by A. A LEVINE
Orion Academy
Telepathy
Orion Academy
Telepathy
A. A Levine
Contents
Title Page
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
About the Book
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty- Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Orion Academy: Telekinesis
About A. A Levine
A. A. Levine
FOLLOW A.A. LEVINE
Copyright
Published by Aurora Levine
Copyright © 2019 Aurora Levine
All rights reserved.
Copy Editing and Formatting by Aurora Levine
Cover Design by Aurora Levine. Canva
Photograph by: Maksim Toome
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the over publisher of this book. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademark status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners. This eBook is licensed for your personal use only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.
Dedication
To everyone struggling with finding their place in life. Remember, we all have the ability to be great.
About the Book
Transmutation of species and survival of the fittest. Charles Darwin was on to something.
Holland Forbes is special. This isn’t just positive affirmation from her folks. She really is special. She’s a Breaker. Someone who possesses the gift of Telepathy, Telekinesis or Teleportation, though nobody’s manifested that last ability in a very long time. She’ll never forget the day the doctors at Palmer Biotech Institute came to her house and told her she’s a Telepath and since that day everything she’s studied in school has been designed to prepare her for a job in one of their secret facilities.
At the start of her junior year, she moves to the Orion Academy Compound. The remote section of campus designed to teach kids like her to control their abilities. She’s an overachiever, so this should be a piece of cake.
But day one she learns it’s not as easy as she thought. The training officers take pleasure in torturing the recruits, she’s separated from her family, and there’s something weird going on with her gift.
As she fights to earn a coveted intern position, new friendships are formed, others end, and she begins to suspect that there are secrets housed at Orion Headquarters that could put them all in danger.
Change is inevitable and man has no choice but to evolve. Scientists call this evolution different things, but we’re used to hearing the terms transmutation of species and survival of the fittest. Charles Darwin’s was on to something but I doubt he could ever imagine just how accurate his hypothesis would be.
Chapter One
Junior Year
HOLLAND GISELLE FORBES
The 3000-seat oval auditorium has more bodies in it than I’ve ever seen before. Today marks a day of transition for many of us who live on the Palmer Biotech Institute Campus. This place (thirty-two acres of land devoted to research and innovation in technology, medicine, math, and science) on the outskirts of New York; has been at the forefront of my education for as long as I can remember. Today marks a shift for me and so many other students in this room.
“I hope you all enjoyed your time off this summer.” A few cheers erupt around the room. Dr. Madison, the school’s headmaster readjusts his notes on the podium, as he waits for the noise to quiet down.
“To our freshman class, welcome. To our sophomores, welcome back.” His greeting is accompanied by more yells and screams. “And to the members of our junior class I am pleased to say that today marks the first day of an exciting time in your lives.”
I think back to my first opening day assembly two years ago. I was so excited to be starting high school and in awe of the junior class who were being given a speech much like the one we’re hearing now. At Freshman Registration we’re reminded of what a privilege it is to attend school on the Palmer Biotech Campus. Some students are here, because one or both parents are employees. Others have exhibited a higher mental aptitude and the traditional school setting can no longer meet their academic needs. Then, there are the students like me, with a genetic predisposition for more. We have off the chart IQ testing and exhibit abilities that others don’t.
A large portion of the genetic research that goes on at The Institute is to study these gifts. They’re called the Psionic Three’s (P3’s); Telepathy, Telekinesis- and the one that people would kill to have- Teleportation.
Telepathy is the ability that is most common around here. The most coveted students are Kinetics, because who doesn’t want to move stuff with their mind? That third "T", teleportation, is like the holy grail of superpowers.
There’s a pool going on whether or not that power still exists. It’s been almost fifty years since the last time someone who could teleport, attended this school, and even longer since anyone’s possessed all three gifts. The majority of us have one power but in the rarest of circumstances you may meet someone that has two. I’m talking about as rare as it is to meet someone with two different colored eyes. As a species, we’re still gaining our footing in the world. P-Biotech calls us Breakers, because we “break out” of the normal gene mold. Last year someone mentioned starting a petition to change our names but Dr. Madison’s office shot that down.
“For those of you entering your internship program whether it be at the Bio-genetics Institute or Orion Academy, I hope you apply yourself and surrender yourself fully to the process. The work you will do and the things we will learn based on your contributions can be the building blocks for eliminating cancer, advancing technology or creating positive climate changes in our world.”
I look around the room at the people who I’ve attended classes with for the last two years. This is the last time some of us will be in the same place until graduation. More cheers erupt and I smile and giggle with the people sitting next to me. It’s a rousi
ng speech.
“Today is also bittersweet because we will be losing you.” He continues. “But I know you will go out and make me proud.”
I glance behind me. The number of students representing this year’s senior class is small. They’re a mixture of last-minute transfers, or people who chose not to enroll in an internship last year. Those students split their school week between here and the local college. At the end of this school year, they’ll have a high school diploma and an associate’s degree. They’re all expected to go on to a college, paid for by The Institute, and select a degree track in one of the research disciplines. There’s no liberal arts or basket weaving allowed. When they’ve finished school, no matter how long that takes, they will fall into a job here and the cycle continues. The path to a job when you take an internship is a little different, but even then, all roads lead to employment here.
I think I can speak for almost everyone in this room when I say we’re more than excited about this school year. Junior year was all we could talk about when we were freshman and sophomores but back then, I don’t think any of us could comprehend what being in the 11th grade really means. Now I do. Today is the day our lives change forever.
I search the room for my brother Aiden. This will be the first year our school day doesn’t synch up. He’s working on a degree in molecular and genetic biology, so he’ll be interning with the Bio-genetics Lab. Aiden’s on the far right side of the room closest to the door. Standing behind him are the suits, members of the security detail that work for The Institute. They’re doing what they do best watching- always watching- and they’ve dressed up in their nicest blazers for this occasion.
Today’s group of power suits, are here to provide transportation to my new home away from home. That would be the one thing the faculty doesn’t clarify when you’re a wide-eyed freshman dreaming about your future here. That you’re expected to move on campus. I’ll still be on P-Biotech’s grounds but, for the next sixteen weeks, I’ll be living on the Orion Compound totally cut off from my family and friends, so I may as well be on the other side of the country. Other details about what to expect this upcoming year are scarce. I like having information; the more the better, so flying blind makes me nervous.
Being away from Aiden makes me nervous too. We’ve been inseparable all our lives, except for the five minutes when he left me in the womb. Four months, all I have to do is survive until winter break.
You can do it. I tell myself. Our twin-tuition stretches across the vast space. Aiden turns to face me and gives me a reassuring nod. I can do this.
Much too soon, the assembly is over and we’re dismissed to our assigned groups. Aiden meets me at the exit doors and slings an arm across my shoulder. He’s basically resting his elbow on my shoulder because he’s all legs like our dad. My confidence waivers. What if I can’t do this? My stomach’s tied up in knots, like there are half a dozen golf balls bouncing around in there. “Why am I doing this, when I can be in a research lab studying gene sequencing with you?”
“Because learning to use your gift is important. You could actually wind up with a job finding and helping people like you. Like anything, controlling your telepathy will take practice. Now is the time when you get to do that.”
It’s all speculation about what happens at Orion. We know it’s where Breakouts go to train. We also know that it’s the feeder program for the security team and some other high level Special Forces shadowy government stuff that we can’t talk about, but that’s about it. The first rule of Orion Academy is no one gives out any specifics about Orion Academy.
I see Aiden’s ex Indira Waverly standing off to the side. She’s human, but she’s moving to Orion Academy too. She’s a whiz at probability and strategic assessment. I was there the day the recruiter told her she’d make an excellent Intel Officer at Orion. There are plenty of other people with none of the PSY-3 abilities here too. On average, I think they outnumber us by almost six to one. Kari looks at us and does that whole, I don’t care about what my ex is doing even though I still do, eye roll.
Aiden gives me a quick hug. “Think of this time apart as practice for college. I’ll see you at winter break.” I watch as he jogs across the field towards the Medical Research Laboratory, and wave to his retreating back, before crawling into the back of one of eight grey vans.
Chapter Two
Phase I
Holli
The buzz and excitement of the other students makes the car ride across campus seem more significant than it is. I estimate it’s maybe thirty of us in each van. I recognize a tall girl with red hair; I think her name is Chloe, from my ninth grade English class. Then there’s the boy who sits four rows behind me in French, and I saw the four musketeers; Brett, Shane, Leo, and Wes pile into the first van. I had trouble with the wheel on one of my suitcases, so I was one of the last people ready to go, which put me in the last vehicle. Not that I want to be in the lead van with the musketeers. We definitely don’t run in the same circles.
“What do you think’s gonna happen when we get there?” The question comes from the girl with dark hair sitting next to me.
“Hopefully lunch. I’m starving.” Says another.
School was on a two-hour delay, so we’d have time to finish packing and saying goodbye to our parents. Dad dropped Aiden and I off this morning with a litany of good lucks, be strong, I love you’s and peeled out of the parking lot on two tires. He hates goodbyes.
“Oh. I can help with that,” says the blonde to her right. She holds out a glazed honey bun and looks around for more hungry students. “Anyone else?” I watch a few of the sticky treats get passed down the line and stifle a giggle. She seems to have an endless supply of them in her purse. When she turns to me, I decline the offer because my stomach’s too tied up in knots to eat anything, especially sweets.
Fifteen minutes later the van slows to a stop. I hear doors opening and closing and try to see over the seat back in front of me.
“What’s going on? Are they getting out?” Honey bun asks.
The driver turns to us. “What are you waiting for? A special invitation? Get out.” That’ll be a yes. They’re, I mean, we’re getting out. The door yanks open and I scramble from my seat making my way to the trunk. We’re standing behind the van waiting for the driver to pop it open so we can retrieve our suitcases but he pulls off instead. There’s a chorus of what the hells and where the heck’s around me.
“Does anyone know what’s going on?” A voice towards the front asks.
Shane, the head musketeer speaks up. “The driver told us we have to go the rest of the way on foot.”
“O-Kaaay. And where are we going?” Honey bun looks around and steps towards the edge of our group. “Because I don’t see any buildings.”
“All he said was we go on foot.”
Wes chimes in. “And to head northwest.”
“Which way is northwest?” Another voice to my left asks.
There was a list of what to bring that came in the mail this summer. Pack enough clothes appropriate for all seasons. Bring the items on the school supply list. Some workout clothes an alarm clock, linen. Things you’d take if you were going to summer camp or boarding school. The one thing we couldn’t bring were cellphones, tablets, laptops, or anything Internet capable, so pulling up location services or a compass app is out of the question. I look up at the sky. We’re surrounded by massive trees and the sun is barely visible.
Someone from one of the other vans speaks. “The sun rises in the east and sets in the west. It’s about midday so it should be almost directly overhead. North would be straight ahead right? I mean we were heading away from the Student Activity Building and the Main Gate. Right? That’s north.”
We all look at each other unsure of whether that’s true. The road outside the main gate heads south, my watch says it’s around 11:30, so his theory is correct. But we took a couple of right and left hand turns which make it hard to say which direction we were traveling in. For all
I know we could be close to the activity building or far away from it.
“We should probably start walking.” Shane says appointing himself de facto leader. I guess he thinks it’s a logical progression from bossing his friends around.
“Walk? Are you crazy? They’ve got to be coming back with the cars. This is a test right? I mean all my stuff is in the trunk, and I can’t walk in these shoes.” Chloe shrieks.
I look down at her strappy sandaled feet. She’s right, this asphalt, will ruin her heels. I look at my own shoes. My heels are lower, but they’re not designed for walking either. Still, I fall in line with everyone else, not seeing any other choice. If this is a test, it’s about following rules. I’m great at that. If the rule says walk, I walk. Nobody else objects to his nomination, or his orders, because we all follow him up the road.
We’ve been hoofing it for more than an hour when Honeybun announces she’s feeling lightheaded. I imagine the sweets are turning in her stomach and I’m glad I didn’t partake. I’m also glad my father forced me to shove a fruit and vegetable protein shake and multi vitamin down my throat this morning. Dad was an athlete growing up and insists that proper fuel in your body goes a long way. My brother and I don’t share that ideal. Aiden prefers pizza and burgers, and I like Thai and Indian takeout, but we have to suffer through healthy eating because dad does all the grocery shopping. I’m also kinda digging the gallon of water a day mandate he set down, because I’m sweating buckets which means I have a while before dehydration sets in.
Two hours into the walk, the top of my shoes feels like they’re rubbing blisters across my feet. The irritation is in the right foot more than the left. Probably because that’s my dominant side and I’m putting more pressure on it every time the terrain gets a little steep. I hear Chloe moaning with each step behind me. I know how she feels; we’re suffering for our job-correction- suffering to get to the place we hope will lead to a job after we graduate from college. I bend over and free my feet from the confines of my shoes.
