A Haven to Call Home: Mahapralaya
Nov. 11th, 2023 11:07 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsMahapralaya. The Great Dissolution. Quentin reveals his secrets, and X-Factor Investigations, aided by Haller, plans and executes their showdown at Haven.
Today…
It was, as ever, a lovely day at the commune. Undeniably autumn, outdoors activity was minimal, but a few people were mingling about, preparing for winter. Exiting Abhay Dastoor's bungalow and gently shutting the door behind him, Quentin spotted a familiar purple face. The telepath frowned. What he was about to do risked harming Madin in a way he desperately wanted to avoid, but it was too late now. The best he could do was minimize the suffering.
"Hey. How's it going?" he asked while his mind reached out to contact the other two waiting a short ways away. "Almost ready, just . . . give me a minute to lay some damage control."
Madin was once again on hamper duty, packing them at one of the larger tables and chatting with a few of the others. It was almost fun and seeing the bracelets tied around the hamper strings was nice. It was the first time they'd ever seen something they'd made be put to use like this. They stiffened when they heard Quentin's voice, turning to face him, holding a bunch of bok choy in each hand. "Hi."
There was something so quaint and idyllic about the scene before him that he felt his guts twist at the thought of what he was about to do. What was this sensation? Guilt? He hated it and made a note to excise it from his brain so he would never experience it again.
"Have you seen Radha around? She and I need to have a . . ." Reckoning. "Chat."
There was something off about him. Madin put the vegetables down and moved around the table, shrugging. "Why are you asking?"
He desperately wanted to tell them to leave, to escape before this confrontation. But he needed witnesses, people to learn the truth behind the lies that had built this place. He needed Madin here.
The woman appeared as if out of thin air just a few yards away. "Never mind, get here NOW." Quentin infused the message with profound urgency as he stepped past Madin to approach Radha. "Just . . . I'm sorry I put you through this," he said to Madin, not facing them, "I didn't know."
Haller appeared from around the corner of another bungalow, followed by curious looks from some of the other residents. The psi nodded politely but otherwise didn't engage. When he saw the younger mutant, however, he hesitated.
"Hey, Madin." More was on the tip of his tongue, but stopped himself. Now wasn't the time. Instead Haller took a breath and turned his attention back to Quentin.
~Ready?~ he asked.
~*~
Two days ago…
Recaffeinated, re-intoxicated, and rehydrated, the X-Factor investigators once more gathered in the conference room. Quentin offered their special guest the seat across from him so they would never leave each other's scrutiny.
"Radha wants to build a Noah's Ark for mutants to survive the inevitable catastrophe she calls the Mahapralaya, the Great Dissolution," Quentin began. "Most human and mutant life on Earth will die, but her little pocket dimension would survive. Problem is that she can't maintain it for long or keep it large enough to hold all of Haven.
"So the truth of my work with Radha Dastoor this past month is this: I used my telepathy to anchor her dimension in the astral plane. It allows her to draw on its infinite psychic energies to stabilize herself so it can grow and sustain itself indefinitely. Earth could literally be annihilated and no one in her pocket dimension would be harmed."
The only non-member of X-Factor Investigations stared at Quentin in disbelief. After being in the younger man's head Haller thought he had a better understanding of him than most, but the sheer recklessness of what he'd just confessed was staggering. Quentin knew how dangerous interference with the astral plane could be. Astral debris from fractured realities had metastasized into a thing that had nearly swallowed them both. And now Quentin sat here dispassionately explaining how he'd cultivated a nearly identical phenomenon for a woman he barely knew.
The intentionality of it somehow made it worse. Quentin could be brash, but he wasn't stupid; he had to have been aware of the risks. He'd simply decided they were worth taking. He hadn't asked for the mansion's advice, nor its permission. He'd simply acted. Looking at Quentin's face, Haller couldn't help but wonder: Were you really so angry with us?
But Quentin hadn't asked him here for recriminations. That was a conversation for another time.
"So she wants to bring about global cataclysm," Haller said aloud, "and you built her a fortress she could watch from."
Hope simply stared only blinking once or twice. "You did what with the astral plane? How does that work exactly?" She asked as she tried to picture it. She related with the plane in a very different way then QQ did, but this was almost outside her imagination. She had no trouble picturing the risks though.
Arthur, however, was happier to take the high road here. "Or... were you trying to give her options? Not just picturing a world without prejudice and greed, but creating one. Truly the safe haven she preaches about."
"The specifics aren't important for now," Quentin calmly answered Hope, not offering Haller the satisfaction of rising to his censure. "But yes, I wanted to help her, or at least keep an eye on her. She's the first person who has offered an alternative to the binary mutants have been stuck with for the past three decades, and she's done more than most to unite mutants under one cause. It would be foolish to let her continue alone and unmonitored. Even if the Mahapralaya is garbage, there are people who believe her actual tangible work can lead to a better world. And I think . . ." He sighed and looked down at his hands folded on the table. "Before we do anything drastic, we need to give her a chance to tell the truth. But that means we need to come armed with the truth ourselves. We can't give her quarter to continue to deceive anyone."
~*~
Today…
Madin blinked. "Hi. I didn't know any of you were coming here. Um."
"No," was Quentin's response to Haller. "But when have I ever let that stop me?" He should have just pulled a psychic shotgun and taken her out right there, be done with it. But even if he could blast through her blackbox brain, it would just cause the rest of Haven to turn on them. No, they needed to tear her down piece by piece, reveal the truth of Radha Dastoor to her adherents, and hope they had enough sense left to understand the truth and leave.
"So, were you ever going to tell me the truth about how you're bringing about your Mahapralaya yourself with Josie and Abhay or were you planning to make me another victim once I'd given you what you wanted?" Quentin's challenge called the attention of all the mutants outside, who stopped dead in their tracks, because who in their right mind would speak to her with such disrespect and contempt?
Radha tilted her head, curious. “A victim?” she asked. “We will all be victims of the Mahapralaya, Quentin. Even those who choose to be saved will know suffering. I cannot prevent that.”
"There were a couple hundred cases of misery you could have prevented if you hadn't sent Josie to infect them with her own home-grown mutant plague," the telepath countered. "On your orders, your brother's tornadoes and typhoons took away people's homes and livelihoods in Washington, Oklahoma, New York. Great suffering is coming? It's at your hands."
Josie had come scurrying out of one of the bungalows as soon as the crowd had begun to gather. Now the mousey woman bristled like an angry cat. "What are you talking about?" she demanded, red blotches rising in her cheeks. "Just because I'm the one who told you people were getting sick I have to be the one who caused it? I just wanted you to be safe!"
The small woman made as if she was about to storm towards them, but lurched as she found her feet telekinetically fixed to the ground.
"Don't come any closer, please," Haller said. He hadn't even turned his head.
~*~
Two days ago…
"I already mentioned I have been doing a deep dive in the background of Radha Dastoor. I also did some basic research on her brother and one or two other close associates." Hope rose, moving over to the whiteboard that stood nearby. "The bare facts you already know. Born in Mumbai, scion of a wealthy family, one brother and well-known humanitarian until she decided to mostly disappear and found Haven. She re-emerged speaking of the Mahapralaya, specifically recruiting mutants." Hope picked up a black marker, quickly noting down the most important points. "When I went deeper I focused on three important elements, namely her financials, her associates and her psychology. The investigation of her associates is still ongoing and I already mentioned that in her texts and seminars she matches a lot of the characteristics of fanaticism and a cult leader... she is a very charismatic figure for one, has quite a few touches of arrogance and she believes she can save the world." She added a few notes to the board.
"Her finances provide an interesting insight. At first sight they are squeaky clean, but once you start digging deeper, certain things become clear. For one, she purchased materials to produce tear gas and the protective equipment to do so. Funding to get certain of her associates to locations matching the strange incidents of mutant illness. And even more." Grabbing her tablet, she quickly hit a few buttons. "I just forwarded a summary to your emails."
For a moment all was silent as eyes went towards their screens before Sue dropped her tablet onto the table and sighed, "I can't believe I didn't think about checking that before, good call. It looks exactly like she's playing a shell game with her finances, I'd do the same if I wanted to buy something without it being traced back to me, at least not easily. Takes time, effort and a lot of planning, not something you'd do if you were on the up and up." Blue eyes examined Quentin for a moment for a moment as she sat back in her chair, she really didn't understand much about the Astral plane, just thinking about it made her head hurt but it didn't sound good. "With all the evidence, with everything we've seen, is she worth it? Is she really worth risking yourself to give her a chance to explain herself?"
Quentin's brown eyes met her blues and held her gaze. "Yes." There was no doubt in his voice. "We have to keep the path open for restoration. At least to show her own people we're not there to martyr their savior. She won't accept it, of course. She's convinced of her own righteousness and won't budge. And yes, I'm aware of the irony of me saying that. But it should go without saying that this trait I admire so much makes her extra dangerous, and she'll undoubtedly want to show that off."
~*~
Today…
"Josephine Sarcina, RN." Quentin did turn his attention to the young woman and did not bother to hide his disdain for her, either. "Could you kindly tell us about Tom Molloy? Antonio Cortes? Samantha Lin? I could go on with the list of patients who, under your tender care, suffered various medical crises more extreme than what brought them to you in the first place, and who, if they even survived, miraculously recovered only because of your timely intervention. We spoke with your former colleagues at Cranston Memorial Institute. Well, 'spoke' is inaccurate, because no one wanted to discuss 'Nurse Infectia.' But we looked at the data. Did you know that once you left, there weren't any more instances of sudden-onset neurologic illness? Admission, discharge, and death rates suddenly matched those of other nearby hospitals. You weren't unfairly terminated because of anti-mutant prejudice. Your power is literally to spread disease, and you used that to satisfy your Munchausen by proxy syndrome."
He paused before continuing, forcing himself to remain calm and collected. "Two hundred cases of mutant plague, and that's just what the CDC has deigned to recognize. Communities have fallen apart. Does that make you happy? Does that benefit mutantkind? Or does it just call the flocks to Haven?"
Josie's face was almost purple. She glanced around for support, but found more than a few expressions were transforming from confusion to anger and disbelief.
"Is that true?" asked a green-skinned woman. There was only the slightest quaver in her voice, but the viney growths in her hair stirred like Medusa's serpents. "Can you make people sick?"
"Did you make us sick?" asked another man. There was an edge of pleading to it, as if he'd been compelled to ask the question against his will.
More murmurs were starting around them. At a loss, Josie turned to Radha in mute appeal.
“The world makes you sick,” said Radha, her tone more impatient than soothing. “You all know this. You know the Great Dissolution comes. That the only safe place there will be is in the Haven that we make.” Radha’s glance at Quentin was full of sudden fire. “The world provides me what I need to bring you here, make you safe. Whatever I need.”
Quentin had expected some spark of rebellion to ignite among the commune, but while a few spoke up, he sensed several more resisting him. Some simply in denial, unable to accept their beatific saint wasn't all she seemed, but others were so firmly enchanted by Radha that her lies were their truth.
"No, you engineered the circumstances that brought desperate people to you so you could exploit their vulnerabilities and craft an illusion of safety. When the humans come for us—and they will, because you're goading them to, just look at the riot in New York after the hurricane that your brother conjured—you'll bring us inside you and you'll rule us all. Because everything is under your command in Haven, is it not? This golden age you preach, it's just your heart, isn't it? Your twisted, wicked, black heart."
He sighed, and for the first time expressed weariness and regret in his face and posture. "I wanted to believe in you. I did. But I can't suffer your lies and exploitation. You have to end this before you take it too far and damn us all."
Radha laughed, a rich chuckle. “Of course I control Haven,” she said. “I am Haven and it is me. But I offer it freely to those who wish to survive to the new age. I offer myself to them. What did your last messiah offer you? Protection from a world that hates and fears you? How many child soldiers has he churned out to protect his dream? How many mutants have died to keep Xavier safe, cowering inside his Mansion, leading from the rear?”
Very briefly, the older psi's mouth tightened in concession. "Too many," he said. "But at least the choice he offers us is honest." Haller touched two fingers to his own temple. "Healing a disease you spread, sheltering against violence you incited. You're not offering anything. Just driving people to your new world like cattle into a chute."
“This?” Radha spread her hands wide, a dramatic gesture as the commune’s natural beauty intensified, blossomed with flowers and the babble of stream and whisper of music intertwined. “I give you this,” she pitched her voice louder then, aimed at the commune’s citizens, who looked around them, “and he accuses me of treating you like cattle. I bring you into my heart,” Radha’s eyes flashed as she drew her hand to her chest again, a beckoning, comforting gesture, “and he accuses me… us,” she gestured more widely, at Josie and the others who helped her run the commune, “of drawing you into a trap.” She flung her hand wide, a gesture that encompassed the commune around them. “Does my heart look black and wicked to you?”
Murmurs ran through Radha's followers. Haller noted many of them seemed to be gravitating into their own small pockets, some of them defiant, but others increasingly uncomfortable. There wasn't consensus here, but where there was faith it blazed like an inferno. One man fell rapturously to his knees, wailing "Radha!"
Madin had been here before. The sheer wonder of the paradise, the perfection and the beauty hadn't faded. They were- they all were- so fucked in comparison to this place. Of course it was Haller here. The mansion could never leave anything alone. They had to fuck everything good in the world up. "Jesus fucking Christ, Haller. Leave them fuck alone. You're fucking full of shit and they're not fucking killing people. They're just trying to make it a better place." Energy flickered around their hands. "Seriously, leave Radha the fuck alone. We don't want you fucking this place up." They called out to the others, rallying support. "He's gonna fucking telepath her and take this away from us."
"Everyone stay where you are, please." Madin's arms immediately locked at their sides, as if they'd been swaddled by an invisible blanket, and noises from those others present indicated something similar had happened to them. Haller turned his attention away from Radha and shook his head.
"Madin, three days ago Radha sent people into District X during a counter-protest with the FOH. They passed out care packages that had been dosed with the virus Radha's been warning people about. Some food, some water. Some jewelry as a little calling card. Things people would take. Then they set off a bomb in the middle of the rally. Dozens of mutants triggered, including two X-Men. We think her brother was behind flooding it last week, and then they turned into a riot. Now the news is full of people talking about banning large gatherings of mutants in public, or doubling up police presence. Sending people into the community to make mutants register their powers because all the destruction just proves the bigots are right. That's how Radha is building her paradise. She's making the rest of the world hell." He looked at the young mutant's expression, and softened. "I'm sorry, but there's proof."
Madin shook their head. "That's not true. She'd never do anything like that. Radha wants to help people."
The psi turned his blue eyes to the woman who stood just a few meters away. She regarded him with the same look of star-field coldness she had the day she'd dismissed him from her presence. She stood in the faintest nimbus of light -- untouchable, supremely confident. A goddess come to walk among her followers. His power couldn't touch her in this place. She was this place.
"I think she truly believes that," Haller said. "It's her version of 'help' that I doubt. We'll talk about it later, okay?"
“Mine is the only version of help that will matter when the Mahapralaya comes,” said Radha. “There will be no safe place, no hiding place, no end to horror. Your Mansion will crumble and your X-Men will be ended. You have not seen what is coming but I have and in the end there will be no safe place to stand, no place to hide, no place to retreat to or return from, except for those I shelter.” She held her arms wide, encompassing all that surrounded them. “In the end, there will be only me.”
Everything she said sounded so good, so righteous. Of course the humans would come for mutants, and what chance at survival did they have without Haven? Quentin surveyed the bubble of paradise, the almost one hundred mutants who had united to mutually assure their safety and prosperity. But.
~*~
Two days ago…
"So you're going to provoke her." Haller leaned forward, fingers laced. "I agree that her people need to know what's going on. She's specifically targeting the sick and the persecuted -- saving a life gets you the kind of loyalty you can't buy. If she's not exposed for what she is things are going to go very, very badly. But in her world her power is absolute. I saw her reaction when I wasn't appropriately grateful to her. If you defy her in front of everyone . . ." Haller's eyes flicked up to Quentin's. "I know you've already beaten death once, but in that place? I don't know if there'd be enough left of you for a second time."
"I don't need to overpower her," Quentin chided Haller, "Just outmaneuver her. She thinks she's three steps ahead of everyone, but if she were, then she would have vetted me before she came crawling for help. She thought she had me hook, line, and sinker, and she only bought that because I led everyone else to believe the same thing. And yeah, part of me wanted to devote myself to her, but come on. You should also know I'm too fucking cynical for that. So, I built a failsafe into the astral scaffolding. The stability of Haven in the astral plane is entirely up to me. I yank the right thread and Haven is marooned in psychic space with no way back to the material world. The SAG-AFTRA strike is over, so you can give me my Oscar for best leading man."
An eyebrow raised. For just a moment, Haller was able to look past the situation and allow himself to be impressed. He knew Quentin's reaction to perceived injustice could sometimes push him into reckless behavior, but Haller had never taken him for a fool. It was a relief to know he'd been right.
"I see." The older psi nodded slowly, reworking his mental calculus. "Okay. That's something we can work with."
~*~
Today…
"It's all down to you. You get to decide who is worthy of you and who isn't. What happens when you decide someone is no longer valuable to you? How are we supposed to trust each other, rely on each other, build a world that can survive the end, if the wrong step means being expelled from paradise? Or worse. You're right, you have the power here. Pure, uncontested, tyrannical power."
His eyes flashed pink as a hundred minds were opened to his. The cacophony would have overwhelmed a lesser psi, but Quentin Quire was the self-crowned Kid Omega. He pushed back against everyone's fear and anger and showed them something worse.
The truth.
The woman's mind was a void.
Some might think a lack of emotion would leave no trace, but the hollowness that resonated throughout Josie was so profound that it created a mirror that was unavoidable and unfillable. Any bouts of emotion pinged this chasm with a ring louder than some might feel loss, love, or anger.
"Loop the cord at least three times. Keep it loose so you can pass the end through." It was a chorus of memory, a well practiced facade of cheer that became an ingrained habit as Josie taught each and every member of their commune the same pattern.
Once. Again, again, again. Thousands of hands, all overlaid in the same pattern so that they only formed a single memory. The same smile, and the same sense of self-disgust at the act. Loops of a performance braided into a pattern with eight beads.
Except for the first.
"And we don't want to be appropriative, of course," Josie joked. "Make it a symbol. A little bit of the past, a little bit of now." She was practically vibrating with triumph as she closed the final knot.
Radha sat across from her, hands folded.
"But then, we create a need for a savior," the once nurse delivered with a flourish.
In demonstration, the woman took the bracelet and turned it over in her hands. There was no visual queue, but the focus in Josie's mind shifted with each rotation. She pictured every patient she'd ever helped. Every smile she was forced to give, even to her mother. Everyone in need of her care. Helpless. Under her power. It was her only true thrill: compounding the wonders of chemistry into a power that brought everyone under her control.
"I've found I can use my power to deliver the infection over time, or key it to a chemical spike. Dopamine, adrenaline, oxytocin. Either way, they'll come crawling back."
Radha smiled without the gesture reaching her eyes. "For a healing only my heart can provide."
The color drained from Josie's face as if someone had opened her carotid artery.
“It's a lie!” All pretense of bubbly helpfulness was gone. The woman spun to the other followers, her shrill screech hitting the ears at the same decibel as a cornered animal. Josie flung a shaking hand at Quentin, eyes bulging. "He's a telepath, he's lying to you! I would nuh . . . you know me!"
Madin scrabbled at their wrist, tearing off the bracelet and looked accusingly at Josie. "I can't believe you fucking poisoned the bracelets. What the fuck is fucking wrong with you? They killed people. They killed mutants. Like Jesus fucking Christ, anyone could be wearing them." There was a pause. "I'm wearing one! You fucking gave me one when I got here, you fucking psycho bitch." There was a whole basket of bracelets on the table where they'd been working on them earlier. Madin's shoulders stooped as they looked away from Josie and back to the bracelets. "You were nice," they whispered
Josie turned on them, and for the first time Madin could see in the woman's eyes -- nothing. Not shame, not regret, not even anger. The illusion of humanity was gone. Now all that looked back was the dead emptiness that was the center of her.
The murmurs started again. For the first time, the atmosphere among Radha's followers began to curdle.
“Nice,” Radha’s voice cut through the air like a whip. “Safe. Docile. Cowardly.” Scorn dripped from Radha’s words. “The world does not change because you are nice. Here, here in my haven, I can do anything,” she said, and she raised her hand, fingers splayed. For a moment Josie looked startled and then she exploded, became a shower of blood, that stopped in mid-air, became red crystals shimmering across the sky, contracted again into Josie, gasping, falling to her knees. “But what I cannot do, in the world you want so desperately to keep the same, is make them listen to me. We burn the world. The leader of the United Nations tells us that we are past the age of global warming, that we are in the age of global boiling. And what does the human world do, as it burns and floods and dies? It laughs and forgets and pretends nothing is happening. Words are not enough. Nice is not enough. And so we show people what is coming. What will be.” And Radha chuckled suddenly, warm, forgiving, unexpected. “And it is not nice.”
Still bound to every mind in Haven, Josie's violent death and instant resurrection was like Radha had set off a pressure cooker full of shrapnel in Quentin's brain. He physically recoiled as if Radha had directly struck him. "WE ARE MUTANTS!" His voice boomed through Haven as he steadied himself. "We are the next step in human evolution. We are supposed to be better than them! Humans destroy. Humans scorch the earth because if they can't have something, then no one can. This new mutant age you want to build? That you get to rule alone and command others to submit to you? It's just the same old flatscan bullshit. You're not a revolutionary, you're just a run-of-the-mill snake oil merchant."
~*~
Two days ago…
"Speakin' of workin' with things," Inez pointed out, "we could potentially use any of her followers that get spit right back out as hostages too, if we need 'em for that," she reckoned. "Though I imagine some of 'em won't be too pleased to be yanked outta there... we'll have to keep them in line too, yeah?"
Quentin nodded. "She has more than a few diehards who won't see reason. Leave Abhay to me. His psychic shields are strong for a non-psi, but I've been around him enough that I can figure out how to break them without breaking him. He's no threat. And neither is Josie if she doesn't touch anyone. But that still leaves the problem of keeping everyone else safe when we're stuck in her heart."
"Until you pull the plug, her world is connected to the astral plane." Haller looked down at his clasped hands, brow knitting. An idea was starting to form. "If that's the case . . . I think I can help with that."
"Do you want to share with the class?"
"How many people are there, about a hundred? Yeah. I think I can handle that." The older psi sat back in his chair, the fingers of one hand moving aimlessly against the tabletop. He could feel Arthur's eyes on him. Haller avoided his gaze and met Quentin's instead.
"A side-effect or Radha's 'fix,'" the X-Man said, gesturing towards his head. "It turns out that when you fuse telepathy and telekinesis -- or remove an imposed division between them, I guess -- the barrier between material and immaterial gets a little arbitrary. As long as I have access to the astral plane I think I can arrange things in a way that will allow for an evacuation. The problem is I don't think I'll be able to do the actual moving myself. Hope?"
Hope narrowed her eyes, looking thoughtful. "You wish for me to carry the people through the astral plane, so to speak?" She paused, considering: "While I can move freely around the astral plane and shift back and forth almost as freely, I do not have the ability nor the power to carry one hundred souls with me... unless..." She met Haller's eyes firmly. "... unless that is what you will be able to supply. But even then it would take a massive effort which I have never tried before."
"That'll make two of us. It doesn't guarantee they'll be any more cooperative once they're out of her influence, but at least Radha won't be able to use them as hostages. Besides," Haller raised a hand and let streaks of flame dance in the air over his palm, "right now, power's not an issue. And I think there are some techniques we can use to make it easier on both of us."
~*~
Today…
"Get everyone out right fucking now," he telepathically urged Haller and Hope. "I'm ending this."
The older man's acknowledgement was a quick brush against Quentin's mind, the psionic equivalent of a hand on the shoulder. Sensation without words that nonetheless conveyed the sentiment:
Good luck.
With a nod, Haller stepped back.
"Hope, it's time."
Mental images of a sea shell opening up and a flower unfolding merged Hope's mind as she manifested next to Haller. The world almost seemed to glow around her, the colors of the auras of the people surrounding them and even the bonds connecting shining brightly... they'd never been as bright. Yet her face was calm and composed, an open alertness shining from her eyes as she took everything in. Let us get everyone out of here.
Haller closed his eyes.
Eighty-two minds here. Eighty-two minds he'd found, one by one, like candles burning faintly in the heart of Radha's star.
He'd never had such absolute access to his powers before, and so he'd never realized how artificial the barriers he'd erected between his abilities really were. Intellectually, he'd always known the ability to move large objects was not meaningfully different than the ability to move molecules -- it had simply made him feel safer to conceptualize it as such. What he hadn't appreciated until now was that there was also no meaningful difference between how he moved objects and how he moved the thoughts of others. At the core, it was all mind over matter.
Once upon a time there had been a girl who lost her body. As a being of pure psionic energy she had passed into the astral plane, and even lived there for a time. Her return had left her powers diminished, but she had survived. From girl, to energy, to girl again. Rachel Kinross.
And, just once, she had used that same power to save Haller.
He remembered.
Mind over matter, and matter into mind.
Eighty-two bodies dissolved into light. Haller spread his arms and gathered them to his chest like a swarm of fireflies. Between them shimmered threads of loves, of hates, of fears, of wants. A snarl of connections formed by the friction of one life against another.
As what remained of the cultists spun before him like captured stars, Haller brought his hands together and said:
"Show me."
Haller's presence flamed up in her mind, hovering before her. She looked down at the little lights that spun between his hands, multi-colored threads as thin as spider silk shimmering between them. Affection, disappointment, distaste and frustration were all easy to read, especially with the surge of power she could feel pulsing deep within her. Reaching out, she covered Haller's hands with her own, slender chains of gold and silver weaving their fingers together before flowing up to wrap around their hands and wrists.
Pulling their hands about a feet apart, she held them up in front of them. The little sparks of light were starting to spin and move between them. "Like this... are you ready?"
Haller nodded. "Ready."
Images flickered through her mind... the little sparks changing from sequins to miniature gems to beads and the threads between them gained structure, shifting from cloth to metal to something in between and back again. "Follow me." She ordered softly as she reached out and drew from the power pulsing in their minds. The sparks of light began to organize themselves, lining themselves up neatly, while the threads straightened as well, weaving neatly between the sparks.
Haller's hands moved beneath the fine metal chains that linked them movement to movement, intent to intent. An ache was building behind his eyes, pain from the part of him that was struggling to maintain the minds they held between them, but right now there was only the task at his fingertips. Matter into mind . . . and now the image in Hope's mind into reality.
"Anchor them," Haller said from someplace far away. One finger slid across a thread that had begun to twist to gold and settled on a point of light, taking Hope's with it. He held their hands there, attuning them to the spark, and through their link Hope could feel the warmth beneath their fingers.
Simple... just keep it simple.... Hope focused all her attention on the immaterial threads and suddenly they took form and substance. Shimmering yellow gold intertwined with bright platinum and slightly duller silver. Both were set off by the deep red glow of copper wire. Precious metals equaled precious gems and she shifted her attention to the sparks as she drew once more of the power. And again energy seemed to gain form and substance, making a medley of precious and semi-precious gems. Crystal clear diamonds, rubies, sapphires and emeralds glittered next to solid turquoise and lapis lazuli and dark smokey quartz easily supported the bright tones of amber and amethyst.
Now only one thing was left. She needed a way to wear them.
The chains connecting their hands ran off them like water. Haller took the necklace into his hands -- a construct of the lives he held, and the emotional threads that bound them -- and slipped it over the neck of Hope's astral form.
"After this, it's up to you," he said.
The weight of 82 lives settled on her neck and shoulders. Literally. Where the necklace touched her neck and shoulders, finely chased silver armor flowed down her shoulders, inlaid with thin gold wire telling the story of their struggle. Billowy cream silk sleeves covered her arms, silver gauntlets also inlaid with gold wire pulling them close on her underarms. The same cream silk floated around her legs, revealing glimpses of the silver armor covering her legs and knee high boots. The same energy flowed up her face, a delicate headpiece pulling her hair away from her face in a complicated arrangement of braids. Holding out her hand, Hope looked at Haller:
"Shall we go?"
Haller's lips twitched, just a little, in a smile. Hope had always loved fantasy novels, hadn't she?
Now it was his turn. Not just a change of state, but a change of form. Not just an ornament to carry, but a tool to use.
With a thought he let himself flow through the mold of Hope's thoughts like molten metal. Twisting like ropes of lightning, pulsing like a heartbeat, the light that had been Haller forged itself into a shape fitting for Hope's hand: a rapier, slender and bright.
As her fingers closed around the silver-chased hilt, one word brushed her thoughts:
~Go.~
And they were gone.
~*~
Two days ago…
Haller cut his eyes back to Quentin. "That leaves Radha up to you," he said. "Can you do that?" From the way he asked the question it was clear he was asking about more than just raw strength.
"Can I agitate someone into acting completely unhinged so they don't see me undermining them? David, who do you think you're talking to?"
"Good point." Haller glanced back at Hope, then at the others. "I can't imagine this isn't going to put stress on Hope's physical body. Is there anyone here with medical experience who can monitor her?"
A soft sigh slipped from Sue's lips as she raised a hand into the air, "I don't like this one bit, I just want to put that out there, but I can do that. I had to take a first aid course for work and I should be able to monitor Hope's vitals and say when we need to pull her out, or you know, scream for help from the mansion. But, I really don't like this."
"No." Hope shook her head firmly. "No pulling me out till the inhabitants of Haven are safe. Get whatever medical support from the mansion you need, but Mr. Haller and I have to complete this. I understand you do not like this..." Below the table she covered Sue's hands with hers and her eyes softened. "... It has to be done." Gazing around the table, her gaze became firm. "Are we doing this then?"
Quentin surveyed the room. X-Factor was not the X-Men, not X-Force, not even eXcalibur. Their unique calling was to directly aid mutants, improve their everyday lives, help them obtain the resources to survive and thrive in a hostile world. Warfare was not their job. The last time they were forced to fight, Quentin cowered in the corner while Sabretooth tore through Warren and Bobbi. So he was asking this team a lot to put themselves in a potential combat situation again. He had to prove they could put their trust in him.
"We're doing this."
~*~
Today…
Good luck. Still struggling to breathe after suffering death and rebirth second-hand, Quentin turned his full attention to Radha Dastoor. She could unmake him in a second, just like Josie, but without an audience to impress by putting him back together. He had to make this quick. He was already psychically reaching for the moorings as he began to speak.
"I wanted to believe you, Radha," he repeated with the same gentle, earnest tone he'd used when he'd first ingratiated himself to Haven. Then, it was an act to get on this good side. But there was no insincerity now. "And some part of me still does. I think you can help save the world. But not like this. Bringing about the Mahapralaya yourself and damning eight billion people to an ugly end is vulgar. This can't be how mutants win."
“It’s not how we win, you fool,” Radha hissed, all charm gone. “It’s how we survive. I thought you understood that. It’s why I need you, to make Haven strong. If Haven dies, if I don’t live, then no mutant does!”
"See, that kind of threat is why as hard as I tried, my own cynicism ultimately won out. I hope you didn't think I'd bolster your power without having a way to take it all back. So, Haven will survive, safely ensconced within the astral plane, but there's no road back.”
The telepath opened himself to the limitless power of the astral plane to become its living conduit. His eyes blazed with brilliant pink energy again as he directed that potential to shatter the scaffolding he had so carefully built over the last month. All that work so easily undone.
“The Mahapralaya will not come because you will not be there to bring it about. You wanted to rule what's left of a broken world? Well, here you go. What you ordered versus what you received. Bon appetit."
With a snap of his fingers, a tear in the lush scenery opened up behind Quentin, which instantly mended itself as he stepped back through it to take his own route home. The final scaffolding that bridged the real world to Radha's heart collapsed in his wake. The road back was gone by the time he passed the threshold to reality as if it had never been there, leaving Haven alone, lost forever in the sea of psychic aether that was the astral plane.
Today…
It was, as ever, a lovely day at the commune. Undeniably autumn, outdoors activity was minimal, but a few people were mingling about, preparing for winter. Exiting Abhay Dastoor's bungalow and gently shutting the door behind him, Quentin spotted a familiar purple face. The telepath frowned. What he was about to do risked harming Madin in a way he desperately wanted to avoid, but it was too late now. The best he could do was minimize the suffering.
"Hey. How's it going?" he asked while his mind reached out to contact the other two waiting a short ways away. "Almost ready, just . . . give me a minute to lay some damage control."
Madin was once again on hamper duty, packing them at one of the larger tables and chatting with a few of the others. It was almost fun and seeing the bracelets tied around the hamper strings was nice. It was the first time they'd ever seen something they'd made be put to use like this. They stiffened when they heard Quentin's voice, turning to face him, holding a bunch of bok choy in each hand. "Hi."
There was something so quaint and idyllic about the scene before him that he felt his guts twist at the thought of what he was about to do. What was this sensation? Guilt? He hated it and made a note to excise it from his brain so he would never experience it again.
"Have you seen Radha around? She and I need to have a . . ." Reckoning. "Chat."
There was something off about him. Madin put the vegetables down and moved around the table, shrugging. "Why are you asking?"
He desperately wanted to tell them to leave, to escape before this confrontation. But he needed witnesses, people to learn the truth behind the lies that had built this place. He needed Madin here.
The woman appeared as if out of thin air just a few yards away. "Never mind, get here NOW." Quentin infused the message with profound urgency as he stepped past Madin to approach Radha. "Just . . . I'm sorry I put you through this," he said to Madin, not facing them, "I didn't know."
Haller appeared from around the corner of another bungalow, followed by curious looks from some of the other residents. The psi nodded politely but otherwise didn't engage. When he saw the younger mutant, however, he hesitated.
"Hey, Madin." More was on the tip of his tongue, but stopped himself. Now wasn't the time. Instead Haller took a breath and turned his attention back to Quentin.
~Ready?~ he asked.
~*~
Two days ago…
Recaffeinated, re-intoxicated, and rehydrated, the X-Factor investigators once more gathered in the conference room. Quentin offered their special guest the seat across from him so they would never leave each other's scrutiny.
"Radha wants to build a Noah's Ark for mutants to survive the inevitable catastrophe she calls the Mahapralaya, the Great Dissolution," Quentin began. "Most human and mutant life on Earth will die, but her little pocket dimension would survive. Problem is that she can't maintain it for long or keep it large enough to hold all of Haven.
"So the truth of my work with Radha Dastoor this past month is this: I used my telepathy to anchor her dimension in the astral plane. It allows her to draw on its infinite psychic energies to stabilize herself so it can grow and sustain itself indefinitely. Earth could literally be annihilated and no one in her pocket dimension would be harmed."
The only non-member of X-Factor Investigations stared at Quentin in disbelief. After being in the younger man's head Haller thought he had a better understanding of him than most, but the sheer recklessness of what he'd just confessed was staggering. Quentin knew how dangerous interference with the astral plane could be. Astral debris from fractured realities had metastasized into a thing that had nearly swallowed them both. And now Quentin sat here dispassionately explaining how he'd cultivated a nearly identical phenomenon for a woman he barely knew.
The intentionality of it somehow made it worse. Quentin could be brash, but he wasn't stupid; he had to have been aware of the risks. He'd simply decided they were worth taking. He hadn't asked for the mansion's advice, nor its permission. He'd simply acted. Looking at Quentin's face, Haller couldn't help but wonder: Were you really so angry with us?
But Quentin hadn't asked him here for recriminations. That was a conversation for another time.
"So she wants to bring about global cataclysm," Haller said aloud, "and you built her a fortress she could watch from."
Hope simply stared only blinking once or twice. "You did what with the astral plane? How does that work exactly?" She asked as she tried to picture it. She related with the plane in a very different way then QQ did, but this was almost outside her imagination. She had no trouble picturing the risks though.
Arthur, however, was happier to take the high road here. "Or... were you trying to give her options? Not just picturing a world without prejudice and greed, but creating one. Truly the safe haven she preaches about."
"The specifics aren't important for now," Quentin calmly answered Hope, not offering Haller the satisfaction of rising to his censure. "But yes, I wanted to help her, or at least keep an eye on her. She's the first person who has offered an alternative to the binary mutants have been stuck with for the past three decades, and she's done more than most to unite mutants under one cause. It would be foolish to let her continue alone and unmonitored. Even if the Mahapralaya is garbage, there are people who believe her actual tangible work can lead to a better world. And I think . . ." He sighed and looked down at his hands folded on the table. "Before we do anything drastic, we need to give her a chance to tell the truth. But that means we need to come armed with the truth ourselves. We can't give her quarter to continue to deceive anyone."
~*~
Today…
Madin blinked. "Hi. I didn't know any of you were coming here. Um."
"No," was Quentin's response to Haller. "But when have I ever let that stop me?" He should have just pulled a psychic shotgun and taken her out right there, be done with it. But even if he could blast through her blackbox brain, it would just cause the rest of Haven to turn on them. No, they needed to tear her down piece by piece, reveal the truth of Radha Dastoor to her adherents, and hope they had enough sense left to understand the truth and leave.
"So, were you ever going to tell me the truth about how you're bringing about your Mahapralaya yourself with Josie and Abhay or were you planning to make me another victim once I'd given you what you wanted?" Quentin's challenge called the attention of all the mutants outside, who stopped dead in their tracks, because who in their right mind would speak to her with such disrespect and contempt?
Radha tilted her head, curious. “A victim?” she asked. “We will all be victims of the Mahapralaya, Quentin. Even those who choose to be saved will know suffering. I cannot prevent that.”
"There were a couple hundred cases of misery you could have prevented if you hadn't sent Josie to infect them with her own home-grown mutant plague," the telepath countered. "On your orders, your brother's tornadoes and typhoons took away people's homes and livelihoods in Washington, Oklahoma, New York. Great suffering is coming? It's at your hands."
Josie had come scurrying out of one of the bungalows as soon as the crowd had begun to gather. Now the mousey woman bristled like an angry cat. "What are you talking about?" she demanded, red blotches rising in her cheeks. "Just because I'm the one who told you people were getting sick I have to be the one who caused it? I just wanted you to be safe!"
The small woman made as if she was about to storm towards them, but lurched as she found her feet telekinetically fixed to the ground.
"Don't come any closer, please," Haller said. He hadn't even turned his head.
~*~
Two days ago…
"I already mentioned I have been doing a deep dive in the background of Radha Dastoor. I also did some basic research on her brother and one or two other close associates." Hope rose, moving over to the whiteboard that stood nearby. "The bare facts you already know. Born in Mumbai, scion of a wealthy family, one brother and well-known humanitarian until she decided to mostly disappear and found Haven. She re-emerged speaking of the Mahapralaya, specifically recruiting mutants." Hope picked up a black marker, quickly noting down the most important points. "When I went deeper I focused on three important elements, namely her financials, her associates and her psychology. The investigation of her associates is still ongoing and I already mentioned that in her texts and seminars she matches a lot of the characteristics of fanaticism and a cult leader... she is a very charismatic figure for one, has quite a few touches of arrogance and she believes she can save the world." She added a few notes to the board.
"Her finances provide an interesting insight. At first sight they are squeaky clean, but once you start digging deeper, certain things become clear. For one, she purchased materials to produce tear gas and the protective equipment to do so. Funding to get certain of her associates to locations matching the strange incidents of mutant illness. And even more." Grabbing her tablet, she quickly hit a few buttons. "I just forwarded a summary to your emails."
For a moment all was silent as eyes went towards their screens before Sue dropped her tablet onto the table and sighed, "I can't believe I didn't think about checking that before, good call. It looks exactly like she's playing a shell game with her finances, I'd do the same if I wanted to buy something without it being traced back to me, at least not easily. Takes time, effort and a lot of planning, not something you'd do if you were on the up and up." Blue eyes examined Quentin for a moment for a moment as she sat back in her chair, she really didn't understand much about the Astral plane, just thinking about it made her head hurt but it didn't sound good. "With all the evidence, with everything we've seen, is she worth it? Is she really worth risking yourself to give her a chance to explain herself?"
Quentin's brown eyes met her blues and held her gaze. "Yes." There was no doubt in his voice. "We have to keep the path open for restoration. At least to show her own people we're not there to martyr their savior. She won't accept it, of course. She's convinced of her own righteousness and won't budge. And yes, I'm aware of the irony of me saying that. But it should go without saying that this trait I admire so much makes her extra dangerous, and she'll undoubtedly want to show that off."
~*~
Today…
"Josephine Sarcina, RN." Quentin did turn his attention to the young woman and did not bother to hide his disdain for her, either. "Could you kindly tell us about Tom Molloy? Antonio Cortes? Samantha Lin? I could go on with the list of patients who, under your tender care, suffered various medical crises more extreme than what brought them to you in the first place, and who, if they even survived, miraculously recovered only because of your timely intervention. We spoke with your former colleagues at Cranston Memorial Institute. Well, 'spoke' is inaccurate, because no one wanted to discuss 'Nurse Infectia.' But we looked at the data. Did you know that once you left, there weren't any more instances of sudden-onset neurologic illness? Admission, discharge, and death rates suddenly matched those of other nearby hospitals. You weren't unfairly terminated because of anti-mutant prejudice. Your power is literally to spread disease, and you used that to satisfy your Munchausen by proxy syndrome."
He paused before continuing, forcing himself to remain calm and collected. "Two hundred cases of mutant plague, and that's just what the CDC has deigned to recognize. Communities have fallen apart. Does that make you happy? Does that benefit mutantkind? Or does it just call the flocks to Haven?"
Josie's face was almost purple. She glanced around for support, but found more than a few expressions were transforming from confusion to anger and disbelief.
"Is that true?" asked a green-skinned woman. There was only the slightest quaver in her voice, but the viney growths in her hair stirred like Medusa's serpents. "Can you make people sick?"
"Did you make us sick?" asked another man. There was an edge of pleading to it, as if he'd been compelled to ask the question against his will.
More murmurs were starting around them. At a loss, Josie turned to Radha in mute appeal.
“The world makes you sick,” said Radha, her tone more impatient than soothing. “You all know this. You know the Great Dissolution comes. That the only safe place there will be is in the Haven that we make.” Radha’s glance at Quentin was full of sudden fire. “The world provides me what I need to bring you here, make you safe. Whatever I need.”
Quentin had expected some spark of rebellion to ignite among the commune, but while a few spoke up, he sensed several more resisting him. Some simply in denial, unable to accept their beatific saint wasn't all she seemed, but others were so firmly enchanted by Radha that her lies were their truth.
"No, you engineered the circumstances that brought desperate people to you so you could exploit their vulnerabilities and craft an illusion of safety. When the humans come for us—and they will, because you're goading them to, just look at the riot in New York after the hurricane that your brother conjured—you'll bring us inside you and you'll rule us all. Because everything is under your command in Haven, is it not? This golden age you preach, it's just your heart, isn't it? Your twisted, wicked, black heart."
He sighed, and for the first time expressed weariness and regret in his face and posture. "I wanted to believe in you. I did. But I can't suffer your lies and exploitation. You have to end this before you take it too far and damn us all."
Radha laughed, a rich chuckle. “Of course I control Haven,” she said. “I am Haven and it is me. But I offer it freely to those who wish to survive to the new age. I offer myself to them. What did your last messiah offer you? Protection from a world that hates and fears you? How many child soldiers has he churned out to protect his dream? How many mutants have died to keep Xavier safe, cowering inside his Mansion, leading from the rear?”
Very briefly, the older psi's mouth tightened in concession. "Too many," he said. "But at least the choice he offers us is honest." Haller touched two fingers to his own temple. "Healing a disease you spread, sheltering against violence you incited. You're not offering anything. Just driving people to your new world like cattle into a chute."
“This?” Radha spread her hands wide, a dramatic gesture as the commune’s natural beauty intensified, blossomed with flowers and the babble of stream and whisper of music intertwined. “I give you this,” she pitched her voice louder then, aimed at the commune’s citizens, who looked around them, “and he accuses me of treating you like cattle. I bring you into my heart,” Radha’s eyes flashed as she drew her hand to her chest again, a beckoning, comforting gesture, “and he accuses me… us,” she gestured more widely, at Josie and the others who helped her run the commune, “of drawing you into a trap.” She flung her hand wide, a gesture that encompassed the commune around them. “Does my heart look black and wicked to you?”
Murmurs ran through Radha's followers. Haller noted many of them seemed to be gravitating into their own small pockets, some of them defiant, but others increasingly uncomfortable. There wasn't consensus here, but where there was faith it blazed like an inferno. One man fell rapturously to his knees, wailing "Radha!"
Madin had been here before. The sheer wonder of the paradise, the perfection and the beauty hadn't faded. They were- they all were- so fucked in comparison to this place. Of course it was Haller here. The mansion could never leave anything alone. They had to fuck everything good in the world up. "Jesus fucking Christ, Haller. Leave them fuck alone. You're fucking full of shit and they're not fucking killing people. They're just trying to make it a better place." Energy flickered around their hands. "Seriously, leave Radha the fuck alone. We don't want you fucking this place up." They called out to the others, rallying support. "He's gonna fucking telepath her and take this away from us."
"Everyone stay where you are, please." Madin's arms immediately locked at their sides, as if they'd been swaddled by an invisible blanket, and noises from those others present indicated something similar had happened to them. Haller turned his attention away from Radha and shook his head.
"Madin, three days ago Radha sent people into District X during a counter-protest with the FOH. They passed out care packages that had been dosed with the virus Radha's been warning people about. Some food, some water. Some jewelry as a little calling card. Things people would take. Then they set off a bomb in the middle of the rally. Dozens of mutants triggered, including two X-Men. We think her brother was behind flooding it last week, and then they turned into a riot. Now the news is full of people talking about banning large gatherings of mutants in public, or doubling up police presence. Sending people into the community to make mutants register their powers because all the destruction just proves the bigots are right. That's how Radha is building her paradise. She's making the rest of the world hell." He looked at the young mutant's expression, and softened. "I'm sorry, but there's proof."
Madin shook their head. "That's not true. She'd never do anything like that. Radha wants to help people."
The psi turned his blue eyes to the woman who stood just a few meters away. She regarded him with the same look of star-field coldness she had the day she'd dismissed him from her presence. She stood in the faintest nimbus of light -- untouchable, supremely confident. A goddess come to walk among her followers. His power couldn't touch her in this place. She was this place.
"I think she truly believes that," Haller said. "It's her version of 'help' that I doubt. We'll talk about it later, okay?"
“Mine is the only version of help that will matter when the Mahapralaya comes,” said Radha. “There will be no safe place, no hiding place, no end to horror. Your Mansion will crumble and your X-Men will be ended. You have not seen what is coming but I have and in the end there will be no safe place to stand, no place to hide, no place to retreat to or return from, except for those I shelter.” She held her arms wide, encompassing all that surrounded them. “In the end, there will be only me.”
Everything she said sounded so good, so righteous. Of course the humans would come for mutants, and what chance at survival did they have without Haven? Quentin surveyed the bubble of paradise, the almost one hundred mutants who had united to mutually assure their safety and prosperity. But.
~*~
Two days ago…
"So you're going to provoke her." Haller leaned forward, fingers laced. "I agree that her people need to know what's going on. She's specifically targeting the sick and the persecuted -- saving a life gets you the kind of loyalty you can't buy. If she's not exposed for what she is things are going to go very, very badly. But in her world her power is absolute. I saw her reaction when I wasn't appropriately grateful to her. If you defy her in front of everyone . . ." Haller's eyes flicked up to Quentin's. "I know you've already beaten death once, but in that place? I don't know if there'd be enough left of you for a second time."
"I don't need to overpower her," Quentin chided Haller, "Just outmaneuver her. She thinks she's three steps ahead of everyone, but if she were, then she would have vetted me before she came crawling for help. She thought she had me hook, line, and sinker, and she only bought that because I led everyone else to believe the same thing. And yeah, part of me wanted to devote myself to her, but come on. You should also know I'm too fucking cynical for that. So, I built a failsafe into the astral scaffolding. The stability of Haven in the astral plane is entirely up to me. I yank the right thread and Haven is marooned in psychic space with no way back to the material world. The SAG-AFTRA strike is over, so you can give me my Oscar for best leading man."
An eyebrow raised. For just a moment, Haller was able to look past the situation and allow himself to be impressed. He knew Quentin's reaction to perceived injustice could sometimes push him into reckless behavior, but Haller had never taken him for a fool. It was a relief to know he'd been right.
"I see." The older psi nodded slowly, reworking his mental calculus. "Okay. That's something we can work with."
~*~
Today…
"It's all down to you. You get to decide who is worthy of you and who isn't. What happens when you decide someone is no longer valuable to you? How are we supposed to trust each other, rely on each other, build a world that can survive the end, if the wrong step means being expelled from paradise? Or worse. You're right, you have the power here. Pure, uncontested, tyrannical power."
His eyes flashed pink as a hundred minds were opened to his. The cacophony would have overwhelmed a lesser psi, but Quentin Quire was the self-crowned Kid Omega. He pushed back against everyone's fear and anger and showed them something worse.
The truth.
The woman's mind was a void.
Some might think a lack of emotion would leave no trace, but the hollowness that resonated throughout Josie was so profound that it created a mirror that was unavoidable and unfillable. Any bouts of emotion pinged this chasm with a ring louder than some might feel loss, love, or anger.
"Loop the cord at least three times. Keep it loose so you can pass the end through." It was a chorus of memory, a well practiced facade of cheer that became an ingrained habit as Josie taught each and every member of their commune the same pattern.
Once. Again, again, again. Thousands of hands, all overlaid in the same pattern so that they only formed a single memory. The same smile, and the same sense of self-disgust at the act. Loops of a performance braided into a pattern with eight beads.
Except for the first.
"And we don't want to be appropriative, of course," Josie joked. "Make it a symbol. A little bit of the past, a little bit of now." She was practically vibrating with triumph as she closed the final knot.
Radha sat across from her, hands folded.
"But then, we create a need for a savior," the once nurse delivered with a flourish.
In demonstration, the woman took the bracelet and turned it over in her hands. There was no visual queue, but the focus in Josie's mind shifted with each rotation. She pictured every patient she'd ever helped. Every smile she was forced to give, even to her mother. Everyone in need of her care. Helpless. Under her power. It was her only true thrill: compounding the wonders of chemistry into a power that brought everyone under her control.
"I've found I can use my power to deliver the infection over time, or key it to a chemical spike. Dopamine, adrenaline, oxytocin. Either way, they'll come crawling back."
Radha smiled without the gesture reaching her eyes. "For a healing only my heart can provide."
The color drained from Josie's face as if someone had opened her carotid artery.
“It's a lie!” All pretense of bubbly helpfulness was gone. The woman spun to the other followers, her shrill screech hitting the ears at the same decibel as a cornered animal. Josie flung a shaking hand at Quentin, eyes bulging. "He's a telepath, he's lying to you! I would nuh . . . you know me!"
Madin scrabbled at their wrist, tearing off the bracelet and looked accusingly at Josie. "I can't believe you fucking poisoned the bracelets. What the fuck is fucking wrong with you? They killed people. They killed mutants. Like Jesus fucking Christ, anyone could be wearing them." There was a pause. "I'm wearing one! You fucking gave me one when I got here, you fucking psycho bitch." There was a whole basket of bracelets on the table where they'd been working on them earlier. Madin's shoulders stooped as they looked away from Josie and back to the bracelets. "You were nice," they whispered
Josie turned on them, and for the first time Madin could see in the woman's eyes -- nothing. Not shame, not regret, not even anger. The illusion of humanity was gone. Now all that looked back was the dead emptiness that was the center of her.
The murmurs started again. For the first time, the atmosphere among Radha's followers began to curdle.
“Nice,” Radha’s voice cut through the air like a whip. “Safe. Docile. Cowardly.” Scorn dripped from Radha’s words. “The world does not change because you are nice. Here, here in my haven, I can do anything,” she said, and she raised her hand, fingers splayed. For a moment Josie looked startled and then she exploded, became a shower of blood, that stopped in mid-air, became red crystals shimmering across the sky, contracted again into Josie, gasping, falling to her knees. “But what I cannot do, in the world you want so desperately to keep the same, is make them listen to me. We burn the world. The leader of the United Nations tells us that we are past the age of global warming, that we are in the age of global boiling. And what does the human world do, as it burns and floods and dies? It laughs and forgets and pretends nothing is happening. Words are not enough. Nice is not enough. And so we show people what is coming. What will be.” And Radha chuckled suddenly, warm, forgiving, unexpected. “And it is not nice.”
Still bound to every mind in Haven, Josie's violent death and instant resurrection was like Radha had set off a pressure cooker full of shrapnel in Quentin's brain. He physically recoiled as if Radha had directly struck him. "WE ARE MUTANTS!" His voice boomed through Haven as he steadied himself. "We are the next step in human evolution. We are supposed to be better than them! Humans destroy. Humans scorch the earth because if they can't have something, then no one can. This new mutant age you want to build? That you get to rule alone and command others to submit to you? It's just the same old flatscan bullshit. You're not a revolutionary, you're just a run-of-the-mill snake oil merchant."
~*~
Two days ago…
"Speakin' of workin' with things," Inez pointed out, "we could potentially use any of her followers that get spit right back out as hostages too, if we need 'em for that," she reckoned. "Though I imagine some of 'em won't be too pleased to be yanked outta there... we'll have to keep them in line too, yeah?"
Quentin nodded. "She has more than a few diehards who won't see reason. Leave Abhay to me. His psychic shields are strong for a non-psi, but I've been around him enough that I can figure out how to break them without breaking him. He's no threat. And neither is Josie if she doesn't touch anyone. But that still leaves the problem of keeping everyone else safe when we're stuck in her heart."
"Until you pull the plug, her world is connected to the astral plane." Haller looked down at his clasped hands, brow knitting. An idea was starting to form. "If that's the case . . . I think I can help with that."
"Do you want to share with the class?"
"How many people are there, about a hundred? Yeah. I think I can handle that." The older psi sat back in his chair, the fingers of one hand moving aimlessly against the tabletop. He could feel Arthur's eyes on him. Haller avoided his gaze and met Quentin's instead.
"A side-effect or Radha's 'fix,'" the X-Man said, gesturing towards his head. "It turns out that when you fuse telepathy and telekinesis -- or remove an imposed division between them, I guess -- the barrier between material and immaterial gets a little arbitrary. As long as I have access to the astral plane I think I can arrange things in a way that will allow for an evacuation. The problem is I don't think I'll be able to do the actual moving myself. Hope?"
Hope narrowed her eyes, looking thoughtful. "You wish for me to carry the people through the astral plane, so to speak?" She paused, considering: "While I can move freely around the astral plane and shift back and forth almost as freely, I do not have the ability nor the power to carry one hundred souls with me... unless..." She met Haller's eyes firmly. "... unless that is what you will be able to supply. But even then it would take a massive effort which I have never tried before."
"That'll make two of us. It doesn't guarantee they'll be any more cooperative once they're out of her influence, but at least Radha won't be able to use them as hostages. Besides," Haller raised a hand and let streaks of flame dance in the air over his palm, "right now, power's not an issue. And I think there are some techniques we can use to make it easier on both of us."
~*~
Today…
"Get everyone out right fucking now," he telepathically urged Haller and Hope. "I'm ending this."
The older man's acknowledgement was a quick brush against Quentin's mind, the psionic equivalent of a hand on the shoulder. Sensation without words that nonetheless conveyed the sentiment:
Good luck.
With a nod, Haller stepped back.
"Hope, it's time."
Mental images of a sea shell opening up and a flower unfolding merged Hope's mind as she manifested next to Haller. The world almost seemed to glow around her, the colors of the auras of the people surrounding them and even the bonds connecting shining brightly... they'd never been as bright. Yet her face was calm and composed, an open alertness shining from her eyes as she took everything in. Let us get everyone out of here.
Haller closed his eyes.
Eighty-two minds here. Eighty-two minds he'd found, one by one, like candles burning faintly in the heart of Radha's star.
He'd never had such absolute access to his powers before, and so he'd never realized how artificial the barriers he'd erected between his abilities really were. Intellectually, he'd always known the ability to move large objects was not meaningfully different than the ability to move molecules -- it had simply made him feel safer to conceptualize it as such. What he hadn't appreciated until now was that there was also no meaningful difference between how he moved objects and how he moved the thoughts of others. At the core, it was all mind over matter.
Once upon a time there had been a girl who lost her body. As a being of pure psionic energy she had passed into the astral plane, and even lived there for a time. Her return had left her powers diminished, but she had survived. From girl, to energy, to girl again. Rachel Kinross.
And, just once, she had used that same power to save Haller.
He remembered.
Mind over matter, and matter into mind.
Eighty-two bodies dissolved into light. Haller spread his arms and gathered them to his chest like a swarm of fireflies. Between them shimmered threads of loves, of hates, of fears, of wants. A snarl of connections formed by the friction of one life against another.
As what remained of the cultists spun before him like captured stars, Haller brought his hands together and said:
"Show me."
Haller's presence flamed up in her mind, hovering before her. She looked down at the little lights that spun between his hands, multi-colored threads as thin as spider silk shimmering between them. Affection, disappointment, distaste and frustration were all easy to read, especially with the surge of power she could feel pulsing deep within her. Reaching out, she covered Haller's hands with her own, slender chains of gold and silver weaving their fingers together before flowing up to wrap around their hands and wrists.
Pulling their hands about a feet apart, she held them up in front of them. The little sparks of light were starting to spin and move between them. "Like this... are you ready?"
Haller nodded. "Ready."
Images flickered through her mind... the little sparks changing from sequins to miniature gems to beads and the threads between them gained structure, shifting from cloth to metal to something in between and back again. "Follow me." She ordered softly as she reached out and drew from the power pulsing in their minds. The sparks of light began to organize themselves, lining themselves up neatly, while the threads straightened as well, weaving neatly between the sparks.
Haller's hands moved beneath the fine metal chains that linked them movement to movement, intent to intent. An ache was building behind his eyes, pain from the part of him that was struggling to maintain the minds they held between them, but right now there was only the task at his fingertips. Matter into mind . . . and now the image in Hope's mind into reality.
"Anchor them," Haller said from someplace far away. One finger slid across a thread that had begun to twist to gold and settled on a point of light, taking Hope's with it. He held their hands there, attuning them to the spark, and through their link Hope could feel the warmth beneath their fingers.
Simple... just keep it simple.... Hope focused all her attention on the immaterial threads and suddenly they took form and substance. Shimmering yellow gold intertwined with bright platinum and slightly duller silver. Both were set off by the deep red glow of copper wire. Precious metals equaled precious gems and she shifted her attention to the sparks as she drew once more of the power. And again energy seemed to gain form and substance, making a medley of precious and semi-precious gems. Crystal clear diamonds, rubies, sapphires and emeralds glittered next to solid turquoise and lapis lazuli and dark smokey quartz easily supported the bright tones of amber and amethyst.
Now only one thing was left. She needed a way to wear them.
The chains connecting their hands ran off them like water. Haller took the necklace into his hands -- a construct of the lives he held, and the emotional threads that bound them -- and slipped it over the neck of Hope's astral form.
"After this, it's up to you," he said.
The weight of 82 lives settled on her neck and shoulders. Literally. Where the necklace touched her neck and shoulders, finely chased silver armor flowed down her shoulders, inlaid with thin gold wire telling the story of their struggle. Billowy cream silk sleeves covered her arms, silver gauntlets also inlaid with gold wire pulling them close on her underarms. The same cream silk floated around her legs, revealing glimpses of the silver armor covering her legs and knee high boots. The same energy flowed up her face, a delicate headpiece pulling her hair away from her face in a complicated arrangement of braids. Holding out her hand, Hope looked at Haller:
"Shall we go?"
Haller's lips twitched, just a little, in a smile. Hope had always loved fantasy novels, hadn't she?
Now it was his turn. Not just a change of state, but a change of form. Not just an ornament to carry, but a tool to use.
With a thought he let himself flow through the mold of Hope's thoughts like molten metal. Twisting like ropes of lightning, pulsing like a heartbeat, the light that had been Haller forged itself into a shape fitting for Hope's hand: a rapier, slender and bright.
As her fingers closed around the silver-chased hilt, one word brushed her thoughts:
~Go.~
And they were gone.
~*~
Two days ago…
Haller cut his eyes back to Quentin. "That leaves Radha up to you," he said. "Can you do that?" From the way he asked the question it was clear he was asking about more than just raw strength.
"Can I agitate someone into acting completely unhinged so they don't see me undermining them? David, who do you think you're talking to?"
"Good point." Haller glanced back at Hope, then at the others. "I can't imagine this isn't going to put stress on Hope's physical body. Is there anyone here with medical experience who can monitor her?"
A soft sigh slipped from Sue's lips as she raised a hand into the air, "I don't like this one bit, I just want to put that out there, but I can do that. I had to take a first aid course for work and I should be able to monitor Hope's vitals and say when we need to pull her out, or you know, scream for help from the mansion. But, I really don't like this."
"No." Hope shook her head firmly. "No pulling me out till the inhabitants of Haven are safe. Get whatever medical support from the mansion you need, but Mr. Haller and I have to complete this. I understand you do not like this..." Below the table she covered Sue's hands with hers and her eyes softened. "... It has to be done." Gazing around the table, her gaze became firm. "Are we doing this then?"
Quentin surveyed the room. X-Factor was not the X-Men, not X-Force, not even eXcalibur. Their unique calling was to directly aid mutants, improve their everyday lives, help them obtain the resources to survive and thrive in a hostile world. Warfare was not their job. The last time they were forced to fight, Quentin cowered in the corner while Sabretooth tore through Warren and Bobbi. So he was asking this team a lot to put themselves in a potential combat situation again. He had to prove they could put their trust in him.
"We're doing this."
~*~
Today…
Good luck. Still struggling to breathe after suffering death and rebirth second-hand, Quentin turned his full attention to Radha Dastoor. She could unmake him in a second, just like Josie, but without an audience to impress by putting him back together. He had to make this quick. He was already psychically reaching for the moorings as he began to speak.
"I wanted to believe you, Radha," he repeated with the same gentle, earnest tone he'd used when he'd first ingratiated himself to Haven. Then, it was an act to get on this good side. But there was no insincerity now. "And some part of me still does. I think you can help save the world. But not like this. Bringing about the Mahapralaya yourself and damning eight billion people to an ugly end is vulgar. This can't be how mutants win."
“It’s not how we win, you fool,” Radha hissed, all charm gone. “It’s how we survive. I thought you understood that. It’s why I need you, to make Haven strong. If Haven dies, if I don’t live, then no mutant does!”
"See, that kind of threat is why as hard as I tried, my own cynicism ultimately won out. I hope you didn't think I'd bolster your power without having a way to take it all back. So, Haven will survive, safely ensconced within the astral plane, but there's no road back.”
The telepath opened himself to the limitless power of the astral plane to become its living conduit. His eyes blazed with brilliant pink energy again as he directed that potential to shatter the scaffolding he had so carefully built over the last month. All that work so easily undone.
“The Mahapralaya will not come because you will not be there to bring it about. You wanted to rule what's left of a broken world? Well, here you go. What you ordered versus what you received. Bon appetit."
With a snap of his fingers, a tear in the lush scenery opened up behind Quentin, which instantly mended itself as he stepped back through it to take his own route home. The final scaffolding that bridged the real world to Radha's heart collapsed in his wake. The road back was gone by the time he passed the threshold to reality as if it had never been there, leaving Haven alone, lost forever in the sea of psychic aether that was the astral plane.
