Exposure

The days leading up to my first day teaching psionics were a blur of activity. It might have been more manageable if it had been my only focus, but my attention was divided. Nerin and my chaperones’ feedback on the psionic tools needed consideration, and I needed to keep an eye on the progress locating Nora’s group of abductees.

Nai’s trip to the Organic Authority had revealed far more accesses to my medical data than expected. I’d imagined there would be maybe a few dozen requests to see my data, mostly from other Organic Authority facilities. But in the message Director Hom-Heg sent us, more than a thousand separate groups and organizations had requested my medical data.

Even with the Director assuring me my personal details were redacted, it felt like a violation of privacy.

But starting psionic lessons did not simplify things. Tiv was right, there were more obstacles than I thought.

The current problem was that, while non-Adepts could utilize psionics, they couldn’t create their own. They had to be given by someone else.

A nice workaround was that they didn’t necessarily need to be given by an Adept. They could be shared secondhand. On Archo, Tasser and Nemuleki had distributed theirs spare psionics and found an Adept capable of learning how to produce more in the process.

Still, between me, Nai, Tiv, and whoever Tasser was teamed up with, the number of Adepts capable of creating psionics was still in the single digits. So the first step wasn’t just to teach psionics.

It was to teach how to teach psionics. Tiv or Serral had scheduled us usage of a conference room in one of the dozens of administrative buildings. I’d been so preoccupied with exactly what I was teaching and how that I had no clue how we got here.

I’d just followed my chaperones for the day.

Before me sat three Asu Adepts, plus one Casti of the same rank.

My students.

I hadn’t expected them to be so highly ranked.

“Okay…” I said, where to begin… “What all were each of you told about this?”

“How long do you envision this taking?” one of the Farnata asked wearily.

The question caught me off guard, and I hestitated.

“The lesson should be a few hours,” I said. “Psionics can be disorienting the first time.”

“Psi-what?” the lone Casti asked.

One of the Farnata nudged him—what they thought was—subtly.

“Celas…” they said, trading a knowing glance.

My palm found my forehead. Oh dear, this was going to be difficult.

“I suppose introductions are in order,” I said. Name games were a staple of the first day of school.

“That doesn’t matter,” another Farnata complained. “What are we actually doing here, and how much of our very valuable time is going to consume?”

I had to master the flash of irritation that coursed through me.

A commitment was made on the spot: if they didn’t want to share names, then I wouldn’t bother learning them. I didn’t really need them anyway.

“Things just might go swifter if questions were actually followed by answers,” I said.

Ooo… they did not like that.

Sarcasm to ranking military officers might not have been the best strategy.

“Where do you get the right to speak to us that way?” the Casti, Celas, said.

Dangit. I’d heard his name and so retained it anyway.

“I’m in the right place, right?” I asked, getting more upset. “This is where I’m sharing new, unknown alien Adeptry with Coalition personnel, so they can distribute the knowledge among your soldiers?”

“Not all of us are Adept,” the Casti said dryly. “Brilliant.”

“What, are you guys [screwing] with me?” I asked. “Come on, just tell me what you already know so we can get started.”

“My orders were to inquire about your Adeptry and determine how much of it could be useful if mimicked by our own Adepts,” the third Farnata said.

“[Bull…]” I muttered. “Psionics were already evaluated by two Ase, the Admiral, and Nai Cal-Yan-Ti herself. Your orders weren’t to make any determinations; you’re supposed to learn about them so you can teach others in turn.”

“Leadership is playing games,” Celas muttered. “Humoring an alien child for civil boons…”

I didn’t want to assume anything, but these aliens were significantly older than the ones I usually interacted with. Tiv was the oldest Farnata I’d interacted with more than once, but all three of these Adepts seemed at least a few years older than him.

Whether they were older than Laranta or Serral was harder to discern.

Did it really matter though? They weren’t going to listen to ‘a child’.

“Tell you what,” one of the Farnata said, rising from the table, “I’ll go and get a hold of an Ase who has more details for us.”

“Seriously?” I asked her, appalled.

I asked my chaperone.

Outside our meeting room, Thugnin and Jage were happy to oblige.

they responded.

The Adept got to the door where two aloof Casti stood outside, casually blocking the doorway.

“Out of my way,” the Asu snapped. “I’m not wasting my time with this fantasy.”

Jage sent me.

“They’re not going to listen to you,” I said.

“I outrank them.”

“But you can’t supersede Serralinitus’s orders,” I said exaspeerated.

Tiv had taken this so much better!

He’d been curious about something new, and so even when presented with something inscrutable and frustrating, he’d kept tackling it.

Why couldn’t these jerks?

Had Nai vouching for me really carried that much weight?

“[Who am I kidding, of course she did,]” I said under my breath, “[they gave her a superhero name.]”

“You all need a demonstration,” I decided. “And afterwards take this seriously. I don’t want to waste my time either.”

There was no reason to get fancy. I’d shown off psionics before.

“Give a number,” I said. “Actually no…give me any verbal piece of information. I don’t care how long. Any of you.”

The second Farnata, who’d said the least so far, spoke a string of words in Speropi. I glared at her for the technicality.

I’d planned on relaying the message to one of my chaperones outside. But this?

I asked, switching channels.

Nerin complained.

I said.

Nai replied, feeding me the translated audio.

I, in turn, fed it to Thugnin outside. He poked his head through the door, reciting, “The nine of them went into the valley to stand vigil. They stayed on their feet from dusk to dawn, slept under the sun, and partook no sustenance save the rain. They awaited for five weeks and five days—is that enough or do I keep going?”

“I think that’s sufficient,” I said smugly.

I savored their confused expressions.

The Farnata who’d posed the quote was downright shocked though. She’d tried to get clever by resorting to a different language. But it didn’t matter as long as I heard the sounds clearly. They were broadcast as easily as any other.

“I picked that passage at random,” she frowned.

“And I had no idea what it means,” I said. “I had to relay it to someone who could translate it. They sent it back to me, and I passed the translation to Thugnin. All. In. Real. Time.”

“That’s impossible, you didn’t go anywhere,” Farnata three said.

“You used a radio,” the Casti guessed.

“I did, in fact, use a radio,” I said. “But not an ordinary one. It was in my mind. It stays in my mind. And it works entirely within my mind. Now, are you going to answer my question or not? How much do you already know?”

Not one straight answer was given, the entire time. It was like pulling teeth.

The minutes dragged on, and I had to remind myself these weren’t kindergarteners.

A long time ago, when my third-grade teacher had a death in her family, she’d given detention for…I didn’t actually remember what exactly, but it had been over nothing. She’d overreacted and I hadn’t understood that until later, when my mother explained it to me.

My parents had said adults had much more in common with children than either of them would ever be keen to admit.

It was true of human adults, and it was proving true of middle-aged aliens too.

At least they weren’t pretending psionics couldn’t exist anymore. You might not know it by how they were talking though.

“So you have no formal definition for these…’psionics’” Farnata three drawled.

“No,” I said again. “I made the first piece eight…maybe nine months ago? It’s hard to say exactly when, but maybe a day or two before Korbanok. This stuff hasn’t exactly been around that long.”

“If you’re as new to them as we are, then why are you qualified at all to instruct us?” the Casti, Celas, asked.

“Because it was a long eight months,” I said. My patience was being tested. “And I wasn’t doing nothing that whole time. I made dozens of psionic constructs, and refined them hundreds of times. I’ve had eight months of mistakes to learn from, and believe me, I learned everything I could from every one of them.”

“I’m not sure I’m prepared to consent to ‘mental objects’ being placed into my mind,” a Farnata said. “Without knowing more, I’m not convinced it’s not a violation of my consciousness.”

I wanted to scream.

Who the hell had Laranta sent me? Or were these officers Serral’s pick?

Tiv?

It wasn’t until now, that I was actually struggling my way through a lesson, that it occurred to me that I maybe should have been involved in determining exactly whom I would be teaching.

“Coward,” I said. “The Century didn’t even blink when I shared them with him.”

Maddeningly enough, that seemed to get their attention. They somehow hadn’t already understood that I’d given psionics to other Adepts. But how come? Had my demonstration not been clear?

Were psionics just hard to conceptualize without having experienced them firsthand?

“That is disrespectful, child,” Asu Celas said. “Recant.”

“No,” I said. “You’re here to learn. I’m either sharing the tutorial module with you right now, or I’m getting Serralinitus to give me more reasonable students.”

It might have been pulling teeth, but every tooth came out eventually.

We ended the day with the four officers silently examining the latest version of the tutorial module.

They were quiet, totally absorbed in the strange thing I’d revealed to them.

It was almost cathartic.

Almost.

·····

I caught Nai and Nerin the next morning.

“You two have to help me,” I said.

“Sure,” Nai said, but her sister said, “fine.”

“How do I get the high-ranking officers in my psionics class to actually listen to me?”

Nerin just started laughing. Nai could not have more clearly pitied me.

“Well first you’re going to need to…”

·····

Celas the Casti proved to be just as obstinate as the first day.

The three Farnata sat down on their side of the table, but the lone non-Adept in the room stayed standing.

I eyed him without saying a word. I was ready for him to try throwing his weight around.

“Is there nothing to be said about yesterday?” the Asu asked.

“No,” I said plainly.

The Casti stared at me, daring me to keep going. But I wasn’t playing chicken.

“…I am willing to learn from you to understand exactly what psionics can allow the Coalition to do,” the Casti breathed, “but I am third class officer in this Coalition, and we are entitled to a modicum of respect!”

“No, you aren’t,” I said. “You stopped being a Coalition Asu the moment you walked through that door, and you won’t be one again until our lesson has concluded. Ase Tiv and Admiral Laranta gave you express orders to learn from me. So, here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to shut up and stop interrupting class, because I don’t want to call Serralinitus or the Century. And as disastrous as yesterday was, we did get far enough into our topic that you know I can ring either of them with a thought.”

“You wouldn’t dare…” the Casti hissed.

“Oh please,” I grinned, “all I’d have to do is ask. ‘Oh Tiv, can we please find someone to replace Asu Celas?’ He wouldn’t even blink, especially if I actually told anyone why. Trying to [flex] your rank on a kid? [Come on…]”

“I do outrank you,” Celas protested, but he hesitated the slightest amount, glancing toward his Farnata friend.

“I don’t have a rank for you to out-do,” I shrugged.

I was pissed, not just at Asu Celas, but the other three Farnata too.

Yesterday they’d been of largely the same attitude, but today they’d been content to sit back and watch how Celas fared first. Brinksmanship like this was beyond stupid, even if you ignored how valuable psionics could be to the Coalition.

It didn’t help that the three Farnata were the first Adepts who would be responsible for teaching other Coalition Adepts how to create psionics to distribute.

First things first: make sure everyone’s transceivers were working.

Nerin’s feedback shone here. The hardest part of psionics was receiving new constructs.

And if something was hard for people in the past, they’d made a tool for it. So why couldn’t we make a psionic tool to make receiving constructs more straightforward?

Even better, Nerin was right. We already had one: the receiver half of the telepathy transceivers.

It had taken some development—the new version was more than twice as large—but it should enable people to better ‘catch’ psionics that were tossed at their minds.

There was probably a better method to be made, but we were still early days.

The Asu cooperated over this at least. It gave me hope we were in for a more productive second day.

one Farnata commented.

Celas pointed out.

another Asu asked.

“” I answered. “”

That should have been the end of the discussion. But I both under, and over, estimated them.

I overestimated their sense of caution, and underestimated their guile.

The starter module I’d made included six standardized tools: a clock, a self-perception tool, the transceiver, the psionic manipulation tool, the storage framework, and a ream of psionic paper that could be marked however they imagined. Each tool would be theoretically customizable by anyone who had the tools and skills to add to them later.

So the next step in ensuring these new psionic individuals would be able to pass on the tools and skills to others was to check that each tool was staying consistent even when transferred between multiple minds. Even if the potential for modification was endless, just how standardly could psionics be shared?

Sadly, it was a question that wouldn’t be answered that day, because I found another psionic construct landing in my mind.

I asked, examining the object. In the moment I’d first noticed it, it had seemed to freeze in place…

Celas’ Adept friend asked.

I tossed the new construct back toward his mind, only for the object’s behavior to make itself clear.

As soon as it left my mind’s grasp, it divided in two. One half darted back toward me, into my mind. The other half dove toward the Adept’s mind, seeking it out intently.

I nearly exploded.

It was a self-animating psionic construct. One that could apparently reproduce itself too.

“[Oh you stupid assholes,]” I breathed. “”

Glancing at each of their mind’s, they each had at least one of these critters. Celas had two. They weren’t hard to spot. They weren’t able to hide within anyone’s consciousness. They weren’t subtle enough. They’d made this without saying anything to me. I hadn’t expected them to be able to tell which psionic channels I wasn’t tuned into.

“” I hissed. “”

“” one of the Adepts defended. “”

“” I said. “”

“”

“” I spat. “”

Looks of concern cropped up on the Adepts’ faces, but Celas wasn’t convinced yet.

“” one of them said, trying to downplay. “”

“? I asked. “”

“”

I shoved a modification into the critter in my mind and sent it toward the Adept who’d spoken.

My critter split again, one half diving back to me, the other diving into the Adept.

The Farnata started screaming.

“” I spat. “”

The object lesson was painful, because the same modification I’d made to afflict him, had also landed in me. But I was prepared for the sheer chaos it wreaked on my senses.

To the best of my knowledge, psionics were like Adeptry. They could add, but not subtract.

I’d found some neat ways around that limitation by adding certain sounds to overwrite the ones my ears actually heard, but it still hadn’t truly eliminated the original sounds. Certain sensations could be given priority enough to overshadow extant ones.

The modified critter was now adding to every sense it could find near the surface of the Adept’s mind. Pain amongst them.

Five seconds passed by, and the self-elimination modification I’d added hadn’t worked.

“[Dammit,]” I muttered.

What came next made my skin crawl. It was a bad idea. I knew it was a bad idea from…all the way from the very first moment, hadn’t I?

I made a psionic weapon.

The critters weren’t hiding. The weapon didn’t even need to be aimed.

Before I activated it, I built a wall in my mind: a barrier to enclose every other psionic construct I had.

Boom.

It was rudimentary psionic bomb.

It put every theory I had to the test, but I was relieved when I saw it didn’t harm anyone’s consciousness. Their minds’ themselves were untouched.

But the blast obliterated the critters and every psionic element close the surface. Most of their mental documents—not that any of them had much of a stockpile—were wiped out.

I wanted to confiscate their psionics wholesale. But my bomb confirmed that it wouldn’t be that simple. To destroy every psionic piece they held, I’d have to make a self-animated creation of my own: something that could burrow deeper and get at what the bomb couldn’t.

That would undermine my point rather badly though.

“t s t?” Celas asked.

Hmm. His transceiver had been damaged in the blast.

“That was me stopping you from unleashing a mental infestation,” I said. “We’re done. Period. I’m not going to teach people who aren’t going to take my warnings seriously.”

I sent,

Serral asked.

Serral said.

I sent,

Tiv sent back. Times five.

“You can’t just kick us out,” one protested. “You’re obligated to share psionics with the Coalition.”

“But not you,” I countered. “Forget this, Tiv has a whole workshop of Adepts ten times way more teachable than you lot.”

·····

And they were.

So much more.

The next Adept workshop, we gathered in the scrimmage arenas once more, and Tiv helped me lay out ground rules.

“”

Roughly twenty Farnata Adepts all mumbled their agreement. The new tutorial module was complete with a firewall and designated reception points, for both psionic signals and complete constructs.

Tiv said, not so subtly indicating the number of clones he was joined by.

There were no arguments with that.

Nai had said I might share new alien Adeptry with them, but this was beyond what any of them expected.

Tiv said privately.

I glanced at him.

I admitted.

he said.

I vented.

Tiv shared.

I said.

“Mmm…” Tiv hummed thoughtfully.

Tiv admitted.

Hah.

Tiv winced, but didn’t disagree.

he grimaced.

I said.

“As if you would know about being pressed for time,” I mocked.

·····

Psionics. Earth tech. Adeptry. Locating Nora’s group.

I was swamped. That second one was my next goal. I was going to make at least a little progress. If I could get an alien to understand Earth hardware, maybe I could pull more information from the phones I couldn’t unlock.

A week after adding psionics to the Adept workshop, I learned that Shinshay really had gotten in touch with Ase Serralinitus. My Casti stalker really was the technical genius they claimed to be.

Serral had checked them out, and now I was bringing them two phones from earth for them to try reverse engineering.

“Does one of you know where the… kanseith building is?” I asked today’s chaperones.

My sole Farnata bodyguard, Deg, leaned over looking at the map I’d materialized.

“Yes, it should be through…there.”

Deg pointed out the nearest set of double doors, labeled ‘labs’.

Duh.

As soon as I went through, I found Shinshay.

“[Mister] Caleb!” they called out, waving me down. “I wanted to thank you again for this opportunity. This could be invaluable for developing—”

“Shinshay,” I cut them off, “I know. You don’t need the script.”

“But—ah, right…than, ah, what do you have for me?”

“Two,” I said, handing him the devices. “This one is a [smartphone]. The screen is sensitive to touch. That’s how it’s operated. The second is plainer: a slide phone. I don’t know what all you’re going to be interested in, but I think you’re going to be more careful with this stuff than others. Try not to damage them.”

“Are you not sticking around?” Shinshay asked, bewildered.

“No, I have…well I’m involved with a class. It’s taking a lot of my…time…” I trailed off, as I counted the presence of psionic-equipped minds in the room.

Me, Deg, and Fenno should have made three.

But there was a fourth.

I shouted at them.

“…What’s going on?” Shinshay asked.

“Hang on,” I said.

The Casti researcher in question didn’t shy away when I walked over to them.

I asked Deg and Fenno.

Fenno replied.

“Excuse you, why am I being disturbed?” the researcher asked.

I replied.

This wasn’t like the Vorak who had rudimentary forms of the same principle. This Casti’s psionics were developed. They were mine! I recognized the transceiver identifier codes I’d worked into the tutorial module.

“A friend shared these ‘psionics’ with me,” the Casti protested. “As a curiosity. I’m interested in their application.”

“Caleb…” Fenno said, nudging me. “I was there, you didn’t actually tell any of the workshop to not share psionics…”

“” I asked angrily.

But really, she was right.

Tiv and I had landed on the Organic Authority bio-Adeptry limits to use as a basis. But those only prohibited creations that spread themselves. Sharing a psionic tool with someone else wasn’t that fundamentally different from sharing an Adept creation.

I hadn’t told them not share at all, and technically psionics weren’t classified.

Not only that, but there also wasn’t anything I could do about it. At least not safely. It wasn’t like I could just reach into his head. Much less pull out the psionics.

I’d just finished making a firewall to protect against that very problem.

I sent, widely broadcasting on all psionic channels.

I didn’t bother checking for responses. Every psionic person for miles would have heard me.

I followed up on one of the channels reserved for the investigation,

“Shinshay, I’m sorry,” I told them. “I wasn’t going to be able to stay long, but something has come up. You have these two devices. Can I catch up with you about the results later? I have…I have to go!”

I was walking out the door, reevaluating my judgement.

This might have been a monumental mistake.

Because psionics were only going to keep growing, and I was losing a handle on them.