AUGUST:VOID:PIRATE: A Psi-Fi Novel

By Zephy Landan

They cannot see me, I am invisible, I am undetectable. He repeated the mantra to himself in his mind. The guard aimed straight at him
“You cannot see me!” The mental shout was broad, he didn’t have a connection to the mind behind the armour so he had to just project the message wide and loud.

“Stop.” The command was emitted from a speaker on the transport.

August kept walking, the other guards had turned around to face him as well and their weapons were also pointing at him.

“Freeze.” He broadcast the order to all the guards and they froze in position as he reached out with his kinetic fields and wrapped each of the men with a limb-hugging fixed field.

Ok, so I guess I can’t make myself invisible, but at least I can prevent them from shooting me, so I guess that counts. August closed the distance to the transport access ramp and walked on board; he could feel the surprise of the guards as he leisurely strolled past them. Once he was on board, he went for the hatch to the pilot’s compartment but he never made it there.

Three steps inside the transport, his world became pain and darkness.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Jan 11, 2022
• ISBN: 9781471767609

Book preview

Inhale, Exhale

He sighed with anticipated pleasure as she leaned into him. How do you do that? he whispered; her limbs intertwined with his.

"This?" she giggled as her form melted into his, he felt her shivering with delight.

"I want it to happen, then it does. It is like walking or breathing." she softly nibbled at his neck, teasing him as only she knew how to.

He closed his eyes and focused on his paralyzed form. Wanting — no — willing it to obey his demands.

"See, Heart?" Her voice gently nudged its way past his focus and caressed his mind.

He opened his eyes and saw his hand gently moving down her naked back.

She moved in closer to him, her lips dropping just short of his. "Follow your heart, my love." her hoarse whisper, laden with desire, edged him on.

He took control, forcing his paralyzed form to obey his will.

He leaned forward — just enough to taste her.

Blue, with a hint of fresh summer rain, washed across his mind.

She groaned, a low, feline purr emanated from her.

"Perfect," he sighed as he returned to his rigid form.

I told you that you were more than a 'path. her voice was overflowing with both the joy of being right and the success of his accomplishment.

He looked at her — or rather, her mental form — as she returned her almost liquid body to a humanoid shape.

"Now you can come to me. I'd like to meet you in the physical world."

"I'm always here, remember?" he said sourly.

"Not if you wake up." Her smile was tugging at his heartstrings. "I have to go now; I will see you soon, dear heart." She waved at him.

"June, wait." He reached out for her as she broke the connection. Frantically, he searched the Mindspace for her essence, but it was empty. His own black-lemon flavour was all he could find.

He had to find her.

"Wake up," he told himself.

He focused his mind on his physical form, searching the void for the home of his thoughts.

"Wake UP." The stern repetition stirred something familiar.

"WAKE UP!" Apparently screaming at the top of his mental capacity gave him an anchor point. He focused on the point and rushed to reach it.

Oh, look — it's 'diaper change for Dumbass’ o'clock. The voice rang through the room and pierced his ears. The nuisance that he was in the life of the speaker was tangible.

Yeah, another equally annoyed voice replied. I don't get why they spend resources keeping him alive either.

Maybe it's to have spare organs on hand. Prison planets don't get regrowth tech, remember?

Maybe. Let's just get this over with. Meredith is waiting for me on the third floor. The first speaker's mind shouted his arousal into the room.

Do you plan to breed your way through the entire hospital before you get sentenced? The second speaker, also a male, didn't project his emotions but his voice was rich in envy.

Look, this godforsaken rock will be a prison colony until there are three generations of natives. I, for one, plan on doing my part to get my citizenship back before my sentencing.

This guy is a native — it says so in his chart.

Yeah, well. Dumbass here kept hanging out with convicts. Someone got sentenced and he was in the middle of it.

The busy one had had enough. Just leave him — we'll change him tomorrow. See you later, Dumbass. Don't go anywhere.

The two men left, laughing. He followed the projected arousal as far as the third floor, where it entered an empty room and immediately engaged in vigorous fornication.

He dragged his mind back to his non-responsive body, focusing on getting some form of reaction from the comatose physique.

The only reply was pain. He shut out the signals and focused on his heart. It was a steady rhythm that matched the beep emanating from a nearby machine in almost perfect sync.

After a short while, someone entered the room.

Ah, Mr. Selvin. It is time for your physical examination. The mind of the doctor didn't project anything; it felt like staring at a wall.

He reached out, touched the mind-wall with his mental focus, and established a connection.

"Be careful, Doc," he said with a gentle touch to his mental voice. "They didn't change the diaper."

What? The doctor reared back and frantically searched the room for the source of the voice in his head.

"Put your hands over your ears." The physician complied. "See how that changes nothing? I am speaking directly to your mind."

He lifted the doctor's name from his mind as the man spun around to flee the room.

When you're ready, Dr. Minch Palroy, MD. I'll be here, waiting. He let go of the connection and returned to focus on his heart.

Three bouts of sleep and a lot of mind-mapping his organs later, the doctor returned.

H-hello? Palroy shut the door behind him and carefully stepped into the room. Are you here? His tone was the only medium that conveyed his curiosity. The mental wall was firmly in place.

"I am." Establishing the connection was easier when the doctor was a willing participant.

Who are you? The question seemed genuine.

You're looking at me. His voice was patient and he did his best to emanate calm/peace/friendship

You're… Dave?

"Dave, he thought to himself. My name is Dave — Dave Selvin."

Yes.

Unbelievable. Dr. Palroy walked over to the bed and looked down at the body.

A young adult male with brown hair and a patchy, early-growth beard lay before the doctor. The torso was riddled with sensors for monitoring the heart, blood, and other vitals. The right arm contained an IV line to feed nutrients and medication into the system, and the face was obscured by the hoses that connected the lungs to the ventilator machine.

I thought he was crazy.

"Who?"

Your father. Palroy sat down in the visitor’s chair. The last time we spoke, he asked me to help you — to keep you safe.

"Why?"

Palroy looked at Dave's face and sighed.

Your father was a convicted pirate. He was the only man here who didn't claim to be innocent. But the way he robbed the ships is what made him unusual.

Palroy leaned forward and for a short moment his mental wall wavered, just enough to let slip how impressed he had been with Dave's father.

He simply walked in, took what he wanted, and walked out again, carrying his spoils. It was as if the crew didn't see him.

So how did he get caught?

"Apparently CCTV could spot him. One captain locked him in a room and showed the feed to the authorities."

The doctor leaned back in his chair. I suspected that he had psychic abilities, but Psions are just ghost stories, right? And now you’re here, talking to me… in my mind.

Yes.

This is not good. Palroy suddenly sounded worried. Dave noticed that the doctor’s mental colouration shifted from grey to a worried murky-purple.

You’ve been comatose for two years. If you suddenly recover, there will be questions. He began pacing the tiny room.

Then he stopped and looked at the young man in the bed in front of him. Can you breathe on your own?

I don’t know. When I tried to sense my throat all I got was pain. I didn’t explore further down that path.

Palroy offered a smile. Yes, the intubation does that. Let’s see if we can do something about the pain. He walked up to the side of the pillow and grabbed the pipe that ran into the throat of the body.

This will be unpleasant and you will be sore after. It kind of comes with intubation. He then deflated the little bag that held the tube in place in the mouth.

On three, try to cough. One, two, three! On cue, the doctor pulled the tube out of his lungs and Dave’s body immediately began contracting in heavy spams.

He broke the connection to Palroy. "Breathe," he told himself. By focusing on his diaphragm, he managed to contract the muscle, pushing air out of his lungs then he was able to release it, pulling it down into the original position as his lungs expanded and the spasms stopped. Oxygen flowed into his bloodstream. He remembered the rhythm from the lung machine’s bellows and maintained it.

After a short while, he no longer needed to focus on breathing. His body naturally took over.

Palroy stood next to the bed, tube in hand, and stared open-mouthed at Dave.

Are you ok? The doctor's voice was faint, his mental state wide open, overflowing with the possibility that he had just extubated a potentially comatose patient based on just a voice in his head.

I’m ok. I just had to teach myself how to breathe again. I’m fine.

Palroy gave off a relieved sigh. Ok, then. Then we move on with the plan.

What plan? Dave was trying not to sound confused, but his mind voice was quicker than his impulse control.

Tonight, Mr. Selvin, you die.

What’s in a name?

When Dave regained consciousness, he was on a boat, judging by the gentle sound of the soft lull as waves nudged the side of the hull.

He tried opening his eyes, but it seemed like his entire body had forgotten how it was supposed to function. At least he had control over his breathing and as long as his heart received oxygen rich blood, it kept beating. The steady rhythm gave him an estimated timeframe for the journey.

He passed time by mapping the muscles in his face and using his mental capabilities to manipulate each one in turn, until they responded to his intentions automatically.

"Am I manipulating a non-responsive body, or am I reminding it how it is supposed to work?" The question bounced around in his head as his neck fell into line with the other working muscle groups.

An estimated three hours later Palroy came down into the cabin.

You're awake, good. We've arrived. It's time to get you off this boat.

"Ok." Dave sat up, it was a somewhat mechanical motion, but he was upright in the bunk and the doctor placed his arm over his shoulder and hoisted him to a standing position.

All right, let's get you on the sand-side of this little adventure. He said as they climbed the three steps out of the small sailboat, onto the aft deck.

From the deck of the boat, Dave could see the small cottage; it was placed just above the high-tide line and stood on poles, a good meter above ground. From the porch a boardwalk extended itself across the sand and far enough out into the ocean to allow for the sailboat he was in to moor comfortably.

They headed into the cottage, where Palroy deposited Dave on a futon.

"So, what now?"

Now you need to get yourself moving again. Palroy shuffled into the small kitchen that lined the northern wall of the small cottage.

And you will have to pick a new name, he added with an apologetic tone.

"Why?"

Because Dave Selvin died in the hospital and you need an identity.

An identity. He thought to himself. I just recently remembered my own name and now I have to pick a new one?

August, August Void.

That was quick. May I ask why you picked that specific name?

"August follows June, but not too close."

You lost me. Palroy had begun preparing a meal, his chopping motion on the wooden board presented an easy staccato rhythm.

"I was lost. Floating in Mindspace, a rigid form, with no interactive capabilities. June found me, taught me how to use telepathy to communicate, to read minds and to sense motives. She taught me how invasive you can be without damaging a mind and how to path to those who don’t have the ability."

August righted himself on the futon and turned his head to look at Palroy. "She also showed me how to move in Mindspace and said that I was more than a ‘path." His face contorted into a crude mimic of his mental anguish.

"I have to find her; she must show me what that ‘more’ is."

That Palroy emptied the chopping board onto a pan; the vegetable mix immediately began sizzling is going to be a problem.

"Why?"

This is a prison planet. Everyone here has been judged and found guilty of a crime… speaking of, you’ll have to pick one.

"A crime? Why?"

So I can get you a new identity, we aren’t allowed access to the advanced technologies of the free citizens. Hell, the only reason we have electrically powered transports and Low-Geiger generators is that once there have been three generations of native citizens on the planet, it is converted to a colony.

"And they want the colony to have a clean atmosphere?"

Exactly. Anyhow. Due to the paper status of the planet, forging an identity is easy, for a convict. It is impossible for a citizen. Dave Selvin was a citizen, but August Void is a convict. He stirred the content of the pan; the delicious scent of freshly fried vegetables permeated the air in the small cottage.

"Piracy."

You want to be a pirate?

"My father was a pirate and since I cannot carry his name, I’ll carry his judgment instead."

How noble of you. The sarcasm emanated from Palroy’s mind, well past his mental wall. Dinner is ready.

The two men sat in silence, August ate his food with slow, mechanical movements, while Palroy sat, fork in hand, and watched with a fascinated expression.

"What?" August’s mind tone was tinged with a sour/crimson tone of confusion.

Three days ago, you were comatose. Now you’re sitting on my futon, eating. I’m sorry, August, but even for a miracle recovery in a citizen world, that would be fast. Palroy leaned back on his chair. I guess I am just fascinated, that is all.

"I am just reminding my body how it is supposed to work." He kept eating, his stomach eagerly receiving the first actual meal in years.

Yes… I’m not sure that is how it is supposed to work. Palroy got up and dragged a medical textbook off one of the shelves on the wall and began leafing through it.

"You said getting to June would be a problem, why?"

Like I said, this is a prison. The only ships we ever get to see are dropping off prisoners, and brimming with armed guards.

"Are they hard to find?"

No, we get advanced warning that a ship is coming, so that we can clear the landing area and set up a safety perimeter.

"You’re helping the guards?"

No, we’re helping ourselves. In the beginning, on this world, the convicts would storm the transports. The guards simply just opened fire. We lost so many valuable people: Masons, teachers, craftsmen. Now we set up a perimeter so people don’t accidentally walk into the Killzone.

"Everyone is important then?"

Everyone with a skillset we need is important. I’m afraid that a pirate like August Void is not.

"So I can leave?" August finished his meal and looked at the bookshelf.

Not until you’ve learned the skills a pirate needs: Astronavigation, ship controls, weapon handling and maintenance. The list goes on.

August looked at the doctor. "Where can I learn these things?"

There is a citizen library in New Alcatraz, I can get someone to pick up a couple of books each week. That will give you something to do while I’m working. This is my holiday home, so no one should find you here.

"May I see the book?"

Of course, it doesn’t say anything about how comatose patients regain their motor skills, though.

"But it does describe the body and its functions."

Yes it does. Palroy handed the book over to the young man in front of him and headed out the door. I have to go, there is ready made food in the freezer, just heat it in the oven. Make yourself at home, I’ll be back in a couple of days or so.

"Enjoy."

Two days later, a drone dropped off a parcel on the boardwalk. As August went out to see what it was, the drone retreated out into the horizon.

Back inside the cottage, August opened the parcel and read the letter that lay on top of a stack of books inside it.

‘Here you go, I’ll be delayed a bit longer so I thought I’d send you these to keep you occupied. Unfortunately, no weapons for convicts.

- Palroy’

He read some of the titles out loud.

Human Mus-cu-lar An-a-to-my, As-t-ro N-n-na-avi-gation f-for b-b-be-ginners.

Oh great, I have a stutter. That is going to be a pain to deal with. August thought to himself.

First steps

August was seated on the porch, reading, when Palroy’s small boat returned. The ‘slight delay’ had been a four week ordeal. He watched the doctor unload fresh supplies from the boat onto the pier and waved at him as he began walking towards the cottage.

As Palroy spotted him, he stopped, mid-step, and dropped the boxes he was carrying.

"What?" August projected to his host, but received no reply from behind the mindwall.

A shiver visibly ran through Palroy’s body before he took a single step forward and stopped again.

"Let me help you with that." August lifted the boxes and brought them past the doctor and into the cottage where he placed them on the kitchen table.

I… You… I… Palroy was visibly flustered. You’re reading.

Yup.

And eating.

"Yes?"

Simultaneously!

I c-c-can also t-t-talk. August followed the first sentence he could remember saying to another human up with a broad smile.

Palroy was still on the boardwalk, where he sat down and took a deep breath. I thought you were ‘just’ a telepath.

August took another mouthful from the fork. "What do you mean?"

You have both hands on the book and just took a bite off a fork. Palroy pointed at the utensil which was hovering next to a plate of fried fish, a good meter away from  August and positioned to not be in his visible field. Not to mention that you just hauled three weeks of canned goods into the kitchen without leaving the deckchair.

"Well, this way I can get more reading done." August flipped the page, looked at it and then flipped it again.

That is not reading, that is flipping pages. If you are serious about getting off this planet, you need to study. Palroy sounded irritated.

August lifted the book over to Palroy. "I’ve read it ten times; I’m just verifying my knowledge. Go ahead, name a page, line and the number word you want."

Palroy hesitated, then he grabbed the anatomy book, opened it on a random page and jabbed a finger blindly onto the paper. Page 389, line 22, word 4.

"Ligament." The answer came promptly.

Remarkable, eidetic memory. Palroy got up and motioned to hand the book back. It released from his grip and hovered a bit, then it floated over to August and rested itself on the pile next to the deckchair.

"I’ve also been fishing." The plate bobbed a bit up