"All
right," Scott yelled over the bell, "for homework, read over chapters
three and four and do the odd problems on page 112 and 116. I'll be collecting
it on Monday."
Scott's lip quirked at the collective groans with accompanying shuffles of chairs. Yeah, they hate it, he thought, alphabetizing the recent homework stack on the corner of his desk, but they're going to learn it whether they like it or not. The trigonometry would help them gain control over their powers. That was the real reason why he pressed his students so hard.
He caught Rebecca's disgusted grunt in the far right corner of the room but didn't glance up. Even though she hated his class and usually left muttering something unpleasant thinking he never heard her, Scott refused to acknowledge her backtalk. Instead, he used her attitude to press her harder in class--which she hated even more. He hoped that she'd figure it out one day, but apparently today wasn't it. "Blame Ms. Munroe," Rebecca grumbled to her friend. "With her out, 'Beamer' tripled our homework. Shoot. It ain't like we got other classes, or something."
"I'm sayin--! Why can't they figure it out that we've got lives?"
"You know it. They can't see past their b..."
Dionne's words faded as the girls filtered out the rear door. Scott frowned slightly. The kids thought 'Ro was away on a personal emergency, which was half-true, but he still didn't like lying to them. Scott hoped he wouldn't have to for much longer.
"Um…You
asked to see me after class, Mr. Summers?"
His
mind fought to think of another way. Any other way.
Kitty Pryde waited with him, nervously switching the heavy textbooks in her arms
and chewing her lip. Well, it wasn't like anyone ever accused him of having too much
tact. He sighed, scratching his left cheek.
"Ms.
Pryde, what can you tell me about hacking?"
Her
eyes grew huge. "I, um…well--" She fumbled with her math book and
dropped it. "Uh…"
Scott's grim scowl softened into a gentle smirk as he picked her textbook from the floor. "Guess that answers my first question. And I'm guessing both you and Mr. Ramsey know who vandalized the corporate FOH website, last week."
The
girl's face blazed scarlet and Scott almost hated himself for putting her
through the agony. Almost. "That answers the second half of my
question."
He
held up a hand before she fainted on him. "Just make sure you don't do it
again, okay? I'd hate to have them trace that nonsense back to the school. We
could catch a lot of heat from it."
"Oh,
don't worry about that, Mr. Summers," she said quickly. "Doug and I
cooked up a special cloak that—"
She
winced and put her fingers to her lips. If he wasn't sure before, he sure was
now.
Scott
chuckled. "Like I said, Kitty, don't worry about it Just don't hack into
any more private websites, all right? However--" He scratched his chin
cautiously. The professor had wanted him to do this anyway, so it wasn't entirely
deceitful, but still…"Well, I'd like to ask you a favor, if you've got
time."
"A…a
favor, Mr. Summers?"
He sat casually on the edge of his desk and she sat across from him, at full attention. He might have laughed at her military-straight posture had the situation been less serious. "I want to make sure we've got enough security to protect the school, Kitty. We don't need anyone hacking into our private files. And," he said, smirking, "I want to see exactly how you do what you do so I'll know what to look for next time. Are you willing to help me out?"
A
zealous grin spread across her features. "You're giving me permission to
hack into the school's server?"
"Yep.
If you haven't already."
She
folded her arms, offended. "Of course not! What kind of geek do you take me
for? I wouldn't do that. Besides…it'd be too easy to trace."
"Ahhhh,
so that's the real reason."
Kitty
giggled and turned another shade of red, making Scott feel a little better about
what he was about to do. Well, almost.
+ +
+
"…voila!
Instant virus."
Scott
shook his head. He knew enough about computer programming to see the ease of
what Kitty did and he didn't like it. If a child could do this…he shuddered to
think what a seasoned hacker with malicious intent could do.
"You're
not going to release that into the system, are you?"
"Oh,
no! Heck no." She hit Copy and Erase in two quick strokes, and the
code disappeared. "If I released it the school computers would be down for
a week. Or," she said with a small smirk, "only an hour, if Doug and I
fixed it."
"So
you're saying we aren't very secure."
Scott
hovered over her screen and Kitty sighed, turning to look up at him. "Well,
yes and no. You wouldn't find the backdoor unless you were really looking for
it, and it'd take a pretty fair hacker to know where to find it. But once they
found that...Let's put it this way: Our firewalls wouldn't protect us
from Jubilee."
Scott
grimaced. "That bad, huh?"
"Did
you see what happened the last time she touched a computer? *Paf* city.
Whoever installed the security wanted to keep their eyes on us."
Magneto, Scott thought with a grimace. It had to have been after they installed Cerebro, right when they were getting the school systems online. Lensherr could've simply hidden his codes in the upgrades, and no one would've known. Bastard. He'd get Kitty to check the Danger Room sequences later, just in case.
"So…what about the instructor's files?"
"They're
even worse. Yeah, they're password protected, but c'mon. Professor Xavier used a
combination of your codenames with the year you graduated from the school! That
just makes it too easy for a hacker. And it's just plain stupid to do."
She
bit her lip, her cheeks suddenly tingeing. "Uh, well, I mean, I'm not
calling the Professor stupid, he's definitely not. No way. But, er,
I…what I mean is—"
"That's
all right, Kitty," Scott interrupted, reassuring her. He massaged his neck
thoughtfully. "Tell you what. Why don't you, Doug, and I
get together some time next Saturday to update the servers. You can tell me what
we need to do to make changes and then, if needed, we'll buy the necessary
equipment to keep us on track. Call it penance for hacking into FOH."
Kitty grinned. "Oh, it's not penance, Mr. Summers," she said, turning back to the screen. "I dream about doing stuff like this all the time."
"As
long as you use your powers for good." They both chuckled and he squeezed
her shoulder gently. "Go ahead and log out. I'll take it from here."
"All
right. I'll…I'll…um--huh," she said quietly. "That's
strange."
"What's
strange?"
"One
of Ms. Munroe's folders." Her eyes dark eyes glittered as her finger tapped
the screen. "Someone recently downloaded information."
"What? Someone from the school?"
She
shook her head. "It was done off campus, about a month ago. It
doesn't look like they dropped any viruses in it, but they did access the
files."
"Can
you trace the source?"
It
took a minute of her fingers flying across the keyboard before her shoulders
slumped in defeat. "I can't find it. They covered their trail too well."
She swallowed. "Um, Mr. Summers? About that time frame…"
"I
agree, Kitty," Scott said softly. A dozen scenarios began playing in his
head, and none of them good. "Tomorrow. We've got to start on this
tomorrow. Or sooner."
She nodded and slid from her chair. "I just hope it wasn't one of the bad guys who read it," she said quietly.
Me
too, Scott thought, but he
didn't say anything. His jaw tightened, firmly set in Leader Mode. "Go tell
Doug, but don't give this out to anyone else in the school—and make
sure Doug doesn't tell anyone, either. We don't need to set off a panic. "
"Yes, sir." She paused a little, as if to suggest something, but changed her mind and left quickly.
Good
girl, Scott thought. Hopefully
she's innocent enough to not realize that we're already too late. He
waited until she cleared the hallway before sliding into her chair. The rest of
what he was about to do he didn't want her to see.
Bad
enough that 'Ro left two weeks ago, he thought, clicking on her folder, but it
couldn't be a coincidence that her leaving the school followed on the heels of
the most recent download. He typed in her password and viewed a few of the
files…and a chill went down his back. They
hadn't just downloaded any folder. They downloaded her personal folder. Her psyche
folder. And it contained every hang-up, every problem, and every weakness she
had, past and present. Whoever took
it knew exactly what they were looking for. There were twelve files in her
folder, one for each year she'd been at the Institute, and each had been
tampered with. Scott exhaled slowly and read one of Xavier's excerpts from
twelve years ago:
Student:
Munroe, Ororo – Personal Notes #12 (CFX).
June
24
It has taken time, but Ororo finally opened up to me about some of her past. I had my suspicions, since I had access to her police records, but the records barely skimmed the surface. She reveled in her thieving exploits. Her passion for them showed beneath her calm exterior. I hope the school will replace this identity. Otherwise, I might have to keep track of stolen items throughout the school....
She hesitated before telling me the rest of what she'd done. "You may not want me here," she told me. It was the first time that her arrogant facade dropped from my presence, uncovering the frightened child beneath. "Go on," I told her. "Nothing you mention will cause me to reject you." Her eyes watched me for a moment, weighing my words with the truth. "The police records do not show everything."
The poor girl lowered her head, unable to voice the words. Instead, she dropped her mental shields...and let me see what she did to several men. Unfortunately I audibly gasped from the unexpectedly violent mental assault. She mistook my surprise for condemnation and nearly left my office in tears. I had to convince her that she merely surprised me. No, I did not like what she had done, but I understood, and she was still welcome to stay. I wonder...had she not acted in self-defense, would my response towards her have changed--? Would it have been a reaction of fear for the school, and for the other children? If unrepentant, the murderess beneath the glacier surface would have been formidable, indeed....
Our
talk went well. Brilliance shines beneath her bravado (I have no doubt
that once she applies herself she will be one of the most intelligent students
here, if not the top student) but she is a very lonely girl. She trusts few but
she would certainly give her life for those she trusts. I would hope that she
eventually allows others experience her love of life and her exuberance for
nature, but she refuses to reach out, fearing that the others will stumble upon
the murderous truth of her past life. She fears being hurt again. She needs to
realize that the past is simply the past, and that we accept her. Perhaps one
day soon she will realize –
"--how
much we truly care about her," Professor Xavier added softly. Scott lowered
his head and tapped the desk with his index finger. He wasn't surprised that
Xavier had been listening to his thoughts.
A
small, sad frown piqued the corners of the Professor's lips as the sound of his
wheelchair entered the server room. "You could have asked, Scott."
Scott
shoved the terminal from him and rose stiffly. "Would you have told
me?"
"Not
in so many words, no," Xavier said. He reached out cautiously, but Scott,
still furious, recoiled from his touch. "As much as I wished to convince
her otherwise, Ororo wanted it this way ."
"That
makes putting her in danger okay?"
"No,
it doesn't." Xavier's eyes hardened. He roamed over the computer screen,
seeing things that Scott did not. "If I had known the school's server had
been breached, I might have allowed you to follow her."
"Someone planned this," Scott muttered. He let out a breath, allowing the anger to rush from his gut in one quick sound. "And they did a damn good job of it, considering they knew exactly how to set her up. Professor--"
"Say
no more," Xavier said quietly. His sad eyes met Scott's at last. "I
agree. We must reach her, somehow. Hopefully she will understand the peril, and
the reason I had to breach our confidence."
"I
thought she wasn't answering you."
"She's
not," Xavier said, unconsciously mimicking Scott's sigh. "But perhaps
she will listen to Logan. If he can reach her first, perhaps she will accept his
words and go with him."
"Pretty
big 'perhaps,'" Scott said, raising his eyebrow. "If I were her, I
wouldn't trust him."
Charles
stared at him coldly. "I don't see that we have much of a choice. Do
you?"
Scott
frowned. No, he didn't. At least, not until he found her himself. Then, by hell
or high water, he'd make her listen, if he had to drag her back by her white
hair like a caveman to do it.
* *
*
Ororo's
sleep was shattered by a cold voice through her wall. In her sleep, the voice
had crested from a lulling murmur to guttural barks, and upon waking she
realized it wasn't a dream. She touched the wall softly. Remy was on the
telephone, she could hear him. Her fingers caressed the wall as if she could
soothe his mind telepathically, but his voice still sounded strained. Hard. As
if the streets had stripped his charm and left a shell behind.
"Va
te faire foutre. Eh? Pas mon problème,
homme. C'est votre problème.
Vou—" he paused slightly. His voice softened, melted, smoothed. Became
like silk. Became like twenty-year-old scotch. "Désolé.
Un moment."
The
phone was gently laid on its side. A door opened, a floorboard creaked. She
turned to her door, seeing his body lazily blocking her doorframe, seeing his
freshly tousled hair and rakish smile bidding her good morning like an angelic
Catholic choir boy. Well. Perhaps a naughty choir boy.
"Sorry,
padnat. Didn't mean t'wake you wit dat nonsense."
"It was no trouble, Remy," Ororo said. She unconsciously wrapped her sheet closer to her body, unsure why she suddenly felt so shy. He had seen her naked before, but she was a girl then. And he never seemed quite so close. "Please, don't stop on my account. Finish your conversation."
"Ah, he c'n wait. He's an idiot." Remy's face floundered a little, seeing her bare arm, but he turned to the side and lit a cigarette. "Sorry 'bout dis, chere, but we gotta take off earlier than I planned."
"Oh?" She grabbed the robe on the edge of her bed and quickly wrapped it around her body. He seemed to instinctively know when she was decent and glanced up just as she tightened the belt about her waist.
"Someone's gettin' nosy."
"I see. Where are we going?"
He shrugged and blew a long, lingering trail of smoke from his nostrils. It hung in the air like a thick fog, enshrouding him in gray shadows. "Can't say."
"You don't know?"
"Didn't say dat." He ground the new cigarette beneath his boot and caught her eye. His eyes seemed determined and purposeful. Cold. "You with me, or against me, chere?"
"With you, of course." She rose from the bed and stood inches from his face. "I said I would be with you, despite the dangers. And I always keep my word."
He stared at her a beat longer and glanced over his shoulder, surveying the old cracked window with the diamond crystal pendant. He whispered his words. "A friend of yours been sniffin' around here. I think he don't like the idea of you hangin' out with the likes of me. You willin' to go against him?"
She blinked. She should have expected someone to follow her, but the truth of it hadn't hit until now. Her fairytale week suddenly collided with the cesspool of truth.
His eyes were suddenly boring into hers. She hadn't noticed how hard he was scrutinizing her every nuance while she examined his words. She nodded.
"It's none of their business." The ruthlessness in her voice surprised them both. "I have chosen. Should they choose to oppose me…well, I will explain the best I can. But I will not abandon you, Remy." She held up her pinky. "In for a penny."
The harsh lines around his jaw softened sadly. He hooked her pinky within his and squeezed tightly. "In f'r a pound." He nodded, the decision made. "Hurry up an' get dressed. Soon as I get dis moron off de phone, we're outta here."
"Parfait," she said, and he smiled at her accented Louisiana French.
"Bon."
"Remy," she said, hesitating. He was halfway between his room and hers, and he answered her over his shoulder.
"Oui?"
She slowly began loosening her robe tie. "Who…who was it? Who came after me?"
His next words were spoken from the wall between them, echoing in the narrow corridor. "Mean, tough ol' gator. Kept snarlin' at everybody like some kinda damn loup-garou."
Her eyes narrowed. She wasn't sure if she was furious, or secretly pleased with Xavier's choice. The old man was clever. She gave him points for that. But that was all she would give him.
"Hmm." She sighed softly. "He won't stop until he gets what he wants. Wolverine has an incredible healing factor and claws—"
"I know...we heard 'bout dem pig stickers," Remy said distantly. "Chere, I'm gonna finish dis call. Don't worry 'bout Walkin' Wolfboy. I got it covered."
Don't hurt him, she thought, but didn't say it.
Of all of them, she worried what Logan would think of her the most. She had the least to lose if he discovered the truth, but he would misjudge the situation. He did not know her well enough to give her the benefit of the doubt. She hated to play the villain with such a recently acquired friend, but if she would, if she had to.
* * *
He glared at the ramshackle building through a halo of cigar smoke. It took threatening three people with unpleasant death scenes to get here, but he found it. Couldn't figure why they were all torn up about givin' him the address. It wasn't like the place was decent. Food smelled good, though.
"Come out, come out, wherever you are," he muttered, fondling the cigar in his fingers.
Logan had taken it slow after his initial upsets in town but his presence had been noted. He'd kicked up enough of a fuss that whoever he was following probably had some muscle waiting for him inside. No matter. He absently rubbed his knuckles. He knew how to take care of them.
He sighed deeply and shut his eyes. Taking in 'Ro's delicate scent made him pleasantly lightheaded. Sandalwood, flowers, and ozone clung to the perimeter, and...dammit. His eyes snapped open. Trash. The town had finally cleaned enough of its garbage that he caught brief hints of her scent wafting in the rougher sections of the town, but it took deep sniffs and he still had to rifle through the stench. Luckily, with patience, he'd found what he wanted. The showdown was this ugly place. It had to be.
Half of him wanted to rush in and rescue her like some lame-ass prince charming. The other half of him, the smarter half, had been watching the building since four a.m. One light went on about four-forty five, and it galvanized his nerves. He was itching for some action, now. Especially after finding out that the danger might have doubled. Xavier contacted him yesterday and told him to be careful, told him that there was more to it now than just getting Ororo to go back home. Something about her being in peril. So? He answered. Someone's always in peril. We're the damn peril police. What else is new?
Xavier didn't answer that one. Just be careful, he'd sent. Ororo doesn't realize the danger, and she may choose to fight you .Try to keep her calm until we arrive.
Think I can't handle her, Chuck?
Xavier smiled through their mindlink. I don't know. How well can you conduct lightning?
Logan broke contact with him after that.
"At least I've chosen a side." Logan grunted. "Yeah, right, sister." Here he was, thinkin' she was all pious Miss Perfect, and she wasn't any better than he was. Worse, maybe. He didn't go around pretending to be something he wasn't. He didn't sweep his messes under the carpet. Was that what bugged him about the whole scenario? That she hadn't been honest with him from day one? They were his family, he kept telling himself. He was protecting them. An' one of 'em hadn't been honest and deserved an old-fashioned ass-whupin'. But...that answer wasn't the total story, was it? Why wasn't it? He wasn't sure he wanted the answer.
He looked up again and saw a shadow hover at the window before moving to another room. He'd been careful to remain hidden, but he could feel those eyes watching him. They both knew the other was watching. At this point, Logan didn't care. He wanted him to come. Wanted to vent his pent-up aggression. Summers and Red were supposed to back him up later that morning, but he wasn't about to wait. They were on the move, and he wasn't going to waste time waiting for the Campfire Girls to save the day. Better to keep the trail fresh, then to wait…wait—
He sniffed the air cautiously, suddenly aware of an intrusive scent. "What the hell--?"
No, he thought. No! No
way in flamin' hell—!
Logan popped his claws, but the delay in recognizing the scent cost him. He felt a tap on his shoulder.
"Damn, Wolvie. Forgot
about me already."
He spun around and missed his instinct's warning. An additional scent tingled at
the back of his mind. His instinct was shouting Look Behind You,
but fury clouded his judgment.
"We end this now," Logan spat.
"Oh, I quite agree," a second voice said. The second voice was the
last thing he heard before his mind tumbled into darkness.