Chapter 36: Minds Eye

"Oh no, no, no, no," I muttered, leaning back, but realising I was still clamped to the chair and table. I tried to move away, for what good it would do me, but I was held fast.

"What do you have to hide?" The woman said calmly. I shook my head.

"Nothing to hide, I just don't want a Psyker poking around in my head," I said. That would've been true even without the serum. The idea of someone reading my mind disturbed me in more ways then one. I didn't want anyone to know what was going on in my head. That was my bastion, my ultimate refuge against the world, the one truly personal, private thing I had left.

I didn't want anyone looking into that. Much less uncovering the extremely dangerous truth that I wasn't even from this universe. While I'd worried about people finding out about this, I honestly had no idea what they'd do if they did. But it seemed like I was going to find out.

A door opened in the back wall, and a wave of cold air rushed in. There he was.

The psyker.

Dressed in nondescript brown robes with a hood over his face, his hands manacled together, and a chain and collar wrapped around his neck, he seemed to be more restrained then I was. Two bulky men in padded armour stood behind him, faces hidden behind those blank red helmets.

The psyker stepped into the room, and the temperature dropped even further. Frost formed on the table and in the air. I shivered, my naked flesh prickling at the cold touch of the frigid air. My breath steamed in the rapidly dropping temperature, and I tried my best not to shrivel up into a ball as they stepped closer. The interrogators stepped back, but the shotgun-toting guard stepped forward, raising his gun to the psykers back. Two other armed followed behind the first ones, the men keeping shotguns levelled at his head the whole time.

"You have nothing to fear, if you are loyal," the psyker said. I grimaced. That wasn't true in the slightest, as evidenced by how everyone in the room was acting. Really, could they be anymore transparent? When a man walks into a room with four men pointing shotguns at him and tells me not to be afraid of him, what did he think was going to happen?

The man threw back his head, and I could see his head was clean shaven, and a large cable ran from the top of his skull down his back. It hummed with quiet energy. His eyes were sunken and hollow, his face shrivelled and dour. He didn't look like he'd ever smiled in his entire life. He reached out and grabbed my hands with his own, bound and manacled. His skin was rough and leathery. He smelt faintly of incense.

"I'm going to read your mind now," he intoned, and I felt a new wave of cold seep over me. The flame inside me seemed to keep it at bay, but only a little. I could almost see tendrils of grey worming their way into my vision, into my brain.

"You resist. Do not resist. If you are loyal, you have nothing to fear," he said again. The interrogators looked at me with their expressionless faces. The guards kept their guns trained on the psyker, surrounding him. The room seemed to grow dim. The light was fading. Oh, no, no, no, this wasn't good. What was happening.

"His resistance, it is strong," he grunted. The interrogators looked at him.

"How is he resisting?" One of them said. I could barely make them out in the fading light. I felt…so…tired.

"Is mind…his resistance, it is very impressive," he said, "but I have him now…"

What does that mean, I thought to myself? I won't let him into my mind, I won't…I won't…

My eyes closed. The room went black. There was silence, followed by nothingness. Complete silence. A sensation, like freefalling, and then a bright, shining light.

I opened my eyes. I was in a field. A field of grass. There was sunlight, real, bright, hot sunlight. I was on my side, lying in a field of grass. I rolled onto my back. The grass was dry, and crunched beneath me. The sky was blue, bright, and clear. The sun was warm and hot. I sat up.

Where was I?

I didn't have to find out, I knew where this was. Or rather, what this was. A vision. I was inside my own head. This was…unexpected.

I climbed to my feet. I could smell grass, and dirt, and…eucalyptus? I looked around. There were gumtrees close by. Pale green and brown leaves rustled in the soft breeze. I knew where this was.

Home.

"What am I looking at?" I heard a voice muse. I saw the psyker was standing in the same field as me, looking around carefully, stroking his chin. In the light, he looked…different. More like a wise old man then a freaky monk. He didn't have the cable in his scalp here, and he was standing tall and upright. He had some white hair along the side of his head a small white beard on his chin. His eyes were clear and bright.

He turned to me, as if surprised I was there at all.

"You can manifest a presence of mind here?" He said curiously, looking at me. I didn't respond. I couldn't respond. As much as I tried to, I couldn't say a word.

"Hmm, you don't seem to be aware…or at the very least, not strongly. Fascinating. I've never seen an untrained mind with such strength before. And this mental landscape…it is fascinating!" He said, looking around.

"Where…am….I?" I said eventually. Why did I say that? I knew where I was. Home. Australia. The countryside.

"Oh, you can speak. How interesting. Yes, where are you? Oh, I suppose you mean what is this? This is your mind, or at the very least, how your mind manifests. Everyone's mind has a different mental landscape. Some are buildings, some are towers, or castles, or oceans. This, this is interesting. Different. And you are here…only a very strong-willed person can manifest in their own mind when being psychically interrogated. Yes, you resisted me. Your willpower is exceptional."

So, this was my mind, huh? My mind manifests as the bush? How very Australian of me, but a part of me felt like it was wrong. Why the bush? I could think of a great many things that'd better represent my mind then the bush.

"Let's find those thoughts, hmm? Those memories," the intruder in my mind said, setting off into the bush. The sun seemed to get warmer.

No, don't, don't do that. No one's going to find my memories, you don't get to see them. Any of them.

"It's strange, I'm looking for them, but I can't find them. What's going on?" He said, wincing in the sunlight.

"What…are…you…doing?" I said involuntarily. It was as if he there were two people, two versions of myself, one who was speaking in a trance, and the other who was watching it all unfold, unable to interfere, only observe.

"You're not aware, are you? Can you hear me? Is there a person there, or just the illusion of one?" The psyker turned to me, peering at me closely. Whatever I wanted to say, I had no control over.

"What…is…going…on?" I said, or rather, the part of that could speak said. Was this my unconscious speaking, and my conscious was watching. Was this like some sort of sleep paralysis, where your mind is aware but your body is not, and you can only watch, detached from reality, as your mind conjures all sorts of phantasms before you?

It certainly seemed like that was the case.

"No, you're not. Hmm. That is rather disappointing. I had hoped that if you could manifest a presence of mind, you'd be aware. It seems you are not that developed. It is merely wishful thinking," he muttered, continuing to walk into the bush. A tarmac road appeared before him, and suddenly we were whisked off into a city. Sydney, to be precise.

The psyker looked around in sudden, unabashed interest.

"Oh, this is interesting. This is very interesting."

We were in Darling Harbour, in broad daylight, but the city was empty and quiet. It was very eery. It was so off-putting, to walk along the piers of the empty harbour. The water wasn't quite right either. It was pitch black, like the water in my dreams. It was completely still.
"An impressive mindscape, but not one that is fortified. Complex, yes, but open, if one knows where to go. Ordered, in an odd way. Yes, I see now, your mind is full of reason, but not one that ordinary people can understand…no, not one that strangers can understand. It needs…familiarity," he said. The sun got brighter, and he winced.

Somehow, I knew that my mind was different was because I wasn't indoctrinated with Imperial propaganda like every person whose mind he'd probably looked into. There weren't layers of hate and fear and blind dogma covering any sense of rational thought or humanity in my mind. My mind, my perspective on life, my entire outlook on the world was so totally different to everyone he'd ever looked into. My mind was probably the most alien human mind he'd ever seen.

"Now, where are those memories?" He said. The sun got brighter, almost uncomfortably bright and hot.

"Gah, what is that…the sun….AH! Why is it so bright?"

He staggered, falling over a couple of chairs outside a restaurant. He lent on a table for support, clutching his head, as if in a daze.

"What was I after…yes, memories, that's right," he muttered, trying to walk towards the city centre, walking through Tumbalong Park. I don't know who he knew his way around, but he appeared to be moving in a trance, as if sensing where to go.

"Yes, your mind, it is open, but if you know the way, it is there," he said, looking up. "Why is it so bright?"

I wish I knew, but I couldn't say or do anything, forced to follow him in my disembodied state of awareness. The sun seemed to be blinding him every now and then, and he'd stagger around as if dazed. Was I still resisting?

"Where is this?" He said, as if suddenly aware of where he was. "Practica is a cold agri world with just one hive city…what am I looking at?"

He turned to me, suddenly cautious.

"Where is this? You know what this is, tell me!" He barked. I didn't say anything, not at first.

"Who…are…you?" I asked him. He frowned, then snarled angrily, waving his arm. The landscape wavered.

"Are you in there? Looking at me? Do you know what this is? Speak, damnit!"

"What…are…you…doing?" My reply came unbidden. This only seemed to anger him further.

"No, what is going on? What are you doing? You've been trained, haven't you, or yes, you have, no ordinary mind can build a resistance like this. Who trained you, and why? AH! Why is the sun so bright!?" He screamed, staggering back as his eyes smoked. The sun was pretty bright, I had to admit, but it seemed to burning him.

He waved his arms, and then we were in the streets. Clarence street, to be precise. That was just absurd. Of all the streets…it was this one?

The buildings loomed over us, somehow seemingly a lot taller than they really were.

"There are answers here, I can feel them. Where are they? What is your mind hiding?" He shouted, staggering down the empty streets, my body floating behind him. I could still move, but speaking was beyond me.

The psyker shook as he leant across a storefront, hand on the window. He peered down the streets, eyes narrowed.

"Memories, thoughts, they're close. Something, answers, truth, truth is close," he said. He struggled to walk down the street, his feet sinking into the road, which melted into tar with each step.

"Gah! You do resist, you do! Are you aware! Tell me!" He screamed. The buildings seemed to look down on him disapprovingly. Something thundered off in this distance, a low rumble, like the streets themselves were shaking in disapproval. The air buzzed. The light of the sun grew brighter.

"If I can…just…reach…that…place….I….will…know…the….truth," he wheezed, collapsing onto the ground, his skin cracking and blistering on the road.

"The sun…why is the sun so bright?" He whispered, as the heat intensified. It was the fire, I realised, the same fire I'd felt within me before, when I was in the water, when they had drugged me, and now, here it was, stronger then ever before. I felt that moment of clarity once more, that moment of control, and I realised, in a way that cannot be expressed, that I had control once more.

"Get out of my head," I hissed, and the psyker turned to me, looking at me with cold, dead eyes as his body burned in the heat of the angry sun. His parched and bloodied lips parted to ask one final question.

"What…are…you?"

Suddenly, the vision collapsed, the streets disappeared, the buildings wavered and blew away like ash on the wind, and light of the sun grew until it was a searing white-gold flame that drove all but the sensation of the flame within me away. I was left with that, that white-hot, searing flame, but I didn't feel the heat, at least, not the scorching heat that the psyker clearly felt. I knew it was burning hot beyond belief, but it felt…reassuring, like a barrier between me and…whatever else was out there. In my state of heightened clarity, I had the presence of mind to finally pin down just what this was. This was a shield. A ward. A barrier. My minds mental protection, that kept anyone from interfering with it. Just as I knew I could read, speak and understand any language I encountered, I somehow knew this would shield me from any psychic probe into my mind, and keep those same powers from influencing me. Somehow, I knew the two phenomenon were linked. The same power that granted me the ability to understand everything also kept anything from understanding my mind. Fascinating.

The flame disappeared, but I knew it was not leaving me. It was merely going away, because I did not need it anymore. It burned away from leaving nothing but the blackness.

The blackness that stretched on forever. Silent. Empty. Infinite.

And then there was sight, and sound, and cold. I opened my eyes, the light of the interrogation chamber blinding at first, but it soon faded away to the dim gloom it really was. My breath frosted in the air. I was still sitting across from the psyker, who was smiling gently.

"What did you see?" The black clad interrogators asked. The psyker straightened, his smile unwavering. The interrogators were clutching some readouts from a machine hooked up to his mind-cable. They were staring at the results quizzically.

"Why, nothing but the most well organised mind I've ever seen in a new recruit," the psyker said warmly, almost happily. The interrogators looked at me, then back to him, incredulously.

"Really?"

"Why of course, there's not a hint of anything amiss in that mind, not a trace. His fortitude is commendable, as is his discipline. His mind is the textbook example of how a proper Imperial citizen's mental landscape should look," he said smoothly. The interrogators blinked.

"But…but these readings…the results of the lie detector, the truth serum, they all paint a very different picture. Are you sure you're ok? You don't seem alright?" They said suspiciously, and then men cocked their shotgun for effect.

"Oh, that? Nothing to worry about. Yes, he might have a few small errors here and there, really, who doesn't, but I can tell you with complete honesty, there is not a trace of treachery or insurrection in that mind of his. Nor is there a trace of psychic potential, for that matter," he added as an afterthought.

Huh, so he came away with that under the impression I'm totally normal, did he? Did he see exactly what he expected to see, or was his perception altered? Given that he seemed to grow suspicious halfway through the vision, I think he caught on that something was wrong, but here he is, singing my praises. Did he not remember what he saw, or did he come away with a totally different set of memories?

Whatever the case, it appeared I had dodged a bullet there. A big one. He apparently thinks my mind is the perfect example of a well-fortified Imperial mind, without a trace of psychic potential in me. The interrogators were still suspicious, because I'd said some weird things, but according to the psychic interrogation, I'm completely fine.

That meant I might just make it through this alive. Perhaps it can be passed off as faulty equipment, or just improper education or discipline due to my upbringing, or whatever. Perhaps the rest of the squad would have issues as well, and I wouldn't seem like such a sore thumb by comparison. If we all said some weird things or answered questions wrong, perhaps they'd assume it's a group flaw, rather then a personal one, attribute it to where we (supposedly) come from, and leave it at that?

Either way, I couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief as they took off my bindings and sent me on my way. I was told to dress and return to the wards to await my squad, and I for one couldn't be happier to do just that.

But there was still something which nagged away at me, something which I knew now set me apart from everyone else. Whatever it was, it was not a figment of my imagination.

That flame, whatever it is, was proof that I was not perfectly normal. There was something, or someone, that was shielding me from being exposed, and I had a fair idea of what may be responsible for that…

Authors notes:

You get some longer chapters today! And a rather long series of notes, but oh well.

These were some things I enjoyed writing, for a variety of reasons. One, is that the Imperiums medical science is actually quite sophisticated, if you look at how widespread stuff like cybernetics is and how easily available it apparently is. Plus, medical science, and medical knowledge, is widely spread across several Imperial institutions. Its apparently one of the few sciences that isn't completely dominated by the Adeptus Mechanicus. Furthermore, medical research is actually conducted by various institutions, meaning its one of the few things that's actually advancing in the Imperium!

Also, I couldn't miss the opportunity to include Sisters of Battle in there, even if it was only Hospitallers. And in case you think its weird that the Sisters of Battle would deliberately send their prettiest members to run basic medical tests, remember that this is the Imperium. Its constantly testing everyone, both the soldiers who have to endure the medical tests in such an awkward fashion, and the Sisters themselves who have to conduct it. If neither of them could make it through that, it's a sign that they're probably not cut out for this life.

Then we have the interrogation scene. I took a lot of inspiration from 1984, Clockwork Orange and Bladerunner when I was coming up with what sort of stuff they'd put people through to weed out potential traitors. Of course, I ended up being a little suspicious, but thanks to my…unusual gift, I was able to get my way out of the psychic interrogation.

And isn't that little power rather interesting? Anyone want to take a guess at what it could possibly be?