Psi-nister: Psi-ghted, #2

By Maxine Millar

Michel continues to struggle with his Psi abilities, his true identity, his wish for revenge, his fight with the media which is just beginning and his wish to find the woman he loves, another telepath with whom he has been communicating for thirteen years without knowing who she is because she does not wish to be found. And his obsession to get Jules, the woman who ordered his and his mother's kidnapping and death, sharpens as his new abilities increase his options. He yearns to kill Jules but that is illegal and will have consequences. How can he kill her and get away with it? Can he? More to the point should he?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Maxine Millar
• Release date: Apr 19, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463685723

Maxine Millar

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

Book preview

Introduction

In the late 21st century, once the star drive had been developed, exploration to other planets commenced and by the early 22nd century, these planets were seen not only as homes for settlers, the new west, but also as a dumping ground for unwanted people; political refugees, environmental refugees, criminals, those thrown off ancestral lands by oil companies, cattle barons, mining companies, forestry companies and the biggest category of them all, the chronically unemployed. These migrations were often involuntary for the unwanted people.

A two tiered society developed here on Sanctuary of the rich and the poor. The definition of rich was anyone who had a decent home and a job, for the poor generally had neither.

There were signs there had been a race of creatures here once, possibly sentient, but there was no sign of them now. There was evidence in ice cores that there had been an extinction level event, an asteroid strike. The huge number of apparent vacancies in the food chain were replaced by Terran imports and all seemed normal but as the years rolled on it became obvious it wasn’t. From some source, and the consensus of opinion now was that it was something in the environment, a mutation, or enhancement, was occurring in humans.

In Psi-ghted, Jay, surname unknown, a Shantytown orphan, is one of those Humans with a mutation, (or enhancement depending on your opinion). He can sense emotions and the intent of others. He can also tell if people are lying. This doesn’t keep him safe but it helps. Sometimes. Growing up an ‘unsupported orphan,’ Jay has few legal options to feed himself but plenty of others and works for Monty, a crime boss whom one could call a poor employer, deficient in his attitude towards Health and Safety of employees. Monty also pays Jay a pittance for the often dangerous job of drug courier. Jay finally leaves Monty’s employment, having a son and partner to provide for and considering that staying alive would assist in that task.

One day, signing up for casual labour, his world changes as he is identified as Michel (Me shill), the son of Jed Bannerman, kidnapped and missing for thirteen years. But Michel is seventeen while Jay is about twenty. Jay rejects his supposed father but uses his now legal status to get a job but life just keeps getting more and more complicated as he juggles work, identity and his secret child. Then his child is sold and Jay begs his father to help. Soon after, Jay finds pictures of his mother in his father’s home and realises it’s all true.

But Jay is an abused child with a history he has trouble dealing with and he burns for revenge. Jay, now accepting his real name of Michel, discovers that his mother arranged a block on his psi abilities to keep him safe and then blocked his memory to eliminate his memory of the torture of himself and his mother. She then used her Telekinesis to throw him from the spaceship.

Using his extraordinary abilities, he assists in the prosecution of Monty, his old boss. But for Michel this is practice, a stepping stone to his real ambition; to get Jules, the contractor who ordered the kidnapping and death of Michel and his mother and from which only Michel escaped.

Now, in Psi-nister, Michel continues to struggle with his psi abilities, his identity, his wish for revenge, his fight with the media which is just beginning and his wish to find the woman he loves, another Telepath with whom he has been communicating for thirteen years without knowing who she is because she does not wish to be found. And his obsession to get Jules, the woman who ordered his and his mother’s kidnapping and death, sharpens as his new abilities increase his options. He yearns to kill her but that is illegal and will have consequences. How can he kill and get away with it? Can he? More to the point should he?

Chapter One

Jules’ Space Station

The prisoner known as ‘Chainey’ looked up as the key turned in the lock and the black, hulking figure of one of her jailers entered. Seeing it was Bradley, she relaxed with relief; he wasn’t one of the evil ones although he certainly looked the part until you looked into his black eyes and saw the almost placid expression. He walked over to her, a huge man, yet he walked so quietly. She was slightly amused to see his caution and apprehension but he should know by now he had nothing to fear from her.

Bradley carefully attached a side loop of her chain to the heavy chain around his waist, checked it was secure, then unhooked her chain from the wall. He looked down at her as she sank to the floor thinking that that hadn’t been necessary and more to the point it was stupid. Whoever had done this to her had seen his opportunity because she was too exhausted to fight back but Chainey would get him eventually, whoever it was and now he would have to be on his guard from someone with Telekinesis. Not for the first time, he wondered why she couldn’t use Telekinesis to free herself yet clearly she couldn’t. Was it the weight of the chains or their proximity to her body? Yet she could reach beyond the chains. Not something he knew much about. His shook his head at someone’s stupidity. Not only was she chained too tightly but her blonde hair had food in it and he was very sure she hadn’t put it there. That was stupid and Bradley wasn’t stupid enough to challenge anyone here let alone this most dangerous of prisoners.

He watched as she slowly recovered, hoping her circulation hadn’t been cut off but her limbs looked normal in colouring so hopefully not. She had been chained so tightly against the wall that she couldn’t sit but was sort of hanging by the chains. He hoped she hadn’t been like that since last night’s session but he knew better than to ask and stir up a hornet’s nest. She probably had. Jules worked her until she almost collapsed and sometimes until she did collapse. If he said anything to Jules about this abuse today, he would then have to watch his back not only from the guilty party but also from any others of like mind.

Anyone who hurt Chainey was a mindless idiot, he thought. The chains could stop her jumping but they couldn’t stop the Telekinesis. Jules could protect herself from those like Chainey by always having a highly illegal personal Shield, but no one else could copy that. There was a problem of the cost, the availability and the small extra problem that only top VIP’s, law enforcement and the military were supposed to have them and then only a select few of all three categories. But anything is available at a price and Jules had obviously paid it. Chainey couldn’t touch her; not with psi.

Bradley doubted that Jules really saw the tiny Chainey as a threat any more, not after all these years, but no one could ever accuse Jules of being careless or of being a fool; she was neither. Add living among the type of people here and Jules was just being careful. Given she was also small, slim, hardly 5’6" and had to be over 60 years old, (although she didn’t look it), her precautions were necessary. She could hardly rule by force. Her height, or lack of it, was why her padded, brocaded and carved chair was set a good five feet up on a dais. She disliked anyone looming over her which would be almost all of those who were here. Everyone suspected her brown hair was that colour due to assistance but her other attributes were reputed to be natural. She had been a very good looking woman once and was still easy on the eye.

Her looks and her lack of height and bulk, added to her gender, had caused many people earlier on to seriously under-estimate her. Big mistake. She was tough and ruthless but people obeyed her also because, in addition to the Shield she was well armed and no one else here was, except her very well paid guards. She was also a crack shot as various people could attest to had they still been alive to do so.

Every time he was called into her presence, like now, Bradley dreaded it. Every time, so far, he had made it out alive unlike several others. He often wondered if the various Law Enforcement agencies on Sanctuary had any idea of just how many undesirables she eliminated for them but the trouble with Jules was that it wasn’t just undesirables she eliminated intentionally and otherwise, unless you included the unemployed in that list. But then a great many people did include them, he thought sadly, which was why when those like him went missing, no one went looking. If anyone asked questions, no one seemed to be even attempting to answer them. He knew his wife would have asked questions but was she still asking? He didn’t even know if she was still his wife let alone if their baby had been born alive, or at all.

Bradley waited patiently until Chainey was able to lift herself up by the chain hooks on the wall. Upright, she swayed until she got her balance which took several minutes and was obviously painful. He led her over to the table where a meal was waiting, out of her reach of course, but she shook her head, shuddering.

He looked at it. It was cold but it should still be edible,

Someone interfere with it?

Yes.

He didn’t want to know what they’d done in it this time. No wonder she was a skeleton covered with skin. One of these days someone would go too far and that would be the end of a very useful lady and that would cause considerable trouble with Jules for multiple people. He would be included in that list and since he wasn’t guilty he would feel somewhat put-out. He would feel even more put-out if he didn’t survive the experience. Some of Jules’s temper tantrums could be monumental and would be good business for funeral directors if she employed any but she didn’t need to. She had an airlock and a standard procedure. The dead were sent on their way in the direction and velocity to encourage their remains towards the planet and unless something got in their way, presumably they would eventually get there, but in ashes. No body, no mess and no evidence. Nobody ever accused Jules of being untidy.

Bradley sighed as he slowly encouraged Chainey to move; she was a lot of trouble for some of the guards but so far not for him. He hoped he knew how to get her cooperation. All he had to do was treat her decently and she seemed to be no problem but some of the other guards liked playing with the prisoners and they didn’t play nice. This showed very poor judgement because when provoked, Chainey didn’t play nice either. All sorts of things fell on people, unseen forces knocked them flat or caused objects to collide painfully often with various delicate bits of male anatomy causing general hilarity for everyone except the victim. A hit in the nuts was a joke that never failed to cause extreme amusement so long as it happened to someone else. But she was versatile. In other ways her retribution frequently entertained all and sundry with, again, the exception of the victim. Her relentless pursuit of some of the nastier guards kept most of them civil, most of the time and it was not only herself that she avenged. He wondered who the idiot was that had incapacitated her but more to the point was what she would do about it. At least it would cause some excitement although that might be a problem. Boring was safer.

He led her carefully to the bathroom. There was no point in expecting her to use the toilet in her room. The lights were on and he was there. She would not use the toilet in front of others. Women were funny like that. He wondered if the unknown idiotic guard was now regretting his little bit of fun. His emaciated prisoner had a favourite form of payback for the really abusive guards. Due to Chainey’s information, Jules had killed some of the guards but not apparently for what had been done to Chainey or other prisoners. She’d craftily told Jules they’d done other things like abuse her cats and that made Jules murderous. Jules was devoted to her cats. But Chainey had made other accusations against the guards at times and she had been quite inventive. As a consequence, most of the guards had learnt to leave her alone but some just couldn’t help themselves. Such stupidity made no sense to Bradley. He led her to the toilet, transferred her chain to the wall hook and left her in privacy. When she called out that she was finished he then led her to the basins, handing her a towel. They paused at the water fountain and then went via the kitchen, picking up a plate of some finger food she could eat on the way. To his relief, she ate it.

Ah, Chainey, how nice to see you finally here, Jules said sarcastically as she looked down at her favourite prisoner/employee; her own tame Telepath. Beside Jules were several men, trying not to look nervous and failing miserably.

Bradley tensed, but Jules didn’t ask why Chainey was late and he breathed a sigh of relief as Jules began the interrogation of various employees who could have done without this privilege. There were more than the usual numbers of onlookers here, keen to be entertained by watching Jules inflict her cruelty on a helpless victim. Hopefully several.

Chainey too relaxed as a stool was provided for her. The stool and using her nickname of ‘Chainey’ rather than her alternative one of ‘The Bitch’ meant that Jules was in a good mood. Chainey flicked her Telepathy over those to be interrogated finding the usual cesspits of fear, guilt, greed and in one case, abject terror. She had little sympathy; generally they got what they deserved. No likely recruits or innocent candidates among these six.

The interrogations went on all day as Jules ascertained who had cheated her and to what extent, Chainey providing the answers they tried so hard to hide but couldn’t. When asked a question, their voice denied what their thoughts couldn’t. It was routine until the sixteenth man was brought in, a spaceship navigator. He was a Telepath and he hated Jules with a passion.

Startled, the man followed Chainey’s instructions as he was led forward and looked up at Jules.

Why did the Lederman consignment arrive incomplete?

I don’t know.

He’s telling the truth…

…and he doesn’t know but he thinks Mosby or Hassam might be guilty.

There was a long pause while those men were fetched.

Jules turned to Chainey, What is he guilty of?

Wanting to resign! He doesn’t like you but he has a family and he’s too scared of retaliation against them to do anything. But he’s also basically honest.

Jules grunted as Chainey wished she could recommend him for promotion but that comment was way above her pay grade and she daren’t make it. The interrogation of Mosby and Hassam indicated both of them were guilty but as was usual, they both fingered others who also had their fingers in the pie. As the day wore on, Chainey never failed to be gobsmacked that so many people tried to cheat Jules. It was suicidal as well as brainless.

A few minutes later as there was a pause between victims, Chainey smiled as a large ginger cat scooted into the ‘throne room’ aimed at Jules but she lost her smile as she observed Marmalade’s tail was fluffier than normal as she ran past some of the audience.

Jules also noticed the giant economy sized tail as the cat leaped into her lap and demanded attention and soothing.

Who upset her?

Chainey used her chance, My bet would be Venin. I’ve noticed all the cats hate him but especially Marmalade.

At a signal from Jules, Venin was sought from the adjoining prison staffroom and brought forward but Jules looked suspiciously at Chainey and drawled, Are you sure?

Chainey knew Jules had been told she lied to her to get back at people that had hurt her but she smiled broadly.

I’m very sure but don’t take my word for it, let Marmalade tell you.

At another gesture from Jules, Venin was brought up near the cat and then away as Marmalade expressed her opinion, hissing and struggling.

Convinced?

Jules looked down at Chainey her suspicions now evaporated,

Thank you, she said and handed Marmalade down to Chainey to be pampered as she left her ‘throne room.’ Venin went out another door with his escorts. He wasn’t going to the dining room that Jules was going to.

Both Marmalade and Chainey were clearly pleased to see each other and as Jules left the room and her Shield went with her various small items flew around the room in the vicinity of the delighted cat. Even hardened cat haters were amused as Marmalade put on a spectacular performance worthy of the Maine Coon that she was. Although she had to be at least twelve years old she could still leap six feet and use her paws as hands. Chainey smiled, she had known that Venin hated cats being an exclusive dog lover. That suited his personality as he liked anything that fawned over him. She smiled at the thought. Cats never believed in unconditional love or ‘Unconditional Positive Regard.’ They didn’t generally fawn either, even when starving. You had to be deserving to get a cat’s regard and to keep it. Deserving in the cat’s opinion meant food, shelter, warmth and often entertainment. Chainey smiled; it was so easy to distract a cat and Marmalade had clearly forgotten whoever or whatever it was that had made her upset. Chainey tried not to remember the sick expression on Venin’s face as he had realised he was going to be blamed for something. Word would get around those who knew of the cowardly attack on her. There would be a pause before it happened again.

Chainey picked up the heavy Marmalade for a quick cuddle and wondered what had upset her. Not the other cats as she was the biggest and the boss. Most of the other cats avoided large numbers of people like this and stayed in their apartment but Marmalade was large, well-armed, still fast despite her age and knew who to avoid. Chainey assumed her curiosity overwhelmed all the negatives outside her apartment and although all the cats had access to the ‘throne room,’ few ventured out. Chainey doubted Venin had ever gotten near to Marmalade but his dislike of cats was broadcast to cats whether he knew it or not in the same way as dogs know who fears them. Venin tormented anyone and anything he could and had some truly despicable methods. Chainey was very grateful to Marmalade who had fingered him so convincingly. Oops, pawed him? Chainey chuckled as Marmalade exited the room.

Bradley noticed that Venin had been dealt to so a safe assumption was that he had been the sadistic fool. Today’s interrogations over, Bradley took Chainey back via the clothing room and had her pick out some clean clothing. He was sure he had seen her in that outfit for days and he knew women didn’t like that. He then took her through to the Cleaner and back to her cell via the kitchen again where he ensured she picked up a meal, some sealed snacks and a drink. When he was sure no one was looking, he slipped her a Reader. He knew she loved to read. It was one Adele, another guard, had been reading and had given him to slip to her. Adele and Chainey had similar tastes which were varied. Chainey would read almost anything and since all the Readers were full there should be a thousand books on it. There was nothing else for her to do, she had no media outlet. Like Chainey, for Bradley, books made life worth living and he too read voraciously, preferably nonfiction and anything scientific he could get hold of. So far, while working for Jules, he had completed the reading for a science degree but the material was old and out of date and even if he could ever enrol in any tertiary institution, he would never be able to afford the fees. Still, he could study and he could dream.

At her cell, he carefully looped her chain on the rings in such a way that she had access to the bed, the toilet and the ledge where her meal was pushed through the slot. Only then did he detach the loop that attached her to his belt harness. If she ever escaped while he was in charge of her it would mean he would be on his way to the planet, airmail and he wasn’t keen on that. So although he was sorry for Chainey, he wasn’t about to lose his life by letting her escape and there was no where she could run to anyway. If she jumped outside, she would die. Small problem of no air to breathe among other problems such as air pressure or lack thereof. Looking down at what passed for her bed he paused, then went and fetched the mobile Cleaner. He Cleaned her floor, bed and walls where some vacuum brained idiot had thrown a meal or two. That was better, it looked clean, it smelled clean and it looked fit to sleep in. That was the best he could do for her.

Thank you Bradley.

He looked at her in surprise; she so seldom spoke unless she had to.

He murmured, That’s alright, and left, slightly embarrassed.

He headed back to the bunkroom he shared with twenty-four other men. It was the monthly payday. After patiently waiting in line, he accessed his account on the computer and divided up his excuse for a pay as usual between Deanna and his mother. There was no point in keeping any for himself. He knew he would never be able to resign and he would never leave here alive. The money wasn’t much but in Shantytown, it would keep them going until next pay. Every time he did this he tensed but every time so far the payment had gone through. This meant their accounts were still open which implied they were both still alive. He had had no contact with them since he had been desperate enough to take this job on nearly seven years ago. Deanna had been rather unexpectedly and accidentally pregnant and they had had no income and almost nothing to eat. Agreeing to this job came with one month’s pay in advance as he entered the ship and he had transferred it all into her account. If the baby had survived, it would be six and he would be unlikely to ever see it. The not knowing was the worst part. He had not been allowed any communication with anyone outside this space station since he arrived here. The first thing that had happened once the spaceship was sealed was that all their bracelets had been removed. They had all recognised how ominous that was. It was then no surprise to learn they had no choice of a job, unlike what the recruiter had said and no fixed term contract. In fact no contract at all and he was lucky he was paid anything. Over half of them weren’t. Cancellation of their paltry pay was a threat always hanging over all of them for any infractions of the rules as was the promise of reinstatement of pay or bonuses for behaviour favoured by Jules such as grassing on someone. Bradley avoided such enticements and kept a low profile. Those grassed on often had nasty friends. So far it had worked; a small pay was better than none.

His sheer size probably discouraged most men from attacking him although it did happen occasionally. Each time he inflicted minimal damage to just get them off him but a few times he had been set upon by several men or weapons had been used and once or twice as a consequence he had panicked and done more damage than he had intended. But he had never been called to account by Jules for this and he wasn’t sure why. The potential threat hanging over him made him uneasy but like most other things in his life now there was little he could do about it. Like many from Shantytown, he had sought means to protect himself and due to his size, he had picked wrestling. It resulted in less damage to both participants than boxing and was a greater crowd pleaser due to the entertainment side of it. Karate had been his first choice but the Dojo had declined him due to his size.

It had been a long day as usual so he headed for his tiny single bunk hoping these quarrelsome idiots would shut up soon so he could get some sleep.

Chapter Two

Capital City, Sanctuary

It was to be another four weeks yet before my present job in the Complaint’s Office went to part time, three days a week instead of full time so I could commence work for my father as well, as a consultant. That sounded awesome; a consultant for my father. Not only would that give me some indication into what the family business was but also it let me into a lot of commercial secrets. And the pay was outstanding!

Monty having being dealt with, my next priority was Siobhan and I did not know what to do. I wanted her but I didn’t want to ruin our friendship and I didn’t want to hurt her; she was hurting enough already. I was talking casually with Ischi one day when she said,

What’s wrong with you? I thought you’d be overjoyed with Monty dead but you’re distracted, obviously worried about something and preoccupied.

There’s a girl…

Ah ha…!

It’s complicated, I paused, it’s like through the stratosphere complicated.

I’m all ears.

She was too. She was enjoying this but I wasn’t. I paused, wondering if I should tell her but I knew Ischi could keep her mouth shut and I needed help, I don’t know who she is, I confessed.

Now I’m just confused. Is this an online thing?

No, it’s worse, it’s a psi thing.

How can that be worse than on line when you don’t know if they’re married, male or female and 6 or 99?

I smiled, She’s female, a bit older than me, reclusive and the contact is Telepathic. Her first name is Siobhan. That’s the uncomplicated part.

So, where did you meet her?

I’ve never met her and I’ve known her for fourteen years.

There was a pause as Ischi dealt with that, So, she’s the one who doesn’t want to meet?

Yes.

Does she know who you are?

No.

Does she know your name? Your real name?

No.

Why not?

Those are her rules. No identifying information.

How did you meet her/contact her?

I smiled at Ischi, stumbling over semantics, When I first arrived in Shantytown I fell the last, I don’t know how far. I was injured. I had lost all contact with my mother and that had never happened before. Every time I had reached out for her she was there. Now, there was silence and that upset me more than the pain. To say I was terrified would be an understatement. I was trying to find her with my mind and I found Siobhan instead.

I thought you weren’t a Telepath then.

I could receive from another Telepath if they were strong, loud and nearby. She was all three; much stronger than I was then but now we’re pretty equal, I think.

So you’ve been communicating with this girl or woman since then?

Several times a week at least, often several times a day.

Is she in Shantytown?

No, I don’t think so. I think she’s rich or her father is. Her mother is too, they’re divorced and she lives with her Dad.

Does she have a job?

Yes, she works for an accountancy firm. She’s doing her training, her Accountancy Degree I mean and will qualify this year.

So, Ischi said slowly, Is this why you went from wanting to date but too sick to, to what, deciding to go full out for this one instead?

Ah, yes. Had I been that obvious? But once I found out who I was, I had wondered if Siobhan and I were a possibility and decided to go for broke. Ischi was right, I was repelling all hopefuls.

But there’s more to it isn’t there?

Oh lots more. She has been diagnosed as mentally ill but I don’t think she is. You see, well, what do you know about mental illnesses?

Not a lot, try me.

Do you know what Schizotypal Personality Disorder is?

No, but I can understand the language, she said busily looking it up on her bracelet and reading. There was a pause, OK, got that, that’s what she has?

Yes and no. That’s what she’s diagnosed as but I don’t think she has it. I’ve been described as her invisible friend,

Ischi smiled, An apt description. I still don’t see the problem.

I sighed, Because I am thought of as a delusion; her delusion. I watched as Ischi checked back on her bracelet and said,

Oh. Yes that would form a part of the diagnostic criteria. Why doesn’t she explain that you’re real?

She did, apparently to another psi. He said what we did, the level and type of our communication was impossible. Not even psi could do that.

Ischi nodded, Because you’re linked not just Telepathic.

How did you know…? Oh, Danny?

Yes.

I told him that linking was a secret.

He’s four.

Ischi was clearly thinking that was a huge joke but I was wondering who else had he told. I dished myself up a spoonful of reality. He was four and all of Psi School knew…

Can’t she explain that to the Psychiatrist? She asked. Oh, no she can’t if she won’t admit to psi.

She won’t admit to psi, I confirmed.

Oh. Then she has got a problem, especially if she even denies Telepathy. But, there must be something else wrong.

How did you know that?

She would be referred to Mental Health for some reason; something causing a load of distress or dysfunction, not just for an invisible friend. Something was wrong.

I wondered what I should say given Ischi might meet her one day but then I rethought; this was Ischi. Most general nurses, as I’d found out, were somewhat intolerant of psychiatric and/or emotional problems. They seemed to think you had an anxiety attack just to piss them off and/or attempted suicide to make them work overtime on Saturday night.

I’d achieved the first myself (the anxiety attacks) and assisted with the consequences of the second and my friend that I had rushed to hospital had received a lot of criticism and very little and very reluctant help as in they stitched him up while telling him off which he really didn’t need. And he had been severely distressed to begin with. They made it worse. He declined his Psychiatric follow-up after agreeing to go to it in order to get out of hospital and away from such cruel people. Mental Health staff were on another call but that was hardly surprising since Mental Health, I’d found, got the dregs of the available finance even for the tax payers. And that means I was talking about outside Shantytown not inside. I repeat; at what was supposed to be a proper hospital for tax paying citizens not a free charity clinic. I had been appalled. I had found him help with a volunteer organisation.

But Ischi was different. She understood things like my having a digestive tract that refused to accept food at certain times and an overtired me that couldn’t sleep. In fact she was remarkably tolerant of my anxiety too