And again Loki.
The study of Magneto's memory has given much food for thought. It is worth starting with the fact that, in fact, he was not a terrorist. That is, yes, in the past (and in the present time) he carried out military actions, and there were many premeditated murders on his account, but, firstly, most of his victims were directly related to Nazi camps, and secondly, there was no direct terror in his actions, on the contrary, he made a lot of efforts to cover up his tracks and conceal the very fact of the violence that had taken place. In fact, the action he had planned with turning all the participants of the UN summit into mutants was the first that could be called an act of terrorism, and even then, according to his plan, there should have been a minimum of deaths.
In other respects, Eric Lansher was a law-abiding respectable citizen, heading a private charitable foundation, engaged in aid to victims of military actions, with headquarters in San Francisco. In many ways, the foundation was fake, but it provided aid to those in need, only these needy were mutants, whom Magneto recruited in much the same way as Xavier, and much the same way as Xavier, the organization had only a few adult associates in its active composition, who only trained the youth. In addition, Lansher was also listed in several scientific and medical societies, being a certified doctor with a good track record, although he had long since retired from active practice. Such connections allowed him to conduct research on the nature of mutation and design his "doomsday machine" without any problems. It got to the point that he simply ordered some complex calculations directly from academies and institutes, where the most ordinary people forged him a weapon of victory over themselves, without suspecting anything.
As for the machine itself, the history of its creation goes back to the Cerebro project, developed jointly with Xavier. Even at the stage of cloudless cooperation, the two great mutants discovered that the magnetic fields generated by Eric's body were not capable of harming either delicate electronics or the human brain, and in general were not magnetic fields (from a classical point of view). It was rather a form of gravity, but for some reasons unknown to researchers, it affected only metals. Nevertheless, it had some properties of a magnetic field, in particular, friends discovered that when directed at the brain of a telepath, Lansher's ability can resonate with the brain's own electromagnetic field and somehow enhance telepathic abilities, in Xavier's case allowing him to reach people on the other side of the planet, while Charles's usual level was limited to a radius of ten kilometers. Having started studying this phenomenon, the mutants were unable to understand its nature, but they experimentally established the effects and safe limits of influence. Crazy... All on themselves, all personally. True enthusiastic scientists. How they didn't kick the bucket in the process - I don't understand, but they regularly pumped each other out and still moved forward.
Ultimately, the friends' persistence was rewarded, and they managed to reproduce the desired effect using purely technical principles. This is how the Cerebro complex was created. A true masterpiece of Earth engineering and, in fact, the first Earth device with neural interface functions. With its help, Charles could repeatedly enhance his abilities and not only read minds, but also find anyone anywhere on the planet, manually filtering out the one needed from billions of minds.
But then the guys had a falling out, but neither of them forgot their developments. Professor X obviously improved and refined Cerebro, but Magneto went into another field, which was greatly facilitated by his receipt of some information about the government project of the forties to create a super-soldier serum. The same one that Captain America was created with. The secret of the original serum was lost in this world in exactly the same way as in other variations of the Marvel Universe, so Eric could not get anything significant about it purely physically, but he became interested in the topic. But since he was quite far from organic chemistry and genetic engineering, he preferred to look for his solution in the field of physics and already tested technologies of magnetic influence on the body. And, it must be said, he achieved his goal.
His machine for turning ordinary people into mutants was an extremely interesting project. Let's start with the fact that it was "tailored" exclusively for Mr. Lansher with his talent for generating pseudo-magnetic fields. The main feature was that the machine forcibly reconfigured such fields into pure electromagnetic radiation, but also very specific, which, when exposed to the human body, provoked an avalanche-like mutation of cells. For Magneto himself, this was again a black box, according to the principle of "I know that if I give it such-and-such a signal, then such-and-such an effect will occur, but how this effect is realized inside, I do not know", but after studying the condition of Senator Kelly, I had a certain guess. And the longer I thought about it, the more I found confirmation of it in the knowledge of this reality that I possessed. Most likely, it was the notorious X-gene. The locals didn't know what it was, because the human genome hadn't been deciphered yet, and the mutant genome, with its wide range of abilities, even more so, so they used this term to denote a certain hypothetical root cause of natural mutation, assuming that the DNA molecule really does contain a set of nucleotides responsible for acquiring a particular ability. However, if we rely on the statistics of the mutant population increase, which I hinted at in my conversation with Magneto in the helicopter, these same X-genes should already be present in a very significant percentage of people, simply remaining in a recessive state for now. And here the principle of operation of Lansher's device becomes immediately clear. Radioactive radiation, even unknown, cannot just take and rebuild a formed organism, it's like trying to rebuild a house by pouring a stream of flame from a flamethrower on it. That is, it is possible to cause damage, but it is no longer possible to re-roof it. Another thing is if the "potential" is already embedded, Loki's knowledge of genetics not only allowed, but also had clear examples of such a restructuring. Starting from the banal mechanism of molting and changing fur depending on the season in a number of animals, ending with him himself, with the transition to the state of a jotun under the influence of extremely low temperatures and returning to the form of an ace under normal conditions. The problem was that people did not have such a mechanism. A recessive gene could become dominant, but only in the next generation, naturally, so to speak. However, the field generated by the Magneto machine artificially brought the desired section of the genome into the dominant in an already mature and formed organism. As a result, the restructuring took place, but here an analogy is appropriate, when a wall is broken through in a house with a battering ram, a window is put in place of the hole somehow, and the old one is nailed up with debris. That is, this is already possible, but the beauty and strength of the entire structure will leave much to be desired. So it is here. When exposed to radiation and in an effort to survive, the body activates everything it can in an attempt to adapt to the aggressive radiation, moreover,the radiation itself actively helps him in this, but after the process is stopped... we get a disabled person with an activated genome, but a completely destroyed cellular structure due to the instant restructuring, which itself will tend to "fall apart from one sidelong glance", and if we take into account that the processes of cell division in such a body are simply obliged to occur with failures, then the further, the more errors will accumulate in the body, until, in the end, it will safely fall apart as a piece of twisted mutated biomass. Well, or the new genome will throw out something, incinerating, turning the "glitchy" organism into dust/water/air, etc. In general, the idea itself is very good, but the execution is disappointing and requires serious revision. Now, if only this process could be made smoother and stretched out over seven to ten years, so that the organism's changes would occur as a result of natural renewal, or, at worst, if we could add a mechanism for DNA variability, like, say, during the same molting of animals... but here it turns out neither here nor there.
Moreover, the machine's disadvantages did not end there - there was also a "reverse thrust" that hit the operator. More precisely, the device tried to "rephase" the "donor" of the original pseudo-magnetic fields along with these very fields. As a result, the body of this very donor experiences a wild load, and with prolonged exposure it will also go haywire, because of which the donor has a real chance of dying.
And here was the main irony of the situation. Eric could not improve the machine so that it would not harm the operator, having simply hit the "ceiling of technology", and also not having the ability to normally collect statistics, since he would have died much earlier than he collected the necessary data in order to initially feel where exactly to move in the design. And because of the same impossibility of collecting statistics without risking his own life, he could not find out that the mutants being created were natural living dead. In total, three field tests were conducted, and all three were on the waste that Magneto himself was using up, barely convinced that they had any abilities. So it turned out that, driven by the threat of the adoption of a law on the registration of mutants, the radical decided not to bother and just find a suicide bomber with magnetism in his place, or, even better, someone like Rogue, who could copy his own ability and die for the future of the entire species.
However, it was no longer important. I remembered the drawings of both this device and Cerebro - they would be useful in the household, and with the addition of the capabilities of the aces, all the above-mentioned shortcomings could be leveled out, and these are such prospects that there are simply no words. Now all that was left was to wait for the prof and ask what he was planning to do with all this bedlam?
I waited for the X-Men to arrive, digging around in the guts of Magneto's invention. Not that I needed it, since I literally saw all the stages of its design and construction through the eyes of the chief designer, but it was still interesting to touch what I saw with my hands. I wasn't worried about the prisoners, having magically put them into a deep sleep and left them to keep an eye on another illusion. The presence of three controlled phantoms, busy with independent matters, began to be felt, but the brain was still coping with the parallel distribution of attention. But about forty minutes later, a futuristic-looking dark-gray vertical takeoff aircraft flew up to the lonely island used by Eric as a base. After circling above the rocky shore for a couple of minutes, it carefully touched down on the helipad next to the transport that had brought me here, after which the long-awaited heroes descended from the opened ramp.
Jean stayed at the school to look after the kids, Senator Kelly and another phantom of mine that I created to monitor the condition of the said senator, but the rest arrived in full force, even Logan showed curiosity and was now descending the gangway along with everyone else, looking around with interest.
"Where is Eric?" Xavier asked first, as soon as the wheels of his chair touched the ground.
- In the helicopter, - my illusion responded, following alongside. - I was too lazy to look for living quarters, and I laid him right on the chairs. His assistants are there too.
"Won't they run away?" Storm looked at me worriedly.
"I put them into a magical sleep - they won't wake up on their own.
"I need to talk to him," Charles said decisively, steering the chair toward the helicopter.
"I don't mind," answered my second illusion, who was guarding this very helicopter while the first one dissipated, so as not to strain my brain any more. "But before that, I recommend that you ask me how it all could have ended here," I smiled. "Well, what if you need arguments?"
The professor peered through the open door, making sure that his old friend was lying in the helicopter cabin safe and sound, and even somewhat comfortably, unlike Toad, who was thrown to the floor. Mystique was also granted comfort, but the telepath only glanced at her briefly.
"I'm listening," Charles turned to me, calming my darkest fears (even though I assured them that I had done nothing to them).
- Well, make yourself comfortable, and I ask the particularly impressionable to sit down, - I smile into the mutants' faces and begin my story...
Eric Lansher, a little later.
The man woke up with his head on something soft. His eyelids lifted with difficulty, revealing a vaguely familiar ceiling... of a helicopter cabin. How he had ended up there remained a mystery, which his memory stubbornly refused to answer, but when he tried to get up, a pain shot through the back of his head.
"Hello, Eric," a painfully familiar voice greeted him, immediately triggering an avalanche of memories.
- Charles... - savoring every sound, the mutant said, slowly sitting up. There was no helmet on his head, Mystique was lying unconscious on the opposite side of the helicopter cabin, and Toad was lying like a sack in the aisle between the chairs. - So you outplayed me, - at the exit from the cabin he really found Xavier, behind whom stood one of his students. With a blood-red visor on his face. - Who was that? - and without thinking about using his powers, although there was enough metal around, he touched the back of Magneto's head with a smile.
"I'm afraid you won't take my word for it," his vis-à-vis returned the friendly smile.
- Why?
"It's hard to believe that the fairy tales from history books have any real roots," his old friend responded incomprehensibly. "I'd be happy to tell you about him, but right now we have a more pressing problem."
"Yes," all hint of amusement disappeared from the mutant's face, "you prevented me from ensuring the future of our species."
"I prevented you from making the most terrible mistake of your life," the telepath shook his head. "If your plan had succeeded, not only the leaders of more than two hundred countries, but the entire population of New York would have died, unable to survive the forced mutation," Charles moved closer, looking him in the eyes seriously and without any falsehood. "Eric, your invention does not make ordinary people mutants, it initiates the mutation gene that is already in the human body…"
The friend's story dragged on for a long time. Senator Kelly had survived a twenty-foot fall into the rocky surf and had swum several miles to shore, only to die before his captor's eyes, disintegrating in a few liters of water on the medical table. The video recording had been made right during their conversation with Charles, and Magneto had seen the entire process with his own eyes from the laptop screen. One could suspect a set-up, but such a blatant lie had never been his friend's style. Besides, the new information about the latent X-gene was not something Xavier would joke about. If we were to assume for a moment that his friend's prognosis had been correct and all those irradiated had met Kelly's fate... after such annihilation of a multi-million city and world leaders, the law on forced registration would have seemed like child's play. Mutants would have simply been shot on sight.
"I understand you, Charles," Magneto replied, having considered the information that had come to light, "but it still won't change anything. I will continue our fight."
"I know," Xavier answered wearily.
"Are you going to hand me over to the authorities?" Eric grinned ironically with half his face.
"You kidnapped Senator Kelly and killed his assistant," Charles sighed, darkening and giving him a condemning look, "but I'm unlikely to be able to prove it after the witness's death.
"And if you don't want to draw attention to your school," Lansher's smile grew wider.
"I think you're wrong, Eric," his friend's blue eyes were sharp, "but… I was recently told that the world needs both of us, and I have to agree with that point of view. I can't be a leader for mutants around the world if we actually have to fight for survival. But you can. I'll let you go, but I ask you, Eric, not to resort to drastic measures if you can avoid them. The war hasn't started yet. We shouldn't be the ones to fire the first shot. The ones who bear responsibility."
"I won't promise," the metal lord shook his head.
"But you can promise to try," the telepath did not back down.
"Yes," Magneto nodded this time. "You know my opinion - the war is already going on, it just hasn't entered the hot phase yet. But I won't do anything that could harm mutants.
- I hope so.
"Since we've come to an agreement," the head of the Brotherhood of Mutants said, feeling that for the first time since the beginning of the conversation the tension was leaving him, he switched to a warmer tone, "let me ask you now."
"Of course," Xavier accepted the tone, closing his eyelids in a conciliatory manner.
- What happened to Sabretooth? Was it from him that you learned about my plans?
"No," Charles shook his head. "I'm sorry, but when he attacked the car Rogue was riding in, his head was cut off."
"What?" Lansher was genuinely surprised. Hearing such a confession from the victim-averse Xavier was like meeting the real Santa, and even then the latter would have surprised the aged mutant less.
"He was unlucky," the telepath pursed his lips. "There was one... person riding along that road with Rogue. With very complex abilities. Realizing that Sabretooth was able to regenerate damage, he decided to end the fight in the most... reliable way.
"Couldn't he have been pretending to be that girl on the train?" Magneto immediately guessed, not believing that such significant situations could be coincidences.
"Yes, it was him," the old friend confirmed his expectations. "His name is Loki, and according to his statements, which I have every reason to believe, he is a real God from Asgard…"
***
Oddly enough, the story of the event that could have led to the start of World War III and a planet-wide mass slaughter ended very peacefully. We loaded the device on board, I woke up Magneto's subordinates, and the high negotiating parties dispersed. They didn't even try to squeeze the anti-telepathic helmet back from me. However, nothing surprising, because by itself it was completely useless, working only in combination with Lansher's abilities. The principle was the same as Cerebro, only the other way around - when reflected from the inner surface of the helmet, Eric's gravitational-magnetic field wave was dispersed, and the resulting spectrum resonated with the electromagnetic field of his brain, making it immune to telepathy. In theory, using the same technology, it was possible to create a blocking helmet to neutralize telepaths, but Lansher was not involved in developments in this area and did not want to be involved.
But I got distracted, and meanwhile our plane calmly left the island and headed for New York, without ever receiving a farewell greeting in the back. In general, everyone is alive, everyone is happy, and for some reason I am sure that soon Senator Kelly's place will be taken by a flexible person with a blue bottom, and the main champion of the registration law will sharply change his "political orientation."
"Tell me," Storm, who had been sitting in the first pilot's seat and flying the plane with Scott, suddenly moved into the seat next to me, "could you help Senator Kelly?"
"I'm not a healer," I answer with utmost honesty, looking into the girl's eyes, where genuine concern about the issue raised was reflected. "I could have prolonged his torment for a few hours, but even if I had the Soul Furnace, I would hardly have been able to heal him."
- And no hope?
- There is always hope, - I shrug, - but Kelly was too old, and a life full of stress, even without any forced mutation, had exhausted his body. In such a situation, even Odin could not have done anything - except to connect Kelly's life with some powerful artifact, but this is already very specific and not worth mentioning, because it will only confuse.
"And what is the Crucible of Souls?" the mulatto woman continued her questioning with the same interest in her eyes.
- Mmm... - I even thought about it, throwing my head back on the chair. - To put it very roughly, it is a device for transmitting molecular energy in space. In particular, it allows you to set a physical projection of the entire object, obtaining an electron microscope of global action, which has feedback, as a result of which changes made to the projection of the object affect the object itself. But since we are having an evening of questions and answers, then allow me to ask you something about your world?
"Okay," Storm nodded, "what do you want to know?"
- What cuisine do you prefer?
– What… kitchen? – the girl was surprised.
- Yes, that's exactly what I want to know.
- For what?
- Of course, so I can invite you to dinner later! I think it would be much more pleasant to talk about science and other interesting topics with a glass of wine in hand and something tasty on the table, that's why I'm interested.
- ... - the mulatto woman fell silent for ten seconds, looking away. I already thought that I had gone too far and that the conversation was over, but... - I love fried chicken with rice.
- Excellent! - I smiled contentedly. - And which restaurant in New York serves the best in your opinion?
"I don't know," Ororo was clearly not herself, especially since someone (we won't point fingers, but it was Logan) was already carefully looking at us sideways. Or warming their ears, like Cyclops forced to fly a plane. "I don't have much experience going to restaurants."
– It seems to me that it makes sense to correct this.
"Do the gods of Asgard have earthly money?" the mulatto woman tried to joke, clearly trying to quickly move the conversation away from the topic that was embarrassing her.
– Let's just say that inviting the God of Deception to play poker... is not the best idea, even if he looks like a pampered city peacock, and you are the best local card sharp with a cover group.
"And…" she didn't expect such an answer, "how much?"
- Oh, don't count the despicable green wrappers, - I smile with maximum cordiality and a drop of irony. - After all, what is money when it comes to dinner with such a beautiful Goddess?
So, having changed the subject to things much more pleasant than mutated senators and secrets of Asgardian technologies, we flew to the secret school of mutants. Well, and completed the mission to save the world from either the Third World War or from a general civil war, but these are already details.
***
After the memorable saving of the world, life somehow suddenly entered a quiet and peaceful rut. Storm avoided me as much as she could, hiding all day long either in lessons with small mutants or running away somewhere in the city on business. They did not say a definite "no" to me and even sometimes tried to make contact, but at the same time they were clearly afraid, and not at all as an annoying man. Charles conducted telepathy sessions with Logan, collecting his memories piece by piece. Logan himself did not escape his fate and, having gotten used to it a little, began to spread his tail in front of Jean Gray, which did not go unnoticed by Scott Summers and gradually led to the birth of a canonical conflict. Rogue was quietly and peacefully introduced into the school routine, and although she appeared in the middle of the school year, she did not seem to experience any particular difficulties about this. Well, as for me... I was destroying the cocoa reserves in the kitchen, sometimes switching to tea and coffee, and rummaging around in Magneto's machine, drawing up a diagram of the "X-gene stimulator 2.0". I didn't yet know what to replace Eric with in the core of the device, but there were options for making the body's restructuring smoother and safer.
Oh yeah, I also met the rest of the estate's inhabitants, and... a complete bummer. There were many familiar names and nicknames among the kids and teenagers, but if I didn't care about the appearance of Iceman, Pyro or Colossus, then the appearance of the local Jubilee and Kitty Pryde... was depressing. You couldn't say that they were ugly - not at all: sweet and pretty young girls, especially Kitty, but they were not at all the cuties and charmers from the cartoons of my childhood. Yes, attractive and even quite interesting in other situations, but not at all like those images that firmly took a place in my oldfag heart. In fact, they had nothing in common, except for some preferences in clothing style, and even there the similarity was rather conditional. And it made me sad - I just couldn't look at them and not compare them to the "original", and then suffered from the inconsistency and painful irony of fate, when you got into the world of your favorite childhood waifus, but it turned out that they are not here, but some completely different people who just have the same names. Once again, the Marvel Cinematic Universe gave me a boot in the balls and trampled my lustful hopes. I hate the Marvel Cinematic Universe...
A week passed at this pace, and then Logan got ready to leave. He didn't have much with him, so it didn't take long, and the next morning he came to say goodbye to me in the workshop. Or rather, to the room that Charles kindly gave me for this matter.
"So, Canada again?" I summed up his speech, indicating the final point of the route.
– The professor thinks that I will find answers there.
"It turns out he's already completed the restoration of the foundation," I chuckle thoughtfully. "Quickly."
"What are you talking about?" Wolverine asked, somehow reflexively taking out a cigar.
- Memory is a very complex thing and greatly affects personality, - I shrug. - And Charles has a thing about this topic, even a hint of re-cutting someone else's personality is Taboo for him. So it turns out that, most likely, he collected the fragments of your memory, restored the associative links between them, but left the final fusion of these fragments with your current "I", as well as its sequence, to you yourself. It is not as fast as returning everything at once by force, but you will not go crazy from the abundance of information received at one time. Well, and at the same time, to some extent, you yourself will decide what from the past to allow to influence your present self, and what can be left behind. With an external connection, the priority can only be set equal ... - I twitch my cheek vaguely, - or you can do some magic, choosing what will be important to you and what is not. But this is not about Prof.
- And you... do you understand? - with the inimitable intonation of "I'm trying to feign surprise, but... who am I kidding?" the regenerator raised his eyebrows.
"Mental magic," I spread my arms with a smile, creating between them the illusion of a schematic section of a human brain, on which sits a woodpecker, actively working its "head." "It's very different from telepathy in its principles of action, but I can also look at someone else's memory."
- Why did you keep quiet?
"Looking at it is not going to restore it," I lied a little, but not too much. "It's better to go to Xavier for that. For him, it's his major, but for me, it's a hobby."
"Okay," Logan finally lit his cigar. "Are you staying here?"
"If they don't chase me away," I spread my hands playfully. "Here…" I glance around the room suggestively, "it's nice. And quite comfortable."
"Cocoa?" the man grinned knowingly, having already gotten used to my eccentricity.
- And gorgeous mulatto women with snow-white hair. You can never forget about gorgeous mulatto women, - I mirrored the smile, playing with my eyebrows. - Well, and I just like that here absolutely no one cares about my abilities. I'm afraid it won't be so free anywhere else.
"I understand," Logan released a thick cloud of smoke from his chest, remembering something, which caused his gaze to defocus. However, this did not last long, and the mutant shook himself. "Well, bye, God of Magic," they extended their hand to shake.
"It was nice to meet you," I responded honestly, shaking her hand, "Wolverine."
Half an hour later, Charles Xavier's office.
"Did you want to talk about something, Loki?" the telepath greeted me as soon as I closed the door behind me.
We haven't communicated much in the last few days, and I almost never approached first. I generally tried not to bother the inhabitants of the estate, so I often even moved around the territory invisibly.
- I wouldn't mind playing chess with you, but yes. I have a couple of topics for discussion, - I smile at the owner of the house.
"I'm listening," Charles responded readily.
- I understand that this will sound impudent, but I would like to ask permission to dig into your mutant database. Medical records, ability studies, biographies, - having walked across the office to the guest chair during my speech, I sat down comfortably in it. - In short, everything that you have accumulated during your work. Of course, I could get into your computers myself, but that would be impolite.
"I have no doubt," the telepath twitched his cheek sadly, a chill settling in his eyes. "But let me know, why do you need this information?"
- I want to make sure of one of my theories. You see, I can't get over the question: why do some mutants control their powers perfectly and don't even have any particular difficulties with mastering them, despite their sometimes very extensive capabilities, - I nod hintingly at Charles, telling the pure truth, - while others are not able to influence them at all. Besides, in some cases, I may well be able to help.
"Do you understand genetics?" Xavier's gaze lost most of its wariness, replaced by a businesslike interest.
- I'm afraid there is no such concept in Asgard in its pure form. We call all areas of knowledge "magic" and rarely separate them - a long lifespan does not imply the birth of a narrow specialization, but the answer is yes. I know the area of knowledge that you call genetics quite well. Although, to be honest - I prop my cheek with the fingers of my right hand - I am not a great expert on the earth's biosphere, and correcting this will take time.
"Okay, you've convinced me," the invalid closed his eyes. "And wha…" but the professor's words were interrupted by the door swinging open.
"He stole my motorcycle!" Cyclops burst into the room with a mixture of indignation and confusion on his face.
- What happened, Scott? - the professor turned to him in bewilderment. - Who stole your motorcycle?
- Logan! I just walked into the garage and he's not there! - Summers looked so funny that my lips began to twist dangerously, barely holding back the laughter that was bursting out. As luck would have it, scenes from the movie and Wolverine's satisfied face came to mind. - This is not funny! - the young mutant noticed my state.
"I fundamentally disagree," I declare a decisive protest, with an effort of will still returning a semblance of a sedate expression to my face. "And you must admit – he was consistent."
- What? - Cyclops did not understand.
"Remember what his main complaint was against you back in Canada," I gave a leading hint.
- Um, - the guy was clearly having a hard time picking out something central from all those arguments, - that he has to leave his things behind? - he still made an attempt.
In response, I simply snapped my fingers, and an illusion of a snow-covered Logan appeared in the center of the room, with a very displeased face and claws out:
"My car has never been so protected from attacks," the phantom said, exuding gigatons of brutal skepticism, looking at Scott, and immediately disappeared.
"Ahem!" Cyclops cleared his throat, looking away from the professor and me.
- Agree, it was expected, - I smiled with a bit of sympathy. - But thank you for reminding me. This is exactly the second topic I would like to discuss, and I think you will not be superfluous in this conversation. Charles? - I look at the telepath, asking with my eyes for permission to continue.
"I'm listening," realizing that the unexpected invasion had been temporarily settled, the mutant preferred to complete the first task before moving on to the rest.
"You have a terrible security system," I said bluntly. Since I had already registered here, I was not going to allow that assault from the second film under any circumstances. Of course, before raising this issue, I looked around well, but the conclusion was disappointing. "It is enough to lure you personally away from the school, and one competent special forces squad will be enough to clear everything here at night. They may lose a few people," I nod at Cyclops, "but even a trained professional can do little if he is caught by surprise," I glance at the mutants. "Considering recent events, I would advise you to take care of this issue, just in case. There are radicals not only among mutants.
- I-I agree! - Cyclops quickly agreed, barely having digested my speech. - I've been saying for a long time that we need to strengthen the perimeter defense! After Mystique walked around here and almost sent you into a coma by ruining Cerebro, you should agree!
- Ah, - the bald man in the wheelchair ran his palms over his face in pain. Apparently, this was far from the first argument...
"If you decide to install retractable turrets, I can write an artificial intelligence to control it," I kindly offered. "Just don't connect it to the network, your human Internet is something terrible. Children shouldn't be shown such things - psychological trauma can lead to a manic desire to destroy your species."
"What children?" Scott asked in surprise.
– A newborn artificial intelligence is the same as a child. It needs parental involvement, care, and an explanation of what is good and what is bad. Ideally, it should be kept isolated for a couple of years, allowing contact only with a few intelligent ones, until the personality is fully established, but this is not necessary in your school.
"Loki," Xavier called me softly, "let's talk about creating artificial intelligence another time. Instead, tell us what holes you see in the perimeter..."
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