Chapter 115: Matthew's Time-Stop Play
The suburban villa.
A black Mercedes pulled up slowly alongside the road. Matthew stepped out in his suit and stood quietly, taking stock of the surroundings.
As expected. Nikki's ability had lost control again, and this time the radius was twice the size of the previous incident. If he hadn't arranged for her to be settled out here in advance, the disruption alone would have been enough to generate consequences that were difficult to calculate.
He glanced sideways toward the security booth.
Cold white light filled the booth's interior. Two armed guards were inside. One had his head tilted at an angle, sleeping soundly. The other was on his phone, scrolling without purpose.
Congratulations on getting caught slacking on company time. Your annual bonuses for this year and next have been cancelled.
Matthew photographed both of them in the act and forwarded the image to Eleanor.
"Pass it along. Those two. No bonuses for this year or next."
[Eleanor: understood.]
Her reply came back without delay.
He put the phone away without another look at the security booth and walked straight toward the villa.
He put one fist through the front door lock and pushed it open.
The interior was warm. The décor had been assembled with care, and the whole space carried a settled quality. On the decorative feature wall, among everything else, was a drawing done in crayon by Nikki.
The draftsmanship was young and unsteady. He could still read it.
A forest. A path through the trees. Ada on one side, Matthew on the other, both of them holding the hands of the figure in the middle. Three faces, three smiles.
In the bottom right corner of the picture, Nikki had written a single word in uneven letters:
Family.
Matthew stood in front of it for a moment, long enough that a quiet smile had settled on his face before he realized it. He stayed another few seconds, then continued inside.
The bedroom door creaked softly as it opened.
Ada was on the bed.
She was wearing red lace pajamas. Her sleeping posture could not be described as refined. She was lying on her side, the blanket pinned under her rather than over her, one leg extended across the mattress. A faint, unaccountable smile was on her face. A few strands of hair had fallen across the side of her face.
Matthew looked at the scene in front of him.
Time-stop play, he thought.
He studied her for a moment with the expression of someone conducting careful research. Then, with the energy of a person rearranging a very expensive doll, he began adjusting her position. The scientific curiosity extended to an impromptu costume change, the results of which he documented carefully for posterity.
[Ada's private photo collection: +1]
When he'd finished, he returned her to the bed in her original state, dressed her properly, tucked the blanket over her, and stepped out.
He had barely pulled the door closed when he found Logan standing directly in front of him.
Logan was looking at him with an expression that was difficult to categorize.
Logan said nothing.
Matthew said nothing.
"When did you get here?"
"A little while ago."
"Ah." Matthew nodded without visible reaction, then asked a question. "Logan, how is your hearing?"
"Very good," Logan said honestly.
"Is that right." Matthew absorbed this and looked up at nothing in particular for a moment. Then: "How was the whiskey I sent you?"
Logan raised an eyebrow.
It was, in fact, the best whiskey he had ever had. It was also true that the bottle being what it was had gotten him held for twenty-four hours, and that if Matthew hadn't personally called the NYPD commissioner, the bottle would probably have been confiscated as well.
By his count, he now owed Matthew three favors.
Logan pulled a cigar from inside his jacket, lit it, and exhaled once. "Actually, I just arrived. And I didn't hear anything."
"As it happens, I also just arrived."
"Shall we."
"Let's."
They walked side by side toward the other bedroom with the bearing of two men who had nothing on their consciences.
Matthew asked conversationally: "You're here for Nikki again?"
"For us, more accurately. I'm not the only one who came." Logan stopped at the window and looked out through the glass at the street.
Matthew followed his gaze and found Professor X parked under a streetlamp outside, his shaved head catching the light.
Matthew recognized Charles in the same moment he saw him. A brief surprise crossed his eyes and was immediately put away.
Logan explained. "I'm just the muscle this time around. He's the one who matters. You've seen it yourself. Nikki's ability is too unstable and too strong. This incident is considerably larger in scope than the last one. Without systematic training, it'll be a long time before she has any real control."
"So."
Matthew got there first. "So we still respect her personal choice."
He reached into his jacket and produced an injection vial. Clear liquid inside. He held it up for Logan to see.
"Umbrella has identified the specific gene segment that gives Nikki her ability. We already developed an injection that would suppress it permanently, a week ago. I'm not going to use it."
"This ability is something she was born with. It isn't a defect to be removed. Used correctly, it will take her somewhere extraordinary. So my position stays the same: if she chooses to go with you, I won't stand in the way. But she doesn't get taken."
Logan looked at the vial for a moment. He didn't say anything. They kept walking.
What Logan didn't know: the vial was glucose.
Matthew was, in fact, looking for Jimmy, the boy whose ability neutralized other mutants' powers. The world was large, and a name alone wasn't much to work with. He hadn't found him yet.
They located Nikki in the food storage room shortly after. She was standing unconscious near the shelves, barefoot, in her pajamas.
"How have you been handling it when this happens?" Logan stood in the doorway, looking at her.
"Small dose of sedative."
"Anything better?"
Matthew looked at him.
Logan nodded. "Sedative works, but she's too young. Frequent injections will cause lasting damage."
"The man outside is Charles. The second-strongest psychic I've encountered. He should be able to reach her directly and calm whatever's running out of control."
Logan stubbed out the cigar against the doorframe, waited for the smoke to clear, and stepped forward to lift Nikki.
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