Jenny

Jenny scowled fiercely at the empty room. She'd been doing a lot of that lately. Most of her friends and family had come up with their own personal theory, but none knew the truth.

Things had gone steadily down hill as year by year no news came. And year by year she hoped on; more wildly, more desperately. And now she was close to breaking point; tense, uncertain, never relaxed. Unable to make friends or mingle with people. Lost in a world of her own.

Until she gave up waiting. It wasn't what Yasmin wanted, but she was past caring. She was going to start searching for her love, and not stop until she found her. But she knew were her search had to start, and the thought of it made her blood run cold. Psi Corps records. But that meant finding a MetaPol station and talking to the Psi Cops. She knew she couldn't do it. On their last evening she'd picked up Yasmin's fear of them; intense and unstoppable. Any telepath would be able to feel her hatred, her fear, her love for Yasmin. Maybe even Yasmin's reluctance to join up.

It was her one hope, though, so she took it.

---

The walls in there are so bare; and the Psis were everywhere, and the uniforms. The black Psi Corp uniforms.

Why the hell am I so scared? I never had anything against Psi Corps until a couple of years ago. They won't hurt me; I'm a normal. It'd leak out, and they can't afford that.

Unless they cover it up.

Taking a deep breath I tried to relaxed, pushing those thoughts out of my mind.

A young woman in a black Psi Cop's uniform walked over. If she'd read my mind she gave no sign of it. Her hair was scraped back into a tight pony tail; her very walk radiated confidence and power.

"Is there a problem?" she asked in a detached tone of voice, riddled with scarcely concealed contempt.

"I'm looking for a friend of mine. A telepath. She joined Psi Corp a few years ago, and never got back in contact."

My voice was quiet, but steady. I tried to keep everything important from my thoughts. Yasmin's feelings about Psi Corp; how she'd run from them; that we were lovers. I did not trust them to keep out of my mind.

"We usually allow our members to have a fresh start when they join. We don't like to bother them with past. But if you can give me your friend's name, her rating, and the exact date she joined the corp I'll see what I can do."

"I don't know her full name, or her rating. I never asked; she was always just Yasmin. And I think she joined up about three years ago."

"You've not given me much. I doubt I can find her with that little information. How old was she? Was she a later? Where exactly did she join up?" Came the brusque response. Not cruel, or even particularly unkind, but irritated.

"I don't know much." I sighed, placing all my trust in this stranger. "She was on the run, avoiding the Psi Cops. She got caught in this city, three years ago today."

"I could find her with that, I think. But I'm afraid you won't be allowed contact, not if she's been on the run before now. It's too dangerous." I was given a sympathetic nod. I could see a trace of apology in her bearing.

"She'd never hurt me!" I cried. I an moment of desperation, I practically shouted my thoughts at the cop. I'm not a teep; I don't choose who hears my thoughts, but I've learnt to control how loud they are. A little. I projected my absolute trust in Yasmin, my pain, and my love through the room.

"I can take a message." The young cop conceded nervously. "If you write a letter and leave it in an unsealed envelope, I'll make sure it gets through."

"I want to see her!" I shouted, my self-control shattering.

"That's not possible."

"Tell me where she is!"

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave." She murmured reluctantly, wearily.

"But…"

"If you won't leave of your own accord, I will have you escorted out." There was a snap to her voice. It became certain, dignified, and condescending again. "You can save your dignity if you like."

"I'm not going without answers." My voice grew dangerous. Quiet but filled with pure rage.

"This is you last warning. I did not have to talk to you at all; Psi Corps policy is not to allow normals in. This is a private space for telepaths." Such a level voice. So controlled, so free from any detectable emotion.

"Please…" my voice dropped to a whisper, "Please. I love her; don't do this to me."

"I am truly sorry for your loss. Go, now, and I'll make sure this is wiped from the records." The glimpse of emotion that had crossed her voice and face, a rare display in a psi cop, was gone again. She continued firmly, "Don't come back here. Others wouldn't be as lenient as me."

So I went, my heart breaking into a thousand pieces. One path was shut; Psi Corps wouldn't help me. That much was clear.

So I turned elsewhere for help. I turned to people I'd never have gone near otherwise. The Underground.