Out of Touch

by Leia Howard

  “I’ve long ignored your disgust of my awesome job, it’s second-nature by now. I know you’re just jealous, not having every minute of your work-day organized to maximize efficiency and meet project deliverables. And, being the boss is cool. My minions do nothing that I ask them to, they don’t even let me call them my minions. I also have my own spiffy office, which smells like something died outside my window. I should probably add that to the list of things to do Saturday, ‘investigate bad office odor’. My glamorous life. Also, I noticed you didn’t have anything to say about the giving of giftbags. You can’t explain it either, huh?”

  Sully was chuckling at our usual exchange when Sunny placed their plates on the table. I quickly draped a large disposable paper napkin on my side of the table and Sunny set my plate down. I unwrapped the utensils that I always carry with me to restaurants, removed my elbow length gloves, and happily dug in. As expected, Wendy and Sully both placed an order for take away. While that was being prepared, we finished our meal. Sully was scheduled to leave the next morning, serving as an escort to a flora PsySapient and a firewarden. They’re heading to Malheur Forest in eastern Oregon, of the Cascadia province of Canada.

  There were some recent fires and the forestry department believed they were deliberately set but could not find definitive proof. They petitioned the use of a flora PsySapient to bespeak the living and the dead plants. And it was always good to have a member of your party speak arson, thus a firewarden. As for traveling there in person, it works better to go to the living plants rather than have them shipped here, less traumatic for the plants. At least, this is my understanding from speaking with Maddie, the flora PsySapient headed to Oregon. I know Maddie through Wendy. Wendy prefers to get her herbs from Maddie to use in her charms. Wendy has her own herb garden that she uses for personal charms. But for her commercial business, she wants professionally grown herbs.

  We have flora, fauna, and terra PsySapients on SWACon. Their ability to understand and be understood by plants, animals, and even the land is remarkable. I once asked Maddie what caused her to immigrate the Greater Tribe, trying to understand what the government might compel a flora PsySapient to do. I expected either a non-reply or to find out about forcing plants to turn poisonous or something. Surprisingly, Maddie answered and said she could feel the plants around her were unhealthy, choking in the smog or being surrounded by buildings and unable to get enough sun. She just wanted to go to a place where she could feel the greenery was happy. Most PsySapients were apprenticed to tribal shamans, medicine persons, and animal healers. They seem to be the happiest Psycepts on conservatorships. Lucky them.

  CHAPTER SIX

  I arrived at work the next morning, bright and early, to unlock the office. 6:45 a.m. is no joke and I’ve never been a morning person. It blows, being a night-shift person living in a daylight world. If I live long enough to retire, I’ll be a night-lifer and a day-sleeper. I walk into the kitchen and turn on the single cup coffee maker after making sure it had plenty of water. I don’t drink coffee nor tea, but everyone else in the office seems to. Dani signed us up on some coffee pod of the month club, and we usually have green tea laying around. Anything else, they can bring their own pods.

  I hear Rhea’s footsteps walking toward the kitchen just as I was putting my lunch in the fridge. She smiled as she popped a pod into the coffee maker and placed her giant mug under the spout. She went off to her office but returned shortly and grabbed her finished mug of coffee. Inhaling deeply, she finally spoke.

  “Good morning. Have you set the agenda for the staff meeting? I have something I wish to discuss.”

  “Routine topics, as usual, plus one thing from me. But there’s always room for more,” I replied. “I’ll be short as I want to give everyone time to ruminate on the topic. You can tell me what to add now, wait until next week’s meeting, or just shoot me an email whenever.”

  We have weekly staff meetings on Thursdays. I may rest from consultative work that day, but it just frees me up to cram a bunch of meetings in the afternoon. We usually finish in thirty minutes, but it occasionally goes over, so we schedule it for forty-five. It’s nice to have a short afternoon break when we don’t need the extra time.

  “I’ll send you an email, but it can wait until after Thursday’s meeting. Hey, do you know why Detective Randolph won’t be here Thursday to drop off your packages? Yesterday, he said he would see me next week.”

  I hid a smile as I filled my hydration bottle with water from the fridge. Rhea has worked here for three years, the past two years of which she kept a close eye out for my package deliveries. Coincidently, that is the length of time since Sully was promoted to detective and became my primary case handler, thus deliverer of packages. It was cute when it began, forever ago. But if one of them doesn’t ask the other out soon, Wendy and I are going to have to step in and kick them in the ass.

  “Yep. He had to escort a PsySapient and a firewarden to a consultation. Detective Randolph believes they’ll be gone for the rest of the week. I think that Liaison Lowell is taking Dani out to lunch, so he might drop off my packages Thursday,” feigning ignorance of why she was inquiring about Sully.

  “That sounds nice. Hey, do you know if anyone is searching for an apartment to rent? My upstairs neighbor is moving out at the end of the month and my landlord is looking for a new tenant. She’s pretty picky, though. No smoking and no late-night partying. And everyone has to pitch in on our apartment garden.”

  I almost replied that I would check with Liaison Lowell or Sully. Rhea doesn’t live in PsyTown and the Psycept Police unit is the only people of Albuquerque that I felt comfortable asking about this. But I finally had a good idea. “No, I don’t know anyone off the top of my head. Detective Randolph might. Since there is a time crunch and waiting until next week may not be the best, why don’t you go ahead and text him? Do you need his number?”

  “Yes, I don’t believe I have his number. Can I get it from you?”

  “Just a sec. Let me check with him,” I replied.

  I quickly text Sully. Hey, can I give Rhea your number? She has a line on an upcoming vacancy in her complex and is looking for possible tenants. She can give you some basic info about the apartment and you can check with your police peeps.

  Sully replied within a minute. Sure, sounds good. Let her know that it will be later today before I can reply to her. We are just about to board, and the flight is three hours up to Jackson Hole. Then we have another couple hour flight to John Day, just outside of Malheur.

  Yes, the GT have airplanes and our airspace is controlled by the military. Most of the flights within the GT are small aircrafts, usually Cessna C550 or S550 that seats six to nine passengers. We keep the aircraft small because we don’t have many long runways needed by the larger airplanes. It also helps when we fly outside of the Greater Tribe because it’s easier for us to land in a smaller, regional airport than flying into a large airport that may be farther away from where we are visiting. If you want to visit the Greater Tribe nation, you must arrive at the nearest airport outside of our territory and then walk through one of the entry points, outside cars are not allowed. This is, of course, after you’ve been granted a visitor pass to enter.

  Having said that, we have special summer tourist packages that seem quite popular. The tourist books either the eastern or the western tour. Once a month in June, July, and August, a couple of larger flights originating from the GT are cleared to arrive in Canada, Mexico, and the US to pick up passengers and bring them back to El Paso on the Cochise Conservatorship military base. For the eastern tour, from El Paso, the tourists travel in shuttle busses along the northeast conservatorships all the way to Kalaallit Nunaat, formerly Greenland. The other option is to go from El Paso along the northwest conservatorships up to Denali and the Aleutians. All tourists must be able to ride horses in certain parts, as shuttle buses are not allowed on many of the sacred lands. The tours are also popular amongst the GT citizens and residents. Wendy and I bo
oked the eastern tour four years ago, after Soon Yee started at the agency. We enjoyed it and plan to do the western tour soon.

  “Detective Randolph said he would be happy to pass on the vacancy details to his buddies in the division. I just sent his number to you” I informed Rhea. “He did want to say it might be later today before he replies. They have a couple of flights and a short drive before they get to their destination.”

  “Great, thanks for the update, Gray. I’ll text him in a bit. I need to hop on the phone now, I’m covering for a receptionist this morning, and the office still gets quite a few calls instead of online queries. Talk to you later.”

  I wished her well and went into my office. I opened the small gun safe and took out my sub-compact CZ 2075 RAMI and two 9MM magazines. The RAMI has a holster under my desk, where it stays while I am in the office. When I leave the office for the day, the RAMI and magazine return to the safe. I wear a smaller concealed carry weapon on an inside the waistband holster, along with an extra magazine, when I am out and about. It’s affectionately called my little mouse gun, an ultra-compact Beretta 21a Bobcat which used .22LR cartridges. I separate the .22 magazine from my mouse gun, and placed the holster, gun, and both magazines inside the safe. My gun safe had plenty of room to house magazines for both of my handguns, carry holsters for both guns, the guns themselves. I also have a couple of boxes of birdshot, and a few boxes of rock salt shells for my Stevens 555 over/under double-barreled shotgun. I load the shotgun with rock salt shells and securely mount it to my office wall while at work. At night when I leave, I unload my shotgun and place it back in the gun safe.

  I had the same set up at home, a gun safe with my home RAMI, extra magazines for both of my handguns, and a few boxes of shotgun shells. However, my home shotgun is a Serbu Super Shorty 12 Gauge pump action shotgun, which I also secure to either my living room or bedroom walls when home. I prefer to use the over/under at the office, since the break-open action allows the shotgun to be seen in the crook of my elbow and noted but it’s not an overt threat until I snap the barrel closed. I want to deter possible attacks, not escalate a situation unnecessarily. I carry birdshot shells with me in case I need to reload with something more substantial than rock salt. De-escalation is also why I prefer to carry my mouse gun rather than my RAMI. Only if I am under specific threat will I carry my RAMI throughout the day in its side holster. I had to carry my RAMI a couple of times after I received email threats or phone calls while the police investigated the incidents. Once resolved, I went back to my mouse gun. I’ve only had to use a gun once to defend myself.

  A little over seven years ago, soon after Sheriff Helki arrived, someone from Chicago found out my identity and came after me. The man, Hilliard, came into El Paso as a tourist on the northwestern route, which passes through the Hohokam region of SWACon. He managed to slip away from the tour group and make his way across SWACon and confront me at my original office, a small space in the middle of PsyTown Plaza Centro, the central retail and business area of PsyTown. I carried only my mouse gun, which I pulled out and was forced to use to protect myself when he attacked me. I fired a disabling shot into his upper right torso, just under his clavicle. Even though my mouse gun is only a .22, the exit wound is not insubstantial. Thankfully, he didn’t continue attacking me, as my next shot would have been a headshot. I think he was surprised that I actually fired the gun. Did he think my stance was all for funsies? Maybe he was brainwashed into thinking that only a teacup grip meant serious business, or he dismissed the small size of the gun.

  That whole experience changed several things and not just for me. Sheriff Helki did not enjoy having to investigate a civilian involved shooting, let alone a Psycept civilian, but he had grudging respect for my self-defense ability. Sheriff Helki also did not appreciate that someone was able to leave the tour and travel across SWACon with no alert being issued to the regions. This led to a stricter check-off of the tour groups entering and leaving all conservatorships, as well as a formal process for the tour guides to contact conservatorships regarding absentee members. It also spawned further background checks of possible tour group members. Prior to then, it was just the standard criminal, sex offender, drug, gang, and credit databases that were queried. The Psycept petition system has since been added to the background checks, which is why we now require a complete list of interested parties for petitions. I’m glad the process was strengthened, but I wish it wasn’t due to my incident.

  Hilliard attacked me due to a consultation I completed. Hilliard submitted a petition to investigate his wife’s disappearance. He included additional appeals from his mother-in-law, brother-in-law, his sister, and his wife’s friend. I accepted the case and performed the reading on the items received from the package. During the reading, I learned that Mrs. Hilliard had been abused by Hilliard for years and chose to leave him and not tell anyone where she went. This included her family whom she believed would take her husband’s side, because of his wealth and willingness to provide them with financial assistance.

  I don’t know why Hilliard and the family submitted a petition to have a Psycept try to find the wife. Perhaps he didn’t believe in Psycept abilities and was just trying to throw suspicion off himself. Or he may have believed a PsyChometrist would accept the petition and only be able to read the object’s history, so made sure to send items that were not associated with any time he abused her. He may not have known that PsyMemori, like me, even exist. In any event, from my reading, I found that Mrs. Hilliard was safe and in hiding, as well as where she was now located and what name she was known as. I chose to keep that information to myself, it’s not in any police report nor did I state anything aloud on the recording.

  The recording I sent back on the petition was, perhaps, not the most diplomatic. It went something like, “I know what happened. I know what her life was like. I can say she’s alive and safe, and that is all I will say on the matter.” My written report was more detailed, indicating incidents of prior abuse and specific hospital trips to outlying areas for treatment of injuries. I also included the fact that Mrs. Hilliard did not want to be contacted about the situation, to leave her out of it, but that I hoped that Hilliard could be investigated and charged with abuse. Neither the Psycept Police nor the Chicago PD appreciated that I would not provide them with her location, so they could interview her themselves. I felt no obligation to do so. They could try to appeal to her directly on social media. While I assisted in mostly criminal cases and worked with the police, any help I provided is based on the person’s memories. Thus, I follow what I feel to be the memory holder’s wishes. Not the petitioner, friends or family of the person, nor even the police.

  Hilliard did not like my recording, nor that the Chicago PD began to investigate him for abuse allegations. He managed to con a Civilian Support Service case worker on another conservatorship to get my information. Having obtained my name and location, he implemented his plan. When he confronted me, he focused on how he was going to punish me for thwarting him. But when questioned by police, he said he was merely concerned about his wife and may have gone too far in trying to obtain her whereabouts. He is currently serving time in prison. We only have two prisons in the Greater Tribe, both are in the Arctic conservatorship, so good riddance. After the attack, I decided to purchase a stand-alone office on a lot large enough to keep my dogs with me. They weren’t trained to protect or defend, but their presence may be a deterrent. Plus, they could’ve raised an alarm.

  From this, another change took place. Sheriff Helki spearheaded an effort to limit access to the Psycept database. Thereafter, only each division’s Psycept police can access the criminal case files assigned to their unit. If a case is handled outside their division, the detective or case manager’s name is listed as the point of contact, no other information is given. This is also why Psycepts working criminal cases must log the packages at various stages. If someone where to call our customer service, the representative would be able to track the package rec
eipt, transport, pending, or completed status to provide limited information to the caller. But the name of the Psycept handling the petition or the outcome of the request is not available for them to read.

  All these precautions seemed to work as I’ve not had another experience like that, nor have I heard of any other incidents. Some cases have unwelcome outcomes and vague threats are issued and I take precautions then. But no specific threats have been delivered. Thinking of Sheriff Helki, I log into my computer to follow up on his upcoming meeting.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  O’ke accepted my calendar meeting request for Thursday afternoon, and had begun the preliminary compiling of the six months of data. She would add the reports to newly created folder in our document sharing system. Mark had not replied yet, but that was expected as his and Liaison Lowell’s mornings started closer to 9 a.m.; they were so lucky.

  I switched gears and began to polish up a presentation I finished yesterday morning for one of my long-term clients. After correcting a few missed punctuations and some font size issues, and fact checking the numbers, I sent the presentation to my client for final approval. Next, Dani sent me a couple of new client proposals and a contract renewal to review. I sent the documents back to her with my edits in green. I do not like red-line edits, I think it looks too harsh. Residual feelings from receiving my graded tests and papers back from my mother with red ink marks throughout, I suppose.

  I continued to steadily work my way through my morning tasks and projects, as well as reply to incoming emails and the occasional phone call. An hour before my lunch break, I set the agendas for my upcoming Thursday afternoon meetings and sent them out to their respective parties. With a sense of accomplishment, I headed to the breakroom to eat my lunch, a fresh salad with all my favorites and homemade Honey French dressing. I was attempting to balance out the delicious brisket from last night. Worth it.