Generation X - Genogoths Read online

  J. $eiiri York

  Illustrations Si 1VMK Buckingham

  MARVEL1

  BP BOOKS, INC. NEW YORK

  BERKLEY BOULEVARD BOOKS, NEW YORK

  r

  CHAPTER ONE

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  Angelo Espinosa shielded his eyes against the sun with the flat of his rubbery, putty-colored hand, and admired their creation. It had taken him, Ev, and Jono most of a week to hammer together the parts in the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters’ service garage. Then, being careful not to be seen, they’d spent better than half the night dragging the parts out into the giant greenhouse that was the school’s biosphere.

  Angelo glanced up at the warm, springtime sun shining through the glass panels of the ceiling. It was nearly noon. They’d spent the entire morning tacking the pieces together with screws, nails, and glue. The last step had been to apply the plywood decking, but that was finally done as well.

  Ev popped out from between a pair of wooden supports with a hammer in his hand. He turned and wiped the sweat off his shaved scalp. “Behold,” he said proudly, “the Danger Ramp, an extreme training challenge based on alien Shi’ar technology.” He pursed his lips. “Okay, Shi’ar technology and some two-by-fours and quarter-inch ply we found in the gardener’s shed.”

  At that moment, the top of Jono’s head peeked over the far end of the ramp. Angelo glanced at him, imagining for just a second what it w'ould have been like to know Jonothan Starsmore before—From the nose up he looked like what he was, a handsome upper-class English teenager. It wasn’t until he climbed higher up the ramp, exposing the black leather wrap that covered his lower face and chest that there was something obviously different about him.

  Before. Before a kid from the Los Angeles barrio had his skin turn into something like a cross between elephant hide and Silly Putty. Before that English kid turned into a living

  psionic reactor and accidentally blew a hole in himself. That was a long time ago, he thought, or at least it seemed that way.

  Fact was, there was something different about all of the students at Xavier’s. They were mutants, bom with a genetic glitch that gave them incredible extra abilities, and in some cases, incredible extra burdens.

  Jono’s wraps covered a gaping hole where his chest and the bottom of his face used to be, a hole filled with crackling psychokinetic energy. The injuries happened when Jono lost control of his newly developed powers. The horror and guilt of that day still haunted Jono, who’d taken the rather disturbing code-name of “Chamber.” Angelo sometimes thought that the damage had been more psychological than physical. He also couldn’t decide if he should feel sorry for a fellow member of the freak-show contingent, or just kick him in the butt and tell him to stop feeling sorry for himself. Most days, Angelo did a little of both.

  But Jono wasn’t the only one of the boys whose mutation was both gift and burden. Angelo’s code-name, “Skin,” was an obvious one. His gray, rubbery epidermis hung in loose folds from his face and body. Angelo could stretch and control that extra skin in incredible ways, but it required an act of will to maintain even a parody of normal appearance.

  Of the three guys, only Everett Thomas’s power, the ability to “synch,” literally to copy another mutant’s mutations and abilities, had left him unscarred. But Ev had once revealed to Angelo his deepest fear, that one day he would synch with the wrong mutant and impose some terrible change on his body that couldn’t be undone. He’d synched with Jono and Angelo many times without any permanent effects, but the fear persisted.

  Angelo scratched the stubble on his chin, and absently pinched a rubbery fold of skin between thumb and forefinger, pulling it out like taffy. Can’t blame him. Who’d want to end up like me? It was just something Ev would have to learn to overcome.

  That’s why Ev was here, why all of them were here. This place, Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters, offered a hope that they, and other young mutants, could learn to control and use their powers, to live normal lives among humans who often hated and feared them.

  It was not a great life, Angelo thought, but then neither were the rough streets where he’d grown up. He’d learned to live there, made some friends, had some fun, carved out a little hope among the drugs, the gangs, the guns, the hateful anglos. Now fate had given him a different life, and he’d have to find his place here as well.

  Ev clambered up onto the narrow catwalk at the top of the left ramp, a skateboard in his hand. He held the board over his head, the sun catching the glossy black paint and the flaming biker-skull decal. “Anybody want to wrestle me for first run?” Angelo grinned and stepped up to lean against the ramp’s wooden framework. “You want to find all the loose nails for us amigo, be my guest.”

  Angelo couldn’t remember whose idea it had been to build the half-pipe skateboard ramp. They’d been talking about some over-blown sports-drink commercial they’d seen on the tube and got to talking about it. Back in L.A., where half the houses, even in the bad neighborhoods, seemed to have pools, some of his friends would watch for the real estate signs to go up, then scout the back yards for empty pools. They’d trespass and turn it into a makeshift skate park until they got busted, then move to another house. Back then, it hadn't much interested him but now, well, there were moments of his old life he’d give anything to bring back. Angelo looked at the board in Ev’s hand skeptically. “You sure you know how to ride that thing?”

  Ev chuckled. “Me and the homies used to skate the mall parking lots until the security guards chased us off.” He stood on the catwalk and dropped the board, pinning it under his right foot.

  Angelo raised an eyebrow at Ev. “Homies. Right, Midwest boy. Get down with your corn-fed self.”

  Ev just stared at him. “You want it or not?”

  “I haven’t been on a board since I was twelve and one of my boys got his first chopped Impala. Maybe I should take it slow. How about you, Jono?”

  Jono put down a socket wrench and looked at him incredulously. “Ollie, upside, downside, goofy-foot, grind. It isn't even bloody English. I can’t even talk it, much less do it. I’ll watch you Yanks bust your butts for a while first, then maybe I’ll give it a try,” he said in his strange telepathic voice.

  Ev brightened. “I’ll teach you, Jono. It’s easy. Watch.” He kicked the board nose-up with his heel, twisted it over the lip of the ramp, and tipped smoothly over the edge. He shot down the half-pipe and up the other side, slowing until he was frozen for a moment standing horizontally on the far wall. Then he reversed his stance, and shot smoothly back the way he’d come, wheels rumbling over the painted plywood decking. He repeated the process, gaining speed until he became airBdrne at each end of the trip.

  Ev started doing simple tricks: spinning his body while airborne, flipping the board, finally landing with the board’s metal trucks straddling the lip of the ramp. Ev stood there for a moment, arms outstretched for balance.

  “Show-off,” cracked Angelo.

  “Always.” Ev grinned down at them. He hopped sideways onto the catwalk, flicking the board up into his waiting hand. He held up the board. “Anybody else want to try?”

  “Is this a boys’ club, or can anyone play?” asked a girl’s voice.

  Angelo turned to see Paige Guthrie peering around the end of the ramp, and Jubilation “Jubilee” Lee climbing up onto the far catwalk. It’d been Jubilee who had spoken.

  Paige stepped out into full view, brushed her blonde hair back behind her right ear, and inspected the ramp skeptically. “This sure looks dangerous.”

  Ev chuckled. “They don’t have skateboards in Kentucky,” he said, “the dirt clods keep getting caught in the wheels.” Seeing the hole Ev was about to dig himself into, Angelo
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  flashed her his best grin. “We are mutants, chica, life is dangerous.”

  Just then a girl with flowing, black hair swooped in, flying just below the Biosphere’s glass ceiling like a gorgeous brown bird. Monet “M” St. Croix dropped down and hovered over the center of the ramp. She smirked at him, something she did exceptionally well. “Here lies Angelo Espinosa, a.k.a. ‘Skin,’ mutant, boy, professional annoyance. He survived robotic Sentinels, marrow-sucking vampires, dragons, evil mutants, and alien invaders, only to break his fool neck falling off a skateboard in the back yard. It was natural selection at work. Darwin’s will be done.”

  He frowned up at her. How did she make her hair blow like that when there was no wind? “I’d like to see you try it, Little Miss Perfect.”

  “I'could, and I’d be better at it than you. But I choose not to waste my time.” He looked to Ev and Jono for some sort of support, but they were just watching him, probably waiting to see what sort of trouble he’d get himself into. “Hey,” complained Angelo, “Ev’s insufferable too, but at least he’s got the goods.”

  “Some of us don’t find it necessary to show off our abilities.”

  “Then what are you doing here?”

  She settled lightly down onto her feet near the center of the ramp. “If you do fall and break your neck, I wouldn’t want to miss it.”

  Ev and Jubilee sniggered. Paige had her hand in front of her mouth, trying to disguise her smile.

  Angelo scowled. “I haven’t even been on a board yet, and already everyone is giving me grief. Why is that?”

  Jubilee was sitting at the top of the ramp, and he noticed for the first time that she was putting on her in-line skates. “Hey, Jubes, this is a skateboard ramp. Don’t you board?”

  She wrinkled her nose at him. “Of course I do, and I’m not bad either, but I’m more of a street rider.” She tapped her left skate. “Besides, these are my wheels of choice.”

  Angelo narrowed his eyes, looking at the skates. “Is that legal?” ' '

  Monet had stepped off the ramp and was examining the construction. “The headmasters are going to have a cow when they see this monstrosity. They’ll make you take it down.” Angelo brushed past her and made a show of retightening a bolt. “Have you added clairvoyance to your long list of superpowers, Monet? They don’t even know about it yet, and since they’re leaving today for a two-week trip to Muir Island, it’s probably going to be a while anyway.”

  Monet just looked at him like a bug. “They’re going to make you take it down.”

  “Ready!” announced Jubilee, brightly. She stood on the end of the catwalk, lowered her red-tinted sunglasses over her eyes',* and without further hesitation launched herself into space, landing half-way down the ramp in a crouch, rising to her full height as she arched across the span of the ramp reaching the top on the far side. She lifted her feet at the top of her travel, snapped her body around in mid-air, then headed back the other way. Faster now, she reached the top of the ramp and went airborne. Instantly, she pulled her body into a tuck and somersaulted, landing smartly and then rolling down the ramp facing backwards. Just as the ramp started to flatten out, she arched her back and transitioned into a double cartwheel that killed most of her speed. She ended up back on her skates and moving forward. She arched half-way up the ramp, turned, and rolled off the low point of the ramp to join Angelo, Monet, and Jono.

  Paige and Ev applauded briskly. Jono gave her a thumbs-up. Angelo just shook his head in amazement. “Where did you learn that?”

  Jubilee tossed her short, black hair and smiled. “I got moves. People forget that. Why once, when I was—”

  “—with the X-Men,” droned Monet, finishing her sentence.

  “Actually,” said Jubilee, “I was going to say, once when I was at the mall'' Ev chortled, and Monet flashed him a nasty look. Ev ignored her, and jumped down from the top of the ramp. He tossed his board to Angelo. “Here you go, com-padre, show us what you can do.”

  Angelo stared at the board. How long had it been since he'd ridden? This wasn’t going to be pretty.

  Monet’s face went blank and she stared off into space for a moment. “We’re wanted back in the school. Emma and Sean are getting ready to leave.”

  “Saved by the bell,” said Angelo under his breath.

  Ev looked at him. “What did you say?”

  Jubilee looked at Monet. “Telepathy, I suppose?”

  Monet tossed her hair and sniffed. “I’m not telepathic.” Jubilee just continued to stare her down.

  Monet rolled her eyes. “Maybe a little.”

  ' * “Angelo, what?” Ev repeated.

  “Nothing,” Angelo growled. “Let’s get inside. And don’t you dare synch Monet’s telepathy.” He looked at her. “Assuming she has any.”

  Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters, nestled among the trees of Snow Valley, Massachusetts, had been built for a much larger faculty, staff, and student body than now lived there. With a large main school building, two dorms, a gymnasium, auditorium, the headmaster’s cottages, the biosphere, and many other ancillary and out-buildings, space and clutter were rarely problems they encountered. Thus it was something of a shock for Paige Guthrie to step into the school’s main entry and trip over a row of Italian leather suitcases.

  She tried to catch herself, and succeeded only in twisting so that her elbow cracked painfully against the oak table next to the door, before she managed a soft landing in a pile of garment bags.

  Paige shook her head, and saw Jubilee looking down at her. “If that had been a super-villain,” she said disapprovingly, “you’d be in big trouble—”

  Monet pushed through the door and past her, “Why when I was in the X-Men, and so on and so on.”

  Jubilee’s limited attention span diverted, she stomped after Monet. “I was not going to say that!”

  Paige heard someone run up the steps, and Jono skidded to a kneeling stop next to her, his strong fingers touching her arm, a look of concern in his eyes. “Are you alright, luv?”

  She looked away. This was the one time she didn’t want him to look at her. If there was one thing Paige hated, it was looking foolish. Without really realizing it, she shrugged off his touch and scrambled to her feet. Mr. Cassidy, Sean, was coming to check on her. The other students were all staring at her. She hated it.

  Mr. Cassidy slid in next to her. “Are ye all right, lass?”

  She plucked at a loose flap of skin on her elbow. “I just banged my elbow.”

  ' Sean Cassidy turned to yell over his shoulder into the other room. “Emma, I told you not to leave the luggage here!” He muttered something unintelligible under his breath, followed by, .. woman.”

  Emma Frost’s voice came from the other room. “She’s fine, Sean. I checked on her telepathically the instant I realized something was wrong!”

  Paige twitched. One more intrusion when she just wanted to turn invisible. “I’ll just make sure that Artie and Leech are ready to go. Be there in a minute.” Emma’s voice faded into the distance.

  Jubilee walked by again, going from somewhere to somewhere else, zigzagging through the rest of the luggage that was scattered around the floor of the entry hall. “Look out,” she said as she went past, “Magneto’s got a suitcase!”

  Paige picked more urgently at the flap of skin on her elbow. Invisible. On a lark, she dug into her elbow with the fingers of her other hand and pulled. The skin came off her arm with a sound like the tearing of rotten burlap.

  Jubilee stopped and screwed up her face. She hated when Paige used her powers, and Paige knew it. She threw the hunk

  of discarded skin at Jubilee, who danced and swatted it away like someone escaping a spider.

  Paige looked at her hand, transparent as crystal, bending the light like a glass statue. She flexed her fingers, seeing ghostly muscle, barely visible, moving under the skin. That should gross Jubilee out even more. She grabbed the skin above her elbow and ripped again, most of the skin coming off her
upper body in one big chunk.

  Speaking of chunks, Jubilee was making little gagging sounds. “Oh! Gross me out! What are you doing?”

  Paige smiled. “Fixing my elbow. See, just a flesh wound, and once you get rid of the flesh—”

  Angelo chuckled. Even Monet cracked a slight smile. Sean just had that long-suffering expression on his face. He had that expression a lot around here.

  “Oh, ew! Do me a favor, and just don’t eat anything until you fiusk back.”

  “Unfortunately, I have a craving for some Choco-Sugar-Bombs.”

  “Ew.”

  “Or a cherry fruit pie.”

  “Ew!” '

  “Or some Spaghetti-Zeros with Meatballs.”

  “Ew, ew, ew, you win, I give.”

  Angelo scratched his chin thoughtfully. “A fruit pie would go pretty good right now.”

  A little green boy wearing a stocking cap and a South Park tee-shirt strolled into the room. “Pie,” he said, wiping the spot on his face where his nose would be, if he had one, which he didn’t, “Hey,” said Angelo, “Leech, my man!” He stooped down so he and the boy could slap palms with one another. “Ready for your big trip to Scotland?”

  “Leech ready. Leech packed fifteen pairs of shorts.”

  Monet raised an eyebrow. “That’s more information than I needed.”

  “Monet,” Sean carefully stepped over a selection of tennis rackets to move closer to her, “is Penny on her way?”

  “Gateway left with her an hour ago. They’re already there by now.” Monet frowned a bit. “He was rather annoyed at the intrusion. He has pressing concerns beyond our present understanding.”

  “Well,” said Paige, “it’s not like a girl with razor-blade skin can just take the Concorde, even disguised by a holographic image inducer. And this trip is for her own good. Perhaps Dr. MacTaggert will be able to help her learn to talk, or maybe enable her to touch things without slicing them to ribbons.” “It’s too bad she can’t fly with the rest of them,” said Jubilee. “I bet she’d like it, all the people and everything. She’s shy, but I get the feeling she’d love to get out and see the bright lights and crowds.”