Mark said deadpan, “Two crazy telepaths walk into a bar…”

  Leanne smirked, and an unbidden giggle escaped my lips.

  “Because you’re not a crazy field agent?” I asked teasingly.

  Mark just nodded, “I suppose that’s true. We’re all infected by it.”

  At that point we focused on our meals for a bit. It was actually pretty good.

  “Procedures?” I asked, “I mean, besides teleporting in and asking a single question, what else?”

  Mark tilted his head, “Just one question?” he questioned.

  I grinned, “The perfect question.”

  Leanne laughed, half amused by my confidence, and half amused by Mark’s reaction.

  “What questions is that?” she asked.

  I explained, “Have you ever modified the memories of a defendant? It’s perfect, because if they say no and it’s the truth, then it’s a false positive and we can dismiss it from the case. If they say no and it just feels like a hollow truth through my perception, then they are a verified victim under the criminal’s control. At that point we send them here to be fixed, and to extract the contact phone number. If they say no and it is an obvious lie, then they’re a knowing part of the conspiracy and can just be arrested and questioned back at headquarters. No matter how they answer that question, we’ll know their status immediately.”

  Mark said, “You’re assuming no matter what they’ll say no.”

  I nodded, “If they’re stupid enough to joke around during a federal investigation, it will still be easy to divine the truth by the answer. Unless of course they’re just dumb enough to admit being a part of things. That might even happen. But what do we do if they refuse to answer? Assume they’re a co-conspirator and arrest them?”

  Leanne nodded slowly, “It’s not quite that simple, but that’s about what it will come down to. To answer your question, we’ll arrive on scene. Normally we’d have to apprise them, but they’ll already know they’re under investigation, being in protective custody, so there’s no need to do that part.

  “They’ll open their mind to you while you open your mind to me. Then we’ll ask the perfect question. I like that. Depending on what we find, the other team on site will act. Then the local team will take care of the rest, depending on how things fall out. It will all be recorded, and Hoover will also report everything said and done in the room. At the end of the day, we’re required to go over those notes, add in any pertinent thoughts we’ve had, and then sign off on the report.

  “Normally there is more to it, when a team is on a standard investigation and has to handle all the steps. But in this case, we have a very narrow piece of the large whole to worry about.”

  I nodded, “Apprise them of what, exactly?”

  She said, “That lying to a federal investigator is a felony. That if they fail to cooperate as a material witness in the investigation that they’ll be arrested for obstruction of justice. Really, if they refuse to let you in and read the truth of their answer, then they will be arrested and questioned as if they were a co-conspirator, not a victim. I can’t think of anyone that wouldn’t cooperate, if they were thought a possible victim. Memory diving yes, but revealing their public thoughts, no.”

  Mark nodded, “But people make stupid decisions all the time. It’s likely to be extremely easy to get a warrant for a telepathic questioning given the seriousness of the investigation. Then we’ll just break their shields and ask the same question, back here at the end of the day. They’d really be dumb, to not cooperate.”

  Hopefully that won’t happen. People tended to be a lot more focused on memories than their current conscious thoughts anyway. Most people didn’t even get a choice in that.

  She said, “Anyway, then the paperwork at the end of the day is a lot more extensive as well, but the teams put on detail will be handling most of it. We just have to handle the question part of things. In this case our thoughts will also be part of the chain of evidence, the two of us combined. In this case we don’t have to worry about physical evidence either, not us anyway. The other teams will have to when they retrieve their piece of the private quantum network.”

  Harold grunted, “It’s not that much work. It’s mostly a lot of reading. The reports are created by Hoover, in real time, we just need to make sure nothing was left out, and to clarify what we were thinking at times. She also handles the physical part of chain of evidence, since it will be her that collects and teleports the items with a mini-drone.”

  That made sense, and it was even a little familiar.

  “Is there a manual for all that. The reports and procedures in different situations.”

  Mark said, “We don’t want to scare you away.”

  Leanne chuckled, “Yes. It’s a bit dense however, and it’s gone over in detail in the classroom during the four months of training to be an agent. The course is about half classroom and half practical exercise. For your internship, just don’t touch anything at a crime scene, and you’ll be fine. We’ll fill you in on the basic day to day things as we go. The minimum, including reading and signing off on reports.

  “Hoover does do a lot of it, as Harold said. But it’s the bare bones facts and actions when we get it. We need to fill in the rest since she’s not in our minds. Our thoughts, what led us there, and what we took away from it at a human investigator perspective. Only facts though, no speculation. Speculation is for our case notes kept on our watch computers, including leads and such. Reports are just what happened, and they’re appended to the case.”

  I almost asked for it anyway, knowing I could probably memorize the thing in one quick readthrough over a couple of days. But I didn’t think they knew about my expanded mind capabilities, no more than they knew about me being a potential mind controller. It was bad enough they knew about the emotion flavored thoughts and memories part of things. I wanted to make a good impression, but it’d be a mistake to be a super overachiever.

  “That sounds fair.”

  Mark said, “If it’s still a little confusing, it’ll be cleared up in the next case as an intern. You don’t really have to worry about it for this large operation. Except what we tell you to. We won’t leave you guessing, and we’re happy to answer any questions if our instructions aren’t clear to you.”

  I smiled. They were all being really nice to me, and I got the vibes they were good people. It was too bad I had to keep my guard up, partly. I couldn’t forget they also had orders to discover if I was a tier-three telepath with mind control. That didn’t mean I couldn’t get along with them though, or even be friends. Just not… really close ones.

  It was all honestly a bit of a surprise, I’d expected federal agents to be harder, and more closed off. Maybe they were just on their best behavior, and also had orders to recruit me if they could. Or at least, influence me to consider a life in the FBI when I was old enough.

  Leanne nodded at Mark, “All true. Let’s get your super suit, it should be ready by now, and then settled into your guest quarters.”

  That sounded like a plan.

  Chapter Eight

  The single bedroom apartment was cozy in size and atmosphere. There was a full bath with a whirlpool tub in the back hallway, by the bedroom door. To the left of that was the entrance to the kitchen, which was the smallest room of the house. A hallway really, with a fridge, oven, microwave, and dishwasher in it, as well as an anemic amount of counter and cabinet space.

  The living room was cozy as well, just large enough for a single large couch, a coffee table, and across from it was a wall display with both entertainment and data access. The bedroom wasn’t bad either, with a queen-sized bed and medium sized dresser, as well as a smallish walk-in closet.

  The off-white paint on the walls was a little boring, but it had a warm light brown carpet everywhere but the kitchen and bathroom. The kitchen had white tiles, and the bathroom a baby blue tile. It wasn’t bad for where I’d be spending my nights and sleeping the next month, save the weekends when I was back home. A lot homier than a hotel room would be.

  At the moment, I was staring in the mirror and feeling a bit self-conscious about the super suit, which left very little to the imagination, yet covered everything from my neck to my toes. The yellow belt had a miniature dimensional energy reactor, which fueled the functions of the suit. Including an energy shield.

  The shield was powerful enough to protect me from collateral damage and the edge of explosions, but it would only attenuate the damage slightly if I was hit directly by a truly powerful energy or strength supervillain. It was better protection than nothing. The belt also functioned as a secondary teleport receiver if my watch was damaged, so Hoover could keep track of me and get me out of a mess.

  Lastly, the suit was really comfortable, and breathed far too well for my mental comfort. It honestly felt a little like I wasn’t wearing anything, compared to the weight and feel of normal clothes, which no doubt attributed to my feelings of self-consciousness.

  I mean, I looked pretty good, for a lithe sixteen-year-old that still had some chubby left in her cheeks, not to mention some growth to go in the chest area. Not that it was non-existent, but I had hopes I’d at least match my mother’s generous B cups when I was done growing. It was too much to hope for more than that, and really that would be enough. My mother was gorgeous, after all. I also had my hair up, and a light application of makeup.

  I shook my head, I looked like a child playing dress up. If the agents laughed at me, I’d have to put them out of my misery. Not really, but… I blushed. At least I had the start of some curves in my hips, chest, and behind, but I was still far too gangly for my own comfort.

  Really, it was a bit embarrassing, and I hadn’t wanted to include it in this account. Except it was important to the story.

  Important, because it was also a stark reminder that I was just sixteen, and not fully grown. After my quickening it seemed like I’d matured ten years in the last seven weeks, mentally and emotionally speaking. Even if I did have a few backslide moments now and then. But that maturity, especially the emotional part, wasn’t truly me. It was my power, that sense of peace that influenced me all the time.

  Without that, I suspect I’d have been a total mess approaching a major meltdown, and at least as rebellious as I had been before I’d quickened. If not more, out of angst. But it was what it was, my power was part of who I was, so there was nothing to do about it, and no way to change it. All things considered it was even a good thing for the most part.

  I had to face life, no matter what I looked like in this suit. I couldn’t hide under my bed all summer waiting to finish growing, like a plant.

  So I headed for the door, knowing I’d find the rest of the team in the dining hall for breakfast. Not just because Hoover was keeping me updated through my watch, but because I had mental tabs on all three of them, not to mention the thousands of others in the building. There was still about an hour before we’d teleport to the first site, wherever that turned out to be. The rest of the agents on the operation would be leaving a half hour before that for initial contact and preparations.

  I was nervous, also excited, and that was very normal. At least, normal for the crazy people like me that wanted to be superheroes.

  Carla Rizzo was the first court officer we arrived at, and I only knew that because of the nameplate on her desk as we teleported in. The only thing I knew for sure was we were somewhere on the east coast, since the courthouses would be closed still in the other time zones. I didn’t even bother checking my position with my watch, it didn’t matter. I’d find out what cities we’d gone to when I read the report later tonight for the day’s work.

  The two agents were standing against the wall by the two doors, one to the hallway and the side door into the courtroom. Carla looked a little nervous behind her desk, and I didn’t really blame her. From her point of view, she wouldn’t want to believe her mind had been compromised and she just couldn’t remember it. It was likely she was even programmed to be dismissive of the idea. Like Jason, it would be her sense of duty that allowed her to submit to it.

  The agent on the inner door spoke first, looking directly at Leanne, “Maam, she’s agreed to cooperate with the investigation.”

  Carla nodded, “I don’t think it’s necessary, but I’m not going to fight you on it. Just ask your questions so I can get back to work.”

  Mark’s and Harold’s thoughts had gone frosty, and they had trotted out their FBI faces. I wasn’t too worried, since I didn’t detect any thoughts in the building or around it that were alarming. Save perhaps the suspects here for trial, but their thoughts weren’t about this case or any of us. But it was still nice to know how vigilant they were being about my safety, and Leanne’s of course.

  I was careful not to think of anything I shouldn’t as I mentally invited Leanne into my mind to share my perceptions and public thoughts. Only once she was inside did I reach out and politely brush Carla’s shields with a wisp of thought. The court officer let me in, and she was clearly shocked at how young I looked and that I was doing the questioning.

  I managed not to smile, barely.

  “Just one question. Did you modify the memories of any defendants?”

  Carla shook her head, “No.”

  It was really stark. Her current thoughts were laced with annoyance and a little nervousness. But when she’d said no it was like someone else had said it, the echo of it in her thoughts I mean. Empty.

  Leanne sent, “Wow, that was really clear. I was expecting it to be more subtle than that. A hollow truth indeed. Amazing,” then out loud even as she pulled herself out of my mind and I retreated from Carla’s, “Officer Rizzo. You are a victim of mind control and are now a material witness in our investigation. We’ll be taking you into protective custody, where a mentally supervised memories expert will deprogram you and extract critical data. This will not impact your career, and if you choose to, you’ll be able to report back to work in around a week.”

  Carla looked disbelieving, but she didn’t run. In denial I suppose, the horror of it would hit later. I hoped she’d be okay.

  The two agents in the room approached the desk, and one of them asked her to stand. When she did, the three of them teleported out.

  One down, sixty-seven to go. It only took about five minutes. I doubted they’d all go so smoothly, but if they all went that fast then we’d hit most of them in the first day. More than half at least, taking breaks and lunch into account. Which was a good thing, not because I begrudged working three days on phase one. It was just the faster we were able to get it done, the less time the enemy would have to set up ambushes or cover his or her tracks.

  Leanne said, “Bring us to the next one, Hoover.”

  The next three locations went smoothly for the most part, like the first. It was the fifth city we visited that went south faster than was reasonable.

  We appeared in another court officer’s office, Leonard Carswell.

  I was completely taken off guard, again. Which was quite annoying. I’d been assuming if we were ever attacked it’d be five agents and myself against whatever the enemy brought, having two local agents on our side already when the four of us arrived. But nope, I hadn’t been evil enough in my expectations.

  As soon as we appeared the one in front of us to the left by the side door raised his hands which started to crackle with energy. The one behind us attacked too, and if he’d hit me I’d have probably just died. As it was, Mark grunted loudly as he flew forward across the room, barely getting his shields up before he slammed against the wall.

  Mark still passed out, likely from the first impact and the sudden start and stop of momentum which must’ve shaken his brain.

  Lightning coruscated as it shot at us from the other agent, but only for a split second as my mind reached out and for the first time, I slammed the sensation of sleep paralysis into the electrical energy agent.

  Sleep paralysis in homo-sapiens kept them from moving so much in their sleep, even while dreaming. For homo-potens it was even more than that, it put a check on our powers. That way an energy wielder wouldn’t blow up their house if they had a nightmare. It was a self-preservation thing of the subconscious.

  He collapsed as the electricity cut off. It was harder than I thought it would be, and it took constant effort to keep him down. He was conscious after all, and his own power and mind was fighting the sensation.

  The court officer also attacked me, tried to overwhelm my mind with a telepathic blast, like I’d taken down that supervillain. Honestly, I hardly even noticed. He was just that much weaker mentally than I was, it wasn’t even a strain on my shields.

  At the same time that went on, I’d also been listening to the fight behind me. As Harold beat the crap out of the other agent with physical abilities. His superspeed and superstrength meant he was punching about forty times for each one of the other’s strikes, which pretty much missed because he was too slow to land a punch.

  I split my focus and took down that agent as well, sleep paralysis making him collapse akimbo to the ground. It was a lot of effort to maintain on two, but not a mental strain yet. I suspected I could hold maybe one more that way, but no more than that. Point being, it wasn’t nearly as easy as reading fifteen books at once or holding twenty mental conversations.

  Leanne hadn’t been passive that whole time either, and as I reviewed the minds around us in the sudden quiet, I discovered she’d taken down the court officer with a powerful sensation of peace. Blissful peace. Which was a good idea. Leonard was smiling dottily and not moving. More than that, it worked on a mental level, not just a physical sensation. Which meant the target wouldn’t actively resist or fight it. Making it a far better choice than sleep paralysis.

  So much for being brilliant. Not that I wasn’t, but experience meant more in a lot of cases. I should’ve picked her thoughts last night about battling as a telepath. I’d use that one next time, I bet I could hold a whole lot more criminals with my mind than three, using that approach.