Prisoner of the Mind (Project Archon Book 1)

by Kal Spriggs

  Shaden popped up his visor and looked at the woman in the driver's seat. “We have to get out of here, now!”

  “What?” she asked.

  “They just dropped a bomb, go!” Shaden shouted. He didn't bother to try to climb into the van, he just clung to the side as the engine sputtered to life. She slammed it in reverse and hit the gas.

  The van slid backwards, but slowly, too slowly, Shaden felt. As they came up to the back door, he realized that there was no way they could clear the warehouse in time.

  They were going to die. Worse than that, he was going to fail. He had gotten into this mess to save someone's life... and here he was about to fail and let them die.

  Without thinking, he let go of the door and he slid a few feet until his feet found purchase on the pavement. Shaden reached out and with everything he had left, he pulled and ripped at the energy of the air around him. Arms extended, fingers splayed, he clawed at the very air to pull every bit of energy he could. He felt the air temperature drop, felt that false sense of invulnerability wash over him... and then he threw everything he could muster into turning the air in front of him into a broad, solid shield of kinetic force.

  It felt as if he were trying to hold a bag full of angry cats with nothing more than his brain. Shaden felt hot blood spurt out his nose. Energy flowed out of him like water out of a bucket with no bottom.

  And then the bomb hit.

  The J-133 attack bomber had dropped a relatively light five hundred pound, guided bomb. The pilot, not knowing the situation, had aimed for the center of the warehouse, which meant that the fifty meters distance that the van had gained gave Shaden some standoff... albeit not enough to normally matter.

  The shockwave and concussion should have killed him outright, yet the barrier he had erected to shelter himself and the van blunted that force somewhat.

  Shaden didn't know any of that... all he saw was a flash of light as a wall of force picked him up and slammed him through the front windshield of the van.

  ***

  Chapter 19

  The most amazing thing about Amalgamated Worlds is how every section is compartmentalized. It’s not a case of the right hand not knowing what the left hand is doing, it’s a case of every finger being up to something different, often at odds with the rest of the hand.

  --Memoirs of Shaden Mira

  One thing that my years of work with ESPSec has taught me: always have an out. I’ve seen more than one of their contractors discarded or betrayed over simple bureaucratic pettiness and spite. Sometimes I wonder if it would just be easier to work against them directly… but that would take half the fun out of the game.

  --Dr. Jonathan Halving, Project Archon Notes

  Doctor Jonathan Halving looked up as someone knocked at his office door. He glanced across his desk to make sure he hadn’t left anything vital out for any unwelcome observers. There were things that crossed his desk that he knew would turn even the most loyal of his people.

  That was why his most vital information either remained entirely in his head or, more rarely, written down by hand. Halving’s previous work with Amalgamated Worlds had taught him volumes about the insecurity of the most secure computers and communications.

  “Come in,” Halving said.

  He smiled as Misha opened the door and stepped inside. Can I speak without being overheard? As always, the crisp, precise thoughts that Misha projected brought a smile to his face. There were days he was very proud of his protege and how she had risen above her origins.

  “We may speak freely, Misha.” The look on his lieutenant’s face prompted his answer as much as the received thought. Halving frowned slightly, “Your level of paranoia suggests more bad news.” Halving waved her to one of the plush leather chairs.

  “More, sir?” Misha asked as she took a seat.

  “Sorry, I’d forgotten you were off world and hadn’t heard. Our escaped male subject killed Cyrus three days ago,” Halving said.

  “Shit.” Misha looked pale. “The old man? Are we sure it was...”

  “He burned to death with no signs of accelerants... in the middle of a firefight,” Halving turned to face his window and looked out across the Long Island Sound. “Just over there… I could feel the fighting, I could hear Cyrus call out for help in my head.”

  Halving shook his head, “If ESPSec had felt it necessary to give me the services of a helicopter like I’d asked, then I might have reached him in time to do some good. As it was…” He shook his head. “I'm told one they dispatched one of our military security squads, which in turn ran into some sort of InSec counter-terrorism operation. Colonel Givens hasn't been forthcoming about what happened after that, but she seems certain that the escaped subject is no longer an issue.” Halving turned to face his subordinate again, “You brought information on the Colonel?”

  “Yes, sir.” Misha said. “And more, although finding anything about Colonel Givens was hard enough. Her file with ESPSec is off the books. Any information beyond her badge number and rank is restricted to General Ke Lung’s office. Her service record is simply gone.”

  “Gone?” Halving frowned, “Aren’t all military and government records kept—”

  “Yes, in three separate computers on Earth, Mars, and Centauri’s Elysia,” Misha said. The bland-looking woman shook her head, “Someone’s cleared all three systems, which as far as I know is impossible. Not only that but they put some very sophisticated traps into the system to locate anyone pursuing the information that’s no longer there. I lost my primary access here on Earth, and my guy on the inside on Mars may have immigrated to the Colonies to avoid the agents after him.”

  “And Centauri?” Halving asked.

  Misha shrugged, “I got smart and used a local hacker for that one. Military police kicked down his door three minutes after he confirmed the file deletion there.”

  “So Colonel Givens has very high backers…” Halving murmured, “Why?”

  “I couldn’t find out as much there as I’d hoped,” Misha said. “Without her service records, I can’t even confirm where she was born much less who she’s worked for. I had one bit of luck with some private investigators… though military police picked up two of them. Either a dissatisfied employer or the same people who provide Givens’ security put the third one in the morgue.”

  Misha pulled a manila folder out of her briefcase and passed it across the desk, “There was a Charles Givens reported to ESPSec by his wife, a Captain Alisha Givens of Counter Terrorism Branch. I found the report filed in an ESPSec station computer in Chicago. The report notes they had one daughter, Jessica Givens, who at the time showed no signs of psionic abilities.”

  “Seven years ago?” Halving asked, reading the report. “That’s an awfully quick time frame to make full bird Colonel, especially if she transferred over to ESPSec afterward.” Like most of the government bureaucracies, ESPSec had little upward mobility. Those in power stayed in power, especially with the advent of life-prolonging drugs. A rapid rise would only come over the literal death of superiors or a total willingness to do the jobs no one else would do. Either sounds equally likely with my overseer, Halving thought absently.

  “The picture on file matches Colonel Givens,” Misha said.

  Halving flipped back the front page and stared at the cold-eyed woman on the next. The past seven years had hardened that already stony expression. Halving couldn’t help but recognize her as the woman who now held control over his experimentation, and to an extent, his very life. “So I see.” He looked at the minimal information the ESPSec agents had recorded on the woman, then turned the page to stare at the face of the husband she’d turned into ESPSec.

  “What happened to him?” Halving asked.

  “Seeing as how he had only extremely minor psychokenetic abilities, they offered to parole him over to her as a ward of the state. She declined. They shipped him to the San Antonio facility. His record says he volunteered for Serum Five, with the standard results,” Misha’s lip
curled in distaste.

  Halving scowled himself. The “volunteers” for Serum Five either received it involuntarily or without information on their chances of survival. The serum caused severe chemical reactions in the brain, which, if it functioned properly, burned out the synapses in the brain that allowed psychic ability. It also burned out most of the other synapses in the brain. They didn’t tell the volunteers that the scientists developed it from research into chemical weapons. In fact, Serum Five came from a synthetic derivation of cobra venom.

  The handful of people who didn’t end up curled up like bugs ended up totally lobotomized.

  “Fucking monstrous,” Halving said.

  “Agreed, sir,” Neither of them felt any discomfort at the fact that they’d each sent plenty of unregistered psychics to the camps at San Antonio. Many of those psychics had, without a doubt, received Serum Five. Neither would ever send one of their own there. Even if one of his people betrayed him, Halving would – and had – killed them himself rather than giving them to ESPSec.

  “Anything else on Colonel Givens?” Halving asked.

  Misha shook her head, “No sir, not on her specifically, but I was able to interpolate some data on what she’s doing here.”

  “Oh?” Halving arched an eyebrow.

  “There are three major operations out of ESPSec right now, sir.” Misha said, “The one we’re under is the partnership with Amalgamated Worlds Military.”

  “Yes, I know all about Operation Atlas, and our own Project Archon,” Halving said. Atlas was their official funding project. Halving had worked under Atlas for the past decade, during which time he’d participated in dozens of classified projects. Atlas's goals were to research psychics and analyze and categorize their abilities. Archon was ESPSec's twisted take on things, seeking to turn a normal psychic into an empowered weapon. “What concerns me is what ESPSec might have piggybacked onto Atlas, without letting us or the military know.”

  “Well, sir, that’s a difficult question,” Misha said. “I can’t say for certain what the other two operations are. One seems organized around an upcoming purge, and from the rumors I could get, it sounds like they plan to hit a major city.”

  Halving winced, “Yes, that’s going to be a mess. Don’t these idiots realize that every time they push the best and brightest psychics into a corner it becomes a game of Russian Roulette?” ESPSec occasionally targeted “sanctuary” cities where the local police either didn't or couldn't enforce the anti-psychic laws. What happened was that ESPSec arrived in force, took over the local police, drew in military units to establish a perimeter, and then went door to door testing for psychics. In the process they tended to find a lot of criminals, illegal human trafficking operations, and other such undesirables... none of whom wanted to be caught.

  “It will backfire sooner or later, sir,” Misha said neutrally. “But we probably wouldn’t be the best people to tell them that. The first thing they'll do after it blows up in their face is look for someone to blame…”

  “Yes, and they’d rather believe one of their mercenaries ratted an operation out rather than accept that it was their own stupidity.” Halving grimaced. “I just hope this latest purge is as far away from our facility as possible.” The last time the Bureau of ESP Security had “purged” a city, it had been Atlanta and in the end, between mass riots and armed insurrection, something over five million people had died. Halving's lips pursed in thought, from the reports I read, they had to call in orbital strikes in order to quell the insurrection. He wanted to be nowhere near the next such purge, especially given the ease at which ESPSec could revoke his current arrangement with them.

  “Agreed, sir. Word in the community is that those who haven’t ‘come over’ in groups like ours have begun to organize themselves.” Misha said. Halving nodded, it matched what he had heard. There was safety in numbers, whether those numbers worked for or against the current system. In the long run, he thought the “other” side would win... but he had a good idea about just how many of them would have to die for that victory. “I have the feeling this latest purge will probably be the one to blow up in ESPSec’s face.” Both of the psychics chuckled at that. Neither of them cared too much about their ‘kind’ but neither had any particular love for ESPSec. They just knew it paid to join the winning side. Halving thought about the various accounts he had squirreled away across Earth and even on some of the core colonies. It pays very well indeed.

  “That leaves a third operation,” Misha said. “From what little I can find out about it… it’s very, very black,” Misha said. She referred to the special operations term for activities totally off the radar of the public or even most of the bureaucracy of Amalgamated Worlds.

  Halving knew that there were levels of “black” of course. The undeclared war between Amalgamated Worlds and the Colonials was, at best, gray. The major news networks broadcast the Provisional Colonial Republican Army as ‘terrorists’ or ‘human caused disasters’ and the military operations against them as ‘police actions.’ That didn’t change the fact that several Army Corps had occupation duty and four Space Fleets had orders for “anti-piracy” operations.

  His operation, to build psychic weapons to turn against the PCRA or other disloyal elements lay deep in the black operations category. If anyone in the media so much as sniffed it, heads would roll. He considered that as he asked, “How is their security compared to ours?”

  “Judging by the umbrellas of security I can’t even peek under, very much more secure,” Misha grimaced. “In fact, I checked our security, and I found a lot of holes, some that are just obvious enough for me to feel very, very insecure.” Misha looked at the closed door.

  When she looked back she spoke in a low voice, as if she feared someone would overhear. “Sir, given the… blanks left in certain areas and the gaps left in others… it feels as if they want us to be located. It looked like they’d structured our security so that someone who looked for our operation would find it.” Misha looked more than a little frightened, “Sir, frankly, it looks like we’re bait.”

  Halving sat back in his own chair. The obvious fear in his subordinate’s face held sufficient evidence that he should find this reason to be concerned. And from the disparate facts, Halving felt uneasily certain that he’d find her fear well-grounded given sufficient time to think. “Yes, more bad news indeed,” Halving said.

  “That’s not all, sir.” Misha looked distinctly uncomfortable, almost as if she didn’t trust her next words. “One of my assets cultivated a senior aide to a councilman on the Command Council. I wouldn’t give much credence to either her story or what he said… except they both disappeared two days ago. I don't mean executed, I mean they disappeared.” Misha shrugged, “What they passed along makes no sense, except in a way that scares the crap out of me. “

  Misha looked again at the door, “Apparently when he was drunk, the aide mentioned ESPSec was very close to cracking SIGIL.”

  Halving closed his eyes. At first, it would make little sense to someone who didn’t have his knowledge. The obvious flaw with the aide’s statement was that SIGIL was, to the best of anyone’s knowledge, a domestic terrorist organization with unknown goals. ESPSec was a security organization designed to hunt down psychics. The Bureau of Internal Security, or InSec handled terrorists and other internal threats to Amalgamated Worlds, with a broad jurisdiction throughout the Sol System and the other core worlds. They even operated jointly with the Amalgamated Worlds Military out in the colonies.

  ESPSec never had jurisdiction over anything but cases involving psychic phenomena. Therefore, they should have no direct interest in SIGIL, since SIGIL was a Colonial terrorist organization with no ties to psychics.

  “Well, that is interesting,” Halving could not keep the dry note out of his voice.

  He as much felt as saw Misha’s shock at Halving’s total lack of surprise. Halving smiled slightly, “Honestly, Misha, I had heard rumors… quiet ones granted, but ones that seemed to sugg
est there might be psychics involved in SIGIL’s activities.”

  “But sir… couldn’t that be disastrous for us?” Misha asked, her face filled with fear. “I mean, the Provisional Colonial Republican Army is one thing, but this is SIGIL. My God, if nothing else… if anyone ever ties together what they did in Italy with a psychic…”

  She didn’t have to say any more. When SIGIL had dropped a freighter from orbit on Rome, they’d precipitated the largest terrorist event in human history. They’d killed tens of millions and destroyed countless historic artifacts. The fireball itself had scorched across much of southern Europe and the impact had left a crater that the Mediterranean had filled.

  The Nova Roma Crusade had occurred as a direct result, as millions of survivors and those who supported them had gone on the offensive. To date, the paramilitary Crusaders had conquered four of the colonies where the suspected terrorists had originated from. The best of those worlds they had claimed for themselves, with the support of Amalgamated Worlds. That support was little surprise, the so called “Nova Romans” were staunch supporters for central authority. The fact that they turned out colonial terrorist supporters and seized their property in the process was of little consequence in the scheme of things.

  Halving grimaced. “Your point is taken. We’re already scapegoats for humanity’s ills, and SIGIL’s actions are abominable… but that doesn’t change the fact that there are credible rumors regarding some of their actions. Those rumors suggest that they have at least a few psychic members.” What I know suggests far more than that, Halving thought, but Misha doesn’t need to have that information.

  Halving shrugged, “Honestly, I’m not surprised. The majority of humanity’s psychic population is on Earth. In spite of the fact that SIGIL has used colonials as pawns in many of their attacks attacks… SIGIL is actually an Earth-based organization. The colonies have a minimal psychic population and ESPSec ruthlessly purges most of them often enough that that will never change. That’s why the PCRA has no psychic members.”