-X- X-Men: Foundations part 2: Changing World Summary Chapter 1: Bright Stars Chapter 2:Stand Still Chapter 3: Empire State University Chapter4: Distant Early Warnings Chapter 5: Brand Annex Chapter 6: Open Secrets Chapter 7: Change of Faith Chapter 8:Winter Breaks Chapter 9: Healing Breaks Chapter 10: Ice Skate Eve Chapter 11: Razor's Edge Chapter 12:Last Call Chapter 13: Thoughts Ignite Chapter 14: Red Tide Chapter 15: The Pass Chapter 16: Spring Breaks Chapter 17: Kid Gloves Chapter 18: Second Natures Chapter 19: Prime Movers Chapter 20: Moving Parts Chapter 21: Barriers Fall Chapter 22: Hand Over Hand Chapter 23: Hand Over Fist Chapter 24: Open Hand Chapter 25: Open Hand Closed Fist Chapter 26: Racing Heart -XX-
X-Men: Foundations part 2: Changing World
Chapter 5
-X-
Brand Annex
A short time later Scott, Ororo, and Jean stood outside a large circular atrium that marked the centerpiece of the new Brand Annex. They waited to make their way inside, among a throng of other invited guests: students and faculty, but also press, industry, and political insiders, all there to see the latest in Brand Corp. technical facilities. It was a bigger, fancier affair than Scott had expected. Somehow, in his head, he’d envisioned something similar to the announcement on the quad. Something still relatively informal despite the setting and the dress code. But if that event was Shakespeare In The Park, this one was closer to opening night on Broadway. “You nervous?” Jean was steadily gripping his arm tighter as they walked up the stairs. “A little,” she realized, letting up on her grip with a nervous laugh. “Too many people?” he asked quietly. “No, that part’s okay,” she replied. “Just good old-fashioned stage fright, I think.” Scott smiled. “You’ll do fine,” he reassured her certainly. “Hey, Summers!” Scott turned to see a familiar face making his way through the crowd. “I thought that was you– but then I thought, there’s no way S.J. sends both of us to cover a glorified ribbon-cutting ceremony.” Scott laughed. “Nope. I’m here unofficially. Emory Holmes, I’d like you to meet my friends–” “I already know Jean Grey, whose reputation on the Human Genome Project precedes her.” Emory smiled in greeting. “And whom I hope might be willing to grant me an interview at some point tonight?” But before Jean could consider that request Emory had already turned to Ororo. “Now, this lovely creature must be none other than–” “Ororo Monroe.” “Ororo. That is a beautiful name. Allow me to escort you inside?” He offered his arm. Ororo straightened to full height then inclined her head regally. “Very well,” she decided. Scott and Jean exchanged impressed looks before following them inside. “Where to now, Miss Grey?” Scott asked. “Well, I’m supposed to report to Dr. Waren to help with tours of the lab– but I want to say ‘hi’ to Professor Xavier first.” “Is he here already then?” Jean gave a dry laugh. “Everyone’s here, Scott.” He paused in scanning the room for familiar faces and gave a worried glance in her direction. But Jean seemed nothing but happy, completely in her element now. “This way.” She steered him toward the center of the room, a massive convergence of circular stairs and floor-to-ceiling windows all carefully designed to show off the multiple floors of surrounding research space, all of it gleaming and spotless under the rows of lights which lined the darkened skylights above them, giving the illusion of a bright starry night outside. Scott looked over his shoulder. “Should we bring Ro along?” “Believe me, Ro is fine with Emory.” Scott blinked then smiled. “Really?” “Really,” Jean concluded. “Well, damn.” In all the time he’d known her, Scott had never known Ororo to so much as have a crush on anyone nor to entertain similar interests toward her– and just in their time here, he’d seen enough guys attempt to capture her interest. Ororo had always seemed just a little above such mundane things. “I think Emory’s a good guy,” Scott decided. High praise coming from Scott, and Scott was generally a good judge of character. Jean only smirked. “For his sake, I would certainly hope so.” Scott couldn’t disagree there. “I wouldn’t want to incur the wrath of a goddess,” he agreed. But he was also aware of Jean’s implicit approval. Seemed Emory had three votes in his favor thus far... least of all being Ro’s.
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“So, what’s up with Summers and Jean Grey?” Ororo responded with no more than an elegantly raised questioning eyebrow. “You can tell me it’s ‘nonna my business,” Emory conceded, “but I thought, for sure, the way he talked about that girl, she was way out of his league. Then she comes in here tonight on his arm, pretty as you please.” “I’m afraid I don’t have an answer for that question beyond, it’s complicated.” “You know he’s crazy about her?” Ororo gave an understated nod. “So... that’s not too complicated; maybe you could tell your friend to give the dude a chance?” Ororo tilted her chin, simultaneously evaluating Emory and his request. “Scott is just as much my friend as Jean is. Neither of them need my playing matchmaker, nor would they appreciate my interference in their personal business.” “Okay. That’s fair,” he decided. “I misunderstood the situation.” He gave a little sigh. “Vastly superior as your company is, I’m afraid I do have a job to do. And I think I see Ralph Roberts over there.” “Would you like an introduction?” Emory smiled widely. “You know him?” “His younger brother, Ted, is a friend, and at the moment Ralph is speaking with several Xavier Institute alumni and friends of the school. I would be glad to make your introductions.” “By all means. Seems not only am I honored to be escorting the most strikingly lovely attendee here tonight, but I’ve also found myself a very well-connected source.” “This way,” Ororo steered him toward Ralph and Ted. “That’s Roberts talking with Dr. Conors?” Ororo nodded. “The other dark-headed gentleman is Dr. Hank McCoy. The blonde-headed gentleman is Warren Worthington III. Each of them teach at the Xavier Institute.” “Ororo.” Both Hank and Warren greeted her with polite hugs, as did Candy and Vera. Then Ororo introduced Emory. “Whatever happened to that cobalt suit you were developing for NASA, Ralph?” Conors asked. “Good Lord, I hadn’t thought about that project in years. Hank, I bet you remember that one.” Hank nodded. “That was one of your early studies into negating the effects of nuclear radiation, I believe.” Ralph Roberts nodded. “Back when we were going to save the world.” “So young and full of dreams,” Hank agreed fondly. Ralph returned his attention to Conors. “I thought Starcore might bite on that project, make me a household name. I could finally introduce myself as Cobalt Man.” Ted rolled his eyes, fighting back laughter. “Nobody was ever gonna call you that, Ralph.” Ralph shrugged, also laughing quietly. “No such luck with NASA either. But no project is ever a failure, right? We were able to fold the solar radiation research from Karl Lykos’ lab in Argentina into a nuclear medicine project for Dr. Waren. Of course, a lot of our up-and-coming projects have had to take a backseat to the genome project. It’s thrown all of Karl’s and Waren’s other work into flux.” “Cal’s lab is working on nuclear medicine research now,” Ted volunteered, motioning toward his friend and roommate, Calvin Rankin. “Working under Serba then,” Conors presumed. “Yes, sir,” Cal confirmed. “Excuse me, Mr. Roberts,” Emory took advantage of a slight lull in conversation to make his pitch. “I’m with Excelsior News Radio. Think I could get a quick interview?” “‘Fraid I’m not authorized to speak for Brand publicly. You know how it is, Roxxon spends way too much money on advertising and PR to risk my saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. But,” he motioned to his younger brother and Cal Rankin, “these guys are free and clear to talk, and to sing Brand’s praises, we hope,” he added with a boisterous laugh. “If you don’t mind,” Emory flipped on a tape recorder. He couldn’t help but notice that, after putting Cal and Ted in the media spotlight, Ralph quickly excused himself. “Can you tell me a little about your research here at the Brand Annex?” “Sure.” Cal looked happy and surprised for the unexpected audience. “I’m a student researcher in the Serba Lab and our speciality is nuclear medicine-mediated cancer research.” “Can you explain that for the non-science-indoctrinated crowd?” “Well, we use cloned cells to induce cancer mutations–” “Cloning. Like... clones of people?” “Lord, no. Way less sci-fi than that. We’re starting with cells grown in the lab, mostly from mice. We alter their DNA with a mutagenic substance, then detect and treat the resulting cancer cells using nuclear medicine, all so we can study the life cycle of the cancer cells. The ultimate goal is to make healthy human cells that can reproduce the way the cancer cells do.” “So– kill the cancer, but mutate good cells to mimic the way cancer rapidly reproduces itself.” “That’s the dream. Imagine if we could grow new hearts, livers, kidneys from a patient’s own healthy cells while simultaneously eradicating the diseased cells.” “That sounds miraculous.” “Exactly. But I’d settle for one tiny baby step in the right direction. If we could figure out a way to simply shut down the cancer cells instead of having to kill them with radiation or chemotherapy....” Cal trailed off. “Then we’d all be rich and famous,” Ted concluded, to laughter all around. Emory shook their hands and turned off his recorder. “That was great. Thanks, guys.” He turned to find that everyone else had drifted away into the party except for Ororo. “Now what,” she asked him. “Now, let me get you a drink? Then, later, maybe I could chat with your friend, Jean, about her research?” Ororo nodded, taking Emory’s arm once more. “I think that can be arranged.”
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Across the room, Dr. Conors – now joined by his friends, Drs. Otto and Rosalie Octavius – had crossed paths with Professor Xavier just after Scott and Jean’s arrival. “Not only is one of Charles’s students my newest wiz kid,” Conors alternated between narrating for their benefit and continuing his conversation with Xavier, “I hear another of your students is leading Dr. Waren’s prize project.” “Ah, yes.” Xavier was beaming like a proud parent. “Jean Grey has a very bright future ahead of her. Working on the Human Genome Project is just the beginning of a distinguished medical career.” “And Scott Summers. With his talent for astrophysics– I’ll have my work cut out for me just keeping this one in the Physics Department. First I was certain Engineering, or even NASA, would recruit him out from under me. I’ll admit I was a bit floored when he told me his end goal was teaching prep. school students at your new Institute, Charles.” Jean nudged Scott in the ribs, teasingly. He smiled at her and hoped his ears weren’t noticeably turning red. Dr. Conors was always ribbing Scott over his not wanting to lose Scott to other departments. “I’m happy in the Physics Department,” Scott offered, “but the truth is, I wouldn’t be here at all if not for the Xavier Institute. After I finish my degree I want to help open that door to others like myself, who might not get the chance otherwise.” “I can certainly understand that. Nobel instinct, to give back.” Otto Octavius did not sound so convinced, despite his words to the contrary. “That’s a wonderful goal, Scott,” Rosie Octavius decided. “Just remember, Scott, someone of your aptitude–” Conors told Scott proudly, “you can write your own ticket in life.” Rosie gave an amused smile. “Perhaps he already has his ticket in hand, Curtis.” She returned her attention to Scott and Jean. “Always take the path you feel is meant for you, and no one else. All the rest – opportunity, money, prestige – will fall into place when you are doing meaningful work.” After thanking them for their advice, Jean watched Otto and Rosie Octavius mingle their way over to another nearby group that included Dr. Waren. Jean had been waiting for indication that he was ready to start up tours of the facility. She sensed a sharp change in the overall exuberant mood of the group just as Dr. Serba approached Dr. Waren.
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“I’m really sorry, sir, but I think you’ll need to see this... and maybe– not– go outside.” Ralph Roberts edged around to look over Serba’s shoulder as he showed what looked like a small hand-held TV set to Dr. Waren. Likely a link to Brand Corp.’s closed circuit security feed. “I see they’ve brought out the greatest hits,” Ralph observed dryly. Protest signs could clearly be seen among a neat line forming on the sidewalk outside. One featured the slogan: Creation Not Cloning, accompanied by an exaggerated cartoon image of a human-sized jackal in lab coat haphazardly mixing brightly colored test tubes. Waren remained stone-faced for a beat. “Thanks for the warning, Anthony. Please keep me apprised.” Then he turned his attention to Ralph. “Yes. Only slightly more appropriate here, at my place of work, than when they show up at my daughter’s charity vigils to insist her death was divine punishment for my wickedness.” An awkward silence fell in the wake of his quietly bitter words. “Yet, I’m expected to calmly tolerate their venomous ignorance and rank cruelty for the sake of their rights to free speech and, of course, their religious freedom.” He forced a grim smile. “So, we soldier on.” “Good man,” Ralph offered encouragingly. He also offered Dr. Waren a drink from a passing server’s tray. “How about you help me introduce tonight’s first guest of honor?” “Glad to. Is he ready?” Ralph checked his watch. “And waiting.” Dr. Waren downed his drink and the two men made their way up to a small stage, built to one side of the atrium for tonight’s proceedings. Ralph jogged up the steps and said a few words to get the crowd’s attention before handing over the mic to Dr. Waren. As Dr. Waren spoke Ralph made his way over to Hank and Vera. “What have you got up your sleeve now, Ralph?” Vera asked. Ralph was looking uncharacteristically sheepish as he approached them. “A couple of things,” he conceded, “but at the moment Dr. Waren is about to introduce Brand’s special envoy for tonight’s event, Carl Maddicks.” “Lang’s ‘acquisitions’ expert,” Vera noted coolly. “Officially, Brand’s CEO,” Ralph countered. “A polite business title for theft and espionage,” Hank concurred with Vera. “Given, Mad is a ruthless tycoon in the boardroom,” Ralph admitted, “but he’s also ingenious. How else do you stay at the top of a company like Brand for so long?” “Not ethically,” Hank answered. Ralph made a surrender motion. “All way above my pay grade anyway. Tonight Carl Maddicks is here as a special guest of Dr. Lykos.” “Carl always was thick as thieves with Karl Lykos,” Vera remembered. Ralph ignored that commentary. “Now that the Annex is officially open, I’m here to close the deal with Waren for access to his research. And Mad is taking custody of the work tonight.” For a moment there was only shocked silence. “Miles Waren is selling his research to Brand?” “It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement. Brand provided this facilities upgrade, Waren lands the Human Genome Project research for ESU–” “And the cost is a man’s life’s work.” “Hank, you know that research was going nowhere in Waren’s hands. A pipe dream.” “I don’t mean to talk out of school,” Vera offered cautiously, “but I’m a little relieved to see him let that project go. He was a bit too attached, if you know what I mean. False hope that somehow...” she trailed off. Hank nodded. He’d heard that Waren had taken the loss of his youngest daughter in a car crash very hard, really thrown himself into the work after that. “Vera, I wonder if you might give me a few moments with Hank?” Hank nodded and patted Vera’s arm agreeably before she consented to step away. “I take it there’s more,” Hank prompted. Ralph nodded. “Now that he’s got Waren’s project in hand, the only white whale left for Mad to chase from the old days is one of yours, Hank.” A slight smile crossed Hank’s face. “I know not all that may be coming, but be it what it will, I’ll go to it laughing.” “Quote Melville all you like.... I just wanted you to know.”
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Vera made sure to keep Hank in her sights as she made her way over to Candy and Warren. “Are you sure?” Warren asked Candy. “Positive,” Candy confirmed. “Hanging around Lykos; what his angle is, I have no idea yet.” “Possible they met as part of Lykos’ hypnotherapy work?” Vera joined in the conversation. “That fad was all the rage among the rich and famous set–” “Before Lykos got dragged as a fraud and a con,” Candy concluded. “Could be the con part Mastermind was in on,” Warren countered. “That would make sense,” Candy offered, “but Wyngarde also likes the flashy stuff. He’s more a fancy-jewel-and-bank-robbery kind of a thief. If he’s here, he’s after something more concrete... or working for someone who is.” Warren nodded. “Working for someone. Jason Wyngarde is both a mercenary and a coward. He’ll sell his skills to the highest bidder or barter them away to someone he can hide behind when the heat catches up to him. In the past that’s been Erik Lehnsherr, but more recently he’s relied on the Hellfire Club.” “Could be he’s turning those skills to corporate espionage,” Vera suggested. “It’s not like the Hellfire Club to take an interest in science or higher education.” “Unless there’s money to be made or influence to be garnered,” Candy agreed. “This Annex project is drawing a lot of tech sector interest toward Brand Corp. Most of Lang’s competitors would love the chance to either get in on the action or derail Brand’s success before their own stock interests take a hit,” Warren concluded. “Either way, we’ll continue keeping an eye on Lykos’ contacts,” said Candy. Vera nodded, just as Maddicks wrapped his remarks to polite applause, and she breathed a little easier as Hank rejoined them.
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After the speech Scott walked with Jean over to stage right, where Dr. Waren’s students had gathered in an informal staging area, waiting to get their marching instructions. He’d barely wrapped up with them before someone across the room tuned a TV to the ESU campus’ local access station. Miles Waren’s face paled noticeably. Ralph’s gaze followed his. “So much for ignoring them,” he muttered. “Well, if we can’t shut them up let’s do our best to carry on.” Ralph was eager to start the tours, eager to show off the new Annex to their guests and to give Maddicks his victory lap. “In that case– I’m gonna need another drink,” Waren decided.
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“You have got to be kidding me.” Scott did a double take when he saw the TV screen. “Summers. Tell me you’re seeing this.” Scott nodded, glancing between Emory and Ororo before looking back to the screen. “I see it.” Cameron Hodge had gotten himself time on Excelsior Student TV. Live outside the Brand event, he was interviewing student protesters, using them to air his unflattering views against Brand, their partnership with ESU, and the Human Genome Project – all with a wide variety of objections that went well beyond the scope of student protest. It was blatant propaganda. “Keep an eye on this side show. I’m going to check in with S.J., see if he wants me on this.” Cam’s first interview was Trish Tilby. Using her position as a reporter to describe the protest, giving it legitimacy. Next the protest organizer: a student Scott didn’t know, named Mike Pensive. Wisely, Cam didn’t linger too long on his religious fanaticism nor on the uncouth protest methods of many in his group. Lastly Cam interviewed Henry Peter Gyrich. Scott knew him as an upperclassman who’d run unsuccessfully for student office, and he was a close friend of Cam’s. Dressed in suit and tie with a crisp, neat appearance, he looked the part of young professional. His arguments sounded like they came straight off the Daily Bugle’s opinion pages, casting ESU’s Brand partnership as a liberal arts affront to capitalism. And Hodge was lapping up every moment of having him on camera. Scott briefly glanced aside as Emory returned. “What’s the verdict?” “Shockingly, he says it’s our call.” “You’re going on air with this story, it’s your call,” Scott retorted. “I’m drafting you,” Emory decided, “from here on out, until we put this story to bed, you’re my wingman, Summers. S.J.’s only directive was to make sure we get an accurate reading on this protest, if it’s legit or a contrived PR stunt, and frame it accordingly.” “Based on the players, and what I’ve seen of the content, I’m leaning hard toward the latter. I know both Henry Peter Gyrich and Trish Tilby through Cameron Hodge. Both of them are too close to him for their involvement in this to be organic. I’m not familiar with the third player, Pensive. Jean mentioned his church, Church of Humanity, in connection with this planned protest. But it seems a particularly virulent protest to be coming from a religious group.” “We know him,” Amanda offered. “And virulent social protest is kinda their church’s calling card.” Scott quickly introduced Amanda and Meggan to Emory. “Michael Pensive is practically a professional protester, with an ultra-religious bent. He pickets Sociology, the Sciences, even the School of Religion, all because they teach contrary to his church,” Amanda expounded. “His church has been on a particularly ruthless crusade against Dr. Waren for the better part of the last year,” Emory added. “They don’t like his cloning research, and have gone so far as to use his own daughter’s death against him.” “That’s terrible!” Meggan exclaimed. “He’s a real piece of work,” Emory agreed. “Nothing resembling humanity about that church. Yet they give him his own TV slot, The Sunday Power Hour, for Excelsior TV. Otherwise he’ll make a big fuss about the university trying to suppress religious expression on campus. If I had to guess, I’d say his connections to the Excelsior TV station are how this protest is broadcasting live right now.”
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Scott, Emory, and Ororo made their way outside to further investigate, accompanied by Amanda and Meggan, just in time for the arrival of the night’s second guest of honor. The protest crowd got restless as some pushing and shouting ensued, and some of those on the sidewalk attempted to rush the car in response just as Dr. Moira MacTaggert got out. Ororo stepped up to help Scott with crowd control and was surprised to find herself joined in that task by Meggan and Amanda. A sudden burst of wind separated some protestors from their signs and pushed a few others back onto the sidewalk in retreat. Moira, herself, was well-protected with an escort from her own security team, which had seemed to emerge out of nowhere almost as soon as she stepped onto the sidewalk. Then she was met at the building by Ralph and Hank, as well as Karl Lykos. They quickly delivered her upstairs for a tour of the labs while the university heads huddled down in the atrium, worrying over what to do about the scene outside. “If I may be so bold, gentlemen, what you need to do is pull the plug on this propaganda nightmare,” Candy Southern motioned to the TV, “and offer some counter programming.” After a brief discussion the decision was made to pull Cameron Hodge off the air. Chancellor Kurtzberg was off to make a phone call to Excelsior TV while President Lieber approached Dr. MacTaggert with a request that she give some brief, impromptu remarks aimed at offsetting the drama caused by the protest... which had just aired live to the entire campus and was sure to grab the attentions of other live local news shows before their late night broadcasts hit the airwaves. Moira agreed, and was just as quickly introduced to the stage by the president of the university. After offering her greetings to the gathering and thanks to ESU for having her, Dr. MacTaggert’s remarks opened with an observation on the protests they had seen tonight. “Scientific progress and exploration,” she began, speaking calmly and confidently (and with a slight but undeniable Scottish brogue), “have always come into friction with the norms and beliefs of society at large. This friction is not unusual, but to be expected. It is normal to doubt and to question as science now challenges the norms it earlier endorsed. Be it the flatness of the Earth, or the movement of the stars in the heavens, or the evolution of mankind. There is always a tendency to resist the unfamiliar for the sake of the familiar. Sometimes it takes bravery to pursue objective truth. Patience to parse truth from contradiction through the work of science. “Darwin once spoke of ‘abominable mystery.’ By which he meant: the seeming suddenness of evolution, which contradicted his collected observations that the process of evolution could not happen suddenly but was instead reliant upon slow and steady progress, sometimes taking millennia. It is my belief that Darwin’s illusive mystery is at last close within our grasp. That, within the human genome, we may find yet undiscovered puzzle pieces of slow evolution. Changes unseen to science in the past, and thereby left to be exposed only through their sudden manifestations into the world, which so confounded Darwin. “But we seek to do far more here than simply solve scientific mysteries. Together we can harness the power and potential of genetic research to find new cures for disease and to limit debilitating illnesses. To make this human existence better, for all. Much like the study of philosophy, or history, or even religion, the true goal of all science lies in understanding the world, life, ourselves. Our nature, our creation. Understanding humankind in all of our infinite differences as well as in our shared humanity. “We are at our best when we remember that we are all human beings trying together to solve the common mystery of our shared existence. For that we need not be at odds but allies and partners in this common cause of life.” There was enthusiastic applause as Moira finished her remarks. “Damn.” “She’s good,” Scott agreed with Jean’s blunt, one word appraisal of Dr. MacTaggert’s public speaking skills. Jean nodded. “And that speech was done on the fly, with protestors on the doorstep.” Moira MacTaggert was one of those people whose reputation well preceded her. In Jean’s case, she had studied Dr. MacTaggert’s work extensively (at Hank McCoy’s recommendation) this past summer. It was still hard for Jean to wrap her head around the fact that – as a young graduate student at Oxford in the early 1960's – Moira had almost single-handedly broken the science revealing the genetic code for Homo superior mutation: the X Gene. MacTaggert and Xavier had been a step away from releasing their landmark work: The Emergence of Mutant Variants in Human DNA, when fate had intervened in the form of war and geopolitics. The looming threat of a quickly heating Cold War, in which both superpowers could seek to use mutants as super weapons against the other side, had chilled their enthusiasm for the thrill of their own scientific discovery. Jean now understood why Hank had hoped Moira might be convinced to return to the Xavier Institute. And she could easily see why Xavier wanted her presence to be felt here, at ESU, while the eyes of the whole world were trained upon news of the Human Genome Project. The university president seemed to agree as well. “Now you see why we’re offering Dr. MacTaggert a lecture spot!” President Lieber beamed, still applauding as he took the stage. Jean and Scott joined Xavier and Hank, who were awaiting Moira at the edge of the stage. “That speech was really impressive,” Jean offered, clearly inspired. “I’ll let you in on a secret, Jean,” Dr. MacTaggert told her. “Science is sometimes only half the work of scientists. If we can’t present our work to the public, as trustworthy and beneficial to their lives, then we’ve done little more than publish something doomed to sit upon a library shelf. So, as easy as it would be to bury ourselves in the lab, write off those people outside as ‘not our audience,’ we must keep reaching out to the close-minded, keep explaining ourselves to the stubborn and the confused. We may not convert or enlighten all of our critics, but in reaching out we make it less of a fight and more of a discussion. And so, more people may be willing to listen to what we have to say.” “Well said,” Hank concluded. “Very well said, indeed, Dr. MacTaggert,” Xavier offered with a proud smile.
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Outside the Brand Annex the protest was breaking up. Pensive and his group were bitter at having been taken off the air early. Gyrich was currently attempting to corral them, along with any curious bystanders he could find, into forming what he called a Concerned Students’ group. A means to build on tonight’s movement and carry it forward with plans for future actions. Off to the side, Cam and Tilby were having a heated discussion. “I thought you had a plan.” “I did. I got a good look at the glasses. I was on the verge of getting him to take the things off and let me see them up close. It was working perfectly; I had him on the ropes. Then that Jean Grey showed up and stopped me.” “Jean Grey of the infamous Human Genome Project, and another of that Westchester Gifted set,” Cameron mumbled resentfully. “So what? If your plan was working before she showed up, just do it again without her around.” “No go. I won’t be able to get that close to him again. I had to use Amanda and Meggan to help me distract him the first time. After Grey’s reaction, they’ll all be suspicious of me now. I’ll never get anywhere, asking more questions about his glasses; he’s already answered them.” “Some investigative reporter. You’re just giving up then?” “It’s a non-story, Cam. A lot of people have eye conditions. A lot of blind, or sight-impaired, people are neat the way he is. I don’t get why it bothers you so much. Even if he’s a weird roommate, what do you care? You’re practically rooming with Peter Gyrich full time now.” “I care because it’s not right!” He gave a wave toward the Brand Annex. “Just like all this Human Genome Project and cloning nonsense is not right, it’s not natural.” “You don’t really believe that Church of Humanity garbage? ‘Genetic research is a crime against God’s natural order.’ I thought they were just an easy way for you and Gyrich to get yourselves on television.” “What I believe doesn’t matter. Here’s what I know: A lot of people dislike Brand Corp., they don’t trust all this genetic research. And they don’t like a lot of the other ways ESU is changing. That’s not my opinion; Gyrich has polling to back it up. Challenging Brand’s presence on campus is a good wedge issue. By discrediting them we discredit people like this Jean Grey, and doing that kills two birds with one stone. We can prove that none of them belong here and their being here only causes trouble for the university.” He shrugged. “Eventually ESU will agree, and they’ll want to go back to the way things have always been. The right way.” Gyrich made his way over to them and handed a sheet of paper to Tilby. “Submit this to the Excelsior.” He glanced at Cam. “It’s a short list of priorities that Concerned Students wants to have addressed by the administration before we meet again.” Tilby looked over the page. “I am not your personal PR, Gyrich.” He ignored that complaint. “I’m giving you an exclusive scoop. You’re welcome.” Then he addressed Cameron. “The larger group has split off into small protests now. A few outside the president’s mansion. A handful more at popular campus landmarks.” Cam nodded. “That’ll make for good photo ops.” “Don’t be surprised if there’s a little property damage, some light vandalism overnight.” Tilby leveled a stare at Gyrich, who only shrugged helplessly. “Turns out, people are really mad about this Band Annex, and they want to make those thoughts known.” Cam laughed appreciatively. “You should print that quote, word for word,” he insisted to Tilby. Gyrich just smirked. “Wait to get a comment from the university until after the president sees picketers from his bedroom window.”
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Early the next morning Scott, Ororo, and Jean had packed their bags and boarded a Metro-North commuter train out of Grand Central Station for the ninety mile train ride north to Annandale-on-Hudson. At the end of their trip John Grey would be waiting to meet them at the Poughkeepsie Station and then they would be off to spend their Thanksgiving holiday weekend with the Greys. Ororo took a window seat, to better enjoy the scenic two hour train ride alongside the Hudson River, with Jean and Scott sitting opposite her. Scott settled in to read this morning’s papers’ accounts of last night’s Brand event. Tilby’s account for the Excelsior was splashy but fair. At least she got comments from Dr. Waren and quoted sections of Moira’s speech, in addition to multiple interviews with protestors outside. She also quoted an ESU public relations consultant for the Brand project. Fairly balanced coverage, overall. Scott handed his finished copy of the Excelsior over to Jean, and sighed heavily as he flipped through the Daily Bugle, finding only a collection of “both sides” talking points which served to equate the protestors with university officials, as though each party had equally valid opposing positions on the Brand Annex’s opening. Scott couldn’t help but remember S.J.’s lone directive from the night before in clear contrast as the Daily Bugle credited Cameron Hodge as a student protest organizer along with Henry Peter Gyrich. Both of them were later quoted verbatim, at length, allowing their opinions to be printed at face value. Elevating their unfounded claims against ESU and Brand Corp., as if those claims were factual news... just as Cameron wanted, and just as the Daily Bugle intended. Scott was about to set the paper aside when a familiar name caught his eye. The byline on the Bugle story read: by H. P. Gyrich Sr. “Great,” he muttered. “Nothing like substituting objective journalism for cheap nepotism.” “Well, what’s the damage?” Jean asked. “You don’t want to see it; it’s garbage.” “Of course it is,” she countered, taking the Daily Bugle from him, “but a lot of people are going to see and believe that garbage, so I might as well know what we’re up against.” Then Jean paused, noticing that Ororo was staring out the window, looking neither bothered by their conversation nor particularly interested in the scenery outside her window. Jean gave Ororo’s foot a nudge with her own. “So, are you going to see Emory again?” “As a matter of fact, we made plans for next weekend. I told him that I wanted to see Harlem and, since he has family there, he graciously offered to give me a tour.” “Ooo, that sounds exciting,” Jean said. “You were born in Harlem?” Scott remembered. “Yes. My father’s family lived there for several generations, as did I before my fifth birthday.” “Do you still have family there?” Jean asked. “I believe I still do, though they are family I’ve never properly met or, more precisely, family I was too young to properly remember before we moved to Cairo. I have not tried to make contact with them since my return to America, but I am very curious about them. Going back to Harlem is something I’ve wanted to do for a long time, I just never knew where to start.” “I’m sure we could help track down your father’s family, if you want help.” “Thank you, but, no. I think this is something I prefer to do alone.” “Alone with Emory.” Jean waggled her eyebrows. Ororo stuck her tongue out at Jean in response. Scott shook his head at them, but before he could go back to his reading Ororo spoke up. “Scott, I would like a word with you, about the protest. When we were outside, that gust of wind.” Scott nodded. “A bit risky; I wouldn’t have advised it,” he assessed, “but it worked,” he finished with a shrug. “That is precisely my concern. I came to the same conclusion. I considered that a gust of wind might push back the protestors–” Her voice lowered as she concluded, “I decided against.” Scott looked around them cautiously, then leaned in to speak more quietly. “You mean that wasn’t you?” “Not consciously. No.” Scott frowned. “When’s the last time that happened?” he asked, already strongly suspecting her answer. “Not since Kenya.” “Any new nightmares or trouble sleeping?” he asked next, thinking first of her encounter several months ago with Shadow King. Ororo shook her head. Scott looked at Jean next, who responded with a shake of her own head. The gesture both indicated that Jean sensed nothing amiss with Ororo’s thoughts, and also that Jean had experienced no similarly disturbing experiences. For now he gave Ororo a nod and a grim smile. “Let me know if anything like that happens again, both of you.” They each nodded. Ororo returned her attention to the scenery and Jean to her paper, leaving Scott to wonder what had happened. Was it truly an unconscious action, nothing more than momentary loss of control? Was it possible their skills were slipping after several months of atrophy, as Scott had feared they might before leaving the Institute? Or perhaps something more ominous? His first instinct had been Shadow King. At the very least, it could be some sort of delayed post-traumatic reaction from their encounter with Shadow King and D’Spayre. Scott thought of his own recent restlessness and poor sleep. Before now he’d thought it no more than everyday stress, the wear and tear of busy college life. Many of his own nightmares centered on loss of control, but then they always had. In combination with Ororo’s uncharacteristic loss of control, he now wondered if there might be something more to it. If their encounter with Shadow King and D’Spayre had taught him anything, it was that there were dangers out there the likes of which they hadn’t even thought of yet.