by KT Belt
He motioned for Carmen to extend her hand. She did so hesitantly. When he placed the weapon on her open palm, she would have dropped it if but for telekinesis. It was ridiculously heavy. At its widest point, its diameter had to be no bigger than her forearm, but she wouldn’t be surprised if it outweighed her significantly. Physically, she didn’t have the strength to hold it. Telekinetically, however, it was no great task. She levitated it above her palm and spun it slowly, just to see what it was like. As she did, she thought about her physics classes. The Taper was heavy, but there was no real limit to how fast a Clairvoyant would be able to wield it. She considered those two aspects and then cringed when she thought about the potential damage from a full-speed hit. She handed it back to Janus, who telekinetically collapsed it back to its original size and put it away.
“As I said, the Taper is the preferred weapon of the telekinetic, if they wish to use a weapon.” He gave a passing glance to the swords. “But your personality profile said you’d prefer a long-sword…. I guess it’s no surprise you found your way here.”
Carmen looked at the swords as well for a brief moment before turning back to her handler. Janus didn’t look at her. Instead, he slowly scanned the room.
“When we were being trained by the sortens, they didn’t know what to make of us,” he began. “They didn’t exactly know what they were dealing with, much like we still don’t. They knew nothing of human nature. They just knew that if they were especially brutal to terrans, a small number of them would manifest a curious control and understanding of energy. Understandably, their methods were harsh—unnecessarily so. I won’t bore you with stories, but suffice it to say the first of us didn’t last long. They were either driven insane or suicidal by the training, or their bodies simply failed.”
He looked at Carmen in that moment and she felt uncomfortable under his gaze. There were few times when she was ever comfortable around him. It was hard for her to think that he had gone through the same thing she had—and that it had been worse. She’d never really thought about it before; she just assumed Janus had popped out of an egg, or something, exactly the way he was now. It was a bit much for her to think that her handler had been created, so to speak. At some point in time, he could have been crying in a cell of a room, much like she did.
“They never called us Clairvoyants either. We were referred to as ‘Energy Projectionists’ or as ‘Special Terrans.’ ‘Clairvoyant’ was a term we coined for ourselves. At times, I guess it is a true descriptor. I think it helped us to believe we knew more than our masters—that we had some power over them, even if we never did. Few of us knew our real names. Much like you, we were separated from our families at a young age, and much like you, our masters gave us numbers, not names. Out of necessity, we had to give each other names for the brief times we were allowed to socialize. It is difficult to describe a person or even a thing with just a number.”
He looked around the room again. Carmen looked too, but she wondered what she was supposed to be watching for.
“There are thousands of weapons in this room,” Janus said. “They are shaped by purpose and function, and that shape—that reason they were forged in their unique manner—gives them their history. They cannot escape the roles they were literally cast in. It defines them. Each and every one has a name, save one.” He looked at Carmen as he spoke. “You hide from me, 111724. At least, I thought you were hiding from me. You are one of the most powerful Clairvoyants to have ever lived, yet you barely use that power. Or, at least, I thought that was the case. You are difficult because you are exactly what you appear to be. I assure you that is rare. You know the limits and give exactly that and no more, not because the limits are yours but because no more is required. I don’t know if you do this consciously, or if it’s an intrinsic part of your character, but in either case, you know the Edge, and that can do as a name.”
7
Clairvoyant at Last
“She’s like a machine.”
That truth was so obvious that no one bothered to nod in agreement. Edge, as 111724 was now called, took to her new toy well. Like all Clairvoyants, she needed no formal training; the knowledge to kill just came naturally. It made no difference if was death by fist or the long-sword she was now wielding, and no one knew how or why that was. The end results, however, were painfully obvious for all to see.
Carmen never thought about any of that. She winced as another Construct fell before her. Janus had been true to his word. After that horrible day, each and every one of her challengers had a full psyche, and she felt each one cry out just before she ended them. The feeling was unpleasant enough to buckle her legs when it caught her off guard. At minimum, her fingers would go numb. She shuddered to think of what a real person’s death would feel like.
The sword did make a Construct’s passing quicker, though, and it did more damage than her fists could ever hope to. The weapon was odd in a way. It wasn’t a part of her, and there were distinct times that it was annoying to have to work around its natural limitations, yet she could feel her energy working through it. There was always a small grin on her face as she swung the sword, momentum gathering on the tip of the blade. The simple physics of her instrument magnified her power almost like magic. Sure, the sensation of the Construct’s death shortly thereafter couldn’t be described so lovingly, but everything before that was gravy.
Her fingers still tingled as technicians entered the room to remove the bodies of her victims. She didn’t watch the process. She didn’t even think about it, or much of anything else. Really the only thing on her mind was how many Constructs it would be today before they’d let her leave. These trials had long become a ridiculous routine to Carmen. All she was doing was going through the motions.
When she heard a technician vomit, she sighed. This cleaning would take longer than usual. Her fingers impatiently tapped the wall, now that she was able to fully feel them again. How the technicians were routinely unable to stomach the gore was beyond her. She saw it and was sometimes literally covered by it every day, and she was perfectly fine. Carmen couldn’t help rolling her eyes when her thoughts went to how Mikayla would sometimes shy away after sniffing her. She didn’t know what the problem was; she cleaned up before going back to her room, for all the good it did.
Her eyes turned to her handler, who never said or did anything, as usual. He just watched her work. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d even given her any pointers about her performance. He told her to start and he told her to stop; there was nothing in between. It was hard to guess why that was. She didn’t think she was perfect, and Janus had said as much more than once. Nevertheless, the criticism had dropped sharply since he named her.
Edge. She couldn’t say she hated the name. She liked her real name better, of course, even if she hadn’t heard anyone say it in years. All the same, if it came between being called Edge and 111724, she’d rather not be a number. The reason was hard to give words to.
The technicians finished clearing the room, and her next opponent appeared. She sighed again. He was wearing hard armor and was also armed with a knife. Janus had said it was only proper for a Clairvoyant to use a weapon if their opposition was also armed and to fight barehanded otherwise. It was something about respect and blah, blah, blah, nonsense factor times three. She truly didn’t care about the reason. But armor, particularly hard armor, she couldn’t stand. Her sword was quite useless against it, and aiming for the ever so small gaps was such a pain.
Her raised hand sent of beam of heat straight through him without a second thought. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Janus nod, which didn’t mean much coming from him. Tea leaves were less cryptic. Approving or disapproving, it was always so hard to tell. Her analysis would have to wait, though, as two more Constructs were on her, also in hard armor.
She had less than a second, which was more than enough time. Carmen raised her arm and sent another beam of heat racing across the room. When the energy found its mark, however, it s
plashed off the Construct like water. She swore. Not only were the Constructs in hard armor, they were also shielded. She couldn’t help giving Janus an annoyed look, despite the axe swinging toward her face. Unsurprisingly, there was no reaction on his part.
Fine, she thought. Her entire life had been nothing more than a game. Janus and everyone else said she was being tested, but it was just one big game. They’d change the rules and she’d adjust. They’d change the rules again and she’d adjust again. All day, every day, it was one big game. If these were the new rules, she’d play along. Even they knew she was just playing along. It wasn’t like there was anything else she could do.
She dodged out of the axe’s way easily enough, but the other Construct, also armed with a long-sword, required a parry to avoid. This would be difficult even for her. Sure, she could just telekinetically crush their heads, but that would be disrespectful, as Janus often said. No, no, no, not that! Killing them was fine, but not playing by the rules? Sacrilege.
The Construct with the axe came at her again while she contemplated that piece of pointlessness. She wasn’t exactly ready for him. A forward flip corrected that, though, as well as put both Constructs on one side of her. The maneuver wouldn’t have been possible without telekinesis, as she was off balance, but thankfully not all of her natural abilities were considered cheating. She needed them. The axe-wielding Construct’s weapon was quite small, requiring only one hand. It was faster than her weapon could ever hope to be, but it did trade away reach to gain the advantage. Carmen had no qualms about exploiting that either.
She worked to keep that Construct at a distance while she fended off the powerful and accurate strikes of his counterpart. There wasn’t much margin for error—she didn’t wear any armor. She rarely did, and in those times its principal purpose was to stop bullets.
It didn’t take long for her to tire of being on the defensive. Her first attack was a simple if violent affair. From the start, she had never used her long-sword the way non-Clairvoyants did. Most of the stances were the same, as were most of the cuts and thrusts, but beyond that, everything was different. She held the weapon weakly, not out of meekness but because she didn’t really need to hold it at all. With telekinesis, the sword whirled around her with such speed, power, and precision that actually holding the thing was secondary. This time, the intent of her attack was not to kill, at least not to kill the Construct. His shield, however, was not long for this world.
The attack lacked any semblance of sophistication. She swung her weapon with every joule she could telekinetically apply. Her target was the head of the Construct armed with the long-sword, and to say she found her mark would be an understatement. The shield resisted the impact calmly enough. There was a loud bang when she hit, but it wasn’t from the shield, which only flashed. The sword didn’t fare as well. She hit as squarely as she could, but the weapon still bent and strained from the impact. If it was made from any material other than infinium, it would have snapped. Carmen gritted her teeth. She felt everything as the force of her own attack flowed back to her through her weapon. She couldn’t be harmed by her own energy—no Clairvoyant could—but physics were physics, and its laws couldn’t be broken. Well, sort of.
She had done exactly what she had set out to do and was now in a very bad position. The Construct’s shield had fully blunted her attack. He wasn’t even rocked. Worse than that, his shield wasn’t down. Even worse yet, she was completely motionless. For one brief instant, her sword rested against the Construct before she could retreat and reset. She’d been in enough fights by this point in her life that the mere thought of being stationary produced an almost instinctual dread. The fear was well warranted. The other Construct exploited the opportunity, leaping on her without a moment’s hesitation. Once again, she wasn’t ready.
The Construct was coming from her left side, and the only way she could possibly defend herself was to lift her sword off the head of the Construct she had just attacked and then try her best to move it across her body for a badly positioned parry. There was another option, though. She could just go the other way around; a simple spin would do it. Clairvoyant or not, it was something she always loathed doing. She always knew where the Constructs were, but she preferred to use her eyes, and for a brief moment both Constructs would have her back as she spun. It was all a question of timing. Inches and fractions of a second were all she had. If it came down to her muscles, it would be hopeless. Then again, what hopelessness she suffered in her life had never been due to any shortcoming in ability.
She telekinetically lifted herself just off the ground and then spun in place. The room blurred and she let out a groan as, for one brief moment, she became a living gyroscope. Fighting against her own energy was never fun. All Clairvoyants hated it. And that was just the beginning.
Carmen stopped spinning just as quickly as she’d started. That was a mistake. She’d never had much that she could call her own. Sure, she was the one of the most powerful beings in the galaxy, as she had been told over and over again, but to say she had many great possessions was a joke. She had never wasted the time to think about it before. That was, until her little maneuver made her lose her balance. The room continued spinning, even though she was not, and the struggle to keep from falling over was only overshadowed by her outright war to not throw up. The move worked, though, and the rampaging Construct’s axe was batted aside. She even took a moment to counter thrust. It wasn’t the best idea either.
The Construct’s shield resisted her attack so completely that the only thing she accomplished was pushing herself backward the length of her outstretched arms. Honestly, it was kind of comical. Two grown men hatched from test tubes were trying their best to kill her. If they succeeded, she’d be revived for them to try again a different day. She was almost completely unable to hurt them, and her attempt to stab one sent her sliding backward, as if she were standing on ice. Yeah, laugh riot of the century. No wonder they made her play this game.
Now, most hilariously, the other Construct’s sword was rushing to remove her arms from her body. It was a simple counter. She physically let go of the sword while telekinetically holding it against the other Construct to keep him at bay. She didn’t even have to step out of the way of the attacking Construct. His sword hit nothing but air, and now the tables were turned. She pointed both palms at his head and unleashed everything she had in two searing beams of heat. The roar was deafening, like a continuous clap of thunder. Their bright white light was blinding as well, but Carmen didn’t notice. Clairvoyants couldn’t be directly affected by their own energy. She also didn’t notice that the temperature in the enclosed room was fast approaching the boiling point. Despite that, her opponent’s shield held firm. She cursed the devices. It was no small bit of mercy that they were relatively rare.
The effort to sustain the onslaught started taking its toll. To date, she had never passed out from any fight. She’d been close, but no more than that. It wasn’t like being knocked out or getting a torn muscle—those had happened quite a few times before. No, at best it could be described as trying to keep your eyelids open when you’re very tired. It always began slowly. Her heat beams soon cooled to a very bright orange, though she didn’t notice. Moments later, it became increasingly difficult to hold the Construct off with her sword. Those were all the clues Carmen needed to come up with a new plan of attack. She extinguished the heat beams as one would turn off a water faucet. Then she grabbed her sword and charged the Construct full on. He never saw her coming; her beams had been so bright that they melted his retinas.
An odd tickle coursed through her. At the same time, the room cooled faster than what was naturally possible. She was feeding on herself, gathering that which she had just spent, and focusing the energy on the tip of her sword. She screamed as she did it. This would hurt. Just before impact, Carmen lifted her target slightly off the ground. The shield would absorb most of her momentum, as it was designed to, but now it wouldn’t stop her in her tracks.
The tip of her sword met that barrier with a bright flash, yet the drama was incomplete. The sword failed to penetrate anything, as she expected. What momentum she had left served to carry her shoulder into a thunderous collision with the Construct’s chest. Carmen cried out. The shield provided no give, stopping her dead in place. But she wasn’t done. Another telekinetic thrust sent she and the Construct sailing across the room. In that, she needed to be careful. Too much force would be blunted by the shield. Yet steadily, if quickly, it built. She glanced at the rapidly approaching wall and winced. This would hurt too.
The padding on the wall counted for nothing. Carmen, even with all her senses, didn’t notice it. The wall crumbled as their two bodies slammed into it. The padding held mostly together, but the concrete behind it was violently ejected as the wall cratered. She groaned. She felt everything through her body. When she punched or kicked, she normally cushioned the blow with a wall of air. It had become a habit after several broken fists. There was no blunting this impact, however. She wanted to inflict maximum damage, and that had its price.
She momentarily went numb. Then there was a sharp pain. Something was broken somewhere. It wasn’t the first time, of course, but breaking bones was never pleasant. Her vision blurred and her ears rang. She couldn’t help falling to her knees afterward. The Construct fell over too. He was uninjured, but there was something different about him. …His shield was down.
Carmen wasted no time in getting back to her feet. She had wanted to end this before it even started, but he was still wearing that pesky hard armor. It also didn’t help that she was so spent she felt very much like the twelve-year-old girl she was. He came at her, and it was by luck that she managed to parry the blow. Then it built. As Janus said, mind and body were a team. Admittedly, her mind wavered every now and then, but her body was a forged disciplined machine by this point. The pain fell away to nothing, and in seconds she returned to being the monstrous beast that had slain thousands.