X-men 2099UG #12

They were intent on destroying the world.

It was not about purity or fear anymore. It was basic animal desire grown wild. It was about the wrong people holding all the power. Humanity was at its worst, knowingly slaughtering its own kind. Cities were laid to waste by the government's machines. Those who protested did so silently or forfeited their lives.

There were people like him with power though, tiny amounts of it, only enough to take this one so far, and this one so far. But together, with the others who could no longer stand by, it was enough to save. Not all of them. But...enough so he...so all of them could sleep at night.

Tonight his cargo was four, a family reunited by MUSE - the Mutant Underground Support Engine, and one straggler. They slept restlessly as the van sped along the empty highway. He was not surprised, surviving the horrors of the camps was not something that inspired calm nights. Soon they would be free. In a matter of hours. If the Nimrods did not find them first.

Yesterday's Arizona raid had been extremely costly. They had acted too soon. A medtech in a camp near Tempe had been leaking information on the security systems and rotations to MUSE for a month. She had finally seen what they kept hidden from the doctors. Mutants worked to death, experimented on, subverted against their own friends and family, and when they were no longer useful...incinerated. She hadn't known it was like that. She searched for an alternative...and had found it in MUSE.

The doctor hadn't known enough though, they were caught exiting during one of the satsweep cycles. They were only alive because Trigger had kamikaze'd on them. Given the bastards something to shoot at while they had all made their escape. The whole thing had been a wash. That camp was going to be liquidated for sure now that the break had gone above radar.

He looked back at his four passengers. They had been saved, though. And he would deliver them to the providence they deserved. He was the Driver and his was the most important role. He brought them to the Final Jump. He brought them to Avalon.

*     *     *

He drove alone these days. Bonded to the Nitroburn in mind and spirit, he pushed his vehicle to its limits. There was comfort in the speed, no one could touch him, no one could reach him. The world slowed and left him. And perhaps the faster he went, the faster he could atone for his crimes. The faster his victims would find peace in the oblivion he had created for them.

The Nitroburn was a ghost on the countryside. It flitted through the forest, its molecular structure out of phase with the environment around it. Trees and rockfaces passed through it completely. Air resistance was minimal in this state, allowing the Driver to rocket over the snow-covered hills and throw caution out the window.

With a thought, he queried the Nitroburn on the minutes left until he reached the abandoned school he had come to call his home. He doubted very few in the world, save him, knew the deep history of the school. Of the ghosts that haunted its chambers and the memories buried deep within. Amazing things had happened there, so long ago, and he felt humbled when he walked its confines.

Within an instant of his question, the Driver knew the answer. Four minutes until arrival at present speed. Long ago, after the Purge, his vehicle had been sabotaged. He had only survived with the help of a faceless group of benefactors. They rebuilt him piece by piece, bonding him to the vehicle he called the Nitroburn. They were as one mind, him and the car. At first it was an inherently uncomfortable experience. But over time, as he withdrew from a humanity that was losing its soul, he drew comfort from the bond. It was almost tragic that the only thing in the world he could trust was an inanimate object.

The Driver crested a hill, the valley beyond was a pool of darkness. The horizon was a pitch black jagged line of pine trees. The forest around the valley stretched for miles and miles, he knew. It was the kind of place you could walk into and never come back. The sky above was a dull grey that obscured the moon and the stars. Snow clouds, most likely.

The school was an empty manse sitting in isolation somewhere down there. A little more than a decade ago, it had been a private institution where the children of Alchemax execs were sent to learn. Only the best and brightest, being geared and conditioned for positions in the megacorp elite of the future. It was appalling, children being harvested for the future, yet another resource for Alchemax to take advantage of. All under the loosest pretense of dolling out an education.

It was abandoned after several of the teaching staff, led by the headmistress, had rabbited to Indy's and taken knowledge of the advanced technology within its walls with them. Rather than risk the same thing happening again, the students and institution were relocated to New York City and the little mansion in the middle of nowhere was abandoned. A team was stationed there initially to protect and study the advanced holographic technology, but they too were relocated when Alchemax shifted its attentions to genetic manipulation and the New Atlantis projects.

MUSE itself had begun there in that structure. Created over a century ago by the almost mythical Professor Xavier. It had become the perfect place for him to hide. He had important work to continue. There were mutants in trouble, and he was the only one who could save them.

*     *     *

"Do we destroy it? Do we try to disable it in some way? I mean, I'm almost afraid to turn it on," Tim said as he and Luna stood before a massive free-standing supercomputer. It was called the Accelerator and it was taller than they were. They both had seen it before, when they first encountered the Driver in a silobox in the middle of the desert. Xi'an had led them and another mutant named Junkpile to the Driver in hopes of finding Avalon. What they found instead was a solitary madman who was decompiling mutants into datafiles, in hopes of "resurrecting" them one day when mutant/human relations were smoother. It was a far cry from what they had expected.***

*** X-men 2099 (regular series) #13

This one was an exact duplicate, or as exact as he remembered. It seemed shoddier somehow, there were scratches and small scorch marks on the machinery.

"I wouldn't touch it, remember the last time we ran up against the Driver. He had his whole place booby-trapped," Luna noted. There didn't seem to be any at his new locale though, at least none they had spotted. They had been waiting for the Driver for a few hours now and as each minute passed, Luna itched to leave. They were sitting ducks in the underground chambers the Driver had made his home in. She was positive there was something they hadn't found. Something they had missed.

"I'm not going to. Just imagining how many slaughtered mutants he could have in there? How many lives turned into so much nothing? It's megatons of creepy just looking at this thing," Tim responded. Although he never took his eyes off the Accelerator, almost as if he was trying to sense what was inside it.

Luna crouched and sighed. "How long are we supposed to wait for this guy? How do we know he's even coming back?"

"He's coming back. He wouldn't leave this," Tim answered, motioning towards the Accelerator.

"Oh yeah? What if he's got another one squirreled away in another one of his hidey holes? Maybe he's transferring the data between them now. Shock, what if he has a whole NETWORK of these things?"

Tim was speechless. He didn't want to imagine a web of Accelerators criss-crossing the globe. Literally thousands of mutants sacrificed on the Driver's technological altar. "I doubt it, Luna," he said, half to reassure himself. "He needs a closed system for this kind of thing, or else someone could just...download...an army of reconstituted Bioshop zombie mutants. Or wipe his hardrive completely. I don't think he'd be that crazy."

"Yeah, he's only a certain level of crazy...," Luna muttered softly. She was getting antsy, she needed a break in this routine. She wanted to hit something. She was half-tempted to go back up into that weird room where they'd fought the X-men.***

***Last issue

Suddenly, they heard a loud whine echo down the hallway outside. A car powering down, the Driver had returned. Luna got back up and kept her eye on the door, the Driver wasn't going to find them unprepared. The whine got closer and softer.

With an almost lazy gentleness, the Nitroburn rolled into the room, passing through the thick metal door like a ghost. It came to a discrete stop near the door, the chasis flickering as the Nitroburn became solid once more. The windshield was opaque and betrayed no sign of activity from within. Tim powered up partially. Was the Driver in there? Worse, was anyone with him? Did that person know what the Driver had in store for them?

The Nitroburn door popped open with a soft hiss and the Driver stepped out. He was unchanged. His gold faceplate was intact, conveying no certain emotion. His clothes and white hair were un-mussed. He looked exactly as he had when they first met him. For some reason, that just made Tim madder.

"You escaped the Danger Room," the Driver said calmly. "I hadn't expected you to so quickly. The original X-men are a formidable adversaries in any time period."

"That's what you call it? 'Danger Room'?", Luna said. "It gave us a nice workout."

"That is the purpose it served for the original X-men. Ironically, it is perhaps the only physical evidence of them left, barring old holos," the Driver answered.

Tim pointed at the Driver threateningly, his fist glowing with crackling green energy. "You have some answers for us."

"I answer to no one save my own conscience," the Driver intoned. "Why have you come here? Why do you seek to disrupt me once more?"

"You stand here in front of THAT," Tim pointed to the Accelerator. "And ask us that question? It should be obvious why. What's to stop me and Luna from tearing this thing apart a second time?"

The Driver's face, what little showed, was condescending. "You do that, and you wipe out what little hope the mutants I had in the Accelerator have of life. You cost over two hundred mutants their lives."

"Don't try to pin this on us, old man," Tim said. "We're not the one who wiped them off the face of the Earth and stored them in a computer." Tim spat out the last word in disgust. The Driver was just as bad as a corp, robbing people of their lives whether they protested or not. All for the "greater good". Tim was all for human/mutant unification, but not at that cost.

"They would have remained safe if you had not sought me out for your petty struggles and greed!" The anger in the room was clear, the tension grew. "Do you think I'm completely heartless? I know what my own folly has wrought."

Luna was confused. "Then why are you still doing it? This doesn't make any shockin' sense."

"You are quick to assume." The Driver pointed at the computer. "That is the original Accelerator. It took me months to rebuild and reconfigure it."

Now Tim was confused. "But why? Unless..."

The Driver gestured wildly, he seemed fiercely determined. "I am going to retrieve the souls I consigned to limbo. There is a chance, a slim chance, that the data still exists."

"You're going to..."

The Driver stared off into space, his fists were clenched. "I am the Driver, I deliver mutants to the salvation they deserve. No matter how long the road."

*     *     *

It was all happening too fast for him to keep up with. He had come to the Alaska Complex to help Morphine Somers take down the Hellfire Club before they hit Halo City in force. The idea behind the whole undercover op was that both of them would practice full disclosure. To hold any information back would jeopardize their mission and both their lives.

Of course, he hadn't expected Morphine to fully obey that rule to the letter. But he had never expected this.

"I see. Interesting," Henri said calmly, introspectively. He wanted to hit something. He wanted to hit Morphine, preferably, but any member of the Hellfire's inner circle would do. His current companion, for example. But that wouldn't help his disguise as Christopher, Morphine's aide, at all.

"Morphine's stock is rising here, Christopher. Even I did not expect such ruthlessness," Jonathan Richards said to Henri as his servant laid out his clothes. They were in the steam room's antechamber, in the lower levels of the complex. Henri had journeyed down there to relax and loosen up after a workout and found Richards already lounging there.

The room itself was a moderately sized chamber with heat-reflective panels covering the walls, ceiling, and floor. Steam constantly emitted from the ankle-deep level of water that covered the floor. Once you stepped inside, you floated gently over it, an anti-grav field suspending anyone who entered. The idea was to just let yourself float as the heat surrounded you. It was immensely relaxing, like you were slowly melting in mid-air.

Richards' servant finished fitting a blazer over Richards' shoulders and stood over to the side. "You may leave now, Collingwood," Richards said to his servant dismissively, not even looking at him. The servant left quietly.

"I've learned that it is never wise to underestimate Morphine," Henri said, choking the sentence out, as he gathered his belongings. The statement was all too true.

Richards crooked a smile as he adjusted his clothing. "Indeed, who knew he operated on such levels of cunning? He's impressed many an inner circle member. Especially me." Henri had to try very hard to keep from grimacing. Jonathan Richards was the Black Bishop, a position close to Morphine's own standing as the Black Rook.

Richards was somewhat different from the usual corporate sharks that the Hellfire Club consisted of. Henri knew the bare facts of Richards' rise to become CEO and chief shareholder on SaturDyne Communications. He had started as a janitorial worker in their NYC hub office.

Having been orphaned when he was only four, Jonathan found himself the property of SaturDyne when the orphanage ran out of funds in which to operate. The orphanage had been fighting a long battle against SaturDyne for the land that the orphanage had claim to. SaturDyne wanted the lot for a low-cost manufacturing plant.

In a swift media coup, SaturDyne ground the orphanage down into the dust with piddling legal battles, then bought it all, lock stock and barrel. All under the pretense of saving the children, offering them a life where their financial needs would be met by the company. They were part of the SaturDyne family now.

This happened when Jonathan turned fifteen. Jonathan was assigned to his janitorial position. For a solid year, resentment and hatred brewed inside him. His life at the orphanage had not been easy, but it had been infinitely better than the servitude he was consigned to for the rest of this life.

Then his mutant powers emerged. He became a human antenna, receiving all sorts of electronic communications, hearing voices inside his head all day, every day. Quickly, Jonathan realized the advantage he had been given. Secret communiques were his to devour. Stock tips, dark secrets, insider information. All he needed to build his way to the top of SaturDyne.

With the information that constantly streamed through his mind, Jonathan played the market, creating a nest egg or himself. He quietly bought shares of SaturDyne under an assumed name. And when the time came, he revealed himself. He was the primary shareholder, and he intended to institute some sweeping changes to SaturDyne. For example, the ruling board was all terminated. Those foolish enough to fight back were blackmailed out. Jonathan had an unbeatable edge.

Jonathan was only nineteen when he was appointed CEO. He now owned the company that had owned him. Irony at its best.

Of course, the constant stream of voices and years trying to beat SaturDyne at its own game had left John more than a little unstable. Richards was twice as ruthless and four times as unpredictable as the people he had replaced. No one protested, though, as long SaturDyne continued to ride the wave of success that Richards had created. Long festering feelings of entitlement had come to the forefront in Jonathan.

And had never left. Richards was almost playfully cruel to those under his thumb. Henri had since learned to ignore it. That description fit almost all the members of the Inner Circle.

"It's understandable that he didn't tell you, I don't believe Shaw and Somers have revealed their little plan to anyone yet. I caught it on the old brain box when I got back today though," Richards smiled almost maniacally, tapping his head. "And I just HAD to tell someone."

"I can see why you couldn't keep it in. It's quite...astounding," Henri said. He headed for the exit, he didn't want to be around Richards. Or anyone. He had things to do. Like find Morphine. And ring his neck.

"In any case. Most likely this is what tomorrow's Inner Circle meeting is about." Richards' grin became wide, his eyes bulged. "I can't wait!"

Henri moved past Richards. "If you'll excuse me, sir. I have a meeting with Morphine shortly." It was a lie, but since most everything in the Alaskan Complex was, he didn't think Richards would notice.

Richards moved to the side. "Oh of course, of course. I'm sure you have a speech to help Somers with. Good day, Christopher."

"Good day," Henri muttered as he tried to keep from storming from the antechamber. He had to find some way to contact Bloodhawk now. He doubted this would wait until their appointed weekly meeting. Morphine had definitely turned. Henri glanecd at the opulent walls of the hallway. It was like he was caught in a Venus fly trap. The stickly sweet venom of the Hellfire Club keeping him sedate while they devoured him. And by the time he had realized what had happened, it would be too late to escape.

Henri didn't want to think he had walked into a trap, but the evidence was too damning to discount. Morphine had been dutiful in keeping his promise to Shaw and the Hellfire Club. He was delivering Halo City to them on a golden platter, and he wasn't wasting any time doing it.

It had all begun with the battle over the Messiah. Morphine had been scheming even then. Causing an uproar among the populace of Halo, precipitating a battle that tore a hole in the city and destroyed the morale of the citizens. Morphine knew the city would have trouble repairing the damage.

But that wasn't enough. He had Shaw send mutants to wreck the two heaviest economic areas of Halo: the Market District and the Haloplex Mall. Further crippling the city to the point where the Hellfire's Club offer to bring a large source of income to the city simply could not be refused. One of many footholds into Halo City that the Hellfire Club intended to make.

And still it went on. If the mutant attackers sent to Halo City didn't outright kill an X-man, or the X-Men, then they were at least bloodied and made weary. An easy target. The damage done and the lives lost in the battles creating a rift between Halo's citizens and their protectors.

A rift blown open with sudden riots, seemingly caused by an X-man. They were already protesting against the X-men in Halo. And it wasn't over. Soon Morphine and Shaw would tighten the web they weaved around Halo, and the X-men would be caught in the middle. Utterly obliterated by the forces arrayed against it. And if they lived, their reputation as a force for peace forever tarnished.

In the Hellfire Club would swoop to clean up the damage and give the citizens a sense of security and peace. And when it was all over? The Hellfire Club would have a city full of mutants at their disposal, with Morphine Somers at the helm and the X-men nothing more than a memory.

The whole plan left a bitter taste in his mouth. He had to get out of there. He was sure Morphine had his own sinister plan for him. How better to cement his position within the Inner Circle, and prove his cunning, then to expose Henri before them? An X-man duped into walking right into their hands. Morphine would have the Inner Circle's utmost respect and awe. And after that? Well, Henri was sure Morphine had plans for the Hellfire Club as well.

But Richards had given him an edge. He knew now. Their meeting was tomorrow, he had time he wasn't supposed to have. Perhaps it was coincidence, perhaps it was just another trap. Whatever it was, Henri had to get out of there. He had to get back to Halo and warn the X-men.

*     *     *

"I'm not buying it, Driver," Tim said. "If your quest was as noble as you're claiming, why do you still have that chair?" Tim jerked a thumb in the direction of a large metal chair behind him. Originally, the Driver had used it to restrain mutants while the Accelerator destroyed their physical bodies.

"Rebuilding the Accelerator requires testing," the Driver replied. "All programs must be working flawlessly. Especially the decompilation chair. Only then would I feel safe enough to begin retrieving the mutants I lost."

"So you HAVE been up to your old tricks," Tim accused.

The Driver remained cool and collected. "Partially, yes. Once I had the Accelerator up and running, I sought out mutants. I had to be certain all aspects of the computer would function for the Day of Reformation. However, my search was for mutants who were already deceased. I did not wish to sacrifice lives for a simple test."

The Driver had been digging up graves? Hauling dead mutants around? Curiosity overcame Tim for a moment, he glanced back at the chair. "Does it work?"

"Yes."

"This inquisition is very interesting, but it's not why we're here," Luna spoke up. So the Driver was going to fix his mistake, bring back all those mutants. Wonderful. Fabulous. She hoped he succeeded. But it seemed as if Tim was stalling with the righteous vengeance and morality trip he was laying on the Driver.

"Luna's right. We didn't seek you out to start a fight," Tim responded.

The Driver grunted. He was walking around the room, seemingly checking to see if anything had been moved or fiddled with. "You want Avalon," he said succinctly, not even looking at either of them. He seemed to have relaxed.

"We need you to take us there," Tim said.

"You? A Norn and her unruly mutant paramour? How could you possibly expect Avalon to open its gates for the likes of you?"

"It's not for us," Tim said calmly. He knew he would not be able to force the Driver to give them what they wanted. Tim powered down, hoping the Driver would take it as a sign of rationale. "I have to see Avalon. I have to learn what keeps it together."

The Driver stopped in front of the Accelerator and faced Tim. "Decades ago, I ferried mutants from camps where they were treated worse than animals. I doubt anything in the world could compare with the hatred of those dark times. The people we freed deserved Avalon. They had paid for it in tears and blood. Those with no hope left were given paradise. You have your own paradise, Fitzgerald, a city with which you can mold and shape to your desire. And yet you stand here and demand passage to Avalon? You should have known you would be refused before you even began."

Tim walked up to the Driver, meeting him face to face. "It's because of that city that I'm here, Driver. Things are getting out of hand there. Mutants are fighting among themselves. There are riots, murders, battles where entire city blocks are demolished. As leader of the X-men, I owe it to the citizens of Halo to seek out the solutions to those problems. They deserve a safe home."

Luna sat down against the wall and watched Tim and the Driver argue. Those two would probably go on for a while, she figured. She leaned her head back and let her gaze go wherever it chose. She stared at the Accelerator behind the Driver, thinking back to their original confrontation. It had been confusing, to say the least. The Driver frantically fending off Xi'an. Junkpile wounded and screaming on the floor, chunks of metal hurling through the air. Brimstone Love sauntering towards her and Tim, his eyes full of fire. Her backing away, cowering, feeling all the hope drain out of her as she stared at Brimstone. She knew Tim would not be able to stop him. And yet she had hoped, maybe...perhaps...

She remembered that moment well. Frankly, she remembered any moment with Brimstone with total clearness. She was certain he was the devil given flesh. And she was not his daughter, no matter what he said. There was no possible way she could have come from something like THAT.

"And I am supposed to believe in your sudden nobility?", the Driver asked Tim. "The last time we met you broke into my garage, enlisted as a bounty hunter for her..." The Driver pointed at Luna, she scowled back at him. "Simply for physical attraction."

"Read the newscasts if you like," Tim said in all seriousness. "I'm in over my head with Halo. The city is something that has never been tried before. It's something good, and I'd like to see it last well past the day I die. But there's no frame of reference for me from which to draw experience in running a community of mutants and humans."

"Then I pity the residents of Halo City, for the hope you have given them and protection you have never provided," the Driver said bitterly.

Luna saw what the Driver was playing at. "Trying to turn the tables on us? Paint us as the ones who are the real monsters?" Luna smiled wickedly. "It doesn't work that way, Driver. Tim, the X-men, they're trying. Really trying to make the world a better place. A world where mutants don't have to depend on being transcripted into a machine and ressurected some other day for the peace they deserve. And now Tim comes to you, the only person he knows who can help create this better world, and you deny him. I've done some monstrous things, Driver, but you have me beat."

The Driver grimaced. "A nice speech, but taking the word of someone who was raised in the Theater of Pain is suicidal, at best."

"She's right, you know. This isn't about making a better world for mutantkind. It's about you," Tim said.

The Driver was affronted. "I beg your pardon?"

"You're conflicted," Tim said. "You blame us and yourself for what you did. You had your doubts, staggering doubts, about whether gathering mutants and processing them into the Accelerator was right. Over time they dulled, but they were always there, weren't they?"

The Driver said nothing, Tim continued. "Then we appeared and destroyed the machines. But not the lives of the mutants in the Accelerator. You had already done that long ago, and you knew it. But you blamed us, because it was easier, because you could keep on living with yourself if you did. Almost subconsciously, you began to work to ressurect those lives, grabbing at any straw. Searching for absolution. And then we come along again, the same people who had done this to you. Only this time we've built a city where everyone, regardless of race, creed, economic status, sexual preference or genetic difference is invited to leave in peace and without discrimination. We had done in mere months what you had strived for your entire life. And that only made things worse."

"And now all this resentment has come to the surface. Our city is failing and we need your help," Tim continued. "To you it's karmic justice, and you want to savor every moment of it. You're letting these harbored emotions and feelings get in the way of your life's work."

The Driver was quiet. "I suppose...in some ways you are correct. But you also forget your place. You want Avalon. Someone who, in my eyes, is nothing but a young upstart. It is like a child demanding he be given the world."

"Look," Luna spoke up. "Resentment or not, it's not like either of us are the bad guys here. We have the same goal."

"We both need each others help, Driver," Tim said. "Suppose you find the lost data. Do you have the resources to ressurect over two hundred mutants? Where would they go if you did? Halo City is the only choice for them. But we need your help. We have to go to Avalon and see how mutants can live peaceably with each other so we can apply that to Halo. Like it or not, Driver, we're already partners."

The Driver sighed. What Fitzgerald was saying was a fairy tale to him. And yet...it seemed like it could come true easily. And it wasn't as if they wanted to use Avalon as a power base. Both their intentions were noble, but each party had something the other needed. He did not want to trust them, not after what they had done. But if he didn't put aside his own conflicts, he was damning any chance the lost mutants AND Halo City had of ever surviving.

"Very well. I will take you to Avalon," the Driver finally said.

Tim whooped with joy. "Alright!"

"It is not as easy as you may think, however," the Driver continued. "Avalon has been closed for decades. Its gates were closed shortly after the Purge."

"But surely you have some pull with whomever's in charge in Avalon," Tim said.

"Yes. Before passage to Avalon was forever cut, I was offered a final rite into Avalon. Reward for my work in saving and delivering mutants there. When my journeys in life were done, I had but to send word through the proper channels. Avalon would be opened to me only once, the intent being that I would live out the rest of my days within its safe confines."

"Great! And we can tag along?", Tim asked excitedly.

"I doubt Avalon would bar me from bringing two last mutants to deliverance there," the Driver responded.

"Fantastic. So let's get going," Tim said as he started towards the door.

"First we must travel to El Paso," the Driver stated.

Luna stood up and brushed the dust from her uniform. "Avalon is in El Paso?!", she asked, puzzled.

"No. But we have work to do before the journey to Avalon. El Paso is where the lost data may be."

"Why there?", Tim asked.

"Before you and your companions arrived, I was warned of your intentions by a cyberspace entity calling herself 'Broken Haiku'***. She and she alone has been the only one who has ever broken into the closed link of the Accelerator," the Driver replied.

***X-Men 2099 (regular series) #11 (I think)

"I remember her. She's the woman Xi'an went to see to track you down. She used to be one of the Lawless," Tim stated.

"Yes. Now she is one of the most preeminent cyberspace gliders and freelance information brokers."

"And considering the circumstances, you're betting she scoped your operation before she contacted you and copied the data from the Accelerator, knowing you'd eventually lose it," Luna said.

"That is my hope," the Driver responded.

A grin peeked through the corners of Tim's mouth. "Then let's get to El Paso. We've got some resurrecting to do."

*     *     *

Henri hastily threw the few belongings he had brought with him into the duffel bag. His hands were a blur as he worked. He no longer had to hide his powers now that he was leaving. It felt good, really good, to be himself again. He had loathed having to hide his genetic gift. Having to go at the speed and pace of a normal human. The Hellfire Club wasn't supposed to know about Henri's super-speed, Morphine had lectured to him when they first arrived. That way, if anything ever went wrong, they would have an edge.

It was that edge he was depending upon now. He was outta here. Away from the cold. Away from the treachery and deceit. Away from the lies. Away from Morphine flamin' Somers. He couldn't wait to get back to Halo City. He had to warn them all. They had to fortify the city's defenses, flush out Shaw's agents. They were going to need all the tactical info he could bring. It would be good to see them all again. He couldn't wait to catch up on everything with Krys. That was one of the drawbacks of having super-speed. His patience suffered.

Behind him, the computer console beeped twice. Transfer was complete, the computer spoke. Henri swiveled around and grabbed the chip that slid out of the computer drive. He popped it back in again, his fingers flying over the keyboard. Quickly, the computer duplicated the chip. Henri grabbed both chips when they slid out.

The chips were his most precious cargo. They contained all the information on the Hellfire Club and its activities that he had managed to dig up, find, steal, and hack out of the Hellfire's database. Some key information was still missing. The Inner Circle's powers, for one. He still didn't know what abilities Martin Rentaro had, and how they were somehow powerful enough to hold his gravity-wielding son Gavin in fear.

Henri grabbed a dark blue jumpsuit from the chair and began to slip it on. The jumpsuit was made of UMF, Unstable Molecule Fabric, and was specially designed to regulate internal body heat. It was also the best body armor he had at the moment. He was going to need it for the run to Anchorage.

As soon as the suit was on, he threw open the closet and rifled through the clothing. Most of it was ceremonial vestment that had already been there before Henri occupied the room. Useless and ugly besides. The clothes flew to the other side of the room in a flurry. Where was that bodysuit and parka? There they were, way in the back. He yanked them out and slammed the closet door shut.

The door chime sounded as he zipped up the parka and threw the hood back. Shock. Shock shock shock. Who was that at the door? Morphine? If so, it wasn't going to be a problem. He'd lay the creep out before he could blink. It wasn't servants, they did not come unless called. He had to think up a cover story quickly in case it was one of the other Inner Circle members. Perhaps Aloria?

Henri slipped the chips into his pocket, plus an extra blank one, switched the computer off, and headed for the door calmly. The Hellfire Club would find out what he had done to their database sooner or later. He would keep the empty chip on him as a decoy. Meanwhile, once he got to Anchorage he'd express one of them straight to Halo, while giving Bloodhawk the other one. Henri wasn't taking any chances. If they got him, at least the X-men would be prepared.

Henri punched in the unlock code and the door slid open. Martin Rentaro stood before him, looking impeccable in a smooth black suit, buttoned up to his neck. His face was stony and passive, yet his eyes were sharp and full. He looked like he was about to kill someone, more so, actually.

Henri's mouth fell open as Rentaro leveled him with his gaze. He regained his composure quickly, letting the tension in him build. Martin Rentaro was here for a reason, and Henri couldn't imagine it being anything good.

"May I enter, Christopher?", Rentaro said in a voice as hard as rock. Henri took some comfort in Rentaro's pleasantry, he had expected something more...violent.

"Yes, yes," Henri said, trying to not let his voice quiver. "To what am I owing the honor of the White King's presence in my quarters?"

Rentaro eyed the duffel bag on the chair. "Leaving, Christopher?"

Henri remained casual, it was the only way he would be able to convince Rentaro of anything. "Yes, actually. Morphine has business in Asia. We are taking a car out shortly to the airport."

Rentaro looked Henri up and down. "You are dressed quite warmly."

Henri nodded. "It is cold out, sir."

Rentaro said nothing, the silence between Henri and him seemed to grow into an enormous chasm. What was Rentaro thinking? He was quite confident, then again, he was always confident. What was his mutant power? Did he cancel out other mutant's powers? Was that how he held control over his son?

Finally, Rentaro spoke up. "As Morphine Somers' aide, you would be privy to his comings and goings? His plans and so on?"

Was that what he wanted? Information on Morphine? Was Rentaro's intimidating stance merely a front to make sure Henri was too nervous to lie? "Assumably so, sir. Although I am not with him even most of the day. I have no knowledge of whatever he may keep from me, if he is indeed doing so."

"He does not discuss his business with you? What are you here for, then? Would not Morphine's aide be assisting him in that?"

"Indeed he does, sir. However, the inner dealings and business of the Hellfire Club rarely comes up. I was under the impression that Inner Circle business was just that: Inner Circle business," Henri answered, keeping his tone strictly formal. If Rentaro could cancel his powers, then he'd have to find a more physical way of dispatching him. Henri tried to scout the room subtly, looking for anything he could use as a weapon. There was pitifully little.

"But, as his aide, you would know the company he keeps, wouldn't you?", Rentaro asked.

"Somewhat. As I said before, I am not attending him every part of the day. If anything, it seems Morphine has found less and less use for me since arriving here." There, maybe that would halt Rentaro's interrogation.

"You are a liar," Rentaro said, his voice cold and deadly. Rentaro strolled up to Henri, his hands in the pockets of his jacket. Henri tried to back away from him...but couldn't. He couldn't move an inch. He was locked in place.

Rentaro's face was close, he looked straight into Henri's eyes. "Morphine Somers is a snake. He should have never been admitted into the Inner Circle. He will bring nothing but discord to our organization."

"Sir...," Henri struggled.

"I KNOW you both are plotting against me. Morphine wishes to usurp my position in the Inner Circle. That will not happen. I have faced larger threats than that slime before, and buried them all."

"I don't know what you're talking about...," Henri said. Was Rentaro a telekinetic? Or did he have the same gravity-wielding powers as his son?

"You do. You are a liar. And not a very good one, at that. Was it you who was supposed to be my assassin? Was it you who would plant the evidence? Was it you who would bring the accusations to the table? I know you have been trying to coerce my son into something..."

Rentaro's face was angry as he took his right hand out of his pocket. He was clutching a small laser pistol. Rentaro leveled it at Henri's head. Henri's mouth fell open, his eyes going wide. It was mere inches from his face. He could see the energy crackling inside the barrel.

"No...," Henri said weakly.

"I am going to send Morphine a message," Rentaro said icily. "One I'm sure he will understand with perfect clarity."

Before Henri could respond, Rentaro pressed the trigger. The flash filled his vision.

Then there was nothing.

*     *     *

In the southwestern deserts of America, there lies a sprawling city enclosed by miles and miles of sand. It is the lights you see on the horizon after hours on the desolate highway. It is the oasis at end of your journey. It is the ONLY city in the western wastes of Texas. And in this part of America it's all you're going to get.

The Nitroburn slid quietly into the garage of the "Burning Sands" Hotel del Plaza, its molecules passing through the permacrete wall with a soft buzz. The chassis showed no sign of the journey that had just been made. No sand coating the exterior, no scratches or dents. It was unnatural, but the Nitroburn always looked like that.

The car shimmered briefly, solidifying as the Driver parked it in an empty space. With any luck, the valets would not notice the intrusion. And if they did, well, he prayed for anyone who tried to remove his vehicle.

The Nitroburn's hood popped open and and Tim immediately jumped out, his face was full of excitement. "That was the most...shockin' INSANE ride I have ever had. I'm still trying to process even half the things I saw."

"The sensation is jarring for many of my passengers," the Driver commented politely. He was still uncertain of this...alliance...with him and these new X-men. He kept his doubts quiet, though, he had much to gain from the partnership. If he could ignore their barbaric attitudes.

"I'll say. Who knew there was still so much forest left in the east?", Tim exclaimed. It had been one hell of a ride down to El Paso. The Driver had insisted they take the Nitroburn. Not only was his mind linked to it, but it could reach speeds that the cruiser Luna and Tim had taken from Halo could never hope to match. Now Tim knew why. He supposed it was ironic for someone named "The Driver" to have so little use for established roads.

Slowly, Luna climbed out of the Nitroburn as well. "Oh, it feels weird being solid again." Luna's legs seemed to wobble as she grabbed the Nitroburn to steady herself. "How do you get used to this? I don't think the human body was meant to phase in and out of molecular cohesions."

Tim's face was almost boyish with excitement. "It's not supposed to, really. I read this article once about these tests that were made. Turns out that if you do that kind of thing on a chronic basis then you start to lose your sani...," Tim stopped abruptly, catching the Driver's solemn gaze. Their partnership was tenuous at best, better that both he and Luna walk on eggshells around him. At least for a little while. "Err, present company excepted, of course."

The Driver bounded out of the Nitroburn and closed the hatch. "Do not pander to me, Fitzgerald. I am well aware of your opinion on my mental state." Indeed he was, and more than once lately, he shared it.

"Right, well, we should find some lodgings. I dunno about you, Driver, but I could go for a nap or two...or three," Tim replied.

"Very well. I assume you are paying?", the Driver said as the three of them made for the garage lift.

"My credit's good," Tim smiled as he twirled a small transparent card between his fingers. "...for once," he muttered under his breath.

"Best not flash that around too much, lover," Luna said. "Throwing around Halo cred is bound to upset someone sooner or later."

Tim looked back at Luna as she trailed behind. "Afraid I can't handle the big scary world now that I've tasted the fruits of Halo City?", he taunted.

Luna's smirk was almost seductory. "I'm not afraid of anything."

The lift doors opened as the Driver stepped in the elevator, ignoring Tim and Luna's banter. The future of mutantkind was in the hands of these hormone-charged children? He kept silent as they joined him in the elevator, arm in arm. They were an odd couple, he did not understand the attraction between the two. Then again, he did not understand much of the world around him. Nor did he care to. "Lobby," he ordered. The lift doors closed and the elevator rose.

The lobby of the hotel was surprisingly clean and empty for such a large structure. The hotel building itself was several stories high and was built mostly of old granite. An android was stationed at the check-in desk, perfectly motionless, most likely in stand-by mode compiling all sorts of pleasantries for them as it waited for them to approach the desk.

"Good evening ma'am and sirs," the android's polite tone echoed. Outside, the desert sky was dotted with stars, the lights of the city blotting out all but the brightest. "What do you wish?"

"We're checking in, party of three, Fitzgerald," Tim said as he held out his plasti-cred card. The android extended a scanning device for it. Tim ran it through, it took a nanosecond to process.

The android smiled, they had passed the money test... "Do you require extended lodgings or by the hour? We have a variety of services and residential plans to offer. Would you like to hear a list of them for your convenience?"

"Not now, bot," Tim said. "Give us top floor accomodations, two rooms, medium level security, fully equipped bath stations and amenities."

"Tim...," Luna spoke up.

He turned and smiled. "Relax, this one's on Halo."

"Excellent choice, madam, sirs," the android said as three small chips clattered down into a tray behind the android. The bot swiveled quickly and gave them to the three. "Key cards, tap them twice to save your prints. You may request additional key cards if needed. Your accomodations are on floor seven, rooms 708 and 709. When you check out simply deposit the cards in the courier slot in your room. Theft of the key cards is a criminal offense and the hotel has the right to fully prosecute..."

"Yeah, we get it. Thanks," Luna said, scooping up the key cards and walking off. Tim and the Driver joined her. The android kept talking, its voice growing louder the further they got.

"There will be a copy of hotel rules and procedures in each of your ROOMS. IF YOU HAVE ANY COMPLAINTS OR SPECIFIC NEEDS, PLEASE CONTACT THE FRONT DESK. ENJOY YOUR STAY!"

*     *     *

Tim awoke to a loud crash from the next room. They had all turned in early tonight, eager to put the weariness of the road behind them. It seemed like either of them had not had much chance to truly rest in a long while. With all the troubles in Halo City, the riots, random mutant attacks, the murders, Desdemona Synge, fighting the original X-men holos the Driver had sicced on them...it had all been one fight, one crisis, one compromise after another. They all needed a good night's rest, who knew what tomorrow's answers would bring?

Luna hadn't protested at all. No sooner had her bag landed on the bed then she sealed herself in the bathroom and turned the steam jets on high. He had offered to join her, but she had pushed him away half-heartedly. Not now, sweet thing, she was just too tired.

He supposed she would be after all the fighting, the waiting, and the journey. He was feeling a few aches here and there himself, but he still had a night on the town left in him yet. Maybe it was his mutant physiology. Maybe he was able to manipulate the energy he absorbed in more ways than one.

Tim jumped out of bed immediately, tossing the covers aside. Luna wasn't in the room. That sound had come from the accomodations next to theirs. What did Luna want with their neighbors?

Tim keyed open the door to his room and looked down the hallway. The door to the Driver's room was still sealed. Tim bet he didn't even hear the crash. He swiveled his head to look down the other side of the hallway.

The door to the next room was in pieces on the floor. The door's supports and frame hung limply from the wall. Shards of the door itself littered the floor. Tim's eyes widened. Those things were a mixture of plastic, titanium, and iron. They were supposed to take a hit from a rocket and keep smiling. Did Luna do this? Where was she?

Still in his boxers, Tim stepped cautiously into the dark room. "Hello? Is anyone hurt?", he called out. Briefly, he considered using his power to see in energy spectrums again. He could make out if anyone was hiding very easily that way. Or the presence of any explosives. It dawned on Tim that the situation could be much deadlier than he thought.

He heard a soft whimpering coming from inside. "Illumination to full," he said. All the lights in the room came on. But what they revealed left his mouth hanging open.

Luna was on her knees in the middle of the floor, three of the hotel security guards unconscious...maybe even dead...around her. She held her hands out in front of her, staring at them as if she had burned them. On the bed were two prone bodies...a very young blonde and an old man. Luna had attacked a businessman and his prostitute?

"Luna...," Tim started.

She looked at him with tears in her eyes, her expression was pleading. "Please Tim...it wasn't me."

Suddenly he became aware of a loud scuffling in the hallway. Boots were clomping towards the room. He began to power up...

Three more hotel security guards popped in the doorway. Upon spying Luna and Tim, they immediately drew their firearms. One of the security guards took point.

"Freeze! Both of you! Down on the ground!", he yelled.

Luna kept muttering, shaking her head back and forth. "It wasn't me...it wasn't me..."

Next Issue: So...was it her? Be here for the next issue, when the Driver finds his answers, Tim finds a mystery, and the X-men return to a city that...hates and fears them?
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The 2099 UnderGround is a project whereby a group of fans are putting together continuing stories based on Marvel's fantastic futuristic 2099!

Ignoring the ignoble and inaccurate 2099: WoT, we're exploring what we feel is the true spirit of 2099 as envisioned by then Editor in Chief Joey Cavalieri. Participation is open to all. For more information, visit the Ghostworks at http://www.oocities.org/ug2099.

We love getting letters and feedback. Questions/comments/hurrahs/etc. should be sent to the author (linus4000@yahoo.com). Or you can visit the message board at www.comicboards.com/2099ug.