Chapter 6

'Tank'

Over the years, Raz had had a lot of teachers.

He'd learned balance and flexibility from his family…and how to fall and how to adapt to the idea that 'home' could be anywhere. Being a performer had made him confident from a young age, being a part of a large family had made it so that privacy was a rare privilege and probably contributed to building up his impressive mental defenses.

There had been literal teachers within the Psychonauts of course, where he had attended actual lessons and learned stuff like psi-blast and pyrokinesis and levitation…and at the time being able to shoot or burn things seemed like the most important takeaway from those lessons. He had always been naturally gifted and picked up on things quickly but didn't always think things through. That lesson had been harder to learn.

He'd met a lot of wonderful people, some of them he'd been reading about in his comics for years. He learned a lot from them as well, although maybe the most Important thing he'd learned from them was that even the most powerful, intelligent and talented people could lose themselves because of things that were outside of their control. He'd learned that everyone had problems and fears and doubt and that, if given a chance, most people didn't want to be cruel or hurt others. Most people didn't want to be alone and often wanted help even if they couldn't ask for it.

It was funny how simple it had all been back then. Sure, it hadn't seemed that way at the time…but looking back…a lot of complicated things had happened around him…and he'd helped a lot of people deal with really complicated problems…but as a child, a lot of that complexity had admittedly been lost on him. To some degree, maybe that attitude had helped…or maybe it was just easier to see the simple solution to someone else's complex problems.

The first truly difficult lesson he'd had to learn here, was that most of that important wisdom…was completely useless in his current situation.

The first year was a bit of a blur, maybe that was a kindness his own brain was doing him, although these days he could barely count on his own brain for much of anything. He'd spent most of that year fighting…often stupidly, sometimes when he didn't have the energy to do so anymore. He'd lost count of how many times he tried to escape, as well as the hours spent trying to reach someone…anyone. It was no use. Whatever Walter had done to his brain, it had severed something. He'd always had strong mental defenses, but now his brain was a fortress, not just impenetrable but also guarded and laid with traps.

He remembered one night…although he couldn't recall exactly when it had been, that he'd been awake and thinking about another teacher. This time it wasn't technically one of his, although in a way she had been. He certainly had still learned from her. He was thinking of Cassiopeia and her archetypes. Raz had never had a reason to be anyone but himself…but lying there…his head buzzing not only with his own thoughts but also the outside things that Walter had stuffed into it as well, he realized that he had to come to terms with the fact that he would not be able to survive here…as himself.

Tank was as good a name as any. He hadn't come up with it, but it seemed right. He'd always been hard headed.

He had to give up a lot in order to get some of his freedom back. If he moved to quickly or took too many risks, he might lose what little freedom he'd won back but give up too much…take too much time and he might lose himself. It was a balancing act.

XXX

The rain became a drizzle, just persistent enough so that it was irritating. Tank pulled his hood up, but it didn't make much difference since the rain had already done its job on him. In fact, the only noticeable change was that the water that had collected in his hood promptly spilled down the back of his neck.

"What a miserable night," Princess said. Their feet sank and splashed in the mud as they walked. "Give me a sec, will you?" she added as she ducked under a portion of the building that was covered and made a show of taking her coat off and shaking the rain out of it. Some people at the KLC modified their uniforms. Like the nicknames, it was a last-ditch effort to maintain some level of individuality in a place where you were basically just a number. Princess's contribution to her uniform was to make it as small a presence as possible.

"Uh, we should really finish the rounds, that way we can get out of the rain faster," he said, while gesturing towards the path.

"Always so serious," she pouted. "Come, taking breaks is good for you," she added as she grabbed him by the arm and pulled him over.

Once under the shelter, he crossed his arms. The rain was pouring off the top of the overhang and pooling into a stream that was running into the mud below. He focused on this, perhaps with more concentration than necessary.

Reading minds was something that he'd been able to do since he was young and often by accident. Now that he had more control over it, he tried not to most of the time out of respect for other people's privacy. With Princess he took extra care to avoid it because her thoughts made him deeply uncomfortable.

"It's a little chilly, huh?" she said.

"Well, maybe if you put your coat back on," he offered awkwardly.

"Or maybe you could loan me yours? This raincoat is so flimsy," she said, while pulling at her hair. He frowned and rolled his eyes, although the latter was hidden by his goggles. Still, he shrugged off his own coat and handed it to her.

"Such a doll," she said while pulling it over her shoulders.

"Come on, or we aren't going to finish until after the next patrol is supposed to start," he said.

"God, are you really this thick…or are you just playing hard to get?" she asked as she closed the distance between them. He leaned away on impulse. She was still close enough so that he could feel the heat coming off of her. Not just that, he could feel something else coming from her as well…sort of like a mist, distorting the world, making it softer…more dreamlike.

"Are you…trying to hypnotize me?" he asked after a second. The odd shimmering quality of the air vanished, replaced once again with the cold and the rain. Much to his relief, she moved away. Instead of being upset at being found out, she smiled.

"Ah, those rock-hard mental defenses," she said as she pulled the hood of his coat over her hair and moved around him, almost seeming to size him up. "So that's one rumor about you that's actually true. No fun to do it that way, anyways. What about the other things they say? Any truth to them?"

"I've lost track of most of them…do you do that a lot?" he asked, frowning.

"Only with people I find interesting. And you are…" she said as she ran her fingers down his left arm, where his sleeve was still slightly pulled up from training, showing part of his tattoo. "-by far the most interesting person here."

Before he could pull his arm away, she'd moved her fingers to his wrist where his bracelet was slightly obscured by a glove but was still visible enough so that it had caught her attention.

"Hey!" he said as she tugged at it, pulling it loose.

"Hmm, this isn't really your style though," she said moving away from him and eyeing it. "You're more of the…tall, dark, mysterious type. This looks like one of those pathetic little friendship bracelets brain-dead nine-year-old girls make for each other."

"Give it back!" he said as he tried to make a grab for it. Before he could, she shoved it in the pocket of his coat.

"How about you can have it back, when you get your coat back. Unless you think you can make me. I hear you can be quite persuasive yourself," she said, grinning. He scowled.

"I'm not kidding, Deidre," he said, as he stopped in front of her and extended his hand. At the use of her name, some of the humor left her face.

"Struck a nerve, did I?" she asked. When he didn't reply, she rolled her eyes and pulled her hand from the recesses of the pocket, the bracelet still clasped in her thumb and index finger. He took it and started back down the path, tying it around his wrist and pulling his sleeve down. She sighed and followed him.

"God, why are the powerful ones always so serious," she said under her breath.

The last stretch of the walk was on the eastern side of the building where the beginner's obstacle course was. For the most part, patrols were uneventful. He rarely took part in them, himself, only getting involved when Walter asked him to…and that was usually after someone was caught trying to sneak out. Thankfully, that didn't happen very often. Of course, Warshaw occasionally attracted attention. Ghost Towns are inherently interesting to some and this whole area had enough of a reputation that even though there were signs up discouraging it, locals still tried to sneak in from time to time. They almost never made it to the base though.

True to form, the last stretch of the walk was also empty, well…almost empty. Edna was standing by the wall a little way from one of the entrances smoking one of her handmade rollups.

"Hey, old woman, you're not supposed to be out here," Deidre said. Edna grunted in response "Do you want to lose that sad excuse of a corner you sit in killing your remaining brain cells? Beat it."

Clearly Deidre's mood had plummeted after their last exchange.

"Relax, I don't think the school nurse taking a smoke break counts as an emergency," he said. "My keycard is in one of my coat pockets. You should go back inside; I'll finish the rest of this side."

"Oh, is that an order?" Deidre asked in a teasing voice. He gave her a look. "Still nothing? Hmm, well I do like a challenge," she added as she headed for the door.

After she left, he took cover from the rain next to where Edna was standing. A shiver ran through his body as he wiped at his goggles, which were fogging up slightly.

"You really shouldn't be out here," he said. "You know how seriously Walter takes curfew."

Instead of answering she produced a flask from somewhere on her person and took a drink before offering it to him. He eyed it doubtfully.

"What is it?"

"For the chill," she said.

He sniffed at it. The fact that his eyes began to water as a result really should have been all the warning he needed. Still, he risked a brief sip.

The circus had introduced him to a lot of things that most people would consider unsuitable for children. His family had often traveled with other ragtag groups of performers, sideshow oddities and professional stuntmen as they headed to small town fairs and festivals. Like his own family, most lived on a pittance and therefore developed some creative money saving techniques which extended to what they ate and drank. At one point they had traveled with a small group that had included a man who fancied himself a fire eater but had a nasty habit of setting his beard on fire and falling over during his performances. The man often had a flask of something with him. One time, his older brother had tricked him into trying it. He'd lost his sense of taste and smell for a week as a result.

This reminded him of that. He spat it out and reached for the bottle of water he'd had during training, only to realize it was probably still in his coat pocket.

"Eh, it's not for everyone," Edna said as she took it back from him, unfazed by the fact that he had shoved his sleeved arm into his mouth, to use the moisture that had collected on it.

After some of the burning stopped and he could feel his face again, he looked at his watch, then at Edna as something occurred to him.

"Hey Edna…do you have a keycard?" he asked.

"Nah," she replied.

"Then…how were you planning on getting back in?"

She shrugged.

"…Great," he said with a sigh.

XXX

Sasha snapped awake at his desk. For a moment he was disoriented as he eyed the keyboard in front of him and his computer screen which had several lines of gibberish across it because his elbow had been resting on the keys.

He stooped down to pick up a leatherbound journal that had fallen at his feet and placed it back on the desk. Before falling asleep he was going over notes from the experiments Walter had been doing while he still worked at the Motherlobe. Not that there was a lot to work with. It was nearly fifteen years ago and the Psychonauts didn't keep great records, especially in the early days.

Unfortunately, most wrongdoers don't keep careful notes outlining in detail all of the sordid things they've been getting up to. Besides, Walter wasn't an idiot. It was part of the reason he had used younger more undeveloped minds even back then. Apart from not having the mental fortitude to resist, younger people were generally more impressionable and above all…tended to be ignored or at the very least weren't taken as seriously.

He wasn't sure what the man was like now, but the Walter he remembered had used strong manipulation tactics to control his pupils. He'd been good at finding ways to steer people, using their desires, insecurities, past relationships, experiences and weaknesses against them. Psychically, Sasha's mind had been plenty developed at the time…but even he hadn't escaped the naivety of youth.

Like many, he'd joined the Psychonauts after finding he didn't really fit very well into 'normal' society. In the years after leaving home, he'd traveled in uncomfortable conditions and took odd jobs when he could. Since most reputable places didn't hire runaway minors, a lot of those jobs had been in dangerous conditions with very little oversight where he was mostly disregarded and definitely underpaid.

Eventually he found the Psychonauts. Or, more accurately, they found him. He'd always had a thirst for knowledge. He'd been interested in the science and mystery of the human psyche ever since his powers had first manifested. After coming to the Motherlobe, he was drawn to Otto's work, but Otto didn't collaborate much and had seemed inaccessible at the time. There was no intern program back then and, in any case, he was far too wrapped up in his own work to pay attention to some random teenager. Walter, however had been friendly, and more than willing to entertain his curiosity. He was an adult who actually seemed to pay attention and when he offered to make him an assistant, Sasha had eagerly accepted. He'd seen his thirst for knowledge and his desire to be treated like an equal and had exploited it.

The Psychonauts had its roots in experimentation. Pushing the envelope was not a new concept for them. Even now, some of Otto's work and indeed, his own could occasionally skirt the line of what many would consider ethical, but it had never been the goal of the Psychonauts to cause harm to others. Science was supposed to be a method to understand the world, classify it, make sense of it. People like Walter subverted it, twisted it into something else.

He closed the journal and took a few seconds to erase the nonsense on the computer screen before looking at the time. It was around 5 am, which meant he'd somehow managed to sleep for a couple of hours while upright. Sasha rubbed at his eyes and frowned as he realized he wasn't wearing his sunglasses. He eyed the top of his desk and then ducked underneath before finding them on his forehead and clearing his throat out of some embarrassment. For someone who prided himself on the organization of his own mind, he rarely fell prey to that sort of absentmindedness. Maybe Milla was right…he was probably overdoing it.

After turning his desk lamp off, Sasha stood up and rubbed at the back of his neck to alleviate some of the discomfort in his upper back, before leaving the little room.

The sleeping quarters were in the upper levels of the Motherlobe. He decided he would try to get at least a couple more hours of sleep in an actual bed before tackling any more work. After exiting the Otto-matic he lit a cigarette on the way to his bedroom and nearly ran into Lili as she was coming from the other direction.

"Ah, sorry Miss Zanotto," he said. He didn't ask what she was doing up this early, although he did take a mental note of it. Instead of accepting or echoing his apology, she shrugged in acknowledgement before moving around him. He removed his cigarette and let it hover. For a moment he considered letting the exchange end there. But he'd noticed something and decided to confirm his suspicions.

"Agent Vodello said that you're helping her go through the kidnap cases again. I would say it's unlikely you'll find anything new, but I've learned to trust her instincts," he said. She turned back towards him, resting a hand on her hip.

"It's been pretty boring. We've just been crosschecking the news reports with a bunch of the stuff the Psychonauts gathered."

"Ah…well good, hopefully you have something to share at our next meeting, supposing you decide to attend." he said, in gently scolding tones. He raised his eyebrows. Lili stared back at him blankly.

"Didn't you promise Milla that you would stop pulling all-nighters?" she asked finally. He cleared his throat.

"Yes, well…carry on," he said.

He continued to stand there for a bit after she left.

Sasha had never had much of a relationship with Lili even though she'd basically grown up in Psychonauts Headquarters. True, she'd gone to camp a couple times while he was an instructor there and had been present during their mission into the Rhombus of Ruin, but despite all of this, they had always shared very surface level interactions.

Although, when it came to it, he hadn't been especially close to many of the other children he'd overseen over the years either. Apart from Razputin of course, but he had been…unique. Of course, he'd seen a lot of himself in Raz, in his recklessness, his eagerness to prove himself, his talent…which had gotten him in trouble as much as it got him out of it. Unlike him though, Raz had been very personable. Like Milla, he'd had a warmth to him. His personality invited connection, whereas Sasha often avoided it and Lili seemed to actively oppose it.

Sasha sighed and briefly removed his sunglasses so that he could massage his eyes. He was too tired to think about this right now. His mind was too fatigued to properly sort through and organize those feelings.

The thing he had noticed while talking to her were the goggles hanging around her neck.

After Raz had gone missing they tried to use Clairvoyance on his personal effects to locate him, as well as other methods both psychic and scientific. Eventually they returned most of them to his family, except for anything directly related to the case. His goggles had been found abandoned several miles away from where the group had been sent. As far as Sasha knew, they should still be locked up in evidence.

He shook his head and put his cigarette out in a nearby ashtray.

XXX

When she was younger, her garden had been the place that she went when she was upset or angry or even just wanted to be alone, which admittedly had been most of the time. She'd always felt most like herself there. People…they were too much work. People were messy and confusing. They said things that were different than what they thought and felt things they didn't say and sometimes didn't even understand the things they felt. But plants…plants were easy. They didn't lie, they didn't cause unnecessary drama and they didn't expect you to be anything other than yourself.

Her garden had been very important to her. It was also the last place she ever talked to Raz. She'd tried to keep going after…but it had been different…less peaceful…less simple. Looking back, maybe it was more than that. Her garden had always been a place where she could sort through things. Maybe one of the reasons she'd stopped going was because part of her hadn't wanted to feel better about Raz's disappearance.

But after her conversation with Milla, she decided if there was any place that she could figure out the nightmare, it was her garden. It would probably take some work though…after so much neglect.

After she got to the top of the plateau, fully expecting either an overgrown mess, or else a barren flat of dirt and mud and weeds, she was surprised to see that it wasn't that bad. It was a little overgrown, but not nearly to the extent that it should have been. The one thing that was there in excess were the vines: thick thorned things that hadn't been there before.

Lili's hand hovered near one that was blocking her way forward as she closed her eyes. Plants didn't think, per say, given that they lacked a brain and nervous system. Ordinary science had long ago shunned the idea that plants could feel…but ordinary science tended to hold a very…stifling view on what could be defined as thought. Plants might not be self-aware or capable of doing calculus, but they were still alive and had an energy to them. They could develop preferences, even what could loosely be called personalities. Different plants had different energies. Some reacted more to emotion or intimacy, some could feed off of or into psychic power, some could heal, or hurt and although they didn't have brains like people or animals, they did have instincts. That said, all Lili could feel from this plant was resistance.

"Come on…don't be stubborn," she said when it became apparent it had no intention of being anywhere else but in her way. "Vines are pretty flammable, you know," she added. With this threat, miraculously…it stayed where it was. Lili scowled and instead of trying to coerce it further, pushed her way past it, making a brief sound of frustration when her jacket got caught on one of the thorns.

She walked into the center of her garden and frowned. Not only was it in better shape than it should have been, but there were flowers there that she knew she had never planted and that couldn't have possibly grown there on their own. Among other things, many of them weren't native to the area.

She kneeled by some chrysanthemums she was unacquainted with examined them. Before she could get too far into reading them, she was interrupted by a voice from behind.

"Ah, so this is where you ran off to so early."

Her father ducked under one of the vines and stepped over some thistle on the edge of the garden.

"Oh…hey dad," she said.

"It's been quite a while since I've seen you up here," he said with a light smile as Lili stood and turned towards him. "Hopefully those are all right, I didn't know if you're taste had changed or not," he added while indicating the chrysanthemums.

"Oh yeah…they're fine. You've been coming up here…and…planting things?"

"Well, I thought you would want to come back to it someday. I know I never had the uh…flair that you or your great uncle have but I thought it would be easier than starting from scratch. I'm not sure where the vines came from, though…can't seem to get rid of them."

"Right…thanks dad," Lili said, a touch awkwardly. "How did you know I was here?"

"Jerrod said he saw you leaving. You know you really shouldn't be wandering too far from Headquarters, not by yourself."

"I can literally see it from here. Also, tell Jerrod that if he doesn't mind his own business, I'll shove that tie he loves so much down his throat," she said. She had gotten up this early specifically to avoid running into other people. Did ANYONE at Psychonauts Headquarters sleep?

"You know my feelings about threatening the employees, Lili," he said, his voice taking on slightly scolding tones. "I suppose I don't see any harm in you being here as long as your careful. Just try not to go much farther than this."

"You really think they'd even come this close?" she asked as she sat back down and folded her legs.

"One of them got close enough to try and recruit that…boy…uh what's his name…you went to camp with him?"

"You mean Bobby? He's an idiot, they both are." Lili said, shaking her head and occupying herself with pulling some of the dying leaves off of a nearby poppy.

"It doesn't hurt to be cautious, Lili."

He was quiet for a moment, while he looked over the garden. "I'm glad you've…decided to come back up here," he said, finally. She could practically hear the subtext.

"Yeah, well…I just figured now was as good a time as any, I guess," she said dismissively.

"Things have been hectic lately, of course…so I haven't gotten a chance to come up here in the last couple of months. If you'd like, I could help you clean it up, maybe we can even figure out how to get rid of these vines…although I have to say…they do seem a little…territorial."

Lili frowned and bit at the inside of her lip.

"Thanks, but…I kind of…want to do it on my own."

For the second time in the last couple of days, she felt a twinge of guilt when she saw the disappointment on his face. Still, if this was going to be her psychic place again, she needed it tuned to her psychic energy. Her dad meant well, but plants could be very sensitive to the minds that tended them and the last thing she wanted seeping into the garden while she was trying to focus on tapping into the weird nightmares, was a lot of extra feelings and worries. She'd have enough trouble keeping her own from interfering without having to worry about someone else's.

"Of course," he said. "Well, if you change your mind…you know I'm here."

After he left, she pushed aside any lingering guilt she was still feeling and closed her eyes.

XXX

For much of the night Stephen had been unable to sleep because he was dreading the thought of having to face Tank. To be fair, he'd dreaded every day at the KLC since he arrived. Tank had been tied up in those fears somewhere, along with the rest of the elite agents, although the last couple days had complicated that a little. He was still afraid of him, but when it came down to it, Stephen was a little afraid of everyone…even if it was just the fear of a chronic introvert who found the prospect of talking to people to be a bit of a struggle. This was different though. A lot of his anxiety now came from uncertainty. He didn't know what to expect anymore.

But when he got to the training room…Tank didn't say anything. He just directed Stephen back into climbing exercises and they carried on that morning as if nothing had happened. Stephen knew he should have been relieved, but if anything, it made him more anxious.

By being out after curfew last night, he'd broken the rules. If you broke the rules, you got punished. It was practically drilled into every cadet's brain that this was the case. Beyond that, he was pretty certain that someone who kept their face hidden basically all the time and trained on their own after hours probably didn't want to be disturbed. He knew that Tank knew that he had been there. He didn't know why the older boy had helped him instead of turning him in.

Because of all this uncertainty, his nerves were getting the better of him. Otherwise, he might have been more prepared when he was halfway up the rope and Tank spoke to him, levitating about a foot away.

"You should get a better grip on the rope with your feet, it'll take some of the pressure off of your arms."

He shouted and promptly fell backwards and probably would have hit the ground headfirst if the older boy hadn't caught him with telekinesis.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," Tank said as he lowered Stephen onto his feet.

"I don't…I don't think I was going to get much farther anyways," Stephen said. The older boy frowned.

"You shouldn't be so hard on yourself," he said. "Look, I know it's not easy, but I think if you tried to think a little more positively, you'd be surprised at how much of a difference it would make."

It was exactly these kinds of sentiments from the older boy that threw Stephen off. It was almost…cheesy, or at the very least groundlessly optimistic. It didn't fit with the mental image he had of Tank.

"But…I'm not…I'm not getting any better," he replied, while looking at the ground. After a moment he looked up. Tank tilted his head a little.

"About how far up the rope would you say you usually get out on the obstacle course?" he asked after a few seconds of thought.

"Uh…I guess…halfway maybe…" Stephen said warily.

"And you're climbing about halfway up a lot of the time in here," Tank said while resting his elbow in one hand and his chin in the other.

"I guess…" Stephen said awkwardly when it became clear that some response was expected of him.

"But…this rope is twice as high."

It took a second for Stephen's mind to come up to speed. When it did, he felt his face redden a little.

"Oh…"

He himself had commented on the fact that the rope was much higher only three days prior. True, he'd barely paid attention to how high he was climbing…just that he wasn't making it to the top. Instead of pride at this revelation…he felt embarrassed for being so hopeless that Tank needed to point it out to him.

"You can do this…but you have to believe that you can," Tank said. "If you keep thinking of it as impossible, then it's not going to matter how high the rope is."

"I guess…I'm not very good at that," Stephen mumbled.

"Well, we'll just have to work on that too," Tank said with the hint of a smile. "It's getting close to lunch, let's take a break. When you get back, we'll try psi-punching stuff again."

Stephen frowned as the older boy turned away and began untangling the target dummies from the mess of the storage closet. He'd spent hours in bed agonizing over the previous night. Now that it had gone unaddressed, he knew he should be content with the fact that he was apparently being let off the hook for it, but it was still bothering him, even so.

Well, it wasn't as if he were in any hurry to get to lunch anyways and he was definitely in no hurry to see the Nose again…it had been a stroke of pure luck that he'd managed to avoid him at breakfast.

He sighed. Perhaps part of him liked making his own life more difficult.

"Uh…I just…I mean I wanted…I just wanted to say…sorry," Stephen said, approaching the older boy and playing with his fingers nervously. "About last night and for seeing you…I didn't mean to…I mean…I'm sorry."

Tank paused and turned back towards him, then cast a brief look at the door, which unlike previous mornings, had remained propped open. For a moment the older boy looked slightly uneasy as he set the target dummy aside and replied in cautious tones.

"It's okay, but listen, you HAVE to be more careful. You can't just go wandering around the grounds at night. It isn't safe here."

"I know…I didn't mean…I just…sorry," he said again, looking at the floor. He noted 'it isn't safe here' if only because it struck him as an unusual thing for the older boy to say, or at the very least an unusual way to say it.

"What were you even doing out there?" Tank asked.

Stephen had resigned himself to an apology. He did not, however particularly wish to go into any details about why he was outside the night before. He had many reasons why he didn't want to share the information. One reason was the desire to not provoke The Nose any more than he already had, although at this point it was hard to say what more he could do to him. That wasn't the only reason though. As much as Stephen disliked him, the idea of ratting him out and the consequences that might come from it made him uncomfortable.

"I…I just got locked out," he said finally. Tank frowned and eyed him for a moment, before shaking his head and shrugging.

"…okay," he said, much to Stephen's relief. "Just…try to be more careful."

"Um…" Stephen said as Tank started to turn away again. "I…uh…also thank you…for saving my life," the last came out in a rush.

"Well…I mean…I wouldn't go that far. I don't think Deidre would have actually killed you…turned you in maybe. She's more into manipulation then outright murder…" Tank said.

"I m-meant for the other night…t-the fire" Stephen said, aware that his disjointed thank you/apology was not going the way it had when he'd run it through his own head. Although a thank you for the night before was also definitely in order because among other things, he hadn't yet been able to determine why the older boy had done what he had. Elite agent or not, wouldn't Tank have also gotten in trouble if he'd been caught helping him?

"Oh," Tank said, clearly having to restructure his thoughts to be more in line with this fragmented exchange. "Sure…no problem, Stephen." It looked for a moment like he was about to say something else related to this, but apparently decided against it.

XXX

When he got to the cafeteria, Stephen looked around for the Nose as well as any of the cadets that usually followed him around to make sure they weren't nearby before dropping his invisibility. He would have happily stayed invisible the whole time, but it was a bit impractical while standing in line for food.

He only half paid attention to the things he grabbed, which made for a strange assortment, but he was more concerned with getting through the line as quickly as possible.

Once finished, he turned in the direction of the corner where he generally sat and froze. The Nose was standing between him and that side of the cafeteria. He was backed up by the boy whose nickname was Shorty and a kid that Stephen didn't know well enough to know his nickname. It didn't look as if he had seen him yet. Stephen wondered on his chances of sneaking away but was too late. The Nose caught sight of him and nudged the boy to his right.

"Hey, Worm! Grab him before he can squirm away!" the Nose added to one of the boys. Stephen raised his tray a little, as if it might offer some protection as the boy whose name he didn't know grabbed at his arm. One of the items on his tray, possibly a vegetable, although in a color no vegetable should have been, slipped to the floor.

"We still have some unfinished business kid," the Nose said. "And you're not going to wriggle your way out of it this time."

"Look at his face. You gonna cry, Worm?" said the boy who was grabbing his arm. He was probably around the same age as Stephen. The Nose seemed to hang out with mostly people who were younger than him.

Unlike the other two, Shorty had gone silent and seemed suddenly less inclined to join in. He approached cautiously behind the Nose and tapped on his shoulder.

"Uhh, Nose," he said.

"Quiet, Shorty. Go make yourself useful and see if that storage closet has anything else to burn in it," the Nose snapped back, before adding to Stephen: "Have fun in the rain last night? I don't know how you keep getting out of…"

"Nose!" Shorty insisted again, this time yanking at the older boy's sleeve. At the same time the other boy, who had been grabbing at Stephen's arm, released it and took a step back, suddenly looking worried.

"What is it!?" the Nose shouted back, oblivious to this. Stephen noticed that Shorty was looking at something behind him but didn't have to wonder about it long before a gloved hand rested on his shoulder. He started and looked up at Tank who was looking at the other boys and smiling pleasantly, although you wouldn't know it by looking at their expressions.

"Hey Benny," Tank said, while stepping forward and pulling Stephen back slightly so that he was behind him.

"Uhh, hey, uh…sir…I didn't see you there," the Nose said, suddenly a picture of innocence. "We were just…uh…helping some of the younger cadets…you know…to their seats…so many dangerous influences…"

Behind him, the other two boys nodded in agreement before the Nose continued.

"And we saw uh…young Worm here…and thought…you know…it's our duty as higher ranking students to kind of…take him under our wing…"

"Uh huh," Tank replied dryly. "You know you're already in hot water because of the last time you decided to 'help' Benny. Maybe you ought to take a break from 'helping' and go eat lunch."

"Right…whatever you say," he said with just a hint of nastiness. He cast Stephen a brief look of pure hatred as him and the other two boys left.

Tank turned back towards him and examined him for a moment.

"Kind of an odd choice…but whatever you like, I guess," he said brightly, while indicating his tray. Stephen looked down, noticing for the first time what he had put on it. Most of it didn't look very edible…but nearly everything in the cafeteria fell under that category. He shrugged. "Come on, this cafeteria is depressing," Tank added as he headed for the door.

Stephen unfroze after a couple of seconds and followed him. He inadvertently caught the eye of a few of his peers as he passed them by, noting the way their irises swiveled back and forth between him and the older boy, like they were trying to solve an equation where some key elements were missing.

When they got out into the sunshine, Stephen felt an almost automatic rise of spirits despite himself. And this time his mood did not plummet immediately like it usually did at this facility, because he knew he wasn't going to wind up being tied up in a burning shed or dangling over a pit of garbage.

He looked up at Tank's back. The older boy wasn't wearing the coat he usually wore. Instead, he'd had a bag slung over his shoulder for much of the morning. Stephen wondered vaguely how many expressions of thanks were appropriate in one day.

There were a couple of beaten-up tables in a section of the yard that also had a small grouping of twisted and rotting trees in it. The tables themselves were further evidence that the fort may have been there for longer than a hundred years. They were heavy ancient things, made of oak and worn down by the weather so much that the tops were much lighter than the rest. Even a powerful user of telekinesis would have found moving them difficult as they seemed to have fused into the ground over the years. They would have been even more impressive if it weren't for the various obscenities, poorly spelled sentiments and acclimations of 'so and so was here' carved on every available surface.

The yard was mostly quiet at that time of day and these tables were rarely used. There was someone else sitting at them now, though. Stephen faltered slightly as Tank approached another boy who had apparently decided to eat outside. He automatically felt awkward about following him.

The other boy was poking at something electronic and only looked up when Tank sat down across from him. Stephen recognized him as Agent 16, or Pirate, as the other students called him, most likely because of the bandana he always wore over his shoulder length black hair.

Stephen didn't know much about Agent 16, except that he was good with machinery…like exceptionally good. Apparently, he could grasp the inner workings of most technology after taking them apart once and could make very precise changes to their inner workings with telekinesis. He was often seen with Walter or Tank, but other than that, he didn't seem to be very social. Stephen had never seen him in the cafeteria or on the training grounds, for example.

Agent 16 nodded to Tank and then his eyes drifted to Stephen. His expression was odd, not entirely friendly, as if he were uncertain what to make of him.

"Uhh…Cadet…152…wasn't it?" he said slowly. Tank motioned for Stephen to sit down, before turning back to the other boy.

"Stephen this is Jeremiah, Jeremiah, Stephen," Tank said as he began to dig into the contents of his bag, ignoring the uncomfortable look Agent 16 gave him.

"Yeah…hi…but you never heard that name…because you're not supposed to know it," he said while putting his hand down on the table and directing a faint glare at Tank. Stephen just nodded and began to poke at his food, looking for something he wanted to eat.

After a while Tank spoke again in even tones.

"Relax, it's barely even a rule..." he said. Stephen looked up from his lunch. Tank was looking at Pirate who was still watching him with a troubled expression. The other boy's eyebrows rose slightly, as though he were trying to make a point. "You're just being paranoid."

There was more silence in which Tank had pulled out a bottle of pills and set them off to one side.

"You don't even like your nickname, I mean, you'd think it would have something to do with technology," he continued, sounding as if he were arguing a point that hadn't been made. Stephen caught Jeremiah's gaze and looked back at his tray quickly. "I mean, it's like if someone started calling me 'goggles' or like if someone looked at Cadmus and started calling him 'evil bastard' it's not exactly clever, it's just making an observation."

"Hmm," Pirate said finally. "I do like 'evil bastard.' Like it or not, the nickname is protection. You should know that better than anyone. Maybe you should be more paranoid…Tank," he said as he put the electronic device in a large pocket of his ragged coat and leaned forward on the table. "I'm not saying it isn't a good trick. Feeds well into the rumors. Makes people uncomfortable."

"It's not meant to," Tank said, frowning. "Huh, like I need any more rumors about me around this place," he added, slightly below his breath.

"Speaking of rumors, I hear you're dating Princess now?"

"What? No!"

"Well, that's what she's been telling everyone. Would be less convincing if she wasn't wearing your coat."

Tank let out a long-exasperated sigh as Pirate stood up and reached into another pocket. He pulled out a keycard and handed it to Tank.

"Here, you can return it if you ever manage to get yours back. I don't use it much anyways. I built a specialized lock for my office," he said. Stephen felt his gaze briefly pass over him again before he added in a much lower voice: "And remember what I said before about not pissing…certain people off…you know how you get sometimes…you fall into…old habits."

Even though Pirate had made Stephen uncomfortable, he didn't find himself much more comfortable after he left. At least when someone else was there he didn't have to worry about thinking of something to say.

Tank had gone mostly quiet, turning the bottle of pills over in his hands in what seemed to be a way to occupy them more than anything else.

Occasionally as Stephen picked at his food, he cast surreptitious looks at the older boy. He was trying to work out something to say that wouldn't sound stupid or boring, or indeed, if conversation was even wanted currently. Eventually he decided it was a lost cause anyways and instead began to think over the conversation Tank and…Jeremiah? Pirate was Jeremiah…he thought about the conversation they had had.

He hadn't understood most of it. The other boy had spoked as if he weren't even there and some of the things Tank had said seemed to almost be without any provocation. He was wondering about something though. Actually it had been something he had been wondering ever since Tank had rescued him from the burning storage room.

"It's because they're easier to remember," Tank said, startling him out of his thoughts.

"H…huh?" Stephen said.

"You were wondering why I use everyone's name instead of their rank or nickname."

"Uh…yeah…I thought…I thought we weren't allowed to use them," Stephen started. "H…how did you…"

"I can read minds," he said "Names are easy. They're surface stuff."

"S-surface stuff?" Stephen asked after a moment. He knew that there were psychics who were telepathic and that most people who possessed an inherent psychic ability could learn telepathy to some extent, but he also knew that really being able to delve into someone's head without help from something that could focus a person's astral projection was rare. One of the rumors about Tank was that he could mix people's heads up, drive them insane.

"Right, there are different layers to the mind. Surface stuff is like…when you think about saying something, but you don't…or you want to say something, but you can't. Basically, all the stuff that you might as well be saying out loud but aren't. That stuff is hard to shut out sometimes."

"So you can…you've been…" Stephen started as a horrible realization dawned on him.

"If you're wondering whether I constantly read your mind then the answer is no. Mostly I try to stay out of people's heads," Tank said. "People wear their names on the surface at all times, though…no matter what they call themselves."

So what's yours then? Stephen was surprised to find the question on the tip of his tongue. Something kept him from asking though. Even though the boy DID know his name…there were some things you didn't have to be a psychic to know. Knowing not to ask this question was one of them. What he settled for was this:

"So…h-how did you get your nickname?"

For a moment the boy was silent as he considered this. It was a little hard to tell with most of his face covered, but Stephen still got the impression that the question had made him kind of…sad, although he couldn't imagine why.

"I'm hardheaded," he said finally. "Armored like a tank," he added while drumming his knuckles on the side of his head.

"Oh…y-yeah…I heard about that," Stephen said, before he could stop himself. "People say that no one can get into your head…not even agent Kane." He said the last below his breath.

"Well, you shouldn't believe everything people say," he said as he twisted open the bottle of pills and dropped a couple in his palm. "I mean, the last time I checked I was also apparently raised by squirrels, am possibly a vampire or at the very least drink people's blood and grew up as some lizard person in a sideshow act. Most of that stuff isn't true."

"…most of it?"

"Let's talk about something else," Tank said, with what sounded like forced cheerfulness. "You said you liked to read…what do you read?"

Stephen frowned as he was suddenly put on the spot. This was exactly what he had been afraid of before, that he had nothing interesting to contribute to a conversation with someone who had so many stories and rumors told about him that it was amazing he wasn't being crushed under the weight of them.

"Uh…a…a lot of stuff I guess…books…and comics" he said while cringing inwardly as he mumbled. "Mostly fantasy..."

"Oh cool. I used to read comics a lot. My favorite was always 'True Psychic Tales.'"

Stephen looked up at Tank and for the second time that day, tried to make the mental picture he had of him fit with the idea of the older boy reading comic books. It didn't work…although it was slowly occurring to him that maybe this was because it wasn't an entirely accurate mental picture.

"I've read a couple of those," Stephen said after a moment. "Aren't they…I mean…don't those mostly…those are mostly stories about the Psychonauts aren't they?"

"Uh…yes…I mean…I think they were…you know broadly about psychic events in general…but the Psychonauts have been the most…visible…yeah I guess they mostly are," Tank replied before clearing his throat and changing the subject. "So, I'm guessing that was your comic that Benny ripped up the other night?"

Stephen felt a brief tingle on the back of his neck.

"Y…you know? D-did you…"

"You don't have to be a mind reader to put two and two together on that one, Stephen. Is he the reason you were locked out last night, too?" Stephen frowned and looked at his hands.

"It's okay…you don't have to say if you don't want to," he said after a moment, before looking at his watch. "Come on, we have a lot of training to do before nightfall."

Stephen began to pack up his tray as Tank stood up. He seemed to think about something for a moment before adding:

"And look…you know if you want to, we can eat in the training room or out here from now on…if you'd rather not in the cafeteria, I mean."

Stephen paused for a moment before nodding shyly. Tank flashed him a smile before swinging his bag back over his shoulder and heading back towards the building with Stephen following behind.