Strangers In Boston: Tales from a Strange World Book 1 (The Strange World Series)

by T. S. Mann

  “Shit!” Bryce exclaimed. He rushed over to Matt who was already beginning to stir. He looked woozy, but otherwise undamaged. “Are you okay, Matt? Why the hell did you let go like that?”

  “Noise. Startled me.” he coughed. Bryce helped him to his feet.

  “Oh for pity’s sake! The safety features for the room weren’t turned on! Doc will have my ass if I accidentally kill you in a training exercise. Seriously, you okay?”

  “Yeah,” he shook his head and looked up at the rafter high above. Then, he turned back to Bryce. “How am I not dead?”

  Bryce stepped back and looked at him. Then, he held up his hands to touch the tips of each index finger and thumb together forming a crude rectangle, which he held in front of Matt like a view screen.

  “Well, you have a kinetic shield up, although it’s nearly gone now. The bad thing about most shield spells is that they prevent actual damage, but usually, you’ll still feel the psychological effects of pain for a while. So, you can fall sixty feet and just get the wind knocked out of you. Still, you did succeed in scaring me half to death, so maybe we should take a break.”

  Matt nodded and followed behind as Bryce headed out of the gym. Across the hall was a small break room with tables, chairs and an odd-looking vending machine. It was mostly white, with a large red hand-print in its center and a black receptacle below. Bryce placed his hand over the mark and loudly said,

  “Peanuts, unsalted. And a Cherry Coke. What do you want, Matt?”

  “What does it have?”

  “Every kind of prepackaged snack food and soft drink that's currently marketed anywhere in the world.”

  “Get out!” the boy exclaimed.

  Bryce just smirked at him proudly. He’d personally designed and built this artifact for the College years earlier and it was still in use. Matt thought for a second and then said, “Red Bull. And a package of Ho-Ho’s.”

  Bryce repeated the request, and after a few seconds, there was an audible ding followed by the requested items falling through an opening into the receptacle. The two Strangers collected their snacks and sat at a table.

  “So, how are you feeling?” Bryce asked nonchalantly. “Not too shaken up from the fall.”

  “Nah. I’m fine. But, I thought you said nothing in there could hurt me.”

  “I said magic couldn’t hurt you. Gravity isn’t magic. It was your idea to jump all the way to the ceiling and then let yourself fall back down. And yeah, if you hadn’t been shielded and wearing the jersey, you might have broken your neck, so watch it.”

  “Got it.” He popped open the Red Bull and took a swig. “I thought you were supposed to explain hex magic to me, not shoot lightning at my face.”

  “Eh. Personally, I learn by doing. Also, my fiction cloak requires it.” Matt looked at him questioningly. “A fiction cloak is a sort of magical fake ID. In my case, it causes students and faculty at MIT to accept that I am an established and well-liked member of the student body and someone they trust to talk to about weird things they notice.”

  “But the trade-off is that there are things I have to do to 'stay in character' so to speak. Specifically, things you might associate with a slightly douchey frat-boy. Among other things, I need to drink lots of cheap beer, and I can never turn down the chance to haze a new subordinate in some minor way.”

  “Well, if the hazing is over, maybe you can actually explain stuff to me like a regular person?” said Matt.

  “All-right, how’s this for an explanation. A hex is an attack spell. Period. If you cast a spell on someone that knocks them out or paralyzes them, impairs them significantly, hurts them in any way, or kills them outright, it’s a hex. Looks to me like you’ve got the hang of it, or at least you do with kinetic hexes. Curses are spells with an extended duration that can negatively affect the target. They’re considered hexes if they inflict actual damage during their duration. Jinxes are hexes that hurt people indirectly, either by mentally influencing them into hurting themselves or by causing them to have bad luck. A hex cast with the clear intent to kill is called a death hex, or sometimes a death curse if it kills slowly.”

  “What other Axioms do you use to hex people?”

  “Any of them, though some of them are usually only situationally appropriate and you have to be clever to find a use for them. Generally, you need to be a third-level initiate with a Axiom to even try to hex somebody, but if you’re really pissed off or really hate the person you’re attacking, you can do it at lower levels.

  “In fact, that’s one of the things we go by to determine what level of magical awareness you have. At the lower levels of insight, it’s usually impossible for you to hurt someone with magic at all. At the third level, you can stun people or knock them out. You have to reach the fourth level – adept status – to intentionally kill someone else with magic.

  “So, the real question is whether you can focus on the Axiom while forming the requisite intent. If you’re a Level 3 Kinetic (and we can test you on that later), you might have been able to knock me out with your little basketball trick – very clever, by the way – but you probably couldn’t have killed me with it or really even seriously hurt me unless you were a Level 4.”

  Matt was silent for a moment. “So, in other words, if I face Lindsay again, I wouldn’t really be able to hurt her. I could just sort of ... slap her around a bit until she got serious and ripped me apart.”

  Bryce nodded sagely.

  “Okay, first of all, you’re not facing Lindsay at all. Leave that to us. And second, sorry, but yeah, I don’t think you’re ready to do serious damage and I’m sure you’re not ready for killing magic. I don’t know how close you are to fourth-level with the Paragon. Most of us rise fastest with our primary Axiom, but honestly, it’s impressive that you got to third-level as fast as you did.”

  “What if I ... got creative? Used kinetic magic to push her while she was at the edge of a cliff or something?”

  “Wouldn’t work. Intent is what matters when it comes to hexes. Generally, until you’re an adept, any spell you cast with the intent to inflict serious, life-threatening damage will fail automatically. Maybe if you develop a fanatical hatred for her, you can fudge that, but probably not.

  “Now, I will say this: that only applies to your magic. If you nail Lindsay with a stunning hex, nothing stops you from walking up while she’s out and hitting her with a brick. Well, nothing other than the fact that she’s probably shielded to hell and back, so if you do stun her, make sure you use empyreal magic to wipe her shields. Then, hit her with a brick.”

  “You can undo other people’s shields?”

  “Well, you can, anyway. I’m not attuned that high with the Paragon, but I’m pretty sure you are. Empyreal magic is about making things the way that should be. All magic is a violation of the natural order, so with empyreal magic, you can unmake any spell you come across. Well, if you put enough work and juice into it. More powerful Strangers produce more powerful spells which are harder to unmake, but the same principle applies.”

  Matt absorbed that, running strategies through his head for undermining his enemies’ defenses in the middle of a fight. Then, somewhat abruptly, he decided to change the subject.

  “So how much do you know about Lindsay, anyway?”

  Bryce sipped at his Coke, wondering how much to answer. Doc hadn’t mentioned anything about keeping him ignorant on that topic and he supposed that anything the kid learned about his enemy could only be helpful.

  “Lindsay and Electra were friends until a few years ago. See, originally, Lindsay didn’t start out as a nephilim. She and Electra were both in the Unity Blade together. Then, about three years ago, some other nephilim came to town to ... do some bad chaos shit.”

  “Bad chaos shit?”

  “Yes, I’m being purposefully vague. We make it a habit of being vague when we talk about bad chaos shit, mainly because knowing too much about bad chaos shit makes you more likely to become bad chaos shit.

&nb
sp; “Anyway, a lot of people got killed, Lindsay fell, and Electra quit the Church to join us. There’s a bit more to it, but I try to avoid gossiping about Little Miss Shoots-A-Lot behind her back, so you’ll have to get the rest from her. Or just forget that part of it entirely if you know what’s good for you.”

  “Hmm. Three years ago? So, I guess you were about my age when it happened?”

  Bryce hesitated for a moment and then decided to take the plunge. “Actually, Matt, I’ll turn fifty-six next year.”

  The boy laughed. “Yeah, whatever.”

  “No, really. I had my Insight in 1970 when I was a freshman in college. I awoke as a psychomancer but almost immediately developed a secondary attunement to the Biotic Axiom. Once you develop any aptitude for biotic magic, aging stops being an inevitability and instead becomes a lifestyle choice.”

  “So, what, we’re Highlander-wizards? How old is Doc?”

  “Well, honestly, I don’t know exactly, but I do know he was already an experienced Stranger during World War II. I also know that before that crap with Lindsay went down, he could pass for thirty.”

  “What happened? Did the nephilim age him or something?”

  “No. Life did.”

  Bryce looked away for a moment as he wondered whether he should say what was on his mind. Then he remembered that he rarely felt he could tell anyone what was on his mind nowadays and decided to seize the chance to do so now.

  “With magic, you’re literally as young as you feel, but the downside is that when you start to feel old, you look it. Major life changes – marriage, kids, the death of friends or loved ones – they can age you spiritually, and once you age spiritually, it gets harder to stay young physically no matter how good your magic is.”

  “Three years ago, Doc saw … something that aged him thirty years in a day. After over a century of living, he’s finally starting to feel old and, as a result, look old.”

  Matt thought back to what Doc had said earlier that morning, about earning his bad back by living a long life. Now, he saw a different meaning in those words.

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  Bryce shrugged. “Because the Invisible College is an insular society of magical nerds, some of whom are backstabbers and malcontents, and if I talked to somebody in the College, it might get used against me, Doc or both of us. Because Doc’s been like a father to me and it pains me to think about him withering away. Mainly, because sometimes it’s easier to talk to a perfect stranger. No pun intended.”

  And with that, Bryce crunched up his drink can and tossed it into a nearby bin. “So now that I’m done angsting, maybe we can get back to sparring.”

  Matt spoke up, somewhat nervously. “Actually, if it’s okay with you ... I think I’ve got the hang of hexes already, and I was wondering: What do you know about psychic magic?”

  In the beat of silence that hung in the air, Bryce was sure Matt could hear the thought that echoed through his mind.

  “Shit.”

  CHAPTER 9:

  CONVERSATIONS AMONG STRANGERS

  The Invisible College

  The Panopticon

  “You sound horrible,” said Widget without even a glance in Doc’s direction. He smiled wanly.

  “I haven’t said anything yet.”

  “No, but I can hear negative energy in your walk.” She finally turned from the big screen to face her mentor and the leader of her order. “And your aura looks even worse. It’s all ... splotchy. What have you been doing to yourself?”

  “Can we not do this now, Widget? I have a lot going on.”

  “I know, and you’re not going to handle any of it properly if you don’t take care of yourself. Now sit!”

  Widget rose from the couch, took Doc by the arm and practical pushed him to take a seat. Then, she walked behind the couch and placed her fingertips on the old man’s temples. She muttered a few words in Latin before closing her eyes to examine the state of his soul.

  “Ah, well that explains it. Did you know that some idiot has partitioned your mind eight different ways? Who could have possibly done something so stupid?”

  “Very funny.”

  “Your brain is in overdrive!" she snapped irritably. "It’s a wonder you can still tie your own shoes. Why are you doing this to yourself?”

  He turned and looked over his shoulder at her. “You know why. I’m ... tired. Tired of magical politics and mundane trivia. I want to leave all this behind for ... something new.”

  “Well, you’re not going to get there if Lindsay unleashes the zombie apocalypse or turns the sky to acid or does whatever insanity she has cooking. We need you.”

  “I’m not going anywhere, Widget, at least not right now.”

  Somewhat mollified, Widget came around the sofa and sat next to her mentor and friend.

  “Now, tell me about what happened before I arrived,” he asked.

  She shrugged. “We tried a standard sympathetic scrying spell on the coat. The dummy we used got possessed by some bit of ambient chaos magic and attacked me. Electra took it down before it could get very far. Bryce is supposed to be studying the coat now.”

  “No, I took him off that. He’s training with Matt.”

  “You brought him here? Why?”

  “Because I wanted to consult with you, but I couldn’t leave him alone. More importantly, because he saw through the veil over my portal without any prompting from me and he unlocked it on his own. So now, I have Bryce teaching him elementary combat to distract him before he develops any farther. I’m worried that he’ll figure out I enchanted him to keep him under control.”

  “You should be," she snapped. "After what happened with Electra, you ought to think twice before you go mucking around with other people’s heads like that.”

  “Everyone keeps saying that. All things considered, that didn’t turn out so bad.”

  Widget looked at him sharply, astonished at his remark. “Say ‘orgone energy’!”

  He gave her a foul look. As she knew perfectly well, he was incapable of saying the Invisible College’s preferred name for juice (which he himself had coined decades earlier in the revolutionary paper that established his reputation within the order) without suffering the effects of a debilitating curse.

  “Yes, yes. Electra got me good in a duel and could have claimed a lot worse as a victory condition than to prank me with a minor oath. I still say I did what I had to do.”

  “Do you really mean that? Or is it the Bodhisattva talking?”

  He jumped up off the couch. “Don’t start that again! You sound like a Unity priest!”

  “Be that as it may, you currently have seven-eighths of your brain devoted to meditating on the deeper mysteries of the psychic magic, and the remaining one-eighth continually rationalizes your reliance on mind control spells. And you don’t see any connection?”

  Doc ignored that. “Look, it’s only until his father gets here. Then, I promise I’ll start dispelling all the mind effects I have on him.”

  “Yeah, about that. I must confess I'm not entirely reassured that your plan depends a wanted criminal violating the terms of his banishment.”

  “Widget ....” He paused and put up a hand to silence the other Stranger. He raised his other hand and put two fingers to his temple. “Yes, what is it, Bryce?”

  Widget shook her head and returned to the main computer screen while Doc took the telepathic call.

  “Hey Doc, your boy wants to learn psychic magic. He says you want him to start reviewing his memories for a clue about where Lindsay is.”

  Doc rubbed his eyes tiredly. “Actually, that might be a good way to keep him occupied. Start teaching him a meditation ritual and keep him busy for a bit. I’ll be there when I can.”

  Back in the gym...

  Matt watched Bryce with a bemused expression. “Are you talking to Doc? Is that telepathy or something?”

  Bryce’s eyes widened. “Um, yeah. Could you hear us?”

  “No, but you had you
r eyes closed and two fingers up to your head, and I’ve read comic books. Can I do telepathy too?”

  “Probably, someday. You need a very high psychic attunement to use telepathy at a distance though. Doc’s the only person I know who can communicate from beyond line-of-sight. Luckily, this place is magically wired for it, so if you know the right thoughts to think, you can talk mentally to anyone in the building. Saves on the phone bill.”

  “Wait a minute. Anyone in the building can read anybody else’s thoughts?”

  “Not personal thoughts – this just lets you plug the speech and hearing centers of your brain into a network. Then, whatever you want to say to somebody gets fed into the network without you having speak out loud, and the other person will hear it if they’re anywhere in the building. Doc will have to get you plugged into the network. It’s not hard, but the magic is set up so that Doc has to personally authorize new additions. It’s a security measure, like a firewall to keep out hackers.”

  With that, Bryce kicked off his shoes, sat down on the floor and pulled his legs up into a lotus position.

  “And speaking of Doc, he’s busy right now, but he says to start you on a little meditative ritual, so let’s get to it.”

  Ten minutes later, Doc returned to the gym to find both Bryce and Matt sitting in lotus positions, a rather uncomfortable-looking one in Matt’s case. Doc was carrying a small felt bag which he tossed to Matt.

  “You’ll forgive me if I don’t join you in a yoga position. My back still recovering from this morning. Open it up.”

  Matt opened the bag and pulled out a blue crystal about the size of a chicken egg. “Crystals, Doc? Are you going all New Age on me? What do I do with this?”

  “Feed it a little juice for a start,” Doc replied.

  Matt willed some of his magic into the crystal, and immediately, all of three of them could hear the faint sounds of dissonant wind chimes. Matt looked up at Doc in confusion.

  “Those sounds you hear are representations of your thoughts. Not your actual thoughts, just representations of each new idea as it runs through your head. You see, most people think constantly, whether they realize it or not. Their heads are churning masses of ideas and impulses. If you want to be able to study your own memories with perfect clarity and detachment, the first step is to clear your mind of all extraneous thought.