Unforeseen Dives – 33a – Causes

<< 32b – Secrets

I managed to pass Rebecca’s mind reading test before my chair was made operational again. Unfortunately, masking my thoughts from an invasion I knew was coming didn’t really count. Lying about work in my head needed to become a second nature so that Casey wouldn’t hear a weird thought by mistake. However, Becky couldn’t test it here as it was impossible to unconsciously not think about work while I was in the building. We always knew a leap of faith was coming. My training was as extensive as possible.
The three of us planned to have dinner tonight to celebrate our new jobs. Most ex-PSI employees had found new employment minutes after the FBI fired us. Government trained psychics and telepaths were coveted, especially since the number of readers was so limited. Despite the recent ruckus, business men rushed to hire my coworkers. Apparently, we were still good investment. Casey nailed a job as press agent for some record company.
I sat in my new chair, feeling the unfamiliar texture. This model was lighter and more flexible than my old one. It was cushier too. I liked it but Rebecca didn’t trust the chair. She learned to recognize the humming of the old one and could detect a problem by ear.
“This one can play tricks on me,” was her way of summing up her feeling.
Becky walked in with a couple of water bottles. She sat at her place by my side and closed her eyes. She communicated telepathically with the rest of the research team.
“The team leader confirmed they are still looking into the way whirlpools are born. Each team targets a different type of whirlpool. So far, no luck.” I grabbed my partner’s hand to join in the conversation.
“It’s okay. You spent about five hours on the problem. No one expected immediate results. Keep digging and report before you leave.” I broadcasted through Rebecca. “Do you feel like you need me or I can dive on something else?”
“I don’t think you’re necessary. However, if you could do something about the FBI agents barging in, it would be greatly appreciated.” I tasted the team leader’s annoyance coating his last thought.
“We’re on it.” Rebecca beamed on my behalf. I was already reaching for the phone. Daniel picked up on the second ring.
“Correct me if I’m wrong but when you called me you said readers and non-readers were equals in this task force, right?” I asked once the usual greetings were over.
“That’s the promise. What’s wrong?”
“Apparently, FBI agents keep checking on my team and it slows down their work. They’ll report once they know something.”
“I guess old habits die hard,” Daniel sighed. “I’m on it.”
“Great.” I moved to hang up but Daniel’s voice called the receptor back to my ear. Rebecca gave me the “what now?” look. I shrugged.
“While you’re on the line, the FBI expects me to tell them what you’re up too.”
“I’ll investigate the Prompt Diving Training School. There are no whirlpools there. Maybe I can find something.”
“Would you like me to plan you a field trip?”
“It can’t hurt. Thanks.” I hung up without interruption this time.
“Ready to get wet, partner?”
“If only the Ocean had sandy beaches.” I lied back in my chair and let the soft humming guide me to the depths of the future. I found my way to the school quite easily and watched the FBI agents scrambling for clues all over the place. Slowly, I rewound the events, dragging myself back in time through the streams of emotions.
The security cameras of the school were deactivated before the attack. Thus the FBI estimated the size of the crew but didn’t have any faces nor finger prints. My vision reaped priceless information to identify the criminals. The ten men crew was exclusively non-reader. I waved through their souvenirs until I got all the names. Each had a couple of aliases but I managed to pin point which name was most likely their own. To my dismay, not even the leader referred to their boss in other terms than “the boss” and they never met.
“I’m transferring the list to the FBI immediately.” Rebecca broadcasted in my mind. Maybe now that they knew where to look, the Bureau would unearth some useful leads.
I scoured for motives behind the kidnapping. Finding the intended use for the victims might help us avoid the worst. The strike team wasn’t that well-informed.
“They’re completely cut off from the head.” I noticed.
“Which is the best way to manage this type of operation.” Rebecca beamed.
I agreed but something bothered me. First, the attackers were high on adrenaline. I hadn’t seen the red sheen in any dives related to this investigation. Also, the previous strikes were either close or smack in the middle of a whirlpool. This attack differed in that regard too.
“Maybe it’s not linked to the rest. We’re losing our time on another non-reader versus reader violence.” Rebecca’s idea made sense. However, she thought we were missing something. Such an operation went beyond an attack in the street. These guys worked like professionals. Mercenaries.
Somebody was tying up loose ends. For some reason, they didn’t have time to create a whirlpool cover up which explained the more standard operation.
I roamed the halls of the school, switching between the time of the attack, the preceding weeks, now and the future.
“What are they hiding?” Rebecca echoed.
I followed every member of the personnel around. None of them provided worthy information. The patients underwent the same treatment. I skimmed through their behavior, their emotions and their routine. Somewhere in this place and time floated a clue the person behind the death of my mother didn’t want me to find.
Suddenly, as I haunted the steps of one of the craziest prompt divers, what I was looking for jumped in my face. I couldn’t refrain my laughter.
The bad guy made a mistake. I would make sure to hang him with it.

33b – Causes >>

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About Aheïla

Somewhere in Quebec City, Aheïla works as a Game Design Director by day and writes by night. Known for her blue hair, unyielding dynamism and tasty cooking (quails, anyone?), she’s convinced “prose is the new crack”. She satisfies her addiction daily on The Writeaholic’s Blog and weekly on Games' Bustles View all posts by Aheïla

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