PALE REIGN OVER GESHEM - CHAPTER 25

     They moved quickly along the tunnel. 
Lustre guiding, the Hunter behind, Cyclops
bringing up the rear.  
     The tunnels were dark, except for a
spell-conjured sphere of light that bobbed above
Lustre's head.  They moved at a fast walk, the
ground too treacherous to go faster, the sense
of urgency allowing nothing slower.
     "Something is happening." Lustre's voice
was low.
     "Explain." Cyclops had found the woman to
be much her counterpart in his world...
enigmatic, curt to most, and full of surprises.
     "There's a spell being cast... but it's...
wrong... somehow."
     "Stab your eyes, witch, tell us more than
that."
     Lustre flashed a dangerous look at the
Hunter's words.  Cyclops again wondered what had
gone before between the women.  Something
involving the Gambler, to be sure.
     "Your Mage never taught you to sense the
flows... oh of course not, forgive me, you have
not the gift..."
     Cyclops was suddenly glad he couldn't see
Stephanie's reaction to that.  Lustre continued.
     "... all sorcery requires a life force. 
Most spellcasters use their own.  Some can use
the life forces of others, and there are other
kinds... the Pale Man dabbles in necromancy..."
     "Using the forces of the dead, I _do_ work
for a Mage, witch... get to the point."
     "Someone is casting a spell... but it
seems... the caster is drawing on something that
pulls at the flows... something so very
wrong..."
     "MAKE IT STOP!"
     The attack came so suddenly, none of them
could have reacted in time.  From a darkened
alcove, a figure shouted as it lunged forward,
barrelling into Cyclops before he could turn his
head to release a blast, or raise any other kind
of defence.  
     His attacker was strong, but only humanly
so.  Cyclops rolled with the attack, and the foe
grabbed onto his shoulders and held.  They
rolled across the floor.  The man was shouting
and trying to shake Cyclops even as he struggled
to free himself.  A twist of his body brought
his face in line with the attacker, but what he
saw made him hesitate to press the palm trigger
that raised his visor.
     His attacker was him.
     The other Scott Summers tightened his grip
on Cyclops' shoulders and slammed him back
against the floor.  Stunned, Cyclops heard the
man babbling.
    
"Makeitstopmakeitstopmakeitstopcallingsingingstopstop..."
     "Stop." Lustre said.
     Cyclops felt a wave of drowsiness pass
over him.  He fought against it, but the other
Scott Summers slumped down, falling heavily
across his chest and shoulder.  The Hunter
reached down and pulled him up while Cyclops
stood and looked down at himself.
     The man was dirty and bedraggled.  His
cloths, given to him by the thieves, were torn
and bloodstained.  His hands were cut and
bruised in a way that suggested he had been
fighting.  There were shallow cuts on his thigh
and arm that looked like sword wounds.  He
moaned slightly.
     "We lost him in the fighting.  Young Alex
said some red-eyes had broken through and
thought him slain.  Apparently not."
     "What did you do to him?" Cyclops asked.
     "A simple sleep-glamour.  The geas spell
seems to be affecting him strongly."
     "Can you help him?"
     "I can block the spell, somewhat."
     "Then why didn't you before?". the Hunter
asked before Cyclops could.
     "I was curious as to the source of the
spell.  Blocking it would make finding the
origin an impossibility."
     "I'm sure he would appreciate your
concern, witch."
     Lustre barely acknowledged the Hunter's
sarcasm.
     "Block the spell.  We can't leave him
behind."
     "As you wish, Cyclops."  
     The Queen of the thieves of Geshem knelt
down by the drowsing man.  Her hands went to
either side of his head.  She closed her eyes
and Cyclops heard her whisper words that
vanished from his mind even as he tried to
remember them.
     She stood up.
     "It is done.  The geas is quite strong. 
He may still be..."
     "Calling me... Lee..." Scott sat bolt
upright, the words pouring out as he looked
around nervously.  His eyes held each of them
for an instant.  Cyclops saw fear, curiosity and
a careful measuring all pass through eyes he had
seen but a few times in his life.   They were
his, but no inhibitor collar or psychic link to
Jean was giving him this view.
             *     *     *     
     "Relax, you're among friends.  Do you
remember us?" 
     Scott looked at the man talking to him. 
He remembered the cave and the other... the
other him.  He remembered everything that had
happened since he fell in with the thieves, but
it was all hazy.  It was as if he had been very
drunk... well, he never had been, but certainly
this was what it was like.    
     Dimly, in the back of his head, he felt
a... pulling.  This was all so far beyond
anything he knew.  He missed his wife, he missed
the reality he knew... and sickly enough, he
wasn't sure he could turn away from the call in
his head even if he could go home that very
instant.
     "I'm Scott Summers." he said, more to
break the silence than for any other reason.
     "I know," his double spoke, "so am I."
     "I... I know.  There is another also,
isn't there?"
      The Prelate.  Call me Cyclops, if its
easier.  This is Stephanie, the Hunter, and this
is..."
     "Lady Lustre." Scott turned to the blond
woman, who looked at him like a diamond cutter
evaluating a completed stone. "You helped me.  I
remember you... helping me.  You shut it out?"
     "I blocked the geas that is haunting you,
Scott Summers.  Do you feel it still?"
     "I do... can you stop it... can you send
me home?"
     "I can do neither.  The geas is too
strong, and only the summoner can return an
otherworld spirit to its realm."
     He must have looked as confused as he
felt.  The woman Cyclops had called Stephanie
stepped forward.
     "You were brought here to aid us in our
struggle against the Pale Man.  The Mage
summoned you, and he can return you, if you aid
us."
     "This isn't a dream... is it."
     Cyclops put a hand on his shoulder.
     "Its no dream."
     "But... I`m just a pilot.  What can I do? 
No... it doesn't matter. " Scott took a deep
breath.  His Air-Force training took over. 
     *Focus on the mission.*, his instructors
had said.
     He looked at the Hunter.
     "If your Mage can send me home, then I'll
help you."
     He felt Cyclops squeeze his shoulder once,
then remove his hand.    
     "Let's get moving.  I'll explain all this
to you as we go."
              *     *   *     
     It should have been impossible, but
everything the man said rang of  truth.  Leading
a mutant strike team in a world that hated and
feared them, Cyclops had developed a sense for
the truth.  This man... this  Scott', was
telling him the truth, and it was staggering.
     Cyclops had explained the Geshem situation
as best he could.  The man had listened silently
as they travelled at a quick walk through the
tunnels.  Turning here and there, following
signs only Lustre could identify.
     Somewhere along the way, he had finished
his tale and drawn the man into talking about
his own world.  The similarities were as
shocking as the differences.
      "...my wife, Lee..."
     "Lee Forrester?"
     "Yes..  She... how..?"
     "I knew her in my world.  She was someone
special to me."
     "But you didn't marry her?"
     And what could Cyclops say?  That he had
met this man's wife when he was recovering from
the loss of a woman who had turned out to be
possessed by a galactic world devouring force,
but later found her again, only it was her clone
who...  
     "No.  It didn't work out."
                           *     *     *     
     "What about Alex?"
     "My brother died in the plane crash that
killed my parents."
     "Yet you became a pilot?"
     "It seemed... right.  My father always
seemed so.. alive when he was flying.  What
about in your... world?"
     "Alex and our father survived.  We've all
been through a lot over the years.  We're as
close as we can be, I suppose."
     "You're very lucky."
     "I know."
             *     *     *     
     "My leg?  I don't really notice it
anymore.  Six days of escape and evasion in Iraq
during Desert Storm.  I fractured it when I
ejected and it never set properly."
             *     *     *     
     "... the twins, Christopher and Nate are a
handful.  I swear, sometimes it seems they know
what the other is thinking before either says a
word...Sarah helps out when she can, but tenth
grade seems to take up most of her time.  Do you
and... Jean have any kids?"
     "I have a son... Nathan Christopher," they
both chuckled at that.  The Hunter gave them a
sidelong look, but they moved on, " and... I
have a son."
     "How old is he."
     "Sometimes, I wonder about that myself."
     "Pardon?"
     "Sorry.  Its complicated."
             *     *     *     
     He was deep in conversation with his
 other' when he heard it again.  A part at him
regretted the end of the talk.  They had found
much in common between them, and their
differences seemed to form a... bond.  The call
wasn't as forceful as before, but no less
demanding for it.  The tunnel they were
following split up ahead, and without pause, he
took the downward path.  Behind him, he heard
their voices, calling him, talking to each
other, but they were irrelevant.
     Scott Summers had seen and experienced
many things he considered impossible since
coming to Geshem.  Somehow, the siren song in
his mind that had so driven him to distraction
now seemed the least disturbing, at least, as
long as he followed it.
             *     *     *      
     "I won't leave him wandering without light
or help down here, Lustre."
     "Then you are a fool, outworlder.  My
beloved risks his life even now, and we follow
this man in the grip of a glamour that could
originate with the Pale Man himself for all
hades knows."
     "I do not think so, witch"
     "What?  How would you know such, Hunter. 
You have no Sight, no sense of the Flows."
     "Who says so?"
     "What are you saying?"
     "That maybe the Mage is a better teacher
than you think, witch.  What say you, Cyclops. 
Do we follow him yet?"
     "My gut says yes."
     "Your gut will say little when its on a
Soulsworn's blade, fool.  Hades burn both of
you, if you be wrong about this..."
     "Spare us your threats witch, and get your
wisplight out in front.  Cyclops, you have the
rear.  Move, both of you, he's getting too far
ahead."
             *     *     *     
     "Well, what say you, m'friend?"
     " I say, whatevers coming out of those
doors cannot be a good thing."
     "I do believe yer right.  De way de
red-eyes be watchin' it, and wit de hummin an
all..."
     "Not to mention the fact the windows are
glowing brighter than Apocalypse's corpse pits."
     "I know those pits not, but it cannot be a
good thing.  Question is, what we gonna do about
it?"
     "Depends.  Are those what I think they are
on the rampart?"
     "If ye be thinkin' dey cannons, den ya be
right, friend Prelate."
     "Then... friend Gambler, here's what we're
gonna do..."
                      
END CHAPTER 25