Psi Another Day (Psi Fighter Academy)

by D. R. Rosensteel

“What about Peroxide?”

  “I don’t have anything to say to Peroxide.” Mason turned toward me.

  Tammy got up. “This stinks, Mason. Let’s go. Boot! Chew!”

  “You go. I gotta get to class.” Agatha glanced quickly at me, smiled shyly, then left.

  “All right,” Angel yelled. “The Red Team doesn’t need you!” Then she walked away, dragging Boot with her.

  “I have a lot to say to Rinnie, though.” Mason touched my arm.

  “I have a lot to say to you, too. You saved my sister and me in the alley. You risked—”

  Mason put his hand over my mouth. “Me first.”

  “Don’t make me break that other arm.” The little ninth grader pushed between Mason and me, crossing his arms.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “He’s one of the good guys.”

  The ninth grader surveyed Mason with his head tilted, lips pursed. Then he looked up at me and nodded as if he approved. Turning to walk away, he said, “We aren’t afraid anymore. Call if you need me.”

  “I will. Thanks.”

  Without warning, Mason picked me up in his arms like I was a toothpick, and hugged me. His cast dug into my ribs, but it was okay. He felt warm, and suddenly a memory flashed unasked into my mind. Mason was hugging his dad, and they were both crying. But it was happy crying.

  “I helped my dad and Dalrymple round up the drug ring,” Mason said. His blue eyes glistened. “Some pretty important people went down. That’s the phone call you heard me take in the hall.”

  “Mason, I’m so—”

  He held up his hand and smiled. “It’s okay. You didn’t know. And I never really gave you any reason to trust me, did I? So let me set the record straight. I don’t make drugs. I don’t push drugs. I never did drugs.”

  “Psychedone 10. In the park.”

  “Never knowingly did drugs. And once I figured out what Scallion was up to, I went straight to my dad.”

  “How’s your dad taking it?”

  “It’s weird, you know, I thought he’d be pretty mad. But he told me he’s proud of me. Says Mom would be, too. I don’t know why. I probably ruined his political career.”

  “Maybe he thinks there are more important things.”

  “Yeah. Maybe.”

  “Thanks for saving my sister and me in the alley.”

  “Any time.” Mason gazed at me thoughtfully. “Thanks for whatever it is you did to me that day in the park.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Mason smiled, and turned to leave. Then he stopped. “Hey, I’m on the Dweeb League now, so if you have an opening for a body guard, I’d like to apply. I have good references.”

  “So I hear. As a matter of fact, I have the first interview question. Why did you always act like you were so afraid of Egon?”

  Mason did the cutest eyebrow raise at me. “Because…he could kick my butt. That was no act.”

  “And you still protected me against him in the alley?”

  “Thought it would look good on my résumé.”

  “Okay. Good enough.” I suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to throw my arms around him.

  He turned to leave again, but stopped one more time.

  “Rinnie?”

  “Yeah?”

  “The hole I told you about? I think it’s getting better.”

  That made me smile.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  The Looking Glass

  The Four rarely show up in class at the same time. When they do, we never know what to expect, but one of them always has a surprise—sometimes bad news, sometimes good.

  It’s very difficult to tell them apart. Their masks aren’t identical, but the differences are subtle. Andy explained to me once that they are each named according to kung fu tradition by dan, which is like level of expertise. Kilodan, Teradan, Gigadan, and Megadan, the highest levels in the Mental Arts. Traditional kung fu skill is mostly physical, but the Psi Fighter’s power comes from her feelings. A master of the Mental Arts has reached the highest levels of compassion, kindness, and love. These are the most powerful of all emotions. And, I have to admit, the hardest for a teen to deal with. I tend to get wrapped up in bitterness, jealousy, and fear of spiders. Maybe it gets easier when you get older. Although I can’t imagine ever liking spiders.

  Susie stood in the center of the training floor surrounded by The Four. She looked so tiny, but stood confidently in the midst of the Psi Fighters’ most powerful members. The Kilodan hovered beside her like a mother hen. A thick oak board dangled in front of her, suspended by a string. I tensed in my seat as my sister slowly extended her hand. Susie’s fingers shot out like tendrils and rested delicately on the board.

  “Concentrate,” I said under my breath.

  After what seemed an eternity, Susie’s hair poofed, her shoulders twitched, and the board exploded with an ear-shattering crack. Shards flew everywhere, and one landed in my lap. I squeezed it in my hand, overwhelmed with joy. The room was silent.

  Suddenly the Kilodan stopped hovering and did the Curly Shuffle as his emotionless electronic voice hummed, “We have a winner.” Apparently this whole ordeal had loosened him up a bit.

  “I did it!” Susie shouted, and joined the Kilodan in his dance.

  Beethoven’s Fifth came blaring across the sound system, and Andy waltzed across the room to the beat. He stopped in front of me, held out his hand and bowed. “May I have this dance?”

  “You can’t dance to this.”

  “I,” Andy said, placing his hand over his heart, “can dance to anything. But, if you insist…” He pressed a button on his armor and “Save You Tonight” blasted.

  “You’ve upgraded your iTunes library?”

  “Expanding my horizons,” Andy said. “The sacrifices I make for you.”

  The whole school jumped to its feet and began dancing. Andy leapt to the sparring floor and performed an extraordinary One Direction.

  A gong rang, signifying the end of our little break. The Four bowed, and we returned the salute. The Four were usually very somber, but tonight they seemed as cheerful as emotionless people could be. Their masks were angelic like the rest of ours, but whereas mine and Andy’s had beautiful smiles and happy eyes, theirs were wide-eyed and completely unexpressive, like angels in deep thought. They all seemed tall, but I knew that was an illusion they somehow created when they were together. Their Mental Arts skills were so powerful they didn’t need Amplifiers.

  The Kilodan stepped back, and the Megadan held up his hand. We all became quiet.

  “It is no longer news to us,” he started, his voice completely without inflection, “that Nicolaitan has resurfaced after ten years. Some of you will recall the devastation he caused, and how Andor Manchild defeated him in single combat after he murdered the Morgan family. He escaped before we were able to end him.”

  I touched Andy’s shoulder. He turned to me and smiled, but pain filled his eyes. He leaned close and put his arm around me.

  “He, like we, does not show himself,” our masked leader continued. “Rather, Nicolaitan makes his presence known by his actions. Lynn and Susan have defeated his Knight, but you can be certain that he will continue to pursue his heinous mission to destroy us. He will terrorize innocents to draw us into the open. The drug ring has been rounded up, but we do not know the location of their production facilities. The police searched Old Torrents Labs but found nothing. The danger is not yet over. We are on full alert. Assignments will be made. Patrols must be established. If there are no questions, class dismissed.”

  Wow. Short and to the point. That’s how The Four did things. The students filed out. I started for my changing closet when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

  “You did well,” the Kilodan said.

  I’m pretty sure it was the Kilodan. They all look alike, and they all stood right behind me. “Thank you. I can’t believe Susie levitated. I always thought that was a myth.”

  The Megadan stepped forward, hands behind his back. “It is
a poor myth that doesn’t have some basis in truth.” He leaned toward me. “We are a myth, aren’t we?”

  “More like a fairy tale. Does Psychedone 10 really enhance mental abilities, or is that just a myth, too?”

  The Megadan’s mask let out a flatulent sound. “The Knights have always looked for an easy way. Always without success.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Mental Arts mastery can only be achieved by faith, practice and dedication. Nicolaitan created Psychedone 10 to give the illusion of mastering the Arts. He is all about illusion. In the end, drugs kill. But you, young lady, are much more than illusion, aren’t you?”

  “Well, sometimes in school I give the illusion that I’m paying attention.”

  “I know. And I may have to give you detention if you don’t stay out of that boiler room.” A psionic yardstick burst from the Megadan’s hand.

  My heart stopped. I looked at the Kilodan, then back to the Megadan. “Mrs. Ba—”

  “In time, my dear, you will learn all our identities, as we feel the need to reveal ourselves. You and I have much to do. Our school is not yet safe.”

  “I—”

  “Naturally, I need not remind you that, while Kathryn is approved by the Whisperers…”

  I shook my head, still in shock. “No, this is something even Kathryn can’t know. I’m not sure it’s such a good idea that I know.”

  “Of course it is,” the Kilodan said. “Enough talk. It’s time for you to practice.”

  I got the distinct impression that the Kilodan was laughing his butt off. “Umm, okay. I’ll get Andy.”

  “No need.” The Kilodan bowed. “Today, you train with The Four.”

  I blushed. Me, training with The Four. Everything had turned out so much better than I could have imagined. Life was good. Sometimes I just forgot.

  My reflection stared at me from the mirror on the classroom wall. Tall and thin, I stood up straight. My feet were sort of big, and my knees were maybe a little knobby. My blond hair wasn’t luxurious like Kathryn’s, but it was kind of pretty. I still wasn’t allowed to wear jeans with holes in them, but holes just let cold air in, so who needed them? I pictured my house and my family. Then I thought of Mason, and I felt warm.

  I searched the mirror, and saw an ordinary girl smiling back at me. She was a Psi Fighter, and ordinary was a requirement for hiding in the open. She wasn’t glamorous like a movie star. She looked as ordinary as any person walking down the street. Just ordinary…in a real butt-kicking sort of way.

  I giggled a little, then laughed out loud.

  Ordinary, I decided, was really pretty great. I dropped into my fighting stance, ready to take on The Four.

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Here We Go Again

  A softly flickering light and a voice I could barely hear woke me from a beautiful dreamless slumber. Ugh. I rolled over toward the glow. There on my nightstand stood a tiny Andy, bent over an R2D2-shaped garbage can. He wore a Princess Leia wig.

  “Help me, Rinnie-wan, you’re my only hope.”

  Andy’s hologram floated irritatingly over an MP3 player that he had given to me earlier that day. He told me to keep it beside my bed at night, because he was testing out some new technology he had just invented. I should have known it wasn’t a normal MP3 player. Nothing Andy did was normal.

  “What!” I snapped, irked to be ripped from my much-needed beauty sleep.

  The little Andy stepped away from the garbage can and looked up at me. “Somebody’s cranky.” He adjusted his wig. “Does this make me look fat?”

  “No. It makes you look annoying. Like that stupid alarm clock you’re standing on.”

  “Alarm clock? Do you think I would waste precious moments creating something that does nothing more than wake you up at inconvenient hours?”

  “You’ve wasted precious moments on other useless things.”

  “True, but I have redefined uselessness with this baby. HD video, play and record, oodles of music in any format you like, and holographic communication, anytime, anywhere. The Psi Fighter’s dream. Comes in blue, red, and metallic purple.”

  “So this irritating little device is your version of the Bat Signal?”

  “Close. I call it—are you ready for this?—the psiPhone.”

  I pulled my pillow over my head and moaned. “I need sleep.”

  “See, this is the downside to successfully completing a big mission. You get more missions.”

  “I don’t want another mission,” I mumbled into the mattress. “I want another twelve hours of sleep.” Then I popped up. “What kind of mission?”

  “Dalrymple called. Apparently, there’s about to be a murder.”

  “Apparently? He’s not sure?”

  “Well, there’s no body. Just an ominous note hinting that there will be one soon.”

  “How ominous?”

  “It’s a badly written limerick.”

  “That’s ominous.” I lay back down under my pillow. “Does this thing have a snooze button?”

  “Forgot to add that feature. Okay, let’s make a deal. I’ll show you the note. You tell me what it means, then if you think it’s not important, you can go back to sleepy time. Deal?”

  “Deal.”

  “Take a gander at this.” Little Andy pulled a tiny piece of paper from his pocket and held it up.

  “And how exactly am I supposed to read that itty bitty thing?”

  “Hit zoom. Duh.”

  “Oh. Right.” I double-tapped the screen and the note grew in Andy’s hand. Soon it was the size of a suitcase, and covered Andy completely. Smooth cursive writing jumped out at me. I pushed myself up on my elbows to read.

  There once was an old high school robber,

  Who over a young lass did slobber,

  But the Passage was home,

  And it caused him to roam,

  Which led to one fine Danse Macabre.

  “Whoever the bad guy is, he can’t spell. Dance has a C, not an S. He murdered the poem, but that’s the only crime I see.”

  “Do you know what the Danse Macabre is?”

  “Yeah, it’s like macramé, right? You knit little quilts and scarves and things when you’re old and senile.”

  “Remind me never to interrupt your sleep again.”

  “Didn’t I already make that clear?”

  “Let’s make something else clear. Think back to the events of the past few weeks. Somehow, Nicolaitan got into Munificent’s head and saw the Morgan girl that he had kidnapped ten years ago. That would be you. He rightly assumed that the girl had been placed in the Academy’s version of a witness protection program with a new identity. There’s no way he could make the connection to you and your new family, but he deduced that the girl was a student at the Greensburg High School. So he planted Scallion, disguised as Egon, to learn her identity. He told Scallion to cause pain and suffering to innocent victims, because that would draw any Psi Fighter into the open. Hence the Psychedone 10.”

  “And what does this have to do with dunce macabre?”

  “Danse Macabre is a play where Death summons people to follow him to the grave. Nicolaitan has a twisted sense of humor, and loves theatrics and poetry. The heat is officially on. He’s taunting us and making no bones about it. His little scheme at your school failed. His plan was to find out if the little girl he kidnapped ten years ago is indeed back and enrolled in Greensburg High School. Thanks to Egon’s massive ego, he didn’t learn anything useful. So now, he plans to murder people and leave us clues to the identity of his next victim. He wants to find us. He wants to find you. Now, who in your school fits this description?”

  “Description? How can you get a description out of such a lousy limerick?”

  “Let me ask this, O Sleepy One. Who in your school could be described as a robber?”

  “Oh, that’s easy. The Red Team, every one of Mason’s former cronies, and three or four hundred others.”

  “Now we’re getting somewhere. And w
ho, out of that group of Greensburg’s finest, hangs out at the Shadow Passage?”

  “All of them, Andy.”

  Andy’s hologram banged its head off the garbage can. “You’re not trying.”

  “Andy, it’s three a.m. in the morning.”

  “Three a.m. is always in the morning.”

  “Ugh!” I pulled the pillow back over my head and mumbled, “Good night, Andy.”

  “Let me ask you this. Which of them had a crush on a young girl?”

  “Well, Chuckie Cuff liked Tish, but Tish was with Whatsisface, so that went nowhere. Rubric’s main squeeze was Psychedone 10, so there were no girls that I know of, thank goodness. Mason had a crush on me, which I wanted nothing to do with.”

  “I noticed you used past tense, darling.”

  “Did I?” I got warm at the thought, but a disturbing idea popped into my head. “Andy, the Shadow Passage was Mason’s home away from home before he turned into a good guy.”

  “I know. And he tried to steal Christie Jasmine from Scallion.”

  “He thought he was saving her from Captious. Oh, Andy, no…” I sat up in bed.

  “Afraid so. I believe Mr. Draudimon is the target, and unless you want to attend his funeral, you’d better get your butt out of bed and down to the Academy.”

  “I’m on my way,” I said, and I leapt from beneath the covers.

  Acknowledgments

  I want to thank all the wonderful people who helped produce this book.

  To my Agent Extraordinaire, SuperNic Resciniti, for taking a chance on me simply because of the “birds have smooth brains” line.

  To The Publisher Who Will Change the World, Liz Pelletier, for her visionary mind.

  To my Amazing Editors, Stacy Abrams, Guillian Helm, and Nancy Cantor, whose brilliant ideas and very hard questions really whipped the story into shape.

  To my Incredible Publicity Team, Morgan Maulden, Katie Clapsadl, Debbie Suzuki, and Heather Riccio, whose awesomeness will make the Psi Fighters a household name.

  To Every Author’s Go To Girl, Sarah Weiss, who can answer questions we haven’t even thought of.

  To my family, for putting up with me.

  And most importantly, to God. He made me, and I’m happy about that.