The Game of Empires - REVIEW THIS STORY

Written by Valerie Jones
Last updated: 02/13/2010 03:54:13 PM

Chapter 18

Logan took the question to be an invitation and stepped up beside the young mutant. From there, he had a good view of the grounds behind the mansion and the two women who sat in the middle of the lawn. The one that had drawn Marrow’s comment was cradled in Ororo’s lap, sobbing.

Logan considered the many different replies he could make, but then shrugged. "There’s nothin’ wrong with her. She just hurts."

He felt a small stab of satisfaction as Marrow stiffened. The Morlock was very vocal in her opinion that tears or any other display of humanity was a sign of weakness.

Marrow snorted in disgust. "Over the Genetraitor. She should be happy she rid the world of him." Her blue eyes were hard and lined with pain as she stared out into the afternoon.

Logan watched her reaction with interest. "The man did save yer life," he offered softly. He had the strangest feeling that there was a great deal more buried inside those eyes than hatred over the deaths of her family.

Marrow came back to herself with a small start and turned toward Logan, her gaze narrowing. "I would rather have died with my people."

Logan frowned. Her people. There was that wording again. She displayed a tremendous loyalty to the Morlocks as a group, but other than Callisto, he had never heard her utter a single name of someone she cared about on a personal level.

"What about yer parents? Did they die that night?"

Marrow’s eyes jerked away from his. "No." She flexed her fingers against her biceps in reflection of an internal argument. "My mother... didn’t want me. Callisto told me so."

For a moment, Logan had a glimpse of the lost and lonely teenager inside her. "What about yer father?"

Everything about Marrow went still. "I don’t remember," she said so flatly that Logan was certain she was lying.

He arched an eyebrow. "That’s too bad, darlin’," he answered. "I’d ‘ve like ta hear about him."

Marrow stared out the window and didn’t answer, deliberately ignoring him with such fierceness that Logan began to suspect she was fighting tears. He watched her for a while, looking for some hint that she might give in and say something, but he knew better than to push her. She was liable to react with both anger and violence in an attempt to hide her "weakness", and that would only make it harder to reach out to her in the future.

Finally, he gave up and turned away. He was almost to the door when her pale whisper reached him.

"We lived in the sun."

Rogue slowly sat up and wiped away the last of the tears from her face. For the moment, she kept her eyes turned away, embarrassed by her outburst. She had only meant to apologize to the older woman, to say she was sorry for taking away a dear friend, but the moment she’d opened her mouth, everything that she’d held inside for the last three months came boiling out in a torrent of words and emotions.

"How do you feel now, Rogue?" Ororo’s question was soft but searching, and in response Rogue heaved a sigh. She hated crying, especially with an audience, but she couldn’t deny that she’d needed the release.

"Ah don’t know, sugah. A lil’ better, ah guess." She picked at her dampened gloves. "They say there ain’t no good in grievin’ ‘til someone’s there ta share it with ya." She paused, then forced herself to look up into Ororo’s calm blue eyes.

"Why don’t ya hate me, ‘Ro?"

A wistful smile flickered across Ororo’s face. "Because I do not believe Remy is dead."

Rogue’s breath caught in her throat as Ororo shrugged. "But even if that were true, I would not hate you."

Rogue fought the sudden flicker of hope that threatened to burst into fiery life inside her. She didn’t want to go through the pain of having that hope dashed again. Everything that she had seen and done said that Remy LeBeau could not possibly still be alive, and she didn’t think she would ever be able to get on with her life unless she accepted that fact.

So instead of asking Ororo why she believed that, Rogue simply nodded. "Thank you."

Ororo watched her with obvious curiosity. "You are welcome."

Rogue ignored the question in the other woman’s eyes. It was time to put the past to rest, if such a thing was possible. She had finally admitted the truth to the X-Men and they hadn’t banished her for it, so maybe now it was time to start looking for a way to come to terms with what she had done and somehow find a way to start living again. If only she knew how.

Rogue made a helpless gesture. "Ah don’t know what to do now."

"What do you mean?"

Rogue looked up into the sky, wishing desperately she could read the answers in the scattered clouds. "Ah know ah can’t make up f’ what ah did. It’s always gonna be with me. Ah just wish ah could..." She trailed off, unable to find words to complete the thought.

Ororo plucked a wildflower from amid the badly overgrown lawn and twirled it between her fingers.

"What would Remy want you to do?"

Rogue bit her lip against a fresh stab of pain. She would trade her soul for the chance to ask him. The question turned over and over in her mind, demanding an answer.

Finally, a tremulous smile touched her lips. "Ah think... Ah think he’d tell me not ta make the same mistakes the next time ah... meet someone." She could almost hear his gentle teasing, challenging and encouraging her to surrender her heart. Even in the end, she’d given him only her body and her passion -- not her love. The walls of her fear were too thick for that, and she had been unwilling to give up the last layer of protection around her heart. Now, knowing what would happen when her rejection was mixed with his own self-loathing, she wished desperately that she could have the chance to go back and live that night over again.

She knew that was impossible, though, no matter how much she wanted it. The only chance she had was in the future, with someone else. The thought of another relationship was enough to turn her stomach, but perhaps in time... in time she could find a way to bring good from the bad, and give meaning to the death of someone she would always love.

She sighed resolutely. Remy would expect no less from her.

Charles gave Lilandra’s hand a small squeeze as she reached over to twine her fingers with his. Her expression lightened minutely, but then returned to the solemn, composed mask she had worn since she had awakened. Charles sighed silently and swept his gaze once more around the confines of the small cell. His relief at seeing Scott and Jean alive was mingled with regret for seeing them collared and chained, and the underlying wariness he sensed from them left a knot of pain in his heart. Remy, too, was watching him with that same mistrust, but his attention was split between Charles and the Summers, as if he wasn’t certain which of them might be the greater danger. Charles was horrified by the thought that he and his X-Men seemed to be united only by the common threat of Erik the Red.

Each of them was manacled at hand and foot, with a power suppression collar around their necks. But there was other evidence that Erik knew quite a bit about them. Scott’s glasses were gone so that even were he to have his powers returned, he wouldn’t be able to make effective use of them, and Remy’s hands were encased in solid spheres of metal as if to prevent him from picking the locks on their chains. Gladiator was the only one of them that was not chained. Instead, he appeared to be encased in a stasis field of some kind. Charles could see the muscles in his neck flexing as he strained against the force field that held him, but to no avail. Whatever technology was incorporated into the base on which Gladiator stood, it was sufficient even to overcome his tremendous strength.

Charles looked up sharply as footsteps approached the door to their cell and then stopped. Some of the hostility in the little room evaporated as they focused on the man who stepped through the door, his gloating grin unchanged from the last time Charles had seen him.

"How fortunate that you’re all awake." Erik’s gaze swept the room, resting briefly on each of them. Charles was a little surprised to see that he was alone, but perhaps he felt confident enough of their imprisonment that he didn’t feel the need to have any of his pets with him.

Finally, Erik’s gaze settled on Charles, full of cruel amusement, but his words were directed toward the others. "This should be a most... enlightening day. Don’t you agree, Charles?"

Charles felt a rush of fear and did his best to throttle it. He needed to have a clear head and keep his wits if he wanted to have any hope of protecting the many secrets he held. Charles could think of a number of things that Erik might want to know, beginning with information about the mutant underground and ending with the deliberate manipulation of the timeline that Charles had been involved in for the past thirteen years. The price for exposing any of that information would, at the very least, be the lives of those involved. His only consolation was the fact that Erik would have little luck trying to extract the information from him telepathically. The mental walls that Charles had built over the years, layer upon layer of protection and misdirection, were still in place. They would eventually erode with the passage of time since he no longer possessed the power to reinforce them, but for now they were just as solid as when he had been the foremost telepath on the planet.

Fortified by that knowledge he met Erik’s gaze, letting his silence be his answer.

Erik only chuckled. "Such bravery!"

He stepped forward, coming to a stop beside Remy, who was closest to the door. "Don’t worry, Charles, I have no intention of trying to penetrate those mighty telepathic shields of yours. However, I am curious about a number of things, so I suppose I will have to find some other way to convince you to reveal what you know."

The almost friendly tone made Erik’s words seem even more menacing. Scott and Jean were both staring at Charles with barely concealed dismay, as if Erik had confirmed a suspicion in their minds and they were now waiting with dread to hear Charles admit to it. Gambit, too, seemed to share their suspicion, though he didn’t give off the same sense of hurt that the other two did.

Erik had no trouble reading their expressions. He looked over at Cyclops and Phoenix for a moment, then turned back to Charles.

"It seems I’m not the only one, am I?"

Charles took a steadying breath, his gaze on Erik, but his attention focused on the three X-Men. "I have been in government custody for a long time. There is no way for me to know what rumors, and perhaps even lies, have been spread about me in my absence."

Gambit’s eyes narrowed fractionally. "Don’ t’ink dis got much t’ do wit’ government disinformation, Professor."

"Silence!" Erik roared and backhanded Gambit with enough force to knock him to the ground.

In the stunned silence that followed, Remy slowly raised himself onto his elbows, shaking his head to clear it. Then he looked up at Erik, the expression in his eyes hard with anger.

"Somehow I doubt y’ really care all dat much about de Morlocks, so jus’ what did I do t’ tick y’ off?"

Charles’ heart sank in horror at his words. They know about the Morlocks, was the first thing that swam dazedly across his mind. He could see it in Scott and Jean’s faces. The knowledge. The anger. The betrayal.

Erik didn’t give him any more time to consider the ramifications, however. He turned on Gambit with an angry sneer, and Charles sucked in his breath for fear of what he might do, but he seemed to have gained control of his temper.

"Consider this payback for what you stole from me in the past."

Gambit’s expression flickered with curiosity, and from somewhere he summoned a flip smile. "Gon’ have t’ give me more clues dan dat, mon ami. I’ve stolen a number o’ t’ings over de years." There was a note of taunting in his voice, and even more in the open admission to being a thief.

Erik’s lips thinned, but he cocked his head as if realizing that he was being baited. "No, I think not," he answered. "You are a pernicious and troublesome little insect -- I will be quite happy to let you die wondering."

Charles forced his expression to remain still as Gambit’s smile faded. Erik turned away, apparently dismissing the matter entirely, and focused once again on Charles.

"Now to the matter at hand, Charles. I have a question or two for you." Erik paused, considering, as a smile appeared on his face. "Or perhaps I should let one of your faithful students ask them instead." He gestured toward Scott and Jean, who both looked up at him in wary surprise.

"Come, come," he urged when they both remained silent. "Phoenix, I know you’ve uncovered Charles’ duplicity -- how he betrayed you to Onslaught. Certainly you’re wondering why?"

Jean’s gaze jumped guiltily to Charles, and his heart clenched painfully tight in his chest. He hated himself for what he had done that day, and yet there had been no other choice for him to make. It would have been even more terrible had he allowed Onslaught to find out about Remi. He shuddered to think what that creature might have done had he possessed not only Remi’s telepathic powers, but the ability to travel through time as well. Charles had made the choice with the full knowledge that he might be condemning Jean to death, and, staring into her eyes now, he knew that she could read that knowledge in him. Her bewildered hurt was like a knife wound in his heart, and after a moment, he looked away.

"Why?" Cyclops demanded angrily.

Charles forced himself to meet the other man’s eyes and to see the anguish hidden there behind the anger. "I’m sorry," was all he could find to say.

Erik gave a disgusted snort. "An apology is hardly sufficient, Charles! You betrayed your own X-Men. Explain yourself!"

Charles realized in that moment that for all of Erik’s grandstanding, he was intensely interested in the subject of their discussion. It was as if he knew that Charles was protecting something specific, and was convinced that it was of sufficient value to go through all of this to obtain it. How he could know that, Charles wasn’t sure, though there was something about him that was maddeningly, frighteningly familiar. More than ever he wished he could see the face inside the mask, to give him some inkling of who this enemy was and how he could know Charles so intimately.

He looked up at Erik. "I will never tell you." In the end, though, it didn’t matter. The price was simply too high. There was nothing Erik could do to him to make him reveal the truth.

Erik’s gaze narrowed in response to the silent challenge. "Really? I don’t believe you. Or are you truly so cold that you would not tell me the answer to save the life of someone you love?"

Charles felt his insides freeze with terror as Erik grinned. "We already know you’re willing to sacrifice Jean... though perhaps that was a different situation since she was able to defend herself against Onslaught. What about now, when she is helpless? Or perhaps Cyclops would be a better choice. He is the son you never had, is he not? Or perhaps I should look to your dear lady love?"

Charles began to shake under the implications. Erik’s grin deepened and turned taunting, almost as if he could hear Charles’ frightened thoughts. "Choices, choices. Would anyone care to place a bet on how many I’ll have to kill before you give me what I want?"

Something in Erik’s expression tripped a memory, and Charles bit his lip until he tasted blood as the horror of the situation came down on him with the power of a thunderclap. He had a terrible suspicion in the back of his mind that he knew who Erik really was, even if it was impossible. And if he was right, then there was more reason than ever the keep Remi away from him. The Shadow King had more than enough power to penetrate the defenses that hid Remi’s powers, and armed with the knowledge of what he had accomplished in that other timeline and Remi’s powers at his disposal, there would be no way to stop him. The entire world would be plunged into darkness. But that meant that somehow he would have to find the strength to watch silently while Erik killed the people he loved.

Tears traced their way down his cheeks as he stared at Erik. The almost gleeful smile on the other’s face faded, as if he realized the strength of Charles’ resolve.

Erik frowned thoughtfully. "Well, perhaps I should start small and work my way up." Before Charles could utter a protest, he reached down and grabbed a handful of Gambit’s hair, yanking his head back cruelly. His other hand suddenly held a long dagger made of energy, whose edge he laid across Gambit’s throat. Without waiting for a response, he drew the blade back and brought it forward again with a heavy slashing motion.

In that moment, Charles’ heart snapped. "Stop!" he cried desperately. Remi might be gone, but Gambit was very much alive, and he was all that Charles had left.

Erik paused, a trickle of blood escaping around the edge of the blade that was pressed against Gambit’s throat, and looked up at him curiously.

Charles hung his head, defeated. "I’ll tell you what you want to know," he whispered. The truth was the only guarantee that Remy would live. He could still try to be smart about what he told Erik, but he knew that if the other asked a question, he would give the answer rather than risk Remy’s life again.

While the realization of how easily he had been broken painfully fresh in his mind, Charles noticed something. Had he not been looking down, he would never have seen it, but now his eyes were in line with the large metal spheres that encased Gambit’s hands. He had only an instant to observe, but that was enough. Each of the spheres had a hairline crack running around their circumference, and he felt a flickering of renewed hope.

"And here I thought you were going to make this difficult." Erik’s voice was full of contempt.

Charles didn’t look up for fear of what might be visible in his face. "Let him go." His voice held no force.

Erik shrugged and did so, then crossed his arms, the glowing energy knife still held in one hand. "You surprise me, Charles. You are willing to sacrifice Phoenix to Onslaught, and yet you will give over everything to protect this trash?" With one booted toe, he nudged Gambit, who glared at him but said nothing.

Charles slowly raised his head, catching Gambit’s eye for the barest moment. He wasn’t sure if the other understood, but he knew Gambit would make the best of any opportunity Charles could give him. And the information that Charles would have given Erik in broken despair could also be forged into a powerful weapon when combined with a little faith.

"Yes," he answered Erik simply, knowing that the other would press the point and give him the opportunity he needed.

Erik’s face reflected curiosity. "Why?"

Charles braced himself. "Because he is my son."

For Charles, time seemed to slow. The next seconds passed with excruciating deliberation, and he found himself acutely aware of a multitude of details that tumbled over and around each other in his mind. Scott and Jean wore twin expressions of stunned disbelief, as if the concept was unfathomable, and Lilandra simply looked puzzled. It was Erik whose response was most important. Charles watched intently as his eyes, barely visible within the shadows cast by his helm, widened in almost comic surprise.

He was still staring at Charles as the now charged and glowing metal spheres slipped from Remy’s hands to dangle at the ends of their chains. Charles had a single moment in which to wonder how Remy had managed to pick the lock on his collar without being noticed. He could now clearly see that the single red indicator light on the latch was dull, inactive. Then Gambit swung the spheres around once, building momentum and aimed them directly at Erik’s face. At the same time, he snapped two cards in the opposite direction. One was directed at the force field equipment beneath Gladiator’s feet and the other seemed like it would fly directly into Jean’s face. She turned her head at the last moment, and the glowing card struck her on the side of the neck, at the latch of the suppression collar. Her grunt of pain was lost in the multiple explosions, the largest of which tossed Erik backwards and knocked Gambit away in the opposite direction with equal force.

Charles ducked and covered his face instinctively as the wave of heat and force struck him, and when he looked back, he was just in time to see Gladiator grab the seemingly stunned Erik around the chest and leap straight through the ceiling of the cell. Jean was on her feet, her bonds shattered and her posture indicating intense concentration. Charles guessed that she was using her powers to try to keep Erik off balance for as long as possible while Gladiator grappled with him. Dirt and rock rained down from the hole in the ceiling as Gladiator powered upward, until a pale shaft of sunlight indicated that he had broken through into open air.

"We don’t have much time," Jean told them, her attention still focused on the astral plane. "I don’t know how long Gladiator is going to be able to hold him."

Behind her, Gambit had climbed to his feet. He seemed somewhat dazed from the explosion, his face reflecting shock, doubt, suspicion... and a momentary yearning that disappeared almost before Charles could recognize it. But then the unguarded emotions were gone, to be replaced by a fierce grin. He shook his head ruefully as he crossed to where Charles was seated.

"Don’ ever let it be said dat y’ don’ have any imagination, Professor. Dat was inspired." He knelt beside him and broke his manacles with a touch of glowing fingertips. "I t’ink Erik was so shocked he dropped all his defenses f’ a second dere."

Remy refused to meet his eyes while he worked on the manacles, and Charles could only stare at him. He felt nauseous, a feeling that was intensified by anger as he noticed the expression of relief that crossed Scott’s face and was quickly hidden. Remy appeared to be oblivious as he freed Lilandra and then went over to do the same for the X-Man.

Scott closed his eyes just before Remy blew the suppression collar’s latch apart, and Charles’ anger dimmed as the blinded Cyclops accepted the hand Remy offered him and let the other help him to his feet. The tension between the two men was unmistakable, but somehow the solidarity of the X-Men held. Charles felt a swell of pride as he watched them.

Jean’s telekinetic hand swept them all up once they were free and carried them up through the roof of the building in which they’d been imprisoned and out into the crisp evening air. Gladiator and Erik were no where in sight, and Charles entertained brief hopes that the Imperial Guardsman had found a way to rip Erik the Red into tiny pieces.

"Gladiator is breaking off while he still can," Jean informed them a moment later. "He managed to take Erik out past the moon’s orbit and thinks it will take him a little while at least to get back from there. He doesn’t seem to be having any trouble with the lack of atmosphere." Her last words were laced with sarcasm.

Scott nodded. "We need to alert the X-Men." He turned toward Charles, his expression closed. "Everything else will have to wait until then."

Sadly, Charles nodded in acknowledgment. Jean’s telekinetic embrace wrapped around him like an impenetrable cocoon as she lifted them further into the air and carried them eastward.