Psi-ghted: Psi-ghted, #1

By Maxine Millar

Jay, a Shantytown orphan, has some psi abilities; he can detect emotions and lies and has a little Telepathy. This helps, slightly, in a society where he is surrounded by the desperate and criminals and he has few legal choices but plenty of others for his people were transported to this planet, Sanctuary, to provide a cheap labour pool. The reality is a two tier society; the rich and the destitute. Jay has recently 'resigned' his job of a drug courier for Monty, seeking better options now he is old enough for more legal options. He also has a partner and son to provide for and Monty was delinquent with issues such as Health and Safety of employees. One day, lining up for dock work, Jay's world changes as he is identified by Bounty Hunters as the missing son of a billionaire. Jay suspects the Bounty Hunters hacked the data base and that it's all a lie to get the reward. He rejects his 'father' but he uses his legal status to get a job. Life should be improving but it is confusing, his job is a nightmare, he is juggling two worlds hiding each from the other, trying to sort out which is real. And then his son is kidnapped, he needs help and nothing else matters.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Maxine Millar
• Release date: Mar 14, 2018
• ISBN: 9781370426805

Maxine Millar

Maxine lives in New Zealand, on a life style block. She now writes full time.

Book preview

Chapter One

A page opened in my mind like a computer screen. I scanned it as she scrolled the pages slowly down and had to read several pages twice before I saw the anomaly.

I smiled as I felt her caress in my mind and her relief. I sensed she’d been trying to find the ‘creative accounting’ she was sure was there.

Siobhan was an accountant and did the books for all sorts of people who had dodgy motives at times. She had an instinct for this but often needed help to confirm it. I was the math genius. Now she was sure what to look for she’d find the rest.

I had first been aware of her not long after I arrived here when she heard me sobbing when I was silent and hiding. I had been hiding from everyone and I had a sickening headache and a broken arm. She convinced me to seek help from another child. That was thirteen years ago. I went back to sleep.

I awoke again, stretched, and looked around. It sounded like Danny was just finishing up the last of the milk. I hoped it wasn’t off yet but Danny could handle it pretty sour. He’d had lots of practice. I dragged myself up and checked the milk container. Empty. That meant coffee without milk. Yuk. I checked. Wrong. No coffee either. The only thing worse than black coffee was no coffee. Then I remembered we were out of gas too so that would have been cold coffee anyway. And we were out of water. All that was left in the food line was concentrate. Dehydrated concentrate. I sighed, not a good morning. I wondered if I could find some clean water somewhere but in the meantime Sharelle was glaring at me. I knew what that meant. It was my turn to work and I wouldn’t be welcome back unless I had some food. I hadn’t found work for several days and we had run out of almost everything. Sharelle would have to find some clean drinking water for Danny and Marcene and hopefully some extra water for washing. We were all smelling a bit rank and I couldn’t remember the last time we’d been able to afford a Cleaner.

Carefully, I unlocked and eased open the metal door of the van; the van that was now joined onto this larger van. I looked around as Danny scooted up to me. Danny was the only one small enough to stand up in this shelter and I smiled as I hugged my little son and crawled out of the shelter, carefully easing my Shield out in front. I could feel no imminent danger, just the usual background mix. It was just before dawn and I could see no one. A rare tree nearby shadowed the door which meant we could sneak a peek out without being seen, to check if it was safe to move but it was early morning and generally Monty’s Mob were late risers. I headed for the docks, thinking, carefully feeling for danger, Shield ranging as far as I could deploy it.

Sharelle had a job but sometimes she hated it and I hated her doing it. But she made such good money when she worked, more from the private stuff generated by her job. With her beautiful face, long black hair, almost black eyes, perfect lithe figure and athletic ability she was a bar dancer in one of the local joints. Popular at the club because of her looks and dancing style, she danced in bare feet. Bare feet were rated as being very sexy. But although it was well paid work it was high maintenance and high risk.

In this rich, snobby planet incongruously named Sanctuary, there were two classes; rich, and us and we were descended from refugees. On this planet, refugees were the poor, the undesirable and the exploited. The rest of the population chose to come here and some were from other planets but mostly Earth. I was probably born here but that didn’t make me a Sanctum. A good job, a black bracelet, an income did. I had none of the above.

• • •

I had to find work not only for food, now but for Sharelle to be able to work. To work, Sharelle needed make-up, a Cleaner and flash clothes and a couple of weeks ago a customer had ripped her outfit. The money tucked into her clothes had mostly fallen out and other customers had grabbed it so she’d come home in ruined clothes with bruises and grazes, and very little money. Her sullen manner indicated that hadn’t been the only injury. I knew not to enquire further and so did her Mum. And it was the only suitable outfit she’d had.

Marcene had tried to fix it but it was too damaged. Sharelle needed a new outfit and they weren’t cheap. And our deal was that I had to match the money she made and it was my turn and I wasn’t doing so well. I had a hard time managing to match her pay unless I did treble her hours…or something illegal. Marcene tried to find work as well but she hadn’t had even a few hours work for weeks. But Marcene looked after Danny and was vital for the rare times we were both working and Danny loved his Grandma. Crucially, Marcene was a peacemaker and I knew that without her Sharelle would kick me out, again. Marcene liked me and vice versa. A pity Sharelle didn’t share that view.

If I didn’t get some work today I’d have to go back into the black. I was known as a drug runner so I couldn’t do that anymore, not without an awful risk and I’d have to either sub-contract out or work for the opposition; both very risky choices. Sub-contracting out meant finding one of Monty’s drug couriers and doing some of the runs for them; very risky if Monty’s Mob found out. The second alternative, the opposition, was risky for the same reason; Monty’s Mob. If they found out I was back in the game they’d be after me to work for them instead since I’d made a great deal of money for them. For them. Not for me.

I sighed, it was a pity because it paid so well although not if you worked for Monty’s Mob as I had had to. The cops still randomly searched me. Although they had never caught me with drugs they knew I had done it because they had known I worked for Monty, plus where I went and because of the times I had done a runner from them. And all the drug lords liked me because I never touched the merchandise (unless I paid for it) and had always managed to deliver it, albeit occasionally late because of occupational hazards such as muggings and broke customers who wanted the merchandise but didn’t want to, or couldn’t pay. Then there were the crazy customers, cops, or rival gang trouble. Little occupational hazards.

If I didn’t get work today it would have to be stealing but getting into any area where I could steal, off those who had anything worth stealing, was a problem. I had only an orange data bracelet (which was virtually only holding my empty bank account) and very little access to anywhere decent. That left pick pocketing which was very risky if I was caught. I didn’t fancy being in prison or slave labor on God knew which planet. And I didn’t fancy never seeing my Danny again. But the main problem was I didn’t like stealing. It played havoc with my nerves and put my conscience into overdrive. And it was so risky with a myriad of surveillance equipment everywhere. But anything was better than working for Monty again despite the steady but pitiful income. My health and nerves were so much better after I had suffered through the ‘resignation beating.’

Quickly but cautiously, Shield on full, I picked my way through the shanty town cum garbage heap we lived in, automatically scanning my surroundings for danger or anything worth picking up or eating. Monty’s mob were late risers so they shouldn’t be up yet but I still needed to be cautious. I could see that now two container ships were nearing the port so I picked up speed hopefully. An advantage of being under a flight path was that I was close to them. A disadvantage was that the flight path was overhead which was why no one with a choice chose to live here. A ship falling on top of me would be a problem. More so was the constant threat of it. I couldn’t help the feeling of unease every time one of those monstrous masses passed over me.

It was twenty-two years since the last one had crashed, about two years before my birth. Civil Defense were hazy as to the casualties but estimated 5,000 had been injured and around 10,000 incinerated. The area had burned for days and city officials had noted that it had been one way to clean up the neighborhood and most of the casualties had been trash so we were no loss. Very few on the cargo ship had been killed because most had escaped through the escape pods. Five courageous crew had stayed on board to try to get the stricken ship out to sea and they had almost made it but the A grav had failed so fast and with so little warning and the engines just couldn’t cope with that weight on their own.

Reaching the casual recruitment gate in the perimeter fence, I moved into the permitted enclosed space and stood in line. With the second container ship now passing overhead there might be some work at least for a few hours. I watched as it slowly went towards the port. Idly I wondered which planet it had come from but in the dim light I couldn’t see the markings.

I looked up as some people came down the line. Along with several others, I was abruptly gestured out of the line. Hope flared within me but then I looked at the seven other boys the woman had picked out. We were all about the same age, all blond and slim. This was starting to look suspiciously like a sex job and I didn’t do those any more. Was I that desperate yet?

The woman who seemed to be hiring looked at all the boys. She tried not to get too close to us, probably not too keen on how we smelt.

As she walked near me, not coming too close I noticed, she said, Take your glasses off.

Reluctantly, I removed my sun glasses and felt the flare of her sudden interest.

• • •

Sanila, felt her attention sharpen. The age was right, the eyes were right, the blonde hair and light skin coloring also and she’d had that tip off. That very expensive tip off. He was worth checking out but she noted the wariness in his rare emerald colored eyes. He probably smelt a rat (as well as smelling like a rat), and he was right. Orange bracelet, so minimal or no data history on it. That wouldn’t help.

She decided on partial truth and thought quickly. I am recruiting staff for a fussy client. I get paid for ones he likes. No, it’s not a sex job, she added, correctly interpreting the rejection in those weird but strangely beautiful eyes.

• • •

I was unconvinced but decided to play along for a while. There was a little truth in what she was saying but mostly lies. She wanted something from me but not sex, I thought. I was surprised as she said,

What is your planet of origin?

I don’t know. Here I suppose.

What do you mean you don’t know?!

I don’t know.

Well what do your parents say?

I don’t have any.

What do you remember about them.

Nothing. I wasn’t about to give her any weird details!

So you just woke up one day and here you were.

Yes. That’s all I told anyone. Only Siobhan knew the rest. I noted her excitement. Now she was really interested but I wasn’t. She hadn’t offered me anything. My attention was suddenly grabbed by the sight of dock recruiters and I turned towards them but she moved in front of me and said,

Three hours work minimum, basic wage, Cleaner, food and water.

Accepted. I held out my hand.

I watched as she transferred the contract into my orange bracelet. Three hours work at basic wage would feed us all for a week with care and there were over a hundred workers here for maybe a handful of jobs and I was small in height and weight. I thought I was strong but I knew I didn’t look it. I had learnt early to take what I could get and that was the best offer I had had all day. And was likely to get. Add to that I was hungry and thirsty. With this, until she cancelled it, I could use a toilet, get clean water, go outside the stinking environment I lived in, use public transport which was free for the day for those with an activated orange bracelet (which she had just done) and I could take clean water home if she would extend the bracelet’s time. Most employers were decent enough to do that and I could fill all our water containers up before the bracelet cut out. With uncontaminated water! Mentally, I was compiling a grocery list starting with coffee, milk, all the concentrate I could afford and tinned food. I might be able to get some concentrate with all the precious vitamins we all needed.

I followed as the woman motioned me into a Cleaner Plus, activated it and said, Ten minutes.

Two pushes?

Two, she confirmed.

We all travelled down past the desperate waiting for work until we reached one of the Cleaners by the Shantytown security gate. I entered the small, clean room and stripped all my clothes off, spreading them onto the hooks. Quickly I used water and the little gel towels to get what Cleaners couldn’t, lifted my arms up and pushed once, turned my clothes inside out and pushed it again. I luxuriated in the tingling as the Cleaner cleaned me all over, hair and all. Clean, at last! Moving to the spigot I switched to ‘tepid’ and drank as much of the clean, filtered water as I could force in. Then in bliss I used the toilet and luxuriated in a rare opportunity to empty everything in privacy, peace, safety and comfort. And I could flush it all away rather than have the smell and the container to deal with afterwards. Six minutes left. I redressed, drank more and again used the toilet getting rid of everything I possibly could. I checked myself over, did my hair, cleaned my teeth, exited and looked at my escorts.

The woman who was clearly the boss, was small around five foot nine but looked tough and in her thirties. The other woman looked a right heavy, taller and was a bit younger. The man was also a heavyweight. At least six foot six and solid with it. They were all dark haired, dark eyed and brown skinned. They didn’t look impressed with me. I didn’t care. If things turned to custard and looked risky I could reject the work and forfeit the payment but I would still be clean and full of clean water.

I followed them, my enthusiasm increasing they passed me through Security and then to my delight we got on an express bus and headed into the City. Half an hour later, (transport and ‘cleaning’ regretfully not counted in my three hours ‘work time’), we took another bus on a side route. I revealed in the cleanliness, the fresh air, the skyscrapers overhead, the colors, the myriad of different, tantalizing smells and I loved buses and travelling. I envied the people. Almost all were well dressed and moving like they had somewhere to go and something to do which I so seldom had. Because I was under temporary contract, my bracelet gave me free public transport for a set time and I could go home via one of the cheaper, budget supermarkets selling recently expired products. That would be at least a fifth of the exorbitant prices we had to pay for shops in and near Shantytown. Often, for the same expired cheap goods.

I looked up as we all got off in front of a skyscraper. The Bantalmid Complex. I’d heard of it. A city in a building with stores, factories, luxury apartments and I wondered what else as they moved too fast for me to access the Directory. We entered the elevator, walked along corridors and entered a sickbay? Hospital? I looked around, puzzled as they ushered me into a room and the little boss woman left. The younger woman roughly pushed me into a seat and I looked around, my unease rising.

What’s going on? Why am I here? This isn’t work, I don’t like this.

Shut up, the woman said roughly, you’re going to have a blood test.

I looked up as another woman came in, old and wearing a white coat and she started to organize things I didn’t like the look of. They had sharp points. She looked directly at me and stopped. I felt sharp interest, suspiciousness and unease emanating from her.

What’s the matter? She said to me. She looked at my escorts. I don’t do any tests without consent. His consent, she added indicating me.

I looked at her and grinned. Nice lady. On my side. That made a change.

Shut up and get the test done, the man said to me and he and woman held me down in the chair and grabbed my arms. I felt the anger, contempt, disgust, frustration and greed; why the greed?

I flexed my muscles then relaxed and abruptly slid down onto the floor between them catching them by surprise. I twisted and leapt away but the woman still had my wrist and twisted it. I had no option but to move with her or let my arm get broken. I vaguely heard an alarm going as the man got hold of me and the woman forced me onto the floor. The man landed on top of me and something sharp pierced my thigh. I panicked and struggled violently, shaking the man off me and managed to get partly to my feet, sure this thug was trying to drug me but the woman still had my arm and she flipped me back onto my stomach. Damn she was good at this. Bitch!! The male thug leapt back onto me and sat on my shoulders and I couldn’t move. Hell, I could hardly breathe!

What’s going on here?!

I looked up with difficulty. It was the boss lady.

He won’t co-operate! The female thug answered radiating aggression and disgust.

Idiot!! Just offer him more money. His type will do anything for money! She looked down at me in frustration as the building security staff entered at a run.

Two minutes later I was on my feet, sore, a cut on my lip bleeding profusely as was one on my forehead and several parts of my anatomy were complaining in a painful chorus. My pants were ripped where the thug had stuck me with something and I listened as several people talked at once and the thugs explained they hadn’t meant to hurt me. Like Hell they hadn’t! But I grinned again as I saw the nice lady in white was sticking up for me and saying,

It wasn’t his fault and these thugs held him down and even I didn’t know what tests were wanted and the boy obviously has not given his consent.

Everyone looked at me.

I don’t have a clue what’s going on, I said. These nutters offered me a few hours work and we ended up here. I don’t know why. No one’s told me nothing.

All eyes went on the boss lady who looked very uncomfortable. I thought this would have been comical if I didn’t hurt so much but it was nothing compared to what Monty’s Mob could do; I was unbroken, vertical and conscious. But my pants were ripped and that did matter. That left me with one pair unless Marcene could fix them and I doubted that; they’d been far gone since before they were ripped and the material had had it. The nice lady in white dabbed my face where it was bleeding. She radiated anger, sympathy and concern. Whatever she used stung briefly but then it mostly stopped hurting and stopped bleeding. I wondered what the stuff was.

The boss lady said, We’re just after the reward. He looks right and gives the right history. I offered him three hours work to get him here for a blood test.

And you told him none of that, said the nice old lady in white, the contempt almost dripping off her. Contempt aimed at someone else for a change I noted with pleasure.

One of the security staff looked again at me. Where did you find him? He asked.

Shantytown, the boss lady answered.

Michel was taken off planet.

Yes, but what if the sensors were wrong or altered. What if he never left the planet? What if he was smuggled back?

Too many sensors showed he did leave and none showed him coming back.

I hadn’t a clue what they were on about but then the lady in white looked at me and said, Would you have a blood test if we order this lady to replace your trousers and pay you double the wages agreed to, to compensate you for your injuries?

Yes. Six hours pay and new trousers to replace those fifteenth hand ones I thought? Deal! I sat back in the chair. I could tell the boss lady was feeling like she was having a bad day and had wasted her time and money and my day was getting better and better. Although I had the right to prosecute them, or try to, I knew how like that was to work and I’d rather have the money and I’d bet the nice lady in white had figured that out.

I wasn’t quite so keen when she started cleaning up my face and sealed my lip and my eyebrow but she was fast so it didn’t hurt for long and she’d done an expensive sealing job. The scars I already had didn’t need extra company and they wouldn’t get any from such a classy repair job.

A few minutes later the blood test was done too and we were heading up to the clothes section of one of the shops. One having a sale I noted dryly. Quickly the boss lady picked out some cheap fawn trousers and handed them over. I decided to push my luck,

Those are flimsy and summer weight. They won’t last. These are better, and I picked out a nice pair, dark blue, wouldn’t show the dirt so much, six pockets, working trousers, good material, warm and three times the price.

No. These, the boss lady argued as one of the security men that had been following us said, Good choice kid, and grinned at me. He took the blue ones over to the counter, I followed, and we both stared back at her.

The boss lady glared at both of us, stalked over and pressed her bracelet to the scanner and then to the trousers and handed them to me. The agreeable security guard pointed to a changing area and I changed. I looked at myself. Swollen lip, sutures, bruises, badly bruised wrist where that bitch had twisted it and one going-to-be-a black eye. And that was just what was visible. Worse, I didn’t think the thugs had a scratch on them and I normally did a lot better than that. My leg hurt too and I wondered what that bastard had stuck me with. I wondered if I should have told the nice old lady about that but I felt ok and it hadn’t bled much. I emerged from the changing room in the first new clothing I’d had in years. My new best trousers. Best of two. I dumped my old trousers in a rubbish chute where they should have gone years before.

You promised me some food, I reminded the boss lady.

We’re all going up to a restaurant to wait for the test results, she told me grumpily. I was enjoying this. I was surrounded by security guards and by their demeanour they were making it subtly obvious that I was the victim here. What a change from normal encounters with their species. People were looking at me with curiosity not contempt.

My stomach rumbled in anticipation. Or maybe it was just grumbling. It had been a while since it had been full except for that water and my bladder was reminding me I’d better find a toilet fast. My kidneys seemed to have taken the hint and gone into overdrive with some decent water to flush with. But first things first.

We entered a large restaurant with multiple aisles. I looked around. Meals there, snacks there, salads, fruit. I quickly realized it was dietary choices and types of meals but we were all sticking together and I had to stay with them as they were going to pay for me. That was part of the contract. In satisfaction, I saw they were heading for meals and I was assailed by such delicious smells. From ads, I knew what the meals were called but not what they tasted like as most of these foods were native Terran and I wondered why. Some I knew. I waited until we were at the meat counter and quickly filled my tray with several spoon fills of different meat meals all together in the same partition so it would count as one. I chose bread rolls, butter and salad. Salad was a treat. Normally it was risky as where I came from it was liable to have been washed in water that could be contaminated but not here, I thought. Ditto the fruit so I chose that. Fresh fruit. And coffee. Oh bliss!

I ate quickly but took the time to savor the flavors; satay, curry, another type of curry I thought and some weird stuff, but nice tasting but I couldn’t remember what the label had said. Some type of local stuff. I then headed for the toilet as one severely stressed sphincter was threatening to fail and I couldn’t have that; my