Secret personal files of the Arrow Squad

Eva Milhaud:

Main designation: Tp 9.8

Secondary designations: S 7.4, Ps 2.3, Tk 3.0

Active service since 01.06.2046

Overall success rate: 98%

Relevant collateral damage: 11%

Current Missions: FF-7346

-Collecting information on the activities of the Forgotten in Nice, France

-Identifying possible targets for critical hit

-Covert elimination of identified targets

13.2.2053:

Last reports from current mission show a decline in relevant information – delayed elimination of confirmed target again – examine mental stability and conditioning at next check-up.

04.04.2053:

Medical check-up – no signs of mental instability, no signs of fractured conditioning – report confirmed two more individuals as targets for critical hit on local Forgotten community – instruction to eliminate targets given.

Chapter 2

Kaleb went through the mental file for the third time, making sure he had missed nothing. Allegedly because of the destabilizing political conditions, the Arrows had offered him a Psy-shield specialist to increase his personal security. That seemed a little odd, but he did not have their loyalty for long. Maybe such offers were a benefit he was entitled to have now. He had been inclined to refuse, when he learned that the suggested Arrow had a genetic disposition to partially reject the Silence Protocol – some human genes in her DNA profile. This usually meant instability and he tried to avoid that whenever he could. But when he learned that with it came an unparalleled ability to shield against any Psy power on a cardinal level, the outlook of such unique skills at his disposal had intrigued him. True shields were rare. Usually the S Designation was an addition for those who could either use their main designations of telepathy or telekinesis as exceptionally strong shields. A true S-Psy could shield against any psychic power including telepathy, telekinesis and even the lethal X-fire.

And the offer came at a very convenient time. He had just discovered a rise in the very small but increasingly refined attacks on his personal shields in the Net that were very hard to track. Someone was testing his shielding. He had an idea about the origin of those tests but couldn't yet prove it. His fellow Councilor Tatiana Rika-Smythe had quite a reputation as a shield breaker and their goals had collided significantly over the last months.

Apart from that, he would finally get the chance to study someone who could obviously function properly despite a flawed Silence Protocol. Usually everyone like her would have been rehabilitated at the first hint of her defect. Rehabilitation was the psychic brain-wipe executed on those who dared to reject or break Silence. It left the treated with barely a trace of their former personalities. The living dead, was what the other races called them. But Alja's abilities and connection to the secret assassin squad of the Net had protected her from such a fate – which was even stranger. Usually the Arrow Squad demanded absolute Silence from its members, and for good reason. Most of their abilities required iron control to not be devastating, almost like his own. Only on his control depended the safety of the entire Net. And emotion disrupted that kind of control.

But maybe not always…Recently he had been tempted a few times to wonder if there ever could be a way for him to open up the vault of stone in his mind, the one he needed to contain whatever emotional impulse arose from his subconsciousness.

Probably not. He cut off the compelling thought at its root.

Kaleb had not felt since he was a child, his Silence absolute. Only once he had gotten one short taste of emotion. When he was sixteen, he decided to free himself from the conditioning his trainers – especially one extraordinary teacher – had installed in his mind. After he had truly understood what that man was making out of him, he had wanted nothing of him inside his mind. And that one fateful night after he had his final lesson, after he had gone one step too far down the path that this teacher had shown him, he had finally been able to free himself – at least partially. He couldn't act against the older man yet, but he was getting stronger and his control over his abilities was unparalleled in the Net. So they had enough of a stalemate that Kaleb could finally risk to refuse to attend any more of the Councilors extracurricular activities, while he kept playing the part of the grateful student otherwise, using all the connections and resources he could get through his powerful patron.

So the first thing he had done after he had eluded the direct influence of Santano Enrique, was to unravel the constraints and traps of dissonance that the killer had added to the usual conditioning to ensure he would stay in iron control of his deadly powers. But as soon as he had caught a glimpse of what awaited him in the world of the feeling, he had known that for him there would never be a way back to allowing emotion: for him there was only pure darkness. After what he had witnessed throughout all his childhood, madness was all that awaited him.

That had also been the day he had almost fallen prey to the DarkMind, the evil twin of the NetMind that consisted of all the fear, hate and anger those of his race didn't allow themselves to feel. The NetMind, a neosentience that lived only on the psychic plane of the PsyNet, acted as the librarian and guardian of the Net, fulfilling various functions in the psychic network of millions of minds, not all of them understood or even known. Even less was known about the DarkMind. The current theory was that it harbored the Psy's negative emotions suppressed by the Silence Protocol. He had known that dark entity since he was a child. It was as if it was drawn to him by the evil around him and the massive amount of fear and hatred, Kaleb had silenced over the years. And that night it had lunged at him as if to feast on the twisted emotions it found inside of him, wrapping oily tendrils of madness around his mind. But instead of allowing the darkness and the intruder it had attracted to control him, he had built his own cage of conditioning, an even tighter one than that of his teacher, to keep the madness contained. Since that day he had an even deeper connection to the DarkMind, one that allowed him to partially command it. But was also a constant reminder of the cracks in his sanity as well as the ones in his conditioning, he had to keep closed tightly forever for the sake of the Net.

The other side of emotion he had never known. He had no concept of beauty, love or goodness. The only connection he had left to emotion was through the tainted, oily presence of the DarkMind that sought him out so often.

He pushed these thoughts away as he always did and focused on Alja Dardo's file again. The Arrow they were sending him would be an interesting asset to integrate in his power games. And if it somehow turned out to be a trap, he would find a way to use it back on the one who set it. Not trusting anyone was something he had learned early in life.

Alja had received the confirmation of her mission via e-mail in the morning and had packed her few belongings after a short breakfast that consisted of the usual nutrition bars. She had been in one of her safe places in Spain after her last mission and had taken an early flight to Moscow. Now she was as ready as she could be to meet the maybe most dangerous and powerful man on the planet. And paradoxically her task was to protect him.

At least that was the pretense under which she came here, to meet a man she had never seen in person before and yet probably knew him better than most other Psy. She had made sure of that the moment she learned her assignment with him had been discussed by her superiors, having her own very exceptional ways to get information that was considered to be buried too deep in the Net to find. And strangely enough the special friend who provided her with such information had not only shown her everything she needed to know about him, but had also given her an unmistakable hint to trust him. Given he was considered ice cold, ruthless and absolutely lethal by most, this advice was a very strange idea and she still mused about the implications of what her special friend had meant by giving it.

But no time for that now: Arriving at the main building of the Krychek headquarters Alja went straight to the office on the top floor she was directed to and knocked without hesitation. Cool and efficient as she was trained to. No sign that she was not the perfect, Silent Psy she was supposed to be; her Silence appearing even better than that of almost any other Psy, because she was practicing it consciously every day to keep it – or at least the appearance of it – up.

The "Come in" sounded from inside almost in time with her knock. She was being expected.

Entering the room a telekinetic blow hit her. It would have swept any usual Psy, human or even changeling off his or her feet and right back out of the office. She only felt it brush over her shields, which partly absorbed the power and partly deflected it into the empty corridor.

The Councilor wasted no time.

Alja realized that without her immunity to any Psy ability she would have reason to be scared out of her wits by this man. But as it was and with the carefully practiced Silence, that was adjusted to the human genes in her as far as possible, only a slight uneasiness about the confrontation with such power remained.

Kaleb saw not a hint of surprise on her face. She must be quite well conditioned despite her flawed genetics or very experienced to have expected the unannounced probation. Probably she was both. Good.

Quickly he assessed her physical appearance, not making the mistake of ignoring it like so many of his race did. She was dressed all in black, the unofficial uniform of an Arrow. The clothes seemed fit for fighting: cargo pants and a plain black T-shirt under an elastic leather synth jacket. She looked exactly as in the pictures in her file. Her complexion was Caucasian, although her dark hair suggested some Mediterranean inheritance as well. It was a rich, dark brown with a tint of red and way beyond regulation length even for Psy women. She wore it tied back in a tight braid at her nape that fell almost to her elbows. She was a little taller than average, medium built, her face just as mediocre: not to be considered unattractive by those who cared for aesthetics but with no features that made it stick out in any way. A face you saw and forgot if you didn't concentrate. This woman probably could stay under the radar with any of the species – given she could hide those night sky eyes that mirrored his own.

No, not exactly his own: His were an endless, silent void sprinkled with cold, still lights. The stars in hers gave a strange impression of motion although they didn't really move, like a night sky that was falling away into infinity. He found that those eyes slightly – irritated him. He did not have another word for the notion that came up in his mind at the restlessness in them.

Nevertheless they were a cardinal's eyes, indicating that her psychic abilities lay beyond any way of measurement. That brought him to the next question: Why had the Arrows offered him a cardinal shield as a bodyguard, and one whose very existence seemed to have been classified information to this point? He had never heard of her before. And his research in the Net had been completely fruitless although he had access to even the best hidden data sources. That itself wasn't so unusual. Most Arrows were mere shadows in the Net. Only she didn't even seem to have a shadow. She had even barely left traces on the reference missions that were listed in the application file from the Squad.

"Welcome Miss Dardo," he greeted her with a voice of pure ice, from a face carved in stone.

In the second between the Tk blow and the greeting Alja had taken in the room and the man occupying it. The room was nothing special; furnished with cool efficiency like any other Psy office, only a little larger and everything a little more luxurious than necessary – no doubt only to display the power of its owner. A large probably computronic desk stood in front of the opposite wall. To her left stretched a front of large windows, to her right a few shelves and two chairs on the wall.

The Councilor leaned against the desk, dressed in a plain, dark, gray on gray suit, coldly handsome. A statue of granite. The man fit the office perfectly – aside from the fact, that probably no furniture in the world could have matched the power his personality bathed the room in, even though his face showed no hint of emotion. It was all even planes and angles, pure maleness. Only those slightly too sensual looking lips gave him an appearance of humanity. You would expect them to smile any moment, but she was sure they never had – not genuinely.

Her senses screamed he was dangerous even without his Tk to affect her. But that was not new to her either. She stayed cool outwardly.

"Councilor," was her response to his greeting, only accompanied by a curt nod. It conveyed the message: no small talk necessary.

"I understand you came here right from the airport. Do you need rest or can we start discussing your assignment right now?"

"Now is fine." She anticipated a lengthy examination of her emotional flaws and the sooner this was over, the better.

She seemed short-spoken, even for a Psy. He would need to put on pressure in order to find out if it was just a mask. He signaled her to sit down on one of the chairs he quickly pulled in front of the desk.

He moved with such ease, she assumed he was using his Tk right now, but he wasn't so showy as to make the chair float in place. She had barely seated herself, when he began to speak again. To her surprise he did not start with the obvious – the genetic flaw that had led to an incomplete implication of the Silence Protocol in her. It only tensed her more. She did not let it show.

"Dardo is Italian for Arrow. That seems not a very creative alias."

While attempting at that little small talk he tried to locate her mind in the Net and found he couldn't, although he could sense it in the room. But even there she showed nothing of her power, the appearance of her mind was just ordinary; an average Psy mind with shielding that maybe qualified just above fourth grade classification. He searched for a way in.

"It is not an alias. I was born an Arrow and with those who know who I am there never was a need of any other identity. I don't know why they choose the Italian word. Maybe I have some Italian ancestors." That was an outright lie. She'd had another identity once. And there was hardly anything she did not know about herself. What had not been told to her, she had coaxed out of her very special friend. But no need for him to know.

"Let's get to the subject of your job then: First I have some questions about your abilities. In some point your file wasn't very specific. It says you can deflect any Psy ability that is directed at you and any object or individual you're shielding. It does not however specify how your shields work."

He did not take the invitation to ask about her flawed Silence. Damn, did he try to stress her on purpose? She was at the job for five minutes and the man already unsettled her. How was that possible? It wasn't as if she wasn't used to manipulative communication techniques. She was good at that game too. At least she could provoke him.

"The mechanism is based mostly on the otherness of my skills. They are different from usual Psy abilities. You will find no points to attack in my shields. And they are simply very strong. It is my cardinal ability after all. If you do not trust my skills you are welcome to do your testing more thoroughly."

She was provoking him. He let her believe it worked. His next attack was telepathic and he increased the intensity to show he wasn't playing. Any shields built by someone below grade 8 Tp would be wiped away by it leaving the victim but a scrambled mass of insanity.

She had a little more time to think when the would-be-lethal blow hit her shields this time. So she deflected the attack back on him without effort. That was what really had required training: Controlling the airtight shields she had been born with in a more useful way by deflecting and redirecting the power applied rather than shatter or absorb it at its impact.

"Your shielding looks ordinary enough," he stated. Only it should be gone by now. But the same ordinary Psy mind was wavering in the room as if his psychic attack had never taken place. "I appreciate a good camouflage as well. How can your abilities be of use to me?"

She imagined she heard a fraction of thoughtfulness in his voice. "My usual shields cover a sphere with a radius of roughly four feet. As long as you are in that range they cover your body and mind as well. I can expand them to about up to two miles if necessary but I will need to increase my concentration with the radius. No psychic energy can enter that radius without my active consent." He nodded to indicate she should go on. The first and single movement since they had sat down. She was careful to mirror him exactly in his immobility. "Unless I actively block it, you can initiate psychic activity inside the shield radius and direct it out, but still not affect me unless I flex my inner shields to allow it. I can shield your mind on the psychic plane too, but that requires skin contact." That was the main reason her Net-shielding was not often used by the Arrows themselves. Physical contact was something the Psy tended to avoid, because it triggered bodily responses that might too easily lead to emotion. She was curious how the very Silent cardinal in front of her would react to the suggestion of being touched skin to skin with another Psy. To her frustration he did so by changing the subject finally and most unexpectedly.

"The file also says your incomplete conditioning doesn't impair your work. But as you will be a crucial element in my security, I need to know exactly in what other ways it might show."

Ah, finally he got to it. She was well prepared for that part of the conversation. But she couldn't help but notice his choice of words: Incomplete conditioning – very careful not to insult her. Of course he didn't need to. Kaleb Krychek was rarely the man to make his resentments known through insult. He had other more terminate ways let people know if he rated them insufficient.

"The adjusted Protocol allows me to be Silent most of the time and contain any emotion that might well up under certain circumstances. So it only shows on the rare occasions when I need to valve the built up emotions. But it is not very likely I'll build up much. Working with the Silent gives very little reasons for emotions to stir."

"And if you should experience such a build up after all?"

Of course he wouldn't let it go. You didn't come as far as Krychek had in the power structure of the Net by ignoring possible risks like flawed Silence. It was a wonder he had considered the Arrows offer of her employment at all. "For that I have a differentiated set of mechanisms that do not involve any implications on my environment." She had almost learned that part by heart. It was crucial she didn't appear insecure in that area. "I integrated meditation techniques, physical activity and something I call human contact in my strategies of emotional and behavioral control. So if my quarters are relatively quiet and you have a gym I can use, it will be enough. The human contact I might need on very stressful occasions … I can clear it with you, when I go out, should it ever be necessary during my work here."

That was a very mechanic and simplified version of the truth, but it was accurate in the points that counted, and the only one technical enough to be understood by a true Psy.

Her capability of emotion influenced her far more than she would ever admit to anyone, let alone a Psy. It was an integral part of her being, of how she functioned, no matter how hard she kept it in check to act exactly the way she was expected to. That the adjusted Protocol enabled her to Silence had been another lie. The best it could do was dampen her feelings but mostly it consisted of harsh discipline not to let any of them show in her conscious or unconscious behavior. No need for anyone to know that. She was a survivor first. And she would survive for the task she had known to be hers since she had started to think.

"Human contact sounds like a very uncommon concept in the pursuit of Silence. It is usually considered to be rather a threat to the Protocol, even more so if physical contact is involved. Please specify how this is supposed to help in your case."

"The human contact is provided by talking to someone who generally understands the concept of emotion and can thus give support to weaken the impact of negative emotions. That way I also act out the emotions and release the tension. Physical contact is not necessary or desired. I only keep fleeting human acquaintances for the rare case I should need the emotional support." What she didn't say was that touch no longer worked for her. She no longer felt it on any emotional level. Paradoxically this was the one part of the conditioning that had stuck with her – in the end.

"Human acquaintances only or changelings too?"

How savage did he think she was? Changelings were simply uncontrollable. They were so raw in their emotions it always made her feel uneasy to be too close to them.

"No, changelings are way too unstable and too demanding for getting back emotional responses."

He didn't respond for several seconds, seemed to consider all he had learned so far. Or he just did it to pressure her more. She decided to go on the offensive. "Councilor, I do not want any misunderstandings in that area: You have only been given full information about my genetic disposition to reject the Protocol because of the trust and loyalty of the Arrow Squad. Not because any of it is supposed to restrict me in my work. On the contrary: my human genes provide me with a higher bone density and muscle mass than most Psy, which is an asset in the more physical aspects of my profession. And my Silence may be slightly incomplete. But I am a fully functional Arrow and I am very much in control of my abilities, as you have undoubtedly learned from my training reports and notes on my former missions." She was tired of being treated like she was disabled and decided it was time to show some spine about it.

He appreciated spine. And he was pleased to have her out of that short-spoken attitude so fast. So he let it go.

"Yes, your success rate is impressive although you have only been on minor assignments so far." Minor, meaning mostly information retrieval and very few kills. "But you seem to have quite a way of getting people to act like it suits your purpose. And a surprisingly high percentage of individuals that were somehow involved in your missions, were submitted to rehabilitation afterwards. That would inspire speculations about more aggressive telepathic abilities than just the shielding."

Wow! He had done his homework. He couldn't have that information from the reports he'd been given. They contained only rough descriptions of her former assignments, most of them having been top secret, so that maybe only Ming LeBon – who was in command of the Squad at the time – had the full data on the missions. Krychek had to have done excessive research to put together the bits of information and get out the conspicuous rehabilitation rates. But it was not enough to prove her direct involvement. She mused for a moment on the strangeness of how close he had come to uncovering her biggest secret with his speculations about invasive telepathy and yet how far away from the truth he stayed with them.

"I can assure you my telepathy is limited to the shielding abilities and a common minor talent for telepathic communication. These incidents you speak of are most likely not directly be caused by me. I do not always know what casualties were taken into account by my superiors." She knew that explanation wouldn't suffice. But it was the only one he'd get from her. He could try to unravel the rest of her secrets himself. Good luck with it! The longer she kept him interested, the longer she was safe. But with a slight uneasiness she noted that this man had already perceived too much. He might yet uncover the truth about her powers despite all her precautions. And she would probably not get a minute of rest if he decided to test and pressure her further on her abilities – the ones acknowledged and the hidden ones. Surprisingly he left it at that.

"No, of course not. I also value subordinates who understand the concept of a need-to-know basis. I look forward to our collaboration. Can we start with a demonstration on the psychic plane tomorrow?"

So he wasn't going to back down from the physical contact it required. Somehow that excited her more than it should have. "Of course Sir, whenever you want."

"Good. My personal assistant will show you to your quarters." At that moment a blond woman with eyes of piercing silver entered the room, undoubtedly on a telepathic command. "This is Silver Mercant. She will be your contact if you need anything. I expect you tomorrow at eight."

"Sir." With a curt nod she took leave of him and rose to greet the other woman just as icily as expected. "Miss Mercant."

"Welcome Miss Dardo. Please follow me." Icy Psy charm in every word and move. Alja did as she was bidden without glancing back, but with a feeling his eyes were on her back. "Your quarters are on the sixth floor. Is that all your luggage?" she asked looking at the small duffel Alja carried over her shoulder.

"Yes, it is all I require. Will I reside in this building permanently?" She kept the conversation to the most basic points, acting strictly Psy. Silent.

"Mr. Krychek ordered it, yes. As I understand it, you will be part of inner security. It is only logical to keep you physically in the vicinity."

"Of course." A short escalator ride brought them several levels down.

"Down that corridor is the gym you requested. You can use it whenever you need to. It is open twenty-four hours." Naturally she'd want a gym. As an Arrow Alja needed to keep herself physically fit. But she had openly requested it only minutes ago in her conversation with the Councilor. So he had already briefed his assistant telepathically. Alja wondered what else Silver knew. She was the perfect picture of cold Psy politeness. She seemed absolutely Silent. Did she know her new colleague was one of the very few beings in the Net who got away without that quality?

It turned out that her quarters lay only a few corridors away from the gym of the building and even had a small window. That was at least something. Aside from that, it bugged her a little that she was to live in the main building of the Krychek HQ. She had yet to get used to being in such an open location, exposed to constant observation instead of hiding her very existence and her otherness alongside from the whole world. And Kaleb Krychek's attention was the last thing she needed on her. But it was too late any way. Now she was on his radar and given his ability to teleport and the level of telepathy he was capable of, he could possibly quarter her on the other half of the planet and still breathe down her neck.

To her great relief at least Silver left her alone in the small two room unit after a short instruction about the proceedings in the accommodation unit. She'd also given her a schedule for her introduction to the security division for the next two days. The first meeting was set in two hours so she had a little time to accommodate.

Relieved she had passed the first roadblocks of her new situation, she let herself fall on the bed with a sigh. Probably a very emotional gesture, but after meeting one of the most powerful people on the planet, even a perfect Psy might need to relax a little. All in all she found she took it quite well. Being transferred into the lion's den for protection of the hyenas might be a strange strategy. On the other hand strange was her steady companion. She could handle strange situations better than anyone. She had learned early, that she was a being so different, she would have to be two steps ahead of literally everyone else to survive. And that was also, what made it easy: It wasn't just her conditioning and behavioral control that kept her fear and excitement in check. Since she was a child she had known she had a purpose in this world only she could fulfill. She was made for that task and the Net wouldn't let something happen to her. Maybe that was just a remnant of her lonely days as a child, when she had to cling to every hope to avoid breaking under the pain and hardship of the training facilities, but it still worked, still gave her some calm in the eye of the storm.

It took her only a few minutes to unpack her things, among them a set of willow glass blades that were hidden in the lining of her leather synth jacket. They were highly flexible, deadly sharp and went undetected through every safety scan.

An Arrow is never without a weapon.

The words from another time were reverberating in her head. Spoken in a lonely training hall where she had endured so much pain and yet learned everything she knew about the art of surviving as a lamb in a pack of wolves. Shoving the memory away, she placed three blades in her rooms so that they were hidden from sight but available if needed. One she strapped tightly along her shin before she removed the one on her forearm she'd worn before. Then she dressed in her usual sportswear and headed for the gym. After the long flight she needed to steam off some energy and get the flexibility back in her limbs. Usually they'd have gotten her a teleporter, but the unstable conditions in and outside the Net currently required all resources they had elsewhere.