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"Emotional. Not like, sexual. I know you don't do that." Madin paused. "I mean. um. Can I explain?" Once again Madin received the slightly too-long stare, then Sharon nodded. Madin stared at the TV, rather than at Sharon. "You know I spent time in detention? I was really young. Like, I wasn't even 18. They had programs for us, lots outdoor ed. Hiking. Camping. Our own section of the compound. But we weren't fully segregated. Some of the adults were. They were there for us. Never tried to fuck me, but... they taught me about the Brotherhood. Got all up in my emotions. Taught me to be angry. And about how we need a revolution." Madin kept talking, quietly. "After we. After they broke us out, I was in one of their safe houses. They. They made me understand that I needed to join them if I wanted any kind of life. I guess you could call it grooming. I guess. If you were being technical." It was like a dam had broken. Madin continued, "we'd rotate out of the field sometimes for a few months and get placed with the Underground. It was nice. Sure, we were always squatting but there'd be people from the Underground who agreed with us and cities like LA or London and Marseilles are so easy compared with Lagos or Kinshasa. All we had to do was keep an eye out for mutants who were.... angry was good, especially against humans. Or people who didn't know much about the world because they'd been sheltered. Solo teenagers were good, as long as they had good powers. Useful powers. But we'd work on them. Be the cool friends who convince them to join a terrorist group." The younger girl watched them with the concentration of one trying to puzzle out a particularly advanced math problem. "Your circumstances are noted," Sharon said, "and these are difficult also. But recruitment, this I do not require. I socialize with whom I please. What my friends choose to believe or do, this is no matter." "They'd have loved getting hold of you, or Match, or Shatterstar or Julio. They'd have convinced you to join eventually. They can... they work on people." Madin kept their eyes locked on the TV. Carlton were closing the gap on Brisbane. "But it's. The emotional stuff. It's worse than fucking a teenager. You take a teenager, get all in their emotions until they'd do anything for you." "I cannot be compelled," Sharon replied with the bold confidence of one who had never had to live within a hostile system and an ever-shrinking pool of choices. Nonetheless, she grudgingly considered Madin's words. "With Liam," she continued, "is only that we are both Cat. We understand each other as others do not. When you are told to be this or be that, even though is not natural or intuitive, is it not desirable to have one who expects you to be nothing but yourself? Still, your concerns become more understandable, maybe." Sharon's clawed fingers pricked at the carpeting of the shelf as she slowly tried to follow their reasoning. "You feared I would do to the younger ones as older people did to you. Some influence that is harmful, but emotional only. Something that would keep them from developing independence. This is correct?" Madin's mouth was dry. "Yes." White teeth worked against a pink lip. At last, Sharon rendered her judgment. "Suspicion was unfounded," she said. "Accusations uncalled for also. Kitten is not so impressionable as you think. Still, intentions were just. To harm the young, this is wrong. In this we are in agreement." Sharon straightened, purple hair bouncing around her face with her nod. "Very well. You are forgiven." |
