Logan was almost afraid to pause and let Bob take the lead but he did because, as always, curiosity got the better of him. This really was going to kill him one day.

Cressida's room turned out to be just down the hall from his, separated only by two other rooms. Once Bob opened the door and went in, he saw that Cressida - much like himself - didn't make herself much at home, or perhaps just didn't have time.  As a shapeshifter who went liquid when she relaxed, she had no clothes at all, or any need for make up, combs, et cetera, so she probably traveled lighter than most. There was a towel on the floor, though, and he wondered if she shoved it under the door so she didn't accidentally seep out while asleep.

Bob went to the dresser and picked up the only item besides the towel in the otherwise generic room.  He punched something on it with his thumb and tossed it to him.  Even as Logan caught it, he wasn't sure what it was.

"It's a palm top," Bob told him, then clarified, "Sort of a palm pilot with wi-fi connections."

"Okay," Logan agreed, having no fucking clue what he was on about. It did look like a palm pilot though, flat and about the size of his hand, although the graphics on it were slightly better. Okay, hand-held computer, like on Star Trek. Got it.

"She apparently was typing out an email for you," Bob said, gesturing for him to read the screen. "So Scott was going to get his wish after all - she was planning to take off - but she wanted to leave you a message. You were both Organization, after all."

That statement made him wary.  He glanced at the screen with great trepidation.  It read: "Wolverine, I know they fucked with your head, so you probably don't remember any of this shit. But Static was a great hacker, and routinely took a walk around some of the hidden files in the Org comps before they wiped them.  Shortly before she died, she found something interesting.  There was a reference to a cloning project involving the Alphas, but it wasn't Armageddon - this one was called Project Eidolon (fuck them and their fruity names).  And in case you don't remember this either, the Alphas were what they considered the "premium" mutants, the best killers and the ones with the most useful powers.  I was an Alpha.  So was Static, Timebomb, Spider, Reaper, Inferno, Atomic, Dreamer, Ballistic, Impulse, and you, of course.  Eidolon also branched out into what was referred to as "genetic recombination", but some of us were eliminated from that part of the project - me, for one, as Static found a record saying my genes were far too mutable to allow any successful recombining.  They'd just take on the "flavor" of whatever was introduced.  I thought it was just the Chimera project, but she said no, this was separate, according to the files she found.

Static never did get back to me on what this was all about, but then again, she was dead.  Maybe this was a terminated project, or maybe this was like Project Sleeper - so deeply buried she didn't find much, if anything at all. I don't know. But I thought you should know that Armageddon, while an actual threat, was not the only project where they used us.  They used us - the Alphas especially - a lot.  They knew we were the future, and they wanted to manipulate it as much as they could. You can't fight the future, but goddamn it, they tried.  They fought future with future, and hoped it would all even out in the end.  No wonder their species is doomed."

That was how the message ended, and he didn't know if that was where she meant to stop, or if she had simply run out of time. "Clones?" He said aloud, and chuckled bitterly. "They haven't even perfected that with sheep yet, have they?"  He tossed the palm top back to Bob, feeling vaguely ill.

"You know what we're dealing with here," Bob said, putting the computer back on Cressida's useless dresser. "The rules they play by are far ahead of what's available in the mainstream."

"So she's saying there's clones of us running around out there somewhere?"

"Not necessarily. Recombination suggests they were trying to build better yous - 'fight the future with the future'. The problem is, we have no idea if they were successful, or if any of the experiments are currently living - they've been clearing out their little problem, remember?"

"But you said she could still be alive."

"Cressida was perfect for cloning," he admitted. "Her unique genetic structure could apparently "regenerate" itself, even from just a small amount of material.  It would take a while, but theoretically you could get another copy of her from just one ounce of ... well, her.  And before you ask - no, we can't do that now.  The Shafans burned her to a crisp, from the genes up.  She's not regenerating from that."

Logan rubbed his eyes, and laughed again, covering up the anger that was swelling inside him. What hadn't those fucking monsters taken from them?  Freedom, reproductive rights, their minds - nothing was off limits. “I kinda suspected something like this,” he reluctantly admitted. “After Srina told me that I told her that the Organization had a full biological catalog of me, from DNA to sperm samples - what else were they gonna use that fuckin’ stuff for?  I guess I just hoped they‘d failed, or Armageddon was the end of it.”

Bob’s look was infuriatingly pitying. “I’ve got my connections on it.  I’ll see what I can dig up.”

“Fine. But who the fuck are these people?  Dreamer, Impulse, Ballistic ..?  I’ve never heard those code names before.”

He shrugged. “Well, mate, we can’t ask Cressie, so I’m just hoping we can find out.  Maybe they’re still alive and out there somewhere.”

“Which does us no good. We don’t know their real names, or the names they’re using now.”

“But that still may be enough for me to find something on them,” Bob countered. “Also, you could ask Marcus - for a civilian, he has dug up an impressive amount of information on these people. He missed his calling as a muck raking journalist.”

Logan shrugged in a half-hearted agreement, aware Marcus was still overseas, helping the European Union shut down mutant exploiters.  Proof that you didn’t need to work with Xavier to get things done. “Marc has connections. Also, he’s pretty smart.”

“Must be all that philosophy shit.”

Logan realized that what the Organization may have or may have not done to him was suddenly at the top of his do-not-discuss list, knocking Yasha into second place.  That was quick. “Who else - ”

But Bob didn’t let him finish. “No one.  I ended up seein’ if there was anything to clean up in here myself after Scott stormed off in an angry huff.”

Logan quickly sorted through the memories Bob had given him to see if he could find the reason why. “’Cause he led the team where Cressida died?”

“Well, no, although that upset him because it brought up memories of Jean.  No, he stormed off because
of Jean.”

“Huh?”

“I told them.”

He felt a sudden stab of panic. “Told them what?”

“That Jean never really died, and that she was transformed by Cammy.”

“I bet that went down like a barium shake.”

Bob grimaced as if at a painful memory, but as usual lost little of his flippant nature. “Chuck wasn’t all that surprised - he knew she was still out there somewhere - but it was still a shock, since no one guessed the Camaxtli angle. Scott went nuclear, as I figured he would.  I shut off his power, though, and while I allowed him to grab me by the shirt, I froze him otherwise.  I misjudged his reaction to that.”

“Made things worse?”

“In a way, yes. He felt emasculated, and my connection to the whole Cammy thing - and the Shafan demons connection with the Cammy thing … well, it was just too much for him, ya know?  He thinks I’m a lyin’ scumbag who sacrificed his fiancée to the bloodthirsty war god, and that I’ve been playin’ you all along.”

“Why would you bother? You’re powerful enough to make us all do what you want and never tell us about it.”

“Yes, but that’s logical. Scott wasn’t being logical.  He was emotionally distraught and made a rash decision.”

“Which was?”

“He quit the X-Men. Chuck tried to say it wasn’t necessarily my fault - what faint praise - and Scott threw down his communicator doohickey so hard it broke like a made-in-Taiwan watch.  He said he quit and stormed out like a big ol’ drama queen.”

Logan was honestly surprised, because he didn’t think Scott had the balls to do something like that. “Does he have a life outside the institute?”

“Not as such, no.”

“So where the fuck did he go?”

“Well, as far as I could tell, he swanned off to get stinkin’ drunk.”

“He doesn’t drink.”

“He wants to learn.”

Logan rolled his eyes, wondering how pathetic it must have been to be Scott.  He couldn’t even imagine what it must have been like to be wound up that tight - how had his spine never snapped?  “So he’s off somewhere tryin’ to get sloshed on Shirley Temples?  It’ll probably do him some good.  Well, until the rednecks assume he’s gay and jump him.”

“Which is why I’m glad you’re here. I was thinking - “

It was Logan’s turn to jump ahead in the conversation. “No.”

Bob looked at him, perfectly innocent, which was such a joke.  An “innocent” Bob was like a slender hippo - never gonna happen on this fucking planet. “No what?”

“You were gonna tell me to go get him before he gets his ass beaten to a pulp. I didn’t come back here to babysit Scooter.”

“Assume ten guys, some with weapons, but only one with a gun. How long would it take you to put them all down?”

“Two minutes, forty seven seconds. Tops.”

That made Bob looked at him slightly askance, trying not to grin. “You’ve timed it down to the second?”

“I was guessing,” he replied defensively.

But Bob shook his head, folding his arms across his chest as the grin broke out on his face in spite of his efforts at self-control. “Ya know, ya just proved my point.”

“What, that if Scott gets the floor mopped up with his face, I’m the only one that could end it quickly?”

“Yes.”

“You could end it quicker.”

“Are you forgetting he hates me right now?”

“He hates me too.”

Bob shook his head. “He resents you.  There’s a difference.”

Logan rolled his eyes. Only Bob would bother to parse the many variations of intense dislike.

On a completely different topic, only related because it was Jean, Logan asked, “Is it even remotely possible she killed him?”

He meant Camaxtli, and Bob knew it.  His expression became unusually grim. “No. I’m sure he was weakened - Eris can kick all our asses, and doesn’t need to get outta bed - but a weakened god is still a god. You were right to suspect he’s still in there somewhere - Cammy’s probably up to something. What I have no idea, but you have to keep in mind he’s an ageless bugger with a taste for senseless destruction. He’s crafty, he’s clever, and he’s unfathomably vicious when he sets his mind to it.  He’s using her, and making sure she’s got no clue about it.” He then flashed his a cheesy, insincere smile. “Make sure not to mention this when you go get the Boy Scout.”

He was in no mood to argue, or to think for that manner. A beer did sound really good right now, and he was sure no one had stocked some especially for him.  Perhaps tracking down Scott and dragging his sorry, scrawny ass home was the lesser of the two evils. “Fine, if I go get him, you’ll have to do what I came here to do.”

Bob had to think about it. “And that is ..?”

“The message. You broke enough shocking news to ’em today, right?  What’s one more?” Logan quickly turned and walked out, before Bob could change his mind.  Of course, he could have frozen him in place, but all he heard was Bob’s heavy sigh as he continued down the hall.  He probably figured saving Scott’s ass was the most important thing.

But Logan paused in the empty corridor, not bothering to turn back as he asked the one question that had been making his head hurt ever since he returned from Japan. “Is there any way we can save her?”

Bob was quiet for a long time - too long - and Logan thought maybe he hadn’t heard him.  But of course he did, and Logan really didn’t like the defeat he heard in his normally cheerful voice. “I don’t know, Logan. I’ll do my best.”

And that was all he could he ask, but it still made him feel strangely shaky and ill. If it came down to killing Jean to protect them all from Camaxtli … how could they do it?  How could anyone?  Bob might up for it, but if he did, Logan wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to forgive him, even though he knew very well the threat Camaxtli posed to the world.

He tried to console himself with the knowledge that this wasn’t something they had to worry about right now, but how long could they coast on ignorance?

Because that was the message that Jean had wanted him to deliver to the others:  She was coming back. As soon as possible.

_______

The End

(To be continued….)