The Fire In My Eyes (18 page)

“Psionic?” I asked. “Telekinesis, telepathy, that sort of thing? That's what this is?”

“Yes,” Ripley confirmed. “Psionics. You're familiar with the concept?”

“I've read enough fantasy and sci-fi,” I said. My hands were trembling. I wanted to laugh, but it fit. It all fit. “I've heard of psi and magic and all of those powers. You're telling me that it exists? It's hard to believe, even though I've seen it. And done it. And seen it done. It's all real?”

“He's taking it rather well,” Shade observed.

“It's very real, Kevin,” Ripley said.

“The Establishment for Psionic Order. You said you were trying to save the world. What do you mean?” That name could be taken so many ways. Were they trying to establish psionic order, enforce it, protect it?

Shade laughed and leaned back in his chair. Ripley leaned forward on the desk and looked directly at me. “The Establishment was formed to defend both normal people and psions. We protect the normal world from psions gone amok, from organizations trying to exploit them. We also protect psions and psionic powers from being revealed.”

“Why keep it so secretive?” I asked.

“They'd kill us,” Shade said. “People fear those who are more powerful than they are. The weaker they are, the more terrified they'll be. Doesn't matter if we're trying to help them.”

“So you're not looking to take control?” I asked. “Not trying to form a new world order or anything like that?”

Ripley threw his head back and laughed. Shade shook his head. “I told you he'd think that way. Just like everyone else who hears that name.”

The old man wiped at his eyes. “Of course not, Kevin. Of course not.”

I sat back in my chair. Both of their reactions seemed all too smooth, almost rehearsed. I'd play along for now. If they were lying, I'd find out eventually. For now, I wanted to find out more about what I could do with psionics. “All right. So what's expected of me? What sort of training are we talking about?”

Ripley nodded at Shade. “Your trainer is responsible for your method and style of training. We've already discussed what direction his training will take, correct?” Shade nodded back and Ripley continued. “The initial training will be basic, but accelerated to catch you up with your peers. You need to learn of your psionic power, both how to manifest it, and how to do so without exhausting yourself. From there, you'll learn to control and focus your power in various situations, and we’ll teach the basic skills from the three main branches of telekinesis, telepathy, and metasensory powers. Once we've determined where your aptitudes lie, we'll begin more focused training.”

Shade broke in. “What he's not telling you is that I'm going to break you. I'm going to run you into the dirt and exhaust you. You're going to pray for death and I'm going to laugh in your face. And once you're strong enough to deal with what I throw at you, once you pick yourself up and dust yourself off, I'll come back twice as hard.”

I stared at him, then deliberately looked back at Ripley. “So what sort of advanced training could I expect to get into down the line?”

“We'll discuss that at the appropriate time.” Ripley looked amused. “What sort of training schedule do you have in mind, Shade?”

“Evenings,” he said flatly. “All of them.”

“All of them?” I asked.

“All of them.”

Ripley shook his head. “I did say accelerated, but he does require time to rest.”

Shade's eyes flickered, the green light reflecting oddly from his sunglasses. I looked over at him, then back at Ripley as an answering flicker shone from his eyes. Shade sighed. “Five days a week. Under protest.”

“Duly noted,” Ripley said. “When do you want to start?”

“Well, I was hoping for one good night of sleep before getting into anything,” I said.

“I'm sorry, I was speaking to Shade,” he said.

Shade looked over at me and grinned. “We start tonight,” he said and stood up.

I groaned. Walked right into that. I couldn't admit any sort of weakness in front of this guy. Of course, if I hadn't antagonized him, I might not be paying for it now. His obvious dislike for me had only grown since Long Island. Maybe Ripley was putting him in charge of my training as a conciliatory gesture toward his opposition.

“Kevin. This is for you.” Ripley slid a thumb drive across the desk to me. “Install the software then destroy the drive. Under no circumstances should you use it while anyone unauthorized is around to observe you. In other words, only while you are alone, or with Shade.”

I picked up the drive and dropped it into my backpack. “I don't have my own computer at the moment. You don't want me installing it on my roommate's computer, right?”

“No computer of your own?” Ripley frowned. “Computer access is required for many courses here. You should have your own computer. Didn't you have one at home?”

“I left it there,” I said. I didn't want my old gaming rig here at school, tempting me to fall back into my old patterns. “I can ask about getting it brought up here if I really need it.”

“Don't bother,” Ripley said. “I will see to the matter personally. If nothing else, a school-issued laptop can be lent to you on a temporary basis.”

“Come on, we're wasting training time,” Shade said. He stood right at my shoulder as I stood up, crowding my personal space. I turned away from him as I picked my backpack up and stepped away from the chair. The bastard was going to try to intimidate me to let me know just who was in charge.

Ripley's voice stopped me just as I pulled the double doors open. “Kevin. I'm expecting great things from you.”

I smiled as I walked out. Of course, the old man was building me up now. He was getting what he wanted. He could afford to be generous and kind. It worked, even though I knew why he was acting that way. Shade stepped into me as we walked past the secretary, knocking me off balance. “Don't be too confident yet,” he said.

I regained my balance and considered a foot stomp, then thought better of it. Ripley was going to build me up and Shade was going to tear me down. He was just looking for an excuse to make Ripley look bad. Considering that making Ripley look bad might also be bad for my continued health, I settled for just talking back. “You don't like me.”

“I'm not here to be your friend, Parker. I'm here to train you and make sure you don't throw any more people into walls in the process,” he replied.

We walked down the hall and into the elevator. I reached for the ground floor button, but he moved faster and punched the button for the top floor. “Is that why you don't like me? Because of that accident?” I asked.

His hand flicked upwards and I slammed into the side of the elevator, hard enough to see stars. My feet dangled a few inches above the floor. “You have concerns about being liked, Parker,” he said quietly. “I don't like your attitude, your ingratitude. I don't like your cavalier bullshit. I don't think you deserve special treatment, no matter what potential you may have. No, Parker. I don't like you.”

I struggled against his power, unable to break free, barely able to breath. The elevator slowed as we reached the top floor. When the doors hissed open, his grip vanished, dropping me to the floor. I staggered out behind him and followed him down the hallway. “Why are you training me, then?” I asked when I felt that I could get a full breath out again.

“Alistair thinks I'm the best man for the job. Under my protest, of course. Which he dismissed as quickly as my protest today. I am stuck with you. And yes, before you say it, you're stuck with me as well.” He stopped before an unmarked door and pulled it open. A short stairwell led up to the roof of the building. “Come on.”

“I'm not sure I like going up on roofs,” I said.

He looked over his shoulder and grinned, showing all his teeth. “I know. Come on.”

The skyline of Troy was only moderately impressive, even when lit up by the sunset. I knew that it did look more impressive from other vantage points, but right now, I just couldn't find any sort of beauty in the view. Probably due to the company. Shade flexed his arms out in front of him and his joints popped one after the other. “Stretch. You're in shitty physical condition. You'll need to work on that too.”

I put my backpack down by the door and started to mimic his movement. My joints and muscles protested. “I thought psionic power came from the mind, not the body.”

He snorted. “It does, but your mind and body haven't figured that out yet. That's part of your basic training. You felt it when you flung the girl, and when you blocked that kick. Neither of those were physically demanding actions. Why do you think you were so exhausted afterwards, then?”

He was right. I had been tired after what happened with Nikki, and absolutely exhausted after shielding myself on Max's rooftop. Going back even further, pushing Drew out of the way and jumping over the car had tired me out as well. “It's not based on doing something physical, because the shield I used at Max's tired me out too. The connection I see is that I was doing something with psionics. That much is obvious.”

He continued to stretch, moving into more elaborate stretches and exercises. “At least you're not completely oblivious. You were manifesting your power, taking an action with your mind instead of with your body. Which one of those tired you out the most?”

“The shield. That was just with my mind. Do you mean that my body thinks that using these powers is actually, well, doing something?” I pulled my jacket off. Though it was still chilly, especially in the evening, I was sure that I would be sweating soon.

“Close enough,” Shade said. He rolled his shoulders and faced me. Green light was visible behind his sunglasses. “Basic biology. You eat, your body turns food into energy. When you use psionic powers, you burn energy that you don't need to. Your body overcompensates. How strong would you need to be to push someone a few feet away? Not very strong. Wouldn't take a lot of energy. Even a scrawny kid like you could push me over if I wasn't paying attention. But what if you pushed me hard enough to send me flying off the edge of the roof here?” He gestured behind him.

I shrugged. “A hell of a lot stronger than I actually am.”

“And that's exactly what your mind and body think. Putting up that shield? Nothing in your experience has prepared your body for that sort of thing. So what happens? Your body burns the amount of energy it thinks it needs. It's a feedback loop.” Shade shrugged and lifted a hand again. I saw my backpack lift into the air, then do a couple of flips. “Once you start to understand psionic power and use it regularly, your body will figure out that it isn't actually using that much energy. How many calories do you think you'd burn, picking up your backpack and flipping it around like this?”

“Not too many,” I said.

“It takes less to do it this way,” he said. “I'm simply manipulating it with my mind. I don't need to exert any muscle energy or even think about it too much. The more natural it becomes, the less tiring it gets. Of course, that doesn't mean you can keep it up forever. Now, how about this?” He pointed across the roof at a large concrete block. “We keep that up here for training. Go pick it up and tell me how much it weighs.”

I walked over and pushed it with my foot, then reached down and picked it up. It was heavy, not overwhelmingly so, but I had to strain to lift it. “Maybe forty pounds? Fifty?”

“About fifty. A lot heavier than your backpack. Put it down.” I put it down and stepped away. The block stirred, then lifted into the air. “It doesn't take a lot more effort for me to lift it this way than it does to lift a backpack. If I lifted you, it wouldn't be a whole lot harder either, and I figure you weigh close to four times that block. Why do you think that is?”

“Because you're not physically doing anything? Everything still has weight and mass. I'm not much for physics, but it still takes a certain amount of force to lift something against the pull of gravity, right?” I walked back over to Shade and shook my arms. I was more out of shape than I thought I was. Too much sitting around lately.

“Tell me, Parker,” Shade said. “How much energy does it take to think?”

“I don't know. I'm no biology major.”

“Is it more or less than the energy you'd use to walk across the roof and pick that up?” he pressed.

“Less.”

“That applies to anything you do with telekinesis,” he said. “You're thinking it, not physically doing it. Understand?”

“I think so. But doesn't that mean that effectively, I could move anything? Like, say, the moon?” I pointed to the horizon.

He laughed. “I'd love to see you try. You'd drop like a rock.”

“Why?”

“First of all, telekinesis isn't perfectly efficient. Even trained psions still struggle with this. It's something that only comes with experience and practice. You can know perfectly well intellectually that you could, in fact, move the moon if you wanted to.” He pointed up at the sky. “That doesn't mean it has no mass, no weight. I can't comprehend how much force you'd need to push the moon. Can you?”

“Not even close,” I admitted.

“Second of all, you have to be sensible regarding how far away you reach. Do you really think that an untrained kid like you can reach that far away with your mind? Hundreds of thousands of miles?” He pointed toward the horizon. “Even I can't use telekinesis at distances of more than a few hundred feet, maybe a quarter mile if I really strained.”

I assumed that he was a bit above average in that aspect. Ripley had said he was one of their top people. “That makes sense. So, how did you shoot those beams of light at that guy? And how did you move so fast when you were fighting? And what about the shields?”

He shook his head. “Advanced topics, but they all stem from this basic concept. Your mind is more efficient than your muscles. The more you use it, the more efficient it gets, and the stronger you get. Just like working out at the gym. Enough talk. Let's get to work.”

“I have another question before we start,” I said.

Shade sighed and sat down on the concrete block. “Make it quick.”

“Ripley mentioned something about telepathy. Does that exist too?” I asked.

He nodded. “Of course. Telekinesis, telepathy, metasensory. Those are the three general schools of psionic abilities. You'll learn about all of them, but not tonight. Don't ask.”