Live and Let Psi

by D. R. Rosensteel

  Erica Jasmine raised her hand. It was her little sister, Christie, that Dr. Captious had rescued.

  “Yes, Miss Jasmine. Tell me, how is your sister?”

  Erica smiled. “She’s doing well, thanks to you, Dr. Captious.”

  “Excellent.” Dr. Captious pursed his lips. “And what question does this riddle raise in your mind, young lady?”

  “Well, for one thing,” Erica began, “what violence has been stopped?”

  “Tut, tut, tut,” Dr. Captious said, wiggling his finger at Erica. “Withdrawn, not stopped. One must assume that the violence being referenced will resume at some point.”

  “What happened to the dead mentor?” Kathryn asked.

  “He died,” Dr. Captious snipped. “Please, class, I am looking for the un-obvious—what wonderment is generated, not from the words of the riddle, but from the very fact that it exists? A more fundamental question.”

  I raised my hand. “Who gave you the rose?”

  Dr. Captious clapped his hands violently. “Bravo, Miss Noelle, bravo! That, indeed, is the proper question. Fifty points to Gryffindor!”

  Kathryn whispered to me, “Way to go, Hermione.”

  “And so, class, I pose the only question on the quiz.” Dr. Captious folded his hands across his ample belly. “For one hundred points, who gave me this rose?”

  Whatsisface raised his hand. “Dr. Captious, I don’t see what this has to do with algebra.”

  “Algebra is a mind-opening method for solving problems. To help you understand how I use it, let me pose an additional question. Are you teaching this class, or am I?”

  “Well… You are.”

  “And do you have two doctorates, or do I?”

  “You do.”

  “Tell me then, are you qualified to design test questions appropriate to the intent of this class, or would that be me?”

  “Umm…”

  “Exactly. Now, let me pose the question once again. For one hundred points, who gave me this rose?”

  The class was silent.

  “No rumors?” Dr. Captious asked. “No innuendos? No sightings? Let me make it easy. The rose was delivered to my desk this morning before I arrived, with a note containing the riddle which I copied onto the board in the form of a pop quiz. Did any of you see a person, place, or thing, a noun of any sort, enter my classroom? Yes or no. Let’s begin with Miss Hollisburg.”

  “No nouns that I know,” Kathryn said, slowly shaking her head.

  Dr. Captious stepped forward and pointed to the next person. “You. Yes or no?”

  Dr. Captious asked the same question to everyone in the room, and they all had the same answer. None of them had a clue where the mysterious rose came from. But I did. Nicolaitan had chosen his next victim. He must have known that Dr. Captious had ties to the police force.

  “No one has seen strange comings and goings from my classroom,” Dr. Captious said as he placed the rose delicately on his desk. All of a sudden, he stumbled and caught himself. He leaned on the desk with one hand and grimaced as though he was in terrible pain. Using both hands to support himself, he worked his way around the desk to sit down. He eased himself into his chair, took a deep breath, and said, “How odd that a rose should show up on my desk without a witness. What is the meaning of a riddle with no answer?”

  “Are you okay?” I said.

  Dr. Captious looked up from his desk, his eyes fixed on mine. I was certain I saw fear in them. Our relationship had changed recently. I didn’t find him to be nearly as annoying as I used to. I’d seen a different side of him the night he confessed to me that his life was in danger because he saved Christie Jasmine.

  “Just an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese, a fragment of an underdone potato,” he said.

  Dr. Captious was trying to tell me something. He had just quoted Scrooge, but I had no idea why.

  “Mr. Draudimon,” Dr. Captious said, pulling himself to his feet. “I would like you to lead the class in the exercise on page three hundred forty-nine. I have something to attend to.”

  Mason’s eyes popped wide, but he nodded and came to the front of the room, opening his book. “Exponentiation,” he said as Dr. Captious left the classroom. “Page three hundred forty-nine.”

  After class, Mason, Kathryn, and I walked out of the room together. “I hope Cappy’s okay,” Kathryn said. “He didn’t look so hot.”

  “What was with the Christmas Carol line?” I asked.

  “He always shoots out obscure things,” Mason said. “He’s a pro in the classics.”

  “Dr. Captious quoted Scrooge when Marley asked him why he doubted his senses,” Kathryn said. “What did he mean by it?”

  Mason shook his head. “I’d say he’s telling us not to doubt our senses. So what do our senses tell us?”

  “That high school is wackier than a Dickens story,” I said. “I’ll meet you in a minute. I have something to do.”

  “Always on the move,” Mason said.

  “You know it.” I headed for the other side of the school, where I hoped to track down Andy. I had to tell him about the riddle.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The Red Team

  “Don’t you have to be in class?” a voice said as I passed the gym doors. Standing in the entrance in all his glory was Andy, wielding a broom and that awful wig that made him a good foot taller. He reached out and pulled me into the gym.

  “Who are you supposed to be?”

  “Alfred, the but— I mean, janitor,” Andy said, holding out his hand to shake.

  “Yeah, you’re a butt, all right. Did you just come from your Impersonators Anonymous meeting?”

  “You need some training in the social graces,” Andy said, withdrawing his hand. “It’s a commonly accepted practice to shake the hand that is offered to you.”

  “Around here, it’s customary to bite it. I repeat, why are you dressed like that?”

  Andy’s eyes popped wide open. “Does this wig make me look fat?”

  “No, it makes you look like a music industry reject. Why are you here?”

  “I have a conundrum.”

  “You are a conundrum.”

  “I assume you tracked me down for a reason,” Andy said.

  I nodded. “We got another riddle.”

  “Do tell.”

  I told Andy what had happened in Dr. Captious’s class.

  “‘The Danse will go on,’” Andy said. “Obviously a threat that Nicolaitan will continue to kill. ‘His mentor’s dead’ is a reference to the next victim.”

  “But whose mentor? Oh, no. He means—”

  “Mason,” Andy said, crossing his arms. “But Mason had two mentors, Captious and Miliron.”

  “Dr. Captious got the rose. Does that mean he’s the target?”

  Andy stared thoughtfully at the ceiling. “A rose is a sign of love. It could mean that he’s safe. But the riddle said ‘Roses misled.’ Nicolaitan is playing with us. He’s given us two victims.”

  “‘Violence withdrawn’ can only mean that the next murder will be nonviolent,” I said. “Made to look like an accident.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of. I have work to do. To the Bat Cave!”

  “You don’t have a Bat Cave,” I said. “By the way, why are you here?”

  “I’m on a mission.”

  “And it is…?”

  He took my hand. “To keep an eye on an exasperating child who doesn’t know how to follow orders.”

  “Said child does not need a babysitter.”

  “Said child is headstrong and impulsive.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

  “I apologize in advance for being overprotective, but I’m going to enjoy it while I can.”

  “So you’re here to spy on me?”

  “No, actually, I had information for Mrs. Bagley that couldn’t wait. Spying on you is just a bonus. How’s the Drake-mission coming?”

  “Happily, I haven’t seen him yet
today.”

  “Make it a point to.”

  “Andy, I—”

  “The name is Alfred. Now—” He glanced behind me and quickly dropped my hand. Shoving his broom at me, he said loudly, “As I was saying, this is the Numbutt 2000, fastest broom in the school district. I can sweep this gym in record time, and then fly to the next cleanup. Go ahead, give ’er a try. No? Well, how about the young dude sneaking up behind you? Would he like to have a go?”

  I turned to see Mason coming toward us. He didn’t look happy.

  “No,” Mason said gruffly. “He wouldn’t. Come on, Rinnie, we have to get to the library.”

  Andy shot me a knowing glance. I smiled and handed the broom back to him. “Toodles.”

  “Who’s the fossil with the big hair?” Mason asked as we left the gym.

  “His name’s Alfred,” I said. “He’s the new janitor.”

  “Why was he holding your hand?”

  “Holding my—” I peeked at Mason out of the corner of my eye. He was glaring straight ahead. “Mason, are you jealous? That is so sweet! Believe me, he’s harmless.”

  Mason’s glare didn’t soften. “He looks like a pedophile.”

  I giggled.

  “You find my concern humorous?”

  “I find your arm humerus.”

  “Ha ha. Who’s the pedophile?”

  “He’s not a pedophile. Remember when I told you there are things I can’t talk about?”

  “I guess he’s one of them, huh? Convenient.” Then Mason’s eyes opened wide. “Oh.” He did a double take behind us. “Oh, he’s one of…you.”

  I didn’t say a word.

  “Duh.” Mason smacked his forehead. “So, as I was about to say before I lost my mind, Cappy is feeling much better. I guess his doctor put him on some sort of exercise regimen that he’s still getting used to. So, how’s your day?”

  “About to be ruined,” I said when I saw what was headed our way.

  “What have we here?” Tammy Angel strutted toward us with Boot Milner in tow. And Drake. Good timing. Now I could tell Andy I did my job.

  Tammy sniffed the air. “Mason, did you step in something? Oh, never mind, that’s Peroxide’s natural aroma.”

  “Nice to see you, too,” I muttered.

  Drake ignored me. Boot grunted and tried to stare me down. I looked away.

  “Have you all met Drake?” Tammy said. “He’s new in town, and I’ve decided to take him under my wing.”

  “I hope you wore deodorant,” I said.

  Drake struggled to restrain a grin then managed to pull off a decent I’m-not-the-kind-of-guy-you-want-for-an-enemy look. “So you’re Peroxide?”

  “It’s not bleached,” I said out of habit.

  “I’ve heard a lot about you,” Drake said. “Nothing good. Tammy, I thought you said she wasn’t as stupid as she looks. I think you’re wrong.”

  Tammy laughed, Mason got an I’m-going-to-kill-him look on his face, and I found myself with an interesting dilemma. Save Drake’s cover, or save his life? I decided his cover was more important.

  “Nice to meet you, too,” I said.

  “I think the new boy needs to learn some manners,” Mason said, reaching for Drake.

  “Mason,” Tammy said, throwing herself at him, rubbing up against him like a dull-witted cat in heat. “We miss you at the Shadow Passage. Pizza night just isn’t the same anymore.”

  “I’m on a diet,” Mason said coldly, glaring at Drake the way I was glaring at Tammy.

  “I know, sometimes being part of an elite group like the Red Team can be stressful,” Tammy crooned. “Agatha couldn’t whine her way back into my good graces, but I see no reason why you can’t. I can be very forgiving. Wanna see?”

  Wanna see my foot up your butt?

  “I told you before, I’m done, Tammy. Do you think what goes on in the Shadow Passage is a big secret? You have Art so messed up he can’t think straight, but he talks a lot. It’s just a matter of time until you end up in jail. Or worse. The people you’re involved with are dangerous.”

  “Art has never been able to think straight. It seems that you can’t anymore, either.” Tammy flicked her gorgeous hair with one hand. “Now that you have a smelly new girlfriend.”

  “She’s not smelly—”

  “It wasn’t enough to take Egon away from me, Peroxide,” Tammy snarled, poking me in the chest with her perfectly manicured finger. “Now you want to add Mason to your collection. Watch your back. I’m done playing games. I know people who aren’t afraid of your stupid karate.”

  “Yeah, watch your back,” Boot said, getting in my face.

  “If you’re referring to the time I tossed you two on your butts, that was kung fu.”

  Apparently, that’s what she was referring to, because a light came on in Boot’s eyes and she backed up a step.

  “Whatever.” Tammy turned to Mason. “Drake’s one of us now, and I swear, he is a hot one. I do hope you’ll reconsider coming back to the Red Team, Mason. If you’re not careful, I might let him take your place.”

  “I’ll take that risk,” Mason said, still staring down Drake.

  Tammy covered her nose. “Let’s go, Drake. I’m allergic to the goody-goody stench.”

  “That’s the bleach you smell,” Drake said then followed Tammy down the hall like a puppy.

  Drake had done well. Acted like a total jerk, and not remotely Psi Fighterish. But what had really amazed me was my incredible self-restraint. I didn’t cave to Tammy’s insults or rip her arms off when she rubbed her ectoplasm all over Mason. Yes, I was proudly above all that. No way would I stoop to her low, festering, despicable level. “Do you need something to scrape it off?” I asked Mason.

  He raised an eyebrow. “It?”

  “The slime she rubbed all over you.”

  He chuckled.

  “Well, she is slimy,” I said. “Very slimy. And ugly.”

  “And delusional,” Mason said. “Speaking of, didn’t you accuse me of being jealous not too long ago? Not that I’m complaining. I sort of like this side of you.”

  “That’s different. The janitor is an undercover friend. Tammy is—”

  “Not ugly,” Mason finished for me. “She’s gorgeous, and you know it.”

  “Well, she’s slimy.”

  “She’s totally slimy. The new kid can have her. If I let him live that long.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Drake’s Lowdown

  “Whoa!” Drake hollered as I pulled him into the boiler room by the collar, shutting the door behind us.

  “Cozy place you got here,” Drake said, gazing around.

  “Nice ruse back there with Tammy. Well played.”

  “A little dark and dusty compared to the Academy—”

  “Shhh!” I hissed, slapping my hand over his mouth, wondering why I’d bothered to begin the conversation with a compliment. “Never mention the Academy while we’re at school. Never mention anything about the Psi Fighters. How many times do I have to say it?”

  “Hmph,” Drake said. He pulled my hand away. “I mean, sorry. But it’s not like we’re in the middle of a crowd.”

  I shook my head. “Did anybody tell you why I’m on this mission with you?”

  “You like my company?”

  “No.”

  “No, that’s not the reason, or no, you don’t like my company?”

  “Yes.”

  Drake bit his lower lip. “Andy told me this might be difficult.”

  “It will get a lot worse if you don’t learn to protect our secrets.”

  “But all I said was—”

  “Enough to tip off any Knight who overhears you. Drake, the Knights are in this school.”

  “Yeah, Andy said something about that.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Said. Something. And what exactly did he say? ‘Oh, by the way, there are Knights, sure, but don’t worry, they don’t pay attention to the stupid remarks you make about being a Psi Fighter, or the secret entrance
s to the Academy, or the identity of the Morgan girl.’ Is that the something he said?”

  Drake nodded slowly, like a bobble head winding down for a long winter’s nap. “I only know of one secret entrance. Never heard of the Morgan girl. Morgan who?”

  “Never mind. The thing is we don’t talk about any of those secrets in school. Too many ears. We need to be nothing but students. In your case, a troublemaker. Tammy Angel gravitates to them. I have to admit, you did a nice job distancing yourself from me with Tammy. Those insults were top notch.”

  “I have a good teacher,” Drake said, patting me on the shoulder.

  “What did you find out?”

  “Andy said to get close to Angel and let her know I’m in need of some fast cash. Then just hang out, and insult you every chance I get. That will make Angel like me better.”

  “Seems like it worked,” I said. “What did you get?”

  “Tammy knows about the robberies but won’t tell me anything. ‘All in good time,’ she keeps saying. But I found out from Art that the Proletariat is involved.”

  “With the robberies? That makes no sense. What did he say?”

  Drake’s face turned red. “About what?”

  I did a double palms up. “The robberies. The Proletariat. What does he know about them?”

  “Well…” Drake shifted his eyes to the floor. “Not much. I mean, he didn’t call them the Proletariat. He…was pretty high. Didn’t make a lot of sense.”

  I raised an eyebrow but didn’t say that Drake wasn’t making much sense, either. “Out of curiosity, is Tammy supplying Art with Psychedone 10, like we all suspect?”

  Drake shook his head. “I don’t think so. I think there’s someone else.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “I don’t know,” Drake said, looking around the boiler room. “Look, I’d better get out of here. We can’t be seen together, right?”

  I nodded. “Right. Check the door we came in before you leave. You can see through the screen in the bottom panel. Make sure nobody’s in the hall. I’ll go out the door on the other side.”

  Drake left quietly, not making a sound when he shut the boiler room door. His stealth technique was pretty good.

  But his poker face was not.

  I was certain Drake wasn’t telling me everything. Fortunately, I was a member of another group of folks who would, and I was meeting them in fifteen minutes.