Politics, politics, politics. Politics and war.
It was all anyone talked about anymore.
While the others were reasonably impressed with my enchantment to ward off bullets, they still - barring Alice - were firmly opposed to me trying to emulate Superman.
Every day, I read the newspaper. People kept dying from stupid things. Every single death felt like it was my fault. I could save them, but instead, I sat here in my house all day, improving my enchantments, wishing I could save them.
And why didn’t I? Because I was a coward. A stupid, idiotic, imbecilic coward, who was too afraid to step forward without friends supporting me. Without people making decisions for me.
Even though I believed this, still, I did nothing. It gnawed at me each day, woke me most nights, left me screaming in my own mind. Yet the idea of stepping forward, alone, without the support of anyone I held dear…
I just couldn’t. I despised my own weakness, but had no idea how to be otherwise.
It was fun, and strangely painful, to read the Superman comics and wonder how I’d save the people in the story, if I were able to go.
At least I was able to work on my enchantments. Even if I wanted to go the Superman route, I needed to have them done first anyway. I could pretend I wasn’t a coward, when I was working on them.
Once I was satisfied that my bullet enchantment was was done with its “battery” and general refinement, I began work on another. I’d need some sort of disguise ability.
I had to have an enchantment to store the precise knowledge of my form - facial structure, hair texture, and so forth. If I were going to make a significant change to my appearance, I needed to have a way to return to what I truly looked like. If that knowledge were lost, it was extraordinarily difficult to regain - far beyond my skill.
Over the next couple of weeks, the aggression from hurt hearts towards Lou and Slick died down. The newspapers almost exclusively focused on the war again. Alice and Slick were still on the rocks, with Alice never staying in his room, even when she did sleep at our house. The pawn shop was doing quite well, and occasionally, when bored, I’d help out in the store itself.
The idiot “bears” - which Lou informed me was the Irish Mob, apparently - didn’t come back. They didn’t even try to extort me with my secret, to my surprise. I kept expecting a letter with some sort of blackmail attempt, but when nothing came in, I just had to conclude that they’d been frightened sufficiently after all.
Lou and Slick preferred to act as though that day had never existed.
Far as we could tell, from the newspapers, the club fire had been written off as an accident, with toxic smoke causing hallucinations in many of the victims. The water main was the only damage the city itself really was annoyed about, but it was written off as faulty construction, since it was the only conceivable explanation for the type of damage it had taken.
It seemed like the events of the fire were entirely behind us.
That is, until September 27th.
“I’ll get it,” Lou said, heading over to the door one Wednesday morning.
I just glanced her way from the living room, but continued sipping at my tea and reading the paper.
“Hello, yes, hello,” came an enthusiastic sounding male voice from the door.
“Um… hi,” Lou said, sounding a bit taken aback. “How can I help you?”
“This is the house of Oscar ‘Slick’ Williams, if I am not mistaken?” the voice said.
“...yes?” Lou said.
I gave up on the newspaper and watched Lou, curious.
“Very good, very good,” the man said. His voice gave me the impression that if he had a tail, it would be wagging excitedly. “I am Professor Rhine of Duke University in North Carolina, and I’m a researcher of parapsychology. I’ve been absolutely fascinated by the investigation into the fire at the Cocoanut Grove, and I was hoping to ask him some questions.”
Parapsychology. If I had no idea what that word meant, then neither did Lou.
“We’ve answered a whole bunch of questions about that already,” Lou said. “I don’t think we’ll be able to do anything for you.”
“Oh, but these would be very different questions,” he said. “I won’t take up very much of his time. Is he available?”
“I… let me go check,” Lou said.
She turned from the door and yelled for Slick.
Remarkably, Slick was almost sober, and wandered into view.
“You don’t want to answer any questions for this guy, right?” Lou asked.
“What guy?” Slick said, ambling up to the door.
My curiosity pulled me from my seat, and I walked up next to them.
“Mr. Williams,” Rhine said, his eyes bright with excitement, though his face didn’t show nearly so much energy. “Your sister doesn’t seem to appreciate the importance of the research I am doing. I am hoping you could be of assistance.
“Research?” Slick said. “What research?”
“I am Professor Rhine, developer of the field of parapsychology,” he said, sounding remarkably self important. “If I may come in, and ask a few questions?”
“Uh… sure,” Slick said, sounding a bit off guard.
Lou sighed.
“Thank you very much, sir,” Rhine said, and stepped into the house.
“Would you like some coffee?” I asked, half to distract him from the sour look on Lou’s face.
“Yes - cream and sugar,” he said, passing me only the briefest glance before locking his attention back on Slick.
This conversation intrigued me, so I used magic to hasten the coffee making process, so I could listen in sooner.
Moments later, I came into the living room to see everyone sitting around the coffee table. I set down the cups, and went to sit next to Lou.
“So, first off, what is ‘parapsychology?’” Lou asked.
Rhine gave her an oddly dismissive glance.
“It is the study of the interaction between the human mind and the paranormal - that is, things like extra sensory perception,” he said. “The ability to control things with the mind, to speak to the dead, to move objects, and so forth.”
“Speak with the dead?” I said, surprised. “That seems impossible.”
“Many things seem impossible to the uneducated,” he said, and Lou bristled. He didn’t seem to notice. “Mr. Williams, the point of my being here is that I believe someone with unique abilities was at the club that fateful night, and is responsible for saving all these lives.”
“Uh huh,” Slick said. “Hang on, I forgot to get a drink.”
“This is ridiculous,” Lou said, as Slick briefly excused himself, heading to the kitchen. “You think someone with special powers was at the club. Seriously?”
“Oh, very much so,” he said, giving her an arrogant smile. “You were there, were you not?”
“Yeah,” Lou said curtly.
“What I’d give to have been there,” he said, sighing wistfully. “To see what you could have seen!”
“I saw people getting burned and killed,” she said, looking decidedly annoyed.
“That’s a very short term way of looking at it,” he said. “Though that’s to be expected, from the fair sex.”
“Excuse me?” Lou said.
“Women are so taken by emotion,” he said. “It’s to be expected that you’d focus on the little details of some accidental injury, when faced with the greatest discovery of our century.”
“Little details…? People were killed!” Lou said, sounding furious.
“Yes, that has been established,” Rhine said. “Ah, Mr. Williams, welcome back.”
“Yeah,” Slick said, as he walked back over to the sofa. “So, why are you talking to us in particular?”
“It has been the aim of my entire life’s work to find concrete proof of the paranormal, to find someone with unquestionable ability with extra sensory perception,” he said, his tone more serious, but still with a current of excitement through it. “I believe I am finally on the brink of that revelation.”
“Right,” Slick said, sitting down a bit heavily, as he added some rum to his coffee.
“The evidence is unprecedented,” he said, his smile exclusively for Slick. “Material collected from the site defies analysis - smooth, and perfectly blended brick and concrete, near the false wall. The hole leading to the water main was not there previously - the dirt and concrete were found excavated, also blended, in a soft amalgamation never before created. The opening of the water main is perfectly circular, and most certainly was not caused by the club owner striking it with a hammer, as claimed. Eyewitness accounts, too, are not be be disregarded, and those are quite telling.”
“Maybe you skipped the bit with toxic smoke,” Lou said, scowling at him.
“Which affected even those from nearby bars, who had come to help?” he asked dryly.
Lou didn’t respond to that. Rhine smiled again at Slick.
“Whoever this person is, he is a hero,” Rhine went on. “Whatever concerns he may have about coming forward will be addressed by my department. We are working with the US government on this project, and have their support. This hero, once he demonstrates his ability to the government’s satisfaction, will be given all the aid, fame, and fortune he could possibly require.”
I perked up at that, though Slick seemed decidedly uncomfortable.
“This person, whoever he or she is, I’m sure has reason to want to stay in hiding,” I said. “Else, surely he or she would have come forth.”
“He certainly must be a male, as only a man would have the intellectual capacity for such abilities,” he said blithely.
I covered my mouth, trying not to laugh at the idea of how my mother would react to such a statement. Lou, however, was not amused.
“Further,” Rhine continued, either not noticing or caring about Lou’s expression, “Nothing would truly be able to force such a person into hiding, with abilities like he must have.”
“What abilities have you thus far found evidence of?” I asked, looking at him curiously.
Rhine’s responses were interesting. It was as though he were answering my questions, but for Slick’s sake.
I smiled at the abrupt realization - he believed Slick was his target.
And Rhine’s studies suggested that there might be others with magic in the world...
“Telepathy - that is, the ability to sense the thoughts of others,” he said. “That’s a common one.”
“Common?” I said. “Such an ability is… I mean, it would be quite dangerous.”
“A common claim, that is,” he said, then smiled at Slick. “Again, we’ve not been able to definitively prove the existence of extra sensory perception with proper scientific rigor as of yet. As far as dangerous, well, that is merely a sign of your own ignorance on the matter.”
Lou looked angry, but honestly I felt like laughing.
“Ignorance?” I repeated, amused.
“Are you an expert in parapsychology?” he asked disdainfully.
Lou coughed in my direction.
“I… well…” I hesitated.
“Precisely my point,” he said, and I frowned.
“To clarify, Professor,” I said. “You are saying that there are individuals who possess the ability to perceive the thoughts of others, but you do not believe this to be dangerous?”
“Correct,” he said.
“What about privacy?” I said. “Secrets? Avenues of potential manipulation?”
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“In the world that could be created with power like this, ideas like ‘privacy’ and ‘secrets’ are meaningless,” he said, his voice filling with passion again. “We will be able to remake humanity, so that our minds are linked together, and all knowledge shared equally. In such a situation, there would be no need to manipulate others.”
I blinked in astonishment. Had he no idea whatsoever of the horror he spoke so freely of? Had he thought about the downsides to such a situation to any degree? Was he mad, or just a fool?
He looked smug at my reaction, as though my slack jaw was in appreciation for his vision. Then he looked at Slick again.
“It has taken her time to see the obvious, but even she has managed,” he said. “The world is ready, Mr. Williams.”
“Ready for what?” Slick asked.
“Ready for the emergence of persons with abilities such as were demonstrated at the Cocoanut Grove, that fateful night,” Rhine said. “So let me ask directly - do you have powers of the mind, Mr. Williams?”
“Powers of the mind?” Slick said. “No, sir, I ain’t got anything like that.”
Rhine looked like a combination between stricken, disappointed, and disbelieving.
“But, Mr. Williams,” he said. “The evidence is really quite compelling. There are eyewitness accounts of you levitating people out of the building, including from those who weren’t exposed to the smoke.”
“I don’t know what to tell you,” Slick said.
Rhine frowned.
“Let me leave you my contact information,” he said. “If you change your mind, or if - perhaps - it was some other man at the club, and if any of you saw something…”
“Yeah, I don’t think we need your contact info,” Lou said. “This conversation is over.”
“It’s not up to you, miss,” he said, handing out a piece of paper to Slick, who looked completely disinterested in it.
“I’ll take it, sir, and keep it for him,” I said, reaching out for the paper.
Rhine sighed, and let me take it.
“As the head of this research project, I’ve been granted an office at Harvard University,” he said, still looking at Slick. “Please feel free to contact me at any time, if you have further information.”
“Not likely,” Lou said.
“Thanks for your time, sir, but you won’t find what you’re looking for with us,” Slick said.
“Perhaps,” Rhine said, as he got up. “In any case, I hope we meet again sometime, Mr. Williams.”
Lou led him to the door, with a bit more force than usual. Once he was outside, she closed the door with similar force.
“That man is an ass,” she said, glaring at the door.
“Yeah,” Slick said. “He’s pushy, and he’s arrogant.”
“But also at least a little intelligent,” I said, “Right? To be a professor, to be a scholar, this is no minor thing, correct?”
“Well, yeah, but he’s still an ass,” Lou said.
“But a delightful blend of intelligence and foolishness,” I said. “He believes women are inferior -”
“Which contributes to him being an ass,” Lou noted.
“Yes, yes, but that means he’s not likely to suspect me,” I said. “I can talk to him! I can get information!”
“What kind of information?” Lou asked.
“He said he’s working with the government,” I said. “Finding out what threats they may actually pose to me, finding out if there are others in your world with magical talent, seeing what the experts of your world might have thought of - such as that idiotic idea of mental linkage, and so forth.”
“What if he realizes it’s you?” Slick asked.
“If he does, I will negotiate accordingly,” I said. “I can guarantee that I won’t let it get out of hand - even if I must invade his mind. Though, of course, I would do no such thing unless he forces my hand.”
“Right,” Lou said, looking abruptly exhausted. She went to go sit on the couch.
Slick just looked uncomfortable again.
“This is valuable information, that I will need, because I will be coming forward at some point,” I said. “He believes the person he is looking for is Slick - he will surely believe I am approaching him to get information on Slick’s behalf, perhaps assuming that Slick isn’t coming personally, fearing a trap.”
“You might be giving him too much credit,” Lou said wryly.
“It’s an obvious conclusion,” I said, a little confused.
“To you, maybe,” Slick said. “Most people don’t think that way.”
I had no idea what he was on about, but I brushed it aside.
“The point is,” I said. “This information is valuable, and this is a good opportunity.”
“What are you getting at?” Slick said. “Asking for permission?”
“I… err…” I hesitated. That phrasing made it sound so… childish. Why, indeed, did I feel like I needed their permission? “Rather, do you have any objections?”
“Many,” Lou said. “He’s an ass, it’s an unnecessary risk, and you’ll probably reveal too much. But if it matters that much to you, I guess it’s fine.”
I was too hungry for this knowledge to be dissuaded by such a halfhearted agreement. The phone rang for Rhine’s office not ten minutes later.
The conversation with the receptionist for his department went well, and I was able to schedule a meeting for the very next afternoon.
I was unreasonably excited. Asking questions of someone who had valuable knowledge, without Lou and Slick holding me back…
So what if I slipped and revealed myself? I’d resolve it, and things would be back on my terms. Power negotiations, just as I’d been taught my whole life.
The time for the meeting came, and my companions wished me well with varying degrees of awkwardness. Clothing was a challenging choice. I desired to inspire respect, but not too much. Aesthetic appreciation, but likewise, not too much - it would be problematic if he developed too personal an interest in me.
With Dorothy’s help, I decided on an upper class looking dress that was decidedly out of date. With him being older, it should be taken well, but still seem a little off, ideally. As I usually did of late, I also did my hair in a typical updo of this culture.
Fluttering nervously, I arrived at the university a full hour early. I couldn’t help but laugh at myself. Time slipped away as I admired the landscaping they did. It was often incredibly impressive how much these people managed to accomplish without magic.
Once it was almost time, I went in and was directed by the Department of Psychology’s receptionist. Not long after, I found myself at his door, and knocked.
“Come in.”
The wooden door creaked open and I looked inside. Professor Rhine was sitting at a desk writing something down. It looked rather extensive from here. He didn’t hardly seem to notice my presence.
“What can I do for you, Ms. Koryn?” he asked without glancing up.
“You may recall the conversation we had yesterday at my home, with my good friend, Slick Williams?” I asked, taking a seat in front of his desk.
“Obviously,” he said, glancing at me briefly, if only to give me a dismissive look.
“Due to the unfortunate hostility that seemed to arise during that conversation, it was cut off perhaps too abruptly,” I said, wasting a smile on him. “There are concerns which an individual with such power as you propose might desire to be addressed.”
He finished writing his sentence before he spoke.
“And why would discussing the matter with you be of any use?” he asked, again not looking up from his work. “If Mr. Williams is who I’m looking for, then it should have been him who sought me out.”
His dismissive attitude was less and less amusing as time went on.
“Or perhaps the person whom you seek - not Mr. Williams, as it happens - is interested in finding out more information, and does not wish to reveal himself without said information,” I said.
He looked up at me, though his expression was still dismissive.
“Are you claiming to know who I’m looking for?” he asked skeptically.
“I choose to make no such claim,” I said. “I simply wish to acquire certain information.”
He gave no sign of even recognizing the bait, let alone taking it. I frowned as he looked down and sighed.
“As I suspected,” he said. “In any case, I see no reason not to answer whatever questions you have for the duration of this granted appointment.”
I was either being outmaneuvered to such a degree that I couldn’t see it, or he was legitimately so blinded by his preexisting beliefs that he didn’t notice what I’d said.
The temptation to peek into his soul to find out which it was plagued me for a moment… but I absolutely would not compromise my standards during such a situation.
And would it be more dangerous to assume that he was a fool, or to assume he was playing me? I wasn’t sure...
Whatever. I’d just ask my questions.
“First, what assurance would such an individual have that he wouldn’t be captured and forced into undesirable actions, by the government?” I asked.
“You clearly don’t have any understanding of the power involved here,” he said. “Someone with enough power to achieve what was done at the club would be at no risk from anyone at all.”
“Perhaps,” I said. “And perhaps that power has limitations which are concerning.”
“Whatever those limits may be, there still is no cause for concern,” he said. “The United States of America is an incredible country. It takes care of its own. Even immigrants like you are given all the rights and privileges of any natural born citizen. There is absolutely no reason to believe that our good country would be anything less than generously accepting of one of its people having parakinetic abilities.”
I cocked my head curiously at him. Interesting that his perspective was so profoundly different than that of the others I’d met. I pursed my lips and considered as quickly as I could.
Wealth was the only great divide that I knew of - perhaps my companions had suffered under the Great Depression due to being on the low end of that inequality, and their faith in government had suffered accordingly. Whereas others, such as Rhine, perhaps, may have done well enough. I already knew that many had been perfectly well fed even as their countrymen starved to death. If his research was funded by the government, as he’d said, then he and his companions could have literally been saved from devastation by the government.
A mere hypothesis, but a reasonable one, it seemed.
And if correct, would suggest that his faith in the government was more emotional than rational. Time to test it.
“If this person has not had any interactions with the government, and therefore is not yet convinced that they can be trusted, how would you reassure him?” I asked.
He sighed.
“Miss, just because you don’t seem to understand the obvious, doesn’t mean that this person of power would fail to grasp it,” he said, sounding mildly exasperated.
“Might you enlighten me?” I asked.
His disrespect was moving from mildly amusing to downright annoying.
“I’m certainly not in a position to attempt to educate a woman on such matters, not within a mere hour,” he said. “Were you a student, I suppose I would be willing to spare you the time, but that would never be the case, of course.
“Are women not permitted to be students?” I asked, surprised.
“They are permitted, of course, because of those new laws,” he said with a wry chuckle. “But it’s just to soothe the emotions of the fair sex. They can be so easily riled up. No woman could really achieve anything intellectual.”
“I’ve met some rather sharp women,” I said, forcing a smile.
“I’m sure you believe that,” he said. “But the fact is, it’s simple science - women are biologically different from men. They are less intelligent and more emotional. Every educated man knows this.”
“There are, of course, strange variations in birth,” I said, my frustration with his attitude increasing. “Some men are gibbering idiots, by a quirk of birth. Surely, by the same quirks, a woman could, theoretically, be born with the intelligence of a man, could she not?”
“Such a change would be far too extreme, I would think,” he said. “Even if it did occur, she would still be handicapped from true reasoning by her emotions.”
“And what if emotions were involved in the use of this power?” I asked, crossing my arms in irritation.
He raised an eyebrow and looked like he wanted to laugh at me.
“ESP is the advancement of the human intellect,” he said. “It would require a sharp mind to use. It would not be based on emotion.”
“You seem to know quite a lot about a power that you have never been able to verify in the entirety of your career,” I said, smiling too brightly at him.
“Yes, as you’ve stated, I’ve studied it for my entire career,” he said with a sigh. “It is my life’s work, and therefore, it is obvious that I know ‘quite a lot’ about it.”
“Still, you know nothing compared to one who wields this power,” I said.
“I wouldn’t say ‘nothing,’” he said. “Additionally, he may not know the full potential of his power. I may be able to help him unlock additional depths.”
“I believe we got off track,” I said, keep my expression genial. “My apologies for my distraction. I believe that you were going to tell me the reason why you believe this individual should trust the government utterly.”
He rubbed his forehead as though he were getting frustrated. He glanced up again, seemingly annoyed at me for continuing to interrupt whatever it was he was working on.
“Anyone who is familiar with the United States will understand why the government can be trusted,” he said. “The government is elected by the people, and is free from corruption. It was founded on principals of acceptance, equality, and individual freedoms. An ounce of education is all that’s required to understand this point.”
“Free from corruption?” I said. “You feel it is absolutely impossible for the public to have ever been misled, in any of this country’s multitude of elections?”
“You underestimate the American public if you believe that we would elect someone corrupt into leadership,” he said. “The news media keeps us informed, and they would catch corruption long before it reached any significant part of government.”
I suppressed a sigh and abandoned this line of questioning.
“Previously, you had stated that someone with this power could read minds, and so forth, and had stated that things like privacy were ultimately meaningless,” I said.
“That is correct,” he said.
“Surely, even you understand that such a phenomenon would take time, and the nature of the transition could be complicated,” I said, losing my grasp on the properness of speech. “During this transition, would there not be concerns about certain individuals wanting to gain advantage?”
“This person would have the ability to see any such problems in advance,” he said, not having caught the slight against him. “You see, miss, thoughts are projected from the mind, and are simply received by the person with ESP. It is an effortless process.”
His obstinant attachment to his ignorance was seriously beginning to get to me.
“What if this process were not so easy?” I asked. “What if it did take a measure of effort?”
He glanced up at me.
“What of it?” he asked.
“In such a case, would that not change the moral question to some degree?” I asked. “To actively pry, instead of passively receiving?”
“That’s not how it works,” he said, sighing. “Which makes this question pointless.”
“Even so,” I said, a horribly irresponsible idea occurring to me. “Would you still find it permissible for someone to access your mind?”
“People with this power would not need permission,” he said.
“Need, perhaps not,” I said. “But my question isn’t about them. It’s about you. Would you object to such a person actively, not passively, probing into your thoughts, your memories, your experiences?”
“No one who has nothing to hide would object to that,” he said dismissively.
“The multitude of things such a person might do,” I asked, my voice betraying my intensity. “Any of those things? Would you object to any of it?”
“I’ve already said I wouldn’t,” he said, clearly annoyed.
I stood up.
“I can call it confirmed, then?” I said, walking over to his desk, my presence forcing him to look at me. “You personally, Professor Joseph Rhine of the Duke University of North Carolina, you grant open permission to any individuals with power such as demonstrated in the fire of the Cocoanut Grove, to do anything with your mind as they wish?”
“I’ve already made that abundantly clear,” he said, giving me a frustrated look. “I don’t see why you seem so obsessed with the topic. If it makes you happy, then yes, I do give such permission, not that it matters. If we can move on?”
I started laughing. I couldn’t help it.
A fool, the like of which I never imagined possible.
“I assure you, sir, you have given me everything I could possibly need,” I said, moving towards the door. “And if this is a game you are playing with me, I would highly recommend that you change your approach immediately, before things occur which cannot be undone.”
“A game?” he said. “I have no interest in playing games. I have research to complete. If you are done, then you can see yourself out.”
I smiled at him, but he was already back to his work.
Just to confirm, I probed him with my magesense. This was no game. In fact, he was scarcely aware that I was present - he was essentially answering questions with half a mind, mostly focusing on his work.
The only thing I could quickly glean from his soul was a sense of dedication. Foolish though he was in dismissing me, he cared about his work. He was driven and honestly passionate, though the precise nature of his drive and passion eluded my passing glance.
“I can say absolutely anything to you, and you won’t understand,” I said, half to him, and half simply marveling out loud. “No matter what it is, you’ll believe it is the inane ramblings of an ignorant, uneducated, immigrant female.”
“I’ve understood everything you said, though you’ve somehow failed to see that,” he said, again dismissive.
“I think not,” I said. “Farewell, Professor. I’ll see you soon.”
He made a disparaging noise in my direction and I headed out.
This was going to be fun.