The Jewels of Cyttorak (6 page)

Gary’s mouth actually opened in shock as Robert stood and faced him, and it was clear to Robert that the look in Gary’s eyes was pure fear.

“Jealous, little brother?” Robert asked, and laughed. Gary shook his head slowly, never taking his eyes off Robert. “Just worried,” he said softly.

“You,” Robert said, pointing at Gary, “worried about
me
? Now that’s a funny one.”

“You
are
my brother,” Gary said.

Robert stepped one large, building-shaking step closer to Gary and the smaller man cowered back slightly, but, to his credit, didn’t budge.

“Are we lucky? Has the old man gone to meet the devil yet?” Robert asked.

Gary shook his head. “Keep your voice down,” he said. “He’ll hear you.”

Robert laughed even harder at that. “And you think

I care?” Robert asked. Then he glared down at Gary. “You just keep sniveling around Father like you’ve been doing and leave me alone. Fve got a few trips to make and I may be gone for a few days. Call me if the old man croaks.”

Gary said nothing, but simply turned and left, slarn-ming the door as he went.

Robert laughed, long and hard. He knew his laughs were echoing through the big, old mansion. He just hoped they were driving his brother and father crazy. It would be an added benefit to this wonderful new strength and size.

Too bad he couldn’t stay around longer and have even more fun with them. Maybe after he found the other parts of the emerald and returned, there would be time.

“Oh, that would be fun,” he said, and laughed again.

Gary let the booming, echoing laughs of his brother follow him down the gloomy halls of the mansion. Robert’s size was incredible. During the night Gary had almost convinced himself that he’d imagined what had happened with the emerald and Robert. But now, in the light of day, it was clear that Robert’s new size and power were very real.

That made his plans even harder. Robert was just crazy enough that he’d kill his own brother when he found out how he had been tricked out of control of the Service businesses. And now Robert had the power to do it.

There had to be a way to get Robert back to normal, or at least a way to control him.

Gary headed toward his father’s room. Maybe the old man knew a way. After all, he’d been the one to find the emerald in the first place.

Last night, after Robert had touched the emerald, their father had had a very mild heart attack. The nurse had kept him sedated for the remainder of the night, and a doctor had checked him over this morning. No change. He was going to die shortly of cancer, if his heart didn’t take him first. And there wasn’t a thing medical science could do to stop it.

And for that Gary was glad.

As Gary got to his father’s room, the old man was starting to come around again.

The machines near his bed were all active and the heart monitor beeped continuously. The morning nurse, a middle-aged, brown-haired woman with hard gray eyes sat on a chair near the machines, reading a Stephen King novel.

Gary let the smell of the cancer envelop him as he entered the room. Even after being so close to his father over the last month as the cancer got worse, the smell still turned his stomach. He doubted if he’d ever clear that smell out of his memory.

“Father,” Gary said, moving over beside the blinking old man and sitting down in his normal chair beside the bed. “Go slow. I’m right here.”

But the old man seemed upset. He grabbed Gary’s arm with a surprisingly strong grip, pulled himself up slightly, and looked Gary right in the eye.

“Did I dream it?” he asked, his voice hard and raspy. “Did Robert touch the emerald?”

“I’m afraid he did,” Gary said.

The old man let go of Gary’s arm and sank back, closing his eyes with a sigh.

The beeping of the machine increased and the nurse looked up at it, then went back to reading.

“Nurse,” Gary said, “Could we possibly have a moment alone, please?”

The woman glanced at the machines, nodded, then stood and left the room without a word, closing the door behind her as she went.

“Father,” Gary said, lightly touching the back of the old man’s hand. “Tell me more about the emerald. Is there any way to return Robert to normal?”

The old man shook his head, flopping it back and forth as if he were having a nightmare. Then he stopped and opened his eyes again. ‘ ‘All I know is what that monk told us,” he said. “And I told you all he said last night.” “Oh,” Gary said, sitting back in his chair, dejected. So much for getting a quick fix from the old man.

“But,” his father said softly, almost as if he were afraid to speak.

Gary sat back up straight and again touched his father’s hand. “But what, father?”

“In my desk,” he said. “Right-hand drawer in a file labeled research, there is a picture cut out of a newspaper. It’s near the back of the file.”

“And what’s the picture of?” Gary asked.

“A creature,” his father said.

Gary shook his head in frustration. “Why will it help?” Gary asked. “What creature?”

His father opened his eyes wide and stared at Gary.

“A creature who walks today and who looks like ...”

“Cyttorak?”

“No. That’s not what the creature in the newspaper was called,” the old man said. He weakly waved a hand. “Go. Look.”

Gary nodded. “I’ll be back shortly,” he said.

On the way out he motioned for the nurse to go back inside, then at a quick pace he headed for his father’s office near the front of the mansion.

The place hadn’t even been cleaned much since his father turned ill. The old man hadn’t wanted it touched. And since both Gary and Richard had their own offices in other areas of the mansion, it hadn’t mattered.

The file was right where the old man said it would be, and the clipping was toward the back of the file. The minute Gary saw the newspaper article he dropped back into the tall desk chair his father had used for years. His heart was racing and he couldn’t seem to catch his breath.

“Oh, no,” he said softly.

The picture on yellowed newspaper was of a giant human wearing armor and a bullet-like helmet, giving him the appearance of having no neck. Richard was nowhere near the size of the guy in the picture, but his body was clearly shaping in that direction.

Under the picture the caption read: juggernaut on RAMPAGE AGAIN.

Remy had spent most of the hot, humid New Orleans summer day sitting in the shade of an umbrella on the edge of a courtyard cafe, sipping iced tea and waiting.

His headband kept the sweat out of his face and his hair up and out of his eyes. His Gambit costume under his duster wasn’t as hot as he’d expected it to be in these conditions, which was a relief, considering that the duster did nothing to keep him cool. And wearing the duster had got him some puzzled looks. He’d just stared right back until the person staring looked away. After all, it was his business if he wanted to sit and cook, wasn’t it?

He sipped on the iced tea and stared at a group entering the cafe. Nothing. He knew who he was waiting for and by now he assumed that person knew he was waiting. In New Orleans, nothing stayed hidden for long.

And he wasn’t hiding by any means, so eventually his target would show.

He just hoped it was before he died of heat exhaustion.

He had obviously spent too many years up north with the Professor and the X-Men. New Orleans was his hometown, the place he loved more than anything, yet he had forgotten just how hot and humid the city could get. He figured his not remembering was like a lover not noticing an imperfection in a partner.

Suddenly behind him, Remy could sense a movement, a slight rustling of the bushes that formed a row along the

inside of the courtyard, as if a slight wind had brushed them. But the day was calm and the air thick and unmov-ing. And he had sat where he could watch all entrances, and no one had moved around behind him from the courtyard.

That meant that only another thief could be there, and a good one at that. And only one, besides himself, was that good, which meant his hoped-for guest had finally arrived.

“Sit,
moti ami,”
Remy said, not turning around, but indicating the empty chair beside him. He took another drink as beside him a figure pulled out a chair and sat down.

“I see you’re as good as always, LeBeau,” the thin, white-shirted figure said, sitting down and motioning for a waiter to bring him a tea.

Remy tipped his glass in a gesture of thanks at the compliment, then smiled at his friend, Claude deMont. “A very long time.”

And it had been a long time since LeBeau had last seen his childhood friend. The last time had been under very bad circumstances as Remy fought to get Bella, his wife, the elixir of life to save her. He had succeeded in saving her, but in the process had him several enemies. And with Bella not remembering him, the pain of the price he paid haunted him like a hunger that wouldn’t go away no matter how much he ate.

But since Claude had decided to join him, it appeared Claude was not one of those enemies.

The waiter served the iced tea to Claude, refilled

Remy’s glass, and left. For a moment they both sat silently, staring at the courtyard.

Then Claude spoke softly. ‘ ‘If I knew you were here, so does Bella.”

“De risks,” Remy said, and shrugged. “Worth it to see my oF friend.”

Claude shook his head slowly in amusement. Over the years he had done a lot of laughing at the risks Remy had taken. And Claude had shaken his head in amazement at what Remy had managed to accomplish. To Remy, it was always fun to amaze his old friend.

And this time Remy knew why Claude had such a reaction. Bella had become the leader recently of the Assassins Guild, the deadly enemies of thieves like Remy. And it seemed that Remy was at the top of her list.

“Besides,” Remy said, “Bella has herself some bigger problems den me.”

“Toole?” Claude said, letting the surprise come through in his voice. “You know?”

Remy only nodded.

Claude took another drink and then leaned forward slightly over the table. “Toole’s messin’ it all up, LeBeau. It’s like the old ways mean nothin’.”

“And de guilds can’t take him down,
hahnT
’

“Can’t get to him,” Claude said.

“Well,” Remy said, sipping on his iced tea. “Maybe it de time for someone to talk to de guy.”

Claude nodded. “Past time.”

“So?” Remy said, glancing over at Claude.

Claude sighed, then glanced around the courtyard while pretending to drink. Then he sat his glass down and told Remy what he wanted to hear.

“The old French Imports warehouse complex down on the river,” Claude said as if he was just talking about the weather. “It’s defended better than any military complex I’ve ever seen. None of us have managed to get inside. Two have died trying.”

Remy just nodded, then sipped on his tea.

Claude downed the rest of his tea and stood. ‘ ‘Good luck, LeBeau.”

“Merci beaucoup
,
mon ami”
Remy said.

Claude moved quickly across the courtyard and out onto the street beyond.

After a moment Remy stood and followed, moving slowly, as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Underneath, all he wanted to do was get out of the sun, into a cool room, and wait for the night to arri ve.

But he didn’t dare hurry.

At this moment, after sitting out in the open as long as he had, there were just too many risks. Before he could get into that cool room, he had to disappear and make absolutely sure no one was following.

It took him almost an hour.

One very long, very hot, hour.

Scott Summers, having changed into the blue-and-yellow uniform that identified him as Cyclops, co-leader of the X-Men, eased the
Blackbird
upward until it hovered above its pad behind the Xavier mansion. Then he turned it west and sent it forward, heading for the Juggernaut’s last known position.

The Professor’s stepbrother had been one of their greatest problems over the years, and today might be another of those fights that none of them seemed to win against Juggernaut. Scott sincerely hoped not.

“I’ll agree with you there,” Jean said from the copilot seat beside him, smiling.

The beautiful Phoenix had read his thoughts.

Scott smiled back at his wife as he eased the speed of the X-Men’s plane upward. He and Jean were so connected, in so many ways, that their thoughts were linked by Jean’s power almost automatically. He liked it that way, and he knew she did, too. There were many times over the years that the link between them had saved their lives.

She reached across and rested her hand on his arm, letting the physical touch add to the mental. With Jean at his side, he felt whole.

Again Scott smiled at her, then returned his thoughts to the mission ahead.

Behind them, in the right seat, was Dr. Henry McCoy—Hank to his friends, the Beast to the general public. The blue-furred Hank had been spending days, and nights lately, wrapped up in his lab, working frantically to find a cure for the deadly Legacy Virus, a virus that had been introduced into the world by the madman Stryfe. It primarily attacked mutants, but had recently spread into the human population. Hank had redoubled his efforts of late, following the death of a young boy named Walter Now-land, who had died at the Xavier Institute’s sister school,