Chapter 1.2.34 — Serenity 4

Serenity and Hunter Nine walked into the downtown headquarters of Aquarius Corp. Their boots echoed on the marble like drumbeats, and everyone in the lobby spared a glance at the capes.

Most people only saw capes when they were passing by on patrol or flying high in the sky.

But then it wasn’t often that a company like Aquarius reported a break-in or destruction of property to the Summit of Heroes.

They were greeted in the lobby by the Chief of Security, a neatly trimmed bear of a man, who introduced himself as Clayton and gave them equally strong handshakes. He ushered the heroes to the lobby elevators.

Once the doors closed, Clayton studied the two of them. “Not everything about the break-in was in the briefing. Which one of you is the psychic?”

“That would be me,” Serenity said.

Clayton nodded. “Once we get to the scene, I have to ask that your partner stay behind. The board has requested that certain details are only for Summit leadership.”

Serenity nodded, ignoring Hunter’s grumbling. She was already informed that this investigation would require a debriefing and mind-wipe. “My partner and I understand.”

The elevator doors opened to the 34th floor, and Serenity followed Chief Clayton through the halls. Solid walls gave way to glass, and on the other side were rows and rows of computer servers. The mix of metal and colored wires made Serenity feel like she was walking through a strange aquarium filled with square gravel and strange flora—

Though fish were strangely absent from these rows.

It wasn’t until they had walked to the far side of the floor that Serenity saw any workers. Suddenly, there were schools of them, all wearing white shirts and pocket protectors, mulling around charred up blocks of servers like fish on a reef.

Serenity had read the briefing:

Just an hour ago, an unknown super had entered the Aquarius headquarters, gained access to this floor, and poisoned an employee. Said victim was a technopath super under special employment. The poison was a hallucinogen administered via touch.

Serenity had read the official report several times, and each time she was more certain that this was the same team of supers that orchestrated the downtown attack on Amarque and the Donjon club. They were still waiting on forensics to confirm that the poison was the same, but soon they’d have something even better…

Soon, Serenity would scan the victim, and report back to her boss. Then psychic leaders of the Summit would confirm whether the perpetrator was the same super.

It didn’t matter how good a super was at disguising themself—there was no fooling a psychic.

Chief Clayton led Serenity to a small room toward the end of the floor. He unlocked the door and opened it to reveal a small meeting room. Several security guards leaned against the walls and stared intently at the man sitting alone at the center table.

He was a pudgy, middle-aged man. His eyes were bright, despite the bruise under one of them, and he looked up at Serenity with a hopefulness that pained her. Like a lost puppy hoping to be taken home.

Aquarius’s security had clearly worked him over—

And conveniently left it out in the official report.

Serenity tried to keep a straight face, but it must’ve looked more intimidating than she meant because the man quickly looked back down at the table.

“He’s safe?” Serenity asked.

Beside her, Clayton’s face was truly unreadable. “He’s no danger to you or your phone. Isn’t that right, Mr. Jensen?”

Jensen nodded meekly.

Serenity walked over and took a seat beside him. Jensen seemed surprised at first, but the close proximity forced him to turn and focus on her.

“My name is Serenity, and I’m a psychic from the Summit of Heroes. I know this has been a difficult day, Mr. Jensen, but I need your cooperation for a little while longer. Instead of recounting what happened, I need your permission to read your mind. I would like to see the events through your eyes. Do you understand what I’m asking?”

Jensen nodded, glancing up only briefly. “They—they explained it to me.”

“Good. It’s not painful, but it can be disconcerting. It should only take a minute or two. Do you consent?”

“...Yes.”

Serenity sat back in her chair and tried to relax. The more at ease she was, the less residual transference that Mr. Jensen would feel.

Then she closed her eyes and began.

For a psychic, reading someone’s mind was like turning on the television. Most people appeared only as blank screens until Serenity decided to peer inside someone’s mind.

The real world fell away—

And revealed the digital mindscape beneath.

From there, it was a matter of turning the feed to the correct channel.

Surface level thoughts came easily, like the static that filled all the space between channels and memories. Serenity could’ve sat at this surface level connection and let Mr. Jensen’s immediate thoughts bubble to the surface:

Scared of the super sitting across from him. Worry about his job and whether he’ll get fired from Aquarius. Worry about his family. Sweating. Feeling Awkward. Shame. Regret. Feeling small and powerless. Cog in the machine. Sand beneath the boot.

Some psychics trained themselves to listen to those surface thoughts in a fight—seeing their opponent’s moves before they happened and hearing their plans before they could come to fruition. It was a powerful ability—one that Serenity was still working to master.

But today she pushed past the static.

Surfed the channels. Dove deeper.

In a case like this, searching for the correct channel, the correct memory, was easy. Mr. Jensen was cooperative and the event was fresh in his mind. As soon as Serenity pushed past his surface level thoughts, Jensen’s memory of the incident came to the forefront.

Serenity whispered, “Take me back to when you first saw the suspect. Try to picture them as clearly as you can. Relive your conversation. Show me what happened.” As she spoke, the audible sound of her voice faded away until Serenity was using her telepathy to speak through their connection.

Having been on the receiving end of such a trick, it felt like falling asleep—impossible to know when reality ended and when the dream began.

Serenity saw the Aquarius offices through Mr. Jensen’s eyes…

It was a bit more intricate than merely watching though: Serenity sensed everything just as he did and felt everything just as he did that morning.

Mr. Jensen walked through the server room, greeting Childs and McCleary, who retorted with the same tired jokes about getting close to retirement. Jensen paused just outside the door to pick up his travel mug of coffee. He’d left it there, as per company policy: No liquids in the server room.

He took a sip and lingered in the hall. Jensen wasn’t a praying man, but he muttered aloud his hope for a slow day.

A day he wouldn’t get.

A ping on his work phone brought Jensen back to the moment and summoned him to the front desk of the floor. Jensen swallowed his groan like the twenty-year veteran that he was and walked to the front desk of the 34th floor.

The woman waiting at the front desk made both the attendant and Jensen tense up. She wore a well-tailored pantsuit, and her sharp expression and purposeful gaze combined into the look of someone in upper management.

She didn’t wait for the intern at the front desk to introduce her.

“Are you Jensen?”

Indeed, he was.

She nodded approvingly and cast her gaze down the hall toward the servers. “I’m VP Ramsy. Show me the servers.”

While Jensen quickly examined the badge on the VP’s chest, Serenity examined the suspect’s face and build, trying to take in as many details as possible. The suspect was given only the vaguest of descriptions in the official report, but this had to be them.

Jensen had received a last minute Email giving him the briefest-of-warnings to expect her, and though she looked much younger than Jensen expected, her badge was in order. So Jensen led her to the servers.

While Jensen tried to hide his nerves, Serenity memorized everything she could about the suspect—even though it would be wiped from her memory later.

The suspect’s no-nonsense gaze. The cadence of her walk, and breadth of her shoulders. Her accent that Serenity couldn’t quite place…

By the time they got to the server room, the memory had begun to degrade, like a skipping song or bad data connection.

Now, Serenity worked by feel more than by sight. She waited for the touch that she knew was coming.

It was hidden among the last things that Jensen remembered. The surprising touch of the VP’s fingers on the back of his neck.

And a coy flash of a smile.

~

By the time Serenity came out of her trance, beads of sweat were on both her and Mr. Jensen’s foreheads. Jensen reached up and tentatively wiped his brow, seeming surprised to find the sweat there.

“Is that it?” Jensen asked. “Is it over?”

Serenity nodded, adding, “If done right, you shouldn’t feel anything amiss.”

It was a delicate process for a psychic to delve into the mind or memories of another. Even more so to manipulate those memories.

Altering small details of a memory was difficult enough. Creating a false one was a skill few psychics could claim.

Deleting a memory depended on how willing the subject was. In Mr. Jensen’s case, the hallucinogen had already done much of Serenity’s work for her. Now it was as easy as dusting off a shelf.

Uploading a memory to the resonance crystal back at base was much more painful. As painful as having something torn out of you.

“Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Jensen,” Serenity said. She stood and left the witness wondering to himself about what he really had seen today and how exactly he’d lost control before his technopathy had obliterated half the servers on the floor.

Chief Clayton was waiting at the door.

“He’s clean and ready for release,” Serenity said.

Clayton nodded thanks—the sliver of a gesture was the most that she’d seen his face crack since she’d been there.

“We have the camera footage of the suspect, if you want to see it.”

“We don’t need it,” Serenity said, walking out the door and into the hallway.

She already knew how the rest of the story went.

~ ~ ~