Generation X - Genogoths Page 8

  Sharpe crossed his arms over his chest and nodded knowingly. “It must be frustrating, to be bom with such a unique ability, and then discover that it really wasn’t good for much of anything. At least your friends, they can find a lost library book or keep their ice-cream from melting on the way home from the store. Not fantastic abilities, but of at least minor iftility.”

  Pound studied the man. He was leading up to something. What?

  “My people here have done a great deal of research on so-called super heroes. You’ve heard of the famous Avengers, I’m sure. They have an android member known as the Vision. You’ve seen him?”

  “I’ve seen him on the news, yeah.”

  “Did you know he has the patterns of a human mind superimposed on his synthetic brain? I’m afraid I don’t understand the process, but my people have had some luck in experiments with animals.”

  Pound started. It was bad enough what they were doing to his friends and him. What could they be doing to animals?

  “Dogs, actually.” He saw the expression on Pound’s face. “Oh, don’t worry, they haven’t been harmed. We’ve just used them as templates, copied their mental patterns onto synthetic brains housed in powerful robot bodies.” He glanced off into the darkness. “Would you like to see one of the results?” He paused only for a moment, then shrugged. “Send it in.”

  Pound heard a door open invisibly, heard the sound of metal claws clicking on the concrete floor. Then he saw two glowing, red eyes. They focused, mechanical irises widening with a slight whir. Only then did it occur to him to be afraid.

  Then something incredible happened. He saw himself sitting in the examining chair, saw Sharpe’s back. In the blackness behind him he saw walls and hidden machines, colors shifted strangely as though he were seeing in infrared. He saw a large mirror on the wall behind him, then a shift, and he saw through the mirror, to the hidden control room behind, half-a-dozen people inside, busy as ants, oblivious to his attention.

  The dog. He was seeing through the robot dog’s eyes. And if he could see through its eyes—Step forward.

  He saw through his own eyes again, as the dog stepped into the light. It was huge, sleek, deadly looking. Highlights glared from its chrome-plated mechanical muscles as they shifted in its broad shoulders. Jaws parted to show rows of shark-like metal teeth. The eyes glowed red, even against the room’s illumination.

  He looked at Sharpe, fear melting. “You’ve made a big mistake, Sharpe.”

  He looked at the dog. Attack!

  The dog trotted rapidly toward Sharpe, who to Pound’s surprise, didn’t move. The dog stopped a few yards short of Sharpe’s position, its terrible jaws open, crouched, powerful metal legs coiled to leap. Then nothing.

  The fear was returning, and with it, a knot in the pit of his stomach. “Attack!”

  The dog didn’t move.

  Sharpe laughed. He walked up to the dog, rapped his knuckle against its inert skull. “Just a little safeguard I had built in. This was the test of that safeguard. Believe me, if there had been any problem, a technician would have powered down the cyber-hound instantly.”

  He stepped around the dog and came closer to the chair. “You’re a telepath, but interestingly enough, that only makes you that much more vulnerable to certain kinds of mind-control. I think you’ll be the first to respond to our control.

  and when you do, you’re in turn going to command an entire pack of cyber-hounds against your fellow mutants.”

  Pound shuddered at the utter confidence in Sharpe’s voice. Even if he could resist Sharpe’s mind-control, he’d be helpless against him. A moment before, he couldn’t wait to move on, to get out of this chair, to get on to the next thing. But now—

  Now the future held only dread.

  Black stared at the police officer for just a moment before breaking into a practiced smile. “Hey, officer, what can I do you for?” He waved his arms, being careful not to move in a threatening fashion, and to keep his hands in plain sight. “No problem here. Just checkin’ out.”

  Chief Authier didn’t seem impressed. “There’s a lot of that going around,” he said dryly. “You gents got business in the area?”

  Black glanced casually back at Leather, who looked far too tense. Don’t do anything stupid. He turned back to the chief. “Just passing through, Officer. Can I—” He sidled a little closer, leaned over, and whispered conspiratorially. “Can I trust you with a little secret. We’re all roadies here. For the Stones. You like the Stones, officer?”

  The Chief pursed his lips and adjusted his mirror-shades. “I think they’re getting a little old for the ‘angry teenager’ bit. Not that I heard they were anywhe: e within a thousand miles.” Black snickered, as though he enjoyed his secrets a lot. “We don’t want word to get out. They’re shooting a video out on the reservoir. Something with, like, jet-skis, explosions, babes in bikinis, like that.”

  “Like I said, they’re getting kind of old for this stuff.” His hand drifted away from his gun. “I listen to rap, myself.” He didn’t move. “Listen, Mr. Black, I get the feeling that the one bit of truth in what you’re saying is that you’re leaving. Fortunately for you, that’s the part I really care about. Normally I’d check your I.D.’s and ran all these vehicle plates, but that would slow down your leaving.” He turned and started back for his car. “The last thing you see in town,” he said, “will be me in your rear-view mirror. You think on that,” he cracked a tiny smile, “and have a nice day.”

  Black looked back at Leather, whose eyes were wide with alarm. “Give me my gun back. I’ll take care of him.”

  “What?”

  “He isn’t what he seems to be. He knew your name. You never gave him your name.”

  Black watched as the police car pulled out of the parking lot of the motel. “But I did give it to the man at the gas station. They may have talked. But you’re right. He probably didn’t, and he isn’t what he looks like.”

  Leather continued to look at him.

  “I am not giving you your gun back.”

  Leather scuffed his feet on the asphalt in annoyance.

  Black frowned at him. “If you read your field reports, you .know that man is most probably a mutant.”

  Leather blinked. “What?”

  “We haven’t been able to run a genetic scan to confirm it, but he’s on our ‘probable’ list. He’s a demonstrated low-level telepath. That’s how he knew my name, knew I was lying about our identity, and telling the truth about leaving. That,” he paused for emphasis, “is what the Genogoths were created to protect.” He opened the door of the van and climbed in. “Drive me to the airport, Leather. I have work to do.”

  The Xabago pulled into the alley behind a grocery store. They slipped between two semi-trucks, and Jono shut down the engine. He slumped back into his seat. He’d never before appreciated the simple joy of being stopped.

  Angelo looked out the window. “Is it just me,” he asked, “or are the tires smoking?”

  “That,” said Jubilee, “was an E-ticket ride.”

  Monet floated into the air, then set her feet down lightly. “What, is an‘E-ticket’?” '

  Jubilee shrugged. “Just something Wolvie used to say.

  Speaking of which—” She peered out of the windshield. “Do you know where we are?”

  Monet brushed at a bit of lint on her sweater and wrinkled her nose. “Judging from the smell of rotten eggs and over-ripe bananas, alarmingly close to the Dumpster.”

  “Yeah, but. Check it out.” She pointed at the company name stenciled on the Dumpster. “We’re in Salem Center. New York. Like, practically at the X-Mansion. Like, if there was an off-ramp for the X-Men, a sign that read xavier institute, a sign that read services this exit: blackbirds, cerebro, danger room, a sign that read mutants next right, that would have been the sign for this exit. We are here. It’s fate.”

  Espeth stared at her. “No,” she said.

  Paige came over and watched the exchange. It was obvious
which side she was on, but she said nothing.

  Jubilee held up her hand, index finger and thumb held just slightly apart. “Couldn’t we pick up just a couple of X-Men? Maybe just one. Maybe a small one. Somebody with claws." “No ” said Espeth firmly.

  “We could just drop in,” suggested Jubilee. “So, I’m like, Just in the neighborhood. Don't mind if we borrow a Blackbird, do you? It’s for a—field trip. Yeah. A field trip. Take the Blackbird and see how cheese is made, in modern, clean, efficient factories”

  “No ” said Espeth. “No X-Men. None. We don’t go near the place, or I walk, flag down the first Genogoth I find or who finds me, and you never see me again. I mean it.”

  Jubilee sagged in her seat. “Like, so close, and yet so far.”

  *•

  “A good number of you listeners have called to ask about my missing co-host, Recall. Well. I have some slightly alarming news to report. I’ve been informed that his family doesn’t know his whereabouts, and have filed a missing persons report as a precaution. Now, I’m sure you all remember being young and flighty. I never was, but I remember you. [Canned laughter] I’m sure Recall has simply left on one of his frequent school-related trips and neglected to tell anyone. So if you’re listening out there, Recall—Get back here, slacker! " [Canned laughter]

  ,; . ' —Walt Norman

  and Recall radio program

  “.As a struggle may sometimes be seen gomg on ^ between the various instincts Of the lowjg^Sth mals, it is not surprising that there should b'e~a ’ struggle in man between his social instincts, with their derived virtues, and his lower, though momentarily stronger impulses or desires.”

  —Charles Darwin The Descent of Man, 1871

  Jono pulled the sleeping bag tighter around him and watched the headlights of oncoming trucks project an ever-changing pattern of light and shadow on the headliner of the Xabago’s cab. He was curled on the floor between the front seats while Paige took her turn at the wheel. The radio was turned low, tuned to some country station, her choice, not his. Angelo was sprawled on the couch, snoring softly. Everyone else seemed to be asleep as well.

  He rolled over on his back and looked up at Paige, her long, blonde hair bobbing with the motion of the ’bago, raindrops from the windshield projected onto her cheeks. She looked beautiful and mysterious, tired and vulnerable. He blinked and turned away. “Hey, Paige. You doing okay up there, Gel?” ' ' - - -

  “Nothing a gallon of coffee wouldn’t help. Of course, thanks to me, we’ve got no stove, no hot water, no nothing.” “Not your fault, luv. We’d all have been fish and chips if you hadn’t kicked that tank loose.” He listened to the road noise for a while. He couldn’t hear water on the pavement any more. They must have driven beyond the rain clouds that had shadowed them since midnight.

  “You know, I didn’t say so, but that was a brave thing, climbing up on the roof, going after that burning tank.”

  “You told Jubilee she was brave.”

  “She needs it more than you, Gel. You know you’re good. She had to keep reminding herself, and it helps when somebody else joins in.” He looked up in time to see a hint of a smile curl the edge her lips. Headlights played over her features. Yes, there’s that hint of a dimple. He looked away again.

  “Just so you know, Mr. Starsmore, my mamma taught me that a compliment to a lady is always appropriate.”

  “Point taken, Gel.” He thought for a while. “I know I’ve been hard on you this time out. You don’t think we’re doing the right thing going with Espeth.”

  “Going to rescue our friends? It’s not that we’re doing the wrong thing, Jono, it’s just that we’re not doing the best right thing. We just drove within a few miles of the X-Mansion this afternoon, and didn’t go for help. That’s not right. Of course, she didn’t give us much choice.”

  “You don’t like Espeth very much, do you?” She said nothing. “I think she’s a better person than you or Angelo give her credit for. She’s just in a really bad place right now.”

  Paige frowned. “Yeah, and our friends are paying the price. This whole Genogoth thing gives me the creeps, Jono. I don’t want humans hating us, but I don’t want them—lusting after us either.”

  “This isn’t still about that dance, is it?”

  '“■No!” A pause. “Yes.” Another pause. “No-—I don’t know, Jono. It’s hard to keep my head and heart straight on this business.”

  “If that’s what it’s about,” he said, “shouldn’t I be the one worried that we’re running off to rescue your boyfriend, Recall?” ' ' '

  “Jono!”

  “Hero of Chicago. Big media personality. Lower face pretty much intact, except for a few zits. I should be worried.” “Jono, stop! I like Recall, but he’s just a kid who had a crush on me. Plus, he’s over it. I think.”

  “Well, if it’s any comfort, Espeth gave me the creeps a little too, at first. I mean, the attention was flattering and all. It’s been a long time since a girl came at me like that.”

  Paige shot him a dirty look.

  “You know what I mean. Anyway, it’s not like you have that problem. A looker like you could have any boy she wants.”

  She snorted. “Long as I don’t start shedding on our first date. Let’s face it, Jono, it’s been a long time since anybody understood us, accepted us, except us. I can see how it would

  be right nice to have somebody without wings or antennae on their head who was interested in you for just being yourself:’ Silence for a while. There was a sad song on the radio. Had to be sad, Jono reasoned, based on all the wailing.

  “She’s still wrong,” Paige finally said, “and she’s wrong to impose this on us.”

  “Remember last summer, when you started calling the Walt Norman show, and asked us all to keep it a secret from the headmasters? Was that wrong too?”

  Paige licked her lips nervously. “I don’t know, Jono. Maybe not. But I took my lumps for it, just like I’ll probably take my lumps on this one too, and it seemed right at the time.”

  “I imagine Espeth is just doing what seems right too. We may not agree, but sometimes you just hold on and go for the ride.”

  ' “Mmm,” Paige said.

  Jono closed his eyes and listened to the hypnotic rumble of the Xabago’s engine. The uncomfortable silence dragged on until Jono figured the conversation was over. Then the road noise changed. One of the tires crunched into gravel. The Xabago lurched slightly.

  “Paige?” He looked up in time to see the wheel spin out of Paige’s hands, and then he and his sleeping bag went airborne.

  Chill sat up and groaned. The Pounder was back, looking only a little worse for the wear. “I wish they didn’t knock us all out every time they took one of us in or out of this box.”

  “That,” said Pound, “was bad. That guy Sharpe is crazy.” Recall nodded. “Yeah, I’ll buy that assessment.”

  Chill rubbed his scalp and looked at them. “I’ll have to take your word for it. I haven’t had the pleasure yet.”

  “I have the feeling,” said Recall grimly, “that your time is coming.”

  “Hey,” said Pound, brightening, “your power is to find things. Why can’t you just find us a way out of here?”

  Recall pulled his knees up to his chest, and put his hands over his eyes. The lights in their cell never seemed to go out or to dim. After a while, the glare got to them all. “I’ve tried. I know there’s not supposed to be such a thing as an inescapable cell, but this one has got to be close. Without tools, weapons, or equipment of some kind, we’re stuck. If there’s a way out, it has to be in the form of an opportunity we haven’t seen yet.”

  Recall uncovered his eyes and looked around the room. “No loose furniture, no seams, no vents, openings, or pipes even remotely big enough to get through. We don’t even know how they get us in or out. For all we know, they cut a hole in the wall and patch it back each time.”

  Chill sighed. “I hate to be the one to break the news, but we’re in trouble, g
uys.”

  Recall chortled, but the gloom was quick to reassert itself. “That guy Sharpe thinks he’s going to brainwash us, turn us into some kind of mutant hunters or something. He can’t do that.” Pound chewed on a thumbnail, his eyes fixed on the far wall. “I don’t know. 1 think maybe they can.”

  Chill leaned closer and put a hand on Pounder’s arm. The big guy was really afraid, like they all weren’t. “Hang in there, pard. What’s up?”

  “He showed me some kind of robot dog, a ‘cyber-hound’ he called it. I could command it telepathically, just like I car. communicate with real animals. I could command it, and I could see what it saw. Only it was rigged so I couldn’t use it against Sharpe.”

  Chill grinned. “Which means you tried.” He slapped Pound on the arm. “Good job!”

  But Pound didn’t look reassured. “He knew what I’d do before I did. He knows my powers inside and out, knows everything about me. He says he’s going to turn us against our friends, and he means it.” He took a big breath. “We’re screwed man. We’re not getting out of this one.”

  Recall tried to put on a brave face, but it was obviously an effort. “Pound, you say the same thing every exam week. We’re the good guys. There’s always a way out, we just haven’t found it yet. Or—” he paused, seemingly unsure if he should go on. “Or, we could get rescued.”

  Chill raised an eyebrow. “You know something. Spill.” “You remember last year, when I used my power to track Paige and the gang cross-country. I was sitting here and started wondering where our friends were, what they were doing and stuff. So I think about Paige, and I can feel her. It makes me feel better, so a while later, I do it again, and it seems like she’s getting closer.”

  Chill leaned forward, suddenly very interested. “Go on.” “So I didn’t want to say anything unless I was sure. I’ve only used my power that way a couple times, and only with Paige. But I decided to see if I could get it to work with any of the rest of the Gen X gang. It seems like they’re all getting closer. So, just for a control, I try thinking about some of our other buds. So I try Espeth.”