Betrayal - REVIEW THIS STORY

Written by Valerie Jones
Last updated: 01/02/2007 02:01:11 AM

Chapter 24

Remy looked around the lab, momentarily out of things to do. The patch in the wall glared at him, but Remy had gotten used to its presence. At his computer terminal, Henry looked up.

"Done?"

"Oui. Won' have results f' 'bout twenty minutes, t'ough. What's next?" Remy and Bishop's punishment (though that wasn't the word the Professor had used) had been to repair the damage to the lab and to help Henry make up the work that had been lost. They were rarely there at the same time, more because the lab simply wasn't big enough for three people than because of anything he and Bishop might start. Still, it took up a lot of Remy's time. And he was learning more about molecular biology and genetics than he had ever wanted to.

It was the only way Remy knew how to apologize, so he kept his mouth shut and tried to learn. Henry didn't like having to explain what was, to him, completely elementary, so Remy did his best to follow the directions he was given and get things right the first time. He was doing better now that he had picked up some of the terminology.

Henry considered Remy over the rim of his glasses. "I'd like to do that experiment using a twelve percent solution as well." He nodded to the equipment in front of Remy, then went back to his own work. Remy kept his sigh to himself. That was all of the instruction he was going to get. Well, he'd set up the previous experiment, if only he could remember what Henry had done to get the right solution. . . . He racked his brain while he worked on the part of the set up that he did know.

At least Henry seemed willing to forgive them. He had been mad-- the tirade Remy and Bishop had gotten that first day had been a shock coming from the normally good-natured Beast. But once the lab was repaired and he was back to his research, Henry calmed down. His silence now was just a result of his preoccupation with his work. And the other X-men had dropped the subject at the professor's direct request. Remy still wasn't sure why the professor had done that. He just didn't seem concerned that they no longer had the Witness around, and Remy was too afraid to ask him why. But maybe, having been inside Remy's mind, he knew that Remy didn't know anything about the deaths of the X-men. He could hope that, anyway, because he couldn't think of any other possible explanation.

By the time Remy had the second experiment started, Cerebro had beeped, signalling that the analysis of the first was complete. He called up the display screen and started reading the results. When Henry came over to see, Remy surrendered his seat to him, but continued to watch over his shoulder.

"Do these results tell you anything, Gambit?"

Remy stared at the screen. "Only dat de virus grew de way y' said it would." Was it supposed to mean something else? All he had seen was the growth pattern that Henry had said would be there.

"Hmmm." Then Henry launched into a discussion of viruses, their life cycles, and what this particular bit of information exposed about the life of the Legacy virus. Remy wasn't certain he followed, but he tried to keep track of why Henry thought this particular experiment was important. He had found that if he could figure that out, he could backtrack to some kind of understanding of how Henry had come up with the idea for the experiment in the first place. It was a backwards kind of logic, but it helped to keep him from looking like a complete fool.

Cerebro beeped again, and Henry pulled up the second set of data. He glanced over his shoulder at Remy.

"Very interesting, wouldn't you say?"

Remy looked at the numbers. The growth pattern was almost the same as the first experiment. He was about to say so, when another thought struck him. Henry had said that the solution was of a substance that traditionally interfered in the function of viruses of this general type. The second solution was a *lot* stronger than the first, so it would seem like the second batch of the virus shouldn't have done as well as the first, since it was literally swimming in poison.

"Guess y' can' poison de t'ing. Least, not wit dis stuff."

Henry swiveled his seat around to face Remy, his expression thoughtful. Remy wondered what he'd done this time. But then Henry took off his glasses and began cleaning them.

"This is a rather personal question, but. . . have you ever considered going to college?" he asked as he held up the spectacles and peered at Remy in turn through each lens.

Remy blinked in confusion. "'Scuse me?"

"College. You know, an institution of higher learning?" At Remy's blank look he added, "Haven't you ever wanted to do something. . . . *else*. . . with your life? Like a career of some sort?"

"A career?" Remy felt like a broken record. "Like what?"

"Well, electrical engineering springs to mind. You already know a great deal about some kinds of circuitry-- and computers."

Remy laughed. "Y' wan' me t' be an *engineer*?" He couldn't help his incredulity.

Henry didn't share the humor. "Actually, I was just curious as to whether *you* had ever wanted to be something like that."

Remy's laughter died at the strange sadness in Hank's expression. The question stung. What had he dreamed of becoming? A master thief? He was one, and had abandoned that life. An X-man? But he had stumbled into that with little grace. He had just wanted to make sure Storm wasn't involved with a bunch of suicidal loonies, and then had never gotten around to leaving. What then? A. . . . husband? A father? Those dreams had died long ago. Had he never looked beyond just getting by? Never. . . . really. . . . dreamed? But what did he have to dream with?

"I-- I never went t' school, Henry." Why did it hurt so much to admit that? He hadn't done all *that* badly for himself.

"Never?"

Remy shook his head.

"But you learned to read and write. Two languages, I might add."

Remy shrugged. "O' course. Can' do anyt'ing if y' can' read."

"And, as I noted earlier, you know a great deal about wiring-- alarm circuits, fiber optic layouts, even pyrotechniques. You're a skilled mechanic, and even a half decent cook--" He smiled briefly. "If one likes Cajun food."

Remy cocked his head. "Sure, I've picked up some t'ings over de years. Most of it not do me any good 'less I go back t' t'ievin'. Dat's not de same as college." Remy paused. He was no longer sure which side of the argument he was on. It was beginning to sound like he was trying to convince Henry that he *couldn't* do something like go to school. Arguing his own stupidity? But what was the other side of the argument? That he *could* be an engineer, or doctor or whatever? He wasn't sure he believed that one, either.

Henry stood. "Well, in my humble opinion, a formal education is simply 'picking up some things'-- on purpose." He grinned. "And now my stomach is telling me it's time for dinner. Shall we?" He indicated the door with a flourished wave.

Remy gave him one last, confused, look before proceeding to the door as Henry had suggested. Dinner, at least, was simple and didn't require any soul-searching. He tucked Henry's comments away in his mind, certain that he would eventually have to get them out again for another look. But hopefully that day would be a little while from now. He already had enough unanswered questions about himself and his life to deal with.