by Anna Carven
She needed space.
She needed it so badly.
“At least take this.” Abbey unwrapped a dark shawl from her shoulders and handed it to Noa. “It’s not that hot yet, but the sun will get brutal later on. Tarak hates it.” She looked Noa up and down, the concern never fading from her tawny eyes. “With your skin, you’ll fry like a Kordolian out there.”
Noa gingerly took the garment, murmuring her thanks as she unconsciously ran her fingers over the long scar running down the side of her head. Then, with nowhere to go but the middle of nowhere, she fled for the second time that day, trying to escape the multitude of voices that threatened to tear her sanity apart.
Chapter Six
This time, the wall of silence hit her like a tidal wave. It was like she’d stepped across some invisible threshold where chaos wasn’t allowed to cross.
She hadn’t imagined it last time. There really was a quiet spot here, a precious space that was insulated from all the psychic noise.
As cold, beautiful stillness surrounded her, Noa breathed a sigh of relief and closed her eyes, savoring the absence of intrusive, unwanted thoughts. Perhaps it was just her imagination, but the stillness really did seem to have a character. It was icy and controlled, and she loved it.
Why here of all places? She wrapped Abbey’s shawl around her head and shoulders, studying the flat grey rocks rising out of the red sand. She ran her fingers over the surface of the large boulder she was perched on, and for a moment she imagined the rock was a sentient thing, as unshakeable and ancient as the Earth itself, surrounding her with its stillness. She could almost feel it.
Ridiculous. She’d suspected for some months that she was actually insane. This just gave weight to her theory.
Sentient rocks? Rocks with feelings? You’re nuts, Noali.
But the silence here really was beautiful. She felt as if she’d dived into a cold, clear pool on a hot summer’s day. Noa closed her eyes, allowing her consciousness to spread out before her.
For the first time in months, she felt unafraid and hopeful. She was charting unknown territory here. Nobody, not even Zyara, had known how to help her control her newfound abilities, which were more of a curse than a gift.
She would just have to figure things out on her own, as she always did.
Noa exhaled, willing her turbulent thoughts to a standstill. She became aware of the gentle breeze, hanging somewhere in-between chilly and balmy, and the rhythm of her own breathing. She felt the steady thud of her heart. It was surprisingly even. Her head tingled, a faint ache radiating from the long scar that ran across her scalp.
She pushed away her turmoil and confusion and went in search of her music.
Before now, she’d been afraid to try. Ever since the surgery, she’d thought the music, her lifeblood, had been lost to her. Unable to replicate even a bar of it in her head, she’d thought she’d lost something so integral to her identity that she’d never recover.
All she’d been able to do was listen to the music stored in her audio-buds, the silver devices a small mercy granted to her by the Corporation.
But now, energized by the silence, she reached deep within herself and searched for those lost memories. Her fingers moved as she grasped at lost notes and half-formed arpeggios. She tried for something simple to begin with, something that would suit her mood and calm her down.
A little bit of the Raindrop Prelude might do the trick.
She tried to imagine those first tentative notes in her mind, but they wouldn’t come, so she delved deeper, ignoring the sun, ignoring the cool breath of the dry desert breeze on her cheeks. She saw darkness in her mind and she dove right into it, seduced by its iciness, entranced by the infinite night, drawn by the vastness of the Universe.
She met resistance. It felt like trying to swim through tangled pond-weeds. Slowly, methodically, she tore the barriers away, chasing the elusive trail of forgotten song.
And then, she hit a wall.
Human. The wall was terrifying and immovable, and it was undeniably male. She’d felt this presence before. What do you want?
He was dark, seductive, and overpowering, and he was in her head!
Fear overtook her. Who the hell are you? She froze, unable to see him, yet overwhelmed by the feel of him. Somehow, they were speaking to one another, mind to mind.
Telepathically.
A glimmer of dark amusement radiated from him, sharp and acerbic. Who am I? He left the question hanging, infuriating Noa a little bit as the silence extended between them, making her breath catch.
Because she really, really wanted to know who he was.
And how is it, she continued, unable to keep her curiosity at bay despite her fear, that you can speak inside my head?
Human, how is it that you’ve lived your entire life with your ka’qui channels open, and yet you don’t understand mindspeech?
“I have not lived my entire life-” she blurted, before catching herself. This stranger, this entity, this thing was infuriating her with his supercilious tone.
With that attitude, he had to be Kordolian. She shuddered, recalling those imperious warriors with their luminous silver skin and eyes of cold fire. Their pointed ears and aristocratic features made them seem aloof and untouchable; they were obsidian clad warlords who could determine the fate of entire worlds with a single word.
With their advanced technology and superior physiology, they could bring Humankind to its knees.
And yet they hadn’t, at least not yet.
How was she supposed to hold a normal conversation with one of these strange beings, especially when he was inside her head?
Could he read all her thoughts? Until now, she’d thought it was the other way around. Usually, the thoughts of others flooded her mind, unbidden and unwanted.
She shuddered as a wave of strange energy swept over her, making the fine hairs on her arms and the back of her neck stand up. Gooseflesh rippled across her pale skin and she rubbed her bare lower arms, trying to pinpoint the source of the energy. It was as if someone was scrutinizing her with their sixth sense, studying her, sensing her, caressing her.
The sensation wasn’t an unpleasant one, it was just unexpected, and strangely intimate.
I haven’t lived my entire life with this ka-thing, or whatever you call it. She tried to shake off the feeling that he was combing through her consciousness and teasing out her innermost secrets. Someone made me like this. I never asked for it.
Ah. That makes sense. Your level of control is worse than a child’s. You need to learn how to harness it, otherwise you’ll go mad.
His energy dissipated like a retreating fog, and some small part of her yearned to have it back, because being surrounded by him had somehow felt reassuring. His control over this ka-thing was masterful, and she wanted to wrap herself in his icy embrace.
Noa shook her head, surprised at the direction of her thoughts. She didn’t even know for sure whether he really existed or whether he was just some figment of her fracturing imagination.
Maybe he was just a voice in her head, a hallucination. The lines between fantasy and reality had never been so blurred.
Can you help me learn to control it? she asked tentatively, hoping against hope that he was a benevolent presence rather than a malicious one.
Why should I help you, Human?
Good question. Because he was kind and generous, perhaps? Ha. Judging from his dismissive psychic tone, that wasn’t likely. He was a Kordolian. There was no shared thread of Humanity between them. Why should he help her, indeed?
Even she couldn’t think of a compelling reason.
Maybe there’s something I could do for you in return, she offered, aware of how lame that sounded.
Frosty silence greeted her in response, leaving Noa to wonder if she’d just made up an entire conversation inside her head. She tried to form a mental picture of her disdainful friend, imagining him as a coldly beautiful Kordolian, distant and unreachable.
; From the way he spoke, he had to be someone of importance in their social hierarchy. A high-ranking military officer perhaps, or even nobility. She tried to visualize his face but it eluded her.
Something pushed at the edges of her mind, a dark, unrelenting pressure that was undeniably his. Perhaps you can be of use to me after all, Human.
Noa gasped as the sheer force of his mental presence became painful. She didn’t understand what was happening. The pressure became heavier, suffocating her. It was as if someone had placed a vise around her head and was squeezing it hard.
Let me in, he demanded. You are already weak; why fight it?
What do you want? she cried, her eyes snapping wide open. This malevolent demon was trying to force his way in; he was trying to possess her.
You, he answered simply, pressing even harder. Yield, Human.
Sweet Jupiter; he was trying to dominate her. He was trying to bend her to his will. Why?
Because I need you to help me escape. He began to pry apart her almost nonexistent defenses, threading the dark tendrils of his will into her mind. She was totally vulnerable and he knew it. Ruthlessly, he tried to exploit her weakness.
Panic rose up in Noa’s chest as his power tightened around her. Give up, Human. It is futile to resist me.
A small part of her wanted to do exactly that. The way he’d entered her mind was so different to anything she’d experienced since she’d been given this cursed talent.
Fury and control. That’s what he was. A small part of her wanted to give herself up to him. It would be so much easier to surrender than have to deal with the constant torment of a thousand unwanted thoughts, day in, day out.
Unlike her, his control over this power was absolute, and he was using it to invade her consciousness in the most brutal of ways. Slowly, against her will, she rose to her feet. The movement was his doing. He was controlling her body like a puppet, and she was helpless against him.
He was controlling her movements!
She’d been possessed by a monster.
What are you doing to me? Panic tried to burst out of her chest, but it had nowhere to go, so it welled up inside her, becoming stronger and stronger as he took complete control of her will.
He was crushing her from outside. Fear and panic were building within. Noa was stuck in the middle, and she had nowhere to go.
She took a step forward, against her will.
No!
She tried to regain control, but she didn’t know how. The panic within her turned into wild energy, fueled by her terror.
Stop fighting me, Human.
A half-choked cry erupted from her throat as she somehow found a shred of resistance. She grabbed onto it with all her might and pushed.
He pushed back. That’s enough. Do not resist me.
Acting on instinct, Noa gathered all of her anger and added fuel to the fire, drawing on her memories of the abuse she’d suffered at the hands of SynCorp. She remembered the pain, the isolation, the cruel insults, and the humiliating punishments they’d meted out when she’d failed to carry out the tasks they’d set for her. Before now, she’d been shattered, lonely, and confused.
But now, she was just angry.
Fuck you, alien. I will not be pushed around!
So she pushed back, dropping to her knees. The pressure in her head grew until her vision swam, the obsidian structures in the distance turning into an amorphous black blur as she struggled to regain control. She didn’t know what she was doing anymore. All she knew was that she was sick and tired of people thinking they could stick their fingers, psychic or otherwise, inside her weary mind. She was sick and tired of people doing whatever they liked to her.
Her anger was the spark, and everything else was the dry kindling.
Her vision was black now; she couldn’t see the desert anymore, but she felt his presence all around her, insidious and demanding, trying to break through.
Noa cried out, a raw, hoarse sound that ripped through the dry desert air. Out here, nobody could hear her. The air was thick with tension, and a gust of wind came out of nowhere, whipping up the red dust. It peppered her bare skin, stinging her cheeks.
And all the while he was there pushing against her, and sweet Jupiter, he was strong.
Become mine, Human.
Fuck off.
She grabbed hold of her anger, because it was the only thing she had left, and pushed back, harder and harder, until her head was filled with excruciating pain.
I will not be controlled!
There was a giant crack, and then the pain was gone.
The force of it threw her flat on her ass. Her vision had partly returned, but there was dust everywhere, clouding the air. She coughed and wiped at her nose. Her hand came away stained with blood.
What the hell?
Noa blinked as her vision gradually cleared. Her ass ached, the result of having been forcefully thrown back onto a flat boulder. She coughed, her throat raw, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps.
She was free. She didn’t understand what the hell she’d just done, but the pressure was gone. He was out of her head.
Noa groaned, a slight fog clouding her thoughts. It felt like one vicious hangover. A big psychic hangover.
She’d come back here to find some peace and quiet. Instead, she’d ended up fighting an existential battle with a mysterious demon over possession of her will.
“Seems like I just can’t escape,” she said weakly to no-one in particular. She just needed to hear the sound of her own voice, to remind herself that she was still connected to reality.
As the dust began to clear, she saw dark figures in the distance. They were moving swiftly in her direction, their approach eerily silent. As they neared, she counted four of them. They were Kordolian, no doubt about it. Decked from head-to-toe in their sculpted obsidian battle-armor, they reminded her of dark, vengeful spirits.
And they were coming for her.
Oh, crap. What’s happening now?
She glanced around frantically, but there was nowhere to go. They were closing fast.
Weapons bristled from hidden sheaths and holsters, but perhaps sensing she wasn’t a great threat to them, they didn’t bother to draw their blades or plasma guns as they approached.
Noa’s heart hammered in her chest, her mouth turning dry as fear swept through her. Had her malevolent opponent somehow alerted them to her presence? Had he sent them to capture her?
Before she could react, the four warriors had surrounded her. At first they said nothing, staring down at her through their dark, impenetrable visors. The four otherworldly beings scrutinized her amidst the silence and dust, their faces hidden behind their helms.
Talk about intimidating.
Noah’s breath caught and she froze, not daring to move a muscle. These ebony clad warriors had saved her from SynCorp, but she still didn’t know if they were friend or foe.
“What do you want?” she said at last, finding her voice.
One of the Kordolians inclined his head. In a grimly humorous tone, he said something to his brothers-in-arms in his melodic native tongue before turning to her. Noa gaped as his helm disappeared, melting away before her eyes to reveal a hard face. Only a pair of dark lenses remained, concealing his eyes. Noa recalled something about Kordolian eyes being sensitive to light. He regarded her with a flat, hidden stare, raising a pale eyebrow. “You did that?” He spoke perfect Universal.
“Did what? If you’re referring to kicking that monster out of my head, then yeah, that was me. If you’re going to punish me for it, then get it over with.” Having nothing left to lose emboldened her. She glared at the Kordolian, daring him to do something.
“Punish?” The alien shook his head slightly. “What are you talking about, Human?”
“I thought you people might be unhappy that I snapped your man’s proverbial psychic fingers, but he shouldn’t have gone and stuck them in my head like that. That was terrifying.”
“Psychic?” The Kor
dolian groaned, making a funny little sign with his fingers. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those types.”
“Those types?” It was Noa’s turn to raise an eyebrow. At least they hadn’t knocked her out and taken her away yet. They could have easily done so. And to her relief, their thoughts weren’t spilling over into her head. Her precious silence remained.
It must be this place, she concluded. There was something about being out here that made it possible for her to have a normal conversation without constantly being bombarded with mental junk.
Out here, silence reigned.
The warrior said something to his companions in Kordolian. They’d removed the armor concealing their faces and now they were all directing unreadable looks towards her. Noa shifted uncomfortably, unused to being the center of such scrutiny.
The guy who seemed to be doing all the talking studied her carefully. “You have that vibe about you. You’re one of the touched ones, aren’t you?”
Noa wasn’t sure whether she was imagining things, but he almost seemed… wary of her.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Noa replied, confused.
Abruptly, the warrior squatted down on his haunches beside her, his brow furrowing. She tried to ignore the long sword sheathed at his back and the small throwing knives strapped to his torso. She stiffened, suddenly conscious of how small she felt amongst these imposing Kordolians.
“Touched, as in Goddess-touched,” he explained, as if this was basic knowledge. “You can do the freaky mindspeech. You have the sixth sense. I didn’t know Humans also had the ability.”
“Neither did I,” Noa said carefully. The SynCorp crazies hadn’t known much about it either, even though they were the ones who had made her like this. After messing with her head so much, they’d seemed surprised when their experiments had actually worked. They hadn’t known what to do with her after that.
Through the clearing dust, the warrior pointed at one of the black structures in the distance, the building nearest to her small rocky perch. It was a long, flat building with gently sloping walls and no apparent windows, exits, or entrances. “Do you know who we’re keeping in there?”