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"The Agency: Meeting of Souls "Written By: Karina Pairings 13x6 [eventual], 5xS, 3x4, Others undecided at this time. Warnings: Extreme Alternate Universe setting. Unbetaed, Aussie spelling and grammar, not much else in the early chapters though it will involve murder, stalking and possibly some colourful language down the track. Some Out Of Character depictions are unavoidable considering the alternate universe setting. Rating: M [In Australia that would be mature adult 15+] Not sure with the new rating system about international ratings. Rated for violence and language and adult concepts. Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. That's about as plain as you could say it. Summary: The world took a very different turn with the acknowledgement of psychic abilities and training of select psychic individuals enlisted in elite fields such as law enforcement and politics. A grading system for the strength of psionic abilities was developed and those who were the top of the elite have been dubbed Prime Talents and are highly sought after. Elite institutions have been developed to mark, train and employ individuals with useable psionic talents. The colonies of canon Gundam Wing do exist in this fic and were constructed before the psionic system was founded. With the advent of psionics in open use in society younger people are appearing in positions of power as they are awakening to their abilities earlier and are highly trained in their fields of expertise. Archive: Gundam Wing Universe [gundam-wing-universe.net]
//…// Thoughts
Chapter 33 Everything around him looked so normal, so innocent, defying the alarm running through body and mind. Treize stepped to the side, firmly planting his back against the broad protection of an old oak tree. Instinct screamed at him to protect himself physically, warning of his proximity to life threatening danger. The crawling sensation running up his spine was enough to set him to fortifying his shields against any potential mental intrusion as he flattened his back against the comforting solidity of the oak's trunk. The itch crawling along his nerves had nothing to do with an itch a simple scratch could cure, and everything to do with an instinctive adrenaline surge spiking in reaction to sensed danger. Treize was no clairvoyant talent, but he knew when to follow his instincts; said instincts had not yet let him down. Somewhere in his vicinity, within the park's boundaries or very near to the park, was the source of that signature talent. The mental flavour was unmistakable once it had been isolated, and Treize would know it anywhere. If he could, here and now, pin point the man's location and trace the touch to a single individual.. . Knowing the enemy would be a huge advantage in this investigation. It was dark, the sun having set long ago and most people were heading home, the park beginning to empty. The low life of humanity that haunted every city with the coming of night had not yet come out to mark the world with their personal attitude and he had a chance of catching the killer before he could strike again in this transition between the two faces of the city. If he could separate that signature consciousness from the innocents in the park and its surrounds, before the killer could move on, then they could resolve the matter at Tsuberov with commendable speed. This could be the perfect time and place for such a thing to be resolved, namely well away from the students of Tsuberov… if his target would cooperate, of course. Resting his head back against the rough bark of the tree he narrowed his eyes, not daring to close them in his current circumstance. His assigned bodyguard was close, he could sense them without any difficulty, but he was not inclined to open himself to physical retaliation, and he was as disinclined to have his guard injured as he was to suffer injury himself. In the space of three measured breaths he took himself to working level and granted himself a moment to settle his perceptions. He could not afford to let this opportunity lapse. These were hardly ideal working conditions, but one had to take what one was presented with and do the best one could. If he did not act with all speed they would miss the opportunity and who knew what could result from that? People could die, at the least suffer injury, if he let this chance slip away. If he thought the killer was too unstable to bring down here and now, then the least he could do would be to set a trace in place. He was not out to endanger the good citizens of the city by `jumping' a mentally disturbed, high talent Psi. It would be far better for all parties concerned, and infinitely more responsible of him, to set the trace and wait, following that contact until they had their target away from the metropolis to a more isolated and manageable location. He could set a discrete trace easily enough, and he should have more than a light enough touch to do so and keep his target unaware of his presence. Discretion was called for with so many people around them. The last thing they needed was to initiate a psychic duel that could all too easily spill over to bystanders with potentially fatal results. He was confident the killer would lose what little control he had very quickly should he be pushed. The paperwork would be horrendous. Cautiously Treize extended the lightest of touches, sweeping across the minds of those individuals he detected in his immediate vicinity. He was not interested in reading their thoughts, merely lightly touching their minds and determining their individual psychic `flavours'. No one should know of his psychic presence, and if they `felt' him they would have to be psychic themselves; and a high level talent to boot. Considering who his target was, namely a stalker and murderer who killed using psi talent, he was careful to maintain the lightest of touches possible to negate the chances of being detected. The sweep extended further, a gradually circling arc about him, extending wider and further as the seconds passed in search of that unmistakable mind. Fleeting as the contact had been he had recognized the individual mind, though now he could not detect a trace of its presence. The killer was shielding, he decided, but his blood and bones screamed at him that he was in a dangerous situation and that danger was immediate and nearby. This man who eluded him had murdered once already, his victim a man whose reasons for being in that particular suite was as unknown as his killer's reasons for being there. More so, actually, given Treize was sure the killer was stalking one of the three students with amorous intent. If that presumption was correct and he was infatuated with one of the three, then might it be possible the victim had said or done something which his killer had considered enough to mark him as a threat? The first kill had been quick and clean, and that was dangerous for the investigators. The murderer could get a taste for killing when it left no evidence in its wake; no clues for the authorities to hunt down. Psi crime was a rising problem the law enforcement agencies of the world were beginning to realize required specialist teams to investigate. For the moment the Agency was largely filling that role, but slowly the police of various countries were acquiring teams of psi's incorporated into their more mundane investigative units. It was a growing fact of life, the influence of psychics in the world, and slowly the basic structure of civilization was changing to cater to the flow on results of psi influence. He was not here. Treize opened his eyes and stared balefully at the lake. Most annoying. Either he had incredible shields which were impervious to detection, an impossibility in Treize's opinion, or the man was no longer in the immediate vicinity of the park. Impossible as he considered it he could not dismiss the possibility, which meant anyone in his immediate vicinity could be the target and, therefore, had to be treated accordingly. It might be anyone. Any one of the five young men jogging together along the foreshore of the lake, the older man tossing a ball for his dog, or perhaps the man collecting the sail boat model from the lake. It could be the teenager wearing headphones with his head stuck in a book under the street light, or any one of seven young men he sensed sharing lovers whispers with their partners… or the lucky gay couple making out under the bridge where they thought they had privacy. It could be any one of them. What to do? He took the time to carefully survey his surroundings and a slow smile curved his lips. Perfect. Just the perfect solution he needed, though certain people would certainly not bless him when they were assigned to the task. Glancing at his watch he noted the time and considered how long would be best to allow for the task at hand. The park was covered with dozens of CCTV cameras covering every entrance to the park and most of the footpaths and lawns. If the Agency pulled the recordings for the park for the last hour and assigned a team to the task of identification, then it could work very much in their favour. If they could identify every male between the ages of sixteen and sixty, perhaps seventy, then they would be able to narrow down the search for the killer from the five odd million males occupying the city to at best a few hundred individuals. It was hardly an ideal solution, of course, but given the circumstances it was the best they had; and that was more than they had had a few minutes ago. Time heavy and manpower intensive, but this was a murder investigation with high profile individuals involved. Their list of suspects could be narrowed down considerably by cross referencing those faces with everyone who had access to Tsuberov's grounds. Treize relaxed back against the tree once again and extended a light touch. Just one final check to ensure he was not mistaken and he had indeed lost the killer by arriving just those few minutes too late to positively identify him. He turned his attention to studying the memory of that fleeting contact, seeking some clue within it to help identify the individual. There had been an element of pain underlying the fleeting contact; no doubt that sourced from the mental dummy spit in the dorm suite. Quite a spectacular tantrum and clear warning of how unstable the individual was at the present time. Treize wanted him restrained as quickly as possible and he was afraid Gabriella might not be too happy with how he suspected the result of this investigation would conclude. The old Prime would want to handle the killer with kid gloves and, while Treize agreed he needed to be handled carefully, he was already of the opinion the man was beyond help. Gabriella would want to save him, to heal him and determine the extent of his abilities, making him a useful part of society; under her wing, of course. If the killer could not be contained, and his instability controlled; his talent harnessed then… No, Gabriella would not be pleased, but the simple truth was they could not afford to have an insane Prime level psychic running amuck. The degree of psychic discomfort he detected in that brief contact was more than a trifle disturbing, Treize mused. Following the tantrum, with the kind of damage that had been done, and having scanned the room for the residue after the incident, Treize would have expected the perpetrator to have gone to ground for upwards of two weeks, perhaps longer. That kind of discharge of mental energy was not something anyone should be able to throw off in a night or two. The discharge of energy should have totally incapacitated the user, yet Treize had touched his mind in the park only days after the incident. Even in a best case scenario the man should not be out and about in so few days, his mind should be more than simply tender for weeks. Treize was of the opinion he doubted the killer was stable enough to know to rest and keep a low profile while in a delicate condition, and it raised an unpleasant possibility. He was certain this powerful developing psychic was both untrained and ungoverned. There was no suggestion of a trained discipline in the mind he had touched. This was a feral child, someone whose burgeoning talent developed without guidance and discipline, and who was governed by his volatile emotions. Dangerous to everyone about him. What was equally worrying was why he was capable of moving around merely days after the incident. Either the killer had an incredible tolerance for pain, or the man had to be taking chemical aids to subdue the effects of the tantrum. Or he had developed some type of healing ability. //Stop turning the bastard into a super psi!// Treize admonished himself. //That's the last thing you need, you idiot. Healing on top of everything else? I sincerely hope not!// He had already shown more psi potential than anyone else Treize had come into contact with, who had not studied for years to train and refine their talent. They did not need a super psi with killer tendencies running loose in society. In this kind of situation Treize was heartbreakingly aware that the man, whoever he was, would undoubtedly kill again. Whether he intended to or not. It was apparent the man had no formal training in the use of talent, or in anything remotely resembling self discipline. Too often Treize had come across people who had little in the way of self restraint and this person was becoming more unstable by the day, psychologically, and the burgeoning psi ability was not improving matters. If the psychic talent manifesting itself was chemically generated through the use of banned substances, then the likelihood of there being no training at all backing his talent was multiplied a hundred fold; and the danger likewise. It was frightening, and Treize knew enough to admit he was afraid. The killer was a walking time bomb. Already mentally unstable if he began to feel inadequate, or suspected his identity might be known at any time… the danger of him losing whatever control he had was immense. He could explode into a maelstrom of kinetic force capable of wreaking as much, if not more, damage to buildings and people in his vicinity as he had already demonstrated. Thinking his freedom and/or his life might be threatened, the killer might well have the potential to step up a grade in his already formidable talent and inflict even more damage. And if all of that kinetic potential was not frightening enough, there was the even more volatile potential of his empathic and telepathic talents running wild. If he lost himself and struck back in fear and anger he could potentially take out entire city blocks of citizens. The authorities would be left to clean up the mess; dead and injured people and sections of the city resembling the catastrophic damage of a particularly disastrous earthquake. That, of course, was the worst case scenario; the loss of all control, little as that was if Treize's suspicion was true. It would be like a Prime T/E talent on overdrive, perhaps worse given the man had unknown, artificially induced abilities. Some few citizens might be saved, but most would have their minds burned out by psi run rampant, and those who survived immediate and painful death would sustain physical damage to their brains, the bulk of which could never be treated. Quite frankly, the potential for disaster in this case frightened Treize on levels he had never entertained fear on before. He had barely scratched the surface of his target's potential and having touched the residue of emotions in the dormitory suite, he knew more than anyone what the killer was capable of. Tell them as he might, he could never be certain anyone else would understand the severity of the threat walking amongst them. Some things you had to see, experience, for yourself before you could believe. //We will probably need to kill him. If he cracks…// God, he could hear Gabriella now. She would want to do everything they were capable of to bring him to heel and repair the damage the chemicals had inflicted on him physically. If, after that, he was found to be still psi active then she would wish him trained to the exacting standards she demanded of her protégé's. //I feel sorry for him already.// But it might not get that far. In fact it was likely to get no further than perhaps sixty seconds after a face to face confrontation began. Given his mental instability Treize expected there would be very little talking. Yes, it was far better, if the opportunity presented itself, to take him down from a distance using tranquilizers; then and only then in his opinion, Gabriella might have her chance to effect healing and reform. Just how did you begin to tame a talent such as that? Purely artificially induced psi talent. No training. No control to speak of. Anything could trigger a fight with such an individual. //There would be no choice but to take him down from a distance, and not with tranquilizers. Gabriella would not like that.// Sometimes one simply had to admit what one wanted in life was not possible and Gabriella, if nothing else, was a realist when it came to the crunch. If it came to a confrontation where all was lost then she would probably take the man down herself, if she chanced to be in the vicinity when their options ran out. Treize would endeavour to ensure that did not eventuate. He wanted the old Prime safely clear of trouble. The greatest problem with that, of course, was Gabriella and her independent streak. She would not willingly make herself scarce. They knew too little of the drugs currently circulating on the black market to enhance a person's psychic potential. The drugs used to enhance the killer in this case, would be sure to be black market chemicals. Cocktails of volatile genetic enhancement drugs banned for unacceptable side effects, both on the physical body and a man's mind, circulated in select quarters available to anyone who had the financing to step in to the elite market. The market in such banned and controversial chemicals was thriving, despite the best efforts of the law enforcement agencies. Their target had to have access to a fair sized credit balance to afford the drugs in the first place. There were so many questions yet to be answered about this case and the drugs was only one aspect of the entire puzzle. Where did he get his supply of the enhancement drugs? Were the drugs being used required to be taken as a one off, or a limited but set dosage over a course of treatment? Perhaps the regular use of psi required a regular dosage be taken to maintain the level of psi talent it induced? If the drugs being used should be discontinued would the user lose the psi talent and, if so, how long might it take for his abilities to diminish to non lethal levels? If not, if the user was forever after psi active, then would his psi potential at the least be reduced and, if so, by how much? Too many questions, the answers to which could affect how they handled the individual. Was that their best hope? By taking the drugs away, by cutting off his supply, might they limit him and contain him to the point where his talent, should it still exist, could be controlled, trained and developed safely for the good of all? Was it already too late for that? Treize was the only one who had had any form of direct contact with the killer and in his opinion they were not going to be able to handle the man. Though Gabriella had `looked' at that contact by linking with him, she had not had the benefit of his first hand reactions to the psi impressions he'd encountered. He was afraid and very much against trying to salvage the killer and Gabriella, in her grey haired wisdom, was all for saving the man. She had privately informed Treize he was too young to accurately judge the man and she thought there was hope. Was it too late? Was he or Gabriella right? Was he over thinking the dangers? Possibly. Was Gabriella too focused on salvaging the man and proving to someone, herself or others in high places Treize did not want to know about, that even those who used artificial means to stimulate their potential could be of use to society? Well, that was a good question and one he was not prepared to answer in public as yet. //However… I think it is too late. She might not want to hear it, but I honestly do think it is too late to save him. But it is not just this one man that we need concern ourselves with. It is not just him who is our problem. How many other people are there out there who might be users? Is it too late to save all of them? Is this a new chemical cocktail with its own unique characteristics, or do we know something of the chemicals they are using? Without a sample there is no way we can point the finger at a single specific chemical, or at a combination of chemicals. This illegal drug trade in psi stimulants has to be stamped out.// And he was wasting time. He should have issued his instructions and be on his way to his apartment and a decent meal, then a session of exploring just what Marquise had done to his shields and expanding on it. The younger man had quite a way with shields; and might it be possible for him to be of help to them in containing the killer? Treize shied away from that thought. For all he knew Marquise might be the target of the killer's obsession. No, for purely selfish reasons he wanted that particular young man safely out of harms way. Dynamic shields or not, Marquise did not belong with them while hunting a killer. Eventually, if he should be contracted to the Agency, and only after a period of extensive training, would he be up to facing a killer down. //Never having the need would be better.// There were so many more pleasant things Marquise could be doing than playing hunt the murderer and forcing him, or her, into a box. Treize could think of a number of quite entertaining scenarios… and he dragged his mind out of the gutter quickly. //Work, not play, old son.// Someone had to do something significant to stamp out the illegal trade in psychic performance enhancing drugs. Whilst he knew the matter was under investigation, and there was a growing cooperation between Psi's and the law enforcement agencies of the world, it was no easy thing for any of them to police. Statistics suggested the trade was actually increasing, despite the best efforts of the investigative team to track down the networks spreading them. What did it take to make the breakthrough that would significantly reduce the trade in illicit drugs? Not a bad question and one he would undoubtedly puzzle over as time moved on. He was in law enforcement, after all, though of a private nature, and he had worked with drugs teams in the past. Perhaps the apprehension of the killer he was hunting would be enough to open the doorway to reducing, if not shutting down the trade entirely? The chemicals used in producing psi stimulants were supposed to be strictly controlled substances but every system, he supposed, had its flaws. Incorrect use of the stimulants was a recipe for disaster. Non psi's, particularly teenagers and young adults, wanted to stimulate the Psi cortex and awaken any dormant talents they might possess. It was seen as the `in' thing, to be an accredited psychic. It was 'fashionable' . Where once substances such as heroin, cannabis and assorted hallucinatory drugs were all the rage, now it was the psi stimulants which were being abused; maiming and killing the young who craved to be accepted. The human brain and body could only take so much chemical stimulation and the psi inducer drugs that he knew of were far from safe in the context of their use. Only a select few medical personnel in the ESUN were licensed to handle the chemicals in a medical capacity. There were a growing number of bodies on slabs in morgues around the world because of the incorrect use and abuse of such drugs. The result of overuse, incorrect application or prolonged use of the stimulants was not pretty. From what he had overheard it was not an easy death. //Yuy's people are handling the increase in psi stimulant drug trafficking, but they do not seem to be having a great deal of success.// Not that it was their fault, he mused. The criminal elements running the underworld stretching throughout the ESUN had been quick to see the potential for using psi abilities to protect themselves and their organizations. Treize often found himself wondering how many trained psi's were not government registered and were active in the world, working for the less than reputable of the ESUN's citizenry. The cartels, both on Earth and within the colonies seedier sides, were always on the look out for viable unregistered talents who could be trained to be of use. Running the same thoughts around in his mind, turning them over again and again in the hope some new inspiration would strike, was not getting him home, fed or comfortable. With a succession of staged and timed breaths he brought himself up from working mode and he extended a tendril of thought to his chief bodyguard reporting exactly what had caused their delay. Unwilling to use psi with the possibility of the killer still being in the vicinity, he summoned the man to him, his eyes never faltering in his systematic search of the park and its occupants. The killer had been seeking something… or someone. Who or what it was Treize would likely never know, but for now he could only do what he could, and that was to narrow down the identity of the murderer. With luck, and a good team, they should have a list of names within 24 hours. The time would vary, but with the high profile of the persons involved in the case and Tsuberov itself, he was sure to get that assigned team's complete attention. With the assistance of the computer data bases networked throughout the ESUN, an impossible search a few years ago would now be quite possible. "Sir?" "Call in on a secure line and have the CCTV footage of this park, particularly all access points and the sidewalks flanking it confiscated. I want a team working through the night to put a name to every male face, and then I want those people screened for any ties to Tsuberov. Our murderer was, or is, in the park." A soft whistled breath responded and he knew his desire for discretion was understood. "Can you pinpoint any specific area, sir? I'll have a forensic unit pulled in to investigate the park on the off chance something might be of use in identifying the killer." "No. The contact was brief and whoever he is he has very good natural shields… either that or he was leaving as I was arriving." "I'll have them do what they can at the entrances, then. Other instructions, sir?" "None. I'm heading home for now. See that Commander Une is informed of my request for a surveillance team, I'll not have her getting tetchy about lack of regard for appropriate protocols." The man grinned well aware, as most people working for the Agency were, of the tensions that existed between the Prime and the Operations Officer. The tension had led to interesting gossip in the past and no doubt there would be more gossip in the future. It was never dull working for the Agency. Treize, one final time, set a light scan sweeping across the minds of those in his immediate vicinity, but he failed to detect any trace of his target. Not that he had expected too, but one had to try. It was his job, after all. The night had produced a return on the case, what would be a definitive advancement, and hopefully the next day would bring a winnowing down of the millions of potential suspects to a thousand or so, perhaps as little as a few hundred. The forensic unit would take samples as the park emptied out and would walk through the few remaining individuals with a hand scanner designed to pick up psi potential. The hope that they would find anything was small, but it had to be tried. His walk before dinner, after all, had already produced one surprise from which he expected a great deal of progress to be made. His gaze slowly tracked across the visible aspects of the park. Who was he? Was he still here? He might be that college student walking the bull terrier, perhaps the little old man walking arm in arm with his wife and generating a glowing warmth of love for her that warmed Treize deep within. No, not him. He was too open, too focused on the lady at his side looking up at him with her adoration shining in her face. What he stood witness to, was that same deep and abiding love that he ached to find for himself. One day, surely, but that was not what he should be thinking of. He should not be jealous of the old man and his lady, or of the young couple kissing over by the fountain, who would most likely not settle for each other but move on to other potential partners. Time would take care of that need; he had to have faith in that, particularly as he had set eyes on the one he thought had more than just a little potential to be that warmth to him. "Sir? I have reported in and been assured Commander Une will be notified and, as per your instructions, two teams are being prepared. The forensics unit should arrive within the next twenty minutes and an agent has been dispatched to see about the CCTV footage." "Well enough." Time to go and business had to come before pleasure in this instance, particularly as his interest was involved in the murder inquiry. Someone in that dorm suite was the killer's obsession and no matter which of the three students it was, Treize was determined none of them need endure such attention. "Walk out with me and then you can do your fade into the shadows routine." He grinned at the man's snicker and pushed himself away from the tree trunk. "I admit to being hungry and I think we can forego the rest of my constitutional. " The evening was fast progressing and he had promised Sally he would eat properly and work on his shields, not to mention have a decent rest. No matter how many times he scanned the park he would fail to contact that mind and enough was enough. He loosed a tendril of thought, seeking the mind of the man who commanded his bodyguard and gently pressed to initiate the contact. He was a low level telepath but well trained and he opened to the contact when he felt Treize's probe. "Don't react to the touch. I'm simply using you as camouflage on the odd chance we should be probed by our target on our way out." "Sir." The acknowledgement was easy, the man undisturbed at his contact. He found himself wondering if Une had managed to make it out of the office, or if she had perhaps been called back on receipt of his alert. He could well be Mr. Popularity in the morning and he wondered if he should skip the office all together and head straight for Tsuberov. He would not have wished for her position as head of Operations, being the Agency Prime was trying enough. At least his particular needs gave him an out on occasion. Tucking his hands into the pockets of his coat, an act his family Elders would be horrified to witness, he moved off; the bulk of his bodyguard unseen and unheard surrounding him. Given he still had that annoying prickle coursing up his spine at the unexpected contact, he was thankful to know he was not alone in the park. His current companion could casually leave once they left the park's grounds and assume his usual position; it would look quite natural and be unlikely to draw attention. There was nothing more he could do, and for now being homeward bound and expectations of a decent meal filled his attention. Then he could fulfil that promise to work on his shields. ————————————- Noin stirred as she felt the shift in the angle of the shuttle. They would be on their approach to the terminal and she sighed, straightening in her seat. It had been a pleasant interlude in which she had been able to catch up a little on lost sleep. She had no idea what awaited her in this city, but it was sure to be an adventure best faced with a rested mind. The beauty of her new assignment was that she would be working closely with an organization which was fully psi aware and specialized in training Psi investigators in multiple fields. The Agency was highly dependent on their extensive list of psi active operatives; their agent's talents covered every conceivable talent in the broad spectrum of Psi ability. The beauty of working with them was that she would not have to endure the drama of yet again convincing new colleagues that her specialty was not fraudulent, and that her presence was not a waste of taxpayer's credits. Nor was she out to rip off innocent bystanders by putting them in contact with departed loved ones for monetary gain. She was a working Medium, one of the few individuals with the talent to be accredited with a Prime level ranking in the field. She was not a money grabbing bitch out for all she could get, and she did tend to get a bit tetchy when her ethics were called into question; which seemed to happen all too often. She was heartily tired of the scepticism and outright disbelief she encountered when people learned of her occupation. There were many people who were unable to get over the hurdle that death was not, in fact, the end. Period. So many people professed to believe, even as they scoffed to themselves and thought it all idiocy and a shameless grab for money on her part. Admittedly there were frauds and charlatans out there, too many of them, but she was not one. How many people were of the opinion that dead was dead and that was an end to it? How far from the truth that was. She had learned early in her childhood that being dead did not leave you proof against the curses of confusion, dedication or fear of the unknown. There were so many reasons why someone who died would desperately and stubbornly hold on to the real world, even when they held no corporeal body to bind them to this reality. A true Medium understood there was more to life than the slab of meat that was the human body, and that there was more to death than said body ceasing to function. Guilt was a big one, perhaps the biggest reason, for keeping a soul from passing on to whatever lay beyond the horizon. People insisted on asking her what lay beyond, fully expecting her to know, but Noin had her own fears and beliefs. Her own taboos. Chief amongst her personal taboo's was pursuing the dead who had come to the point where they could move on, letting go of their reasons for lingering. Noin had no desire to explore beyond the physical reality and pass over that horizon. Such was not for her to investigate. In her eyes she was living, breathing flesh, and her soul was firmly anchored to said flesh. She had a deep love and zest for life, and what lay after that life was extinguished would be discovered in the fullness of time. It was not her place to explore beyond the horizon she had glimpsed through the sight of the dead, and she was careful not to cater to misguided curiosity. What lay there was a great adventure, an adventure that, as yet, was not for her. The day would come, in due time, as it must come to everyone, and then she would tread toward that distant horizon and freely seek what lay beyond it; without fear and without regret. That was how it was meant to be and, God willing, that was how it would be. For now, this was her task in life, to be their voice, their channel to the living. Yet another city and another mission that called her and the gift she had been born with; yet another voice she would need to be to set things right and address the balance between the living and the dead. This gift had once been considered a curse when she had not understood its complexities, or its inherent obligations. Those days seemed long ago, though in truth it had not been so long. Beyond the windows she could see the landing lights of the terminal guiding them in. Not long now and she could disembark. Someone would be waiting for her, hopefully to take her to a hotel for the night and then meet her again in the morning. Or, if matters were particularly urgent, she might find herself on her way to the Agency to deal with the matter immediately. When it came to matters of murder there was usually a lost, perhaps angry or even vengeful soul to be touched, soothed and eased into accepting the pathway to that other reality. It depended on the importance of the situation and, given they had called in a Prime level talent, it suggested a serious scenario had arisen. A new serial killer on the loose? She rather hoped not, given the disturbing nature of the case she had so recently completed. To fulfil her obligations she might be called upon to deal with a soul who, in life, had held responsibilities and might consider its duty to the living incomplete. She might be required to deal with a parent, a lover or a husband or wife seeking to deliver a parting message to a loved one. It might be a child; bereft, lost, feeling abandoned. Whoever she was called upon to assist they needed a voice that could be heard that their outstanding issues might be completed to their satisfaction. With that satisfaction they would be released and drift naturally over that distant horizon. She would be their voice and find a welcome sense of purpose in her own life. She stared down at the city lights as the shuttle shuddered; she had flown enough to recognize it as landing gear lowering. Bright lights, blazing into the night, multi coloured jewels. A beacon the flight crew could not miss. Soon enough she would be on the ground and blessedly in the company of people who did not look twice at her from the corner of their eyes. Professional psychics themselves, they would not doubt her abilities. It would be a welcome relief from the sceptics of the world. Working for the Agency would be both a pleasure and a relief, it would almost be like returning home. It was not the first time she had worked for the organization. Whilst it was her first time in this particular city and working for this branch of the organization, she had worked with other operatives on three separate cases in locations around the globe, and not once had her talents been questioned, or her readings called into doubt. There was also the added bonus on this occasion to be considered. All going well, she would make the acquaintance of the Agency's crowning acquirement; she would meet their Prime T/E talent, Treize Khushrenada. Ah yes, she was looking forward to meeting that particular individual. If he met her expectations, and she had heard quite a lot about the personable young Prime and believed she had realistic expectations of him, then he might just be the sire of the first of her offspring. It was doubtful she would be working directly with the Prime, their fields were somewhat different after all, but she should be able to wrangle a meeting during her stay. Enough for her to confirm her thoughts on him, and hopefully enough for her to make a good impression. She had no details of the case she would be working on, but she was sure to have some free time in which she could make some discrete enquiries. A word in just the right ear, perhaps she might even contact a wandering spirit or two to learn more of the man. She would ensure a meeting could be arranged and, be it formal or made to look accidental, she would know if he was the one to sire her child. Such a child would count for both of them and she already knew he had only one child to date. He would likely be receptive to discussions for a contract given the age of his daughter. It was not something she did often, requesting aid from the dead. It was cheating, of course and she tried to be honourable at all times. The dead had their own issues to deal with, but there were a few deceased individuals whom she had assisted over the years that had chosen to linger on this physical plane. If she could contact one and they felt inclined to assist... Well, you never knew, they might find out something she would find both interesting and informative. The sensitivity to be gained from introducing high level psi genes in the fields of empathy and telepathy to a Medium's offspring, had been theorized in select circles to be potentially quite advantageous. Of course before discussions could progress beyond the formative stage they would needed to follow the prerequisites of standard contractual negotiations. They would need to have complex genetic testing performed to ensure the resulting mix of genes would not be a disaster for any potential child they might share. Over sensitivity of any type was a very real problem to be considered with any psi to psi paring. Runaway sensitivity was a disaster to both the physical and mental health of a child, and Prime Talents in particular had to be aware of the dangers to any child they might sire or conceive. The fact the man had a known homosexual orientation was not a problem, in fact it might, if she was lucky, make him that much more approachable to the idea of siring her first child. She herself was undoubtedly bisexual; her parents would be horrified if they knew that little detail, as they insisted on trying to talk her into marriage with the boy down the street, even though she had not been home for quite some time. She loved them dearly, but she could do much better for herself than that particular young man, handsome as he was. Her genes had been mapped as a part of her training, and the genetic markers for sexuality were unmistakable. If she had not been of a mind to believe the genetic markers then she had to believe her personal preferences. She looked at females every bit as often as she admired the male physiology. Life could be funny, she mused. If she had not left that little town in the hills of Italy, then she would probably have married that boy down the street and possibly never have questioned her sexuality; or her future as a housewife. Did she regret the choices she had made in her life which had led to her current placement? Her life was certainly far more complicated than it would have been had she remained in the village, and to be certain there were days when she longed for the simplicity she remembered. But no. The answer was definitely no, she had no regrets. //I don't miss that life. I admit there are days I long for the simpler side; for the quiet days and the people I grew up with, but… I have seen so many wonderful things in the world. Enchanting places, extremely interesting people. My eyes have been opened to the wonders of the world and it has been a good life.// Not that her life was over yet, far from it, but being a Medium she found herself constantly questioning her own life. Everyone died. Usually with little or no warning. Death was an inescapable part of life. She had spoken to so many spirits who lamented the time they had wasted in their life, and it gave rise to the inevitable question of how well she was living her own life. Was she wasting it? Life was such a precious thing, something most people did not appreciate until time ran out. Life held so many treasures to be experienced, and too few people went out each day with their arms and hearts open, minds reaching eagerly to experience its wonders. She had to exercise all caution and not immerse herself in the affairs of the dead to the exclusion of her own life. She was Lucrezia Noin, uniquely Lucrezia, not the spirits she dealt with on a daily basis who would, if they could, live their lives through her. She needed to be firm with the separation between her working life and her life as an individual. Her life was a precious thing. It was the doom of the Medium to forget the natural order. She must never permit herself to forget for an instant that she was Noin, and it was the life of Lucrezia Noin which mattered the most to her. If she found herself losing that perspective then she would need to step away from her work. It would take an extended period of rest, and perhaps a reasonable amount of therapy to recover herself. Only then might she again be of help to the dead, and to the living tied to them. The sudden loss of altitude caused her to wince and she rested her head back against the headrest. They were coming down. She hoped whoever was meeting her would have a care for the time difference and her intense work on the last case. What she would like was to be shown to a hotel, find a decent meal awaiting her there and then luxuriate in a long hot soak in an oversized bath. Oh yes, the utter luxury of the thought almost made her moan at the prospect of a little pampering. Hopefully they would not expect her to leap into the case without the benefit of a decent night's sleep. The landing was one of the rougher ones she had experienced considering the weather looked to be wonderful outside; a clear night with stars visible through the light pollution of the city. She grumbled to herself quietly as the shuttle slowed, the deceleration pushing her forward in her seat, but she was an accomplished traveller and took it in stride. The fight attendant assisted her with gathering her luggage and accompanied her, helping to carrying her bags into the terminal through a connecting tunnel. The rolling walkway took them deeper into the terminal building, delivering her to the VIP lounge and to the operative awaiting her. ————————————————————- Treize sighed softly as he left the park behind him, threading his way through the diminishing crowd of workers making their way home. He was still engaged in convincing himself of the necessity to leave this stage of the search to the team who would be arriving at the far entrance to the park about now. His guard commander inclined his head as he slipped away into the crowd, looking for all the world like a man nodding to a friend and going his own way at the end of a long day. Nothing suspicious or remarkable about that. Treize maintained his contact with the man's mind, making use of the lesser talent to mask his own greater talent until he felt it safe to drop the subterfuge. They had no way of knowing if the killer, who had to be shielding his talent, was still in the immediate vicinity. The prickle up his spine had lessened as they had departed the park, but he was inclined to err on the side of caution. Besides, maintaining the contact permitted him to keep in contact with Turner's mind and informed him when the guard received confirmation of the team's arrival at the park. The confirmation relieved some of his concern, and he forced his attention away from murders and prickly spines that ruined casual walks in parks meant to relax a body. He was looking forward to returning home. First on the agenda would be to order a meal to be delivered to his suite, allowing enough time for him to enjoy a hot shower in the interim. After eating and he was more than passing peckish at the present time, he would get down to the serious business of meditating and working on his shields. He would take the opportunity to do some serious investigation of the work Marquise had done on pulling the tattered shields together into something that was far from flimsy. He hoped to gain some understanding of exactly what the younger man had done, and how he had managed to do what equated to polishing the repairs, not merely effectively stitching gaps together. A nudge at his mind as he approached the Agency offices and he turned his attention to the contact. Turner informed him the CCTV footage was acquired and en route to the Agency for investigation, and a team from the Law Enforcement Office had been assigned to assist in the identification of every male who had entered the park and was caught on camera during the specified time. Treize was satisfied with the response to the contact. For the moment that was all he could do, and it would allow him to concentrate on the necessary personal work to ensure that horror of a woman would get her sticky fingers out of his mind and allow him to work as he saw fit. Work had intruded on his walk in the park where he had simply wished to unwind and enjoy a peaceful interlude... With some quiet and intensely private reflection on exquisite silver blonde perfection and crystal blue eyes, of course. The intrusion of work on that time had left a decidedly discontented feeling, like a bad taste at the back of his mouth which refused to go away, despite the amount of times he swallowed. It took him a few minutes, and came as no small surprise, to realize some of that discontent was not actually his own. Once the realization had struck he was quick to trace the emotion to the awareness… surprisingly from within himself! From within and from another person. He sighed, softly cursing Gabriella and her sticky fingers. She could be a manipulative bitch, although he admitted it might yet prove useful to have this link with Zech Marquise. Should the stalker ever appear near Zechs, with this link tying them Treize was of the opinion he might be able to sense the unique signature of the killer through the younger man's awareness. If he could feel Zechs Marquise was hardly enjoying the dinner he was attending, and was currently having a serious heart to heart with himself over certain details pertaining to his future, then it might well be possible to sense others through the link. Particularly the very distinctive mind of the killer and, with all due care on his part being taken, for Zechs to be unaware of the fact. It was something to consider when he had the chance, Treize mused. He permitted himself the luxury of becoming distracted by the process of how Zechs was resolving the issue of his abhorrence to formal functions and found himself smiling as he followed the quick fire stream of thought. He felt gratified as the young man became aware of his presence, he need not fear being unwelcome, he realized, feeling the flash of pleased content from the younger man. Zechs was quite aware of his presence on a deeper level than his surface thoughts, and he displayed no fear of Treize, or thought he might go deeper into his thought processes. Such delving simply was not polite amidst a telepathic society, and Treize would not think of trespassing without good cause. He felt the momentary flash of thought as Zechs realized he was not wishful thinking the presence of the Prime; his presence in the link was considered more than welcome. The momentary uncertainty was gone like smoke on the wind, replaced by shy welcome and a mental blush as he realized Treize had followed his reasoning and decision to learn how to enjoy these formal gatherings. Treize knew from experience that such formal dinners and socializing in elite circles would be part and parcel of the work that might be required of Zechs at a later time. He himself had attended so many dinner parties, cocktail parties and formal presentations that some days he wondered if he was actually better off working for the Agency and not simply being the Duke Khushrenada. As the Duke his social calendar surely would be no heavier than that required of him in his role as Prime. But no, perish that train of thought. Being Agency Prime was far more interesting than running the family business on a full time basis. Treize stopped in his tracks, hand extended toward the door of his car, eyes widening. Now what had upset his sexy blonde? He received a brief glimpse of blue eyes and darker blonde hair, the surge of emotion he recognized as a deep desire to flee and… What the hell was that he sensed? Confusion abounded within the mind of the younger man and Treize felt Gabriella react even as he focused his attention on Zechs. Her distinctive presence flowed through the shared link, and he could almost hear her `tutting' and `hrumping' at the blossoming chaotic swirl of emotions. Something, or rather someone, had thrown the young man onto the verge of utter mental chaos. It came as something more than merely a shock to feel not only himself, but Gabriella as well, ejected from the merge with all the attention one would give to flicking an insect from one's sleeve. All of the younger man's attention focused on that `someone else'. In the fleeting moment before those diamond hard shields crashed down, muting the contact, Marquise appeared to have very little in the way of coherent thought. Treize and Gabriella were at an advantage in that the Gypsy prime had initiated the binding links and Gabriella was not so easily held at bay. Though muted and unable to do much except watch, he sensed Marquise was trying to deepen his shields and that action was having little to no effect on the chaos building within him. Marquise was desperately trying to shield himself against something from the outside, Treize realised, when the real problem arose from deep within himself. With the advantage of Gabriella's established link, Treize dived for that awareness, gaining a fleeting impression of darkness, of fear in the darkness and panic rising. A sense of... Abandonment… fear of being alone... //Idiot Boy! What is it waiting for you are? Getting your neat arse into gear you will be doing with all immediacy and seeing to my Sexy Boy you will be! Gabriella will be investigating while you will be shifting sexy butt into car!// Treize blinked, shook himself mentally and thrust his hand against the print sensitive pad beneath the handle of the car. The seconds delay for the pad to read his fingerprints and unlock the car seemed interminable, before he could throw himself behind the wheel. t.b.c. Notes Zechs Marquise: Psi Student 5th year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Level 10 Receiving/Projectin g Empath [approaching Prime Designation] + Level 9 Sending /Receiving Telepath, Projected L10 function. Finder function suspected, not officially registered. Country of origin, Luxemburg. [20 years of age] Relena Peacecraft: Sanc. Level 5 Telepathic Send function / Suggestor element Level 6, Receive function Level 3. Projected level Telepathic Send, Level 7, Suggestor Level 8, Receive function Level 5. Initial training Sanc, New Port City. Tsuberov student. First year present, second year study roster. [Age: 17 years] Quatre Rababer Winner: Psi student, 2nd year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Current Level 5 Telepath, projected Level 7, Current Level Receiving Empath 9.3, projected Level 10, Prime. Current Sending Empath Level 2, projected Level 4. Colony of Origin, L4 Cluster [18 years of age] Duo Maxwell: Psi Student , 3rd year at Tsuberov Parapsychic Investigation and University. Level 8 Psychokinetic ability, projected level 9. Sending Telepath Level 5. Colony of Origin L2 Cluster [ 18 years of age] Sweeper adoptee. Under pre contract agreement with Sweepers. Heinrich Otto: Tsuberov University Security Chief. No Psionic talent. Staff Member at Tsuberov for five years. Fitted with a Neural shield implant against telepathic intrusion. Former employment, Sanc Imperial Guard. [35 years of age]. Dean Alexander Hargraves: Dean at Tsuberov University and Parapsychic Institute. Neural Implant. Sending / Receiving Telepath Level 3 |
