"No need to apologize. You didn't make me uncomfortable."
Henry quickly cut off the Russian youth, whose personality was completely at odds with his appearance and who looked like he was about to launch into a long speech.
"Quicksilver should have told you about my suggestion. Any objections?"
"None, sir. Everyone will certainly appreciate having another, more comfortable place to stay."
Henry immediately began giving instructions.
"Good. You, Quicksilver, and two others—preferably people who know how to drive—come with me. I'll show you the way to the Tribeca apartment, and then you can use the car.
"Anyone who's capable of walking can go there on foot with someone accompanying them. It's only about three or four miles. Those who can't walk can be shuttled over by vehicle.
"Quicksilver and I will split up and get the things you need ready.
"As for who goes and who stays, I'd suggest listening to Ms. Hepburn's opinion. Then you can decide among yourselves how to divide everyone up. I won't interfere. Sound good?"
Colossus nodded.
"Yes, sir."
Unfortunately, Henry still couldn't get used to that heavy Russian accent, no matter how many times he heard it.
Especially when it reminded him of those early days after he had traveled through time...
Suppressing the urge to punch someone, Henry looked toward Katherine Hepburn, who was busy making phone calls and summoning people over.
Her private caregiver, Ms. Maria Thomson, was tending to the more seriously injured children.
"Kate, I'm taking a few people to the Tribeca apartment to show them the way."
The elderly woman covered the receiver with one hand.
"Henry, everyone is hungry. Pick up some food while you're out."
"Sure. I'll arrange for food to be delivered. I'll pay for it in advance and just have the delivery guy tipped when he gets here."
After answering her, Henry left with the others.
What followed was a hectic effort to settle the sixty-seven mutant students Quicksilver had brought with him, ranging in age from eight or nine to eighteen or nineteen.
The apartment on the twelfth floor in Tribeca was actually about the same size as the Hepburn residence.
But it was only slightly more finished than an empty shell.
There was a sofa and a low table, and little else. The central air-conditioning system was fully functional, providing both heating and cooling.
Precisely because there wasn't much furniture, the apartment appeared quite spacious and could accommodate a large number of people.
Some of the older students could stay there and look after the younger ones.
And because these children had fled for their lives, they were exhausted, hungry, and thirsty. The most basic necessities—food and water—were indispensable.
It was spring, too. The children had left the school in the middle of the night in a hurry, taking practically nothing with them. Some were dressed too lightly for the night.
If Henry couldn't prepare new clothes for them, then at the very least he had to provide sleeping bags.
No one knew how long this crisis would last.
It wasn't as though they could simply return to school. At the very least, they would have to wait until Professor X appeared, resolved the mess caused by William Stryker, and properly explained the situation to the U.S. government before things could return to normal.
Before that happened, however, Henry could identify families who were willing to accept their children's condition and arrange for those children to return home.
That would reassure both the children and their parents while also reducing the burden on the Hepburn residence.
The reason this screening was necessary was that quite a few of the children had essentially been recruited to Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters by Professor X under false pretenses.
Not every parent knew that the school was actually a school for mutants, nor that their own child was a mutant.
Professor X had told quite a few well-intentioned lies. He might even have secretly used his telepathy during the recruitment process.
Whether that method of recruitment was right or wrong wasn't something Henry intended to debate now.
At the moment, the people responsible for gathering supplies were Henry and Quicksilver.
Both possessed superhuman speed, so moving around the city without attracting attention wasn't particularly difficult for them. They were both quite accustomed to doing things this way.
Besides, having the two of them handle the supplies was much better than sending a group of tense students who had never experienced anything this serious before.
With the expressions those children were wearing, walking into stores to buy things would probably make the clerks think a robbery was underway.
They'd see a hand reaching into a pocket and assume a gun was coming out.
Of course, Henry wasn't about to have Quicksilver start looting stores for free.
He paid out of his own pocket, taking a sum of money and purchasing everything the children needed.
There was a saying: help someone through an emergency, but don't make a habit of supporting them indefinitely.
Spending money to support mutants might be throwing money into a bottomless pit, but helping them through a temporary crisis was hardly a problem.
Although Henry and Quicksilver could both make flexible use of their super-speed, they remained cautious whenever they had to interact with ordinary people.
After all, the mutant assassination attempt against the President had been made public, and the situation for mutants was hardly favorable.
Being too conspicuous would be practically the same as putting up a sign saying Come arrest me.
Just having a large group of children walk all the way to the Turtle Bay neighborhood looking for Henry had been enough for the police to smell something unusual and come knocking.
Fortunately, Henry had been a donor to the police welfare fund for quite some time.
Although his involvement in the 9/11 rescue operation hadn't been made public, the NYPD knew more or less what had happened.
So Henry's name still carried some weight within the department.
He openly admitted that he was sheltering a group of mutants, but emphasized that they were all minors.
That was enough to get them through the situation.
After all, no one believed that Henry Brown or Katherine Hepburn would have anything to do with the wanted mutant criminals.
And a group of minors obviously couldn't be accomplices in an assassination attempt.
Especially after Police Commissioner George Stacy personally settled the matter, the officers stopped interfering.
After spending the entire day frantically arranging everything and finally getting the children who had escaped Xavier's School settled, Henry returned to the Hepburn residence.
There, he found an unexpected helper the old woman had recruited.
Cathy Webb.
The paramedic, dressed in casual clothes, looked as though she had also spent the entire day running around helping people. Only now did she finally have a chance to catch her breath.
Even then, she wasn't exactly relaxing.
Cathy Webb was sitting on the sofa, with her thigh serving as a pillow for a little girl who had fled the school clutching her favorite doll.
Henry had met the female paramedic several times before and had even been rescued by her once.
With a Kryptonian physique, he probably couldn't have died anyway.
But she'd still carried him down the stairs and taken him to the hospital, which counted as a favor in Henry's book.
When he saw her, Henry greeted her.
"Ms. Webb, did Kate drag you here to help?"
Cathy immediately raised an index finger to her lips, signaling him to lower his voice.
Then she pointed toward the little girl sleeping on her lap.
"Just call me Cathy. I happened to have the day off today, so when I got the call, I came over."
The old woman happened to walk past at that moment.
"That's right. It's wonderful that Cathy could come help. Otherwise, with these old bones, who knows how long I'd have had to keep working?"
Some of the children had been moved to the Tribeca apartment, so the Hepburn residence was slightly less crowded.
A group of children had laid out bedding on the floor.
It wasn't even bedtime yet, but most of them were already lying there fast asleep.
That was probably because the psychological burden of being hunted and captured by the U.S. military had been too much.
Now that they finally felt safe, they had relaxed completely.
And once the tension disappeared, their exhausted bodies simply gave out.
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