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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 42 Lucrezia Noin looked around her curiously, noting the differences between this the headquarters of the Agency and the regional offices she had previously frequented belonging to the organisation. She had worked with the organisation on past occasions but this was the first time she had received a request for her services from the central office. It might have been the work place of any large business corporation in any one of a dozen major cities across the globe, but many of the workers here were anything other than your standardised pen pushers and numbers junkies. For example, she knew the security guard who had pinned the visitors pass to her lapel was far from the harmless old man he looked to be. Not all employees in the building were psi active, in fact the majority of employees here were most likely not levelled psychics. Of those who were psi active, which could be as few as ten percent of the employees on the payroll, upwards of seventy percent would be low level psi, few of them would be graded to an actual official level. The directions given to her on her check in were precise and a key pass card had been presented to her to grant her access to the elevator that would take her to the appropriate floor. Noin took her time. She had always taken a great deal of pleasure in people watching and it was for more than simply a personal pleasure; the practise assisted her in working with the deceased who became her clients. She had learned early in her training that by gaining an understanding of the habits of the living, one could gain some degree of understanding of the sometimes curious and contradictory behaviour of the dead. Particularly the behaviour of those who were recently deceased and who did not realise, or refused to acknowledge, what had befallen them. Watching how people acted in various emotional states and interacted with each other gave her insights into the smallest muscular twitches; expressions of face and body that betrayed any words that might be spoken and the intentions of the speaker and any listeners. As a general rule of thumb she worked on the principle that the mind, though with a great degree of effort, and the mouth, with far less effort, of any individual could lie; the body, as a whole, could not. A high level telepath would argue the point of the mind lying, but Noin knew of a few individuals with sufficient control of their minds that they could escape psi detection in a bald faced lie, perhaps even deceive a Prime level Telepath. She put her faith in body language. The intricate wonders of the workings of the human body could reveal much more to the astute observer than most people would be comfortable revealing. Of course the dead had no physical form, but there were generally sufficient ties remaining between the deceased's awareness of having a physical form, though it was left behind, for their ghostly appearance to have the odd muscular twitch, lowering, widening or narrowing of the eyes etc. to betray some reaction if pressed. When she exited the elevator on the appropriate floor she become aware of a certain tension in the atmosphere that frankly surprised her. It was far from pleasant and seemed to be emanating from the office she had been directed to. The few people wandering this outer foyer were clearly giving the glass door and window panels cautious looks, though none appeared to be alarmed, as though it was, if not a regular occurrence, then at least nothing to be surprised or alarmed about. Generally a successful business concern could be traced back to office dynamics. People who were content, even happy with their environment and conditions performed better than those who were unhappy about some aspect of their job. Tightening her shields a little Noin flashed her passkey at the doors and slipped into the large work space. The spread of desks with their little cubicle walls was typical of an office set up, though these cubicles seemed rather larger than many companies provided and the walls were lower, not cutting off the workers from each other, merely offering some nominal degree of privacy should they not wish to interact. The colour choice was pleasant and relaxing and there were potted plants in the open spaces and she noted the odd desk boasted plants as well. Personal items decorated desks within her sight and overall she got the impression it was permissible for people to personalise their work space. Yet it was obvious that people were far from relaxed at the moment and the general air about the office was that of something, presumably a disaster of biblical proportions from their expressions, was about to happen. Noin was thankful she was no high level empath given what her telepathy was picking up. To an empath there would probably be a noxious miasma filling the space. Noin was generally an amiable sort, hard to upset and able to roll with the flow as circumstances presented. That was why, when her pre arranged ride to the office had failed to appear at the stated time, she had shrugged and summoned a taxi. The tension in the office suggested that whatever was unfolding might have had something to do with that oversight, not that she minded. Having to make her own way to the office allowed her to see more of the city and to acquaint herself with the feel of the city and its citizens. It had not taken her long to pick up that something was wrong, both in the city's general population and certainly within this particular office in the building. The Agency's headquarters fairly reeked of tension but given the nature of the company's employment that was hardly surprising, however it had been a little more than she was accustomed to expecting when not entering a major cities law enforcement establishment. Police stations of any size and description, in any country on Earth or in the colonies, tended to be emotionally volatile places, but the Agency was not a law enforcement establishment. The closer she had come to this office the more noticeable the tension had become. A spike of raw anger, something more than pure emotion else she would not have sensed it so clearly being a telepath not an empath; a silent to the ears expression but a moment later it was a very vocal snarl she heard from the end office. The office was a sealed off section of the larger room affording privacy to the user and that mental snarl definitely originated from the walled enclosure and necessitated a further tightening of her shields. "Inspector, much as it is an inconvenience to you, I am afraid there is nothing I can do about it. Prime Khushrenada is… indisposed at the present time. I believe that Prime Gabriella will be available later this afternoon, and that she has offered her services to the Agency regarding this matter. I would advise you to discuss with her as to when you might be able to consult with Prime Khushrenada." There was marked sarcasm on the `discuss' and `consult' from the voice issuing from the office. Anne Une, Noin recognised the woman's voice, and the lady sounded anything but amused. Noin made her way slowly closer to the partitioned off area, noting the flinches of some of the workers, guessing that they were the most `sensitive' of the psi active listeners. "Not good enough! This is a criminal investigation and your Prime was on the scene within hours of the murder. I do not need to question a Prime who was not even in the city when the murder took place! I need to question Him, Ms. Une, the Prime who was on the scene! This killer is running loose in my city and he kills in a most abominable manner. Do you want him, a psi killer, running loose?" Ah, so there had been a murder and somehow the Agency was involved. Noin could understand where that might aggravate a few people, and she had heard that Anne Une had a volatile temper. "We have to get this bastard off the streets as quickly as possible! I don't have the time or the inclination to pander to the namby pamby foibles of the pampered, stuck up, better-than-you-peasants nobility! I have a job to do! I have a killer to hunt down. I want to see that Prime and I want to see him NOW!" The bellow and accompanying mental roar laced with rather irrational anger caused Noin to take a step back, away from the office. She sidled closer to the wall, an eyebrow arching as the door to the inner office slammed open. From where she was standing she could see into the room through the glass door and no one had been near the door to open it. A bull necked man with short frizzing hair showing the first signs of balding, suddenly slammed through the opening backwards, his feet scrambling to find purchase on the carpeted floor. He was middle aged, somewhat overweight and wore a suit that looked like it had been slept in and he was emitting waves of negativity, anger and ever rising levels of frustration. Noin tightened her shields a little more, enough to be comfortable but still use her talent. The man stumbled, regained his balance and appeared to push back against an invisible wall that kept him out of the office and appeared, slowly but steadily, to be forcing him, small step by small step, away from the doorway. "That is Commander Une to you, you jumped up pig of a man!" Every eye in the office was now on the altercation taking place and Noin noted more than a few pale faces and fearful glances at the open door. The workers had been tense enough before, but suddenly the fear was spiking and it was easy to pick out the individuals who had some claim to telepathy and particularly to empathy. They were the one's looking decidedly ill. "I could not give a shit about how difficult it is for you to bring to heel a murderer. You are not the only one who wants this arsehole brought down, but even so you do not barge into my office and lambaste me and spread your negativity amongst my staff!" Pure rage dripped from every word issuing from within the office. "The Prime is unavailable at the present time and will remain so until further notice, you moronic little prig. If you have a complaint about that by all means take it up with my superiors! Better yet, I suggest you take it up with Prime Gabriella. I understand she is in transit at the present time and should arrive in another few hours. I have no doubt she will be delighted to rip your innards out and display them for all the world to see under a sign that reads `insensitive pig and incompetent fool'!" Everyone in the larger work space was speedily migrating toward the windows, leaving an obvious, overly wide space between the inner office and the doors leading out into the rest of the building. The diminutive form of Anne Une appeared in the doorway, a furious scowl on her face, her arms crossed beneath her breasts and her eyes behind her glasses were positively shooting flames. The man she glared at so fiercely looked to be pushing forward against an irresistible force that inexorably forced him to retreat, albeit slowly and what looked to be somewhat painfully. His complexion had deepened to beet red, perspiration beading his pudgy features but, regardless, he pushed forward, even whilst slowly but steadily losing ground. "I will indeed be sending a complaint to your superior!" "And I will be sending a complaint to your Superintendent along with the demand you be sent to a novice course on how not to piss off Agency command staff!" Une's voice was at a conversational level now, firm but furious. "Generally it takes only a modicum of polite behaviour to achieve, at least it generally does with me, can't particularly say about any of the others. Be assured we are doing everything we can to track down the party responsible for the atrocity that took place last night. I do not need to be reminded that the perpetrator is a psi active individual." The exit doors to the outer foyer of the floor slammed open without a hand touching them and the man was forced through them. "I am sure we of the Agency can work together with the local law enforcement to make our city streets safe. We have done so successfully in the past and we will continue to do so in the future. Thank you for taking the time to come today to express your concerns which, I assure you, are duly noted and I will thank you to NOT darken my doorstep again!" The doors slammed shut, the glass rattling alarmingly in the aluminium frames and Une glared as the man tried, unsuccessfully, to force the doors open. It took almost two minutes of ranting and ineffectual assaults on the door before the man stormed away toward the elevators and during this time you could have heard a pin drop and hit the carpet. "Jumped up arsehole." Une sneered and spun smartly on her heel. "Get back to work!" A scurry of bodies as people almost fell over each other in their rush to return to their desks resulted and Une stalked toward her office. Noin could almost see the dark aura of the woman's anger as she came abreast of the door and decided that this might not be the best time to request a word. She could always find her own way to the Medical Centre and the corpse she was to interview. "Noin! I saw you lurking. Get in here!" Or maybe not. If nothing else it would prove to be an interesting day and she had dealt with some ill mannered assholes in her past association with law enforcement agencies, so she was not particularly disturbed by Une's aggravation. "Molly get your E cups out from under that desk and get me some coffee!" "Immediately, Commander Une." A breathy but definite squeak emerged from beneath the desk set nearest the inner office. Noin noted a particularly busty brunette crawl out from under the desk and the slender woman hastened toward a credenza, looking like something nasty and exceedingly dangerous was hard on her heels. The office was quickly gaining the subtle noise level she was familiar with in an inner city working environment, though actual speech was hushed and cautious. These people, whilst appearing wary, also appeared to be familiar with such explosive dynamics as she had witnessed. Une was standing at her window glaring out over the cityscape, back ramrod straight and clearly still seething. A chair that had been set against the far wall of the office floated in obvious invitation to settle before the desk and Noin, not wishing to tempt fate, accepted the seat. "My apologies for the scene you just witnessed and for me forgetting about your pick-up. Things have rather deteriorated since I dropped you at your hotel last night." An understatement given that man had clearly been the investigating officer in a murder; from what she had overheard a particularly brutal murder, so it was understandable that emotions might run a little high. "Your services were requested to interview the shade of a murder victim and, hopefully, gain us some needed insight into the manner of his demise. Last night a second murder occurred. This incident was linked to the first death and was… notably worse… than the previous murder. Might we impose on you to attempt to contact the second victim? I will, of course, adjust your commission contract accordingly." "Of course. I will help where I can." Une inhaled sharply and shook her head slightly before slowly exhaling, repeating the action three times, a standard exercise to control her aggravation. "Do not agree too quickly. It was a particularly… brutal assault. Psi based, like the first, but much worse. We have to bring this man down and we need to do it quickly, before he gets a taste for killing." Noin sighed softly, shaking her head. "If it was not an easy death then it is most important that I assist. The victim likely will need my intervention to `move on'. This is what I do, Commander Une; I settle the restless and distressed dead." Une nodded briefly, not arguing with her. They all had their reasons for working where and how they did. "I know you are a reasonably high sending and receiving telepath, but I have to ask, are you a rated empath?" Noin was not phased by the question. If the murder had been brutal the crime scene would be no pleasant thing to look at, but it would be even worse to purely `feel' "Not enough of an empath to be measurable on the Psi Tables. Only marginally more so than a non psi individual." Une looked relieved. "Good. You might survive the crime scene then." A soft tap on the still open door saw the secretary enter with two mugs, placing one on the desk before Noin and the other in front of Une's vacant chair. The woman was obviously not inclined to go near her commander at present. "Your file said black coffee with two sugars, Prime Noin?" "Yes, thank you Molly. I appreciate it." A hesitant smile answered her and with a quick glance at the other woman's stiff back Molly excused herself and the door slammed shut, narrowly missing her heels. After a long moment Une sighed and turned her back to the view returning to her desk and settling, taking up the coffee and inhaling the aroma deeply. "God, it's a mess. A bloody, potentially city wide catastrophe waiting to happen. I'll go over the details of the entire case with you, starting from the beginning and bring you up to date with the latest developments. First I need to warn you that Prime Gabriella is enroute to the city and she will not be in the best of moods. She will be participating in the investigation, there is nothing we can do to keep her out after this, not that I think we have a chance of dealing with this matter without her assistance. I trust you are well aware of her colourful reputation?" "Oh yes." Une opened a draw and drew out a thick folder, setting it before Noin before leaning back in her seat. "The reason the Prime will not be in a sociable frame of mind is because her pet Prime, Treize Khushrenada, was one of the first investigators on the scene of the murder last night. He was also the first empath near the scene. He is now drugged to the eyeballs and under the direct care of Sally Po. She is our resident Psi Medical Officer and received special training to handle a T/E Prime when it was known we were to gain the services of one. The empathic feedback from the murder scene has, to put it mildly, incapacitated the Prime for the present time, but we still have a killer to hunt down and students and citizens to protect." "The murder was bad enough to affect a T/E Prime through his shields?" She could not hide her surprise, past experience having taught her how effective a Prime talents personal shields needed to be. "Unfortunately so. One of the reasons the Inspector was so irascible this morning is because of the effects this particular murder has had on his investigation and forensic teams. He is not a happy man, but he can think twice before taking out his frustrations on my people. Noin, it was a particularly brutal crime. When you read the report you will understand something of the reactions of the people who attended the scene." Noin composed herself, steadying her reaction to the woman's obvious distress and what it suggested she might find when it was her turn to investigate. "If you wish me to work to full effect, I will need to attend the crime scene myself." "I understand and I will assign you a driver and an assistant when you are ready to proceed." The door closed gently behind her. "I assume it would be best to view the area sooner rather than later? For now, I suggest we begin with the report in front of you." ————————- "Good afternoon, Mr. Maxwell." //After… noon? Huh?// It was, without a doubt, way too early for anyone to be interrupting, intruding upon, his much loved downtime. He had no idea at the moment which day of the week it was, but it had to be somewhere near midweek, he would sort that out when he fully woke up, but for now midweek was close enough. Midweek equated, presumably, to Wednesday, again close enough given that his eyelids did not want to lift more than a sliver to stare at the horrendously bright light and have it hurt his brain. //Augh. Pain.// Enough of the light and his eyes blessedly drifted closed, but the damage was done. The thought process, albeit sluggishly, had been initiated. Wednesday, presumably, or was it Thursday? Might have been Tuesday, but… Ugh. Whichever. He had classes to attend and if it was Wednesday then those classes were not electives but basics. Required basic educational classes those at Tsuberov could not afford to miss and that included him. Attendance was mandatory if he wanted to pass with flying colours and get himself a berth on the Sweeper ship he most wanted to join as permanent crew. Howard took only the best of the best and he knew full well if he did not make the grade, genius that he was, he would not be accepted into the crew. To get the grades he needed he had to get the sleep he needed to pay total attention whilst in class. "Mr. Maxwell. It really is time you stirred yourself." Damn, it was hard to think and why the hell was he hearing a voice that was not one he expected to find in his bedroom of all places? Ah. Might he be having a dream? Yeah, he was on the verge of waking up and he had classes to attend, he knew that, so he was introducing, subconsciously, a voice that was designed to wake himself up. Ugh, that was just way too much thinking, and too complex a thought, for this hour of the day. "I have other matters, complex and important work, to attend to today and sitting here babysitting your lazy arse, sir, is not particularly high on my agenda." Hnnn. That voice was familiar and through the haze the thought that the voice somehow constituted authority occurred to him. The voice was undoubtedly familiar to him and it was not the voice he had expected to stir him if he was being just a little tardy about getting up. Of his room-mates, Q, was always much more eloquent, polite to a fault and prone to dragging him out of bed by his feet if he did not respond by the second attempt. Zechsy, well, he was a vicious bastard. He was known to resort to tossing a glass of water in his face if the first attempt failed. With friends like those there was no fear of missing class and they were the only one's who would be in his bedroom trying to roust him out, so therefore he had to be dreaming the annoying as shit voice. Cool. He could continue to ignore it and drift back to sleep. "Mr. Maxwell, your vitals display your proximity to waking, ignoring me will not make me go away. Wake up." "I tried to tell you that would not work with Duo. You have to take a more… hands on approach." Hmmm, now that was a disturbing development. Yeah, okay, not so good. That had sounded more like Quatre, but if that was Quatre then… who was that other voice he was talking to? He acknowledged some sort of vague recognition of the voice, associating it with an authority figure maybe? He had cottonwool stuffing his head and he really would prefer to just settle down and go back to sleep and forget the world existed. Just once he might be a bit late to class… well, if he was honest with himself would it really hurt to maybe actually skip a class? One class missed would not really affect his overall grade and though they might call Howard surely the wily old ship's Captain would not give him a thick ear just for one indiscretion? "Duo! You have until the count of three to get your backside dirt side and allow the technician to give you the once over. If you don't get out you'll get a bucket of water in the face, not just a glass this time. One!" Damn, Zechsy sounded a bit ticked off. "Two!" In fact he sounded down right pissed and the threat, not to mention the rising number count, rang enough warning bells in his fuzzy awareness to force him to pry his eyelids up, wince against the copious quantity of sunlight streaming into his room, and glare blearily about him. "Huh?" "Well, its something at least." Since no `three' accompanied the comment he assumed he was now safe from a sudden, and no doubt icy cold deluge. He scowled, peering up at the man standing closest to his bed for a long moment before recognition filtered into his aching head and gave him cause to deepen the frown he wore into a scowl. "Jonesy?" "That is Professor Jones to you, young man." Professor Jones, his designated training team's chief technician no less. What was the man doing standing over his bed and frowning down at him? Well, he was obviously in the throes of a nightmare… right? He had to be. Jonesy had not haunted his dreams since the first six months of his tenure at Tsuberov and he had gotten over his natural caution of the stick of a man with the too aware hazel eyes who seemed to see right through him. "Huh?" "So eloquent, Mr. Maxwell, but I suppose it is sign enough that you will not be attending any classes today, and will instead be attending me in the laboratory. I will thank you to kindly shift your bones, get dressed and meet us in the lounge. Before we can return to the laboratories you all must eat and time is marching on." "So… what time is it? Ah, and why are you in my room…? Erm, this isn't my room." Duo peered myopically about him, trying to place the rather ornate furnishings until something clicked in recognition. "Oh. The hotel." "Exactly, Mr. Maxwell. You are not quite with us yet, are you? Still, that is nothing a decent meal and a few exercises under supervision will not cure. Come along, gentlemen, we will wait outside for Mr. Maxwell to get his act together." He was vaguely aware of the two much younger men with the professor occupying his room, and both of them let out rather exasperated sounds as the professor motioned toward the general direction of the door. "Only if you want him to go straight back to sleep again." Ah, Zechs did not sound quite so pissed anymore, more exasperated really. "Mr. Marquise, I am sure that at his age Mr. Maxwell is more than capable of getting himself out of bed." The professor, Duo thought, sounded a bit short tempered which was somewhat unusual for Professor Jones, he was generally one of the `better', more likeable Professors at Tsuberov. "With all due respect, Professor Jones, Duo has a habit of dropping off rather easily when he's feeling not quite inclined to get up in the morning. If you would just wait outside I will make certain he gets his act together and favours the bathroom with his presence. Once I can be assured he will not go back to sleep I will join you and Zechs in the lounge." He could feel all of the eyes on him, three pairs of intense eyes, assessing and calculating, but in all honestly he was not particularly fussed. He knew where he was now and he supposed there was a time limit imposed in which to catch their ride to Tsuberov, but it really seemed like such an effort to move. Odd. He felt so lethargic and disinclined to do anything but curl up and enjoy another snooze. Five more minutes would do no harm. "I think… Perhaps you have a point, Mr. Winner. Very well, ensure Mr. Maxwell moves himself this side of the Christmas festivities, if you please. Come along, Mr. Marquise, you and I can spend the time engaging in assessment exercises." Ah, the door closed, wonderful. The thick piled carpet would have silenced their footfall but that just gave him an added degree of peace. Less noise, less disturbance. He could just have a few minutes of resting… "Get up, Duo! We don't have time to waste. I do not particularly want to leave Zechs alone with Professor Jones any longer than I have to." Well that was just right over his head. Why would they not want to remain with their professors? "Huh?" True they could be annoying and no matter how hard you tried it was not easy to get a `Well done' from some of the staff, though his not so reliable at the moment memory suggested Professor Jones had been fairer than many of the technical staff. "Allah! What did that woman do, scramble your brain? Will you just get up and start to move around!" Scramble his brain? What woman? Strong hands grasped his upper arm in a no nonsense manner and he was unceremoniously hauled out of bed until he tipped over the side and sprawled in a most undignified manner on the expensive wool carpet. Hissing in protest Duo righted himself, leaning his head back against the bed. "Shit, Kat, what's the deal?" Annoyance did more to wake him up than all of the talking had thus far. "Get up! Get in the shower and wake yourself up, but do NOT wash your hair. If you do that we will be here for what remains of the day." Quatre sounded rather exasperated, looking toward the bedroom door with that little frown Duo recognised as meaning he was quite put out about something. "Huh? You make it sound like its late or something. Damn, chill will you?" Ohh, perhaps he should not have said anything because that glare was close to the eruption point he had learned not to push his friend beyond. Quatre Winner was a great guy, tolerant, fair minded to a fault, generous, infinitely patient… until you pushed him just that little bit too far. That quiet and shy schoolboy demeanour of his hid a rather vicious and cold hearted temper. Quatre glared, hovering on the edge of a precipice before seeming to calm down with a disbelieving and terribly un gentlemanlike snort. "It is midday, Duo. After last night's more than unusual circumstances we are required to eat a calorie controlled meal under observed conditions before they cart us off to the laboratory. There all three of us will be required to undergo a full assessment criteria." Blue eyes, shading toward light purple marked his confusion and rising irritation, blinked at Quatre and Duo's frown was back, though this time he at least looked around the room with something approximating his usual intelligence. "Midday?" "Yes," the single word was accompanied by an exasperated sigh. "Just after, actually." There was something vaguely bothering Duo about something that Quatre had said. He was not exactly the brightest bunny on mornings after long work sessions, but he was sure he had not actually been in the lab for a prolonged training session for days and… what was it Quatre had said that bothered him? *"Allah! What did that woman do, scramble your brain?"* He blinked as the words came back to him, feeding his confusion and nudging at something lurking in the fog that seemed to resist his every effort to push it aside. "What woman?" "Eh? Pardon? What woman?" "You said `what did that woman do, scramble your brain?' I… What the hell is going on?" Quatre snorted, almost, but not quite, amused by the myopic blinking and clear confusion clouding his friend's mind. Befuddlement emanated from Duo, he honestly was confused, not understanding what was happening to him and Duo could be quite funny when he was befuddled, not that it happened often. Usually it took a prolonged work session to affect the normally bright eyed and extremely intelligent jokester after a hard work session. On heavy training days he was cleared of lessons for the next day to recuperate under the attention and handling of a medical technician for at least the first half of the day. Quatre felt his irritation fading, reminding himself that he too was tired and would prefer to be in bed, but this was only a small slice out of the life or a working Psi. It was an indication of what lay ahead of them if they became licensed psi's of elevated rank on the legal tables. Whether his father would ever permit him to be a working psi remained to be seen, but for the moment that was a few years away and this was their first taste of the demands that could be placed on one. He had to remember that Duo was a victim of an abuse of psychic talent. That the abuser was a young woman who did not realise her own strength, or have any level of mastery over her gift, was beside the point. The point was that Duo had had his mind clouded by another individual who had a much stronger and unrelated talent to Duo's primary ability. It was not Duo's fault that his head must feel about three sizes too large and nothing made sense to him. "Princess Relena of Sanc. Remember her?" Blink… Those blue eyes clouded, hints of purple swirling in their depths and… "Ah, shit!" One hand pressed to his forehead, squashing his messy bangs at odd angles, covering his eyes. He failed to suppress the shiver that ran down his spine, a soft sound, almost like a squeak, not quite a moan escaped him. Oh yes, Duo remembered the blonde young woman, little more than a girl, who had approached him at the meet and greet after the evening meal. He also remembered the blinding headache he had been left with and now this cotton stuffed head… that was related to her? "Language!" Quatre admonished him gently. "As far as the professors go Jones is one of the better ones and would probably look the other way, especially considering the circumstances, but there are more than Jones waiting outside. I really don't want to leave Zechs alone out there with them for any longer than I need to, so would you kindly wake the hell up and move your butt!" "Oh, hell just froze over, Kitty Kat swore. Sort of." Duo tried for a cheeky smile and thought it fell rather flat. "Well, it was swearing for you." "Duo!" "Fine, fine, don't get your panties in a bunch. I'm awake. See, I'm up and heading for the bathroom." Quatre watched, hiding his amusement as Duo heaved himself up from the floor with nothing resembling his usual spry grace. He wobbled alarmingly for a moment, prompting Quatre to reach out and steady him with a quick, firm hand. Duo really was out of sorts and he would, most likely, not be enjoying the bulk of what remained of the day. In fact none of them would be enjoying the day. It would be filled with a barrage of tests, questions, exercises, more tests and additional copious intake of food, but then Duo would enjoy the extra opportunity to stuff his face; Duo liked food and the food at Tsuberov was always good. Not so Zechs, Quatre knew, who was never a heavy eater at the best of times and following a prolonged work session he was inclined to only pick at his food unless nudged, coaxed and cajoled to eat more. "I am going to join Zechs and the waiting tech team. From what we have been told we will be eating downstairs in the main dining room and then heading over to the labs at Tsuberov. In all honesty I am amazed they allowed us to sleep so long." "How long have you been up?" Duo wobbled over to his wardrobe, with each stride gaining stability and strength and began to select a presentable change of clothing. "Barely two hours. Zechs woke up roughly an hour ago. The techs and medics were here when I woke up, a group of them in each room monitoring our sleeping patterns I think. From what I can gather of what I have heard of their conversations, they arrived here not an hour after I went to bed." Duo winced, turning from the wardrobe, trousers shirt and a clean pair of boxers draped over one arm. "Guess someone at Tsuberov isn't too amused, eh?" Quatre sighed softly and rubbed at the back of his neck, a rueful smile twitching his lips. "To put it mildly, but none of them have said anything to me, or to Zechs as far as I can tell, That suggests we are in trouble." "I suppose they are involving you in lab time because you monitored the session between Zechs and the Prime?" Quatre inclined his head. "Yeah, and I settled you instead of calling in a med team. I can expect to get my knuckles slapped, I guess, and I suppose they are right. You should have been under a technical team after what was done to you. Given they have not said much, at least not yet, I think the Prime might have had a few words with the appropriate persons at Tsuberov. We can hope we might be let off with a warning, if the tests reveal we took no harm." Duo sniffed. "It's a whole batch of stupid idiotic fuss, that's what it all is." Quatre shook his head slowly, well aware of the responsibilities Tsuberov had taken on when the curriculum had become something other than just a private university for the children of the rich and famous. Training burgeoning psi talent was not done without risk to everyone involved. "We are not fully certified working psychics, Duo. Tsuverov is covering its backside and I can't say that I blame them. What took place last night was definitely against the regulations of any psi training institute I know, and I know them all. I checked them all out before I decided to come to Tsuberov." And Duo admitted to himself that he knew it too, not that he had to say so aloud. He was tired, cranky and damn, he was getting hungry! "Well, we will just see how much magic that Prime can work to keep you and Zechsy out of neck deep sump oil, shall we? Unfortunately he can't do anything that might help me. Not sure how much trouble I will be in with the Governors, but it's not the first time I'll get my fingers burned. I suppose I'll be put through every test known to man because of what happened, and they might invent a few just because I pissed them off. Can't say I am looking forward to it." "Duo, there is no reason why you would be in any trouble. You are the victim, not the instigator. If you are envisioning every test you can imagine then imagine what they will be saying to Princess Relena, and what they will be subjecting her to in the laboratory!" "Hey, man, she's a Princess. They won't say boo about it; or at least not much." "Oh, you have no idea." Quatre rolled his eyes snorted softly in exasperated amusement, walking to the door with Duo on his heels. "Because she is who she is they will be harder on her than if she had come from the same background as Zechs. Duo, having a title such as `princess' means having responsibilities to people of lesser social standing. Having a psi talent of measurable strength means having responsibilities to not inflict harm on other people. You combine the two sets of responsibilities together and what she did last night amounts to a major crime. It is a criminal offence to exert psi influence on an individual without their express consent, written in triplicate and approved by the appropriate government agencies. Duo, they will come down on her like a ton weight dropped from the third floor of the main lab before she really hurts someone." Duo winced, wondering just how much of that rule applied to future rulers of ancient countries, of course they were not in Sanc but still, wealth and prestige could sweep many things under thick piled carpets. "In her defence, I really don't think the Princess meant to influence me, Quatre." Quatre inclined his head, resting his hand on the doorknob and glancing over his shoulder at his friend. "That it was an accident is no excuse when you have that kind of ability. That is why Tsuberov is what it is, and why she is here to study." "Yeah. Well, we will see what happens I suppose. Give me a few minutes to have a shower and finish waking up. Won't be long, promise." He did not even take the time to glance around the sitting room, simply slipped quickly into the bathroom and gained the impression there were a large number of bodies in that room. Despite wanting nothing more than to lie back in the shower and allow the blessedly hot water to flow over him, he was good to his word. He was far from eager to feel like a specimen of some particularly interesting and obscure insect species to be examined under a microscope, but he knew the inevitability of it. Delaying would not avoid the tests to come, merely aggravate the technical team who probably had had something far more interesting planned for the day. It was an uncomfortable silence that greeted him when he joined the group. Otto's security team was on prominent display, much more so than he thought was really necessary, not that he had ever considered their presence necessary. Tsuberov was paranoid about security in his view, but there was, once again, nothing that could be done about it. It was just one of those things one had to deal with if one was fortunate enough to attend Tsuberov with all of its wealthier than thou students and their big shot parents. Scholarship students were by far in the minority at Tsuberov and talent aside, in such a place wealth and prestige was considered important. Zechs, he noted, looked anything but amused, sitting stiffly erect and overshadowed by the looming presence of a medic and psi technician. Quatre was tight lipped and had his own medic and technician shadowing him as he stood up. No one appeared to be in the greatest frame of mind, if anything the technical team was probably the most unamused of them all. It well might be a high class dining room with some of the best chef's in the world preparing the food but this breakfast they were marching to somehow had the air of a hanging. The opulent décor of the grand hotel seemed terribly out of place for the sombre nature of their party as they trooped through the foyer toward the sectioned off dining room. He glanced over the already laid out table as a waiter moved aside, escorted out of the room by a security guard which Duo considered a bit excessive. But then they were all high talent psi individuals who had undergone a strenuous evening, some more so than the others, and by Tsuberov regulations such students were to be kept segregated, if possible, from outsiders until they were cleared to mingle. The hotel was a far cry from controlled laboratory conditions. His taste buds awoke with a vengeance, inciting his appetite and drawing a demonic growl from his empty belly, reminding him it had been hours since he had last eaten. A meal had been brought at the direction of the Prime in the small hours of the morning, but it seemed days away instead of mere hours. Every effort was made to feed a working psychic a high calorie intake over a twenty four hour period following a work session to replenish energy used, and the food was generally made to look as attractive and tempting as humanly possible. Most psi individuals after a prolonged session would not have cared what the food they shovelled into their mouths looked like as long as it filled their need, but food that looked as though it wanted to be eaten was certainly a bonus. Most psi individuals, but not all, had a willing appetite. Zechs looked as though he was unwilling to even look at the menu on offer let alone sample it. His notorious lack of appetite was well known to the technicians in attendance and particular care had been taken in dealing with the young man. In pride of place in a tall crystal glass, the hotel prided itself on its presentation, stood a protein shake that seemed to incorporate all of the colours of the rainbow. It was topped off with artfully arranged succulent looking strawberries, peach slices and pineapple as garnish. Duo eyed the tall frosted glass for a long moment and then looked expectantly at the other two place settings at the table, neither of which boasted such a concoction, drawing a sulky pout and hard look at the medic shadowing him. "I want one of those." "Here. Have this one." Zechs thumped his tall frame into the waiting chair his technician was holding for him and slid the glass across the table. "I think not." A tech in attendance slid it right back again. "We can order another for Mr. Maxwell." Quatre eyed off the frosted glass for a long moment as he settled into his place and grinned. "I want one too." One of the technical team sighed, deep and exasperated. Psi's were notoriously finicky about their likes and dislikes after work sessions, particularly teenagers. It was highly possible Maxwell and Winner would take one sip of their drinks when they were presented and push it away, deciding they did not want it after all. It was not, contrary to popular belief amidst the non psi community, bloody mindedness or the foibles of the spoilt elite that drew such behaviour, but rather disrupted chemical factors in the brain affecting the body of the working psi. Those students who attended Tsuberov's Parapsychic Laboratories were no low class psychic charlatans, but sensitive and strong individuals in training to work long and hard hours by manipulating their brains in uncommon ways. High level work initiated complex chemical reactions throughout the body and a balanced, well maintained diet was a key factor in maintaining health; along with copious amounts of selective training in how to restore the natural balance to a body. What looked to be appetising to the mind, and was to an ordinary individual's taste buds, might well taste like acid to one psi or ambrosia to another. Delicious might turn to abominable mid way through a meal. It was a complex dance of foods and patience for all parties involved. "It is a complete meal. If you get through that in good order the medics will be satisfied if you do not eat anything else for a couple of hours." the technician hovering at Zechs' side spoke quietly, encouragingly, knowing of old how unappetising food looked to the blonde. Zechs, contrary to all training in etiquette that had been drilled into him since arriving at Tsuberov, dropped his elbows onto the table and his head into his hands. He simply could not face food despite knowing the need to suffer through it. Quatre sighed and eyed off the selection of food arrayed before him, deciding to start off with something simple; whole grained bread, toasted, with scrambled eggs dotted with mushrooms and Spanish onions. He would then move on to the more elaborate offerings. He was hungry enough to eat a horse. Duo fiddled with the end of his braid and eyed off the cluster of plates around his section of the table and decided a good old fashioned breakfast of eggs, bacon, sausages and grilled tomato would start the pick me up off nicely; he could ignore the miniscule little bits of green stuff dotting his tomato. "I still want one of those." He pointed to the tall frosted glass. ——————————- Noin stretched slowly in her seat, leaning back from the desk and the open file resting there. She ran a hand thought her short black hair, eyes closed, considering the information she had been given. Une nursed a third cup of coffee, brown eyes distant and seeming to look through the centre of the clock dominating the far wall. "He was found compacted into a refrigerator and he is still there?' Une inclined her head slightly in the affirmative, not dropping her gaze or moving in any other aspect. It was not a pretty death and she had gone through the medical examiners report with Noin so there was no doubt of how the individual had met his end. It was, really, not pleasant; but not as bad as the poor youth in that alley. "Apparently so. The Tsuberov student who first noticed his presence there had not realised he was a Medium talent and was rather… incoherent initially. The Prime had a long talk to him whilst the refrigerator was transported to the laboratory here, calming him down and ensuring he does not speak of the matter to any of the other students." "The student will now receive testing for a Medium's talent?" She was always keen on getting others who shared her speciality training. Too many developing Medium's tended to block their ability from fear after having endured frightening encounters. Not all shades were the wandering lost seeking closure and guidance, and Noin had had her share of nasty encounters. To a newly developing Medium such an encounter could drive them to block their ability. "He will. The Prime knows him personally, I understand, and made a point of speaking to the appropriate Tsuberov staff both to keep the matter hushed, and to arrange appropriate testing for Barton. I am sure you understand the need for discretion with this case?" "Indeed. Considering the identity of the student involved and his familial influence, not to mention the matter of a murder in such an institution… Yes, I understand." Une finally dropped her gaze, glancing at the woman seated across from her before fingering the file spread before her, a copy of the case file opened before Noin. "I have had a staff Medium check the refrigerator and she affirms the refrigerator is not exactly `vacant'. The shade initially has ignored her presence." Noin pursed her lips. "Totally?" Une shrugged. "All I know is she could see the shade, but he would not acknowledge her when she attempted to speak with him." Noin was fairly impressed with Une. Most people, psi or not, were more than a little wary of speaking of the dead as a lingering, sentient entity. In the view of the majority of the worlds populous once you were dead that was it, you were dead. You ceased to exist. Religions had their own view on what happened to the soul, or `essence' of the individual, but to the vast majority of people when you were dead you passed on… to what they were not particularly concerned with. It was, in so many ways, a very material, hands on world. Only a select few individuals knew what lay beyond what you saw with the material eye; what you could touch with the material hand. The dead who lingered in the material `living' world generally had something outstanding, some unfinished business that required them to seek closure. Unfulfilled obligations was merely scratching the surface of reasons for the dead to linger and, in too many cases in her view, those who were prematurely thrown from the living world by the wanton act of murder had just cause to linger. "I am somewhat surprised he has not at least left the confines of the refrigerator. Lingering near, that I can understand, but actually remaining in it? That may be important." "To him personally, or to the case? I can barely understand the living let alone deal with what the dead think." Une sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose and pushing her glasses up delicately. "The refrigerator is under guard and is checked multiple times a day. Additionally an attempt is made daily to engage the shade of the man, but he has thus far ignored every overture. Perhaps a higher talent can engage him?" "I hope so. The thought of him being stuffed into a…" Noin shuddered delicately. "That is just so wrong! Given there appears to be strong evidence these two murders are linked, which victim would you prefer I approach first?" "To be honest I have no idea if the shade of the latest victim lingers." Une murmured. "As far as I know the police have not brought in a Medium of their own, and I have been wary of sending in our resident Medium. She is a level 5 empath and given how Treize reacted…" Une shivered delicately. "I was reluctant to chance her attending the crime scene." Noin inclined her head slightly in acknowledgement and no small amount of understanding. It would be a delicate thing to expose an empath of levelled status to such an atmosphere. Well, such an empathic dilemma was not a problem for her, she was no levelled empath. Sensitive, yes, but not an empath who would be swamped with residue from killer and victim alike. She had never once encountered a crime scene where the killer was totally dispassionate. "Perhaps it would be best if I attended the latest crime scene and ascertained if there is a lingering presence? I can only hope the poor soul has passed on." Une stirred, leaning back in her seat and focused her attention on the woman across from her. She was not sure if she hoped for the same, though it was cruel to hope the victim had passed on. They would gain nothing if they could not `speak' to the only witness they might have. They really had to get the killer under control and off the streets. "I will arrange a car and an assistant for you and notify the appropriate authorities that you will be attending the crime scene. If there is no lingering shade in the alley, perhaps you might attend the city morgue and ascertain the shade does not linger near its body? I will notify the resident authorities of your presence there should it be required. And I apologise in advance if certain pig faced idiots put in an appearance somewhere during the length of your day. Get your assistant to give me a call and I will see about restraining his overzealous tendencies." "He is, I think, a passionate man who has seen the worst the world has to offer… and then found something worse." "Indeed." Une sighed. "Something worse." ~ * ~ |
