xp_logs | Nathan and Cain, Monday (Reply)

Nathan returns from Muir and catches up on the news from the weekend. Some obvious questions are raised.

Cain's suite door was open, but Nathan knocked on the doorframe anyway, leaning against it. "Remind me to stop going to Muir for weekends," he said with a sigh. "I seem to miss a lot, sometimes."

"Yeah, your personal band of future-ghost-worshipping loonies went and bombed a priest," Cain replied, sketching on a large piece of paper taped to his drafting board. "Seems like our little double agent chippie got the info to us a bit too little, too late."

"There's an interesting question," Nathan muttered, then looked up and down the hall. No one there, but still... He came in, pulling the door shut behind him. "Once upon a time, I used the same sort of tactic," he said. "I'd make a lot of noise, while Dom or someone equally sneaky went around the back way and blew up the target. I suppose I'm wondering if Callery was just too late."

Cain set down his outsized mechanical pencil and slowly turned around on the sturdy hydraulic pedestal that served as a drafting stool. Elbows resting on his kneed, he perched like an almost-comic gargoyle and looked over at Nathan. "You're sayin' that you're wonderin' if she played us," he accused.

"It's an obvious question, Cain. I can guarantee you Scott's wondering about it." He'd caught up on the weekend's events by talking directly to Scott, and that had slipped through the younger man's usually disciplined thoughts. "I don't know, though. The only time I met the woman was in Ushuaia, and I wasn't precisely in the condition to draw any conclusions about how trustworthy she was."

"I've tussled with her a few times," Cain drawled, cracking his knuckles one at a time. "She's a rock-stubborn fighter, that's for sure. And Summers trusts her to be on the side of the angels, Ororo too. Me? I ain't so sure. I mean, she didn't ask too many questions working for your uncle, you know? Sellin' people like property, the shit he was doing. Takes a certain kinda mindset to turn a blind eye to it just for a paycheck."

"Yeah... and you know, there's an even worse possibility," Nathan said. "What if they're playing her? I mean, Charles is presumably keeping an eye out for Trask running around on the astral plane around here, and Jean's told me that Callery herself can't be read, but there's got to be at least a few people over in Hungary besides this Lakatos who know what Callery's doing." Nathan sighed, rubbing briefly at his temples. "Tara's exactly the right kind of crazy to let something like this play out as a test, too."

Cain shook his head. "I ain't any good at these kind of games," he admitted. "When I was in the war, hell, back when it was just a 'police action', we were supposed to be making nice with the locals. Learnin' how to tell who was friendly and protectin' them, and diggin' out who were the sympathizers, y'know? The ones who'd smile at you, 'you okay, number one G.I.', and then turn around and radio the Reds with how many Marines came through their paddy this week."

He wiped his forehead, as if trying to clear the unpleasant memories. "It got to where a lot of Marines just started figuring any one of 'em could be VC, and we started pullin' back our patrols. I got no idea how many good people wound up lost because of that, because of some 'your side-my side' game. Double agents, triple agents, all way above my pay grade. This?" He shrugged. "It's got the same stink."

"I don't know what to think," Nathan said heavily. "Aside from Callery, it's pretty obvious that Trask has Saidullayev training her people. And Amber Hunt, for fuck's sake... I had to keep Moira from tearing her own hair out. We need to find out what happened there."

"Can't save 'em all, Nate," Cain cautioned. "Me, I'm just glad that Russian bastard wasn't there. Tough enough without adding a brain-o-path into the mix, no offense."

"Hey, Jean handed him his ass in Chechnya. Or would have, if we hadn't had to flee the airstrike." Nathan grumbled something under his breath in Askani, then focused on Cain again. "Did Callery talk to you, at all? I haven't read the mission report yet - just heard Scott's version."

"Much as I think she could. Got the idea that she was scared about folks listening in," Cain replied. "Something about the promised land, standard wacko talk. But... not like she was buying in? If I had to make a guess, gut feeling? I'd say she's still with us. Dangerous game for the little gal, though."

Well, that was good news. But something about Cain's wording nagged at him, and Nathan sank into a chair, frowning. "The promised land... in reference to something Trask said?"

Cain shook his head. "Something about working for Gideon just being foreshadowing, something like that. Wasn't going to give up on the promised land. Trask promising a better world, that was it. Why, that mean something?"

"It's not Askani imagery, but it was used in their time," Nathan said, sounding increasingly troubled. "It was more symbolic than anything else. The promised land was a... clean world." His mouth twisted bitterly. "Or a cleansed world, rather. The Askani fought the people who talked like that."

Cain rolled his eyes. "Great. So now it ain't enough that we got ghosts from the future, now we got Nazi ghosts from the future. The Hundred-and-Third Reich or some shit. You think that means Trask's got some sorta, whatchacallit, Final Solution? Any weird future memories about that - listen to me," he chuckled to himself. "Talkin' all serious about it. Ain't no use thinking too hard on what some folks think's comin', or some weird prediction bullshit. Me, you just point me at what needs hitting, and I'll show you the goddamn better world. Beer?"

Drinking beer with Cain, or pondering what it meant that Trask was apparently suddenly talking like the people who had wiped out the Askani? Well, he knew what his choice was, at least for tonight. "Fuck, yes," Nathan said, vehemently.