Chapter Nine – Let the Games Begin

Brad's essay, written in his own blood (a stipulation he hadn't foreseen) read as follows:

The Psychics trained at Rosenkruez are Superior to Normal Humans in Every Way. Discuss.

Genetically, it can be said that those blessed with psychic talents are further evolved than those without. All of the talents, in moderation, are clearly designed to further increase chance of survival. As the world become more over populated and competition grows fiercer, it is these talents that enable psychics to come out on top in any fight. The mental talents also enable psychics to win intellectual battles by knowing more than their opponents, thus making us more prepared.

However, many talents take a physical and psychological toll. Physical talents can sap a body of strength and cause extreme exhaustion, while mental talents can cause headaches and brain tumours in extreme cases. Those talents dealing with foresight or hindsight also often result in loss of visible sight, or the intense weakening thereof. Psychological damage can range from brief disorientation to extreme insanity, depending on the strength of the gift and trigger that caused the damage.

While these problems may make some psychics seem inferior physically or psychologically to the average human being, a Rosenkreuz trained psychic should be aware of how to handle these deficiencies as they arise. With the strict regime and capable trainers, students at Rosenkreuz learn to overcome physical handicaps induced by their talents, and the environment is conducive to preventing the psychological damage. A formidable disciplinary system and 'survival of the fittest' mentality creates strong minded, loyal disciples of the parent organisation, Estet, who can cope with any eventuality and strive to further the glorious accomplishments of both Estet and Rosenkreuz.

Overall, psychics can be seen as superior in some areas, whilst inferior in others, to the average human being. However, Rosenkreuz trained Psychics are clearly superior, and will take their rightful places at the top of the world order.

He passed with flying colours, as far as he could tell. It was short but well rounded, and wasn't so obsequious as to be an obvious betrayal of his anti-Rosenkreuz sentiments. He also passed out, from the blood loss.

* * *

They brought him round before the battle. He was flattered to find out they'd even considered him worthy of a blood transfusion, once they'd read his essay. It did leave him a little concerned about the standards of the other students' essay.

He was told, upon waking, that a group of students from his year were trying to break out of Rosenkreuz and had begun attacking other students. They would lie and try to fool him, but he had to fight then regardless of what they said or did, for the glory of Rosenkreuz. Crawford bit back a smile. Of course, the students had to think it was real. And Rosenkreuz wouldn't waste staff or fully trained personnel on students.

Bradley was pointed in the direction of the Laboratories and he set off, finally able to allow himself to smile. Instead of heading straight to the Labs he headed towards the physical education section of the 'school'. He studied the racks of guns and projectile weapons, including a ground to air missile launcher. He settled on smoke grenades and the pistol he'd shot the other boy with, fully loaded.

He made his way to the Labs, not too slow, not too fast. Not too keen, don't too indifferent. He cradled the grip of the gin in the palm of his hand, revelling in the way it stole heat from hand and the way it reflected the dull grey walls in it's dull grey barrel. It was power.

The first student he met wrapped his hands around Crawford's throat immediately, and Crawford had no qualms about taking him out. The second student was a young woman, crouched against a wall. Unarmed, slender, a passive mental… she had no means of defence.

"For or against Rosenkreuz?" Crawford asked perfunctorily, knowing full well what the answer would be.

"For," she said without hope. "But those against would give the same answer," she sighed.

"I know, but I can foresee that you will be trustworthy," he said in a monotone. She stared at him. "What are you?" he asked.

"Telempath."

"Perfect. Can you sense others?" She nodded. "If I were to ask them what I asked you, would you be able to spot a liar?" She nodded again. "Good. Take these." She handed her the smoke grenades. She stared at them. "Smoke grenades," he explained. "We'll want to have someone to question to see if this conspiracy runs deeper."

The girl stared at him. She moved closer and murmured in his ear, "there's no attack, is there?" He shook his head minutely. "Thought so." She stepped back and stared at him. He returned the scrutiny, and realised with a sinking heart that she couldn't be more than fourteen. And she was a telempath, so killing would be very difficult for her. It would make this so much harder.

They met another pair further into the complex, twins, back to back. They'd got hold of a pair of Uzis, somehow, but had long since run out of ammo. Telempaths again, though the bond they shared between them was telepathic. Crawford cursed his luck, but made both of them carry a smoke grenade and demanded to know where they had got the Uzis. They led him to a supply closet, mostly empty now. Crawford salvaged some batons and a box of ammo for his pistol.

They passed piles of bodies as they continued on, and Crawford suspect there was at least one telekinetic creating them. He foresaw a pyrokinetic's attack and shot the young man, already badly wounded. Yes, there was definitely a telekinetic involved, perhaps a group of them.

The girl warned him as they approached the telekinetic, and warned that the young man would never trust them. He had, however, joined up with another pyrokinetic, a boy named Bran. Bran was actually still in his first year, but had joined in with glee when the telekinetic told him what was happening. Bran might be swayed.

The girl revealed she was an active telempath, but a weak one. If Crawford could sway Bran, convince him there was no fight, then the telekinetic might join them as well. Desperate to recruit a physical, Crawford agreed to her poorly thought out plan.

He sent the twins ahead, both unaware of what was going on. While the telekinetic killed them, Crawford snatched Bran and spoke to him in swift whispers. Easily convinced, the boy trotted back out and started to explain to the telekinetic what was actually going on. With the girl's persuasive influence, Crawford soon picked up two more allies to replace the twin's he'd sacrificed.

Crawford's immediate plan of action was to gather everyone he could find, until there were no more students, and convince them they'd wiped out the threat already. Failing that, he'd tell them all the truth, and risk suffering the consequences. The question was which would be seen as more blasphemous towards Rosenkreuz. Which would seem like putting himself in front of the institute?

The girl scanned for more fugitives. It dawned on Crawford he must have been out for quite a while, as about half the student population were already dead. She told him a group of healers were trying to get back into the main school.

"Quick!" he bellowed, for the benefit of the security camera. "They might be heretics. We must stop them before they can infiltrate the rest of Rosenkreuz and not only spread their heresy but damage out glorious institute." He paused for breath. "Yes," he told them loudly, "even at the expense of our lives must this plague be stopped." The effect was rather ruined by the girl's muffled giggle, but fortunately the hulking body of the telekinetic was between her and the camera, so their superiors might be convinced he was serious.

They made their way back towards the main building, moving to cut off the healers. Bran was so excited he left burnt footprints in the carpet, and Crawford resolved to send him back to lessons, or wherever he was supposed to be, as soon as they caught the healers and either killed them or joined them.

The healers were aiming for the physical education storeroom, as Crawford had earlier, and were easily cut off. None were armed, but one could work at long range, and the telekinetic doubled over in pain while Bran collapsed and the girl clutched her head. Crawford was not unaffected, but he ignored the pain.

"Cease this foolishness!" he called. "Are you friend or foe of Rosenkreuz?"

"Friend! And you?" One of them had presence of mind to call back.

"He's telling the truth," the girl muttered, in a brief respite from the healer's torture.

"We too are friends of Rosenkreuz. You must join us. Students are killing students randomly, without any way of knowing who is the enemy. The girl-"

"-Romani-"

"is a telempath," Crawford nodded his thank for her filling in her name, "and she can recognise liars from those who tell the truth."

The pain eased. The healers stared at them, suspicious and confused. "Suppose," on began, "suppose you're telling the truth. What then? It's a war zone back there. Why can't we stay here and be safe?"

Crawford ground his teeth. "You put your own lives before that of Rosenkreuz?" he asked softly, the menace in his tone plain even to the single-digit IQ telekinetic. There was a shuffling of feet and a general murmur of denial. "Good," Crawford purred. "So you will join us?"

Once Bran had been dispatched to lessons, against his will, they made their way back to the Laboratories. By the end of the afternoon, Crawford had rounded up 90% of the remaining students, and the rumour that there was no attack was in full swing. Not one of the students would dare suggest such a thing to their superiors, but to many it made sense. They'd killed friends and even family today, but no one would complain. That would be killing themselves.

* It is over. * A telepathic voice boomed in their skulls. *The rebellion has been quashed. Please proceed to the main hall in an orderly fashion. * The Czech telepaths voice was bitter and resentful, and Bradley remembered that he was only being kept alive long enough to perform this final test.

* * *

As Bradley sat on the achingly cold stone floor of the main hall, all of his earlier fears threatened to cave in on him. Most of the students had no idea what was going on, but they seemed a little more relaxed now the 'threat' was dealt with. There weren't many left. It was some screening process, this last day.

His insecurities threatened to overwhelm him as he waited to enter the tiny office where the telepath waited. Of course he wasn't completely loyal to Estet. His first loyalties lay with himself and himself only. Everything he'd done today would no doubt be considered 'blasphemous', despite it's outwards appearances. There were no secrets here.

But still, he had a lot to be grateful for. He could be in prison by now, or still on the run. His gift could have sent him mad, or blind. He did have some power, even if it was currently limited. He inspired fear in his inferiors, fear and respect. Even if he never left, he'd still have some of what he'd wished for. So maybe he did appreciate Rosenkreuz.

The door opened, and Bradley caught his breath. Hertz stepped out, and beckoned for some grunts to carry away the still warm body of Vladimir. Bradley's stomach flipped. They hadn't called a single student into the office, yet Hertz had killed Vladimir because his duty was complete. He'd scanned the whole hall while people were still off guard, including himself.

Crawford's mind went into overdrive. It was all a matter of timing now. He knew his shields were good; Vlad would only have picked up surface thoughts, and those weakly. But had he picked up the distinctly anti-Rosenkreuz grousing, or the grudgingly grateful mutterings? Either way, he could still be in for trouble.

Hertz wandered around the mostly empty hall, hands in his pockets. Most of the students still had no idea what was going on. Hertz took one hand out of a pocket, drawing with it a gun. He shot Romani, the healer who had suggested staying in the main school, another precog Crawford recognised from classes and several he didn't know.

There was silence, apart from the occasional thump as the cooling bodies slumped to the floor.

"Congratulations," Hertz said softly, the acoustics of the room echoing the word back and forth. "You have graduated."

Oh, this is so going to last much longer than I ever meant it to. I know what happens in the last chapter, but there's six years to fill prior to that! If it takes me nine chapter to cover two years, writing at an average of one every two days… Tell you what, let's really zoom through the next year so I can bring Schu back, okkei?