characters, events are the property of Marvel Comics and are used for entertainment
purposes only. You know the drill. Intended to be a "What If" kind of story.
"You Only Live Twice: On Shaky Ground" by Karen Galarneault
Guadalajara, Mexico, two years ago
The eleven year-old boy named
Julio Esteban Richter unlatched his seat belt and
jumped out of the passenger
seat of his cousin Omar's Dodge pickup.
Omar, several years older
had just received his driver's license. Julio had begged
and promised to do his cousin's
chores for two weeks if he'd take him joyriding
along the back streets of
Guadalajara.
Omar had finally given in,
swearing he'd hold him to the promise.
Julio belatedly realized
that Omar was just the type to try and weasel an extension
on the promise.
They'd shot down to the outskirts
of town, weaving in and out of traffic.
The pickup speed along at
an exhilarating pace, often threatening to spin out of
control
as it hit every rut and
bump in the road. With the wind in his face, his shoulder length brown
hair whipping over his eyes,
and vision blurred, Julio loved every moment of it.
Omar called the pickup ‘a
gainer’, telling him how he'd acquired it in Mexico
City during one of his weekend
trips with his buddies. Julio didn't care, just as
long as he could enjoy going
this fast without having to worry about the policia.
Omar headed towards a rocky
outcropping called "Jewels of the Sky", he
insisted it was a spectacular
view. Pulling up to a guard railing, Omar slid into a parking
spot and turned off the
ignition. They both got out.
It was every bit as advertised.
He saw eagles whirling in loops above the
cloud break., and the bluest
sky he'd remembered seeing in a long time.
"Its exactly the kind
you see in mushy, romantic movies or in dramatic flicks
when they wanted to emphasis
landscape," he thought.
Standing atop the outcropping,
the view stretched away to the horizon.
Julio watched the ebb and
flow of city life. People, cars, and every day life, from this
altitude it looked like
a model city being played out just for him.
"You can see everything from
up here!" Julio exclaimed, running over to lean
over the
guard railing. He tried
to trace imaginary dragons and other shapes in the clouds.
"Told you so,:" Omar replied,
yanking on Julio’s leather jacket sleeve.
Don’t fall over. Your mother
would never forgive me if I let anything happen to you."
"Yeah right," Julio replied,
placing both hands on the railing, taking deep breaths of the pure air,
which jolted him out of
his more fanciful thoughts.
"I think I can see my house
from here," Julio said, ignoring Omar’ death grip on his sleeve.
"Come away from there, the view won't change the closer you are to it."
"Thanks for bringing me up here," Julio said.
"De nada. I come up here
every once in a while to ‘get away from it all.
It's sort of a special place.
I thought you were ready to come here," Omar said.
Julio didn't quite know how
to respond to this, so he just nodded and mumbled his
thanks. Omar, not used to
expressing emotion took this as acknowledgment
of his gesture.
"Take all the time you want,
soak up the view. We'll head back home whenever you're ready,"
Omar said
as he went back to the pickup
for a cooler where he'd stashed a six-pack of beer,
and then came back to stand
next to Julio in comfortable silence.
"Sure, Omar," Julio said.
He could understand how this would be a perfect spot
to
get away from it all. It
was incredible. He
lost track of how long they'd spent just hanging
out up there, not really
doing anything.
However, he was eager to get back to his room,
because he'd left a copy
of Robinson Curouse unfinished. He'd left it splayed open on his
bed,
like some ungainly butterfly.
It was one of his favorite
books. He especially liked the way the title character
yearned for ocean adventures
on board a ship, exotic ports, and the occasional
pirate raid thwarted. Even
being shipwrecked on a deserted island seemed exciting,
when he read about it. His
favorite role was the character, Friday., who Robinson
saved, taught English, and
converted. "Probably the best part of the book," he thought.
He'd always imagined transposing
the heroes he'd read about in his books, for his
father, imagining him better
then he was.
He couldn't help wishing
that he'd pursued some other line of business.
Julio Richter's mind drifted
back to a time when he'd first learned about that business.
Costa Rica, early 80's
The Elder Richter, balding
and unkempt, peered out through leaded and barred windows.
The younger Richter, wearing
a hand- made poncho, sewn with care and love by his mother,
perched on a stool. He'd
come down to Costa Rica thrilled to be old enough to accompany his
father on a business trip.
For the last five hours he'd
watched his father pace back and worth wearing an
almost noticeable groove
in the wooden floor of the building.
His father's client
had told them this was the "Waiting Room."
He'd also said that "Jimmy
Alegria Hernandez would be with them momentarily."
"Is this what you were expecting
them to do to us, poppa, when we came down to
Costa Rica?" Julio asked.
"No, hijo. This isn't what
I was expecting. And Louis Alejandro Richter is not to be treated in
such a disrespectful manner!
Who do these people think they are dealing with anyway?
Bunch of lackeys, is all.
You'll see, Julio, when these idiots
report back to their boss,
and realize what a mistake
they have made, they will
let us out and smother us with
apologies and wine. You'll
see what kind of weight
your father's name carries all over
Latin America!"
A door opening on creaking,
unoiled hinges, let in a half dozen armed men in
jeans and denim shirts.l
All were armed, except for their apparent leader, a medium built
man wearing an expensive
Italian suit.
"About time," Louis said.
"Come with us. Senor Hernandez
will see you now," one goon said, pointing towards
the only available exit,
and allowed them to walk out ahead , the business end of the
gun pointed towards the
small of their backs.
Outside
"Senor Richter, my sincerest
apologies for having detained you and your young son
for so long. It was an oversight
of a most accidental nature. But you did bring the
merchandise with you?" Hernandez
oozed.
"I am a professional merchant, Senor Hernandez. Your goods are in the crate."
"I expected no less of you, Louis," Hernandez soothed.
Julio hanging back at the
edge of the ring of men, eased his way between them to
take a closer look the contents
of the crate. Those standing around dickering
over the
agreed upon price of the
merchandise ignored him.
He bent down on one knee
to get a closer look.
Hernandez gave a cursory glance at the nine year old boy.
"Mira! Look how your boy
is so curious about what you deliver to me, Louis!"
Nice heft. Ammunition, too?
Si? I am very pleased, Louis. Take a good look, Nino.
See any light at the end
of this tunnel? Hope so," he gave a throaty laugh,
"Since you're staring down
the barrel of your own future."
Gudalajara, Mexico, two years ago
The sound of gunfire outside
the kitchen window shook Julio out of the unpleasant
trip down memory lane. It
also brought his cousins, both immediate and
twice removed running to
the window. Lifting the lace curtains that his mother
had purchased a week ago
from a mail-order catalog all the way from Ireland, he
saw about an even dozen
of his family members, tossing back cans of beer and
fingering the safeties on
their rifles.
A sudden blast from an invisible source knocked them flat on their faces.
Julio watched his father
pull on his best dress shirt and run out to the front courtyard.
A man emerged from the shadows,
well over six feet, his white hair slicked back,
a long trench coat opened
to reveal a muscular figure, a star shaped scar criss-crossed
his left eye.
"Es un tiburon." Julio whispered to his cousin, Omar."
"A shark?" Omar whispered back in confusion.
A shark. Omar had taken him
to see the movie "Jaws" a week earlier, so that was the most
frightening thing he
could think of., just like the
great white shark plowing through the water,
right before sinking its
rows of razor-sharp
teeth into the hull of the boat.
The animal laughed as bullets
bounced off him, it was as terrifying a sight as the boy
had ever seen
All the Richter men were
on the front yard, shooting away. Maybe they were
too stupid to be as frightened
as he was. If there was one thing he'd learned as he
got older, there was as
little shortage of stupidity in the family as there were guns.
"We should be out there, Jul, shootin' away!" Omar shouted.
"I don't know, Omar, it looks like bullets ant gonna settle this one," Julio replied.
"You're a coward," Omar remarked.
It stung, but Julio knew
instinctively that his first gut reaction had been right about
this one. As he got to know
his cousin Omar better, it seemed he didn't have the
sense God gave a mule. Turning
his attention back to the fight outside, which
was turning out to be more
of a waste of ammunition. The futility of it all
wrenched at his heart. "I
can't believe this is happening," Julio muttered.
Meanwhile, ‘the shark’ moved
forward, no longer laughing, just burning with anger.
His body lit up like a Roman
candle, like a spectral glow of red, orange, and white.,
framing his entire frame
in a light that hurt Julio's eyes just to look at him.
"NO! Senor Stryfe!" his father shouted.
Julio watched his father crumple to the crowed, the gun held loosely in his slackening grip.
"Louis Alejandro Richter, you have lied to me!" Stryfe growled.
"I had no choice- La Policia
were poking around, I had to move the merchandise quickly....
You were two weeks late
and I could not reach you, no matter how I ride.
I sold the materials to
HYDRA at a loss just to be rid of them...."
"You have reneged on our
agreement, Louis. I do not wish to see harm befall your
entire family for your personal
indiscretions, but someone must pay."
"Stay back.." Louis shouted, holding his gun in shaking hands.
"And that someone’s YOU!"
Stryfe announced, a sphere of lighting appearing in his
hands, aimed directly for
his father. The lightning hit, instantly stopping his heart,
He fell down dead, but not
before he'd managed to squeeze off a shot.
Julio watched as the bullet
bounced off the Shark, his father screamed. Out of the window, torn
between fleeing and staying,
Julio heard his father fall, heard him scream,
a clean hole through his
forehead, and his murderer walked away as if
nothing had happened.
Julio stared at his father,
a man he respected, a man he loved. He was
frozen in shock, at
loss for words for the first time in his life.
He knew what his father
did for a living wasn't
pleasant. He'd had ambivalent feelings
about it, but he couldn't
stand to watch
his father die, murdered at the hands of some
homicidal madman in the
guise of a defrauded buyer.
__
The funeral
The Richter family, led by
Se~nora Juana, shrouded in black, bundled
up in several cars headed
to the San Sebastian Cemetery. The arrangements for
Louis Alejandro’s cremation
had been taken care of, all that remained was the
funeral, his ashes sprinkled
over the family plot. It turned out to be quite
a procession.
Padre Ramirez greeted them at the front gates. "Beinviendos."
Senora Richter quickly formed
up everybody, handing out lit candles and
baskets filled with food
and wine. They'd share a meal during the candlelit
vigil. Since Julio and his
cousin, Candia were underage they wouldn't be allowed any wine..
The family took their place
in the circle of mourners,which included both friends and family
members.
The priest took the baskets
from his mother, and placed them on the ground,
arranging the family in
a loose semicircle. Padre Ramirez than accepted the urn,
he sprinkled the ashes on
the ground, "Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust,, we return
to the Lord." Benedictus
que veni en Nomi de Domi, Blessed is He Who Comes
in the Name of the Lord,"
then the priest led the recital of several songs and other
group participation prayers:
Psalm 121
""I lift up my eyes toward the
mountains; whence shall help come
to me?
My help is from the Lord, who made
heaven and earth./ The Lord is your
guardian; the
Lord is your shade. The Lord will
guard you from all evil; he will guard
your life.
The Lord will guard your coming
and your going, both now and forever.""
Padre Ramirez sang..
Several hours into the vigil,
which would last until sunrise, Julio, kneeling with
the others, struggled to
keep his eyes open. Sleep threatened to overtake him, that,
and it was nearly impossible
to get a comfortable position. Candia sidled up next to him,
tickling his left side.
"Stop that!" he whispered.
"Why? Hey, Julio, you gonna
be okay?" she asked. "It was just his time to go.
Sure, it was an awful way,
but at least his suffering is over now," she added.
"How can you say that? he
yelled at her. "He was murdered!" turning away from her.
Julio had been eleven when
he his father was murdered right in front of his eyes,
and the memory was still
painful, still haunted him. He thought he should be grateful
his mother was still alive,
and life went on. Two years later, he still felt a tight
fist of resentment deep
in his gut over what had happened.
His cousin, Candia tried
to console him, she was well-meaning, but he didn't
want to be consoled. She
clung to all during the funeral going on and on about
how Louis was in a better
place, that his suffering was over now.
Julio tried to put those
thoughts out of his mind, it was bad enough trying to fend Candia.
It was hard to ignore her
though, she always wore tank tops and cut-off denim shorts,
She let her long black hair
grow almost to her waist, second cousin or not, she was still family.
He was momentarily knocked
off his feet by a group of drunks coming out of a
bar, his cousin Omar in
the lead.
"Hey, Julio! he yelled, "Come
join us." he weaved unsteadily, a bottle of vodka in
one hand, a gun in the other.
Another group of drunks shouldered their way
past the first, lurching
into Omar. Julio watched as his cousin swiveled bringing
up one hand and aiming a
right hook toward the offender's eye
He missed by a mile . Growing
angry, he brought up the other hand
and pulled the trigger,
causing events to spiral out of control and breaking into a brawl.
Julio couldn't stand, it. "Can't they see how stupid they're being?" he thought
Even though he knew that
Omar regularly drank with his buddies, this was too much.
The fist of disappointment
and anger clenched inside of him, feeling, emotions he'd
learned to bottle up exploded.
Bringing up both hands in
front, responding to some unnamed and unknowable
instinct, Julio brought
his fingertips held outward like aiming a gun. From some
source deep inside of him
came forth an energy he never knew he had.
Green energy played about
his clenched fists and spread out towards the
group of fighting men, toppling
them from their feet, guns hitting the ground with
a metallic clan. They were
sprayed with a shower of wood, masonry, and concrete
falling apart like a lake
that had a heavy weight dropped into it.
Buildings in radius of two blocks collapsed upon their foundations.
The men were swept up in
a green circle of energy coming from the boy's hands.
Realizing that the green
energy was his, Julio was more shocked than the
men staring at him.
Julio dropped to his knees, staring in mute appeal at his cousin,
his friends, people he thought
he knew staring
at him like they'd never seen him before.
Screaming in wordless pain,
Julio picked himself and ran away from the
scene. Tears fell, unheeded
down his face.
*****
Later That evening
Julio locked his room, hoping
that Candia wouldn't barge in with another attempt to
to persuade him to
try another board game or watch a movie.
He pulled out all his dresser
drawers and stuffed his clothes into a leather suitcase
without bothering to fold
anything. He'd already raided the kitchen for stuff to
take in his backpack.
By morning he'd be gone and
he'd never look back.
"It's for the best, I don't
know what's going on with me. But it's too dangerous for
me to stay here," he muttered,
stuffing a few odds and ends into the suitcase,
along with several books
he'd planned on taking along to read., and zipped it up.
Running away sounded like
a wonderful plan at first. Sure, it would solve all his
problems, the void he felt
inside after his father's death, Candia’s sometimes
comforting, sometimes tedious
presence, and Omar’s drunken episodes. It would
also solve a general feeling
of not fitting in anywhere.
Slinging the backpack across
his shoulders, Julio snagged the suitcase, debating
whether or not to leave
a note, but what would he write?
"Perdon, mi famila, but I have to leave because I just wrecked two city blocks
with some weird green energy?" "Yeah, that would go over well, Not," he thought.
Julio finished stuffing the
suitcase, then glared at the inoffensive piece of
luggage for a while, wondering
for the first time if he'd made the right decision,
"I've gone too far to turn back now," he muttered.
He left the house, taking his ten speed and the money he'd been saving and headed for the bus station. .
San Francisco, California
Three weeks and two hundred
dollars later, Julio found himself in San Francisco.
He'd taken odd jobs here
and there to supplement his funds by translating for farmers and families
along the border and in
small towns on his way to the big city.
His first glimpse of the city by the Bay was the impressive Golden Gate Bridge reflecting the afternoon sunlight.
Once here, Julio didn't quite
know what to do with himself. Running away was a lot more
complicated than he'd thought.
Walking up and down the storefronts
of the famous Nob Hill, he occupied himself
by window shopping, spending
hours in the bookstore, amazed by the array of titles.
Scanning titles in the mystery
section, he nearly toppled a stack of paperbacks precariously leaning up
against a wall.
A tall man, blonde hair and glasses, that looked for all the world like
some Hollywood version of a trial
lawyer, stood next to him.
"You like mysteries, kiddo?" the man said.
"Si, Mister," Julio, said,
trying to play dumb until he could figure out what the man
wanted with him, he knew
he didn't want to strike
up conservation with a perfect stranger.
"My name is Cameron Hodge."
"Like that was supposed to mean something to me?" Julio thought.
"I’ve got a mystery for you." He nodded and pulled out a can of mace then sprayed it
directly into Julio’s eyes
a split second before he realized there was something fishy
about this hombre.
"Something tells me I should get the hell out of here," he thought.
Then everything went black.
******_
A ivory tower in the heart
of downtown San Francisco served as the
headquarters of the Right
Organization.
Their founder and leader
was Cameron Hodge. The Right started out in the late
70’s as an offshoot of
other self righteous vigilante groups, by some white
supremacists, like the Ku
Klux Klan. There was one glaring difference, the
Right was part of the rising
upswing in anti mutant hysteria sweeping the nation.
Cameron Hodge had learned
of the boy Julio Esteban Richter from a rather unlikely
source, the boy's cousin.
The man hadn't known what mutants were, only that
he'd seen the boy flare
up months ago, taking out several city blocks and injuring
several drunken men involved
in a street brawl. The resulting property damage in
the official newspaper reports
had been attributed to a ground soil collapse, or in
some accounts, just a random
earth tremor, or a mild earthquake not strong
enough to register on the
Richter scale. The irony wasn't lost on Cameron Hodge.
"Are we awake yet?" the mocking
voice asked, echoing over and over is head, as
his cousin Candia would
have said, "like that annoying song that's stuck in your head
and you can't get rid of
it?" Julio didn't know where he was, but given the ache
spreading all over his body,
he surmised that whereabouts were the least
of his concerns.
He didn't want the owner
of the mocking voice to know that he was awake.
A numb sensation and the
general unresponsivenes of his body probably meant they
or whoever they were had
used some stronger drug on him than mace sprayed in
his eyes. What he couldn't
figure was why?
Julio stirred and rolled
over on his side, realizing that he'd been lying on a metal
gurney like he'd seen in
hospitals.
"Who are you? Why have you brought me here?" he demanded.
"Good. You're awake." I believe
we've already met, but time was
of the essence and I had
to dispense with the formal introductions. As you know,
I am Cameron Hodge and you
are Julio Esteban Richter. And from the
moment you set foot in my
ivory tower, you're my prisoner," Hodge explained.
"Madre de Dios" What do you want with me?"
"I am the leader of the Right
Organization. Founded for one purpose and one
purpose only, to flush out
and study so-called "Children of the Atom", mutants,
dear boy, like you."
"I don't believe you," Julio retorted.
"Whether you believe
me or not, is immaterial. You don't even realize that's
what you are. Oh, that weird
green energy emanating from your hands. Bet
that shocked you?"
`"How do you know about that?
"I have my sources."
"So I'm a mutant, whatever that means. What now?"
"Now, we have a little fun," Hodge replied, holding up a pair of hot pokers.
"You're going to torture me?"
"Smart boy. Exactly,
I'm going to torture, for several reasons: One, I want to
know what a mutant's threshold
of pain is; Two, I like to watch my prisoners suffer,
and Three, which is the
most important reason, I've done cross-checking
and I've managed to pin
down exactly what you're particular mutant powers are,
kinetic vibratory blasts,"
Hodge explained.
"Huh?"
"In other words, Julio, you
can generate energy wavelengths capable of causing
a effect akin to an earthquake.
because of an genetic imbalance referred to as the
X-Factor."
"You're one sick bastard, you know that?" Julio said defiantly.
"Thank you, As I was saying,
I will torture you until you agree to meet my
demands. It might take days,
it might take hours, who knows? Hodge shrugged.
"But understand one thing,
my seismic mover and shaker, however long it takes,
your newly manifested powers
will either be voluntary used to topple San Francisco
or I will force you to do
it. Either way, my organization will be able to point a
legitimate finger at you,
and say, ‘there goes a dangerous mutant
menace to society, and it
must be stopped," Hodge grinned.
Julio’s heart sank deeper
than the San Marina’s ocean trench. This Hodge hombre
was mad and the worst part
of it was, he was going to drag Julio down with him
when all hell broke loose.
That he was some kind of mutant because of a
genetic X-Factor was easier
to accept than what was happening to him.
Gritting his teeth and trying
to block from his mind any pain sensations
as Hodge inflicted torture
after torture on him. He refused to scream, not
wanting the
sadistic man to get any
satisfaction out of it. If
he was a mutant, so be it, but he wasn't
about to let this bastard
with a vendetta
use him as some weapon or or worse yet,
someone to take the blame
when something went wrong.
He'd just arrived in San
Francisco. He'd always heard that California was
the land of dreams, well,
this was turning out to be a nightmare.
Ripples of pain lanced through and rational thought slipped away into a black void.
******
He'd been dragged kicking
and screaming, tossed in the trunk of a car. Taken
to a focal point in the
city, Julio’s feet were chained to a stone mounting block
to prevent him from running
away. He'd be locked up there until Hodge decided
it was time to unleash his
‘seismic’ powers against an unsuspecting city.
Hodge usedthe key to
the manacles to lock Julio securely in place, then used
a connecting cable to join
the conduits in the mounting blocks as a link from
the mobile generators to
insure maximum possible range.
Then it started.
Hodge flicked a switch on
the generator and the green energy flowed
from Julio’s hands,
against his will. He could
only see the damage from
his newly awakened powers in the immediate vicinity.
Hodge was using the equipment
to increase the range. He saw storefronts,
homes, buildings, crumple
like they were being hit with a wrecking ball.
Paved streets buckled sending
shards of concrete flying as if imploded from below.
He saw people running inside
and outside, cars jamming up from the resulting
bottleneck, and he heard
screaming.
Abruptly the flow from the
generator cut off. The green energy from his hands
flickered and went out.
He felt about as wrung out as a wet rag.
"Why are you stopping?" Hodge
yelled, jumping up and down, in his fury he was
nearly
incoherent. "According to
my readings, the epicenter hasn't even reached
the suburbs yet."
Two men and a woman in black
designer suits came around from the back
of the generator. All were
armed with handguns. Julio half expected them to
flash some sort of official
badge. Instead, they pointed the guns at Hodge.
"Cameron Hodge, we find you
in violation of the Amnesty International codes governing
human rights,"
the woman announced.
"You must be kidding!" Hodge exclaimed.
"Let me assure you, I am not," the woman replied.
"Who are you people?"
"That’s immaterial, but if
you must know we’re called M.U.S.E. and Julio
Esteban Richter is coming
with us. Now release him from those chains. NOW!"
One of the men strode forward
and snatched the key from Hodge’s hand.
He released Julio from the
manacles, chaffing his wrists, and gave him a lotion.
"Rub this on your hands
and feet, boy. Don't worry, "No te preocupes.
Lo entienes? Tu estas seguro
ahora."
Julio took the man at his
word, and the lotion, somewhat reassured by the
fact the man was speaking
Spanish to him and that the others were trying to help
him. Stumbling out of the
mounting block, he staggered over behind the three
people in black.
"Who are you? " Julio asked, rubbing away at his various aches and pains.
"Voy a explicar mas tarde, chico."
"Somewhere away from here."
"In fact, I think you'll
like it. Well get you squared away, and when you're ready, we'll
find you a nice place to
live," one of the men said.
"Huh?" Julio gasped.
"I guess its time for the explanation, but not here,'t the woman said.
"I have rights!" Hodge protested.
"Not here, you don't,". the man who'd spoken Spanish, muttered.
"Let's go, Julio, we'll tell
you more somewhere in private, and a lot safer than
here," the woman said. Turning
to Hodge, getting ‘in his face’ she glared
at him. "Don't think you're
getting off easy. The three walked away from the
scene,
placing Julio in the middle
of the impromptu group, leaving Hodge
to clean up his own mess.
****
Later
"So, what's the deal?" Julio asked, flopping down on a nice, comfy hotel room bed.
"We don't have the authority
or the manpower to shut organizations like
Hodge’s dirty Right outfit.
But we can help rescue mutants in trouble, like you," one man said.
"It's time for that explanation.
MUSE is an acronym that stands for
Mutant Underground Support
Engine. We're a network of concerned
individuals trying to protect
mutants from the rising anti mutant sentiment in this
country. By the way, I'm
Lucas Wydham."
"Yeah, nice to meet you. Guess you already know who I am?" Julio grumped.
"The woman tossed him his
backpack, "Dr. Nancy Parsons. Here's something
you lost that you might
want back." she added.
"How'd you find this?"
"We're not without resources of our own," Dr. Parson said.
"Well, what happens now?"
"What were your plans before Hodge got his mitts on you?" the other man said.
"I was making it up as went," Julio replied.
"We can offer you a better alternative than that," Parsons said.
"Such as?" Julio demanded.
"You have every right to
be suspicious, and caution is well advised. You've
been through a lot, "
the other man said.
"It's not that I'm not grateful for the save and all,... he trailed off.
"You're not sure if you should trust us," Parsons finished.
"The way we work is not just
finding young mutants in trouble, we also take
them to a secure location,
provide them with clothing, shelter, you know the drill.
Once they've had sufficient
training in the use of their powers, we set them up with
an accommodating foster
family."
"Kind of implying that I
can't go back to my real family, and that I don't really
have any
place to go right now."
"Smart kid." Uh, I forgot, the name's Cedric Barnes."
"Sounds like a plan. And
this works, you train me, work with me, and then
just screen people who want
to adopt foster kids?" Julio demanded.
"We have a renovated 19th
century brownstone near Boston. It's in the countryside, away from
populated areas," Wydham
started.
"So any accidental damage
your powers may cause during training sessions
will be limited to a smaller
, unpopulated area," Barnes concluded.
"Ill call the airlines and
make all the arrangements for the four of us."
It's your decision, we're
here to help. Please believe when I say, MUSE
is dedicated to doing what
we can for mutants. We try to provide as ‘normal’
a life as possible, " Dr.
Parsons said.
"I guess I believe you. It's
just that I'm still in shock from everything's that happened,"
Julio said, rather dazed
and confused.
"Get some sleep, kiddo. Probably
the earliest flight we'd be able to get out
of California to the East
Coast will be the redeye," Wydham said.
"Yeah, probably." he was kinda liking this Wydham hombre.
Julio flopped back on the
bed, sinking down into the mattress, pulling the sheets
up over his head. He was
grateful for the rescue from Hodge’s clutches,
and that they genuinely
wanted to help. In the back of his mind, the rational
part was telling him to
not be so hasty with his decision, another part of that
operated on instinct, told
the rational side to shut up and get some sleep.
"Maybe tomorrow will be
a better day, at least, I hope so," he said.
The emotional side won,
because of an overwhelming fatigue swept over him, as he conked out.
___
"Nice kid. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time," Dr. Parsons sighed.
"Kind of stubborn though.
Kid’s got a head start on his powers, he just needs
control and maybe a little
more focused direction. I think we're really doing the
right thing here, Wydham,"
Barnes remarked.
Ill go make the call,." Dr.
Parsons said, leaving the room. "The sooner we're
in Boston and away from
here, the better Ill feel, " she said, over her shoulder.
"You got my vote there,"
Barnes replied, as the three left the room, and
left the physically and
mentally drained boy, sleeping.
To be continued in "Juxtaposition"
featuring Shatterstar.
https://members.tripod.com/~Karrenia/juxtaposition2a.htm_
Please click on the link
to read the sequel to this story.
My other X-Force stories can be found as links on the main header
page/
https://members.tripod.com/~Karrenia/XFORCEfanfiction.htm