Persist (Discipline Book 3)

by P. S. Power

  As strange as it seemed, he knew that one already. Ben had come in willing to commit himself fully, and even die if he had to, in order to gain the skills he could there. Glenda herself had taken him aside for a chat about that in the very first minutes he’d been there. Then locked him in a sensory isolation room with no food, light or sound for forty-two days.

  The plan was to let him out when he begged for it, but he never had, going all in on what he was doing, even if it sucked. So far he’d tried to bring that idea to everything he did, constantly. The results were a bit hit or miss, but some things, like psychic work, were in the hit portion of events.

  The trick now would be to keep showing up each day. To persist, and hold to the new discipline that his life needed all the time. Being lazy was easier, and more fun, but didn’t get the government taken down. Not even a little bit.

  “Yeah. We have all of that, for each location. Though…” He took a bite, trying not to rush. Enjoying what he was allowed to eat wasn’t a crime, as far as he knew. The food was all really good, so savoring it made sense to him. It was a new experience for him really. He used to eat a lot, but had barely noticed it. Now he actually liked doing it more, but also had some control over what, and when, he ate.

  Glenda looked at him, a flare of surprise coming to her, about them having been that thorough. Not that she didn’t believe him. That part was interesting to see. She didn’t doubt that Ben was good at what he did, but hadn’t expected them to be able to collect everything like they had. The other psychics, and she’d worked with about a dozen over the decades, all needed more time than that to find anything of value. They also tended to get sidetracked, after a few hours of work. That Ben didn’t, so far, was special.

  “What?” She waited for the other shoe to drop, her own powers kicking in a bit. She wasn’t any more able to see the future than a normal person, but most actually got hunches and things like that. They just didn’t know how to separate that sense of things from a raw guess or imagined piece of information. So it was more often than not useless to them. She focused on him however, and didn’t eat for a bit.

  “Every time we pass our information along, the battle plans shift. It kind of means that we’re giving the data to the bad guys. Probably because they’re government, or at least working with them. It could be spies, or a breached system or something, I guess, but…” Ben ate more, the tangy sauce making his mouth water as he took a delicate bite. It probably made him seem a little fussy, but honestly, he didn’t care at the moment. He just didn’t want to wear half his meal. The gray outfits they all wore showed stains, and he had to wash the things himself. To that end he made sure to wipe his face with a napkin, which got Mags to do the same about ten seconds later.

  It was linked, which he could see as a faint hint of a glow in the air and her own movement. There was meaning in it, of course. That they were close enough for her to take subconscious cues from him.

  Glenda made a face, her mind locking down really well after that.

  “We noticed that as well. We’re trying to find out which line going out has that happening. That isn’t your job. Really, if you have all of that, other than checking some details out, and doing support for the actual battles, you should be finished for now. Not that you’ll get a real break. The first attack is in three hours, unless we stop it somehow. That… Isn’t likely. We have everyone scattered too much for that. Thankfully we have some backup. Not enough, but the FBI has thrown in with us, using something approaching real resources. Most of the other groups are viewing your information as suspect, even if you’ve been right so far about everything else.”

  Ben hadn’t been told about most of that, or had time to pick it up, but it made sense, more or less. Everyone knew that psychic stuff was a scam. That had been mentioned in school even, several times. The real answer was that it had been scientifically proven to exist for nearly a hundred years or more, but that most schools didn’t teach that part. The effects were small in regular people, and it was easier for most to take in that it didn’t exist than to understand that they, themselves had such abilities. They just didn’t amount to much.

  It had taken Ben by surprise at first and still did now, when he was right about things. Even after finding out that he’d been a pretty powerful natural psychic his whole life. That hadn’t done a lot for him, really. Looking back, he couldn’t see even one thing where it had helped him in any way. Not until the mods that the Cymeds, or more accurately their parent corporation, had given him.

  Then the real world had slammed into him really hard, that way. There was no doubting it now. Unless he was insane on a level that was even worse than he thought. In that case he was screwed.

  They ate for a bit, and Glenda didn’t speak again until most of her food was finished. Ben was behind her that way, but Mags had managed a lot toward catching up. She was thin herself, but was putting on more muscle now, since she didn’t have to sneak food at night, in order to avoid everyone.

  Glenda was huge compared to most of them, as far as muscle went. Tall enough for a woman, but she could have probably put male bodybuilders to shame without trying, as far as size and definition went. That meant she looked a lot like a man though. Even her face kind of did. She wasn’t, and never had been, but it wasn’t that important to him, how she looked. A thing to note, but not worry over. When she’d been changed they’d kind of thought that fighting, hand to hand, would be what was needed. It was a fantasy version of things however. Reality was different than that.

  Revolutions weren’t won, anymore. Change had to come from within, and over time. It wasn’t as interesting as doing it all at once, but there was no way to win, going head to head with people that really held most of the cards.

  That thought didn’t leave him feeling great, since he wanted, on a deep level, to grab the federal government and shove their head in a wastebasket. Except that it wasn’t a single person and anyone he did that to would probably be innocent of most wrongdoing. The system was broken, but it was so big that nothing could really fix it, any longer. Worse, as far as he could see, and it was a feeling more than anything, it wasn’t even going to drop under its own weight, any time soon.

  Even the terrorist attacks just seemed to be bringing people together and was making the governments of the world stronger, and harder to fight against. They saw the threat and moved to protect themselves.

  Which didn’t serve his own long term plans that well. On the good side he’d probably live a nice long time, if the changes didn’t kill him. Which he was nearly certain they wouldn’t. Mentally Ben wasn’t going to be that useful it seemed, but he might be around for centuries or longer, unless he killed himself at some point.

  That cheery thought actually left him feeling better for some reason. He could, if he had to, just take his own life. That way, he wouldn’t be living forever, shifting from one thing to the next, without end, never knowing when he was near the real world or not. So far it had been working for him, but if it ever didn’t, there was a way out.

  It might be cowardly of him, but he really didn’t care. He’d never been delusional enough to think of himself as so brave that he wouldn’t be smart about things.

  His mentor leaned in a bit, which she did when she wanted to indicate she was actually paying attention to the person she was talking to, and tried to smile. It was strained and hard for her to pull off it seemed.

  “So, plans until then?” She meant the coming attack. There wasn’t a lot of time, but he got the idea. There was so much coming that he couldn’t live his life for each battle. Not if he was going to make it through them all.

  “I was thinking of getting a run in. A short one, given everything. Then I’ll try to find everyone and work out what needs to be done.” An idea hit him then, and he nodded. It wouldn’t fix everything, but it might interfere with what the bad guys had planned. Not a lot, but his ability to stop them directly from a distance was small.

  What he could do was fi
nd the people that were going to be there, and suggest that they not show up to the scene of the coming attack. It might not work, but it wasn’t even a thing that anyone had mentioned. Announcing it all publicly beforehand obviously wasn’t going to work very well, since it would simply make the terrorists attack a different location, taking their only real advantage, foreknowledge, off the table.

  Ben however, could talk to people at a distance. Even those with no real ability of their own. He could also take them over for brief periods of time and make them do things. It was hard to do, and not that efficient most of the time, but if it came to that, he could get it done.

  Glenda smiled at him, and nodded.

  “That’s a good idea. You don’t get out of training just because of an emergency. We can’t afford to leave you unskilled for too long. Carlos was talking to me about that the other day. He figures that they pretty much have to attack us directly eventually. If you aren’t a prime target, then…” She didn’t finish the words, just taking her tray to the side, for cleaning and leaving the room.

  A wave of emotions, most of them conflicted, floating behind her. The fear and worry were kind of expected. What Ben hadn’t figured on was the pride that was mixed in with it. For the others that were about to fight, sure, but also for him.

  Even if no one else really understood how hard it would all be on him, in the end.

  Chapter two

  The fight itself, the first of many, was brutal, cold and almost free of collateral damage. It happened in Houston, Texas. In the busy downtown area, which was supposed to cause thousands of people to die, horribly murdered by the insect Swarm and the armored fighters. That didn’t happen, since instead of finding all those nightclub going people there to have at with the full might of the terrorists, there was no one there that was going to be easily slaughtered, and about a hundred people in combat armor instead.

  Plus the Cymed team, which was twenty people strong.

  They fought, even as Ben kind of tried to get them to move back. When they went up against the mech suited people they won, each time, but they started to lose people anyway. To the Swarm. The silver insects weren’t huge, being about as long as his hand from head to stinger. Their clear wings were easy to break and damage as well, so they could be taken from the air, it you were fast and clever. The problem was in their numbers, and the fact that they wouldn’t stop.

  No matter how many of them died. They only had to get lucky once to kill, as well. The armored troops were protected, but not the Cymeds, who all wore regular street clothes for the event. They weren’t government agents, and wearing anything in public that could thwart law enforcement weapons was illegal. So was using firearms, which it seemed like they were doing anyway. That wasn’t the truth however. They were all armed with air powered things that made loud booms, and were incredibly effective, but were technically legal. New things that the law hadn’t had a chance to take away from people.

  The thing was an old problem however. They’d been trained to fight and as their people fell around them, they shifted back on their earliest lessons. That meant they tried to close with the brown armored terrorists, ignoring the real threat. The bugs of death that didn’t care about anything except killing.

  It would have been a slaughter, except that Ben couldn’t take that, so raised his right hand, and slammed the full might of his telekinesis into the approaching wave of death from above. The first time slowed them, but didn’t do much else. Almost all of the remaining Cymed team was busily engaging the mech armored troops, and the police on the scene, their entire local M-CERT team didn’t know to take advantage of the lack of attack when they had it.

  Ben burned, inside. It hurt this time, even more than the first time he’d done it had. On that occasion he’d had a seizure, and wet himself. This time that wouldn’t be happening. He’d made sure to hit the bathroom first. With a bit of focus he also got his tongue out of the way as the teeth in his mouth ground together against his will.

  Then, knowing it was foolish, and possibly killing him, he tried again. This time the blue and black armored people were able to make use of the stalling in the air, and took out a lot of the Swarm. Shooting them mainly, since the insects were trying to get the people that were fighting against the other mech suits. That the nearly naked people were winning wasn’t lost on the police either. More than one of them considered, very seriously, putting a round through the back of an unprotected head on seeing that. It wasn’t supposed to be possible, and if they could go toe to toe with armored people and win, that meant it could be done to them as well.

  No one was that stupid, thankfully.

  As he started to fade, feeling like his skin was sitting on hot coals, Ben managed to try and send the flying creatures which remained into the pavement. Hard. If it was enough, he couldn’t tell, being unconscious like he was.

  This time when he came to, he was just lying on the floor, with Dave taking his picture. Vid, Ben knew. For the record.

  “I swear,” His voice croaked, as he sat up, slowly. “If you caught me peeing my pants again, I’m…”

  Looking down he saw he was dry. There was slobber all over his face, but Ben decided that was an improvement. There was still an incredible burning in his head, and he felt like he was going to hurl in a dramatic fashion, if he moved too much. Behind him, on the main rec center screen, a high end holo projection unit that most couldn’t have afforded for their own home, was the remaining battle. It wasn’t over yet, though it was clear that most of the Swarm was out of play. Half of them were on the ground, trying to crawl over to where the Cymeds were still fighting.

  “Run you idiots. The job was to save the people, not fight.” It made sense to him, but Dave shook his head. Not that Ben could see him doing it, but the feeling was there. Solidly.

  “No shit. They won’t though. They’re all too freaking brave for their own good. We… Really, they should get an order to pull back. Ali is doing communications with them, right?”

  Ben nodded, and then regretted doing that. It didn’t hurt his head more, but his stomach tried to escape without any polite warning heaves first, making a rather large mess. Bethany glared, but only at the floor. Her job was to run the place they were in, which meant she was responsible for cleaning it too, Ben bet.

  Waving, and feeling embarrassed, Ben used the back of his hand to try and clean his face as soon as he was done. The sour taste in his mouth and burning in his nose definitely didn’t make his day better.

  “Right. Call it Dave. Tell Ali that… I don’t know, lie and say that I had a premonition that it was the best plan?”

  The other man smiled, and spoke into Bethany’s desk computer, his hand touching something that floated in the air. An image of a solid object.

  “Got that Ali? We’re pulling it, due to psychic bullshitery.” The man didn’t seem to think it was going to work, but there was a low chuckle that came back.

  “Understood. I’ll call it now.”

  It didn’t get instant action from the people that floated in the air in front of them, fighting, but in ten seconds or so, when they could, they broke to the left and retreated to a safe distance. Sixteen of the twenty did. The other four were dead. As a group the Cymeds only had about a hundred to two hundred trained people, so that was a lot. It made Ben want to growl in anger, and kick some butts for not getting out as soon as they could have.

  Only the new bout of losing his dinner prevented him from saying anything about it all.

  It took nearly ten minutes for him to stand up, and he still felt weak and crappy, but got to the back and found the mop and bucket. Using an old dustpan as a scoop, and a piece of composite packaging material he scraped it up and tossed it out back, under a bush. Then the floor was washed, over and over, until the smell was mainly gone. A lot of the people that used the place had better than average noses, so that part was important.

  Bethany and Dave were both actually busy, since their jobs got more intense after the
main action, unlike his. They worked with minimal talking, though Ben figured that he could leave about then. The others weren’t in, back at their shared house, but Ben couldn’t keep his eyes open without feeling ill. He was still picking up everyone around him, but was going to crash anyway. To that end, even though it wasn’t his normal habit, he left his bedroom door wide open. That way the others could come and fondle him in his sleep, setting up the null field for them all.

  In the meantime, he could doze off.

  Except that it wasn’t happening. Instead he moved from person to person, living their reactions to the attacks with them. Even though almost no civilians had died, a few had and that freaked out most of the planet. They could tell how close it had really been. Some of them could. A lot actually just felt like it might have been a game they were hearing about, which was the nicer reaction, if not exactly the sanest one.

  That kept up until a hand touched his arm. He didn’t know how much later it was, but even in the dark he could make out that Lissa was there. Her silver hair kind of glowed in the dim light from the front room. There was no Clark or Mags yet however.

  The woman was holding his arm in her right hand, the whole thing being drawn mentally for him in close to full color, even though, he realized, his eyes were shut. That meant it wasn’t real, strictly speaking. Not imagination either, he didn’t think. A made up thing meant to represent the room as he’d last seen it and how Lissa would look as well.

  “Hey.” He didn’t bother with more, still feeling horrible. His TK was a pretty weak skill still for him, and it wasn’t meant to really operate at those distances. In fact, he’d been told that it couldn’t. That things could be influenced as far as probabilities and a few other things that far away, but not moved directly. It wasn’t, he didn’t think, that Clark couldn’t have done the same thing, but rather that the other man was averse to ridiculous amounts of pain. Which Ben decided was the better way to be.