Senior Superior Agent Tilk'yanp tapped her fingers, one at a time, in a rhythm against the top of the table as she watched the video again.
Less than thirty seconds and all four guards were down. One dead. One with a broken arm and fractured skull, the other with a fractured skull and facial lacerations, the last with a cracked trachea and bruised windpipe.
She played it again in slow motion, leaning forward to examine it closely.
The first push and Scientist Second Class Oftr'kaj's eyes went bright amber. The second push and the amber dulled into dull crimson. The scientist spoke and she paused it, examining the audio levels and the voice pattern.
"It's not his voice," Tilk'yanp said slowly.
Senior Minor Agent Urtr'ekip frowned. "He said it, of course it is his voice."
Tilk'yanp signified negative. "No. Look at the comparisons. Subharmonic and avertical phase difference patterns are completely different, and those cannot be changed at will," she pointed at the two voice patterns. She overlaid them, pointing out how radically different they were. "Plus, he only speaks on the exhale, not on the inhale like most of our people, breathing from the belly instead of the top of the lungs."
Urtr'ekip frowned, leaning forward. "All right, what does that prove?"
"That he's right. There's someone in there with him," she said. She replayed and slowed down from the few frames before the amber glow showed up to the end. "Look at how his body posture completely alters. You can see his center of balance alter, his spine straighten."
"It's like two different people," Urtr'ekip said softly.
"Have you seen the brain scans they did after yesterday's outburst?" She asked.
Urtr'ekip signified negative.
"I've had it checked a dozen times. What you're going to see is impossible and the Office of Scientific Inquiry is at a loss to explain it," she said. She switched the inch-long triangular datachips out, popping out the one containing the footage of the hallway incident and replacing it with another chip that was red-green with yellow-blue edging.
The hologram came up to show that it was a 3D brainscan.
Urtr'ekip sighed. He didn't know how to interpret the data, which was just tens of thousands of neurons firing at once.
"What am I looking at?" he asked.
Tilk'yanp paused it and pressed another key combo. Another brainscan appeared next to the first one. "The first is a brainscan of an individual with an intelligence quotient of fifteen mean standard points above Oftr'kaj," she said. "The second is Oftr'kaj," she pointed at the second one then hit play. "They are reacting to the same stimulus, which is pictures with sound."
Urtr'ekip frowned. Oftr'kaj's was firing all over the place, in discrete clusters, long tendrils, and batches. Noticeably more brain activity than the first one.
He was about to speak when it suddenly changed.
The neurons firing in Oftr'kaj's brain suddenly went dark, still. Then they blossomed from the middle. It took a moment for Urtr'ekip to realize that he was looking at a fist. A fist with four fingers and thumb off to the side.
As he watched the middle finger, the longest finger, slowly raised.
Runes appeared beneath the image.
[Crude euphemism for sexual intercourse] Off!
[One who performs crude euphemism for sexual intercourse] Sneak!
Then the eruption turned to look like a skull that was laughing.
Then went to completely chaotic, fuzzing out the entire scan.
"What? How?" Urtr'ekip asked.
"The technicians tried a dozen times afterwards, all they got out of Oftr'kaj's brainscan was a big ball of fuzz. The skull? That's obvious from Forerunner Studies. A Warsteel Forerunner skull," she said. "Those are Warsteel Forerunner runes. We know that combination is an obscene word with multiple uses."
"There is definitely something in there with him," Urtr'ekip said softly.
"Gee, you think?" Tilk'yanp said. She shook her head. "Everyone is at a loss to explain how it's happening, most prefer to act as if it isn't happening. That way they don't have to answer uncomfortable questions."
Urtr'ekip leaned back. "He said, early on, that there was a Terror in his head with him. He's since quit making that claim," the Senior Minor Agent looked at his superior. "Could the Terror have taken over?"
"If it has, it is able to emulate Oftr'kaj perfectly," she said. She switched the datachips and watched part of the battle again.
Oftr'kaj was fighting seven of the robots at once, never stopping to move, never pausing, every action forcing the robots to react, which Oftr'kaj was already taking action to take advantage of, counter, or evade.
The timer hit sixteen seconds and all seven robots were shattered junk.
Oftr'kaj took the time to step on each robot and shoot it twice in the computer control center.
"I showed this to the Way of the Means command, even some close combat trainers, all of them agreed at first that this was merely a deep fake computer generated video. There is no pause between actions to assess the situation. Without quantum computer assistance, it is impossible to predict another being's actions based on your own," Tilk'yanp said. She ground her back teeth together, bruxing them to ease her irritation. "Even when they did believe they were unaltered, they would do little but speak about how impossible it is."
"And now that Oftr'kaj, a scientific caste male, put down four warrior caste females in less time than it takes for them to put on their pants, what do they say?" Urtr'ekip asked.
Tilk'yanp bruxed for a moment then sighed, twitching her whiskers for a moment. "That we had a dozen Tek-Warriors attack them and overlaid it with this deep fake," she said. She bristled for a moment, then calmed herself.
The sounds of her back teeth grinding was loud.
"Whatever was in that first injection set, it allowed a scientific caste male to destroy nearly a hundred robots, blow up a dig site, and destroy vehicles," she said.
"I've heard some of the Way of the Means troops say that it had to be the weapons and armor," Urtr'ekip said carefully, not wanting to further annoy his boss.
She shook her head. "No. It was examined closely. Advanced alloys and hyperalloys, superconductor material we've never seen, and molecular circuitry that, frankly, defies everything we know about molecular circuitry, not at its core..."
She paused for a moment, switching datachips and bringing up a wireframe of the pistol, the chain wrapped blade, the rifle, and the armor. "The pistol is just the rifle made smaller. Both of them use magnetic rails to accelerate a projectile to 5,250 meters per second. At the end of the barrel is a set of magnetic coils that our office has always assumed was used for an additional 'boost' even though we couldn't prove it," she sighed. "Because the molecular circuitry was always dead."
Urtr'ekip stayed silent.
"It turns out that the coils are used for everything to put a 'spin' on the projectile, simulating a grooved barrel, to set a charge, to activate a fuse, and a lot of other things," she said. She shook her head. "For the first time, we got our hands on an ammunition that had not degraded over time."
"I thought the ammunition blocks were simple iron slugs with a copper jacket," Urtr'ekip said. He frowned. "Wait, if it uses magnetic rails, why do the bullets have explosive propellant."
Tilk'yanp threw her hands in the air. "I don't know! Neither does Way of the Means Research and Development or our own R&D teams. It's like they have four or five systems that all do the same thing," She shook her head. "No. It's worse. Somehow, we're not sure how, both the pistol and the rifle, in a thousandth to a hundredth of a second, is able to adjust that projectile of iron into different types."
"And the armor?" Urtr'ekip asked.
She shook her head, grinding her back teeth again. Finally she tapped the hologram emitter. "Laminate. Overlapping plates giving the best mobility. Angles for deflection. Kinetic shock gel pads," she bruxed her teeth again. "The Way of the Means R&D started screaming so loud about that armor that our office had to reclaim it before they destroyed it."
"It was that good? The technology was that advanced?" Urtr'ekip asked.
She shook her head again. "No. It just used it in completely foreign ways. It was almost deliberately behind our technology."
"And pulled out of one of those orbs we thought were some kind of religious icon," Urtr'ekip said.
"Right. Which means, it was manufactured on the spot. That the orb scanned Oftr'kaj, took a blood sample, sequenced his DNA and ran his bloodwork to make medicines, and provided all of the equipment in, if you take out the lags where he's messing with things, roughly eighty seconds."
Urtr'ekip clicked his tongue in amazement. "That's... fast."
"You could arm two soldiers in three minutes. In five hours you could arm and equip two hundred soldiers. With just one of those orbs," she bruxed again. "No wonder we've never found a single factory complex," she said. She tapped the holo-emitter. "We've had their factories in our possession for centuries."
"Any clue how he got it to work? To respond to him? It has a Substance-T coating, which means if you bring enough force to breach it, you've destroyed whatever was in it and a few miles of terrain too," Urtr'ekip said.
Tilk'yanp ran the video.
"See the lightning? It's psychic power," she said.
Stolen story; please report.
"Did you call in the Division of Psychic Tehnologies?" Ortr'ekip asked.
She nodded. "They're coming over today to take a look at our scientist." - Archive Record TL120348XL, Xeno-Archeological Administration, recorded 1,873 Current Era
Oftr'kaj was laying in his cell, staring at the ceiling.
His right hand twitched and he started to sit up and reach for the two pads of paper and two pens. He had the sudden urge to relax, so he stopped before he could sit up.
His right wrist cocked and his fingers started tapping, like he was typing on an invisible keyboard.
CAN YOU HEAR ME? appeared in his left eye one letter at a time, with a square cursor rapidly backspacing over the letters when it was done. It was an odd effect, but it kind of appealed to Oftr'kaj.
"Yes," he said.
DON'T SPEAK. COCK YOUR LEFT HAND.
Oftr'kaj did so.
IMAGINE A HOLOGRAPHIC KEYBOARD UNDER YOUR FINGERS.
Oftr'kaj did so.
NOW, TYPE YOUR RESPONSE TO ME. IT WILL APPEAR ON THE RETINAL LINK.
Oftr'kaj was surprised when his words appeared in his right eye.
is this you, son of a miller?
YES
He laid there for a long second.
THEY'LL BE COMING TO KILL YOU SOON. THEY'LL WANT TO DISSECT YOU AND SEE IF THEY CAN FIND ME.
Oftr'kaj felt fear fill him.
what do i do?
YOU INJECTED ME TO SAVE YOU, PROTECT YOU, AND I'M IN HERE TOO.
DO YOU TRUST ME?
yes
THEN I'LL DO WHAT I CAN. WE'LL PROBABLY BE SHOT TRYING TO ESCAPE BUT IT'S BETTER TO DIE FREE THAN BE BUTCHERED LIKE CATTLE
yes
I'LL DO MY BEST KAJ.
I LIKE YOU.
WE COULD HAVE BEEN FRIENDS.
His right wrist went limp.
i would have liked that.
-----
Oftr'kaj was led into the room, the chains between his wrists, his feet, and the connecting chain much thicker, this time attached to a choker loop that forced him to bend forward slightly to avoid choking himself.
The room had a table in the middle, that was bisected by a steel wall lengthwise. The steel only went up three feet, the rest was three inch thick macroplas. A steel exchange drawer set was built into the wall in the middle of the table. On the right was a ferrocrete blockwall, on the left the upper third of the wall was a mirror. On the far side was a heavy steel door without a window. There were three chairs on the opposite side of the macroplas and a single chair on his side.
He was sat in a chair, where there was a ring in the table with a chain on it that connected to the big loop in the middle of the wrist chain. The three guards Way of the Means stood behind him, no longer carrying shock prods, but instead carrying cut down carbines designed for closeup work. They were in better armor, which Oftr'kaj had seen in documentaries about various wars.
He knew the Terror, the Miller's Son, had used his eyes to seemingly glance at the armor and weapons, taking in everything about them in that short glance. Of particular interest to the Terror was the fact that the ammunition counter only read 15.
Oftr'kaj sat in the chair, waiting.
After a long period of time the door on the other side of the room opened up and three figures came through. The two Agents of the Office of Scientific Inquiry came in, the larger female first, a stranger, then the male.
The stranger was a small male that made Oftr'kaj's stomach twist with revulsion. The male's pelt was unkempt and looked greasy. His whiskers were drooping and different lengths. His ears were limp against his head, his eyes bleary with yellow sclera and bloodshot. He was wearing gaudy and overdone jewelry.
Oftr'kaj's right hand twitched and he tapped his fingers on the table.
OH SHIT
Oftr'kaj tapped his left fingers.
what
THIS MIGHT GET BAD
Oftr'kaj didn't change expressions, but there was a sudden feeling in his head. Like a growling, like his pelt down his back was bristling up. His muscles tensed, pushing and pulling at the same time. He felt himself grinding his back teeth, not to relax, but with tension.
The stranger sat in between the two agents.
They waited until the recorders were set up before introducing themselves again.
Then the middle male.
Agent Omt'pft, from the Division of Psychic Technologies, part of the Office of Scientific Inquiry.
Oftr'kaj's mouth filled with the taste of copper and iron, staring at the yellowed eyes of the Agent.
"It will be painless," the other male said. His voice was scratchy, odd accented, and made Oftr'kaj's gut clench.
"Yes, yes, I see the red glow you are talking about," the Agent said. "It is definitely psychic in nature," he turned to Agent Tilk'yanp. "Are you sure this specimen had no psychic ability, Agent Talk'yanps?"
Agent Tilk'yanp tensed slightly. "Senior Superior Agent Tilk'yanp, Agent," she said.
"Isn't that what I said?" the disheveled male asked.
Agent Tilk'yanp's smile was forced and Oftr'kaj saw her glance at the heavy bracelet on her wrist that he knew hadn't been there before. A quick glance showed him that the male agent from the Office of Scientific Inquiry had on a bracelet just like hers.
The disheveled male agent waved his hand and Agent Tilk'yanp lifted up a hard case briefcase, opening it to reveal two complex headpieces. The disheveled male took both out, putting one in the drawer in front of Oftr'kaj and the other in front of himself. One of the guards moved forward, operating the drawer mechanism, then removed the headpiece, setting it in front of Oftr'kaj before resetting the drawer and moving back against the wall.
"I shouldn't need these," the psychic said. "The red eyes are most likely due to exposure to the Warsteel Forerunner ruins, not anything special. It happens now and then."
The disheveled male leaned forward, his eyes widening, his whiskers suddenly going straight out, his ears lifting up.
Oftr'kaj just stared at him.
The male started twitching.
Oftr'kaj realized that in addition to the copper and iron taste, he could suddenly taste a strange berry taste on his back teeth, which had started tingling.
The male leaned forward more, his eyes widening further, his breathing picking up. The male made a grunt of effort, his whiskers trembling.
The male collapsed into the chair, breathing heavy. He looked at the female agent.
"Are you sure the subject was tested for psychic abilities, Agent Tolk'yap?" he asked.
Tilk'yanp bruxed for a second. "Yes. Several times. Including when he was accepted for the archeological team to excavate the Forerunner site."
The disheveled one grunted, then gave a smile that was slick and corrupt to Oftr'kaj's senses.
"No matter," he said. He motioned and a guard moved forward and picked up the headpiece closest to Oftr'kaj. He bucked it on Oftr'kaj's head, leaned close to Oftr'kaj's ear, whispered "I hope this hurts, you bastard", then moved back.
"This is a powerful piece of technology," the agent said. He gave a tittering laugh that made the pelt on the back of Oftr'kaj's neck stand up. "It will rip apart his mind, but I will tear from him any secrets he has."
"I do not consent," Oftr'kaj said softly.
The disheveled male laughed.
"We need his mind intact," Agent Tilk'yanp protested.
"Your needs are superceded by the desires of my division," the male said. He saw Oftr'kaj tapping his fingers and laughed. "You are right to be nervous, but no worries, when I'm done you'll no longer care about anything."
IT'S GOING TO BE BAD.
I'M SORRY.
it's ok
i dislike this male
GOOD. HE ISN'T GOING TO BE AROUND MUCH LONGER.
good
"This technology is superior to the psychically empowered relics we find at Warsteel Forerunner sites," the male said. He paused to paw at his whiskers and ears, then put on his own.
He squinted and Oftr'kaj saw the gems on the headpiece begin to glow.
"Now, let's see what you're hiding," the psychic said.
The taste of berries got thicker on his back teeth, which started to tingle more.
"Give me your mind," the psychic said. "Your thoughts, your memories, all it. You belong to me!"
Oftr'kaj suddenly exploded upwards. The chains around his wrists, ankles, neck, and waist shattered as every link broke into multiple pieces. Oftr'kaj kicked the chair behind him even as he slammed his hands against the macroplas.
"EAT A DICK, YOU RAT FUCK BASTARD!" Oftr'kaj roared.
The macroplas went milky in front of Oftr'kaj, a spiderweb pattern extending five feet to either side, from the steel wall to the ceiling. The lights blew out in one convulsive explosion of light and sparks. Blood and chunks of tissue splashed against the macroplas.
Oftr'kaj was already moving, shoving off from the macroplas, turning in place.
The chair slammed into the legs of the guard furthest on the right as he faced them. The others were blinking behind their clear face shields.
Oftr'kaj stepped up to one, grabbing the barrel, yanking it toward him with both hands. The guard yanked back and Oftr'kaj suddenly reversed the direction of force, slamming the butt into the faceplate.
"GET OUT OF MY FUCKING HEAD!" Oftr'kaj screamed.
Only it wasn't Oftr'kaj who was doing the vocal screaming, he was busy screaming inside his own head.
It was the Miller's Son screaming.
He grabbed the suddenly released weapon, flipping it around in his hands, his fingers finding the correct studs to take it off safe, to power the weapon.
A quick right to left twist at the waist and he shot the two guards closest to him. He shot the one bending forward at the pain of the chair slamming into their shins hard enough to shatter the plastic seat. Before the one he had grabbed the weapon from could slump, he drove his hip into theirs, pinning the corpse against the wall.
He then turned and dumped the rest of the clip into the mirror, from left to right. He grabbed a magazine out of the dead guard's pouch, reloaded the weapon smoothly, then fired into the revealed room, shattering computer equipment, sending three disheveled males exploding into flame as the plasma hit them, deliberately, somehow, missing the three shocked looking technicians.
Oftr'kaj realized that it wasn't a long burst of automatic fire. The Miller's Son was pulling the trigger each time, firing as fast as the weapon would cycle.
He broke the weapon over his knee, turned, and threw himself at the milky spot. The macroplas shattered and he flew through, rolling, landing on a shoulder and then down his back, then coming to his feet.
The disheveled male's head was missing.
The two agents were covered in gore.
A backhand across the back of the male agent's head drove him facefirst into the table. Oftr'kaj grabbed the back of the male's neck and drove his face against the table again, then turned.
The female was just starting turn, her eyes opening wide, her brain still processing the mayhem.
Oftr'kaj grabbed her by the ears, yanking her to feet.
He pressed his muzzle against her's.
"If you ever bring a psychic near me again I will kill everyone in this fucking city," the Miller's Son growled. "Stay out of my fucking brain, rat."
Before the female could react, Oftr'kaj grabbed her pistol out of the holster, shifted his other hand to her whiskers and yanked. When she opened her mouth to cry out in pain, Oftr'kaj jammed the pistol into her mouth, breaking off one of her front teeth. He let go of her whiskers and grabbed her neck.
"Do you understand me, Agent?" the Miller's Son asked.
Tears were running out of Agent Tilk'yanp's eyes as she made a motion of assent.
He pushed harder till she gagged.
"If you're thinking of killing me and just doing a vivisection, or killing me and dumping me in a ditch, you should know," the Miller's Son growled. He stared into her black eyes and Oftr'kaj realized he could see his own glowing red eyes reflected in hers. "If you fail, I will come to your house and kill you in front of your family."
Agent Tilk'yanp just nodded.
"I could shoot my way out of this shit-heap of a facility. Instead, I'm willing to stay, answer some questions," the Miller's Son growled, shoving the barrel deeper then pulling it out slightly. "You have nothing that could stop me. Try treating me like a guest instead of a criminal," the Miller's Son shrugged his shoulders. "Or ask the Telkan to come get me. I'll go with them and you never have to see me again," he jammed the pistol deeper again, making her retch, holding her up by his grip on her neck. "You send me off with the Telkan, you don't have to worry about me showing up some day and killing you in front of your family."
Agent Tilk'yanp just nodded eagerly.
Oftr'kaj dropped the pistol, shifting to sit on the desk.
"I'll give it back to him," the Miller's Son said. He touched under his eyes with two fingers. "But I'm watching, lady. And I'm faster than you."
Agent Tilk'yanp nodded, bending down slowly and picking up her pistol, the barrel wet with saliva.
-----
"There are many who disagree with your decision to turn over Oftr'kaj to the Telkan Embassy, Agent," the Senior Major Director said softly, pausing the holographic recording.
"They didn't look into those eyes," Agent Tilk'yanp said. "They didn't see a veteran psychic warrior's head explode, didn't see that violence with their own eyes."
The SMD nodded again.
He reached out and touched the face of Oftr'kaj, his fingertips touching the burning crimson eyes that were so bright the pelt around the eyes was tinted ted.
"Did you believe his threats?" the SMD asked.
Agent Tilk'yanp nodded. "I did."
"I would have too."
[CLOSE FILE]
[END FILE]
[THIS INFORMATION IS CLASSIFIED AND NOT FOR DISSEMINATION]
[SESSION CLOSING]
[HAVE A NICE DAY]
Archive Record TL120348XL, Xeno-Archeological Administration, recorded 1,873 Current Era
Oftr'kaj looked at his reflection in the mirror.
One eye, his left eye, glowed with a dim amber light.
He no longer had to tap his fingers.
i like it here appeared in his right eye.
I LIKE TELKAN
I FOUGHT IN THE SECOND TELKAN WAR HERE
Oftr'kaj nodded.
they're symbolically burying you today
I KNOW
are you ok?
ODDLY, I AM. ARE YOU?
i think so.
thank you
FOR WHAT?
for saving me
IT'S WHAT FRIENDS DO
Oftr'kaj nodded, turning away from the mirror.
He needed to get dressed.
The ceremony, which would just have a priest of the Book of Telkan and a few military representatives there, would be soon.