by Jacob Gowans
PSION OMEGA
OTHER WORKS BY JACOB GOWANS:
Psion Series:
Psion Beta (2010)
Psion Gamma (2011)
Psion Delta (2012)
Psion Alpha (2013)
A Tale of Light and Shadow:
A Tale of Light and Shadow (2014)
Secrets of Neverak (2015)
PSION OMEGA
By
Jacob Gowans
Copyright 2015 by Jacob Gowans
All characters, events, and text within this novel and series are owned by Jacob Gowans. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, or recorded by any electronic or mechanical means without written permission of the author. For information regarding permission please contact the author at www.jacobgowans.com
Published by Jacob Gowans 2015
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 13
Chapter 26
Epilogue
For Kat,
and Lily,
and Jake,
and Asher,
and Cal-L,
and Mom and Dad,
and Shannon, Becky, Rosalee, and Adam.
And for you.
They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted;
They fell with their faces to the foe.
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning,
We will remember them.
They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables of home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England's foam.
–“For the Fallen” by Laurence Binyon
PSION OMEGA
Prologue
Tuesday, November 11, 2087
A BITTER STENCH emanated off Sammy and Jeffie’s clothes and hair. Scents that would never wash off. Mingled with the smells of death—blood and urine and other things, worse things—it was all unbearable. On Sammy’s left, a dying Hybrid moaned, the sound of its last breath rattling in its throat. Jeffie put a bullet in his head, and the sound stopped. Then she limped to Sammy and squeezed his gloved hand tightly, and Sammy returned the gesture.
They sat on the floor of a room that had once been as white as a blank sheet of paper. Now the stains of blood, brain, and other bits of human that were supposed to stay inside the body covered the walls, floor, and their zero suits. Sammy wished he could enjoy the quiet a little longer, but he knew what was coming—who was coming.
“What do you think is happening out there?” Jeffie asked with a tremor in her voice that told Sammy she was fighting back tears. “I hope it’s working. I don’t—don’t want it to be for nothing.”
Sammy glanced at the time on his com and licked his lips, but his tongue was too dry to offer any moisture. “Are you ready?”
Jeffie took a breath that seemed to stretch on for minutes. She was tired to the core. Sammy could feel it too, deep in his bones. But they weren’t done yet. The time was almost ripe.
“No, not really,” she answered. “But I can’t say that, can I?”
So much depends on us.
Jeffie rested her head on his shoulder. Sammy stroked her hair and kissed her forehead. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m fine … I promise.”
“I know you are.”
“I’m ready—really, I’m ready.” She wiped her eyes and nose. “How much time do we have?”
“Twenty minutes.”
“How are you so calm?”
Sammy wasn’t calm. He was exhausted, yet some reservoir of restless energy made him twitchy. He dreaded what was to come, but deep down sensed his own resolve… and acceptance. He pulled her closer and savored her. How many of these moments do I have left? Perhaps none. With his mouth close to her ear, he whispered, “I’m terrified.”
Jeffie hugged him fiercely and began to shake again. “I don’t want—”
“Shh,” Sammy told her. “I know. It’s okay. You can go back. You don’t have—”
“I do!” she shouted. “I’m not letting you do this alone.”
“I can do it by myself. If I just use it—”
“We can’t risk failure. Two of us increases the odds by—”
Sammy let her go. “I know all that. I’m just saying …”
“Then stop saying.” Jeffie regained her composure quickly. “I’m all right.”
“Okay.”
“Are you, though? Remember your promise, Sammy.”
A flash of rage passed through Sammy, but he suppressed it and let it go. Releasing the rage was like watching a train pass by and observing the faces inside, frightening, monstrous, and alluring all at the same time. He was getting better at doing it. Makes no difference now, does it?
Not true. It makes a difference to her. “I remember.”
Sammy checked his watch again. Nineteen minutes. Then they would finish it. Finish it all.
And at the end, if everyone did everything correctly, Jeffie’s fears would be realized. They would die.
1. History
Thursday, March 13, 2053
“I PLEDGE MY loyalty to the flag of the New World Government. And to the welfare and advancement of mankind, for which it stands, one world, united and indivisible, with freedom and justice for all.”
“Take your seats,” said Mrs. Hepworth in her strained, croaking voice, “and set your desk screens to lecture mode. I won’t tolerate any messaging during class today. Understand, Katie?”
Katie Carpenter blushed as her classmates glanced at her, some with glee, others with condolence. Just yesterday she had been written up for messaging her friends during Mrs. Hepworth’s lecture on the Industrial Revolution. Immediately her desk screen lit up with messages from her four best friends.
Priyanka Patel: Heppy hates you more than she hates her anti-wrinkle cream.
Vivian Wu: Why does she single you out?
Courtney Marzban: What a stupid [censored] [censored]!
Rachel Linn: Can’t stand that moled cow.
Katie winced at the names they’d called her teacher, but then hurried to clear the messages before Mrs. Hepworth caught her and froze her desk. Unfortunately, she wasn’t quick enough. She tried to swipe them away, but nothing moved. Katie grimaced as she slowly brought her gaze up from the screen to her teacher’s face. Mrs. Hepworth’s wrinkled, sagging cheeks turned red as she glared at Katie. The redness highlighted her moles like big black ants on a red picnic blanket.
“You,” Mrs. Hepworth’s voice sounded more strained than ever as she stared Katie down. “And you, Miss Patel, and you, Misses Marzban, Wu, and Linn … all of you will serve detention today and tomorrow with me.”
Katie rolled her eyes and looked out the window. This place is a prison. She hadn’t
done anything wrong. It was her friends who had sent the messages. Except Mrs. Hepworth is too bitter to see it.
Courtney’s auburn hair practically glowed from the sunlight streaming in through the window behind her. The gleam caught Katie’s eye.
“Sorry,” Courtney mouthed to her.
Katie didn’t respond. Behind Courtney, a flock of geese flew above the tree line. They went wherever they wanted. No one stopped them. No one put them in detention. I am less than a goose.
She yawned and rubbed her eyes, then rested her head and arms on top of her desk while Mrs. Hepworth droned on about how royalty in England affected the Industrial Revolution. Katie’s eyelids felt heavy. She hadn’t slept well lately. Dark nightmares haunted her. She wanted to talk to someone about them, but couldn’t. The school counselor would tell her parents. Her parents would make her see a therapist. Her friends would think she was a freak. And if people thought she was a freak, her chances of winning Prom Queen for the third year in a row were over.
Last night’s dream had been the worst yet. Katie had taken a bath in blood, human blood. She knew it was human from all the bodies lying around the basin—faceless corpses that looked like crash test dummies. Then she’d been transported to a forest in the dead of night. She walked a few steps forward, wet leaves squishing underneath her bare feet, sinking between her toes, the soles of her feet uncomfortably cold.
You can be free, a voice said in her dream.
Katie paused and looked around until she saw a shadow, so faint and thin she almost didn’t notice it. The shadow belonged to her, but it didn’t behave as shadows should. It had a three-dimensional form and the closer it drew the more detail she observed. The shadow stood next to her, walked alongside her. Every time she moved, it followed. She tried to run away, but the shadow stayed with her step for step. Finally Katie had no more breath to run. Gasping with her hands on her knees the shadow stepped in front of her.
Don’t run from your destiny.
“What is my destiny?” she asked breathlessly.
To be the greatest. The Queen of All.
“What do you mean?”
You were born to be free, not in chains. Free yourself in the cave.
Katie took her hands off her knees and stood up straight. The shadow was exactly her height, looked exactly like her, but all in black. When it smiled with its black teeth and black eyes, Katie screamed and woke.
When her history class ended, Katie grabbed her bag and walked up the aisle to her teacher’s desk. Mrs. Hepworth pretended not to notice her until the other students had left the room. “What can I do for you, Miss Carpenter?” she asked without looking up.
“I don’t deserve detention.”
“Oh, you don’t?”
“No. I didn’t write those things. I tried to erase them. I can’t control the actions of my friends.”
“You can’t?”
Katie found Hepworth’s answer-questions annoying. “Are you serious? Of course I can’t.”
“You are the reigning prom queen, Miss Carpenter. You started a film club. You are on the varsity basketball squad. You organize the pep rallies. You have more friends and admirers than some B-list celebrities. You know that. Everyone knows that. That makes you a leader. You influence other girls. The way they talk, think, act … all of it stems from you.”
“I didn’t tell them to say those things!” Katie protested.
Mrs. Hepworth finally looked at her with an expression of utter loathing. “Was I born yesterday? Miss Carpenter, I became a teacher because of people like you. People who think they’re superior and special simply because they have a gift for athletics, a clear complexion, straight teeth, the right clothes, or a symmetrical face. It’s bad enough to watch you diminish girls your own age, but to put me down … in my own classroom … I think not.”
“You’re right,” Katie responded. Her frankness made Mrs. Hepworth pause. “The things my friends wrote were rude. But I didn’t write them. I don’t say those things about you. And I don’t treat other girls badly.”
Katie’s last two statements weren’t entirely true. She had said rude things about Mrs. Hepworth to her friends. In fact, she’d said nasty things about all her teachers at one time or another, even the ones she liked. But those comments stemmed from frustration, not malice. As for the other girls in her class, she only despised the girls who despised her. She hadn’t started any gossip wars; she ended them in brutal fashion.
“Katie, you rule this school like a queen whether you see it or not. You will serve detention. You will take responsibility for your influence over your friends.”
“What if I can get my friends to do something good?”
“Like what?” Hepworth fixed Katie with a skeptical look.
“I don’t know. I haven’t thought of anything yet.”
“If you want out of detention, you’d better impress me.”
Katie nodded. She glanced at her teacher, then quickly looked away. Seeing all those moles on her teacher’s face up close made her sick.
“By the end of the school day,” Hepworth added.
Katie hurried to find her friends. They had to come up with something good. Anyone who received five days of detention or more was ineligible for prom queen, and Katie had already served two. The two detentions Hepworth had just assigned would put Katie dangerously close to five.
Her next class, Home Tech, was her favorite: sewing, cooking, woodworking, and repairing small appliances. Her parents had suggested she take it to learn valuable “life skills.” Katie instead signed up for Intro to Nursing, but got squeamish when told they’d have to volunteer at a nursing home and change elderly people’s diapers. Her Home Tech teacher, Mr. Cooley, caught her and her friend, Priyanka, at the door two minutes before the bell.
“Did you bring the knife?” he asked.
Katie nodded and dug in her backpack. “My mom will kill me if she finds out I borrowed it. She won’t even tell me how much it cost.”
“That’s because they’re so expensive.” Mr. Cooley gasped dramatically when she showed it to him. “Look at this elegant grip. Balanced shank and cutting point. Perfectly tuned cutting ability. Pulsing wavelengths render the laser incapable of cutting human flesh, but slices through any fabric … like butter.”
He turned the device over in his hand, groaning and admiring it the same way Katie and her friends would a particularly handsome celebrity. Priyanka glanced at Katie with wide eyes and mouthed, “What a freak!”
“I’m going to test this out,” Mr. Cooley continued, “show it to my department head and see if I can fit one into our budget for next semester.” He lowered his voice. “You’ll pick it up after school, right? And even though it’s not a weapon, do not show it around. You could—maybe, potentially, possibly, and probably—get in trouble.”
Suddenly Katie was pushed from behind. A massive figure walked by holding a hat above his head. “Bobby John loves you!” he called out as he waddled down the hall, laughing hysterically.
Mr. Cooley leaned past Katie and Priyanka through the doorway so he could yell, “Watch where you’re going, Bobby John! You almost hurt somebody!”
“Ew,” Priyanka griped, “Bobby John touched me. He’s so gross!”
Several other kids around Katie and Priyanka laughed, but this gave Katie an idea. She knew exactly how she could get out of detention.
* * * * *
Saturday, April 26, 2087
In the conference room of the fox’s penthouse, the holographic images of several men and women appeared around a large table. At the head sat the Queen, glowering at them. They represented some of the most powerful individuals in the CAG, each deeply ensconced in government, media, or business. For over three decades, the fox had collected them, a group known only as the Council.
The Queen wore a zero suit as she sat in the middle of a hologram projected around her body. The zero suit prevented her body from interacting with the hologram, letting her move freely and
undetected so long as she didn’t break the holographic cylinder the projector cast around her. To all cameras trained on her, she looked like the fox. The microphone she used transformed her voice into the fox’s by using sound wave manipulation. She’d now performed this ruse successfully for over three months.
“You forget an important point,” said Julia Navarre in her typical terse tone. She served as Chief of Staff to President Newberry, leader of the CAG. Her focus was on the Chief Operating Officer of CAG’s largest media group, America Media Network, who had argued that the public was tiring of war coverage. “Your time spent advocating the cause is far more effective than anything the President’s administration can do alone. It has to be together with the three-pronged effort we have long advocated.”
“Polls show our goals are currently not within reach,” a CFO of a giant banking corporation stated. “Public opinion—”
“Polls are no reason to waiver in our commitment,” the Chief of Staff responded. “They rise and fall like the tide. Ignore them.”
“Ironic, those words coming from a politician,” said another media mogul down the table.
“Yes, we knew the war would be unpopular,” the COO of America Media said in a drawling, almost bored voice, “but this data is detrimental. Despite our efforts, the public believes the war shows no sign of ending. We need to consider other options in case public support continues to plummet. Perhaps we could give the enemy a face.”
“That is an intriguing idea,” the Queen agreed. “People want a villain to hate. Is there someone we could turn over to the media?”
“It won’t matter,” said the man at the other end of the table. “It certainly won’t stem our dropping support.”