scott quickly regained his composure, “but your intel is a little off.”
“You mean the tin man and the ghost girl?” Angel nodded. “I didn’t think Logan would get them that fresh.”
Jean leaned forward, looking down at the floor before looking back at Warren. “Shiro isn’t involved.”
“He’s… he’s not?” Warren asked, clearly perplexed. “That’s a shock.”
Jean smiled uncomfortably again, looking out at the trees. “So can we count on your support, Warren?”
Warren leaned back, tenting his fingers as his elbows rested on the arms of the chair. He stared off at the far wall, calculating the odds and angles in his head. “I can provide a moderately equipped facility, two transports, one air, one ground, and an eight figure capital base. But I want in.”
Scott scoffed loudly, shaking his head. “Look, fly boy, this isn’t the Adventurers Club. There are high stakes involved, and I’m not sure you’re up to-”
“I’m in,” Warren said, “or you can seek your funding from another source. Let me set this straight, Summers. I’m not the same trust fund teen you knew and loathed. I’m one of the smartest men on the planet. I’m number three on the list of most influential businessmen in the world. My company brings in $44 billion in annual profit and our stock has split five times in the past three calendar years. I did not reach this lofty position by blindly dumping capital into a venture that promises no profit, stands to publicly ruin me should my connection be uncovered, and is being led by a man who despises me in every way.” He leaned forward, grinning as he looked under his brow at Scott. “And if you have any doubts about my ability to handle a combat situation, well, I suggest you take a poke at me. You’ll find me more than capable of defending myself.”
Cyclops smiled, unleashing a blast of energy from his eyes directly at Warren.
[THREE YEARS AGO: Location Unknown…]
“Welcome to the team,” Shiro Yoshida said.
Jean nodded, brushing a few hairs back from her eyes and tucking them behind her ears. “Thanks, Mr. Yoshida. It’s good to be here.”
“Please, call me Shiro. Erik has requested you be shown to his office as soon as you arrived,” Shiro said, “so please, follow me.”
Jean nodded, following him into the hallway.
“I’m sure you have many questions,” Shiro said, walking slowly through the high marble walled hallway.
“I have some,” Jean replied, “but I didn’t want to seem too eager.”
“Ah, yes, you do not wish to appear duplicitous. But there are two factors to consider. One; if you are a spy, and your coming here is an act of deception, there is nothing we could tell you that would be of any use to your superiors. And two; if you are not a spy, and are instead here to genuinely expand your mind, there is nothing we could tell you that will make you regret that.”
Jean nodded. “I guess the first question I’d have is how did you choose what discipline to study?”
“It is not as simple as choosing a college class,” Shiro smiled. “The process is complex, and requires intense meditation and contemplation before the answer is revealed.”
“So you don’t choose,” Jean replied, “it chooses you?”
Shiro laughed. “Something like that.”
Jean walked for a few more feet in silence, looking down at the floor as if searching for answers. At last, she looked back at Shiro and cocked her head. “So what made one of the greatest scientific minds of our era join the Brotherhood of Men?”
“My father was founder of Yoshida Electronics. We were on the forefront of the development of the Genetic Modification technology Weapon X uses. When my potential was discovered, I was naturally anticipating induction into Weapon X, but my father refused to allow me to undergo the Gene Mod until I spoke to a man named Erik Lensherr. He told me of the original Weapon X trials, and showed me there was a greater way to unleash the potential locked within me.”
“So your father suspected the Gene Mod treatments are dangerous?” Jean asked him, concern and confusion etched across her face.
Shiro stopped walking, looking at her with a gentle smile on his face. “Tampering with the human genetic structure to allow people to freeze moisture in the air? Altering body chemistry to enable instant cloning? Infusing nano-technology into human tissue to let a man blast through steel plate with his eyes? What part of that doesn’t sound dangerous?”
Jean nodded and smiled, though it was devoid of all humor. She looked as if she had finally gotten the punch line of a joke not worth laughing at.
“Here we are,” Shiro said, gesturing at the door in front of them. He opened the door, and gestured into the large chamber. The walls and floors were dark and metallic, giving the structure a very industrial feeling. Contrasting the severity of the surroundings, one entire wall of the room was replaced by a tremendous southern facing window, casting brilliant sunlight onto the vast variety of plant life that flourished in the open space.
In the center of the room, a large metallic desk stood like a sentinel, flanked by simple chairs. Standing around the desk was a group of four people, two men, and two women. To one side, a thin woman with milky skin stood nearly engulfed by a tremendous crimson robe, only a slight sliver of her red peasant dress visible beneath. Her face was framed by cascading locks of auburn hair, coming to a rest just above the swell of her bosom. Here eyes seemed to dance with an almost ethereal quality as she gazed down at the map laid out on the table.
Next to her, a lean muscular man of similar complexion with hair so blond it was nearly white leaned over the desk, his fists supporting his upper body as he looked down on the map, his body covered in a sleek navy blue and white skin suit. He did not move so much as he twitched, every subtle shift in weight or gesture happening almost instantly. His face was locked in a perpetual scowl, his brow furrowed in concentration.
Another woman with dark ebony skin and stark white streaks in her black hair stood on the other side of the desk. Her stance and posture conveyed an almost regal appearance, helped by her radiant beauty and the flowing black robes she wore. She turned and smiled at Jean as she entered. The trio was almost certainly nobility, if not royalty.
Between them, a tall man with white hair stood, a deep purple cape hung off his broad shoulders over what appeared to be a crimson dress uniform. His face was stoic, his eyes holding years of wisdom. This quartet represented the brain trust of the Brotherhood of Men, the leadership structure of the entire organization, and suddenly, Jean felt very small.
The tall man with white hair smiled at her, his stoic façade cracking, his face taking on a genuine warmth that instantly took Jean off guard.
“Ah, Jean Grey,” he said, holding his hands out to either side, “my name is Erik Lensherr. Welcome to Avalon.”
[NOW: Steamboat Springs, Colorado…]
Warren sprung into the air with a supernatural agility, having leapt at the first sign of any energy build-up in Scott’s eyes. Warren looped high overhead as Scott’s burst reflected off the window behind him, returning to it’s source and hitting Scott in the face like a hard slap.
“Scott!” Jean exclaimed, jumping up.
“Ruby Quartz windows, Warren?” Scott grinned, rising to his feet. “Poor investment. Frivilous spending.”
“One never knows when one’s company might get unruly,” he said, hovering lower and lower, his feet now mere inches off the ground. He floated unsupported in the air.
Scott nodded, his hand going to his belt. He keyed a button on one of his utility pouches, and a sharp burst of sound popped through the room. Warren dropped quickly to the ground, not looking surprised in the slightest. “Hank equipped me with a scramble burst transmitter, keyed into the frequency of your abilities, just in case I needed to cancel you out,” Scott said smugly, recalling Warren’s words from so long ago. “Looks like you were bluffing about changing the frequency when you left our little ‘Mickey Mouse Club.’ “ He grinned and unleashed another burst of energy.
“Hai!” Warren yelled, crossing his arms in front of his chest, and large semi-transparent wings snapped into existence, crossing in front of him and shielding him from the blast. The wings looked like they were made of shaped soap bubbles, but they were obviously durable enough to withstand one of Scott’s bursts. He extended his arms in Scott’s direction, and the wings ‘feathers’ leapt forth, bombarding Scott and bludgeoning him backwards until he flipped over the chair, spilling off his feet to the floor. Warren leapt into the air again, soaring across the room and landing over Scott. He dropped a knee into Scott’s chest, and pinned his neck with his forearm. “The only thing stupider than announcing your counter measure three years in advance, Slim, is falling for a bluff that your opponent didn’t prepare against it. I did change that frequency the day I left Weapon X. And I picked up a few tricks along the way,” he said, his energy wings spanning out behind him.
Scott nodded in genuine respect. “Well played, fly boy. Welcome to the team.”
[NOW: Weapon X Headquarters…]
“Sorry,” Kitty stammered, “I didn’t think this space was off limits.”
“It’s not, Punkin’, I just like it down here because it’s quiet. It allows me to think in peace.”
Kitty nodded, and saw a room at the end of the hallway opposite the stairs. On the wall, a large landscape adorned a rough canvas. The architecture in the painting suggested Mt. Fuji at sunset, but at this distance she could not be sure. Two swords rested on a display table, with small incense holders on either side.
“So, you’re into samurais and stuff, huh?” she said, her nervousness as plain as the nose on her face.
“Into it? Yeah, I guess you could say that,” Logan responded. “The way of the samurai is not an easy one, but nothing in life worth doing is easy.” He took a long drag off his cigar, letting the smoke curl up out of his nostrils before exhaling slowly. “The way of the samurai is about honor, courage… and discipline. Something my life had been lacking for a while.”
“I see,” Kitty said, looking around nervously. “Well, I should be going,” she said, backing towards the stairs and trying her best not to look frightened. “I wanted to get in some training down in the gym.”
“Without knowledge of learning, one will ultimately have no military victories,” Logan said, smiling at her. “Imagawa Sadayo said that.”
“Did he die in battle fighting ninjas or something?”
“No. He died an old poet. He survived because he was always able to see the winds of change around him. Keep your eyes open, Kitty.”
“I will,” Kitty said, backing away further. She turned and bounded towards the stairs. She stopped and looked back, but Logan had already closed the door.
[THE FUTURE: The Special Ops Division of Greymalkin Labs…]
“The portal is almost ready,” the technician said, turning away from Cable as he stood watching the monitors.
“You’ll be in sub-arctic temperatures, so make sure your bio-thermal field stays up until you can get to shelter,” a thin woman with graying hair tied up an a tight bun advised him.
“Yes ma’am,” Cable replied, grinning.
“Ha ha, Cable,” she said, “but all of this tech won’t do us any good if you freeze to death. We need hard data on the genetic experiments they were doing back then so we can figure out… well, you know what the mission is.”
“I do. And I know what’s at stake. This is a moment that shaped history. I’m going to make damned sure that nothing gets in the way.”
“Well, please be careful. And get back safe. I will be waiting.”
“You worry too much,” Cable said, leaning in and kissing her. She returned his kiss, lingering for only a moment, and then pulled back.
“Not in front of everyone,” she said, “it’s unprofessional.”
“Yes, ma’am, sorry ma’am,” Cable said, saluting her comically.
“Just be careful Cable,” she said. “There was a lot of magic being tossed around back then.”
“I will. And don’t worry,” Cable said, kissing her again quickly. “I’ll be back. I love you, Kitty Pryde.”
Kitty smiled a sweet smile, looking him in the eyes. “I love you too.”
TO BE CONTINUED...