Spikebreaker

Spikebreaker

  Gareth Lewis

  Copyright 2010 Gareth Lewis

  Jack ignored the pressure in his head alerting him to her arrival. She stayed quiet, and he happily did likewise, focussing on the road.

  Her presence had just begun to irritate as the dashboard's com unit beeped. He flicked the monitor on, and Captain Lee appeared.

  Rubbing his hand over his head, towards his receded blonde hairline, Lee stared hard over the thin rims of his glasses. "Crawford," Lee wasted little time with greetings, his tone stressed. "We've got a spike on Rosemont Drive, in the mall. Get over there."

  "Yes, sir." He steered the car to the next right, siren whining as he sped up. His current assignment, investigating rumours of rogue psychics, would likely prove unproductive, anyway. Still, it'd be preferable to dealing with a telepathic talent emerging in a crowded mall. Spiking was painful enough for isolated victims. In a crowd, the sudden influx of thoughts resulted in lashing out with bursts of psychic pain, increasing the crowd's agitation, which in turn increased the psychic's distress, a cycle which could result in fatalities.

  "Taylor's en route," said Lee. "But you're closer. The information's been routed to Ms. Cartwright. Call if you need anything." The screen clicked off.

  What've we got? Jack thought at her.

  It's a boy, maybe seventeen, Lydia thought back, her tone one of professional detachment. There're at least a couple of dozen civilians who didn't escape the cascade. It looks like he's currently in a lull, but they're in no state to take advantage of it. Regulars are holding a strict perimeter. The first responding officer got caught, and had to be dragged out.

  He have a baffler? Psi-bafflers, barely twice as thick as a handset, gave some protection against forceful psychic intrusions, such as could be expected from a spike. Not as much as a telepathic partner offered, and the bafflers carried by the regular police weren't as strong as those of SPI officers, but they usually protected against spikes. Long enough for the Specialist Psychic Intervention unit to be dispatched, anyway.

  Unknown, thought Lydia. But it didn't protect him if he did. According to Markham, Taylor should be only a minute or two behind us. Elijah Markham was Taylor's assigned telepath. Try not to be too intimidated by a proper detective.

  I am a proper detective, he thought back in a tightly controlled frame of mind. It's telepaths who don't need much training.

  So those weren't concerns about him thinking you're an amateur I saw skulking about back there? You're not afraid he'll arrest you for impersonating a police officer?

  Jack suppressed his initial response before it crossed his mind, and tried to calm his rising temper.

  Lydia continued before he could offer a calm response. It's understandable. He’s a decorated officer, among the first to be partnered with a telepath, and certainly the most experienced. And you're... well... here to keep your family happy.

  He gritted his teeth at her interpretation, but knew from experience that arguing the truth would just leave him more uptight. And I'm sure you wouldn't want to look bad in front of your mentor and secret crush.

  I don't have a secret crush on Markham.

  Well it's not secret, since I know, but...

  And he's not my mentor, he just helped me acclimatise to this life.

  He groomed you for your role? thought Jack.

  His head chilled a touch as she responded. He showed me how to do the job professionally.

  Does he professionally irritate Taylor like this before a hostage situation?

  It's not a hostage situation. Her thoughts sharpened. The boy doesn't want the others there, increasing his agony.

  Nevertheless, lives are at stake, so I need to focus, if you don't mind.

  Please, I'm sure it'll be an interesting experience.

  Her presence remained, watching his every thought, but he refused to give her the satisfaction of asking for a less invasive link. Instead he started humming.

  Don't, she thought.

  "Lydia, oh Lydia..." Jack started singing aloud.

  Don't start that. Irritation grew in her tone. It's one little tattoo. A moment later, a forceful huff washed over him, and the pressure in his head eased as her mind retreated, maintaining only a light link between them.

  As he turned onto Rosemont, the congregated police cars highlighted his destination. The posts on the corners pulsed with red lights, indicating they'd kill the charge of any unauthorised vehicle travelling more than a few metres along the road. His authority recognised, he received no warning buzz from his car.

  Pulling up near the assembly, he got out, popping the trunk. A thought drew Lydia to the forefront of his mind, and she scanned the area. Leaving her to it, he pulled out the padded suit, hastily donning it. The padding should be unnecessary with a telepath, but protocol demanded it, in case of telekinetic or psychokinetic abilities. Telepathic and kinetic abilities were rarely found in one individual, but it wasn't unheard of.

  Dressed in his street clothes, he drew a few curious glances from nearby police officers. Spotting the dark blue of the SPI uniform on his protective gear, they returned their attention to the mall. While the glances he received were mild compared to those telepaths got, they did irritate him. Even those in the Hive, the home of the SPI's telepaths, got viewed with suspicion.

  The trousers on, he replaced his regular gun with a tranq gun, and gave a quick check of the psi-baffler at his belt.

  Taking out a screamer, he checked that it appeared in working order, and that the timer was set at three seconds. The six inch diameter disc, around an inch and a half thick, it was primarily casing to protect the device inside when thrown at a target. When triggered, it emitted a psychic pulse which knocked out most telepaths who didn't have their minds closed. Brutal and blunt, it could be necessary with spikes. Tranquilizers were more likely to allow a final, powerful outburst, so with civilians endangered, screamers were preferred, despite their brutality.

  Reassured the screamer seemed operational, Jack grabbed the padded jacket and helmet as he shut the trunk, pulling the jacket on as he approached the main group.

  He's in a quiet phase, thought Lydia. But he feels fragile. I don't want to risk reaching out unnecessarily. Talking may do more good in this state.

  Jack said nothing as he approached the officer in charge, one of the few not pointlessly using a car as a shield. Some officers sent glances his way as he passed, but most focussed on the mall.

  Don't stare at her butt like that, thought Lydia.

  What? Jack's stride slipped slightly at the comment.

  Her response came in a strained frame of mind. That police officer you just passed, you were looking at her...

  I was not...

  Excuse me! I'm right behind your eyes.

  So she happened to be between me and the mall entrance when I scanned it. You realize your overreacting, don't you?

  He felt the disdain of her mental glare. The mall entrance doesn't extend that low.

  Fine. His eyes found another female officer.

  Stop comparing her to me that way!

  Then get your mind back on the job.

  The Captain nodded a tight greeting as Jack approached. "Captain Parker." Broad-shouldered, his dark red hair flecked with more than a smattering of grey, he didn't take his eyes from the mall for more than a few seconds at a time.

  "Detective Crawford, SPI," said Jack. "How long's he been quiet?"

  "Couple of minutes. I haven't risked sending anyone in since my officer was dragged out. No civilians out in the last five minutes."

  Jack nodded. "Your man have a baffler?"

  "Yeah." Parker ducked into one of the cars, emerging with the bagged remains of a burnt-out baffler.

  Jack examined the device, pulling
it apart too easily.

  "Captain Parker?" a calm voice approached them. "Detective Taylor, Specialist Psychic Intervention Unit."

  Jack glanced up at Taylor, exchanging a brief nod. He'd attended some of Taylor's training sessions, and seen him around the station, but they'd never spoken. His dark hair greying at the temples, as closely cropped as Jack's light brown hair, he moved calmly, wearing the uniform far more comfortably than Jack felt in it. Slightly taller, and a little wider than Jack's athletic build, he moved with an easy sense of authority, which Jack had to admit, although not in his surface thoughts, made him feel like a rookie.

  Taylor nodded at the baffler as he took in the scene. "Anything?"

  "Burned out. It's not the latest model, but the remaining circuitry appears in working condition. Looks like it suffered an overload."

  "So we're looking at a powerful telepath. Shielding's out, then." While telepaths could smother another telepath's abilities, it wasn't easy, and could only be done to a notably weaker telepath. Even with two telepaths working together, and Markham was one of the most powerful and skilled, they wouldn't know if it was possible until they tried, and given how jumpy a spike would be, failing to do so could exacerbate matters. "Okay, I'll take lead."

  Jack nodded.

  You're not even going to defend me.

  Sighing inwardly, Jack thought back. Do you think you could block more than Markham? The main reason for partnering SPI officers with telepaths was to provide protection from the psychic battering telepaths, especially newly exploded ones, could unleash. SPI training allowed blocking memories and deeper thoughts from telepathic probing, but surviving sheer psychic attacks required either a baffler, which only blunted the damage, or a telepathic partner.

  Lydia didn't respond, but her presence fumed.

  "You know tech stuff?" Taylor asked as he fastened his jacket, keeping the helmet in hand. Covered faces could be intimidating, and might freak the young telepath out.

  Jack returned the baffler to Parker and finished fastening his jacket. "Transferred from tech crimes when I was found compatible with a telepath." He donned his helmet, but kept the visor up.

  With a quick check of his own baffler, Taylor approached the mall, glancing back at Jack. "I'll try talking first, and Elijah will try calming his mind. If he’s about to spike, Elijah and Ms. Cartwright can try to shield him. We'll let them orchestrate that. If it doesn't work, we'll probably have to use a screamer. Our partners can warn each other when to break contact. Stay a short way behind me, and if he breaks through Elijah's protection and the baffler, use your screamer."

  Jack nodded as they entered the building. The glistening clean floors and walls, intended to be inviting, felt cold. He took up position a few steps behind Taylor, assuming a similarly calm, unthreatening posture, as their boots clunked over the faint background muzak.

  Their target sat amid a crowd of splayed pedestrians, the only one not flat to the floor. They radiated out from a sporting goods store. Hunched up, legs clasped to his chest, the boy's face was a picture of distracted agony. That he sat facing them, partly obscured by the shops entrance, made using tranq guns difficult, especially since they'd need to get close to use them with accuracy.

  As they drew nearer, whimpers drifted from the prostrate civilians, a few dazed glimpses meeting their approach. Fortunately, none made any move, probably too dazed to try.

  Taylor held his arms wide as their target finally focussed on them.

  Jack felt Lydia's tension, but kept it from his face and stance.

  Before Taylor could speak, a crack came from a street window.

  Jack instinctively ducked into a crouch, a glance showing him a small hole in the glass, cracks spreading from it. Agony slammed into his mind, dazing him.

  He shook it away, trying to work out whether the police had opened fire. He realized no sound had accompanied the shot other than the window, even as he noticed Lydia was no longer in his mind. A quick glance found Taylor on the floor, blood coming from the hole in his head.

  Instinctively yanking down his visor, Jack caught sight of the telepath's eyes widening in agony, and felt the force of his psychic scream, preceding the vocal screams of the civilians. His baffler joined in with a screech, pushing its limits. Grabbing the screamer, he flicked the switch and slid it towards the boy, even as his baffler sputtered, a flood of agony crashing against his mind as he lost consciousness.