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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1985735
Rated: 13+ · Other · Action/Adventure · #1985735
16 Year old Jane discovers life isn't always what it seems.
         His eyes did it. She was sure of it. Jane froze for a moment letting the eyes stare into her instead of killing the owner instantly as she was supposed to do.

         The higher ups back at the command would review the data later, as it was not for her to question. Time slowed as she stared, his eyes were green with flecks of brown in them. He had sandy colored hair with a freckled face topping a brown uniform with two black slashes on the right arm marking him as private first class.

         The eyes of the man were wide open with fear and...something else...not loathing, not hate, and not disgust which was what she was used to seeing….

         ...but awe.

         Awe?,

         Awe did not make sense to Jane.. She expected fear certainly but awe? Awe was new, different. Curious. Jane was one of the most powerful telepaths to be born, she had been training for most of her life against the enemy. The enemy was all they ever called the people they fought against, they never knew anything about who they were, or why they were fighting in the first place. Most lived and died without ever wondering why. Some time ago, two hundred years since the dawn of the twenty first century there had been peace. Then war had been declared on that peace by those who simply enjoyed war. At least that is what her history lessons had taught her. They loved war, so they must be put down. Telepaths weren't allowed to know why they loved war. Or even who "They" were. Just the enemy.

         Today Jane wondered why.

         Here on the battlefield...times was hers for the moment. There was no one to notice her take a second glance at the great "enemy."

         Jane delved, looked into his mind. With her mental strength would take less than a second to see what she wanted to know. Past the eyes into the man himself. Boy himself, she corrected, as she peeled back the mental layers. He really wasn't old at all, only 19. At least not much older than she was at 17.

         His name was "Artie" and he had once played baseball once; mostly with friends, as thanks to the fighting there were no longer any leagues that people his age normally participated in.

         What was baseball anyway?

         She delved deeper and found faces he had strong feelings for (Loved?), mother, father, a baby sister named Eliza. The familial terms had no meaning to her, she’d never used them before nor seen them till now. Eliza clicked because the face was so familiar to her like a flashback of someone she used to know...and there was a lot of pain behind the little toddler face, but the girl never got any older, never aged a day in his mind.

         She never aged because she was taken and he never saw her again. She saw the answer in his mind, even as his anger rose up against her and tried to force her out.

         Just a little deeper , she thought, she wanted reasons, like his reasons for being here...peeling back more layers, she forced herself in deeper…

         A scene showed itself almost unwillingly and there was so much rage behind it: A home invasion, men in dark uniforms with guns, the uniforms she recognized, one mentally scanning a child, a toddler really, an older boy standing nearby also being scanning. “The girl is a telepath” the uniformed officer informed them. The mother crying as they ripped the three year old girl from her arms. The five year old boy running after them was kicked in the face. The father knocked over, the door closed on them forcefully as the crying, screaming tot was carried off into the black night.

         The second ticked by and she was out again, the young man in front of her staring at her with unsuppressed anger. He could do nothing while she held him in her mental grip.

         All around her people were being killed by her unit and it was her job to help do the killing. Yet she found herself unable to move.

         The shock of what she had just learned threatened to overwhelm her. She understood why they were instructed to kill first and ask questions later.

         But this...

         After being told they all originated here in this facility, she now knew differently. Where did we come from? Why? Did we have families? Mothers, fathers, sisters, broth She tasted the unfamiliar terms in her mouth.

         She also knew that she could no longer serve. At least not for them, not her country who was not sending her out against an invading enemy but they were simply attack dogs against their own citizens. People in rebellion against...

         Against what?

         She delved into the mind of Artie again ignoring his weak “NO!”, pushing past his anger at her intrusion to see what he was fighting for...again the scene where his sister was taken, and also his parents being beaten for? She pushed harder... for the crime of 'hiding a telepath.' Telepaths were the natural property of the government. They were to be controlled, turned into soldiers. For the control of citizens...

         Jane knew she could never go back again. We had families...we were taken from people who (loved?) us, again the unfamiliar terms were strange in her mind.

         Her stomach turned, bile seeking escape on the field.She let go of Artie and dropped to her knees and vomited. Artie just stood there in shock.

         A field handler ran over to Jane, someone who kept an eye on them and also acted as a radioman was there instantly, not a telepath but someone who maintained control of the situation and passed along information. In her worry she forgot to address Jane mentally.

         "Jane? Are you all right? Did he get a shot in?" She called out drawing her own sidearm from her hip and pointing it towards Artie.

         Jane's head snapped up, and the anger rolled through as she severed the link between her handlers mind and her body on instinct. There was an audible snap as the handler dropped to the ground. The black clad body had dropped with a sickening crunch that said even if she'd survived what Jane had done her neck was broken and she would have died anyway. It was a technique they were all well versed in. She simply delved and imagined cutting a lifeline between body and soul.

         Artie's eyes widened. “What did you just -?”

         Jane knew she could not kill him now for anyone. She wanted to know more, and so he had to live. The handler was dead but that meant that someone was on their way to check out the situation as handlers don't normally just die on the battlefield, their body armor prevented almost anything short of an atomic bomb from killing them. It was just simpler to send out the telepaths. Less messy and more effective. Not many escaped the telepaths.

         With screams all around and gun shots filling the air Jane grabbed Artie's hand and dragged him behind her towards the 'enemy.'

         Away from the 'enemy,' she corrected herself.

         "Where is it safe?" She screamed at him.

         "What?" He yelled still not sure what was going on.

         Mentally, 'Where is it safe?'

         She received a mental laugh. Safe? She thinks there is somewhere safe on this forsaken rock?

         Frustrated she turned him around and looked into his face and mentally 'spoke' again. Is there somewhere safe?

         He recoiled, "You said that in my head?"

         Of course! You want to give away our position?

         "No...," he replied solemnly...

         Say it in your head, I can hear it!

          Oh, sorry...

         Think man! I'm trying to get us both out of here!

         Artie looked at her for a second, trust battling wariness. Finally he shrugged and took the lead.

         Follow me, he said mentally. And stay out of my head, those are my memories you looked through. You had no right...

         Sorry, she sent to him. I, I just wanted to know what, or why we were fighting... I had no idea... I mean... Jane fell silent and Artie looked at her.

         "You didn't know?" He demanded out loud.

         In your head! She sent. And no I didn't know. None of us, we don't ask questions. At least most don't. We fight, we kill, we die...

         They ran away from the battle.

         Take your armor off. He said in his head, blushing. She eyed him narrowly. You'll get shot at where we're going, especially wearing that.

         She peeled off the outer layer of black armor and dropped it. The armor was designed to make them come out of nowhere in the darkness and to just look menacing in the daytime. It was entirely black and mostly conformed to their bodies with a cape hanging on the back. She wore a white shirt underneath and left her pants on. She dropped the cape and left the armor where it lay.

         The battle still going on in the distance but from the sounds it sounded as if the combatants were breaking apart. Gun fire was sparse. They came to a tall gray concrete building that had no other decoration.

         Artie opened a door and went inside. A brief hurried mumur of voices came from within and he called to her to follow.

         Guns were trained on her, and she fought off the urge to defend herself. The reality was, she could take them all down in a split second with barely a thought.

         But she didn't.

         "God Artie!" A man yelled, "You brought a telepath here? Are you mad?"

         "She didn't kill me," Artie shrugged. "She could have, she killed her handler instead. She saved me." He left out the part of her raking this memories.

         The man looked at Artie, "Eliza?" Artie's face darkened, he shook his head.

         Jane stepped forward. "My name is Jane."

         "Drop your weapons," said the man to the others, “my apologies miss but you understand we have to protect ourselves.”

         The guns were lowered towards the ground. "My name is Darryl." Darryl had the same sandy colored hair and green flecked eyes as Artie. She connected him with the name "father" from Artie's memories. The man stuck his hand out towards her, Jane jumped back and looked down at it and slowly up to his face a perplexed expression on her face. Everyone tensed up again but no one drew a gun at her.

         "What is that for?" She said staring at the offered hand. Darryl lowered it not understanding.

         "You shake it," said Artie staring at her. "It is a common courtesy. Nothing more, you really don't get out much do you."

         Jane hesitated and reached out her hand. Darryl took it and shook it firmly. He grinned. "Welcome to the enemy, Jane."

         Jane stared at the expectant faces surrounding her. Her mind was open and she could feel their thoughts. They crushed her to be exact. She could hear everything. Most of it was fear, anger, hurt, betrayal...all aimed at her.

         How could he bring this girl here?

         She will be the death of us all?

         She doesn't look like much...

         How could she turn on her own like that? That makes her untrustworthy for all of us.


         She wasn't sure when it happened but she blacked out. Artie was next to her looking into her face. It took her a moment to realize that he was calling out to her mentally. She wasn't used to the sudden surge of feeling.

         "I'm sorry." she said out loud to them. "I've never felt such a serge in emotion before."

         Artie smiled at her. "Don't worry, we'll try to curb our thoughts." He looked around. "Won't we?"

         "Ah yes," said a man from the back. "Let's all be nice to the killer telepath."

         Artie raised her up to her feet. Jane shrugged at the man in the back. She could snap his mentality in an instant if she needed to. She brushed it off. The emotions were so new to her. Nothing like the mental discipline handled by the trainers she'd encountered.

{i}
i{i}One day Jane had encountered a stray thought from one of them. That they couldn't wait to get home to celebrate Christmas with their family. This had surprised Jane.

"What's Christmas?" She'd asked innocently.

The trainer had stared at her for a moment and her superior, a woman named Dawn who ran the facility had had her moved to a different facility. Dawn was a elderly lady in her fifties with graying hair called the Dragon by her telepath charges although never to her face.

"It was just a stray thought." Dawn had explained to young Jane at the time. "There's no such thing as Christmas. Only killed and be killed, fight or die. Do you understand?"

"Yes Mistress." Jane had replied solemnly. Though her curiosity wasn't sated by any means.


         Back in the present Jane listened to the thoughts of the men. She knew it might make them not trust her but the range of expression was varied and wide, not what she was used to at all. And she was curious.

         Artie noticed the strain on her face however. "Let's take a walk?" He suggested. She nodded. They went back outside the plain, nondescript, gray, concrete building. The sun had set and all was quiet for the moment.

         "Artie," she said out loud. "What's family?"

         "What do you mean?"

         "There are just so many words that you throw around in your heads. Father, mother, sister, brother...I don't understand the terms. Are they superiors?"

         "Superiors?" Artie looked confused as to how to explain. "Family are people you grow up with, or sometimes people you love, or fight to protect, someone you'd give your life for."

         "So the government is my family?"

         "NO!" Artie said it harder than he'd meant to. "You were stolen from your family, turned into a weapon."

         "But I am supposed to die in the service of my country. It is drilled into our heads at all the time." She picked a word out of his mind. "What's brainwashing?"

         "OK, let's get some rules straight." Artie said. "I know you can kill me in an instant without hesitation but you have doubts and that's why you followed me out in the first place. You saw...." He took a breath. "You saw my sister being taken at a young age. And because of it you wondered...but you cannot just delve into a persons mind just because you can. Those memories are are mine."

         "I've always had a bad curious streak." Jane replied. "It is one of my faults. And if I hadn't delved into your mind, you'd be dead."

         "No," said Artie solemnly. "That is one of your strengths. You may not see it now but you've thrown off some pretty big shackles. I'm extremely grateful that you didn't kill me, but you were on a field of battle. That is different."

         Jane nodded unconvinced and reached up and tucked a blonde hair back into place behind her ear as they walked back towards the building.

         Darryl was waiting for them at the door.

         "Jane may I speak with you about something." He looked and sounded nervous and Jane held back from listening to his mind in respect to Artie because this man was his father, whatever a father was. Artie clearly had strong feelings for him, not to mention respect.

         She nodded and walked in. "Of course." Artie followed her in, shooting his father a curious glance but not saying a word.

         "We wish you would join us." Darryl came right out with it. The other men in the room said nothing.

         "Join you?" Jane said. She felt surprised because in her mind she'd escaped. Going back had never entered her thoughts.

         "Yes," said Darryl firmly. "With you, we have a chance. We could never get past them before. Not up close anyway. You could help us."

         In her confusion her mental block dropped and their thoughts poured in at her.

         Point the weapon of the enemy back at the enemy...

         Get rid of the rest of the telepaths...

         Our one chance...

         A weapon in our hands...


         She sensed their desparation. She seized the one thought... "I'm just a weapon? Is that all?" She glanced at Artie hurt on her face. "You told me I had escaped. Now you want me to go back and kill the ones I grew up with. For you?"

         "No, Dad look back off for a while, we just got back." Artie stepped in. As he did his concern radiated out towards her. Here was one at least who did not see her as just a weapon.

         He took her arm and led her out of the room where the men resumed talking in loud heated voiced.

         "Don't listen in to that." Artie whispered. "Even what they say out loud is going to get ugly.



{/size}
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1985735