Marvel Classic Novels--X-Men

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Marvel Classic Novels--X-Men Page 79

by Christopher Golden


  In the midst of death and devastation, none of the X-Men said a word. When Wolverine looked around again, the Juggernaut had gone.

  Finally, it was over.

  EPILOGUE

  CHARLES Xavier sat in darkness in his study. His thoughts were a burden, his dream, his mission, unforgiving. There would be no rest, no respite, though the X-Men had fought their most precipitous battle, and emerged the victors.

  The war went on.

  Xavier had monitored all that had happened after he had allowed Magneto to return to reality from the Astral Plane. He had witnessed Wolverine’s attack on Magneto, had not interfered. That was his way, to let his people choose their own paths. Taking their choices away would alienate them from him.

  He knew that Wolverine had done the right thing. In some ways, he was proud of Logan.

  But there was another part of him that wondered, merely wondered, whether the world might not have been a far better place if Wolverine had given in to his primal urge.

  Silently, Xavier vowed that the next time the X-Men faced Magneto would be the last. He would find a way to take Magneto out of the game for good, and he would do it himself, so none of the X-Men were left to feel responsible. It was the only way, he knew. The only way for the dream to come true, the only way to assure victory.

  Charles Xavier had determined, not to kill, but in some way to destroy a man who had once been his best friend. What he had yet to consider, what he resolutely refused to consider, was what that decision would cost him.

  * * *

  ON the observation deck of the space station Avalon, 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 such would be the fate of all his kind.

  Slowly, Magneto let out the breath he had been holding. He nodded slightly.

  He had made one final effort to turn his dream of mutant domination into a reality. The X-Men had opposed him, as he had known they would, but in the end, it was Charles Xavier who had won the day. Xavier had triumphed by doing the unexpected, by using his abilities in a way that Magneto had never imagined the man’s delicate philosophical bent would allow.

  So be it. There would be now an entirely new set of rules based upon this latest engagement. Magneto would put all his efforts behind turning Avalon into the sanctuary Haven had not been allowed to become. A massive headquarters in which to build a conquering army. It might take years, but when all was at the ready, they would strike.

  It was only a matter of time. Indeed, the ascendancy of mutants, of homo superior, was an inevitable product of natural evolution.

  Put simply, Magneto planned to speed evolution along.

  * * *

  VALERIE Cooper sat in the Oval Office staring across the long desk at the President. It was the first time she had ever met with the Commander-in-Chief without anyone else present. Despite her bluster and natural confidence, she was nervous.

  “You wanted to see me, sir?” she asked.

  “Yes. Thank you for coming, Valerie,” he answered.

  “You are the President, sir,” she joked.

  He didn’t smile. Not even a little. Val sat up a little straighter and erased the smile from her own face. Apparently, this was not going to be a cordial visit.

  “New York is rebuilding, Valerie,” the President said. “There wasn’t as much damage as there might have been—I don’t have to tell you what might have been, do I? But the cost of rebuilding has been estimated at anywhere between fifteen and two hundred forty-seven billion dollars.”

  Val blanched.

  “I’d no idea,” she said.

  “And when you leave you’ll forget I mentioned it,” the President ordered. “If we’re to keep peace between humans and mutants, avoid a civil war, such things must be downplayed as strongly as possible.”

  “I understand,” she said.

  “I know you do,” the President replied, with the first trace of warmth she had received from him. “What I want to know is, what happened to all the mutants who aided Magneto?”

  “They returned with him to Avalon, sir,” she answered.

  “Not the Acolytes,” he said. “What of the others, the recruits?”

  “Well, we do have several dozen mutants in custody for treason, Mr. President,” Val said. “But I don’t know if they’ll ever get to trial.”

  “That’s not your problem,” the President said sharply. “Those numbers are. There were hundreds of mutants, nearly a thousand according to some estimates, helping Magneto in Manhattan. What happened to all of them?”

  Cooper felt sick. Most of Magneto’s mutant allies had escaped. The President wanted to know where they went.

  “Some left long before the military showed up,” she explained. “Those that looked human melted back into the landscape of the city. Those who didn’t had a more difficult time of it. The forty or so mutants who were captured all had mutations that were apparent. Not a single mutant who looked human was captured. I believe bias got in the way of our efforts sir.”

  There was more to it than that, but Val wasn’t about to tell the President that Police Commissioner Ramos and Trish Tilby had helped many mutants escape. He just didn’t need to know. She could be tried for treason if it were discovered that she knew of it. That was her risk, and she was comfortable with it.

  “Ridiculous,” the President said. “But I don’t have a better explanation, so it will have to do. You may go.”

  “Thank you, Mr. President,” Val said, and rose to leave.

  “Oh, one last thing.”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “It’s over, now,” the President said. “Everything returns to status quo. That includes your situation and your relationship with the Director of Wideawake and with Gyrich.”

  “But, sir,” Val protested. “Gyrich was a—”

  The President held up his hand, and Val’s protest faltered. He was the President, after all.

  “Gyrich is my concern, Cooper,” the President said. “I will deal with him as I see fit. It isn’t your problem anymore, nor is it your business.”

  Val wanted to scream, to demand Gyrich’s punishment. She knew better.

  The best she could do was make a silent vow to herself that she would watch Gyrich very carefully in the future. He was a dangerous man.

  * * *

  SCOTT and Jean stood on the terrace of the Xavier Institute. They stood in silence for quite some time, idly holding hands.

  “They’re doing well,” Scott said, after a bit. “Most of the injuries have healed. We seem to be getting back up to fighting condition.”

  “Mmm,” Jean mumbled noncommittally.

  “What is it?” he asked, and glanced at her, concerned. “Not all of our injuries were physical, Scott,” Jean answered.

  “I know that,” he said. “But the apocalypse didn’t happen, Jean. What with Trish Tilby’s network coverage, the President’s public appreciation, and Magneto’s defeat, well, for the most part, mutant–human relations are no worse off than they were before Magneto decided to play emperor.”

  Jean didn’t respond, only watching the stars with a growing look of concern.

  Jean? Scott thought, knowing that she would telepathically hear him through the psychic rapport they shared. What is it, sweetheart?

  It’s us, Scott. All of us. We went to war. We got a glimpse of the future that Bishop fears so much, and it made us brutal, as brutal as we have ever been, even in the worst of circumstances.

  “After all that’s happened,” she said aloud, turning to look at him finally, meeting his eyes, “I just have to wonder what impact it’s going to have on each of us. Personally, I have been profoundly affected by the past few days. So many mutants responded so quickly to Magneto’s promises, despite his terrorist tactics, that I have to wonder what hope there is for us. For the dream.”

  “Losing your faith? Is that wha
t this is about?” Scott asked.

  “God, no,” Jean said. “I believe with all my heart in what we do. But I wonder who will take up the banner and carry on when we can’t do it anymore. We could all have been killed, Scott. How can we be assured that the fight will continue, when all I want to do is gather up the next generation of mutants and bundle them off somewhere safe? They shouldn’t have to live like this.”

  Scott pulled her close, and Jean let him. They stood like that a moment, the embrace more powerful than any words, any thoughts, they might share.

  “If we do our jobs,” Scott said quietly, “if we fight hard enough, maybe the next generation won’t have to.”

  They kissed, then, a brief and tender kiss, filled with promise.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  FOR their faith, the author would like to thank: Connie and the boys (without whom … ), Lori Perkins, Keith R.A. DeCandido, and the whole family. Also, much thanks to all those who wrote or sent e-mail. It really helps.

  “It’s a long road, and a little wheel, and it takes a lot of turns to get there.”

  —C. Daniels

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  CHRISTOPHER GOLDEN is the New York Times bestselling author of Snowblind, Ararat, Of Saints and Shadows, and many other novels. As editor, his anthologies include Seize the Night, Dark Cities, and The New Dead, among others. Golden has also written screenplays, radio plays, an animated web series, short stories, non-fiction, and video games. He is one-third of the popular pop culture podcast Three Guys with Beards.

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