“It spurred a burst of Totem-manifestations all around the planet. There were badgers, wolves, and buffalo in the Tribal lands; bees, pandas, and storks in China; tigers, cobras, and bats in India; ants, lions, panthers, crocodiles, hyenas, and apes in Africa; wasps, constrictors, and parrots in South America, and so forth and so on. Oh, and bears in Russia AND the Tribal lands, surprise, surprise.”
“Scorpions?” I asked archly.
“Arabia, Egypt.”
I did NOT say anything about that being appropriate for certain radicals there and the pantheon there. “Nothing aquatic?”
“There may have been orca, whale, shark, or other manifestations in some of the more barbaric tribes of Atlanteans, but they’ve always been sketchy with their information exchanges. In the Pacific or other oceans, anything could have happened.” Clark could only shrug.
With no more Deviants in Lemuria, basically there were no active aquatic races in the Pacific or Indian Oceans. The Atlanteans simply weren’t populous enough to expand readily and take over the massive territory, although some tribes had migrated simply to use the new hunting grounds. If they were willing to work with us, they could become official Custodians of the areas, too...
“I gather Warlock recruitment is up among the Totems...”
“Weeeeell, the Spiders aren’t, but yes, we’re seeing recruitment levels spike a bit. The consensus is that the amount of magical power around is encouraging the Totems to become more active,” Clark relayed.
“What’s Wakanda’s take on the matter?”
“Seeing it as a sign that Wakanda needs to expand. There are already tribal envoys going out to neighboring tribes, seeing if they might want to put old grudges aside now that the Spirits have spoken. T’Challa doesn’t think there’ll be a lot of success, but those who want to learn, especially the women, may join up directly. Having Africa’s most active goddess for a spouse does tend to help in that regard,” he observed knowingly.
“Yes, and the other nations all accuse him of stealing their best and brightest, who they don’t bother to educate anyway.” I knew all the arguments concerning the African tribal politics, Storm pouring them into me whenever we linked up. Messy, dumb stuff keeping them from greatness because their neighbors had more cows than they did. “Just wonderful. Anything else?”
“Apocalypse has claimed an island in the South Pacific, and is declaring it a haven for mutants.”
I slapped my forehead. “Don’t tell me; he’s already declared war on Genosha?” I wasn’t surprised Sama and Briggs had given him permission to return, due to his continuing contributions against the Zoners. He fulfilled his obligations, and had earned back some respect and consideration in return for his service.
Clark’s face was grim. “No offense, Dyna, but the High Guard would just sit and watch if he did.” The opportunistic little nation the Crux were backing was the poster child of anti-mutant bias, enslaving their entire mutant population for the benefit of the normal humans of the country.
Despite everything, I narrowed my eyes and Looked down that way, getting a Cosmic Awareness eyeful of the misery and degradation of the born Powered down there. Angel’s jealous childhood friend Cameron Hodge was actually heading it up, a cyberized twat using Mechanar’s tech and not even human anymore.
“How much money do we have in the shadow funds?” I asked Clark.
He pursed his lips. “A few billion, I believe.”
I held up a finger. -Master Lensherr, is New Israel accepting mutant refugees at this time?- I /asked the Master of Magnetism directly.
He wasn’t slow to understand or respond. -From Genosha, or in general? Never mind, the Great Bear will take any mutants of decent character who seek to emigrate, no different from any Inhumans, and New Israel tends to be their choice of relocation. Or are you thinking of moving them to Venus?-
-Not at all, I’d rather the conflict stay right at home instead of stirring up more xenophobes crying kidnapping and slavery. Care to pay a bounty for mutants freed from Genosha? The High Guard will back you.- There were immediate /assents from all the rest of the High Guard listening in.
-Extralegal actions and underground railroads not backed by any specific government,- Erik /smiled. -Any particulars?-
-Mr. Hill and some of the boys got no love for slavery, and they always have bills to pay.-
-Isn’t he like a billionaire now?- Carol /asked curiously.
-If you’re talking to him, you’d swear he’s got ten credits in his bank account. I don’t think he really thinks it’s money unless he earns it with his own two hands... not that anyone better threaten his businesses!- Dealer /chimed in from somewhere.
-How long before we break that damn Genoshan gene-locking?- I /asked out there.
-Give us a week or two. If someone can get us samples of their encoding tech, tomorrow!- Hank McCoy promptly /responded, seconded by Peter Parker and Sue Richards.
-Felicia, Natalya, get a stealth team and make some extralegal acquisitions of their mutant-slaving tech. If you happen to blow up what you can’t take, commiserate over wine later.- The two /nodded assent and immediately set to conniving.
-Mr. Hill, I’ve got an open contract for you... Master Lensherr, what’s it paying?-
-A hundred thousand rubles per liberated mutant, plus any incidental expenses,- Magneto /replied promptly.
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
-Ho, sounds like my kinda gig,- The Mountain /responded grimly. -Where at?-
-Genosha. Preferably before Apocalypse gets there.-
-Give me the intelligence, and let me borrow the brains of Cap’n Harold. I’ll bring in the boys. Ask the goddess for some messy weather, always helps these things.- He still called the Shielder who’d commanded the Brutes during the War ‘Captain’, as did basically that whole company of multispecies headbashers, and they all kept in touch with him. If they were running a reasonably moral op, Harold was generally available to help them out, too, and as a result was probably the single most-traveled Shielder out there, going all over the damn universe with mercenary contracts, particularly against Zoner races.
I knew, because I vetted the mercenary contracts he’d go on them with, and often ‘ported him out to the Colosseum.
-It IS the rainy season,- Storm /broke in thoughtfully.
-Would I be out of place to say I hope they come and try forcibly to retrieve their ‘national assets’?- Master Lensherr /smiled darkly.
-Could they be that stupid?- Carol had to /ask. -Please don’t answer that!-
We all knew that they could. If they dared to go into the Great Bear’s territory, Briggs would simply withdraw his restraining hand, which they didn’t even know was protecting them, and Apocalypse would swoop in and obliterate them, knowing no one was going to stop him.
Genosha’s glorious time as the ‘human sanctuary’ of the world was going to be very limited once its sins came home to haunt it.
As for Apocalypse’s new ‘mutant nation’ of Krakatoa, that was also going to be stirring up all kinds of racist shit, which the ‘mutant savior’ totally didn’t give a damn about, and if it stirred up human supremist fervor in return, fanning the flames of extremism and helping to threaten the planet, he totally did not care much, either. He’d been out among the stars, fighting for aliens, and if he wanted a safe place to come home to, he was determined to make one.
Working the Annihilation Wave hadn’t really opened his mind, except maybe to how small he was in the general order of things. On the other hand, he knew he couldn’t really defend a planet and its people, or he’d likely have just whisked them all off to a new world somewhere and built a racist kingdom in the stars. Having the big hand of Briggs and the power of the Pentad Alliance drawing an umbrella over him worked just fine for him.
Of course, we could just send Nathan Summers over to mess with him. The former merc was having too much fun in Cynosure right now, however, to play the mutant savior. He was really involved in the Moondragon Mystics and helping people gain telepathy.
“Anything else?” I asked Clark as we strolled through the hangar area, waving at people we knew.
“Normal everyday wild and crazy stuff,” he waved his hand absently, both of us just sighing in acceptance. “It’s on the daily log reports. I assume you’re tracking most of the bigger stuff, although I’m pretty sure DiDi kept you out of the loop on the Spider stuff deliberately. In the middle of messing with cosmic beings and all that.”
“She probably thought I didn’t need the headache of knowing there was a demon queen or something down there while the fate of universe hangs overhead, woe be me.”
“Uncle Piotr totally laughs when he reads your reports, you know,” he whispered to me.
“Well, I do write them to be entertaining, instead of boring. The Prime Protector of the Pentad needs something funny in his life.”
“The last time we chatted he told me his sensitivity to, resistance to, and how much he was fed up with bullshitness were all increasing roughly in tandem.”
“Oh, the perils of politics for our poor Primus. Plenipotentiary pursuits prescribed repeatedly, probably?”
Clark the Fifth laughed softly. “There are ops running all over the galaxy all the time, but you know that. So many grasping hands wanting to ride the Pentad’s coat-tails for minimum cost...”
“Or no cost at all.” The longer Primus worked the position, naturally the better he got at it. The races trying to get alliances with us to their advantage had no idea what a fearsome negotiator they were speed-training as his insight into the psychology of other species deepened with every contact. “We are such primitive barbarian hicks in space, hur hur hur!” I rolled my shoulders ape-like, and he guffawed.
“Well, it does help that our homeworld is such a messed-up place, and everyone knows it. The others in the Alliance certainly sell the charade, too.”
“Yes, yes. Exceptional individuals, average hairy barbarians. How’s that special project turning out?”
He beamed. “Wonderfully. Actually, I think Miss Creel is just finishing up addressing them. Would you like to see them?”
“Sure! Won’t even go cosmic and peep first.” I liked my surprises where I could get them.
------
Not a one of them had been over five-foot-two. They came from all ethnicities, as it was a particular gene-combo tied to being short among a taller strain of humans that made the process actually work. Doom had totally lucked into choosing the right effect when he treated her the first time, aided by the fact the tech was inundated with Beyonder energy and so warped reality to achieve the desired result, thereby setting in stone that it was possible. Discovering the how and why and replicating it was a teensy widdle bit harder.
Basically, there was no way Doom could have failed at the time, but he didn’t know that, and so naturally had thought it was all his own genius. The fact he’d been unable to replicate it at home with other ‘volunteers’, all of whom had to be disposed of after increasingly messy failures, was definitely not something he’d let the rest of the world know about... but Briggs had known, of course...
But that was Doom. He would have been totally incensed to know the Titania Process was working just fine now, Felicia having finished working the kinks out of the process and who was eligible to receive it.
The room beyond was full of extremely tall and muscular women, an even one hundred new recruits. The least of them was six and a half feet tall, ranging all the way up to seven feet, the shortest of them ending up the tallest, it seemed.
With super-strength, there was none of the ‘stretchiness’ normally associated with being so tall, and they were all Amazonian in size, stature, and figure, and clearly loving it.
Sgt. Mary Creel, aka Titania, was mixing with them all, giving them practical advice for being that tall and strong. Reinforced beds, being careful with doorknobs and showers, being real careful with any clothes bought in stores before they were treated with unstable molecules, etcetera and so forth.
The other problem was probably going to be finding men who could still look them in the eye and wouldn’t break if handled roughly, but that was a separate issue. Plenty of Ultracorpsmen who wouldn’t break around, at the least.
“That is a very impressive sight,” Clark declared from the vantage where we were looking down on them. “All the strength ratings are 75 tons and higher, invulnerability, endurance, the whole Brick package. Titanic soldiers of the first order, I suppose you could say?”
“A good alternative for no core,” I agreed. “That one in a million genetics indicator is still a big stretch, but that’s okay. How’s the Ionic treatment coming along?”
“The genetic tolerance is even rarer, and three-quarters male dominant, from what we can discern. So, we won’t be flooding the world with Wonder Men. However, those who are eligible are basically solid energy forms and immortal, so we are going to have to be very careful with who we offer it to. They’ll be around a long time.”
I nodded once. Just because you were powered by ionic energy didn’t make you mentally stable.
But, we were diversifying treatments that could activate the dormant X-genes of humanity. The Moondragon Mysteries were by far the most effective of those, but everyone wanted super-powers without the inherent randomness of most mutants.
Slowly, slowly...