Subject: [OTL]: The Chosen Ones [8/12]
Date: Wed, 20 Oct 1999 07:17:02 -0700 (PDT)
From: D Benway <d_benway@yahoo.com>

The Chosen Ones: Part 8 of 12
The Party
Benway did this.

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

Warning: This story is not intended for children of any age. It
contains descriptions of human behaviour which many might find
distressing. You have been warned.

The characters belong to Marvel. The story is my own, and copyright
to me. Many thanks for the editorial assistance of Luba K and
Tina S. Other stories are archived at the website of Luba.

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

Sometime that afternoon, possibly when Shaw's black Armstrong-
Siddely had pulled up in front of Frost's house, he had gone beyond
terror. There were acts that he had to perform on cue later in the
evening. At any moment while performing them, he could be suddenly
and brutally killed. His parents and ten randomly chosen people
would then follow him into the grave. Instead of thinking of this as
he had all of the previous sleepless night, he had taken to
believing that he was in a television program. He would play his
role, everyone would cry and laugh at the right times, and
then it would end and everyone would live happily ever after.

He was in the grand ballroom of Frost's house, wearing his school
pants with his tuxedo. The pants that had come with the tuxedo were
in the laundry, after he had had an accident. He had been thinking
of Now so hard that he had forgotten something very important.
Characters on television never had to go to the bathroom. Kitty was
at his side. She looked very attractive in a Little Black Dress [TM]
that showed off the architecture of her collarbones, in order to
distract from the absence of any curves beneath. She was not going
to let him out of her sight, not after all the rehearsals. Frost was
scheduled to appear at midnight, and they had 90 minutes before that
to get Shaw to the Conservatory. It didn't require much from him.
They told him what Shaw liked. He was bait.

He scanned the room. The other NMs and the Hellions were the only
kids there. Everyone else was older, polished, able to own things in
their own names. All of the men wore tuxedos, even Shaw and Leland.
He couldn't see Pierce. Selene was not expected. Most of the women
were in black, especially the ones with non-standard shapes. Most of
the women weren't all that much older than he was, especially the
one coming towards him now. The woman had blonde hair and Rachel's
green eyes. He was afraid that if he looked, everyone in the room
would all have green eyes. The woman had the largest breasts and
smallest waist that he had ever seen on a human being. He couldn't
understand how the dress that she was wearing stayed attached to
her. Her companion was also blond, and was very large. The man's
hands were bigger than his own head. One was extended, unsteadily.
He clasped it and received a firm, but gentle shake.

"Club's taking in younger and younger members, I see,"

The man had a very upper class British accent, and was staring at
Kitty intently. In a trick of the light, the woman's hair appeared
to have taken on a reddish tinge.

"We're scholarship students at the school," said Kitty. "We were
asked to attend by Ms. Frost."

The large blond man laughed, professionally. His breath stank of
gin. His companion was steadying him. She appeared to be very
strong. Mutants? If so, they had to be Inner Circle members.

"Braddock. Brian Braddock. From the London chapter."

"Shaken, not stirred," he said. Kitty elbowed him sharply.

Braddock laughed again, in a well practiced manner.

"My name's Meggan," said the woman, in a light, breathy voice that
seemed to belong to a small child.

"Douglas Ramsey," said a voice from somewhere within him. "And this
is my friend, Katherine Pryde."

"We've heard of you," said Meggan.

"My card," said Braddock, handing him a small rectangle of paper
with very expensive printing on it. As he held it, red letters
formed themselves from the white background into a blunt message. Do
not move against Shaw. As soon as he had read it, the letters
vanished. Kitty didn't seem to have seen it. He put the card in his
pocket.

"Are you here for a long visit?" Kitty asked.

"That all depends," said Braddock.

"On what, if I may ask?", enquired Kitty, politely.

"On you," said the most beautiful woman in the world. She had
materialized at his right. She had thick purple hair but he couldn't
see her eyes behind the dark glasses. He knew that they weren't
green. But why was she wearing sunglasses at night? No white cane.

"The woman you're staring at so intently, Douglas, is my sister
Elizabeth," said Braddock. "Elizabeth, meet young Douglas and
Katherine."

"Charmed," said Elizabeth, extending her hand. It was an elegant,
almost perfect gesture, but was somehow awry. It was as if she was
seeing through her brother's eyes. Psi. Threat. An image of Rachel's
silent scream threw itself into his head. She winced.

"Kitty-," he started. Elizabeth threw her head back as if she was
about to laugh uproariously, then collapsed to the floor. Her
glasses fell off, revealing dark empty holes where her eyes had
been. She twitched once and went stiff. A dark stain appeared on the
front of her skirt. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

"Elizabeth!" exclaimed Braddock. He knelt beside his sister, who had
relaxed, but was panting heavily. A small crowd was forming around
them. He squeezed Kitty's arm as hard as he could. Where were the
words? A towel hit him in the forehead, as if from the inside of his
head. Instead, from somewhere, a remarkably beautiful woman was
trying to get to her feet in front of him.

"What?" hissed Kitty.

"I, I don't know," he said. "Who is she?"

"No need to crowd," said Braddock, imperiously. "It's just a minor
fit. Happens when she forgets to take her medication."

She was staring at him with empty sockets. She had a name. Why
couldn't he remember it?

"Hopeless," she slurred. "Too late. Already started. Nothing we can
do."

The blonde looked at him, terrified. "Brian, there has to be
something we can do."

"There is nothing we can do," snapped the blind woman. "It's done
and set in motion and there's not a bloody thing we can do."

The large man made faltering apologies, and the three withdrew.

"What the was that about?" Kitty asked.

"Don't know. Who were they?"

"What the fuck do you mean, who were they? They were-"

A frown crossed her face.

"I can't remember," she said. "Nerves."

There was something in his pocket that would help him recall their
names. He took out a card. It was blank. Kitty squeezed his hand,
hard.

"Hello, children." It was the Businessman, grinning confidently.
Beside him stood Tessa in a red silk dress and a red scarf tied to
cover her mouth and nose like a mask. The scarf was the colour of
blood. She was standing close enough that he could see that some of
the colour came from something other than dyes.

"Mr. Shaw," said Kitty.

"I understand that you have something for me," said the Businessman.

Tessa was looking away with bored eyes.

"We have ourselves to give you," said Kitty. "I see now that only
the strong survive. Doug and I want to survive. We wish to join the
Hellions, and the club."

"You do, do you?" enquired the Businessman, deliberately. "And what
do you want, young man?"

"To serve. To be anything you want me to be."

He hoped that he wasn't overdoing it. The Businessman grunted, then
smiled again.

"These are mere words. You must demonstrate fealty in actions, not
words. In ones so young as you, I would take from you the veil that
divides your childhood from your adult life. I understand that you
have usurped some of my privileges in this regard, Douglas."

The menace in the Businessman's voice was barley perceptible, but it
was there.

"You understand-" started Kitty with just a trace of a tremor in her
voice. She had gone almost completely rigid.

"Understand what?" said the Businessman.

"That there are other things besides veils," he said quietly. "Roses
in the desert that have never been cut."

The Businessman grinned.

"I like the way you think boy. You're ready for it."

Kitty's turn. She said nothing.

"We have a game," he said. "We thought it up ourselves."

He squeezed her elbow, in the hope that she might relax. She would
be shaking visibly soon, if she did not relax. He felt very calm,
now.

"A game," said the Businessman, still smiling.

"Yes, Mr. Shaw," he said. "In the conservatory. We call it Garden of
Eden. Dampers on, so no powers. Total nakedness."

Shaw frowned. "And what roles do you play?"

"Adam and Eve," said Kitty, shakily.

"So I'm the serpent?" said the Businessman. The menace was back,
just under the surface.

Kitty caught it. Her whole body was rigid again, as it had been the
night before.

"Oh no, Mr. Shaw," he improvised. "You're God."

A look of surprise crossed the businessman's face, but then he began
to laugh.

"Oh I do like the way you think, boy." The Businessman beckoned to
Tessa. "Come Lilith, let us repair to the garden."

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

He stood with his back against the pillar, watching it all unfold.
Doug and Kitty were together, across the room from him, talking to a
huge blond man and a woman who looked like a high-priced whore.
Twenty feet behind them, Shaw and Tessa were talking to Leland, also
watching Doug and Kitty. He could tell Shaw now. He could do
nothing. He could go and call the FBI, and hope that they sent
someone to Kentucky who could be trusted. Then again, the presence
of a deputy director of the FBI across the room talking to Roberto
and Emmanuel DaCosta suggested that might not be a good idea.

"Sam."

Dani stood beside him, with Rahne at her side.

"Dani. Having fun?"

He wished it hadn't come out sounding so sarcastic. Dani winced. At
least her eye had healed.

"What's happening, Sam?" asked Rahne.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Don't lie Sam," whispered Rahne. "If you need us-"

"Nothing is happening," he hissed.

"Glad to hear it, boy!"

A huge hand clapped him on the shoulder. Rahne turned white as a
sheet. Dani's eyes grew huge and she made a small choking sound.
Harry Leland was standing there, smiling broadly.

"Mr. Leland," began Dani.

"You girls are looking lovely this evening," said Leland. "I am
especially partial to those high-necked blouses, Miss Sinclair. They
do hint at the forbidden pleasures within."

Rahne looked as if she might be ill. Dani flushed, barely
suppressing a look of intense hatred.

"Why don't you lovely young ladies run along while I have a chat
with young Samuel here?"

Rahne nodded, and took Dani by the elbow.

"Good night, sir," she croaked. Dani said nothing, and they vanished
into the crowd.

"Now, Samuel, I suggest that we put aside pretense for now," said
Leland, still smiling. "I am afraid your little plot has gotten
quite out of hand. You were asked not to act, and yet you have. This
will not do at all."

"Mr. Leland, I don't know anything at all about any plot."

"I don't suppose it really matters whether you do or not. No. It
really doesn't matter. What does matter? What do you think is
important, Samuel?"

His mouth was dry. Leland had not intended the question to be
rhetorical.

"Well?"

He said the first thing that came to mind.

"Doing the right thing, sir."

"And who decides what is right?"

"I- I- don't know, sir. Depends."

"You're starting to think like a lawyer already, boy. Tell me, you
are a religious man, are you not?"

"I believe, sir."

"Protestant, no doubt. Presbyterian, if I recall."

"Yes."

"I'm Catholic myself. Fascinating business with your American
churches. So many of them, all broken up into little fragments like
a shattered stained glass window. All of you thinking you have a
personal contract with Jesus, crashing to your knees before black
iron crosses on white painted walls in plain little rooms that
reflect the poverty of your spirits."

"It doesn't seem that way to us, sir."

He felt himself flush. He wanted to say something about squandering
wealth on cathedrals, but then he didn't know any Catholic churches
in the hills that were any better fitted out than his own. Leland
was clearly trying to bait him.

"Do you have a personal contract with God, boy?"

"It doesn't work that way."

"Do you believe that you will be saved? That we'll all be burned
when the rapture comes? Where would that leave your little friends
Douglas and Katherine, eh?"

He wasn't sure. He spotted them on the opposite side of the room
talking to Shaw and Tessa.

"I am not a Pentecostal believer, sir."

"Do you believe that God has power over earthly affairs? Do you
believe that all of this happens according to God's will?"

"I think it's a very complicated question, sir."

"I expected a yes with that one. There's more to you than I thought,
boy."

He hated it when they assumed from his accent that he was stupid.

"I give it a great deal of thought, sir. It's important to me."

Leland was still smiling, but the look in the fat man's eyes was
grim.

"God cares nothing for us, Samuel. I learned that as a boy. My
father died, as yours did, before his work was done. My Mother sent
me to be educated at a boarding school run by an order of lay
teachers. They called themselves Brothers. Boys from all over the
Rock were there, and at night they taught us what right and wrong
truly were. I learned every important lesson in life there, boy. I
learned the way of the world."

Leland stepped closer until their faces were only inches apart.

"Power is all that is important. If you have enough of it, you are
right, no matter what the issue is. You have no notion of what power
really means, and neither do your friends. We wanted to teach you,
to give you a chance, but you've squandered it. You think you know
where it lies, and how to seize it, but you know nothing. Even kings
are not as omnipotent as they may seem."

Leland's eyes blazed. They burned into him, and he had the crazy
thought, for a fraction of second, that there was something to what
the Pentecostalists said about the devil walking the earth.

"We will have much more to say about this later. I am looking
forward to having many young talks with you and young Douglas about
this in the future. I believe that we will be seeing much more of
each other."

He couldn't see Shaw, Kitty or Doug anymore.

"They're not here anymore, Samuel. Within the hour, it will all be
over."

"What will be over?"

"You will see. In the meantime, I would like you to spend the next
twenty minutes standing in this very spot. Talk to anyone about
anything, as long as it is of no importance. If you so much as give
anything that even looks like signal, you will spend the next 48
hours strapped to a chair watching while we determine if your dear
sister Paige is a natural blonde. Do we understand each other?"

He nodded.

"I will be gracious and assume that your nod was not a signal. In
the meantime-"

Leland took a passing man by the arm and brought him round to face
them.

"This is a junior partner in my firm, Leonard Cole. Mr. Cole is a
great fan of the NBA, and I am sure he will have much to discuss
with you. Did you know, Leonard, that young Samuel here is a great
fan of the Chicago team? If you'll excuse me."

Leland disappeared, leaving him with the generic crewcut in a suit.

"So you're a protege of Mr. Leland?" asked the man, grinning
inanely.

"Yes," he managed to croak, unable to think of anything but how
Paige had run alongside the car as he left, the last time he had
been home.

"So how about those Bulls?"

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

She was frightened. Very frightened. The plan was unfolding exactly
as it ought to have, and she knew that the chance of its success was
almost certain once they stepped into the conservatory. Again and
again, she tried to figure out what it was that had caused her to
seize up, almost guaranteeing their deaths. Seizing up wasn't what
she was used to doing, and if she did it again, Doug would probably
die. As if to re-assure her, he squeezed her elbow as the
conservatory doors came into view. She almost winced. There would be
a large bruise on her elbow, tomorrow.

"Tessa," said Shaw. "Lock the doors! Close the blinds! See to the
dampers. Makes it all the more exciting. No possibility of escape!"

Shaw gave her a demented leer. He seemed completely consumed by the
desire to consume. Not pleasant to think of, if you were the food.

Beside the door, Tessa was making adjustments to a small control
panel. She heard the hum as the sound dampers and image enhancers
came on. Anyone standing outside would see dimly lit plants and hear
the sounds of the night, whatever went on inside. They were entirely
alone. From outside, Emma would be able to read both Tessa and Shaw,
but Tessa would be headblind. She hoped that Emma would finish it
quickly.

Shaw took of his jacket and carefully placed it on the handle of a
garden spade planted in the soil. His white shirt was completely
soaked with sweat. It wasn't that warm. He turned to her and licked
his lips. The urge to run was almost irresistible, but she never
ran. She simply could not remember what was supposed to happen
next. If Emma was on schedule, she should be deep inside Shaw's
mind. There were words to be said, a game that she was supposed to
pretend to play.

Shaw stepped forward and stopped, no more than a foot away. He
raised both his arms, and caressed both her own cheek and Doug's
with his enormous hands. It was a surprisingly gentle touch. She
suppressed a shudder. Doug didn't. Shaw smiled.

"So smooth, so smooth," he whispered.

She was supposed to say something. Start the game.

"Some skin is even smoother," said Doug, in a silky, soft voice. "It
never sees the light."  Emma's lessons had not been lost on him.

The smile on Shaw's face robbed her of any other words she might
have had. Fortunately, Shaw wasn't that interested in starting in on
her right away.

"I was at lunch with a president yesterday," he said. "Which one was
it Tessa?"

He didn't take his eyes off of Doug. She glanced behind and saw
Tessa looking very bored, and taking a cigarette out of a very badly
bruised mouth.

"Goneril," she said.

Gon- Code.

Neck like an oak staff. An oak staff could not be broken by a single
hand, no matter how strong.

Two hands. The other hand freed. A neck like steel cannot be broken
by two hands.

The hand shifts its grip, then lets go. They come together around a
head that falls to the ground screaming, blood pouring from its
nose, revealing the woman behind, dropping her cigarette, fumbling
in her purse, getting something large and black and heavy from her
purse-

Flight. Off the ground, through the air, all the energy expended in
collision. Her one hand on the gun, enclosed by two. Not a strong
hand, but desperate. Not letting go. Squeeze.

An explosion. A terrible scream. Three hands still hold the gun, in
terror. Desperation that overcomes the agony of the destroyed knee.
Drag it back. Squeeze. Another explosion and a groan. Two hands only
on the gun. Hers.

Crouching, she spun back to where they had been standing. Doug lay
on the ground twitching, his eyes wide open and staring at the
ceiling. Across his chest lay Shaw, bleeding heavily from the mouth
and nose, but still. She turned back to Tessa. The second bullet had
gone through Tessa's back and out through her stomach. She was
crawling towards the door, dragging herself forward with one hand,
holding her intestines in with the other. She was making remarkable
progress, pushing with her good leg and dragging the destroyed one
behind her. Tessa, the only person who might be able to rally the
troops around to Shaw, who might not be dead. Doug, who was
definitely dying. She shot Tessa's brains all across the ferns, then
turned to Shaw. He was still breathing in spite of losing at least a
quart of blood. She kicked him off of Doug, then emptied the rest of
the clip into his skull.

She knelt at Doug's side as his eyes rolled back into his head. He
wasn't breathing. Fifteen seconds ago, he had been standing beside
her. Now he needed a heart to keep the blood flowing and air to keep
his brain alive. It had to be a high break, possibly fixible by
Shi'ar medical xenotech that she should be able to get him to, if
she could keep him alive. She set to work.

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

She arrived only slightly later than she had expected to. It had
been a lot of fun, but it had taken longer than planned to deal with
Selene. If all had gone according to the plan, she should be on time
to take Shaw and any of his companions off to limbo for safekeeping.
The thought of having Shaw to play with made her very happy. She had
thought up some very interesting tortures for him.

One look told her that something had gone very wrong. Shaw and Tessa
were stone dead, non-recoverable. Kitty was crouched over Doug,
blowing into his mouth, then getting up to push on his chest. Doug's
neck was immobilized in a strange device made of stakes and garden
wire.

Kitty hadn't seen her. Suddenly, it wasn't fun anymore. She had
hoped to dispense with it all without speaking. She found words
difficult now, but she forced herself to find them.

"Kitty," she croaked. "He's gone."

Kitty looked up, grim, emotionless.

"Do something. Bring him back."

"I cannot. He's nowhere that I could reach him. I could only animate
the body."

There was a terrible pain in Kitty's eyes.

"I could go back," she said. "Try to return in the past. Before Shaw
attacked, or just after."

Anything to make that pain go away.

"Could you?" said Kitty, a ghost of a hope in her voice. "Could you
be _sure_ that you could stop him?"

"No," she said. "I could not be sure. I might arrive early enough to
give you away. I could arrive before I took Selene, and she might
have been ready for me. It could become very complicated. Very
dangerous."

"But Doug would live"

"He might. We all might for a while."

"He's gone," Kitty whispered.

"As is Selene. I could bring back his body, if-"

"NO. No. Get rid of those two. Take them, drop them from high up, to
somewhere where they won't be found for a month or two. Drop them
from high enough that no one will know that they were shot."

"And you do not want me to go back."

"I do. Oh God, I do, but we can't afford the risk."

She leaned forward and hugged Kitty as hard as she could. Kitty
stiffened in surprise, then softened. She hugged her only human
friend, knowing that now they were both damned.

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

She had 30 minutes until she was expected below. She would have to
lead the orgy herself, but it would be downstairs, not here. No-one
would be coming to her study tonight, except her conspirators.
Queens had cool temperaments, and didn't smash everything in sight
when they found that they had been made fools of. Why had she never
considered it? Why had she not seen the contempt under those
muttered asides and clever comments? Why had she imagined that,
among all of his women, she was different?

Her reverie among broken glass was interrupted by the architect of
her sorrows.

"Emma," said Kitty, icy-calm. "Who attacked you?"

"I did. Made a fool of myself. Leland's on his way to New York, to
take control of Shaw's enterprises, and Pierce is on ice downstairs
with his power packs removed. Selene?"

"Taken care of," croaked Illyana. "No threat."

The girl looked like death. She made eye contact and had to grind
her palm into a shard of broken glass to stop herself from
screaming. That girl would have to die. She knew it. She briefly
read Kitty. Cold. Ice-cold. She ground her palm into the glass
again.

"Emma, what the fuck happened? How did he know?"

"I have no idea, Katherine. I read nothing from him. Perhaps,
Selene?"

Selene had battled against him at the meeting that afternoon to
which she had not been invited. Selene had argued for the children
against Sebastian's call for blood. She might have been an ally,
but now she had met God only knows what fate at the hands of the
devil-girl.

"Not Selene," growled Illyana. "Selene is mine."

The girl drew out a pouch that she had seen through three pairs of
eyes the night before. Kitty did not turn back to look at her
friend. Instead, she was keeping herself cold. The ice slipped for a
moment, and she could read the pain within. Horrible. Even worse was
the red, pulsing thing that Illyana held in her hand. Illyana was
grinning, as if she were a delighted small child, seeing a wonder
for the first time.

"See?" croaked Illyana delightedly. "No Selene anymore. Thirty
minutes and it's still beating."

She almost threw up. To stop herself, she dragged her hand across
the table. Red lines appeared across her palm, widening as she
watched.

"Put that away," said Kitty quietly, not turning back to look.
"Emma, is the installation secured?"

"Yes. The bodies are gone?"

Illyana giggled. She looked away from the terrible face, staring
longingly at the piece of bloody glass on the floor. Blue fire shot
up her arm and she screamed. Pain, like nothing she had ever felt
before. She flexed her hand. No pain. No cut. Illyana giggled again.

"They are gone. Illyana fixed the conservatory for now, but you'll
need new plants. All the ones that she touched will be dead within a
week."

"Plants can be replaced. I am very sorry about Douglas. Oh, God, I
just wasn't quick enough, not looking-"

"It's done Emma. We need to bury him. Get him out of the way fast.
No autopsy, no attention. Can you do it?"

"What about the others?"

"What about them?"

"They will need a funeral."

"No funeral. This is war, Emma. Until we're secure, he'll be most
valuable as a martyr."

Illyana reached out and touched Kitty's arm. Kitty shrugged it off.
The faint look of concern on Illyana's face was eclipsed by a glare
of infinite malice.

"Katherine. I didn't know you had it in you."

A lie. She had known. She knew that she might be safest if she
killed them both, now. She knew that she never would.

"They won't like it. They don't like me, but with Doug dead they
just might be confused about it all enough to keep from running."

"Perhaps. I must go. There are matters to attend to."

"Go. I'll be waiting when you get back."

There was a purr in the last phrase that was as false as the welcome
in Doug's last words. The fear thrilled her. Illyana made as if to
summon a disc.

"Wait," said Kitty. "Emma, can you read my mind?"

"No. I cannot read your mind."

She amazed herself with the calm tone of her reply. She was half out
of her mind with terror. She could read what Kitty wanted to do to
her if she were to find out, but she was used to reading thoughts
like that.

"Good," said Kitty, vanishing into the black disc.

She hoped that Illyana wasn't there when Kitty found out that she
could. Perhaps she would tell Kitty herself, then, just to see what
would happen.

[Next: The Burial of the Dead]

=====