A strong gale tore through Westchester County tossing waves over twenty-five feet high against the sheer face of the rocky, western edge of the Kensico Reservoir. On the eastern shore, things were different. Heavy rain perforated the surface of the water, but the winds were strangely calm. Six hundred feet above, the air currents slowed along the cliffs jutting out from the grounds of the Xavier Institute. Just beyond the terrace, within the warmly lit interior of the mansion, a woman looked out the rear windows on the first floor. Her eyes glowed white and her long braids swirled about her shoulders. A large, blue, ape-like creature came up behind her. It was Dr. McCoy.
“The local news says we’ve got eighty mile per hour winds. It looks pretty peaceful out there. Are you playing with the weather, Ororo?”
“I have respect for nature, Hank, I don’t play with it,” Ororo Munroe explained to the hulking shape reflected in the dark glass. “We can handle the precipitation. But after Cannonball knocked over that great old pine the day Warren was teaching, I swore I wouldn’t let another tree go down. I’m only affecting the wind.” As she turned from the window, her irises dimmed to deep amber. “What brings you out of the lab?”
“I received some interesting information from Alain Corbeau at Starcore. I can’t say what it means exactly. I sent him the astrological data from the Eye of Ages codex. He thinks he’s identified the star system it’s talking about, which also happens to be the location of a recently discovered cosmic anomaly. Could be just a coincidence…”
“It’s never just a coincidence.” Her vision swept the foyer. “You didn’t see Logan wandering around downstairs, did you?”
“No. Is he AWOL again?”
“We had a security meeting this evening. He didn’t make it.”
“That’s not surprising.”
“I was sure he’d changed, Hank.” She showed him her back again, as she moved towards the doors to the terrace.
“I don’t know why you thought that,” he said, following her. “If there’s a crisis, Logan might show up at the last minute; but we’ve never been able to depend on him.”
“He stopped Apocalypse.” Her eyes searched the exterior darkness.
“We all stopped Apocalypse.”
“What do you mean?” Ororo clenched a fist against her chest. “I helped him…”
“He possessed you. You and Charles fought his control every second.” Hank wanted to reach out and curl his long arms around her.
“Nice of you to say that. Would you take over Logan’s watch? I’ve got to go out there. I think the storm cell’s returning south, but I want to make sure.” The Windrider glided through the glass doors onto the terrace.
McCoy joined her outside. Liquid bullets splattered his face. “Normally I’d advise against flying into thunder and lightning.” He winced. “But you wouldn’t listen to me anyway.”
“I’ll see you later.” An opalescent brilliance clouded over her pupils while vortexes filled her cloak and spun her hair into a whirring twister. Hank watched her rise, staring through battering winds which raked his blue fur. Ororo’s soaring form quickly vanished into the turbulent night sky.
“Moira, thank you for staying up to deliver these results.” Charles Xavier smiled at the image of his old friend filling the digital screen on his desk.
“Charles, I must repeat, I don’t know what will happen if she takes it.” Dr. MacTaggert’s speech was compressed by the technology; yet despite the tinny quality and the obvious note of concern, the sound of her lilting words warmed Xavier. Why hadn’t he been more candid the day she left for Muir Island? Why hadn’t he told her how much he needed her?
“I understand,” Charles responded. “This is an option I wish we didn’t even need to consider…”
Moira’s eyebrows knotted. “The test subject I used experienced a radical decrease in dopamine and norepinephrine activity in the striatum. So it should weaken her telepathy, temporarily. But it’s also possible she’ll suffer from serious depression. And her psychoactive levels might increase overall to compensate for the drug. It could cause another surge, especially if she quits taking it abruptly.”
“We’ll only use it if we have to. A great deal is at stake right now… Hank is about to come in, do you have any other specific instructions for administering it, aside from the dosage tables?”
“The likelihood of an adverse reaction is much higher if you give her an injection. So don’t, unless it’s an emergency. If she takes the pills and the effects build gradually over several days she might be all right.”
The handle of the door to the Professor’s office rotated and McCoy, as predicted, entered.
“Hank’s here.” Xavier greeted Beast with a glance. “Moira, I’ll let you know how the session goes.”
“Hello Hank,” Moira said through the speaker system. “Charles will fill you in on the M56 compound. I have to go. It’s past two for me. And I’d like to get some sleep. Oh, one last thing, I wouldn’t go blindly to that party.”
“You mean the reception at the Hellfire Club?”
“I don’t know much about it, Charles, but a friend from MI6 told me the place is a nest of vipers, Sebastian Shaw in particular.”
“I’m aware of Mr. Shaw and his associates. We’ll be careful.”
“Moira! Don’t you think it’s time for bed?” called a male voice in the background.
“Who’s that?” asked Charles, without thinking.
“That’s Dr. Cassidy. He’s a visiting scientist from Ireland. Good night, Charles, Hank. We’ll talk tomorrow.” Xavier’s screen blacked out.
Professor X looked out the window to his left and watched a vein of lighting spark several miles away.
“Charles, what’s going on?” Hank approached Xavier’s desk.
The Professor turned to his indigo colleague. “Moira ran some new tests on M56.” He noticed the blue hair framing McCoy’s face was wet and matted. “I won’t ask what happened to you.”
“I was talking to Ororo. She left to track the storm. M56 is the telepathy inhibitor, right?”
“Yes. Have a seat.” Xavier sensed McCoy’s reluctance to sink into one of the plush, silk upholstered armchairs. Beast was concerned his wet fur would soil the material. “Hank, sit down for goodness sake.”
McCoy seated himself, slowly. “You plan to use it on Jean?”
“I don’t know. I don’t want to. There are very significant risks. What we experienced together in Cerebro opened some sort of telepathic portal to some place or some thing I’m not even sure is real... But I felt a deep psychic connection between Jean and the story in the codex. I fear it’s growing stronger. She’ll be here tomorrow.”
“Yes. Everyone knows. You’re really worried about her. Why did you let her go back to school?”
“Because it’s the only chance she has. Normal human experiences – going to classes, interacting with other students, living in the city - might prevent her from losing sight of who she is. The worst action we could take would be to lock her up here against her will. That would force her to defy us. Then she could lose control…and burn through us all.” The rims of Xavier’s eyes were red.
“Charles, I must tell you,” McCoy began.
“Go on, Hank.”
“I spoke with Dr. Corbeau at Starcore. He took a look at the celestial patterns from the codex. He believes they refer to a solar system seventy-seven light years away, circling the star we call Ankaa or Alpha Phoenicis.”
“The Phoenix. Is he certain?”
“He’s quite sure. Coincidentally, he’s spent the past several months observing a phenomenon involving a much smaller, mysterious companion to Alpha Phoenicis. According to Starcore’s spectral analysis, the companion is the compressed remains of a nearly identical class K sun. It must have once been a co-orbital twin.”
“Alpha Phoenicis was part of a binary system…” Charles’ focus shifted to his computer display. His eyebrows drew inward forming dark creases along the bridge of his nose. The screen brightened, revealing a series of hieratic symbols.
“An unexplained event,” Hank went on, “which released a tremendous amount of energy, accelerated the rate of the companion’s thermonuclear development. The pressure from the collapsing nuclei created a diamond center - it’s almost as big as the moon.”
“In the codex, Shi’mor, the falcon of fire, consumes her heavenly sister, M’Kraan, leaving a smattering of ash surrounding a solitary crystal.” Xavier scanned the translation he’d finished an hour before. “A later part of the text calls the crystal ‘a source of unlimited power.’”
“Well, something exotic is powering it. Corbeau’s team has been tracking the position of the companion. It now appears to be on an altered trajectory. It’s no longer orbiting Alpha Phoenicis; in fact, it’s leaving the system. And the phenomenal thing is it’s moving faster than the speed of light.”
The dim fluorescent cylinder hanging above the pool table in the back of Sal’s flickered. Tony Mazzotti watched Logan draw back his cue. But Wolverine didn’t take the shot. Instead, he grabbed a small blue cube and chalked the tip. Then he stood, holding the stick, and stared at the green baize fabric.
He was acting weird, Tony thought. Usually Logan fluidly pocketed ball after ball. He seemed to lose himself in the game and would only come out of it to order a beer periodically. Something big must be bothering him. A booming thunder crack instantly pulled Mazzotti’s attention to the front of the bar. Pebble-sized hail peppered the plate glass window. The sound made Tony think of machine gun fire. Turning to Logan, his sole customer, he couldn’t detect the slightest awareness of the ferocious storm that was roaring outside. Wolverine remained standing by the pool table, his eyes fixed on the center of the green material, as if answers could be found there. Then he looked up. He returned the cue to the wall rack and walked over to the bar.
“Another beer?” Tony asked.
“Something stronger. I gotta get someone out of my head. Beer ain’t doing it tonight.”
“Bourbon always worked for me.” Tony poured gold-red liquor into a shot glass.
“All right.” Logan grabbed the drink with his rough fingers and raised it to his lips. “I’ll have four more.”
“You’re going to be okay on that Harley afterwards?”
“Twenty minutes. I’ll be fine.” Logan methodically downed two more shots. He was on his fourth when things outside changed dramatically.
Tony had never seen anything like it. The sheets of rain and hail slamming against the windows suddenly dissipated. But the storm continued to rage along the docks thirty feet away.
“That’s some crazy weather,” he said, pouring a shot of bourbon for himself. “It stopped raining here but across the street it’s still going strong…”
“That ain’t the weather.” The muscles in Logan’s face tensed.
A bolt of lightning lit up the block as a figure descended from above. Gusting winds blew open the door to the bar. A woman wearing a long billowing cloak entered. Her glowing white irises softened to brown while her whirling braids came to rest on her shoulders.
“You picked the wrong time to walk in here, ‘Ro,” said Logan.
“Why is that?” She came closer, into the lamplight; Tony was amazed by the sheen of her copper skin. “Because you’re drunk?” she asked. This lady did not look human. She was like a bronze statue that had been brought to life.
“Yeah.” Logan gulped his last shot. “Come back in fifteen minutes.”
“Why? What are you going to do?”
“Say stuff you don’t want to hear.”
Tony felt the hairs on his arms bristle in the charged air. The woman sat down next to Wolverine.
“I’ll have whatever you gave him,” she requested. Tony nodded, dumbly. His hands shook while he filled a glass.
“This is a bad idea. I only drink alone.” Logan motioned for Tony to pour him another as well.
“What are you afraid of?” She lifted her bourbon and tossed it down her throat.
“Talking to you.” He watched her swallow. “How’d you know how to find me?”
“I’ve tracked you here before. I saw your bike.”
“What do you want, ‘Ro?”
“I don’t want anything. I just want to know when I schedule a meeting and you agree to attend, that in fact you’ll be there. It’s not that much to ask.”
“Right now, it’s asking a hell of a lot.” The last swig of fire had done the trick. Logan appeared to be intoxicated.
“Why is that?” She leaned in.
“I had to leave.”
“When are you planning on returning?”
“I’m not going back tonight. Or tomorrow.” Wolverine studied the floor.
“Jean’s going to be at the mansion tomorrow. Are you trying to avoid her?”
“Don’t ask me that.” He met her gaze.
“Is there something between you?”
“She goddamned kissed me.” He looked down again. “The kid lifted me into the air… I stopped it.”
“She kissed you?” The woman's dark eyes began to lighten.
“Yeah, and now I can’t think about anything else. She messed with me. Damn telepath.” He tilted his head up and moved closer. “But you could make me forget…” He grasped her elbow which had been resting on the bar. “What do you say, ‘Ro?”
Her braids rose. “Don’t flatter yourself, Logan.”
A searing flash blinded Tony. He smelled smoke.
“God Dammit! Not fair, 'Ro.” Wolverine seethed. He sounded like he was in pain.
A massive gust shook the glasses above the bar and violently threw peanut bowls, cocktail napkins and plastic stirrers in every direction. Tony’s sight returned as the door to the street was torn from its hinges. Water and hail flooded inside as the white haired woman disappeared into the storm.