Read Sanctuary Online

Authors: Christopher Golden

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

Sanctuary (5 page)

BOOK: Sanctuary
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"I knew it was only a matter of time before some intrepid member of our media tracked me down," Magneto said happily. "With a city as devoted to news and entertainment as New York, you would have thought some of the press would have stuck around to cover the story. But if they're here, they're not looking for an interview."

The other Acolyte, the cowled man Trish now remembered was called Senyaka, remained with his head slightly bowed. Their friendliness was disarming. Even more so, it was disturbing.

"Wait just a minute," Magneto said, eyebrows raised. "I've seen you before, haven't I? You are one of the locals, the woman who covers the so-called mutant crisis. Perfect. What was your name again, Ms.—?"

"Tilby," she said calmly, coldly. She wasn't going to let the man's strength of character overwhelm her. Though she finally understood the expression, "cult of personality."

"Of course," Magneto said effusively. "Trish, isn't it? Trish Tilby?"

Trish stared right into the man's face, past the handsome features and the winter white hair, locking her gaze on the blue-gray eyes but ignoring the distinguished way they crinkled into tiny crow's feet at the edges. She pretended not to notice his regal bearing, the almost armor-like quality of the crimson and deep purple uniform he wore.

"That's right," she answered. "And you are?"

She heard Kevin's sharp intake of breath behind her as the mutant conqueror's smile disappeared. The warmth leeched from Magneto's face in an instant, like a glaring light that had not been turned off, but burnt out. He licked his lips, and Trish felt the strength of his personality in another way. There was a real, tangible danger in every breath this man drew.

"And I am?" he asked slowly, no mockery in his tone, but certainly in his manner. "Not amused, to begin with. Not amused at all."

Trish looked past Magneto to see that Senyaka was glaring at her with hatred for her affront. The red-headed woman, Voght, was shaking her head in bemused astonishment.

"I had imagined you a relatively intelligent woman, Ms. Tilby," Magneto said. "If Iwas mistaken, perhaps you would care to leave the city immediately. On foot, like the rest of the human cattle whom I have allowed to depart."

She almost turned around then. Almost ran screaming in terror, the fear of death driving her to take whatever risk was necessary to escape. Though he was not pulling at her physically, Trish could imagine the mental urging that Kevin must have been focusing on her at that moment. But after a second, she knew she wouldn't run. It was the story. Sadly, her job defined her life, and getting the story would define her job. But there was more to it than that. She couldn't run from such malevolent actions.

"You'll have to bear with me, Magneto," she said, lifting her chin. ''I'm afraid I'm not really used to dealing with tyrants whose thugs murder innocent civilians before my eyes. Maybe that's par for the course for international war correspondents, but it's just not been part of my experience up to now. I suppose I'll have to get used to witnessing atrocities."

Magneto's right eye twitched with barely controlled fury and he seemed about to scream, or strike out at her. Then he let out a long breath, half sigh and half deflation, and nodded pensively.

"You shame me, Ms. Tilby," Magneto admitted, and Trish didn't know whether to be stunned or incredulous.

"What do you know of my history?" he asked.

It took her a moment to realize what Magneto was referring to, and then it hit her. He was a Jew. As a child, Magneto had seen his entire family destroyed by the Holocaust. She remembered that from Magneto's abortive appearance before the World Court.

"I've read your dossier," she answered. "Your past gives me even greater reason to be—"

"I have seen more atrocity in my life than anyone man should ever have to endure," he said. "When I was but a child, my family was murdered, because we were Jews. Throughout my adult life, I have been persecuted because I am a mutant.

"I will not allow it to continue," he said, leaning forward and staring at her with those intense slate eyes.

"I do not condone murder," he said, more calmly. "Even in self defense, or in the pursuit of greater justice, the taking of life, even human life, sickens me."

Magneto laid a fatherly hand on Amelia Voght's shoulder, though the woman did not look at him. For a moment, Trish wondered whether the gesture was as paternal as she'd thought, or if there was some romantic involvement there.

"But this is war, Ms. Tilby," he continued. "There are casualties in war. I believe I have been more than fair in my edicts. No one who conforms to my law will be harmed in any way. In point of fact, the quality of life for those who remain within the city will likely improve. Those who do not want to live under my rule are free to leave."

Magneto took his hand from Voght's shoulder and leaned his head back, looking regally down on Trish. She could almost feel the arrogance that emanated from him, and yet, she also sensed that there was every reason for him to be arrogant.

"You are free to leave as well," Magneto said. "Or, you may stay and get the 'scoop' of your career. You and your cameraman may record anything you wish, and I will see that it is taken by courier to your employers for broadcast."

Trish looked at Kevin, trying to gauge what was going through his head. The cameraman had never been as career-oriented as she, but surely he could see the possibilities. At the same time, they both had to recognize the dangers involved.

"How about it, Kev?" she asked, and he did a double take, as if he was startled she would even ask.

"Trish, if you think for a moment I'm gonna back your action here, you've gotta be—" Kevin began.

"Before you continue," Magneto interrupted, "I should mention that, if you decide to leave, you will not be allowed to do so the same way you came. For humans, Manhattan is a no-fly zone. That you were able to get past the Sentinels' perimeter at all is a minor miracle. No, if you're leaving, you'll be on foot like all the other human emigrants."

Magneto raised a hand and looked past them, then. Trish followed his gestures, turning to see that their helicopter had lifted above the trees of the. park several hundred yards north and was now moving slowly toward them. It was not in flight. It was being moved by Magneto's power.

"No!" Kevin said suddenly, and Trish held up a hand to stop him from saying or doing anything rash.

"Our pilot, Billy, is probably still on board," Trish said, by way of explanation. "If you detest murder as much as you claim, you won't kill him as part of a simple exercise."

Magneto nodded, turned his right hand in the air, and the helicopter flipped on its side in the air. After a moment, the door popped open and Billy slid his legs out, then quickly dropped, cursing, to the park below.

"Holy—," Kevin hissed angrily.

Then they watched in astonishment as the helicopter seemed to implode, crushed into a ball of screeching metal like an empty beer can in a huge invisible hand. A ways away from where Billy had leapt out, the helicopter thudded to the ground.

Speechless, Trish turned to Magneto, who stood imperiously awaiting her reply. Without consulting Kevin again, she gave the only answer she could think of.

"We'll stay."

"Excellent," Magneto said, smiling again. "Now go and see that your friend is unharmed, and if he wishes to remain with you. Then return here and we will all move on. There is much to be done before daybreak."

With an enormous relief that they were to be allowed out of Magneto's presence, even for a few minutes, Trish turned to follow Kevin back into the park, searching for Billy.

"Just a moment," Magneto said, and her stomach lurched. "The camera."

Kevin handed it over, as silent as Magneto's two Acolytes, who had quietly observed the proceedings without comment. They were well trained, or very frightened of their leader.

Magneto passed a hand over the film cartridge, then returned it to Kevin .:

"You might want to rewind and start again," he said. "The tape is now blank."

"What?" Kevin asked, obviously pissed off.

"You said we could record anything we wished," Trish reminded him.

Magneto's face remained impassive.

"
Almost
anything."

• • •

During her years as a member of the X-Men, Ororo Munroe had established a reputation for extraordinary calm during battle. That was part of the reason that Charles Xavier had made her co-leader of the team. Ororo, also called Storm, had learned patience as a child thief on the streets of Cairo, Egypt. Now, though, her patience was wearing very thin.

And clearly, she wasn't the only one.

"What is all this waiting?" Bishop snapped, pacing across the room with military stride, as he'd been doing for nearly twenty minutes. "What does Professor Xavier expect to gain from speaking with the government? It is their hatred of us that caused this crisis to begin with!"

"Bishop," Storm said, "we're all on edge here, but let's not forget that those Sentinels would still be sitting in a silo in Colorado if Magneto hadn't hijacked them."

Bishop turned to her angrily, about to issue some sharp retort she was sure, but then his features softened and he shook his head. Storm knew that look. It said that she didn't understand, that none of them would ever understand. And she knew, as well, that it was true.

"You're right, of course," Bishop said. "But for how long, Ororo? For how long?"

The room was quiet for a moment. At the window, Wolverine stood looking out at the night. He didn't tap his fingers, or his feet. He didn't hum. He didn't pace. Wolverine was a hunter, and though he lacked patience, and might voice his annoyance, he would never physically give himself away.

Bobby Drake was his opposite. He still sat at the table where they had met with Professor Xavier, but he was rapid-fire-drumming the Lone Ranger theme on the table with the fingers of both hands. From time to time, he would sigh, or mutter to himself. Storm couldn't help but smile as she watched him in her peripheral vision. For Bobby, this behavior was amazingly restrained.

Hank McCoy, was another story entirely.

"No matter what the government concludes, we cannot linger here," Hank said hurriedly as he bounded from his chair to stand beside Storm. ''The longer we tarry, the more mutants enter Manhattan, the stronger the opposition grows. Time is of the essence, Ororo."

"Do not think for a moment that I disagree, Hank," Storm said. "But without the Professor's approval, I don't think we should go anywhere."

"Indeed," the Beast said, obviously frustrated but not arguing. He reached to an intercom switch on the wall, and snapped it on.

"Time is wasting, Charles," he said without preamble.

"We must depart at once."

"I'll be right there," Xavier's voice came back, filtered into the room through the speaker, and the Beast looked back to Storm with an apologetic shrug.

"I am aware that this assemblage has never been a democracy," he said. "But at times, there are certain imperatives of logic that must be addressed."

When the door hissed open to allow Professor Xavier entrance, Storm could not have been more relieved.

"Finally!" Bishop exclaimed, as they all gathered round the table once more.

"What news, Charles?" Storm asked, and Xavier hesitated only a moment before answering.

"None, I'm afraid," he began, and held up a hand to forestall interruption. "Valerie Cooper is meeting with the President as we speak, attempting to get authorization to officially work with the X-Men for the duration of this crisis."

"Come on, Professor!" Bobby said angrily, leaping to his feet. "There's no way in hell our old buddy Gyrich is gonna let that happen. Yeah, maybe we're feeling pretty down about what went on in Colorado. But this is a whole new scenario. Every minute that ticks by just makes it harder to put an end to this thing."

"Bobby is correct, Charles," the Beast said emphatically. "You must do whatever you may, secure what reinforcements you can, just as Valerie is doing what she may within the parameters the government has contrived for her. But we cannot delay."

After a silent moment, Storm said calmly, "They are right, Professor. Though we stand very little chance of succeeding, we must go."

"Don't talk that way darlin'," Wolverine snarled before Xavier even had a chance to respond. "We'll take it to 'em hard, guerilla style. They won't even know we're they're until it's allover for 'em. Trust the ol' Canucklehead, will ya? They've got way too much ground to secure. We leave now, we can have New York back in the hands of the thieves who've been running the place by first light."

Wolverine looked at Professor Xavier, then, and Storm could almost hear the words before they came out of his mouth.

"Whaddaya say, Charley?" Wolverine asked, and Xavier winced. He had asked Logan dozens of times not to call him by that name. Storm suspected that Wolverine did it on purpose, just a little way to shake the balance of a man to whom equilibrium was everything.

"Storm," Charles asked, "are you prepared for this suicide run?"

"Completely," she answered. "The
Blackbird
is ready to go, as are the X-Men. This may be the decisive battle in the war for your dream of harmony, Professor. It must be fought, though we are sadly outnumbered and outgunned."

Professor Xavier nodded.

"With the
Blackbird'
s VTOL abilities, you should have no trouble landing in Central Park," Xavier said. "As you are all mutants, the Sentinels will not stop you. However, they may be programmed to notify Magneto if they detect you. There will be nothing you can do about this. Attacking the Sentinels openly is not an option.

"I will be in Jersey City, doing as much spin control as I can with CNN and the major networks. When I do reach Valerie, we'll try to figure out if the X-Men and the government can work together. I've left a message for Scott and the others. If they return to Earth in time, we'll need them desperately."

He paused a moment, then gave the mission his final blessing in a mental message that entered the minds of each member of the team in the ready room.

BOOK: Sanctuary
10.03Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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