Genosha: In the Balance - Semantics

[x-jeangrey.livejournal.com]

The next day, the interrogators try to talk to Amanda again.

Warning: Mention of child death.



"Amanda." The man spoke as he entered the room, pausing to nod to her before quietly shutting the door behind himself and moving to sit across from her. "Have you been offered refreshments? Tea? Something for breakfast other than the usual? It's difficult to cook something worth eating for so many in the penal setting."

"'M fine." The young woman sitting opposite him looked surly, her arms folded across her chest and her hair pulled into a loose ponytail to reveal the growing bruise from the blow to the head she'd received when captured.

"I did suspect you might not be as interested in a conversation this time. I heard there were some antics. As a group, you've all displayed some impressive tactical coordination." Brian set pen to paper. "Were you recruited to attend school at Xavier's Institute?"

"Recruited?" Amanda sighed and shook her head. More of the whole 'Xavier's as a training school for terrorists' deal. "No, I wasn't. I was sent there from England by my guardian to learn how to control my powers. That's what the school does. It teaches young mutants how to not blow themselves up."

"But they do recruit. Send people out to talk to prospective students directly." Brian cited as fact. "Were you trained in tactics as part of learning to control your powers?"

"What do you mean by "tactics"?" Amanda asked, blinking at him as if she didn't understand the question.

"The ability of a collection of individuals to operate capably as a cohesive unit." Brian rattled off disinterestedly. "I'm getting the feeling you're not as interested in speaking with me this time. Previously you said you came to get your sister and some people followed you. It appears even more people are following them. The coincidence is growing to unreasonable levels."

"Maybe I don't want to talk because I don't like how my friends are being treated," Amanda replied, almost sulkily. "How's torture fit in with your whole 'we only want to help you' schtick?"

"Enhanced interrogation techniques." Brian acknowledged with a nod. "I advocate against them, though I'm sure that's of little comfort. You must realize that mutant terrorism is more dangerous than even nuclear terrorism, however. When people feel threatened, they accept all sorts of things. The best way I can prevent this is by doing my job well, I'm afraid. We don't all like the system we find ourselves in."

"Po-tay-to, po-tah-to," she sneered. "One man's terrorist is another man's freedom fighter. And you were the ones who threatened us first by taking the kids."

"I didn't mean to suggest that's my position." Brian offered with a shrug. "The mujaheddin literally translates to freedom fighter, I believe. It didn't stop a subset called Al Qaeda from being labeled as a terrorist cell. I can't say that 'we' only want to help you but that is my personal goal. It is my belief that only the tiniest portion of the population could truly be considered evil. Most people just do what they think is right."

"And did you think it was right when your government grabbed a school outing and dumped them in your cells? Or when a six year old was put through your fucking mutate process and didn't make it?" For the first time in her questioning, Amanda showed more emotion than 'befuddled confusion'. "You're the aggressors here, Brian. Don't pretend you aren't."

"Amanda, shall I go through the historic actions of the American or British governments?" Brian asked calmly. "It would be ridiculous because you were not consulted on those decisions and citizenship doesn't mean agreement. You could make an argument that I should quit my job if I disagree with the government but that leaves every position populated by zealots."

Brian sighed a bit. "I understand you are angry and I understand why. I would like to help you, to do what I can in my small sphere of influence, and I think you would like that too. Perhaps we should take a moment and I'll get you that tea?"

"Moira MacTaggart is like a mum to me," was Amanda's reply. "And your people murdered her daughter. Tea isn't going to cut it this time, sunshine." She folded her arms over her chest. "Better bring out the hot pincers - you won't get anything else from me."