The lower levels of the Baxter Building had once been available to rent out to other businesses, the address definitely an item of notoriety. In the light of supervillain attacks of various sorts and Dr. Richards’ own continuing rise in income, the renters were released from their leases, and their offices had been converted to a variety of storage rooms, specialty testing chambers, spillover labs, and the like.

The third floor, however, had been reformed into basically a series of luxury apartments for temporary guests, while the first floor was more for tourists and those wandering in off the street for various purposes.

The second floor was reserved for business meetings with outside parties and demonstrations in various capacities. That’s where we were now.

Professor Charles Xavier was looking somewhat put off. Not only were the Pstatic Wards and anti-Div protections I’d helped put in place basically blunting his telepathy, everybody he was dealing with here was wearing a magnapsium headband, rendering his telepathic abilities completely useless.

He was just a guy in a wheelchair, being pushed around by one of his students, the tall kid with red glasses.

Director Carter was there, mostly because her recommendation had some severe governmental weight, at least equal to his, and in the open, to boot.

I was there because Jean and Director Carter wanted me there, mostly to watch. Susan Storm was hosting.

The elevator opened, and Jean stepped out with her new telepathy instructor, who had arrived from the Tribes just yesterday. Actually, she had come under full diplomatic visa to help tutor the new Phoenix, on temporary leave from her Headmaster position at the Cynosure of the Mind, the foremost psionic academy on the planet.

Her name was Cassandra Rantha, one of the adopted daughters of The Golden Hag, and I had just learned she was arguably the single most dangerous mortal telepath on the planet. Even Mentat wouldn’t contest her on that.

The expression on Xavier’s face when he saw her was interesting, to say the least.

Cassandra was short, slender, and very bald, with pale skin and large blue eyes, projecting an aura of formidable control and awareness. The ki of Moon and Sun rolled off her, giving her terrific focus and serenity at the same time.

She could probably take over the city in short order, if she was of a mind to. And yet, here and now, she held no power over anyone in this room... except the two who had come here to gain the Phoenix.

Xavier looked a curious mixture of ashen, regretful, afraid, and cornered furious.

We looked back and forth between the two of them. The resemblance was unmistakable.

Cassandra met his identical blue eyes, but didn’t stop at all, totally composed and sure of herself.

“You...” Xavier struggled to control himself. “Do you know what you have let in here?!” he demanded, almost trying to rise to his feet.

“Why don’t you tell them, dear Charles?” Cassandra replied, sweeping Jean ahead of her and sitting her down, then sitting down beside her.

Charles Xavier stared at her, quite overcome and caught off-guard. It was obvious that he was not prepared for her to be here.

“Do you know one another, Cassandra?” Susan asked, bringing her a cup of chamois tea and seating herself.

“I am his twin sister, although he did his very best to kill me in our mother’s womb.”

Everyone blinked at that admission, and she went on serenely as Xavier paled. “I survived through my own means, and Mother found me where I was growing a new body for myself. I was raised Cassandra Rantha, taught by her, and have long ago left behind any thought of my brother.” The intensity of her stare was marvelous. “Now, I will hear why my brother thinks he would be a better instructor of the psionic arts for the Phoenix than I. I expect to be incredibly amused.”

“You... The Golden Hag?” Xavier could only gasp weakly. “That is not... I could feel...”

“Charles, do not even think of measuring Mother’s heart by your standards.” Cassandra’s voice held an edge that was all glowing razors. “She wears darkness on her face all the time, and she can feel Evil raise its head from the world away. How do you think she found me, after all?”

Okay, we all blinked again, and even Xavier gasped.

“I have looked into the darkness that is Mother’s Curse, and saw that it can be overcome. Do you think I could disappoint her and still be alive? She is fully aware of how dangerous I am, and yet I am her daughter.” There was no mistaking the pride in her voice at that statement. “What are you, but a thief of the arts I have learned? So rich in your mutant pride that you can accept no other path than the one you have laid out? Was not the lesson Erik taught you enough?”

Xavier grit his teeth, knowing this fight was lost before it had begun. “Jean should be taught among others like her!” he went on, the argument empty on the face of it.

“So, a powerful telekinetic,” Cassandra inclined her head at Susan, “a powerful flame-user,” she simply pointed upwards, “and the most mentally disciplined young woman I have ever met? As well as several teenaged Totem-wielders, a chi-master, a mutate Heavy, and a thoroughly plain young man nevertheless chosen to represent a scientifically advanced alien culture?

“Which of these marvelous variety of young people are not suitable for her to associate with? Ah. None of them are mutants.” Her large eyes narrowed thinly. “They are not like you or I, Charles, and so they are not worth associating with?”

“I... did not say that.” Which was true.

“You inferred it, Charles.” Her eyes turned to me. “Do you know that this young lady had a very interesting theory? She believes that your internal specism is reverberating in the akasha and creating new racial hostility against the Powered of all kinds, but especially mutants, as they can subconsciously sense your bigotry.”

Xavier glanced at me in shock, having never met me save for the moment I took the Phoenix away from him. I just looked back at him silently.

“I haven’t had time to actually sense that this is true, having just arrived yesterday, but I wonder what it will mean for you if it is, and it is you who is whipping the resentment and hate in these lands to its renewed historical heights.” Cassandra folded her hands in front of her. “Regardless, I do not believe that you or your supposed little school is a suitable place for instructing the new Phoenix. If we want to truly discuss an inclusive atmosphere with a great number of people like her, I can sponsor her directly to the Cynosure, where she will be surrounded by literally hundreds of Psions, mutant or otherwise. We have a very robust primary school education system attached to the university, after all.

“Perhaps you think your little school and personal attention can compete with the Cynosure for atmosphere and resources?”

“Doctor Cassandra, you have made your point.” Director Carter’s intervention relieved Charles of having to make a humiliating admission. “Indeed, Headmaster Xavier, there are extreme reservations in the government about the... qualifications for your school. And especially the, shall we say, extracurricular activities of your students?” She flicked a knowing glance at the young man standing behind the Professor’s chair, and he visibly flushed nervously.

“Their powers present a clear danger to normal civilians until fully controlled,” Xavier began.

“Are you telling me that a force beam capable of punching steel isn’t dangerous to mutants in the exact same way?” I interrupted smoothly. “Glasses, lose the specs and take a good hard look at your mentor there. He seems to be immune to the beams by dint of being a specist.”

They both flushed.

“Your idea of separating mutants from the normal population is harkening back to the segregated past of the country, and all the terrible things that rose from it, Headmaster Xavier,” Director Carter went on. “The voices that want to do so basically are calling for concentration camps for mutants, to protect people from this ‘clear and present danger’.” Her brown eyes were very intent. “You are going down a very bad road here, Charles.”

He was stiff at her words. He had come to make an impassioned argument for instructing the Phoenix, and instead found his own efforts being put under a microscope. “You are recommending some other approach, Director?” he replied stiffly.

“Training in mutant abilities is, in the end, little different than training an exceptional athlete in terms of time and mindset. The balance of knowledge and social experiences of school are exactly the same as for the ones with no powers... save for the use of powers to intimidate others. Which, I believe, is exactly what we do not want to happen, and thus represents another reason to teach them discipline.”

“Director, many mutant powers are very suitable for combat, and there are many who want to use them that way,” he pointed out.

The look she gave him was pure reproof. “And you think I have not met people with powers who like to use them to commit violence? Perhaps you would also like to question me if I’ve fought people without powers who like to commit violence for no good reason?”

He backpedaled quickly. “Of course not, Director...”

“Your training of a paramilitary force that seems to be embarking on some personal agenda of yours is not winning you any friends in Washington, Xavier, and is flaming the fears of many archconservatives,” Carter went on coolly. “They would like to see a change in the education of your students.”

His hands tensed visibly. “Oh?” he asked with forced calm.

“Yes. Educate the students with all the other teenagers of their level, so they are a part of society, not outside of it. We already have some experience with the situation. Furthermore, we would prefer it if your educational efforts returned to the mainstream as well.”

He blinked in astonishment at that. “What?”

“SHIELD would like you to take over as Principal of Midtown High School and oversee ALL of its students, superhuman and civilian.” Her gaze on him was very direct. “Consider this an assessment test on whether normal humans and Powered, ALL Powered, not merely mutants, can actually co-exist.

“There are a very large number of humans who do not believe that such a thing is true, and are perfectly willing to kill Powered to make it so, too. Since the States here do not have someone as ominous as The Great Bear in charge, I would say we are at a very delicate time, Professor Xavier, and not just for the tiny sliver of Powered you call mutants.”

“Hey, Glasses, got a name?” I piped up in the silence that followed her statement. Regardless if he agreed with him or not, this was Director Carter, one of the most revered Shields in the entire world. He had no choice but to take her very seriously, indeed.

“Uh, Scott?” he replied, somewhat startled.

“There a reason you are wearing red glasses all the time, Scott?” I asked him directly.

A turn of his head indicated a glance at Xavier, who gave no response. “I-I suffered a head injury when I was younger, before my powers manifested. They... they won’t turn off. I’m constantly projecting eyebeams unless I close my eyes. The red quartz nullifies them.”

“So, you’re the Cyclops guy, shooting force beams all the time.” I tilted my head as he nodded. “And you’re saying that those steel-punching force beams are being projected out your eyes 24/7? Literally all the time?” I asked, my voice rising a bit incredulously.

“Y-yes?” he said hesitantly.

I glanced over at Cassandra, who had stiffened ever-so-slightly. “And you haven’t had your Core Opened, because your teacher there doesn’t know how to do it.”