Chapter 3
Jean sped through the woods, nearing the source of that terrible psychic cry. She had to temper her speed at times in the thick woods, but she thought she was making good progress. Up ahead, the hill seemed to slope down-yes, there was definitely a small gorge up there. And another hill beyond.
She made her way past a grove of birch trees, and saw a clearing up ahead. Yes, this was the place... And there! Jean saw some movement ahead-yes, definitely a figure. Starting to move down the hill. Jean let herself down, and ran towards the clearing.
"Please!" she called out. "Don't run! I mean you no harm!" She saw the figure pause, and stop. Slowly, as Jean approached, the figure turned and faced her. It took a step towards her, and reached out a hand. Jean froze, and heard herself gasp.
"Hi. You're Marvel Girl, right?" a voice emerging from the figure said. "Pleased to meet you."
Jean Grey saw a tall shape that she instinctively realized was feminine. She-it-no, "she"!-was impossible to describe, because she was constantly shifting. When Jean first saw her, she appeared to be made of dark sand, or perhaps grainy dirt. But even as she watched, the figure seemed to switch forms, to take on the appearance of the birch trees nearby and looked like she had a white trunk, with two branches sticking out of her upper body and twigs for fingers. She then appeared to be made of water, and then salt, then diamond, then she looked like molten steel, then she appeared as, of all things, Frankenstein's monster, then even as a tall, brick-skinned female version of the Thing. And always, as this process went on, her right hand remained outstretched, as if waiting for Jean to take hold of it. She was dressed in simple rags, little more than a loin cloth and a makeshift bikini top. And on her face-what could be described as a "face"-there was something terrible, something that Jean thought might be a smile, but couldn't be too sure of. That face-! It was a horror, in all the incarnations of the young mutant-it took on the characteristics of each of her forms, but the features seemed to be melting each time she shifted, and put back on without time for them to "dry". There was an almost cartoonish quality to her face, in all the changes Jean saw, that reminded her almost of a harlequin mask-with that same, awful "smile" painted on every one of them.
"What's the matter. Marvel Girl?" the figure said, in a voice that sounded similar in all of the permutations-similar, but not identical. It wasn't a loud voice, but it carried-Jean felt that that voice would reach her innermost soul, would follow her to heaven or hell. Sometimes it sounded almost "liquid", when the figure took on the form of water, or even trees or other fauna-a voice that Jean realized was in some sense "natural", of the earth, and spoke of fertility and nurturing. Other times, when she took the form of earth or steel or concrete, the voice, while still carrying, while still somehow the same voice, sounded harsher, unsentimental-"surgical", was the word that came to Jean's mind. Looking at this girl, at the shifting forms and that voice, she realized in an instant that this mutant was as formidable as Magneto in her way...and as full of love and compassion as Jean herself, though she would not have put it exactly like that. But the fact was what mattered, and Jean instantly felt a wave of love for this girl that she couldn't explain, but knew instinctively, like she knew her own name and identity.
Jean stepped forward and took the hand. The figure had stopped shifting, and had stabilized into the shape she had first appeared as: looking like dark sand or grainy dirt, her face incomplete with that "melting" quality, unable to quite get into focus except for a brilliant pair of hazel eyes. Jean found herself lost in those eyes-they were eyes that missed nothing, that saw right into your soul. Jean wondered what judgments they were making about her, and realized that that question was an important one to her.
"Yes," she said. "I'm Marvel Girl. And I'm proud to know you." She suddenly found herself taking this figure into her arms, because she couldn't think of a reason on earth not to. The mutant's hands had been rough, like sandpaper. Jean looked into her amazing eyes. "This-this is your natural form, isn't it?"
"What's the matter, Marvel Girl?" Maria had asked, as she was Shifting. It had been a long time since she Shifted this like this, into so many different forms so quickly. She felt like she was ruffling a deck of cards. She almost laughed out loud. This beautiful red-haired girl-! Well, she-they-had wanted to meet her! And here was their chance! Maria stopped Shifting, and Marvel Girl came forward to take her hand. "Yes," she said. "I'm Marvel Girl. And I'm proud to know you." The other girl suddenly came up to her, and to Maria's astonishment took her in her arms. Marvel Girl looked right into her eyes, and Maria gave a mental gasp. Those eyes! Bright green, like jewels. Maria had never seen eyes like that. They looked steadily at her, with total honesty and no revulsion, not even a hint of Torches and Pitchforks. Well, from a fellow mutant, perhaps that wasn't so surprising. But what Maria also understood in that instant was that this girl had no desire whatever to use her. She remembered her father, Essex, even the carny and Gunther and Carmella...the Brotherhood...
Maria suddenly found herself hoping. Stop it, dammit! Just stop! You know this does you no good! But her mental protests were useless, because there it was. Looking at this girl, Maria instantly felt a rush of something she realized was-well-"love". OK, she had said it to herself. Dopey. Unworthy of someone as tough, as street-smart, as she was. Making herself vulnerable. Soft. Setting herself up. Mom. Daddy. Essex. Magneto. All the Torches and Pitchforks. Cut it out, Gianelli. You know this can't have any good ending.
"This-this is your natural form, isn't it?" Marvel Girl asked, and Maria shook her head briskly.
"Not necessarily," she answered. Suddenly, she appeared as a figure of ice, the same mocking smile on her face. "Maybe this is, Marvel Girl. How's that for a coincidence?"
The other girl paused for a second. "You can't keep any of these forms for very long, can you? Eventually, you'll revert back to your 'real' self."
Maria grunted, and did Shift back to her basic self. "That's good. That's very good. So I wasn't convincing as Ice Girl?"
"Not very," Marvel Girl answered. "It would have been too much of a coincidence-though Bo-I mean, Iceman, would have been delighted. No. I can just tell that this is you." She paused for a second. "I sensed such pain from you earlier-you're all right?"
Damn Frank. His showing up-making me react like that- Maria shut her eyes, brushed her sandpaper-like "hair" with a rough hand. Damn him for giving me hope. I like this girl. How much longer can this go on, without me surrendering one way or another? She looked into those green eyes, and for a brief instant Maria Gianelli was frightened. There had been-something-she had seen there, something more-than-human...indeed, more-than-mutant. Instinctively, Maria realized-though she didn't know how she knew this-that this Marvel Girl bore burdens that dwarfed hers. Or at least, that she potentially did. In that instant, Maria felt herself yielding even more. This poor kid. She's going to need help someday.
All she said aloud was, "I'm all right. I don't need any help."
Marvel Girl put her hand on Maria's shoulder. "We all need help. All of us, without exception. Please-you can reject me, reject us, if that's your free choice. We won't force ourselves upon you. But what I sensed in that moment of communion I had, when you called out-all the loneliness and despair-is that what you really want?"
Maria looked off into space, into infinity. That was a good question, actually. What did she want? If she rejected this girl, all that she offered-and Maria understood already that if she accepted this offer to go with the X-Men, she and this Marvel Girl would become intimate, would bond tightly together. Both of them felt it, this turning point in their lives. Maria realized that she couldn't fake this, that she had to be absolutely honest with herself and with this girl. She might not accept, but she could not lie.
Jean could tell that something had changed in this girl, that her hostility had vanished for some reason. That made Jean warier than ever-but also, paradoxically, less wary too, afraid that she might do or say the wrong thing, but also realizing that only total transparecy and honesty could help her now. She found herself removing her mask.
"My name is Jean Grey," she said when her face was bared to the other girl. "And I'm so happy to know you."
The other girl looked at Jean steadily with those amazing hazel eyes. "Hello, Jean Grey," she said. "My name is Maria Gianelli." And she held out her hand again, not sarcastically this time, but in-if not yet friendship-at least in something Jean realized was hope. Jean grabbed her hand in both of hers, and tried to put as much warmth and love as she could into the gesture.
"Maria," Jean said. "A beautiful name. Maria-I don't know if you'll join the X-Men. Right now, I don't care. But I do know that whatever happens, I'll always be here for you. You can always turn to me. Even if the whole world is against you."
She saw something appear underneath the eyes on that ravaged, grainy face that if Jean didn't know better might have interpreted as tears. "I believe you, Jean Grey," Maria said. "You know I do, don't you?"
"Yes," Jean said. "I knew you would from the moment I heard you call, from out here in the wilderness. And I knew in that moment that I loved you. I knew just how much love you have to give. Underneath all the pain and despair-and there's been so much of that, hasn't there?"
It was too much for Maria. Everything-her early life, her mutation at thirteen, her betrayal by her parents, her nearly being sold into slavery, the years of roaming the earth as a monster, and now in sudden succession Frank and Jean Grey-it was too much. She found herself sitting on the ground, sobbing uncontrollably. She sensed rather than felt, or heard, the other girl's arms around her, her beautiful voice-alto, a bit raspy but so totally hers-calling out, saying things that Maria couldn't afterwards remember, but having their effect nonetheless. Finally, Maria put her hand out to Jean's.
"I'm OK," she said. "No, Jean, really-I'm OK." And indeed, Maria stood up and looked again right into the eyes of the other girl. "I am a morph. That is my mutant power. I do not regard my physiognomy as a 'power'-it is simply my appearance, and the things I can do in this form are simply part of me, like my arms and legs. In this state, I am composed mostly of silicon. There is of course enough carbon in this state-and in all of them-for my life to be possible. As far as I know, I can morph into basically anything I want. I have no idea whatever how this is possible, but then, I doubt that few mutants-if any-have any idea how their powers work." She paused, and looked at a stone about twenty feet away. She reached out with her grainy arm, and extended it until it reached the stone. Maria pulled it back to her. "I should say this stone weighs about five pounds." She extended her hand around it, and slowly squeezed. The stone was reduced quickly to powder, and Maria let it seep slowly out of her hand. "In this state, I am exceptionally strong. How strong, I don't really know. I've never had much call to use my powers the way you people do-that is, in combat. And I deliberately go out of my way to avoid showing off my strength-I just use it if I need to, and as little as possible then."
Jean had listened quietly to this speech, nodding slightly. "Do you retain your shape-changing powers, and your strength, when you change conditions?"
Maria nodded. "I call it Shifting-with a capital 'S'. And it depends. I can shape-shift in my fluid conditions-for instance, water. But in that state, I have no super-strength. I cannot shape-shift when I am in my 'hard' states-like diamond, for instance. I could not reach out to that stone as I just did. But I am exceptionally strong in that state-just how much so, I have no idea. I have avoided trying to find out." She paused slightly. "The fact is, I'm afraid to find out. I do not want to be too powerful. I am afraid that if I were as powerful as I suspect I am, that would make me so overwhelmingly valuable to some faction or other that I couldn't keep out of the whole business any longer."
Jean nodded, as if the logic of this were obvious. "If you do decide to join us, the Professor will make tests to find the limits of your powers. There'd be no more hiding your head in the sand-if you'll excuse the expression." Maria laughed out loud. Jean smiled, and went on. "Maria-I've found that the truth is the only thing that will help us. You may or may not join us. But I do know one thing-you will no longer be able to avoid the truth. I think you've known this, suspected it, for a long time now. That you've been putting off the day when you have to face the truth."
Maria flinched. Well, this was honesty. She had committed herself to it. And she was hearing it from Jean. From this girl whom she already loved like the sister she had never had. And in realizing that, she realized everything.
"Jean," she said, framing her hands around Jean's face-that beautiful face, those green eyes-Maria was losing herself in those eyes. Jean looked up into Maria's own eyes. "Jean-this 'Professor' of yours. You trust him?"
"Implicitly," Jean answered. "With my life. I have done so, many times. As have all of us."
Maria nodded. "And the others? You trust all of them too?"
Jean nodded, but Maria noticed the slightest flush come into the other girl's face. Well, well. How interesting. I'll have to find out which one of them it is. "Of course, Maria. We depend upon each other totally. We have become a team, and as such, call upon each other. We trust each other completely."
"And what is it the X-Men stand for, Jean?"
Jean considered this. She could tell her what Professor Xavier said, of working towards a world in which human and mutant could live together in peace. And she knew that Maria would respect this. But somehow, Jean also knew that that wasn't exactly what this girl wanted to hear from her. Her answer came out of her without conscious thought.
"We stand for each other, Maria," she said. "We have been soldiers in a harsh world-and soldiers, while they might have an ideology, don't fight for that. They fight for their friends and loved ones, at bottom, or they don't fight at all. And that is what we stand for, Maria Gianelli."
Maria took Jean's hands in hers. "That is a good answer, Jean Grey. There is no bullshit in it. And that is what I want. To stand with others, who will stand with me. Unconditionally. If you and your Professor will take me, I am ready to stand with you."
Jean looked into Maria's hazel eyes, those eyes she was already learning to swim in, those eyes that highlighed that strange face that wasn't a face, and she hugged the other girl and burst into tears. She could hear Maria crying as well, in that gravelly voice of hers.
Charles Xavier had reached the other X-Men, and they were on the way. But he felt that the crisis had passed by now, though why he felt this he couldn't be certain. Perhaps it was a residue from Jean's mind, though he was holding to his promise not to follow her psychically. He almost felt himself beginning to relax.
He looked at the grid. The Angel would arrive first, with the other three following not long afterwards. He could tell just from the grid that Jean and the mutant they were chasing had been in the same spot for some little while now. That was a good sign-at least they were talking. He began, ever so cautiously, to hope.
At that moment, Cerebro went berserk. A shrill cry emerged from it, and Charles looked with a start at the new figure on the grid, heading right for where Jean and the new mutant were. And he saw from the identification software just whom this intruder was- My God.
Forgetting his promise to Jean, forgetting everything, he emitted a sudden terrible clarion call with his mind. Jean! Jean! You're in danger! You must flee at once!
But it was too late. This new figure on the grid had already reached the spot, moving at a speed even the Angel couldn't match. Charles Xavier felt a sick pang of fear.
Jean gave Maria a crooked smile. "Well-I guess I say, 'welcome to the X-Men'. OK. Welcome to the X-Men!"
Maria hugged her again. At that moment, every fear she had ever had seemed washed away like the sand at high tide. Was this what "happiness" felt like? Well-who knew? She could get used to this.
"I'm honored. Thank you."
They looked at each other and suddenly giggled like schoolgirls-which of course they were, Maria thought with a sense of absurdity. Me. A real student. I can't believe it. She sensed the decision that she was about to make, and felt astonishment. Was she really going to do this? This, the deepest secret of all? Yes, she damned well was. It was amazing, this sudden shedding of every fear she had spent the past four years accumulating. Maybe this was what making a commitment felt like. Well-it felt damned good.
"Jean."
"Yes, Maria," Jean answered, suddenly alert.
"There's something I want you to know. But only you. None of the other X-Men, not your Professor, no one. Just you and me."
Jean took her hand. "Absolutely."
"Won't the Professor sense it in your mind? Will you be able to shield it?"
"If you can, I can. Yes. I can. I will. He'll respect this."
Maria shut her eyes. Well, here we go. She stepped back a few feet from Jean, turned around and removed her ragged clothes. Jean saw her go into another Shift-
"Oh!" she gasped. Her eyes flew open, with her hands at her mouth. "Oh my God!" Standing before her suddenly, arms raised above her head, was a young goddess. A good six feet tall, long, flowing black hair-so black it looked blue-a voluptuous figure. A face of exceptional classic Mediterranean beauty, capped with those amazing hazel eyes. She looked at Jean with a totally open smile.
"This is my deepest secret, Jean Grey," the goddess before her said in a voice that pained Jean, it was so clear and beautiful. "No one on earth knows this but me-and now, you. Not even my brother. This is whom I might have been. But it is not who I am."
"Oh, Maria!" Jean cried out, rushing forward to embrace this beauty, this vision. "Oh, my God!"
"God must have a sense of humor," Maria said, feeling this other girl's arms around her, sensing her love and compassion, this other girl with her own astonishing beauty whom Maria already loved.
Jean looked at her with tears in her eyes. "And you can't-?"
"Sustain my shape?" Maria asked gently. Jean just nodded.
"No," Maria said, shaking her head. "Jean-this is just another Shifting. I can maintain myself like this for a few minutes. About once a week. Or for a few seconds, now and again, every day. But that's all. No." She turned around again, put her clothes back on and resumed her regular appearance. "No, Jean," she said, the voice back to "normal" with its gravelly sound. "This is the real me. And I accept it. No, really-I do. That other me-she's just a dream. And very occasionally I'll visit that dream. But not often. Why torture myself?"
"You're so beautiful," Jean said.
"A few minutes at a time," Maria answered.
"No," Jean said. "All the time. You're the most beautiful person I've ever known."
Maria said nothing in reply, simply held out her hand, and Jean took it. They said nothing for awhile, just stood there in silent communion. Maria finally broke the silence.
"It will be our secret." Jean nodded, and they sealed the secret with their eyes.
Jean!
A sudden psychic cry came to her from the Professor. It was a warning of danger-imminent-
"Jean!" Maria cried out. "What is it?"
A new voice came to her ears, over to her left. "I believe she's being warned about me, my dear." Maria turned her head, and gasped.
Magneto stood there, arms crossed. "I sent two boys to do a man's job," he said almost off-handedly. "I do not tolerate failure. Now, I've come to do the job right. Will you come with me, like a sensible girl? Or shall I have to-as the Americans say-get tough about it?"
Jean gasped. Magneto! Appearing out of nowhere! And she was alone, without her fellow X-Men. No-not quite alone-
Magneto walked up to her. "Well, well, Marvel Girl," he said quietly. "So this is what you look like without your mask." He studied her features intently. "Yes-you are beautiful. As much as I have always imagined. What a pity you have chosen destruction with your fellow race-traitors." He turned to Maria, who hadn't moved a muscle since he appeared. "And you, Maria Gianelli? Do you intend to wear a mask, should you join the X-Men?"
She stirred. "You know my name?"
"There is nothing about mutants I do not know," he said quietly. "Oh yes, I know your name, Maria. And I've come to offer you something that Xavier and his crew could never do. Your true identity, open and unashamed." Maria seemed to respond when Magneto mentioned the Professor, but Jean couldn't be sure of it. She tried to move, to react, but found that she couldn't. She panicked. What was the matter? Why was she paralyzed?
"There is no point in struggling, Marvel Girl," Magneto said. "I am controlling the iron in your blood. You shall move when I permit you to." He turned to Maria. "And you, my dear-the same is true of the silicon in your system. You cannot move." He sighed, and looked to the skies. "This situation shall not prevail for long. I have no doubt but that Charles is in mental contact with Marvel Girl, and marshalling her fellow X-Men to come to her aid. The winged one will probably arrive first, for all the good it would do you two... Anyway." He seemed to come out of a reverie. "Maria, whatever my faults, I do not lie. I offer you a chance to be you. To show the world the pride we mutants take in ourselves. To show them that we do not recognize any standards but our own. That we make our own rules. You can stand straight and tall as one of the Brotherhood. Not hide yourself away, as Xavier's spoiled American children do, behind masks and 'secret identities'. The Brotherhood does not believe we have anything to be ashamed of in our identities as mutants.
"Consider, Maria! The X-Men all look 'human'. Will they truly let you become one of them? When they go out among the world in their 'normal' identities-will they let you join them? Or will they keep you a virtual prisoner in Charles' Mansion, the mutant equivalent of the Madwoman in the Attic? It does not have to be that way, Maria. You could demand the respect of the world. You could take the respect of the world. And we would, all of us, be with you every step of the way."
Maria listened to Magneto's words. She knew that had he arrived a few hours earlier, she might have been tempted. If, as seemed likely now, her isolation from mutant affairs had reached its natural end, perhaps she would have listened to this man. Part of her appreciated what he was doing. It was an arresting performance. Indeed, Milton's Satan could hardly have done better. Nothing he actually said was wrong in and of itself. The only problem was that it stank. Everything he said, did, stank in Maria's nostrils like rotten fish. And she had had enough of that in her life.
He seemed to be expecting a reply, and she found she could move a little, use her vocal chords. So she just looked at him and said, "I've given my word to the X-Men."
He didn't react for some time, and finally he sighed. "Too bad. I could continue to press my case-but it would be to no avail. You do not change your mind when it is made up, Maria. Well, that is too bad." He turned to Jean. "You do realize, my dear, that I can't permit either of you to live? There is nothing personal here, I assure you. You arebeautiful. And I sense such potential in you-indeed, I sense things I do not fully understand." He seemed genuinely distraught now, much to Maria's surprise. "Cutting that off-it is not something I want to do. I certainly am not doing it lightly. But I can't have either of you as enemies. You're both too formidable. And this is war." He turned to Jean and raised his hands as if to make a gesture. "I do promise you, though, that it will be quick."
"You said it." Maria struck out at Magneto with a concentrated blast of water. Her Shifting out of her natural silicon state had been easy, indeed as effortless as it always was. And in this state, of course, there was no metal in her system for him to grab hold of. Taking up her advantage, Maria suddenly became diamond hard and advanced upon the man sputtering on the ground in front of her, spitting water out of his mouth.
Maria threw a hard diamond fist at his head, a gesture meant to immobilize but not to seriously injure. But all she hit was some sort of energy field. Magneto slowly got to his feet, glaring at Maria.
"This is a force field, Miss Gianelli," he said, his voice now harsh and rasping. "I do not believe that you can break through it. But I have no particular desire to stand here and watch you try. Not with the others about to arrive. This battle is therefore pointless." He glared at Jean. "Very well, Marvel Girl. You live awhile longer. But know this-I shall not forget this humiliation." He then turned that malevolent stare, which Maria could feel emanating from the little of his face she could make out beneath his helmet, towards her. "And you, Maria Gianelli. Go with these X-Men of yours. See how you like it-when they live their lives, and you do not. When you are still as much a prisoner as you have been, these past years. You will see how Charles Xavier treats tools-which is all you will be to him."
He gathered himself. "I said that I do not tolerate failure-yet I have failed. I underestimated you, girl. That I shall never do again. I assure you, I shall have a very special fate in store for you. A very special fate indeed." And with that, he was gone, an ever-decreasing dot heading south.
There was a dead silence between the two girls. They looked at each other-and suddenly broke out into laughter, wave after wave overcoming them as they melted into each other's arms. Maria returned to her natural form, and hugged the red-haired girl until she thought her heart would break with sheer joy. For her part, Jean felt that she had found something, some missing part of herself, in this fascinatingly ugly yet supremely beautiful girl. They finally parted, and looked each other in their remarkable eyes.
"I think I'm going to like being an X-Man," Maria said.
"Were you tempted at all?" Jean asked. "By what he said?"
"I might have been, if this happened yesterday," Maria answered. "But after all-I had given my word. Besides-his mention of the Madwoman in the Attic. What the hell. I've always loved Jane Eyre." And Maria and Jean giggled like schoolgirls again.
Charles Xavier had been out of touch with everything that had been going on, ever since he sent Jean that terrible mental warning. Something was blocking her mind to him-! He tried to break through, but it was no use. Meanwhile, the other four X-Men were rapidly closing in on the spot where Magneto was encountering Jean and the other mutant...but would that be of any use?
Suddenly-and to his overwhelming relief-Cerebro's grid showed Magneto moving rapidly south. Something had happened! He had been stymied, somehow. He looked. The Angel was almost upon the other two mutants, and the others were right on his heels. He tried to reach Jean again.
es, Professor, I'm here. Charles found himself breathing again.
ou're all right, Jean? he asked, and he sensed joy, and wonder, and laughter in her mental response.
I've never been better, Professor. Would you care to have a look at our newest X-Man?
Charles shut his eyes. So Jean had done it! Not only confounded Magneto somehow, but succeeded in her mission-making contact with the unknown mutant, and actually recruiting him. His last doubts were gone. Jean was an adult now-and a very formidable one. He felt a burst of sheer pride, that he could sense Jean receiving.
My dear-you've justified all my faith in you. By all means, let me see him.
'Her', Professor, Jean thought. Not him. Let me introduce you. Charles looked across the clearing through Jean's eyes. Professor Xavier, this is Maria Gianelli. Maria-may I introduce you to the leader of the X-Men, Professor Charles Xavier.
Charles looked at Maria. He sensed immediately what her powers consisted of, and was staggered by the potential he saw. More so, he realized immediately as well something of what this girl had been through in her life these past few years. He felt a pang of pity and compassion. Her appearance- Well, Charles had encountered mutants who did not look "human" before. This would present problems, and he wasn't going to pretend otherwise to himself. But he sensed the bond that had already grown between Jean and Maria, and he felt that the first step had already been taken. Once more, he felt gratified at what Jean Grey was becoming.
He sent a mental signal to Maria. Maria, I am Charles Xavier. I am deeply grateful for the opportunity to meet you. Welcome to the X-Men.
Maria seemed hesitant at first, but Jean smiled at her encouragingly. "It's all right, Maria," she said. "Let him in. It will be all right." Maria let her hesitation drop away, and sent a mental reply to Charles.
Professor. I've heard of you before.
Indeed? How so, Maria?
My brother. He heard you lecture once at Bowdoin. He never forgot it. It made him realize right away what I was when I-well, changed.
Excellent! Then I don't have to go into my whole schpiel with you.
No, sir. Not all of it, Maria answered, a laugh bubbling through her thoughts. Charles smiled to himself.
We'll meet in person soon, Maria, Charles told her. I believe the other X-Men are about to make their appearance.
Since the other X-Men remembered their first meetings with Maria Gianelli for the rest of their lives, it behooves us to chronicle these meetings in some depth. Warren Worthington III was first. He had been over sixty miles away when he received that terrible summons from Professor Xavier to go to the aid of Jean and the unknown mutant they were chasing. Magneto! That was all Warren needed.
It took a very few minutes for him to reach the spot that the Professor had mentally indicated. To his immense relief, he saw no sign of Magneto. He saw Jean in the forest clearing with-what?
"Jean!" he cried, landing next to her. "Are you OK? Where's Magneto?"
"He's gone, Warren," Jean said. "Thanks to Maria." Warren turned his head, and saw a tall figure that he could recognize as female, if he focused. She seemed to be composed of fine powder or dirt, and had a strange sort of face that Warren found difficult to look at directly. But her eyes-hazel-colored and very bright-were easy enough to gaze into. He realized she was reaching out her hand to him.
"The Angel, right?" she said in a low, raspy, gravelly voice that still sounded rather lovely. "You're a pretty one, aren't you?" She turned to Jean. "You should have warned me, Jean. I'd have squinted. He's dazzling!" And somewhat to his disconcernment, Jean and this grainy figure laughed together like life-long friends. Warren felt a sudden burst of jealousy. In a very different way from Scott, he knew that somehow, already, here was another rival for Jean's attention and affection. And then Warren realized just how absurd that sounded, and laughed out loud with the two girls.
"It is rather overwhelming on first impression, isn't it?" he said, taking the rough hand and bringing it up to his lips. "I'm Warren Worthington the Third, by the way."
"The Third!" Maria said, turning to Jean. "Oh my. What on earth will the Fourth be like?"
Warren broke in. "That's what I keep telling Jean," he said. "What will he be like? And I keep insisting that only she can help me in finding out."
Jean laughed. "Oh, yes, Maria. Warren talks about it all the time. And I keep answering-one generation at a time. Let his brilliance shine before we go forward."
And Maria Gianelli thought to herself: It's not this one. He wants it to be, but it's not.
The next X-Man to arrive, on an ice slide, was Bobby Drake. He heard the voices of Jean and Warren coming from a clearing up ahead. Were they all right? He guessed so...there was no sign of Magneto...
He landed in the clearing. "You guys OK?" he asked. "I don't see-" And stopped cold. Standing in front of him was something out of a nightmare. A tall figure that reminded him of Frankenstein's monster, if it had been sanded down or something. But it seemed to be-a woman. He stiffened slightly, as "she" came closer to him.
"Bobby," Jean said in a voice that had just a hint of danger in it, as she saw Bobby's reaction, "this is Maria Gianelli. Our new X-Man."
Bobby had sense enough to de-ice, resuming his human form. "Hi," he said warily, as she took his hand. "Is that your power, Maria? To assume-"
"-This beauteous shape?" she asked, with a "smile" coming to those terrible lips. Bobby gulped. That face of hers looked like something you'd see on a Raggedy Ann doll. It gave him the creeps. Bobby shrugged.
"Yeah, if you want to put it that way. Do you have super-strength?"
"Among other things," Maria said, suddenly stretching out her arms to him and putting her hands around his neck. Bobby and Warren both gaped.
"I guess you do," Bobby said. "Why don't you become human again and we can get a good look at you?"
There was total silence. Bobby stopped dead. He had put his foot in it, somehow. "Did I say something wrong?" he asked Jean, shrugging with Maria's hands still around his neck.
Maria pulled her arms back to their "normal" configuration. "I'm afraid, Bobby," she said with a trace of amusement, "that this is my human form. I can assume others briefly, but this is the real me."
Bobby licked his lips. Cripes, he had put his foot in it. "Sorry," he said. "I didn't know."
"No harm done," Jean said, a bit crossly. Bobby winced mentally. He knew that tone in her voice. He'd better toe the line here, though he was still in shock. He was an X-Man. How would he react to the team becoming a page out of Famous Monsters of Filmland?
And Maria Gianelli thought to herself: God, it's sure as hell not this one. Bobby-I'm afraid that you and I are going to have some issues together. Well, it's your problem, not mine. But I'm glad that Jean is here to put you in your place. Warren, too. He's not pleased with you, Bobby, my boy. Not at all.
Scott Summers approached the clearing. He had been running with all the desperation of fear, fear of Magneto alone with Jean, of what could be happening. If any harm came to her- But no. His mind was blocked out to that. It couldn't happen, therefore it wouldn't happen. Concentrate on anything else-tactics, strategy, what he'd do if this situation prevailed, what he'd do if another situation were the case. Be the perfect soldier. Everyone was counting on him. She was counting on him.
He heard voices ahead, and almost cried out in relief. Jean was alive! And there was no fighting going on-the crisis had passed! This was his first, overwhelming thought as he burst into the clearing. There she was! And Warren, and Bobby... Why was Jean's mask off? And who was-was this the other mutant, the one they had been searching for?
"Is everything all right?" he asked Jean in a cold, professional manner, keeping all emotion out of it. "Where's Magneto?"
"Maria chased him off," Jean said, indicating the stranger amongst them. She seemed not to notice Scott's relief, or his cold manner towards her. Scott looked at Maria. He saw a tall female form, with extraordinary hazel eyes on a strange, unformed face. Her body was bizarre-almost like she was made of gravel or sand. She seemed to exude power as she moved, as she breathed. Scott was impressed. This mutant is the most powerful of us all. She'd be an overwhelming asset to the team.
He put out his hand, which she accepted. "Maria-I'm Scott Summers. Has Jean talked to you about the X-Men...?"
Maria smiled on that odd face of hers. "She has. And she's a pretty good salesman, Scott. I'm sold. You've got yourself an X-Man."
Scott did something he rarely did-he smiled. "Then this is a good day," he told the others. "Maria-welcome to the team. You'll never regret this decision."
"Oh, I'm sure I'll regret it all the time," Maria said. "What the hell does that have to do with anything?" And everyone laughed at that-even Bobby. But he didn't stop looking oddly at her, Scott noted.
And Maria Gianelli thought to herself: It's this one. No doubt about it whatever. The way they carefully don't look at each other-! And he's head over heels. The poor slob-he really has it bad. Well, why not? Anyone who loved Jean would have it bad. Nobody could love her half-heartedly. My God! He doesn't even know how she feels about him! And Jean-she doesn't realize, either! Oh, this is too rich! They're both crazy about each other, and neither has the sense to tell the other! Well-I'll give them some time to come to their senses. Then, I'm intervening. And I won't be bashful about it, either.
The last of the X-Men, Henry McCoy, made his way into the clearing. He had been reconnoitering in the trees, in case of trouble, but hearing the other's voices, he set himself down and walked forward. Magneto had vanished, thank goodness, and everyone else seemed to be in good enough spirits-
Hank stopped short. The newcomer-surely the mutant they had been pursuing-came up to him and put out a massive, grainy hand. "Hi," she said-for it was a female voice, though gravelly and hoarse, but still withal a voice of beauty. Hank took it.
"I'm Maria Gianelli," the newcomer said. "I've just joined the X-Men." Hank felt a sudden rush of pleasure, even joy, though he couldn't have explained why. He looked into a pair of hazel eyes- Those eyes! He had never seen anything so compelling. On that rather odd face-but interesting, different-they shined like stars. Hank felt flustered, even a little embarrassed, as he sensed those eyes watching him, judging him. He covered up his embarrassment with a show of erudition.
"Silicon, if I am not mistaken?" he asked the girl. "Your basic chemical state, that is. I deduce that from the way the grains seem to adhere to you, even though I don't see anything that would indicate something comparable to surface tension in liquid, which would surely be there if-"
The others laughed, including Maria. "You've been warned," Warren said. "Maria, Hank will probably find you the most interesting specimen he's ever had. Expect all sorts of Frankenstein-like experiments."
Hank flushed slightly, then smiled. "Indubitably, Miss Gianelli," he said, kissing her hand like Warren did. "I am cursed with curiosity. And you are-well, striking."
"I should hope so", Maria said, looking Hank right in the eye.
He flushed again. "And this form-it is your natural form, right? I asume that you're a morph-that you can assume other shapes and chemical states-"
"Not now," Jean said, coming up and putting her arms around Hank and Maria. "There's time for that. Right now, it's time for celebration. Scott, let's get the Blackbird from wherever it is we parked it, and get Maria back home and meet the Professor. We have a new X-Man!" And the others, even Bobby, even Scott, roared their approval.
And Maria Gianelli thought to herself: You were never in the hunt, Hank. Now why does that please me so? You're adorable. I like you a whole lot. But for God's sake, Gianelli-don't think what you're thinking. There's no possible future there, for either of you. You don't want to hurt this boy. And you don't want to be hurt. You've just found a home. Don't lead with your chin, and get hurt. You know damned well that whatever life has in store for you, romance is never going to be part of it. You accepted this long ago. Don't fall in love.
And as the six young mutants left the clearing together, at that self-same moment a figure in a dark laboratory watched them on a television screen. The figure was very tall, had an ageless face with a blue tint, and wore a jewel in his forehead. His name was Nathaniel Essex, and he was a happy man in that instant.
So the girl has joined them. That's very good. It helps my plans-though of course, everything helps my plans. But it was a close call. Magneto almost had her. And if he had gotten her-and killed Jean-God knows what chaos would have ensued.
He turned the screen off, having seen enough. The girl's father-hopeless. Corrupt, useless. He deserved that cancer I gave him. But then, he failed me-the girl escaped. Maybe it was my fault, for trying to buy her outright. But at least I know now where she is. Maria, child-we shall meet again. And next time, there shall be no escape for you. You're too important, I'm afraid. Almost as much so as Scott and Jean. And isn't it just perfect to have the three of you in one place, where I can keep an eye on you all?
And in another dark room, in another place, another figure watched its own television screen. The figure was carefully observing Essex observing the X-Men. It watched as Essex turned off his screen. After a moment, the figure turned off its screen as well.
Well, well. So the girl has joined the X-Men. The process has begun, then. And if things go as I expect they shall, it will get very interesting, indeed. Essex-he thinks he can control the girl, control Summers, above all control Jean Grey. He is an idiot. He always has been. The figure went to a window and opened it, getting a small summer breeze come through the room. The figure yawned. It was tired. Well, it would sleep the sleep of the dead tonight-a great burden had been lifted from its soul. The girl was in place. The figure could not conceal from itself how relieved it was.
If nothing else, the X-Men are immensely more powerful now. Maria has no notion of just how powerful she really is. She told some of this to Jean, but still... Well, Xavier will discover this in due course. But in the struggle against the Brotherhood, the balance will shift now-in Xavier's favor. Is that a good thing, or a bad thing? It's too early to tell. And there is more out there. Trask is building his Sentinels. When they become operational, everything will change for the mutants. Forever. The figure made a gesture that might almost have been one of concern. That will be hard to predict. The Sentinels will likely improve with each generation, get deadlier and deadlier. Almost certainly, they will come to be a threat to ordinary humans as well. Trask is a fool. Well, it's too late to stop him now.
The figure yawned again. Yes, it was time to sleep, and it would be able to now with a good heart. The fire is coming. It is still many years away, but it is coming. And Jean Grey will have to endure it, consume it, make it her own. Maria is by her side-how will that affect her when the time comes? God knows. I do not. Though I must learn. Perhaps we shall all regret this day. Well, I can think no more of it tonight. The figure turned out the lights, and headed to bed. Tomorrow, perhaps, things would be seen with more clarity.
"Idiot! Out of my sight!"
Wanda Maximoff watched as the Toad hopped frantically away from Magneto's private quarters. Magneto had returned from his quest in as foul a mood as Wanda had ever seen him, which was no mean feat, given some of their leader's past tantrums. Something had obviously gone wrong with the search for the new mutant.
She started. Wyngarde had come up upon her so quietly, she didn't even hear him-a trick he was good at. She shuddered at the cynical smile on his saturnine face. Everything about this man revolted her, not least the casual assumption of proprietorship he assumed with her. Even so, Wyngards was-or had been-a gentleman. For all her contempt, she didn't regard him as she did the Toad, a drooling pervert to whom she didn't even give the dignity of his real name.
Wanda hated this place, she hated everyone around her-except for Pietro, of course-and she lived in a cocoon of fear. Fear of Magneto, naturally. His wrath was omnipresent, and always anticipated with dread. His bizarre plans, the orders he gave that he never explained, the seemingly endless war he had forced Pietro and herself into, the aims of which she did not understand... She felt lost and hopeless. It was only Pietro's presence that made any of this even remotely tolerable.
But her fears didn't end with the masterful man who was their leader. She hated and feared both Mastermind and the Toad, and she was never able to escape their presence for any length of time. She could always feel them near by-Wyngarde, whose smile always made it apparent what he was thinking about, and the easy confidence in that smile, the confidence that he would get his way in the end. The thought revolted Wanda. But even that was better than the Toad. She shuddered at the very thought of him-always looking at her out of the corner of his eye, leering, never openly disrespectful-Magneto saw to that!-but always all but slobbering whenever he looked at her. There was not even the pretense that Wyngarde gave of being civilized.
She also feared their missions, those bizarre times they left their quarters and went out to obey whatever orders Magneto felt like giving them. So many of those orders made Wanda sick at heart. There had been attacks on innocent humans, invasions of whole nations, so many actions that reeked of ordinary criminality. But Magneto repeatedly emphasized that there were no "innocent humans"-and after all, could she deny this? They had almost killed her and Pietro in their homeland of Scandia-and only he, Magneto, had been there to save them. They owed him their lives. Following his orders was a small price to pay. Let her conscience stay quiet.
And of course, she feared the X-Men, those other mutants, the renegades who seemed to take such pride in defending ordinary humans. Why did they do that, Wanda often wondered to herself-defend the humans against their own people? She did not understand this. What she did understand was that the X-Men were formidable foes, who seemed more dangerous each time the Brotherhood encountered them. The first time had been in Central America, some months ago. Since then, there had been over a dozen encounters between the Brotherhood and the young mutants in the black and yellow costumes, some minor, some significant. The latest one had had the mighty Sub-Mariner himself joining the Brotherhood's ranks. But that had proved abortive, like so much of what they did.
And that was typical. Abortive. Plans that went nowhere, hiding, skulking in dark holes...was this the life Magneto had in store for them? How long would Wanda be able to stand it here, the isolation and those terrible people always there, always leering at her, with only Pietro to save her? And if she were honest with herself, she even feared Pietro. He was so intense, like a spring wound too tight. His protectiveness was smothering sometimes, like a blanket always choking her. In the old country, brothers did protect their sisters from danger, if there was no father present. And Wanda did not doubt the basic wisdom of this course-she was shocked at what she was able to see of American women, the freedom-the untrammeled license-they had. She was happy for protection. But Pietro was so intense... And then, Wanda feared for Pietro as well. He did not fear Magneto. And that, Wanda felt in her soul, was not wise.
Above all, Wanda feared herself. Her power, which was so unpredictable, so out of any control of hers. Magneto had explained it to her often: "You control probability, my dear. There is nothing 'magical' about it. We have work to do, to be sure, in getting it better under your control. But once we do..." But Wanda was not fooled by this sort of talk. Magic, probability-they meant the same thing in the end. In her part of the world, things popped up occasionally that the people just knew. Transylvania was near her homeland...and the knowledge of vampires. And on the other side of Scandia lay Latveria. Compared to the horrors of that land, vampires were a cozy and comforting thought indeed...
No. Wanda knew that her abilities were beyond the understanding of Magneto, and his oh-so-comforting words. And that made her most afraid of all. She had wondered sometimes if it would help if she had another girl to talk to, that that might ease her burden somewhat. That X-Man-the red-head, the one called Marvel Girl. There was something about her... Wanda sometimes wished they could in some manner be isolated in one of the bouts between the X-Men and the Brotherhood, that they might talk, and Wanda could explain her fears to someone who might be sympathetic.
She sighed to herself. But no. The other girl would probably just use the chance to try to proselytize Wanda into joining the X-Men. She would have her own agenda, her own desire to use Wanda for her ends. Just like Magneto. Just like everybody.
She started. She had almost forgotten Wyngarde's presence. He was smiling at her. "Well, my dear? Have we returned from our little nap?"
She glared at him. "What do you want?"
The smile didn't change. "Oh, nothing, my lovely Wanda. Nothing at all... Just a word of friendly advice: I'd avoid our esteemed leader for awhile. His mission, I fear, fared no better than Mortimer's and mine did yesterday. In fact, not to put too fine a point upon it, he's come back with his tail between his legs. And he is not in a good mood."
"Is he ever?" Wanda asked wearily, suddenly wishing desperately that she was somewhere, anywhere, other than this place.
"Probably not-at least, not by our benevolent standards," Wyngarde answered with a hint of joviality. "Oh, my dear Wanda-I see how distressed you are. Might a glass of wine ease your concerns right now?"
Wanda saw a green blur come out of nowhere, and the next thing she saw Pietro had appeared and had his hands around Wyngarde's throat. "I've warned you, Mastermind," he said, a quiet but deadly intonation in his voice. "You ignore my warnings."
"My dear Pietro," Wyngarde said, not seemingly nonplussed. "This is a small domicile for us all, and there are very few of us. It's inevitable that we're going to encounter each other in the course of the day and pass the time. Is it not?" And Wyngarde attemptyed a reasonable smile to match his words, something that seemingly just worked to enrage Pietro all the more.
For a moment, Wanda had a horrified feeling that Pietro was going to throw Wyngarde through a window, make a terrible scene, and bring Magneto out to investigate-which would just add gasoline to an already bad situation. But he thought better of it, merely releasing the other man. "Come, Wanda," her brother told her. "We shall retire away from the others. Come, sister. I have spoken."
"Yes, Pietro," Wanda said, more heartsick than ever. Another small dagger through her heart, another small piece of poison in this already laden atmosphere. How long would she be able to endure it?
Chapter Four
The small plane set down in a landing-field amidst thick woods. Maria saw the Hudson River far to the west as they approached, and rolling hills surrounding them. She had been a city girl as a kid, and couldn't remember ever getting up to this neck of the woods, except for the Hudson Excursion boat a time or two. They all piled out of the Blackbird, and Maria felt a strong sense of anticipation. Home. Was that was this place was? Did she have a home now? She couldn't believe that...but then, she couldn't believe anything that had happened since Frank had encountered her in the woods. She briefly wondered if she was a mental case, locked in some loony bin in a straitjacket while fantasizing about "mutants". Things were moving so fast, after so many years of hardship and hopelessness...it was overwhelming, and the ride was nowhere near coming to a stop.
The others were talking excitedly, speaking to her about this and that and how over there was their skating pond in winter, and there was where Bobby made a life-size ice statue of King Kong, anatomically correct, and there was the ball field, and hey!, would it be cheating if Maria could stretch her arms, and what do you think telekinesis and wings and superhuman agility were, anyway, and we should start playing with no powers, and how could you do that if you couldn't turn your powers off, and the Professor would figure out all of this, his rulings always made sense...
Maria heard it all with kind of controlled panic that kept welling up into joy. Oh God, what was she doing here, anyway? Was it too late to just run away? She shook her head mentally. No-she had been doing that for four years. She could sense fate, God, destiny, call it what you will, taking a hand here. There was something right about all this. This was, she knew, where she was supposed to be. I never really liked my exile. I told myself I didn't care, but I always knew I was lying. Now I'm immersed in life-at least, as much as I can be. No-don't think about that.
They approached a very large house with four stories and several wings branching out from the main one. There were outbuildings and garages and generators and gardens and statues and a swimming pool, and she was trying to take it all in, but there was so much to see and more every step she took. Then they entered the house, and a huge entry hall with rooms off to the right and left and ahead, and a staircase directly in front that looked as if it could handle the entire 101st Airborne all at once. Maria blinked-she didn't know places like this really existed. This must have been as large as the goddam White House.
Right in the middle of the giant hall sat a man in a wheelchair. He was in his early thirties, Maria guessed, and as bald as an egg. He had a small smile on his face, and put his hand out as she approached.
"Maria Gianelli," he said, and his voice washed over Maria like a warm summer rain after a drought, and she realized immediately that she loved this man. And, more importantly, trusted him. She looked right into his eyes with her intense hazel ones, and took his hand, and perhaps he felt the extreme emotion washing over her, because he flushed slightly, and seemed almost nonplussed for a second. "Welcome to Professor Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters," he continued, and Maria almost cried. When he said the word "welcome", she realized with a shock of surprise that he meant it, and that he meant nothing else. There was no hint of any hidden agenda-no satisfaction at stealing a march on Magneto, no thoughts about what her power might add to the X-Men. For that matter, no concern about how her presence might complicate his life. She almost sank to the floor, she was so overwhelmed. Yes. This place was "home". Really, the only one she had ever known.
Quick thoughts came to her, revolving around her determination to defend this place and these people, and what she was prepared to do towards that end. She forced herself to get those thoughts out of her head-they were now part of her soul, and she could deal with them in due course. But they were part of her now. This place-these people-were her life now, and she had a duty to them. And she was not one for half-measures...
"Professor Xavier," she said, suddenly wincing at what her voice must sound like to this man. "Thank you for your invitation. I'm greatly honored to be here."
He smiled slightly. "Well, Maria, we're delighted to have you. This must be a change after your experiences these past few years."
"Yes, sir," she said, looking around. "I'm not-well, I'm not entirely accustomed to civilization. You'll have to make some allowances for that."
"We'll manage," he said drily. "Are you hungry? Thirsty? Would you like to freshen up, or take a shower-" Professor Xavier froze, suddenly looking like he had swallowed a suspect mushroom. "That is-"
Maria laughed out loud. "Professor-in order, I'm starved, I'm dying of thirst, I don't need to freshen up, and I take showers just like anybody else." She stretched out her gravelly hands. "My skin, body, can get wet just like anyone's. When I'm immersed in water, I do not turn into mud. I get clean. Why that should be, I'm sure you'll be able to figure out."
The innocent, but ever-so-slightly wicked, manner in which she said this brought a burst of laughter from everyone present, even the Professor. "Well, then" he replied, "food first? Before anything, including the slightest hint of business. Carla has been making a buffet ever since I heard that you were going to be coming. So: if we all repair to the kitchen..."
Maria smiled. "Professor-I've been surviving for four years on stolen scraps and occasional catching of poor little animals. If you're offering real food, I'll take it." Everyone else agreed to this suggestion heartily.
Fifteen minutes later, Maria was eating what seemed to be her one-hundredth meat ball, with chicken and ham slices arrayed in front of her and a mountain of potato salad arrayed beyond that. A real meal. When was the last time? Probably that evening near South Bend, when she frightened a family taking a picnic, and they had considerately left their food behind. Well, this sure beat that all hollow.
The others were watching her shovel it in with a certain awe. "Hey, Hank," Bobby said. "I thought you liked to eat."
"Now, Robert," the Professor said, slightly chidingly. "She has been absent from civilized amenities for a long time."
"OK, Prof," Bobby said, taking a plate of pigs-in-a-blanket from Carla Powell, a sturdy Negro woman of about forty who came in from Peekskill five days week to cook. She was a friendly soul who took life-and the inhabitants of this house-as she found them. Charles trusted her discretion absolutely, and she would have faced down Magneto single-handedly for Charles' sake. He had cured her son of severe psychic trauma when the boy was eight years old, and all the other doctors had advised Carla to give the boy up as a hopeless case. Using his telepathy, Charles had entered the boy's mind and exorcised some very powerful inner demons, indeed. He was healthy and thriving now, and Carla regarded Charles as just slightly on a lower plane than the Jesus her Baptist soul fervently believed in.
Hank was watching Maria with interest. "Maria-might I ask a question?"
"Umm?" she replied with a mouth full of turkey. "Sure," she finally said when she had swallowed. "Anything." And she was surprised how literally she meant that, especially with this young man. That he was asking her any questions, seemed to be taking an interest in her-he was, wasn't he?-pleased her. And terrified her. Stop it, girl! You can't tease him...
Hank frowned. "Well-I'm just wondering about your physiology. Do you eat more than an average person of your size? I mean, you are large for a female, human or mutant, so I'm sure you don't have a small appetite...and of course, you've been living in the wild. But given your power, and how much mass you're able to maintain in certain of your states-"
Maria laughed. "You mean, how can I do all that, if I don't eat ten times my body weight every day?" she said, and Hank nodded. "Hank-that's a very good question. I've thought of it now and then, of course, but my knowledge of mutant biology is pretty sketchy." She turned to the Professor. "Sir-can you answer it? And the answer to his question is, despite the pig I'm making of myself right now, no, I do not eat ten times my body weight every day. So how do I manage to utilize so much energy when I go into my Shifting states?"
Charles had been following this exchange with interest, gratified to see Hank taking an interest in Maria and glad to see the girl's eager response, and how intelligently she grasped the problem. "It's difficult to say," he answered. "Of course, the problem isn't unique with you, Maria. Henry himself is six foot tall and weighs about two hundred and twenty pounds-yet has the strength of at least a dozen normal men his size. And there are the examples of the Thing and the Hulk, ordinary humans who have been transformed by cosmic and gamma rays into beings who weigh much more than ordinary men, and have strength far more than proportional to even that weight. I don't know about the Hulk, but Dr Richards has been kind enough to permit me to see some of his notes regarding Ben Grimm, and I can say that he eats no more than his weight-about four hundred pounds-would indicate. He certainly does noteat enough for the sheer energy he expends when he uses his strength."
"So, then, nobody really knows anything?" Maria said, munching on another meatball to show that she hadn't forgotten what they were talking about.
Charles smiled slightly. "In a nutshell, young lady-yes."
Maria turned to Hank and smiled. "Well, then, Mr. McCoy-there's something you can work on. I'll be your guinea pig anytime you want." Dammit, stop it! Don't do that, girl!
There was much merriment after this suggestion was broached, with Warren offering Jean as a guinea pig-"provided I can be the mad scientist"-and Hank giving his opinion as to Warren's suitability for this role. Jean, her eyes bright, looking, Maria thought, very happy, said that she'd be the one to choose her mad scientist, and that maybe she'd make a good Bride of Frankenstein when the time came-
And then Jean Grey flushed, and all talk stopped, as everyone looked guiltily at Maria. Who just smiled in a superior way, and stood up. She walked to the center of the kitchen, bowed to the others, and turned away. She thought to herself, concentrated, and turned back-
The others gasped. Standing in front of them was an apparition, a smooth, white face, coiffured dark hair with a white streak, pointing at them with an outstretched finger. "Hssss!" she spat out of her mouth.
"My God!" Charles said, looking at an almost-perfect simalucron of Elsa Lanchester as, indeed, the Bride of Frankenstein. Maria turned around again, and when she returned to the table was her normal grainy self. She sat down with an air of innocence.
"What-the-hell-" said Bobby slowly.
"I think he speaks for all of us," Warren said, but with a look of admiration on his face.
"Oh, please," Maria said. "Every Halloween, I go prowling one of our great American metropolises, scaring the snot out of as many little brats as I can find. Shifting to the Bride of Frankenstein was one of my earliest efforts in this regard. It's a pretty easy one, actually."
The others had no seeming response to this. It was Scott who finally spoke.
"I can see that there are surprises ahead of us." Maria nodded cheerfully, and ate another meatball.
After dinner, Jean took Maria up to the second floor wing where she had her room. "We'll have a proper girl's dorm up here," she said as she showed Maria into a room next to her own. "What do you think?"
Maria looked around. My God-it had a bed! She laughed to herself. Well, since this was a bedroom-! But it hit her just then that she wouldn't be sleeping under a tree trunk, or next to a stone wall, that night. She walked over gingerly to the bed, touched it, sat down on it. It seemed to support her weight-
"Lie down!" Jean said gaily. "You won't break it, Maria."
"I dunno," Maria said, taking Jean's advice. "I'm not a lightweight." But it seemed to hold her weight just fine, and she shut her eyes, and she heard Jean's words as she would a waterfall, beautiful soothing sounds lapping her ears and muzzling her body on a lovely spring morning...
Maria blinked. It was sunny out, and the light was coming from the east. "Oh, no..."
Maria, voice in her head said.
Professor? Maria replied, finding the psychic communication strange, but not particularly difficult. My God-did I sleep all night?
You did, the Professor answered, a hint of amusement in his thoughts, or so she sensed. In fact, it's nine a.m. Everyone else has been up for quite some time, but I thought that since this is your first day, and you've been-uh-away from civilization for some time, that we might make an allowance this once. But now-I wish to have you report to my study at ten o'clock sharp, if you please. There is much to discuss.
Yes, sir, she answered, and got out of bed. She went to a bathroom, used it for various tasks, including a long, intense shower. This was nearly her undoing. She would wash herself in streams or ponds sometimes, but a hot shower! She just luxuriated in it, wondering as she did so if maybe she was turning to mud, so much grime and junk came off her. But she emerged merely wet, and dried her rough form with a towel that might never recover from the ordeal. She also dried her hair, such as it was, with another towel and wondered if even the Professor had the money he'd need to deal with the towels she was going to wear out.
In the event, she was in Professor Xavier's study at ten o'clock sharp, standing in front of his desk. He looked up at her and said slowly, "please sit down, Maria." She did so.
He cupped his chin in his right hand, looking at her carefully. "Maria-are those rags the only clothes you generally wear?"
She nodded. "Yes, sir. There's no point in wearing anything else, since they get destroyed so easily when I Shift. No, I only put on just the, well, basics."
Charles Xavier considered this, and Maria could have sworn she saw him blush for a moment. "Hmm...I see..."
"I don't exactly look like the Playmate of the Month," Maria answered. "I don't appear either modest or immodest, do I?"
"No," Charles answered. "You have a feminine form, of course-"
"That's kind of you, sir," she answered. "But let's face it-I look like a statue that's never quite been finished. The usual stuff that goes on with clothes-or the lack of them-doesn't really apply to me, does it?"
"No," he said again, slower this time. "Nonetheless, Maria, I believe that proper dress is-well, mandatory. It certainly is at this school."
She nodded. "I understand perfectly, sir. I've come here of my own free will, and will accept your rules. That should go without saying."
He seemed pleased. "Very good." He produced a box. "Maria-there's a small anteroom next door. Would you take this box, and put on what's inside? I'm very interested to see what this will look like on you."
Maria did as he asked, and returned wearing a black-and-yellow costume that covered her irregular figure as best it could. "That is a standard uniform," he said. "Quite similar to the others', as you see. Like all of the standard uniforms, it is comprised of unstable molecules, courtesy of Dr. Reed Richards. Stretch your arms!" Maria did so, and gasped. The uniform stretched along with them!
"My God!" she said. "Professor-does this work for all my states?"
"Absolutely," he said. "Try a few of them, and see." Maria Shifted into her diamond form, and the costume altered along with her body. She Shifted into the Frankenstein Monster, up to eight feet, and the costume again altered with her form. Finally, she inpulsively Shifted to her water form, and the costume seemed to turn into water, too. She Shifted back to normal, but not before some water seeped onto the floor of the Professor's study.
"Oh," she said, embarrassed. "I'm sorry, sir-let me get something to mop it up-"
Charles Xavier smiled and waved her off. "No matter for now, Maria. You see how handy these unstable molecules can be? We're going to measure you for regular clothes, as well. They too shall be made of unstable molecules, so that if you are ever taken by surprise, you'll be able to function immediately without having to switch into your uniform."
The logic of this impressed itself upon Maria, and she nodded. "Yes, sir." She hesitated, then: "Professor, I have to admit, I have almost no experience in combat situations. I have a lot to learn. I know that by joining the X-Men, I'll have to be trained. I accepted that, and everything that came with it, when I agreed to join." She hesitated again. "But, sir-this is going to sound bizarre-"
He smiled his encouragement at her. "You're expressing yourself admirably, Maria."
"Thank you, sir... It's just that-well, I don't exactly know what my powers really are. I told Jean that I've always been afraid to test them as I could have, because if I found out just what I was capable of, I wouldn't be able to avoid taking sides in mutant politics. I would have been unable to continue as I was, wandering and ignoring the rest of the world-and the future. Well, I've made my commitment. And having made it, I'm in it for the long haul. Given that, I think it's just common sense to find out exactly what the parameters of my powers really are."
Professor Xavier looked pleased. "That's an exceptionally intelligent-and mature-attitude, Maria. You see what's in front of your eyes, and know what's important. That's an excellent start. Soon, we're going to be going into an area we call the Danger Room. It's a place where we test our powers, and train ourselves in their use. For today, all I want you to do is what you've always done. We'll see where your abilities lie right now, and what you can do with them. When we've finished with that task-and I can't say how long it'll take-then we'll see where we are, and begin to explore any other powers you might not be aware of yet. But a step at a time."
"Yes, sir," she said, again as if this was obvious. "I take it you did similar things with all the others?"
"Oh, yes," he said. "But in their cases, we knew from the start pretty much what their powers were, and how they worked. Although they constantly surprise me, I'm glad to say. But in your case..." He frowned. "Maria-I must admit, I've never encountered a mutant like you before. In terms of how broad your abilities are, what a wide range of powers you seem to have. Even with what we know, there is no other mutant whose powers are so unresolved, with the possible exception of The Scarlet Witch. This is going to be a challenge."
He shut his eyes a moment and sighed. "Maria-I must confess to you, I had been planning to take a leave of absence from the School. Travel, try to relax, and also to deal with some personal issues." His eyes opened widely, and he smiled at her. "The other students are only weeks away from their formal graduation from the School. They have completed a rigorous prep school education, as well as developed as X-Men. That being the case, I had hoped for a sabbatical. But it wasn't to be. Your coming here is a sign, that my work is far from over-and indeed, in many ways has just begun. I find this personally invigorating. You are to be my greatest challenge."
She smiled at him. "Well, sir, I'd hate to be second."
He smiled in return. "A good attitude, Maria. A very good one. You know that your challenges are going to be unique. In many ways, you are not like my other students. You have had more independence, you are more powerful-more so even than Cyclops-your personality is more formed. But even so, much of your experience is similar, too."
She nodded. "Yes, sir. The Torches and Pitchforks."
"Quite so. We all know something of that. Which is why I need to ask you if you're prepared to make sacrifices I haven't had to ask of the others."
"The Madwoman in the Attic," Maria said. Professor Xavier looked startled.
"That's very apt, Maria," he said. Then he saw the growing smile on her unformed face. "What's the joke, if I might ask?"
Maria laughed out loud. "Professor-Magneto, when he encountered Jean and I in Pennsylvania yesterday, warned me about this. He said that you would make me the mutant version of the Madwoman in the Attic. Basically, keep me a prisoner. Shall we speak plainly, sir?"
He nodded. He looked fascinated, deeply impressed-and, Maria thought, rather sad.
"Very well, Professor. The others can go out in public, except maybe Warren-"
She stopped, as the Professor shook his head. "The Angel has a harness which he can fold his wings into. He, too, can 'go out', as you put it."
She flinched. "Ouch. I'll bet that smarts. Well, I should have known he'd have something. But I'm glad it hurts him. Things would be too perfect for him otherwise."
Professor Xavier smiled gently. "Avoiding perfection, I fear, is something that Warren does seem to have to watch out for."
"Umm hmm... Look, sir: The others can go out. I can't. I realize this. Hell, of course I do. I did from the instant Jean asked me to join the team. I said I'd play by your rules, sir, and I shall. But I'm not going to kid you-I'm not going to be happy about it. In some ways, I'm going to be even more of an outsider than I was when I was on my own. What I'm getting in exchange is worth it-worth it ten times over. Sir-I feel like I've come home. Already."
Charles looked down at the floor. "Child-this is your home. The moment I met you in the hall, I knew this was where you belonged."
She smiled, and stretched her hand to his, and grasped it. "Yes, sir," she said. "I'm not one to give loyalty lightly. And believe me-it wasn't done lightly. Maybe someday, what transpired between Jean and me will be known to you. But for the moment, sir, I'd request that it be our secret."
Charles Xavier felt a lump in his throat. "Oh, my dear- Of course. Of course." But there was something in her voice, her attitude, when she made this request- No. No, he sensed that whatever this was, it was something deep inside her, something in what he called the Inviolate Zone that each of his students had, some place so personal to them that he wouldn't have dreamed of attempting to penetrate it.
"As you say," he replied. "Perhaps someday."
"Yes, sir," she answered in a subdued voice. "But I'm going to tell you right out, sir-despite these grounds and this house, I'm going to get cabin fever sometimes. I'll do my best to keep it within bounds, but it'll be there."
He looked at this girl, and he felt such a rush of conflicting emotions-love, respect, pity, sheer admiration for her spirit-that for a moment, he couldn't go on. "My dear," he finally said. "Someday, somehow, we shall find an answer to this problem. This, I swear."
She smiled. "Your word is good enough for me."
He shrugged. "There are things- I know that Stark Industries is working on something called an 'image inducer', that might give you some camouflage when you go out in public. But I'm afraid that it's several years away from any practical application."
"Well, we can't make things too easy for me," she said with a wistful tone in that gravelly voice. She paused. "Professor-"
"Yes, Maria?" he answered, aware that she was about to ask something very serious.
"Will a day ever come that we don't have to walk in the darkness? Hide ourselves? A day where we can just show ourselves to the world as we are?"
Charles Xavier was silent for a long time. "Maria...the short answer is, I don't know! Of course, I have thought of this. The masks, the so-called 'secret identities'...does all this make things worse, or better? Had the fact of mutants come to the attention of the world slowly, naturally, my answer might have been different. But it was otherwise. All of my X-Men have had encounters with hostile mobs of homo sapiens. You of course have a name for it-'Torches and Pitchforks'. It is my firm belief that walking in darkness, as you call it, is a necessity at this moment in history. Magneto, with his assault on Cape Citadel, and the more recent invasion of Central America, has greatly increased the dangers, too. If we went public right now, our safety-and that of our loved ones-would be in constant danger."
He sighed. "And I know how insufficient this must sound to you. You, of all of us... I know the counter-arguments. That by hiding away, we are making a bad situation worse. Magneto certainly believes this. I do not know what the right answer is, Maria Gianelli. But for the moment, the course we are taking seems best."
"Yes, sir," she said softly. "And I accept your judgment."
He looked at her, and squeezed her hand, still outstretched to him. "My dear girl...your presence seems to make everything different. You make me see the world in a new light."
"Is that a bad thing, sir?" she asked gently.
"Oh, of course not!" he said, smiling. "Having all my assumptions questioned is the best thing that's happened to me in some time, believe me. You are good for me, Maria." He looked pensive. "But I do swear to you-you will not be 'The Madwoman in the Attic' forever."
"Yes, sir," she said, in a voice that was quiet and filled with understanding-so much so that it made Charles Xavier wince inside. He would not betray her trust in him, no matter what.
"Let's get some business done," he said, to get his mind off his own emotion. He opened his desk and got out some papers. "Let's get some basic facts...your name is Maria Gianelli?" he asked in a neutral voice.
"Yes, sir," she answered. "Maria Anna Gianelli. Born February 7, 1947. New York City."
"Umm," he said, writing this down. "Parents?"
She paused slightly, and he noticed the pause, and almost asked about it, but didn't. "Deceased."
"I'm sorry," he answered, and she shrugged. "All right-relatives?"
"A brother, Frank," she said. "Born October 22, 1939. Employed at The Daily Bugle."
"Indeed," Charles said, his eyebrows raised. "He knows about you-?"
"Absolutely, sir," she said. "And he would never say a word to anyone. He loves his job, but he'd sacrifice it in a second to avoid hurting me. You have nothing to worry about on that score, and in fact I'd strongly recommend that you take him into your confidence."
Charles grunted. It was a pleasure to speak with this girl-she got to the point, carried herself like a professional already, and saw what mattered. The potential here-
"Well, Maria, legally you're a minor," he said. "But under the circumstances, I don't know how relevant that is. I can hardly reveal you to the Child Welfare authorities. I suppose we'll have to make our own laws as we go along." He gave a wry laugh. "I wonder what Magneto would say to that, if he could hear me! But your brother is your legal guardian, at the moment. I believe we shall be in contact with him soon, Maria."
"Yes, sir," she nodded. "I think that's a good idea."
"Now," Charles said, "I believe we need to retire to the Danger Room, and see what we have in you."