Kevin Curry
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Psychoprotective 19
🕑 Added 2023-03-06 15:01:00 +0000 UTCWith Anima Academy complete, Psychoprotective will now be updated every Monday!
Not only that, but this month I'm running a special promotion for patrons this month! I will be expanding the amount of chapters $5+ patrons get to see in advance! Specifically, for the next two Fridays (maybe a third, not going to commit to it), I will be posting an additional Psychoprotective chapter without accelerating the public releases.
I considered making it so that the $3+ patron would also get a smaller number of advance chapters... but I can't actually figure out how to do that. The early access feature just seems to make things public? If any of y'all know how to have different levels of early access, I'd appreciate some instruction.
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Tanya’s first thought upon waking from… whatever just happened was simple. “Did I die again!?”
After a moment of wiggling her toes and flexing her restrained fingers, she determined that her body proportions were wrong and her manual dexterity was far too great for her to be an infant again.
Why was she swaddled in cloth so tightly, though!? And what was that rubber thing in her mouth?
After a brief panic, Tanya determined what was going on with more acuity: She was inside some kind of box or basket filled with what felt like blankets and towels, wearing a straightjacket. The thing in her mouth was some kind of muzzle, not a pacifier. It prevented her from biting down, so she assumed it was meant to pair with the straightjacket in order to prevent the wearer from hurting themselves as well as biting the orderlies… which was also why that pool of drool next to her head existed. She didn’t think there was something worse than her imagination, but there it was. With a brief movement of her head, she also ascertained that she had some kind of headband with a cord attached to it, possibly some kind of medical scanner.
She spent a moment opening her mind in an attempt to detect others nearby, and determined that the box was constructed as a miniature psycho-isolation chamber, just as Agent Nein alluded to. The heat wasn’t quite as oppressive as she thought it should be, and there was definitely some ventilation somewhere above her face, but she flashed a light wave of cryokinesis anyway to make things more comfortable.
Why was this so… familiar? If you had asked her before how she’d feel about being put in a tiny box like this, she’d be sure that she’d be panicking. But instead… It was soothing. What did Agent Nein say? That she’d be comfortable? Ah. She remembers now. Back around her third birthday in this world, perhaps a few months before, she was new to her telepathy and had trouble shutting out the noisy thoughts of the children. It made it incredibly difficult to sleep, and back then she needed a lot of it. Still do, really. These last few nights, in the psycho-isolation chamber and in the throes of that derangement, have been uncommonly restful despite the consequences… So all those years ago she had to put effort into finding the most hidden, out of the way places to take naps during the day, and discovered that the best, quietest spot to hide away was… the laundry basket.
Miss Milla knew and could easily find her, of course. Tanya wasn’t so ignorant as to not notice that for over a year after the first time Tanya was woken up in the basket, there was suddenly always an available basket of clean towels, blankets, or sheets sitting in the far corner of the laundry room for naps that aren’t in a room with three little girls who scream every thought into the void. She only stopped because she stopped fitting inside comfortably, really. Well, that and she got better at not being a walking privacy violation. Listening in on people’s thoughts was for Being X. Come to think of it, it did make sense that the increased sensory sensitivity she’d been experiencing from Miss Milla’s intervention also applied to her psychic senses. There was an irritating bit of barely-there noise all over the camp, that she didn’t realize was aggravating her until just now.
Still, she finds that she’d have preferred it if her misapprehension about the muzzle was correct, so she formed some blade formulas around her fingers to cut… her arms… free?
Why wasn’t it working? She could clearly still use her psychic abilities, she did that just a moment ago. She tried to telekinetically remove the muzzle, but it was quite securely affixed to her head.
Now, there’s probably a perfectly reasonable explanation for this. There could be some kind of hypnotic suggestion that Agent Nein left behind to impede her ability to break her bindings. The headband could be some kind of pacifying hypnotic device that blunts the aggressive energy required to manifest PSI blasts and sharpen telekinetic constructs. It could be that she’s just too relaxed to pull it off, as while she couldn’t move, and she objected to that on principle, the straightjacket was actually quite comfortable.
That had never stopped her before, but seeing as she couldn’t think of anything right now that would convince her to stand up even if it was an option… except possibly Being X telling her not to, Tanya decided that the best solution to her problem was to just… sink into the warmth like it was a kotatsu during winter, relax all of that tension, and drift away back to sleep.
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“She’s dangerous.” Said Grand Head Zanotto, as darkness swirled around Tanya. Was she… projecting? Was this happening now?
“But controllable.” Agent Nein replied.
“We can’t afford that kind of collateral damage.” Agent Hollis observed.
“But the military can.” Grand Head Zanotto said. “General Ross promised a sizable budget increase for her.”
“She’d be worth more in our hands.” Agent Nein replied.
“Discretionary budget.” Grand Head Zanotto added, chuckling darkly. “Usable on any project we want. It would quadruple our research budget if we spent it there.”
“Of course, sacrifices must be made if science is to advance.” Agent Nein said.
“If it means she won’t kill any other children, I support it.” Miss Milla spat. “I won’t let there be a third time.”
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Tanya awoke suddenly, breathing deeply as she struggled to move, to escape. She had to get away! They’re shipping her off to the front!
…wait. It was just a nightmare. Even now, the specifics of the dream slipped away, leaving behind a vague sense of dread and betrayal. Besides, she was in psychoisolation. She couldn’t possibly have listened in on such a conversation with telepathy.
Releasing a shuddering breath, Tanya tried to calm her pounding heart, tears flowing as she let the absurd vision slip out of her memory. It was supposed to be a long familiar process, but even these have intensified since she first allowed Miss Milla within her mind.
It did bring up a question: She did vaguely recall going into a rage and attacking Sioux, but did any of the other children die as collateral damage? That didn’t sound like something Agent Nein would have told her about if it was the case. The question was, would he have told her if it wasn’t? He didn’t say one way or the other. Then again, it was also quite possible he didn’t know until Tanya was already unconscious. Casualty reports only came in after the battle, after all.
Still, she needed some fresh air. Her own stink has already started overpowering the trickle of clean air, and the drool puddle had migrated to soaking her ear. She was about to form a blade formula again, overpowering the suppressive technology, but then a thought occurred to her: She was probably being observed. The whole point of the straightjacket was in case the Type 95 took over her mind again from beyond the grave. Any sort of destructive action could be seen as her going crazy again. So if she wanted to get out instead of locked up tighter… She needed to do so without destroying her bonds.
The box prevented her from telepathically reaching out, the muzzle prevented her from any vocalization more coherent than a scream, her arms were bound… but her legs were still mobile…ish. The comfortingly heavy and warm cloth that was laid on top of her did limit things, but it wasn’t an insurmountable obstacle. The logical place for a door to the box was one of the sides, or the roof. The question when it came to the sides was that of orientation. She tried to picture the logistics of the situation, what the advantages and disadvantages were for each side.
After going around in circles of logic for a few minutes and giving up on rational deduction, she figured she’d try the empirical method. First, the easiest one to access. A quick shifting of her position with telekinesis gave her leg enough leverage to kick the wall closest to her feet, psychic reinforcement protecting her bare foot from damage and compensating for her pathetic muscle strength. Thinking about it, she should probably start some kind of exercise regimen before her metabolism slows down, or else she’ll probably get fat. Obesity is linked to more health and quality of life issues than she could ever remember.
From the feedback of the impact and tone of the resulting rattling sound,Tanya deduced that the box was not affixed particularly securely to the floor, wherever she was. Also, that the wall she hit was not a door, and that the box was wood with the psitanium paneling hastily affixed.
The roof, on the other hand, was a door. Within thirty seconds of the kick, before she could test a second potential door, a sudden inflow of fresh air filled Tanya’s nostrils, and the blankets that covered her head were pulled back, revealing Miss Milla’s smiling face. “How are you feeling, sleepyhead?” She then scrunched up her nose, but she didn’t say anything about the smell.
Tanya almost tried to speak, but remembered in time to speak with telepathy before she made a fool of herself doing so while gagged by the muzzle. “Better.” She took another deep breath of the fresh air, letting her lingering anxiety seep away as Miss Milla removed the rest of the upper blankets and checked her over. “Was the muzzle necessary? I’m marinating in my own drool.”
“It was, darling.” Miss Milla said. “Your body went kind of… feral for a few minutes, and you had a seizure-like episode at the end of things before falling unconscious, so we kept it on you in case you had another, so you didn’t bite your tongue again. You probably don’t feel it because we gave you some pain medicine.” Seizure? Tanya’s eyes widened. She’s never had one of those before! Milla reached behind Tanya’s head, a small key in hand, and removed the contraption. “Dealing with deeply entrenched mind control like the kind Sasha found in there… your physical symptoms were actually rather mild, in comparison to previous cases. According to Sasha’s report, he was able to be fairly gentle, so a day in bed with lots of sleep should fix any lingering damage.” Agent Nein did mention those cases… “Oh, by the way: the camp’s been canceled.” She added.
Well, that made sense. Exploding camp infrastructure would be sure to do that. “So everyone’s… gone home?” Tanya asked carefully, coughing as her dehydrated throat objected to the words.
Miss Milla immediately understood her underlying concern. “Everyone’s fine, Tanya. Even Mary. We couldn’t reach her parents, but everyone else is due to be picked up in the morning.” Wait, what time was it? Picking up on her confusion, Miss Milla elaborated: “It’s about four in the morning, you’ve been asleep for about ten hours. You also missed dinner.”
That would match up with the hunger pains she’s been ignoring since she woke up. Although if she didn’t know any better, she’d estimate that she’d been without food for a whole day rather than just one missed meal. Damned sensitively increase. Should she ask for food? No, if there was food, Miss Milla would offer it on her own initiative. Best not.
Should she ask to get out of the box? Out of the straightjacket? To go to the bathroom? No… No. Miss Milla is sure to be alert to any signs of her losing control again. Asking to get out of confinement, no matter how polite, could be seen as an attempt to trick her. To get free. In fact, the more polite she is, the more likely it would be seen as a trick. But if she’s too aggressive, that would also be a strong sign of losing control of herself.
No, the safest path is passivity. Accept whatever schedule Miss Milla sets. Agent Nein said the medical isolation, which would presumably not count “nursing staff”, would take all of today, then a week of observation. She could wait a day. She could escape this box at any time. In fact, the box is preferable to more secure facilities. She should be wary if they try to transfer her to “better accommodations”. That sounds like a trap. The box is the best option.
Miss Milla’s smile had turned strained at some point, but after a sigh, she continued. “If you were raised by anyone but a psychic, you’d have starved.” She accused, an amused smile replacing her kind one. “Have it your way.” As she went elsewhere in the room, she thought out loud to herself in a way that Tanya was sure to overhear: “When I prepared for her to act like a toddler as a possible derangement, I really should have kept in mind how Tanya acted at that age.” Tanya immediately remembered the results of their second sojourn within their own mind, flushing in embarrassment. Why does this keep happening?
What was she supposed to do? Despite the less than ideal outcome, she’s willing to call this a win for the passivity strategy. If she was reminding Miss Milla of her pre-camp self, she was definitely not making her think that she was anything but completely in control of her faculties. They can run damage control after the immediate danger has passed.
That didn’t mean that it was safe to project anything but gratitude and appreciation for Miss Milla’s efforts as she nursed Tanya, an easy prospect when her increased sensitivity turned every minor annoyance into a painful irritant that, while ignorable, felt great to get addressed, but once she was back within the box, fed, safe, and with clean bedding, it was time to strategize: What’s her exit plan if things go bad?
More importantly, what will the Grand Head’s reaction be, to her getting dangerously close to killing his precious daughter?
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“This cannot be allowed to get out.” Agent Hollis said, the voice drifting in as Tanya was surrounded by the psychedelic sky of the collective unconscious. “There would be riots, chaos!”
“And that’s just the Christians.” Grand Head Zanotto added. “The Middle East would explode. Literally.”
“Well, I certainly understand the need for discretion.” Agent Nein said. “But that just leaves one loose end.”
“Yes, kill her!” Agent Hollis declared. “Make her some other world’s problem.”
“No, we can do better than that.” Agent Nein assured the stern woman. “The ban on lobotomies only applies to the surgical procedure, after all.”
“Too true.” Grand Head Zanotto said approvingly. “We have moved beyond the need for such crude methods.”
“Just make sure you get it all.” Miss Milla added cheerfully. “If you end up with some… collateral damage, that’ll be a bonus!”
“Of course.” Agent Nein said. She could hear his wry grin. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy the state I’ll leave her in.”
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Tanya started awake, launching herself… into the layers of blankets that cushioned the box she was being kept in. Another nightmare. She reached out with her telepathy again, confirming that her supposed trip to the collective unconscious was impossible: the psychoisolation was firmly in place. The only possible source of that horror was her own head.
Once more, Tanya took deep breaths, cycling her mental energy to calm her rapidly beating heart. Her dreams have always been a problem in this life, but today seems exceptionally … She pulsed some cryokinesis to allow her to cool off more easily. Not too much though, just enough to appreciate the toastiness when it comes back.
“Tanya?” Mary's quiet voice came from outside of the box. “Are you awake?”
Stilling, Tanya kept quiet as her heart sped up again. Did Being X finally contact her? Why was she here? Whatever it is, she wants Tanya to be conscious for it. So… best to pretend to still be asleep.
Besides, she can’t talk right now. Well… she could, if she removed the alternative that Miss Milla offered for the muzzle, when Tanya asked worriedly about the seizure risk. It wasn’t strapped nearly as securely as the muzzle was. Tanya initially thought that Miss Milla might have been joking when she offered a gag that heavily resembled a pacifier as a ‘less uncomfortable option’, but she followed through, and it did prevent her from fully closing her teeth as designed while making it easier to swallow accumulated drool. Tanya still got the impression that Miss Milla was mocking her when she did so, though… Was the seizure risk even significant anymore? She should have asked what the risk was… Well, she can remove this one, so it’s fine. Better safe than sorry.
“If you’re awake, kick the wall.” Mary said after a minute. Tanya remained still. Who else was in the room? Was Mary alone? Does she have an alibi?
“...I guess it was just my imagination.” Mary eventually said to herself quietly. “In case you can hear me: My parents went on vacation while I was here. Grandma is at a nursing home, she can’t come. Agent Vodello is really mad at them. So I’ll be staying with you and her until my parents get back.”
A moment passed. Was that all? Then, Mary continued. “I’m sorry!” She shouted, although the box muffled the sound. “I was so sure that I was right, so desperate to prove that I wasn’t crazy… that I didn’t stop and think what it meant to be right.” Mary sniffled, sobbing as she spilled her guts. “But I was wrong about… so much. Daddy… He almost killed you. They didn’t tell me what I missed, but I spied on them and he said it was even worse! And they didn’t even look at it all! They said it wasn’t even half!” Ah, so that vague sense of a mind’s geometry isn’t something specific to Tanya’s exceptional spatial understanding. They could do it too. “You were just a kid… You didn’t know any better…”
Tanya winced at the pain in Mary’s voice. On one hand, this was a beneficial misunderstanding. If Mary was under the impression that their age difference was merely reversed, that could cause her to be reluctant to follow through any of Being X’s commands to kill her when he was ready to capture Tanya’s soul. It was safer this way.
On the other hand… Mary’s continued sobs interrupted Tanya’s thought. That. “Sioux.” Tanya tried to say, before recoiling at the mistake. Why did she talk!? Maybe the gag prevented her from hearing.
“Tanya?” Mary said. Yeah, she heard. “I’m here, I’m sorry! I know your head’s all screwed up right now, but I’ll make it right! I see now why God’s mission is that of mercy!”
Tanya quickly weighed the possibilities. Mary would likely be even more persistent in her conversion attempts if she was under the impression that Tanya “didn’t know any better” and just “needed to see the light”. This is an undesirable outcome. Further, while Tanya didn’t have much confidence in Being X being properly manipulative… Mary wasn’t exactly a difficult target. She could easily think of several ways that she would use, if she were Being X, to convince Mary that getting Tanya’s soul in the bastard’s hands was in everyone’s best interests. He doesn’t even need to lie, even if it would be even easier if he did. Mary’s rather gullible, after all.
…No, Mary’s ignorance in this topic is potentially dangerous. She’ll just have to be vague as to details. Tanya telekinetically removed the gag so she could speak clearly. “I wasn’t a child.” She said simply.
“...What? The memory said you were only nine.” Mary said, confused.
Tanya carefully considered how to phrase this. “We can agree that reincarnation is real. It is possible to remember a life before the one you currently have.”
“Right.” Mary said. Tanya could practically hear the gears turning in her mind. There was a psychically impermeable barrier between them, so it definitely wasn’t literal.
“It’s an easy explanation of why I have so many skills and talents beyond my age in this world.” Tanya continued.
“Yes, it is.” Mary agreed.
“But why, if that is the case… was I such a prodigy back then?” Tanya asked her. “Am I merely a genius? Talented beyond all measure in military strategy, law, and logistics? I was second in my class at the officer’s academy, you know. That was before Norden. Number twelve at the war college.”
Mary, to her credit, understood the meaning before Tanya spelled it out completely. “It wasn’t your first life.” She said quietly, shocked at the revelation.
“Correct.” Tanya said. “Thirty-two, plus seventeen, plus twelve. If you’re twenty-five, I’m sixty-one.” Tanya snorted. “I’d be the first to argue that the first few years don’t count, though. You need to start learning new things beyond vital skills like languages, at the very least.” She’d probably shave off… seventeen years total between the second and third lives if she had to put a number on it. Start the clock at joining the military for the second, and starting her proper psychic education for the third. So she’s currently forty-four. And not a single cent saved for retirement, alas.
“...Do they know?” Mary asked, quietly.
“I never told anyone else.” Tanya replied. Not even Visha. “But the Psychonauts incidentally found the memories of my first life a few days ago. If you think my current accommodations are cruel, lobotomies were standard practice in the twenties. Carving out bits of the brain makes the inmates more docile, you see.” Tanya sighed deeply. “I knew exactly what I was doing when I joined the military. It was a terrible option, but it was the best one I had.” Unlike her, who had very little idea what she was doing and thus made a terrible decision to join the military.
After a moment of silence, Mary’s quiet voice replied. “...Thank you for telling me. I feel better about things now.” She said, sniffling. The sound of her blowing her nose on a tissue came out. “...Did you meet him? God? Did you have a divine mission?”
Tanya frowned. Ah, this was the minefield she was trying to avoid. Mary was still incredibly powerful, and in her current emotional state… “He doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.” She eventually said, delicately. If you squinted, you could call his curse on the type 95 a ‘divine mission’. “Nor does he believe in ‘turning the other cheek’.” Tanya had gone into a massive laughing fit when she learned about that particular line of scripture. The nuns proved that day that they were not above corporal punishment dispensed arbitrarily, with no written or spoken rule broken. The memory of that day made her butt itch, but psychic powers provided many abilities that some would consider unnatural. Tanya sighed out some of her frustration. “I’ll leave it at that.”
Mary quieted, contemplating Tanya’s words seriously. “...What was it?”
Immediately, Tanya shut down that line of inquiry. “You don’t want to know the answer to that question.” The truth of ‘use the wonder-weapon to kill lots of people and scare the rest into prayer’ was definitely too much to accept for her.
Silence reigned. “Okay.” Mary eventually said, drained.
…Yes, that went as well as could be expected. While she downplayed the enmity between herself and Being X, Mary now has enough information to not blindly accept whatever Being X tells her without having questions. If the bastard shows as much rhetorical acuity as he did on their first meeting, he may even piss her off. Of course, it may end with him just controlling her mind, type 95 style, but that risk existed before she started speaking.
“Do you want me to let you out?” Mary asked. “The door isn’t even locked. It’s just a latch.”
Tanya’s eyes widened. They didn’t… Why? After taking a deep breath, Tanya considered the situation logically. If she did lose control of herself, the door being locked wouldn’t be much of an obstacle. She’d just carve her way out of the box, the door being locked may buy them two seconds, and only then if she didn’t skip testing the door in favor of blasting her way out.
No… she was still to be in psychoisolation for the rest of the day. Only after that amount of time will the risk of relapse be acceptably small. Escape means that they’ll be forced to take more serious containment measures. The box is safe. The box is comfortable. Only by following the strict instructions of the medical professionals will she be declared ‘not about to go on a killing spree’. It wasn’t like she could trust her own mind about that, not anymore.
Ah, she should respond. “I-I’m fine, Mary. I need to stay here. To heal. I’m quite comfortable.” Well, Tanya did kind of wish Miss Milla would return and attend to her, as she felt in her gut that it was nearing lunchtime, but there wasn’t a ‘call nurse’ button she could push. “What time is it?” Tanya asked, as there wasn’t any reason not to.
“Ah, it’s almost lunch. Eleven something.” Mary replied. “Everyone else is gone already. Agent Vodello told me to wait here while she tried to reach my parents again. Agent Nein said he was getting the jet, then he teleported away.” That made sense. While Agent Cruller can casually teleport well enough to be nigh omnipresent, most psychonauts, if they could teleport long distances at all, do so by astrally projecting to a distant location, then pulling their physical bodies behind them. If he could travel to the mind of Agent Boole or some other Psychonaut, returning to the Motherlobe to report in person would be a straightforward task.
What is he telling them? What will their reaction be? Did she remember the terrain correctly? Did Miss Milla repack her clothes in preparation to leave yet? She’ll need those if she needs to leave in a hurry. She should be able to rough it for a little while by using herbaphony to grow fruits and nuts to eat.
Hold on. She was being rude. “Thank you.” Tanya told Mary.
“...I had to spend a week in a straightjacket and padded cell when I first tried to tell my parents about my first life, right after new years.” Mary confided. “It was awful. I was strapped to a bed for most of it, too.” In the mental hospital’s defense, Mary was likely a very hostile patient.
Tanya hummed. Did she suddenly volunteer to be her therapist? That… seemed like it would improve her margin of safety with Mary. “How did you get out?” Tanya asked.
“The Psychonauts.” Mary explained. “They got me moved out of the hospital, but now I have to take classes with the…” She cut herself off. “...they want us to call them the ‘special’ kids. But no one actually does that. And now I’m one of them, too. The ones who aren’t brain damaged are crazy and mad at everything. It’s the worst. I have to take the small bus to school, too.” After a moment, she added, begrudgingly: “The extra field trips are pretty cool, though. We saw the butterflies at the science museum before summer break.”
Tanya had to think hard: Did Japan even have special education? The only reason Tanya even knew it existed was because she heard Milla complain that the special education consultant was incompetent when they were designing the camp. She distinctly recalled Miss Milla saying ‘they were dealing with psychic children, not developmentally delayed children or kids with fetal alcohol syndrome’. Come to think of it, if the supply requisitions listened to that consultant, that would explain why they had a straightjacket that fit Tanya on hand. Also the variety of restraints. “Well, I’m only supposed to go into Psychoisolation for the day.” Tanya explained. “Just to be safe.” The box was safe. “I’m fine here.”
“Are you sure?” Mary asked, sniffling again.
Well, a little bit of hyperbole never hurt anyone. “I’m very comfortable. I’m thinking of getting one installed in my room.” After a moment, she added: “But without the straightjacket.” It really was the worst part of this. Well, besides the original muzzle.
“I’m sure that can be arranged, darling.” Miss Milla’s voice came from behind Mary’s position. Mary made a surprised squeaking noise at the interruption. “Mary, Mr. Cook has made you some lunch. Go eat it, please. I’ll take care of Tanya.”
Well, she’d probably not use it that often, but the option to sleep in psychoisolation and/or sensory deprivation does sound nice to have. Maybe some earmuffs to improve the sound dampening? It’s so relaxing…
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“Now, here’s your new home, Tanya.” Agent Mentalis said. Why was he green? Why was everything green? And big?
“What happened?” Tanya asked.
“Oh, Agent Vodello and Agent Nein died on a mission, so we decided that we’d cut out the part where you go on a grief-stricken rampage and go straight to the part where we stick your brain in a pod full of mood-balancing hormones.” Agent Mentalis explained. Yes, that did make sense.
“Where’s my body?” Tanya asked.
Agent Mentalis shrugged as he started watching the readouts of whatever device her brain was placed in. “We just stuck your body in your psychoisolation box and put my ditziest assistant on nursing duty. It’ll be weeks until people question the fact that you won’t leave it.” He chuckled menacingly. “Until that happens, I can run any kind of experiment I want…”
Uh oh. “What are you going to do?”
“Oh, I’m not sure yet.” Agent Mentalis said, giddy as he contemplated the possibilities. “Perhaps I could see if an active psychic brain can be turned into a controllable weapon system! I’ve already tried the ones I have, but imagine a drone that can direct a massive Psychokinetic payload, aimed with telepathy!”
“...That sounds like a manned plane with extra steps.” Tanya pointed out.
Agent Mentalis scowled. “...I’m just going to stick you in a psitanium crucible until I get a better idea then. It will be very painful for you, and very profitable for me.” Agent Mentalis grinned sadistically. “Feel free to scream.”
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Tanya didn’t awaken as alarmed by this nightmare as the others. Really, it was kind of tame. Five out of ten, at best.
Still, the idea that the Psychonauts might decide that she’d be less dangerous as a brain in a jar… That had potential. How would she predict or preempt such a tactic? She knows the Psychonauts have some form of de-braining technique that doesn’t require cutting open the skull, although apparently it only works on living subjects The problem was that the only thing that pops into her memory is an overheard joke about super sneezing powder. That couldn’t be it.
…Or could it? She should probably be careful around any purported sneezing powder anyway, just to be safe. It could just be a euphemism for a different powder-based method. In fact, she should be careful around regular nasal irritants as well, just in case. She could adjust her shield to protect her nostrils, right?
…That would interfere with her ability to smell things. Possibly an acceptable trade-off. Wait, the passages in the mouth. She still needs to breathe, she can’t block her mouth too. Or does she? If she tried to psychically recreate the oxygenation formula… Can you sneeze from stuff in your mouth? She never thought sneezing would be a significant danger before.
What time was it? She felt a little hungry, but was it ‘dinnertime’ hungry? She’s had to adjust her scale recently… The fact that she slept for most of the day would presumably make her less hungry… Speaking of which, Tanya telekinetically rubbed her own back, grunting as she worked at the points of tension you get from lying down for hours. Yeah, that helped. If she didn’t have telekinesis, she’d probably be a lot more bothered by the straightjacket. But that’s what it takes to signal compliance, so she’ll keep wearing it for now.
Another rush of air noted that the psychoisolation box was opened, causing Tanya’s heart to leap up her throat in surprise. A startled scream was shoved out of her mouth, muffled by the safety gag. Reflexively, Tanya’s body was wreathed in telekinetic power, forming an iridescent barrier to replace the lost wall of the box.
Mary squeaked, similarly startled, before a thumping noise indicated that she had fallen backwards.
Someone else knocked on the barrier. “Open up, time to eat!” Came Agent Cruller’s rough voice. Well, ignoring that would just be asking for trouble. Agent Cruller’s madness made him an inherent danger, but it was also relatively easy to manage: identify the levers and triggers of his persona’s insanity, and be respectful of the responsibility he took on as part of it.
…Come to think of it, ‘responsibility’ did run as something of a theme for his madness. Is that a hint to something? Was the central fulcrum of his madness a failure in his duties, perhaps?
Dropping the barrier after cycling her mental energy again, Tanya sat up, inviting the return of the annoying telepathic noise that surrounded the camp. Mary squawked as she finally got a look at Tanya.
“You’re gagged?” Mary asked, horrified. After a second of thought, her expression twisted in confusion. “Wait. you talked earlier…”
Right. Tanya telekinetically removed the safety gag, a blue hand placing it back in the box. . “Yes, I did. Seizures are not a joke, Sioux.” Even if she probably was past the actual danger zone. Tanya would completely believe Miss Milla would let her cling to a safety measure longer than necessary just for the placebo benefits, and it explained that mocking vibe Tanya had picked up.
Agent Cruller put down a plate of meatloaf with mashed potatoes and peas on the TV tray he had set up while Mary was talking. “Neither is starvation! Now clean your plates.” He crossed his arms, his lidded eyes watchful despite their apparent lack of focus. Both girls followed instructions under his gimlet stare.
It would not be the first time Tanya had eaten entirely via telekinesis, and it wouldn’t be the last. She wasn’t usually sitting up when she did it, though, and it was usually finger food. Utensils would be new. Couldn’t be that hard. “Hm. It’s a little easier to use two telekenetic hands when my real ones are bound.” Tanya commented as she used a pair of telekinetic hands to manipulate the flatware as deftly as Mary was. Her more mundane hands twitched within her straightjacket.
Mary swallowed her food, grabbing a napkin and cleaning her face. “Stupid clumsy little kid hands.” She grumbled. “So, I’ve been thinking.”
“Dangerous, but go on.” Tanya said, using a psychic barrier to catch the pea that flew out of her mouth. How embarrassing.
Mary smiled at that, despite Tanya reflexively insulting her. She noticed the pea… “If we’re about to leave, we don’t have a whole lot of time left to fix Mr. Cook.”
Hrm. It did annoy Tanya to leave a job unfinished… And it has been twenty four hours… “Can we do it in the morning?” Tanya asked. “When I’m not breaking Psychoisolation protocol?”
“It’s easier to ask forgiveness than permission.” Mary retorted, an infuriatingly Christian viewpoint. “Also, Agent Vodello said that the protocol was too long when I asked to have dinner here with you. You’re fine.”
Tanya’s eye twitched. How could she be so irritatingly chipper? Just this morning she was a sobbing wreck! …Did she just get played? Is Mary actually competent at manipulation? “I suppose you stole a psychoportal, then?” Tanya asked.
Mary popped the last chunk of meatloaf in her mouth and grinned, taking the door-shaped device out from under her shirt. “Did you know this thing can glue itself anywhere on your skin? It doesn’t do anything else if you don’t put it on your head.” That was actually useful information, that the function that allowed it to affix on someone’s head was independent of the other functions.
Well, decision time. She could either violate the spirit as well as the letter of psychoisolation, minimize the odds of her losing control of herself… or she could not finish what she started. Increasingly implausible scenarios flashed through Tanya’s mind of how this could go terribly wrong.
Agent Cruller hummed. “Finish your food, blonde camper.” The cook scratched at his chest, where Tanya could see a hint of bandages through a cut in the side of his jumpsuit that he hadn’t yet mended.
Ah. She did that, in her madness. Guilt washed over her, choking her with its oppressive grip. But her head remained clear. That psychic seal she placed on the type 95’s madness after Agent Nein weakened it seems to be holding.
Well, if that wasn’t a clear sign that the Psychoisolation was unnecessary, nothing would be. Eating the last forkful of mashed potatoes and drinking her half-empty glass of milk, she placed the flatware back into the plate and used her napkin to clean up her face from the clumsiness of the psychic hands. She promised herself to train her telekinesis to a mechanical level of precision.“There’s one more thing I must finish… Ford.” Tanya said.
The cook persona nodded in approval. “Well, if there’s one thing a kitchen will teach you, it’s to finish what you started. It’s no good to stop halfway, you’ll just waste the ingredients.”
Tanya took the Psychoportal from Mary, floating it to Agent Cruller’s forehead. Mary’s eyes glowed as she projected herself into the old man’s head, and Tanya’s perspective surged in right behind her.
Comments
Chris Larson
*slaps forehead* Damn it Mary, stop being her shoulder devil!
