Darkness. Tanya wasn’t entirely certain what to expect, but she expected the sensory input that the capsule should be sending to the brain to have some kind of effect. Perhaps… Harry had some kind of sensory disorder? It would mean the automatic synchronization wouldn’t function, and would require some additional assistance. From the inside of the brain.
Lovely, she’ll have to figure out how to hypnotize a corpse brain to reach out and link with the capsule. Unless… step 1 of the cognitive assessment: announce yourself. “Hello?” She shouted out into the void. “Is anyone here?”
Wait, was that a source of light? …Behind! Tanya spun around and beheld… a small ball of light. About the size of an eyeball, if she had to guess. Maybe a bit larger. “Greetings.” She said to the… consciousness? She’ll act as if it is, as if it isn’t, no one is here to see her embarrass herself. “Can you speak?” She asked.
The ball seemed to flicker in response to her words, as if they provoked some tiny amount of neural activity. After several seconds of observing it flickering, she opened her mouth to say something more but was interrupted by the ball suddenly beginning to make noise.
It was gibberish at first, but after about twenty seconds it started to become somewhat intelligible. “Slippity, sloppity slaw, slow, suh- SORRY!” He eventually got out, his voice masculine as he wheezed in effort at the accomplishment. “Sorry, it’s just been so long since I’ve said anything.” The ball of light explained, abashed for his rudeness. This didn’t last long, as his attention span was completely exhausted by that feat, and he immediately moved to blithering on about literally everything. “Is that my voice? Is that what I sound like? Why do you sound so much different than me? Who are you?”
“I am Tanya Dosva.” Tanya said formally. “Psychonauts technician. Who are you?”
“Words? You’re saying WORDS to me?” The ball of light said in wonder. “This is amazing! Haha ha!” He startled at his own laugh. “What was that non-word sound I just made?” Oh boy. “Am I dying?” After a pause, he chuckled again. “No, I feel alive, very alive!”
The ball of light continued to blather on, ignoring Tanya in his own contemplations. ‘Who are you? Who am I? Am I everything? Am I god?”
“Absolutely not.” Tanya said loudly, shutting down his monologue. “You are a previously unidentified brain in possession of the Psychonauts.” She explained.
“I am not ready for words that big yet.” The ball of light said, cringing back at Tanya’s vehemence. “But I am definitely feeling like the universe, or some kind of cosmic oneness.” Well, given that this brain was unbodied in the early sixties, the fact that it was a hippie really shouldn’t surprise her.
“You’re suffering from extreme sensory deprivation.” Tanya deadpanned. “Fortunately, you should have access to some sensory data soon. Allow me.” She plucked the ball of light from the air, and placed it on her forehead. Slowly, a bit at a time, she passed on the instructions on how to link up to the mobility capsule’s sensorium.
“Woah, that’s trippy.” The ball of light said. “Now that’s some cosmic oneness.”
“If you link up with the mobility capsule now, you’ll see that the universe is much larger than this mental void.” Tanya said tiredly. Did he have to put it that way?
“Right, right. Now…” He paused. “You know, you’d make a kick-ass soprano.” He said. Oh? Was he musically inclined?
“I’ve only ever been a treble.” Tanya explained. “I haven’t sung in any kind of formal context in over a decade.” The last time she sang in a non-shower, non-karaoke context was in the church choir, twenty-five years ago.
“That’s a damn shame.” The ball of light said sadly. “You sound like you’d have an awesome range, too.” He wasn’t wrong…
“I’ll tell you what.” Tanya said, irritated with the distractions. “If you manage to link up to the ball, I’ll help you test your hearing with a nice song.” She knows a few…
“Sounds like a plan!” He said gleefully. Idly, Tanya instructed her archetype to minimize the sensitivity of the artificial senses.
The darkness suddenly lit up slowly, streaks of color appearing in the sky before melting into a blanket of stars. Each streak of color was accompanied by a clear note of music, with the stars heralded by what may or may not have been a guitar solo but with wind chimes. “Woah…” The ball of light said. “Where am I?”
“You’re in my home.” Tanya explained. “That’s vision…” and sound?
“Okay, next is…” He paused. Nothing else changed. “It’s not working!” He cried in despair.
“Try the next one.” Tanya instructed.
“Right.” The ball of light said. After about two minutes, he trembled again. “Nothing!”
“Let’s get back to that later.” Tanya said. “What do you see?”
“Colors.” The ball of light said immediately. “Trippy ones. Yellows and oranges and pinks… is that a bit of blue?” As he named the colors, sounds echoed around his mind, and the mention of blue created a scent that Tanya couldn’t quite identify.
Hrm. “It appears that your vision is not calibrated properly.” Tanya suggested. “If we resolve that issue, perhaps other senses will become available.”
“Vision!” The ball said angrily. “Always bossing everyone around.” After a moment, he grumpily added: “Although he did always get everyone pointed in the same direction: Forwards.”
Tanya looked around. Wait, was that… a silhouette? It was blobby and indistinct, but it was clearly something, rather than the nothing everything else was. A memory? Upon further review, there were several such blobs. Interesting… “I don’t have a lot of time left until I need to go to bed.” Tanya said, checking her watch. Nine-thirty… She’ll definitely need to prompt them if they’re going to go to sleep on time. “I’m going to try turning up the visual sensitivity; remain calm while I do so.” She issued appropriate instructions to her archetype.
The stars in the sky flashed, colors spilling around the sky, with musical tones echoing with each burst. More than that, Tanya felt the textures of the colors and experienced the flavor and odor of each one, all five of her basic senses stimulated by what should be purely visual information. Wait, wasn’t there that neurological disorder around senses getting mixed up? Synesthesia? That could be what’s happening. Was this natural, or a side-effect of the isolation causing some crossed wires?
“Ah! Bright!” The ball of light shouted ironically. “Loud! I’m not ready for this, nononono!” Quickly, Tanya ordered her archetype to shut off the ball’s psitanium camera.
“Remain calm.” Tanya ordered. “You are experiencing sensory overload. I’m shutting it off now. Do not…”It was too late. The riotous lights and cacophonous sounds manifested into a beast made of an animal skull puppeted around by a body that sparked and fuzzed like television static, trailed by an aura that shifted into all the colors of the visual spectrum. “...have a panic attack.”
Panic attacks were, by and large, considered the most dangerous mental entities of the ‘standard’ varieties. That is, the ones that didn’t have any kind of logos backing them; they were pure emotion, not the manifestation of nightmares or anything more hazardous. Bad Moods and Judges competed with them, but of the three, the panic attacks were the hardest to deal with for the ‘average’ psychonaut.
For Tanya? It was just a matter of waiting for it to commit to an attack so she could blow its head off with a PSI blast that she charged up while waiting. They were fast enough to dodge them, but they couldn’t do that and attack. Her passive barrier handled the projectile without much issue, although she’d rate the strength of the impact as equivalent to some twelve gauge buckshot. Reasonably powerful, but not enough to break her shield.
Like a slap to the face, or perhaps a splash of water, the ball of light immediately calmed down when the panic attack was dealt with, his fear fizzling out without the entity sustaining it. The mental environment was dark again. “This is nice.” He said in a whisper. “Quiet.” That was a sentiment she could sympathize with. Her psychoisolation bed beckoned her.
Tanya brought her own voice to a whisper. “I think that’s enough for tonight.”
“You’re leaving?” The ball of light replied, panicked. “But… when will you come back? It’s been thousands of years since I’ve last spoken to someone!” Ah, of course. His sense of time should be all out of sorts.
“Actually, it’s been closer to seventeen years.” Tanya corrected. “That’s when your brain was found, and I doubt you were removed from your body for more than a few days before then.” Tanya assumed Agent Cruller had brought him there, from the evidence. Why the man decided to bring a brain to the Heptadome before effectively committing suicide Tanya didn’t know, but given that the nutrient fluid was only accessible to the Psychic Six at that time, there weren’t any other suspects.
Really, it could have been anyone. The pilot of the plane he took, perhaps? Was Agent Cruller attempting to silence a witness to the fact that he brought Lucrecia home? That lined up, if you assume the reason Agent Cruller went incommunicado was because he was trying to conceal Lucrecia’s survival from the other members of the Psychic Six.
It’s not important. What is… “I’ll give you my watch.” Tanya conceded. “It’s linked up psychically to a real one, so it will inform you of the objective passing of time.” There was no theoretical limit as to how many psychic links the pocket watch could maintain, but it had range limits in the real world. “Do your best to remember things, I’ll check in in the morning but I also have work to do. Once that’s over, we’ll try and get your vision re-aligned.”
“But, but… how will I survive?” The ball of light asked.
“If you’d like, I could turn the vision back on at a low setting so you could attempt to re-align it overnight.” Tanya offered.
“NO!” The ball of light said, panicked. “No, that’s fine. This is good. Quiet.”
“I’ll talk in the morning, then.” Tanya said as she brought out her smelling salts. She’s far past the need to have a physical copy of them on her person, although naturally she still had some stashed away.
Ugh, it stinks…
---------------------
“Truth or dare?” Were the first words that Tanya heard once she was back in the physical world.
Mary seemed torn. “Uh… dare!”
Amy adjusted her glasses and chuckled darkly. “I dare you… to kiss your sister!” She declared, pointing straight at Tanya’s recliner.
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
“Not in three lifetimes.” Tanya said immediately, starting to stand up and stretch.
“Aw, she’s awake.” Crystal said, disappointed.
Mary sighed in relief. “Ah, did your thing go well?”
Tanya shook her head. “His sensorium is not functioning properly; that is a necessity for my tests.” She explained, deliberately leaving out the part where ‘Harry’ was actually alive. Mary would want to get involved, otherwise. “I’ll need to do some intensive work on it tomorrow.” She took her pocket watch out of her jacket pocket and placed it on top of the mobility capsule. “In the meantime, don’t think I didn’t notice that you all neglected to brush your teeth when you changed clothes.” Tanya gave one of her officer grins to the collected girls. “Here I was thinking you all were responsible enough to stay up a little later than ten. Shows what I know.”
The girls whined and moaned at the accusation, but Tanya pointed at the bathroom. “Wipe that grease off of your faces while you’re at it. You don’t want to sleep with makeup on.” Tanya can’t actually say this from experience, but it was one of the tips that Mom gave her when she insisted that Tanya at least know how to use the stuff. Even if the thought of prettying up properly still made her chest seize in a complicated knot of emotion that even the best therapy the Psychonauts had couldn’t, or rather wouldn’t, fully excise.
…Did her men ever notice how wide of a berth she always gave the fronts of trains? She knew Visha noticed; it was in one of the memories she had to file away.
Once the girls were properly ready for bed, Tanya did her own evening routine, changing into her kitsune pajamas, brushing her teeth, and checking on the condition of her psychoisolation bed’s air recycler. Mary called her regular checks paranoid, but prudence and caution were not negative personality traits, as long as they didn't get out of hand. Tanya could never get to sleep without checking on the device that ensured that she wasn’t going to wake up suffocating in the middle of the night. Or worse, wake up far away from this life, from her family and friends.
It was a strange thought, to consider that there probably would never be a ‘never wake up’. Only the next life. It was a bit existentially terrifying, but she was as safe as was possible: important enough to be protected, not vulnerable to random actors, but also not important enough to be deliberately targeted. Strong enough that only organized efforts on large scales or actions by a limited number of powerful people could threaten her. She had time to come to terms with that reality.
Settling Harry’s capsule down on Mary’s bed (she wasn’t using it tonight, after all) and disabling all of the mobility features was a simple matter, and Tanya sequestered herself within her psychoisolation bed after one last broadcast of love to Mom, with only thoughts such as these to keep her company.
---------------------
“What an unusual dream…” Tanya muttered as she opened her psychoisolation box. It was like a tie-dye wonderland, a song and dance number with the details slipping from her awareness and memory as she thought of them. She still caught herself being surprised at having non-nightmare dreams in this life, but this was odd even by her standards.
Connecting to the mobility capsule telepathically, she sent a message to the mysterious ‘Harry Heptadome’. “Good morning. I hope the night wasn’t too harsh on you.”
A feeling of shock echoed back from the telepathic link. After a few moments, a reply arrived just as Tanya finished stuffing her still-clean bedding back inside the confined space she had just left. “I don’t know whether to be relieved that you’re real or worried that you wake up on your own at seven in the morning.” He replied, half-jokingly.
Tanya sent her incredulity over the link. “Have you ever had a proper job? Or even went to school?” Hopefully, the conversation will prove to be mentally stimulating to him, and make her job easier down the road.
“...I don’t remember.” He admitted. “Are you sure I’m not God?”
“Extremely.” Tanya deadpanned. “I’ve met self-proclaimed gods before, you’re much more pleasant company. Also, as I may have explained, you are a brain in a jar. If I wasn’t busy in the shower, I could look at it and see how ordinary your pink matter is.” One of the many differences in neurology in this world in comparison to the others was the fact that brains were pink instead of gray, and the vocabulary reflected this.
“Oh.” After a moment of digesting Tanya’s comment, he replied in a much better mood. “Thanks!” It was flattery, but flattery is one of the best tools one can use to cultivate connections, if wielded properly. “I guess I am just a guy with a spotty memory, huh?”
“The fact that you can still think at all is impressive at this point.” Tanya assured him. “Once we’ve straightened out your sensorium, it will be much easier for your associative network to start triggering connections and start bringing the rest of your mind online.” One of the things that kind of disturbed Tanya about psychic therapy is just how little knowledge was actually required to help. It was why the Psychonauts could work wonders in mental health just from a training course that was less than a year long. Mom’s nursing certification took longer than that.
With that context, the fact that True Psychic Tales distinctly avoided showing the inner workings of telepathic intrusion made perfect sense.
“I’m not sure I like the idea of being straightened out.” Harry sent, his unease apparent in his tone. “Has a bad vibe.”
Really? What an odd word association. Well, she supposes she shouldn’t throw stones about such things. Time for some rhetorical repackaging. “We just need to get all your senses on the same wavelength. Get you into the groove of things.” Tanya sent back.
That worked; the unease vanished. “Now that’s more like it!” Harry replied. “When can we start?”
“Not for a while.” Tanya admitted. “I have to go to work, and while I can maybe squeeze in a half hour helping you beforehand, I suspect I’ll need more time than that.” Wait… she forgot to exercise yesterday. Drat.
“Oh.” Harry replied, disappointed. “What do you do? Maybe I can help?”
“What do you know about psitanium?” Tanya asked idly as she finished drying off and moved on to brushing her hair.
“Don’t lick it.” Was Harry’s immediate reply. Well, he wasn’t wrong… psitanium tended to break down into mental energy in the presence of bodily fluids, including skin oils. Gloves are preferred when handling, even if it isn't strictly necessary. The list of which hydrocarbons did or did not count was actually fairly interesting.
“This may be outside of your expertise.” Tanya said, letting the man down gently. “I have a long day of thinkerprint scanner maintenance today.” Well, and maintenance on the brainframe, but that shouldn’t take longer than thirty minutes.
“Yeah, I have no idea how to do that.” Harry said. Nervously, he added: “I could sing while you work?”
Ah, now she understood. “I’ll take you along, don’t worry.” Tanya assured him. “I’m used to holding telepathic conversations while working.” Mostly with Mom, but they were both perfectly capable of splitting their focus while remaining productive. Routine maintenance tasks won’t need her undivided attention.
Tanya had time to finish her morning preparations before he replied. “That’s good.” Harry sent, calmer.
“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some ten year old girls to wrangle.” Tanya sent as well as said out loud, turning her attention away from the telepathic link and leaving the bedroom. As expected, all four of the girls were still in their sleeping bags on the living room floor in states of varying amounts of dignity. “Good morning, girls!” She shouted, causing the collected schoolchildren to all jump out of bed in fright, screaming. Well, except Mary. She just sat up and glared at Tanya for causing the ear-piercing wail. Worse than artillery sirens…
“You are a devil!” Accused Mary. “Repent for your sins!” Tanya laughed. If Being X hasn’t answered her prayers yet, he wasn’t going to. Unless, she supposed, there was some temporal delay in the transmission measured in years. But if it was that, Being X might have very well just given up in the face of having to travel that distance, much like how one would rather go without soy sauce instead of bothering to go to the conbini for more. He did seem like the lazy type…
“Get clean and dressed, I’m making pancakes.” Tanya said as she put on the apron. Crystal, Vicky, and Amy all cheered at this news, and even Mary conceded her position and went about her morning ablutions.
With that handled, Tanya started mixing up some batter. It wasn’t difficult, like true Americans this household used pancake mix. Like all people who knew how to actually cook, they edited the crappy pancake recipe on the box to provide better results. Does she need to make some for Mom? Some quick scanning determined that she had snuck in at night and was still in her room, although she was clearly not asleep. Ah, the screams must have awoken her. “Do you want some pancakes?” Tanya asked her telepathically.
Mom’s reply was hazy and muffled, signs of her presumably extreme fatigue. “That would be nice, Tanya. I got in at three in the morning, so thank you for handling your sister and her friends.” Four hours of sleep, quite unpleasant. But workable.
“I would have been more circumspect if I noticed you were sleeping.” Tanya sent back. “I apologize for the abrupt awakening. Would you like some coffee or will you be going back to sleep afterwards?”
“Coffee.” Mom sent. “9AM debriefing.” Truly, the life of a Psychonauts agent is fraught with hardship. Tanya remembered having to go to debriefings on four hours of sleep. It was terrible, so she sent some sympathy. Mom knew that she knew what that was like, so there was a mutual understanding that nothing more needed to be said.
Despite many attempts, Tanya never could make coffee that matched Visha’s own work, but operating the machine was trivial to add to her task list in comparison to the pancakes, bacon, eggs, and frozen juice that she was simultaneously preparing for a proper breakfast. It was more work than she ever used for food in either of her previous lives, but psychic powers made it a much more manageable task. As such, despite being lesser in raw power than the magic of her second life, she found that she vastly preferred the convenience and utility of psychic powers.
By the time each of the girls finished their morning primping, there was a plate ready for them. When Mom came in after they did, she was to all appearances perfectly put together. That didn’t mean she didn’t immediately drink the whole cup of coffee Tanya had prepared for her and then prepare a second one to drink more slowly, but she probably fooled the guests. Maybe Mary.
Setting an archetype to clean the kitchen, Tanya sat down with her own breakfast, keeping her eyes pointed towards the mess so her archetype could see what she’s doing. She should get one of those psitanium cameras to provide extra eyes… “This is really good, Tanya.” Vicky said, humming in pleasure.
“Did you have fun with your sleepover?” Mom asked the girls. She received wordless but positive replies. “That’s nice. I remember having sleepovers when I was a girl. Games, talking about boys…” Tanya was glad she missed that part. “We always went to Maria’s house because she was the only one with a color television. Those were new in the fifties.”
“Really?” Crystal asked, amazed. Mary snorted in laughter. Mom, as usual, seemed to be enjoying telling tales to actual children.
Bored, Tanya tuned out the conversation and reconnected to Harry. “I’ll leave for work early so we can speak to an expert before I clock in. I’m almost done with breakfast.”
“Aw man, I don’t remember ever having breakfast.” Harry replied. “Does it taste good? What about the texture? Can’t forget the visuals.”
“Once we get you back into the swing of perception, we could help each other on that subject.” Tanya sent back.
“What do you mean?” Harry asked.
“The reason I needed a spare brain was to test a device.” Tanya sent over the link. “It should create a virtual recording that provides a full sensory experience.” Which, incidentally, already had work done in the context of a psychic ability. The foundational work laid down by Helmut Fullbear’s Psychoddesy was developed by Agent Colton and allowed Tanya to skip a few steps when it came to developing direct sensorium interaction. Psychic abilities weren’t subject to patent law, fortunately for Tanya. Techniques were to a limited extent, but not the underlying science.
“That sounds like a feast for the senses.” Harry replied. “I can’t wait.”
“That will have to wait until your senses are restored to functionality.” Tanya sent ruefully. “Although… maybe not, that does give me an idea on how to illuminate your circumstances…” If the oppressive darkness of his mind prevented conventional exploration, could the artificial mental construction perform the same task? “I’m done eating, give me a few minutes.”
Bringing her attention back to the conversation, which seemed to have continued throughout Tanya's lapse of attention, she moved her empty dishes to the sink. With Mom here, Mary won’t be able to weasel out of doing them.
"You're a cool old lady, Mrs. Vodello." Vicky said, standing up to put her own dishes in the sink.
Failing to conceal her pain at the ‘old lady’ remark, Mom gently corrected the girl: “It’s just Miss Vodello.” Briefly, as she did every so often, Tanya thought about taking steps to nudge Agent Nein and Mom’s relationship one way or the other. It was sort of her business… Nah.
“I need to speak to Agent Mentalis before work.” Tanya announced. “I should get going if I want to have time.” Getting up, she opened up the door to her room and fetched Harry’s mobility capsule before stopping to give Mom a hug. “Love you.” She said before speedily walking out.
“Have a good day, Tanya.” Mom called out. “I love you too.”
Despite the setbacks, Tanya was feeling good about today.