by Simon Bown
“Thank you,” he said. “Have you heard from the Mezzyima representative?” He hoped his secretary had good news.
“No sir, sorry. Would you like to meet with your first visitors?” She asked.
Brightwell decided against postponing all meetings until he had met with the Mezzyima agent. “Who are they?”
“Three officers from the budget oversight committee, they’re here to discuss cutbacks on the appropriation of secondary personnel office supplies.”
Brightwell sighed. “Yes, give me five minutes and show them in,” he said. He relaxed in his chair and sipped at his tea. The display on his terminal indicated forty-seven messages awaiting his response. He listened to every one and tutted as he went. He opened the intercom to his secretary. “Can you send the first visitors in now please?” There was no reply. Brightwell tried again but once again there was no response.
The door opened and a tall man of approximately thirty entered the office. The man’s confidence was clear but it did not suggest arrogance. His immaculate dark plain suit clearly marked him as a successful civilian. He stopped and waited for the door to close behind him.
Brightwell got up from his chair, amazed at this audacious interruption. He opened his mouth to speak but found himself unable to say a word. The man approached and Brightwell found the unmistakable essence of telepathy seep into his mind.
“I thank you for keeping your diary open to see me, I apologise for my late arrival but I was held up by certain matters I would prefer not to go into.”
Brightwell sat heavily in his chair, a cold wave washed across him. He realised this man was the Mezzyima representative. Only such a talented telepath would be capable of working with Harmony, the famous Mezzyima telepathic community. The link between them had been totally transparent, a bond of the utmost clarity that even Brightwell, with his own considerable talent, had not experienced. He waited for the man to speak but found himself breaking the uncomfortable silence. “Well how can I help you?” He asked.
The man smiled and glanced across the room, a chair lifted from the wall and positioned itself behind him. He sat and talked with a confident, calm voice. “This moon is of much consequence in the hunt for Teafu, Weedon Bec and Sutton Courtney. You as head of security in this area of the Amalgam are of equal importance.”
Brightwell found himself drawn into the stranger’s eyes, his obvious talent for telepathy was very impressive and his confidence suggested more to the man than was immediately apparent. A shocking and yet exciting realisation dawned on Brightwell. “Are you an immortal?” Brightwell blurted the question out without thought as to the implications.
The man smiled and sidestepped the question. “I’m sorry, I didn’t introduce myself, my name is Jenson Sollers, and I am from planet Teg. I’m afraid we don’t have time for small talk, matters of much importance are pressing and we must act right away.”
Brightwell replied quickly. “Certainly, my staff are at your disposal.”
“Weedon Bec and Sutton Courtney are about to attempt an abduction.” Jenson said.
“A kidnap? Who, where and when.” Brightwell’s mind began racing through tactics, staff, availability of resources, what lead-time he may have…
“You, here and right now.”
Brightwell’s mind stopped dead. “Right now? What do you mean?”
“I monitored their arrival in orbit a short while ago, they will be leaving their star-ship in a few moments and landing at your docking area.”
Brightwell felt Jenson informed him of his current hazardous position with a certain regret. As if he was talking to a man with no hope, condemned and with no chance of reprieve. He was confused. “But this system is one of the most heavily monitored in the Amalgam, you must be mistaken. There is no way they could bypass our security.”
“They didn’t bypass it, it works just fine. Teafu has put up a telepathic blanking shield around them. All your systems responded the problem is that Teafu has bypassed the staff. They saw the star-ship arrive, it just didn’t occur to them to do anything about it.” Jenson tilted his head and closed his eyes.
Brightwell could see his eyeballs moving rapidly beneath his eyelids.
“We have a surprise for them, don’t worry you will be quite safe,” Jenson said.
Weedon cut the connection to the ship. Cables attached at various points on the fuselage released their links and snaked back into the maintenance compartment. He lowered the craft out of the hanger and free of the star-ship. The stunning panorama caused Weedon to pause for a short time. The moon’s planetary size made Weedon feel suddenly insignificant, a tiny being aware of his trivial place in nature. He reverted to his normal self and accelerated at the maximum his body could withstand.
The strength of the G force pushed Sutton back into her seat, unable to lift her limbs and with difficulty breathing she found telepathy her only avenue of protest. “Weedon, slow down now!”
Weedon’s considerable telepathic talent gave him little interest in developing his gift, for him it had always been a little too easy. “Of course my love.” He said colouring the link with a sarcastic hue. The space plane slowed to a sedate one G releasing them both from the grip of the momentum.
Sutton recovered quickly, thankful for a full breath. “I am not your love.” She shouted at him.
Telepathy was a common talent throughout the Amalgam, as with any ability there were those with extraordinary skill and those with a small amount of aptitude. Sutton was a member of the majority, limited to short sentences and broad feelings.
Weedon rolled the craft through one hundred and eighty degrees and dropped their altitude to a few feet. The space plane raced over the surface consuming the terrain with a ravenous hunger. At this height the perception of speed was at its most intense. Weedon sensed Sutton’s excitement, he also noted her hope he didn’t notice. The holographic map indicated the moon’s main city approaching fast over the horizon. Weedon righted the craft and lifted it to five hundred feet. The conurbation appeared ahead. It was made up of countless dull grey buildings segmented together in an efficient geometric arrangement that, if anything, failed to make an impression on them.
Sutton squinted as she studied the city in the distance. “Are you sure this is the right place?” She asked.
Weedon ignored her question and banked the craft into a severe nine G turn. The craft turned through a tight arc to a position one thousand yards directly over the city. Weedon paused while he located the most secure landing bay and without warning Sutton he powered downwards and landed the space plane. The docking umbilical activated and slowly reached out from the main entrance and sealed itself to the side of the craft. At the back of Weedon’s perception, just out of reach was an essence, a hint of personality, the ever-present Teafu watching every move. He changed his connection to Teafu by the smallest degree to communicate. “Are we clear to go?”
“Yes, you are free to move.” Teafu replied. His telepathic ability was without match, even the trans dimensional Mezzyima with their telepathic chorus, Harmony, could not match him. It was his ever-present energy that, as always, gave Weedon and Sutton their supreme confidence.
Brightwell Baldwin and Jenson Sollers had relocated themselves to the central security observation room. The many display screens gave them a view of every part of the moon’s small city. From here they were intending to monitor the capture of the two fugitives. The security officers manning the equipment had had quite a shock when their most senior officer entered unannounced. Luckily he had shown little interest in the shabby state of the room.
Brightwell asked for the docking umbilical to be put up on the main view screen. He watched as Weedon and Sutton exited the space plane airlock and casually walked through the umbilical to the hanger entrance. His mind struggled with what he had just witnessed, at one point it seemed not the slightest bit interesting and then the realisation of what he was witnessing shocked him. They were here. Two of the three most wanted, most evil
criminals were here to take him away. The shock switched off to be replaced by the most pleasant contentment. He found himself a seat and relaxed. He noticed Jenson in the room, he knew he was there for a reason but what it was escaped him.
Teafu was a little puzzled as he followed Brightwell’s progress through to the security centre. His control over Brightwell’s psyche had failed slightly, taking away some of his influence. Brightwell had, for a moment, become aware of Weedon and Sutton’s arrival and although Teafu had quickly reinforced his control, the lapse was peculiar. All this time a question was jarring on the back of Teafu’s mind, something was missing from what he was witnessing via his telepathic visualization and he couldn’t place what it was. He shifted his perspective from above the room to view it through Brightwell’s eyes. Teafu smirked when he saw the figure of Jenson Sollers standing behind the security men watching the main display.
Weedon and Sutton entered the hangar and crossed to the base entrance. They opened the door and found a group of twelve armed security men standing in two lines of six. Not one of the men reacted to the arrival of the two intruders. They remained in place, bored and unresponsive.
Weedon and Sutton continued through to the main corridor with no anxiety whatsoever. It was then Weedon noticed one of the guards move his eyes to watch him as he walked past and he stopped and looked back. This was not right he should have been totally invisible to them. It was then the connection to Teafu altered, Weedon looked at Sutton. “Did you feel that?” He asked.
Brightwell found himself lifted free of Teafu’s influence, he watched the security officers allow Weedon and Sutton to pass unharmed on the large display. A fear welled up inside him, he clenched his fists and got to his feet. “I thought you said you had a surprise for them? Is this it?” He asked.
Jenson glanced briefly at Brightwell and closed his eyes. He quickly entered a deep meditation and searched for a connection to Teafu. The several attempts so far at muting him had been relatively unsuccessful. He found Teafu once again and attempted to clamp down his link.
Teafu struggled with Jenson’s attempt to control him and found his influence on the area around Weedon and Sutton hampered. Mind states previously under his command lifted partly free and became only partially compliant.
Jenson moved forward across the psychic landscape and seized him with an unexpected strength.
Teafu reeled from the intensity of the shock and for a second lost his connection completely. It was then he realised he had been caught in an ambush, the essence of the Mezzyima glinted faintly, Jenson was not working alone. The outcome of a direct fight with the Mezzyima had always been an interesting question for Teafu, they had never had contact despite the many Mezzyima attempts at capturing him. He reached deeper into his psychic energy and found the source of his full potential, a resource he had never had cause to access until now.
Jenson struggled with the contact and searched deeper for his own reserves of energy. Teafu sensed the momentary weakness and hit Jenson with a telepathic pulse. The assault robbed Jenson’s psyche of any assurance. He collapsed to his knees and fell forward onto his face making no effort to soften the fall. His body convulsed and he coughed up a mouthful of vomit.
Brightwell watched Jenson soil his trousers, he was disgusted and put his hand over his mouth to try and block the smell.
Teafu smiled, Jenson’s psychic energy was all but depleted, and this left him as a mere conduit through which the Mezzyima could continue their pursuit.
Weedon and Sutton raised their weapons and fired, three of the security officers fell as the first volley of plasma cut into them. The area erupted into a cacophony of thunderous noise as the two enemies fired upon each other. The initial bolts of return fire struck the ceiling above Sutton, several lumps of debris fell and one cut through her jacket. She shifted her aim and ripped through the men’s legs with a ferocious volley of burning plasma. The collapsing guards found little capacity to reply to the attack and missed the two targets completely. Weedon and Sutton remained in their positions. Neither moved an inch as the hail of return fire blistered the area around them. They changed their attack pattern to a set of directed strikes, firing in short bursts at selected targets. The last of the guards were cut down and joined their colleagues on the floor. Despite the guards no longer posing a threat Weedon moved forward to kill each one. He approached the dead and dying and chose his victims with a calm impatience. He fired a burst of plasma into each, bored of the fight, he simply wished it to be over. The deafening noise ceased abruptly, the sudden silence an abyss to the cacophony of the preceding fire fight.
Weedon opened his telepathic senses and tried to contact Teafu. His essence still lingered in the energies around them but Weedon could not make contact. He checked the power cell on his weapon and walked off.
Sutton looked at the dead security men, the burned flesh still smouldered and a foul blood red vapour lingered over the bodies. She remained still as she took in the bloody scene. Her part in the killing had always been far removed from the actual physical act of taking a life. She monitored the systems on the star-ship while Teafu and Weedon orchestrated the several planetary attacks. In her experience taking one life or one million lives had not had any emotional impact on her. But here he lay before her, a man she had killed in cold blood. She had watched his life drain away and as she did so she had chosen another target and killed again. Something inside her seemed to quickly drain away. Something that had made her whole and given her self-respect was suddenly gone. The sound of a door opening brought her back to the immediate and she turned to see Weedon waiting for her. As she passed him through the doorway she kept eye contact with her partner in the slaying.
They entered a corridor over two hundred yards in length, doors punctuated its extent at regular intervals. Security staff went about their business as if the shocking noise of the fire fight had not echoed through the base. They walked along the corridor with no interruption confirming that Teafu was still with them even if his communication had ceased.
Brightwell turned to the small armoury cabinet and collected a plasma rifle and two energy pistols. His horror at witnessing Jenson Sollers collapse had sent his heart racing and he was having trouble stopping his hands shaking. He struggled out of his sweat soaked jacket and put the pistols in his belt. He checked the energy cell on the plasma rifle, it showed a full charge. He put it over his shoulder and studied the security displays looking for Weedon and Sutton. He shook his hands, clenched his fists and took a deep breath. He found Weedon and Sutton in a passageway several hundred feet away but they were heading for his current position not his office. He looked around the room. The staff paid him no attention at all. He opened a connection to the guard commander and ordered another group to intercept Weedon and Sutton. The commander was unable to understand the conversation, it was as if Brightwell was speaking a foreign language. A telepathic connection of extraordinary clarity filtered into his mind. Brightwell had never experienced such a breadth of understanding, at first he thought it must be the famous telepathic mind of Teafu informing him of some terrible truth but it was then he realised it was the Mezzyima.
“Loss of telepathic conduit imminent, prepare to defend yourself.”
Jenson had failed. The preparation made by him and the Mezzyima had obviously not been good enough. Brightwell was no longer defended by them and could be kidnapped by Teafu and his comrades at their discretion. He felt sick, a small amount of bile leapt into his mouth, burning his throat. It occurred to him that Teafu must be well aware of his location and directing his pair of killers to him. That was why they were making their way to the security centre and not his office. If he could stay one step ahead of them he might make it to the landing bay, get off the moon and jump clear of them. He could see Weedon and Sutton were now barely one minute away. He opened the opposite door and raced along the corridor to the transportation ring.
Weedon opened the door to the security office and motioned Sut
ton in first in a parody of polite manners. Jenson Sollers’ unfortunate condition had filled the room with a putrid smell. Sutton winced as she stepped over him to the main display desk. Weedon pulled a mindless security officer off his chair and sat at the control panel, he cycled through the main views until he found the desperate figure of Brightwell Baldwin pushing his way down a crowded corridor. Sutton and Weedon exchanged looks. They looked at the display and back at each other.
“Have you any connection with Teafu?” Weedon asked.
“No. We’ll have to get him ourselves.” Sutton replied.
“Where is he?”
Sutton looked down at him. “Well why don’t you get a map and find out?”
Weedon was momentarily perplexed by the myriad of controls on the panel in front of him. His hands hung motionless over them as he searched for the map command.
Sutton leant forward over him and brought up the base map. “It looks like he’s headed for the main transportation ring, if he gets off the moon we could lose him.” She sent a telepathic plea into the ether. “Teafu where are you?” She received no reply.
Teafu’s telepathic struggle with the Mezzyima had reached a standstill. No matter what the Mezzyima did they could not breach his psyche. Both combatants had directed powerful and imaginative strikes at each other but to no avail. The battle had ceased for the moment neither side withdrawing and neither side offering another assault. Teafu directed almost all his resources in the direction of his enemy, watching, waiting for the next attack. Every Mezzyima was connected to every other across the galaxy via a telepathic sub dimensional web. This universal bond, known as Harmony, allowed tremendous reasoning as every individual could consider a given problem at once. Every member of the race was capable of linking in and adding their telepathic weight. The entire Mezzyima race could be ranged against Teafu and yet they had still found no way to defeat him. If he was able to contain the Mezzyima now it would indicate that either they are not as powerful as is commonly believed or he is the most formidable telepath the known worlds had ever produced. The latter was most unlikely, therefore the Mezzyima were up to something and he must not be caught lacking.
