Mock

(Starspeak)

Serral chided me.

I said.

Serral said,

I said.

Serral chuckled.

I agreed.

Jordan gave the back of my hand a tap. Five-minute warning. Her superlocator and its pearls were valuable, but they did have limits, most notably: time. She had to be asleep—or very close to it—in order for the pearl’s twinned position to stabilize.

Even holding one in my mind, continuously subjecting it to every psionic scrutiny I could bring to bear, it was a mystery. The pearl itself was just a hole in my mind leading to nowhere as much as anywhere for all I could tell the difference.

And yet, my superconnector could reach through that hole just fine and talk to Serral on the other side of the star system.

he told me. I couldn’t blame him for reiterating the lecture.

I said.

Serral asked dryly.

I defended. Only the first part worked in Starspeak though.

Serral replied, equally defensive.

I said.

I said.

Serral reminded me.

I tried.

The words were not convincing.

I had nearly gotten in a fight to the death the day before, so, of course they weren’t.

he instructed with a sigh.

The connection winked out from his end.

Jordan’s eyes immediately fluttered open. For a moment, she just lay there, staring up at the ceiling of the gulf-city municipal hall’s presentation stage.

“[…Rise and shine?]” I said.

She continued to lie with her eyes open, saying nothing.

“[Jordan?]”

“[Just demonstrating to you what relaxing looks like,]” she said, expression utterly sincere.

“[Smartass],” I accused.

It didn’t take long for Vorak to begin filing into the auditorium.

Postal workers, utility engineers, police officers, all sorts rolled in quickly finding their seats.

On stage with me was Jordan—still pretending like she hadn’t just had a forty-five-minute nap—Peudra, and Halax.

I hated having him here, but Peudra insisted it would lend to our credibility if Humans didn’t outnumber Vorak onstage.

When I’d invited the Missionary Marines’ leaders to this lesson, I’d almost asked Mavriste if I could borrow any of his rak so I wouldn’t need Halax to balance our numbers. But he’d told me Itun was the one he could spare. That was almost certainly a lie, but I was still too embarrassed about trying to kill him to call him out.

Worse, I almost took him up on the offer. My dislike of Halax was entirely related to Nora. I wasn’t blind to that.

Itun was a literal murderer. War criminal.

And yet for a few awful heartbeats, I toyed with the idea of using him instead of Halax.

It wasn’t until Mavriste and Macoru joined the audience that I realized I could have asked one of them directly rather than going to Halax or Itun.

There was a small countdown displayed until the lecture began. It was built into the wall itself. Vorak did like to be punctual.

Standing on stage, plainly visible while the audience entered, was a bit of an odd experience for me. This auditorium lacked any kind of curtain. I wonder if that was true of all Vorak theaters?

Ding, ding.

“[Showtime,]” I said. “Peudra, if you’d please start us off?”

They were a skilled public speaker, launching into terse introduction in Tarassin before introducing the other three of us as well as the morning’s topic: psionics.

“And now, Harpe Hane will take the stage and share some of their expertise,” Peudra said.

“Good evening,” I said, immediately grimacing and biting my tongue. “Except it’s morning. My apologies, most of these workshops have been at night.

The one undeniable advantage of every former theater kid?

Lots of experience memorizing scripts.

Even in an alien language I only half spoke, my grammar was flawless as I went through my own introduction. Practice didn’t make perfect, it made performance.

With the speech itself practically automatic at this point, I turned some of my attention toward Mavriste and Macoru near the back. Their superconstructs still lingering behind their eyes. What did they do? I had so many theories about what distinguished a superconstruct from ordinary creations, but with a sample size of just Jordan and I…

Focus Caleb. You need to stay professional.

“…so for the sake of clarity, I will proceed in Starspeak while Harpe Peudra offers a translation ,” I finished.

One scan of the room had been all we needed to know that every attendee was equipped with their own psionics.

“So, just for my own edification, how many of you can still understand me? A human crowd would just raise their hands, so go ahead and throw up an arm…okay…”

Ever dutiful, Peudra translated that too, and it took a few moments for the incorrect hands to realize exactly what I meant.

The number was around one third of those in attendance. Maybe twenty people in total? But many of those hands seemed hesitant.

“Well that’s just fine,” I said. “Harpe Peudra is well experienced. If you can understand their translation of what I’m saying, now raise your hand.”

Every arm in the audience went up.

“Excellent,” I said. “Now, you all are equipped with basic psionics already. If you’re here, you are someone who has some experience with mental machines. This is not the basic course. There will be two parts to this lecture: the first is psionic utilities. What exactly is and isn’t possible is an immense topic, and I assure you this will only cover the tiniest fraction of those possibilities. But the possibilities we do cover?”

I leaned toward the audience conspiratorially.

“They’ll be advanced far past the basic course. Now the main constraint of psionics is the separation of minds…”

One Vorak near the front raised a hand.

“Yes?” I paused.

“You said the first half would cover psionic utility,” they said—their uniform said they were local police, and they used Starspeak. “What about the second?”

I took careful aim in response, aiming the equivalent of a psionic toothpick fired from a crossbow.

It impacted the Vorak’s default firewall and stuck there, completely harmless but impossible to overlook.

“Part two is psionic combat,” I said.

·····

The first half of the lecture went smoothly.

We covered psionic filing systems, communication networks, the concept of modern digital email…

In the end, a surprising amount of the lecture went into modern Earth ideas about IT and digital, interconnected technology.

The main difference in alien computers wasn’t actually speed or power. Casti-made bioprocessors could achieve comparable results to Earth’s silicon microchips. They were just a lot larger and more expensive.

Psionics, in a sense, represented a portable technology that closely resembled the cellphone and smartphone back on earth.

Most of what psionics could do was perfectly achievable with other devices. Just not as conveniently.

The city’s electrical and water engineers were especially interested in embedded materials. Psionic constructs embedded into wires or pipes could—if built correctly—could give some limited feedback on maintenance or precise locations of breaks or leaks.

Every bureaucrat in the city would want to learn about psionic document processing. A modern secretary with a laptop was better than a whole office of their pre-digital predecessors, and psionics let even the most acute reading disabilities more than double their words per minute—with fewer errors to boot too.

The real standouts were the few Adepts in the crowd. Macoru tried to be slick about asking, but when she’d questioned if psionics could be embedded into exotic materials—potentially to build some sort of control interface, I knew some of what she had in mind.

Instead of having to devise complicated physical mechanisms in a creation to trigger certain changes in a creation, a simple psionic trigger could be used instead.

The example I demonstrated for the audience was a pane of transparent crystal that could become opaque with a thought. It was made so that a certain psionic signal would catalyze an almost imperceptible chemical change in the composition that completely altered its transmittance. Another signal could reverse the catalyzation.

Jordan borrowed a blue print from Madeline’s repertoire and demonstrated a length of metal joints connected in series. Each joint was fitted with a simple actuator that was controlled psionically. The result was prehensile metal tube Jordan could wave around with her mind. It didn’t go fast or grip very firmly, but the design was rudimentary.

Every Adept knew what it represented: a huge shift in the limits to self-moving Adeptry.

It had always been possible to make Adept-machines with moving parts. But the motion of those parts had to be governed by conventional controls.

Now?

I knew Madeline and Aarti had both created adhesive grappling ‘hooks’ whose adhesive could be engaged or disabled with a thought.

Dustin had told me about the computer their group had built for Nora so that she could operate with her mind from anywhere up to a mile away.

That wasn’t even covering the really cool machines that Ben had put together.

Every Saturday cartoon villain’s overly convenient gadget suddenly became a lot more feasible when minutiae of its operation could be slaved to the user’s own mind.

There was only so much time in the morning though. After a quick break for water, it was on to part two.

“Why are so many of the municipal workers sticking around for this?” Jordan wondered. “I would have thought it would just be the cops interested in the psionic combat part.”

“Think about what we just heard about them wanting to build. Even if they don’t think they’ll need to learn to attack, they’ll want to defend the psionics they learn to create,” I said.

“Ah.”

She would miss that point.

Turns out, Adept range was quite a trump card in psionic combat. Not because you could actually outrange an opponent, but because psionic transmission intensity exponentially correlated to the size of the transmitter.

High range Adepts like Jordan could just build a bigger transmitter and blow through any defenses this crowd would care to erect.

“Alright, this is part you’ve all been waiting for, I know. Since psionics aren’t much of a visual spectacle, I’m going to link you all into my own perspective a little bit. I’m not going to be able to move for this next part. So it will be easiest if you all divide into groups,” I said. “Three to five should be fine.”

Peudra chattered away a translation, and the crowd shuffled into small clusters.

I took my own seat on the small stage, crossing my legs like I was ready to meditate.

“Jordan first,” I said. Connecting to this many people in the past, even shallowly, had drawn sharp side-effects. But in a strange way, adding even more minds made it easier.

They were prepared to help me handle any unexpected surges in the connections, which, with a crowd this size, were a virtual certainty.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

My super connector spun up slowly, taking its time linking me into both Nai and Jordan’s minds without the sharp feedback building an instant connection came with.

Good grief, feeling that much Adeptry at our fingertips was absurd. Had to dial things back, imbalance the exchange…full blown Coalescence was gross overkill in this case. I only needed enough of a bridge to share the most general psionic perceptions. We didn’t need everyone intimately aware of each other’s every last thought and emotion.

Nai and Jordan were just buffer.

Peudra got added next.

I announced to the room.

Peudra once again repeated what I said in clean spoken Tarassin. They pointed at the first group, and I waited until the four of them flinched in anticipation.

Building connections with multiple groups made my job simpler. Managing the broad strokes of the connections for five distinct groups was much easier than micromanaging twenty-four individual bridges into their minds.

I said.

Instead of repeating my words, Peudra rebroadcast her translation practically in real time. Less than a tenth of a second of delay.

Hmm. ‘Her’. Her branch of the network was a bit too open. Bits of her own perspective and emotions were leaking through to mine.

I adjusted.

Peudra might think of themselves that way, but they’d been clear in the past about their relationship with the Flotilla: professional.

I asked.

None of the onlooker Vorak were left out.

I did see Mavriste in the background raise his hand. The two of them had neglected to join a group, I saw. But I didn’t extend the superconnector toward them. Did they think they could see enough of what was about to unfold with their own psionic senses?

Knowing they had superconstructs…they actually might.

“[Smart-ass],” I accused.

Macoru shot him a withering glare, and he cut it out.

I asked as I began shuffling around the constructs in my head.

I got nods from our onlookers as they peered into my psionics through the branching connections. Not good enough.

I said.

They were all a bit too Vorak to read the humor in the words, and Peudra shot me glance to hint as much.

Fine, fine…

I asked.

he answered.

I said.

I highlighted the division in question.

Still no answers.

I said.

one rak said.

Peudra’s translation had a bit of pride in it. They were happy at even the first sign of the locals engaging. There would be more shortly though. Peudra didn’t know how much of a spectacle this kind of thing could be.

Just how much of a fight would Halax put up?

I said.

another asked.

Impressively, the officer in question grasped the ping/spotlight system we used to draw attention to indicated constructs.

I said.

yet another otter said.

I agreed.

I created a fake attack to demonstrate what I meant: a scary seeming psionic goo that spread over and through constructs it came into contact with.

The goo spread from the outside of the firewall, being sucked up through the radiating supports straight to the most secure documents and constructs I had.

yet another onlooker asked.

I said.

an onlooker said.

I warned.

I said.

I said.

Before another question could be asked…

Halax declared.

I warned.

he declared, and launched his assault.

One-hundred twenty eight javelins made contact with my firewall simultaneously, each one synchronized to land at precisely the same moment with the precision of thought itself.

They didn’t penetrate.

Instead of allowing them to stay embedded, my firewall sheared away the outermost layer of the itself, discarding some defense, but discarding the javelins along with it: preventing him from driving them in further.

I explained.

I highlighted the checkered flag in question.

I said coyly.

Halax gave me a determined look. I was taunting him and he knew it.

I said.

His onslaught continued. He was mixing in some cleverly packed constructs. They were designed to be innocuous on their own, and each one even sank into my firewall, being erroneously whitelisted.

Clever, clever…he’d created them to mimic the construction of my discarded firewall pieces.

Alas, they didn’t even sink halfway through before I caught the trick and shuffled my firewall’s allowances. In the split second before his compacts were expelled, he triggered them.

I grinned.

He thought he’d been clever getting psionic explosives embedded that deeply into my firewall.

I was ready for it though.

I said.

he growled.

Halax renewed the javelins, still not targeting one spot, but he did restrict the attack to just one third of my total firewall. He only needed to breach it in one place.

Truth was…he might actually break through my firewall at this rate.

I said, highlighting the design for the audience.

one otter asked.

I said.

With that, his thirty seconds were up, and I flicked a switch.

It was true that I couldn't change the firewall from something solid and defending. It was too central to the purpose of it. Maybe if there was a way to forcibly reinterpret Halax’s javelins as invaders, and my firewall as a moat…

But no, the penetrative properties of the javelins would likely have remained, just in a new presentation to match the new metaphor.

No, I wanted my firewall nice and solid.

It was just too easy to think of it as a purely defensive measure…

Halax didn’t see it coming when my firewall broke itself apart, launching out of my mind in pieces!

His reaction was so visceral, he actually leapt up from his seat on stage in a moment of panic. The impression my attack gave off was huge pieces of rocks the size of buildings strapped to rockets, flying right at him.

Abandoning all defense, I cannibalized my own firewall piece by piece, launching it toward Halax’s mind as crude meteors. Each one crashed into Halax’s own firewall with the vivid sensation of a landslide crashing through everything in its path.

It took less than half my firewall to completely obliterate his.

I explained.

Halax muttered, surveying his obliterated defenses.

I said.

Okay, that last suggestion wasn’t going to be viable for anyone but me and Jordan. But the point of this was to get them to aim for the skies, wasn’t it?

a Vorak noted.

Halax renewed his attack, without any firewall to obscure his preparations either. If he’d been a member of the Flotilla, he would have been able to recreate an entire firewall in just a minute or two. All of us had so much practice copying the intro module, we could recreate any of its contents with nary a thought.

I didn’t need to attack Halax as he put together more advanced javelins—no, these weren’t simple weapons. They took longer to make. They were more active. Like…snakes.

No…

Eels.

Halax launched them toward me. His pace now actually exceeded his javelin attack too, despite the increased complexity.

He was digging in his heels, trying to be defiant, knowing that at any time, I could fire up the rockets in another chunk of my firewall and wipe out every snake approaching me.

I let the eels approach though, each one gravitating toward the now-missing chunks of my firewall.

As soon as one slid into my mind, I snatched it up to show the audience through our connection.

I crushed the eel in a psionic grip to demonstrate.

I said.

an onlooker noted.

And with that, I promptly flipped my own mind.

Every eel fell right out of my mind, upward, away from me.

Halax and every single member of the audience flinched at the disorientation.

someone asked, dismayed.

I agreed.

Halax said, shifting his attack.

Eels became…bird…bat…things. Aboutirs, Peudra’s consciousness informed me. Winged bugs of such a variety of sizes it boggled the mind.

Thousands of them swarmed toward the checkered flag, boldly mocking all attackers, undefended in my mind.

All Halax had to do was steer one of his flying psionic interlopers to steal even the slightest scrap of it. He’d win.

I made sure to rub in just how lax I was being as I shot down the aboutirs.

But little by little they made progress, through the gap in my firewall, through the streaks of psychic lighting and fire I stirred around in my own mind.

For a split second, Halax’s minions made a breakthrough, a dozen different bug-bats broke through, streaking for the checkered flag.

I couldn’t stop all of them.

He knew it.

I knew it.

So it was with the utmost enjoyment that I closed my mind’s grip around the checkered flag itself…and burned it.

Every bug Halax had sent into my mind froze in confusion, and I just grinned.

I said.

Halax accused.

I shrugged.

Just to rub salt in the wound, I reformed the gap in my firewall and turned it opaque with Halax’s thousands of infiltrators still caught inside.

Had I flooded my mind with fire? Had I corralled them into cells for later dissection? How could he ever find out? The mystery would bother him more than seeing them destroyed.

I took it all back.

Doing this with Itun wouldn’t have been nearly as fun.

But there was one thing that still nagged me as I let my superconnector spin down.

I asked.

Mavriste and Macoru were still at the back. And would you believe it? They had the gall to look unimpressed.

Mavriste said quietly.

Macoru said.

They had to be bluffing, right? They were being coy. Had to be. I tried ignoring the shiver that went down my spine. Had none of that surprised them? Just how good were they at psionics?

For the first time, I began to doubt if I was the best psionic alive.