by Jim Mohr
I smile, full of self-pride. “Gabrielle, some of the kids call me the double-tailed lion. What do they mean by that?” I ask.
“Cougar, the double-tailed lion is the coat of arms of the Czech Republic. It is a compliment.”
I feel like a peacock, spreading my feathers. “That is good. I thought that they were making fun of my name.” Gabrielle pats my back as she shakes her head. Through everything that I have been through, Gabrielle has been there for me. I love her as if she were my mother.
I broach the subject of my future. “Gabrielle, I know that this is my home. It isn’t my home back in Wisconsin, but it is my home.”
“Yes dear, I have tried to make sure that this has been as pleasant as possible for you.”
“Thank you, it has. Gabrielle, I want to help the Resistance. I want to repay them for everything that they have done.”
“No, Cougar. Please don’t fight,” she says as she drops to her knees and gently grabs my shoulders.
“But the Resistance has taught me so much. I owe them.”
“Cougar, just do good in your classes. You can be successful without being in the military.”
I frown and accept her passive wishes and I think to myself: “What I owe them is not good; it is for taking me from my mom and killing my dad.”
“Cougar, Colonel Mikhailov is aware of your success in class. He is taking an active role in your education from here forward. Beginning Monday, you will start a new schedule.” Gabrielle has a look of dread on her face as she stands, looking down at me. I sense her fear for me… and it makes me afraid. I feel that my life is about to descend into darkness.
Chapter 7
Cougar—Resistance Installation: Prague, Czech Republic
The Saturday before my new schedule starts, I go to the library by myself. I have found a deep-seated love for military history. My exploits have led me to a Level V book on the tactics of World War II, both the Axis and the Allies. I can sense the humans milling about like rats in an abandoned building. My mind burns suddenly as if a headache from some unknown region is beginning. The feeling is like when Sebrev hurt me. I raise my head from the book to see a Chinese boy who is my age, staring at me. He is a Timere, and a powerful one.
I glare at the boy and he glares back. He walks toward me as I place the book down, careful not to fold a page accidentally.
“Can I help you?” I ask him in Russian. I have found that in this Resistance base everyone must be able to speak Russian.
The boy continues his hate-filled look at me, never blinking, never reacting. He only continues to slowly walk toward me. I think he is a creepy kid. The Timere all seem creepy.
“Do you have a problem?” I ask. Again, no response. His power seeps out of his soul like venom. I stand as I speak, “Hello? Do you have a problem?”
He stops and moves his arm in a circle as if he is writing in the air. He still does not blink; it is as if he is in a trance. The circle gets progressively smaller as his arm goes around.
I think of the day I was captured, how Sebrev had reacted when I read his mind. I enter this Chinese boy’s mind. Immediately his arm drops, his eyes flash in anger. I see in his mind a black spider. Its fat body and thick front legs are arched up as it rears up to fight.
“STOP IT!” The boy yells.
“Ah, so you aren’t an imbecile. You can talk,” I say as I feel my stomach churn. A small burp escapes my mouth. It is sour, like rot and decay. I am suddenly lightheaded as my partially digested breakfast shoots onto the floor.
The Chinese boy laughs and turns from me. I know that he caused me to vomit. “Wait!” I cough, clearing my nose and throat of the bile.
“What do you want?” he turns to face me.
“I’m sorry I read your mind. I don’t want to fight with you. What is your name?” I ask.
“I don’t like you kid! You are evil and I want you to die!” his voice seems to become feral. This kid is crazy.
“You think I am evil? I only read your mind, you made me get sick!”
“And next time that you cross me, I will do worse than that!” he points emphatically at me.
***
It isn’t long and I sense Gabrielle approaching the new corner of the library I have retreated to. I see her and immediately smile.
“Cougar,” her face is full of curiosity, “are you all right?”
“I was sick a bit ago. A Chinese boy caused it,” I reply.
Her eyes grow wide. “A Chinese boy? Feng Chu? Was his name Feng Chu?”
“I don’t know. He didn’t say.”
She sits next to me. “Cougar, Colonel Mikhailov is changing your classes. In the place of Czech Language Level III, you will be studying German Language Level I. Your Art and Literature Level III class will be replaced by a class about Timeres taught by a man named Volker Gerdt. Mister Gerdt is not a nice man, and he is a Timere, so I want you to be careful. Do not provoke him or any of his students. You are there to learn.”
I feel sad because I am loving my art and literature class, and it is being taken from me. “Gabrielle, I don’t want to. Please let me stay in art.”
She shakes her head. “No, I am sorry, Cougar. You need to learn other things. You need to challenge yourself.”
I want to say, “You challenge yourself. I’m studying Beethoven and the Bohemian writers of the ninth and tenth centuries.” I love her too much to say that, instead I say, “Great, put me in the class with people like Sebrev.”
Gabrielle frowns at my response. “Be careful, Cougar. He’s an adult and a soldier. He may wind up being a supervisor.”
I look at Gabrielle as thoughts about my World War II book come to the surface. “If people like Sebrev can become leaders in the Resistance, then we will lose the war. It takes more than hatred and strength to win a battle.”
Gabrielle’s frown leaves as she stares at me. “That was very wise of you, Cougar. Did you read that in your book?” She picks up my book and thumbs through it. “Cougar, this is a Level V book. Do you understand it?”
“Of course, I understand it,” I say as I extend my hand, asking for it back. “It isn’t difficult. Anyone who has to fight, even with the most modern weapons, against an enemy in complete command of the air, fights like a savage against modern European troops, under the same handicaps and with the same chances of success.” I smile at Gabrielle.
“Who said that? Are you quoting from the book?” Her eyes squint with curiosity at me.
“Yes, that was said by Erwin Rommel. Basically, to win, you need air superiority, or at least not having air superiority decreases the advantages that you would have had with greater ground forces. I think in this war air power will help. I think stealth and quick bursts of power will be better though. The tactics and battles of the World War II will not apply to this war.”
“Cougar, that is amazing,” she says as she softly grabs my hand. “I will have to tell Colonel Mikhailov about this.” She squeezes my hand softly, as her pride in me is obvious in those lovely blue eyes. I can see that she regrets my military intellect, wishing it to be something peaceful.
“It’s nothing, Gabrielle. I am a predator, I will never be a prey.” My mind works on the battles of World War II. The mistakes made by both sides, the losses grasped from the jaws of victory.
***
Two days later I begin my new schedule. My lunch is between my third class, Russian language, and my fourth class, Timere studies. I hope that my future interactions with the Timere go better than my first two have. They just seem to want conflict with me.
The walk from the meal hall to the Timere class is miserable for me; I have a sense of dread about what lies ahead. Not even Gabrielle’s hand on my shoulder makes it any better. I sense the Timere as I proceed down the hallway, toward the classroom. The closer I get to the class, the more of them I sense.
I look sheepishly at her. “You know, my birthday is next week,” I reply, trying to lighten the dark mood over us both.
“Yes, we’ll talk on that later.” She reaches out and turns the doorknob.
The classroom before me is plain. There are no pieces of artwork or pictures of any kind hanging on the walls. There are no windows, and the room is illuminated only by the fluorescent lights in the ceiling. Desks sit in rows and all but two hold an occupant. At the front of the room sits a large wooden desk. Behind it sits a middle-aged man in a military uniform, Volker Gerdt.
During the four months that I have been at Prague base, I have heard bits and pieces of conversations and thoughts about Gerdt. Combined, these tidbits of information are not flattering. In person, seeing the man now, they don’t do him justice.
Gerdt stands while pulling his black shirt straight. His face is stern; his brown hair is cut short and combed straight. He glares at me as if all that Timere know is to glare at people. There are twenty-three children in Gerdt’s class. All but Feng Chu look at me with hate-filled eyes. They are all Timere.
Gerdt walks around his desk. He speaks in Czechoslovakian. “So, you decide to interrupt my class with… that thing!” He points his finger and his hate-filled eyes flash at me.
Gabrielle musters her strength as she speaks, “Mister Gerdt, I assume that you remember our discussion last week? I would hate to remind you of it in front of your class. I will remind you, and your class, however...” she looks at the class of Timere, “that Cougar Reed here is wearing a uniform. He is a ward of this base and our responsibility. Under the direction of the Commander, he is to be cared for.”
Feng Chu, who is seated in the front, stares at Gabrielle. Gerdt laughs, his laugh is sinister and I can tell he means me harm. The man reminds me of my dad when he would taunt me before a beating. “Miss Detches, I certainly hope that you are not in any way threatening me or my students. We are not all descendants of humans here. I can promise you that Timere parents would not accept a human speaking to their beloved children as you have.” Gerdt looks briefly at Gabrielle and then returns to glaring at me. “You knowingly brought a Psychokinetic into my class. There are consequences.”
I feel a pain in my chest; it reminds me immediately of the pain Sebrev had caused. This pain isn’t as sharp as Sebrev’s had been. This pain doesn’t feel like a knife behind my eyes, as Sebrev’s attack felt. This feels like someone is standing on my chest. It is a dull, annoying pain.
The power inside me that defends me, my defensive power, builds. Whoever is using their power to harm me seems to kindle it. Gabrielle cannot feel my power grow. She is looking at Gerdt.
“Volker,” she says, “you answer to our department. If Cougar enlists in the Secret Forces department he would be an awesome weapon. Refrain from your tactics of…” Gabrielle gasps as her words are cut off.
I look at her as her eyes bulge in terror. Her mouth moves, yet no air passes her lips. I touch her hand before it springs to her chest. A sliver of healing power escapes through my flesh as we touch. I at once am overcome with love of Gabrielle and hatred for Timere. I watch as Gabrielle is suddenly in respiratory arrest.
Chapter 8
Cougar—Resistance Installation: Prague, Czech Republic
Choking is the inability to breathe because of a blockage; strangulation is constricting of the neck. My dad taught me the difference between them, first hand. Respiratory arrest is when the lungs fail to function correctly. Gabrielle is in respiratory arrest.
I quickly scan the class to see who is causing my lovely Gabrielle to suffer so. It doesn’t take long for Gerdt to chime in.
“So, Miss Detches, I would like you to meet my prize pupil. His human name is Feng Chu, but please call him the Funnel Web spider.”
I look at Feng Chu or Funnel Web spider. He was the boy from the library. He is staring at Gabrielle, smiling as she turns purple. Tears of fear stream from her eyes.
Memories of my mother play in my head like small movies. I can hear her voice telling me: “Our loved ones are all that we have in this life. If we cannot defend them, then what good are we?” What good was I that I couldn’t defend my dad, and now I am not defending Gabrielle.
I lash out with my telekinetic power. It isn’t focused like it had been with Sebrev and the metal post. This seems like raw anger, rage. I feel like a cornered mountain lion, I am pissed off and clawing at my prey.
Funnel Web’s head snaps to the side as my power strikes him. The dull pain in my chest stops immediately. My defensive power peaks. I know who was harming me.
In the back of the room, sits a small girl. She has greasy black hair, soiled clothes, and a dirty face. She already fears me, I can feel it. I grab her with my telekinetic power. I can smell her odor, feel her warmth, her heartbeat. Without restraint I pull her, with everything that I have, I telekinetically throw her. I lift the dirty girl from her desk and hurl her toward Volker Gerdt. The force she leaps from her desk with is awesome. She flies over the children in front of her and crashes, arms extended, into Gerdt. The force of the collision throws Gerdt to the ground. The sound of bones snapping echo throughout the classroom.
I hear Gabrielle inhale deeply as Funnel Web’s attack ceases. Funnel Web stands, blood running from his mouth. The telekinetic strike I hit him with has drawn blood. He looks at me. “You will pay for that, Cougar.” His voice is far more menacing than a nine-year-old’s voice should be; he sounds like my dad.
I smile at him. “Yes, and I’ll repay you for harming Gabrielle, you fuck!” We stare at each other for what seems like hours. Until Gabrielle grabs me and shoves me toward the door.
***
Gabrielle holds the back of my neck like I were a kitten and she was my mother cat. She guides me down hallways and into an elevator, I had never seen before. She staggers as she pushes me. Her finger nails dig into my skin as I whimper from the pain. I now feel as if I have disappointed her.
Gabrielle occasionally coughs as she tries to hide how close she had come to dying. Her breathing is irregular as her body fights to return to a normal breathing cycle. I know how close she was to dying, I could tell. As we walk I remember seeing Funnel Web smiling as my dear Gabrielle fought for air.
“Gabrielle, please....” I beg. “He was hurting you. I had to help you.”
“Quiet! I told you to behave. I’m an adult; he was torturing me, not killing me.”
“But…”
“Quiet, Cougar!” She pushes me hard out the door as the elevator opens to the fourth floor.
Instead of nameless classrooms, the fourth floor has plates on each door with names and titles. Instead of a white tile floor, this floor has a light wood grain design. It is artificial but compared to what I have seen in the base up to now, this is high-quality stuff. Guards are more frequently spaced on this floor than they are on the education floor.
Gabrielle releases me in front of a door. The plate on it says: Vlad Mikhailov—Head of Education and Assignment. Gabrielle opens the door. Mikhailov’s office is huge by military standards, larger even than the Timere classroom.
The flooring in Mikhailov’s office is also wood grain; it is polished to a high shine. Pictures of Prague, Moscow, and what I think is Beijing, hang on the walls. There are two large bookcases full of books. Mikhailov also has a window in his office covered by fancy drapes. I love the artistic design of his office.
Mikhailov is seated at his brass and glass-topped desk. His small scars and weathered face seem to conflict with the lavish office and desk. He looks at Gabrielle
and nods. “Dismissed,” he says and she immediately turns and leaves his office. Mikhailov waits until Gabrielle is through the door and it is closed before he speaks, “Do you remember me?”
“Yes, sir. You ordered Sebrev to take me,” I answer.
“It’s funny, young man, you remember me ordering your capture. You understand that Sebrev wanted to kill you, right? I saved your life, Cougar.” He pauses for a minute before continuing. “I transferred to this office from the Ground Command department. I’ve been paying attention to your progress.” Mikhailov is speaking “high” or “society” Russian. Even being in junior high-level Russian, I can tell the difference. I think that he must have come from a wealthy family. He is certainly well educated.
“Sir, why are you interested in my progress?”
“Cougar, we need Psychokinetics. I have placed you in the Timere class to aid you. To make you stronger. I see though that you’ve got one hell of a temper.”
I lower my head in shame. “They were hurting Gabrielle and me. Mister Gerdt was taunting her.”
Mikhailov leans forward. “Volker Gerdt is an instructor in the education department. Miss Detches works for me. I will handle Gerdt. Not you, not any student. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“One more thing, you injured that girl; Nada Dvorak, I believe is her name. That is entirely unacceptable.”
I look at Mikhailov, not understanding how he already knows this. “Sir, it’s unacceptable to take an American civilian, isn’t it?”
Mikhailov stares at me. I dare not read his mind. For what seems like an eternity he stares at me without speaking. “You are correct. It is unacceptable to take American civilians. So, remember that. If you have a complaint with how you are treated, remember it. Get even on your own time.”