They were a conglomerate mercenary organization. They worked for the parties that owned the world’s governments and operated outside of the law. They would show up where there were rumours of people with unusual abilities and then those people would disappear. They had operated mostly in America, Africa and India and in the poverty stricken countries of South East Asia, where there were very few questions asked when well dressed businessmen offered large amounts of money for a quiet kidnapping.
Athan was very slippery though. The PHCs didn’t have a chance most of the time because Athan’s particular ability allowed him to physically slip into people’s minds and stay there. He couldn’t read the minds though; it was more like slipping into another dimension, his body would vanish into a person and he could stand in their subconscious. This was how Athan helped the coma patients. He was able to navigate the landscape their mind had created and find their hiding places to bring them out.
The lights of Ballarat’s nightclub district started to space out as Athan marched along the sparkling footpath toward the suburbs in the south of town. The area wasn’t safe in daylight, and even less so during the late hours of the night due to rogue youths and joy riders and the occasional wandering drug addict.
The streets were deserted, for a change, the only movement being the occasional light shower of rain that coated the man’s suit jacket.
There was something else in the air. Not a smell, a feeling.
Something was changing, or about to change. Maybe even some kind of pending danger. Tonight, he thought, was a good time to see an old friend.
Athan knew he was getting close.
Brad Lewis was like Athan, one of the Post-Humans. He was gifted with being able to remember everything he read, in detail.
He was a human encyclopedia.
That was why Brad called himself Apollo, after the Greek God of light and intellect.
A long time ago they were both part of a Post-Human group called The League. Six Post-Humans that decided to use their ‘abilities’ to help humanity and hopefully cast a favorable light on their kind. It was a nice sentiment at the time, and for a while they really did do good things. But remaining under the radar of the PHC’s and not getting themselves killed became a bit more difficult over time.
Not everyone survived this period of crime fighting. Ian Land was a close friend and a founding member of the group. He was run down by a suspect’s car during a meth lab raid just north of Melbourne. Ironically his superhuman ability was that he could move with amazing bursts of speed, but the Holden VT had taken him during his weakest moment.
After the attack they discovered the whole operation was a trap crafted by PHC operatives to help cleanse the city of ‘deluded vigilantes’, at least that was what the papers said. None of The League were caught by the PHC, but PHC had kept the body of Ian Land.
This upset them all.
His family would never be told, and his friends would never be able to bury him There was no mention of that fact that these vigilantes had super human abilities, or that they had been doing good and important work to reduce crime. It was a kick in the teeth for The League.
The final kick.
Humanity would be kept in the dark by the PHC. Public awareness of Post-Humans was too risky for government and economy. Post-Humans were bad for business.
Nothing like facing your mortality to make you reconsider being a self appointed super hero. The Federal Police would spit on you before thanking you. Normal people were scared of change and the PHC would do their best to keep it that way.
So, The League disbanded and their code names were discarded so that they could try to live normal lives.
Not far now.
Fixer was not Athan’s codename back in those days. He had been known as Sleepwalker, after his ability to disappear into people’s minds and travel from one person to another like a dream. Brad had been Apollo, Ian was Whirlwind – due to his speed, Cynthia was called Deadfall, Kiranda was Furnace and Terrance was nicknamed Cal.
All their nicknames were self-given, from before they were The League. It was something Post-Humans always did. They re-named themselves after they discovered their abilities. Recognising their new selves.
It was a personal rebirth.
Down this way, I can feel it.
Athan took a side street.
After The League split there had not been much contact between the five surviving members.
Tonight, though, Athan wanted to see Brad. He had an ability that was possibly useful. If anyone had any knowledge of possible dangers, PHC or otherwise, it would be Brad.
Chapter 3
ATHAN SEARCHED FOR the peeling numbers on the gates of the old warehouses and repair yards along the street. He knew Brad Lewis resided in a warehouse somewhere in the area, but he had never visited before now.
The green fence of one looked a little out of place compared to the others with their wire and sheets of tin.
He peered over the fence.
A few old car bodies were in the front yard along with a stack of old tyres. It did not look like the home of, potentially, the smartest man alive, but then he wouldn’t expect Brad to advertise his existence.
He began to climb the lowest section of the fence he could find and jumped down from the top into the wet gravel and clumps of long grass.
There was a thump and crunch of gravel as he landed on his feet.
The sound of rumbling caught his ear and it wasn’t from the wind or rain, it was an animal.
Clever work, Brad.
Athan reached out with his mind and felt the consciousness of two other beings. German Shepherds, the usual junkyard dog of choice, and they were most likely unfriendly.
Mentally dogs were pretty weak creatures, despite what dog lovers thought, but they were an effective security system. Brad didn’t want any uninvited surprise guests.
It was easy for Athan to reach out with his thoughts and caress their minds.
The two beasts calmed and tried to go back to sleep under the car bodies where they had been staying out of the rain.
He continued to pick through the tall grass till he got to the old white tin door at the side of an old panel beaters shop.
Looking about the darkened yard he could see tiny red specs in the dark, cameras or sensors. Athan was sure that there would be some kind of tranquilizing guns hidden in automated weapons somewhere out here, but nothing fired. They knew he was here.
He knocked five times, then waited for an answer.
Nothing.
He knocked again.
Someone was inside. He was sure that he could feel Brad’s presence somewhere here.
Eventually there was the click of a lock and the squeak of old hinges.
“Hello,” a young womans voice. Athan jumped a little at the sight of a gun barrel just poking through the narrow gap.
“Hi. You don’t know me, but I’m looking for a guy named Brad. Brad Lewis. Am I at the right place?” Athan attempted a friendly smile.
The door opened wider and the young woman stepped out.
She couldn’t have been more than her early twenties, and she looked very pretty. She wore tracksuit pants and big knitted jumper. She assessed the stranger in his dripping suit and tie standing in the rain.
“Sleepwalker I presume? Where are the dogs?” she challenged, keeping the gun barrel leveled at his stomach.
Athan gestured to the other side of the yard. “Just having a sleep and staying out of this rain.”
“You put them to sleep?” She examined his face. “God, you must be a friend of Brad’s if you can hypnotize the dogs. They were the craziest ones we could get for the place. I’m Belinda. I’m with Brad.” She looked past him to the darkened street. “Were you followed?”
Athan shook his head.
“How’d you know who I was?”
“Security cameras. We were watching you from downstairs.” She sniffed in the cold air.
Athan straightened. “
He’s around then? It’s been a while, but I could do with his help,” he asked as politely as he could manage.
She raised her fine eyebrows and nodded slowly as she considered the sudden visit from the strange man.
“Yeah.” She lowered the pistol. “He’s down stairs. Follow me.”
“Nice to meet you Belinda.”
Athan followed the girl through a cluttered dusty workshop to what looked like an open trap door in the floor.
“You can never be safe enough,” she said as they began to descend a short flight of stairs. Athan knew his friend would have had at least one more fancy entrance nearby as well. He had probably read everything there was to know about bunkers, military installations, secret passages and spy craft.
“Hon! He’s here.” Belinda called across what looked like an underground FBI computer lab. It was filled with televisions, computer monitors and shelves filled with thousands of books. In the middle of the big room were a set of leather lounges and a gas heater. The televisions and computers seemed to all face inward so that they could be seen from any one of the lounge suites.
“It’s been a long time, Mr Harper,” a voice sounded from the lounge with its back to the door.
Athan chuckled at the very proper way Brad spoke. The man couldn’t help it, it came from the way he absorbed language from reading material.
“I don’t remember you having so many books. For a guy who remembers every word he reads, don’t you think that’s a counterproductive use of space?” Athan teased.
Brad Lewis sprung from his lounge and faced Athan with a smile.
“What are you doing here Sleepwalker! I thought you were staying in the country? The city is not safe my friend!” Brad gestured him over to the lounge. “As for the books…they are first editions and my favourites. I’ve become a victim of Internet shopping I’m afraid.”
He was twenty-seven, the same age as Athan, but he always spoke like an English gentleman. He had always had the same short beard and shoulder length brown hair. Brad straightened his dark blue knitted jumper. “Come sit down and get that jacket off, you are drenched.”
He asked Belinda to fetch him his dressing gown for Athan to wear while his clothes dried and she returned from one of the few rooms that adjoined the main library space carrying the fluffy blue gown.
Brad began fussing over getting his clothes dry.
“Umm, thanks Belinda.” Athan took the blue gown and slid it over his damp shirt. Brad went over to turn the heater up and take the suit jacket out to a laundry room.
Belinda was human, Athan could tell, but she must be a strong character to want to be with a Post-Human. It would mean she wouldn’t lead a normal life. Living in this bunker reflected that.
He tied up the dressing gown and looked about the room. “So, what does Brad do down here?”
“He monitors the whole world.” Belinda gestured to the monitors. “It’s not very exciting, but at least he always has something new to talk about.” She finished with a cheeky smile directed at the man who now made his way back from what must have been their laundry.
“What are you grinning at you naughty woman?” Brad said with his own little smile.
Athan inwardly cringed.
When lovers teased each other like that in front of company it was always pretty uncomfortable, and Athan had visited enough minds to know what visual imagery would be lurking behind their eyes. This was double awkward. It was like them filming their private activities then showing their friends.
It was hard work staying detached completely from human beings when, to Athan, it felt like they painted pictures of everything they felt all over their faces.
He coughed to break the tension.
Brad came over to the lounge suite and dug through a small mahogany cabinet near a television. “Scotch good for you?”
“You’re a king Brad, thank you.”
“Single malt, twelve years. Here we are.” He withdrew two small crystal glasses and a green bottle.
“If you guys are gonna have a man date I’m going back to my work.”
“Alright darling. We will be a while, don’t wait up, you have Uni in the morning.” Brad warned.
“Hmmm, I know.” She had her hands on her hips.
She gave Brad a quick kiss. “Lucky I have you to remind me,” she said sarcastically with a smile. “Good night boys. Have fun catching up.” She smiled to them both then wandered back toward the bedroom.
“She’s studying medicine, nearly finished the course too.” Brad found himself a seat and settled into it. “Well, old friend, why have you sought me out?” he asked, taking a sip of the warm scotch.
“I’ve tracked you down for a few reasons, Apollo. Firstly it’s nice to see an old buddy…”
“’Old buddy’? It has only been four years since The League disbanded. It is all very fresh in my mind.”
“Everything is fresh in your mind, Brad,” Athan said with a half smile.
“Touché, my friend.” Brad stared into space a moment, as if recollecting the hard times they had faced those four years ago. “Remember when we did that cannabis bust in the east suburbs?”
“Oh, vaguely…” Athan said, not really recalling it.
“We were all prepared, ready to get physical and we burst in there and there were six men stoned out of their brains watching the Wizard of Oz. Cal just lifted them up one by one and Kiranda tied their hands. They just stared at us like we were part of the film.”
“That’s right!” Athan laughed. “The air was so thick with the smoke that we all ended up high and bought all those packets of chips and had that conversation about whether we should have coloured leotards like comic book super heroes.” He shook his head grinning shamefully.
It was my idea.
“That was a very funny night,” Brad agreed.
“It was. But my visit is a little more serious. I’ve had this feeling… for a little while now,” Athan said cradling his drink.
Brad shook his head. “Athan, no Post-Human hunters have been anywhere near here, or indeed around the state of Victoria in many months.”
“That seems hard to believe. They don’t give up that easily,” Athan said, twisting the glass in his hand.
“No, the PHC have been a little preoccupied.” His mood became serious. “They have found something else, or rather someone else. A woman, from Indonesia. Sadly there is not a lot that I can tell you. All I know is that the PHC were following up a few anonymous reports on the east fringes of Jakarta or somewhere nearby eighteen months ago. Allegedly they found who they were looking for, then the pressure on the rest of us eased off worldwide.”
Athan raised an eyebrow. “They can’t be satisfied by just one of us. We’re all so different, at least the Post-Humans I’ve met are… Why would they stop after finding one Post-Human?”
Brad shrugged and was silent for a moment.
“It is rather foreboding Mr Harper,” Brad said gravely. “I, for one, am terrified. What kind of mutation in a Post-Human being would make an evil conglomerate organization like the PHC quit a worldwide genocide? It has always been ethnic cleansing under the pretense of research. Why would they stop hunting, Athan? It doesn’t make sense. Unless it was going to benefit them in their search somehow.”
“No, it doesn’t make sense.” Athan took a long swig of his drink and relished the burn. He felt the warmth of it course through his tired body.
Brad leaned forward. “Athan, your ability…have you seen anyone, anything that could shed light on this? Can you search that place you visit? Does it cross continents? You could jump from mind to mind till you find some answers…”
“I haven’t and I can’t,” he said as he took another drink draining the small glass.
Brad apologized. “I guess I’ve been stuck in here too long. I feel a little helpless.”
Athan reassured him that it was fine. “The plane I’m able to visit doesn’t give me any insight into the plans of those hunting us. I
can sense the minds I know when I’m inside, but I can’t get close to anyone who knows anything unless I can recognize them.”
“I know this is not The League anymore,” Brad warned, “but the dangers are potentially going to be worse for us specifically if we do not find answers. The PHC will put us down like animals if they catch us. They don’t stop looking for no reason. If they have stopped turning over every stone, it probably means that they are working on a more efficient way.” Brad took a breath and realized he was beginning to raise his voice. “I am sorry my friend. I have been dwelling on this problem for some time now, and there is no one to confide in. I feel so helpless sometimes.”
Athan shrugged. “I’m sorry too. This has been your burden for a while, obviously, and it’s my problem as much as yours.”
Brad waved him off and stood to fetch the bottle to top up their glasses.
“Brad, the place I go…it’s not just inside one person’s head. It’s more like everyone’s minds are attached to it, like the minds are doors to reach this place. And I wouldn’t even call them minds, there is no thought or memory there…”
Brad nodded. “You have said so before.”
He handed Athan a full glass and gingerly sat on the lounge again.
They did not really discuss their abilities in great detail with each other. Some of them had been quite self-conscious about their abilities, like Kiranda and Cynthia while Athan had just preferred to brush it off because it was too hard to explain.
Brad encouraged Athan to continue. “So how do you know one mind from another?”
Athan took a sip, then a deep breath. “If I know the person, or have focused on them, I can recognize their presence. When I enter a mind it feels like I step over their consciousness to reach this other place. A combined subconscious landscape that we are all connected to… except me, I think. I feel like I’m in someone’s dreamland. Then when I find a mind to exit, I do the same. But I can’t access Post-Humans, as we have found in the past.”
The Post-Humans (Book 1): The League Page 4
