Title: In Cognitio
Author: Jintor
Author Notes: God damn. Apologies for the long wait, but I sorta got caught up in real life, school work, real work, Final Fantasy Tactics Advance, and Planescape: Torment. Sorry, sorry, sorry. I'll try and get the next one out as fast as possible.
Thoughts are sharable among those who have a close mental connection. This is deemed fairly obvious in the Psychic world (i.e. all of it) and is often ignored. What is also often ignored is what constitutes a close mental connection. Love and relationships are often brought up whenever psychoanalysists gather to discuss these ignored pieces of knowledge (1). Friendship and family are also mentioned, often.
People don't think about force. And violence, and other things of that bent. Threats are sometimes more powerful than friendships.
It arrived! crowed one, silently. It's here, it's here!
Silence, intoned another. We must work patiently. Much is at stake here. And if you don't shut up, I'm going to pulverise your brain.
There was silence. Of course, this didn't really mean anything.
(1) Which isn't often, because they're ignored.
XXX
A lot had changed since Lili had last seen Raz. He was taller, for one thing. The average 14-year-old was probably slightly shorter than him. His trademark goggles were slung around his neck, a black leather jacket casually worn over a green t-shirt. And he was… warmer, for one thing…
Razputin tactfully disengaged himself from the shared hug. "I really did miss you, Lili. You know that…" he said, smiling faintly. Lili hugged him quickly, once more, and reluctantly let go.
"What are you doing here?"
"Official Psychonauts Buisness." said Razputin, taking out a piece of paper from his pack. "Look - here - "
"From the desk of Truman Zanatto..." Lili read, aloud. "Official orders... 'Operation: Pax Mentalis?'" So the government guys and their naming systems finally got to dad, eh? "Thefts on the East Coast... highly sensative psychic equipment missing... government facilities infiltrated... complete psychic lockdown on surrounding area?" Psychic lockdown?
"All psychic power usage is being monitored in the East Coast Area," said Raz, lifting her thoughts from the front of her mind - as usual. "We can't get a trace on the unauthorised users, though. Cruller thinks something's blocking us. And I know something's blocking us."
Lili glanced back down at the piece of paper in her hand. "All thefts occurred within a 30-mile radius centred on Demure Academy? What? Suspect thought to be using Demure Academy as a 'base'? Who could do that and hide at a boarding school?"
"Quieter, not so loud!" hissed Razputin, gesturing at the piece of paper. "Look - the psychic interference is centred around Demure. The thefts are also centred around Demure. This isn't a coincidence, ok? There's some kind of super-secret-organisation behind all this! Or a single, powerful, psychic individual. Whoever it is, they know what psychics are. They're probably one themselves. And they're hiding here, Lili, here at Demure Academy!"
"But how could - oh, wait, the psychic interference..."
"Yeah, and there's some surplus equipment as well. We think about half the stuff is being used to power the mental blockades, but the extra stuff... we don't know. They could be building Mind Bombers for all we know. We've got to get to the bottom of this, Lili. Or the world - or this part of it - may be in some serious danger."
Lili glanced at the paper again. "Uh, i don't want to sound, pedantic or anything..." she said, "but couldn't the thefts, be, well, just thefts? And not this massive world-domination theory you've constructed?"
"No, we've got to treat it as one. There's too much equipment that has been taken for us to treat this merely as theft. The uses of some of those things..." Raz shuddered. "You wouldn't want to know. Basically, it's not just Mental Radios and Brain Tumblers..."
The codename caught her eye, once more. "Uh... why Pax Mentalis?" She asked.
"Peace of Mind" said Razputin, looking a little more serious. "That is the aim, that is the mission. We want to ensure peace of mind, so we're going to find this crook and -" he cracked his knuckles - "beat seven kinds of hell out of him, preferably the personal demons kind."
"How do you know it's a 'him'?"
"We don't. They've never left so much as a karmic signature. We can't trace 'em. Might be anyone."
Lili bit her lip. "So... what part, if any, do I play in this?"
Razputin smiled, and reached into his pack. "The same one I do, temporary-Psychonaut Zanotto. Your dad authorised your temporary promotion for as long as the Psychic lockdown persists. Here." he said, handing her a badge. "Take it."
Lili took it, and looked at it thoughtfully. It hadn't been the object of her dreams - Raz had been theshutupshutupshutuphecanreadmythoughtsshutup - since she had been about six, but still... she was an in-ter-national secret agent. She was a Psychonaut.
"Uh, just one thing, Lili..."
"Yes?" she said, examining the badge from a new angle. It gleamed satisfyingly.
"Can you show me the way to the boys' dormitory?"
XXX
A lack of embarrassment is a trait which few people should go without, but most do. It is a most prized and wanted possession in all the galaxy because, really, when you don't care about what people think of you you're pretty damn close to getting what you want done, done. Embarrassment is hardwired into the human body and nobody knows why. At what point along the evolutionary process was embarrassment neccessary? Are you required to be ashamed of being caught naked in a river when a tiger leaps out of the bushes and tries to bite off your monkey tail?
In any case, few knew why embarrassment was neccessary. Those that didn't were too embarrassed to try, thus demonstrating the fundamental principle that embarrassment stops you doing anything remotely worthwhile.
Ricardo Cortez was one of those rare people who sheltered a lack of embarrassment. He did, however, harbour a lot of foresight, and a hell of a lot of cunning, and thus saw to it that nobody ever saw that he lacked or posessed any attributes that he did not want anybody else to see. His lack of embarrassment, however, was getting harder and harder to hide - it kept breaking through the false personna. It was very, very annoying.
"Hey! New Kid... whatsyername... Cortez! Get out here!' someone shouted outside - Mr Sheil, the teacher in charge of rooms and dorms and such, judging by the sound of the foghorn voice. Ricardo sighed and dropped the little screwdriver at the foot of his bed as he made his way outside.
He emerged on the other side of the doorway, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the light. A large man, standing straight and tall, suddenly appeared as his eyes managed to focus. Ricardo took a step back - you always forgot to adjust for Mr Sheil and the way he dominated the landscape, no matter what it was. Another boy, probably about 13 or 14 years old, stood next to him. Mr Sheil pushed the kid forwards.
"Mr. Cortez?" barked Mr Sheil. According to some kids in the nearer dorms, he had never learned to control his voice very well. "This is your new roommate. You got that, Cortez? Room-Mate. Sharing. Your. Room. With this kid, here. Dante, Ricardo." he added, motioning for them both to shake hands.
The other kid - Dante? - raised a leather-gloved hand out, and Ricardo reached out and shook it. Mr Sheil grinned slightly and moved towards the exit. "He got here late, and his luggage is going to be even later. You two report to my office tommorrow after breakfast; I've got to help you kids settle into this here school. Explain that to him, Dante, I don't have time right now." he growled over his shoulder.
As he reached the doorway, he glared around the room. "And the rest of you kids... listening at the doors... make them feel welcome, OK?" He cracked his knuckles. A sudden flurry of rustlings at each of the doors meant that his message had been received. The big teacher nodded once and clambered outside, leaving Ricardo and Dante staring at each other.
"Uh..." said the other kid, breaking the awkward silence. "...Which room is ours?"
"That one" grunted Ricardo, pointing a thumb at a nearby doorway marked 'XII'. He noted down the interestingly windswept hair, the pair of goggles hanging fashionably off his neck, a leather jacket, pants and gloves - all evidence of the more material kind pointed towards another rich kid sent to Demure to learn basic arithmatic and to get their social climbing done sooner. But there was something else... something in the eyes...
"Why the goggles, Dante?" he asked. The kid was already inside the room, flicking on the light switch.
"That depends." Ricardo heard him say as he sat down on an empty bed in the corner. He was flicking something up and down. "Why the screwdriver, Ricardo?"
XXX
Raz looked around the room, intrigued. It was new - to both of them, because Ricardo was new as well, according to that Sheil guy - but already shown signs of use; blue-tac and bits of posters hung from the walls. The beds and stuff were pretty clean, and the carpeted floor wasn't stained or dirty, but the room still gave off the slight impression of dampness. A couple of colourful posters - Raz couldn't read the writing - dominated the wall nearest Ricardo's bed. A little screwdriver and gizmo lay on the bed itself, looking sparkly and interesting. He reached for them, but Ricardo scooped them up before he could get anywhere near it.
"Leave my things alone, Dane," he growled "and you and your things will be left alone." He muttered something to himself as he knelt down and stuffed the gadget into a pack.
Raz shrugged. Fair enough. Other people's stuff was other people's stuff, and he wasn't picking up and psychic residue around anyhow. He dropped his pack by a bed, dumped his jacket and goggles in a pile of sorts, and vaulted onto the bed.
Bad move, he realised. The bed was as soft as...
...water.
Ricardo watched with interest as Raz leapt a full 3 feet in the air off the bed.
