xp_logs | The Gates: Camlann

It's the afternoon of the big unity rally in Smichov. The eyes of the world are watching. One way or the other, what they see will make an impression.

He wasn't the only person on the roofs of Smichov this afternoon, that was the peculiar thing. There were others taking the literal high road. Flyers, most of them, but moving from roof to roof instead of going properly airborne. Maybe they're afraid they'll get shot down. None of them spared Nathan more than a glance, the bulk of their attention on the protestors below as the march wove through the streets of the ghetto.

There had to be a few thousand people here, at least. Nathan paused on the roof of a low-rise, very discreetly taking a few pictures from above of the march. It was the only way to appreciate the size of it properly, to see the way the people were packing the streets.

They weren't angry. Not as a group, at least. Nathan swallowed past the tightness in his throat. Men and women and children, visible mutants dotting the crowd here and there, and the overall telepathic was one of calm determination, and a strange, almost wild feeling of liberation.

What am I looking at? This wasn't what he had expected, not at all.

--

"... sources within the Czech military inform us that there is some sort of protest going on inside the Smichov security barrier at this hour. We're going live to our correspondent in Prague. George, do you see any signs of increased military activity?"

"Not as of yet, Elizabeth, although we've heard the same rumors you have. I'm just down the street from one of the checkpoints now, and-"

"Pardon me for interrupting, George, but we're receiving a feed from... what is it, a traffic camera? Yes, a traffic camera on one of the bridges, and it's giving us a look at what's going on inside Smichov. My goodness, that looks like a sizeable crowd.

--

The march had met the security barrier, and Nathan crouched down at the edge of the roof of the building where he was standing, peering down worriedly. He wasn't entirely sure what was going on, what the crowd was going to do next. There were people here and there standing on whatever would get them head and shoulders above the rest of the crowd. A few looked like they were trying to give speeches. Others just looked like they were trying to get a better view.

More pictures. He definitely needed more pictures. Nathan raised the camera and took a few, trying to shake the mental image of the crowd as a wave of people, a sentient wave trying to fight the urge to crash against the security barrier until concrete was worn down to dust and there was nothing separating them from the outside world.

His attention was drawn to a knot of people near the edges of the crowd. Something more focused was going on there, something...

His eyes widened as they moved. Towards the checkpoint. Walking very calmly, their children holding hands with them. There were soldiers there to meet them, and Nathan tensed as if expecting a blow himself.

He reached out with his telepathy, trying to see what was happening, what they would do. There were just so many people and he'd been exerting his telepathy so much that he couldn't focus on just a handful of people without some serious concentration.

Before he got the chance, the soldiers parted, and the small group walked through the gap.

And out of Smichov.

--

"... this is unbelievable, Elizabeth, there are people walking out of Smichov! Civilians, families from the look of it. A couple of dozen just in the last few minutes!"

"The soldiers at the checkpoints are allowing this?"

"They're escorting them through!"

"For all of you just joining us here on the BBC, we have live coverage from Prague, where the Czech army seems to be allowing civilians to depart Smichov. Whether this signals a chance in government policy is uncertain. But as you can see, at least one of the military checkpoints has opened the gates and allowed the people of Smichov to leave their neighborhood for the first time in weeks."

"One could almost call it a miracle, Elizabeth."

"Indeed, George."

--

It was when the first of the visible mutants in the crowd was permitted to pass through the checkpoint that Nathan started to wonder, wrestling with incredulous, dizzying joy, if this was actually the happy ending none of them had seen coming. The one that hadn't seemed possible.

The camera had a better zoom than he'd realized, and he took picture after picture of people streaming through the gates, of smiling soldiers looking like the weight of the world had been lifted off their shoulders.

There were TV cameras waiting outside for them, he realized as he leapt to another building, one closer to the security barrier. He'd known there were multiple news crews in Prague, keeping an eye on the situation. Were they all here? A blazing smile broke across Nathan's face.

"Real journalists," he murmured, fighting the urge to laugh. "To do proper interviews. You go, guys." He ought to have brought Angelo and the girls after all.

The smile fell off his face as quickly as it had come as, out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement on one of the bridges across the Vltava.

Tanks.

--

"... Elizabeth, I'm afraid that what's been happening here appears to have been unauthorized. We've just had six tanks arrive here at the security barrier. I can see their commander arguing with the officer in charge of the checkpoint..."

"George, how is the crowd reacting?"

"The air of jubilation here has receded somewhat. There are a few hundred people on this side of the security barrier, and they're remaining right where they are. The tanks... they've taken up position just across the street. We appear to have something of a standoff taking place."

"We're seeing that here, George. Has the passage of civilians through the checkpoint stopped?"

"I can't quite tell... yes, I believe so, Elizabeth. I don't know whether - oh dear God!"

--

It was an accident.

Every 'expert' who examined the video thereafter, whatever their perspective on what had happened in Smichov, agreed that what happened next hadn't been intentional. The crowd had been staying put, waiting peacefully to see what the military would decide, some even smiling and laughing with each other, seemingly unaware of the guns of the tanks just across the street. Whether they would have stayed that way had they been herded back into Smichov was another matter entirely, and in the end, a question that would never be answered.

Not everyone was as calm. Nathan, from his perch on the edge of the building just inside the barrier, saw a young man, no more than a teenager, get up from where he'd been sitting in the snow and stumble back towards the checkpoint. Retreating back inside, Nathan would later think, or maybe just away from the tanks.

It didn't matter, whatever he'd had in mind. When he tripped over someone still seated - tripped and fell, briefly losing control over some sort of energy-projection power, all the soldiers in the tanks saw was a flash of blue light, bright and unnatural.

It was the tank closest to the checkpoint that opened fire first.

Then two of the others followed.

--

"George, are you all right? George, can you hear me? ... I think we've lost him."

"... I'm here, Elizabeth!"

"George! Can you tell us what's happened?"

"Something in the crowd, a flash of light... I don't know whether it was directed against the tanks, but they've opened fire on the crowd and - there! Get the camera on that right now, Simon! Elizabeth, can you see that? It must be mutants among the crowd still inside, a whole portion of the security barrier is coming down, it's coming down, just collapsing right here as we're watching-"

--

It took Nathan longer to get back to the hotel than it should have. But flying, even leaping from roof to roof, was now out of the question - he didn't want to attract any more attention to himself than need be - and all of the people that hadn't been in the streets during the day at any time during the whole week had come out now. Of course.

Behind him, he heard the unmistakable sound of tank guns, firing again. And screaming.

They're not stopping. Icy shock gripped him, and he ran faster. Bursting through the doors of the hotel, Nathan took the stairs three at a time. He could sense the others, all in the one room - of course they are, Angelo would have made sure of that as soon as he heard the commotion - and came through the door so fast that it slammed into the wall, leaving a dent.

"Long story," he said rapidly as they turned to look at him. "Some of the protestors were allowed through the security barrier. Something happened, and the tanks outside fired on them." Then mutants in the crowd inside had reacted, a plasma-projector blowing an immense gap in the security barrier.

All it had been was an opening for the tanks. Which had made a few more of their own, rolling into Smichov.

Rahne had been expecting his arrival, but the words made her eyes widen and her ears lie back. "So that's the noise...."

Angelo was keeping well away from the window, for all the temptation to look and try to see what was going on outside, and turned to Nathan as he came in. "So this is it?"

"Sure as hell looks like-" The explosion rattled the building, and Nathan went right for the door out onto the balcony. He had to see. There was a column of inky smoke rising from somewhere near the checkpoint. "They're fighting back," he said, his eyes unfocusing as he pushed his mind out to the crowd. "The militants in the crowd. More energy-projectors... I see at least two tanks burning."

Medusa had followed Nathan out the door, halting at the edge of the balcony. "We must do something," she said forcefully, one hand rising to pat the hair she was barely managing to keep still, the other squeezing the railing tightly.

Rahne shifted all the way to wolf, listening, but didn't move after them. She'd like to do something, certainly, although yelling at everybody to stop what they were doing and think straight was not likely to have become more useful now than when the original decision was made. Reason? She suspected anyone involved was past stopping to listen to that either. First aid? Not much she could do in the middle of the street for someone shot by a tank or an energy projector, but maybe others.... Fight? Her nostrils flared; she sighed and rose to two feet again, shifting back.

Angelo turned to Nathan, almost pleading. "Nathan... I know we're just meant to be here as observers, but we can't just stay here when all that's goin' on outside. There has to be somethin' we can do to help, even if it's just damage control."

Another explosion. Nathan took a deep breath and then turned and walked into the room, letting Medusa follow. "They're not stopping," he said, his voice low and tight. "Those tanks. They rolled right into Smichov... I'd hazard a guess that things are confused right now. They may not get countermanding orders before the fighting gets so bad that they have no choice to continue."

They were all just watching him. "If we go out there," he said, "we go out into the middle of a battle. None of you have done that before. I don't-" Nathan stopped, swallowed. "I don't want to take any of you into that, but if you want to help more than you want to stay here, I will."

Medusa hesitated for a moment. Her parents would kill her. Then again, her parents were not there right now. She glanced at the balcony doors, her mind forming a picture of what it must be like on the streets. Her hair flared out and she nodded serenely. "I am ready to go."

Angelo was the next to nod, his only hesitation coming with a glance at Rahne. Then he looked straight at Nathan. "I'm goin' if you are."

Rahne had her doubts about this; despite Angelo's protective streak, she was fairly certain that Nathan could handle himself very well in this kind of situation and the rest of them... well. "I'll follow you," she said quietly, looking up at him. "What kind of help are we planning?" It was going to be confused enough; she'd rather start with some idea of coordination.

Nathan looked at Juliette; she merely nodded at him. He took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders. Let's pretend I have a plan...

--

"Elizabeth, we've been asked to return to our hotel. We have complied, although as you can see, we're filming from the balcony, to get the best view of Smichov possible. We can see new troops arriving and moving into Smichov, following the tanks."

"George, can you describe the scene at the security barrier just before you were forced to depart?"

"Carnage, Elizabeth, there's no other way to put it. We can only imagine what's going on in Smichov right now..."

--

It took only a few minutes to come up with something approximating a plan.

Getting to the medical clinic, Nathan had decided, would be a first step. That was one place where they knew they would be able to help, and they could make further decisions from there. By the time they got out of the hotel and up the small side street leading back to Matousova, however, the chaos had caught up with them. Nathan stopped dead, staring at the tank rolling down the street and the screaming people running away from it.

As he watched, a blue-white bolt of energy shot down at the tank from the rooftop of a building not far away from where he and the others were standing. It left a black scorch mark on the tank, but the tank's gun swiveled around - and fired, the noise deafening. The shot hit the top floor of the building, tearing through it.

Without a second thought, Medusa extended her hair, black edges wrapping around the ankles of two people standing near the building and yanking them out of the way of falling cement. "So much for staying incognito," she said calmly as she set the couple down a safe distance from the debris. Red roots were now clearly visible as Medusa's hair flared out.

"So much for being safer if we'd stayed in the hotel room," Rahne muttered. It wasn't necessarily true, and she knew it; they might not, for instance, have had energy projectors firing highly visible bolts off the roof. She glimpsed a blue-white flare nearer the ground and wondered if that one had versatile enough powers to have escaped the shot.

"It's not too late to go back in", Angelo said over his shoulder, moving to stand at Nathan's side. He was as worried for the others' safety as anyone. "Stay low, an' you might be safer."

"No. We're all going to the clinic," Nathan said, staring hard at the tank. Something happened, as he did - there was a crunch of metal and both of the tank's tracks fractured abruptly, disabling it. "Come on," he said tightly. "Follow me and stay low."

Medusa looked like she might argue for a minute, then remembered her promise and started following Nathan. Her hair swirled around her, shielding her body, and she kept her eye out for debris or people in danger. Perhaps she would gloss over this part of her experience in her report to Blackager.

Angelo spared barely a glance for the tank before he walked on, barely a step behind Nathan, keeping his head down almost unconsciously. He kept an eye on Rahne as they went... just in case.

Rahne didn't entirely appreciate that Angelo seemed to have taken her comment the exact opposite of how she'd intended it, but she told herself sternly that it was loud and chaotic and they were probably all a little on edge. And she did, admittedly, have the least distance-operable power of any of them.

On the other hand, she doubted her hands were going to be clean when she reached the clinic in any event, and she was certainly suited to staying low. Before she moved into the open, she dropped to all fours, her shirt and slacks and even shoes shrinking up, not to a collar, but to a dog-harness that kept the few items she'd carried in a pocket against her chest. Her tail flagged straight out behind her as if she were hunting.

Nathan noted Rahne's change of shape, and reminded himself to tell her later what a good idea that was. It seemed highly unlikely that anyone would think to get hostile at what appeared to be an animal, and Rahne's senses in that form would probably serve her well. There was another explosion, this time well behind them, and Nathan looked back over his shoulder to see another plume of smoke. As the echo faded, he heard gunfire. "Let's pick up the pace a bit, shall we..."

Angelo's head had snapped round at the sound of shots, and he was staring tensely that way. "Yeah, I think that'd be a very good idea."

Ladies did not run, but Medusa seemed to glide quickly across the streets, slowing her pace as the group drew near the clinic. She had faith in her hair blocking all sorts of debris, but she had never tried to block bullets. The closest she had come had been ripping guns out of the hands of assassins some seven years earlier and that was not an experience she was eager to repeat.

Inside was controlled chaos, although there were few wounded in evidence just yet. The doctor who had shown Medusa and Rahne around the clinic was issued terse orders in Czech to his staff to move the patients already there farther into the building and away from the windows. He stopped, staring at the newcomers for a moment before recognition hit as his eyes lit on Rahne and Medusa.

"Are any of you hurt?"

Rahne dusted off hands that had recently been paws. "No," she said swiftly. "But we've all had basic first-aid training or better, and follow instructions well. We came to help."

"Good," Kucera said immediately, without a moment's hesitation. "I suspect we're going to need it." Another explosion rattled the building - the whole building, not just the windows, and he winced, then looked to Angelo and Nathan, identifying them as the two physically strongest of the group. "Could the two of you help move the patients away from the windows?"

Nathan nodded. "I'm a telekinetic," he said crisply. "If you point out to me where you want the beds to go, I can move the patients in them."

"That... would be helpful."