by Kevin Rau
Monstrous eyes loomed over me in the darkness. Slit down the center like cat eyes, they were green with slight amber and black streaks from the outer edges in toward the center. They filled my entire vision, and I awoke with a start.
My heart pounded as I jerked up into a sitting position. I didn't make it far, as my head slammed into Rael's face. He had been leaning directly over me. From nightmare to reality, the eyes of the dream manifested themselves on his face. As unusual as they were, they were far more frightening in the blackness of sleep than where they belonged on him. I put my hand on his cheek, as my head fell back onto the pillow.
He leaned back to sit next to me, as I rubbed my forehead. The mild pain already faded, my new regenerative abilities worked fast. He sat on top of the sheets, showing off his lithe, muscled torso. I said, “You know, if I wanted to be stared at in my sleep like that, I'd get a kitty.”
He chuckled, with an almost sinister tone. He held up his hands, growled and stared at them, and the last segment of each finger grew and hardened into a two inch long blackish claw.
He wiggled his fingers at me as he said, “But you already have a big kitty … me.” He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and his demon claws shifted back into his normal fingertips. He rubbed his fingers together when done.
He sat on top of the covers. Why wasn't he in bed? We didn't have to relieve ourselves anymore, so there weren't many reasons to get up in the middle of night.
I asked, “Were you trying to wake me?”
“Yeah. I thought I'd try something different. The last two times I woke you up I mentally shouted your name while touching my head to yours. This time I thought I'd try a visual. Obviously it worked, but this time your heart rate shot up when you woke up as well.”
“Duh. I'd rather not have giant cat eyes in the darkness chasing me, thank you. Please shout my name or something next time.” I sat up on my elbows. “So, why did you wake me up, I need my beauty sleep.”
“No you don't. Other than slightly tousled hair, I don't believe you need any help along those lines at all. Besides, you’re a heavy sleeper; I’d have to practically hit you to wake you up.”
At least he's telling the truth. My new telepathy was always on. Right now, it showed me a visual of what he looked at, and both the visual and words of what he was thinking at the time. It looked much like a giant television screen to me, but unfortunately blocked much of my own vision. His visual amounted to me at the moment, so instead of me staring at him in the dark, a good portion of my vision stared at myself. I heard my heart beating rapidly through his mindview, the visual, audio and other sensory link I currently had into his mind. He saw me in the dark room as clearly as if it were daylight, a benefit of his cat eyes, I supposed. At that moment, they were rounded at the iris though, probably due to the lack of light in the room.
My pure gold hair was tousled from sleep; I looked into my own amethyst eyes. They still looked odd to me, compared to the old hazel iris color. My skin was tan. I wondered how long the tan would last, or if my new regeneration would eliminate that. I had a small nose and ears.
He smelled my pheromone enhanced fragrance acutely. My natural odor now affected most people greatly when they were close enough to touch me. If their face touched my hair or neck, it seemed like everyone wanted to kiss me to get more. For someone like Rael, who had an enhanced sense of smell I was almost a drug.
We mutated from normal humans to supers only two nights ago. Both nights he maneuvered to keep me with him overnight just to keep my body against him, and my hair under his nose. I was only now finding out how much he really cared for me, though we’d been the best of friends for most of our lives.
I motioned with my hand to shift the large image out of the way so I could look better at him. Fortunately, they were movable within my visual space. The problem was that I couldn't remove them entirely when people were near me.
He smirked at my motion. When I raised an eyebrow he said, “What was that gesture about?”
I asked, “What gesture?”
“You just moved your hand like this.” He mimicked my hand swipe. I hadn’t even noticed I made the motion with my hand.
“Oh, just moving your mindview. It was in the way, I couldn’t see well.”
His eyebrows rose up. “So that’s what you’ve been doing these last few days. I’ve been trying to figure out your odd gestures since you changed.”
I rolled my eyes and shrugged. “I can’t help it. It’s probably a mental thing, trying to move things with my hands, even if they are just in my head.”
I looked him over. His black hair was slightly unkempt from sleep; it hung down just past his shoulders. He had gained additional muscle during the change from human to super. He was now well built, but not like a body builder. His frame was lithe. His cat eyes gave him a slightly sinister look in bright light when they weren’t rounded. His mouth was closed, so I couldn't see his fang-like canines. His new alias, Black Tiger, fit him well.
I asked, “So other than wanting me to see you looking all sexy and shirtless, was there a reason you woke me up?”
He replied, “Oh, yeah - your H.E.R.O. phone rang. You didn't wake up, so I went to look at it.”
“I'm not marked 'on duty' right now, why would the phone ring?”
“There's an F.B.I. call specifically for you. A kidnapping, about one hundred miles from here.”
“Oh, jeez. I did tell Agent Carson that they could call me for those. I didn’t think they’d call so soon on one, though.”
“Are you going to go?”
“Of course. Having a loved one kidnapped would be horrible. They wouldn't call if it wasn't important. A note should be in the system to only call if they've apprehended someone that might have information on the kidnapping, so it shouldn’t take long. What time is it?”
“2:10 a.m. You've got classes in the morning too.”
“I know. I'll just have to deal with that.”
“You want me to go with you?”
“No, get your sleep. You got clawed up far worse than I did yesterday.”
“Yeah, but you got knocked out, I didn't. Plus, I healed all that damage shortly after taking it.”
I kissed him quickly, and then slid out the far side of the bed. “Thank you for waking me up.” I watched through his eyes as he watched me closely as I walked out of the room. That made me think for a moment, I could still see his mindview when I was in the bathroom. He had to be twenty or more feet from me. My powers were new, but it seemed like my range was usually about fifteen feet. He was still thinking about me. Interesting, I’d never seen a video of myself sleeping before, but he was replaying his memory of watching me a few minutes ago. At least I hadn’t been drooling.
I picked up my new H.E.R.O cell phone; the task was on the main screen. All agents of the Homeland Extraordinary Response Organization had a smartphone with applications to aid in response to emergencies. In this case the message was brief, though I noticed it was a private event directly to me. Most events were posted for all H.E.R.O. agents, so any available could respond. It wasn't a standard nine to five job for any heroes that I was aware of, though I was very new at it.
The event listed a kidnapping, the location, and a phone number to call. I called it.
A man's voice answered, “Agent Willman.”
“Hi, this is Psystar. You put in a request for me in a kidnapping case?”
“I did. We're hoping to move quickly on this situation.”
“You've already got one of the perps in custody? I'm a telepath; I need to be right by them to read their mind.”
“We've got one boxed in. We're working on capturing him without shooting him or using knockout gas now.”
Does no one ever read instructions? I specifically only agreed to do these if they had someone on hand. Well, I already called him; I can’t exactly not go now. “Okay, I'll fly to you then, hopefully your
men can get him by the time I get there.”
“We sent the location, you have it?”
“Yeah. It's about a hundred miles away; I'll be there in about fifteen minutes.”
“Very nice. Wait ... fifteen minutes? How are you getting here?”
“I’m flying in.”
“You have a chopper on hand?”
“No, I fly myself.”
“Oh, we'll see you soon then.”
“Okay … bye.” I hung up. I grabbed my costume and put on the pieces. The entire costume was pure white, and made of a very thin, expanding material that reminded me of spandex. It fit me like a glove, or tighter, actually. The bottoms were short shorts, much like low cut biking shorts. The form fitting top went from the top of the shorts to cover most of my bust, and ran down my sides to hit the lower back. The front had three wide ovals cut out; the lowest centered on my belly button, the top just touched the bottom of my bust. The boots were mid-calf in height with a low heel, and the gloves mid-forearm. I had a mask that covered part of my face; it somehow clung to the skin without needing a band around my head. Last was a gold belt, the same color as my wavy golden hair. The costume was revealing, but I could hide it under a lot of different clothes. For that reason, I had forgone a full top or pants. Well, that and my pheromones, which worked better with less material. I wanted to be able to wear skirts and halter tops over the costume, though, so I was pleased with it.
I ran a brush through my hair a few times. I looked at my amethyst eyes in the mirror, and 'heard' Rael's thoughts as he programmed in the address into his phone in case he needed it. I stopped back by his bedroom. “This will probably take an hour or two, don't wait up, okay?”
“I'd rather go with you, though I'm guessing they would be irritated by a tagalong.”
“I’d think so, besides, you’re a bit on the dark side. People like this will need reassurance, not a good scaring. Wish me luck.” His thoughts came to me as if he spoke them aloud; he momentarily regretted choosing an all-black costume.
I double checked that I had the H.E.R.O. cell phone, my H.E.R.O. ID card and left Rael and Lance's house. I verified the direction I needed to fly via the cell phone's display, then stepped up on an imaginary stair step and pushed off. I floated up into the air, then jabbed my knee up and my body blasted up into the air as if shot out of a gun. I angled my upper body to lead my direction, and focused on pouring on the speed. It required me to mentally hype myself up, but when I finally felt the shiver down my spine, my speed cranked up past Mach 1. I angled my flight slightly upward and toward the location on my phone. It was a cloudy night; a storm might be coming into the region soon.
Being in the air was pleasantly quiet from multiple perspectives. Apart from being beyond Mach 1, and not hearing much of anything via my ears, I was too far from anyone to pick up the 'sound' of their thoughts, as well as being far from any mindviews. Those normally only appeared when people were within perhaps fifteen feet of me, while I could hear the ‘sound’ of thoughts from more like thirty feet.
It still amazed me, being able to fly. Just a few days ago I was a normal person, albeit one with a father who was a super. Now I could fly, read minds, give off a mind controlling pheromone, and was quite strong. At least I was compared to normal people. Rael could lift cars, and Lance found out he could lift half of a train locomotive. That's several hundred thousand pounds even when lifting the back end alone. I was tiny compared to Lance, though. He was 6'8” tall after the change, versus my 5’3”, and his upper arms were as big around as my abdomen. Still, I was happy that I could lift hundreds of pounds without strain. I need to test my limit soonish.
The air felt cool as it blew past me. My hair blew back in the wind, but something about the aura surrounding me kept it to a pleasant level. Otherwise, I’d imagine that my hair would have whipped back practically in a straight line. That aura also allowed me to carry others while lightly holding them instead of brute force lifting them as I would on the ground. Last, it meant that clothing didn’t rip apart. That was a bonus when I wasn’t just in my costume. Even miles in the air, the cold didn’t bother me. I’d been told that the same oddities that made supers heal faster, not sweat or excrete waste, and otherwise have these wonderful powers made us less affected by heat and cold. Something internal to our bodies regulated things better. I wondered if it made us significantly less or more than normal Homo sapiens though.
I looked at the cell phone device to watch the coordinates. It was a really cool device the Homeland Extraordinary Response Organization, aka H.E.R.O., offered its operatives. In effect it was a smartphone with some complex apps for posting trouble situations for superheroes to help with, mark that we accepted one, completed one, needed medical or paddy wagon type assistance, etc. It also had GPS software, internet connectivity, mapping software, and worked as a secure cell phone. I hadn't tried texting from it yet.
I didn't have anyone other than Lance and Rael that I really wanted to know I was also the superheroine named Psystar, so I planned on keeping my normal cell phone as well. Everyone else knew me as Stephanie Quinn. Everyone except two professors at Metrocity University, that is. Possibly more soon, since I'd agreed to let Professor Gently start up a special study group to test my blood, DNA and such as long as I was in the group getting credit as well. My degree was in genetics, and I was a junior at Metrocity University. I was pretty excited about being able to do some real testing on a super, even if I were that super. I had some trepidation about being years behind the other students in that group, though. It sounded like most would be in their Doctorate program, and here I was without even my Bachelors yet.
I was pretty sure that Rael would quit his daytime carpentry job, although Lance might keep his bouncing job at Score! He liked the place a lot. He was also such an amicable guy that he stopped as many fights with gentle talk as muscle.
There was no way that I wouldn't complete my degree, though. I knew that some people would try to write me off as a ditz for having golden hair and a tight, skimpy costume. I wanted a solid degree backing me up. There was also something to be said for being a role model for people, even if I didn't work in my degree field.
Apart from the heavy cloud cover, the flight was pleasant. When I have more time I’ll have to fly through some clouds to feel what it’s like. Flight didn’t feel taxing to my system, and the actual angle I flew at didn’t appear to impact comfort at all. I knew that flying at a downward angle, while over Mach 1 could potentially be dangerous though. I had no desire to cause some kind of shockwave that destroyed windows and otherwise damaged property or people.
I spotted suburbs in the distance. It didn’t take long at Mach 1 to close on them. I watched on the H.E.R.O. phone's map as I approached. When my distance was minimal, I swung my shoulders back and pushed my left foot forward as though to take a step. My speed dropped hundreds of miles per hour in a few seconds. Fortunately, my flight power somehow kept me from having problems with g-force or whatever else might cause problems by doing that. I suppose I'll have to read up on some of that, or people are going to ask me about how flight works and I'll be clueless.
I closed in on the location at a more reasonable hundred miles per hour or so, and aimed at the front yard. It was a suburban area, with large homes and wide streets. Many had pools in the back yard.
It was obvious which house it was, for several extra vehicles were parked outside on an otherwise sparse street. They must have been detectives or F.B.I. agents, the vehicles weren’t marked other than having government license plates.
I’d discovered that when I made a stepping down motion, as though onto a lower stair step, my speed slowed down and I floated downward. I hadn’t decided yet if this flight power required any of these physical motions I used, or if my mind simply needed them as a crutch to take everyday actions and apply them to something unnatural … like flying.
I floated down
to the sidewalk, making the stepping-down motion with my feet a few times, to slow my descent. I lightly bumped onto the ground, and walked up to the front door.
I heard the thoughts of people nearby. There had to be four or five people inside, based on the mental chatter. I'll have to practice so I can figure out the number of people by mental voices alone. By the time I reached the door four mindviews appeared. I had a good look at the three men and one woman in the room from each of their viewpoints.
I knocked on the door, and then watched the four mindviews look at each other. One of the men motioned to the others to sit and said he would answer the door. I saw him place one hand on a gun at his side, and then he glanced out the peephole. He opened the door, and held his hand out toward me.
“Hello, I'm Agent Dunsworth of the F.B.I.” I chuckled and shook his hand.
Agent Willman was the one I spoke with earlier. I wondered why it was so easy to pick people's names out of their mindviews. It must be kept in some easy-to-access place in memory, that I can just scoop the information from. Or I'm just that good, hah!
I shook his hand, and said, “Nice to meet you, Agent Dunsworth. I'm Psystar. Agent Willman was the one I spoke with earlier, ah, hello.” I waved at him across the room.
The two F.B.I. Agents were skeptical of bringing in a super to help with this, so I thought showing I knew things that weren't said yet might be helpful.
Agent Dunsworth asked, “Is something humorous?”
I looked back at him, “I laughed at your smooth transition from having your hand on your gun, to shaking my hand. You're quite good at it.”
He made a “hmph” sound and walked back into the room. I closed the door behind me, walked over to Agent Willman and shook his hand. “Nice to meet you in person, Agent Willman.”
The father, Chase Lieberman thought that I looked far too young to be helpful here; he didn't want a cheerleader delaying the saving of his daughter. Agent Willman mentally sized me up as we shook hands. He thought I belonged in a modeling shoot rather than in the midst of a kidnapping case.
Agent Willman said, “You as well, I hope. You're much younger than I would have expected.”
“I could be much older than I look, sir. Supers visibly age slowly. But ... you are correct. I am young. What I do have are abilities that can help. Such as knowing that Mr. Lieberman thinks of me as a cheerleader.”
I looked at Mr. Lieberman. “Mr. Lieberman, I wear a revealing costume to distract villains, and to fit it under normal clothing in case of emergencies.” Don't think I need to admit that I like workout clothes like this right now…. Well, or the pheromones, for that matter.
I asked him, “When was the last time you saw your daughter? What was she wearing?”
I watched his mindview, as he thought of this morning as she grabbed a bagel and orange juice, kissed him on the cheek while he skimmed the paper, and ran to the door. He said, “I saw her this morning.”
Her mother, Aimee, interrupted, “I have a picture here.”
I held up my hand, “Thank you, ma'am, I won't need it. Your husband has a more current memory of her from this morning, wearing her orange short jacket and black skirt. I've got a very good visual of her now.” I tapped my temple as I said that.
Mr. Lieberman said, “You ... you read my mind?”
I looked off to the side as I thought for a moment, and said, “I ... yeah, pretty much. It's why I'm here, to read the mind of the kidnapper you ought to have in custody, and find out where they are holding your daughter. Speaking of ... what's the status on capturing him, Agent Willman?”
He said, “We ought to have him here soon.” He actually thought that his men had the man trapped, but couldn't get to him because the man shot at the agents.
I sighed. “It doesn't help to lie to a telepath, Agent Willman. What's the address they have him trapped at? I'll go help; I can take being shot if I need to.” Not that I want to get shot, but a few minutes of pain will be worth getting their daughter back sooner.
He stared at me for a moment. He thought of the location and debated on telling me.
I said, “Thank you, call your men and tell them I'm coming to get this guy out. Zena doesn’t deserve being in some creep’s custody any longer than she has to.”
I was cranky from being woken in the middle of night, and just didn't feel like putting up with people who wanted to do things slowly, or lie about not doing them. I didn’t understand why they wouldn’t want to do everything to get Zena back as soon as humanly possible.
I walked to the door, opened it and said, “I'll be back soon.” Out on the lawn, I tapped in the address on my phone to get a distance and direction.
Agent Dunsworth walked out to me. “What the hell? You're going to just go over there and try to capture him yourself?”
I glanced up at him. “Pretty much. Why?”
“How do you plan on capturing him? You don't even have a gun.”
“I thought I'd bust in and rush him to take his gun away. Once I do, I'm pretty sure he'll be a pushover.”
“Jumping into another agency's investigation, and trying to just take over won't win you any friends, you know.”
I rolled my eyes and sighed. “You called me, Agent Dunsworth, and a note is in my file to not call unless someone has already been captured to mind read. Your team already failed to follow directions, and at this point it may take who knows how long to get the guy out. That assumes he doesn't shoot himself in the head, or something. I'm tired, and I want to get their daughter, Zena, back as soon as possible. So I'm not taking anything over, I'm just expediting, okay? It's your bust, I just want a girl home safe, and to go get some sleep. I have a horrible day to look forward to tomorrow, err, today.”
“Why is that, can you see the future too?”
“No. Power apparently comes with a price. Mine is having problems around large groups ... like at college. I can't even sit in classrooms anymore.”
“What? Wait, are you a new super?”
“Yes I am; why do you ask?” He immediately worried about my chances of finding out what they needed to know. I waited for him to put the question into words. I felt pretty sure I’d already pushed their limits.
“Are you sure you can find out the information we need?” He looked skeptical.
“I've done this several times already. I can go in and pull out memories that I want. It's stressful at times, and makes me hungry, but it helped my team save over a dozen people yesterday. I need to go help with this guy, I'll be back soon.”
I stepped on my imaginary air step and pushed, which caused me to begin floating upward. I consulted the cell phone's mapping software, and then jabbed my knee up and shot into the air. Leaves rustled in the yard from the small vacuum I created. I flew over the suburbs to an office complex; apparently, they had the kidnapper trapped in a four-story office building. The area outside had a group of police and F.B.I. vehicles in the street. I flew down and landed just inside the tape barrier the police had strung up.
Costumes must make a difference, the officers watching the tape borders didn't even ask me who I was or challenge me. I walked to the cluster of men standing next to some kind of F.B.I. command van. There were six men standing together. I noticed that almost none of the mindviews looked at my face. They almost completely covered my normal vision; that was an annoyance.
I said, “Hi guys. Which room is the perp in?”
I watched their mindviews, as they wondered who I was, why I was there and who called in a super, until I found the tactical leader. He flashed a memory of the building map, and the route his men would take. The man had taken refuge on the third floor in a room at the end of a hallway. The room had a door with a window, which helped provide him cover to shoot at the agents attempting to get to him. Since they were under strict orders not to injure or knock out the man, it had eliminated most of their tactics.
Several
of them began speaking at once. I debated just flying up there, but even as grouchy as I felt, my better judgment told me to at least speak with them first.
One of the F.B.I. Agents spoke over the rest, “Who are you and why are you here?”
I answered, “I’m Psystar. I was called in to interrogate the man you were supposed to have captured already.” Okay, I couldn’t help but rub that in a little.
That line visibly irritated several of them. Yeah, well, welcome to the party. One of the tactical men thought in no uncertain terms that as a young woman, costume or not, I didn’t belong there. Another thought that I would screw up their tactical operation. That kind of thinking doesn’t help a person in a grumpy mood, you jerks.
The tactical leader said, “We’ve got the man boxed in. If you are here for the interrogation, we’ll notify you once he’s been apprehended.”
An F.B.I. agent jumped in, “Wait, she’s a super; it might work best to have her go in.”
The tactical leader replied, “I’ve already got men in there. We’ll handle this, without her getting my men injured.”
I said, “No. You’ve delayed long enough. I’ll go in myself, where is he located?” Not like I didn’t already know, but they might feel better sharing….
He replied, “You haven’t been briefed with my men, we’ll handle the extraction.”
“Bruce, is it? You’ve had at least twenty minutes to do that already. If you guys want to be difficult, then fine. Call your men and tell them not to shoot me. I’m flying in through the window and getting this guy now. Stop worrying about whose sandbox we’re playing in, and just help get the guy, okay?” I know I’m being cranky, but I just can’t shake being annoyed at these guys for waking me up when they damn well know to have the suspect before calling me. They are far too interested in who gets the credit for capturing this guy as well. Why does credit matter?
I step-pushed several times to take flight quickly. Then I flew alongside the third floor until I heard the mass of mental speech that went with the officers or agents down the hallway from the man. That allowed me to locate the room with the perpetrator easily enough, and I kicked up some speed to fly around the building to a window on the far side.
This will be easy enough. Fly in fast … but not too fast, smash through the window, quick slow down, then grab the guy’s gun and manhandle him to the ground. Call in the tactical boys to tie him up and we’re good to go.
I aimed for a window in the far room, put my right arm and shoulder forward to take the blow, and slammed into the window. The glass didn’t give as easily as I expected it to, and slowed me down a lot. The impact alone really hurt, and shards of glass cut into my face and shoulder as I burst through the window. Glass fragments exploded into the room. Ow! Real glass is a lot harder than it looks in the movies.
A mindview appeared, and a spray of bullets struck me in my right arm, right shoulder, breast, and along my abdomen. That hurt … a lot. I cried out from the pain and surprise of being shot multiple times so quickly. So much for easy….
I spun my left foot forward to slow down and flew into the man. I aimed for his right hand, but missed and grabbed his right shoulder with my left hand. He let loose another burst from his submachine pistol directly into my abdomen. I grunted as the bullets tore into my stomach and bent me over. The pain was intense.
My momentum forced him backwards, he screamed something, and I grabbed for his gun hand. I forced his arm down, but couldn’t get a hold of his arm. He squeezed the trigger one more time, causing several bullets to spray into my left thigh before I finally had his right wrist in hand. I cried out as my body was wracked with pain.
I slammed his hand with the gun into the wall, hard. Another burst of bullets sprayed out as his hand struck the drywall, ricocheting off the walls and ceiling. The bones in his hand and wrist shattered from the impact with the wall and the man screamed in pain. He punched me in the jaw with his good hand. I was still airborne; the punch caused me to float backwards slowly. Large black spots clouded my vision.
Pain from all the bullet wounds kept me doubled over in the air. I coughed up blood. I needed to get him out of the fight, but it was so hard to focus. Another burst rang out from the gun, and I spun about from another hit to my right arm while floating. I slowly spun in the air as I coughed out blood from the chest wounds.
The pain was extreme, and I wished Rael were there.
My vision went dark, and the last thing I saw were several mindviews appear, and then disappear as I lost consciousness.
Preview Chapter 2 – Brash Youth
Stephanie’s Viewpoint