Psy Touch

by A. D. McLain

The trays from the wall freezers in the men’s bathroom had to be changed out twice a night. Because most ejaculation happened through Psy-sex, collection bags were worn to hold the fluids. When artificial inseminations became the norm, the state began the collection program to gather these bags and store them for future use. All night clubs and Psy dens were required to maintain proper freezer units to hold these bags until they could be turned in.

  Jared turned the key and pulled out the freezer box full of bags. He transferred it to another freezer unit in one of the supply closets near the bathrooms. From there he brought back an empty box and locked it in the freezer. He checked the rack of empty bags and then went back out to the bar.

  He tossed the key back to Mick. “Done.”

  “Good. Looks like the second wave’s here.”

  A group of people in revealing attire and decked out in anti-crystals moved through the bar. Anti-crystals were costume jewelry made to resemble inhibitor crystals. Some years back, a claim was made that they increased Psy pleasure and intensity. Ever since, they became a fashion staple for the serious den rats. The group headed straight for the Dungeon—a dark dance room with stripper poles on short pedestals, lush velvet sofas lining the walls, and a cage people could enter to become the focus for everyone on the dancefloor. The cage sat on a platform over a wading pool made of glow-in-the-dark stone. A waterfall above the cage periodically splashed into the pool. Some more adventurous couples would engage in syntercourse in the cage.

  The sound of the cage door rattling and water pouring down into the pool could be heard from the bar. resounded

  “They’re not wasting any time tonight,” Mick said.

  “Nope. You ever get tired of working here? Being around this, night after night?”

  “Not really.” Mick poured some drinks and passed them down the counter to a couple guys at the end of the bar. “If they want to go crazy and have Psy orgies every night, what do I care? That’s their lives. It’s none of my business any more than it should be their business if I want to settle down and have a family. At least here they have a safe place to do what they do with willing partners, and some degree of protection if they get in over their heads.” He narrowed his eyes at the front door. “Like that one. Looks like a dare.”

  The young man walking in the club was probably under five-five. He didn’t look that different than anyone else except for his height. He had a decent build and good coloring. But he appeared nervous. There was no excitement on his face. He touched his head where the band would normally sit, and flinched when he didn’t feel it. Everyone had to take off their bands before they were let inside the club.

  He drifted over to the bar and sat on a stool next to Jared. “Can I have something strong, please?”

  “Sure thing.” Mick poured a shot of whiskey and passed it to him.

  The man gulped it with one toss back and put the glass back on the counter.

  Mick poured. “First time Psy?” He poured a third shot.

  “No. I mean, I’ve done psinterludes before. Just not used to so many people, is all. I’m usually one-on-one.” The man already seemed more relaxed.

  “What brings you in?”

  “A girl.” He grinned. “She’s got this fantasy of the cage. A girlfriend of hers told her about it, and it’s all she’s talked about ever since. She said I can do whatever I want with her as long as it’s in there.”

  A girl dressed in a thin white dress, with thigh-high white stockings and black ballet slip-on shoes walked in ahead of another wave of hardcore clubbers. Her hair was pulled up into two loose ponytails that fell down around her shoulders. She had sweet pink lips and wore pale blue eye shadow. She strode across the room to join the man at the bar and kissed him on the cheek. He brightened up.

  “Can I get you anything?” Mick asked.

  “Oh, no, I’m fine. Thank you.” She pulled the man by his elbow and brought him to his feet.

  He smiled and swiped his watch over the payment panel on the bar. A beep signaled that the payment was accepted, and the two of them walked, arm-in-arm, to the Dungeon.

  “Well,” Jared pushed off the bar, “guess I better go keep an eye on our boy there, so he doesn’t get pushed around too much by the hard cores.”

  “Be careful.”

  “I won’t.” Jared grinned.

  The girl was already being helped into the cage by her boyfriend and a couple other people in the wading pool. Her eyes rolled and knees buckled as she stepped inside. Her boyfriend followed her in and the waterfall fell over them. People cheered and called out words of encouragement. The girl’s thin dress was transparent. Hard nipples pushed against the wet fabric. She braced herself against the cage wall and stood with her legs spread open behind her. The boyfriend fumbled as he unhooked his pants and then pushed himself between her.

  Jared turned his head, but the view around the room wasn’t much different. Barely dressed women writhed on the poles. People kissed and Psy-played on the sofas. The dance floor was a moaning mass of frantic Psy-highs.

  The girl in white shook and cried out in release. Her face was happy for a moment. Then it twisted in discomfort. Clearly not ready for the continued attention and non-stop pulsing, she tried to open the cage door, but some men from the crowd jumped into the pool and held the door closed. She screamed and fell to her knees. The men at the door cackled. Their eyes held thoughts of violence.

  Jared attempted to push his way through the crowd, but it was thick. The girl was crumpled into a crying ball while her boyfriend beat at the cage, but the men wouldn’t let go. Focusing his mind on the men, Jared pulled at their fingers and twisted them back. They jumped back and looked at the boyfriend, but he was as shocked as they were to see them hurt. He pushed at the door and knocked them into the water. Then after scooping up his girlfriend, he carried her toward the dancefloor, but the men in the pool rushed to grab his leg before he could exit the pool. A group of women helped the girl to stand and ushered her out of the room, while a fist fight broke out in the wading pool. Blood sprayed into the water. Some people ran into the bar. Some people cheered or jumped in. A few people kept doing what they were doing and ignored the whole thing. One man went to punch the boyfriend, but Jared psychically grabbed his arm long enough for the boyfriend to get in his punch first, which knocked the man out. Jared pulled at the feet of other men, making them lose their balance and fall into the water. One man hit his head on the side of the cage and knocked a tooth out as he fell.

  With the crowd finally thinning, Jared was able to reach the pool. He pulled the boyfriend by the arm, but he didn’t know friend from foe and tried to hit Jared, who blocked a punch by throwing up a Psy arm and dragged him away from the pool.

  “Come on,” Jared said. “Your girl needs you.”

  That was enough to get through to him. The boyfriend turned and bolted into the other room.

  By this point, the two other bouncers had arrived. They helped Jared drag the men from the pool and throw them out of the club. By the time he went back in the Dungeon to drain the pool for cleaning, everyone was already dancing and pulsing again. He shook his head and went to check on the couple. Mick had taken them to a crystal room to recover. The girl looked up at Jared as he entered. Her eyes were full of fear, face covered in tears.

  “I’m sorry I tried to punch you,” the boyfriend said.

  Jared help up a hand and shook his head. He knelt beside the girl and rubbed her hand. He thought about what Lexy had said. How when you wanted to comfort someone, a small amount of Psy energy transferred to that person would do the trick.

  The girl began to relax.

  “How are you feeling?” Jared asked.

  “It hurts to breath. One of them… put pressure on my chest and lungs, while the others… I didn’t know Psy-sex could hurt that much. They made it hurt.” She sobbed on her boyfriend’s shoulder.

  Jared backed away and left them alone. He joined Mick just outside the room.

  “She h
ad bruises on her chest,” Mick said, once the door was closed.

  “That bastard would’ve killed her. I wish I’d known about the chest pain. I would’ve had him arrested for attempted murder instead of just throwing him out.”

  Violent Psy sex in a den or club wasn’t against the law. It was generally accepted that you assumed a certain amount of risk and responsibility when going to those places. But clubs did have the freedom to refuse entrance to anyone who used their Psy pulses in an improper manner. If you wanted to play, you had to follow their rules.

  “There’s nothing that can be done about it now,” Mick said. “You know how they are with pursuing Psy crime allegations when you don’t have the suspect and no one actually got killed.”

  “They want to pretend it’s all just a misunderstanding and leave it alone.”

  “Especially when you don’t have a name and the guy looks like all our other clientele.”

  “I guess you’re right. We don’t want to draw too much attention to the club if we can help it.”

  They walked back up to the bar and Mick took back over for the bouncer, running the drinks.

  “Did you have to pulse?” he asked.

  “A few times. The crowd was pretty thick. It was hard to get to the pool.”

  “Did anyone notice?”

  “I have no idea. There was a lot going on in there.”

  “Okay. Just be careful.”

  “I always am.”

  Mick snorted. “No, you’re not.”

  “Well, I didn’t figure you wanted the truth.”

  They laughed and went back to work. Jared checked on the boyfriend and girl several times, bringing them water and food to snack on. They finally emerged from the room an hour later. The girl looked much better, but she was still shaken. He saw them to the door and went back inside. When dawn arrived and the last patron was gone, he pulled the freezer box for storage and called it a night. He strolled back to his apartment, half-awake.

  Jared became aware of being followed. He followed the shadows and felt his senses sharpen. One shadow reached up, and he ducked to avoid being stabbed. The three men from the pool circled around him on the sidewalk. He was only a few feet from the stairs to his apartment, but there was no way he could get inside before they reached him.

  “I saw what you did,” the leader said. “You’re a Forcer.”

  Jared watched their muscle twitches and looked for an opening to call for help or run. “What are you talking about?”

  “I saw you pull people back while you had your band on.”

  The leader paced around him, trying to put Jared’s back to the wall and trap him. he stepped sideways instead, buying himself a few inches to maneuver in.

  “I turned it off, genius.”

  “Well, it’s set to on now.”

  “Your point?”

  Two of the men lunged at Jared. He jumped back, but his leg still got caught by one of the men. He fell and the third man struck his stomach with a metal pipe, followed by a hit to the back of his head. They grabbed his arms and pulled him to his feet. Dragged him down to an alley one building down. He heard a groan and whimper, followed by shuffling. Struggling to clear his vision, he opened his eyes and saw the boyfriend and his girl tied up by a dumpster. The boy was unconscious but still breathing. The girl was awake.

  “You like to play hero so much,” the leader said. “What’re you going to do now?”

  Jared struggled against their hold and pulled one arm free. Twisting around, he threw one man to the ground and kicked another. The leader pulled the girl to her feet and held a knife at her throat. Jared stopped fighting. The men grabbed his arms again, this time gripping him tighter. The boyfriend stirred and opened his eyes. One look at the girl and he began struggling against his ropes, trying to stand.

  “So what’s it going to be?”

  “What do you want?” Jared asked.

  “I want you to admit you’re a Forcer.”

  “And you think a confession born from holding a hostage and beating someone up three-on-one is worth anything? That’s not going to hold up anywhere.”

  “You’re right. A confession isn’t worth anything. So how about a demonstration instead?” The leader grabbed the girl around her shoulders and tossed her into the street.

  The sound of squealing tires echoed. This wasn’t a wired road, so a driver would have to avoid the girl or run her over. In the split second it took to see that the driver wouldn’t have the reflexes to turn, Jared did it for her. He pulsed, putting hands on the driver’s, and pushing him to turn sharply. The car swerved and missed the girl.

  “That’ll do.” The man smiled and motioned to his friends.

  They hit Jared over the head a second time. Just before he lost consciousness, he heard them run away.

  9

  “I felt hands on mine,” was the first thing Jared heard. Then, a girl crying.

  He opened his eyes and pushed off the ground. A paramedic was examining the girl and tending to some scrapes on her arm. Her eyes were glazed and she had a cut and a bruise on her head.

  A policeman was walking towards Jared. “Both of these men have bands on. Are you sure it wasn’t someone else.” The officer pulled the boyfriend to his feet and untied him.

  The girl bawled as she threw the blanket from her shoulders and squeezed her boyfriend. The officer helped Jared to his feet and led him to the ambulance. Jared looked over at the club, but no one would be there now. Mick always took the back exit and left through an employee-only parking garage which was also used for special supplies transfers. They had a shipment going out that morning. Mick would’ve gone with it to make sure it reached The Valley safely, and Jared’s father would be with him. They’d be gone most of the day, so Jared was on his own.

  “Thank you for saving me,” the girl said to him.

  Her boyfriend’s eyes widened and he shook his head to silence her.

  The police officer narrowed his eyes at Jared. “Is your band working properly?”

  “I… I don’t know,” Jared said. “I don’t really use Psy all that much. They hit me in the head a couple times with some kind of pipe. Maybe they damaged it.”

  The driver of the car flicked his gaze over at him in panic, checking his Psy band, and asked if he could go. They let him. As he turned to walk away, Jared looked the man in the eye and saw an understanding there.

  “We have to bring him in,” another officer said. “It’s procedure.”

  The first officer grabbed Jared’s arm and led him into the police car. Jared looked at the badge and thought of Lexy’s father. How many good people had he been forced to arrest, to protect his family.

  The officers took the front seats and looked back at him nervously, through the bars separating them. He sighed and looked out the window, at the stairs to his apartment as they drove away.

  Once they reached the stations, the original two officers were replaced by men in suites with strange looking inhibitor bands and crystals everywhere. They had crystal buttons on their jackets, crystal cufflinks, crystal-encrusted watch phones, and crystals lining their bands. The next several hours was a series of questions and electric shocks to provoke reactions. He maintained his control, even when the electrical charges grew stronger. In his mind, he fortified a wall between things he was allowed to confess under torture and things he must never reveal. At some point they would provoke a reaction. Either through sleep, food deprivation, dehydration, or pain, they would break him. But he couldn’t reveal the ones who knew his secret or the work his father did. And he couldn’t say anything about Lexy. Couldn’t let them find her. With that in mind, he let them do what they would.

  Lexy sat straight up. Her heart was pounding, but she didn’t know why. Must’ve been a bad dream.

  It took her a moment to remember why she was in the living room instead of her bed. She was curled up on the loveseat. Kara snored softly on the couch. Their notes, empty glasses, and candy wrappers were on the cof
fee table. Lexy put her feet on the plush carpet. Cool air moved her hair as the air conditioner kicked on. Sunlight streamed through the curtains and highlighted dust particles in the air. Everything was quiet. Her heart was still drumming, but she couldn’t remember anything from her dream. Couldn’t remember dreaming at all. The alarm clock on her watch beeped. She hit the silence button and saw that it was already thirty minutes past her normal wake-up time. She and Kara had slept through the beeping six times.

  “Kara.”

  Her friend mumbled something and turned over.

  “Kara,” she called louder.

  “What?” Kara rubbed her eyes and pushed up on to her elbows.

  “We overslept. We’re late for work.”

  “Oh, is that all? We’ve both got like a dozen sick days. Just email HR for both of us and go back to sleep.” She laid her head back down and turned onto her side. “How late were we up last night anyway?” Her eyes were still closed.

  “I don’t know. Two o’clock, maybe.”

  “And we still couldn’t come up with a plan.” Kara yawned and blinked. Then she snapped her eyes open “Are you okay?” She sat up and leaned over to Lexy. “You look pale and sick. Was it all the chocolate or the drinking? Do you need some water or something?” She hopped up and went to the kitchen, then brought back a glass of water and handed it to Lexy.

  She accepted the water but didn’t drink. “I don’t feel sick.”

  “Then what’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know. My heartbeat won’t slow down. I feel like something’s wrong, but I don’t know what.”

  “You want me to call someone? What about Jared?”

  Lexy thought of Jared and reached for her watch phone. Then a feeling of dread and horror swept through her.

  “I can’t call him.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Lexy, you’re freaking me out. I’m calling Curtis.” She rushed into the kitchen and whispered into her phone.

  After hanging up, she hurried back into the living room and put a hand on Lexy’s leg. She was still sitting like that when Curtis knocked on their door thirty minutes later.