============================
Generation-X #10... To Boldly Go cont.
by Andy & Lee
Editor: Marysia
============================

DISCLAIMER:  This is a project of the X-Writers.  We have 
neither asked nor been given permission by Marvel Comics to do 
this.  They get to get all their rights and we get to keep ours, but 
they have the copyright, now, don't they?  Don't bother sueing 
us.  We can barely afford college, like we'd have something 
extra? Ha.

WARNING:  This is a story.  This is only a story.  Had it been a 
recounting of issues from real life, spandex would be in style.

NOTE:  This story may contain cuss words, questionable morals, 
killing, death, blatant acts of kindness, brief scenes of nudity, 
kissing, friendship, angst, original ideas, risky business, and all 
sorts of thought provoking questions regarding the cosmic 
powers and our unique advantages in becoming higher than our 
base animalistic selves.  You may be inspired to write your own 
works of art and break free of the chains of Society to let your 
mind go free.  This story may even win a Noble Peace Prize, 
bringing warring factions of estranged brothers and sisters to a 
long needed era of peace.

--------------------------------------------------------------------
The Frost Island  <Late Afternoon>

        Paige wiped the sweat from her eyes and brushed her bangs 
out of the way.  Her hair sat heavily on her shoulders, and she 
longed to simply cut it off.  It hung in long, dirty tangles, brown 
now, instead of blond, with pine needles and rocks and leaves 
forming a bird's nest.  Her kingdom for a brush, indeed.
 
       Her body was tense and taut, stretched to it's fullest as she 
looked across the meadow.  A hand was raised to her eyes, 
shading her from the harsh glare of the sun, and the other hand 
was grasping a tree. One tennis shoed foot was balancing 
precariously on the boulder she stood on, while the other 
extended behind her, trying to maintain that balance.
  
      She sighed and shook her head.  There was just no way 
across this stream without actually getting into it, which she 
didn't want to do.  It was a strange colour, first of all, more than 
slightly green, and there were large egg sacks lining the banks.  
They belonged to the same insects they guarded against at night, 
and, needless to say, she was utterly repulsed by them.
   
     "Jono, Ah don't think we're goin' ta get across here," she said, 
turning to her companion.  She brushed a stringy lock of hair 
from her eyes once more and turned to face him.
  
      Jono sat on another boulder, about five feet further upstream.  

He was staring at it, his eyes vacant and unblinking.  His clothes 
were filthy, his leather jacket scratched and scraped beyond 
repair.  His black pants were ripped beyond his belief, his boots 
scuffed, the marks long and white where the material under the 
leather showed through.

        He jumped slightly as she spoke, clearly startled.  His 
glance was vacant for a split second, but then the mask of 
indifference covered them again.  He shrugged, the leather jacket 
lifting and settling heavily on his shoulder.
 
       <<Then we'll just 'ave t' wade through it, luv.>> He looked 
meaningfully at the stream, and then back to her.  His psionic 
words were unnaturally loud, even to him.  Much as he tried to 
hide his discomfort, the strains of the last two days were 
beginning to catch up to him and bowl him over.

        Paige looked to the stream as well, and just barely 
concealed a shiver.  Her eyes narrowed as she examined it once 
more, but still it remained the same.  Through the corner of her 
eyes, she glanced back at Jono, trying to figure out his angle on 
their ordeal.
 
       But Jono was simply sitting there.  His gaze returned to the 
stream, and she knew that he would be no help.  Jono was in the 
grip of a harsh, debilitating depression.  She would have brought 
his attention to it a long time ago, but she knew, deep down 
inside, in the place which held the mirror which she dreaded to 
look into, that it was mostly her fault.

        He stood up suddenly, and started upstream for a couple of 
yards.  He peered further ahead, and then, quite abruptly, turned 
the other way.  He walked downstream and, as he came near her, 
he skirted her boulder by a good four feet.  'No use givin' 'er the 
wrong idea,' he thought. 'Wouldn't want ter invade 'er 'space',' he 
thought.  So, he went around her and came back to the stream.  
A couple yards down this way showed him the exact same thing -
- that the stream above and the stream below were the same as 
the stream blocking their way.

        Of course, they could have travelled up further and crossed 
there, but that would have meant a much longer delay.  As it 
was, they were already a good day behind their class mates, and 
time was of the essence at this point.  Who knew what was going 
on, except that the message had had a sense of the desperate to 
it, and that they knew that they had to catch up.
 
       'This's a bit'v a parody uv a field trip,' he thought.  'Or 
per'aps a sitcom.'  Funny how things seem to work out in the 
worst way possible when the time was wrong.  Then again, if he 
was doomed to a life of bad karma, he might as well accept it.

        <<Luv, this's the only place. Let's go.>>  His hand crept up 
to his face and self-consciously re-adjusted his bandages.  They 
were filthy as well, and started to bother him.  He noticed what 
he was doing suddenly, and nonchalantly lowered his hand.

        He did so a bit too quickly, and Paige noticed.  She ignored 
his discomfort, though, because she was dealing with her own.  
A regretful nod told her opinion of the whole ordeal and, without 
further ado, she sat down and began to take off her shoes and 
socks.

        Jono nodded and followed her example.  His boots came off 
with a bit of effort, and were quickly followed by his socks.  His 
jeans were hard to roll up, but he succeeded in getting them just 
above his knees.  He looked around and picked the best possible 
spot.  

        She looked at him and mentally told herself to straighten 
up.  No way was he going to show her up.  She took firm hold of 
her stuff and went to the bank of the stream.  Unconsciously, she 
stopped at the bank and just stood there.
 
       He looked at her, standing next to his side, filthy and 
furious, her face still that of an angel on earth.  He watched as 
she steeled herself, forcing herself to take a step forward and go 
into that rancid stream.  If he had had a face, and a better life, 
and the wherewithal to understand that sometimes people said 
things they didn't mean when they were under trauma, he would 
have smiled at her, a kind smile, and he would have reached out 
to touch her arm and give her a word or two of encouragement.  
But, things being what they were, he didn't, and, with a mental 
shake, took the first step.
 
       The water was just as horrid as he knew it would be.  It had 
a thin layer of scum on it that even its current couldn't wash 
away.  Of course, it was a slow current, and the stream itself was 
almost stagnant.  He stopped himself from freezing right there 
and forced himself to take the five other large steps to the other 
bank.  One, he counted, lifting his foot from the sucking grasp of 
the bed.  Two, and he balanced before going on.  Three, and he 
looked back to be sure that Paige was coming.

        She wasn't.  She stood there hesitantly and shook her head.  
He reached out a hand and motioned for her to come.  A deep 
breath, a silent prayer, and she plunged into the stream after him.  
Four, and he was almost there.

        Paige grimaced as the first splash of water hit her.  She 
shuddered and felt the bile rise up in her mouth.  Yeah, well, this 
thing here just made the top ten list of things to never do while 
sober with an astounding jump to number four.  Another thought 
crossed her mind, the thought of the number one thing to never 
do while sober, and she blushed.

        <<Five,>>  he muttered out loud.  With a sudden 
determination, he vaulted himself over to the bank.  An unsteady 
landing made him reach out quickly and grab onto tree trunk.

        She shook her head jealously.  Slowly, she made her way to 
the other side of the rive and succeeded in crawling up it.  With 
grim determination, she didn't look down, half in fear of what 
she'd find and half in utter frustration.

        <<Yer okay, luv?>>. Jono projected into her mind.  He 
sighed at her, not knowing what to or not to do.  She looked at 
him, and quickly put on a smile, motioning that she was okay.  

        "Ah'm just not happy that this is all ah've got ta wear. Ah 
can't even husk 'cause we ain't supposed ta use our powers."  She 
grinned wryly, laughing at herself for the state she was in.

        Jono nodded and turned around.  <<Well, we 'ave t' keep 
goin'.>> 

	"So," she managed as she crunched yet another large 
bundleof twigs beneath her hiking shoes. "Why're yah so quiet?" 
She grunted, softly now, as she ducked to avoid being crushed in 
the shoulder by a large tree branch. She pulled the branch out of 
the path with her right hand as she pushed by it, letting it snap 
back into place after she passed.

	Jonothon remained silent, his lips closed tight as he
pondered the question. The branch which Paige moved slapped
back against his right shoulder, a sharp *thwap* sounding out.
Jonothon, the mean lean angst machine, took this with but a 
wince.  << Cos I've nothin' t' say, >> he said, thereby 
contradicting himself. 

	"Oh," she said softly, producing a small silver compass 
from her right jacket pocket. "We goin' the right way?" For all 
her education and upbringing, she oftimes lacked a small bit of 
common sense.

	<< Where's the arrow pointed, luv? >> 

	"Ta the big E ... yeah, yeah, ah know. We're tryin' ta go
east, go to the 'e'. Still, it's really quiet an' we've been walkin' 
for 
a long time now."

	Jonothon lifted one arm up as he slid his backpack into a
position where he could better reach the contents, scanned what
was inside the black canvas sack.  Reaching a slow, deliberate
arm inside the pack, he pulled out a large pamphlet which had 
been folded into a small rectangle. Letting his backpack return to 
its normal (although not preferred) position on Jonothon's back, 
he shook his right arm vigorously, the map unfolding itself. 

	He spread it out before him as he walked along the small
path, his boots crushing dead insects and leaves beneath their 
heavy soles. With the map blocking his view, Jonothon failed to 
notice a butterfly float happily down to a rest a few feet before 
him on the path. Unable to see the small insect to stop in time, 
our faceless friend brought one heavy black boot downward, 
crushing the lovely creature beneath the sole of his shoe. 
Theoretically, the feeble dying flaps of this butterflies wings 
could create a typhoon off the coast of Japan, but the chaos 
theory is highly overrated.  The butterfly just died, nothing 
changing except that Jono now had a bit of gunk on the bottom 
of his shoe.

	Jonothon slowed to a stop and moved to lean against the
trunk of a large tree, its roots gnarled and twisted along the 
forest floor.  Paige took this opportunity for a quick break, 
slinging out her water bottle and quickly pulling a few mouthfuls 
from the large neck.  She screwed the top back onto the plastic 
container as Jonothon began to speak.

	<< I think ... we're 'eaded in the right direction.  The 
camp should be just around this bend, 'ere.  >>

	His voice had, for the most part, an encouraging air to it -
- not for the sake of Paige, who apparently was used to some-
what strenuous activities, but for his own.  Growing up in 
London, down town, he didn't need to climb mountains or cross 
rivers.  This was an entirely new, and mostly unpleasant, 
experience for him.  It didn't help that Paige's presence was 
driving him up a proverbial wall.

	"Ah reckon we better continue on, then?"

	(*sigh*) << Yeah. C'mon. >>

	Ducking beneath a fallen tree, Paige led the way along 
the narrow "trail".  Actually, it wasn't quite a trail, but more a 
path they decided to weave and which they determined was the 
quickest and safest line to their destination.  Ah, yes, their 
destination -- the one thought that pounded through Paige's mind 
and what was left of Jonothon's head.

	(As soon as ah get back ta the campsite, I'm takin' a few
steps away from Mr. Angst here and -- )

	(I'm goin' t' slip on me 'eadphones, and lush away in some
real music instead uv havin' t' be so close t' her.)


The Frost Island  <Evening>

        Meanwhile ...

        The sky had turned from a pale blue to a darkish purple in 
the last two hours, and a strong wind was beginning to blow out 
of the east.  The two hikers rounded the bend of the animal trail 
and started up the rocky hill before them.  Far off to the south-
east, a shimmering line of blue could be seen, for all the good it 
did them.

        "We're still heading north by north-west.  I think we'll get 
there by noon tomorrow if we keep up this pace."  Everett wiped 
his brow and squinted as he tried to see to the top of the hill.  He 
thought he caught a glimpse of trees up there, and it would 
definitely be nice to sit down for a bit.
 
       "Good,"  Monet replied, doggedly putting one foot in front 
of the other.  It would be so much easier to fly, but, no, that 
wasn't a part of the rules.  Although, she still couldn't figure out 
why she had to have survival training.  She knew she could best 
any situation given to her, and it wasn't just confidence, either.  
"Maybe we should break for lunch soon.  I believe there is a 
small lake on the other side of this hill."

	"Really?"  Ev grinned.  "That'd be great.  I have this 
turkey sandwich burning a hole in my pack."

	"Hmm?  Oh, yes, right.  Well, we have to keep up our 
energy and strength if we want to be there by tonight."

	Ev continued walking a few more steps before realisation 
sunk in.  "Tonight?"  He looked at his partner and shook his head 
in disbelief.  "I don't think so.  We still have that ridge to cross, 

and that's going to take up all of tonight at least.  That's not 
counting the other twenty miles after that."  Unlike what others 
would have done at that point, Ev smiled.

	Monet looked over at Everett and shook her head.  There 
was no scorn in her voice when she said, "No, the ridge is less 
than an hour's walk, though it seems otherwise, and we'll make 
good time past that. It's all downhill."

	"How do you know that?"  Ev asked.

	"When we crested the last ridge, of course."

	"But it's almost dark."

	"There will be a full moon tonight.  The ridge itself will 
be crossed while there is still daylight, and after that, it will 
still 
be bright due to the lack of tree coverage and reflection off the 
water's surfaces."

        Ev nodded, willing to trust Monet's judgement.  She wasn't 
very often wrong.  "Oh.  Okay.  That's good then.  Think we'll 
get there first?"

	"Indeed."

	"Good."

	They continued on in silence.

	As they climbed the next ridge, Everett smiled.  They 
were going to make it tonight.


The Frost Island  <Night>

	"Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight."  A pause.  
"I wish I may ... I ... wish I ... might?"  A second pause, this one 
much longer.  "Hey, guy, what's the next line?"

	Jubilee ran back to the campfire, her signature trenchcoat 
whipping behind her.  "C'mon, what's the next line?  I just saw a 
star;  I gotta go wish on it."

	"You ain't never seen a star before, Lee?"  Angelo asked.  
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, looking wistfully 
at the rest of the stew.  He gave Jubilee a pitiful look, and she 
waved her hand at him.  Grateful, he scooped the remainder of 
the stew into his own plate.

	"Yeah, I have, like, duh and a half.  But this is different,"  
she continued.

	"What about with those X-Men,"  Angelo asked, a cross 
between a sneer and laughter in his voice.  "Ain't you ever seen 
them while you were out with the X-Men?"

	"Sure.  But I didn't pay attention.  My mind was always 
on the 'mission',"  Jubilee said with exaggerated self-importance.

	"Right, then, chica.  Well, the next line's ... um ... twinkle 
twinkle little star.  Yeah ... that's right."

	It was Jubilee's turn, now, to sneer and laugh.  "I *know* 
it's not that!  See!  You have less clue than I do."  She smiled, 
though, after that, to let him know she was only joking.

	Angelo shrugged.  "Whatever, Jubes.  Why don't you just 
go make up some words and just use those?  Like they say, it's 
the thought that counts."

	She almost appeared ready to scoff at that as well, but 
she didn't.  She did, however, leave the area rather quickly, and 
only stopped when she reached the clearing she had just left 
behind.  Muttered words escaped her as she quickly recited what 
she had just learned.


The Frost Island  <Late Night>

	Everett wasn't actually surprised as they arrived at the 
campsite sometime after midnight.  As predicted, they made 
great time on the down slope, and though their light was 
significantly cut off once they entered the small woods, both he 
and Monet were skilled enough to find their way back without 
too much difficulty.

	The campsite was just as they left it, more or less.  The 
tents were all in order, there was ample wood by the fire, and the 
area was cleared out.  Everett thought longingly of his sleeping 
bag.

	A sudden hand on his shoulder, an obvious 'stop' signal, 
surprised him;  but stop he did, and now that the test was over, 
he felt free to use his powers to his advantage.  His aura, not 
visible to most but a bright rainbow field to him, extended and 
came into contact with his partner, Monet.  Instantly, he felt a 
part of her strength, her intelligence and her ability to fly infuse 
him.

	"What is it?"  he asked.

	Monet's eyes slowly, ever so slowly, began to unfocus, 
and to his extreme frustration, he began to realise that she was 
slipping into that catatonic state from which no one could 
awaken her.

	"Monet?!"  he said, much louder this time and not caring 
about its consequences.  He had to get to her, to find out what 
she was trying to tell him, before he lost her.

	The struggle in Monet's eyes gave him hope, and, 
subconsciously, he began to use the bond his aura and her power 
provided him with, using it to reach her in a way he couldn't by 
mere thoughts or words.

	"Jack."  A strangled whisper from Monet caught his 
attention.  "Jack ... is hurt.  MAY die if ... we don't ... get him 
to a hospital."

	"Easier said than done,"  he muttered.

        She continued without acknowledging him.  Maybe she 
couldn't.  "Quick ... Help me ... take him to the base.  I'm going 
to be no help."  A deep regret coloured her words, and Everett 
experienced a sinking, dread-filled feeling.

	"What?!"

	But, that was all she could say, and in the next moment, 
she sank totally into her characteristic catatonic state.

	"Oh, great," Everett whispered, but he didn't take the 
time to stand around and angst about what to do next.  He knew 
very well what he had to do now.

	He closed his eyes, not really needing to, but the lack of 
visual stimulation helped his concentration -- and that was what 
he needed right now.  His aura expanded rapidly as he tried to 
search for his team mates ... and, on the off chance, Jack and the 
base as well.  Unfortunately, his friends were out of reach -- so 
he assumed the base was as well -- and Jack was not a mutant.

	Great.  Just his luck.  Well, no, he half expected this 
anyway.  Okay, next.

	Everett opened his eyes and tried to move Monet.  Just as 
he expected, she didn't want to budge.  He had already with-
drawn his aura from her to check for the others and now, looking 
at her, he wasn't sure he wanted her strength enough to risk 
being caught just like she was right now.

	So, he moved to the nearest tent, grabbed a blanket, and 
draped it over Monet's shoulders, not knowing if she would 
need, or appreciate, it but doing so anyway.  Just before he 
thought it couldn't get any worse, the moonlight faded, leaving 
him in almost pitch darkness.

	But, he was almost expecting it and flipped on the 
flashlight he held in one hand.  With that, he quickly swept the 
campsite, looking for Jack.  He wasn't at the camp fire, so 
Everett checked around and in each tent.  Not there either.  With 
a feeling of desperation, he expanded his search into an outward 
spiral, circling the campsite with a faster and faster pace.

	It was with a sinking heart that he finally found Jack's 
inert body.  Everett breathed a sigh of relief, then breathed a few 
more times.  Though obviously not well, Jack showed no signs of 
immediate concern.  If they could just get him to the base on 
time, he'd be all right.

	Rushing back to the camp, he quickly made a travois out 
of a tent's fabric stretched over two of its poles.  Monet was still 
where he'd left her, so he wasn't concerned.  As he very well 
knew, she would not move, for *any*thing, when she was in that 
condition.

	"C'mon, Everett, get a move on it,"  he told himself.  
Once Jack was safely on the travois and strapped down so he 
wouldn't fall off, he stuffed a back pack full of necessities.

	From out of no where, Monet appeared at his shoulder.  
"Quickly,"  she whispered.

	"I know."  Suddenly, he stopped.  "Why don't you just fly 
us?  Or, at least Jack, and I'll synch with you, we can be there 
in... "

	"No!"  she interrupted sharply.  Seeing the crestfallen 
look on his face, she hurriedly continued.  "I mean, I can feel the 
... I can feel it coming on again.  I can help you, but I don't know 
when I'll fall back in, or back out, of the ... fits."

	"What?"  he asked, panic wrapping its icy tendrils into his 
heart.

	Monet, for the first time since he'd met her, looked 
deeply saddened.  "I'm sorry.  That's why we can't fly.  It might 
happen while we're in the air and ... I just can't risk that."  On a 
happier note, she added,  "Besides, it will only take, at most, half 
a day of travel for us to reach the base."

	He nodded.  "Okay.  Well, then, you can take the travios 
until you fall into the ... fit again, and then I'll take over.  I'm 
going to have to leave you behind, but you'll be able to catch up 
when you fade back in, won't you?"

	"Of course.  That will be no problem.  In fact, it should 
save us a couple of hours at least.  Good plan."  Monet smiled at 
him.

	Everett, despite the situation, found himself smiling back.  
"All right, let me write a quick note,"  which he did,  "and let's 
go!"  which they did, their spirits high despite the hike facing 
them.

	Left behind, duct taped to Jack's tent, was a large piece 
of 8 1/2 by 11, college-ruled, spiral cut paper with a hasty, pen 
scribbled message on it.

	'Guys!  This is a serious emergency.  Jack had a heart 
attack sometime last night, that's the first day we started out, and 
Monet and I have taken him to the base.  Use those maps we 
trained with.  
	It's the site marked in purple.  Hurry!'


The Frost Island  <Dawn>

        Jonothon stood before the remains of the camp, the dawn's 
early light causing him to squint. He would be gaping, his jaw left 
slack, had he had a jaw to begin with. Paige, however, didn't 
share this unique problem with her darkly dressed companion, so 
her jaw simply dropped down, straight down.

	<<This is not good,>> stated Jono with his brilliant sense 
of the obvious.

	Until Jonothon and Paige had fully cleared the outer rim 
of the forest, their vision was obstructed by tree branches that 
hung heavy with leaves. To be honest, it took them moment or 
ten to realise that they had reached the campsite from where they 
had started their hike. It was quiet, too quiet, as the cliche 
(right-
fully) goes -- they were expecting the noise of the site to be 
heard from quite a distance away. The fire had been doused, the 
tents were empty and there was no-one around in any direction. 

	<< Where the 'ell did they go to? >>

        Paige caught herself in time, snapping her jaw shut.  
Wouldn't want any flies buggerin' round your mouth.  "Don't 
quite know. Ah -- they wouldn't have just walked off, would 
they?"  She turned to Jono for acknowledgement, "Right?"

        Jono said nothing to this, knowing Paige was smart enough 
to figure it out for herself.  He took a step forward, then another.  

Then a few more, slowly, his boots breaking twigs beneath their 
heavy soles. He knew what he was looking for -- some sort of 
boot print, a sign of the direction they went. 

	Paige, however, lingered over near the tents. Left empty 
and deserted, the few tents surrounding a fire-ring, the fresh 
ashes within it a sign of a recent campfire. She picked her way 
across the fire-ring, and peered inside a tent -- but, no, nothing. 
Of importance, at least.  What she found -- an empty Marsh-
mallow bag -- was of no use to, well, anyone. However, being 
nature-conscious, she interrupted her Sherlock Holmes search-
for-the-clues hunt to pick up the marshmallow container gingerly 
in her fingers and shove it into a pocket in her pack.

        A voice from all sides of her at once, and from nowhere at 
the same time, echoed into her head. <<Found somethin',>> it 
said in a somewhat monotonous tone. 

	Paige sighed softly, bending her body over at the waist as 
she slid out of the tent. If only he'd lower his voice a bit when he 
did that, she thought, it wouldn't be so damn annoying. 

        She stepped out of the relative shade of the tent into the 
light of the new day's early sun.  Quickening her pace to a light 
jog, she ran up next to Jonothon and placed on hand on his 
shoulder.  Feeling him wince slightly beneath her touch, she 
removed her hand awkwardly and placed it on her hip.  "What's 
that?"

	Jono made a noise that, if he was able to exhale, if he had 
lungs, would pass for a sigh.  <<Read it yourself,>>  he said with 
a dejected tone and handed the slip of paper to Paige.

	So she did.

	'Guys!  This is a serious emergency.  Jack had a heart 
attack sometime last night, that's the first day we started out, and 
Monet and I have taken him to the base.  Use those maps we 
trained with.  
	It's the site marked in purple.  Hurry!'

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

--
*Marysia* |"Just love me, fear me, do as I say and I
 Keeper of the  | will be your slave." Jareth, Labyrinth.
Labyrinth Flame |-----------------------------------------
and Holy Virgin |  x-writers at majordomo@minuteman com
  of Scotland.  | Info at http://minuteman.com/x-writers