by Jeremy Flagg
“Mr. Paulito, is it?”
The room froze. Jacob held the majority share of the company, but it was rare he got involved in the daily activities. The only time the board dared to call him was when something needed to be fixed. He had become known as the man with the golden touch, and every time he intercepted a problem, somehow, resolutions were made. Only one man at the table understood how Jacob obtained his resolutions.
“Yes, sir.”
Jacob stood and walked toward the man. “I can read a person, and I think you have something that will help make this board a lot of money.”
Paulito squirmed in his seat, then froze as Jacob’s hand rested on his shoulder. Jacob’s temper was legendary, and frequently he would fly off the handle. The edge of the table remained broken in the spot where he had brought down his fist hard enough to shatter it. It served as a reminder who they shared this pedestal with.
Jacob saw a wash of memories play out as if he was watching a film in a small, dark room. He saw the divorce of Mr. Paulito’s parents, and the messy way his mom walked out on him, leaving him to fend for himself with an abusive father. He could almost feel the blows as the dad wailed on the kid, taking out his anger with his fists. The film sped up until Paulito held a rifle, walking through the desert with his unit on the way to overtake a crime lord in the Middle East. It jumped forward to the graduation where he spoke as the valedictorian of his class. Jacob tried to pull his hand away, but found the intrusion as addicting as any drug.
Let them wash over you, this man can hide nothing from you.
Jacob opened the floodgates and in a fraction of a second, he watched the entire life story play out. He pulled his hand back and saw the rest of the board waiting in anticipation for the man to speak.
Mr. Paulito cleared his throat, but Jacob whispered a single word. “Silence.”
His ability to control others had limitations. He struggled to force even a single person’s will into submission. These limitations were discussed openly by Salvador, who wanted to remind Jacob of his insignificance.
With a single word, something changed. He no longer cared about Mr. Paulito and his worthless life accomplishments.
“Sit,” he said. The man sat down and nobody moved to open their mouths. He had no doubt these newfound abilities would let him wipe their memories of him ever being present. He walked toward the man with the white lapel, the only person whose eyes seemed to follow him.
“Call my car. I have Society business to attend to.”
“Yes, sir,” the man responded.
“Prepare for a council meeting. There are about to be some serious changes taking place.”
The man’s eyebrows rose, asking the question he didn’t dare to. Jacob gave a slight laugh. He would normally yell, threaten, and even wail on the man for questioning his motives. Instead he gave him a slight smile. “I think we finally have the means to take what’s ours.”
The man nodded, tense as he waited for the aggression.
The walk through the building surprised him as nobody took notice of his presence. Typically they would scatter, or bend over backward to pay him compliments, terrified of his wrath. For the moment, not only did he go unnoticed, as he walked, it appeared as if people unknowingly stepped aside for him. When Jacob stood at the elevator, the doors opened but nobody made a move to enter alongside him, instead waiting for one of the other dozen lifts.
He took a moment to stare up the one hundred and twenty story building. It stood as one of the largest structures in all of New York City and it belonged to him. Housing classified secrets capable of toppling the government or sending foreign countries into war, he held an uncanny power in one location. Between the scientific discoveries inside and the sheer political power, he finally started to see what could be done.
For years he had been satiated, willing to reap the benefits of being a benefactor to one of the largest corporations in the world. He had the President of the United States in his pocket and her need for war only furthered his finances. However, he was beginning to feel that being wealthy might not be enough. There was something more, a new challenge beginning to emerge in the back of his head.
A valet opened the door to a town car and they drove away from the building. It was a light mental suggestion that started the driver in that direction. Jacob stared out the window and was amazed by people caught up in their everyday lives. They walked to jobs they hated and stood at food carts poisoning their bodies. He heard each and every one of them hiding behind lies, going through the motions, afraid to break out of the shackles forced on them by society.
They are nothing more than lambs for the slaughter.
The whisper in the back of his mind knew his thoughts; more than that, it knew his desires. He wondered how many of the people lining those streets fathomed the war being waged on American soil this very moment. He assumed they kept to their routine out of fear, worried that if they dwelled on the happenings only a few states away, dread would consume them.
The car stopped at his brownstone and he exited the vehicle, walking up nine steps leading to the main entry. A servant opened the doors for him and gave a slight bow as he passed by. There had been a time the grandeur of the foyer shocked him, along with the double winding staircase leading to the second story, but now it had become another symbol of his status. He had known poverty most of his young life, and with the Society, he had experienced riches beyond what a starving child could fathom.
The double staircase from the first floor led to a solitary staircase taking him to the third floor. He walked down the hallway toward his study, slowing as he heard the whispers of voices in his head. It was rare he heard the thoughts of other mentalist; something about their abilities making them immune to his intrusions. Now, as his confidence continued to build, he knew without a doubt that if he focused, they’d be an open book.
Meet me in the study.
The hallways on the third floor continued the grandeur of the lower two levels. The dark hardwood floors led to light gray walls where lantern-shaped sconces hung, preserving some of the qualities of the original brownstone. It wasn’t particularly his style, but Lily had overseen the decoration of their acquisition, the largest collection of row houses turned into a single structure in the city. They had made the front page of the paper and to help mitigate the media’s attention, she had done her best to preserve the charm of the original building. When they finished the construction, a banquet was held inviting the most prominent members of society to take in their home. It had been photographed for nearly every renovation magazine on the Eastern Seaboard and finally, they had been able to finish the third floor, the private quarters, a place only Society members were permitted.
He veered right, pushing through a solid oak door. Inside he breathed deeply, the scent of books filling his nostrils. There had been a time in his youth where he hid inside the walls of the library, terrified to go home. The smell of first volumes and rare texts excited his mind in a way few things could. He poured himself two fingers of Scotch and sipped deeply, letting the amber liquid warm his insides.
Lily and Salvador entered his study; the looks on both of their faces presented mild annoyance. He knew they disliked being summoned, but he would need their support if he was going to move forward at the council meeting.
“What do you want, Jacob?”
Jacob paused before replying, hearing stray thoughts escaping the Salvador’s head. He knew the man didn’t like him; they had never gotten along. If the opportunity presented itself, Salvador would be the first to stab him in the back. His rival’s telepathy was different than his own. Jacob’s abilities catered to mindreading and manipulation. while Salvador had a knack for possessing humans.
“I think it’s time the Society takes a more active role in this civil war.”
The perfectly sculpted eyebrow above Lily’s right eye rose in curiosity. It was Salvador’s shaking head that showed him where his biggest opposition would lie. “The
Society has survived this long by manipulating from the shadows. You want to make us public? A target? What more could we achieve? We already have the most powerful person in the world in our corner.”
“The most powerful person in the world conspired with a mentalist in an attempt to remove us from the equation.”
While the shock registered on their faces, he did his best to hide his amusement. He suspected something amiss with Cecilia, that she had her own agenda. He couldn’t imagine she would ever do something to threaten her relationship with the Society. After manipulating Congress into amending the Constitution to let her stay in power, her every success was built on the work of their organization.
“How do you know that?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Jacob said. “Cecilia is growing unstable in this war. It’s time we step in and make some decisions for her.”
“Where are you getting this information from?” Salvador wasn’t going to back down from the question. Jacob couldn’t fault him. If they were going to participate in a war, there should be sound reasoning behind his decisions.
The push required little effort. A minor nudge at the barriers keeping their thoughts guarded. He slid around their defenses and he pulled from a memory, one he wasn’t aware he had. The president stood across the desk from the Warden. The bulky man reclined in his seat, listening as she laid out exactly what his duties were.
“A change in your appearance hasn’t changed your mission. I want you to figure out what gives them their abilities. I want to know what makes them tick.”
“You want to discover how they can be used as weapons.”
“They are weapons. I want you to learn how to make them an army.”
The man nodded.
Jacob came out of the memory and grinned at the shock written across their faces. He couldn’t figure if they were surprised at the betrayal of their most valuable asset or his ability to inject his thoughts into their minds. He hoped Salvador felt violated, knowing that his thoughts weren’t nearly as sacred as he believed.
“How did you…”
Lily cut him off. “It proves Cecilia acted in her own best interest. But how do you know she was preparing to turn on us?”
Dikeledi stepped from around the corner, skulking into the room. Her eyes went wide the moment she saw Jacob. She didn’t seem shocked, or even unnerved by him. He disliked empaths, their abilities to see beyond simple thoughts and break into the underlying meaning of a person’s actions. She was especially good at translating the energy she read from people. Much like his, her abilities didn’t come built with an off switch. The woman endured a constant assault of emotions from those around her expending most of her talents to keep them at bay.
“Jacob, you carry more than just a few memories?”
He nodded, deciding against lying to the one woman with the ability to taste his intents. She gave a sly smile, showing her canine teeth. “You have seen the man, truly seen him. You carry his memories.”
“Whose memories?” asked Salvador.
“The Warden,” Lily whispered.
“How?” asked Salvador.
Jacob shrugged. “It was a moment of opportunity. I can’t explain it, but I’m certain Cecilia is only our ally in name. The moment she’s capable of fighting a war on two fronts, she will make sure we’re removed from this equation.”
“No,” Salvador said sternly. “You put our biggest ally in jeopardy and Genesis Division will stand to lose billions in military contracts.”
“Or Genesis Division will stand to be the sole military provider on the Eastern Seaboard. Without us, she’d lose this fight. No synthetics, mechs, or technology to her support her reign. She’d falter and fall in no time.”
“You’d let the Free States take over the government?”
Jacob smiled. There was a moment when everybody in the room understood that his plan was less about subtlety and subterfuge and more about emerging as a world power unto himself. Salvador was the only person to shake their head in response.
“Fuck no,” he said. “You threaten Genesis, you threaten the Society, and quite frankly, I’d like to not get shot due to your hubris.”
Dikeledi’s smile spread across her face as she became intoxicated by the surge of emotions. At first Jacob assumed she was receiving the anxiety or worry Salvador was radiating. She caught his eye and he smiled back. He understood she wasn’t sensing anything more than the confidence permeating every cell of his being. He would have to ask her if strong emotions were euphoric or if she just got off on his cocky attitude.
“You have no say in the matter, Salvador,” Jacob said.
“Like hell I don’t,” he spat back. He turned to the women, gesturing wildly toward them. “They get a vote in this matter. And it’s three against one.”
“Two against two,” Dikeledi said, standing next to Jacob.
“Lily?” he asked.
He tried to read the expressions across her face. She had no problem being an upstart, but she would only take the bait if she knew it was a sure thing. Lily was many things, but foolish was not one of them. She had risen to power by exploiting her relationship with Jacob, and he had no problem reminding her when necessary.
“No,” she said. “It’s a risk I’m not sure we’d win.”
“It’s a tie,” Salvador said quickly. “Defeated.”
“I challenge the tie,” Jacob said firmly.
“I’ll kill you,” Salvador said. “I have let you sit at the head of this table for long enough, Jacob. What you propose threatens a dynasty older than all of us combined.”
“I challenge you,” Jacob said again.
“You know I’m stronger. It can only end one way, Jacob. I offer you a chance to stand down.”
Lily’s eyes pleaded for Jacob to accept the offer. She had never been a fan of Salvador. Jacob hoped otherwise, but predicted she would side with his nemesis, leaving him a formal challenge. He hoped Salvador would accept. It would be his chance to show the man who was strongest. When the man submitted, he’d have a broken plaything to keep at his side.
They didn’t move, their bodies remaining stationary in the study. Their minds were on a dark landscape. Somewhere off in the distance, lights twinkled, possibly stars or even the lights of a distant city. Each of them wore their white ceremonial garb. The ladies wore gowns seemingly taken from the 1920s, while he and Salvador wore tailored three piece suits. Once upon a time, when mentalists were plentiful, this served as a method for them to duel and strut their stuff, showing their abilities to one another. Now, it provided a ring for battles of the mind and to settle scores.
Salvador crossed his arms, waiting for Jacob to make the first move. The man’s body seemed to vibrate to the point where there were no hard edges outlining him. Jacob had seen him fight, and it would only be a moment before a rush of those vibrating images stepped closer, hurling Salvador into Jacob’s mind.
Jacob lunged forward, his hands in front. The fingers elongated until claws replaced his human limbs. The Latin man caught his wrists with ease and the two of them stood face to face. Jacob pushed, face blurring until it washed around Salvador. His telepathy pounded on the walls the man had erected to prevent Jacob from eavesdropping. Jacob’s avatar turned to mist, surrounding Salvador, looking for any spot to seep through his armor.
“Good luck,” Salvador said with a laugh.
He reached into the mist and ripped his arm back, and in the blink of an eye he held Jacob by the throat. He leaned in close, a faint image of him stepping outside of himself and into Jacob. The man possessed him like a mundane human. He tried to push back but there was little chance he’d be able to do anything other than prolong his demise.
The echo of the man settled onto Jacob, consuming his form. He could hear Salvador’s laughter and for a moment he thought challenging him had been a mistake. Jacob pushed hard, shoving back with enough force that the image of Salvador was knocked to the ground.
“How the hell did you
do that?”
He had never been able to push Salvador away. The man could take control of any of their bodies and frequently reminded them of this. Salvador might not access their minds like Jacob could, but he could make them a prison in their own flesh.
The darkness started to surge forward, wrapping itself around Jacob. He held out his arms, letting black wisps of smoke roll around his hand, until the white suit all but vanished. For a moment, it appeared as if a larger, more menacing figure stood about Jacob, hugging his back. Jacob let the tendrils touch his skin and the moment he made contact, he understood strength as it coursed through his veins. The devil he partnered with upheld his end of the deal and as he breathed in the smoke, he heard Salvador’s thoughts.
“Why are you terrified?” Jacob asked. His voice had deepened and it sounded as if it came from everywhere at once.
“Who are you?”
Jacob smiled. The power touching every fiber of his being was so strong he found himself almost giddy at the possibilities. With the blink of an eye he stood in the study again. Salvador’s expression in person held an even more amusing quality. He wanted to see the man’s eyes with his own as he submitted.
“Do you yield?”
It appeared as if ghosts sprung from Salvador, transparent images of him moving in every direction. They swatted at Jacob, trying to push him backward. One of the faint images tried to jump into Jacob and with a simple thought, Jacob watched it tear itself to shreds. He had an accurate understanding of Salvador’s abilities, but he hadn’t given the man much credit when it came to fighting to the end.
“Yield, Salvador.”
The man prepared to try another attack with his telepathy. Jacob eyed Lily and reached out with his hand, pointing at her. She responding by raising her own hands and without so much as a word, she hurled Salvador against a bookcase.
