‘Anti-Psi Kids’, they called themselves. Not very imaginative, since all that meant was ‘we’re against kids with psychic powers’. But perhaps they thought imagination was also an advanced mind power. He chuckled, then stopped. The lines of code had stopped, and the group was exposed to him. Now time to have a look around. Anonymously of course.
Within a few seconds, he had found some of the most active discussion threads. While their name might not have been very imaginative, their discussions were. He scrolled through pages and pages of wild accusations about so-called mental powers; people with all kinds of ugly screen aliases such as ‘psycrusher’ and ‘BeatThePaths’. Quentin Tannerbuckle—one day he would remember the guy’s name properly—would have great fun with these guys on his show.
But a few more minutes of hunting revealed something much worse. Although the group had clear knowledge, if not a somewhat flawed understanding that Prof had discovered kids with special mental abilities, they had exaggerated them to sound like ridiculous superpowers. Someone had spilled the beans about the Prof’s project to these groups.
His anger grew the more he read through. Ignorance and hate filled so many of the threads, each person’s remarks fuelling the other. He sucked in his breath. If these guys ever discovered the real Dreamer Kids and the Prof’s research, they’d all be in trouble.
One active contributor, ‘Smacker’, was particularly obnoxious, stirring up anti-psi sentiment, even if his—or her—ability to articulate was not great. One line nudged something in his head. ‘Smacker’ had posted the following: ‘I seen kids what looked strange round my school. Me and me mates gonna track them ones down and follow them. Bet they are mind-benders.’
He scratched his head. Why did those speech patterns sound familiar? Someone from school? He almost pictured them ... then it was gone, and his mind drew a blank. But wait. He had admin access. He slapped his head. He’d been so drawn in by the hate and his loathing of the nastiness on the site, he’d forgotten he did have superpowers. Super-ADMIN-powers. Maybe he could find out more information about each of these people by looking up their hidden profile information. He snorted. Maybe some of them would be dumb enough to have used their real name somewhere when they joined. He looked at the screen for a brief moment.
He smiled. “Alright, Smacker. You’re first.” His smile broadened to a grin. ‘Track them ones down’ indeed. Now it’s you that’s gonna be tracked down, he thought.
His fingers danced over the keys as he found the logs. The site’s owners were well-versed in self-protection, in case things got out of hand. It occurred to him it was a little odd that the backend of the site was so professionally constructed. Someone had gone to great lengths. Logs to track everything. They must be nervous about something getting out of hand and needed to be able to distance themselves. But they wouldn’t track him. He’d hacked in and was invisible. Until they worked out there had been a breach. Either way, he’d better be careful.
Smacker’s profile loaded on the screen, and Nathan scrolled through the substantial logs. This guy—or girl—had been busy. He paged down until he found what he was looking for: the sign-up log.
His eyes widened. No wonder the speech patterns were so familiar. The name stared out at him, daring him to let his anger spill into rage. But Nathan knew that would be exactly what the unpleasant bully from his old school would want. It turned out he did know someone stupid enough to use their real name at their initial sign-up: David Sawyer. Otherwise known as Davo, leader of the Sawyer gang.
He gritted his teeth. Davo Sawyer wouldn’t get the pleasure of his anger. Instead he would use the cold and calculated knot in his stomach to infiltrate Davo’s world and spy on them.
Nathan smiled as he created his own profile—there would be no logs or real name to expose him—and sent Smacker a message and a friend request. He made sure to stuff his message with suitable objections to kids with superpowers, praising Smacker’s activity on the site and promising to join in the cries for action.
He thought ‘Smacker’ would be only too pleased to accept the request from his new friend, ‘Knuckles’.
~ 11 ~
The Shadow
The shorter, and older, of the two men waited for the room service waiter to leave, then picked up his drink. He took a sip, and addressed the man on the lounge chair opposite. “Harrison has not responded?”
The younger man shook his head. Both were silhouetted in the darkened room; the blinds were pulled. He spoke softly. “We are certain he has received and understands our demands. But no, he has not provided us with the machine. Yet.” The last word said with an ominous undertone.
“Be careful. On two counts. First: the Professor is no fool. You can be sure he is using all his resources—which as you know are not inconsiderable—to track us down, and expose us to those who would do us harm. Secondly, we cannot risk coming out into the open and revealing ourselves. We have powerful masters to serve. Ones who would not enjoy public attention.”
“They want their ultra-weapons though.” The second man now reached for his drink. “Don’t forget that. Without our ... capabilities ... they will not see that machine, nor be able to utilise its power. For which they will pay good money.”
“Speaking of our capabilities,” the first man said, “what is the progress of the Shadow?”
The second man put down his drink. The profile of his face suggested he was smiling. “The Shadow is progressing rather well. So far he has the girl in custody, and he informs me the boy has been tracked using one of our sites—or should I say, hacking into one of our sites—and he will shortly be joining the girl.”
“And the notebook?”
“Nothing of any significance.” The man spoke casually, as though to a friend in a café. “Other than confirming these two would be important to our project.” He hesitated. “There is one complication.”
The other man raised his eyes and waited.
“The girl’s companion, an adult woman in a wheelchair was also captured.”
“But you’ve taken precautions, yes? As we agreed? Insurance against this possibility—and the Russians.”
The second man nodded. “We will have no concerns. But in any case, our objective is to procure the machine at any cost. What is your next step? Harrison’s hand must be forced.”
The older man sat back, wiped his hand over his balding head, then scratched under one eye, in what appeared to be a habitual response to deep thought. After a few moments he spoke. “Step up the pressure on our dear Professor. Have your people intensify the activity in the anti-psi kids group—perhaps organise a few public displays of anger at the government. We need him to be running scared and worried for his so-called children. Eventually he will realise even his connections are dwarfed in power compared to that of our ... colleagues. He will have no choice. Sentiment will be riding high against him and his kind.”
The second man nodded. “We will have all the children on the list by then. He won’t know which way to turn. But what do you wish me to tell the Shadow? You know how difficult he can be. He doesn’t like to have others involved. And he has an inherent hatred of smart kids; I’d hate to be on his bad side.”
“Then don’t tell him. He’s never failed us yet, but that’s no reason not to cover all our bases. Let me repeat: our clients will be unforgiving. They want this machine, and if we fail them ...”
“Understood. We’ll use every tactic at hand. And keep even the Shadow in the dark.”
“How appropriate.” The older man rose. “Make sure this room is wiped.”
He turned and left the other sipping his drink and thumbing a number into his phone.
“Yes it is. Have the Cleaner here in three minutes. I want you to stir up some drama in our little group—some demonstrations; perhaps have a few rocks thrown, preferably not too far from Downing Street. Make sure no one gets caught.” He hung up and slowly finished his drink, nodded to himself and stood to await the Cleaner.
&n
bsp; ~ 12 ~
Panic
Nathan left the house early the next morning. If he skated by the lab on his way to the school, he’d be able to catch the Prof at work. As far as he could make out in his research, the Prof should have finished his appearance before the committee and would be back at work. He’d been reluctant to leave any message in case someone else read it. The situation was delicate, that was for sure. And he still hadn’t got hold of Sarina to warn her. He’d try again from the lab.
He punted his board along, caught up in his thoughts about Smacker’s acceptance of his friend request. They’d had an entertaining—in Nathan’s mind—discussion all about how the smart kids always got all the attention, and what they would do when they found out where these psi-kids lived. He’d panicked when Smacker had told him someone had discovered a mole in the anti-psi kids organisation, and that they were ‘gonna fix him up’. But it was clear Smacker had no idea his new friend ‘knuckles’ was the mole. But ... it was always good to be careful.
He had no time to avoid the black van that swerved in front of him and he cannoned into it almost at full pelt.
He picked himself up off the ground, shaken, but unhurt, and strode to the driver’s window bristling. “Hey—”
A pair of strong arms grabbed him from behind and bundled him into the van’s dark interior through a now-open sliding door. His skateboard was thrown in after him and the door slammed shut, and left him in darkness. He fumbled for something to hold onto and fell backwards into a seat as the van raced away.
“Hey! What’s going on?” He banged on the side of the van, but his hand only made a dull thud. Soundproof. He sat back, reeling. What was going on? Had he been kidnapped? That only happened in the movies. And who would want him—a kid on a skateboard from a poor area of town? The van was moving fast, bumping and jarring him, so he reached around for a seatbelt. No point in getting hurt if these crazies had an accident.
Ten minutes later, the bumpiness subsided into a smooth, droning—and straight—journey. Nathan assumed they were now on a motorway. Where was he being taken? He started to shake as shock set in. As bad as the fights with Makthryg and Valkrog had been, he’d always known what he was up against. But this? He had no idea. He tried to breathe deeply without success, and resigned himself to be alone and frightened in a dark van, as it sped to an unknown fate.
~ 13 ~
And Then There Were Three
Sarina heard the loud grinding sounds of heavy gears starting. She grabbed Rona’s arm. “Rona—the door’s opening. Maybe we’re being released? Maybe someone paid the ransom?”
Rona looked grim. “Let’s hope so. This isn’t exactly a comfortable hotel. The thought of another night sleeping on those”—she pointed to the thin camping mats a man had brought them after delivering the promised food—“doesn’t thrill me.”
“I feel the same way about the toilets.” Sarina remembered being led up endless stairs, blindfold, and shown into a dirty and smelly cubicle that barely deserved to be called a toilet. Sewage dump would have been more appropriate, considering the liquid she didn’t dare to think about, puddled around the floor next to the toilet pan.
The large sliding door had moved across, then stopped. Rona and Sarina looked at each other and started to move to the narrow opening. A gruff voice from the other side said, “Move inside. Not fight again.” Someone grunted and a boy was shoved through the narrow gap. He whipped around to face whoever had shoved him, and yelled over the noisy machinery as the door ground closed. “You’ll pay for this. I’ll ... I’ll ... I have friends in high places! You don’t know who you’re dealing with!” He stopped and sat down, and began to cry.
“Nathan?” Sarina walked over to the boy and knelt beside him. “Nathan, is that you?” The snuffling ceased.
“Yeb, it is. And I wasn’t crying, I just had a blocked doze.” Nathan turned to look at Sarina. His nose was bleeding and he had a black eye.
Sarina gasped. “Nathan! What have they done to you?”
He looked glum. “I tried to escape. On dis.” He held up one half of a broken skateboard that Sarina hadn’t noticed he was clutching until now. “Dey caught me and de big guy smacked me.” He grinned. “Bub nob before I cracked hib in the shibs with my boarb.” He waved the broken board in the air. “Broke it.”
“Here, take this.” Rona rolled up to them and held out a tissue. “I usually have a pack handy, but this is my last, I’m afraid. Take it. You need it more than me.”
Nathan took the tissue and dabbed it around his nose. “Ow. Hobe it’s not broken. You bust be Roba.”
“Rona.” Rona said.
“Yeb, that’s what I said.”
“What happened?” Sarina said. “I have no idea why we’re here on this boat, and even less idea why you’re here, or what’s going on.”
Nathan dabbed at his nose again and looked at the tissue. “I think it’s stopped.” He looked at Sarina. “It’s a ship, not a boat.”
“Bah!” Sarina threw her hands in the air. “Whatever! Will somebody just tell me what’s going on!”
“You’re not going to like it,” Nathan said, flinching in advance of her reaction.
“Sorry.” Sarina tried to calm herself down. “I feel like I’m going mad, or I’m in some crazy dream. And speaking of going mad—wait—what do you mean, ‘I’m not going to like it?’”
Nathan stood and brushed himself down. “Someone is blackmailing the Professor. They want the collider.”
“That’s not my problem any more, is it?”
Nathan eyed her carefully. “Blackmailers usually have some kind of power over the person they are blackmailing. That’s what forces them to give up money or whatever. Which is the collider, in this case, though they obviously have no idea the Prof doesn’t have it.”
Sarina let her anger go. “So what power does this blackmailer have?”
“Us.”
Sarina and Rona stared at him.
“I told you you wouldn’t like it. But now that we’ve got that out of the way, we should share how we got here and how we’re going to escape. Any clues as to the type of ship we’re on?”
~ 14 ~
Pencils And Papers
An hour later, they had exhausted almost all their stories. Except one. Sarina looked at Nathan. “Yes?”
“So what was the great secret your great-aunts were hiding?”
“This is one you’re not going to like.”
Nathan narrowed his eyes. “I’m not sure what’s worse than the mess we’re already in. Hit me with it.”
Sarina told him.
Nathan’s mouth hung open for several seconds. “So your great-aunts never actually went—”
“Exactly. They were sent mad by some meddling scientist who twisted their brains—probably with the forerunner of Professor Harrison and Professor Malden’s collider. I bet your evil great-great-grandfather was onto the idea of the rem-particle.”
Nathan stroked his chin. “Amazing. He probably exposed their heads to some high-intensity wormhole-type radiation—hey! Stop that!” Sarina was slapping his arm.
“Do you know how much stress that caused me? Knowing there was a history of mental illness in my family, and having those blackouts—caused by another meddling scientist? And now I find out that YOUR great-great-grandfather started it all? You’re impossible.” She stalked off, leaving Nathan to raise his hands in a gesture of helplessness at Rona, but she didn’t care. The mess they were all in now had nothing to do with her—and now there was no way out. By the time the kidnappers found out there was no collider any more, she’d already have incurred Drysdale’s wrath at not showing up. There’d be no more art school—assuming they were rescued, and not just dumped over the side of the ship once they became of no value to the kidnappers. She felt a hand on her arm and whipped around. “No, Nathan, I—oh. Sorry, Rona.”
Rona looked at her. “You have to let it go, Sarina. He’s your friend, not your ene—”
The
sound of the door’s mechanism stopped them both. All three of them watched the door make its ponderous journey, and Sarina wondered if their captors had been listening. Perhaps they now knew there was no collider, and that this was it; their time was up. She kicked herself for talking about it so loudly, but it was already too late. The door opened wider, and she heard a familiar noise.
The sound of a large group of young children.
And then they were swamped by about thirty scared-looking young kids—most of the faces Sarina knew from the Prof’s labs. A few that were almost her age she could put names to: Nancy, Jimmy, Tim; some she didn’t know at all.
Some of the younger ones recognised her, and ran over to hug her tearfully—she saw Nathan was receiving the same treatment. Rona took some of the remaining wide-eyed arrivals into her embrace as best she could, and looked over their heads at Sarina with a worried expression.
Now they had an even bigger problem.
~~~
Some minutes passed before the three of them managed to restore enough calm for Sarina to talk. She stood in the middle of all the kids, put her finger up to her lips for silence, and held one hand in the air for them all to pay attention. Silence fell, and she waited until all eyes were on her. She looked over at Nathan, who gestured with one hand as if to say “... and?” But she knew what she had to do. The arrival of the other children had stirred something inside her, and she’d put her own troubles to one side. Now it wasn’t only about her, or Nathan and Rona. Whoever was doing this—and she was starting to understand what their game was—had gone way too far this time.
The Dreamer Chronicles Trilogy Boxed Set Vol I - III: A Sci-Fi Parallel Universe Adventure (The Dreamer Chronicles - Science Fiction For Kids And Adults) Page 72