xp_logs | Trojan Horse, part nine - The Good Guys?

After their arrival at the mansion, MacInnis and his colleague Kritzer are left cooling their heels briefly while Charles continues to scan Nathan. MacInnis uses the time to seek out Pete and explain what's going on.

"So I think I probably owe you some pretty detailed explanations," MacInnis said, standing at the doorway of the office and giving Wisdom an assessing look. One of the others had directed him down here - escorted him, as a matter of fact. He supposed that Xavier's people were a little uncertain about him and his. Fair enough, really. "You ready to hear them?" he asked the younger man, who looked definitely the worse for wear. "Or should we get the unpleasant small talk out of
the way first?"

Pete looked up from the screen, blankly, as if he hadn't heard a word the other man had said. Then he shook his head, as if coming to. "Fuck the small talk. We can lie about what stimulating company we were later." He reached for his packet of fags. "Come in, close the door, and start explaining. It can't make my mood any worse."

"Back in May," MacInnis said calmly, closing the door behind him. Part of him felt bad, sandbagging the other man like this when he was fresh out of a fight as bad as the one in New York had apparently been, but
they needed his support on this before they went to Xavier. "The weekend we took him, our telepaths and empaths added something to his conditioning." He sat down in the chair opposite the desk. "It's a
booby-trap, basically," he said quietly. "Trigger it and it'll destroy Nathan's conditioning. Then it'll boost itself, using his telepathy, to every other operative within his telepathic range." He paused,
shook his head. "He was never supposed to be reconditioned," he said heavily. "The telepath on the team in the warehouse was one of ours. He was supposed to trigger this as soon as they landed back at Mistra.
But Simon died when the warehouse collapsed, and we couldn't get any of our other inside people back to the home facility in time."

Pete set the lighter down, and blew smoke down his nose, thinking. "Why Nate? You just admitted you had other telepaths with you, ones that you could get in there a hell of a lot easier and safer. Why fuck with Nate even more?"

"It's a domino effect," MacInnis said with a sigh. "Needs the initial... psychic explosion to get going." He eyed Pete a bit wearily. "If there was any way to get one of our telepaths to do it, don't you think we would have done it? I've been trying to free men and women from Mistra for almost twenty years, Wisdom. Took me almost five years to accept that it might be necessary to send one back in."

Pete looked thoughtful. "So, what, you're looking for a way to get him back there anyway, after we went to all the trouble of catching him? Got any clever plans?"

"They'll know he went down going after Xavier today," MacInnis said. "I've got no idea what the hell they were thinking, sending him back out that soon after he'd been reconditioned." He shook his head. "I'm
not sure they'd buy him getting away from here, but if he tried to report in, they'd let him. They went through too much to get him back in the first place, and if there's one thing you can count on, it's
their arrogance. They might figure Xavier had left a surprise or two in his mind, but they'd go looking, they wouldn't just write him off."

"OK, so your plan's still workable." Pete gave him a flat look. "Now tell me what you're not telling me."

MacInnis took a deep breath. "It's going to fuck him up but good," he said heavily. "Wouldn't have been nearly so bad if we'd triggered it before he was reconditioned, but he and any of the other first-gen
operatives that get caught up in it - I'm guessing he explained to you the difference between the conditioning types? - could potentially
wind up with a lot of psychic damage as a result."

"Yeah, I got that much. This damage - it'd be fixable? The odds are good he'd recover, given time?"

"What's not fixable can be managed," MacInnis said. "That's Kritzer's opinion, in any case, and given that she came up with this Trojan horse idea in the first place, she'd know." He paused for a moment,
then decided he had to make the admission. "It's been tested, but never on first-gen conditioning. We don't precisely have lots of test subjects of that variety wandering around free."

"Mmm." Pete took a drag on his cigarette, thinking. "And what's your best guess of the likely damage to Mistra? Would this take them out in one go, cripple them for a while, or just piss them off?"

"One go. That's the only reason I'm willing to do it. We take out their field operatives, the kids they have in training, and they're done." MacInnis smiled tightly. "I've got teams of my own I'll have
ready to send in as soon as the field operatives go down. Enough to handle their own security people and grab the directors."

Pete leant back in his chair, and stared at the ceiling for a few seconds, before looking back at MacInnis. "Yeah. Yeah, OK, I'll got along with
it. Just have to hope Nate and everyone else'll still talk to me when it's all over. What d'you need me to do?"

"Give Xavier your opinion, when he asks for it," MacInnis said immediately. "Obviously, we aren't doing this unless he agrees to it." He took a deep breath, trying to relax a little. The situation was still salvageable. They could make this work. "I should fill you in on some more of the specifics of our assault plan, then, while I've got you..."

Meanwhile, Kritzer tackles Moira, who does not take the news very well at all. Her attitude towards Kritzer's proposal goes considerably beyond 'not well'. And let's all be glad that Askani doesn't have a corporeal body at the moment.

Moira leaned against the railing on the porch and took a deep breath. Seeing Nathan had drained her pretty well and she needed the fresh air to clear her head. Which was _still_ pounding from everything. Concussion, link break, Askani in her head--none of it added up for a peaceful frame of mind. She kept reminding herself that he'd be better soon, Charles would help him and she'd have him back.

Kritzer lingered at the doorway for a moment, all too aware of the unsettled mental state of the woman on the porch. The man standing in the hallway behind her, keeping a very watchful eye on her, wasn't all that settled in mind either. "Doctor MacTaggart?" she asked finally, stepping out and completely prepared to calm the other woman empathically if need be.

She glanced over her shoulder and raised an eyebrow. Charles had warned her that the people responsible for Nathan's disappearance back in May had shown up at the Mansion, offering to help. She didn't know what kind of help but she didn't trust any of them. "Aye."

"I'm Sharon Kritzer." Kritzer came out, sitting down in the chair next to Moira's. The grounds, laid out in front of them, were deceptively quiet and peaceful in comparison to the psychic atmosphere. "I worked at Mistra years ago. Shortly after Nathan entered the program."

"'e mentioned tha' there was a woman back in May," Moira said, eyeing her warily. "I'm assumin' tha' was ye."

Kritzer frowned a little. "He shouldn't have remembered me."

"Verra vaguely, I'm th' one who put two an' two together." Telepath, Moira figured.

Kritzer was silent for a long moment. "This was never meant to happen like this," she said. "We never intended him to be reconditioned."

"Wha' _were_ yer intentions?" she asked, calmly. "God knows we couldnae figured them out after 'e'd been triggered an' went missin' for a weekend in May."

"I'll explain to you," Kritzer said slowly. They would need her support, in any case. "If you'll hear me out and let me finish explaining before you react."

Moira frowned. She didn't like the sound of that. But if she was to get any information out of this woman, then she would listen. "Aye, go ahead. Nay reaction until yer finished."

Kritzer folded her hands and laid them in her lap. "About six years ago, I devised a way to destroy the conditioning Mistra operatives undergo." She stared out at the grounds, gathering her thoughts. "It's the psionic equivalent of a worm program. We tested it on a few ex-operatives and it was effective."

She froze in her chair, staring at the woman. No interruptions but--'A bloody worm program?' she thought, raising an eyebrow.

"It was effective in single cases," Kritzer went on, "but there are still, even now, over sixty Mistra operatives. It took better than twelve hours to implant the program even in operatives whose conditioning was damaged. Getting our hands on operatives still in service was nearly impossible."

Oh, she knew where this was leading. Moira settled back in her chair and folded her hands in her lap, not liking the road this was taking at all. But, again, she didn't interrupt. She needed to hear the end of this little tale.

"So I made a modification, so that the program, if triggered in a telepathic operative, would boost itself to any other operatives in range. A chain reaction, if you would." Kritzer finally looked back at Moira. "He is the only telepathic operative who's ever escaped them."

"Done?" she asked, hands twitching very slightly in her lap.

"Not quite." Kritzer regarded her as levelly as she could. "We never intended him to be reconditioned. Simon - the telepath with the team who captured you - was one of ours. He was supposed to accompany Nathan back to the home facility and trigger him immediately." She shook her head slowly. "We didn't anticipate what happened in that warehouse."

That explained quite a bit about Simon. Moira frowned. "I take it 'e dinnae make it out?" she asked, not quite willing to address the other issue yet.

"Died, when the warehouse collapsed," Kritzer said. "Our other inside people at Mistra aren't at the home facility. We couldn't get any of them back there in time to prevent him from being reconditioned."

"So, let me get this straight. Ye captured Nathan to put this worm in 'is 'ead. Ye were plannin' tha' Nathan was goin' ta, at one point, get recaptured. Thus, pusttin' myself, my students an' th' people tha' I care 'bout in 'arms way. An' then ye were goin' ta use 'im ta start a chain reaction in th' middle o' th' lions den?" Moira stopped and stared hard at the woman in front of her. "Did I miss anythin'?"

"To free sixty other men and women from their conditioning, yes."

Slowly, Moira stood up and gripped the railing. "Yer bloody insane."

Kritzer was silent for a long moment, honestly uncertain of what she was sensing. So many conflicting emotions, and the other woman's mind was in an uproar already... "We're dealing with a group of people who kidnap children and brainwash them to believe they're latter-day Spartans, Doctor MacTaggart. Where is there any sanity in this situation?"

Turning around, Moira leaned against the railing. "An' so ye return ta equally stupid tactics?" she asked, honestly stunned. "I mean, was Columbia jus' a fuckin' testin' ground? I'm pretty sure yer operative knew 'bout tha' attack an' ye decided nay ta warn anyone because, gosh, yer plan would be able ta go off. Instead, 40 plus innocents are know dead, one o' me students almost got killed, another friend who shouldnae been involved got involved, an' Nathan was almost captured. Oh. Whoops. Nay, tha's wha' ye want ta 'appen."

"We didn't know about Columbia ahead of time," Kritzer said steadily. "None of our sources were privy to the operational plan."

"Bullshit. Ye were privy ta th' plans ta kidnap a world renowned genetist. 'ow convinent."

"You have no idea how compartmentalized information is within Mistra," Kritzer said a bit coolly. "How paranoid and divided their command structure is, especially after the government began to investigate them."

"Did it _ever_ occur ta ye an' yer group," Moira said slowly, "tha' ye could 'ave contact 'im an' asked 'im? I know 'e might 'ave agreed because God only knows 'ow much damage they did ta 'im."

"Not good strategy," Kritzer said, a bit reluctantly. "Not with how many telepaths Mistra still has on staff. We had to protect the existence of the worm program. They could counteract it too easily, given time."

"There were still other options." She paused and stared at her, studying her. "Yer 'opin' ta try again, aren't ye?"

"We still have the chance. If we altered his memories and sent him back in, with someone as a prisoner, perhaps..."

"Nay."

Kritzer rose, looking hard at her. "That's selfish," she said very tightly. "He's not alone in what's in his head, Doctor MacTaggart... there are sixty other people just as trapped as he is. A number of them were just as young when they were taken."

Moira straightened her shoulders and stared at the other woman, not backing down. "Ye put me students lives in danger. Ye put me own life in danger. There were other ways ye could 'ave gotten around it." She threw up her hands. "Afraid o' other telepat's findin' out 'bout th' worm? Are ye bloody daft or did ye jus' forget who th' 'ell Charles Xavier is?"

"And we're straying from the point," Kritzer said, her voice clipped. "Are you going to dwell on what's happened and forget the opportunity we still have?"

"Ye really think Charles is goin' ta let ye waltz off wit' Nathan?" she asked, snapping. "Because I sure as 'ell am nay 'bout ta let tha' 'appen. Why should I trust ye when everythin' ye've done 'as been undercover an' secretive?"

"And what, precisely, do you plan to do with him if you don't take advantage of our plan?" Kritzer said, more nettled than she should have been. But everything had gone so disastrously wrong, and MacTaggart wasn't seeing what was right in front of her... "Keep him locked up indefinitely? Xavier has had no luck removing even Nathan's broken conditioning - what success do you think he'll have when it's in full operation?"

"Wha's stoppin' ye from doin' wha' ye were goin' ta do now, 'ere, instead o' there?" Moira asked. "Ye verra obviously 'ave th' key, use it."

"That frees him," Kritzer said harshly. "It doesn't help the rest."

She stepped closer, glowering. "There's nay difference between ye an' Mistra," she hissed. "Using' people against their will--different reasons, different sides o' th' spectrum, aye. But yer usin' their tactics. Thought ye were supposed ta be better than they are."

"He has killed," Kritzer said slowly, glaring at her, "over thirty of his fellow operatives in the last seven years, Doctor MacTaggart. I'd say he owes them."

"Ye know, in any court, tha's called self-defense. Try a new one."

Kritzer raised her chin, regarding the woman coldly. "And how much does he blame himself for it? For leaving them all behind and running for it?"

An eyebrow arched. "Considerin' wha' they did ta 'is family? Some but th' whole killin' thin' kind o' equalizes it out." Moira's fists clenched tightly, this woman was pushing her luck and pushing it quickly.

"You'd make that decision for him, then?" Kritzer snapped. "Take away his opportunity to do something truly worthwhile with his life?"

There had been a line and Kritzer just walked all over it. Moira assumed she was a pretty strong telepath but it was clear she wasn't expecting a physical retaliation. It happened before either of them could blink as Moira simply pulled back her right arm, stepped a little closer--and connected solidly with the other woman's nose. With a startled curse, she stumbled backwards and ended up tripping over the chair. Moira walked over and glared down at her. "Wron' thin' ta say. I 'ave a feelin' it willnae be yer last mistake."

Kritzer started to reach out, to silence the woman and 'suggest' that she sit down, but she was suddenly, acutely aware of Xavier's presence. Silent, but with a definite warning edge. She rose, giving Moira another cold look.

"I'll save my breath, then," she said thickly, wiping the blood away from her nose. "For someone who's thinking a little more objectively. Really, Doctor, I understand that losing a psi-link is disorienting, but you should be able to see the logic in this."

#Kill the bitch!# Askani was raving in the back of Moira's mind.

#I dinnae think tha'll go over verra well,# she sent, still feeling a sense of pleasure at the punch. "Listen ta me an' listen closely. Ye messed up mont's ago, ye missed many good opportunities. I've thought it through--yer plan is fuckin' daft, 'as holes large enough ta fly a jet through. On top o' th' fact tha' I dinnae trust ye as far as I can pick yer ass up an' through ye." She leaned closer. "I think yer 'idin' somethin', I dinnae think yer givin' me all th' facts. So until then? Fuck off, leave Nathan alone, an' stop puttin' everythin' I care 'bout in danger."

"We'll see," Kritzer said, turning on her heel. Surely MacInnis had had more luck with Wisdom, and perhaps Xavier would be more receptive. "Good day, Doctor," she said with as much dignity as she could muster.

#Die screaming, zhahallis'ahl!# Askani hurled after her, and then withdrew, emanating worry that Moira could almost feel. #Xavier will not, will he?#

#I dinnae think so,# she reassured, straightening up. #I 'ave a feelin' 'e caught a great deal o' me exchange. There are ta many 'oles in 'er plane for 'im ta agree wit' it. I know Charles.#

#Something more,# Askani fretted. #There was something more she didn't tell us. I could see it in her eyes. Oh, if only you were telepathic...#

#If wishes were 'orses, a giant clydesdale would 'ave fallen on tha' woman.#

#... that is too entertaining an image,# Askani said with a trace of helpless humor in her voice. #Oh, Moira,# she sighed, the despair slipping back into her words. #This hurts. Not as it does you, but it does...#

#I know. We all miss 'im--different reasons, perhaps, but we all do.# She shut her eyes tightly. The surge of anger and punching the woman had made her feel better for a minute but the adreniline was starting to die down.

#You should rest,# Askani said almost gently. #He would not thank you for not caring for yourself, sister.#

#Seems all I've been doin' lately is restin', I dinnae think I can sleep tonight. Nay without 'elp an' I 'ate takin' medicine.#

#Then find yourself some company,# Askani suggested with a sigh. #Someone other than the ghost in your head.#

#This is a wee bit odd,# she admitted. #But 'tis better than bein' alone.#

Kritzer and MacInnis finally speak to Charles, at Nathan's bedside. The full implications of their plan are discussed, but there's a twist that not even MacInnis expected. The rest of the truth behind Nathan's lost weekend back in May is revealed, and the ending isn't what any side in this situation might have expected.

MacInnis glanced down at the man on the bed, his jaw clenching a little, and then looked up, across the bed, at Xavier. "I didn't like this idea either, when she put it to me," he admitted, inclining his head to indicate Kritzer, standing over by the door, her lined face utterly serene as she watched them. "We got into this hoping to get them out, away from Mistra. The idea of sending him back in, even for a bigger purpose..."

"And I keep telling you that your attacks of conscience are pointless, Colin," Kritzer said crisply, then turned her attention to Xavier. "It will work," she said forcefully. "I embedded the empathic key in his mind back in May, and I can tell just by looking at him that it's taken work. If it's triggered back at the Mistra facility, it will use his telepathy to free him and every other operative within miles from their conditioning. Isn't that worth the risk?"

"We wouldn't have to be asking, if Simon hadn't died in that warehouse," MacInnis said heavily. "He was supposed to do this as soon as Nathan was taken back there." A trace of pain crossed his face. "We never intended him to be reconditioned."

"And yet he was, despite your intentions." Charles' voice was edged. "Considering the amount of trust you've shown me where Nathan is concerned, I find it more than a little ironic that you're now asking me to trust you." He shifted his regard to Kritzer. "And you, so far, have spoken only of the potential benefits. That are worth the risk, in your opinion. You have very carefully avoided outlining that risk."

"I'll reiterate," Kritzer said, more calmly. "It is a worm program, for lack of a better description. Both telepathic and empathic in nature. When triggered, it will destroy his own conditioning and then leap-frog using his telepathy to do the same for those around him." Her eyes, in contrast to her tone, were fierce. "I have spent the last fifteen years devising this. Refining it. It is the most efficient mechanism I could determine."

"I am well aware of the principle, Ms. Kritzer. Nor am I asking for your qualifications. You are still failing to address my primary question, which is: what will happen to Nathan if you are wrong?"

"I am not wrong," Kritzer said, an edge of tension to her voice. "It will work; there is no question of that. There will be psionic damage, certainly, to him and to the other operatives affected. Less so for the second-gen operatives. First-gen operatives may require telepathic intervention after the fact, as their conditioning runs so much deeper."

MacInnis looked from one telepath to the other, trying not to frown. Headblind though he might be, he could still almost feel the tension here, the incipient confrontation. "We've got to be able to make this work," he said almost desperately. "Nathan's the only telepathic operative who's ever been in a position where this was even feasible. If this is our only chance..."

"I am not--as yet--dismissing the plan out of hand." Charles regarded both of them for a moment. "I will remind you, however, that we are here today as a direct result of a choice to use Nathan as a weapon, ignoring his essential humanity in favor of a so-called higher purpose." His gaze flicked back to Kritzer. "'Attacks of conscience,' as you put it, are the only thing separating you from those whom you claim to oppose." He turned back to MacInnis. "Assuming, for the moment, that all goes according to plan, how do you intend to extract Nathan and the other freed operatives after their conditioning is broken?"

"We have enough people of our own to account for Mistra's security teams," MacInnis said, relieved when the conversation turned back to practicalities. Those were his department, after all. "We can have them in place, ready to move as soon as this happens. We're counting on the disarray. There are going to be sixty-odd field operatives dropping like stones all over that facility."

"I see. Can you be certain that the process won't trigger their powers?"

MacInnis looked to Kritzer, who looked ambivalent for the first time in the conversation. "We've tried it with single operatives," she said after a moment. "Escapees, or those we had... liberated. There were no cases where their powers were triggered." She hesitated, then went on, a trace of reluctance in her voice. "But they were all second-gen operatives. Nathan would be our first test of the process on a first-gen operative."

"There aren't that many of them left anymore," MacInnis said, real pain in his voice as he thought of all of those kids, twenty years ago now. "Around twenty, out of the sixty-five."

Charles' lips thinned, his eyes growing penetrating and cool as he studied Kritzer. "What you are saying, in effect, is that you have an untested process that you wish to use on an already-damaged mind. What aren't you telling me, Ms. Kritzer?" He indicated Nathan's unconscious form with an economical gesture. "And please bear in mind that for his sake, I'm perfectly willing to find out for myself; I extend you the opportunity to cooperate as a courtesy." His tone cooled another degree. "A courtesy which will last only as long as my patience."

MacInnis looked from one telepath to the other again, wondering why Kritzer was pulling the cold and dismissive act. It reminded him of how she'd been when they'd both been at Mistra, but it had been years since he'd seen her put that front up. Had it been the confrontation with Moira MacTaggart? That had been a bad idea, in retrospect...

Kritzer glanced at Nathan, and for a moment there was a trace of regret in her eyes. "Isn't it worth the risks? Freeing over sixty men and women from bondage? Before they continue to kill each other over the black ops equivalent of office politics?"

MacInnis blinked. In all the years he'd known her, he had never known this woman to outright evade a question like that.

"You have asked that question a number of times, Ms. Kritzer. I'm afraid I can't answer it until you are completely forthcoming about the nature of those risks." Charles' telepathic presence flooded the room--not testing Kritzer's defenses, not yet, but making it absolutely clear that the option to do so was on the table. "I won't ask you again."

"Sharon," MacInnis said, not understanding. He frowned. "You've given me estimates on what sort of psionic damage would be involved. What's the problem?"

"It would be reparable," Kritzer said very quietly. "There's no point to this unless it is. The obedience compulsions, the tactical imperatives... them breaking would cause psionic shock. The problem is the artificial empathic compartmentalization, the checks on their powers, the memory inhibitions if they have any..."

""Reparable' is a very subjective word, Ms. Kritzer." Charles studied her carefully. "When I use it, for example, it means that after a time, Nathan will be well, whole, and happy, with no artificial restraints on his free will, able to live the life _he_ chooses, with no more . . . surprises . . . waiting in the wings. I suspect you mean something rather different. And I will hear your definition before we proceed any further with this plan."

"The first-generation operatives will require psionic surgery," Kritzer said, her jaw visibly clenching. "I believe we can keep them stable until they can be attended. There may be permanent damage, but I think we have to consider it a trade-off."

"I believe we may be suffering from definition creep again, Ms. Kritzer, with regard to trade-offs." Charles smiled humorlessly. "And I have failed students before for more precise language than you are currently employing. What _kind_ of permanent damage?"

"Dissociative disorders, possibly. If not, then inability to control their emotions - their natural mechanisms to do so were coopted by the conditioning, and may be damaged by its sudden removal." Kritzer's expression went bleak. "They... we forced them to sublimate so much. Without the controls, it may all emerge."

"And the consequences to Nathan himself, as the trigger for this series of events?" There was a certain amount of razor-edged amusement in Charles' voice as he continued. "Those of us who pioneered modern telepathic technique do tend to differ on the question of credit, but if I did not invent the focused-misdirection psionic defence, I can still recognize one when I see it, and you, Ms. Kritzer, have been avoiding any thoughts of Nathan so assiduously that you may as well have posted a sign."

Kritzer stared at Nathan for a long moment, and then turned her attention back to Charles. "I should probably have known better," she murmured. "Very well, then. There would be similar consequences for Nathan as a subject of this process. Possibly more severe, given the extensiveness of his conditioning." She smiled a bit tightly, real sorrow in her eyes. "He wasn't 'retrieved' solely for his competence. There are depths to the alterations to his mind that are unique. He was designed from the ground up to be Mistra's field commander."

MacInnis stared at her, not sure he understood what was going on here, what was happening. "But he's not... just a subject of the process, Sharon," he said slowly, troubled. This wasn't... no, he had to be misunderstanding...

"No," Kritzer said, looking right at him. "He's not, Colin." She glanced back at Charles. "It will kill him," she said, her voice very low. "Not the process itself, but when it uses his telepathy to boost itself to the other operatives. The backlash, the feedback, will kill him." She was very carefully not looking at MacInnis, who grasped suddenly for the back of a chair, as if his legs had suddenly decided to refuse to hold him. "It will kill him. That's not a possibility, it's a certainty."

Charles nodded calmly. "That is completely unacceptable. Good day, Ms. Kritzer, Mr. MacInnis. Thank you for helping to retrieve Nathan, but I believe we may dispense with wasting any more of each other's time."

Kritzer's jaw clenched. "And you plan to leave him like this?" she asked, gesturing at Nathan's still form.

MacInnis was staring at her still, unable to absorb the information. She had sworn to him... she had convinced him... no more deaths, she'd said... "We were supposed to be saving them," he said hoarsely.

Charles arched an eyebrow. "If you are at all amenable to triggering the removal of Nathan's conditioning here, where the process will not spread to other agents and, therefore, not kill him--unless you are still attempting to deceive me, which would be remarkably unwise--then I am willing to listen. If you are not, then we have no further business, and I will locate the trigger myself once you have removed yourselves from my property." He nodded in MacInnis's direction, never taking his eyes of Kritzer. "I suggest, Ms. Kritzer, that you re-examine your priorities. Pragmatism is a laudable trait only when not carried to extremes."

"Do you know how many other operatives he's killed?" Kritzer demanded, her voice strained. "The ones who've been sent after him... thirty-two, Xavier. The majority of them were just like him, no better than children when they were taken..."

"And what?" MacInnis asked, slowly, the horror starting to harden into something else. "That means he owes his life in return?" Kritzer looked at him, honestly looking shocked, as if she'd expected support, and although he kept a tight grip on his anger, it soared within him, betrayal turning into rage. "God damn you to hell, woman," he said, his voice raw. "We're the ones who did this to them! How dare--" Nathan stirred on the bed, a moan escaping him, and MacInnis cut himself off, his eyes wide as his gaze shifted to the man's face, even as his mind filled with images of the boy Nathan had been all those years ago. "Xavier," he said, very quietly. "If you can tell whether or not she's telling the truth... if it's safe to trigger him here... I can give you the trigger."

"Colin--"

"Shut up before I kill you myself!" MacInnis snapped at her. "Were you that confident that I'd follow your lead, whatever you did?" He swallowed, his throat feeling like sandpaper. "God damn you," he said again, meaning it. His eyes stinging as his gaze went back to Nathan's face.

"Thank you, Mr. MacInnis." Charles' voice was hard. "If Ms. Kritzer is still laboring under the misapprehension that she can deceive me, I will be quite happy to disabuse her of the notion. Ms. Kritzer?"

Kritzer's face was white. But defeat was in her eyes, in her voice, as she spoke. "He'll survive. If it's not transmitted. I'm not sure of his range, but if you shield him sufficiently, prevent him from projecting..." She shook her head slowly, her gaze turning back to MacInnis. "You have been working for this for twenty years, Colin," she said, sounding disbelieving. "Everything you wanted, and you're going to let him--"

"I wanted them alive," MacInnis said raggedly. "I wanted them free. All of them." He looked away from her. "If I have to go back to doing it one by one, Sharon, I will. Until the day I die."

"You idiot," Kritzer spat. "And how many more of them will die now?"

MacInnis went over and stood beside Nathan's bed, staring down at him. "I don't know," he whispered. "But not this one." He looked back at Charles. "The trigger is the verse of an Irish folksong called 'Minstrel Boy'. The second verse." He closed his eyes for a moment and thought it at Charles.

#'The minstrel fell, but the foeman's steel,
could not bring that proud soul under;
The harp he loved ne'er spoke again,
For he tore its chords asunder;
And said 'No chains shall sully thee,
Thou soul of love and bravery!
Thy songs were made for the pure and free
They shall never sound in slavery!'#

Then he saw it, and the horror and guilt won out over the anger at last. "Right in front of me all along," he whisped hoarsely, unable to look at Kritzer. "He's supposed to be the harp."

"Not anymore," Charles said quietly. "Not anymore. Thank you, Mr. MacInnis. I hope, if we ever chance to work together again, that it will be under less adversarial conditions."

"As do I," MacInnis said hoarsely. He reached out and laid a hand on Nathan's shoulder for a moment. "I'm sorry, son," he said under his breath, then turned away before the last of his self-control went. "I'll take my people and go," he said hoarsely, unable to meet Xavier's eyes. Kritzer stiffened, but he came over and took her arm, making it very clear that she was coming with him whether she wanted to or not.

"I'll remember you to Nathan when he wakes up, Mr. MacInnis." His voice sharpened one last time. "And Ms. Kritzer. Luke, chapter six, verse forty-two. Good day."