The Telepathic Clans Omnibus
Page 16
“You packed it all?”
Rebecca pointed to her gym bag and a box on the floor beside the table. “There are some clean underwear and a couple of bras in there, some clean clothes, and the contents of your night stand.” Callie saw Brenna’s shoulders relax. “Your makeup, shampoo, face soap and that sort of thing is all in the box.” She looked up from her omelet, “I didn’t let the boyos in your bedroom while I was packing it. Oh, I almost forgot.”
She got up and went to where she’d dropped her coat last night and got something from the pocket, came back and handed Brenna a small metal box. “It was well-hidden, but I tried to be thorough.”
Brenna took the box, “You managed to find this?”
“Collin told me you had your jewelry with you so I didn’t have to waste time looking for it. But after I saw the place you kept it, I wondered if you might have anything else stashed. Good spot, in the rafters between the ceiling and roof in your office. I didn’t count it. Mad money? Hooking money you’re hiding from the IRS?” Rebecca shot her a teasing grin.
“Running money.”
The other two women stopped eating and looked at her.
“When I was first placed in foster care, you know how you see on TV about foster kids being abused and stuff. That never happened to me, but I wanted to be prepared if I ever needed to run. When someone would give me money for candy or lunch at school, it went in there. Even in college when I had trouble scraping rent together, at least ten dollars a month went in there.”
“How much?”
“$4,976.25.” She smiled. “I always kept the first quarter, I don’t know why.”
“And you never spent any of it?”
“No.” She buttered another muffin.
“Well, you’re full of surprises,” Callie said. “As I was saying, we’re moving your furniture to a storage locker today. Brenna, you can’t go back there. Please don’t give me an argument on this.”
Brenna shook her head. “No argument. I would never feel safe there, even if I was foolish enough to try to turn an old rental house into a fortress. But what are you going to do with me? Stick me in a storage unit? Surround me with guards? That will look great walking around campus.”
“Brenna, our thought was to engineer an accident, an automobile crash. We would put out that you’d suffered significant injuries, and after a stay in the hospital, you need long-term rehabilitation. That would allow the university to put you on disability leave, bring in a replacement for your teaching duties, and put your fellowship on hold. Remember, I was a university faculty member and know how these things work.
“After a year, if you wish, you can recover the fellowship, and whether or not Johns Hopkins takes you back, with your credentials I’m sure you can find another faculty position.”
“So let me get this straight, I’m in a car accident this weekend,” Callie nodded, “and you call the university and tell them I’m all screwed up, in the hospital, and unable to come to work. Then you tell them I’m being transferred to rehab, and I’ll get back to them when I can feed myself again and go to the bathroom without help? You do this sort of thing a lot, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Callie said. “Remember us telling you about changing identities when you get uncomfortably old for how you look?”
Brenna looked off into space. “And while all this is going on, you’re sheltering me, teaching me about my Gifts, how to use and control them, and after a year you cut me free to resume my life any way I want to. That’s what you’re offering to do for me after I was a total brat, insulted you, and you bailed me out after I killed someone?”
She searched Callie’s face. “Yes, that’s what we’re offering,” Callie smiled softly.
“Shit, you may be nuts, but I’m not. You’ve got yourself a deal.”
Callie’s face showed surprise. “Just like that? You’re going to go along with our plan?”
“Rebecca told me I need to grow up and accept the situation I’m in.” She took a deep breath. “I grew up a lot yesterday. It didn’t seem real before, but men with guns busting into your house is about as real as it gets. I about peed my pants. Other than the immediate situation, the only thought that crossed my mind, was, ‘God, am I a dumbshit. They tried to tell me.’”
She looked at Callie, at Rebecca. “I don’t want to die. I saw a man die yesterday, and he started the day thinking he was in control. I admit it, I’m out of my depth. You want me, I’m yours.”
Rebecca and Callie smiled.
“Brenna,” Callie said, “When you’re feeling up to getting out and about, Seamus would like to see you. It’s not about something pleasant. We need to interrogate the man you captured, and that involves breaking down his shields. He said something about teaching you the O’Donnell Gift. Do you understand what he’s talking about?”
“Yes. He told me that they used to teach it using live victims, and he called it a barbaric practice. But I just can’t seem to get it. He’s showed me how to set it up, how to trigger it, but I can’t make it work. I guess if he’s planning to use it anyway, this is a good time for me to learn it. If I’d known how to use it yesterday, a man might still be alive.”
~~~
Chapter 1-13
All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another. - Anatole France
They went downstairs looking for Seamus.
“We need to interrogate the man you captured. You understand that in our world, such things as civil rights have no meaning, not when we’re dealing with our enemies. We don’t use torture in the conventional sense, it’s a lousy way of getting information in any case, but we will invade his mind, totally control him, and take what we want,” Seamus told her, sitting in his study with the two young women, Collin, and Kallen, who were looking very grim.
In a quiet, sober voice, Brenna asked, “What will you do with him after you’re through with him? Is he going to be killed?”
Seamus leaned back in his chair, studying her. “And if I said yes?”
She was quiet, considering how she felt about that. “I guess I’d accept your decision, but I wouldn’t feel very good about it.” She looked up at him. “I’m new to this sort of thing. I’ve never been a soldier, never wanted to be involved in a war. The whole thing makes me sick to my stomach, but I understand they wanted to hurt me, maybe kill me. I just don’t feel very good about doing that to him.”
He leaned forward. “Actually, I’m glad you feel that way. What we’re going to do turns my stomach, too, but we’re not going to execute him. We’ll perform some very deep modifications to his memory, burn out his telepathic abilities, transport him to Austria, and turn him loose. He won’t know who he is but his cognitive abilities won’t be affected. He won’t have any Talents and won’t remember he ever did. If he has a family, he won’t remember them, his employer or anyone else he’s ever known. He can build a new life or drink himself to death, I don’t care. I only care that he’ll never be a threat to me or mine again.”
Brenna considered this, mulling it over in her mind. She turned to Rebecca, searching her face.
“It’s that or kill him, Brenna,” Rebecca said. “We can’t keep him locked up forever, and anyway, I would consider that far more cruel.” She took a deep breath. “I’m the one who’s going to do that to his mind. It’s part of my job, because of my Talents. I came to grips with it a long time ago, not without a lot of soul searching.
“It’s something that requires a construct builder. I’m not forced to do it. I’ve done it twice before, once observing while Lydia did it, and once on my own. Seamus is right, it makes me a bit sick to do it, but when I consider the alternative,” she faltered, took a moment to regain her composure.
“I couldn’t just walk up to a bound man and cut his throat. I couldn’t. Murder like that would damage my soul. But this way, he walks away healthy, he’s not an idiot, and he has th
e ability to make choices and a life for himself. It’s more than he was planning for you.”
Brenna reached out and took her hand, gave it a squeeze. They took a flight of stairs to the basement, then through a locked door, and down another flight. “You’ve got a basement this deep this close to the harbor?” Brenna asked in surprise.
“Not cheap, but your father got special rates from O’Donnell Development,” Seamus said with a slight smile. “It was built as an air raid shelter, leftover paranoia from the cold war.”
Sitting shackled to a chair in a bare room, the man she knew as Helmut glared at them defiantly when they walked in. Both his eyes were black, the left completely swollen shut, and the cheek under one eye was grossly swollen. His nose was broken, flattened and bent to that side. He breathed through his mouth.
Brenna stood in front of him and asked in German, “Why did you break into my house? Why did you want to hurt me?”
He spit at her. She searched his face for a few moments then turned to her grandfather.
How do we know he won’t attack us if you open your mind to me?
That’s a very good question, Granddaughter. Any tricks you can do with your O’Neill Gift?
I can cover both of us, but I’ll have to open the shield for you to send the spear. I might be able to do it with my shield intact, but I don’t know how. I don’t think you’ll be able to penetrate it without hurting me. She considered the problem. I think we’ll just have to depend on timing. It’s quick, right?
Very quick. I think that will probably work.
She covered them with her shield, then entered Seamus’ mind when he opened to her. She watched him trigger his Talent, watched the small howitzer shell form. This much she understood.
Ready? Now, he sent. She dropped her shield from him and watched him launch the spear into Helmut’s mind. His shields shattered like thin glass, and Seamus was in his mind, carrying her with him. Inside the ninth shield, the projectile morphed into a blanket-like hand, enveloping Helmut’s soul and taking control of his mind. Faintly, as if from a long distance, she heard him scream.
You kept telling me to launch it. I tried to launch it, shoot it, throw it, push it. What you did was flip it. I understand now.
Flip it?
What happens if you send it slow?
You would shatter the first shield, then the second, and so forth. It doesn’t hurt or shock more to do it fast, but done slowly, each shield would be a shock to his system.
What is the difference between this and the form of dominance Rebecca has?
It’s a matter of power. If you visualize her using a club, then you and I have a bazooka. She would essentially hammer each of his shields in turn, and if he was strong enough they would battle through each one. She would get to the same point but it would take longer. Now, shall we see what our friend Helmut has in his mind?
Helmut worked for a man named Siegfried von Ebersberg, and was part of a team headed by Manfred Gless, the supposed reporter from Der Spiegel. He and his partner didn’t know why they were in America and his job didn’t include questioning orders. They had been ordered to kidnap Brenna, but he didn’t know why.
The syringes they both carried contained a combination of pentobarbital and valium, intended to subdue her and make her docile. Both were fairly strong telepaths. She stared with revulsion on his soul which was a dingy gray, parts a muddy brown, and more than a dozen areas that were black. It looked like something the dog had buried in the back yard.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t sure where they might be able to find Gless, who contacted them. All they would be able to do was watch the apartment he and his partner had rented and monitor their cell phones. They had been in the Baltimore-Washington area for about three months, with occasional trips to New York. They were hunting succubi, and had already delivered one woman to Gless in DC. Seamus’ face took on a stony grimness when he found that out.
They also discovered that two other men on their team had gone out one day to follow Siobhan O’Conner, the succubus who worked for the Clan in New York, and not come back. In his mind, Brenna saw an image of the woman he thought was Siobhan. It was Rebecca.
Helmut was not a nice man. He had murdered, tortured, and raped, and so had his partner. Neither of them had a family waiting for him, no little girls who would be left without a father. Brenna felt better after finding that out. When they were finished, Seamus turned to Rebecca, who burned out his telepathic abilities using her Rivera Gift.
“How long will it take you to implant the construct?” Seamus asked Rebecca.
“It’s one I have stored, so a day to set it up, another day to trigger it and check it out, then gel it, and another day to make sure it’s set correctly. I’ll need someone else to do the QA, make sure it’s sound and I didn’t make any mistakes. Collin or Kallen usually does that.”
“We’ll set up transport for five days from now,” Collin said. “That gives us time to make sure it’s good and fix any problems.” He looked Seamus in the eyes. “She may not be very experienced, but she’s good. I don’t expect any problems.”
Seamus nodded, started to leave the room.
“Why did he think Rebecca was Siobhan?” Brenna asked.
An embarrassed silence fell over the group. Rebecca wouldn’t meet her eyes.
Seamus cleared his throat. “We’ve had several incidents since that night Jared brought you home. The succubus our buddy Helmut captured in DC wasn’t one of ours, but she was found murdered, as was another succubus in New York. Cindy identified someone who was possibly stalking her, and we ran an operation with Rebecca to ferret him out. It seems they thought she was Siobhan. They physically resemble each other, tall, pretty, with brown hair.”
“What about the guys he worked with? The ones he said disappeared?”
Rebecca spoke, “I think they’re the ones who attacked Carly and me one night. We never did understand why, but now I think we do.”
“What happened to them?”
“We killed them,” Rebecca said, her face pale. “They ran us off the road and shot at us. It happened really fast.”
Seamus reached out and placed his arm around her shoulders. He gave her a squeeze, then turned for the door.
“Brenna? Are you coming?”
“I have that Lindstrom Gift, too, don’t I?”
“Yes, you do.”
“Then I’d like to watch, if I may.” Seamus looked at Rebecca.
“Yeah, I don’t mind. The company would be nice.” She looked at Brenna, “It’s rather long and tedious work. You don’t have to stay for the whole thing. I won’t mind if you leave after a while, but you might find the first part interesting. I can call you when I trigger it and when I gel it and you’d get the whole thing.”
“Okay.”
The others left.
“There’s a lot I don’t know, isn’t there?” Brenna quietly asked.
“Brenna, there’s a silent war going on, all over the world. Not all telepaths are benevolent like the O’Donnell Clan. Some believe that telepaths are superior beings who should rule the world and treat norms like cattle. Where this fits in, I don’t know. I’m new and only know pieces of things. But now you know why they were so concerned about your safety.” She took a deep breath, “Shall we do this?”
Rebecca opened her mind and invited Brenna in. It was a fifth-level Talent. Rebecca triggered it, then went to a place on her seventh level and pulled out a tightly compressed thought pattern. This is a construct I’ve stored. I can give it to you. Lydia helped me build it and several more standard designs. We’re not going to build a construct, just take the pre-built one and set it up in his mind.
She took the thought pattern and pushed it into Helmut’s mind, down to the ninth level. She placed it on his
soul, and then she touched it in a particular place. It exploded through his mind, pushing aside his memories, his emotions, his thoughts. Once it finished expanding into all the levels of his mind, Rebecca began to syphon off the residue of his own mind and, to Brenna’s shock, purging them into nothing. Gone, not in Helmut’s mind, not in Rebecca’s.
My God. You just destroyed a man’s whole life in a matter of minutes.
Yes, Rebecca’s thought conveyed a sense of weariness. Everything he’s ever experienced, felt or thought. The memories of every woman he’s ever raped, every child he’s killed. In essence, I’ve killed the person that was Helmut Schmidt. Hopefully, the person we turn loose will be an improvement. I don’t think he could be much worse.
She systematically went through every level of his mind, checking the memories she had built, occasionally adjusting some, implanting some bit of knowledge from her own mind or removing a small bit of the construct. At one level, she destroyed part of the construct and replaced it with something completely different.
What were you doing there? Brenna asked. I’ve been able to follow most of what you’ve done, but I think I missed something there.
Rebecca turned and looked at her with a blank face and eyes that showed rage. I killed his sex drive. He won’t ever know sexual excitement or attraction. A construct can fail, and the person he is in his soul can reassert itself. I don’t want him hurting another woman or child the way he has in the past. I put in a trigger that will kill him if his soul reasserts and attempts to activate his sexual feelings again. She shrugged. There are advantages to learning this from a man-hating lesbian, a little social engineering, one soul at a time.
You’re a hard woman, Rebecca Healy.
The attention to detail that went into the construct was intense. Brenna followed Rebecca into every part of the man’s mind, saw her check every detail, every memory, every emotional set. She felt as though they were putting together a million-piece jigsaw puzzle.