True Believers: Part Twenty-Five
"I want an explanation. Now."
The harsh, angry voice was familiar, but it seemed to come from a great distance. Dana struggled up out of the darkness, forcing heavy eyelids open, to find herself staring up a ceiling that she'd seen far too many times for her liking. Medlab, her groggy brain informed her unneccessarily.
Cecilia's face suddenly loomed over her. "Welcome back," she said sardonically. "Just in time for the fireworks."
"Fireworks?" Dana muttered, a moment before her memories reassembled themselves into a coherent hole. She sat up, too swiftly, and then cursed as her head spun. Damn it--I hate the way this feels. Blinking around at the rest of the med-lab, she saw Scott confronting the Askani she'd just healed, who was standing up under her own power, a little shaky-looking but glaring right back at him.
Another Askani. There hadn't been much time to think about what that meant, before, but now Dana shook her head slowly, half-bemused, half-afraid. They were coming out of the woodwork--and her instincts told her that COULDN'T be good.
"And I will give you one, be assured," the Askani said, biting off the end of each word, her accent even stronger than Cable's when he got annoyed. She tossed her long red-brown hair back over her shoulder in an almost imperious manner. "But not while you are shouting in my face, Summers."
"Yes, quit shouting at my patient, Scott," Cecilia said acerbically. "Or I'll toss you out on your ear. Just because McCoy's not here doesn't mean normal rules don't apply."
Scott gave her a furious look, but Cecilia didn't so much as flinch. Dana, however, did. The emotions Scott was projecting were alarmingly intense--confusion and suspicion and outright alarm, all mixed together. Dana glanced at the Askani, who was still glowering at him, clearly irritated. She was giving off an odd empathic impression, too. Annoyance and frustration, anxiety and--Dana blinked. Amusement? It was deeply submerged beneath the rest, but still there.
Do they KNOW each other? That was ridiculous. They couldn't, could they?
Dana glanced quickly around the rest of the medlab, and nearly yelped when she spotted Betsy standing in the corner, in the shadows. Her posture was relaxed, but her gaze was fixed on the Askani, and she was clearly ready for anything. She was also wearing a faint, ironic smile that Dana didn't understand at all.
Before Dana could say anything, the door slid open and Warren came thundering through. He stopped dead, seeing the Askani, and a look of pure shock dawned over his features. Under other circumstances, it might almost have been comical.
"You're supposed to be DEAD!" he blurted out.
The Askani did look almost amused. "Your past, my future, Archangel," she said dryly. "And as yet unwritten, at least from my perspective. Which means it's quite rude to speak of it. Call it temporal etiquette." She swayed suddenly, and Cecilia reached forward to support her.
"I'd think you'd better get back on the bed," Cecilia said firmly. "You're showing signs of psionic shock--"
The Askani smiled thinly, but let Cecilia help her back onto the bed. "Teleporting through dimensional flux will do that," she said, her voice a little weaker. "But it isn't serious."
"Why don't you let us be the judge of that?" Cecilia asked calmly.
"I've had worse, healer--no!" The Askani shook her head vehemently as Cecilia tried to get her to lie down. "There's no time for this, don't you understand? This isn't where I need to be--" Her brow creased, and she blinked almost dazedly. "Unless it wasn't MY need that brought me here. Oath, I hadn't even thought of that--"
"What do you mean?" Scott asked. Cecilia gave him a warning look, and he grimaced. "Cecilia, don't look at me like that. I have to--"
"Leave," the doctor said harshly. "That's what you have to do." Dana realized she was perfectly serious about throwing him out of the medlab if he 'harassed' her patient any further. Cecilia turned back to the Askani. "Whatever it is, it can wait until you've rested for a while," Cecilia said firmly. "You can't expect to be effective when you can barely walk across the room, can you?"
Sweet reason worked unusually well, Dana noted bemusedly. Maybe Cable's just exceptionally hard-headed. The Askani laid down without any further protest, although Dana got the distinct sense she was trying to gather her scattering concentration enough to argue.
"Besides," Cecilia continued. "No one's going anywhere at the moment, not with the storm--" Dana swung her feet over the edge of the bed, standing up, and Cecilia gave her a disapproving look. "And you stay right there, Dana," she said warningly. "You drew yourself down pretty far, even if you were only out for a couple of hours."
"I'm fine," Dana said stubbornly, trying to stay on her feet. The room seemed to rotate around her, and she leaned back against the edge of the bed for support. Forcing herself to straighten, she peered over at the Askani, who seemed to be having trouble keeping her eyes open. "Will she be all right?" She'd been so badly hurt--her pain had hit Dana like a kick in the gut as soon as she'd laid eyes on her, when Scott had carried her inside.
"I think so. She's exhibiting the same sort of symptoms Nathan was, but hers are a lot less severe." Cecilia gave Scott a significant look. "She still needs rest, Summers. You can grill her later."
"Cecilia, there isn't time for this!" Scott snapped. "I need to know what the hell's going on, and I need to know it NOW!"
"Scott, calm down," Dana said, a little afraid by how tense he was getting. "We can sort all this out--"
"Right," Cecilia grated. "LATER."
"No!" the Askani said suddenly, sitting up. "Later will be too late. There are things that must be said now." Scott came closer, ignoring Cecilia's scowl, and the Askani grasped his arm, her bleary gaze urgent. "Listen to me. I came to this time for a reason--" She swallowed. "I will--continue as soon as I am able, but he must be warned."
"He?" Warren asked confusedly.
"Dayspring," she forced out, and Dana sensed a terrible, frantic worry from her, just for a heartbeat before she somehow suppressed it. "And if she," The word dripped with such venom that Dana flinched, "returns here, Summers, you MUST kill her. You MUST."
"KILL?" Dana gasped. The Askani didn't even look at her. "Kill who? Who are you talking about?"
Psylocke had stiffened in the corner. "One of her 'sisters', if I'm not mistaken," the British telepath said, stepping out of the shadows. The crimson tattoo on her face seemed almost to glow as she stared intently at the Askani. "Which one?"
The Askani blinked at her, and her eyes narrowed. "Why ask a question to which you already know the answer?" she almost spat. "Have you not bothered to update yourself on the situation?"
Betsy raised an eyebrow. "Hana, then?" she murmured.
"Of course!" the Askani snapped
"Hana," Scott said flatly, his gaze riveted on the Askani's face. "Why?"
Dana gaped at him, incredulously. WHY? She tells him he has to MURDER someone, and that's all he has to say? She felt an urge to surreptitiously pinch herself, just in case she was still unconscious and this was all a dream.
"No dream, little sister," the Askani said. Dana jumped at having her unspoken question answered, but the Askani stayed focused on Scott. "Only the worst of nightmares. The--woman," She paused, her lip curling in contempt, "whom you all know as Hana is no true Askani."
"No true Askani?" Warren asked in bewilderment. "What, are there different KINDS now or something?"
Betsy's expression was stony. "I think that's exactly what she's saying, love," she said softly.
"Keep talking," Scott said, sounding more unsure. Dana looked from him to the Askani, dazed by the intensity of the empathic atmosphere. From her, pure, unadulterated hate, the contempt only a thin, cracked veneer above it all. From him, a growing, icy dread. Warren's bemusement and a bleak but unrecognizable blend of emotions from Betsy only added to the turmoil.
"Hana is a traitor." The Askani's voice was flat, emotionless, in terrible contrast to what Dana was sensing from her. "She and her accursed kind are responsible for the splitting of the Sisterhood."
"The splitting--" Betsy bit back whatever she'd been about to say. Her eyes were wide, full of sudden shock. "We didn't know any of this," she breathed. "Explain, please. Who split the Sisterhood?"
"The old witch of Ebonshire and her so-called 'Circle'."
There was a sudden burst of anger from Scott's direction, like a spark set to dry kindling. "Sanctity," he grated. His voice, in comparison to the Askani's, was hoarse, rasping. Furious. Dana blinked at him. There was something very odd here--he'd known the answer, been so sure of it that he'd barely needed to ask the question.
"Yes," the Askani said coldly. "To them, it would be acceptable to keep my kinsman chained up in the corner like a pet canine until they deemed it time to unleash him on En Sabah Nur. He is nothing but a weapon to them, and all others are even less than that, in their eyes. They will use any method, no matter how brutal, no matter how ruthless, to ensure he walks the path they have laid out for him, and no other. They have more blood on their hands than you can imagine! What they have done, what they may yet do in the name of their monstrous beliefs--"
"And what do you believe?" Psylocke asked softly.
The Askani gave her an almost disgusted look. "As I always have--that the Chosen must live free. Now and forever! Otherwise, all of this--EVERYTHING is for nothing."
It didn't even cross Dana's mind to doubt that the Askani meant every word of what she'd just said. Grim sincerity blazed from her as if she was literally glowing with it. 'My kinsman', Dana thought. That was interesting--and important, too, her instincts told her. At the very least, it was a far different attitude towards Nathan than Hana OR Shavrin had shown.
"I believe you," Scott said, very softly. Three simple words, and yet they seemed to drain the anger from the Askani. She slumped back against the bed, losing the struggle to remain awake and alert.
"Faith is a gift," she murmured. "You honor me with yours." Her eyes fluttered shut almost immediately. Cecilia leaned over her for a moment, and then glanced up at the monitors.
"Out like a light," she whispered, and then glared at Scott. "Now, OUT. You can talk to her when she wakes up."
Warren, who was still frozen, just inside the door, finally took a hesitant step forward. "Time travel," he said, his voice strained. "Gotta love it. I tell you, Scotty, I never thought I'd ever see her again--"
"Scott, who IS she?" Dana asked, ignoring the angry look Cecilia was turning on all of them for continuing the conversation in here. Scott opened his mouth, closed it again, and then gave a deep sigh.
"She's the Askani who took Nathan to the future when he was a baby. When he was first infected with the T-O virus."
Dana blinked. "But---I mean--" She'd read that log entry. "Didn't she--um, discorporate?"
"You heard what she said, Dana," Psylocke said with a faint, troubled smile. "Our past, her future. For her, that hasn't happened yet."
"But she--knows?"
"Apparently."
Scott shook his head again. "And yet she's back here trying to save him again," he muttered.
Psylocke looked slightly skeptical. "Scott, can we really be sure? All of this business about factions among the Askani is bothersome, to say the least. How can we know who to trust?"
Scott met her eyes unflinchingly. "Trust? If I had to choose between a woman who manipulated us telepathically as soon as she arrived and one who sacrificed--or will sacrifice her life to save Nathan's, I know who I'd trust." He studied the Askani's still face for a moment. "And what she said about Hana--it makes a lot of things make sense, now."
"Like WHAT?" Dana gasped, unable to help the horror in her voice. "Scott--you're not going to--do as she says, are you?" Please say no, please--because if you say yes, I know I really AM having a nightmare--
Scott's head whipped around to face her again, and Dana nearly shrank backwards. "Of course not!" he snapped. "X-Men don't commit murder. But knowing this--" The anger she was sensing from him sharpened, until it took on a cutting edge, threatening to slice right through her shields. "Knowing this, I will be in my grave a week before I let that woman get within a mile of my son again."
"But he's not here," Psylocke reminded him, her eyes narrowing. "There's not much we can do, right now."
Scott's jaw clenched. "I'll tell Logan, if--when he calls." Dana actually shivered at the sound of his voice. "I know I can trust him to keep an eye out until they get back here."
"And if Hana does show up again, Scotty?" Warren asked, his wings ruffling in obvious anxiety.
"Then we do what's neccessary," Scott grated. "Hana came from Sanctity--that's all I need to know." He gave Cecilia a single dismissive look. "Let me know when she wakes up." Cecilia, her eyes a little wide, nodded. "We have a lot to talk about."
***
"Bishop! Lad, ye're going t'fall off the roof here!" Sean Cassidy shouted over the howl of the storm. He was half-in, half-out of the window, clinging to the frame as he peered through the pouring rain at the barely discernible shape of the X-Man walking quite calmly along the roof, seemingly unbothered by the screaming winds. Sean swore, and started to climb the rest of the way out. He could at least be there to catch Bishop when he got blown off to his death--
#He's quite all right, Sean,# Emma's voice said coolly in his mind. He yelped and nearly fell out of the window. Catching himself, he put his feet firmly on the floor and turned, jumping when he found her standing right behind him. She met his gaze impassively. The wind blew her hair straight back from her face, and her eyes were like ice.
He knew how upset she was about Jubilee and Gina's disappearance. He was frantic about the lasses, himself, but he was honest enough to admit that this hit Emma even harder, after what had happened to the Hellions. Yet she was controlling herself so tightly that no one who didn't know her well would be able to see what lay beneath the surface. She and Bishop made a fine pair in that respect.
#I beg your pardon, Cassidy,# Emma said acidly. Sean couldn't help a faint smile at her tone. Sounded much more like the Emma he knew, in any case. She raised an eyebrow, and then leaned past him to glance out at Bishop.
"What's he doing?" Sean shouted.
Emma actually flinched. #Looking for residual energy traces.#
"From what?"
#From anything--and Sean, shouting is REALLY not neccessary. Simply think the words, and I'll hear you.#
Sean grimaced. Now really wasn't the best time to discuss with Emma how little he liked having her poking around in his mind. Besides, she knew how he felt. She was preoccupied, that's the only reason she would have made such a suggestion. He glanced out the window, relieved to see Bishop starting back.
The timelost X-Man made it back inside without even putting a foot wrong. He was drenched to the skin, his expression grim. "There is a trace," Bishop grated. "I'm not sure what kind of energy, but it's not from either Jubilation or Gina, I'm sure of it."
"Ye know both their power signatures that well?" Sean asked, closing the window. The storm's howl was muted, but still perfectly audible. Bishop glowered at him, and Sean sighed. "Of course ye do, lad. Forget I said anything."
"They could have been teleported," Bishop said bluntly, with a brusque nod to acknowledge the apology. "That would account for the speed and silence of their disappearance."
Emma's eyes narrowed. "Surprising as it may be, we HAD considered that, Bishop," she snapped.
Bishop didn't back off. "I still cannot believe two of your students simply vanished out from under your nose, Frost," he grated.
"I was unconscious at the time, Bishop, if you'll recall what we told you when you arrived. And our systems were down, just the same as yours." Emma drew herself up, blue eyes icy. "I was under the impression that you were here to offer constructive assistance, not merely to criticize. Perhaps you should return to the mansion, if the latter's the case!"
"Em, Bishop," Sean said placatingly, "let's not be arguing amongst ourselves? It certainly won't do our lasses any good."
Bishop's dark eyes almost glowed with frustration. "I simply--" He bit back whatever he'd been about to say. "My apologies," he said through gritted teeth. "This happened before the temporal wave--you're sure of it?"
"I had telepathically checked on them, only minutes before the wave hit and I lost consciousness," Emma said harshly. "They were perfectly fine then--Gina was still upset, but Jubilee was talking to her--" Emma made an angry gesture. "We've been THROUGH this! We've got nothing to go on, even if we managed to pin the timing down exactly--"
Sean suddenly blinked. "Wait--" he said hesitantly, the pieces reshuffling in his head. His eyes widened, and he shook his head slowly, in disbelief. Why hadn't they even considered that?
"Considered what, Sean?" Emma said, frowning at him.
"That this all may be related, Em," Sean said slowly, disgusted with himself. Why hadn't he seen this before? Ye're getting t'be an dodderin' old man, Cassidy-- But even trying to think it through now was difficult, as if he was wading through hip-high mud--or as if the very subject itself resisted analysis. It was an odd thought, but it stuck. Sean forced himself to put it aside for now.
"Related?" Bishop demanded.
"To the temporal waves and all the Askani runnin' around." He met his fellow teacher's gaze squarely. "We've been concentrating so hard on treating Gina as her own person, we forget--"
"That she's Rachel's clone," Emma said, fury in her voice and a flush rising on her cheeks. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. "If any of those--women have taken those girls, I swear--I will not allow my students to be turned into pawns in some twisted Askani game!"
Sean glanced sideways at Bishop, expecting to see the same anger on the other man's face. He was surprised, though, to find a very different expression there--one that was primarily composed of fear. Since he was the only one of the three of them who'd actually encountered the Askani in question, the reaction, especially coming from him, was guaranteed to make Sean feel even worse about the possibility.
***
"Here," Jonas said amiably, indicating a chair beside him. Logan raised an eyebrow, but then sat down beside the security officer. "I think I've got a clear channel. Can't guarantee how long it'll last, though." Jonas gave him an easy smile. "Fortunately your lot's technology is half Shi'ar. Seems to be buffering the elements similar to ours from the worst effects of the temporal flux."
Logan decided he wasn't going to ask. "Thanks," he said gruffly, nodding. Jonas seemed like an okay sort, he reflected briefly, but he was still every bit as cryptic as everyone else in this nuthouse--Carmen being the worst of all. Settling himself in the chair, Logan growled to himself, thinking of how evasive she'd been when he'd finally managed to pull her aside for a few minutes to talk. Unashamedly evasive, and almost amused by his persistence. Certainly not anything like the woman he THOUGHT he'd known all those years ago. Either she's changed a whole hell of a lot, or she was one hell of an actor, even then.
Jonas's hands danced over the console for a few moments longer, and then he nodded briskly to himself. "All yours," he said, standing up. "If you start losing the channel, give me a yell and I'll see what I can do." He handed over his headset.
Logan accepted it with another nod, only half-noticing Jonas move off to another corner of the commsuite. The screen in front of him flickered for a moment, and then resolved into Marrow's face. Logan frowned.
"Sarah, what're you doing playin' operator?"
She smirked at him. "Making myself useful, old man. Problem with that?" Her lips moved soundlessly on the screen, but her voice came over the headset as crisply and cleanly as if they were actually standing in the same room.
"Guess not, kid," he said suspiciously, wondering how Marrow had ended up on monitor duty. "Where's Scott?"
"Pacing the halls waiting for you to call," she said, with that same grin. "Hold on."
She moved out of view, and Logan waited impatiently, noticing the static starting to dance across the screen. Before he could really start to get uptight, though, Scott was sitting down in front of the screen, the look on his face positively grim.
"Well, we're here," Logan said. "Plane nearly took a flamin' header into the Atlantic when the temporal wave hit us, but we're all in one piece." Logan hesitated for a moment, unsure of whether he should tell Scott about Cable manifesting the Phoenix-effect or not. That wasn't the kind of news you wanted to break to someone over a comchannel that might go out at any given moment.
"Good--that's good," Scott muttered. "Logan, we've--had some developments here."
"Developments?"
"Yes." Scott hesitated for a moment, and Logan leaned forward, scowling. He looks like he's chewing over how to say something, too--make a great pair, we do.
"Well, spit it out, Summers," he said bluntly. You first.
"Hana hasn't--reappeared, has she?"
"Hana?" Logan's eyes narrowed. "Not here, no."
"If she does--she has to be kept away from Nathan." Scott paused again, some sort of struggle obvious on his face. "Another Askani showed up here--the one that rescued him when he was a baby."
"Holy shit--isn't she supposed to be DEAD?"
"This is a younger version of her. But that's not really important. What she says about Hana is the real kicker, Logan."
"Which is--?"
"That Hana was sent by Sanctity."
Logan froze, swearing under his breath. It hadn't been THAT long since Jean had told him and Scott about what she'd found in Cable's mind--the extensive yet mostly dormant psychic conditioning that had apparently been implanted by Sanctity at some time in Nate's past. "So this other Askani--she was what, sent to stop Hana?" he asked, too loudly, and immediately looked over his shoulder. Jonas was nowhere in sight.
"She's not stopping anyone at the moment, Logan. She teleported in here, badly hurt--Dana healed her, but she's in mild psionic shock, apparently from teleporting through the temporal disturbance--" Scott stopped. "That's something you should tell Nathan," he said more briskly. "Not to teleport."
"I'll--bring it up," Logan said, not wanting to tell Scott how little Cable was listening to any of them at the moment. "What about telling him about Hana?"
"Fine. Just not about--"
"You can flamin' well bet I'm not going to be the one to explain THAT to him, One-Eye." Logan stopped, forcing himself to continue in a more level voice. "I'll do my best, Scott," he said quietly. "Don't know how much good I'd be against an alpha-class psi, but if she shows up again, I'll try."
"Try and convince Nathan that she's a danger. That shouldn't be too hard, after what happened in the medlab before she vanished."
"Yeah, that was quite the parting threat she threw at him and Shavrin," Logan said absently, remembering. What happens now--what has to happen--let it be on your heads! The angry words echoed in his mind, and he sighed. Damn, this situation just keeps getting better and better. "You want me to tell any of the others?"
"About Hana, yes. Not about what Sanctity's done. We can't chance him picking up on it from anyone who hasn't had Jean bury the knowledge."
"You can't keep it quiet forever, Scott."
"I know--I just--" Scott rubbed at his temples as if he had a headache. "This isn't the right time, Logan. Once this is all over--"
"Right," Logan said dryly. "Remind me to be out of the country when you do." That would be one hell of an awkward conversation, and that was putting it mildly.
"That's not funny."
"Wasn't meant to be. What else is going on that's got you so short-handed that Sarah was on monitor duty?"
Scott explained, tersely, about the various damage-control efforts going on, and Logan shook his head grimly. They'd seen how bad the storm was on the way in, but they were so insulated down here that its continuing fury really hadn't registered on them.
"Fortunately, the effects seem to be holding steady--not getting any worse, I mean. Reed Richards seems to think that's a positive thing, that it means we're going to start seeing things begin to clear up. As long as we don't get hit by another wave."
"Well, that just adds a little urgency to what we're doing here, doesn't it? We're going for the base tonight. I'll let you know when we get back."
"Take care, Logan. Be careful."
"Always am, Scott."
A faint smile tugged at Scott's lips. "No, you're not," he pointed out. "But try to make an exception in this case?"
***
Miriya ran up and down the steep slopes, headed unerringly in the direction where she sensed the girls and using her telekinesis to literally walk atop the mud and stay upright in the face of the terrible, howling wind and driving rain. Inwardly, she was cursing. How HAD she managed to emerge so far from the children? The distortion wave had been disorienting, but she should have reacted faster than that, should have had a better grip on them to begin with--
Left too much to chance, I did-- she thought, a sick feeling at the pit of her stomach. This whole mission was so distasteful to her, she'd been unwilling to plan it out properly. If the children paid for her qualms--if she failed to force the necessary nexus--
The consequences didn't bear thinking upon.
#Miriya--# A sorrowful voice, whispering in her mind, carried on the wind.
Miriya hesitated, and then ran on, doggedly. #Distract me you will NOT!# she snarled back. Oh, she had been waiting for that. They'd been silent since she'd regained consciousness after the distortion wave, and part of her had hoped that the shock had made them withdraw in self-protection. It would have been nice to have some quiet to think, for at least a few more minutes--
#You must not do this, Miriya. I know why you think it's necessary--#
#Silence yourself!# she growled internally.
#Leave her alone.# A crisper voice, clear and brisk. #She IS doing what's necessary, you fool. Weakening her at a critical moment will destroy everything.#
#Oh, as if you really care!# spat a third voice, all too familiar to her with its whining undertone. Miriya cursed, allowing herself a moment of bleak amusement that this choice of hers had provoked so much debate from the inner choir. #It's all your fault, you and your heretic sisters--#
#We all know what we've done.# The coldest voice of all, one that spoke only rarely. A siondahri, if Miriya recalled correctly, one of the many of the warrior-sisters who had died in the bloody fighting after the schism. #That's why we're here, to repair things.#
#Repair it?# One of Sanctity's faction, sneering. #With this scorching of the earth policy--#
#You started it!# the siondahri snapped.
Miriya fought the urge to close her eyes and scream at them all to shut up. Psionic necromancy had its drawbacks. Especially when you were forced to share mindspace with women who, in life, would have been perfectly happy to drink each other's blood. This uneasy alliance of once-enemies was fragile enough at the best of times. She knew she was risking not just her sanity but her life, intervening in this pattern and trying to force it to her will. She relied on their belief in her, their need to repair the damage they had done in life, to keep them quiescent and helpful, instead of warring with each other and ripping her mind apart.
#The greater good,# a softer, half-amused voice pointed out. #That's why we're all here, sister. A second chance--even if half of us are too stubborn to acknowledge that most of the time.# The voice, one of her own contemporaries, grew almost comforting. #It shall all work out for the best-- should we play our hand at the best moment, of course.#
#Keep telling myself that, I do,# Miriya responded with an inward sigh, and continued to run, determined to get to the girls and whisk them away before the fist of Apocalypse dropped upon this place, this 'Black Mountains station'. Ignoring, as she did, the increasing roar in her mind as all the Askani who had died in the hundred years of the Sisterhood's existence argued about her motives.
And to think, she had entertained the thought that the day couldn't get any
worse.
to be continued...
[FOOTER]