Dear Readers,

This is an alternate reality story arc that I wrote originally when I was
in Mutant Comics. I'm not anymore, but the stories are still good.

While it *is* an alternate reality story, you can enjoy it. Most of the
characters are true to life. My characters will always have continuity, now
if only Marvel will be able to as well. . .
Truly Yours,

Benjamin Gibson

Disclaimer - and a bit more:
This is a work of fanfiction.
All characters listed here belong to Paramount. I borowed them, but - hey
who doesn't? - they're not mine. Don't sue. I don't have any money, anyway.
This is copyright 1997 to me, Benjamin Gibson. Put another way.
c1997 Benjamin Gibson
If you think you resemble a character - chaulk it up to my telepathic
powers, otherwise. . .
Comments, criticisms, et. al. can be written to me at:
david.gibson@tcs.wap.org.
Warning: flames shall be ignored, so don't send them. :-)
I use my Dad's service, that's why it's "david.gibson." I'm not the only
one who does this!
If you want to archive this, email at the above address. Don't steal the
stories of others. Ask them first.
"Thou shalt not steal."  - God, The Ten Commandments. (Note: This is also
in the law books.)
If there is anything else I forgot to mention, it *still* applies.

So without further ado. . .

Here is (H)Av(e (a l)ittle Av)on (Calling) #1.
Or if you prefer Av(al)on Calling.

Chapter 1, Book #1 - The Guest
*********
The surroundings were dark currently. Of course that was expected. They
weren't living in Antarctica after all. They were mutants. . . or at least
some were. They were also survivors, if they could be called that. One of
their own compared their plight to that of the Jewish race. Did anyone
really respect them? A difficult question that was posed. And hopefully
they would get an answer to that question in their life time. . .
*********
Suddenly a person on watch heard a noise. She wasn't supposed to, but she
did. She didn't like that.

"Who goes there?" Anger and distrust was so apparant that even if the
mysterious guests didn't pay attention they'd notice those traits in her
voice. If they paid a lot of attention they'd notice something else. Fear.
But, they weren't Sherlock Holmes, so they didn't. Neither did she either.

"What business is it of yours?" The tone was challanging. That and somewhat
paradoxial when one took into account the shape of the speaker's body.

"I make many things my business."

"Oh nothing aside from a wounded man, who's been spending the better part
of two days running."

"From who?"

"I don't really know. They had the hair style of a skin head, but they had
a long lock of hair dangling from the nape of their necks. They also
carried what I could only assume to be grotesque armor. Hideous, totally
hideous. There was skulls, signs of death, bloody heads coating parts of
their bodies, not to mention a perverted symbol."

"Of what?"

"I couldn't tell. There was a circle, a ghastly black, red, flesh color, an
"X", and a "M." They literally looked horrendous and perverted."

"You speak of the Stalkers if I know aright."

"I hope you do. Let me in woman. I am tired, lost, and wanting. I need a
refuge.  Let me in. I entreat you."

"You *may* have it, may, but beware these attacks aren't rare occurrences
for us."

"What do you mean?"

"This be Avalon."

"Great," the tone was sarcastic and casutic, "I don't suppose King Arthur
and Company can help me out."

"Maybe, but if you had any geography lessons you'd know that, that Avalon
was on an isle in an ocean." - At this the woman began to make a fake
seaman's accent. - "This here be nor land, laddy. So ye best be gettin'
away. From not only us, but them Scavengers."

"Please," the man sounded tired and pitable, "if you have a heart. . ."

"It'd be beating in my own skin. So leave. Now. Don't worry I suppose I can
scrounge up some ration for you. If you think you can eat what we call
"food."

At this another lady came up behind the current guardswoman.

"Lace, you know as well as I do that we should be welcoming of this new
victim. We who have lost so much surely can lose a small portion to help
another poor soul.
Right?"

"You may think so, but I do not. I would give him a ration. My kind words
were a fa‡ade. I care not what happens to a poor stranger." She began to
get angry. To most people that would be a bad thing. Not to Eloise however.
"And neither should you. You are so old."

"Then you are outvoted. I want in, so does the other lady. That's two." The
other man's voice was somewhat cocky. Though he was in no position to make
demands.

"I don't wish to let another in. We have enough trouble as it is."

"As the gallant young gentleman was so kind to remind you. You were
outvoted." The smugness in the voice was not apparant, but Lace could tell
she was shamed.

"So, who has the keys and the weapon." She may have been shamed, but she
could still try to shame her "mentor."

"The last time I checked I have a better, faster, quicker mind and body
than you will ever have."

"Cheap shot."

"No beating you up with your guard down would be. Show some good Christian
sense woman."

"If I was a Christian I would."

"Well then what are you."

"A diaspora." Her voice was cold. Cold and lifeless. "My people have been
thrown to the winds."

"So have mine. I still have my faith." She was now mocking the taller, more
muscular guardswoman, but she didn't care.

"Consider yourself lucky. I have gone through the camps."

"Oh, with a figure such as yours," she said mockingly, "I never would've
deduced you had experienced Auschwitz."

The large and muscular woman glared down hatefully, "Don't joke with me. .
." She was trying her hardest to sound intimidating, only she was barely
succeding. Of course even if she had, she wouldn't have any effect on
Eloise.

"Listen, sister, there is a human out there who needs help. My race was
butchered since no one else cared. 'Never again,' I say.  And I mean it."
She then took the keys from Lace and before she could protest, Eloise
unlocked the door.

And with that a stranger was brought into the fold.

"Who are. . .?"

"Magnus Gurion."

"Magnus! So you've returned, did you bring any new ones yet. . .Wait,
Magnus, I never realized until now, Gurion?. . . As in David Ben-Gurion?"

"Perhaps. My parents died in Buchenwald. I am a Jew, as to my lineage. It
too was destroyed with my parents. I was reared for a time by Steve
Rogers."

"Welcome then, one who was lost and now found," she again reiterated her
question about new found prisoners.

"Why, yes I believe I found. . .Alexi. Alexi! ALEXI!" Magnus loudly 
snapped.

[Something was wrong,] she felt. It had to do with Magnus. What was it?

"Y. . .y. . .y. . .y. . .Yes?" The man stammered. A once loud and
enthralling voice of a famous tenor was now merely a quiver.

"My dear matriarch, meet Alexi Guliono. He is an Italian tenor, but his
mutant power of singing and creating mental images through it, like many
things Sinister tried to destroy, is currently broken."

To be continued. . .


Chapter 1, Book #1 - The Guest who Spoke gets Spoken back to

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Humph." With that the woman known as Lace left.

"Ignore my friend. She has experienced hardship. . ."

She was cut off, bluntly, "As have all here. Why should she be cruel. Why
if I had been a new member . . ." Magnus's voice seemed to have a bit more
of an edge in it.

[Why? What happened on his last trip?] She decided to cut to the chase by
being somewhat blunt.

"You may have founded this place, Magnus, but she resents you nonetheless.
I did, after all, talk back to her. And besides, you left. Even if it was
supposed to only be a sabatical, it didn't exactly act like one. You came
back and all but told me that you were planning on living a "normal life,"
out side of Avalon. Most forgave you for doing so, but you can't  expect
that after returning that at least a few people will be slightly resentful,
even if it is only temporary."

"You?" He asked with mock incredulity, his voice now normal, immediately he
began to start his standard bantering.

"Yes, my short friend-"

"I have you know I am quite tall." Magnus said.  "At least one foot taller
than you are."

"Don't interrupt, it's rude."

"Tell me more, oh wise and polite one."

"What should I tell you that you do not already know?"

Before she could say more he interrupted, again.

"Then tell him," again his voice began to snarl slightly.

[What's wrong?] She was worried. A lot.

"Fine, this is a safehouse. All around there are people who have been
wounded, bruised, killed mentally or spiritually. We are people without a
reason to live, yet struggling to find a reason not to enter into the final
place."

"Sounds a bit poetic. . ." Came the almost snarling response

"Thank you. That's what reading will do to one, I guess." She tried to
sound innocent and smart, but came off sounding annoyingly innocent.
Needless to say he told her that.

In response he got a glare.

He started to say something but thought better of it.

". . . I thought you would've fixed it while I was on my venting spree.
Don't forget, Alexi should be the one to listen to your warbles, not me."

"If I wasn't in the presence of a new person I'd be tempted to flail you-"

"Hah!" Magnus exclaimed "With what?"

Before either could continue, the soft and broken voice of Alexi broke in.

"Are they all Jews here?"

"No, we also have Atheists. . . Buddhists. . . Christians. . . Muslims. . .
even
Zoroastrianists."

"Amazing."

"What?"

"That so many of such different faiths could be able to live together in 
peace."

"Why is that, son of a strong people?"

"The media doesn't hesitate to remind us about how "the evil foreigner is
out to kill us." From of all people, their new "foreigner."

"Faith, as I said, is a rare commodity here. Those with it, are blessed."

"You people seem to be a bit out of kilter."

"With who? You? The world? A liberal media?" The sarcasm in her voice was
able to dovetail quite properly with her normal voice.

"The world."

She found herself becoming a bit rankled by this new person.

"You would be too," she continued barely missing a beat, "if you saw your
dreams, loved ones, and all you hold dear butchered right before your very
eyes and knowing that you hadn't lifted a finger when you could've
prevented it." Eloise tried quite hard to sound embittered.

And she was successful.

"I believe you speak of a different world, madam. The Nazis were
demolished, as was "the evil empire" that was Russia."

'The man is fresh, and also a bit misguided,' she thought. [Communism is
still around. Check out China, - a place where Children are forced to work
for something equivalent to a few pennies a day, yet people keep buying
those shotty child produced goods. Because they're "cool." I don't know
why. Here in Avalon Nike shoes don't last long  - Cuba, North Korea, or any
other communsit country.]

"And you, goodman, have forgotten to look in your own back yard to see the
enemy within." She was poignant, deathly poignant

"Are you trying to scare me?" His voice was full of bravado, false bravado.
It had finally risen from a whisper to what was almost a challenge.

"If you will learn, then perhaps, yes."

"And if not?" The challenge was blatant.

"I will smile, as will you."

"You smile," he was incredulous, "I thought you 'saw your dreams, loved
ones, and all you hold dear butchered right before your very eyes,' and you
knew 'that you hadn't lifted a finger when you could've prevented it.' "

"Truly, you are a wise man." She mentally added [ You can also hear well, 
too.]

"Tell me how this travesty occurred," he was almost pleading with her.

She but cocked her head. Almost as if you was ignoring the young brown
headed man with a five o'clock shadow.

[Why?] He wondered. . .

To be continued. . .


Chapter 1, Book #1 - The Guest, Speaks


"Listen, pup, and you will learn. Of a story so chilling you would've
wished you had not asked it.
        'It began quite innocently. We humble citizens of various poor
districts of many nations all fell victim to the same ploy. A humble
businessman came to our town. He visited the slums and gave food. Little
did we know it was poisoned with a drug.
        'That drug was a addictive medicine not yet developed in all of the
world. He promised us wealth, fortune, power, et. al., if we would but go
with him. . . unconditionally. And we did. Oh, the day that we do not rue,
that horrendous day."
'We came by the hundreds, by a thousand fold. We came without care or
thoughtfulness. We weren't lucid, just totally inebriated. And we had good
reason. Here was a nice man who had come to help us out. Who were we to
doubt him?"

"Who indeed?" Again he rankled her. [Why?] she wondered. [Is this his
power? To insight anger and negative emotions?]

         'Hush, little one, interruption is rude. And people who
continually interrupt have higher chances of heart attack." She was again
her sarcastic self.
         'Getting back to the story," she began her transformation again.
We came joyfully. At first it was pleasant. Food was aplenty. It seemed we
could be able to start a palmy vill. But then just when we'd let our guard
down a few started to notice some missing persons.
        " 'Pay it no mind.' Some said. And we did. More went away. Still a
calling of ignorance was encouraged. That kind man wouldn't think of
harming us right?
 'We were wrong and in the middle of the night we were brought in to a
cold, dark, chamber. It sent chills down our spine. We didn't care how, we
just wanted a way out.
         "And we got one. Straight into hellfire. That infernal demon with
a star on his head. That crimson popinjay. He - or was it a neuter demon -
experimented on us. He slowly showed us first films of our family, then
actual specimens of us. He had us all encaged. We began to wish for our
lives in the immense grey container that at least had a breathing space in
it. Soon God died for many of us. It was the Holocaust all over again.
         "We were the next in the long line of sufferers. Bread wasn't even
something we received. Sometimes, if we were lucky we got mush. Other days
it was pure steam. Many shriveled up to die. Others were whipped or
flashblinded by staring at a replica of a constantly repeating atomic
explosion. Some, the luck ones, were submerged for long extended hours in
below freezing waters.
        "Others received flames so hot, one could feel the radiated energy
through the floor. Drugs, needles, poisons, agents in disguise. There was
no end to the devilish tricks and experiments he did to us.
        "The man that slowly killed us, one by one, had a name. He told us
it once. Only once. It was Sinister. The name chilled us. It was Sinister."

"You try to paint a chilling picture. How did you get out if this is true?"
He was cocky. That really rankled her.

        "Why it is simple. We didn't."

        Alexi said nothing. Almost as if he'd been so numbed - by noth only
her story but recent events - that he couldn't say a word.

        Her words did have an effect on Magnus. Anger welled up in Magnus.
[Who was this lunatic to preach? And who was she preaching to? Him or
Alexi? He'd been forced to spend the better part of two days running away
from an insane psychopath - the woman he loved who'd been kidnapped by
Sinister. And he was afraid he may never see her again. Added to this he
was hungry and the day was late. He also was part of a new group of people,
that probably would be slaughtered. Just like his ancestors, the Jews.

        "Don't play mind games with me, lady, I nearly saw someone I love
get killed - I almost wish she had been, can you believe that? - If it
hadn't been due to a certain accursed gene I . . ."

        The anger that had welled up in him, just as suddenly as it came,
suddenly left. Fear replaced it. Fear of rejection. Fear of loneliness.
Fear of starvation. Pain, pure unadulterated pain and suffering were almost
palpable in his mind just then. It was all he could do to restrain
himself."

        "You would've what?"

        "Been killed," for once he wasn't a stubborn man who she distasted.
She began to feel a bit sorry for him.

        "Dear, dear, child. Do not weep. Life is not for the weak. Yet we
are born  nonetheless. To those who have been given much, much will be
asked of them."

        "Why?!" Magnus exploded. Life was unfair. He knew it. Yet oddly
enough, he was opening up. Finally. It was as if he was just a babe again.
And his parents weren't killed.

        "Are you a mutant too?"

        "Perhaps. I know not. Not that it matters to me. Mutant. Gentile.
Non-mutant. Foreigner. Jew. Citizen. Christian. Free man. Itinerant. Slave.
Vagrant. Semite. Those are all titles. And with each a stigma is given. My
name is Eloise. I am matriarch here at Avalon. No one who needs, will be
turned away. Especially, not my elder brothers and sisters."

        "Who - err - what are you? I mean what is your faith?"

        "Does it matter? I believe in the same God you do."

        "I just want to know," He spoke in short stammered sentances,"To be
reassured. Of what I do not know. Just reassurance."

        "I am a member of one of the Judeo-Christian sects. I have my
precepts which I follow, as do you. Beyond that, I care not."

        "You seem a strange woman, Eloise."

        "I know. But the hour is late and I feel you could use a nice place
to rest."

To be continued. . .

Chapter 1, Book #1 - The Second "Guest" thinks & gets Spoken back to,
                                   or the Shorter version : The Wanderer


* * * * * * * * * * * * *

The next day Magnus woke up feeling refreshed, yet missing something still. 
This was due to his continual quest. He spent his whole life searching for 
something which he still didn't know what it was. And he still was a bit 
lost, even after his return to Avalon . Didn't he also have a bit of 
unfinished business?

First thing, first. He was shy and introverted, those chains sometimes held 
him. For some reason which he didn't know he felt very fearful meeting new 
people and being in new locales, but only sometimes. As the leader of this 
band in the cold cruel world that was Avalon, he needed to be strong, and 
not show fear, not now.  

Secondly, he felt unsure of himself, partly on account of his mutant power. 
He wasn't sure what he could do. He, however, didn't want to accidently 
hurt himself while experimenting with what he could do. He also didn't want 
to become power hungry. Perhaps that was the reason why his powers weren't 
developed, yet his body was.  Still, the sight of the mirror didn't give 
him confidence. If anything his recently found confidence was crumbling. 
Who was he to say "Leave with me now and escape from your dire predicament. 
You deserve life?" 'Does anyone?' He began to wonder.

"Where will I get confidence anew? Where did I get it from earlier?" he 
wondered.
His musings were broken by the loud cry of Eloise.

"Magnus! The hour is late, you may miss breakfast. That is something which 
you are not allowed to do here. Believe me, if you don't come out of your 
own accord I'll come in."

Normally if Magnus was asleep or half asleep he would've ignored her calls. 
He shot back, though he felt three-quarters awake, "Oh and what will the 
matriarch do to the master of metals? Especially the one who founded this 
place? You are quite to big for your britches."

Now, he was already awake, so he couldn't ignore her much longer. He had 
after all shot back at her. So why bother attempting to avoid the 
inevitable? He had usually gotten up at sunrise. It felt much later though. 
        So much, that the temptation of more rest was strangely coming upon 
him. Almost like a thief in the night. He was perplexed and annoyed. 
"Perhaps I am becoming too religious," he mused. "Or else I have been 
around very religious people." Why else would that analogy come into his 
thick skull.
        Unfortunately, for the Matriarch, she hadn't been able to pull her 
standard wakeup maneuver. This she knew would later be a problem. If she 
spent all her time on Magnus she couldn't wake the new comers up on time. 
They would eventually get into the habit of sleeping in. This was bad, very 
bad.
        She hoped, tradition notwithstanding, she wouldn't have to pull her 
trick. 

        Otherwise she might end up barking up the wrong tree. 

        Something a matriarch is not meant to do.

        And so she opened up his door, though she knew he surely would be 
surprised. Perhaps even embarrassed. Definitely, he would be out bed and at 
the dining hall in a few minutes. She had but opened the door when he soon 
started to leave his room.
WHAMM! The door slammed in to him. 

        And it hurt! 'Well at least I have something else on my mind now,' 
he half smiled to himself.

        "What was that for?" His voice was intended to be sarcastic and 
playful. It was, but just barely.

"What?" she asked. Though she was trying to not sound annoying or 
sweetishly innocent, she failed.

        "Hitting me on the forehead. I had already made myself accessible 
to the public eye. Is there any reason why I am assaulted for doing what 
has been asked of me?"

        "No. Just don't be late for breakfast." With that she turned 
smartly and left, hoping that her poker face would not crack at the sight 
of a battered - but surely scarlet red - face.

        She did not.

        At the table she conservatively asked him about his health. The 
only response was something about how he wished he could control wood as 
well as the metal in it.
Much later when the lines where ended and the "soup kitchen" closed he 
asked if he could do anything for the vill.

        "Why we've been needing someone to help us locate some missing 
straplings."

        "You mean to tell me that despite everyone's loss there are still 
people who wish to further bruise others? I. . ."  

        Again he began to get enraged. Yet again he cooled it.

Then she interrupted him.

        "Well I certainly did this morning didn't I?"

        Ignoring her at first, he continued "I thought you would've taken 
care of that also by now." Sense would tell him to ignore the bruise she 
had given him. But it still hurt, that was why he said, "I shall choose to 
ignore that incident, Madame and I hope you will too."

        "Believe me, I will."

        And so Magnus went about his merry way a bit quicker than normal. 

        As he was leaving she thought 'Yes, something is amiss with 
Magnus,' she murmured. 'But what?'

        The first thing he had to do was contact his "contacts." The 
undercover mutants and humans who could fool the non-lawabiding ones in the 
city that they were crocks as well. Seeing to his contacts was easy and 
since he knew the arts of hiding and other interesting necesary skills he 
easily found his friends and got the information that he needed.

        'What could possibly be so hard to do?' he mused after wards. 'They 
are only children. And I drew up the plans for the city.' 

        However his reflections were cut short when he entered into what 
could best be described as the "bad part of town."

        Perhaps a bit of background would be helpful for comprehension.

        Avalon was truly a hodgepodge. It's inhabitants were a collection 
of many. Not only were they of diverse  faiths, yet they also had various 
ways of looking at life. In the North and West sections the city was 
"affluent," if it could be called that. Affluence in Avalon meant three 
meals a day along with some semblance of shelter and a place of cleansing, 
both corporeal and mental. In the Eastern section it was worse, but people 
were mostly clothed. Not mention, somewhat healthful. The Southern side of 
Avalon was truly the embodiment of a medley. Her citizens could be seen 
singing, dancing, warming themselves by a fire, or assaulting one another.

        And he definately wasn't in the "good part" of town.
 
        "You must stop this at once! I command it!"

        "And who are you, Mac?" The tone was challenging. Too challenging.
Magnus's was more superior, but like a teacher, in a slightly punishing 
tone. 

        "My name is unimportant to you. Suffice it to say I am a powerful 
man, with powerful friends. And a powerful temper when I see injustice 
happening."

        The man who responded was: short, paunchy, and smelled as though he 
hadn't taken a bath in a good many months. Not to mention he had a bad 
taste in clothes, and some of them were on wrong. "Yeah. Yeah. Sure, pops. 
All right,  boys, give it to 'im." 


To be continued. . .

Chapter 1, Book #1 - The Wanderer seeks

* * * * * * * * * * * * *


A solid wave of energy, both mental, and physical hit Magnus like a tidal 
wave.

"What! How can this be? I am immobilized by energy! Of what kind though? I
can surely put up some barrier, but first I must know what it is."
Suddenly it hit him. Literally.

"U f f !"

Magnus felt that his brain was on fire.

"Telepath. Must be telepath. Must fight," he spattered.

All his life Magnus Gurion had fled. When his parents yelled at each other
he fled. When he was first assailed, and then assaulted worse by bullies
and others he fled. When he failed his teachers and parents he fled. Yet
most recently, when he was assaulted by those people - those Scavengers! -
he knew that his running had to stop one day. He knew it. He also knew he
had some unconscious, latent mental power. Only he knew that it was
inaccessible to him. Or was it?

Like a man who has just seen the answer to a puzzle, but it flashes in
front of him for  but a second, Magnus tried hard to unravel his problem.
Slowly, awash with the pain and tearings of what seemed to be thousands of
the world's wounded, he suddenly realized something. And that information
allowed him to finally - yet only momentarily-  grasp what he needed for
salvation. And grasp it he did!

Slowly, meticulously he began to build a mental shield. Then like getting a
second
chance at life he slowly remembered all his lessons in science class. How
energy worked. How the electromagnetic fields were harnessed. How energy
flowed. All the knowledge that was necessary to defeat this challenge.
Surprisingly on the face of it, the answer revealed itself immediately. He
supposed it's weakness was due to the emaciated bodies and minds of these
starved, lawless and fearful human and mutate.

Here, the collective consciousness had combined their minds to act like an
incessant  river. A river of raw emotion, energy, and pain that might have
overwhelmed lesser men and women. Magnus Gurion knew that he was weak. Yet
that knowledge oddly gave him strength to start assembling what he needed
together. At first he was a bit unsure how to defeat such a "river" of
energy. However he soon realized that energy, and this river could flow
away from him. He only needed some sort of reflector. And so building upon
the math he learned, he remembered the precise angle at which he needed to
deflect the energy. Now if only he could remember how to deflect it
properly. . .

And the energy buildup was reflected right back at his assailants. Magnus
was pleased with himself. Of course when being assailed, Magnus made the
point of attacking  - or running - immediately. Sadly, he had a duty to do.
A duty which prevented running.

"Well now. Anyone care to explain why I was attacked?" His voice was
bombastic, but he didn't care.

"No reason is needed to explain our actions. We are supreme here. And we
mean to stay that way."

"From the way you speak, I assume you are the leader."

"Not of this, nor any band. I do not wish to be in charge. I am simply the
eminence grise."

"Ah, 'the power behind the throne.' Well then tell me, oh now deposed
"king." Where have you hidden the children?" He already had a good idea of
where the children  should be. This would be a way to prove his contacts
were still accurate, after a week later. And also it would be fun. He
hadn't played "evil" cop in a while. Besides he needed something to take
his mind off his worries.

"What? You think me a newborn 'napper?"

"Yes."

"Murder, - perhaps - , Thief - and proud of it -, liar, trickster, dealer
in the not so good things in life, Supplier - but certainly not Smoker - of
many addicting dreadful drugs, Alcoholic, even. But, children! What do you
take me for? A low life crook?"

"Yes."

"Well for once, Mr. High and Mighty, you are wrong. I certainly would never
lower myself to such standards. Sinister would certainly, but not I."

"Then perhaps you can tell me where he is."

"Who?"

"Sinister."

"Sinister?" The man was incredulous.

"You must be joking!"

"I said, 'Then perhaps you can tell me where Sinister is.' "

"I heard you the first time, but Sinister. . ."

"Yes?"

"He butchered us all. I can see him trying to get his paws on some of the
young, but
why here? He'd surely alert us all. No, I doubt he has them. Besides, you
know where Sinister is, you always are attacking him!"

"Then, where are they?" Magnus was getting nowhere with this lowlife,
except angrier.

"I don't know."

"You'd better, or else you'll have a close encounter. Of the next kind."

"I swear I don't."

Magnus slowly made a fist.

Then even more slowly he raised it.

It was now a hair's breathed from the law breaker.

"Magnus."

"Stay out of this, Eloise. This is simple persuasion."

"Right."

To be continued. . .


Chapter 5, Book #1 - The Wanderer gets some answers
by: Benjamin Gibson
* * * * * * * * * * * * *


        [Eloise], he thought, [I am sure you can deduce from my actions
that I won't hurt this man. Just leave.] He wasn't sure if she'd leave. He
wasn't a strong telepath, to his knowledge, but maybe if fortune smiled on
him she'd leave. Maybe.
For a minute he debated yelling and ordering the matriarch of the city to
leave, but he realized that she had already left. How she knew, didn't
really matter. He was being left alone to do his job. And if it took a
little acting to do it, then so much the better.

       "Please I mean you no harm," the man was now begging. Why did all
law breakers and bullies share the same mental attitude. They could act
like great heroes of legend when beating up someone. Yet, if someone would
defy them, they would become, eventually, a weak and almost pitiable husk.

        'A shame. A great shame,' he mentally thought. 'To see one's
fellows killed or assailed in such a manner. And their attackers were
wimps. What is the phrase? Oh yes, 'Never again.' '

        Magnus was going to say, "A shame. A great shame. After seeing
one's fellows killed or assailed in such a manner. . ."

        Without anything else said or done the man collapsed. Magnus
dropped him.

        "Thank you, for not hurting him."

        "I would never hurt those who I need to protect. . .even those who
need protection from themselves."

        "For that I am thankful."

        "Are you telepathic?"

        "No, I am a mutant, sort of, I read people like books. No one's
true intentions or form can be hidden from me. I know not if that is due to
a good Sociology teacher, or simply an aberrant gene."

        "Mutant talents may be abnormal, but they aren't negative of
themselves. Their use is the use of the owner. A gun, after all is not
evil. A man is."

        "Such wisdom, from one so young." She wasn't mocking him,
nonetheless, a compliment couldn't hurt.

        "You are even younger."

        "You still have work to do."

        "I know. What I don't know is the locale of the missing children. I
don't suppose you know of their _in situ_?"

        "I think they would've moved from their original place now wouldn't
you?"

        "Yes, but I wanted to show you that I actually have a brain."

        "I am pleased to know that."

        "You're welcome."

        "Wouldn't a little investigation help?"

        "I see you want to play Sherlock Holmes?"

        "Well............"

        "I won't ask for a true answer."

        "Thank you."

        Then the duo went to the original place of the first missing pair
of children. Not that it helped. The place was ugly. Where there should've
been tents, or a facsimile thereof made of rock there was instead a ripped,
beaten, cracked, reprehensible alcove chipped  out  of rock and full of
missing objects. "Life sucks!" was written on one thin strip of cloth.
Another had some obscene or bizarre drawings. That was the more tamer
designs.

        Methods of hurting, surprising - err shocking was more accurate -,
and beating  people were explained. Also ways to make various gasses and
bombs were discussed. There was also the standard water gun designs.

        "This kid is weird."

"You certainly are quick."

        "I don't want snazzy comments, nor insults ma'am. Is this one a
problem child?"

"I'd have though you would've realized that."

        "So you knew that this. . .child was a delusional punk who wants to
obliterate thousands?" Magnus was half incredulous.

"As I said you are quick."

        "And why should we waste our time on a problem child?"

"Because, "this. . .child" needs our help."

        "He'd kill us given half a chance."

"Why is it assumed that every delusional problem child is a male?"

        "You just said that didn't you?"

"No, I said child. And if you want to be sure you can read my mind. I truly
remember what I said and I won't lie to you. I certainly won't like it, but
that's not the point."

        "I will assume you are in control of you faculties, nonetheless, is
the child a "she" or a "he"?"

"Only time will tell."

        "What?"

"Oh, I forgot to mention, this "problem child," is androgynous. . ."

        "A neuter male-female human creature?" Magnus asked incredulous.

"I'm not sure."

        "What!"

"Please stop saying that. . ."

        "What?" He was quite perturbed, and confused.

"Exactly," she however was quite serene.

        "Whatever." Magnus thought it best to just leave while he still had
some sanity
left. And he did.

        Magnus was slightly unsure where he should go. He may have made the
plans for the city, but he found this quarter out of place with the plans.
He had not told her he guessed where the child was. Through some of his
contacts, he now remembered hearing of a child which fit the description
she gave him. His earlier attempts at blind rampage throughout the criminal
element of the city had a secret purpose. Let them know children are not to
be harmed. If you do, I'll come after you, and you won't like that, not at
all.

        The contacts' information directed him to a section of the quarter
which had a lot of side streets, garbage, low hanging wires, and various
other things getting in people's ways. Magneto had thought he'd seen
everything. That didn't prepare him for the onslaught he was about to now
face. . .from behind.

        He sensed some sort of person behind him. Thinking it to be a bum
he lowered his guard. That was a mistake. First, he heard a loud rebel
yell. That however was nothing compared to the squirt gun.

        That hated device. He'd kill the user. . . if he could find him.
Magnus turned, only to see a child. Something about him made him wonder.
The child was not muscled like most boys, but too muscled to be a girl. The
hair was short, in a pageboy, but the child looked almost feminine.

        Then it clicked, it must be the missing child.

"Stay here. I won't move."

        "Neither will I."

"Why not?" Magnus was curious, very curious.

To be continued. . .

Chapter 6, Book #1 - The Wanderer seeks
by: Benjamin Gibson
* * * * * * * * * * * * *


        "I think you look familiar."

"How familiar?" Magnus was starting to believe that this child wasn't too
bad. She or
he, hadn't made him too wet.

        "I've seen your face before."

"Where?"

        "On wanted posters! Hah! I killed me!"

If this was the child's idea of humor, the kid needed help. Serious help.

"I must now arrest you for your own good. You are in serious delusion and
are beginning to make corny jokes."

        One may assume any one with telepathic powers would simply command
another to do their bidding. Not so with Magnus. His powers weren't
developed, and what he seemed to have were more along the lines of
Eloise's.

        That left out one way. Magnus wasn't without options though. He
controlled all magnetic metals. The city had massive amounts of metal all
over. He designed it that way. A metallic trash can was close by, as were
many other things. The moved with ease. Immediately the child realized that
the way was blocked. So having no other option available, the child ran
toward Magnus, only to be thrown onto the street.

"Why did you run into me with my shield up?"

        "Why should it matter?"

"I could've had spikes in my shields. They could've hurt you."

        "You wouldn't do that."

"Why not?"

        "You're a hero. They don't hurt people."

"Oh my mistake. I'll have to use some collective bargaining."

        "With who?"

"My union boss.," he said nonchalantly.

        "You have a union?" the boy was incredulous.

"Doesn't everyone?"

        "I don't."

"You will."

        "Cool! But... why do you need to call her."

"What makes you think she is a 'she'?" he asked defiantly to the child.

        "All bosses are "shes" it says so in the rule book."

"Ohhhhhhhhkay!" Magnus was rolling his eyes.

        "Hey don't roll your eyes at me."

'I don't."

        "Suuuuuuuuuuuure."

"That's my line. . .child," he said so with a fake air of contempt.

        Of course just then another, would come running along.

        This child was a black boy. 'Oh great! If I refer to him as being
mentally unstable or racist, as I think he is because of what looks like a
weird Nazi swastika tattoo on his arm, people will think me a
Jewish-supremacist!'

        "Hello," Magnus said trying to keep his voice welcoming.

"Yo, bud gimme that slug."

        "Why may I ask."

"You may not. I need to clip its heart out."

        "That is quite inhumane, sir," the welcoming voice Magnus had just
gotten nearly vanished.

"If it was human, I'd care."

        "That symbol, on your wrist. . ."

"Yeah what about it?" The child was nearly enraged. Something Magnus wanted
to avoid. Enraged kids, make for crazy and easily hurt kids.

        "What is it?"

        "It's a cool symbol. It's of a group which thinks that Darwin was
to soft, and that we should exterminate all who are unfit, or aren't
human."

        "You have what appears to be a monocle. You -  by your definition -
should be shot. After all, you need a monocle to see out of one eye."

"You're crazy man. I can run the mile in 4 minutes flat."

        "I don't wish to bother discussing the "humanness" or the "fitness"
you have."
Magnus thought presenting him with the cold hard facts might work. Then
again, maybe not. He tried a different tactic.

        "Why do you hate that child?"

"I don't hate nobody."

        'Your grammar implies you do,' Magnus was tempted to say, but he
didn't. "Then why do you want to kill that child?"

"He's unfit to live."

        "Ah, so the child is a "he-"

"That's not what I mean. . ."

        "Then what do you mean?"

"That . . .child... as you put it, is not human. It's not male, nor 
female."

        "Are you a doctor? Have you checked for male body parts?"

"That thing over t'er' said it wasn't male nor female!"

        Magnus was beginning to realize provoking the child induced
grammatical errors. He'd try to avoid that.

        "Did you?" Magnus asked, blatantly annoyed that his annoyance
couldn't be hidden.

   "If he hates me for what I am, am I not better than he?"

"NO YOU AIN'T NO HUMAN! YOU A STINKIN' !#@$%#@ $%^%& ^%*&* &^$^* &^* (%^(& 
*!!!"

        "Such language and emotion."

  "You have no idea."

        Especially since that wasn't even the English language."

" What was it?"

        "Stupid Symbols."

  " You know this is all because of my ethnic background.

"You have none."

   "Whatever."

       The sounds of laughter could be heard in the background.

        Explain again why you're hated?

A while ago we met and when I told him what I was, he went and hit me.

I didn't!"

        Ignore him.

   Well ever since we've been sore at each other.

        What provoked you?"

Honestly nothing

        Then what happened?

Well I met him we started talking, then he said some rude things and he got
mad. I threw him using a throw. . .

And they went on for quite a while like that. Talking. Eventually, however,
something happened in one. It was called grief.

[The sound changed from laughter to agony]

  "Oh friend!

Friend you call me friend?

  Yes! I really don't have any and you were my first one.

Again they talked a while longer.

[A second sound of amazement was heard]

  "You know, you're right.

"Oh! I am! What a concept!"

        Let's be nice

"I wasn't being rude was I?

   "No."

[A gasp could be heard again, only it seemed to come from close by. Very
close by.]

Much later.

"How'd you patch that up? Powers? Magnus, you should know better."

        "Sort of. They were young and despite what they said I think they
hated each other since they lived in hate filled families. What one
admitted was true for them both. They'd spent so much time with one friend,
and then ultimately they squabbled. They almost forgot how to make new
friends, and forgive each other.
"Do you believe in forgiving those who wronged you or doubted you?" she
interrupted quickly.

        "Of course," Then without missing a beat he continued. "Then they
had a disagreement. Being young, they're hate filled relatives realized the
time to strike. And they did. I felt beneath the surface they were simply
people with false bravado."

"What a shame."

        "Yes."

"I doubted you could do it."

        "You?"

"Yes, forgive me."

        "You, of course."

"How about Alexi?"

        "What's he done?"

"You and I only know. Admit it. He refused to help you save him. He wanted
to die and indirectly - by doing so - nearly tried to kill you."

        "How do you know this?"

"I read people like books. I see great shame in you as well as him. Forgive
him, Magnus. You will feel better for it."

        "How did you know this?"

"You told me, indirectly of course."

        "I suppose that I don't hate him for getting me into a scenario I
didn't wish to be in. No, it was his refusal to admit I was right and he
was wrong. Most would agree with me, who wants to spend a life in such an
infernal place?"

"Those without all of their proper faculties."

        "Or without hope."

"Many here don't have that. They have little or no families, their work is
difficult and they see no reward for it. Life is full of weird quirks like
that. Rob people of hope, they won't try. They are already half dead."

        "I still have a case to solve. Help me with it, then I will be on
the road to healing."

"You are taking this rather easily."

        "Shouldn't I be?"

"Few can."

        "I always have been a nonconformist."

"Magnus Gurion, stop right here!"

        "Say what you need to say, and be quick."

"You're forcing it on yourself. Why, because I'm harping about morals? Or
do you just want to forget it, because then you won't have to deal with
your problem? Magnus if that's true you're half the man I thought you
were."

        She turned and left. Her face was red, not due to embarrassment,
but due to blood coming to her face. She was angry at her friend. He was a
bit out of kilter. What happened to him?'

        Magnus was feeling embarrassed. He hadn't meant to shout off in
that manner. '
True he was annoyed, but did that give him the right to hurt his friends?
No, of course not.' He should settle the matter with Alexi later. He would,
he was sure he wouldn't hurt him, but he so wanted to now.

         "Wait, Eloise!"

But he didn't get a response from her. . .

To be concluded.

Chapter 7, Book #1 - The Wanderer finds some answers inside of himself
(The last chapter)
by: Benjamin Gibson
* * * * * * * * * * * * *



        She was out of ear shot and view. That made Magnus mad. He swore,
though in an old tongue which his parents probably didn't remember very
well during most of their lives - until they met the Nazis, that is.

        "I still have to find two kids. Where are they? Better yet, why am
I talking to myself."

        So Magnus started walking. Probably she had already found the
children and brought them to a safe place. There were two others still
missing. His contacts had been right about the children. The first pair was
close to where they should've been. Of course going to find missing
children with absolutely no help was a pain, and should take a long time.
That thought was put in the back of his mind when he smelled smoke.

        "FIRE!" He hear someone shout.

        "Oil Fire! It won't go out with water!"

        "We'll all die!"

        "We deserve to die!"

        "Hush!"

        "No one will die while I'm around," Magnus was emotional. A memory
of not being able to save a young family in the hands of Sinister flashed
through his mind. 'Never again,' he'd vowed. He wouldn't break his vow.

        An explosion erupted from the building. Magnus went wild. He hurt.
. .all over. Thanks to his mutant ability he'd been able to shield himself
mostly from the blast.

        'The family!' he thought, fear building up in him. "No!"

        "Cough, Cough!"

        "Help! Someone, Please!"

        "Don't worry I'll save you!"

        Magnus hated the words. They were so corny, nonetheless, he hoped
they were true.Magnus leapt up. Their terror stained faces chilled his
marrow. Blackness. . .   soot. . . extreme heat. . .their home destroyed. .
.fires blazing all around them getting closer, ever closer. . .

        Is there any other reason why they were chilled?

        It didn't matter.

        He'd save them.

        He knew he would.

        He had too.

        And he did.

        "How did this happen?" Magnus didn't mean to sound too
authoritarian, but evidently he had.

        "I. . ." The child was holding on to his Mom's charred hose with
dear life.

        "Yes?" He was much softer now.

        "Well, I was playing around downstairs close to all those things
that Mommie told me to stay away from. I didn't mean to but I dropped a
candle. . ."

        "And you were afraid to tell Mommie and soon it caused a fire?"
Magnus finished.

        "How'd you know?" The boy was shocked.

        "It's happened before."

        "Oh."

        "Here come with me, I'll lead you out of this section."

        "No!" The woman was aghast.

"Why not?" he was incredulous. "What have you to live for? Your home is
shattered, and there is nothing of value there in that run down building.
Leave this section of town is horrendous."

        "That is why we must stay. To rebuild our land and help others less
fortunate."
The woman spoke what he wished others would speak. Still, she couldn't live
here. She was without basic necessities. Right?

        He told her that.

        She told him quick curtly he was wrong.

"What?" He was incredulous.

        "You heard me. The family is fine. We have lived like this for
generations. "We" is the families of my husbands and mine, incidentally."

        "Thank you." He was disgusted. Surely she was out of her mind.
I am quite sane sir. I can read minds and be very persuasive. Don't worry,
I have given those of my loins all they need. . .if not more. They will not
be wanting anything. Believe me."

        Magnus soon found himself believing her. Though he felt in his
heart she was probably wrong.

        "I will come and check on you later. Meanwhile, I am looking for a
few children. Perhaps you've seen them? One is a short brunette, the other
is a tall malformed one."

        "Let me think. . ." She put on a distant look for a moment and gave
a curt nod.

        "Yes. Go around the corner. They are right there. Those have been
fighting for weeks and nearly everyone is either an ally or enemy."

        "Peachy, but why?."

        "Well it all focuses on a damaged dart board. One claims the other
ruined it since he would lose easily."

        "Then why not change games and avoid it or else practice it so he
could get good at it?"

        "These are children. Not intelligent, mature people. Children grow
and learn after making mistakes. You understand?"

        "Sure." He was being flip. Oddly enough it felt good. She'd been to
curt for his tastes. Wasting no time Magnus marched to the described point.
She was right. Outside the  home were two children. Fighting softly.
Apparently they didn't wish to make much noise.

        "Hey! Break it up, will you?"

        They both paused. Looking at each other almost debating it. Then in
a chorus they said, "NO!!" and began beating each other.

        "That wasn't a choice." Magnus rumbled. "You will stop. Now."

        They kept fighting.

        For two minutes only.

        "Stop!" Magnetic energy flowed out of his hands. They grabbed the
children.

Immediately they stopped.

        "Hey!~

        "What are you doing?"

"Yeah! Stop!"

        "I give orders in this vill, strapling. Now hush! So commands the
founder of this city."

Immediately one bowed.

        "All hail the "Master of Magnetism!!"

The tone was sanctimonious and not even fitting.

        'His powers weren't just on the magnetic spectrum. He knew that.
Why did people just think due to his antics that he was the "Master of
Magnetism!" ?'

        "I've heard you are fighting over a dart board."

"He stole it."

        "He defaced it!"

Both sounded whiny, brattish, childish, and rude. All combined together. He
hated the
sound. It grated his ears. Especially his inner ear.

        "I don't care! You are missing, your parents are looking for you.
You are causing a serious amount of trouble. Who started it doesn't matter.
You need to get home to your respective families."
        "We won't go."
"Yeah. He has to apologize first."
        "No, he does."
This was getting him no where.

        "Why don't you both apologize."

        "No!" One was serious offended, was he the cause?

"For what?" This one was puzzled, was he the victim?

   "Being rude to one's friends."

"We aren't friends!"

        "We never were!" This from the puzzled one?

"Actually, we were. For one day. Then that stupid dart board came in. I
hated it. And your mom! Wuss!"

        "I don't care you hurt my board. I want to get some recompense for 
it."
"The injured party was beginning to show itself. Slowly, admittedly.

        "Would either forgive one another if you could get an apology or
some recompense?"

        "Yeah!"

   "What?" Magnus wanted this conflict ended. What sort of leader would he
be if he couldn't get two children to cooperate. Especially former friends.

"A ride with you!"

   "To where?"

"Anywhere. I just want to fly.!"

        "I'll do it if I get an apology, and a replacement board."

"I can provide the flight. But only if you apologize to him."

"That's unfair!"

     "So is life, get used to it. This is called collective bargaining."

"Well. . . maybe, if when we fly we go over the entire city."

    "Done, and gladly. Lets all shake on it." Sigh. Perhaps this was too
easy. If so, he felt
he could base it on a variety of a factors. One of which was a benevolent
being somewhere.

And with that Magnus began to walk with the children home.

The End.