Psion Omega (Psion series Book 5)

by Jacob Gowans

  “Right,” Jeffie said. “Should we pull up a yoga mat?”

  Sammy cleared his throat pointedly at her. Then he turned back to Vitoria. “We were thinking more like a chat.”

  “Not in the mood,” Vitoria grunted.

  Nor had she been for days. Sammy visited Vivi in the Pen regularly, mostly just sitting with her. After the funerals of Anna and Croz, Sammy had gone to see her. He found her huddled under her blankets stained from snot and tears. It had taken those deaths, he realized, for her to understand that she was free from the S.H.I.E.L.D. program. That she wasn’t being tested. For two days she wouldn’t eat or drink. Sammy begged her to stop fasting, but nothing he said helped. It wasn’t until he convinced Justice Juraschek to come as well that things finally turned.

  Justice knelt by the bed, took Vitoria by the hand, and forgave her through his own tears. He pleaded with Vitoria not to kill herself—that if she did so, Anna’s work would mean nothing. “Please don’t dishonor her memory,” Justice told her. “She wanted you to get better, not die.”

  Finally Vitoria began to take food and drink. Sammy visited almost daily. Occasionally she spoke, always a request for Sammy to talk about Toad. Even after Sammy had exhausted his brain of every memory he had, she asked him to repeat them. Sammy gladly obliged. During the last few weeks her demeanor changed. She no longer dressed or acted provocatively. She slowly stopped glaring at him with wary eyes. And she occasionally even smiled at him.

  But Vitoria wasn’t smiling now. Her eyes flickered to Jeffie as her scowl deepened. “I brought Jeffie so you could get to know her,” Sammy explained. “She’ll be accompanying us on the mission.”

  “You keep mentioning the mission, but you never say what it is.” Vitoria raised an eyebrow. “What if I don’t want to go?”

  Sammy shrugged. “We’re pinning our hopes on you not saying that.”

  “Why me? I killed three of your people.” Just like that, the light was gone from Vitoria’s eyes, and she was the broken, lonely girl again. “Now you want to give me the combination to the bank vault?”

  Sammy shrugged. “That’s the situation, Vivi. You’ve got four weeks to show us we can trust you. If we can’t, you’re going anyway, but you’ll be cuffed, sedated, and a huge drain on our time and resources.”

  “But you still won’t tell me what this mission is,” Vivi said as she got back down on the floor to continue exercising.

  “In time we will,” Jeffie said. “Today I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions to get to know you better.”

  Vitoria resumed her lunges back and forth across the room. “You can ask.”

  “What kind of movies do you like?”

  “Is this supposed to make us trust each other?”

  Jeffie gave Sammy a helpless look. “No. Depending on what movies you watch, I may trust you even less.”

  The joke caught Vitoria off-guard. Sammy seized on the opportunity. “Toad said you liked pony movies. What does that mean?”

  Jeffie chuckled, but quickly covered her nose. “Pony Town? Did you watch that? I loved that show!”

  Sammy made a face of disgust. “What?” he asked Jeffie. “You watched a show about ponies?”

  “Yes! When I was seven and eight, I never missed it.”

  “Well that’s one thing we don’t have in common.”

  “Tell me you’re joking. You’ve really never heard of Pony Town?”

  “Did you like that show too?” Sammy asked Vitoria.

  Vitoria shrugged.

  “Every girl in school loved it.” Jeffie snapped her fingers and started to sing. She did not have the greatest singing voice, though she wasn’t terrible. “Come on down to … Pony Town! No one frowns in … Pony Town!”

  “We’ll have some fun, you’ll meet someone,” Vitoria jumped in.

  Then the girls finished together, “If you come to … Pony Town!”

  “There’s two more verses,” Jeffie said, grinning widely. “Do you want to hear them?”

  Sammy cleared his throat. “No, thanks. I get the gist of it.”

  Jeffie turned back to Vitoria. “So what kind of music do you listen to?”

  “Tope de mesa,” Vitoria answered.

  “What’s that?”

  Vitoria rolled her eyes and stopped her lunges. “In the north they call it tabletop music, but it started in Rio as tope de mesa. Because the beat …” She swayed and gyrated her hips rapidly and provocatively with her arms raised above her head. “It’s made for dancing on top of tables.”

  Jeffie raised an eyebrow at Sammy. “I guess I’ll have to look into that.”

  “My mom used to take me—” Vitoria paled and stopped speaking, her body no longer swaying, her gaze stuck on the carpet. A fat tear rolled down one cheek, but she smacked it off her face with a hard SLAP.

  Jeffie put a hand on her shoulder.

  “It’s okay,” Sammy said in his gentlest tone. “You can tell us. What do you remember about your mom?”

  Vitoria shrugged Jeffie’s hand off of her. “What do you remember about your parents?” she asked, now using a tough, sullen voice. “Them hugging and kissing you goodbye before sending you off to Psion school?”

  “That was my parents,” Jeffie said. “Or at least, I wish it’d been. My mom said goodbye to me three weeks before I left because she had a film to shoot. My dad didn’t hug me, he gave me a fist bump when he dropped me off at the air rail hub. Told me to stay awesome. Pretty cool, huh?”

  “I wasn’t asking you,” Vitoria sneered.

  “My parents …” Sammy said, a lump in his throat, “the last time I saw them they were being wheeled away in body bags.”

  “Thirteens?” Vitoria asked.

  “No.”

  “Who did it then?”

  Sammy shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t think about it much anymore.”

  The haunted, vacant look returned to Vitoria’s eyes. “I don’t see the point in this. You two should go.”

  “Vivi …” Sammy sighed, “We just want to get to know you.”

  “I genuinely want to be your friend,” Jeffie said.

  Vitoria snorted. “And I genuinely want chlamydia.”

  “Vivi …” Sammy repeated.

  “Give it a rest, Sammy. No one wants to be my friend. You’ve all seen what I’m capable of.”

  “We’re all capable of horrible things.”

  “But you haven’t done them.” Tears welled up in Vitoria’s eyes, but she covered her face before they fell.

  “I have,” Sammy admitted.

  “So have I,” Jeffie said. “But I haven’t been brainwashed. I don’t have an excuse for my actions.”

  Vitoria let out a mirthless, hollow laugh. “Brainwashed. If you believe I was brainwashed, then how can you trust me? I’m a bomb. A bomb that you never know when it’s going to blow.”

  “I’m willing to give you a second chance,” Sammy said. “If you can prove that you’re worthy of it.”

  “Should I sign my name in blood?” A faint smile appeared on Vitoria’s lips.

  Sammy delved into his bag and removed a rope. “Jeffie, tie me to the chair. Tie me well enough that I can’t get out.”

  Jeffie took the items hesitantly. “Okay.”

  It took her about five minutes to tie him. The ropes bit into his wrists and ankles. Vitoria watched them skeptically.

  “You can leave now, Jeffie,” he said.

  “No. I’m not leaving you like this.”

  Sammy looked at her. “Please. Trust me.”

  Jeffie’s eyes flashed and he thought she was going to refuse. “Why is it always your way?” He heard the hurt in her voice and wondered if he should have told her his plan after all.

  “Trouble in paradise,” Vitoria muttered.

  Jeffie shot Vitoria a glare. “I’m standing right outside the door.”

  “It’ll be locked.”

  Jeffie swore at him. “Why—”

  “Can we discuss it later?
”

  Without another word, Jeffie left, shutting the door harder than needed. Vitoria gave a low whistle. “You sure know how to charm the ladies, Sammy. So now what? You and I explore the wonders of bondage together?”

  “Take out the last item, please, Vivi.”

  Smirking sultrily, Vitoria reached into the bag. “Let me guess, it’s a giant …” She removed the item, frowning at it. “Knife. Good grief, you couldn’t find a bigger one?”

  “It’s called a bowie knife.”

  “I know what it’s called. My question is why?”

  “You’re a smart girl, Vivi. You figure it out.”

  Vitoria handled the weapon thoughtfully, hefting it and examining its edge. “Sharp.” She ran a finger along the blade and drew blood. “Very.”

  Before Sammy could even react, she dashed at him and pressed the blade against his throat. Sammy didn’t flinch, didn’t blink. “I trust you. There’s nothing to stop you from killing me except yourself.”

  Vitoria bared her teeth, her eyes blazed. “You think I won’t?”

  Sammy kept his face neutral, but when he swallowed hard, he felt the blade sting his neck. “I hope you won’t.”

  “I’ve killed before. What’s to stop me now?”

  “I’m your brother.”

  She gritted her teeth and grabbed his hair, yanking his head back and exposing his neck. It dawned on Sammy that he may have grossly miscalculated. “I had a brother. It wasn’t you.”

  “I know. I wish all this crap had never happened to you. I wish you’d never had to meet me because it’d mean you have a normal life. But I can’t do that, Vivi! I can’t change the past. Neither can you. But we can change the now. That knife has two uses. It can either cut my throat, or cut my ropes. If you want to cut my throat, go ahead. But I think you’d rather use that knife to cut me free.”

  Vitoria raised the knife. He steeled himself for the end. I am an idiot.

  “You’re wrong, Sammy.” She swung it down with all the speed and strength her Anomaly Fifteen gave her. Sammy heard a crack and fell to the floor, still bound to the chair which now had one less leg. When his head smacked the carpet, his vision blurred.

  Vitoria knelt near his head, but he couldn’t see her. All he saw was something falling in front of his face like snowflakes and a loud scratching noise. Then it dawned on him that Vitoria was carving the wood.

  “What are you making, Vivi?”

  She didn’t answer, and the shavings continued to float down, some landing on his nose and cheek. They tickled his skin and nearly drove him mad.

  “Can you at least sit me back up?” His voice sounded odd because the floor mashed his lips together.

  Vitoria jerked him up and put something on his lap. A flower, carved from the wood. Despite its simple design and rough edges, it was lovely. As Sammy stared at it, Vitoria walked behind him and sliced through the ropes, freeing Sammy’s wrists. He exhaled in relief.

  “You look relieved. Did you trust me or not?”

  Sammy rubbed his sore skin. “Trust, but verify.” He picked up the flower and examined it. “It’s beautiful. You did it so fast.”

  She touched the side of his head. “I had to know if you really trusted me. I thought when I raised the knife …”

  “That I’d stop you? That I had a trick up my sleeve?”

  Vitoria looked away. “I’m not sorry.”

  Sammy pulled the rest of the ropes off his arms and legs, then packed everything back in the bag, including the flower. “Why did you make that for me, Vivi?”

  Vitoria looked Sammy square in the eyes. This time her gaze was neither hollow nor lustful, but something different. Something real. “Because I don’t love you like a brother.”

  Sammy had no response.

  “So what do you need me for?”

  “How do you feel about a trip to Rio?”

  * * * * *

  Friday, May 30, 2053

  Katie used every manipulative tool in her belt in order to get her parents to reverse their decision on attending prom. The one that finally worked was bringing home Bobby John so she could tutor him at the kitchen table. When her parents saw them interacting, and Bobby John’s naturally sweet nature, they folded.

  The more difficult part for Katie was not getting into more trouble. Her violent urges grew as the days passed. Every time she saw Mark, her ex-boyfriend, she wanted to kick him so hard in the balls that he coughed them up. She also wanted to continue her fight with Priyanka, but Priyanka avoided Katie like she would a nasty pimple outbreak.

  Despite Katie’s best efforts to control her behavior, little things kept happening that pushed her right to the brink of rage. When she and Courtney argued about restaurants a week before prom night, Katie punched the locker next to Courtney’s head and dented it. She drove Rachel to tears by screaming at her for messing up prom decoration purchases. But after every incident, the guilt drove Katie to offer them sincere, tearful apologies.

  With all their work with the decorations committee, coordinating the awards ceremony, and the music selection group, the night of the prom came quickly for Katie and her friends. That afternoon, Courtney, Vivian, and Rachel met at Katie’s house for pictures. All four girls’ dates were kids with special needs. Their mothers cried as they snapped their pictures. Even Katie’s father got choked up as he kissed his daughter goodbye.

  Two limousines arrived, paid for by the sixteen sets of parents. Four boys and four girls with special needs and their eight dates. Bobby John’s favorite food was steak, so dinner was at a steakhouse. With the help of his mother, Bobby John had bought Katie a corsage. However, he accidentally sat on it in the car on the way to Katie’s house, so it was wilted and squashed when he put it on her wrist.

  “Bobby John loves you,” he exclaimed, tipping the Razorbacks cap that he had insisted on wearing to the dance.

  Katie smiled, tears in her eyes. “Katie loves you, too.”

  Before she left her house, Katie slipped a bottle labeled SUPERLAX into her handbag. As soon as she did so, a faint aching crept into her gut, but she thought of Priyanka, of the pictures she had posted all over the walls of the school, and the pain went away.

  Once inside the limo, Courtney leaned over to Katie. “Did you get it?”

  Katie patted her handbag and smiled wickedly. Courtney nodded bravely. Then they turned their attention to their dates.

  Vivian’s beau for the evening, Reblon Mohammed, made everyone laugh. Due to his moderate autism, he behaved a little odd, but he was funny and sincere. Courtney’s date, Axel Gardner, didn’t say much and always kept one finger up his nose. It didn’t matter what he was doing. One finger was always in his nose, the other was usually tightly entangled in Courtney’s hand. Courtney smiled at this and even put a finger up her own nose when they did pictures. Axel laughed a deep, booming bark when she did this and put a finger up both nostrils. When Courtney copied him, Axel doubled over laughing. Tim Finlayson, Rachel’s date, didn’t like being touched or looked at. While riding in the limo, Rachel tried to talk to him and bring him out of his shell. He yelled at her for being too loud, so she crossed her arms and frowned the rest of the drive.

  The steakhouse featured several small rooms, each decorated to portray different themes. All of them had a large window overlooking a pool where cliff divers jumped and performed aerial stunts to the view of the crowd. Because they had reserved their room later than most, Katie’s group got the caveman theme. Bobby John clapped so hard and so long that Katie thought he might do permanent damage to his hands. In Axel’s excitement, he jammed his finger so far up his nose that it started to bleed. Katie, however, struggled to enjoy herself. She kept seeing visions of her dreams—of dark wet caves, eternally long staircases, and a door that pulsed and throbbed with life.

  The dream was a regular occurrence, and it never changed. Almost every night she descended the stairs, shivering in the darkness and clutching the knife. When she reached the bottom of the pitch-bla
ck cave, she stared blankly into space, weeping and whimpering as some vile, pulsing, stinking unseen thing sent its reverberating waves through her body. Yet as much as her dream terrified her, Katie wanted to know what lurked just out of sight down in the cave’s depths. More often than not, she woke with tears on her face and her sheets wet with urine.

  After the pre-prom meal, the limo transported them to the hotel where the dance was held. Each couple waited in line to be announced over the microphone. As her group neared the entrance, Katie noticed news cameras, which she thought strange. She had never seen a prom on the news before. But as her group of friends approached, the cameras stayed trained on them.

  “Are you Katie Carpenter?” asked one of the reporters, a tall, thin woman wearing too much makeup. “Will you introduce us to your friends and tell us about the program you’re involved in today?”

  Katie stared at Rachel and Courtney who nodded encouragingly. Apparently being on the news seemed like exactly what they wanted. Courtney and Rachel beamed and batted their eyes, showing off Tim Finlayson and Axel Gardner like they were twin male models. The interview went on for almost twenty minutes during which time Bobby John wet his pants. Fortunately for him, no one caught it until the cameras were off, but none of the kids knew what to do

  Taking him by the hand, Katie led him to one of the tables, sat him on a chair, and said, “Stay here, Bobby John. I’m trying to call your mom.”

  Katie tried three times to reach his mother, but no one answered. After the third attempt, Katie punched and kicked a wall so hard that she dented it. She shrieked and cursed until the rage burned out. Why was I so stupid to think bringing Bobby John and his ilk to my prom was a good idea?

  When she returned to her friends with the news, Rachel protested, “He’ll stink up the dance floor!”

  Katie ignored her and turned to Bobby John. “I can’t reach your mom, Bobby John. I’m sorry. Do you want to sit here?”

  “Bobby John loves you, Katie,” he said, grinning. “Bobby John is having the best night.”

  At that moment, all the rage in her heart vanished and she hugged Bobby John around his thick neck. Bobby John returned her hug with equal ferocity. “Do you want to dance, Bobby John?” she asked.