Disclaimer: Bard College is a real place, and no slander of it is meant. Botman belongs to Chris Van Dyke and John Hollowatch. All other characters are property of Marvel.
Charles Xavier looked around his study at his X-Men, the ones who believed in his dream enough to fight and possibly die for it. Cyclops, Iceman, Wolverine, Magik, Colossus, Storm, Wolfsbane, Karma, Rogue, Mirage. “Before the debate tomorrow, I believe we should go over our information about Dr. Grey’s…shifters.” He choked on the word a little. John Grey’s term, Homo Fluxus, Changing Man, had recently replaced Xavier’s Homo Superior in academic circles. Hence, the politically correct term had become ‘shifters’ instead of ‘mutants’.
“Ah don’t see why, Professor,” Rogue protested. “As far as we know, they ain’t fighters.”
“Yes, as far as we know,” said Xavier. But if we’re going to be in their home territory, we must prepare ourselves for any contingency. And there is another reason for concern.” He handed a sheaf of magazine and newspaper clippings to Scott. “Since they are far less secretive than we are about their lives, we don’t have to go to extreme lengths to get accurate information. Pass those around, Scott.”
Xavier settled back in his chair. He knew the files by heart. “Grey’s first student was his daughter, Jean, apparently a strong telepath and telekinetic. I knew her for a short time when her powers first manifested; she was nearly catatonic. Grey was most ungrateful for my help. In the spirit of her father’s teachings, Jean runs a free clinic in New York, where shifters can learn to control their abilities and get help in finding a job or an education. She’s begun working with the Morlocks to that end. She’s married to the billionaire Warren Worthington, who has the ability of flight. He helps finance both the clinic and Dr. Grey’s work at Bard College, in Annandale-on-Hudson, NY, where the debate will be held. But I am much more concerned about Grey’s colleague, Dr. Erik Lensherr, who will also be involved in the debate.”
“Magneto?” Scott asked sharply, double-checking the photo to make sure. “What’s he doing there?” “He’s apparently helping Dr. Grey and teaching history and philosophy at Bard. Do you begin to understand my concern, Rogue?”
Rogue nodded, taking the clippings from Scott to examine them. “Most of ‘em look like ordinary kids. Awful young. But then, so are we.”
“Exactly. Grey’s students are for the most part young and impressionable; we don’t know completely what he’s told them. Kurt Wagner, a teleporter, and Meggan, a metamorph, were both apparently gypsies, unaware of the world outside their Kumpanias. And Grey saved Wagner from a crazed mob, we have to assume Wagner is loyal because of that.” He glanced at Rahne, gave her an encouraging smile. Her own story was not so different; he didn’t want her to doubt herself. “Kitty Pryde--”
“Pryde?” Illyana echoed. “Let me see that picture.” She reached across three people and snatched the clippings. “Yeah, I think that’s her. And this guy Kurt, he was named Nightcrawler--” she looked up at the others. “The alternate X-Men, in Limbo. Nightcrawler was one of Belasco’s toys by the time I met him. But Cat Pryde was my teacher for years. I was closer to her than anyone in my life. And then Belasco took her too, and I killed them both.” Her voice was hollow at the memory.
“We tried to recruit Kitty before you came to the X-Men, Illyana,” Xavier said, “I’ve done some independent investigation since then, and uncovered that her father was involved in the Japanese underworld. He disappeared on a business trip over a year ago and is presumed dead.
“There are two other foreigners at the school, both from Brazil: Amara Aquila of Nova Roma, and the scion of a rich industrialist, Roberto Dacosta. Amara apparently can control seismic disruptions and magma, and Roberto has super strength.”
“Hey, isn’t that Dr. McCoy?” Bobby interrupted, looking at the next photo.
“Yes, Henry McCoy was a student at Bard for a short time. His abilities are better known, obviously, after his short stint with the Avengers. Grey’s last two students are Samuel Guthrie, who uses tremendous force to fly, and Douglas Ramsey, whose talent is for languages. He’s only fifteen, but he’s already the new darling of the American Archaeological society for cracking the code for Linear B, a dead language thousands of years old. Samuel doesn’t go to Bard; he goes to the nearby state university. His sister Paige was recently accepted, and will be attending at the same school. We have to assume she’s a shifter too.” He waited while his X-Men looked over the articles and pictures. “They might try to recruit you, and there’s always the threat of a battle, especially with Magneto there. I don’t want to start a fight, but we should be ready in case one breaks out.”
In a little kitchen in upstate New York, a white-haired man once called the most despicable terrorist in history drank jasmine tea with a fifteen year old girl from Illinois. “It was luck, then,” Erik read, adjusting the seam of his blue turtleneck.
“Or fate,” Kitty Pryde said.
“Yours or ours?”
“Could hardly be one without the other,” she said.
“Fate, then.” He closed the book. “All right, that’s enough for now. I think you’ve got it.”
“Aw, but we haven’t even gotten to my favorite line!” Kitty protested with a grin.
“Katherine, we’ve been over this scene twice. And Xavier will be arriving with his students shortly.”
“What’s he like?” she asked.
Erik sipped his tea for a moment, looking out the window. “I don’t know anymore. I used to think he was an innocent, handling the world with kid gloves. And you know what Professor Grey thinks of him.”
“Yeah, that he’s a reverse-racist fanatic.”
“The truth lies somewhere between the two. An idealist whose methods neither I nor Grey agree with.”
She dug out a collapsible board from under the kitchen table. “Backgammon or chess?”
“Chess. You cheat at backgammon.”
“I don’t cheat! I just have a psychic sense about where to put my pieces. An affinity with the gods of backgammon.”
The door burst open. “My excellent good friends!” said Kitty.
“Oh no, here she goes again,” Doug groaned, tossing down his fencing gear.
“More Rosencrantz and Guildenstern?” Meg guessed. “For crying out loud, Kitty, Kurt doesn’t quote it endlessly.” Meg was dressed in her usual all-black danskins, this time with a wraparound skirt around her willowy body, but her ash-blonde hair, pulled back with a black barrette, and her grin marred the gothic image.
“I’ve got a bigger part,” said Kitty. “You guys all look great.”
“Fragging monkey suit,” Hank grumbled.
“Appropriate for monkeys, then,” she teased, tousling his hair. He smacked her lightly in return.
“I thought we were going to be late,” Jean interrupted breathlessly as she entered the room, her concerned husband hovering over her and her sister Sarah at her side.
“You made it!” Hank yelled, hugging Jean. He touched one hand gently to her stomach. “How’s the little one?”
“I think he’s got his father’s wings, the way he keeps fluttering around in there,” said Jean.
The doorbell rang and the kitchen’s occupants went out rather than trying to squeeze more people into the tiny room. Kitty was surprised by the group at the door. She’d expected spandex-clad heroes, but the X-Men were dressed as formally and conservatively as the Bard crew.
“Good to see you again, Charles,” said Grey. “The college president, Botman, wanted you to dine at the cafeteria, but if you like you and your students can eat here before the debate. It’ll be a picnic, I’m afraid we don’t have room in the kitchen for everyone.”
“That’s fine.” The wheelchair-bound bald man indicated the people behind him. “I’d like you to meet Scott Summers,” a slim man with red sunglasses, “Robert Drake,” a grinning man who fidgeted in his suit and tie, “Xian Coy Man,” a young Vietnamese girl with a sad face, “Danielle Moonstar,” a tall Indian girl with long black braids, “Logan,” the short, hairy man Kitty had met once before, when the X-Men had tried to recruit her. Leaning against him was a hard-eyed blonde girl, “Illyana Rasputin, and her brother Peter,” the huge Russian boy she’d also met before, along with Ororo Munroe, the white-haired black woman in the stylish black dress, “Rogue,” a young woman with a stripe through her hair like a skunk, “and Rahne Sinclair.” a solemn little redhead who examined the Bard kids with a worried frown.
“Good to meet all of you in person,” Grey said as the various people started shaking hands and sizing each other up. “This is my daughter, Jean, her husband Warren, Hank, Roberto, Kitty, Doug, Meg, Kurt, Sam, Amara, and of course you all know Erik.”
“Magneto,” Rogue growled.
Illyana searched Kitty’s eyes for something. “Um, hi,” Kitty said awkwardly. A hint of disgust or dismissal showed in Illyana’s eyes, and Kitty wanted to give her a good punch in the jaw.
“Let’s get the grill set up,” Grey interrupted. Hank and Warren followed him into the house while Mrs. Grey and Jean fussed with Indian blankets, plates, bowls and silverware, trying to set everything up neatly on the lawn.
“I do not eat meat,” Ororo protested.
“Not a problem,” Jean replied smoothly, “we’ve got veggie burgers for anyone crazy enough to eat them, and there’s plenty of soup and soda...and beer,” she added with a glance at Logan.
Dinner was an awkward affair, a mix of meaningless pleasantries and long silences. “I’m not sure what kind of a crowd we’ll see,” Grey warned, “Bard gets very little radio or television reception, and few newspapers. We’re pretty cut off. But plenty of people make the drive up from the city when Botman puts on a concert of classical music. “We’ll just have to see when we get there.”
They hurried over to the performance hall early. It was already packed. Reporters, political commentators, one or two celebrities, and plenty of college students packed every seat, swarmed the aisles, sat in each other’s laps. Both the X-Men and Grey’s students picked their way through the crowd, ending up scattered all over the room.
“Are you all right with this, Erik?” Grey murmured as they waited behind stage. “You can back out if you like. Claim illness.”
Erik looked around to make sure they were out of earshot of the others. “I believed, John. I was willing to kill for my dream. I was wrong. I’ve avoided public scrutiny because I didn’t know what answer I could give for my actions. Because I don’t know what to believe anymore. I’m afraid I’ll do more harm than good, John. If I endorse the wrong dream, or if my unpopularity discredits you, I don’t know what I’ll do.”
“You’ll learn, pick yourself up out of the dust and try again, the way humans have done since the beginning of time.” John Grey smiled. “When you first told me who you really were, after I’d taken you into my confidence, I nearly threw you out. But you’ve proven yourself, Erik. You’re a good man, an honest man. I’m glad you’re here.”
With that, Botman, Charles Xavier, John Grey and Erik Lensherr all made their way to their places on stage. “Before we begin, I’d like to thank you for coming,” said Botman. “For the last fifty years, the shifter population has been growing exponentially. Laws like the Shifter Registration Act, whether just or unjust, will do little good when shifters outnumber normal humans. Obviously, something has to be done before the problem comes to a head. Both you, Professor Xavier, and you, Dr. Grey, have spoken of peaceful coexistence. Dr. Lensherr has held different views over the years. Can you each describe how you mean to build your Utopia?”
Xavier looked out at the audience. At his X-Men, waiting for him to defend his dream. At Grey’s students, wanting him to fail. There were adults in the audience, all well dressed, but the students who had shown up all had dyed hair and ragged, freakish clothing ranging from hippy to goth. No wonder Grey felt confident setting up his school here; between the odd student population and the lack of television, radio and newspapers, he had a tolerant community cut off from the outside world.
“Homo…Fluxus and Homo Sapiens have to learn to live together without ignorance or fear. As in any fight for equality, there are always bigots on both sides who think the only solution is for them to seize power.” This with an almost imperceptible glance at Mag -- at Erik. “The bigots cannot be allowed to dictate their hate and fear to those of us caught in the middle. The government has done many studies on the threat of the genetically gifted, but that threat refers only to a small group of individuals. The main population of shifters have weak, minor powers, or simply unusual appearances. Why should they be punished for the actions of a few outlaws?”
“That’s a good question,” Grey replied smoothly. “Why haven’t the X-Men ever answered it?”
“The world needs superheroes to fight supervillains. What the X-Men do, risking their lives for a populace that fears and hates them, goes above and beyond the call of duty.” He smiled benevolently out at the audience.
“But the X-Men and others like them are held to no code of laws but their own discretion. They go cloaked in spandex and pseudonym, making it hard for the government to find them and make them answer for their actions. They decide whom they fight, for what reasons, and how far they are willing to go. New Yorkers aren’t afraid of people with green skin, Xavier. They’re not scared of what people can do in their spare time. I can play the kazoo, but I don’t do so on a crowded street on Fifth Avenue. No, what the general population is scared of is that because of the X-Men and similar groups, they essentially live under martial law. At any moment, war could break out right in front of them, neither side held accountable for their actions. Their property taxes go through the roof. They and their loved ones could be injured or killed in the crossfire.” The X-Men were seething in their seats.
“Someone has to keep superhuman threats in check,” Xavier protested.
“Yes, the military, which answers to the government and the people. If shifters want to fight crime, let them join the police, the air force, or the army; let them work within the system. The Avengers and the Fantastic Four are a step in the right direction: they have addresses. People can ask them to take responsibility for the things they wreck. But vigilantism is illegal, Xavier, no matter what the reason. The so-called heroes dig their own graves by working outside the law, because if the government tried to crack down on superhuman crime, they would have no choice but to restrict the X-Men and the Avengers as well. If you stuff someone in a uniform and jack boots, take away their identity, take away their accountability, how can you expect the average citizen to embrace that person without fear?”
Colossus’s arm was all that kept Rogue from flying up to the stage to dismember Grey, and several other audience members, X-Men and normals, muttered and stirred in their seats.
“My Utopia is similar to Xavier’s, but my means of creating it couldn’t be more different,” said Grey. “In my Utopia, genetic predestination of any kind will not dictate the lives of those who have it or those around them. Shifter abilities, like any other human faculty, will be legal unless used to harm others, and training to control and use those abilities will be accessible to all. Those who are different, whether because of skin color, religion, sexual preference or shifter ability, will have the opportunity to live and love like everyone else on this planet we share.
“Shifters must tear off their masks, walk in the daylight, live with themselves and with their actions. When the man with green skin is your bus driver, when the woman who can heal with a touch is your doctor, when the man who can create light is your senator or president, and when they can choose to use their genetic abilities or let their other interests dictate their pursuits, then the rest of the population will cease living in fear and ignorance.”
“You’re not a shifter. You have no idea what you’re talking about,” said Xavier.
“Are you one? Because from where I sit, I can’t tell, and neither can anyone else in the audience. If you were a shifter, you could pass. There are people in this room who can’t. They’re the ones who will have to live with our decision. Further, violence against people with birth defects -- fused fingers, harelips -- is on the rise because of anti-shifter hysteria. What answers can you give these people? They will pay the price of your dream too, but they aren’t shifters. Their plight will go unanswered.”
“Dr. Lensherr, you’ve been very quiet about all this,” Botman interrupted, straightening his bow tie.
Erik cleared his throat, stared out at the audience, and paled. Finally, slowly, as the room hushed, he undid his cuff and pulled up his shirtsleeve. “Do you know what these numbers mean?” he asked the audience in a shaky voice. “They mean that my first memories, more than fifty years ago, were of hatred. I was put in a death camp with Jews, Gypsies, Communists, anyone the Germans wanted eradicated. That should have taught me to always remember the scapegoats of the dreams of men. Instead, it taught me never to let anyone else dictate my fate, to be the dreamer instead of the scapegoat.” His voice cracked a little, but his eyes pierced everyone in the crowded room. “How much longer will we let hate and separation teach each coming generation to hate and separate? I don’t know what I want. I’ve come to realize that no one man, myself or any other, should dictate how the rest of the world lives their lives. All people -- regardless of the dictates of nature or the choices of their private hearts -- black and white, shifter and normal, gay and straight, Jew and Mormon, should be free to decide their lives for themselves.”
After the debate, the four men exited the stage. “That was an amazing speech, Erik. Truly inspiring.” Grey touched his friend’s shoulder. “I know that couldn’t have been easy.”
“You didn’t fight fair,” Xavier accused Grey as they used the back entrance of the building to avoid the crowd. “You kept forcing the issue back to the X-Men, using the media’s distortions of them for your own ends.”
“You’re free to believe that,” Grey replied smoothly.
“And you,” Xavier turned on Erik, “You always told me that humans and mutants could never coexist. Why are you defending him?”
“You should talk, you--” Kitty growled at Xavier.
“Katherine,” Eric shook his head, restraining her. “Charles, I came here to destroy Grey. To show his students they didn’t have to bottle up their potential and knuckle under a mere human. I was certain that a human could never understand the problems we face. I came in disguise. I didn’t want my infamy tainting their opinions before I won them over. But they didn’t want to go, Charles. They didn’t need to go. Kurt Wagner is blue. He’s a teleporter. He’s also captain of the fencing team, majoring in film with a minor in philosophy. He’s dating a normal girl, a student here, and on free weekends they go clubbing together in the city. He’s currently debating whether to go on to seminary or film school or both. He has everything he wants. He doesn’t want your revolution, Charles, or mine.”
Off to the side, Grey’s students tried valiantly to hold back the X-Men intent on confronting him.
“That was pretty obnoxious, using us for your argument when we couldn’t stand up and defend ourselves.” Rogue growled.
“Really? I’ve seen audiences disrupt debates before to offer questions or comments,” said Grey.
“Ya know what ah mean. We were out of costume.”
"That’s your decision. You were right there; you could have spoken up at any time. Don’t blame me,” said Grey.
“We shouldn’t stand around here fighting,” Grey tried to speak over the crowd.
“You’re right,” Logan interrupted, “Let’s fight elsewhere. Say, a friendly match in the woods?” He gave them all a feral grin.
“They’re not combat trained,” Grey protested. “That’s not what we do here.”
“You’re on,” Roberto agreed.
“Berto,” Doug groaned.
“Oh, come on. We can loan everyone work clothes to keep our dress stuff clean,” Warren decided. “But we need a few ground rules. No damage to property, people, animals or the woods. If you leave the woods, you’re out of the game. If you’re tagged out, you leave and stop playing.”
“Jean and Chuck have to stay out of it,” Logan added, eyeing first Xavier’s wheelchair and then Jean’s swollen belly. Jean frowned, but didn’t protest. “And don’t pry from the sidelines, either.”
“Fine,” Erik agreed. “We’ll start up on north campus, by the swamp, you’ll start down south and we’ll meet in the middle. Kurt, you’ll take them to the tree house and ‘port over to us; that’ll start the game.”
“Let’s get on with it then,” said Roberto.
Erik looked over the motley crew as they headed for the far north end of the woods. “The X-Men are battle trained. They work in concert, something we never focused on. We’re going to have to exploit every advantage we have. We know the territory. Use it to your advantage. You know all the hiding places, all the slippery rocks. Meg, I want you to be subtle. Use your talents to blend in with the scenery, keep them off guard. Rogue hates stealing powers that require physical transformation, so as long as you don’t back her into a corner, you can use that against her. Stay away from Wolverine, all of you. He’s a trained killer, and he might take this too far. Remember, Karma and Mirage can trick or control you. Stay in pairs so you can check each other’s behavior. Amara, you and Doug can’t use your powers here; I want you teamed up as pranksters. Hank, Kurt, you’re the most agile; I want the two of you together. Sam, I want you flying patrol with Warren, but keep your blasting power low to reduce noise. Use Warren as a distraction while you go in for the kill. Roberto, you work as backup for Meg. I’ll pair up with Kitty. I want Mirage and Karma taken out first, understand? Go for the powerhouses last.”
“Sheesh, it’s only a game,” Doug commented.
“Jeez, Doug,” Kitty rolled her eyes, “don’t you get it? They want to see how we measure up. This is as important as the debate. We have to beat them on their own terms.”
Illyana watched Kurt as they walked, looking for any signs of the slimy Nightcrawler beneath the jeans, tee shirt and furry blue body. He was only about four years older than her in this reality, with a boyish grin and an easy, cheerful manner. She looked around at her surroundings, as Cat and Wolverine had always trained her to. It was pitch black, a warm summer night on the Hudson. They stood in a field, an English garden at their backs, the forest before them. Kurt teleported away, leaving the X-Men alone.
“All right, it’s dark, and they have the home court advantage,” said Scott. “We’re going to make a living net of people, so they can’t sneak up behind us. Spread out to cover more ground, and be careful of Kurt teleporting behind you. Okay, people, let’s do it.”
They spread out, heading down the hill as quietly as they could. Scott chuckled, looking up at the sky. Warren was flying around like the world’s biggest target. Idiot. And he was right above a wide, soft patch of river mud, too. Scott took careful aim and lifted his glasses. The winged man dropped like a stone.
“Behind you!” Bobby yelled, throwing ice. The cold mass caught Sam Guthrie in the eyes, blinding him. He switched off his blasting power, but still slammed into Scott headfirst, throwing them both against a tree. Scott’s chest ached despite his protective armor. Sam was worse off, fighting him with all the ability of a woozy drunk. Bobby hit Sam on the back of the head. “Two down. You okay, fearless leader? Come on, stay with me, buddy. Can’t have you out of the game.”
“Uuhhh--” Scott managed. “Come on, we have to keep moving.” Leaning on Bobby, he started off deeper into the woods.
Doug crouched in his cave, watching Danielle Moonstar creep through the woods with all the ability of a seasoned tracker. Easy prey. She didn’t see him, hidden right inside the cave mouth. Closer, closer, come on, check it out, NOW! He punched her in the jaw as she came past. Dani struggled to her feet, but Amara caught her by the hair.
“I could burn you,” said Amara. “You’re dead.”
“Not bad,” Dani grumbled.
Doug touched Amara’s shoulder. “One down. Let’s move.” They faded into the shadows.
Colossus wandered through the woods, looking around. He couldn’t see more that a foot in front of his -- someone tapped his shoulder. No one there. He swung a punch, heard a rush of air, and someone gave him a wedgie. He shifted to armored form with a roar of anger, whirled around. Something leapt up on his fist, leapt over him, grabbed his throat, spinning him around. He charged, and the ground disappeared under him, plunging him head first into the thick mud of the Hudson shore fifteen feet below. Someone grabbed him from behind! Bamph! bamph! bamph! bamph! He nearly threw up from vertigo. The last thing he heard as he lost consciousness was, “I think we did that quite well, wouldn’t you agree, mien herr?”
“Indubitably, my hirsute companion.”
Shan grinned as she saw a mop of white hair in the darkness. That fool Magneto had forgotten his most distinguishing feature was quite noticeable at night. She closed her eyes, focused, and suddenly saw the world through his eyes. She had him. Now to find his companions, so he could do her work for her.
Someone kicked her in the back of the knees. Karma’s concentration snapped. She fought back, scratching, biting, wrestling on the forest floor. She reached out, but she was too distracted by the physical threat to concentrate. The girl worked Shan around into a chokehold, squeezing, counting under her breath. “Good work, Katherine,” Shan heard as the world went black.
Cyclops was doing better by now. His ribs were still sore, but he and Bobby kept up a good pace. “Amateurs,” he heard a gravely voice behind him.
“Jesus, Wolverine--”
“Two of you’re making nice big targets of yourselves like that. I can see you yards away. You head that way,” he pointed Bobby in one direction, “And you come with me, Scott.”
Scott frowned at taking orders from Wolverine, but Logan was the better woodsman. It was his territory. “Do what he says, Bobby.” He hurried after Wolverine in the dark, trying to keep pace. “Got a plan?” he asked.
“Yup.” The short Canadian suddenly swung a punch. Cyke tried to roll out of the way, but it still connected hard enough with his jaw to make him stumble.
Something flew out of nowhere, kissed Wolverine on the lips. Logan turned into a lithe blonde girl, unconscious on the ground, and Rogue grinned. “Now we can use her powers against her teamma--” she broke off, choking in horror as her limbs grew and shrank uncontrollably, turning to flippers, claws, rotting flesh, metal, fur, too much! She fainted.
“Damn it.” Cyclops muttered. “I have to go find Bobby, she probably sent him into an ambush. Which way did he go?”
“They’re not bad,” Illyana murmured to her mentor as they crouched by a rotting stump. Kitty and Erik slid silently through the trees, almost invisible except for his shock of white hair.
“He’s been a partisan, a government spy, and a guerrilla. No real martial arts, just little tricks. But he’s taught her what he knows.” Logan began creeping forward. “Can you make a sound like Colossus over the next ridge? Make them split up?”
“I can try.” The sound of heavy metal feet echoed. Erik motioned for Kitty to stay, while he glided out of sight.
Logan raced forward, nearly upon Kitty before she heard him. She phased at the last instant, solidifying just enough to grab his fist and twist his fingers to immobilize him. It would have worked too, if she’d done it on anyone else. But Wolverine just let her break his fingers and kept going, letting his healing power do its work while he fought on. A few locks, one or two evasions, but every time she struck, she went for a vital organ or a nerve bundle. She wasn’t trained to fight; she was trained to kill. Since she didn’t want to kill them, she had to keep pulling her punches, tripping herself up. She was no match for him, but he couldn’t touch her unless he waited for her to hit him. He couldn’t grab her. Finally, she stuck her hand through his throat. “Even phased, I do have some mass, Wolverine. Enough to make it hard for you to breathe.” He tried to duck away, but she followed him, gliding silent a ghost.
Then he jerked away from her just before Magik hit Kitty with the flat of her soul sword, knocking her senseless to the ground. “I didn’t think that would work,” Illyana said, glancing down at the magical armor that suddenly encased her arm and torso.
“Next time, do it before she pulls a stunt like that. If she’d turned solid when you hit her with her hand in my throat--”
“There won’t be a next time.” Erik lifted them both with his magnetic field. “Surrender.”
“Like hell.” Logan growled.
Illyana suddenly banished her armor and sword, freeing herself from Erik’s grip and racing back off into the woods.
With a wave of Magneto’s hand, Logan’s fist was suddenly right under his own jaw. “If I wished, I could force you to extend your claws. Surrender.”
“Shit. All right, bub. You win.” Erik let him down, and Logan headed out of the woods.
A lightning bolt struck Erik’s force field, and he laughed. “Very foolish, Storm. Here, let me show you how it’s done.” He ignored the stab of pain in his head as he shook the magnetic fields of the earth around her, disrupting the very fabric of the air. She reeled and nearly fell in pain, but struck out again, using her lightning bolts to take control of his magnetic shields. The friction made the air shift and riot around them, but finally age and experience won out. Storm fell limp to the ground, and Erik stumbled off in search of easier prey.
The wolf bounded forward, snarling as she leapt up on Doug. The boy screamed and slapped at her ineffectually, gasping as the wind was knocked out of him. “Okay, okay, I surrender!”
Rahne turned human and offered Doug her hand, grinning shyly. He winced, obviously rattled and upset about being taken out so easily. Then his face broke into a smile. “Nice work.”
“Stand still!” Bobby yelled, shooting off random blasts of ice and snow.
Kurt laughed, fangs gleaming in the moonlight as he turned trees, ground and fighters into his own private jungle gym. “Ha!” he yelled, snatching the soul sword from Illyana as she skidded on her teammate’s ice. “Now, fraulien, allow me to demonstrate the proper use of a sword.”
“Careful, we’re not supposed to do them irreparable harm,” Hank reminded him, knocking Bobby’s legs out from under him.
“I know what I’m doing, mein freund.” Kurt protested, dancing the blade along Illyana’s clothes and armor, barely touching as he bounded through the air.
“Give that back! Give it back or I’ll blast the marrow from your bones! Illyana shrieked.
“Not very polite,” said Kurt, clubbing her with the pommel of her own blade and holding the edge against her throat. “Yield?”
She glared at the ground for a moment, then went for a side kick. He swept up her leg with his tail, knocked her flat on her back, the sword point never wavering from her throat. “Yield?” he repeated.
“Fine,” she muttered. He handed back the sword and she stormed out of the woods.
Beast gave a yell, and Kurt turned to see his friend encased up to his neck in ice. He teleported instantly, grabbed Bobby from behind, and got him in a chokehold. “You’re dead,” Kurt murmured as the X-Man gasped for air. Bobby tapped twice on Kurt’s arm, and Kurt let go. “You can let Hank out now. He’ll take you back to the house.” With that, he teleported away in search of his teammates.
Erik forced down waves of nausea and vertigo as he deflected Cyclops’s force beams. His battle with Storm had left him weak, disoriented. He couldn’t take much more of this. Beside him, Roberto was holding his own against Wolfsbane, but without sunlight, the Brazilian’s strength was fading fast. They had to end this now.
Just then, Kurt appeared and launched himself at Wolfsbane. She changed to her limber werewolf form, grabbing him and tussling with him on the ground, but he squirmed and writhed out of her grip, using his tail to get better leverage.
Roberto staggered to his feet and charged at Cyclops. Cyclops fired one last volley at Erik, a strobe of powerful beams. Erik collapsed on the ground, blood trickling from his nose.
“Professor!” Kurt shouted, reaching for Erik. It was all Wolfsbane needed to club the German into submission. Cyclops turned on Roberto at the last instant and fired carefully so as not to disintegrate the boy’s head. Endgame.
They made their way back to the house singly and in pairs, sometimes leaning on members of opposite teams for support. Coffee and cocoa waited back at the house. Hank tended the injured, still moving a little stiffly from cold cramps. Erik stumbled in with blood pouring from his nose, and Kitty ran to him. “What happened? Are you all right?”
“I’ll be fine.” He leaned heavily on Kitty. “I need to rest.” She helped him up the stairs.
“Well, what’s the verdict?” Jean asked.
“The X-Men won, the final score was ten to eight,” Scott reported. “Not bad for amateurs, but you’re lucky our ranks aren’t at full. We’ve got a few members on leave right now.”
“Mm.” Beast looked up from bandaging a light burn. “But as Professor Grey so aptly put it before, our training here, though rigorous, is not combat oriented.”
Kitty came down the stairs, looking tired and worried. Logan watched her out of the corner of his eye, smelled her as she passed. Illyana had told him of her relationship with Cat a long time ago. She said that in the other reality, Cat had been Wolverine’s protégé, just as Illyana had been Cat’s. As Illyana was now his. Kitty’s fighting techniques had shown little or no knowledge of martial arts, though they were graceful. A dancer trained as an assassin, perhaps? But there was a tension in her scent and a hardness in her movement that no ordinary teenager would have. He saw the way she defended Magneto, the seamless partnership between them, and he knew who had taught this girl to kill. That was no good. Her father had ties to the Japanese underworld. She’d been taught to fight and kill by a former terrorist. He had to find out where her loyalties lay. He pulled her away from the main group. “How do you like Bard?” he asked her.
“It’s great,” Kitty replied, unable to hide her unease at his attention. “Everyone’s really great here, “I’ll be sorry to leave.”
“Leave?” Logan asked.
“Yeah, I’m transferring to Princeton in the fall for my last two years. I’ve learned all I need to know about my abilities, and the science courses here just aren’t enough for me. But I’m going to miss it.”
“Mm. Princeton. Pretty impressive. Your parents must be proud.” She stiffened at that. “How do they feel about what you’re doing?”
“Mom’s proud of me.” Lie.
"And your Pop?”
"My Dad died last year.” She believed that part, at least. He filed that away for future reference.
Illyana came over to her and asked, “Can I talk to you for a minute? Privately?”
“In a minute.” Kitty walked over to Xavier. “So when do you guys think you’ll be back?”
"That depends. Have we worn out our welcome, Katherine?”
“It’s not up to me. And don’t call me Katherine. Only Erik does that.” She frowned at him. “So we were smart enough to make one of our own, all right? We didn’t steal anything.”
“What?” Warren asked, frowning.
“I think Xavier’s been trying to scan me to find out how we locate other shifters,” Kitty explained, narrowing her eyes at Xavier.
Xavier frowned. “That’s quite an accusation, Kitty.”
“Yeah? Ever since you and your crew got here, I keep finding my thoughts going back to it.”
“Yeah, mine too, earlier,” said Roberto.
“It’s not something I usually think about. I’m willing to bet you’ve been trying surface probes to find out what we know.”
“I don’t like what you’re implying, Kitty,” Xavier said.
“You could have just asked. You didn’t have to pry,” Kitty growled. “Yeah, we have a machine to locate shifters. Doug, Jean, Hank and I built it together. We got the idea from your Cerebro, the one you tested on Jean when she was little, before Professor Grey pulled her out of your school.” She gritted her teeth. “All you had to do was ask.” She turned away and walked out of the room.
Illyana followed. “I’m sorry about that. Usually he doesn’t use his powers like that.”
“Whatever,” Kitty muttered.
Illyana paused a long moment, then reached out a hand. “Kitty, I saw you fight Logan. You have a lot of light in your soul, and a lot of dark anger. And more strength than anyone I know, probably more strength than you know. I’m just warning you, you need to find some sort of balance, some teacher who can show you a different way. Or it’ll break you.”
“If this is your way of recruiting me--” Kitty jerked her hand away.
“It’s not. Kitty, please, you have to trust me.”
Kitty looked away. “They’re leaving. You should go.”
Illyana paused a second. “Logan’s got connections in Japan. If I promise to make him check out what happened to your father, will you start taking martial arts or find some other way to control the darkness?”
“How do you know about my Dad?”
“When the X-Men are in favor with the government, we hear things. Your father caught the Professor’s attention because he already had a file on you.”
“And why do you care?” Kitty asked bluntly.
Illyana paused, then turned to go. Over her shoulder, so softly Kitty had to strain to hear, “Maybe, long ago and far away, I had reason to.”
The Bard students headed back to their dorms in the evening drizzle while the X-Men got back into their cars. Logan waited for Illyana to hop on the back of his motorcycle before roaring off. The rest separated into two cars. “I’ll expect a full report of the battle from each of you when we get back,” Xavier ordered as Scott pulled the car out of the driveway and headed down the road.
“How do you think it went, sir?” Scott asked.
“Not as well as I’d hoped, but it’s a good beginning. We may be able to turn some of his students, make them realize the world needs people willing to fight for what’s right, not just talk about it,” said Xavier. “We may be back soon.”
“A second debate?” Scott asked.
“No, a funeral. I caught a trace of Kitty’s thoughts when she came downstairs. Magneto pushed himself too hard during your game. He suffered a mild brain hemorrhage. When I first met him, hemorrhages like that came close to killing him. If they continue to worsen … I don’t know if he’ll live out the year.”
End.