Chapter 30

10 years Post apocalypse

Failure

After Ian's dragon companion, Greta, dropped him off in front of the Fortress, Ian did nothing he didn't have to for the next six months. He didn't see the point. He wasn't eating, sleeping, or even speaking unless he had to. When he spoke, he answered questions in monosyllables.

The day Greta dropped him off at the Fortress, he was dragged in front of the council. He spoke in a wooden monotone, showing them the pictures he'd taken with his cell phone. He told them how a distant small city had tried to ambush him and Greta, and what Greta had done to the inhabitants of that small city.

He didn't tell them how much their dying screams haunted him. He'd tried everything he could think of, done things no other human had succeeded in doing, and it was all for nothing.

He spent hours studying himself in the mirror. Over the years, he'd become gaunt, emaciated. His sunken eye sockets were shadowed from lack of sleep. Though he was only 23 years old, crow's feet were beginning to show around his temples.

When he moved, he looked and felt weak and shaky. He walked with a limp. He wasn't sure of the cause, but healing boosters didn't help.

He lay around in his room, a lot, which, thanks to Dad and Gabe, had been enclosed in a much thicker version of a psychic inhibitor helmet. It wasn't perfect, but it was an order of magnitude better at suppressing psychic energy than anything else he'd encountered. This, combined with Buddy waking him from his many nightmares, allowed him to sleep in the fortress without putting everyone's lives in danger.

He quit taking Red Scourge. The short-term boosts to his gift weren't worth the long-term effects on his health.

Those first two weeks of Red Scourge withdrawal had been the worst. Sometimes all he could do was lie in bed shaking uncontrollably, but he got better.

Winning the game was impossible. Bringing Stacy back was impossible. It had all been for nothing. He thought about suicide.

***

The next few years of his life fell into a simple pattern. A friend or family member, usually Dad or Uncle Ben, would drag him out of his room and make him be social. He'd go along until he could get away. Occasionally, the Fortress had an alien emergency, at which time he and Buddy would go out and deal with it. Buddy was now the size of a small elephant, and could run faster than any motor vehicle the Galactic Market saw fit to provide, without having to stop to recharge.

Occasionally, someone from the outlying districts, like Captain Bradley's, would get a high-level alien or aliens, or need him for something else that couldn't wait. He'd drag himself up, and he and Buddy would go deal with it.

The world held too much pain; he decided. He started trying to use his gift to decrease the physical and mental pain in the people around him. His first attempts were abysmal failures, but he grew better. He even started volunteering at the clinic.

“It seemed like a good idea at the time, to go to podiatry school, help a few old ladies with their feet problems, make the big bucks,” the Fortress's podiatrist and only physician said. “School was harder than I thought. Turns out a lot of things can go wrong with feet, but I made it through. Then those damn aliens show up and ruin everything.”

“I just wish I had feet,” the patient said, sounding miserable.

“They'll grow back, don't worry,” the podiatrist said, patting the man's good shoulder.

“Your pain is from neurons signaling other neurons, so I accepted those neuron messages into myself and then I neutralized them,” Ian said. “I also did some work on your trauma, so you won't get addicted to opiates.”

“What's he doing here?” the patient asked the podiatrist. “Wait. I'm feeling no pain now. I mean, I kind of feel it, but it doesn't hurt.”

“That is impressive, Ian. You can do that now?” the podiatrist asked.

“I'm trying to use my gift to help people, instead of killing them,” Ian answered. “I was going to drop by the extended-care ward and do the same for them.”

“If you want, Ian, you can follow me around, give me a hand, and I'll show you more of what I do here.”

In a small way, Ian learned to make the world a happier place. He learned what came after Psychic Advanced. It was Master.

BG quickly assured him that if there were any other Master Level 1 psychics in the world, they would be doing far better than he was.

He got other psychics together and suggested they form a group mind to increase their collective abilities.

As soon as they succeeded in forming a group mind, their first action was to kick Ian out of their circle. He was throwing off their psychic balance, or something, and they were all afraid of him.

This sort of treatment was the norm rather than the exception. Ian's reputation as a beastmaster and psychic killer ensured wherever he went, people gave him lots of space.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

He left their psychic circle alone but kept an eye on them. The last thing he wanted was for them to go crazy and take over the place, like what had happened in Paradise Valley Refuge.

In the meantime, Gabe and Sabrina were raising a family. Gabe's oldest son and firstborn, was five, and already showing an aptitude for both wizardry and martial arts.

***

Ian would have avoided this tedious family gathering if he could. Loud music was playing. Uncle Ben was getting drunk and arguing with Dad about some trivial Fortress modification. Kids were running around screaming and all the women were sitting around a large table, drinking and playing cards.

“Gabe, don't do it,” Ian said, when he was able to speak to Gabe in private.

“I can't believe you single-handedly tripled the price of Kityfruit brandy,” Gabe said, looking sadly at the empty bottle in his hand. “And you don't even like Kityfruit.”

“You can afford it. Anyway, children do like Kityfruit,” Ian responded. “And I've seen how much healthier and more vigorous they are with a Kityfruit diet.”

“No evidence for that,” Gabe said. “Mrs. Wilcox just bent over backwards for you and passed that anti-business Ian-the-Asshole law.”

Ian sighed. This was one of the many reasons he hated family gatherings. “I think Mrs. Wilcox didn't want to be associated with Monster Fruit gatherers muscling aside local communities for access to Kityfruit trees, and then offering the Kityfruit to the same community's children in exchange for sexual favors. All things considered, I handled the situation very nicely.” And thank god Buddy smelled the cyanide-laced coffee, sent to me by the gatherer's bosses and owners of Monster Fruit.

“One or two bad-apple fruit gatherers misbehave and now they can't harvest any Kityfruit tree near human populations. We'll see how Mrs. Wilcox does in the next election,” Gabe said. “I'm curious. Did they find out what happened to Monster Fruit's previous owners?”

“No sign of aliens, or foul play,” Ian said, “so we're thinking it must have been natural causes. Odd how they both died within hours of each other.” Like someone mind-killed them. And I will make sure Mrs. Wilcox has no problem winning the next election.

Gabe snorted. “Maybe they were under too much pressure from a certain anti-business asshole,” he said, tossing the empty bottle into the garbage and opening a full one. He refilled his glass and took another drink.

“Somehow I sleep at night,” Ian said. “Look, Gabe, I know what you're planning. Don't do it.”

“Don't do what?” Gabe asked.

“I'm psychic, Gabe. I know everybody's secrets and mostly I keep them to myself. If you do what you're planning, Sabrina will never forgive you.”

“And you're going to tell Sabrina what, exactly?” Gabe asked.

“Not a thing. I just don't want to see you lose what you got here.”

“I know you're proud of your mental gifts and your pet Kitykity,” Gabe said, “but I am an order of magnitude stronger than you are now. If you mess with me, I'll destroy you. And your Kitykity.”

“Calm down, Gabe. You're my brother. If she finds out, it won't be from me, I promise.” Any more threats and I'm putting your drunk ass to sleep.

“She'd better not.” Gabe stormed away, a bottle of brandy in one hand and his glass in the other.

Ian left the gathering. Idiot. He understood his brother being tempted to cheat, but why would he be tempted by her?

***

A month later, he heard Sabrina's voice outside his room. Don't let her in. Ian mind-spoke to Buddy.

The hallway outside of Ian's room had been enlarged so the elephant-sized alien could lie down outside Ian's doorway, protecting him from nightmares and unwanted visitors.

“Hello, Buddy. You are the cutest. You know I love you, but I'm here to cheer up Ian, and you're psychic, so you know I'm telling the truth.”

“Rrrrrrr,” Buddy said, moving away from Ian's doorway.

Thanks a lot, Buddy. Traitor. He could feel Sabrina's anger from where she stood in the hallway.

Sabrina entered his room. “Hi, Ian. I'm here to cheer you up.”

“You found out about Gabe,” Ian said.

She sat next to him on his bed. “I knew your brother, my ex-husband, was up to something, so I followed him.” She took out her cell phone and pulled up a video. “That fat whore. Can you believe he left me for that?”

Oh brother. Phoebe was much better endowed than Sabrina, but Ian wouldn't call her fat. “Wow. They're really going at it. Were you watching from the bedroom ceiling?”

“Of course. I wore a camouflage cloak.” She put the phone away. “How could he cheat on me with that?”

“Sabrina, I want you to think of me as a neutral party. I think Gabe's an idiot too, but he's still my brother.”

“I didn't come here to talk about my problems, Ian. A lot of people think you're strange, creepy, and are frightened of you. But you have always been my favorite Anderson brother.”

“My experience is if many people think something, there's often some truth to it,” Ian responded.

Sabrina yanked the bedsheets off Ian's bed. “You're depressed, Ian, and I'm going to cheer you up. We will start by cleaning up your room.”

“If you're using me to get back at Gabe, I'm not interested.”

“This has nothing to do with Gabe, Ian. Anyway, Gabe is too busy fucking fat prostitutes to care what either of us does. We're cleaning your room and you need a bath.” She piled his bedsheets and dirty laundry in the middle of his room.

Oh, brother, he thought, sensing what was to come. When Sabrina cheered someone up, she did not do half-measures. He wasn't looking forward to the repercussions of what they were about to do, but he also wouldn't refuse.

This was going to be a long day, and night.

***

“Absolutely not,” Ian said. “If I bring a child into this horrible world, it wouldn't be fair to the child, or me. I can't protect it. It'd just get eaten.”

“It's not that bad,” said Sabrina, walking next to him, holding her youngest, a one-year-old girl that Sabrina, with her Chinese princess character build, had named Chou-Xing. “I have four children with Gabe, all four of whom are still alive. Since we're together now, it would be only right that I have your child.

Over the last few months, Gabe had handled Sabrina's leaving him for Ian about as well as could be expected. Meaning they were lucky the Fortress was still standing. To make matters worse, Phoebe, damage done, had discarded Gabe and moved on to someone else.

Ian and Sabrina were wandering around the marketplace. Ian enjoyed the cool April breeze and the smell of springtime. He felt happier than he had in years.

“You've been very fortunate, Sabrina,” Ian said. “How many of your friends can say the same?”

Sabrina looked away. “The world is a dangerous place, but between your mental gifts and my skill with the sword, we can handle anything.”

A huge gray dragon appeared in the middle of the fortress. Before either could react, an invisible force yanked Sabrina's child from her arms. Her baby girl flew up and into Greta's mouth. Greta vanished as suddenly as she appeared.

Sabrina screamed.