Ren Series Boxed Set

by Sarah Noffke

  “So how does this work?” Adelaide says.

  I flip to another section, my instinct leading the way. “Listen to this,” I say, unprepared to answer her questions. “‘I am therefore inclined to assume that the real root of alchemy is to be sought less in philosophical doctrines than in the projections of individual investigators. I mean by this that while working on his chemical experiments the operator had certain psychic experiences which appeared to him as the particular behavior of the chemical process,’” I say, reading from the textbook.

  “What does that all mean? This is kind of mind-boggling,” Adelaide says.

  I nod, having no choice but to agree. “It means that I suspect she’s reflecting off an element. That would be the only way.”

  “What? That’s possible?” she says.

  “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out,” I say, staring down at the page, but not seeing words. “And I suspect she must have a clairvoyant aspect to her skills. That would allow her to take the events she doesn’t want the news reporters to forecast and reflect so much energy on them that they aren’t something we can see. She’s transferring it,” I say, my mind sifting through the possibilities.

  “Like when you blind someone with a mirror and light?” Adelaide says, sounding lost in thought as well.

  “Exactly,” I say, thumbing through the book.

  “Well, although that’s highly interesting, how does it help you with the case to know those specifics?” she says.

  I snap the book shut, having found exactly what I needed. “Because firstly, it’s important to know everything about the people you’re working to stop. And, secondly, now that I know how she does it, I can stop her from blinding our clairvoyants,” I say, confidence filling my recently thundering head.

  “How? How are you going to blind her?”

  “I’m going to break her fucking mirror,” I say.

  “How are you going to do that?” she asks.

  I grimace. “Technology,” I say, making for my bedroom. I have work to do.

  “Oh, and another thing,” Adelaide says at my back.

  I turn and regard her with an impatient stare.

  “The file said that her reasons for abducting the people connected to the potential weapons wasn’t clear,” Adelaide says.

  “Right,” I chirp, my feet antsy to move. “There isn’t a common thread to me. Some are Middlings. Some kids. No real powers that she can employ.”

  “But in all cases it’s the person that is closest to the weapon,” she says, an expectant look on her face.

  “Yes,” I say, drawing out the word.

  “Well…” Adelaide says with a conceited tone.

  “Well what?” I say.

  “Well, if you wanted me to do something and ensure I did it properly then you’d have to have something to motivate me. Like steal my best friend and threaten to kill them if I didn’t comply,” she says in a rush, like it’s streaming easily out of her brain. “I bet you anything that in that first case, where the two women died, the one taken as an assassin was unwilling to comply.”

  “So Blocker killed them both,” I say, my eyes unfocused as this all pieces together.

  “Yeah, that makes sense to me. And then Blocker has proven that she’s not messing around, which earned her compliance when she abducted the next pair,” Adelaide says.

  I blink at her, struck by how simple an idea that is and yet never occurred. How is that possible? I think of everything. “Right, good point,” I finally say.

  “Excellent point, I’d say,” she says proudly, tying her arms in front of her chest.

  “Well, I guess no one’s getting your compliance,” I say.

  “Oh, because I don’t have any best friends,” she says, not hurt by my remark but rather looking amused.

  “Exactly,” I say.

  “Oh, I don’t know, they could take you,” she says with a devilish grin.

  I give her a repulsed look and then turn. “Well, I’m going to go be sick now. Thank you very much,” I say and leave.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “What you’re saying doesn’t make sense,” Aiden, the daft scientist, says, pushing up his ridiculous oversized black glasses on his face.

  “It makes flawless sense. Don’t point fingers at me for your inability to understand elementary concepts,” I say.

  A laugh bursts out of his mouth. He’s always doing that. Laughing. Like he’s got a bloody condition where everything triggers him to open his dumb mouth and allow that repugnant sound to fall out.

  “A person can’t block the presence of psychic energy, only reflect it? Are you sure this isn’t a case of semantics?” he says.

  “No, it’s not bloody semantics,” I growl. “Since you obviously know nothing about theory then I’m not sure why you’d comprehend the specifics of what we’re dealing with.”

  Another dumb laugh. “I have a Ph.D. in quantum physics. I think I can wrap my mind around a few theories.”

  “I have a Ph.D.,” I say in a mocking voice. “Then fine, listen up, Mr. Smarty-Pants. If we were up against an actual blocker, which I’ve never ever heard of, then we would be powerless to stop them. They would shield the energy. End of story. But this gal we’re dealing with, she’s not blocking the events. In essence, she’s reflecting onto the events and that’s why we can’t see them. I hope you’re following me when I say ‘in essence.’ I mean metaphorically speaking. As in not really, but this is how I’m attempting to explain it in a symbolic manner. Got me, monkey boy?”

  He nods profusely at me and waves his hand. “Yeah, I’m following. Go on,” Aiden says impatiently.

  I smile inside a little as I sense his frustration. “Well, as I was saying, our villain is shining something on the events so they’re impossible to see. And the reason we are getting glimpses of the ones we do see is because she’s there.”

  “And you can’t completely reflect off something if you’re in it,” he says, half to himself, his tone excited.

  “Now you’re getting it, chimp,” I say.

  He scratches his head, his long brow crinkling. “Maybe I’m getting it. Sort of. But I’m not sure I really understand how you think this woman is doing this reflecting.”

  “Probably not a woman. Probably a demon in a tight dress and sexy shoes. But here’s what I found,” I say, thumping the book on his countertop. “In here there’s a case where a subject could direct their mental prowess at an element and stop psychic energy,” I say.

  “Wait, so you think that she’s not shielding the event from being seen?”

  “No, she’s stopping Roya specifically from seeing them. She’s a reflector. She’s the light, that’s her power anyway, and when she directs it at an element then it reflects, creating a blinding force,” I say.

  “Stopping a clairvoyant from being able to see? That’s her power?” he says, sounding mostly confused, but also a little excited.

  “Bingo bango, dumbass,” I say in a bored voice. “Actually I think she could direct the energy a lot of ways, but this is the choice the vixen has made.”

  “Right,” Aiden says, scratching his head, still looking confused. “So then if she’s the light, what’s the mirror she’s using?”

  “Ahhh, yes. That’s where my friend alchemy comes in,” I say.

  “I didn’t know you two were friends,” Aiden says with a stupid laugh.

  “Shut up,” I say dryly. “Now pause briefly from shutting up to tell me something. Does Roya always report from the Institute?”

  “Of course. She’s hardly ever away from here for any reason,” he says.

  “Well, to reflect off something one would need the proper surface. A shiny element,” I say, holding up a hand and angling it at the walls. Aiden’s eyes fly to where I’m indicating and then pop open wider. Then his gaze darts to the metal walls all around us. The ones that surround everyone everywhere no matter where they are in the Institute. Metal is what the Institute is comprised of.


  “Oh shit. Metal is her reflector. When she directs her power at it then she can block a psychic’s powers,” Aiden says.

  “Very good, you decided to come to the party,” I say.

  “How did you figure that out?” Aiden says, sounding impressed with another one of his foolish grins on his face.

  “I’m a fucking genius,” I say, thinking of how Adelaide’s words triggered the whole thing.

  “You’re bloody right,” he says with his repulsive American accent.

  I scowl. “Don’t make me hypnotize you until your head explodes.”

  Aiden laughs. “You wouldn’t.”

  “I would,” I say.

  He flippantly waves his hand at me. “Oh, you can put up your tough guy act but you and I both know you’re a big teddy bear.”

  “Who will rip your fucking head off with my mind control,” I say.

  He sighs softly with a bloody grin on his face. “Well, it appears that we make an excellent team. While you were figuring out this reflection business, I determined how to combat this person Sophie, who has the skill of forcing hallucinations on people.”

  “We’re not on a team. I tolerate your practically incompetent work,” I say.

  He smiles slightly. This idiot loves my abuse. It’s almost no fun. “You see, after researching the neurology behind hallucination—”

  “Get to the bloody point,” I say, cutting him off, realizing that hearing him speak too much will give me an aneurysm.

  Aiden’s eager grin falls. Disappointment covers his long face. “Well,” he says, drawing out the word as he pulls something from his lab coat pocket, “Sophie’s gift disturbs the temporal lobe, creating a disruption in the equilibrium of one’s mind. I’ve deduced that what she does is similar to motion sickness. And it’s quite interesting that messing with this zone causes—”

  “What’s the fucking point?” I say.

  Aiden’s voice was growing again with dumb enthusiasm. If this guy looked in the mirror and saw his ridiculous black hair he wouldn’t be so happy.

  “If you wear this device in your ear it should protect this area, shield it from her skill,” he says simply, then he hands me a teal blue device that is shaped like an inner ear. It looks like a hip, next generation hearing device.

  “I call it the ESD, equilibrium stabilizing device. What do you think?” Doctor Dumbass says.

  “I think that if it works, then I won’t kill you at our next meeting. If it doesn’t I’ll haunt you for the rest of your ridiculous life, which regardless I hope is short,” I say.

  “You’re absolutely welcome,” he says, holding up his hand. It’s a gesture to encourage a friendly high-five.

  Aiden, I realize now, is incredibly unhappy and wants me to end him. He’s obviously provoking me. But I think he should be sentenced to live out his sorry days and so I turn and stroll off, leaving him, as Adelaide would say, “hanging.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  San Francisco is one of those overly loved cities. It’s overcrowded, has a sad homeless epidemic, and has a history that makes me disappointed to be a human. And like all things in life, I’m always forced to go to the places I loathe, to do the things that I would rather not. The Moscone Center is a sea of pencil skirts and navy blue suit jackets. Due to my superior logic, Roya left the Institute and made a week of reports in a lake house free of metal. It was the first time in months that her old intuitive power ran through her, giving her access to hundreds of future events. Clear events that weren’t blocked. And one of those events gave me the details that brought me here.

  Reflector is here. Not only is she in attendance at this IT/software conference but she’s brought James and Sophie. They’ll be located close to the main stage during the keynote address. That’s all I know, and it’s way more information than I knew on the last case. And I’m prepared for Sophie. The ESD sits just inside my ear, invisible to most. What I’m not prepared for is an attack from James, the paralyzer, or from Reflector, who I know has the skill I’ve nicknamed her for, but I’m not sure what other skills accompany that.

  I’m careful to hug the perimeter of the busy lobby as I make my way to the main conference room. The acoustics absorb the incessant chatting of the sales executives, computer nerds, and lowly interns as they babble on about something that really deserves less attention than life on other planets. I have yet to deduce why we invest billions in technology, which while I admit makes our lives more convenient, also dumbs us down more with every generation. Yes, I’m a fan of electricity but also I’m a fan of the human experience, which the evolution of technology is destroying. Soon we’ll all be pale bags of bones lying in dark rooms and hooked up to simulations that deliver an artificial experience that we forgot was much better in the physical form. I’m a Dream Traveler. I can go anywhere with my consciousness and I’m not so conceited that I won’t admit that waking life is better even with all its restrictions. The physical realm has smell and touch and a pure essence that no dream can ever truly mimic. Most will never understand this. They’ll turn their bloody lives over to soul-sucking technology.

  Although Roya observed three important details in her vision, we still haven’t discerned what Reflector is after. Our best guess is that she’s going to take out the keynote speaker. Ted Smith. He’s actually a Dream Traveler who works in Congress and has been in the front line of measures to devote more funding to private firms to develop technology for infrastructure nationwide. Automated travel systems. Self-driving cars. Smart homes. He has a solid reputation and is generally well liked but does have a horde of citizens and contemporaries who think his ideas are too revolutionary. I’m actually one of them. However, my job is to intervene in Reflector’s attack, even if it’s against someone I think should be taken down, or at least demoted to a less powerful position.

  The crowd parts in front of me. It’s enough for me to spy the girl. Sophie. Her black hair hangs loose. She’s tiny and tall. A strange combination. And her dark eyes are unmistakably on me. At this distance her hallucinatory abilities won’t work. That’s why I do exactly what she won’t expect. I approach her. Each step I notice her masked confusion break out from behind her attempts to hide it. I should be running, she’s probably thinking. Avoiding her if I don’t want to end up on the dirty carpet below me, probably swallowing my tongue from the hallucination-inducing seizure she causes me. And with each step I accept this potential fate. Do I want to die? Of course not. And in such a gross way? Not at all. But what frightens me more is her attack not killing me, just zapping a chunk of my brain cells, thereby forcing me to live like a halfwit like everyone else on this bloody Earth. And I’d know. Know I was daft. That I was operating and not like I used to, but I’d be powerless to fix myself. I’d probably off myself after three days. I have high expectations for myself and a low tolerance for losers. I’d rather be a quitter than a moron.

  When ten feet separates me from Sophie I know that the ESD is successful. Her powers aren’t working and it’s writing fear all over her face. Reflector has Sophie’s little sister. That’s what’s making this girl use her powers for evil. I don’t sense she’s inherently bad. Most people aren’t really. They are irrational with low self-control, reactionary, or motivated by something bigger than their moral and logical side. This girl has a job to do and I suspect her failing right now will prove disastrous for her sibling. And although we’d like to save everyone, we lose some taking out the bad guy, or bad woman in this case.

  When I’ve closed the space between Sophie and me so that I’m speaking distance away, the girl’s eyes dart behind her. I then notice a figure standing beside a curtained wall. Then Sophie whips around and sprints past me, running from her failure and the woman who no doubt will deliver her punishment after this, but not if I’m successful.

  Out in plain sight, like an antelope unafraid of a hunter, Reflector stands. She’s just outside the auditorium, an all too proud look on her carved face. Her hair reminds me of Marilyn Mo
nroe’s. It’s classy with its rounded edges style that has since died out of fashion. And she sticks out like a zebra in a pack of horses in her leopard print dress, which has too many distracting elements about it. This woman isn’t striking like a goddess, but rather like a demon she has an almost luring aspect to her. And the sinister expression on her red lips seems to say “come check me for fangs, I’ll open up and we’ll see if I bite.” I approach her.

  She hooks her hand on to her hip as I near, her demeanor oozing with confidence. I grind my teeth. I fucking invented that look on her face. If she knew what I was about to do to her she’d run as fast as that ass-hugging dress would allow. Instead, the vixen extends a petite hand to me, her nails the color of her lips. I regard it with a disdainful look. Reflector obviously knows many details about me and the Institute since she had the insight to block Roya’s clairvoyance. However, maybe she doesn’t know I have telepathy linked to touch. And although she’s a deadly villain who I should probably stay away from, I’ve never missed the opportunity to get in an enemy’s head.

  A chill from her hand almost makes me yank mine away. It feels like it’s been sitting on a block of ice. And then the familiar surge of someone’s thoughts pours into my head. However, it’s not just a thought, but rather a message.

  I’ve waited a long time to meet you, Ren, she says in my head, a sadistic smile on her face.

  I pull my hand away. My first instinct is to bore straight into her head and take control. Disarm her and keep her held here until the Lucidite agents stationed outside can swoop in. I made the bloody gits stay outside so they didn’t screw up my job. But before I have a chance to use my powers on her, the demon opens her mouth and says, “No using mind control on me.”