Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

From Paragon of Animals:

Garibaldi: My name's Michael Garibaldi-

Byron Gordon: Yes, it is. And the answer is no.

Garibaldi: Wait a second. You didn't hear what I had to say.

Byron Gordon: Yes, I did. I heard your proposition. I heard what you thought I would probably say in response. And I heard the counterarguments you planned to use. I know you're having discomfort with those shoes and that lunch is not sitting well with you just now.

Garibaldi: Not big on privacy, are you?

Byron Gordon: I did nothing.

Garibaldi: Wait a-

Byron Gordon: Do you know what a telepath has to do in order to avoid picking up stray thoughts? We have to kick down our natural abilities. Run rhymes and little songs through our heads, round and round. All that to keep from picking up what you're broadcasting loud enough to be heard halfway down the hall. You're one of those people who rehearses everything, Mr. Garibaldi. You never enter a situation until you've gone over it and over it a hundred times worked out what you will say what the other person will say, how you'll respond. It's quite remarkable. And extremely depressing. That little personality quirk must have cost you more than a few relationships. Mundanes want us to fill our heads with noise and babble so we won't hear what you're shouting at the top of your minds. I didn't need to scan you, Mr. Garibaldi. And even if I did, since you were here to ask us to do the same to others on your behalf you do not exactly have the moral high ground to complain, now, do you?

*****

2204. Geneva. Teeptown.

            Milla Baginski appreciated the privileges of having been raised in Cadre Prime, and chief among them the privilege to leave Teeptown – overnight, even. Most students couldn’t leave campus unsupervised until the Major Academy[1] – but Cadre Primers were special.

            Milla had entered the Corps at three, and she lived with her age cohort in the 3-5 cadre house. Back then there’d only been a dozen of them, all manifested telepaths.[2] Some of her cadremates had been in the Corps since infancy – Al, Milla knew, had practically been born telepathic.[3]

            Cadre Prime was the most prestigious of the cadres. Some kids had parents and grandparents who were important in the Corps, or came from “old families.”[4] Others, like Julia, whose name was pronounced the Mexican way, came from normal homes.[5] Julia had entered the cadre at seven.[6] She was only a P5,[7] but she came from a very wealthy Mexican family, who had arranged for her to have the most elite education possible in the Corps.

            Milla’s own parents were telepaths, who both worked in administration. Somehow, through favors or luck, they’d got her in.

            She looked forward to her off-campus trips. Growing up, she’d been especially close with several of her cadremates, and they’d stayed “together” even after entering the Minor Academy and moving to the dorms.[8] They often played soccer together on the quad, or ate lunch together between classes.[9]

            Well, all except Al. He no longer wanted anything to do with them.[10]

            The rest of the group had gone hiking, fishing, and camping together, even making short visits to the neighboring villages to eat at a café and buy souvenirs.[11] Every time they left Teeptown, crossed the walls and wire into the wide open world, they learned something new about each other, and about themselves.

            This month, they were planning a hike along a pass under Mont Blanc.[12] Brett had picked out the spot, and everyone usually did what Brett said. He’d been their unofficial leader since as far back as anyone could remember.[13] At over six and a half feet tall,[14] with deep, intense eyes, he was ruggedly handsome.[15] Everyone did whatever Brett said, because he was Brett.[16]

            Milla had a crush on him, as did most of the girls in the cadre, but that was as far as it went. The special closeness of the cadre wasn’t exactly like a sibling relationship, nor like the attraction she felt for older boys, all raised in their own age peer groups.[17] The bond between cadremates was, in a sense, “something different,” something unique.[18]

            Cadre Prime was a team. They felt, deep inside, that they had to “prove themselves” in unity compared to others[19]: both the other, “lesser” cadres, and especially to the “laters,” those telepaths who’d entered the Corps at adolescence and never lived in a cadre at all.[20] Cadre Prime knew each other as no one else did, or would.[21] They were tight-knit, they were proud, and they were special; it was them against the world.[22] It always had been that way, and Milla hoped it always would be.

            And that was why she found it so sad, and perplexing, that Al had taken such little interest in them since graduation. He didn’t want to eat with them, or play sports with them, or even chat with them after class or in the halls. As a child, he’d played the same games as everyone else,[23] but sometimes played too competitively,[24] or otherwise separated himself from the group.[25] Now, he shunned all social activities,[26] and spent every afternoon – rain or shine – in the West End MetaPol station, obsessed with the Corps’ lists of rogues, and progress with tracking them.[27]

            She wondered if perhaps his asocial behavior had something to do with being an orphan – his parents had been murdered by rogues when he was an infant.[28] Milla’s own parents used to visit often when she was little.[29] She imagined it must have been very hard for him to see his cadremates’ biological parents, but never to have any of his own. For some reason, he couldn’t trust anyone, even the members of his own cadre.

            Al had always been the brightest, the hardest-working student in the class.[30] Everyone respected him for that.[31] Why did he want so little to do with his peers?

            The Wednesday before the hiking trip, Milla and her former cadremates sat together in the quad eating lunch. Julia spoke up.

            “I invited Al to come hiking with us,” she said.[32]

            “Really?” Milla asked.

            “Dr. Bey suggested it.[33] I figured if an idea came from Dr. Bey, it must be a good one.”

            Dr. Sandoval Bey, a teacher of advanced criminology in the Major Academy, was one of the most respected adults in the school.[34] He’d once been the chief of all of MetaPol, before “retiring” two years later to become the station chief of Geneva.[35] Now he spent most of his time teaching future Psi Cops, though he was still one himself, and occasionally worked in the field on special assignments.[36]

            Milla found it interesting that Dr. Bey had taken an interest in Al, who wasn’t one of his students yet. It must be a Psi Cop thing, she decided. Al was a P12, and was clearly heading along that career path, so the criminology teachers were keeping a close eye on him.

            The Corps was Mother and Father. If one student was struggling socially or academically, the whole community made efforts to help.

            The more Milla thought about it, it didn’t seem strange that Dr. Bey would have been looking out for him. It wasn’t as if anyone could miss Al, after all. He’d won the Karges Award the year before,[37] for the highest marks in his class.[38]

            “What did Al say?” Milla asked.

            Julia nodded, taking a bite of her sandwich. He said it might be fun, she ‘cast, chewing. I told him to meet us Saturday morning at seven, at the Grabber.[39]

            A statue of William Karges, the secret telepath who had saved the life of EA President Elizabeth Robinson about fifty years earlier, stood in the center of the quad. Everyone in their cadre had nicknamed the statue “the Grabber” since they were little, because of Karges' position.[40] No one else called the statue that, just them. They had lots of words like that, that only they shared – like how they’d called the monitors “Grins” when they were small[41] – little “secrets” only they, or at least only other Cadre Primers, knew.

            “You think he’ll come?” Milla asked. That was so unlike Al.

            Julia shrugged.

            “Maybe if it’s a slow rogue day,” quipped Brett.

            As they sat eating the last of their lunch, a girl came over to their table. She was short, with red hair and freckles. Milla recognized her as Annie, one of the “laters” in her classes.

            “You really think you’re something,” Annie said, her face in a bitter sneer. “Cadre Prime this, Cadre Prime that. We can’t leave campus for three years, we’re stuck in here like a jail, and you’re going on another camping trip. You think that’s fair? I think you’re gross.”

            “It is fair!” Milla snapped. “We can leave campus because we grew up in the Corps, we know the rules, we know how to control our powers around normals!”

            “I hate you,” Annie grumbled, and walked away.

            Let her go.

            It was Brett. He held out a hand, and looked at Milla sternly.

            She sighed and finished her lunch.

NOTES:

[1] See Deadly Relations, p. 132-133, where Bester and his then-girlfriend Liz Montoya are out on a date in Geneva, going to a restaurant, churches and bars, and “Teeptown wasn’t even visible” from the top of the hill. They are nineteen, in their final year at the Academy, and "they had passes for the whole night - hard to get." I assume they were able to get the passes because of a combination of factors: their age, the fact that Al is former Cadre Prime, and the fact that they're both soon-to-be Psi Cops.

[2] Deadly Relations, p. 7

[3] Dark Genesis, p. 239-250, 267 (the Corps has him rated as a P12 when he's only a week old), Deadly Relations, p. 21.

[4] Lyta’s family is an example. See Deadly Relations, p. 215:

"You were in Cadre Prime?"

She nodded affirmatively. "My mother was the only woman in our line in the last four generations who wasn't. She was only a P2, so she was in the Basement at first, but when she was still pretty young, Grandma arranged for some relatives to raise her outside Teeptown. She was monitored, of course, but never actively attached to the Corps."

"Four generations?"

"Six, really - all the way back to Desa Alexander, back before it was even Psi Corps."

"Yes, I guessed you were from one of the old families, since you kept your mitochondrial name. I was a Cadre Primer myself, you know."

[5] Deadly Relations, p. 17-18 (Julia is from a normal home, and is just developing telepathy (slowly)):

There were only four new kids, a girl and three boys. The girl was pretty, with dark hair and green eyes.

Brett was already talking to her, though, as they watched the play.

"They aren't saying anything," she noted.

"They won't," Brett said. "You have to p'hear."

She shut her eyes. "I can almost hear..."

"P'hear," Brett corrected.

"I've never met another mind reader until a few days ago," she said, softly - apologetically.

See also Deadly Relations, p. 20 (the pronunciation of Julia's name).

[6] Id., p. 7, ("They wound their way past the 3-5 cadre house, where he had lived the year before, and it struck Al how small it was, compared to the 6-10 house where he lived now"), and Julia enters the Corps shortly after, on the next Birthday.

[7] Inference. Canon never explains how Julia got into Cadre Prime, so I speculate that her family is very wealthy, and her parents "bought" her slot. She is canonically a much weaker telepath than Bester and Brett (p. 17-18), and then later, she is shown making the decision to enter the Business track (p. 41), which is usually for weaker telepaths. See Deadly Relations, p. 8-9 ("P'squinting, Al could make them out - Keefa, anyway. Keefa was a weak blocker - she'd probably end up a busybody or a boot, but never a cop."). Some other children in Cadre Prime are weaker, too, though whether they come from normal homes or were born into the Corps isn't clear.

[8] Deadly Relations, p. 20 (cadres are broken up in the Minor Academy, so it's implied that students live in dorms). Later, we see Bester living in dormitory housing when he's dating Liz, in the Major Academy.

[9] Deadly Relations, p. 41. ("We were wondering about you the other day..." She trailed off, probably just realizing that she had said "we." He knew, of course. The Minor Academy was large, but not that large. He had often noticed Julia, Milla, Brett, Azmun, Ekko, and most of the others from the cadre having lunch or playing soccer on the quads.")

[10] Deadly Relations, p. 54 (“I – Al, we were worried about you. … Your professors are worried about you. They don’t think you have any friends. And you didn’t stay in touch with us-” "You didn't stay in touch with me," he corrected. "Al, you never liked us. We never thought you did. We thought you were happy to be away from us."). See also p. 87 ("“You have no friends. You run, you practice martial arts, and you drill unsupervised in your ‘spare’ time. All solitary activities. And this is how you’ve lived, as far as I can tell, for your entire short life.” "I don't really get along with others very well, sir." "No, you don't. That's exactly the problem.")

[11] Deadly Relations, p. 47-54

[12] Deadly Relations, p. 46-47

[13] Inference. See Deadly Relations, p. 2, 11, 17-20, 32-33 (“Brett was only sucking up to him because he did want the cadre to win [the intracadre tournament]. That was Brett, always thinking about his position as leader. Not that anyone had ever elected him, or anything. They just accepted it, which was all wrong. Brett was neither the smartest nor psionically the strongest. Why should he be the one everyone paid attention to? But that was the way it was, wasn’t it? For now, anyway. When they got to the academy, where positions were officially awarded by merit and ability, he would come into his own.”)

[14] Deadly Relations, p. 47 (Brett is “two heads” taller than Al).

[15] Id. (“with the sort of ruggedly handsome face one saw on Psi Corps recruitment posters”)

[16] Deadly Relations, p. 32-33

[17] The social relationships between children raised in cohesive group structures have been studied in the context of kibbutzim. See Shor, Eran and Dalit Simchai. 2009. “Incest Avoidance, the Incest Taboo, and Social Cohesion: Revisiting Westermarck and the Case of the Israeli Kibbutzim.” American Journal of Sociology 114:1803-42

[18] Id.

[19] Id.

[20] Deadly Relations, p. 7 (“Ms. Chastain said that was because some teeps didn’t join cadres until they were older. They were late bloomers and had to stay in the latents’ dorm. The other kids called the latents’ dorm the “Basement,” and nobody ever went there unless they had to. Al couldn't imagine not having any psi. How could you have a real cadre without psi? The kids from the Basement were good at playing normals in the games, but everyone made fun of them. Mostly they kept to themselves until they got their psi and could join a real cadre. Some got really old before that happened.”)

[21] Shor, Eran and Dalit Simchai. 2009. “Incest Avoidance, the Incest Taboo, and Social Cohesion: Revisiting Westermarck and the Case of the Israeli Kibbutzim.” American Journal of Sociology 114:1803-42

[22] Id.

[23] Deadly Relations, p. 2-11 (for example, “Cops and Blips”)

[24] Deadly Relations, p. 9-10 (betraying Brett in the game of Cops and Blips, so he could “win”)

[25] Deadly Relations, p. 8 (“You’re always playing alone, always have, even when we were little.”)

[26] Deadly Relations, p. 43 ("Anyway, it's good to see a youngster taking such an active interest. You're a good example. Still-" [Van Ark] widened his hands expressively "-you're in here every day, rain or shine! Don't you ever just take a day off? Fly a kite, take a girl on a picnic? When you get to be my age, you'll regret it.") See also p. 87 (“You have no friends. You run, you practice martial arts, and you drill unsupervised in your ‘spare’ time. All solitary activities. And this is how you’ve lived, as far as I can tell, for your entire short life.”)

[27] Deadly Relations, p. 42-45

[28] Deadly Relations, p. 37 ("He had asked about his own [parents], once, and was told they had been killed when rogues bombed Teeptown.")

[29] Id.

[30] Inference. See Deadly Relations, p. 33, 41 (“I heard that you won the Karges Award last year.” “Yes, I guess I did.” “I’m not really surprised. You were always the best in the cadre.”), Deadly Relations, p. 35-36 (“All telepaths are special, but you are the most special. The powers of most children do not bloom until they are eleven, twelve, older. Most of you manifested almost as you were born. Only five percent manifest before puberty. You are all rare.” See also Legacies (puberty can trigger the development of psi))

[31] Inference.

[32] Deadly Relations, p. 42, 46-47

[33] Deadly Relations, p. 54 ("[B]ut the teachers were worried, and-" "-and they asked you to do something with me. You bumped into me on purpose, didn't you?" She nodded.), p. 88 (Bey told them to invite Al along).

[34] Deadly Relations, p. 94-95

[35] Inference. Id. (“He had once been an executive officer in MetaPol – maybe the chief – but had retired from the position after only two years, to become station chief of Geneva. He was an instructor at the Major Academy, teaching advanced criminology.”) There is no indication given of why he left such a high position so quickly, although the dates are consistent with the timing of the Dexter raid.

[36] Id.

[37] Deadly Relations, p. 41, 47, 52

[38] Inference.

[39] Deadly Relations, p. 42

[40] Deadly Relations, p. 5, 10-11, 137, 185, Final Reckoning, p. 246-247 (“the statue of William Karges, which he and his friends had called the ‘Grabber’”).

[41] Deadly Relations, p. 25. See also p. 215, where Lyta, who was also raised in Cadre Prime, calls the monitors "Grins."

Chapter Text

            The morning of the hike, Milla put on “civilian” hiking clothes, purchased on a prior excursion off campus, and met the others under the statue of the Grabber. She still wore her gloves – to do otherwise would be both illegal and indecent – but this way, she and the others wouldn’t be too conspicuous around normals. Their school uniforms would be far too obvious, especially at a distance. Up close, it didn’t matter, because normals would know they were telepaths, anyway.

            Al showed up in standard issue – brown outdoor pants, gold shirt, and light Academy jacket. Milla pursed her lips. Hadn’t Julia told him what to wear?

            “Al! It’s good to see you,” said Brett, smiling brightly. “I’m glad you could make it.” Al smiled thinly, and they shook hands.

            “I haven’t been hiking in a while,” Al said. “It sounded like fun.”

            “Did Julia tell you where we’re going? Up near Mont Blanc. Ever been there?” He paused. “You did manage to get a pass, right?”

            “Yes – to the pass. Not to Mont Blanc.”

            “We aren't actually going on Mont Blanc – but pretty near. You’ll like the hike. The place where we camp has a great view, and we might be able to catch a few fish.”

            Milla wondered if Al actually owned any clothes that weren’t standard issue. If he didn’t, that would be so Al, she mused.

            “We’ll take the train up to Chamonix, and hike from there,” Brett was explaining. “When we come down, we can get another train back at St. Gervais.”

            “Sounds good.”

            “And, um – did you bring anything else to wear?”

            Al glanced briefly down at his clothes. “Sure, I have a change in my backpack.”

            “No, I mean – you know, not issue?”

            “Why shouldn’t I wear issue?”

            “In case we run into normals,” Milla said, very simply.

            Al shrugged. “What if we do? I’m not ashamed of the Corps.”

            Milla rolled her eyes.

            “It’s not that,” Brett said. “It’s just better – I mean, you can never tell what normals will do.”

            “Hey,” Al said, “we’re Cadre Prime. Let them do their worst.”

            The other kids looked at each other awkwardly. Milla wondered if Al had ever left Teeptown since the supervised field trips and picnics that the cadre had taken as children. She was beginning to doubt it.

            Most kids would have killed for a chance to leave Teeptown unsupervised. Al had been given the privilege, but didn’t seem to want it. Didn’t he want to experience the world outside the walls?

            Brett’s eyes widened. “Well, yeah! Darn right!” he replied sarcastically. “I forgot, we’ve got the winner of the Karges Award with us. With you, we can handle anything.”

            “Come on, Al,” said Julia. “You sit by me on the train.”

            Milla sat next to Ekko. She just didn’t know what to make of Al. None of them did. Though normals usually weren’t violent, they were certainly unpredictable. Some were polite, while others made rude or even hostile comments. Didn’t Al know that? They weren’t wearing civilian clothes because they were “ashamed” to be in the Corps. They were just trying to stay safe.

            The Sunday morning train out of Teeptown was mostly empty. Though many telepaths lived in town and worked in the city, they were apparently sleeping in on Sunday, or out shopping at Teeptown’s stores. The train rumbled out of the station and through the town’s walls, past the concertina wire and the guards, and out in the wider world. Milla looked out the window intently, a quiet excitement building in her belly.

            Two days outside the walls. Two days of freedom.

            Life at school was, in so many ways, “compressed” – everyone was always in everyone’s hair, so to speak. In some ways this was good, as in Dr. Bey’s looking out for Al and suggesting he go hiking with his old cadre, but in other ways, it was stifling. Teachers kept very close tabs on all the students, and there was little space for adolescent self-expression or experimentation. Students in the Minor Academy – thirteen to fifteen – weren’t allowed to have boyfriends or girlfriends yet, at least not officially, and any students who sexually experimented with each other would be immediately found out. Milla fantasized about older boys – Brett aside, the boys in her own cadre were too immature, and Azmun was just plain unattractive – but she could never actually touch them. Even if she had the hots for “acceptable” boys – older Cadre Primers, in the Major Academy – the teachers would never allow any relationships to develop yet. It wasn’t that they had been taught that sex was bad – they were simply told that they weren’t old enough for such things yet, and that was the final word. The Corps was Mother and Father, and its word was always final.

            She watched the landscape fly by outside the train. Beyond the walls of Teeptown, she could breathe freely. The other telepaths in the carriage didn’t know her, and out in the woods, the group would be alone – truly alone, away from normals and telepaths alike. The sensation made her dizzy with excitement.

            The beginning of the hike was pleasant enough. While the rest of the group walked together, Al raced ahead, up slopes, and stood waiting for the others to catch up.

            Show off, thought Brett.

            Hush up, he’s here with us, OK?

            Milla wasn’t sure if he was trying to impress them with his fast running or intense athletic training, or if he was just doing his usual thing and separating himself from the group at any chance he got. Either way, it didn’t bother her. She was happy to be outside Teeptown. Maybe Al was happy to be away, too, and this was just his… strange way of showing it.

            They hiked past fields of wildflowers, sunlit meadows, and green pastures. The path meandered through the forest, the sunlight filtering down through the canopy casting moving, mottled patterns of shadow and light underfoot.

            As the day wore on, Al spent more and more time hiking with the others, and Milla was pleased. Dr. Bey had been right to suggest they invite him along, she decided. He was unusual, unconventional even, but he was still one of their cadre. The group made light conversation, almost like the old days. It felt good to be back together.

            They stopped for a moment’s rest against an old stone wall, taking in the sun and the perfect weather, silent. Milla heard voices coming up the path.

            Normals. Normals were coming.

            Five young men appeared. Two were tall, almost as tall as Brett but not quite, and looked like brothers. Two were of medium build, a redhead and a blond, and one was short and thickly built. He had a “unibrow.”

            The young men passed the group, chatting quietly in French, nodding as they passed. The “unibrow-boy” passed his eyes over the group, looking over the girls – Milla, Julia and Ekko – like they were a choice cut of meat. Then his gaze fixed on Al, and he stopped walking.

            “Q’est-ce que c’est que ça?” he asked, rather abruptly. He was pointing at Al’s academy clothing.

            The telepaths stood silently, unsure what to say.

            “Eh?” The boy jabbed a finger at them, as if spearing something. “What’s the matter, you? Can’t read my mind in French?”

            His comment made no sense – the cadre had been raised bilingually, and they were all equally fluent in both French and English. They’d understood him perfectly – they just didn’t know what to say.

            The boy’s friends had turned now. “Viens, Antoine,” one of the lanky ones said.

            “No, no,” Antoine snapped, waving them back. “For so long I have wanted to meet one of these little prodigies. Are all of you mindscrewers, or do you just carry this one as a pet?” he asked Brett and the others.

            Milla stood frozen to the spot, unsure how to reply. What was going on? What did he want, anyway? Antoine had recognized Al’s clothing, but didn't he didn’t see that the rest of them were also wearing gloves? He didn’t know that all adults wore gloves?

            She looked over at Brett, and saw that Julia and the others were looking at him, too – all except Al, who tightened his lips and looked straight at the normal boy, unblinking.

            Brett was their leader. He would say something.

            Brett answered him in French. “Look, fellows, we’re just on a hike. We don’t want any trouble.”

            “Trouble? Are you saying we’re trouble?”

            “No. I didn’t say that.”

            “Just go on your way,” Al advised in English, and there was an edge to his voice, a darkness that Milla had never heard before.

            “Oh, is that an order, Captain Mindscrewer?”

            “It’s a suggestion,” Al said.

            Time seemed to slow down – seconds felt like minutes – and Milla’s heart pounded in her chest.

            This is bad, this is bad…

            She saw Al flex his knees, taking a defensive stance, like they’d been taught to do in their martial arts classes. He was bracing for a fight.

            “Oh, a suggestion!” snapped the normal. “Well, I have a couple of those myself. I suggest that you stay in your kennels back in Geneva, and not wander up here where decent folk might have to see you.”

            “It’s a public park!” shouted Ekko. “We have a right to be here!”

            Antoine looked from Ekko to Al. “I suggest you stay out of my damned mind.”

            Milla, like all telepaths, had been taught to always be deferential, especially to normals who felt threatened by the presence of telepaths. Somehow, when actually confronted with hostile normals, she didn’t know what to say at all. Her mouth had gone dry, and her voice had left her. She just wanted to apologize and run away, but she couldn’t run alone. She had to stand with her cadre. So she didn’t move.

            Why didn’t Brett do something?

            “Psi Corps regulations forbid unauthorized scans,” Al pointed out.

            Good, he’s quoting the regs. No one knows the regs better than Al…

            Al paused a beat. “Besides, I wouldn't read your mind any more than I would step in dogshit on purpose.”

            Oh no.

            That was very much not what they’d been taught in school to say.

            Antoine grinned. “Aw, how cute. Psi-Ko made a joke.” He pronounced the “p”.

            Julia grinned deferentially, trying to deescalate the situation. “Come on, guys, let’s go-”

            Antoine suddenly fixed his gaze on her. “Oh look, boys, the little pslut can talk. What else can you do, pslut?”

            Julia froze.

            Al gave Antoine a curious look, and punched him on the nose.

            Milla’s fear broke over into panic. Antoine hit back like a small cyclone. Al raised his forearms over his face, defensively, but Antoine head-butted him and slammed him backwards into a tree. Then Antoine was on top of Al, pounding down on him with all his might and pinning him to the ground, while Al curled up into a ball, blooping like a child in his panic.

            Brett – who stood two heads taller than the other boy – jumped into action, grabbing Antoine and physically lifting him off of Al. “Leave,” he growled.

            “Come on, Antoine,” one of the other young men said, one of the tall ones. “He ain’t worth it. He’ll get you arrested, and then what?”

            Al stood shakily to his feet as the Antoine regarded Brett. He looked from Al to Brett and back again, then dusted off his shirt, and grimaced a terrible, expression like a twisted mockery of a smile. “Bet you don’t think you’re so hot now do you, mindfucker? If it hadn’t been for your friend, I’d have pounded you senseless, eh?”

            Al said nothing, and Brett continued to glare down at Antoine. Finally, he took the hint, and with a final parting sneer, he marched off, laughing darkly with his friends until the sound faded in the distance. The telepaths breathed a collective sigh of relief.

            They hiked on, trying not to think about what had just happened, but it was all anyone could think about. Al, they could feel, burned with humiliation. He hadn’t suffered any serious injuries, though he’d probably be bruised in the morning. His pride was injured most of all.

            It occurred to Milla that even though Al had been the only one physically hit, they all felt attacked. He was cadre. As the maxim went from their cadre days, what hurts one, hurts all. Yes, he was a little strange sometimes, and yes, he separated himself from the group, but he was cadre, and that meant something, didn’t it? Shouldn’t it?

            And Antoine had started trouble with them all simply because they were telepaths. Al had been the only one hit, but the attack represented more. Antoine had hated Al, and the others, simply for what they were.

            What hurts one hurts all.

Chapter Text

            “Don’t let it get to you, Al,” Julia soothed, as their campfire crackled. Al still sulked, silent. “I felt his mind,” Julia went on. “He was like an animal.”

            “Yes,” Al replied, “he was. A dumb animal. One I should have beaten.”

            “Hey,” Brett interjected, “bullfighters have to be trained to fight bulls. We train in the gym, against other teeps. We haven’t had much practice against normals.”

            “You beat him.”

            “I blindsided him. And I wasn’t trying to beat him, just get him off of you. Come on, cheer up. You’ll know better next time.”

            The whole situation seemed unreal to Milla. They were alone in the woods, with no teachers around – no one at all. They were outside Teeptown, the walls, the wire. Outside the zone of safety, of the familiar, the known. But that didn’t only mean they were in danger of being attacked – it also meant that she could speak her mind, even say things she never could dream of saying in school.

            With no more effort than a blink, she knew, she could have knocked Antoine unconscious. Any of them could have. And Al, Brett – the P12s, the future Psi Cops – could have done oh so much worse. They could have twisted his mind any way they wanted. Given him a seizure. Ripped his mind apart, filled him with nightmares. Killed him on the spot…

            But they’d all just stood there. They’d just stood there. They’d “controlled their powers”… and just stood there.

            Milla couldn’t get over that. She knew normals were unpredictable. She knew they were dangerous. She knew telepaths were attacked – even killed – on the streets of the Earth Alliance. She knew all these things intellectually, but she’d never lived it before, never felt afraid for her own safety and the safety of her friends.

            Everything seemed so clear on the pages of the handbook: what do say, what to do. Telepaths had to learn to control their powers around normals, because that kept everyone safe. But now that she’d lived through a real attack, something in her had changed.

            The attack never should have happened at all. They’d stood there and let it happen.

            Why?

            “I could have mindblasted him in a second,” Milla grumbled. “We could have taken them all. What’s the point of having superior brains if we can’t use them?”

            Al looked up at her, shocked. “Because that would be selfish. We’re supposed to protect and serve, not use our powers to satisfy our own needs.”

            “You really believe that?”

            “Yes,” he replied, startled not just by her unorthodox ideas, but that she’d dared to voice them.

            “We’re supposed to protect and serve guys like Antoine?” asked Milla. “Guys who want to hurt us? Give me a break.”

            “Look it up,” Al said, defensively. “It’s in the handbook. ‘Psi Cops may use reasonable physical force in self-defense, but may never use their telepathic powers to hurt a normal.’ That would betray the Corps.”

            “Normals wrote the handbook, Al,” said Ekko. “Everyone knows that but you.”

            “The Corps wrote the handbook. The rules are good.”

            I just screwed up, Al was thinking. I could have taken him.

            Milla didn’t care whether Al could have beaten Antoine in a fistfight if he’d only been prepared, and had his wits about him. The fight should have been over before it started. They were telepaths. They could have ‘cast an illusion and left. They could have taken Antoine down with a thought. If the other normals had got involved, they could have taken them down, too.

            The realization burned hot in her stomach.

            She knew what she was thinking was wrong.

            But why was it wrong?

            She thought of Annie. Annie had grown up among normals. Did she know something Milla and the others didn’t?

            “Anyway, thank you,” Al said out loud, to Brett. It was reluctant, but genuine.

            “We have to hang together,” Brett replied. “Cadre Prime.”

            “I’m going for a walk,” Al said, uncomfortable. “I’ll be back soon.” And he disappeared off into the darkness.

            “Well, there he goes again,” said Ekko. “So much for hanging together.”

            Julia offered to go after him, but Brett put up a hand. “No. I can feel him, even through his shields… he’s all right. He just wants to be alone. Needs to be alone.”

            Milla shook her head and stared at the fire. “What if Antoine had been armed?” she asked. “We would have just stood there while he killed Al. What if he’d pulled out a gun? A knife? What if he’d-”

            “Milla-”

            “No, listen to me. We just stood there.”

            “Antoine wasn’t armed.”

            “And how were we to know that? We’re not allowed to scan him to find out. And by the time he pulls a weapon, it’s too late. Maybe that’s how we die on the streets. Today it’s Al, but tomorrow it’s you, or me, or Julia, or Ekko, or Azmun, or-”

            “Milla,” said Azmun, “the rules keep us safe. Brett took care of it. Al’s just embarrassed, that’s all.”

            But Milla could think of nothing else. Julia got up to try to find Al, to bring the group back together, to “make peace.” Brett followed her, but everyone knew it wasn’t finding Al that he had on his mind.

            Outside the walls, mused Milla. Everyone knew that Brett liked Julia, but Milla never thought he’d make a go of it.

            Well, good luck to them, Milla thought, darkly, somewhat jealous. As long as they didn’t do anything that would split the cohesiveness of the cadre…

            She poked at the fire with a long stick. The cadre. The cadre.

            It had always been them against the world. And when the world had attacked, they’d all just stood there like helpless puppies, while some neighborhood bully kicked them for fun, and laughed.

            Julia and Brett came back after an hour or so, all aglow from their make-out session or whatever they’d been doing in the woods. Al remained in the woods, alone. The other former cadremates sat around the fire telling stories from their childhood, singing songs, and laughing.

            Outside the walls.

            They took off their gloves, and held hands in a circle, their faces framed in the firelight. Their minds came together, an interwoven fabric, a tapestry that told the story of their lives. Hand in hand, they were a single organism, a creature of trust, power, and love. They breathed together, moved together, thought and felt together, like the mental chants or “mants” they’d done as children, but infinitely more complex now they were grown. The attack of that afternoon faded completely from Milla’s mind. They – both Cadre Prime, and all telepaths – had something the normals never could have. They were special – connected in ways that the others could never understand.

            Together, they were joy, they were love. And all the hate in the world couldn’t put a dent into that one moment of perfect beauty.