Subject: [magneto] Part 3 Date: Fri, 14 Jan 2000 20:55:38 +0800 From: "anyasy" Reply-To: magneto@egroups.com To: "magneto" Part 3 Ake vriama, usti Rom akana, Men khutasa misto kai kerasa A Romale, A Chavale Magda had rather reluctantly agreed to 'fly', and even more reluctantly when she realized what Erik meant by the term. Before leaving, she made a surprise present of her blue roan to Miarka, as well as the cards, taking the child aside and whispering to her for a moment, then patting her head and walking rather sullenly back to Erik. Erik noted with dismay that Rom was coming with them. For Magda's sake, they'd start flying only after they walked out of sight of the village, so they left into the forest, leaving Revjak watching with a benevolent smile and Miarka clutching the cards in one hand and the reins of the slightly traumatized blue roan in the other. She held his hand gingerly when they rose up, then more tightly when she somehow realized that they were several hundred feet above the ground. Erik took to the cover of the clouds, finally breaking out over the fleecy white shapes, that effectively covered them from any trigger-happy 'Hawks' that might be left. Admittedly, it also covered any view that they might have had of the ground, but Erik trusted in electromagnetic navigation. Like a shark, he could find his way around most of the globe with his eyes glued shut. Some disturbance or other a year or so ago when he'd gone into hiding had prevented the X-men or other "evil-mutant" hunters from disturbing him, and though he was vaguely interested to find out what it was, he was quite happy with it. He'd spent the years setting up 'magnetic landmarks' on specific places on the globe, permanent fluctuations by Yours Truly, each unique. For example, the landmark for Paris were several cunning weaves around the Eiffel Tower, so if he wanted to go there he would simply locate the fluctuation and fly straight for it. It did take less effort than attempting to read the entire magnetic field at one go, and since people always insisted that large flashing flying objects were UFOs, he'd never had any problems. Right now, he was heading for one of his 'hiding places' in a small insignificant town somewhere in Europe's vast 'countryside' areas. Non-specific, of course - he'd never even bothered to learn which country it was in, such that it wouldn't be pried out of his mind by any good, snooping telepaths. Magda had temporarily forgotten about him, and the cat was looking around disdainfully. Erik felt a small stab of pride that she was not afraid of heights at all - being blind usually stimulated the emotions, especially terror, because not being able to see what was happening usually added to unknowns. "It's beautiful," Magda whispered. Erik blinked. "How can you see it?" Magda flinched, then deliberately ignored the question. Erik's irritation at being ignored was quickly overcome by the intoxicating wildflower scent of her hair. He lowered his head closer, and Rom abruptly turned its startling green eyes to his, and bared sharp teeth in a soundless snarl of warning. Honestly, the cat was worse than a...chaperone. And probably a related, fat, female chaperone at that - Erik dimly remembered that that was how it was done in his childhood days, which was why a large patch of peaceful woods close by was always rather convenient. "Any idea why you're being hunted?" she asked suddenly. Erik snapped out of imagining several ways to get rid of Rom quietly. "Eh? Oh. Well, there are several reasons why humans..." Magda made a small, throaty growl, and he hastily corrected the word, "That is, people, would like to get rid of me personally. Though hardly any would match why they'd like to get rid of me secretly and not as publicly as possible." "Any general reasons?" she inquired. "Sometimes being one of the most powerful mutants in the world does it," Erik shrugged. "If that is the reason, I would suspect that Charles Xavier..." "Professor Xavier?" Magda interrupted, with a curious tinge in her voice. "Why yes," Erik said, surprised, "Do you know him?" "I know of him," Magda corrected, "Some from the tribe with these 'special gifts' have spoken of him as a kind, intelligent man, though sadly crippled." Erik muttered something about Xavier's intelligence that made Magda grin impishly. "I see you know him as well?" "He was a friend once," Erik said, "And also an enemy after. Now we're both not sure which we are. Xavier is the sort of person to whom things happen. Often very odd things, like a Sh - alien, that is, royalty just 'happening' to fall in love with him, and so saving his life several times..." His voice trailed off what he realized Magda was shaking with silent laughter. "Did I say something funny?" he inquired, feeling annoyed. "Alien royalty?" Magda said incredulously. "Erik, have you been drinking?" "It's true," Erik said defensively, then realized how stupid it must have sounded to someone who had spent most of her life solidly on Earth and inside a wagon. She'd never seen how beautiful their planet looked from a window in space, or how easily one moved in its dark vacuum, and she probably never would. "I'm sure it is," Magda said in a patronizing voice that he would have taken umbrage at had it come from another person. As it was, he subsided. Logic and common sense told him not to speak about anything out of the 'ordinary' to her until she could see...that is, experience it firsthand. "What about Professor Xavier?" "He is one of the world's most powerful telepaths," Erik said cautiously, "His power is like Miarka's, but much stronger." "Ah," Magda said. She paused. "Where are we going?" Erik smiled. "Someplace where they may have to look several days at least to locate us. Long enough." "To what?" Magda asked curiously. "Are we going to run from place to place for the rest of our lives?" Erik felt ridiculously pleased that she had said 'we', instead of 'you'. Come to think of it, she didn't sound as irritable now as she had earlier in the camp. "We are not," he said firmly, "Merely long enough to acquire sufficient data to devise a way to destroy them." Madga sighed. "What else could I do?" Erik inquired. "Ask them nicely to leave me alone?" "It's got to be worth a try," Magda said seriously, then laughed when Erik choked. "Walk up to them to ask?" Erik said, "I'd be shot down before I make two yards." Magda chuckled. "How long will we...fly?" she asked. Erik watched the clouds float sluggishly behind them. "At this speed," he mused, "A few hours." "Near, is it?" Magda said. "Not exactly," Erik replied. There wasn't much use in frightening her. The place was well away from where they were presently, actually. "In other words," Magda said with a wry smile, "It is very far away but you do not want to tell me how you are going to do it." Erik blinked. "People only use 'not exactly' when the answer is not what they believe the other wishes to hear," Magda remarked. "I bow to your superior knowledge," Erik said with a mocking grin, "You should have studied psychology." "I understand people," Magda shrugged, "You best of all, perhaps." Erik wondered briefly if it was an insult, and decided to push it aside in his mind. "Your cat does not seem to like me," he commented. Rom looked up at the word 'cat' and bared its teeth again. Magda stroked Rom with caressing fingers, and he felt a stab of jealousy, which he carefully suppressed. It was only a cat, for the gods' sake. "Rom does not like anyone except Revjak and myself," she said, "Not even the children dare to go near him, or throw stones." "Could that change?" Erik suggested. If she wanted to live with the terrible creature, he could learn to as well. "No," Magda smiled, "I seriously doubt it would. Rom seems to particularly dislike you for some reason." "I don't get along well with animals," Erik shrugged. "Perhaps that is it," Magda said enigmatically. She paused. "Can we go faster?" "Why?" Erik asked. "I like to walk," Magda said caustically. "Very well," Erik said, gathering weaves of magnetic energy behind him, building up a specific fluctuation in the magnetic field of the earth that abruptly lashed out to propel them forward. ** Erik touched down in the windshadow part of a quiet hill, after having 'looked' around to try and spot anyone around. He nodded to himself and reluctantly unfolded his hands from Magda's waist. Rom leaped down and stretched, yawning, and then started to rub around Magda 's ankles, purring like a noisy speedboat motor. "It's just over the hill," Erik said. Magda nodded, and Rom started padding up the side of the road up the hill, tail flicking. Occasionally he would swipe at a butterfly. Erik guided Magda up, even though she protested several times. However, when he pressed her as to how she could find her way in an unfamiliar place, she shut up and allowed him to lead. Inwardly he sighed. Getting information out of Magda when she was feeling stubborn was even harder than attempting to argue with her. Come to think of it, he'd never actually won an argument that she had set her mind on. And actually winning had its drawbacks, since he would never be sure if she intended him to win in the first place such that she would have her own way in another. The top of the hill offered a picturesque view of the small town. There was a small pub near the small main street, with several clusters of houses with proud hedges. There was a town square where several travelling stalls had set up for the week, and several stores near them. "I'd like a new dress," Magda said. Erik nodded, then irritably wondered how she'd seen the respectable clothes shop huddled next to the general store and the more impressive bank, which he would visit later. The tallest building in the area was four storeys high - service apartments. They were a severe white, with a roof that tried and failed to be cheerful by having blue tiles. Wisteria and ivy climbed up to sit on the roof. Someone with a passion for flowers had grown several motley bushes around the sides of the house, though a lack of color sense had produced a riot of bright and often glaring blooms that clashed with each other. "Where are we staying?" Magda asked. "The apartments," Erik replied, "I purchased one a year ago. The place has a practical 'no questions asked' policy, and is rather popular with visitors at some times of the year." "Though not now?" Magda smiled. "Not now," Erik agreed. They walked down into the town, the few residents outside in the heat of the afternoon but sparing them a brief glance before scurrying for shade. The tall, old trees that grew randomly at the edges of the road seemed drooping and tired, and even the birds had stopped their singing. Erik was rather relieved when they entered the air-conditioned lobby of the service apartment. The receptionist looked up at them through horn-rimmed glasses, then at the cat in disapproval. The walls were oak-paneled, and the windows fitted with two panes of glass for insulation in the winter. Their feet sank into soft, tasteful carpet, which had obviously not been chosen by the flower enthusiast. There were several comfortable looking chairs next to a newspaper rack. The receptionist sat at a neat table with several stacks of paper and the ever-present telephone. On the wall behind her was a large portrait of a medieval griffin and a unicorn, two flamboyant symbols that seemed out of place in the unassuming room. The other paintings in the room were as normal as the furniture, still life by a passable watercolorist. There were several potted plants, which looked synthetic. "May I help you?" the receptionist, with effort, forced the bored expression from her face into a grin. "I have a room here," Erik began, when a door in to the kitchen burst open to reveal a short, fat woman with keen gray eyes, still in an apron which suggested that she had been cooking when they had arrived. The woman smiled at them and cocked her head to the side, tapping her nose. "You must be...you must be Magnus, is it not?" she grinned infectiously, "I have a good head for names! You must be hungry from your travels...Miz Jean, give him his keys...I'd cook something for you. A lady friend, Magnus?" Magda flushed, and the fat woman clapped her hands in glee. "Indeed so! A late lunch for two, then...and I doubt you be needing an extra bed in the room." She winked at Erik, who also flushed from embarrassment, though not anger. Leane was the landlady of the apartments, flamboyant, always laughing, always one for embarrassing advice. It was very difficult to get angry with her, and she had a deft hand with cooking and managing the apartments at the same time. Her husband was a dour fellow who minded the pub, a boring, thin, stretched-looking man with rheumy eyes. Erik often avoided him as much as possible - there was something about the man he didn't like. Maybe it was just that irritating habit of clearing his throat every few seconds, or the stuttering stammer, or the reproachful gaze he gave you everytime you went into a few meter's radius of him. "They have a cat..." Jean tried. Leane turned her bubbling attention to Rom, who looked faintly taken aback at her interest. "And what a beauty he is!" Leane cried, "Is he Persian?" "Rom is just a cat," Magda began. "We'd see about giving him milk then," Leane said decisively, then looked steadily at Magda's eyes, before winking at Erik again. "Mind you lead her up the stairs carefully, Magnus. The lady can't see very well, but I'd tell you this," she smiled at Magda, "You've got a good catch." Before Magda could open her mouth to retort, Leane had bustled off into the kitchen. Rom looked at Magda curiously then seemed to make up his mind, padding after Leane. Jeane unearthed a record book and the keys, then gave them to Erik before ignoring them again. As they walked up the stairs, Erik turned to Magda. "I must apologize for Leane's behavior," he said, "It often shocks people not used to it." "You're used to it?" Magda smiled as Erik began to splutter. "I find it refreshing." "Really," Erik sighed. The stairs were carpeted, and he was beginning to feel slightly guilty about rubbing off the residue of running through a mile or so of forest on them. He led Magda out onto the third floor, to a place that was not expensive enough to cause speculation in the town. Fourth floor apartments were believed widely to be taken by rich people, and Erik wanted to give a view of a well-to-do, normal person that came occasionally for holidays. When they came to the door at the end of the passageway, Erik looked around to see that no one was hiding, then looked steadily at the doorknob. It clicked open, and he grinned. There was no harm in a bit of practice, and Magda hadn't seemed to have noticed anything... "What did you do to the lock?" she asked curiously, "I didn't feel your arm move." "I opened it," Erik said blandly, turning the knob and helping her into the room before closing it, then this time put out his hand to push in the bolt. With an afterthought, he joined the bolt to the holder with a flick out his mind. They were in a small living room, with a four-seater dining table at one side, and a small sofa in front of an ancient-looking television set. The tape recorder underneath it had already packed up and gone long time ago, the blinking light no longer there. Pictures were hung tastefully around the room, though the abstract art often gave Erik a headache. The room led to a bedroom that had a comfortable bed, a plain wardrobe and dressing table, and also to a spare room that the owner could do up himself. Erik had equipped that room with a good computer, and several books. Metal boxes whose lids had been joined together were underneath the computer, labeled 'Parts', actually contained several canned foodstuffs, enough for a week or so. The window in the living room looked out over the endless country, and Magda had somehow groped her way over there, leaning out with unseeing eyes. "And what are we to do now?" she asked quietly. Erik didn't answer. He closed his eyes and felt out every bit of metal in the room, probing for listening devices or hidden cameras before opening them and replying, "Take a rest. I'd be using the computer." Magda looked at him patiently. "Oh." He said. She held out her hand graciously and he took her to the doorway of the bedroom before going into the 'study', as he called it, to log on. Several minutes and various curses later, he was inside a database. It is quite easy to 'hack' when you have magnetic powers. ** Magda sat down on the bed and removed her shoes before curling up to simulate sleeping. She thought well in the blank space that would come to her...yes. Part of her felt like staying angry with Erik, but she was not the type that held long grudges. Some long grudges, at least - if she saw Hitler today she'd be one of the first to reach for a weapon. Or any of the Nazis. She admitted to herself that she wasn't angry with him anymore. She still didn't really trust him, especially as to whether he was still completely sane, or what he did. Obviously it took quite a bit of doing to anger some organization enough for said organization to send assassins. However, she had to obey the rules of her adopted tribe, even though she was probably goodness knows how many miles from it already. She would stay with him, until...until whatever happened. Rom didn't like the idea, but Rom was not bound by any rules except his own. Cats were often like that - if they accepted any rule of yours, it was probably because of some ulterior motive. Erik did seem more attentive when the cat was around, though. She grinned to herself, and called for it in her spirit. ** Rom watched from the top of a table as Leane poured milk into a saucer, having watched too many pour-into-saucer cartoons. Cheerfully, she placed it in front of him. "What, no purr?" she smiled. Rom stared at her, then lowered his head to drink, as if he was doing her a favor by drinking. "A bad pussy," Leane scolded. "Thin pussy. I wonder if your mistress treats you well?" Rom ignored her. Leane then saw that Rom was not skinny, but muscled. Like a miniature panther, she thought, marveling at his sleek coat. A tom cat, a cat that when it lived in a neighborhood would own that neighborhood, beating up all the dogs and taking all the lady cats...the one that the people would curse and call That Cat, and yet feel a secret, unbidden admiration. Rom finished the milk quickly, and looked at her again. "Don't tell me you can't catch mice," Leane said dryly, "Look at those paws. There're lots of mousies inside the storeroom - go catch them. Good pussy." Rom gave her a withering look and leaped lightly off the table, sniffing, then followed the strong scent of mouse. No sense in wasting good advice. Quietly he stalked through the worn floors, occasionally looking around. His target was making regular, silly squeaking noises, somewhere directly above him. Rom looked up to see a wooden shelf in jumping distance. Another squeak came from the shelf, and he crouched down. Man has often wondered why a small cat can hurdle a meter high fence while a larger dog cannot. Maybe the dog thinks it can't. Rom sprung up, and his paw flashed out to swipe the mouse off the shelf. According to physics and the laws of gravity (unless manipulated by mutants), the mouse would fall at the same rate as he would, but Rom didn't learn physics. He did know that if he stuck his paw out there and unsheathed his claws he would... The mouse gave a small, damp squeak as a sleek paw slammed onto its body. The last sound it ever made. Rom contemplated his kill and briefly thought about eating it. Then his mistress called. He looked back at the small body, then did the cat's version of an evil grin. Picking it up delicately, he padded over and out of the storeroom, then out into the garden. Looking around, he noted the wisteria, and climbed up easily, before performing small graceful, acrobatic leaps from windowsill to windowsill. Outside one he abruptly leaped in, flicking his head slightly to let go of the mouse at a precise angle before landing on four feet. ** As for Erik, he had been absorbed in some downloaded data until a very dead mouse landed on the keyboard. One, it seriously jumbled up the program, as it landed on the 'enter' key. Two, something dead landing very close to you is apt to be a shock. Erik leaped up with a startled cry, looked around wildly, and saw Rom washing his paws innocently on the other cushioned chair in the room. "Damn you," Erik told it, gingerly picking up the mouse and throwing it out of the window. A crow passing by had mild concussion and later, a good snack. Rom looked offended then padded over to him. Erik sat down warily as it leaped onto the computer table and looked at the screen. "Don't touch anything," Erik growled as he redid the program, "Or you'd follow the mouse down." Rom sniffed in disdain. "What mouse?" Magda asked suddenly from the doorframe. She had a slight smile on her face. Erik turned around. "Something your cat dragged in," he said dryly, shooting Rom a malevolent look. Then several things happened at once. Rom arched his back and hissed, leaping off the table. Magda cocked her head, and Erik started out of his chair. The muzzle of a gun somehow materialized next to Magda's head, and she froze. Kevlar-clad hands went under her neck and pulled her back. Erik stared at the Hawks that began to fill the room. "Give yourself up," the one holding Magda barked in German, "Or she dies!" Rom made the mistake of hissing. One of the Hawks calmly raised his gun and shot the cat, the force flinging it hard against the opposite wall. Magda let out a near-inhuman snarl of grief and rage. "Well?" the muzzle was pressed harder against her head. "Will you let her go?" Erik asked. "No." the man said calmly, "But we will not harm her further." Erik watched as a young Hawk approached cautiously. He held a plastic collar and similar handcuffs - holding collars, a sleeker version of those he had seen before. The things somehow cut off mutant powers. "Well?" the man asked again. Magda was silent. She wasn't going to waste any breath on 'Don't do it!' because she knew he would. Grudgingly, he held out his hands, and the young Hawk quickly clicked them on, then fastened the collar. The wall was there like he had never left - that shut out his powers on the other side and couldn't be battered down no matter what he did... The young Hawk moved fast, and something jabbed into his arm. A needle. Erik looked up in astonishment. "So that you don't try anything funny," the man rasped, "Tranquilizer." For Erik, at least, the world had just begun to spin.