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| X-men 2099UG Issue #7, Volume 2 Written by Chris Lough |
| The 2099 Underground is a project whereby a group of fans are putting together a series of stories continuing from Marvel's fantastic futuristic 2099! Ignoring the ignoble and inaccurate "2099: World of Tomorrow", 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. Comments about this issue should be sent to the author. Or you can visit our message board and post your thoughts on the issue. Anyone wishing to join the mailing list should do so by signing up at Yahoo! Groups. It's free and easy! Simply type in the keyword "Ghostworks" and you're good to go. |
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| It was like an enormous muscle inside her head. It never stopped moving, this thing, this unmistakable and unrelenting mass of power inside her. It rolled and shifted and constantly pushed against its surroundings, flexing and expanding outward and inward. She knew it was dangerous, that if it was ever allowed to escape and run unchecked, that it would devour everything that it came upon. It was a daily struggle to keep it chained up inside her, not just because of the strain of the effort, but of the temptation. It was seductive, this power inside her, it felt like a bottomless well. There was warmth and happiness in there, and all she wanted to do was dive in and surround herself with it forever and ever. For Rachel Winters, that was never going to happen. According to her friend Shakti, she may indeed be the most powerful telepath ever to be born since the Heroic Age. Rachel didn't know whether to laugh or cry when she thought about that. Blessed with the ability to touch all the people of the world. Cursed with the dire need to keep it locked away, lest it destroy those same people. Rachel knew she would never be able to revel in the full usage of her telepathic powers. And never was such a long time... Rachel pushed the thoughts from her mind, dwelling on such things would only depress her. And she needed to stay cheerful for Shakti. Her friend, her only friend, was laying in a hospital bed next to her. Monitors bleeped quietly over the bed and an intravenous line was attached to Shakti's arm. Shakti's green uniform hung on a peg inside the coat closet nearby. The curtains were drawn back from the large two-paned window, revealing the clear, starry, desert night sky beyond the haze of the lights from the city below. "Shakti, you really need to get some rest. The doctor said that you should try to settle yourself back into your normal sleeping pattern," Rachel coaxed Shakti, sitting beside her and patting her hand gently. It was two in the morning and Shakti was up and alert after slipping in and out of consciousness for two days. She had been throwing up and could only keep down water. At times she had a roaring fever and then her temperature would just drop off. The doctors told Rachel that Shakti's body was just in shock, and that it would heal itself eventually. She just needed rest and observation. "I don't feel like resting anymore, Rachel...," Shakti announced softly. "I'm just not tired after all that sleeping...my throat burns a little..." "You want me to get you something to drink, Shakti?", Krystalin asked, sitting in a chair by the window. Krystalin and the other X-men had brought Shakti to the hospital after - whatever happened - Rachel couldn't get a straight answer out of them. They visited every day to check on her. Right now only Skullfire and Krystalin were with her. Skullfire had been there all along, he rarely left, telling Rachel that he felt somewhat responsible for her condition. There was more than concern in his tone, though, but Rachel didn't dare risk probing his mind to find out what. "Yes dear, I think Shakti can take some water," Rachel answered. Shakti nodded affirmatively and Krystalin walked out of the room. "Do you think you can keep some down?" "I'm feeling a little better. I have some energy back," Shakti spoke, trying to sit up. She abandoned the effort halfway and flumped back down onto the bed again. "Then again, maybe I really should get some more sleep." Closing her eyes, she put a hand on her forehead and moaned slightly. "Tim," she said suddenly. "Tim's here." "He's asleep right now on the fold-out over there," Rachel told her. "And Krys...she's coming back this way. Water for me and tea for herself, she's trying not to spill it," Shakti continued. "How did I know that?" Rachel had no answer for her, so Shakti kept on. "My powers are...over-sensitive." She looked up at Rachel. "What happened?" "I'm not sure myself, dear, Timothy's description of what happened was somewhat...erratic. He said a hole opened up in space?" "Yes...I think so. Something like that. I can't remember it all that well. There was the hole opening and then there was just...confusion, and then pain. Like someone had dug a spike through my head and just kept twisting and twisting it." "You smacked your head when you fainted," Rachel informed her. "But they did some scans and it doesn't look like any permanent damage was done." Shakti smiled faintly. "That's good to know. Have you been here all this time?" Rachel nodded. "I came as soon as I heard. The other X-men have been in and out. Ten Eagles and one of the Sister's from the school brought the X-Nation kids earlier today. That blond one who dresses like a tramp almost knocked over a monitor." Shakti laughed weakly. "She's a good kid, Rachel. They're all good kids. Even if they don't pay attention in class." Shakti paused. "Tim's agitated." A muffled mumbling came from Tim on the fold-out. He was moving beneath the blanket and the unrestive mumbling and grunting became louder. Abruptly, he twisted completely around to the other side and slid off the bed. He awoke immediately with a quiet remark of surprise and sat up. To Shakti's right, the door outside opened and in walked Krystalin with the beverages. "Having trouble, Tim?" Krystalin asked as Tim got on his feet and stretched, shaking his head to clear it. "I think I would, too, those things are awfully cramped." "Naw, it's just," Tim yawned. "Bad dreams." His eyes widened a little as he noticed Shakti awake. "Hey, you're up," he paused. "You're not going to be sick again, are you? It's my turn to hold your hair back." "Bad dreams?", Shakti asked. "You seemed quite agitated. Enough to wake yourself up, at least. Does that happen often?" "It happens every night when you're someone like me," Tim smirked. "I dreamt Desdemona Synge had taken over the X-men and made me her secretary. In the dream, everything was made of paperwork." Tim shivered. Krystalin handed the cup of water to Shakti. "See if you can keep this down." Shakti took the cup and took some careful sips. "It's not as bad as before, my stomach that is. How long have you been up, Krystalin?", Shakti asked. "Not that long. I've been here since noon. Victor stayed for a while tonight and brought us all some food. Do you remember what happened to you, Shakti?" "Do you think you feel well enough for a few questions?", Tim asked. "Right now I have more questions than answers, myself, but you may as well ask while I'm awake," Shakti drank some more water and heard her stomach rumble. "Do you think I could get something to eat? Maybe some noodles?" Krystalin sent away for the food while Tim took a chair and sat down next to Shakti opposite Rachel. "Hey Shakti, I just want to say that I'm sorry about getting you into this." "Don't be absurd, Tim. You could not have foreseen what we encountered." "I should have gone first though, it's my responsibility as team leader..." "Have you forgotten, Tim? I'm not in the Protectorate." "You're still an X-man, Shakti. I don't think anything could change my mind about that. You were the one who found me in that pitstop all that long ago," Tim said, although in truth, it had only been a little more than a year since Shakti had given him that card with the X on it. It seemed like years, so much had happened, and everything was different. If he had been told a year ago what he would become, he would have told you to lay off the Caf-Concentrate and walked off to find a quieter spot. "Your apology is accepted, in any case," Shakti said, not eager to get into an argument over Tim's mispaced guilt. "What questions do you have? Since you were there as well." "What happened, Shakti? Why'd you collapse? Do you know why you were the only one who felt anything other than the vacuum?" Shakti nodded and told Tim about the confusion, about the pain, the pain that had struck so suddenly and had kept building until everything just went black. "It was like something had come out of that hole when it opened," she added. "Something telepathic, attuned to telepathics most specifically, or otherwise I would have been affected," Tim stated. "Most likely," Shakti answered him. "This is coming together, I think. Shakti, I checked up on the person that was murdered that night when we went to investigate. It turns out he was a mutant, a low-level empath," Tim told her, his voice serious and clear despite his obvious weariness. "You think the murderer or murderers is targeting telepaths? It might be that the murderer attacked us to prevent us from discovering his handiwork too early. Or perhaps to kill us as well. Leave no witnesses." "Maybe. But since the connection was tenuous as it was, I had autopsies done on the other victims." "You what?", Shakti sat up in bed, and immediately regretted it. "Shakti, please, don't over-exert yourself," Rachel said, turning back to Tim. She was suddenly becoming very interested in this investigation. "Tim, that's a little extreme for this investigation...," Shakti said. "I know, but I do have the jurisdiction to do so, even if it is going over the Guardian's heads." "...and that's another thing," Shakti continued. "Going over the Guardians' head again so soon after the riot at the Negative Zone is...it's idiocy. The two peace-keeping forces in this city have to work together or we're going to have big problems." "I know, Shakti, I know...but I just had to know if my hunch was correct. So I had the autopsies done." "What did you find?", Rachel asked. "The other victims were all mutants as well..." "All of them? Wouldn't Book have stumbled upon this rather easily, and informed us?", Shakti asked. "He didn't know, neither did we until the tests were done on the brain and DNA. They all had the X-factor gene, and telepathic potential. It's most likely that the people killed never knew they were mutants, or just chose to keep it hidden from records. For all of Book's knowledge, he can't find out something like that when even the people who are mutants don't even know. And he doesn't have the authority to order autopsies." "They must have been very low telepaths. People who always know what to get someone for Christmas, or someone who has uncanny luck at gambling," Rachel commented. "Yeah, very low power mutants," Tim answered. "So the murderer, or murderers for all we know, are targeting telepaths...," Shakti said, chewing her lip. "So it seems," Tim said gravely. He gave Rachel a level stare. "And I don't know how to stop it." * * * One day he was to going to run off in one of these snowstorms and just not come back. Someone will find a mutant icicle on the side of the road one day, and nomadic tribes will bring it back and worship it. Or thaw it out and eat it. Henri Huang, the mutant speedster known as Meanstreak shivered as he waited outside the borders of a small pitstop town in the Alaskan tundra. It was deep into the night and softly drifting blankets of snow fell from the greyish sky. Henri hated the snow. There were just so many reasons to. It was cold. It was hard to run in. It soaked your clothes. It was cold. It never stopped falling. It made landmarks almost impossible to make out. It was COLD. Although, Henri had to admit, his annoyance was probably a molehill compared to the frustration of the person he was meeting. Henri trembled in his woolen coat, maybe he could lap the town a few times to warm up. He might miss his contact, though, and his contact was not a very patient man. Or timely. He was a half an hour late. As if in response to Henri's thought, the sound of flapping leathery wings hit his ears. A gaunt figure, silhouetted in the night, whisked past him overhead. The figure circled back and slowed his approach, landing gracefully, his wings arced to buoy him gently down. "Evening, 'Hawk," Henri said to the heavily clothed figure in front of him. Bloodhawk merely grunted in reply, shifting in his parka, he drew back the mouthpiece protecting his lower face. "Anything new?", Bloodhawk asked in a voice that was seemingly made of gravel. "The Hellfire Club has decided to try more covert tactics in bringing down Halo. I only see Morphine now maybe once a day. He's getting into this Hellfire Club Inner Circle role-playing too much for my suspicions," Henri said. "It would not surprise me if Morphine has his own agenda," Bloodhawk responded. "Me neither. But why bring me along for it?" "Perhaps he means to sell you out," Bloodhawk said outright. Henri knew Bloodhawk was never one for mincing words, but even so, Henri bristled at the comment. "Perhaps," Henri said softly. "In any case, I haven't been able to figure out what they're up to. Maybe next week." Bloodhawk grunted again. "Then I shall meet you next week," he finished. Buttoning the mouthpiece back up and spreading his wings. Henri couldn't imagine how he navigated through the snowstorm, or how he did so without freezing. He assumed it had something to do with Bloodhawk's mutant physiology and left it at that. He at least had a warm room to go back to in Nome, that much he knew. Turning back to the lift car, Henri mulled on the situation. He was glad Bloodhawk had agreed to be his contact between Halo and Alaska. More than glad, downright happy, Bloodhawk was his lifeline should anything go wrong. Anything like Morphine betraying him to the Inner Circle. It was a possibility. It wasn't hard at all to imagine Morphine revealing "the traitor in their midst" to up his position in the Inner Circle. Not hard at all. * * * A lone figure dropped the binoculars as he watched the lift car speed off below him. It was headed back toward the Alaska Complex, he knew. But he would get there before it. He was right to trail this man, this newcomer Christopher. He didn't know what Morphine's aide was up to yet, but Gavin was sure his dad would have some ideas on how to stop it. He would be pleased with his son's work and ingenuity. Very pleased. * * * "Rachel?", inside Rachel's head, Shakti's voice relayed concern for her friend. "It's not fair," Rachel thought. "To be targeted just because...," Rachel let the sentence trail off. "I know, Rach," Shakti gave Rachel a look of understanding and squeezed her hand. "I know." Rachel didn't say anything in return, sitting there, staring into nothing. ""Shakti?", Tim asked, assuming that the silence between Rachel and Shakti was them speaking privately. He didn't want to intrude, especially since he had a good idea as to why Rachel suddenly looked beaten and afraid. But silence wasn't going to get them anywhere. "Do you have any ideas on how to combat, or detect this?" "I'm not sure what we can do, Tim. Look up every registered telepath in the city and lock them somewhere safe? Maybe expel them from the city for their own protection?", Shakti said, more out of frustration and hopelessness than anger. She didn't know what to do either. She hated being powerless. "The key here are telepaths, we at least know that," Krys said, keeping a calm composure. "The murderer wouldn't be going after them if a telepath couldn't detect him." "Unfortunately, no one's survived an attack long enough to get an impression of him," Tim added. "Except for me," Shakti said. "Except for you." "The sad part is, I don't know if I could track him. It's still all so confusing. Like a fuzzy spot in my memory." Shakti sighed. "And I don't know if I have the power to scan the entire city for him. What if he's not even in the city?" "We have to do something!", Tim burst out. "We've got the most powerful telepath in the city here, sitting right next to the second most powerful. And you're injured, Shakti, this room is the most tempting target the murderer has most likely ever had. What happens when he finds us?" Abruptly, Rachel pushed back her chair. "I think, Timothy, you're better off asking what's going to happen when I find him?" "What?", Shakti gasped, surprised. "I don't want to wait for the murderer," Rachel said, giving Shakti a solemn look. "I've lived my whole life in fear of my own powers." Rachel paused, her mouth set in a straight line. "But I'm not going to die in fear." Krystalin stood up and walked over to Rachel. "What are you going to do?" Rachel looked up at Krystalin for a moment, then back at Shakti. "Long ago, your friend Shakti taught me something. When I was struggling to understand and control the awesome abilities I had been given... She started with the basics. 'You are a telepath' she told me. 'You have the ability to traverse the theoretical plane of existence that links all our minds.'" "Rachel, you can't do this, you've never tried it before...," Shakti pleaded. "Do what?", Tim asked, confused. "The killer is on the Astral Plane. He has to be. It's the only thing that makes sense," Rachel answered, looking at Tim. "And if he wants to kill me, he's going to have to do it there." "Rachel, wait," Shakti said, grabbing Rachel's wrist. "Let me go with you. You don't know what's going to happen, you'll need help." "You are my closest friend, Shakti. But with all due respect, you don't know what's going to happen either. I'm not risking your life." Shakti's tone became harsh. "So you're going to sacrifice yourself instead?" "Perhaps. But I've lived long enough anyway, don't you think?" "No!" "That's unfortunate," Rachel said, closing her eyes and sitting back. Inside herself, she sensed the fluctuating mass of telepathic power pushing against the barriers Shakti had taught her to erect around it so long ago. Gingerly, carefully, she reached for the barrier, in her mind. Reached, and stuck a small part of herself through it. Immediately, her telepathic senses flared open wide. It was like a second sight. She could sense everyone in the room. She knew what they were doing, where they were, what they were thinking, everything. And she could know more, too, all she had to do was reach for one of them. But that was not her goal at the moment. Slowly and carefully, she immersed herself further into the white light that she knew was her...ability, her power. Gradually and carefully, she sunk deeper and deeper into it, keeping a careful watch on the self-made barrier that prevented her powers from exploding outward. She knew what she had to do, it was just that she had never done it before. Ever. She had to go in completely. Give herself up to the power, yet still maintain control. It would be...quite a challenge. "Shakti, what's she doing?", Tim asked. "Has she started? You have to follow her. I can't allow her to risk her life for us." "Neither can I, Tim," Shakti said, her face calm, but her eyes set in anger. "But she's blocked me completely. She means to go in alone and none of us can stop her." It was wonderful. It was glorious. She had never known how powerful she really could be. It seemed as though the entire world was opening up to her. Below her, above her, all around. The light grew brighter, but she gleefully dove onward. She could feel everyone, not just her friends, but everyone. She could touch their minds ever so slightly. It was almost too much, this sudden omniscience. But she kept a tight collar around her power, she could not let it overcome her. Although, for some reason, control over it seemed to be getting easier...simpler. "I can stop her," Tim said, getting up out of his chair. "We just have to wake her up." "Tim!", Krys yelled. "Tim don't! If you disturb her concentration now, she might lose control of her powers," Shakti warned. "It's either that, or we sit here and watch her die," Tim answered, his hands coming closer to Rachel. "Tim, I don't want to encase you in crystal, but I will," Krystalin warned, stepping up to him. "Krys, I...," abruptly, Tim froze. "What?", Krys asked. "I...can't move." Rachel was amazed at how easy it was. She had simply reached over to his mind and instantly it unfolded, like a Chinese puzzle box. She knew where everything was, and what it did, and how to do it herself. As if the knowledge was in the air, and all she had to do was breathe it in. It was simplicity itself to tell his brain to freeze motor control, and simple still to keep it that way. Her control over her power was, miraculously, still there. It seemed simpler now, as if she had become the power itself. But it was still a struggle in itself, the power still wanted to rip loose and spread itself. Rachel knew if she let that happen, she would lose herself. Her mind would leave her, and she would be trapped in her own body, paralyzed forever. Rachel didn't know how she knew that, but she did. Ahead of her was her goal, another white light, somehow shining brighter than herself. It was a gateway, she knew, it was the barrier between her own mind and the Astral Plane. All she had to do was step through. She didn't even have to step, actually. Rachel just concentrated on it, and the light became bigger and bigger until finally it enveloped her. Then suddenly, she was there. "How long is she going to take?", Tim asked, frozen there, half-bent over Rachel, his arms locked in mid-grab. "I don't know. Why?", Shakti asked. "Because I'm starting to cramp," Tim answered. Krystalin crossed her arms. "Serves you right." It stretched out forever, almost like cyberspace, she could feel every part of herself tingling with life and activity. Unlike cyberspace, though, she was in charge here. She was aware of everything around here. So much so that she had to block it out, lest it overcame her. There was so much here. So much potential, so much power, so much danger. All she had to do was think, and she would find what she needed. So could her opponent. She skimmed along the Astral Plane, seemingly covering great distances, yet also moving at a crawl. Abruptly, she remembered an old lesson that Shakti had taught her about mental defenses. Immediately, form-fitting armor sprang up around her. Rachel smiled, and suddenly her appearance shifted. She became younger, trimmer, fitter, and her hair was a beautiful flowing red once more. She could get to like the Astral Plane. She could get to like it very much. Suddenly, a flag went up in her mind. She had found what she was looking for. At least, she had found something. There was a disturbance rippling along the Astral Plane. She could feel it running through her. With a thought, she made towards it. It was a garish, crackling feeling. Like something was being ripped apart. She was upon it instantly. And that's when she saw it. "Ooph!", Tim went as he fell on the floor. Krys gave him a questioning look. "I guess she trusted me enough to release me," Tim said. "Was she right?", Krystalin asked. "Or is it up to me to restrain you?" Tim raised his hands to ward off Krystalin. "Hey! Hey! I learned my lesson! I did! Honest!" "I don't know," Shakti spoke up, staring ahead. "She's not blocking me anymore..." She looked over at Krystalin and Tim. "What if something's wrong?" A hole in space was open before her, and in front of it was a massive ephemereal presence. She didn't know how to describe it any other way. It wasn't human, it just was. It bristled with thought as it hovered there in front of the doorway in space. It was oozing eagerness, and there was something under that. An intense feeling of loneliness tinged with...hope? Abruptly, a scream pierced Rachel's mind. There was something being dragged through the hole in the Astral Plane. She couldn't really make it out through the maelstrom of energy and matter that was billowing around the hole. Whatever it was was being drawn toward the...entity. The hole closed and then she saw it. It was a human body. A wave of psychic power suddenly hit Rachel. At first she thought that the entity must have spotted her and was attacking, but then she realized what had happened. The wave was the entity trying to communicate. It was so rapid that she had been taken aback by it. The wave was so powerful that she surmised that the entity must have simply said everything it could ever possibly say in one burst. It's whole life in one message. She had been at the edge of it, but she knew that if the human that got sucked in wasn't already dead, that would have killed him. The hole opened again and the human body was pushed back towards it. It floated limply out of the Astral Plane and back into the physical world. Beyond the hole, Rachel saw a modest apartment. She didn't recognize any of it. The hole closed sharply and the entity seemed to stir almost restlessly. And as the entity became aware of her presence, Rachel understood. She understood it all. "Look!", Tim yelled as Rachel's eyes popped open. Rachel swayed limply in her chair and looked about to topple. She would have, if Krystalin had not run up to support her. "What happened?", Shakti asked. "Forgive me," Rachel said. "I did not expect such a shock at returning to my body." "Are you alright?", Krystalin asked. "Yes, yes, I just need to catch my breath," she answered. "We were wrong," Rachel said, looking seriously at the three X-men. "There is no murderer." "What?", Tim said, incredulous. "Of course there's a murderer." "He...er, it...is not a murderer. It's just...lonely," Rachel answered. "What is it?", Shakti asked. "Something I bet you'd never believe existed," Rachel smiled at Shakti. "A creature, an entity, completely consisting of thought. I can't imagine how old it must be." Everyone's face was covered in surprise, even Shakti's. "Why is it killing people?", Tim asked. "It doesn't mean to," Rachel said. "It just wants someone to talk to. Somewhere it must have figured out how to open a portal between the real world and the Astral Plane." "And that's what the portal I saw was," Shakti said. Rachel nodded. "Yes. It just...doesn't know that it's killing the people it's trying to befriend." "That's so sad...," Krystalin said to herself. It was, Rachel knew. And yet, she understood the entity all too well. The entity and herself were both trapped by the worlds around them. Perhaps for the first time in her entire life, she had found a kindred spirit. * * * Henri knocked on the door of Morphine's quarters for what seemed like the thousandth time. "C'mon Somers, you've got to be in there, it's three in the morning," Henri muttered to himself. It would be ironic, he thought, if Morphine was doing the same thing to his door at the moment. Morphine didn't know about Bloodhawk, or at least, Henri hoped he didn't. With a creak, the ornate wooden door to Morphine's quarters opened. But it wasn't Morphine who stepped out. "Christopher," a loosely robed Aloria Craven said petulantly as she smirked at him. "Do you need help getting to bed, as well?" Henri's face flushed crimson. He had to swallow his tongue. "Uh...erhem...I'm here to see Morphine." Aloria giggled. "How coincidental, so was I." Before Henri could respond, the door swung wider and Morphine stared out at him dressed in a tightly-cinched black robe. His face looked tired, but then again, it was three in the morning. "Morning Chris...," he said in his usual sardonic tone. "Come for an early breakfast?" "I came to talk," Henri said, turning his head towards Aloria. "Privately." "Of course," Aloria said, stepping out into the hallway. "You look starved, Christopher...," she said as she ran a hand down the side of Henri's face. "You really shouldn't keep such late hours." Before Henri could react, she was quickly past him and on her way down the hallway. Henri watched her walk off, his gaze never leaving her until she turned the corner. He turned his gaze back towards Morphine, who was leaning in the doorway. "She's a fresh one, isn't she?", Morphine said, smiling. Henri grunted in reply. 'I would like to talk with you," Henri said, stepping into Morphine's quarters. Like most of the Alaskan Complex, the sleeping quarters were made up to emulate a British Victorian style. There was a sitting room which led to the bedchamber beyond, the furniture was wood, yet sturdy and the legs of the large table in the sitting room had carved ends. The chairs were bordered in gold, with white plush seating. There was a large mirror above the chairs with gilded edges and a thin bureau on the other side of the sitting room. For all the detail put into the furnishings, the table top itself was bare except for a large leather bound volume on it. Henri stared at it, wondering what was inside. "You like that?", Morphine said as he shut the door, nodding at the book. "It's the history of the Hellfire Club. Each volume has a thousand pages, with each member of the Inner Circle getting a section. It's fascinating reading. That's the seventh volume right there. Goes right up to the 1960's." Henri perked an eyebrow. "Really? Do they have a volume from the Age of Heroes?" "Dunno," Morphine answered. "I haven't read that far yet." "I suppose you don't have a lot of time for reading, especially at night," Henri said in a stern and mocking tone. Morphine smiled. "It's not every night I'm so lucky...much as I wish I was. C'mon kid, there's a couch in the bedchamber you can sit on." Morphine walked past Henri and disappeared into the bedchamber. Henri followed as the lights flicked on inside. Henri got right to the point. "So what have you found out so far? You haven't been very...forthcoming lately." "I've been busy, Chris. Being the Black Rook ain't all pizazz and hoo-hah," Morphine said, sitting down on this four-post bed. All the curtains were drawn back. "Everyone's up to something, it seems, and it takes a while to sort out." "And what are you up to?", Henri asked, either too tired or too angry at Morphine to beat around the bush. "Me? Well first things first, I'm going to have to talk to the servants about the bugs that keep popping up in this room. Damn critters are everywhere." Henri furrowed his brow in puzzlement as Morphine stood up on his bed and reached up for something. Silently he took out a small piece of wood and showed it to Henri. Smiling, the wood disintegrated to dust, aged a hundred years in less than a second. Realization came to Henri. "To my best guess, she planted five of these things in here tonight. And I find new ones everyday," Morphine said. "Everyone here is playing their own game, Chris. And it seems that part of that game means keeping tabs on me." Morphine sat back down on the bedspread. "You should check your own room for bugs." "I have." Henri had when they first arrived, but since then he had programmed the entrance to his quarters with his own encrypted lock. Not even the servants could enter to clean. Only him. He had not bothered to check for bugs since. "What are their plans for Halo?", Henri went on. "Well, you know all about Desdemona Synge paying a visit to Halo, right?", Morphine asked. Henri nodded, it seemed that Bloodhawk himself had assisted her just outside the city. "Well now she's the contractor in charge of rebuilding the portion of the city that was destroyed in that fight between Exodus and that crazy old guy." A look of surprise appeared on Henri's face, how had she managed to finagle that from the City Council? He hoped the X-men were keeping an eye on her. "Shaw's been leaning on her to let a chapter of the Hellfire Club move in the city," Morphine continued. Wonderful. That was all they needed. A powerful enemy with a firm foothold in their city. Henri found himself hoping Desdemona was keeping on eye on that. It didn't bode well when you had to trust an enemy to keep another enemy at bay. "Has she buckled yet?", Henri asked. "Not that I've heard, although he's not devoting his entire energies to just that. I can't figure out what else he's doing though." "Shouldn't you be the first one to know? Your knowledge of Halo and the X-men should be priceless to him." "You'd think that, wouldn't ya? I would too, but we'd both be wrong." "Anything else?", Henri asked. "Not much. Aloria and Shaw definitely have something going on between them, but I don't know what yet. Aloria, for all her openness, is probably the most secretive person here. Sir Domingo de Solas and Jonathan Richards left a day ago to check in on their companies. Richards is an information broker." "Did you find out their powers?" "Some of them. Richards' is obvious, he's a human antenna. He can receive any kind of electronic messages. Telephone, radio, satellite signals, you name it. Nathan Dumakas can generate electricity, 'cept he doesn't glow in the dark like Fitzgerald does. And you don't even want to know what Amanda Mallie can do." "What about Rentaro?" "I don't know. He makes himself scarce. And when I do see him he doesn't talk to me. He doesn't like me for some reason. You wouldn't have had anything to do with that, would you?", Morphine asked. "Not with him," Henri answered. "I haven't seen him at all." "Huh, well, try and keep out of his way," Morphine suggested. "There's no telling what that guy will do." Henri nodded. "I'll try." "I think it's time you left now. Some of us Inner Circle members sleep." Morphine slid back and tucked himself under the covers. "Even fake members?", Henri asked, almost fearing the answer. If Morphine grew to like the Hellfire Club more than Halo and the X-men, well, it was worrisome to say the least. Henri felt like he was juggling two death sentences here. "'Course," Morphine answered, burrowing his head into the pillows and closing his eyes. "Goodnight, Morphine," Henri said, making his way out the door. "Hey Chris..." "What?" "Shut the light off, will ya?" Henri said nothing in reply, and flicked the light switch off as he walked out of the bedchamber and back out into the hallway. Morphine laid there, waiting for sleep to take him, as he thought about the present circumstances. Being a member of the Inner Circle wasn't so bad as long as you kept quiet. And as long as you didn't have lasting attachments to anyone. The others in the Inner Circle would pounce on such things, Morphine knew. And use them against one another. Henri was a smart man, but it was only a matter of time before one of the Inner Circle got to him. If they broke him, Henri would be a devastating liability to him. Hopefully, for Henri's sake at least, Morphine hoped that Alexander Shaw wouldn't find that out until it was too late. * * * "That is OUT OF THE QUESTION, Rachel!", Shakti yelled. Tim and Krystalin both jumped back at the force of Shakti's voice. They had never seen her this emotional. "It's not your decision, Shakti," Rachel said calmly. Pained expression burst from Shakti's face, her tone became pleading. "You can't do that! Please, Rachel, it's suicide." "It's no such thing. And someone has to stop the entity. Stop it from killing." "You don't even know if it will work. What if you're lost forever?", Shakti asked. "Shakti...," Rachel said warmly. "You've done so much for me. You helped me live among society. You taught me about myself. You've been a ray of hope for me. And I'll never forget it..." Shakti shook her head. "No, Rachel, you can't..." "Just listen, dear," Rachel said. "You've always been there for me, even if you didn't know it." "Then STAY..." "But Shakti," Rachel continued on. "There's something not even you could do for me. This may be my only chance." "To do what, to leave me?", Shakti looked up at Rachel, she was surprised to see tears welling up in Shakti's eyes. Across the room, Tim and Krystalin were silent. They wanted to be there for their teammate, but neither really thought they could make it any better. For a moment, Tim pondered what he would do if he lost Luna. Would he cry? He didn't know. Rachel took Shakti in her arms and hugged her. "Shakti, dear...I couldn't leave you." Rachel ran a hand through Shakti's hair and smiled. Shakti drew back. "I'll always be here, on the edges," Rachel said, tapping Shakti's head. "It's not the same, Rachel...," Shakti said, a tear escaping from her eye, running down her cheek. "Can't argue with you there. But it'll have to do." "Are...are you going to do it now?", Shakti asked, a sob escaping from her lips. Rachel nodded affirmatively. "Do it quickly then," Shakti said. "Before I change my mind and try to stop you." Without a word, Rachel closed her eyes and dove into the white light inside her mind. In a moment, she was back on the Astral Plane. With another thought, she located the entity. It was closer than before, as if it had been trying to follow a trail she had unknowingly left behind. Gingerly, she approached it, the fuzzy mass of whirling thought and power. It felt so completely innocent and childlike, and through it all was the familiar pang of loneliness and isolation. Quietly, but surely, she spoke to the entity. "Hello." The entity became furiously active at the greeting, homing in on Rachel. Immediately, she brought up her defenses. She sincerely hoped she was not wrong about this. "GREETINGS," the entity said, it's voice thundering in her skull. "YOU ARE DIFFERENT. YOU ARE NOT QUIET LIKE THE OTHERS I FIND. YOU ARE FASCINATING. GREETINGS. RESPOND. RESPOND. RESPOND. RESPOND. RESPOND." The entity droned on with the same request to respond. It's voice was terribly powerful, she had to screen most of it out. And it was still taking a lot of effort to do so. "I am like you," Rachel answered it. "I seek another to converse with." "EXCELLENT. WE WILL CONVERSE. EXCELLENT. EXCELLENT. EXCELLENT. EXCELLENT. EXCELLENT," the entity answered. "YOU ARE LIKE ME. THIS IS NOT ALL OF YOU." "That is correct," Rachel answered. "I exist on another plane of existence. The same one as the entities you have previously tried to converse with." "THEY WERE SILENT. YOU ARE ONE OF THEM?" "Yes. Do you know what it means to die?" "DIE? DIE? DIE? DIE? NO. NO." "It is to end. It is when you end," Rachel spoke. "END?", the entity questioned. Rachel realized that it most likely did not know what an ending was. The Astral Plane went on forever. How would a being that lived there know of endings? "Imagine if suddenly there was nothing. Your surroundings, everything was gone." "HOW COULD THAT HAPPEN?" "That is what happens when you die. That is what you did to the entities you pulled from the other plane of existence. You made them die." "THEY WOULD NOT CONVERSE." "They could not. Not everyone is the same as you and I," Rachel said. For once, the entity was silent at this. "I am the only one who can converse with you here." "WE SHALL CONVERSE." "Yes. But soon I will be gone, as well. Then you will be alone again." "I AM LONELY. THERE ARE SO MANY ENTITIES HERE, BUT THEY WILL NOT CONVERSE WITH ME AND I DO NOT KNOW HOW TO MAKE THEM." "I know how." "INFORM ME HOW." Rachel steeled herself. This was it. "In the other place, the place where I come from, all the entities speak with you there. That is the only place they can. You must go there." "I CANNOT." "You could if you had a body." "BODY?" "It is what the entities use to house their entities inside. In the plane of existence where all these other entities exist, a body cannot survive without the entity and the entity cannot survive without the body. That is why they die when you bring them here." "CAN YOU BRING ME THERE?" Rachel smiled. "I can." Rachel opened her eyes again to see a red-eyed Shakti staring intently at her. "Well?", Shakti asked. "It's time, dear," Rachel answered her. Immediately, Shakti stood up and hugged her tightly. "Please don't go," Shakti whispered, sniffling. "You always were stubborn, Shakti," Rachel said, returning the hug as tightly as she could. "It's one of your more endearing traits." Shakti released Rachel and sat back down on the bed, smiling while tears flowed quietly from her eyes. Tim walked up to Rachel. "I know I didn't know you very well, Rachel," he said. "But hey," Tim smiled. "Visit often, okay?" Rachel smiled and gave him a quick hug. "You have a good heart, Timothy," Rachel said. Tim smiled. Krystalin came up and hugged Rachel. "Good luck, Rachel," she said quietly. "I hope you find what you're looking for." "Thank you dear," Rachel said. She turned back to Shakti. "It's time for me to go now." Shakti took Rachel's hand and held it. "I love you, Rachel." "I love you too, Shakti. I always will. I hope you'll do the same for me." "I will," Shakti choked out. Rachel smiled and closed her eyes. "Remember Shakti," she said. "I'm not doing this to die. I'm doing this to live." Rachel entered the Astral Plane to find the entity waiting. Calmly, she told the entity what to do. "I AM EXCITED," it said to Rachel. "So am I." Without another word, the entity plunged into her astral form. For a moment, Rachel feared she would be lost in the confusion. The way the entity thought was so alien to her own. She had to extract herself bit by bit from it and yet join with it as one presence. Somehow, in the swirling and tossing tornado of consciousness, she did exactly that. Quietly and solemnly, she looked inward on herself. Part of her was still there and yet the entity was also there. This was it, it had to be done quickly or all would be lost. She felt a door open inside herself, something she had always known was there yet never dared touch. Hurriedly, the entity rushed inside it. It felt like her insides were being vacuumed out, the feeling seemed to go on forever, as if there was no end to the entity. Yet before she knew it, it was over. The door closed with a jarring SNAP that she felt right down to the core of herself. And then she was free. Her power, the thing she had feared more than anything else, was now an integral part of her. It WAS her. Every bit of it. The Astral Plane was an expansive universe laid out before her. There was no more fear anymore. There was no more holding back. There was just freedom. NEXT ISSUE: What is it like to be human? To live in a physical world? To dwell in a society with such a precarious balance of rules? The Entity explores this strange new existence it has entered as trouble brews to a boiling point in Halo City. Be here as the storyline progresses ever forward. |