Nil Desperandum

7

‘Jubilee. Jubilee, wake up.’ I rubbed my face and encountered the dark, concerned eyes of Ororo.

‘What’s going on?’ I looked round at my room. Monet was not in her bed, and Rogue was sitting wide awake on hers, staring across the room at me, eyes wide.

‘Something’s happened. Scott wants you to be on the away team.’ I sprang out of bed, slipping my feet into my bedroom slippers.

‘What’s going on?’ I repeated, still half asleep.

‘We received a transmission—Scott received one—from a contact of his in Australia. There’s some kind of attack on a mutant community. From what we hear, it’s a gang of cyborg creatures, with very advanced technology. They sound almost exactly like what Logan described. Scott things Pierce is involved. You’ll be going with Kitty, Kurt, Betsy, and Hank.’

‘And Scott?’

‘Yes, of course Scott. And Logan. They should be in the hangar.’

‘And you?’

‘I’ll be staying here, for security. Hank is going with you to provide medical assistance if it is needed. From what Scott has told me, there may already be casualties.’ I watched her gather herself up regally, and she nodded to me. ‘Go on. Good luck.’

With one parting glance at Rogue, I hurried down to the lower levels and into the lockers. My uniform was hanging in its cubby, and as I tugged on the reinforced leather, I took deep, calming breaths. I’d been on missions before, even skirmished with what was left of the Brotherhood. I knew I could hold my own in any fight, but…something about this op bothered me. It came close on the heels of Logan’s attack, during which a woman from his mysterious past had recently been in contact with Scott, and now some unnamed source of Cyclops’ called in from Australia of all places and asked for help against the same kind of cyborg that attacked Logan? My groggy brain smelled a rat. I buckled my boots with a final snap, and activated all the groovy little tech gadgets hidden in the uniform—the GPS com-link attached to my belt, the earpiece that was in direct signal to Scott, and the backup weapons that Hank had insisted were added to the uniforms. They were simple and non-lethal. There was a tin of mace, a taser, and a slim-bladed knife, the blade about three inches long. I wondered whether Scott would’ve allowed for such means if the Professor had still been round.

I headed out to the hangar, and found Kitty and Kurt on the gangplank. Betsy was hovering a few feet above the ground in the lotus position, her eyes closed. I could sense someone, Hank, by the size of him, prepping things in the cockpit of the jet. ‘Where’s Fearless?’ I asked. ‘And Logan?’

‘Pre-op pissing contest, no doubt.’ Betsy’s eyes snapped open. ‘I did not sense you enter, Jubilee,’ she murmured, looked annoyed.

‘Sorry. So, does anyone know anything besides that robots are attacking mutants?’

‘From what I hear, zhe transmission came from a linen ranch in zhe Northern Territory.’ Kurt’s tail was swishing nervously, his brows knitted. ‘And zhe attack is being perpetrated by technologically enhanced humans who are calling zhemselves zhe Reavers.’

‘And Donald Pierce?’

Kitty shrugged. ‘Scott’s contact says that he’s their leader, but it sounds so strange. Apparently he’s a mutant who can fire bolts of concussive electricity. Why would he attack mutants?’

‘Let’s just toast his ass and ask questions later.’ I was waking up properly now, channelling my early morning pre-caffeine grouchiness into coiled fighting energy. ‘The only question is, when will our leading men arrive?’

My question proved timely, as the doors of the hangar slid open, and Scott came marching through. You could’ve set your watch his steps. Logan followed, shoulders squared, jaw set stubbornly. His eyes flicked over the small, motley assortment of rumpled, early morning faces. To his credit, he didn’t make any cracks about kids or little leagues.

We filed into the jet and strapped in. The takeoff was uniformly perfect, and once we were safely airborne and our course plotted, Scott switched on the autopilot and turned toward us. His hands were clasped. He exchanged a look with Hank, and took a deep breath.

‘I want to thank you all for coming.’ He said. ‘This is going to be a sensitive mission, and has the potential to be very dangerous. We are responding, as you all know, to a threat on a peaceful mutant community located about a hundred miles south of the Tanami Desert. It was attacked nearly an hour ago by what appear to be cyborgs.’ He cracked a dry smile, humourless and full of grim resolution. ‘We have reason to believe that Donald Pierce, who is himself known to be a mutant in select circles, has ordered this attack, and may himself be present. As he is a prominent media figure, we’d do well to avoid allowing our identities to be revealed.’ He reached into a nook and produced what looked like a shoe box, only it was made of ground plastic. He opened it. Several pieces of reinforced leather lay stacked within. ‘I’m not suggesting that I’m ashamed to be an X-Man or a mutant, but this is bigger than just us. If we’re identified, we can be traced back to the school.’ It was then that I realised that the small items were masks.

Each one had a paper label attached to it, with a name. I found mine. It was fitted to my skull, went over the head and came down to slant over the cheekbones, ending halfway down the face. There were small diamonds of mirrored glass, clear from the inside, over the eyes. Scott’s buckled down round his visor. I pulled mine on. It was snug, and surprisingly comfortable. No wonder Storm had chosen not to come on this mission. Her claustrophobia would never have allowed for a mask that restricting. I tugged it off, and, unbuckling myself from my chair, slid into the pilot’s seat.

‘How long till we reach our rendezvous point?’ I knew, theoretically, how to drive the jet. I’d logged hundreds of hours on the flight simulator, but I’d never actually flown the actual X-Jet. Scott leaned over my shoulder.

‘About three hours.’ I blinked. I knew the thing was fast, but that was crazy. To think that we could circumnavigate the entire globe in less than half a day was an incredible thought.

‘And are we meeting this contact of yours?’ he nodded, and I wanted to ask who it was, but there was something in the set of his jaw that prevented me from shooting off my mouth.

‘Get some more rest, Jubilee. There’s food in the back. Some rations and juice.’

‘You need anything?’ I asked softly. He shook his head. I decided to leave well enough alone. I found Psylocke in the back, looking through the cupboards in the storage bay. ‘Hey, Betts.’

‘Jubilee.’ She looked solemn. I was unaccustomed to seeing her so serious. She was a cheerful girl, in the uncomprehending way of perfectly sculpted beauties, but now her violet eyes were stormy. ‘How do you feel about this mission?’ her voice was low, concerned.

‘I don’t know what to think of it.’ I watched her expression go smooth and hard with annoyance. She probably thought I was thick. The fact that her recently-ex boyfriend was now after me wasn’t helping, either. ‘But I can tell you that he’s hiding something.’ Her eyes snagged on mine with almost physical pressure.

‘You’re not an idiot.’

‘You don’t have to sound so surprised.’ I found a box of crunchy bars, and cartons of juice. ‘It’s not like him, but I trust him. Scott’s not going to sell us down river.’

‘Scott?’ she turned, surprised. ‘I meant Wolverine.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘What do you know?’

‘Not a lot. But there’s something I’m guessing.’ I held up a hand. Someone was moving toward us from the flight deck. I could feel the shifting heat. The door opened, and Kurt stuck his head through.

‘Are zhere any peanuts? Herr Logan appears to be having a little trouble mit zhe flying.’

I exchanged another look with Betsy, and tossed a breakfast bar over. Kurt snatched it out of the air and disappeared. ‘Well?’ she inquired, a brow raised.

‘Like I said, I don’t know anything.’ I pushed past her, and settled back into my seat for a couple more moments of rest.

The remainder of the flight was unremarkable. Smooth sailing all the way. I’ll say this, though. I have never met a champion complainer more whingey than Logan. Maybe he meant what he was saying, and maybe he was just trying to get under Scott’s skin, but oh, my God, he was annoying. Every air pocket, every dodge and weave, every little dip, and he groused and snarled, until even mild-mannered Kity gave him a glare and told him to stop acting like a two-year-old. He, of course, gave her a look that would’ve peeled paint, but he did, in fact, shut up. Even if he did cross his arms over his chest and pout.

I fell asleep intermittently, and when we arrived, I was out like a burnt bulb. It was Logan who woke me. The jet had landed, and was empty. ‘Come on, let’s go. We’re meeting Cyclops’ asset.’ I followed him, rubbing the sleep from my eyes and wondering whether I should think about putting on my mask, when we stepped out into a heavy, honey-coloured light. My brain filtered the calculations, and I arrived at the conclusion that the sun must just be setting. The local time was about seven in the evening. At the end of the gangway stood the rest of the team, and a tall, slim young man with short blond hair and a shiny, well-scrubbed face, with an arm slung round Scott’s shoulders. About a billion and a half things fitted neatly into place, and locked.

‘Jubilee,’ Scott called, catching sight of me.

‘Yes, sir?’ When I was in uniform, I was a soldier. I don’t know any other way to be.

‘This is Alex.’ I stepped smartly forward, and accepted the stranger’s handshake. ‘Alex, Jubilee.’

‘Mr. Summers.’ I said in greeting. Scott’s lips tightened, and the blond man’s face split into a grin.

‘Nice to meet you. You’re a smart girl.’

’Oh, fuck you,’ I thought balefully. ’Don’t fucking condescend to me.’ ‘Where’s the fire, Cyclops?’

‘Come on in,’ Alex Summers said, motioning to the house we’d landed beside, still smiling. ‘I’ll debrief you.’

We followed him into the house. It was an old-fashioned cabin, built of wooden boards, and filled with rock samples, local crafts, and papers. It looked like the superest of super-villains of paperwork had descended on every available surface. ‘Alex is an archaeologist.’ Scott explained. Kurt, Kitty, and Betsy were being very quiet, but they didn’t look any happier than I felt. We’d been rushed out of the mansion in the wee hours for a Summers family reunion? Fuck that shit.

‘What about Pierce?’ I said, quietly but firmly. Everyone turned round. ‘What about the Reavers? What about this mutant colony? What happened?’ I felt a hand touch my shoulder. By the blur of blue in my peripheral vision, I could tell that it was Hank.

Alex faced me. His eyes were hard, glass-glinting blue. So. He wasn’t some pansy-assed time waster. Fair enough. ‘I knew you wouldn’t be here for a few hours. I didn’t call you to save the ranch. Lorna and I…we did what we could, but we couldn’t follow the Reavers, we were too preoccupied with helping the mutants to escape. Those we saved are here, in the cellar, with their leader. I have a fair idea of where the Reavers are based, though, and I think they might be planning something else. Something big. That’s why we called you.’ Hmph. At least he didn’t say, ‘That’s why I called Scott.’ I still didn’t like his shiny clean face and his cold eyes. The dichotomy was unnerving.

‘Who’s Lorna?’ I asked, still determined to get as in his face as I could.

‘My girlfriend. She has magnetic powers. Nothing near as powerful as Magneto, but she’s useful.’ He grinned at me. It didn’t touch his eyes for a moment. I nodded.

‘Do your charges perhaps require medical attention?’ Hank asked.

‘Oh. Yeah. Go on down.’ Alex gave Hank directions, and I was about to follow him. I’m pre-med, and I’m good at it, but Hank shook his head marginally.

‘I will ask for your assistance if I need it.’ he whispered. It was a proper whisper, the sort designed not to allow anyone else to hear it. I balked. ‘Please. You are here for a reason. Stay.’

I opened my mouth to make another smartass comment, but the low urgency in his tone made me pause. I nodded and turned back. Alex was leaning over a map spread out on a table. It looked like a physical view, probably of about fifty kilometres in every direction. We were sitting in a basin of land, surrounded by intermittent rocky hills. There was one outcropping, in particular, that Alex and Scott were studying. Kitty was looking at the map with interested, and Kurt was watching me steadily, but Betsy looked…well, she didn’t look well. Her brows were knit, and she was leaning almost imperceptibly on Kurt’s arm. Logan was standing behind me, I could feel him, solid, his arms crossed, the baleful inferno of ash at the end of his cigar.

‘This,’ Alex pointed to a smudge that looked like something had been burnt to the ground, ‘was the Open House. That’s what they called it. The ranch itself is called Brugballa Paddock.’ His finger traced a dark, spindling avenue. ‘This is Brugballa Creek. In the rainy season, anyhow. Right now, it’s just a mud bank. This,’ his finger tapped a grouping of huge rocks about five miles distant, ‘is Warrawong Rock. I think that’s where we’ll find the Reavers.’

‘Wait.’ I said, after a moment of silence, wondering how much I should be saying to him, ‘these are satellite photos. They’re recent, too. How are you getting these?’

‘Like my big bro said, I’m an archaeologist. I’m here on a government sponsored dig. They thought I would benefit from access to a research satellite. Turns out, it helped Lorna and me save a lot of lives.’ Geez, that sounded sincere. Maybe I was just picking up an asshole vibe, and being paranoid, but…

‘It’s a good feed.’ I said, and looked at Scott. He was watching me narrowly, and I could’ve sworn that his head moved fractionally once, to look behind me at Logan. ‘Why do you think the Reavers are there?’ I prompted. Scott smiled. Damn it. He was letting me do this. Why? Was this his idea of a field exercise? A test? Was he just enjoying watching me have a pissing match with his little brother? Why wasn’t he doing this, instead of standing there with a smug grin on his face?

‘It’d make sense.’ Alex’s voice startled my focus back to the map. ‘They headed back that way, for one. And it’s a great vantage point. Probably some sort of cave network under it. you find a lot of caves here. I understand that the river used to flow through this valley.’ He looked up at Scott. ‘She your lieutenant, then?’ he laughed that condescending laugh that scraped wet fingernails across my raw nerves.

‘We’re civilians, Alex. We don’t have ranks.’ Scott’s tone was bland. Alex grinned again. It was weird. There was all kind of emotional subtext going on between them, but in a weird Summers way that won’t bat an eyelash in the face of a grinning Goddamned tiger.

‘Right. My bad. Anyhow, to cut to the chase, the Reavers were looking for something. If all they wanted to do was to burn down a mutant community, we wouldn’t have had a breath of warning. They’ve been here for nearly a week, reconnoitring. I think they wanted one of the mutants there.’ He grinned again. ‘Well, Lorna thinks.’ He glanced from Scott to me, then back. ‘What do you say we pull the old white knight hat trick?’

‘Have you found out whether they took any mutants from the ranch?’ Scott stood up straight, still not looking directly at his brother. Alex shook his head.

‘Nope. That’s why I asked for a telepath. The mutants down in the cellar are pretty shaken up—we’re gonna need someone to calm them down enough so we can talk to them. Lorna is securing our perimeter so that we’ll be informed if any Reavers come near.’

‘Electromagnetic field?’ Scott asked, nodded approvingly.

‘It’s the old tricks that work.’ Alex pushed back from the table.

‘So, what, we break into their caves, figure out what they wanted, prod some buttocks, and what?’ I said, glancing at Betsy. Like Jean, she was a combo psi, both telepath and telekine. Her telekinesis was powerful, and her telepathy only marginal, but unfortunately she couldn’t lift a teacup without smashing it, and if anyone shielded hard enough, she couldn’t pick them up on the astral plane. Still, she looked composed enough, and I think she was confident that she could summon enough psionic power to calm a group of people.

‘We close up shop, find out what Pierce is up to, and stop him.’ Alex retorted. ‘It’s what the X-Men do, isn’t it? Protecting those that hate and fear them?’ the derisive quality to his voice was concealed by something not thick enough to satisfy a pole dancer.

‘Alex,’ all right, now there was a warning tone in Scott’s voice.

‘What? I called you because that’s what’s needed here. I know I’m not gonna keep mutants here safe by being a good, quiet archaeologist and digging round. Pierce is up to something. He has a plan.’

‘No idea what it is?’ Scott’s tone had gone idle again, deceptively casual. He might’ve been discussing the weather.

‘We’ll probably get some hints if we figure out who he’s taken. The Reavers got away with some prisoners.’

‘All right. We’ll interview the survivors.’ Scott said, trying to sound reluctant.

It turned out that the residents of Brugballa Paddock were more shaken than anything. There were some burns and scrapes, but no traumatic wounds. A few had sustained cracked ribs or a broken wrist, but apparently that was more a product of the stampede to escape from the Reavers than the result of any direct attack. It turned out that there were nearly thirty mutants in the cellar, most with the kind of mutations that wouldn’t have been any traditional defence against attack. They weren’t all Australian, either. There was one young South African boy with pale blue skin and a pair of giant maggot-like creatures wrapped round his shoulders. He was idly feeding them stones and scrap metal. Another, Canadian by the sound of him, probably from Newfoundland, absorbed water so readily that even in this arid heat, he had little water-filled blisters all over his skin. I wondered what kind of time he’d have in the rainy season. Another woman, Eastern European, was so light and slim that the intermittent breeze shifted her round. Their leader appeared to be a tall redheaded girl, rangy and rope-muscled, with a thatch of fiery red hair and starburst eyes that glittered gold. She was maybe fifteen.

Her name was Rikenna Dusk, she said, and Brugballa Paddock was hers. Apparently her family, wealthy cattle ranchers, had sent her out to Brugballa, one of their more remote holdings, when it had come to light that she was a mutant. She was a fireball, independent and plucky, and capable, or so she said, of ‘running me own bloody ranch, strewth.’ Somehow, over the course of less than a year, she had turned twenty acres of flax farmland into a haven for mutants. It was literally self-sustaining, and her parents supported her from a distance, working quietly to champion mutant rights in their own subtle way.

And that was where Donald Pierce had come in. He’d met the Dusks at a fundraiser in Canberra, and, slowly gaining their confidence, had learnt about the mutant safehaven of Open Home. Rikenna’s eyes flashed as she spoke about meeting him. He’d visited the ranch once, too. Said he wanted to witness paradise before sinking any money into it. ‘My parents are good people,’ she said, ‘That Pierce bastard…he ain’t. Him got eyes like a vulture. Carrion-feeding bastard.’ She spat on the ground. ‘Goddem bastard took old man Gateway, I’m sure of it. Demmed’f I know what for.’

Gateway, it turned out, was a sort of aborigine shaman. No, Rikenna didn’t know whether he was a mutant. He’d worked for her family since before she was born, off and on. Probably since before her father was born. No, she didn’t know if he had another name. he knew everything. No, she didn’t know why Pierce was so interested, hadn’t she said already?

As a leader, she was competent. She knew where her people were, even the ones that had escaped into the bush. Three mutants had been killed by the Reavers in the initial attack. After that, they’d just blundered through, setting fires and punching the lights out of anyone foolish enough to try any heroics. They’d grabbed Gateway, who had been standing in the midst of the building, waiting calmly. Rikenna had been fighting, though she didn’t exactly put it that way. The words she used were more colourful. Like her knuckles, and the bruise on her jaw. And the blood on her scalp. And then they’d taken him, just like that. Grabbed him, and left Brugballa to burn.

‘Boy here showed up, and his lady. Helped us get out. Blasted a hole in the building, and she held it open with metal barriers, so it wouldn’t collapse. Like a bad movie, only it was happening to my people.’ I couldn’t help but raise a brow at the way she called Alex, a man a decade her senior, ‘boy.’

Lorna showed up just as Scott began discussing with Rikenna what she planned to do about her people, as they called themselves. If there was ever an argument for the superiority of mutants, Lorna Dane was it. Tall and gorgeous, with dangerously lush curves that nevertheless managed to be streamlined and effortlessly muscular, she had flowing green hair and eyes, and the kind of features that are so beautiful it’s hard to look directly at them.

Scott and Hank seemed to know her quite well, and she embraced them warmly, ignoring the rest of us like we didn’t exist. I got the feeling that this had more to do with the X on our uniforms than any actual snobbery on her part, though there was a fair deal of that, too.

‘Are we going to take those things on, or what?’ she grinned in a way that was almost exactly the opposite of Alex. If his smile was fixed and expressionless, she radiated a kind of frenetic passion that is more readily observable in people wearing very tight white jackets with very tight straps and buckles.

‘We’re planning to.’ Scott replied, and turned to me. ‘Jubilee, I want you and Logan to recon first. We’ll drive you over to the caves. The sun’s set, so it’ll be under cover of darkness. All you’re going to need to do is count heat signatures and report. No fireworks, no heroics. No claws.’ He looked over my head, directly at Logan, who shrugged. He’d sort of faded into the background since we’d landed.

‘You got it, One-Eye.’ He saluted lazily.

‘Whoa. Wait.’ I held up a hand. ‘If you want me to do recon, count heartbeats or whatever, why don’t you send me with Kitty? Or Betsy, who can count mental signatures?’

‘We don’t need you infiltrating the caves yet, and I’m not even sure the Reavers have mental signatures. Wolverine can protect you if you’re detected.’

‘But—’

‘The jeep is out back. I’ll meet you there in five. I just need to have a word with Hank.’

I swallowed the last of my protests, squared my shoulders. Wolverine followed me to the jeep in the back, or the skeleton of one. It was bare bones, a couple of benches and an uncovered frame. To my surprise, it was Lorna who showed up to drive us, Alex and Scott in two. The brothers were pointedly not facing one another, in the stone-faced way I’d come to recognise already as their way of arguing. ‘Cyclops—’ I began, but he turned my way and I shut up.

‘We’re going to follow you by about twenty minutes. You figure out how many we’re going to be up against and contact me. We’re going to make this as quiet as possible.’

‘Because if Pierce sees too many uniforms with an X on them, how slow is he gonna be figuring out where you’ve come from?’ Alex snarked, not to me. ‘And because for some reason, all the American media had a swarm of footage of some crazy vigilante mutants running around in black leather uniforms. What a coincidence.’

‘Shut up, Summers.’ To my surprise, the voice that growled these words was not Wolverine’s. Too feminine. Oh. Shit. Must’ve been me. Both Scott and Alex turned to look my way. ‘Let’s do the op and go home. I have a hot date Wednesday night, okay?’ I pulled my mask down over my face, and climbed into the jeep. Logan still hadn’t said a word.

We drove across the bumpy scrubland for something like half an hour, stopped about half a mile from the dark, looming shadow that was Warrawong Rock. ‘I’m sure you’ll manage from here,’ Lorna said. ‘Remember. Body count. No alarms, please.’

I nodded. The jeep turned and accelerated away in a haze of dust. I turned to Logan. ‘Come on.’

We walked in silence toward the rock, and I focused on everything but how open the land was. Nothing to hide in, nothing to camouflage with. Fuck. Even in the dark, it was unnerving, and felt ballsy as hell. ‘So. Any reason Cyke’s treatin’ you like a grunt after lettin’ you take the wheel talking about satellites and strategy?’ Logan asked.

‘Cause he’s an asshole,’ I replied blithely, my system jangling for coffee.

‘You gotta better idea than that. I’ve been watching you. You ain’t an idiot, that I know. And Cyke’s keyed into that, for all that he is, in fact, an asshole. He asked for you first when he got this call, and he’s been singling you out since we got here. What’s going on?’

‘I don’t know. I think he’s using me to wind his brother up. To make all the statements he can’t be bothered to.’

‘Oh, yeah? Any idea what those might be?’

‘Just a wild guess, but I figure it has something to do with…’ I shook my head. The heat and lack of caffeine were getting to me. Well, okay, maybe just the lack of caffeine. ‘I don’t think Alex approves of the X-Men. I think Scott’s trying to say that he’s not the only one who believes in genetic co-existence. That there’s a whole ‘nother generation of idealistic saps.’

‘Like you.’

‘Yeah.’ I chuckled mirthlessly. ‘Like me.’ We came to the base of the rock. It was just that. A big honking rock. The end. But…we stalked round to a cover of brushwood and a couple anaemic-looking trees. I hunkered down. ‘Here.’ I said. ‘There are…people—‘ for lack of a better word ‘—moving round inside. I need to concentrate.’ I heard the snikt of his claws coming free of their housings as I closed my eyes and extended myself. I could feel the shimmering tendrils of heat, coiling, pulsing, all the wrong way. I gagged. ‘They’re…God…they’re awful. All wrong. The heat is all wrong.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I’ve never felt anything like it. they’re only just animate. They…the machine parts absorb the heat until everything that’s meat is only just meat. Like that tracker you brought in. It’s like the bodies are producing heat, and the tech just leeches it away.’

‘How many?’ Logan asked. I paused, concentrated hard.

‘Not many. More than a dozen. Fifteen. And a human. A man, I think. Probably Pierce.’

‘How can you tell it ain’t this Gateway character?’

I shook my head. ‘He must’ve escaped. The man in there is pacing an awful lot. Shoving the others. And he’s…younger, I think. That’s their boss, for damned sure. Gateway’s not in there. Matter of fact, that’s probably what Pierce is throwing a fit about.’ I reached down to my belt and flicked a few buttons. ‘Cyclops? This is Jubilee, over.’

‘Cyclops, over.’ Scott’s voice came from my earpiece, chillingly clear.

‘I have fifteen Reavers, one human. No sign of Gateway, over.’

‘Roger. We’re on our way. Sit tight. Over and out.’

I sighed and leant back against the rock. ‘Kay. Siddown, Wolvie. You’re making me nervous with all that pacing.’ Making more noise than we needed, too.

‘Something’s not right.’ He was tense, alert. I had the mental image of a hunting dog, pointing with its tail, running back and forth and whining.

I focused back on the heat signatures surrounding us, and leapt to my feet. ‘Ah, crap.’ Of all the places, of all the times.

The Reaver clicked out into the night, out of nowhere, and I got my first good look at one of Pierce’s monsters. Monsters they were, too, and this one…this one was ugly. It was like a human torso stuck on the body of a giant steel spider. His face was crossed by sparking wires, implanted diodes, and a mess of scar tissue. He leered over me, and raised his foremost legs. They had lots and lots of blades at the ends, which whirred like a blender.

I didn’t give myself time to worry about being made into salsa. I threw myself out of the way and delivered a series of paffs strong enough to take any man down, heard Wolverine roar as I hit the ground and rolled. When I got my bearings again, there were three more Reavers, and I could feel another group heading toward us. I summoned up stronger plasmoids, threw them hard. I heard Wolverine snarling and cursing. My heart raced. Blades and energy beams and a hail of bullets, and I dodged and weaved and leapt and kicked, adrenaline speeding through me. Oh God, so many. I didn’t have time to activate the com-link, as I felt bone crunch beneath my boot, detonated faster, as fast as I could. I moved in a blur, my mind had very little to do with what I was doing. Thank you, Scott, for all those endurance drills. Wolverine was tearing a swathe of destruction through the Reavers, and between us, maybe, just maybe, we could hold out till the cavalry arrived.

A hand closed round my ankle, and I looked down reflexively. It wasn’t a metal tentacle or horribly modified mockery of flesh, but a human hand. A blindingly white smile in a face like a wizened potato gleamed up at me, and the universe opened beneath me.

I fell, and fell, and fell.