The Jewels of Cyttorak (7 page)
Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters in Massachusetts.
But so far, even the brilliance of the smartest X-Man couldn’t crack the cure. And the frustration was driving the doctor to slamming his fist against things, not a typical gesture for him.
So when this opportunity to check up on the Juggernaut came along, Scott figured it would be a good time to get Hank some air. Let the good doctor’s nerves recharge a little. And against the Juggernaut, it never hurt to have Hank along.
Hank hadn’t exactly been pleased with the interruption, but he hadn’t really objected that hard, either. It seemed he knew that Scott was right.
Behind Scott sat Rogue, the fourth X-Man on the flight. She wore her brown flight jacket over her green-and-yellow X-Men uniform. She’d brushed her hair back and upward, making the white streak in her auburn hair even more prominent. As the plane climbed and leveled off she just stared out the side window, her attention clearly miles away.
And Scott knew why. Since Gambit had left for New Orleans, she’d been feeling lost. When Jean mentioned the flight to check up on the Juggernaut, she’d volunteered to go along. Anything to keep her mind a little busy and off of her feelings for the Cajun.
But at the moment it didn’t look as if it was working.
“Well,” Scott said, “this shouldn’t take long. Last report had Juggernaut crossing the border into New York about halfway up the state line.”
‘ ‘Any idea what set the big guy off this time?” Rogue asked, still staring out at the passing green valleys.
“Nothing,” Jean said.
“Based on our experiences with Mr. Marko,” Hank said, ‘ ‘it would take little, if any, outside stimulus to precipitate an event of this nature.”
“Well,” Scott said, turning the
Blackbird
slightly downward toward the farms and rolling hills of central New York, “he isn’t exactly covering his tracks.” Scott pointed ahead.
“Oh my stars and garters,” Hank said, leaning forward slightly to see past Jean’s shoulder.
Scott agreed.
A white, two-story farm house had been knocked down completely and there was a Juggernaut-sized hole in the side of a nearby red bam. A small stand of trees had a path knocked down through them beyond the bam. Scott just hoped the family in the house was all right.
“Me, too,” Jean said, reading his thoughts. “I’ll see if I can find out.”
As Scott turned the
Blackbird
slightly to follow the line of destruction, Jean stared out the window at the farmhouse, taking in the thoughts of those below. After a moment she sighed and said, “They’re all alive,” she said. “And very angry.”
“They got a right to be angry,” Rogue said, staring back at the destruction the Juggernaut had caused. “He’s destroyed their home.”
“There he is,” Scott said.
Ahead of them the Juggernaut pounded one foot in front of another across an open field, taking giant, distance-eating strides. It was amazing to Scott how fast he could travel on the ground. The Juggernaut never tired
X-MEH
and never stopped for anything, basically moving as the crow flies, only on the ground.
The problem was that he went over or through anything in his way.
‘ ‘I would recommend not landing the
Blackbird
in his path,” Hank said. ‘‘It might not be a propitious location for the health of our transportation.”
'‘Agreed,” Scott said, swinging the
Blackbird
in a high arc over Juggernaut and landing the plane softly a good half a mile ahead and off to one side of the behemoth’s path.
“We’re not to engage him right away,” Scott said. “We’ll try to talk to him first. Jean, you and I will pace him to his right. Rogue, you take Hank and stay with him on his left.”
“Understood,” Hank said.
Rogue nodded.
“Let’s go, X-Men,” Scott said.
Without another word they climbed out of the
Blackbird
and took up positions facing the unstoppable Juggernaut heading their way.
It had taken Robert Service Jr. most of the morning to get some clothes his new size ordered, then delivered to the estate. His proportions had completely changed—not just six inches of height but considerably more bulk. It had cost a great deal to have it done, but he didn’t have much choice at the moment. He needed the clothes. And he had the money.
About twenty minutes after Gary had left, Robert suddenly felt as if he didn’t have much time. The big, red creature was getting closer and the pain was growing slightly. He needed to get out of there, head west, find the second part of the emerald. It was like an aching need and he really had no desire to deny the drive.
Nor any reason to.
He strode across the grounds of his family estate and into the hangar beside the private runway, enjoying the speed his new stride and power gave him. He bet there were many things about being this powerful he was going to enjoy.
“Is the plane ready?” he said as he entered the large hanger. His voice boomed over the metal and concrete like a thunderclap.
The two pilots of the private jet jumped to their feet from positions in a small lounge. They both just stared at him, fear slowly filling their eyes.
“Sorry, gentlemen,” he said, lowering his voice to what seemed to be a whisper to his ears. “Still not used to the new lungs.”
The pilot, a thin, graying man by the name of Harold Trimble, had been working for the Service family for almost ten years. He was the first to finally get his voice after swallowing twice. “What happened to you?”
“Just a little growth hormone,” Robert said, and laughed. Again his voice boomed around the hanger and the two men’s eyes widened. The young copilot actually took a step back and looked like he wanted to run.
“Sorry,” Robert said, whispering. “I’ll get the hang of this new voice sooner or later.”
Both men just nodded, but Robert could tell they didn’t look any less afraid of him. And that was just fine, as far as he was concerned. It never hurt to have employees afraid of their boss. Robert figured it added an extra level of work and care to an employee’s performance. “Is the plane ready?”
Harold nodded slowly. “Yes, sir.”
“Good,” Robert whispered. “Let’s get in the air. And just head west, say for San Francisco. I’ll tell you along the way if we need to change directions.”
Harold and the young copilot both nodded.
Robert turned and climbed into the jet, barely fitting in the seat. He finally managed to find a comfortable position on the large leather couch. After all this was settled and his father was dead, he’d have to get a larger plane. This one just wouldn’t do for a man of his size.
And power.
With the last thought he once again laughed softly to himself.
Cain Marko’s chest still hurt, but the closer he got to upper New York State, the better it felt. It was as if the pain was dragging him there like he was nothing more than a stupid homing pigeon. As a kid he had hated to be bossed around. Now that he was the Juggernaut, he was powerful enough that no one could do that to him anymore. But now the pain in his chest was like a nagging boss, forcing him onward. And the farther he went, the angrier he got.
n
Whatever was causing this pain was going to be real sorry, real soon. He hadn’t been this mad in years.
The roar of the X-Men’s plane over his head distracted him.
That’s all
/
need now,
he thought,
my stepbrother’s students buzzing around me like flies, doing their do-gooder deeds.
Most likely they were going to try to stop him.
That just wasn’t going to happen.
The X-Men’s plane landed off to one side of his path up ahead.
Four X-Men climbed out and Cain recognized them as Cyclops, Phoenix, Rogue, and the Beast. The latter two moved to a safe distance to the right of his path and stood waiting.
On the other side of his path Summers and Grey floated side by side.
Fine. Let them just float there. He wasn’t stopping for them now or any time in the future. He’d just walk right between them and take their best shots and keep going. At the moment they weren’t even worth his time.
But as he went between them they surprised him. They simply floated along beside him, pacing his speed across the empty field.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, turning to look at the pair without stopping. “Nothing better to do on a hot summer day than bother a man on his own business?”
“Actually, Cain,” Summers said, “just wondering why you’re tearing up all this real estate.”
“Taking a train would clearly be less taxing,” McCoy said from the other side of Cain. ‘ And far less damaging to the local flora.”
X-MEH
Cain glared at the blue ball of fur and simply got a shrug and a smile in return.
“Look,” Cain said, turning his head to look at Summers without missing a step on his journey, “just leave me alone. I got something I need to do and you and that creepy stepbrother of mine can’t help me or stop me. All right?” '
“Fine by us,” Summers said. “But just tell us why the hurry and all the destruction?”
Cain snorted. “You really want to know, one-eye? It’s because something up ahead of me there is causing me pain. And I don’t much like pain.”
“Two aspirins seem to work on most pains,” McCoy
said.
Cain took a swipe at him without breaking stride, but missed.
Suddenly the pain in his chest grew worse, in a way he’d come to know meant he was going in the wrong direction.
“What?” he said aloud. He stopped and turned slightly to the north.
No change. The pain remained.
‘ ‘Cain?” Summers said, floating off to one side with Grey. “What happened?”
“Would you stop your yapping for a minute,” Cain said. “Give me a chance to figure this out.”
Thankfully they did as he asked.
He turned slightly south. Again no change in the pain radiating in his chest.
He turned farther south. Nothing.
Then even farther, so that he was facing slightly west.
And the pain seemed lighter.
He turned all the way around to the west and the pain lightened. Either he had passed what was causing
hi
m pain, or it had changed position, going west of where he now stood.
He growled real low in his throat, then started back in the direction he’d just came. The thing causing him this pain was going to pay, and pay good. And it couldn’t run forever. At some point he’d catch up to it.
“Cain?” Summers said. “What just happened?”
But Cain said nothing, only put his head down and headed west, ignoring whatever got in his way.
The rolling hills, trees, and farms gave the central New York area a feeling of serenity most summer afternoons. Light breezes swirled the humid afternoon air, giving farmers reasons to keep windows open for a hope of that slight, windy comfort.
But on this summer afternoon there was a path of destruction into those peaceful fields. A path that had gone only so far and then suddenly stopped.
Four X-Men stood in the open field at the point where the Juggernaut had just suddenly turned around, watching as he stomped off west, following his own tracks back in the direction he’d come.
Phoenix watched him go, wishing more than ever that she could read the Juggernaut’s thoughts. Just for an instant, just to get a clue as to what was driving him. But his helmet effectively blocked any attempts she made, making her feel as if she were staring at a blank wall inside her head every time she tried.
‘ ‘What was that all about?’ ’ Rogue asked.
“Worst case of decision-interruptus I have ever seen,” Hank said.
Scott shook his head. “Rogue, keep an eye on his path ahead, make sure there isn’t anything else in his path that might cause problems if he decides to plow through it.”
“Right, boss,” she said. “Back in a jiff.”
She waved at the Juggernaut as she went over him, then sped off in a green-and-yellow streak.
X-MCN
The Juggernaut paid her no attention at all, simply kept walking, one pounding step after another.
“I’ll report to the Professor,” Jean said to Scott and Hank. “Tell him what happened.”
Scott only nodded.
Professor?
She focused on Charles Xavier and his dark study, blocking out the warm afternoon around her and sending her thoughts to him.
Yes, Jean.
The Professor’s voice came back clear and strong inside her mind.
I can read from your thoughts what happened. I, too, am baffled as to the cause.
Should we just follow him for the moment, maybe talk to him again?
Yes,
the Professor said.
But do not engage him unless you need to do so to save lives. As long as he is content to simply walk, we will minimize the ancillary effects. Engaging him will only result in much greater damage.
Understood.
The Professor broke the link in Jean’s mind, leaving a slightly empty sense for a brief instant.
She turned to Scott and for Hank’s sake spoke aloud. “The Professor wants us to follow Cain, but not try to stop him unless lives are at stake. And if we can, talk to him again.”