Legends

by Unknown Author

  Colossus’s mouth quirked ruefully. “Actually, he made me replace every weight I damaged, out of my student stipend. At one point, I owed him money for three months. It was an unsettling experience, so soon after I left Russia. I did not realize how expensive the equipment was.”

  “Well,” she said, shrugging, “we might as well stop, unless you want to keep working with that thing the way it is.”

  “No, thank you, Comrade Callistohe said quickly, and set the ruined dumbbell on the bench. “It would pull to the side too much.” That was a lie, and he knew Callisto knew it, but she let it pass. “All right, then,” she said. “Now you get to try the change again.”

  Colossus grimaced. He hated this part of the session, when he tried to change from his armored form to human. The first time they’d tried it, he’d collapsed, unconscious, and Moira had given Callisto the sharp side of her tongue. Callisto kept pushing him, though; there was no other way to get the neural pathways working again.

  “Very well,” he said, and closed his eyes. After a moment the cords in his neck stood out and his hands, doubled into fists, began to tremble. A ripple passed over the organic steel of his skin, a sort of bow wave of pink as his body tried to turn to flesh again. His back arched and his head fell back, eyes wide and staring, mouth open in a silent scream as pain spread along his limbs. The ripple widened and gained speed, so that his body almost seemed to flash from silver to pink and back; for a moment he thought he was going to manage it, but he fell to his knees with a strangled cry. He braced himself against the floor with one hand.

  “Sorry . . . Comrade Callisto ... I cannot. . .”

  “You nearly made it this time, Tin Man,” she said, in what, for her, was a gentle tone. “It’s getting easier.”

  The giant Russian gave a humorless laugh as he pushed himself upright. “Easier is a relative term,” he said.

  At that moment, an alarm klaxon sounded, a braying blare of noise. Moira MacTaggart and the medical team burst through the infirmary door, hustling a gumey toward the isolation unit. Callisto shifted as the gumey passed her, and swore violently under her breath when she saw the patient’s face.

  It was Jessie, one of the two Morlock children who had made it to

  Muir Island. Callisto started forward, but Colossus laid his massive hand on her shoulder and held her in place.

  “No, Comrade Callisto,” he said, his voice pitched low. “Let Dr. MacTaggart take care of her.”

  Callisto twisted out from under his fingers and turned to glare up at him. “I don’t know how you X-Men do things, but we Morlocks take care of each other,” she snarled, and jerked past him, following Moira and the gumey.

  Colossus shook his head and went after her. It seemed that life had become a series of medical emergencies ever since the Marauders attacked the Morlock tunnels beneath the island of Manhattan. Very few Morlocks were left alive after that, and the X-Men had suffered casualties as well: Colossus and Nightcrawler were both left comatose, and Shadowcat had been trapped in an ethereal state, unable to turn off her phasing power.

  Things had been looking up, however. Shadowcat was on the mend, thanks to the intervention of Reed Richards of the Fantastic Four, though she still could not achieve a solid form, and Colossus was on the road to recovery. Nightcrawler, though, was still in a coma.

  The Morlocks, however, weren’t all that lucky. Colossus prayed that Jessie would not be the next member of that outcast group of mutants to die.

  When they got to the isolation unit, the emergency team was transferring Jessie to a hospital bed.

  Moira looked up and opened her mouth to order them out, saw Cal-listo’s scowl, and went about her work without a word. Callisto stood quietly while the medical team worked over Jessie, but as soon as they seemed to be finished, she stepped over to Moira.

  MacTaggart held up her hand before Callisto could speak, and waved the medical team out of the room. When they’d gone she spoke. “She was out playin’, and Jamie Madrox heard her scream. When he got to her, she was lying on the strand in convulsions, and boulders were explodin’ all around her. Her mutant power was out of control. It took him five minutes to get to her, for having to dodge the buggers.” She pushed her glasses up with her knuckles. “Now,” she went on, “before the ... Before you brought her here, had her power started to manifest?”

  Callisto nodded. “There had been three or four incidences.”

  “And she’d sustained a blow to the head in the fighting?”

  “Yes,” Callisto replied shortly. “She was unconscious for days.” “Ach,” Moira said softly, “I remember. A nasty concussion she had, poor bairn. But she seemed fine once she woke,” Her brow furrowed. “But now that I come to think,” she said, “I don’t remember her powers manifesting while she’s been here. Is that right?”

  Callisto thought for a moment, then nodded. “She was supposed to report to a grown-up if it did.”

  “Bloody hell,” Moira swore. “Having the powers shut off like that is a bad sign.” She sighed heavily. “Well, we have a new problem now. She’s in a coma. There’s naught to be done, save keep her comfortable, until her power settles down.”

  “Keep her comfortable? That’s all?” Callisto took a step toward Moira, thrusting her face to within an inch of the other woman’s, snarling.

  Moira was unfazed by the threat. “I will do what’s best for my patient,” she said in a deceptively even tone, “and when you have your own medical degree, I’ll listen to your suggestions. Now clear out and let me help the child as much as I can.”

  “Comrade Callisto, Dr. MacTaggart is right,” Colossus said from the door. “There is nothing we can do here, and your anger will not help Jessie.”

  Callisto rounded on the Russian, ready to light into him next, when the cardiac monitor began to beep faster. Jessie moaned, and Callisto was by the bedside in an instant. “Jess?” she said, “Jess, are you awake?”

  The child’s eyes opened and the monitor began to beep erratically. She stared, not seeing anything in the room; then her back arched and her mouth opened as though to scream, and the blanket folded at the end of the hospital bed flew into the air and burst into flames.

  Callisto swore and snatched at the burning cloth, but Colossus was there before her and batted it out of the air. It landed in a heap on the floor and he stomped the flames out with his massive foot.

  Moira hurried to the drug cabinet and began preparing a syringe. The mirror over the sink exploded, sending deadly shards flying, and

  Moira cried out as one sliced through her lab coat and scored her ribs, but never stopped what she was doing.

  Colossus had the presence of mind to bend over Jessie, protecting her from the flying glass, which merely bounced off his armored skin.

  "Move!" Moira shouted, and Colossus straightened, throwing up an arm to fend off a flying roll of burning bandages, which Callisto stomped out. Moira fumbled one-handed for the injection port as small items flew off the shelves of the drug cabinet and burst into flames or exploded, and injected the contents of the needle into the IV line. Within seconds, Jessie’s back relaxed and the flying objects fell to the floor. The heart monitor settled into a slow, uneven rhythm. Colossus found the fire extinguisher and began putting out the fires.

  Moira blew out a breath and dropped the syringe into the disposal bin. “Well,” she said, “I see we’ll have to amend the dosage.”

  “What?” Callisto hissed. “What do you mean, amend the dosage?” Moira sighed and pushed her glasses up with her knuckles again. “The sedative we gave her before wore off too quickly.” She pulled a stethoscope out of her pocket and bent over Jessie, listening to her lungs.

  “But I thought you said she was in a coma,” Callisto said, narrowing her eye. “Why does she need sedatives?”

  “Because if she begins to regain consciousness, her power goes berserk,” Moira replied tiredly as she straightened up. “We can f wake her up, not unless we can figure out how to get her po
wer under control. You saw what happened just now. Do you think she could stand that kind of thing for long?” She moved to the cardiac monitor and began checking the printout for the last few minutes. “Ach!” she said, pulling the paper through her fingers, “It’s worse than I thought. That last siezure put enormous strain on her heart. If there’s another episode, it’ll kill her.” She looked up at Callisto, grim-faced.

  “And if she wakes up, it’ll happen again,” Callisto said tonelessly. Moira nodded, one short jerk of her chin. “I’m afraid we’re goin’ to lose her, no matter what we do.”

  Callisto’s jaw tensed. “Then you’d better come up with something,” she said through her teeth, “because I’m not willing to give up on her. If Jessie dies I’ll cut you up into pieces too small to use for bait.” She turned on her heel and stalked out of the small room.

  ^ ^

  The next morning when Colossus came for his physical therapy session, Callisto was not there. Colossus smiled to himself: she was always caustic if he was so much as a minute behind time. But when she still had not arrived after fifteen minutes, he began to worry and went to look for her.

  She was in the isolation unit with Jessie. Once he saw her there, he realized that he wasn’t completely surprised. What did surprise him, however, was the fact that she was reading to the child. He stepped back from the large window that looked into the room, moving so that the curtain to one side of the glass would hide most of him if she looked up.

  But she never did. She bent over the book, absorbed in the story. She looked odd, almost wrong, somehow, and Colossus realized that for the first time in their acquaintance, she didn’t look strung taut, waiting to launch herself at the next problem. Her voice, though he could not understand the words through the glass, had a gentleness in it, even in the midst of what were obviously rousing action scenes, that held him fascinated until she paused to reach for a glass of water on the table next to the bed.

  It seemed a shame to interrupt her, but she’d have his head on a plate if he skipped the session. He took a deep breath and tapped gently on the glass with his finger.

  Callisto started when she heard the noise, and in an instant she went into what, even seated, was a defensive posture. She turned, scanning for trouble, and scowled when she saw Colossus. She closed the book and laid it on the table, pausing for a moment to smooth Jessie’s hair from her forehead before she strode to the door.

  “What?” she demanded once she was outside. She’d forgotten their session completely. Colossus knew better than to grin.

  “I believe it it time for our therapy session,” he said gravely, and she swore under her breath.

  “Right,” she said. “Okay, then, why are we wasting time here? Let’s go.”

  That day’s session was the roughest one she’d put him through yet. He was happy to find that his coordination was returning along with his strength, and that both were nearly back to normal. When she finally asked him to try the transformation again he didn’t complain, because he knew that she’d let him rest afterward. He fared a little better than he had the day before, but still could not complete the change.

  Callisto gave a satisfied nod. “You’re doing better, and you really don’t need these sessions anymore. Consider yourself declared fit for duty.” She turned and walked away without waiting for a reply.

  Even though Callisto had ended the therapy sessions, Colossus continued to go to the infirmary at the usual hour. It was a good time to visit Nightcrawler. He hated to see his friend so still; in all the time he had known Kurt Wagner, Colossus had rarely seen him motionless, and it was disturbing. But Moira said that somewhere in there, Kurt might be aware of what was going on around him, so Colossus followed Kitty’s example, and talked to him.

  “Friend Kurt,” he said when he arrived on the third morning, “I see you have company.” Jessie had been moved from the isolation unit to a bed at the near end of the main ward. He was glad to see it; perhaps it meant she was getting better.

  “When you are both well,” he went on, “the two of you will get along famously. She loves to play hide-and-seek.” For a moment he sat, watching Kurt, thinking of all the times the furry blue teleporter had popped in on him with no warning, and a smile tugged at the comers of his mouth. It had sometimes been annoying, but Jessie would have loved it.

  Another voice drew his attention, and he looked up to find Callisto sitting next to Jessie’s bed. She was reading again, and Colossus shook his head.

  “I do not think I would have believed it if I had not seen it with my own eyes,” he said softly. “Comrade Callisto did not seem the type to read aloud.” He looked at Kurt, imagining his response to the sight of Callisto with a book.

  For a time he kept silent, listening to the rise and fall of Callisto’s voice. As before, Colossus could not make out the words, but the sound of her voice was comforting. He waited for a pause in the narrative, then, with a whispered good-bye, left Kurt’s bedside.

  He had to pass Jessie’s bed on the way out, and as he got nearer, he began to make out the words Callisto was reading.

  He stopped, fearing his footsteps would disturb her, and watched in amazement as she continued to read. She looked so different, not at all like the bitter, cynical woman who had cracked the whip during his therapy. Her face, without its customary scowl and curled lip, looked much younger, and even the black eyepatch she wore seemed somehow less fierce and intimidating. For the first time he noticed that she was starting to lose the gaunt, emaciated look she’d had when they came to Muir Island.

  She seemed to sense that he was behind her, and her posture did that queer shift he had seen before. She closed the book and stood up. By the time she was out of the chair, the scowl had come back to her face.

  “What?” she snapped, and her scowl deepened, but Colossus thought that he caught a faint undertone of embarrassment in her voice.

  “I am sorry, Comrade Callisto,” he said, looking down at his silver toes. “I did not mean to disturb you. I was ... I could not help listening.” He looked up again, curiosity in his face. “What is that story? I have not heard it, I am sure, but it sounds familiar.”

  “The Wizard of OzT she said, and Colossus nodded. Kitty had made him watch the movie with her once.

  “Ah,” he said, and then could think of nothing else. For a moment they stood, staring at each other. “Well,” Colossus said after an uncomfortable moment, “please do not let me keep you from your reading.” He gave a small nod and walked past her. If his armored skin had been capable of it, he would have been blushing.

  Over the next several days he watched for Callisto when he visited Kurt, hoping to hear more of the story. Oddly, after that first day, she read a little louder and he could make out most of her words. After a few days, her voice began to sound strained, and one morning she closed her book with a snap.

  “Look,” she said sharply, “if you want to hear this, come on over here and listen. My throat’s getting sore.”

  Colossus, caught, did not reply.

  “Well, come on, Tin Man,” she said irritably when he didn’t move. “I don’t have all day, here.”

  After that, Colossus made a point to be in the infirmary when she was reading—he found out her schedule from Moira. Several times, when she’d finished reading and they were both leaving the infirmary, they began talking about the passage she’d just read, discussing it all the way to the dining hall. During those talks he was amazed to find that Callisto could hold up her end of a conversation when she wanted to. He told no one of his discovery—no one would have believed him. To everyone else in the island complex, she presented exactly the same taciturn, scowling face that she always had, snarling at people if they tried to make friendly overtures. But there was definitely a chink in the emotional armor she’d layered around her to keep people from getting too close, and Colossus was glad. The woman behind that armor was lonely, and needed a friend, and he meant to be that friend.

  Kitty, of cour
se, was the fist one to notice that Callisto behaved differently to Colossus.

  They were in the Battle Room. She was perched in the air, watching him go through a simple practice routine. She took no notice when the solid holographic opponents and their weapons passed through her phased form, though she did him the courtesy of moving out of his way when he would have passed through her as well.

  “Much better,” she said when he had finished. “You knocked five seconds off your best time.” She twisted around in the air so that she appeared to be lying on her stomach. “So,” she said nonchalantly, after a pause, and Colossus groaned inwardly. “What’s up with you and Callisto?” ' ' ’

  Colossus lifted an eyebrow at her. “Nothing.”

  Kitty sat up again. “Oh, come on, Peter, I don’t believe that for one minute. She’s.. . different when you’re around. Haven’t you noticed?”

  Truthfully, he had. He’d hoped it was because they were becoming friends, but Kitty seemed to think there was another reason. Best to disabuse her of that idea, and quickly.

  “We have been discussing a book she is reading to Jessie,” he said, and Kitty gave an unladylike snort.

  “Right. Discussing a book. Look, Peter . . .”

  “Kitty,” Colossus interrupted sternly. “Callisto is worried about Jessie, and needs a friend.”

  “Callisto doesn’t need anybody.” She stood up and came over to him, putting a phantom hand on his arm. “Look, you need to be careful, okay? Callisto isn’t someone you want to be too friendly toward. She’s not used to it, and she could take it wrong. She’ll turn on you, Peter, if you push her too far.”

  Colossus sighed. Kitty had seen the Morlock at her worst, more than once. But that was blinding her to the changes in Callisto, he was sure of it. And there had been changes for the better, since they’d come to Muir Island.

  “Do not worry,” he said. “Callisto has lost much, and that loss has changed her. She is not entirely the same woman you remember.”

  Kitty frowned. “That’s for sure. The woman I remember wouldn’t have been snooping around about your personal life.”