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Authors: Christopher Golden

Tags: #Adventure, #X-Men, #Mutant, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Science Fiction, #Comics & Graphic Novels, #Contemporary, #Literature & Fiction

Sanctuary (4 page)

BOOK: Sanctuary
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"Now," she said to the silenced crowd. "You can disperse immediately, and return to your homes, or I can do precisely the same thing to you. And if you doubt my ability to teleport you simultaneously, I would be more than happy to prove you wrong."

Amid muttered curses, prayers, fearful glances, and vows of vengeance, the humans began to slowly drift away. They watched her carefully as they departed, and she watched them back. Though it was there in her heart, Amelia showed them no remorse. She needed them to know that she would kill them if she had to, and feel nothing for their deaths. It was a useful deceit.

"A masterful performance," a soft voice said above her, and Amelia looked up to see their master, Magneto, hovering in the air, regal in his crimson and magenta uniform.

"Lord Magneto," Senyaka said with hushed reverence, and fell to his knees. "I live to serve you."

"Yes," Magneto said, as he lowered himself to the ground beside them. "Yes, you do."

"I was almost frightened myself, Amelia," Magneto said, turning to her with a smile. Amelia was pleased with the warmth that existed between them, but knew that such special attentions would not endear her to the other Acolytes. Senyaka was spiteful, and was certain to report Magneto's preferential treatment of Amelia to the others. Still there was nothing she could do about it. And they would not dare to harm her, knowing that she was "teacher's pet."

"Come," Magneto commanded. "There are other fires to put out before dawn breaks on the Mutant Empire."

"Where would you like me to transport us, Lord?" she asked.

Amelia looked into Magneto's face, awaiting his response, but then his manner changed. His smile at first disappeared, and then returned, brighter ever.

"Well!" he exclaimed. "It appears that not all the humans were frightened away by your performance after all."

Amelia and Senyaka both spun to see what Magneto was referring to. Amelia thought she had seen it all, believed that she had witnessed the limits of human audacity. But at that moment, those limits were redrawn in her mind. For there, at the edge of the park, stood a human news crew, camera and all, recording all of the events that had just occurred, and were even now occurring.

Incredibly, Magneto was elated. For some reason, that bothered Amelia more than his anger.

• • •

"This is Annelise Dwyer at the CNN newsdesk. If you're just joining us, we're continuing live, uninterrupted coverage of the Crisis in Manhattan. Several hours ago, a band of mutant terrorists led by Eric Magnus Lehnsherr, known and feared throughout the world as Magneto, infiltrated and attacked New York, using robots known as Sentinels, to conquer Manhattan. Magneto has declared the city a safe haven for mutants, and sovereign state with himself in place as ruler.

"This is not the first time that Sentinels have flown over the skies of Manhattan, but it is the first time they have been on the side of mutants. First created by Dr. Bolivar Trask, the Sentinels were mandated to combat the so-called mutant menace. However, Magneto has apparently reprogrammed these Sentinels to serve mutants rather than hunt them. Some CNN sources have suggested that these new Sentinels were created by the U.S. government, but so far, Washington denies any knowledge of the robots.

"According to official sources, half a million people have already fled Manhattan on foot, and more are pouring through every tunnel and over every bridge as we speak. We take you now, live, to Jersey City at the mouth of the Holland Tunnel, where Steve Williams has recent footage of this mass exodus, and an interview with the governor of New York, in just a moment. First, though, Steve, tell us about this exodus. What are people saying? Are their friends and families trapped in Manhattan, or have they stated by choice?"

• • •

On the TV screen, thousands of people fled in terror from the Holland Tunnel. The reporter discussed concerns about the safety of people walking through tunnels and PATH underground train railways as well. he reported on the taking of hostages, the anti-mutant backlash, and the fact that, already, various mutants had been seen flying or levitating over the river to get into the city, to accept Magneto's offer of sanctuary.

Wolverine sat in the darkened den, the flickering TV screen all the light available, and more than he needed to see the room in perfect detail. His eyes were slitted, brows knitted together, and his lips curled back in a low, unconscious growl. He was getting itchy.

He'd been screwed by the system dozens of times. His mind had been sifted and fried so often that he still had a hard time separating the real memories from the implanted ones. And there was so much he had forgotten, so much he'd been to forget. Nearly every time Wolverine had worked within the system, he'd been betrayed. It chewed people up and spit them out, or made them its own. He'd lost friends to it. not their lives, though he'd lost plenty that way as well. No, he's lost them to its philosophies, it's twisted malice.

There was no love in Wolverine's heart for government or authority. He was a loner by nature, answering to none but himself. But then, what was that old saying, "We get the government we deserve?" True. People, at least in America, voted for their government. They had the ability to do something to remove those they did not approve of. Free will, freedom of choice, freedom period, that's what Wolverine believed in. For better or worse.

But in Manhattan, Magneto had taken that away. Wolverine understood why. Sometimes he wished he didn't. He understood the frustration when Charles Xavier's dream of harmony between humans and mutants seemed so far away as to be almost impossible. He understood better than most what it was like to be hounded for what you were. But Magneto was doing the exact same thing, with the tables turned.

Magneto had gone way overboard, this time. It was too much. Not only had he taken away the rights of the people in Manhattan, but the rights of everyone they cared for, of the entire nation, the world. Wolverine didn't care one whit for the businesses that would suffer because of his actions, but the people, that was different.

While their lord was not known for wanton killing, the Acolytes had established a reputation as murderers. There was no telling how many people had already died in this "occupation." And there would be more. Follow Magneto's law, or else. That was clearly the message. While it was a swift brand of justice that seemed almost admirable in the light of the recent failings of the U.S. court system, it was simply wrong.

With one fell swoop, Magneto had placed himself as some medieval king over Manhattan island, allowed some of the cruelest mutants alive to take the place of feudal lords, and relegated every human to the status of peasantry.

Wolverine hated the system, but what Magneto had done in New York was infinitely worse. As he watched the terrified faces that filled the TV screen, the growl deep in his throat became louder, the itch in his soul to go to the city and take it back grew almost uncontainable.

Bishop's arrival couldn't have been better timed. A true warrior, the man walked in silence. Even Wolverine's hyper-sensitive ears might have had trouble picking up the noise of Bishop's footfalls, but there was no disguising the individual human scent, which Wolverine picked up long before he reached the den.

"About time, Bishop," Wolverine said without turning around, even as Bishop stepped into the room.

"We are nearly ready to depart, Logan," Bishop began, with a military stiffness that had been drilled into him long before he joined the X-Men. "Professor Xavier has asked that we all join him in the ready room immediately."

"Like I said," Wolverine replied, "it's about time."

The two men walked together down the marble corridor of the Xavier Institute, and Wolverine could not help but notice his teammate's sullenness. Nor could he blame him. Though all the X-Men had cause to fear Magneto's actions, to fear the deployment of the Sentinels—even though they were being used against humans rather than mutants, as was their original intent—none had more cause than Bishop.

Though the most recent additional to the team, in a way Bishop had been an X-Man his entire life. For, in truth, his life had not yet begun. He was a man of the future, born in a time when the X-Men were the stuff of legend and the Sentinels had first destroyed the modern society that the X-Men knew, and then ruled what was left of the world. When Magneto had fled the Colorado site of Project: Wideawake with the Sentinels earlier that day, Bishop had begun living a waking nightmare. His face had the haunted look of a holocaust survivor, for in many ways, that was the truth of it.

Wolverine wanted to reach out to Bishop, to offer support. But, except in very extreme circumstances, it was not in his nature, just as it was not in Bishop's natured to request, or accept, such support.

They walked in silenced to the ready room, where the others had already gathered. Fully half the team was away, on a mission to save Cyclops's father, Corsair, from execution, but the others remained. not much of a force to contend with what Magneto had put together, but it would have to do.

"Logan, Bishop, please be seated," Storm said. "The Professor ought to be with us momentarily."

Wolverine nodded and slid into a chair. They all seemed preoccupied, even Storm, who shared field leadership duties with Cyclops, and was therefore the current leader of the team.

"I'm getting a little tired of waiting around," Iceman said, unusually somber. "If we had stopped Magneto in Colorado, none of this would be happening now."

"There it is, then," Professor Xavier said as he glided into the room in his hoverchair. Though he was forced to use a wheelchair in public, Wolverine had observed that he spent more and more time in the hoverchair while at the Institute. And who could blame him? For a man who couldn't walk, floating was far easier than manipulating a wheelchair.

"I'm sorry, Professor," Storm responded, eyebrows raised, "but where is what?"

"What Bobby said, about stopping Magneto in Colorado," the Professor explained. "It's been haunting all of you. I may be the most powerful telepath in the world, but you don't need to read minds to see how it has affected you."

The Professor hovered at the head of the table. Wolverine felt Xavier's gaze fall on him, then move on, to each of the gathered X-Men. Storm was to Xavier's left, and the usually verbose Hank McCoy, a.k.a. the Beast, to his right. Wolverine sat opposite him, with Iceman to one side, and Bishop to the other. That was it. The six of them against Magneto, the Acolytes and an army of Sentinels. Or five, really, since the Professor was not likely to take part in the actual battle unless absolutely necessary. The world still did not know that he was a mutant, and it had always served the team's purposes for things to remain that way.

But Bobby was right. If they had stopped Magneto in Colorado ...

"Stop it," Xavier said curtly. "You cannot blame yourself. Not only because you are not responsible, but because it will affect your performance in the battle to come. I have yet to receive any communication from Cyclops's team. It's up to you."

"Charles," the Beast spoke up. "In light of the odds stacked to precipitously against us, I trust you will permit me a trifling inquiry as to our strategy. That is, do we have one?"

Xavier grimaced, looked around the table slowly, then at the Beast.

"I'm working on it, Hank," he said finally. "I'm working on it."

Chapter 2

"J
esus, Trish," Kevin hissed at her side, "he's seen us!"

"Just keep rolling tape, Kev," she responded in a whisper. "Don't let me down."

Less than fifty yards from where Trish Tilby stood, the Acolytes had just murdered two people. Their leader, Magneto, one of the most feared men in the world, had then joined them. Almost immediately, Magneto had seen her and Kevin at the edge of the park. Now Trish waited, not breathing, for Magneto to act. She expected pain, some form of swift retribution. Perhaps even death.

What she did not expect was the way he smiled, and the charming little laugh he gave as he used the magnetic force of the Earth to lift himself from the ground and float toward where she and Kevin stood paralyzed with fear. The two Acolytes, one of whom Trish recognized as a woman named Amelia Voght, followed on foot, obviously awaiting their leader's instructions as to how to deal with the presence of the media.

"You really got us in it deep, this time, Tilby," Kevin whispered to her through clenched teeth. And she couldn't argue.

"Well, well," Magneto began, "what have we here?"

Trish flashed back, for a moment, to old man Gaines, who ran the country store in the small New England town where she'd grown up. Magneto's manner and tone were eerily reminiscent of the pleasant old fellow, long since passed away. Mr. Gaines would smile brightly at her whenever she came in with her Dad. He would pat her on the head and give her a piece of licorice and then, instead of turning to business with her father, he'd spend a few minutes actually conversing with her. She'd never forgotten it, that paternal curiosity and kindness.

Connecting Magneto with Mr. Gaines made Trish want to puke. But she couldn't help it.

BOOK: Sanctuary
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