Siege

by Christopher Golden

  X-MEN

  — Mutant Empire —

  Book I

  Siege

  by Christoper Golden

  Edited & Proofread

  by Dhevi

  Ver 1.3

  Prologue

  Cloaked from all detection by its extraordinary technology, the space station Avalon described an elliptical orbit around the Earth. On her observation deck, a gleaming metal platform with little ornamentation to warm the cold expanse of space, Eric Magnus Lehnsherr stood alone, gazing down at the planet of his birth with a heavy heart. He was no longer welcome on Earth. More than a man without a country, he was a man without a world. And he feared that such would be the fate of all his king.

  Eric Lehnsherr was a Mutant

  He was not an uncommonly large man, standing just over six feet tall and weighing just unter two hundred pounds, but there was a quiet fury about him that gave even the bravest soul pause. His eyes were the blue-grey of an impending storm, his long hair an extraordinarily perfect white. Defined by his command, of himself and others around him, he was not given to frivolous commentary or physical expression. Still, he allowed himself a low sigh, a shake of his head, and then his hand came up to stroke his smooth chin.

  Lost in contemplation, in waves of hope and grim determination, he barely noticed the hiss of expelled air as a door slid open behind him. There was no danger to him, here. On Avalon, he was...

  "Lord Magneto, you summoned me," Exodus said reverently.

  Magneto felt a moment of regret for the day he chose that name. In his anger, his need to present himself to the world as a being of power, he had abandoned the name his parents had given him. It had set him apart from the humans, made them fear him all the more. But it had also made it easier for them to hate. That distance, that difference, also existed in the hushed reverence with which his Acolytes treated him. Fear, hatred, reverence ... Magneto wondered if he would ever grow used to them, or the solitary world they had built around him.

  Exodus stood silently, patiently awaiting whatever response Magneto might provide. His robes flowed around him, reminding Magneto of a purple and black butterfly, such a contrast to the hard shell of crimson that he himself wore.

  "Your tone reveals your hope that I have finally come to my senses, Exodus," Magneto said. "I'm sorry to inform you that I remain dedicated to the Empire Agenda."

  "MY lord," Exodus gasped, "you know that I would never think to question your will. I have not ..."

  "Yes, yes, I know," Magneto assured him. "You have no fear that I will question your loyalty. Yet I know that you disapprove of this endeaver. Don't think for a single moment that I don't know, and understand, your feelings on this subject."

  Magneto walked to Exodus, whose eyes were downcast, and laid a hand on the other's shoulder.

  "Avalon will continue to be a haven away from Earth for those mutants who accept our invitation, our challenge to live free," Magneto said reassuringly. "And you, my friend, will continue to be the ferryman who guides those lost souls to their new lives, and the chief protector, other than myself, of all who reside here."

  Exodus nodded, but did not appear relieved.

  "Please, Exodus, enough of this propriety!" Magneto said in frustration. "Ask the questions that weigh so heavily on you."

  "I know it isn't my place, Magneto, but it all seems so unnecessary," Exodus explained. "We have Avalon. What is keeping us from abandoning the Earth entirely?"

  Magneto realized that Exodus simply could not comprehend his plans, and resolved to change that. True, Exodus would follow his orders to the letter, no matter what they might be, and he owned no one an explanation of his actions. But what good was blind obedience? Whoever followed him, Magneto vowed, would not do so in ignorance. That was the human way.

  "We are the next step in evolution," he began, and turned to look back out at the vacuum of space, and the blue world spinning below. "We are homo sapiens superior. It is the destiny of the species currently referred to as 'humanity' to die out, to be replaced by our kind. It is natural that they should fear us, for we are the harbinger of their doom.

  "I have spent my life trying to carve a place in the world for mutants. By natural law, we ought to the be sovereighn race on this world. It is inevitable. Time and again, my efforts have been thwarted by Charles Xavier and his X-Men. Mutants themselves, these so-called heroes have naively worked toward Xavier's dream that mutants and humans can peacefully co-exist."

  He paused, but when he spoke again, he no longer seemed to be speaking to Exodus.

  "Xavier is a madman," Magneto said, a strange sadness in his tone. "What creature ever embraces entropy? How can any rational being live side by side in harmony with the evidence of its impending death?"

  "Yes, lord," Exodus agreed. "But what you say only strengthens the case for Avalon as the have for all mutants until we are strong enought to take the entire Earth, or until the humans begin to destroy themselves. Why continue to struggle for a refuge on Earth when we have one in the heavens?"

  "Why indeed?" Magneto asked himself, a wistful smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He brushed an errant lock of white hair from his face, then spun to look at Exodus once more.

  "I must try, don't you see?" he asked, suddenly vehement. "That ball of dirt and water spinning down there is our home, Exodus. We have a right to it as they next rung of the evolutionary ladder. The Earth is my home, for better or worse. Every moment of happiness, every ounce of agony, sprang from its soil. To abandon it to the new dream of Avalon means putting my vision of an Earth ruled by mutantkind on hold for an indefinable time.

  "That may be what is necessary for the vision to become truth. If so, I am prepared for it. But before I am able to reconcile myself to that decision, I have to make one final effort to create a haven for mutants on Earth now, today! I put the Empire Agenda in place several years ago for just such an attempt. The moment has arrived. Do you understand that?"

  Exodus cast his gaze at the floor again, and nodded. "Yes, lord," he said. "I realize how foolish I was. Your courage is equaled only by your vast love and compassion for your fellow mutants. I am ashamed to have questioned you. What may I do to atone for my doubts?"

  Magneto smiled now, like a proud and indulgent father. "The only think I ask of you, Exodus, is to continue to populate Avalon with the seeds of the future of mutantkind and to protect her with your life until my return."

  "It shall be done, lord," Exodus said.

  "Excellent," Magneto responded. "Now, please gather the Acolytes who will accompany me to Earth, and send Voght to me immediately."

  When Exodus left, Magneto's spirits had risen considerably. Though he was born there, Exodus had no interest in Earth, but Magneto had been able to make him realize what the Empire Agenda meant to all mutants. To have faith. Faith was important. Magneto intented to carve a mutant haven out of the Earth, and from there begin a campaign to gradually take the entire planet. For the mission to succeed, all of his Acolytes had to be as confident as he was.

  There was a rustling behind him, like the wind in the fallen leaves, and Magneto turned to see the psychically projected image of the Acolyte called Scanner shimmer into existence.

  "Yes, Scanner?"

  "Voght has arrived, lord," Scanner said, but did not wait for a response. Magneto watched as her psionic holo-body disappeared.

  The door hissed open and Amelia Voght was there. She was a beautiful woman, with a mane of auburn hair that Magneto found quite alluring. There was nothing romantic about their relationship, yet there was a certain undeniable intimacy between them. unlike the other Avolytes, Voght did not worship him as her lord and master. She believed in him and his vision, certainly, but when she spoke to him, particulary without the others around, it wa
s with a familiarity that Magneto found refreshing.

  "You rang?" she asked as she stepped into the observation deck.

  "We will depart for Earth momentarily, Amelia," Magneto said. "I thought it best to take you aside to inform you that I have decided to appoint you field leader for the duration of this operation."

  Voght was clearly stunned, and uncharacteristically speechless. The effect didn't last long, however.

  "I'm grateful, Magneto," she said. "I'm assuming you've taken into consideration that the others will be less than pleased, particularly Unuscione?"

  "I have confidence in you, Amelia," Magneto said. "Now, shall we-begin to enact the Empire Agenda?"

  "Absolutely," Voght said, her voice rising with excitement. "It isn't every day you get to hold a planet hostage, after all."

  • • •

  It was just past seven o'clock in the morning, but the Rocky Mountains were alive with activity. Birdsong filled the air, the wind whipped through the trees, and animals prowled throughout the region. In a remote section of Colorado, on one of the many large sections of land the federal government still owned, a long, open field was surrounded by a touch-sensitive electrified fence, trimmed with razor wire. Inside the fence, a tiny bull's-eye on "theopen field,was a two-story gray brick structure that would appear, to the uninitiated, as nothing more than an office building.

  Beneath the field, however, there was something more.

  A crackling sound drowned out the birds and the breeze and the choking stench of burning rubber suddenly filled the air, and was joined by the smell of scorched grass. Though it wasn’t more than seventy degrees, the air above the field warped and shimmered as if it were a summer swelter over heat-wave-baked pavement. There was a loud, echoing bang, like the crack of a rifle, and birds fluttered in flocks from treetops around the perimeter of the fence.

  Magneto and the Acolytes had arrived.

  “You realize, my lord, that I could have teleported us here as easily as the technology of Avalon,” Voght said with a trace of annoyance.

  Magneto turned, facing the zealous followers he had chosen for this mission, and nodded patiently. He wore the crimson helm that had covered his head, hidden his face, for so many years. It had come to represent terror.in the hearts of so many humans, and majesty in the minds of the Acolytes.

  “The last thing I want, Amelia,” he said after a pause, “is for you to expend energy needlessly.” He lifted his arms to include all of them. “Before this is over, each of you will be taxed to your limits. We must work together, or the dream will fail. Now, let us begin.”

  The Acolytes tensed, moving into offensive positions in preparation for the moment when Magneto lowered their cloaking shield, allowing the base’s security sensors to register their presence for the first time. He surveyed the team he had chosen for this mission, and decided that he had chosen well. They looked organized and strong in their navy and crimson uniforms, and danger crackled in the air around them like heat lightning.

  Senyaka’s face was hidden, as always, behind the cowl he were, but Magneto did not need to see his face to know the blood lust in the man’s heart. Senyaka held a psionic whip, created by the power of his mind, which hummed with a paralyzing current not unlike electricity. Its every coil and snap was controlled by the Acolyte’smind and Magneto allowed himself a moment’s sympathy for those who would feel the sting of Senyaka’s zeal.

  Next to him stood Milan.who was invaluable to the Empire Agenda. Milan stood quietly, eyes covered by a visor whose sensors helped him to process incoming information instantly. His brain was like a computer, and could access both human and artificial intelligence, flesh and machine, with equal expediency.

  Magneto allowed himself a slight smile at the sight of the powerhouse Joanna Cargil, once known as Frenzy, attempting to contain her hyperactive personality. Cynical by nature, the black woman had nevertheless become one of the most devout among the Acolytes. She stood next to Javitz, who was equally powerful. At nearly nine feet tall, the gold headset and shoulder armor they all wore made him look even more imposing. The only flaw in the giant’s form was the bandage he wore to cover his useless left eye.

  The Kleinstock brothers, Harlan and Sven, guarded their flank. The twins had once been triplets, but the third brother, Eric, had been lost on one of the Acolytes’ missions. Their power, hideous as it was, had been cut by one third then, but they were still effective. Unfortunately, the twins rarely thought ahead, and had to be kept tightly reined.

  Voght was in the front—where she belonged as field leader—despite the displeased grunts with which several of the others had greeted the news of her appointment.

  By her side was perhaps the most dangerous of the Acolytes, and the one most startled and chagrined by Magneto’s choice of Voght, Unuscione. With the psychic exoskeleton her mind constantly emitted to defend her body, she was untouchable. She was even more dangerous, however, because she could bend, shape, and extend that shell as she wished, using it to capture, crush, or pummel an enemy.

  They were young, yes. Magneto had seen too many young mutants lose their lives in this struggle. But they believed with all their hearts, and he could not have asked lor a more dedicated team for this mission. He was proud to stand with them, though their near worship of him must ever keep him apart from them as well. All but Voght.

  “Amelia,” he said softly, “on your word.”

  Her eyes widened, the honor of command still taking her by surprise. Then she nodded almost imperceptibly, and barked out her orders.

  “Cargil, Javitz, on the point. Kleinstocks through the back. Senyaka and Unuscione on the flank and Milan with me. On my word, shields down and attack,” she . snarled, then paused a moment.

  “Go!” Voght yelled.

  Alarms shattered the air as the shields dropped. They moved as one toward the small building. Previously concealed weapons stations began to fire a tightly woven pattern of plasma bolts and laser bursts across the field. Harlan Kleinstock took several out with a plasma blast from his hands before Magneto caused the rest to simply explode with nothing more than a dismissive gesture and a light electromagnetic pulse, generated on a specific wavelength.

  Javitz and Cargil didn’t bother knocking, choosing instead to simply crash through the front of the building. A heartbeat later, the Kleinstocks blew the. rear wall out. As Voght and the others approached, Magneto held back, waiting to see what the next move would be. At the center of the nearly destroyed building was a massive, square, vault-like structure, perhaps eight feet wide, high and deep. To-the right of the doors, which resembled those of an elevator, was a slot for a keycard and a keypad, which clearly implied a combination of some kind.

  “Milan,” Voght barked. “Open it.”

  Magneto was pleased. Most of the others would have simply smashed the vault, but there might be security or defense measures that could hold them up, or it might conceivably be tough enough to slow their advance just a little. Sometimes the light touch was the best way to proceed.

  Milan walked calmly to the door, his dark, angular features only intensifying the oddness of the arrow-.head tattooed on his forehead, pointing down at the bridge of his nose. He reached out a gloved hand and lightly touched the keypad next to the door, but did not enter any numbers.

  “My friend,” Milan said to the computer. “I would be very grateful if you would let us inside.”

  There was a pause, and the mutant cocked his-head as if listening to a ghostly voice none of the others could hear. After a moment, Milan spoke again.

  ”Certainly,” he said. “I would be pleased to speak with you again when our business here is concluded, I know how lonely it must get.”

  With a rushing sound like the fall of a guillotine, the door slid open.

  “Thank you,” Milan said calmly, and moved into the shaft before addressing the others. “We will be taken to the main complex, but there will most certainly be guards waiting there for us.”

 
“Good!” the Kleinstock brothers said in unison.

  The lift, a large, armored elevator, dropped rapidly down the shaft and came under fire the moment it appeared in the main complex area, though the guards doing the actual shooting must have known their plasma bursts would not penetrate the lift’s armored shell.

  When the doors opened, Magneto stepped forward, motioning for the Acolytes to wait a moment. The predetermined schedule and his own impatience demanded that not another moment be spared. He set up an e-m field around himself, which deflected the many shots that now assaulted him. At his most imperious, Magneto raised his arms as if conducting a symphony, and each of the guards—he counted an even dozen—jumped back as their firearms shattered in their hands.

  Unuscione was the first out of the elevator, in advance of Voght’s signal, and he made a mental note to punish her later for that transgression. With her psionic exoskeleton forming a huge battering ram, she reached out with her mind and slammed the woman who appeared to be captain of the guard into a low cement wall and held her there.

  “Listen up, flatscans!” Unuscione yelled. “As much as it pains us to say it, none of you have to die here today. All you have to do is leave, immediately and without a word, and you will live.”

  “You’re dealing with the U.S. Army here, mutant scum,” the captain croaked. “Withdraw now, or there’ll be hell to pay.”

  “Don’t you worry about us, G.I. Jill,” Unuscione said. “I’ve been paying that bill since the day I was born.”

  The green energy that formed Unuscione’s exoskeleton changed shape then, twisting, folding, and snapping the captain in two with a sickening crunch.

  “Die, you mutie freaks!” a soldier screamed as he leaped for Unuscione, singling her out for her actions even though his comrades stood frozen with fear and horror. Though her exoskeleton shielded Unuscione from any such attack, Cargil stepped forward, cornrowed hair jingling with her movement, and slammed her fist into the soldier’s chest, shattering his ribcage. The man crumpled to the ground, wheezing in pain. He would not live out the hour.