Authors: Peter David
“Oh, you’re always so grouchy when you get cut in half.”
“Doctor McCoy,” one of the reporters said, “do you have any comment on this so-called ‘mutant cure’?”
Wolverine and the Beast exchanged confused looks. “I’m sorry. ‘Cure?’”
“Yes.” The reporter, a burly man, pushed his way forward slightly and continued, “Doctor Anita Rhodes from Benetech claimed at a press conference today that she had a cure for the disease that causes people to become mutants…”
“
Disease!”
Wolverine snarled. His hands trembled with fury; it was clear that he was fighting to keep his claws from snapping out. Video of Wolverine disemboweling a reporter wouldn’t exactly help with Cyclops’ plan for reforming their public image.
The Beast put a quick hand on Wolverine’s arm to steady him. “I’m sorry, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’ve never heard of any…” Then something suddenly clicked into place. “Wait…are you talking about Kavita Rao? Doctor Kavita Rao?”
“Right, right, that’s it,” said the reporter. “Are you familiar with her work? Do you believe this is the genuine item? Would you make use of it?”
“Oh, we’d use it, awright,” said Wolverine. “We’d use it to shove it up her—”
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“No comment,” the Beast said quickly, overriding Wolverine. “We have no comment at this time. Thank you. Wolverine,” and he indicated with a nod of his head that Wolverine should follow him. It was a crapshoot whether Wolverine would do so, and the Beast breathed an inward sigh of relief as Wolverine indulged him.
Cyclops and Kitty were still vainly trying to field questions while Emma just looked on imperiously. Coming in close behind Cyclops, the Beast said in a low voice, “We have to leave. Right now.”
“What? Why?”
“Something’s come up. I’ve already been asked about it and my guess is that within thirty seconds or so, you will be, too. And we don’t need footage of all of us standing there with stunned expressions saying, ‘What are you talking about?’”
“Hank, I don’t—”
“A geneticist that I’ve known for years—Kavita Rao of Benetech—claims that she’s invented a cure for that terrible disease called being a mutant.”
“What are you talking about?” Cyclops said, stunned.
“See?”
Cyclops didn’t hesitate, calling in a loud voice that interrupted Kitty’s attempt to explain just what it was that was sitting on her shoulder. “Thank you very much for your questions, ladies and gentlemen. We have to take off, and I mean that literally.”
He headed back into the building and, taking his cue, the others started to follow. At which point the ranking police officer on the scene shouted, “Hold it, people! You can’t just leave! Wait… on second thought, you’re free to go. The city thanks you!” And he saluted.
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In the lobby, they headed for the elevators that would take them to the roof where the Blackbird waited. “Thank you, Emma,” the Beast said drily.
“You don’t think my making him salute was too much?”
“It may have been, but I kind of liked it.”
The moment they were in the elevator, Cyclops said, “First order of business: When we get back up to the penthouse, someone grab one of those guns the soldiers used.”
“Souvenir?” said Wolverine.
“No. I have a more practical use for it.” He turned to the Beast. “What the hell were you telling me back there?’”
“I’ve told you about as much as I know, actually. And I got it from a reporter so inept he couldn’t even get her name right, so the information is—at best—suspect. I suggest on the flight back we monitor the news radio stations and see what they’re reporting. Because if it’s true…”
“Good lord,” said Emma.
Cyclops glanced at her. “You read my mind?”
“To save time, yes. I find it difficult to believe.”
“As do I. If it’s true, we have to figure out what we’re going to say to the students. And I cannot emphasize this enough: We have to present a united front. Are we all agreed?”
“Yes,” said Emma.
“Absolutely,” said the Beast.
Wolverine nodded slightly in agreement.
Cyclops turned to Kitty, who was absentmindedly petting Lockheed. “Kitty? You agree?”
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“Definitely. United front for the students. I’m on board. I just have one question.”
“And that would be—?”
“What the
hell
are we talking about?”
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“…UNDER
ordinary conditions, a proposed cure for mutations would require years of testing through the Food and Drug Administration. However, according to sources, Homeland Security—which unofficially considers mutants to be an ongoing threat to national interests—has approached the Secretary of Health and Human Services to see what can be done about getting Benetech’s alleged cure into circulation. As a result, a special waiver for the cure is currently being fast-tracked through channels, operating under the assumption that anyone choosing to avail themselves of the cure would be doing so of their own free will in full knowledge of any risks the cure might present. Doctor Rao, however, has insisted that the cure will not be provided to the public on a wholesale basis until she’s certain that it is as safe as humanly possible…”
“Humanly possible.” Kitty stared at the small television in the teachers’ lounge. “Anyone else find that word choice funny?”
“Hilarious,” said Logan. He didn’t look amused. He wasn’t.
The news then replayed excerpts from Kavita Rao’s earlier conference:
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“Mutants are not the next step in evolution. They are not the Homo sapiens to our Neanderthals, no matter how many times the term ‘Homo superior’ might be invoked by certain mutant activists. They are not the end of humankind. The mutant gene is nothing more than a disease. A corruption of healthy cellular activity. And now…at last…we have found a cure.”
Logan’s claws snapped out.
“Shut it off, Logan, if you’d be so kind, but preferably without slashing it to death,” said Emma. She was looking distinctly uncomfortable, her fingers to the bridge of her nose, her eyes closed.
Logan picked up the remote and did as she asked. His claws remained out. The silence filled the room as if it were a living thing.
Scott, Logan, and Kitty then looked at each other. Hank was staring out the window, his back to them. Emma was looking at no one. None of them could seem to find the words to say.
But they all knew. It didn’t have to be spoken.
Scott’s ambitions for the positive perception of mutants had just been kneecapped. Here they’d gone in, risked their lives—standard operating procedure, admittedly—to try to make a name for themselves as heroes and humanitarians. And now some woman, with just a few words, had demoted them from heroes to victims. Sufferers of a sickness, but hey, no worries. She held the cure in her hand and could make all the mutants just go away. No one would have to look at them or worry about them anymore. Even those horrible X-Men would be nice and safe and normal, rather than a potential threat.
“I was downstairs,” Kitty said finally, breaking the silence. “Half the kids are glued to the TV in the den. The rest of them are talking about this, arguing about it. Frankly, they’re freaking out. They’re terrified,
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confused. Some of them are ecstatic, and others hate the ones who are ecstatic. They don’t know how to deal with this.”
“And they’re giving me a sodding migraine,” Emma finally spoke up. “The psychic tension is unbearable.”
“Okay,” said Scott. “There have been too many times in this world where the public panics because wrong information gets out. Then by the time the truth emerges, everyone’s wasted a lot of time and energy getting worked up about it. For nothing. We are not going to fall into that trap. The first thing we have to find out is whether this is some kind of hoax. Find out who this woman—”
“Kavita Rao,” Hank said, so softly that Scott, Emma, and Kitty nearly didn’t hear him. (Wolverine, of course, did.) “She’s one of the greatest geneticists alive, and not prone to pranks.” He kept his back to them. “I don’t know much about this corporation, ‘Benetech.’ But if Doctor Rao says she can reverse mutation, there’s a very good chance she can.”
Emma slowly opened her eyes. The cobalt blue of her irises glittered mercilessly. “Then I guess I’ll have to kill her.”
“Well,
there’s
a thoughtful plan,” said Kitty.
“And I say ‘amen’ to it.”
Kitty looked at Logan, who had just endorsed the concept of premeditated murder, and there was shock and even fleeting betrayal in her eyes. “Are you kidding?”
“Do I look like I’m kidding? Do I look like somebody who has a problem with killing?”
“No. I’ve seen you kill. But always in self-defense…”
“That’s what this is. I piled up a lot of enemies in my time, kid. If
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I didn’t have my powers, don’t think for a minute they wouldn’t come after me.” He studied his claws clinically. “Just imagine me not having a healing factor. I’d be standing there, or more likely lying there, in agony, while blood flowed out of my hand through the gaping wounds from my claws. Yeah. I’d be real useful.”
“Logan,” Kitty said worriedly, “could you…put them away, maybe? I don’t know why, but they’re making me a little nervous.”
“I can’t,” he said. His tone was devoid of emotion. “The woman called me a disease. You know how that feels to me? I can’t even sheathe. My claws won’t go back. She said…we were…a
disease
.”
“She said the mutant
strain
was a disease,” she reminded him.
“You think this Doctor Rao knows the difference? And even if she does, you think anyone else will?”
“You think the government will?” said Emma. “You heard them. They’re willing to throw all caution aside to get this drug out there quickly. You think they’re hurrying it along because they’re anxious to give people a
choice
on the matter? If this mutant ‘cure’ does exist, then they will get a hold of it, and they will line us up. Those who refuse to take it voluntarily, well…they’ll be attended to. Perhaps the next time we go out to fight on behalf of humanity, to show them what heroes we are, there’ll be sharpshooters in place firing darts at us filled with the cure. They’ll let us attend to the menace, and then they’ll attend to us. Don’t you see where this is heading?”
“Yeah, to murder,” said Kitty. “The professor would be so proud.”
Emma approached her until they were inches from each other. Kitty didn’t flinch. Emma’s normally reserved voice was filled with barely restrained anger and contempt. “As usual, your naïveté is neither
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cute nor useful. Have it your way: The government, despite all likelihood to the contrary, decides not to force the cure upon us. How secure do you expect the supply of it to be? This isn’t plutonium we’re talking about. It will get out. What if it falls into the hands of anti-mutant extremists?”
“Or our new buddy from another world,” said Logan.
“Ord,” said Scott, who had remained silent for much of the discussion. “We need to know about this guy. He drew us out for a reason.”
“Yeah, right before the nice doctor lady went public,” Logan pointed out. “We thinkin’ that’s a coincidence?”
“I don’t know,” said Scott. “I don’t know what to…” He paused, and then looked away from the others as if he couldn’t meet their gaze. He seemed…
…ashamed.
“The professor would have been ready for this,” he said softly.
It was a considerable turnaround from mere hours ago, when he had led them out on their mission, speaking in confident tones of what they were going to accomplish. Now he looked isolated, alone, even though he was surrounded by friends.
“No one could have been ready for—” Kitty began.
Emma cut her off, not even bothering to look at her. “You’re tired, Scott. And tomorrow is likely to be unpleasant. Why don’t you get some rest? In fact,” and she took in the rest of them with her gaze, “all you fine men should try to relax. That means claws in, Logan. Kitty and I will figure out how to keep the students together tonight.”
“Thanks, Emma,” said Scott. He sounded a bit like a lost child.
In a vain attempt to bring some levity to the somber moment,
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Hank suggested, “Maybe Scott and Logan could fight on the lawn again. The kids loved that.”
Logan didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, sheathing his claws with visible effort, he said, “I ain’t up to anything don’t have the word ‘beer’ in it.”
“You could fight for beers,” said Hank.
“Well, now that doesn’t sound too bad.”
The door closed behind them. Emma and Kitty were alone.