Psychogen (Galactic Syndicate Cycle Book 1)

by N. C. Madigan

  Vely needed to know more. And she needed to talk to Dom and Becce. They might not be aware of the situation. She doubted that those two would agree to be involved with that sort of underhanded activity. After all, it sounded like Zimir and Warwick were helping someone who was not part of the Syndicate. Vely pushed herself away from the door and tiptoed down the hall as quickly as possible.

  She made her way back to Becce’s room and knocked on the door, waiting impatiently for her to answer. After several minutes of knocking and bouncing on her heels, Becce opened the door, wearing only a tank top and her underwear. Vely averted her eyes and blushed.

  “What’s wrong?” Becce asked, pressing her hand to the side of her head.

  “I overhead Zimir talking to someone,” Vely said. “It’s not good.” Becce perked up slightly at this news. She stepped back and allowed Vely into her room. The door closed behind her and she looked around. Becce usually kept an immaculate room, but it appeared that she carelessly tossed around clothes and towels the night before when they returned to the ship, still wildly intoxicated. Vely waited while Becce pulled on a pair of pants and collapsed back on her bed.

  “Ok, I’m ready,” she moaned, throwing her arm over her eyes.

  “Zimir was telling someone that because the Cove moved, he couldn’t tell the person where we were, and that we couldn’t leave. And whoever he was talking to said he wants “the Tranq,” which I assume is me,” Vely explained. Becce lifted her arm and sat up. “Whoever it was has Liza, and they know about our dyad.”

  “What?” she breathed, squinting her eyes, either in thought or to block out the light in the room.

  “Captain Warwick is involved, too, but apparently is distracted by his promotion within the Syndicate,” Vely explained. “At least, that’s what I’m assuming Zimir meant.” Becce lowered her head back down.

  “I’m too hungover for this,” she complained, rubbing her temples. Vely lifted an eyebrow.

  “This is kind of important.”

  “I know. I know.”

  “It’s not a coincidence that Liza was captured on the Cove. Zimir and Captain Warwick are behind it. I’m sure of it,” Vely said, clenching her hands into fists. Becce nodded, and again tried to push herself up into a sitting position.

  “Your brains will be Zimir’s downfall,” Becce muttered, glancing at Vely, giving her a smile. Vely wasn’t sure if Becce was joking or not. “Vely, I really, really want to take this seriously, but I literally cannot move,” Becce said, once again giving up to the artificial gravity. Vely sighed.

  “I’m going to make you something to eat, but if Zimir attacks me in the process, it’ll be your fault,” Vely said with a frown. It sounded like something Liza would say, and she hoped that maybe it would help kick Becce into action. The way Becce flinched meant it had sort of worked, but the effects of alcohol withdrawal continued to inhibit her. Becce reached out to a shelf near her bed and groped around blindly until her hands closed around a gamma pistol. She tossed it to Vely, who barely caught it.

  “Shoot him if he attacks you,” she said.

  “Aye, aye,” Vely said sarcastically, and left the room, tucking the gamma pistol into her pocket.

  The condition of the crew confirmed Vely’s resolve to not drink alcohol. After leaving Becce’s room, she walked to the galley, where Corbin leaned against a counter, the ingredients for breakfast spread out in front of him. As Vely approached, he glanced at her over his shoulder.

  “Thank the stars,” he muttered. “Help me.” Vely sighed and tilted her head to the side.

  “Let me guess, you literally cannot move?” she asked. Corbin nodded his head, missing her sarcasm. “Go sit,” she ordered, and the large man lumbered away from the counter and slumped into a chair. “Was anyone else here when you came in?” Vely asked, pulling a bowl towards her and setting to prepare one of the dishes that Corbin had taught her.

  “No, missy,” he answered, his hands over his face. Vely wanted to tell Corbin everything she’d just told Becce, but she felt like she should wait. Who knew which of the crew members could be trusted? Sure, Corbin was nice, but if he were fiercely loyal to Captain Warwick, he might betray her. Instead, she continued to bustle around the galley, making breakfast and coffee for the crew, hoping it might bring them back to some level of humanity.

  Just as she was finishing, she heard voices in the hallway. Dom, Captain Warwick, and the twins peered into the galley.

  “Vely is our savior,” Captain Warwick proclaimed when he saw her. In spite of herself, Vely smiled.

  “Go sit,” she ordered them waving her hand. They gave her clumsy salutes and disappeared from the galley. “You too, Corbin,” she said. Corbin dragged himself from the chair and left the galley. Vely gathered her dishes and brought them to the table in the adjoining room, where most of the crew had gathered, looking absolutely worse for wear.

  A few minutes later, with a cup of coffee in his hands, Captain raised his cup and said, “To Vely. For being the only sane one among us.” The rest of the crew toasted her, except Zimir, who was staring her down. Vely ignored him, feeling frustration and anger well in her chest. When she looked down at her plate, she saw that a fine blue mist was curling away from her hands. Cursing to herself, she tried to calm down, to stop the uninhibited release of Tranquility. She didn’t want to make their hangovers worse.

  Food and coffee revived the crew. Corbin and the twins took care of the dishes, leaving Vely with some free time. Vely gave Becce a significant look, wanting to talk to her again, but Becce shook her head.

  “Not yet,” she mouthed to Vely. With a sigh, Vely nodded, wondering why she had to wait to bring up a life-or-death situation.

  40

  Liza was released from the medical facility the following morning. Though she was in near constant pain, she pushed through it, making sure she attended every scheduled session, ate every meal, and appeared to be in total control.

  Only Gwen knew that when Liza laid down at night, she moaned her pain into her pillow. Gwen tried to convince Liza to take it easy, but the stubborn woman refused.

  A few days after, Liza was lying on her bed in between sessions when the door to their room opened, and Gwen walked in with a male Tranq in tow. Liza lifted her head up from the bed.

  “Who is that?” Liza asked.

  “He won’t tell me his name, but he has agreed to help you out,” Gwen said.

  “What do you mean?” Liza asked, staring at the Tranq. His skin was dark, but not as dark as Gwen’s. His black hair was shaved close to his scalp. Without a word, he stepped around Gwen and leaned over Liza. He grabbed her arm and closed his eyes. In a moment, a blissful feeling began to wrap itself around Liza’s mind.

  “Not too much,” Gwen warned.

  Liza felt her muscles relax, her mind calm, and the pain floated away. When the Tranq released her, she felt amazing, though she also had no energy available to make herself move.

  “Thanks,” she heard Gwen say, and the door to the room opened and closed once more. Gwen sat on Liza’s bed.

  “Tranquility can be used to temporarily make someone feel better,” Gwen explained. “It’s just a dangerous thing to do.”

  “Why?” Liza asked through her haze.

  “Because people can get addicted to it,” Gwen said. “Like Fultraline.”

  “The drug?” Liza asked through the thickening Tranquility haze.

  “Yes, the drug. People in chronic pain or who want to escape their problems will find someone with the Tranq ability and pay them to take it all away,” Gwen said. “Some Tranqs do it just for the easy money.”

  “How awful,” Liza said, but she knew she was being sarcastic. Gwen shook her head.

  “Go to sleep. They’re not going to be mad if you miss tonight’s Training session.” Liza opened her mouth to protest, but her mind slipped off into unconsciousness.

  When Liza returned to her sessions the following morning, she was feeling better, although she wasn’
t about to admit that Gwen was right about her slowing down and not hurting herself more. During the morning Train session, Liza continued to work with Gwen on not using her hands to direct her power.

  “I’m never going to get this,” Liza complained. Gwen shrugged.

  “Maybe, maybe not,” she said. Liza gave Gwen a flat stare, while Gwen returned it with a smile.

  “I already told you the reason why you never will be powerful,” someone said at Liza’s shoulder, and she cringed. Morre stepped around to stand in front of Liza. “Too much anger. Too much resistance.” Liza glared at him, but Morre wasn’t affected. He turned to Gwen and waved her away. Reluctantly, Gwen stepped back and gave Liza a look, trying to convey that she was sorry.

  “What do you want?” Liza asked him, crossing her arms. Morre reached out and tugged one of her dreadlocks. Liza bristled.

  “I can teach you to become powerful,” he said. “If only you would put your ego aside and let me.”

  “I don’t need anything from you,” Liza responded through her teeth. Morre grinned. For a moment, he stared into her eyes, and much to Liza’s annoyance, she couldn’t seem to look away.

  “You may think you have secrets here, Miss Strange. But let me assure you - you have nothing,” he said. He stared at her a moment longer, then turned and moved away from her. Liza stared after him, her heart hammering in her chest. When Gwen returned to Liza’s side, Liza looked up at her friend.

  “He knows something,” she whispered.

  During the midday meal, Liza spotted Cedrick. She marched over to him and grabbed the front of his uniform. Since they were similar heights, the attempt at intimidation didn’t work well.

  “What are you doing, Liza?” he asked her.

  “What did you tell Morre?” Liza asked. Cedrick shook his head.

  “I didn’t tell him anything. He’s not even an Augur,” Cedrick replied. He wrapped his hands around Liza’s and removed her fingers from the fabric of his uniform. Liza, more out of frustration and fear than anything else, released her power into him. She felt his mind bend, and he cringed against her power. His smell filled her nose as she pushed against his will. “I swear I didn’t tell him anything!” Liza released him and took a step back. Several other trainees were watching them. Without another word, Liza spun around and stormed away. She could see her own power jumping up and down her arms and crawling all around her body, and she knew that if she stayed in the mess hall, she’d accidentally blow it up. Her nose filled with too many scents, all clashing together, because she was pulling power away from others. She left, trying to hold back the energy that was trying to tear free from her skin.

  Liza wanted to believe that she was just angry, but deep down, she knew that wasn’t true. She was scared. It was fear that was squeezing at her heart, causing her to lash out. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead from the effort of holding back her power. She’d always dealt with overpowering emotions by lashing out, and she found that it was getting harder and harder to do that without breaking things or people. Liza ran, navigating through the halls until she reached the Training room. It was thankfully empty when she opened the door and skidded to a halt in the middle of the room. She took a deep breath and let go.

  Her power pushed away from her body and twisted into the empty space around her. Liza felt her own force pushing against her body. As the power that had built up inside of her spread through the room, her body began to relax. The awful feeling of her power trying to break through her skin was gone. Liza slumped to the ground, pulled her knees to her chest, and tried to control her heavy breathing.

  “Are you done throwing your tantrum?”

  Liza groaned against her knees. She lifted her head and saw Morre walking across the room, his hands clasped behind his back. “I do suppose I should be glad you have the sense to remove yourself from the other trainees,” he said, stopping in front of her. “If you had done this in the mess hall, you would have caused many injuries, and maybe even killed someone.”

  “Please go away,” Liza pleaded. She felt like her heart and mind were raw and bleeding and having him around was going to make her feel worse.

  “Nonsense,” he said. Morre grasped her hand and pulled her to her feet. “This is a perfect teaching moment. I told you that unrestricted emotions were going to cause you problems, and this is why. You build up too much excess power when you’re angry, because you draw on everything around you to support your anger and fear. Your innate ability is overwhelmed by the additional power you sap from others. And this happens,” he said, gesturing to the room. “You have to control yourself.”

  “Never had this problem,” Liza muttered, looking at her boots. Morre chuckled. He reached out and touched her cheek with a gloved hand.

  “Then the rumor that you are part of a Dyad is true,” he said. Liza’s eyes widened at his touch. She wanted to move, but she was afraid he’d attack her if she tried.

  “It’s true,” she admitted. Something Liza didn’t recognize flashed in Morre’s eyes. His hand slipped down her cheek to the side of her neck, causing Liza to go rigid. He moved closer to her, until his face was only a few inches from hers. She could feel his breath against her skin.

  The sound of the door opening broke whatever thought Morre hand, and he pulled away, a disgusted look passing over his face. Liza frowned and glanced at the door. Lieutenant Carte had stepped into the room.

  “Sir. Sorry to interrupt, but we have a call from the General,” Carte said, casting a suspicious glance at Liza. A frown deepening on her face. Morre nodded and walked away from Liza.

  “Of course,” he said. Liza watched him leave, and before Lieutenant Carte left, she met Liza’s eyes. Liza scowled at her. Carte lifted an eyebrow, turned, and walked out of the room.

  41

  Vely crouched against a wall, holding a small communicator against her chest while she waited. She’d gotten tired of waiting for Becce and Dom and was taking matters into her own hands. With the help of Weed and Speed, Vely followed Zimir around the Cove in secret, trying to find out more information. So far, all she’d been able to find out is that Zimir had many other friends among the crews on the Cove, and all of them were big, ugly brutes with very little brains.

  Vely listened to as much of his conversations as possible, but after overhearing him on the ship, nothing he talked about had anything to do with her or Liza. The situation was becoming more frustrating.

  “Have you found out anything yet?” Vely asked into the communicator.

  “Not yet,” one of the twins answered. She had them back on the ship, trying to find out who Zimir had been contacting that day he overheard her. “He most likely used-”

  “A line with heavy security.” Vely frowned.

  “Figures.”

  “Don’t give up yet,” they said together.

  “Thanks.”

  She tucked the device back into her pocket and moved closer to the room where Zimir had congregated with his pirate friends. She could hear them talking, but so far, Zimir hadn’t said much, and Vely was getting bored.

  “Have you heard about what the SSA has been working on?” one of the voices asked. Several people answered that they did not. “They’re trying to replicate Psychogen abilities using an implant, which gets attached to a person’s nervous system,” the voice said. “They can only do Kathokinesis and Tranquility, but I heard they made a breakthrough in creating artificial Bloodhounds.”

  Vely nearly lost her balance in surprise. She covered her mouth with her hands and edged a little closer.

  “I wonder if they could put the implant into someone with natural abilities and enhance their abilities,” someone commented.

  “They did try that.” This time, it was Zimir who spoke, his voice bored. “They put one in a Katho, and he went insane.” There were surprised murmurs in the group.

  “What about giving someone a different ability?”

  “That is more complicated, but they’re looking into it,” Z
imir answered. Vely’s eyes widened. In her mind, she imagined her sister with the power of a Katho and a Tranq. She’d be an unstoppable force. In the room, she heard chairs scraping and boots on the floor. Before Vely could move, she heard Zimir speak from just inside the door.

  “Let me know if you hear of any other Psychos popping up,” he commanded, and the others in the room grunted in acknowledgment. Vely pushed herself up onto her feet, but there was nowhere she could go. Before she could run, Zimir stepped into the hallway, his eyes immediately landing on Vely. A slow and wicked grin spread across his angular face.

  “Oh look. A little spy,” he said, stepping closer to her, forcing her back up against the wall.

  “I’m not-” she started to say, but Zimir removed a long knife from one of his pockets and held it up.

  “Shut up,” he commanded. “I’ve been wanting to catch you for a while.” One of his gloved hands whipped up and grabbed Vely around the neck, pressing her against the wall and forcing her chin up into the air. He pressed the tip of his knife against her collarbone. A stab of pain shot through her, and she winced. A bead of blood pooled on her skin and dripped down towards her breasts.

  Zimir leaned forward and took a long sniff of her blood. It was disturbingly sensual, and Vely froze in horror.

  “I knew it,” he said, lifting his face back to hers. “You are a Tranq. It is unfortunate that I did not know that when I sold your sister. I would have gotten much more money for the pair.” Vely growled, his hand still around her neck. “But I’m sure I can negotiate something, once I inform the SSA I have found the other.”

  Vely wiggled her glove off her hand until it fell to the floor. With anger, she threw her arm up and pressed her hand against his face and unleashed her ability. A blue mist surrounded him, and his eyes glazed over. The grip on her neck loosened just enough for Vely to kick him away from her. Zimir stumbled back, a blank expression on his face.