Generation X - Genogoths

by Unknown Author

  Around him, his troops were regrouping. There was an opportunity in front of them, and he was going to do what he could with it. But just in case. He spoke to his radio. “Black, this is Smokey. Listen, old son, principles are a good thing far as they’ll take you, but those kids just saved us from havin’ our fieads handed to us in our hats. We lost our element o’ surprise. We need some heavy firepower here, and we need it pronto.”

  Jono crouched behind the rocks, ready to do his trick again. One, two, three, GO! He jumped up, and a millisecond before he let loose with his blast, saw the two people crouched under the turret. He fought back the blast. It was like swallowing a mouthful of bile, when he’d still had a mouth.

  The turret’s guns swung around. He looked down the black center of the two barrels and saw death there.

  Then the guns retracted. The turret began to lower back into the ground, and the two people underneath scrambled out just in time. Only when they were in the full moonlight did he recognize them. “Paige! Espeth!” He ran toward them as the turret settled into the ground, again looking like just another boulder.

  “Hi, Jono.” But Paige was distracted. She stared at the rock. “Why do I think this isn’t a good thing?”

  Then a wind kicked up around them. Espeth clutched at her exposed arms and shivered.

  It started to snow.

  Something low and dark rushed by, so quickly that Jono couldn’t quite focus on it, and then another. Glowing red eyes surveyed them from the shadows.

  A movement up-slope caught his eye. Three figures were visible there, outlined against the sky. They wore some sort of armor, but the body types were eerily familiar,

  “Oh, no,” said Espeth.

  “I don’t think,” said Jono, “that it’s the Poweipuff Girls.”

  •'.’■argots acquired,” said the voice of Bloodhound, “two I mutants, one human noncombatant.”

  1 Sharpe grimaced. The training protocols had made the assumption that the Hounds would be collecting mutants from among innocent humans. He should have known that in a true war, nobody is an innocent bystander. He activated his headset mike. “Override authority Sharpe, Omega-zero. All humans not identified as Foxhole personnel are assumed to be hostile. Collection of humans is unnecessary. Eliminate threat only.”

  1 He turned off the mike and reviewed what he’d said. The Hounds weren’t robots. Verbal commands had to be carefully phrased and unambiguous.

  There were three of them on the screen, and it was obvious which two were the mutants. One, a female, seemed to have a body made of living metal. The other, a male, had some kind of energy coming from his lower face. Or—Sharpe squinted and leaned toward the screens connected to the helmet cameras. Good Lord. Half his face was missing. Sharpe had seen things like that before, fighting in the South American jungles, but those people had had the good grace to lie down and die.

  He activated the mike again. “Dispatch targets, but not too quickly. Use this as a training opportunity. Prioritize capturing the male. I want to see what makes him tick.”

  The three armored figures stopped a dozen yards up-slope from Jono, Paige and Espeth. The closest of the three, in the purple, by the build had to be Dog Pound. Paige felt her stomach knot. Pound, despite his rather fearsome appearance, had to be one of the sweetest and most inoffensive guys she’d ever met. What had they done to him?

  She stepped a little closer, careful not to make any threatening moves. “Pound, it’s me, Paige? Remember? I don’t want to hurt you, any of you. Please, fight whatever it is they’re doing.”

  Pound just stood there. Then something smashed into the front of her body with a clang, throwing her back onto the ground, landing on top of her. The robot dog snapped at her throat viciously, the serration of its metal teeth rattling across her skin.

  She struggled to throw the thing off, but something else grabbed her right wrist, then her left, then her legs. Teeth were sawing at her. She couldn’t stay in this form forever, and if she changed back now, she’d be cut into pieces before she had time to scream.

  Smokey Ashe followed the charge back up the slope, an open run rather than a slow crawl. The Xavier kids had opened at least a temporary hole in the defenses. Smokey didn’t like charging into the unknown without a plan.

  His people had demolition gear, but lacked heavy weapons. Still, Genogoths were nothing if not resourceful, and it was too good an opportunity to pass up. In a few hours, the turrets might be repaired or replaced with something else, and in less time the sun would be up, losing what advantage the little remaining darkness might offer.

  He stopped for a moment to catch his breath. He wasn’t as young as he used to be. Then, ahead of him, he heard a cry of alarm, and another one. He didn’t see any defenses, didn’t hear any shots or explosions, but suddenly he saw people in front of him going down.

  He dropped into a crouch, alert for danger, but the only unusual sound was a wet, greasy, crackling noise. Then he looked down. The ground under his feet was boiling. Or rather something was boiling out of it. Earthworms, grubs, larvae, maggots, soft slimy things by the thousands, the millions.

  Slippery things. Suddenly he was falling, sliding down the steep mountainside. He tried to stop himself, and got only handfuls of slime for his trouble. He rolled, got half his face coated with slime and squirming things, saw that others were sliding down the mountain with him, until the odd tree or rock painfully stopped their progress.

  He rolled again, trying to steer himself away from one of those sudden stops, and saw that this wouldn’t be a problem. He sailed over the ledge and saw the ground thirty feet below. Then he hit leaves, branches slowing his fall. He grabbed, slipped, grabbed again, twisted, fell, and landed solidly on the lower branch of a tree. He clenched his eyes tightly shut and wrapped his arms and legs around it, feeling the blessed loss of motion.

  With luck, some of his ribs were still intact. With luck, there was some part of him unbruised, unscratched. With luck he’d have the taste of worm guts out of his mouth in a week or so. Then Smokey opened his eyes and knew that any luck he Had at the moment was bad.

  The hawk sat on the limb only a yard from him. It contemplated him only a moment before trying to sink its talons in his face.

  Angelo sprinted as fast as he could while holding his arms in front of him. The skin on his fingers shot out, wrapped around a low tree limb, and allowed him to swing up to safety just as the wild pigs squealed by underneath. He pulled himself tightly to the limb and listened to the earphone radio, not believing what he was hearing. He scrambled up onto the limb just as Monet came down to hover just out of the circling pig’s reach. “Did you see that? He asked her. “A flock of pigs just tried to kill me!”

  “The correct collective noun for pigs is a ‘litter,’ not a flock. However these are wild pigs, and the proper collective for boars is a ‘drift,’ so I just don’t know which one applies.”

  “Yeah, whatever. All I know is, hornet attacks, worms, coyotes, skunks, birds, either it’s sweeps week on FOX, or this is our buddy Dog Pound’s doing. He’s got that whole ‘animal telepathy’ thing going.”

  Monet shook her head. “He’s never claimed any special ability to control animals, even one, much less something on this scale.”

  Angelo looked down. “Hey, where’d the pigs go?”

  Something snorted, something big.

  A black paw the size of a dessert plate hit Monet in the stomach and slammed her to the ground.

  Anglo yelped and climbed higher in the tree, as six-hundred pounds of angry black bear perched on M’s back.

  As the snow fell around her and the cybernetic wolf pack tore at her, Paige reflected that it was all turning into some dreary Russian novel. At least for the moment, she was safe, if immobilized. If what she was hearing in her radio was any indication though. Pound’s influence extended far beyond the robot canines. He seemed to have an entire mountain packed with wildlife at his disposal.

  She was more concerned abou
t Jono, who was circling, trying to get a clear shot at the robots with one of his bioblasts, and not watching his own back.

  As for Espeth, she was trying to appeal to the tall figure in blue armor that had to be Chill, and therefore the source of their sudden cold snap. Which was crazy. A few months ago, making a Sno-Kone would have been a taxing demonstration of Chill’s cold powers. How was he doing this? How was Pound commanding a forest full of animals? It didn’t make sense.

  “Listen to me,” Espeth said, “it’s me, Chill. Me. You’ve got to snap out of it. You’ve got to stop this before somebody gets hurt. Before somebody hurts you.”

  So intent was Espeth on Chill, that she didn't see the smallest of the three, Recall obviously, step up behind her. He put out his armored hand and pressed his fingers, almost gently, into her neck. She gasped, her eyes rolled back in her head, and she fell like a marionette with the strings cut.

  Paige shoved a snarling robot out of the way to see what was happening. Obviously Recall’s location powers now extended to finding vulnerable spots, pressure points or nerves that could be disrupted with a touch.

  Jono shouted and ran towards Espeth. Chill turned, lifted his arms, and a shimmering beam of what seemed to be pure cold shot out. Jono cried out, stumbled, and fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes, the energy in his chest dimming like-the coals of a dying fire.

  Chill and Recall, no the two Hounds, grabbed his hands and feet and began to carry him away. There seemed to be nothing of their friends left in these armored terrors, and the very idea gave Paige shivers. What if they were beyond help ?

  Pound turned and left as well, leaving his robots pack to finish things. Paige kicked at one of the cyber-hounds in anger, pushing it away, if only for a moment.

  Then there was a whoosh, and one of the hounds went flying away into the distance. Paige looked up and saw Monet reaching down to grab another one of the things and toss it away. The hounds had barely taken notice of her, but her uniform was already in tatters.

  “Wait!” Ev trotted into view. “If Pound commands these things, I should be able to synch into his power and try to override that.” He seemed to concentrate, then the visible, multi-colored aura that often surrounded him when he was using his powers flared. “Weird—aura,” he gasped. His eyes went wide, and he tumbled flat on his face.

  “Oh,” said Monet, tossing another robot, “that was useful.” The robots seemed to return as fast as she could toss them away.

  “Never mind them,” said Paige, “just pull me out of the pile here.”

  “Without you as a chew toy* said Monet, “they might go after Espeth, or Ev.” She sighed. “Do I have to do everything here?”

  “No,” groaned Ev, rolling over, “you don’t.” He clutched at the skin on his face and husked into something like living granite. He waded into the hounds, and with his help, Paige managed to get to her feet, “I would have synched with M

  again, but getting her synch is more work, and I’m not at my best.”

  The robot dogs suddenly broke off their attack and sprinted off in the direction the three Hounds had gone.

  Paige waved after them. “Follow them, Monet!”

  She flew after them.

  Ev gritted his teeth. “I’m going to try this,” he said. His aura flared momentarily and he rose into the air and flew off jerkily after M.

  Espeth was sitting up and rubbing her neck. She looked at Paige mournfully. “We lost Jono, didn’t we?”

  Paige nodded.

  “Lot of use we were. Especially me.”

  “They’re mutants,” said Paige, “Pretty heavy-duty ones too, somehow. They caught us all off guard. You had nothing to fight back with. You’re just—■” She stopped herself.

  - Espeth smiled weakly. “Just human. It isn’t a dirty word.” The smile faded. “Sometimes human just isn’t enough when the people you care about are in danger.”

  “I’m worried about Jono too.”

  Espeth looked confused. “Well—of course I’m worried about Jono. Chill seems to have really hit him hard, and I feel like it’s my fault. But—you think I have something going on with Jono!”

  “Don’t you?” asked Paige.

  “Paige, Jono is a great guy, but—the reason I turned my back on the Genogoths, everything I believe in.” She licked her lips. Her eyes were moist, and she looked away. “I’m in love with Chill.”

  Paige just sat there, unsure what to say.

  Monet and Ev returned a few minutes later, frowns on their face.

  “The robots didn’t use a door,” said Ev. “Their legs folded up and they slid down something like a pipe. Too small to follow, and we have a feeling that it would lead to a trap anyway.”

  “We don’t know how the Hounds got back in the mountain

  with Jono. There must be a hidden door there somewhere, but we couldn’t find it, and the Genogoths are pulling back.”

  “We can’t just leave Jono in there,” insisted Paige. Espeth agreed.

  Ev shook his head. “Unless you know a way to drill through ten meters of solid rock, it isn’t happening right now. We need to pull back and get a new plan.”

  They heard a roar, then again, closer. Monet lifted off a few meters for a look-see. She groaned. “More black bears,” she said. “I’ve had enough fun with those for one dayf

  Paige frowned. “Then I guess we have to leave. Where are Jubilee and Angelo?”

  “Jubes wiped herself out zapping those turrets, I took her down to the base of the mountain, and Angelo—” He looked puzzled.

  Monet blinked, suddenly looked concerned. “I forgot about.him. Can bears climb trees?”

  Smokey Ashe was a mass of bruises and scratches. He sported nasty cuts on the forehead, right and left cheek, the latter apparently received in an altercation with a hawk. He paced the length of the little notch that served as the Genogoth command post. “We need weapons, Black. I hate to say it, but we do. This isn’t an ‘operation’ or even an ‘assault’ any more, it’s a war, pure and tee. Call it what it is. We’ve always worried that the Dark Times would come. Well, could be they start here, unless we stop ’em. Now.”

  Black nodded grimly. Clearly he respected this man Ashe. ‘Td hoped we’d never be opening the caches, not in my lifetime, but it seems like there’s no choice.”

  Paige and Espeth sat on a rock outcropping high on the side of the notch, watching and listening. Ev and Jubilee had both been left exhausted by the battle, and were napping up among the trees. Monet was standing lookout at the end of the notch. She tried to act unconcerned, but her eyes never left the Hound mountain.

  Paige considered what she’d just seen, and leaned over to Espeth. “What’s he talking about, this ‘cache’ business?” Espeth looked uncomfortable, as though some dark family secret had been brought out of the closet. “The Genogoth way is one of peace where possible, but we don’t assume it will always be possible. For a long time the Genogoths have believed that the world might one day slip over the brink into an apocalyptic age, where violence would rule, and only by fighting to the last man would we have any hope of preserving any of what we seek to protect. For generations, the Genogoths have been hoarding weapons of destruction, hidden in secret enclaves around the world.”

  “So,” asked Paige, “why so glum? They’ll bring in the big

  guns, break our guys out, end of story.” She looked at Espeth expectantly. “Right?”

  Espeth’s head sagged. “These aren’t pop-guns, Paige, they aren’t half-way measures, they’re weapons of last resort, advanced technology, powerful and ugly.” She looked up to make sure Sharpe and Smokey weren’t paying attention to the two of them. “At the same time, I get the feeling that our three enslaved friends are still figuring out their new powers, and that we’ve only seen the beginning of what they can ultimately do. I also believe that the Hound mountain hasn’t played all its defensive cards yet either.” She rubbed her forearm nervously. “Somebody is going to die, and our frie
nds will be right in the crossfire.”

  Paige picked at a rock in the tread of her boot. “Hank McCoy once said to me, ‘when you don’t like the answers you’re getting, ask another question.’ Actually, when Hank said it, he used much bigger words, but that was the gist. Anyway, I’m thinking, what do we want here? We want our friends back, and that other captive mutant, Catfish, too. We didn’t come here to shut this place down, and the Genogoths had to be dragged here kicking and screaming. So why are we building up for a war now?”

  “I give up,” said Espeth, “why?”

  Paige made an unpleasant little sound. “I was hoping you’d know. I was just thinking out loud. You know, if that was all we really wanted, we had the three of them right in front of us today. They could have walked away with us and this all would have been over.”

  “First, they didn’t even seem to know us, and second, it would only be over until the Hound Program went out hunting more mutants to replace our guys.”

  “Mutants we don’t know, hopefully, and that makes it okay.” She growled. “Of course it doesn’t make it okay. I know that. But where does your responsibility end? At the end of your nose, or the edge of the world.” She sighed. “If I ever want to be an X-Man for real, I guess I know the answer. But I also know that, if we could have walked Chill, Recall and

  Pound out of there today, at least they’d be safe while whatever else went down.”

  Paige sat up suddenly. “The question,” she said, “is not how to get from A to B, it’s how to get from A to C, C being a way point on the path to B.” She slid off her perch and looked around to see if anyone was paying attention to them. “Listen, I’m going for a walk. Anybody asks, cover for me.”

  “Walk?” Espeth stared at her. “Where to?”

  “To C,” she said, as she climbed up the side of the notch and disappeared over the top.