occasional spark up the stone chimney. The faint smell of wood smoke always filled the dark study and the Professor liked it that way. He knew the sun was setting beyond the heavy drapes of his office. He knew the evening would be a warm one, perfect for floating in his chair out onto the back lawn to watch the stars come out.
But that kind of resting and enjoying of life was not something he felt he could take the time for at the moment. The problems of his team, and mutants in the world in general, were taking more and more of his time and energy. And he never seemed to have enough of either to begin to match the problems.
And now Cain was on a rampage again. He shook his head and stared into the fire. Why now? he wondered.
The Professor wished he knew, but Cain was not one to do much talking, and especially not to him. Cain had hated him since they were teenagers, since he thought his father paid more attention to Charles than him. And he might have been right, to a degree. But Cain had been a hard child, wild and mean, made that way by beatings at the hands of his father.
And when an accidental fire killed his father, Cain managed to blame it on Charles and the hatred grew into something they would never clear up. But Cain was still his brother and Charles was never going to feel totally free of the responsibility.
The Professor checked his watch. Three hours had passed since Cain had suddenly changed directions and he showed no signs of stopping. What was driving him? Something was, of that there was no doubt. And the only hope they had of stopping his rampage was to find the cause.
There was a knock at the door and Bishop, one of the more recent additions to the X-Men, stuck his head into the dark office, looking slightly worried.
“Yes, Bishop,” the Professor said. He could have probed the big man’s mind easily, but he had learned a long time ago to honor the boundaries of other’s thoughts. They were personal things and unless it was an emergency, he never so probed without permission.
‘ ‘There is a person on the phone by the name of Gary Service who says he must speak to you urgently regarding the Juggernaut.”
The Professor was about to tell Bishop to take the man’s name and number, but at the mention of the Juggernaut he nodded.
“Thank you,” the Professor said, floating in his hoverchair toward his desk and the phone. “I’ll speak to him.”
More than likely it was just one of Cain’s poor victims who had a house, or some other property, destroyed, looking for some kind of compensation. A few of Cain’s victims had tried to sue the Professor for the Juggernaut’s damages, but it had never held up. He was not responsible for Cain’s actions, even though at times he felt he was. “Charles Xavier,” the Professor said.
“Yes, Dr. Xavier,” the agitated voice on the other end of the line said. “My name is Gary Service. And I’m looking for a little help, or information.”
“I’m not sure about my ability to help, Mr. Service,” the Professor said calmly. “But I can certainly listen to your question.”
“Thank you, sir,” Service said.
The Professor heard him take a deep breath, most likely to calm his nerves.
“I understand,” Service said, “that you are the stepbrother of Cain Marko, also known as the Juggernaut. Is that right?”
“That is correct,” the Professor said, waiting for Service to get to his question.
“And the Juggernaut’s power comes from a ruby,” Service said. “Is that correct?”
“In a manner of speaking,” the Professor said. That question had him puzzled. “The ruby is like a pipe that directs the power to the Juggernaut from another plane.”
“Okay...” Service said, letting the word trail off, clearly not understanding. Then he took another deep, loud breath, then rushed into his question. “Is there any way of reversing the effects the gem has on the Juggernaut?’ ’
Service’s question actually shocked the
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