

The Chronicles of Han Storm

Creata Adventure

Book 1 Preserving Creata

#  Preserving Creata, Part 1 - Learning Curve

www.chroniclesofhan.com

Copyright © H Gibson 2009-2018

Preserving Creata Part 1 Printed ISBN: 978-1-928471-00-4

Preserving Creata Part 1 Electronic ISBN: 978-1-928471-01-1

This is the 2011 unabridged vibrational version

Smashwords Edition 21-07-2018

Preserving Creata, Part 1 - Learning Curve

Note about this book:

Legal Responsibility:

For Obelix

Foreword: Living a Multi-dimensional Life

Part 1 - Learning Curve

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

About H Gibson

# 

#  Note about this book:

Back in 2008 when I sat down in front of the laptop for physiotherapy to 3rd degree burn scarring to both my hands, I had no idea where to start. "Where shall we start?" I tentatively wrote and a floodgate opened. Many books have seen the light since then, each one better written than the previous. Every time I want to come back to 'fix' this book, readers encourage me to 'just leave it' and rather write the next book. Please also note that the book has been translated into English and is my past life recollection. More information available on my website.

Other books currently published in the Chronicles of Han Series

Creata Adventure:

Preserving Creata (Part 1-7)

Reclaiming of Duback (Part 8)

Taming Encha (Part 9-10)

Leilaka Adventure:

Leilaka #1

Saving Leilaka #2

#  Legal Responsibility:

Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. Please take a moment to familiarise yourself with the legal copyright laws protecting the Author's work.

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H Gibson asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work. This right has been asserted by the author in accordance with the copyright, designs and patents Act. All rights reserved. No part of this publication, including the Chronicles of Han Emblem, may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording or otherwise, without prior written permission of the copyright owner. This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hire out or otherwise circulated without the copyright owner's prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

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www.chroniclesofhan.com

# For Obelix

My eternal love

Han

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

#  Foreword: Living a Multi-dimensional Life

Where shall we start? Out of the many lives I've lived in the physical realm, which life memory should I recall? I guess the best one should be the latest adventures that started on a Planet called Creata.

Creata can be found in a dimension parallel to what you call Earth, and is similar to Earth.

I am Han, and this is my life-memory . . .

After the devastating Wars of the Universes, and the closing of the Transport and Planetary Portals, a Bedtime story was told to children about a person that would be born that would change the way we knew life on Creata.

In the beginning, some people imagined that the story was created to give parents and their children hope at better things, or maybe they wished for the kind of life that their ancestors had enjoyed.

The story led that, when the time was right, and the peoples were re-opened with the knowledge of the Higher Worlds, The One would return to open the Portals, and Creata, Place of Wealth, would become prosperous once more.

As the years passed and generation after generation related this story to their children and their children's children, it passed into Legend.

Some Clans built their new lives around this Legend.

Others moved to believe it still a bedtime story . . .

Creata reverted back to a Planetary Governing Body. The residing Clans were left to decide for themselves where they wanted to take their peoples. Some were capitalists and opted to stay in the Cities and use the technology still available after the Wars.

Some Clans decided it best for their people to revert back to basics, and some gave their people the option of both worlds.

Yet, all had to pay allegiance to the Planetary Government.

#  Part 1 \- Learning Curve

##  Chapter One

"So, He-Who-Knows-In-Advance, what do you say to a wager on our first day at work."

That was Jack. He was my so-called friend. He actually just looked out for himself, like most people did these days.

We were preparing for the graduation parade of the New Haven Security Forces Academy. Only five candidates succeeded in finishing this gruelling three month course.

"Let Han be, you always lose to him anyway!" Stacey stood up for me. She had stepped out of the showers, water still glistening on her copper skin, a scant towel wrapped around herself.

There was almost no shyness on Creata and ablution facilities were shared. She had her locker two down from mine.

Jack was adjusting the tie of his new NHSF parade uniform.

After today we will be Student Officers for another three months before receiving full officer status and the pay that goes with it.

Not that I needed money. I had a lucrative business in the gambling industry. I thought that I might actually make a difference in innocent New Haven lives by joining the Security Forces.

I struggled into my restrictive uniform.

Sighing, I thought to myself that I would have to get used to this, or move up to detective ASAP.

"So, what odds will we set? Two to one? Three to one? Come on!" Jack nagged. "I really want you to get something wrong for a change and there is no way you will be able to get this right."

Jack always nagged. He was annoying, and it was working.

"Slick!" I called out to a sandy mop of hair trying to get the buttons of the uniform done.

"Yeah" Slick responded, looking up through fogged over spectacles. It was not going to help wiping them yet.

"Let's make it at least five to one, as we are five, what do you say?" he said, taking out a small notepad and pen. He acted as bookie and we all adhered to it. Not betting himself, he always received a percentage of my winnings.

Ryan came over from his locker. He was the professional one. His locker was already cleaned out and his travel bag ready to go. "I'll accept five to one. There is no way Han can possibly get this one right. One of us will be able to get our money back."

Jack stood in front of me, as if it would help activate my pre-sight.

"Okay, so what do you see, what will my Sergeant in Charge look like?" he demanded from me.

It took a few seconds before I could answer. "Large man, mid forties, salt-and-pepper. Stacey. Black man, open face, laughs a lot. Ryan. Sorry to say, but it looks as if you're in for it. Solid, old timer with beard. Very particular and, wait . . . perfectionist! Slick. Plains person, yellow skin, strange eyes, can't get anything more. So, is the bet on?"

"No!" Jack was adamant.

We all stared at him. "You said five to one. You only gave us four. We need your own as well" he insisted.

O-kay. Now, it was one thing telling other people's futures. It was a totally different ball-game telling my own.

I wanted this bet. It was easy money and I've never been wrong before. Should I chance on myself?

Yes, I really wanted this.

Turning from the expectant group, I fiddled with my own tie, watching my reflection in the mirror on the inside of the locker door.

Looking into my violet-black eyes, I allowed myself to get lost in them, then spoke to the students as if from afar.

"Old guy, balding, near retirement, genuine smile."

I kept fiddling with a perfectly good tie. More was coming through. This was one of those strange, real-seeming daydreams I sometimes had.

He was called Tucker. He had the utmost respect for me. He knew I was different. I felt love and compassion from him, as if he had known me all my life, as if he was my dad. As if he knew we were meant to be partners.

Wanting to pursue this dream/vision, I took a step towards the mirror, bumping my nose. Everyone burst out laughing.

"All bets confirmed?" Slick wanted to conclude business, adjusting his glasses. He was so far-sighted, he needed those to see up close. He had wonderful natural vision on the shooting range, never missing a bull's-eye.

"Yes", "Uh", "Yip", "Definitely" came the replies while I rubbed my sore nose.

"You'll all see who will be laughing come First Day" I remarked sourly at them.

"Now, do not get all hot-headed about good banter" Slick told me. "You'll have your money soon. That should be revenge enough."

Ryan departed with his bag and the rest of us rushed to clear our lockers. Then we followed him outside, leaving Stacey to finish up in peace.

I never understood why she was always behind with everything. It was a miracle that she made the grades required.

Luckily we did not have long to wait. Jack was just starting to pick his teeth when she joined us. We left our bags in the passage and headed over to our Commanding Officer.

With only the five of us, there was not going to be an official parade, merely a small ceremony of handing over our badges and our graduation papers.

We lined up in Sergeant Wilke's office and stood to attention.

It was one of Mayor Houghton's duties to welcome new officers to his taskforce. The Universe knew he needed them.

At the rate crime was climbing in the cities, Security Forces work was popular and well-paid employment. It simply took some doing in finishing the courses and staying alive on the job.

"I'm so glad you young people decided to serve New Haven. Congratulations to all of you" the mayor said while handing each person a badge and a rolled up certificate. His handshake was clammy and it felt like touching a dead fish.

He was perspiring by the time he had finished. Wheezing, he turned his bulk to Sergeant Wilke. "I hope these ones last a little longer than the last batch."

To us, he smiled and said "Good luck all of you," before gathering his two private security officers and went on his merry way.

Sergeant Wilke glared at us. "Right, now that you are officially on the payroll, let me remind you about arrangements for First Day. At the New Haven Precinct. 07h00. Captain Truman's office. Please make me proud."

"You know we will Sergeant" Ryan answered for all of us. "We always give our best."

Sergeant Wilke looked me straight in the eye. "I know, some more than others."

I kept his gaze. He knew I had much more to give. He broke the contact. Few people could face up to my stare for long.

We trooped out of his office, glad that the three months of physical hard work and extraordinary mental input was finally finished.

Jack noticed that he had Stacey's badge. We swapped out badges and certificates until everyone had their own.

"The Mayor did not even take the time to make sure he got that right!" Jack complained.

"He probably does not think it necessary to make friends with the new crowd that may be lost soon" Stacey commented.

"Not to worry" I jokingly put in. "No-one is going to die. You can take my word for it."

They all laughed with me as we grabbed our bags and made our way down the corridor to the main doors. Our vehicles were parked outside. We were finally going home to start our new lives.

I was glad to be able to drive my battered, dark-green, four-door Commoner again. There was nothing wrong with its systems and the vehicle was an efficient drive. I also found that the state it was in made it safe from most criminals and gained me the appearance of a not too successful gambler. I preferred it that way. It made my life much easier.

Heading out of the campus gates, we all turned west, back to New Haven. Stacey passed me by on her two-wheeler, shouting something at me. I could not hear, but received the distinct image of a tortoise.

Sometimes I picked up on people's thoughts spontaneously. I was sure I could do it consciously, if I concentrated.

Jack drove past in his yellow, roofless Rogue. Flashing a smile at me, his black face created the illusion of white teeth.

I smiled back. They all had families to hurry to. An empty apartment awaited me.

It was an enjoyable experience to drive in the countryside. Not that there was much undisturbed countryside left between the sea and the mountains with New Haven stuck in between, getting more crowded each year with more people moving in from other cities.

Everyone was looking for sustainable jobs. New Haven's natural, deep harbour and fishing industry provided exactly that.

At least it was a comfortable drive.

All too soon I reached the intersection and joined the EW1 (East-West) highway that came in from the Eastern Coastal Cities. The EW1 lay below the Airport on the sea side.

The WE2 (allowing for traffic flow in the opposite direction from the EW1) was above the Airport on the mountain side.

Hill Street ran South-North from the pier to the top of the mountain, crossing underneath the highways, but also serving as the main access-roads to them. The New Haven Airport's entrance effectively divided Hill into Upper and Lower Hill.

The same went for Mountain Drive that ran on the West side of the Airport. Mountain Drive wound through the slums into the foothills and eventually found its way to the inland side of the mountains.

These important main routes were the arteries that kept the heart of New Haven going.

Fisheries from around Creata had their canneries and fresh stock packing plants here. Our cold coastal waters teemed with life and Creata was glad for its bounty. The Airport was the fastest way to get the fresh fish to markets around the globe.

Leaving the EW1 highway at the Snout off-ramp, took me straight past the business district into the residential area of Market Square.

Market Square used to be the original business sector, but as newer, more modern places were built, the old buildings were revamped for residential service.

I stopped two blocks from my building at Luke's Grocer. Luke's was the only decent place in the area for supplies.

The schools were out and I had to fight my way through the throngs of children, making sure my wallet was secure. You never knew with these little thieves in the vicinity.

I should know. I was once one of them.

Upon reaching my home at the Heights Building, I parked my vehicle in the basement. The light at the stairwell was broken and, as usual, the lift did not work. I had to climb the basement stairs and the three flights to the top.

The janitor was not to be blamed. He really tried his best. It was an old building in a rough neighbourhood.

Maybe the presence of an officer would make it a bit safer for the residents.

Home.

Unlocking the door to 308, I went inside, slamming the door closed with my foot. It had an automatic locking mechanism that could only be unlocked by the key or manually from the inside.

It was so wonderful that I was going to have the whole weekend to myself!

Dumping my travel bag in the first room to my left, I took my supplies straight past the extra ablution facility that separated my bedroom from the guest room, into the open plan kitchen. It was not a big place, but it served my needs.

It was early afternoon and I was glad for an extra half-day off before starting work. The tests we had to take at the academy really made my head swim with all the legal stuff and response codes.

I found it boring and dreadfully tiring to remember all of it. I knew I would remember everything if I had to, it was simply too much to ask to write the answers.

After preparing a light lunch of sandwiches and spreads for myself, I settled on the small patio to watch life go by.

The patio offered a great view of the airport. I've never flown in an aircraft and wondered what the difference would be in flying in physical form, but had a notion that I would not have to wait too long before finding out.

I suddenly wondered where this notion came from. It was similar to the pre-sight experiences I had. I merely knew things before they happened.

Since I can remember, I've always been this way. Sometimes I would just know things. At other times, I would actually see things happening in the future.

It was confusing, and sometimes scary.

I knew I could help people with this gift and had this feeling since . . . when? . . . forever.

It really scared me and I squashed it down, trying desperately to ignore this feeling of pending destiny.

My efforts were not successful and my communication device, thankfully, intruded on my thoughts.

It was Jack.

"Hi. The guys are going to celebrate at The Pikes. I'll pick you up at 17h00 for an early dinner and then we'll join them. It's on me. See you later."

He did not give me time to respond, knowing I would chicken out if I had the chance. I was not fond of public places, except when I needed funds of course. The noise gave me headaches. Tonight I would definitely not mind.

There were a few hours to kill so I looked around my place. The old windows did not seal and it was a constant battle to keep the place clean. It was covered in soot from the black organic fuels used by the factories.

I wished the Government would ban it. It polluted the whole area, and with the winds blowing from the sea the whole time, the city was constantly sweeping up soot.

Preferring my privacy, I had to do everything myself. It was a major effort to get down to housekeeping, but I placed all my concentration on my tasks, effectively blocking out any invading thoughts that wanted to surface.

I was showered and waiting in front of my building by the time Jack arrived.

"Could you not find yourself another place to stay?" Jack complained. "This is so out of the way, and primitive. Even your building seems ready to crumble down on us any minute."

"I have been here since childhood. This is my home. Besides, now that the neighbourhood has their own Force Person, things should be safer around here from now on."

"Yes, until you become a target with your uniform on."

"I'm planning to get dressed at the precinct, like all of you."

He laughed at me. "Wise."

Jack took me to a Plains People diner near The Pikes. These yellow hued people called themselves 'Orientals'. Traditionally named, The Orient diner was situated opposite the Airport in the Shopping district.

Jack loved their food, and, as he was paying, I helped myself to generous portions.

The academy food was not great and this was heaven after being so long without decent food. We stuffed ourselves.

Finally we sat back and relaxed. Jack ordered some more rice-wine for himself. I almost never took alcohol. I was not fond of the taste.

Jack looked at me for so long, I became uncomfortable under his steady gaze.

Finally he spoke up. "You know, you are going to have to be careful with your pre-sight on the Force. Someone will surely notice your psychic ability and then you'll be in for it."

"I know. I have my ways of hiding it quite successfully. And I've decided that First Day's bet will be my last. I'll be earning honest money now and would not need to gamble any longer."

"Now, that would be a pity" he answered jokingly.

He turned serious. "I know you think I have only my own interests at heart, but I'm serious right now. You have the makings of a great Force Person. All of us can see it. We would hate seeing you going to the Government. Okay? So please be careful. And no more party tricks either."

I did not like his tone of voice, but I knew he was sincere.

He paid the waitress and we walked the block to The Pikes to meet our team. No vehicles were allowed in this avenue. It was reserved for pedestrians only.

This was one of the richer shopping areas. I found most of the people shopping here shallow and materialistic, looking down on anyone not 'dressed' to their standards.

But the restaurants were great, the gaming houses were plenty, and proprietors did not care where their money came from, as long as you paid cash upfront.

We met up with the rest of the team and were shown to a private booth where it took some doing to fit all five of us in around the same table.

I ordered my usual mixed fruit juice and the others took bottles of strong black ale.

Shifting myself slightly to the background, I listened to all their tales and wishes of what they wanted to become in their respective areas.

Stacey wanted to transfer to Forensics as soon as her three months as Student Officer was completed.

Slick was working to get into special ops, preferably as a sniper.

Ryan wanted to become the next New Haven Captain, and Jack just wanted to be an officer of Law. His whole family was on the Force and he was following in everyone's footsteps.

I thought about what I wanted for myself. Until now I had allowed myself to go with the flow of things, making the best of what was offered to me, trying to live my life to the fullest.

This niggling feeling of Destiny threatened to overwhelm me again. It felt as if I really had no control over my life. I did not even know what I really wanted from it!

I was suddenly angry at myself for being so different from others. I did not want these.... abilities, I told myself.

Still, I knew in my heart that I loved being different, able to know and perceive things others could not.

Out of spite, I ordered a glass of ale for myself and downed it in one gulp.

BIG mistake.

It was revolting.

Everyone cheered at the expression on my face and encouraged me to have another.

I declined and they left it at that.

They were on childhood stories now, telling each other about happy times and loving parents and siblings.

It made me extremely uncomfortable as I had never known my parents, being raised within the Government foster system until I quit it at ten years old.

After that, I had lived mostly on my own. It did not take much to see where some of my issues came from. I would probably be a psychiatrist's nightmare.

Jack was fast getting totally drunk. The others drank responsibly enough, and by the time we took our leave of each other, I was still feeling confident that they would get home safely.

Jack was another story. He could barely stand as I helped him to his vehicle after taking the keys from him. I dropped him in the passenger seat before settling behind the steering wheel.

I was not feeling so good either after that glass of ale. My head was spinning and my vision blurred. I guess it was an adverse reaction to the alcohol.

Carefully driving towards my building, I avoided the Highway, which would have been the fastest route.

We soon left the shopping area and entered the business district. Passing through several intersections, catching all the traffic lights green (which was one of my favourite bets, I never lost), we entered the residential area of Market Square.

I was just letting out a sigh of relief as we were almost home, when a shadow ran out from a yard.

Having no time to respond with my brain being fuzzy from the drink, I drove over whatever it was.

"Did you see what that was" I asked, glancing over at Jack, bringing the vehicle to a stop.

No response came from a passed out Jack.

Walking around the vehicle, I identified the shadow as a cat.

Squatting down next to it, I touched the bleeding body, smearing blood all over my hands.

I suddenly saw, and felt, the cat's sensations; thoughts.

The cat knew it was dying. There was not a lot of pain. It had been sick for a long time, and did not mind returning to the spirit plane.

Its spirit slipped out of its body, looking at me for a full minute before moving on.

Releasing the body, I wiped my hands as clean as I could on my shirt before heading back to Jack's vehicle.

With shaking hands, I managed to steer the vehicle to the basement of my building. I left Jack in the vehicle, taking his wallet and the keys with me. I was not going to carry him to my apartment. He would be safe enough in the basement.

Safely in my own apartment, I scrubbed the blood off my hands and discarded the shirt in the trash container before making some strong coffee.

This was my first direct contact with death, feeling life slipping out of a living entity with the true essence revealed to me. I never fathomed having such a psychic reaction to something's life-essence.

I was feeling shock and excitement at the same time. If this could happen when I touched an animal, what more if I could touch a human?

Shuddering at the thought, I realized that I would share the same experience as the other person. I did not know if I was strong enough for that.

I finished my coffee and retired to bed, finally giving in to the drugging effect of the alcohol.

##  Chapter Two

"Bloody Hell! What did you do to my Rogue?!"

It was Jack screaming me awake.

Now how did he get in?

I could swear I had locked the door. Well, maybe not in my intoxicated state.

"Now just hold on" I cautioned as he lunged into the bedroom. "What are you talking about?"

"There's blood all over the front and the light is broken. Did you kill anyone last night?" he accused.

"It was only a sick cat. I put it out of its misery by accident" I defended myself.

"A cat! You hit a cat with my Rogue! How could you?"

"You were passed out and I had to drive. I'm not used to alcohol either, you should remember that."

Jack calmed down. "Okay, but I do not have insurance. Are you going to pay for repairs?"

"I will go half on it. If you had been drinking responsibly, your vehicle would still be in roadworthy condition."

He took a seat on the chair by the window. Opening the curtain, he stared out into the mid day sunshine. We had slept the morning away.

"I know now why you stay here" he commented, more to himself. "You have a wonderful, clear view of New Haven. I can even see the ships in the harbour. There's my parent's house up on Maine, directly behind the airport. It's also nice and quiet here."

I was up and dressed by the time he stopped staring out of the window.

"I will take your offer" he continued. "I will run the Rogue by a repair shop on the way home and get back to you on a price. That okay?"

"Perfect. Now, did you want some breakfast? I was thinking of having some fat bacon and oozing boiled eggs." I knew the reaction to that would be instantaneous.

Jack's black face turned ashen as he stood up. "No, thank you. I have to be off. The parents want their children home before dark and all that."

I laughed at his discomfort and saw him to my apartment door. "Drive safe."

I made sure the door was locked before starting on breakfast.

It was really fun cooking for myself. The food came out exactly as I wished and I enjoyed a hearty breakfast.

Not planning on going out again, I loafed around reading adventure novels and watching home movies.

I still could not get reception from the local broadcasters. This had started about a month before I went to the academy.

All the equipment had been tested, but there was nothing wrong with it. The repair person said it might be some disturbance in the building. The neighbours were also complaining about this.

First Day came too fast. My best sleeping period was between 05h00 and 07h00. Now I had to be at work by 07h00. It was going to kill me.

Taking the EW1 Highway, I made great time and reached the Mountain Drive off-ramp twenty minutes later. The Precinct was situated near the docks.

We had been advised to park at the back of the building in the allocated parking bays. I found mine easily enough, with Stacey stopping next to me as I exited my Commoner.

"You ready for our first big day?" she asked with a smile on her pretty face.

"Only if my bets pay off" I joked back.

Smiling, we walked to the back doors of the precinct and into the locker area. The other three rookies were already busy putting on uniforms. We quickly found our named lockers and changed clothes.

There was no bantering between us now. It was serious business and we were all feeling apprehensive, not knowing what exactly to expect. I did not want to venture into a pre-sight right now, needing all my wits about me.

We were stared at by the other uniformed officers who were whispering and joking amongst each other.

"Probably taking bets on us" Jack commented.

Jack knew exactly where to go, his whole family already being employed by the NHSF. The Captain's office was situated on the first floor.

We all stopped in front of the Captain's attractive assistant. Smiling at us, she pressed a button on the comm system on her desk and spoke gently into it "They are all here, sir."

Hearing a door opening behind us, we all turned around.

Five sergeants came over to us, each extending a hand to his particular Student, exchanging introductions.

I was immensely relieved when I suddenly realized I'd won my bet!

Slick would collect our winnings this evening.

Jack seemed let down. Ryan gave me a sidelong glance. If looks could kill . . .

Tucker was greeting me and I gave him my full attention.

"Welcome Storm. I'm sure we are going to work well together."

He had a solid handshake.

"I'm sure of it too, sir."

"Please, call me Tucker."

"Thank you, Tucker."

The Captain joined us for a short speech. He was immaculately dressed in a grey, tailored suit. His hawk-like eyes and short-cropped grey hair completed the picture of a no-nonsense person.

"Learn from your Sergeants and you will survive in this city. You're in the hands of some of my best men. Universal speed to all of you."

"Come." Tucker took my elbow and gently steered me to an elevator. We were on our way down before any of the others could join.

"We're going to spend today getting you up to speed with procedures and then we'll take a drive around our turf" he continued.

We exited the elevator opposite the Charge Office and turned left down the passage. There were double barred doors leading to holding cells to the left and interrogation rooms to the right. The officer cubicles were behind the door at the end of the passage.

Tucker took us to a quiet corner. It consisted of a desk with chairs on either side. It was small and felt crowded.

Tucker noticed the look of disgust on my face.

"It's only for paperwork. The sooner it gets done, the sooner we're back on the streets. I usually do it early morning. I arrive at 06h00 and expect the same of you."

Did I have a choice?

I think the interior decorations were done on purpose to encourage an officer to spend as little time as possible here.

Tucker handed me a stack of papers. "Fill these out. It is for Government Taxes and general- and medical insurance. There are also a few disclaimers. Simply sign everything that says signature."

I never thought about paying Taxes. I would no longer be flying under the radar. If my name entered the system, it might come up as a flagged item.

Did I just hand myself over to be picked up by the Government?

I hoped to the Universe that it was not so. It was a bit too late for that.

I mentally closed my eyes and signed everything as required.

The general questionnaire asked a lot of personal questions. Parentage and siblings, schools attended, hobbies; your normal 'I want to find out about you' stuff. My form looked pathetically blank as I handed everything back to Tucker.

He glanced through the forms, raising an eyebrow at the rather bare questionnaire.

"Wait here, I'll go hand this in and then I'll run you through the office procedures."

While waiting for him to return, I sat looking at the things on his desk. It was mostly things you would expect on a desk, including a stack of case-files.

There was also a photograph of him with a woman and a young boy. It must be his family. I reached out and touched the images, then relaxed, and suddenly felt convinced that they were no longer alive.

Hearing Tucker coming back, I quickly brought my hand back to my lap, feeling sorrow for this man. Not knowing where this feeling suddenly came from, I reflected on it while clearing the lump from my throat.

Tucker sat down and went through office procedures with me. I did not pay much conscious attention, knowing I could retrieve the information if I missed something. The other rookies were also going through the drill, so I did not feel alone.

"There you have it. Can you run it by me now?"

I was a bit shocked. I did not expect him to throw me a curveball right away.

Taking a deep breath, I fetched the information from short-term memory and repeated it almost word for word and action for action. I consciously had no idea what I was talking about, but it seemed to impress him immensely.

"Do you have a photographic memory?" he asked as I concluded.

"Not as far as I know" I replied.

I was a bit puzzled as I did not perceive remembering things exactly as photographic memory. It was simply something I always did. I mostly did not comprehend the information I remembered the first time around. Comprehension took approximately 24hours with me.

Tucker did not push the subject and I let my breath out in relief. He was looking at the other Sergeants and their rookies.

We were done. They were still busy, with some having more success than others.

"Right, now that you understand all this, let us move out onto the streets."

I followed Tucker, winking at Stacey and smiling at Ryan's obvious annoyance with me.

We went out the front doors to the long row of parked squad vehicles. Our vehicle was marked clearly with a number 23. Tucker handed me the keys and settled in the passenger seat.

"I shattered a knee some years ago. It makes for uncomfortable driving" he commented on my questioning gaze.

The vehicle was larger than my Commoner and had a lot more engine power. Carefully backing out of the parking, I tested it for performance and handling as much as I could before we entered the city traffic.

"Where to?" I asked Tucker, not having an idea of where our 'turf' was.

"All the way to Market Square. That is were I have been placed recently. A nice, quiet neighbourhood until my retirement in six months."

Was this co-incidence, or destiny that I was to patrol my own neighbourhood?

I did not believe in co-incidence.

My heart missed a beat as Destiny pressed heavy upon my shoulders once more.

Shrugging it off, I drove to the highway, catching all the lights green, as usual.

Tucker turned out not to miss much. "How did you do that?"

"Excuse me?"

"You caught all the lights green."

"Oh. Luck, I guess" I answered.

But for the first time I actually thought about how I managed all the lights to stay green. I was not sure exactly how I achieved it. I told them in my mind to stay green. They simply did.

I shrugged again, noticing that Tucker was observing me closely.

I kept my concentration on negotiating the now hectic, four-laned highway. Everyone seemed to be on their way to work all at once. Tucker allowed me to drive without interruptions.

"Which off-ramp do you want me to take?" I asked, nearing my own neighbourhood.

"Take Pier. We patrol from Pier Street all the way to the cove at the end of Dunn Drive."

It incorporated a huge area of New Haven, the business district around the pier, the whole Market Square residential area and the wilder, less disturbed area around Dunn Cove.

"Are two people enough for this whole area?" I wanted to know.

"At the moment it is mostly free from gangs and considered one of the safest neighbourhoods. We have not had any serious problems here for quite some time. The Captain feels that one vehicle is adequate for the area. We can always request back-up when needed."

"What are we supposed to be watching out for?" I wanted to know. I had only a vague idea of the actual work we were supposed to do.

"Keeping the peace, by allowing everyone to see we are in the neighbourhood" Tucker sighed.

"Criminals prefer not to work in randomly patrolled areas. We can be called out to other sectors at any time, so just keep an open mind and eye on everything."

I brought the vehicle over to the Pier off-ramp. We made good time even with all the traffic. People seemed to move out of our way automatically when they saw a NHSF vehicle coming.

"Take the first street left, we'll zigzag the streets today. I want to stop at the local grocer. They have the freshest pastries in New Haven."

"I know. I actually live only two blocks from them. In the Heights Building."

I did not know why I had volunteered the information. It was as if Tucker knew how to extract it from me.

His thoughts became clear to me for a split second.

It was quite unexpected.

He was trying to fill in the blanks on the questionnaire. He really seemed interested in me.

"Han, you okay?" Tucker's voice came through the shock of the unexpected information.

I must have gone blank for a second, noticing that I had driven right over an intersection where I was supposed to have stopped. I continued on as if nothing had happened.

"Yes. Sorry about the stop. Habit. It never used to be a stop." It was a poor excuse. All the traffic signs showed abuse, even bullet holes.

It was an inadequate start to a new job where lives depended on your undivided attention to detail at all times. I blew it on my first day.

Tucker did not ask me any further questions.

We reached Luke's and I found an empty parking right in front of the wide double doors. Luke's was always busy first thing in the morning.

"You're one lucky man, Han. I never get good parking" Tucker smiled at me.

I felt more at ease, although I knew he would never forget what had happened five minutes ago.

"Well, are you coming?" he wanted to know as he exited the vehicle.

I switched the vehicle off and climbed out.

"Bring the hand-held in case anybody needs us" Tucker ordered.

Taking the hand-held communicator that was linked to the vehicle, I joined Tucker at the entrance.

After twelve years of buying at a particular shop, one gets to know the people and I was greeted by the owner and his wife. They seemed genuinely impressed by the uniform.

"Well, Han! Look at you. Our very own Officer. We'll really sleep better at night now. And who is this?" the aging woman wanted to know from me.

"Sergeant Tucker; Mr and Mrs Luke" I introduced.

"We're so pleased to meet Han's partner" Mr Luke lisped in his funny accent.

I've never quite figured out exactly where they originated from. They were neither from Oriental, nor one of the Equatorial Clans. They had the darker skins of the Mountain Clans, but did not fit in that category either, their skin-tone having a more metallic sheen to it. They always, quite carefully, avoided any questions leading in that direction.

Right now, I hoped they would not embarrass me in front of Tucker.

It was too late.

"It is so interesting that Han chose the path of Security Officer. You know, we met him when he was just so high" Mr Luke tapped his hip. "I caught him stealing food. His father left him without a thing in the apartment. No food and no money. We took care of him for a while."

I remembered distinctly that I was a virtual slave for a few weeks, cleaning and packing the store until I had 'worked' off my debts.

It was soon after that episode that I had discovered my gift at gambling; and never looked back. I became a model citizen overnight.

"And now we really have to get some pastries and be on our way. Please" I encouraged Mrs Luke away from Tucker.

"What type do you want?" I asked an amused Tucker.

"Fruit and savoury. An equal mix, about twelve of each, and some juice."

Well that was an easy order to fill. I hoped he was paying for it.

I came back with Tucker's order and was relieved when he actually did pay for everything.

I bought some chocolate slabs for myself. I found it helped with the irritability I had been experiencing the last few months.

It was becoming progressively worse and I was thinking of having myself checked out by a proper physician. The medic at the academy had given me an all-clear on my physical, but I was still not feeling my old self.

We took breakfast in the vehicle.

Half a slab of chocolate later, I was starting to feel mellow again. Tucker had a few of his pastries. He offered me some, but I declined.

After he had finished up, I started the vehicle, looking at him for directions.

"Take it slowly up and down the streets. That is what I usually do, merely showing everyone that the Law is around."

We were both silent for a few blocks. I concentrated mainly on my driving, avoiding further incidents.

When we reached a deserted Dunn Drive, we made our first turn back to the city. There were no further houses beyond Dunn. It was all wild brush. The NHSF Academy lay somewhere beyond that wild patch.

Tucker was watching me again.

"You are not a talkative type, are you" he inquired.

I smiled at him. "No, I cannot be accused of that."

Silence for another few blocks.

This was becoming extremely uncomfortable.

I thought of trying to scan his thoughts again, but decided it was too dangerous to do while driving.

"What happened to your father?" he suddenly asked.

Right, so that was what he was thinking about.

"Nothing. There never was one." I kept my eyes on the road.

"Oh?" It was a question that was not to be answered.

Pre-sight invaded.

I stopped immediately.

"Wait a minute" I held up my finger to Tucker as I jumped out of the vehicle.

While opening the gate to a property on the right-hand side of the street, I saw four youths in the back yard, trying to break into the house.

No, that was not right.

They were thinking of breaking into the house.

I found all four as I had seen them seconds before they went into action in my vision.

"Okay, guys, break it up. You cannot play in this yard" I ordered. "Now go! Get back to school before you get into serious trouble."

They were stunned, then scattered in every direction.

Two made it over the high wall. The other two ducked past Tucker through the gate. They were all well gone by the time Tucker joined me at the back door.

"You know those kids?" he asked.

"I've seen them around the neighbourhood. I do not think they will trespass again any time soon."

I tried to look as innocent as I could before carefully closing the gate behind us.

We resumed our interrupted drive.

We were barely two blocks away when I had another vision.

I tried to keep it as natural as possible.

"Something is not right at that house" I told Tucker.

I was referring to a white building without fences. The vegetables in the front garden were all limp with dehydration. I stopped in front of the house and did not wait for Tucker, knowing that the old man inside the house needed urgent medical attention.

I made a show of looking through the kitchen window first, then tried the locked door.

"Sir! It's the NHSF. You okay?"

There was obviously no reply, so I promptly put a shoulder to the door and went inside.

Running up the stairs, I found the old man lying on the bathroom floor.

"Han!?"

Tucker was looking for me.

"Call the paramedics" I shouted back. "We have an unconscious man in his sixties with a broken hip."

Tucker went back to the vehicle as he had forgotten the portable.

I found a glass and brought water over to the old man. Moistening his cracked lips, I managed to drip some water onto his tongue. The old man was slowly coming to.

Sitting flat on my backside in a cross-legged position, I placed his head in my lap before giving him some more water.

"Stay still and listen to me" I cautioned him.

Tucker was standing in the door to the bathroom, observing us.

"Your hip is broken and you have been in this condition for a considerable amount of time. Your body is tolerating the pain at the moment. Excessive movement will send you over the edge again. It is your choice. Stay with me and have some more fluids, or be unconscious again. Just nod your answer. I'll feel it either way."

I was grateful to feel the slight positive nod between my hands.

It felt as if I was feeling this man's physical pain. I willed the pain to flow out of his body, into my hands and through my body, dispersing into the floor.

Where this notion came from of doing such a thing, I did not care to think upon. I knew that this was the only way I could help this man right now.

I breathed with the spasms of pain that invaded my body.

Closing my eyes, I ignored it, seeing it pass through me into the floor and away into Creata.

I could hear the siren of the emergency vehicle.

"The paramedics will be here soon. You're going to be okay" I told the old man.

Again I felt the faint nod between my hands.

Tucker left his position at the door to direct the paramedics to us. I stopped the evacuation of the pain from the old man. He was already looking better.

Upon their arrival, the paramedics assessed the situation.

"Stay right where you are," the team leader advised me, before checking their new patient's vitals.

They seemed happy enough with it.

"We're going to give you something for the pain" the team leader told the old man, who carefully nodded his understanding.

They found a vein and inserted an IV drip, then injected the painkiller using the drip.

Giving it a few minutes to kick in, they queried Tucker. "How long since you found him?"

"Fifteen, twenty minutes" Tucker answered.

"You found him in an unconscious condition?" the paramedic confirmed with Tucker.

"Yes" Tucker replied.

I was following this conversation with interest. My patient could not talk as yet.

My patient.

What was I thinking?

"Anyway, whatever you did, he's doing much better now." The paramedic continued his conversation with Tucker.

"Han talked to him calmly, explaining the situation he is in" Tucker explained.

The paramedic turned to me. "You did a good thing. Now, on the count of three, I want you to help us roll him onto the stretcher so his broken hip faces up. Ready?"

I nodded the affirmative.

On the count of three, we rolled the old man onto the stretcher. It seemed the most natural thing to do as I helped settle him. The old man ventured a tired smile at me, a huge thank you in his eyes. I touched his shoulder before the paramedics took him away.

Tucker followed them out.

I felt tired and drained, as if I had broken my own hip. It still hurt, so I willed the last of the pain to disappear.

I found Tucker outside, organizing security for the house and taking the old man's details from the neighbours. They were unaware that anything was amiss until the Emergency Vehicle pulled up.

I had some more chocolate when I reached the vehicle. It picked up my spirits and I was ready to leave within minutes.

We were driving a grid pattern between Pier and Dunn and drove in silence until we made our next turn at Pier Street.

"You do notice things when you have all your attention on it" Tucker said.

Not sure whether it was a question or a conclusion, I kept silent, bracing myself for the next pre-sight vision.

My nerves were raw by the end of our second turn-around at Pier.

Tucker noticed.

"You seem tense. Pull over. I'll drive for a while" he announced.

Not commenting, I brought the vehicle to a stop before swapping positions.

Tucker offered me the rest of his pastries. I did not decline, finishing them in record time.

He handed me his spare juice, which I promptly finished.

I was starting to feel better and made a note to pack some lunch tomorrow. Obviously, the chocolate was not enough.

We were entering a small business centre within the community and had almost reached the Pawn-shop when I 'saw' two men entering it, threatening the proprietor with firearms.

There was no time to put this over softly to Tucker.

"Stop the vehicle!"

He promptly did, looking around to see what the problem was.

"The two men walking towards the Pawn-shop. I know them" I explained. "They are old hands at holding people up in this neighbourhood. I bet you they are trying to do it again."

Tucker switched on the vehicle siren for one turn.

The two men started running and the pursuit was on.

They ran down a closed-off alley at the side of the Pawn-shop.

I jumped out of the vehicle, continuing after them on foot while Tucker drove the vehicle around to the other street.

Flashes of pre-sight invaded as I tried my best to concentrate on running and keeping the would-be perpetrators in sight.

The visions were annoying and absolutely disorienting.

Somehow, I caught hold of the slower perpetrator busy pulling himself over the wall. Grabbing both his legs, I brought him down hard.

He grappled for the firearm in his trousers.

I hit him, all my frustration channelled into my fist.

He went down in a heap.

It would be a long time before he would wake up.

Scaling the wall, I felt, and saw Tucker in imminent danger.

Knowing by the timing of the other visions that I had only seconds to spare, I took a flying leap from the top of the wall onto the second perpetrator.

He had been preparing to fire on Tucker as he drove down the alley. The bullet grazed the squad vehicle and I heard it hitting a tree with a dull slap.

The cuffs were on the perp before he could orientate himself.

The adrenaline was pumping throughout my body as I took a step back from the secured man. I wished I could take my frustration out on him too.

Tucker allowed me to stand where I was while calling for back-up.

"Where's the other one?" he wanted to know from me.

"Other side of the fence.

Needing a medic by the looks of it.

He tried pulling his firearm on me and I did not have time to fool around."

I heard my voice.

It was not me speaking.

I drew a deep breath and tried to control my racing heart.

Tucker looked at me for a long minute, before requesting an emergency vehicle to be dispatched as well.

He brought over a slab of chocolate. "Here. Finish it. It seems to calm you down."

Tucker picked up the firearm with a pen and placed it in a forensics bag. Then he read the perp his rights before manhandling him into the back seat.

"Get in."

He was talking to me.

I climbed into the vehicle.

We drove around the block to reach the alley on the other side of the fence.

"Stay in the vehicle."

I was not planning to go and inspect my handy-work.

Tucker came back with the other firearm, also bagging it for forensics.

"You did an excellent job on that one" he remarked sarcastically.

"Let me see you hand."

I presented my right hand. The knuckles had a reddish hue, but the skin was not broken.

"Okay, let us set the record straight. You hit him with your baton, right?"

I caught on. I was not supposed to be strong enough to break a man's jaw with my bare fist.

"Right."

Our back-up vehicle arrived. It was Stacey and her friendly dark-skinned sergeant.

Tucker took the sergeant to inspect the unconscious perp. We were still waiting for the emergency vehicle.

Stacey came over to my window. "You look spooked. Did you see a ghost?"

Good Universe, I thought to myself. At the rate I was going I would probably end up having to deal with those as well!

"No, we had a busy morning. For such a quiet sector, it turned out to be quite exciting" I answered. "And you?"

"Booor-ing! We are on back-up duty this week, so we lounge around the precinct until someone needs us."

"Bummer" I agreed with her.

"At least you are providing some excitement on my first day."

She looked at me closely. "Are you sure you are okay. You do not look so great."

"I'm sure. I'm fine."

The sergeants were returning.

"Stace, get that perp out of 23 and into ours" her sergeant ordered.

I let her do it herself. She was strong enough to handle most men twice her size, and she would be extremely offended if I were to try and help.

She transferred the prisoner without any effort. Her sergeant beamed at her.

"See" he told Tucker "she is as strong as any of us. Besides" he glanced at me "I'm more inclined to say you drew the runt of the litter."

I was not impressed with his comment.

Stacey was to escort the unconscious perp to the hospital, so was left behind by her sergeant.

When the Emergency Vehicle arrived, the medics stabilized the unconscious man and wheeled him into their vehicle.

The head medic wanted to know what we had used on the man and, as pre-arranged, Tucker replied that it was a baton. They nodded and fiddled some more with their patient.

Stacey bent down to look me in the eye.

"I grew up in a house with professional boxers. That was a well-placed fist. That was you, was it not?"

I did not need to answer her.

"Keep your temper under control" she continued. "You're going to land yourself in serious trouble. Do you hear me? Do not blow this. You've worked far too hard to simply give this up."

With this heartfelt advice she entered the EV, winking at me as it sped off.

Tucker sighed as they drove off.

He climbed stiffly into our vehicle.

He did not seem angry, more exasperated than anything else.

"Let's find some coffee" he announced and drove over to the tiny café that served this small business centre.

He sat me down at the first of the three tables on the pavement before going inside to place his order.

The tables looked pleasant with yellow and red chequered cloths over, adding warmth to a nice late-summer day. I took a few deep breaths to prepare myself for the inevitable lecture.

Tucker sat down and stared at me. It made me extremely uncomfortable. I could not face his eyes and kept my attention on the surrounding neighbourhood.

I had not been prepared for what I had experienced today. I did not know that this was going to happen and that my body would have this reaction to the pre-sight visions.

It felt as if someone had opened my psyche up to do things I could not control. I desperately wanted to understand what was going on with me.

The coffee came and Tucker thanked the waitress. I eyed the sugar-cakes covered with cinnamon that was delivered with our order.

"You may have them. I thought you might feel like something to eat."

He was right. I was feeling hungry and the plate was cleared in no-time. The cakes were delicious. The coffee was strong, black, and piping hot. I took it a sip at a time, trying to postpone the conversation that I knew was coming.

Tucker sipped his coffee too, not taking his eyes off mine. I still could not face him.

Finally he spoke up.

"I have been an officer my whole life. I'm trained to see detail. You are an open book to me, Han Storm. I know what you are and have a notion of what you can do. Even if you try to keep it under control, you just cannot, can you?"

Incredulous relief flooded throughout me!

Now I could meet his eyes.

He knew.

He was right, no matter how hard I tried, I could not keep my psychic visions under control.

"Are you not afraid of me now that you know?" I asked him.

It baffled me that most people on Creata took psychic abilities for granted.

"No, should I be?" he questioned back.

I could not answer him, but somewhere, deep down, I suspected that he should be.

He continued and I listened attentively.

"We all know that psychics are special people with special skills. People born with psychic abilities are more open to the ancient knowledge of the Higher Worlds.

You are a very special person, Han. Untrained in your skills, I have to admit. Rough at the edges, and that is where your slip-ups happen.

But you can train yourself and grow within your skills. I feel it in my gut. I also feel that you are destined for things far greater that the Security Forces."

He took another sip from his coffee.

I was battling a growing feeling of utmost panic. The Destiny issue was being driven home again.

"At the moment I can only support you by giving you the opportunity to learn and grow within your skills. A slip-up in front of me is no damage to either one of us. A slip-up in front of others could get you picked up by the Government." He let that sink in for a bit before continuing.

"So, what do you say? We work together and get your skills working for us, instead of against us. Deal?"

Of course it was a deal.

"Okay, on one condition" I answered him.

"What condition?"

"I need to work things out for myself without interference."

"I can live with that."

I was suddenly feeling much chirpier and confident.

"Vehicle 23, please respond."

It was the operator at the precinct.

Tucker picked up the hand-held from the table. "Vehicle 23, go ahead."

"Domestic disturbance reported at 105 Fishery Road."

"We're on our way. ETA 3 minutes" Tucker replied.

The comm disconnected.

"Let's go."

I had drained the last of my coffee while Tucker was speaking on the comm.

"This is your home turf" Tucker said, handing me the keys.

I drove around the block to Fishery Road. The address was at one of the old packing plants that had been converted into apartments, providing much needed accommodation for the working class.

People were standing around outside the apartment building.

I carefully drove through the crowd that separated to allow us through. We stopped in the clearing the crowd had left in front of the building.

Only one man was standing in this clearing, broken glass, furniture and clothes scattered around him and on the pavement. A woman was screaming from the first floor, hurling a bottle of alcohol at him.

He ducked, the bottle missing him by a whisker. Hitting our vehicle, it shattered.

Tucker kept his cool. "You go up and fetch the lady for a little chat. I'll speak to the boyfriend." He left the vehicle and started interrogating the man. It made the woman livid. She hurled abuse at Tucker and the man.

I received a scowl from Tucker and hurried over to the building. Running up the stairs, I quickly found the apartment.

"NHSF, open up!" I called in my most authoritive voice.

I saw the bullet coming through the door before it actually happened, jumping out of the way right as the bullet tore through the door, slamming into the wall.

It was a small calibre, but would have killed me if I had not moved. In any case, any sized bullet meant for you sounds and looks huge.

Not waiting a moment longer, I drew my own firearm, kicking the door open.

The woman seemed to be in shock. She threw the weapon away from her, where it discharged as it hit the floor. Thankfully, the bullet slammed harmlessly into the opposite wall.

I replaced my firearm in its holster at my hip and arrested her on the spot. She was so high on drugs, I was not sure she comprehended anything I said to her anyway.

Still struggling to get my heart rate below a gallop, I heard Tucker calling me on my comm, concern clearly audible in his voice.

I dragged the woman over to the window.

"You okay?" Tucker wanted to know, calling up from the pavement.

"Yes," a flash of small scared faces under a bed invaded my thoughts. "We'd better get Social Services in here as well" I finished.

I knew Tucker had picked up on the slight lapse between sentences, realizing that my 'gift' was working overtime again.

I dragged the woman to the bedroom and sat her down on the bed, feeling sure she was not going anywhere.

Three small boys were hiding under the bed. I tried to calm them as best I could.

"Stay there. We are bringing someone that can help you" I advised them.

A short while later, Tucker entered the apartment, followed by the man.

The woman started screaming and swearing again, making it necessary for me to manhandle her out of the bedroom.

I did not stop to speak to Tucker, but took her straight to our vehicle, fighting her all the way. She was a handful and I was thankful when she was finally secured in the back seat, where she continued to scream and hurl abuse at me and everyone else in the vicinity.

When I saw Stacey driving up, I knew Tucker had called for back-up.

Stacey brought their vehicle to a standstill next to ours. Her Sergeant made his way over to Tucker in the apartment, while Stacey came around to me.

"Wow. You are really keeping us busy. What is it with you? By the way, you're looking better than this morning."

"Thank you. I'm feeling better."

It took both of us to transfer the intoxicated woman from one vehicle to the other. She struggled and kicked and head-butted us.

Eventually we had to pick her up and dump her into Stacey's vehicle.

Breathing hard, we finally slammed the door on her. She was still going insane in the back seat.

"Drugs" Stacey breathed out. "I've seen them like that before. My mother used to volunteer at a re-hab centre. I visited a couple of times. It is not a pretty picture."

"It makes one think twice about starting" I commented.

Substance abuse was a common occurrence on Creata, especially within the Cities. The Planetary Security Forces had marginal success in eliminating some of the drug plants.

Privately, I felt sure that the Government took some of the profits of this extremely lucrative industry. They definitely had the power and resources to eliminate the problem totally, it they wanted to.

Social Services arrived and we directed them up to the ruined apartment. Tucker came out as they went inside.

"Sergeant Picanté is looking for you" he told Stacey.

She nodded at me and went into the building.

Tucker gave the still ranting woman in the back of Stacey's vehicle a hard look.

"I hate the cases where children are involved. It always feels personal." He straightened up. "Anyway, time for us to go. Picanté will finish up here."

We continued down Fishery Road, heading west, back towards the industrial area, crossed over Pier and continued into our section of factories.

Tucker allowed me to drive around the area to familiarize myself with this lesser-known section.

There were loads of dead-ends and tiny alleys, a real nightmare if you did not know where you were going. I had a map at home, but it would have been useless compared to the actual layout of the factories.

When Tucker felt I would find my way around, we drove down to Beach Road. This was the south boundary of our turf, running along the waterfront between Pier and ending in a dead-end before it could reach Dunn.

The houses along this road spoke of upper middle-class people. Nothing fancy, yet distinctly separated form the rest of Market Square's factory worker population.

We turned around at the dead-end and headed back the way we came. Traffic was picking up as daily life continued. Children were returning home from school. It took careful driving with full attention to negotiate the oncoming traffic and the children in the street.

Tucker indicated that I should drive back towards Dunn.

"Not much will go on from now until after dark" he remarked. "Too many people about. The factory workers will be joining the crowds soon. So let's make a last run up Dunn, then take the Snout on-ramp and head back to Head Quarters."

I had no more pre-sights and was extremely relieved when we finally reached HQ.

Tucker showed me where to refill the vehicle behind the NHSF building.

Taking out a pass-card from the holding compartment within the vehicle, he swiped it over the scanner and the organic fuel was released through the pumping mechanism into the vehicle.

Tucker showed me what was required to be filled in on the log-book. One more mundane task learnt today.

We drove to the front of the building and parked the vehicle in its appropriate parking space before joining the other officers returning from their rounds.

The nightshift was heading the other way and everything seemed total organized chaos.

I stuck close to Tucker, apprehensive to get lost in the crowd of dark blue uniforms.

We steadily worked our way to our quieter cubicle. Tucker sat down heavily and indicated the chair opposite him. He gave me one of his thoughtful stares before he spoke to me.

"You're not one for crowded places either" he observed. "I've decided to do the paperwork this evening. Then you can see how it's done and you can do it tomorrow."

We worked through the 'cases' we had encountered throughout the day. The two arrest files were to go to the detectives for further investigation. The incident with the roaming children was duly noted on a separate Incident form by Tucker. The episode with the old man was filed under Public Services and the one with the woman under Public Disturbances.

By the time we were finished, the precinct suddenly felt deserted.

Tucker stacked the files neatly on his desk before we headed for the lockers.

"I shower at home" Tucker remarked when we reached the locker room. "I'll take my leave as soon as I have my civilians on. Try and get some sleep. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Thanks, until then."

We split up. His locker was right on the other side where the officers had private cubicles. I headed for the lockers nearest the back door.

The other rookies were all dressed in civilian clothes, and I noticed that Slick had already collected our winnings from them. He had a broad grin on his freckled face.

"I'll wait outside" he said, before heading for the door.

Ryan and Jack avoided contact and followed Slick. Stacey waited for me.

"You're working late already" she commented.

"Seems like it." I was tired and only wanted to go home.

"I've ordered a meal for you from Hankley's. They are just down the street, so stop there and ask for the order placed in your name. Here, it's on me." She held out some Crata notes towards me.

I've never turned down money, and I was not about to start. I took it from her.

"Thanks."

I had to give her credit. She really seemed to like me.

"You're welcome. See you tomorrow?"

I looked up at her.

Why did she make it a question? Did she know something I did not?

"Yes, of course."

She seemed relieved and retreated towards the door, giving me one more glance over her shoulder before stepping out, leaving me feeling comfortable with her body language.

After finishing up, I joined Slick outside. As we reached my vehicle, I saw Tucker coming out of the back door, heading towards his own vehicle.

Slick required my attention and I turned back to him. He counted the Crata notes in front of me.

I knew Tucker was watching and tried to ignore it.

"And I'm taking my commission, so that leaves you with a healthy profit of 115."

I realized I had only caught the last part of the sentence, but could not care.

My mind was racing with all that had transpired today, as well as a perception of hostility in the locker room.

Taking the money from him, I secured it in my wallet before squaring off against my friend.

"What is going on Slick? Why is everyone so upset with me?"

"You really do not get it." Another statement. It was infuriatingly irritating.

"No, so spit it out!" I held onto his arm, getting very upset.

"Please let go of me." He was firm but sympathetic toward me.

I released him. "Sorry. Please, let me know what I'm missing."

"That seems strange, coming from you. But okay.

First, you have all five sergeants right. That confirmed beyond a doubt that you are definitely psychic.

We feel that you had an unfair advantage in all bets since the Academy.

The stories of the arrests made by Tucker and yourself today have spread like wildfire through the Precinct.

To the few people that know you, it was most unlikely that you would act like a pro on your first day out, strengthening their conviction that you must have had 'help' through psychic abilities. They feel cheated that you did not confide in them about your abilities.

Secondly, Jack is jealous of you because of your abilities, Ryan hates your guts because you used your abilities for self gain. You know that he can be self-righteous at times.

And of course, Jack and Ryan both have a crush on Stacy, but realized today that their chances have been dashed. All of us could plainly see that Stacey is head over heels in love with you and if you cannot see that, then you are definitely not psychic.

To recap your first day on the job, what the hell did you expect was going to happen when you start working?

Pre-sight is like cancer. Start fiddling with it and it grows out of control.

You somehow slipped passed the Government.

Why do you think the Government takes control of people with your abilities?"

He tapped a finger on my chest.

I backed off half a step.

"To train them how to use their powers wisely, without fear of accidental misuse" he concluded.

He sighed before continuing in a softer, more sympathetic voice.

"You know, I pity your kind. You do not have a life of your own. Whatever path you choose, you'll always end up serving others."

He backed up a pace, gaining some space in case I wanted to hit him.

But I felt no anger towards him. I felt drained and tired.

I knew he was right. I've never felt like my own person.

"I understand. And our friendship?" I wanted to know from him.

Slick sighed. "You're a great business partner Han. You're loyal and fair, but I simply cannot relate to you socially. I never could.

If you need a bookie, give me a shout.

I'm sorry man, but you really scare me, scare all of us. Get control over your abilities. That will make things easier for all of us, including you."

He turned to go.

"Will the guys keep quiet about me?" I asked.

He turned back, looking me straight in the eye. "Your abilities have nothing to do with them. They merely want to get on with their new lives, no complications. None of them will rat on you."

I knew he was right.

"Thank you."

I watched him as he drove out of the precinct parking area.

What a day, I thought to myself as I slipped behind the steering wheel of the Commoner.

Glancing over at Tucker' parking bay, I saw him patiently sitting in his vehicle, waiting for me to leave. He probably knew what this conversation was about. I needed to practice keeping a straight face.

On the way home, I picked up the food Stacey had ordered for me from Hankley's take-away section.

It was a full warm dinner. The kind you have on Seventh Day with your family. I was thankful for her wisdom as I drove back to my apartment.

Avoiding the Highway, I took the quieter streets through the business district which was mostly deserted after dark. I reached my building as full darkness swept over New Haven.

The basement light had been replaced but the lift was still out of order. The stairs really kept my body in good condition, so I did not mind too much having to climb up to my apartment.

But not today. By the time I reached my door I was out of breath and soaked in sweat.

Maybe I was really coming down with something. I unlocked, took a shower and finished Stacey's dinner.

I had probably lost three friends today, was bought dinner by a woman that apparently loves me, and having to eat it alone only served to confirm the great divide between me and normal people.

I fell into bed, hoping that tomorrow would be easier.

##  Chapter Three

It was not.

I dreamt the whole night of procedures and paperwork and woke up drenched in sweat. After a shower I dressed straight into my uniform. It was a waste of time getting dressed at HQ.

I also did not want to spend more time in the locker room than necessary, having to face people who shun me because of what I am. Driving one-handed, I finished my light breakfast on the way to the office.

I arrived at our cubicle at exactly 06h00. Tucker was not there, neither were the case-files. I waited, at a loss as to what to do. The place seemed deserted with the shift change rush only starting at 07h00.

Hearing voices in the passage, I went to see who it was.

Tucker was talking to someone. The person was standing out of my view and it seemed to be a rather heated discussion.

Tucker noticed me watching them and closed the door to the office. I went back to our desk and sat down.

I somehow knew that conversation was about me. I had a really uncomfortable feeling regarding today. It bordered on premonition, when you knew something was going down, and it was not going to be good for you.

I waited quite a while, trying to keep my mind blank. The way I normally do it is by visualizing a blank page. It was really hard not to let any thoughts enter that page.

Tucker eventually joined me. He sat down, sighing. Then stared at me for so long I started fiddling. It seemed as if he was trying to make up his mind.

"I want to go show you something" he said at long last. "Come."

He stood up and I followed him to our squad vehicle. This time he did not hand me the keys, but drove us in pre-occupied silence to Dunn Cove.

Just before we reached the parking space at Dunn Cove, we turned east onto a dirt road with a huge 'Private - No Entry' sign. The road was in acceptable condition, indicating that it was in regular use.

We were soon driving in a lane with brush on both sides. The brush turned into thorny brambles that grew as high as a man's head. I could make out the spikes on a fence to our left, beyond the brambles.

Tucker parked the vehicle in front of giant, wrought iron gates that were bolted and locked from the inside.

Beyond the gate was a huge facility that could have been a prison.

Glancing over at Tucker, I patiently waited for him to say something.

He glared at the facility with hatred.

"I need you to understand the situation you find yourself in" he started. "This is a rehab for psychics. It is to places like these that the Government sends the ones that might be rehabilitated after cracking on the job. Post Traumatic Stress they call it.

The specific psychic skills that you presented yesterday are extremely rare and, unfortunately, like with all rare items, much sought after.

What makes your situation more difficult is that you are showing incredible healing skills too. And worse, all of this without any formal training. This makes you unique."

I sat like a statue, staring at the facility in front of us.

"I had a long, hard think last night" Tucker said. "I need you to answer my questions honestly. Can you do that?"

Okay, so no more games, absolute open cards.

I nodded.

"Were you in the Government Forster Care system as a child?" he wanted to know.

"Yes."

"Did anyone, at any time pick up on your psychic abilities?"

"Yes, I was sent to a private Psych teacher for a few weeks when I was about six."

"The Government will probably have a record of that."

It was not a question. I did not interrupt his chain of thoughts.

"Do you think your name would be flagged?" he asked.

"I honestly do not know."

"Can you try and 'see' something regarding this?"

"I currently work on spontaneous visions, I do not know if I can induce an event around a specific question or subject."

Where that mouthful came from, I did not know.

Not from Han Storm.

Tucker raised an eyebrow, thinking.

"Let us hope not. In the meantime we're going to continue as usual."

It was now my turn for questions.

"How do you know so much about psychics?" I started.

"It is my job to know."

I had to be satisfied with that. It probably was part of his job requirement at some or other stage.

"You said this place is a rehab. What does the Government use psychics for? As far as I understand, psychics are taken in by the Government for training in using their skills safely."

"That is exactly correct. They take them in and start the training in having control over their skills. As soon as the psychic achieves the necessary control, the Government starts taking advantage of their abilities. They do not give a crap about the person, only the end-results.

Mind reading and control through telepathy, manipulation of events, crowd control, heightened sensory perception, to name but a few. All of these are abused by the Government for their own capitalistic gain and to keep absolute control over every living entity on Creata.

In short, POWER.

And you. With your skills. What do you think they will give to be able to see the future?

When I said that you are unique, I really meant that. There have been people previously with pre-sight, but that only happens once every few generations, none since the creation of the Planetary Government" he concluded bitterly.

I was suddenly glad that I was still flying under the radar.

"What are my alternatives?" I wanted to know from him.

"There are psychics in a semi-private environment. They function normally, except when their abilities are needed by their specific companies that, shall we say, sponsor them.

These people are still considered Government property, but are so much in the spotlight and such huge investments for their companies, that it is highly unlikely for the Government to interfere in their lives.

At the moment, you are considered a free-lance psychic, somebody that shows potential, but only came into their abilities later in life. Most psychics show abilities as children and start their training at ten, when there seems to be a sudden opening up period."

It seemed to correspond with my development, so I was not so different from other psychics.

"You said I'm showing incredible healing skills. What did you mean by it?" I asked him.

"The old man you worked with yesterday. His hip is almost healed. The doctor said a few more days in hospital and he should be ready to go home."

"I really did nothing to help him heal. I just . . . took his pain away."

I sat thinking.

Tucker allowed me to.

Could it be that I somehow healed the man while taking his pain away?

It must have been, but I had no conscious recollection of wanting to heal him, except that at the time I had thought of him as my patient. That might have been it. I turned to face Tucker.

"And if it turns out to be true, how will that concern the Government?"

"Think further than your nose, Han.

Why would you need to pay doctors or pharmaceutical companies if you can have your own healer that heals by touch alone?

Someone that can see your future and can make you well. That is the ultimate find!"

"Are you thinking of keeping me for yourself?"

It was meant as a joke, but it came out so innocent, I surprised myself.

"No, but you are putting ideas in my head. Let's give it some time and see what else you can do. Just take it easy on me."

We sat staring at the place a minute more before Tucker suggested some coffee at Luke's. He was paying.

We were pulling into Luke's parking area when the comm crackled.

"Vehicle 23, homicide at 1504 Mountain Drive. Tucker, uniforms already on scene but we need extra hands to secure ASAP. Please respond."

"Vehicle 23 responding. ETA 15 minutes."

We had been called out to a murder crime-scene to help control and cordon off the area.

It was at a huge mansion in one of the better suburbs of the city and, of course, the driveway was crowded. Parking our vehicle in the street like an unwanted relation, we were directed to the house by another uniformed officer.

A detective escorted us up the stairs to help maintain a clean crime-scene. It was not unusual for Sergeants and their rookies to be called on to help out by Homicide. The detective told me to monitor the entry to the room for unauthorized personnel. Only the coroner and photographer were to be admitted. Tucker went inside the room to monitor the crime-scene.

A Homicide Detective was already on the scene. It was considered an initiation when a rookie is allowed to see his first murder victim and the good-looking, dark-skinned detective invited me in for a peek.

I shuddered as I walked into the room. There was a body of a woman on the double bed, tied up, spread-eagled. Her throat, wrists and ankles were severed and there was blood all over the place.

My physical senses took in the gruesome picture, but my spiritual senses were drawn beyond the bed.

A stunning young woman was looking at me. She was the spitting image of the body on the bed. She opened her arms towards the body on the bed, begging me soundlessly to help her get peace.

I jumped as the detective touched my elbow and I became aware that he and Tucker were staring at me.

"Sorry to have startled you. Are you okay?" the detective asked. He was looking at me in a disconcerting way.

As I glanced over at Tucker, I started putting things together. This was the person he had had an argument with this morning.

"We are here by request, aren't we?" I asked Tucker.

"Yes" Tucker replied. "This was one of the Politician's daughters. I know the potential of you skills. Please try to help."

The dark-skinned detective offered his hand and introduced himself.

"Hi, I'm Lieutenant Racewater. I've had some exposure to people like you. I'm not sure how you work, but if you can do what Tucker says . . . Please. Do you think you can help?"

"I'm not sure" I replied, releasing his firm handshake, an idea forming in my mind.

"I mostly see things. Sometimes before they happen, sometimes during, sometimes after. But not like this. This is outside of my limited experience" I answered him.

A black cat, covered in blood, was presented before my inner eye.

"You saw something when we came in" Tucker prodded, seemingly having a natural instinct for these psychic things.

"You were staring at the other side of the bed and looked as if you had seen a ghost. Care to share?" he continued.

"What's the victim's name?" I asked, buying myself some time to get over the worst of my shock.

"Cheryl Papinidis" Racewater replied.

"She's still standing there in the corner" I told them. I perceived her as alive as Tucker and Racewater.

It was extremely disconcerting for me.

"You mean her ghost?" both Tucker and Racewater enquired at the same time and stared at the corner too. They were not comfortable with the information.

"Yes."

"Is she talking or communicating to you in any way?" Racewater wanted to know.

"Not really. I wish to touch her blood, if it's allowed." I continued on to avoid further discussion of the stunning deceased woman. "I do not know what will happen. I only know that I need to touch what represents her life essence."

"Yes, okay" replied Racewater.

Turning to Tucker he said "Close the door and stand guard, I'll handle Storm".

After Tucker had secured the door, he turned back to me and nodded "When you're ready."

The Psych teacher, Zane, always insisted that the left hand was for receiving and the right for giving, so I carefully dipped the fingertips of my left hand into the blood on the floor . . .

It felt as if I was thrown back in 'time' to this place, approximately ten minutes or so before the actual deed happened.

I opened the front door with a key, but my hands were manicured with red-pink nails, the same as Cheryl was wearing.

Something, or somebody told me I was NOT her, that I was simply experiencing what she had experienced.

This someone was screaming at me to get out of her body and be a third party.

I did not know how to separate from Cheryl.

For now, I was Cheryl, stuck in her body.

I saw my reflection in the mirror – Cheryl was looking back at me. She fixed her hair and she/I went through to the bedroom.

I felt elated and aroused at the sight of the naked young man on the bed, experiencing them coming together in an animal way, totally absorbed in their passion.

And still I knew I was being prompted by someone, or something, to get out of the shared body memory and become an observer only.

Being stuck gave me all the emotional and sensory experiences of the victim.

I felt surprise when my throat was slit. It was quick, almost painless, wet and hot.

I followed as Cheryl's spirit slipped out of her body to observe the mutilation. I was angry at the man and I silently cursed him. A name filled my mind – and then - nothing!

Someone was tugging at my left hand.

I heard voices.

The sound was distorted, as if it was coming through a tunnel.

The gruff voice of Tucker broke through the tunnel.

"He's coming to".

It was a struggle to reclaim myself and orientate where I was.

I opened my eyes.

I was sitting in a bathroom.

The photographer was busy in the bedroom . . .

Tucker and Racewater squatting next to me.

Tucker was cleaning my left hand . . .

a paramedic bending over me.

I finally focused.

"You had us all in a bit of a panic" the paramedic told me. "You fainted in the room, smearing your hand with the poor girl's blood. I gave you a calming agent for the shock. I've never seen anyone take it so bad. Women faint, but men usually vomit."

I thought it a great idea, pushing Tucker out of the way to get to the toilet, depositing my meagre breakfast in it.

As the paramedic prepared to leave, Racewater asked Tucker to take me home while he wrapped up.

I was just too glad to leave the crime-scene, nodding to the girl's spirit as we passed the bed, thankful that she indicated that she would stay near her body.

We did not speak until we were inside our vehicle.

Starting the vehicle, Tucker remarked "You gave us quite a scare. You touched that blood and went down in a heap. You were out cold and nothing we did would wake you up.

Luckily, the paramedics arrived quickly and gave you an injection. Then they stuck some strong smelling stuff under your nose. It is unusual for someone to overreact like that. What happened?"

I tried to explain as best I could, stating what I had 'seen' rather than what I had experienced myself, skipping the sex and sticking to the 'facts'.

I also tried to explain that this was my first vision through a deceased person and a learning curve for all of us. Next time I would be prepared as to what to expect and should be able to handle the situation better.

"I also need a sketch-artist. I saw the guy's face and have a name to go with it".

Tucker was stunned. "So your visions can give us clues. That's great news!"

We drove back to the Precinct where I gave an accurate description to the sketch-artist of the man that had killed the woman.

At the end of the session I was battling to keep my eyes open. Tucker noticed and unobtrusively ushered me to our squad vehicle and drove me home.

We kept our thoughts to ourselves until we reached my building. I, for one, was too tired to think, yet sleep did not come in the vehicle.

"I'm worried about you, Han. Your body obviously took a huge amount of stress. Are you going to be okay?"

"Yes, I think so" I replied. "What's going to happen now that the Lieutenant has confirmation that I am psychic?"

"I'm not sure, but I'll bet you'll be having a new partner within a day or so. You've done your duty on this case, Han. Whatever else needs to be done, I feel sure, are for others to do. Go rest now. I'll pick you up tomorrow morning."

For once, the lift worked and I did not have to climb up the stairs.

I made sure my door was locked behind me.

On my way to the kitchen I glanced in the passage mirror. My handsome looks were blunted by a deathly pale skin. My eyes were made even larger than usual by the dark circles under them. Combined with my dark hair, I really could pass for a corpse.

I quickly walked to the kitchen and poured myself some juice, then went out onto the patio to soak up the morning sun.

Reflecting upon all that had happened, I wished I had paid more attention to Professor Zane, the Psych teacher to which one of my foster families had sent me for some lessons early on in my life.

That was during the time my strange dreams began.

Even then, I had to figure out what day it was and what life I occupied every time I woke up in this body. All of it was pretty confusing for a young child without a regular support system. It is still very confusing for a young adult.

And now the New Haven Security Forces knew about my abilities. Now I'll get no rest whatsoever. They will use and abuse me until I end up in a place similar to the one Tucker showed me this morning.

I shrugged.

It was only a matter of time anyway. I was too tired to care and went to bed . . .

I was standing on the edge of a cliff. A huge valley opened at my feet. Desert surrounded me on all sides. I felt utterly alone. There was a high wind and it was picking up. I tried to resist, but a gust caught me and ripped me over the edge.

There was no sensation of falling. I was suddenly surrounded by huge, ancient looking columns supporting a vaulted ceiling, also forming a central passage.

Behind these columns were the openings to huge hallways.

I walked through the unnatural silence.

Suddenly, a golden orb presented itself to me. I felt that this was a male energy. The orb materialized into a humanoid form.

"I refer to myself as Sensaii" the ancient shining being told me.

This all seemed familiar somehow and I was feeling peaceful. At least this was not a nightmare.

"I'm the one that will guide and help you through the labyrinths of the alter planes" the humanoid form said.

I realized then that I'd met this being before this dream.

"I remember you" I replied. "You're the one who kept on telling me to detach from Cheryl's body."

The being smiled and led me to a chamber that looked like an auditorium.

"Here," he explained, "students, like yourself, can gain or download information and knowledge."

A dry mouth and throat woke me from this strange dream.

A headache was starting up at the base of my skull and rebounded between my eyebrows. It was extremely annoying as I lay on my bed, trying to take stock of what had happened since this morning.

Nothing made sense, and the thinking made the headache worse. I tried to concentrate only on physical things.

Willing my body to work, I made it out of bed into the bathroom, the headache jumping in intensity.

I drank some water, relieving the inability to swallow. As I started washing up I glanced in the mirror, suddenly feeling faint.

Sensaii, dressed neatly in classical oriental garb, with white collar and all, stared at me with crossed arms and a huge smile on his face.

So, my dream was not a dream at all.

*Are you ready for today?* he wanted to know.

I did not hear any sound, but knew what was said to me.

The being spoke directly inside my brain.

It was as if there was a warm presence throbbing inside my head, and I suddenly had the answer to the question I wanted to ask.

It was a telepathic conversation with no room for error or misunderstanding.

Before I could reply to Sensaii's question, my front door was almost taken off its hinges by a loud banging.

"Coming!" I shouted, almost choking on toothpaste. I grabbed a towel and dried my face while rushing to open the door.

Tucker looked extremely relieved to see me.

"Hi. I was getting worried there for a moment when you did not answer."

I was puzzled, what did I miss?

I did not hear any knocking on the door.

As far as I know, I answered straight away, or did I?

Tucker did not give me any opportunity to figure out this mystery.

"Showered yet? No? Go! I'll make some coffee while you finish up."

Back in the bathroom, I asked Sensaii, who was still lounging against the shower wall, just what had happened.

Sensaii's explanation was even more confusing than a straight answer would have been.

*There is no 'time' in the spirit realm, where we all come from, where you are now starting to work.

Bodies in the Matter, or physical realm, need the time continuum to be able to function in a logical way. When we communicate with you, or the other way around, 'time', as you know it, will be reduced or extended.

As you grow in your possibilities we will provide you with time-keepers to protect your body so you can return to it without the body being harmed too much.*

"As if I understand what you are talking about. Now please be quiet, my head hurts" I answered him. And with that, I closed the shower curtain on this new being in my confusing life and enjoyed the hot water.

I was thankful to note Sensaii's absence when I dried and dressed.

I found Tucker in the kitchen preparing food with Sensaii giving running commentary on all Tucker's efforts.

It was quite a sight as Tucker repeatedly walked through Sensaii, muttering to himself as he finished dishing up eggs, bacon and toast for us two physical beings.

I had to smile to myself as I realized that my life would never again be the same.

##  Chapter Four

There were a million unanswered questions milling around in my throbbing head, when I finally discovered some commercial headache tablets at the back of my medicine cupboard.

It was quite bare as I almost never got sick. Tucker watched me swallow two tablets with his excellent coffee.

"I thought you were only picking me up tomorrow" I commented as I prepared to start my portion of food.

"I'm afraid it is tomorrow already. Do you want to tell me you've slept right through?"

I froze for a second between bites, working time out for myself.

I've lost a whole day. This was a serious issue. I tried to hide my concern.

"It looks that way. I must say, I'm feeling much better."

Tucker seemed relieved with this answer.

Sensaii had his own opinion and it came through as *Liar.*

Ignoring him, I concentrated on finishing breakfast. I had had nothing to eat since Stacey's generous offer, and the breakfast that I had lost at the crime scene did not count.

We did not start patrolling our turf, as I had anticipated.

Instead, Tucker drove us straight back to Head Quarters. He felt it wiser to drive himself, until he was sure I was up to standard physical performance again.

Sensaii was no-where in my perceptions, which was just as well, for I had not made up my mind how I felt about him yet.

At the Precinct, we went straight to the Captain's office.

Racewater was already there, his rugged face gleaming with success.

Tucker gave me an 'I told you so!' look as we entered.

Captain Truman pulled his hand through his hair, a definite sign of his irritation. Coming around his massive desk, he tried to smooth the creases in his tailored pants.

"Well Tucker. It came to my attention that our young Storm is quite talented. As you are all probably aware, this will be kept strictly between us, for now."

He presented us both with badges.

"Congratulations, you are now Detectives" he announced. "You will report directly to Lieutenant Racewater. And Tucker, you will exclusively assist Storm with anything he needs."

Racewater continued to explain.

"Like I've said before, I'm not entirely new to this psychic thing. I've worked with some people with amazing abilities. I also know the personal toll this takes. The Captain is prepared to put an extra man on his new asset. To help give Han the chance to grow his talents."

Turning to Captain Truman he stated "We will not disappoint you Captain."

The Captain dismissed us all with a gruff "Humpff."

Racewater escorted us to the basement of the building where Homicide resided.

Showing us into the last office at the end of the corridor, he announced with some pride "This is an office I had cleared out last night."

Pointing to a prominent paper under the directly linked comm, he continued "That is a list of important comm numbers you might need. The coroner, sketch-artist, and mobile numbers for all the Homicide Detectives. Keep it handy.

I've also taken the liberty to draw all the current case files we're stuck with. I want Han to have a look at them. Maybe you can come up with fresh leads.

Tucker, I suggest you move your belongings from your desk at Uniforms while Han starts on the files."

Both Tucker and I glanced over at the piles of files in one corner.

"Yes, it's in the boxes on the floor" Racewater confirmed before excusing himself to continue with his own work.

Tucker looked at me with a sad smile and commented "Well, get to it, Han. No use wasting time, allowing the bad guys to get away. I'll go fetch our stuff."

As Tucker's bulk receded down the corridor, I had a look around the office.

Two desks, facing each other, were surrounded by four straight backed chairs. A direct comm was situated on the desk nearest the door, with some filing cabinets at the back of the office and two huge boxes holding case files stood on the floor next to the desk furthest from the door.

Obviously my desk, so that I would not exhaust myself too much reaching for the files, I suppose.

In total, a definite promotion from the cubby hole we had.

I picked up the nearest box, placing it on the desk.

A sudden spell of utmost fear and dread almost overwhelmed me.

"Sensaii?" I asked into the silence of the room.

No answer, no sight or feeling of this traitorous new entity.

Great, pushed in the deep end with no swimming instructor in sight.

Despondent, I closed the office door.

*It's okay* the words sounded in my head.

I turned around. Sensaii stood next to my desk.

*This is a great opportunity to practice and grow your newfound skills. Come, sit* he invited.

*One file at a time* he cautioned. *I'll guide you through whatever happens. You're quite safe. Before we start, I think it best for you to provide yourself with some brain energy food – chocolate will also help with fatigue as your body is not used to this work yet.*

Great for telling me now. I've been literally living off chocolate the last few months.

Suddenly a lot of things fell in place.

Could it be that Tucker was right? That I really was coming into my skills only now?

My thoughts were interrupted by a message on my comm. It was from Jack, thanking me for the payment of the repairs on his Rogue. I distinctly remembered not paying him anything.

The missing piece of conversation when Slick was giving me my winnings suddenly played in my head. He had paid Jack out of my winnings! Alright. So one less item to worry about.

I contacted the cafeteria and ordered a dozen dough cakes.

Again Sensaii cautioned me.

*Before we start. Become the observer. Do not get involved personally. This did not happen to you. Detach yourself from whatever you see or may experience. Be the Professional.*

I did not answer, opening the first file.

It was on a woman found strangled in her apartment. There was no sign of breaking and entering. The front door was open.

I scanned the report.

Nothing happened.

I looked at the photos.

Still nothing happened.

I glanced over at Sensaii who encouraged me to continue with a flick of his wrist.

The word 'essence' came to me.

I needed to concentrate on the essence of an entity to find that entity.

Placing the photo of the deceased woman in front of me, I closed my eyes and touched the picture with the fingertips of my left hand . . .

Immediately images started forming – and my headache started up too.

I suddenly found myself transported, more like sucked, to the apartment, back in time to also approximately ten minutes before the woman's demise.

Strangely, this time, the images were presented in black and white.

A man was at the door. The woman knew him and opened up. They talked. I could not hear any sound. Only the black and white 'film'. The man suddenly went livid and grabbed the woman by the neck. The rest is history.

I was pulled back into real-time by a knock on the office door . . .

The girl from the cafeteria brought my sweets over.

"I'm sorry to interrupt" she told me. "You did not answer, so I assumed it was alright if I came in."

I paid for the dough cakes.

"Thanks for bringing it all the way to the Dungeon" I told her.

She laughed at my comment. It was a happy sound in this dreary environment.

"I've never heard that description of Homicide before. I think it is great." She closed the door behind her.

I devoured two dough cakes and felt instantly better.

Returning to the report, I scanned it to see who else was under investigation. The woman had an ex-husband but there were no pictures of him in the file, so no help there.

*Sensaii, why was this so different from yesterday's vision?* I wanted to know from my spirit guide.

*Today you are working with indirect contact. The response differs from one psychic to the next. No psychic has the exact same response. You might be able to relate to others with your gift in a sense that some of you experience visions similarly, but every vision is unique. It also depends on how old the energy trail is.*

*Energy trail?*

*Everything in the Universe leaves a trail of energy or particles, like footprints. If you can pick up on some-one's energy or particle trail, you will be able to find any living or 'dead' entity on this Planet. You could even follow their trial to the Recording Halls.*

So there you have it. I have now been promoted to a sniffer dog.

Tucker returned with our stuff in a box and I shared my experience with him.

This was a learning curve for all of us and he commented that "There are no set rules here. I really hope you do not have visions in cartoon format. I would be unable to explain that to the Chief."

After my experience, I did not think him funny.

Racewater retuned immediately after the re-telling of my experience.

"Great news!" he blurted. "It turned out the Senator's daughter had a secret lover. We brought him in for questioning as soon as we connected a surname to the name and description you gave us.

He confessed almost immediately to Cheryl's brutal murder. There was a twist to the tale though. Apparently, the lover was paid by another politician to rough her up a bit, but it went totally out of hand and a lot of drugs were involved. So now there is a huge investigation, all triggered by Han."

"What do we do now regarding the case?" Tucker wanted to know.

"Nothing. Han's talents are much too valuable to be wasted on run of the mill stuff. He only needs to develop the leads. We'll do the rest of the arrests and so on. You guys figure out the clues".

See, as I suspected. A glorified sniffer dog.

With that, Tucker relayed the essential facts of our first case file, as he saw fit to tell Racewater. We had not even had time to make notes yet, so all information was scribbled down in a hurry by Racewater.

Racewater took the file and looked over at me. "I really think this is going to work. I'll get the detective onto the new lead right away. See what you can find on the other files."

Tucker insisted on me freshening up before starting on the next file.

"It is totally unacceptable if you should crash on us like yesterday. I'll start sorting the files in order of importance. Now go take a walk and I'll have the next file ready when you return."

So I took a walk around Homicide as ordered.

The detectives had separate offices for each priority case. Each office was similar to ours, except for a huge situation board filled with information on that particular case. I did not enter the offices. I had my own work to do and did not want to interfere in their current cases.

I discovered that Homicide had a separate entrance that led to the side of the precinct. Poking my head out of the door, I confirmed the separate parking area for the detective's vehicles.

Two detectives entered the doors and gave my uniform a hard stare. I made a note to dress appropriately in future and hurried back to our office before someone complained that I was not working.

With excitement, or was it nervousness, I took the next file.

It was the tragic drowning of a little girl in a bath.

The mother claimed she had left the child for a minute to fetch some soap and found the child drowned in the tub seconds later. The mother tried resuscitation, but to no avail.

The emergency technicians responding to the call, as well as the coroner's report could find no evidence of foul play. The file had not been closed as no formal inquest had been held yet.

I quickly paged to the photograph of the victim. I looked up to check that the door was closed. Tucker was going through files, sorting them into piles.

I braced myself and took the plunge back into 'time'.

Tucker was once again correct.

Children were always personal.

This was personal, and Sensaii did not interfere, allowing me to see and experienced through the little girl . . .

I was fascinated by the bubbles in the water and wanted to reach for them.

I stretched over the bath to trap the biggest bubble.

No, still too short. Let's use the potty.

There, now I can reach.

Suddenly I tip over.

A crash against my head.

Can't breathe.

I left my tiny body as my need for air increased.

I looked at it once and then shot up at startling speed . . .

The vision was over almost as soon as it started.

I was shocked.

Tucker's voice, gently calling my name, brought me back to his attention.

"What happened?" I asked him.

Tucker looked uncomfortable for a while, not being a man of many words and now suddenly placed in a position as liaison between me and the common man.

He plunged in bravely as he usually does with everything else – feet first.

"You touched the photograph and your face went blank. A few seconds later a light shudder passed through your body and anyone would have been able to tell that you were shocked with whatever you saw, or experienced, or what the heck else you do when you go away like that. It's downright scary!"

I shrugged, not wanting to enter into any details on this one. I took a bite from another dough cake before I answered him.

"The mother was not to blame. A silly, tragic accident caused by a pretty bubble and gravity."

Tucker was as stunned as me regarding the vision, but dutifully made a note that the mother was not criminally negligent and will have to live with herself for the rest of her life.

We continued in this way the rest of the day.

I had a crash course in controlling my own emotions, to be professional and not to get personally involved.

Tucker took notes, made recommendations and gave suggestions as to new avenues to investigate.

By evening, Racewater came to the office again.

"Well, your leads are panning out already. Great job guys.

Tucker, take Han home, he looks bushed."

"Yes. He is unconscious on his feet already" Tucker remarked.

Tucker had to help me to his car and I fell into a deep sleep as soon as I hit the back seat.

Tucker's voice was comforting when he woke me.

"Time to wake up. I'm strong, but I'm not carrying you three flights of stairs."

I managed to reach my apartment on my own steam and tumbled into bed, not even bothering to undress or eat.

I woke up with a raw, dry throat and a hell of a headache.

Something had woken me.

I was not sure what.

I lay there listening, battling to open my eyes.

Everything seemed quiet.

Too quiet.

I willed an eye open.

Daylight was filtering through an opening in the curtain.

When did I leave it open?

Yesterday?

Yesterday was a very long way away.

It was still extremely quiet.

It was day, so shouldn't I at least hear some birds?

Tucker stormed into the room.

He was moving his mouth, but I did not hear a word.

I frowned uncomprehendingly at him. What was the man doing? He placed a cool hand on my forehead.

I watched him going to the bathroom and return with a glass of water.

He held my head and helped me sip some.

The burning, dry sensation eased and hearing returned as if through a tunnel.

"Han, stay with me. You're feverish. We need to cool you down."

Yes, I felt hot and a cool shower would probably work.

Tucker helped me out of bed and together we made it to the bathroom.

I felt as weak as a baby and was unable to undress myself, so Tucker had to help.

He seemed unhindered by my nakedness as he shoved me under the water, adjusting the temperature so that the water was comfortably cool.

I sat down, allowing the water to cool my body.

It seemed to wash some of the fatigue away, enabling me to try and analyze the problem.

"I think I overdid it yesterday and I did not have dinner either."

It was said more to myself than to Tucker, coming out as a croak.

There was concern written on Tucker's wrinkled old face. I was positive he had lost more hair since yesterday too.

Smiling confidently up at him, I asked him to make us some coffee.

"I became worried when you didn't answer your comm device and your door" he told me. "I'll see to that coffee now. Oh, and by the way, your door was unlocked."

He left me in peace to ponder the new saga in my life.

What had happened last night?

I remember slamming the door behind me. I do not remember leaving it unlocked.

I remember falling into, or rather, onto my bed.

What then?

Dreams?

No.

Spirit plane?

I think so.

I could vaguely recall my spirit slipping out of my body. Then rows of pillars appeared.

Yes, I remember!

I had been there before. Those were the halls where I had met Sensaii, the Databank/Library where I and others of my awareness could browse for knowledge.

I was sure that I had obtained or 'downloaded' information.

But what?

I had no recollection of the content. It felt as if someone had just given me important information during a conversation but I cannot recall what exactly it was.

I must have been summoned to the Halls of Knowledge by Sensaii.

A great help he turned out to be. You work your butt off in the daytime and then you still have to study at night!

When are you supposed to rest?

*Whenever you can.*

I had not meant it as a question, but Sensaii gave the answer anyway.

I had sensed him since waking, but had tried to ignore him. There is only so much you can handle while feeling hung over.

*Why am I feeling so ill?* I finally asked him.

*It is your body's response to the strain placed on it by the extra sensory input you are receiving.*

This information only served to confirm my suspicions of last night.

*I always thought that the body and the spirit planes were totally separate* I thought at the spirit entity.

*While you are attached to an active, living body, the body cannot be separated from the spiritual experience. With practice, the body can ultimately become one huge receiver of energy particles, or, to put it in a different way, a psychic receiver. When trained properly, you can use it as a transmitter too.*

The shock of ice-cold water assaulting my body blew the last cobwebs from my brain.

No more hot water!

I washed and dried quickly. Then dressed, still shivering, as fast as I could in civilian garb.

I ignored Sensaii's further attempts for my attention. He probably had more lessons, but first things first.

Breakfast!

##  Chapter Five

On our way over to the Dungeon, Tucker commented, totally oblivious of my experience of the previous night "You should take things more slowly. You still have dark rings under your eyes and you are looking downright sick. Even after all that food you packed away.

I've also been thinking about yesterday. I'm going to time you when you have a vision. We'll work out what your limit is and spare ourselves the embarrassment of having to drag a dead body out of the office every night."

"Do you think I'm going to be stuck in the office all the time? I would really hate that."

"I think it is only going to be an initial process, until the Captain can figure out exactly what he can use you for.

Racewater made such a comment this morning. Apparently, the Captain was inquiring from other cities for what, and how, they use their people that have your type of talents.

Under the pretence of trying to find someone like you, of course! He'll never let anyone on to what he has here."

"So I'm really only an asset and not my own person." It still made me upset that anyone could be considered 'property'.

"Don't worry Han. We'll look after you really well. The Captain too. He knows that the Government wants to know about all of you. He'll keep it quiet as long as he can. Simply fly under the radar as you've done so far and we'll all be okay."

I relaxed back into the seat and stared out of the window, thinking about Creata's Planetary Government policy upon people like me.

For the last few generations, people with my skills have been born on a regular basis. We are called psychic, telepaths or super-skilled persons.

For the last decade or so, anyone presenting with any unusual gifts in this line had to be registered and eventually tested by the Government.

These people were used as the new first line of defence against crime, corruption and anything else 'They' did not like.

How easy it was to get the Psychic in. Let him or her examine the crime-scene or situation. Let them tune in to see what had happened or what can happen.

Then the psychic gives the description and/or location of the perpetrator or event and the law Enforcement agencies go into action. Get warrants, pick the perpetrator/s up; match DNA or evidence and case closed.

Quick, easy, accurate.

And the cost to the psychic?

It depended on training and resilience. Those trained to correctly suppress the violence last for a while. Others do not even finish the first stages of training. And then there are the excellent ones that seemingly go on forever.

Until now, I've managed to avoid the Government.

The Dungeon seemed a lot busier than yesterday. Some of the Detectives greeted Tucker, but they all avoided contact with me. It was an uncomfortable situation and I was relieved when we reached our office.

I looked at the files Tucker had sorted and stacked yesterday.

"It's in order of importance" he answered my unspoken question. "You did quite a chunk yesterday and if we get it right, we should finish everything by the end of the week."

Considering it being two full working days, including today, I guess I did not do too bad yesterday.

Tucker came prepared with a box of dough cakes and some extra slabs of chocolate. Strong, sweet coffee seemed to help quite a bit as well against the constant fatigue I was experiencing.

It was already mid-morning and we had worked through quite a few files by the time Racewater trudged into our office. From his rumpled clothes, I presumed he did not get any sleep last night.

Good, now I did not feel so alone.

"I do not know how you did it, but we've been putting ants to shame following up on all your notes. So far, you have a hundred percent accuracy rate.

The other detectives both hate and love you at the same time. Their arrest numbers are skyrocketing, but I'm having them pulling double shifts to keep up. I'm off to bed now and will pick up more files this evening. Thanks guys."

Tucker smiled at me. As Racewater left, we returned to business.

Tucker had been timing my visions or 'out' periods and also monitored what triggers and responses I had.

I usually did not stay 'out' of it for more that thirty to sixty seconds physically, or real-time, as I came to see it. The vision-experience time varies from approximately ten minutes before the event to immediately after the person's spirit left the body.

It was becoming easier to do this.

I was growing in professional detachment, but sometimes still messed up with the emotional, especially where children and women were concerned.

So far I mostly saw or experienced the event from the victim's perspective. Sometimes I see the event as a black and white film without sound where certain evidence would 'highlight' itself.

I picked up the next file.

As I have been doing since yesterday, I quickly scanned through the basic information on the file and then went straight for the photographs.

Touching the photo, no expectant vision came.

I looked up.

My confusion must have shown clearly on my face.

Tucker was observing me closely with a frown on his forehead.

The man from the photo was actually standing behind Tucker – and he was speaking to me!

"I've decided to stick with my folder until I get someone who could actually help me" the spirit told me.

I held up my hand, signalling Tucker not to interrupt. His face went from concern to understanding.

"You can see me, can't you?" the spirit inquired.

Well, what do you tell a spirit?

Thank goodness Tucker understood.

"Yes, how can I help you?" I answered, thinking that this perceived one-sided conversation would definitely not be appreciated by others.

"By bringing my killer to justice" the spirit emphasised this statement by pounding his 'fist' into his hand.

"Do you know who had killed you?" I enquired from the spirit.

"No, of course not! I was hit from behind, did you not read the coroner's report?"

I started to dislike this entity.

"Do you have any suggestions as who it could have been that had killed you?"

"I had so many enemies. I could give you a list that would keep you busy the whole day with writing it down" the spirit boasted.

"Any suggestions as to the worst enemies that would go onto the list?" I encouraged, trying to drag at least some clues out of him.

"Only about ten of them" he replied.

"That's not going to help much."

I turned to Tucker. "Tuck, do you think we can have a look at this particular crime-scene?"

"That was unbelievably weird" Tucker remarked before realizing that I had asked a question.

"Yes" he responded, getting himself under control. "Hand me that file and I'll drive you there straight away. I would also appreciate it if you could enlighten me as to what had been said in that one-sided conversation? You better not pull such a stunt in front of anyone else. They'll surely put you in the loony bin."

"I know" I replied.

I filled him in on the missing part of the conversation on our way over to the address on the crime report.

The housing development our crime-scene was situated in was one of the most sought after middle-class neighbourhoods in New Haven.

It ran parallel to the WE1 Highway, taking it out of the rush of the inner city, but still being accessible within minutes to every corner of necessity. The house itself was on the corner of Winding- and Weld Streets.

This particular house was situated in the middle of the spacious, open property with lawns sprawling to every side. There were only fences on the sides of the property flanking the neighbouring houses, leaving the front yard exposed and accessible to anyone who whished to enter.

At first glance it looked like a normal, liveable, single storey family house.

Homicide tape was still sealing the door.

Tucker broke it and found the door unlocked.

Our new acquaintance calmly followed our every move, seeming quite intrigued by what might happen next.

Sensaii made his appearance on demand, but my new friend did not seem to notice him.

*What would be the best way to proceed?* I wanted to know from Sensaii. *I cannot see anything that would trigger an immediate vision.*

*Try the dried blood in the middle of the floor* Sensaii suggested.

Not wanting to take any chances in case I was swept away and fell over or something, I sat down next to the large brown stain in the middle of the lounge.

Upon touching the stain, I was indeed swept to this room immediately after the murder had happened . . .

A man wearing a ski-mask was bending over the body. The hardball bat he held was broken and bloodied. He wrapped the bat in plastic. I followed him as he rummaged through the house with gloved hands. He took disks from the study, turned around and calmly walked out of the door.

I had to follow, as he was my only lead. Briefly glancing back at the body, I followed the man outside.

A block away, the man entered a vehicle. I took note of the make, model and identification number of the vehicle.

The man took off his mask.

I was plunged back into my own body . . .

I found myself lying curled up in a ball next to the pool of dried blood.

I felt nauseous and, as awareness and memory returned, I started to struggle to stand up.

My body did not respond.

Tucker's strong arms encircled me, helping me up as I croaked "toilet".

We made it in time for me to release the nausea into the appropriate container.

I sat down weakly on the floor as the spasms wore off, resting my head on my knees.

Finally, when the world stopped spinning, I was able to look up at Tucker.

He and the spirit were eagerly awaiting a reply. I suddenly found myself in a huge pickle.

The Low-life standing in front of me had ruined lives as far as he went and now he demanded justice!?

Sensaii had already indicated that it was up to me to make my own decisions.

What I had to do would be on my conscience.

"How long was I gone?" I asked Tucker.

"About two, maybe three minutes. Do you want to share?"

"No, not right away. There are too many things to sort out. Please take me home. I feel horrible."

Tucker did not make any comments, but he looked greatly concerned.

He took me home and even climbed the stairs with me – the elevator still being out of order.

He left me at the door.

"I'll call you later to see how you are doing" he said.

The Low-life was no-where in sight.

I thought back along my short term memory and saw him staying in the vehicle, faithfully guarding his file.

After freshening up, I briefly stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror before walking through to the kitchen.

It was disconcerting seeing myself losing weight overnight, this, despite the volumes of food I was consuming. I fixed myself a nourishing shake before sitting down on my bed to have a heart to heart with Sensaii.

*First, explain to me why the Low-life did not see you* I asked him.

*I vibrate at a much higher frequency than those passed over. Their vibrations are but slightly higher than physical bodies until they move on to the other planes of existence.*

*Then how is it possible for me to be able to perceive both of you at the same time?*

*You are a medium. That is one of your specialities. You can switch between vibrations simultaneously. With practice, you will be able to switch between timelines just as easily – without the effort it requires from you right now.*

*What do mean by 'switch'?*

*You have the potential to consciously experience many places or dimensions at the same moment. Currently, you are doing it sub-consciously. With training, you would be able to do it consciously.*

That information was a bit tough to swallow, so I moved on.

*Do other psychics have guides too? Are they able to see and communicate with them like we do?*

*All entities on this Planet have a Divine Support System* Sensaii explained. *Each individual is usually escorted through life by two specially appointed and trained spirit helpers. You always have a permanent Guardian watching over you, making sure no unauthorized harm comes to your body. The other is usually a guide, or guides, similar to me.

And no, most entities, including psychics, are not aware of us. Those physical entities called mediums, vibrate at a higher level than most people and are able to pick up on our vibrations or even see us.

Sometimes, with special assignments, we have to bring our vibrations down in order for physical entities to see us.

Passed over people with Knowledge of the Higher Worlds, or Other Side, as you simply refer to it, have the advantage to be able to choose where they want to go. They can 'appear' to their loved ones before they finally go home, or they can come and visit from time to time, if they so wish. It is really their choice.*

This made sense. I've always heard about people talking about spirit Guardians saving their lives. A common occurrence is vehicle keys disappearing, making a person late for appointments, in the process avoiding other disasters. Or people had a feeling or compulsion not to go somewhere, only to find out later that this feeling or compulsion had saved their lives.

*Then, if I really wanted to, could I see other people's guides and Guardians too?* I asked Sensaii.

*Yes, but for now you will be prevented of doing so. You first need to concentrate on getting the basics of your gifts under control.*

I understood. I would be able to see them only when I needed to, and the rest I would not be able to pick up on. I guess it made sense.

*Did you follow me on my last vision? Did you see as I saw, or how does it work? Do you know what I know now?* I really needed to know how deep the connection with Sensaii ran.

*Until you break the link, I know everything of you, everything you know, every emotion and thought, every experience. Everything.*

His answer left me slightly uncomfortable not to have any privacy at all.

*Therefore, I cannot hide anything from you, can I?*

*Unfortunately not* he smiled at me.

*You know how I feel right now. How must I proceed with a clear conscience in this case of the Low-life? Must I be a Security Force man and do my job? Or must I be the judge and jury and just let it go?*

*That, fortunately, is not for me to decide. It is up to you to do whatever you think best. I may only give advice and guidance with the spirit things. I am not allowed to make your decisions for you where it comes to your own conscience.*

*Great. Thanks*.

I resigned myself to this information and went to sleep for a few hours.

##  Chapter Six

I actually slept, dreamless, and felt much better when I woke late afternoon.

The sun was starting to settle down behind the city, enveloping my room in a red and orange glow. I freshened up and went to the guest room which doubled as my meditation room. After closing the door and the curtains, I lit some candles and incense.

Settling cross-legged on the carpet in a meditative pose, I faced my newest problem.

Since I can remember, I have always been able to visit the Universal recordings for Creata. Sensaii called it the Halls of Records or Recording Halls.

For me, it represented a space somewhat like a library or a computer memory bank. Here, all the actual events happening on this Planet, and life-memories of all individuals with a higher intelligence, were recorded and stored.

One needed authorization to access this information. Authorization was given to you as your spiritual evolvement progressed.

I had learnt about this from the private Psychic teacher Zane. At least I had paid attention to that part of his teachings, finding it fascinating that I have always been able to access this Recorded Information System when I was looking for information on whatever I needed.

I could also access my own records if I needed to see a happening or event in depth. It was as if I was within a movie, but only a spectator, nothing could be altered and I had a chance to see the happenings around me that I had missed the first time round.

I could consciously access my own life-memories any time I wished.

Lately, I was allowed to directly access passed over person's life-memories by way of touching something that presented their life-essence as recently experienced, or so I figured, anyway.

I was apprehensive that I would not be allowed to access a living, breathing person's memory record.

I wondered if it would help if I knew this person? That I've actually touched him physically before?

Sensaii shrugged. He was not much help either.

I relaxed body and mind.

Shortly I felt my flesh starting to go numb, followed by the tug of my spirit leaving my body.

I concentrated on reaching the personal section of the Recording Halls.

Keeping the memory of the person I needed, as well as the event I wanted to reach, foremost in my mind, I was pulled along what looked like corridors with hundreds of doors in them.

These doors represent the individual's Archives. It felt as if I had walked for ages before I found a door that felt right.

It had a soft golden glow around it.

Touching the door, I felt the person I was looking for.

I turned the handle.

The door was unlocked.

I had authorisation to step into the life-memories of Detective David Stone . . .

I was Detective Stone.

Consumed with hate and rage, I drove to the Low-life's place.

Sneaking up the porch stairs, I entered through the unlocked back door. He was sitting on his couch, watching home movies as if nothing could harm him.

As I lifted my granddad's bat, I reflected that the whole world would be better off without this rogue lord.

He was one of the most wanted men in New Haven. He was one of the biggest crime lords on Creata.

But no longer.

I swung the bat.

It shattered.

I knew he was dead before his corpse hit the floor.

I carefully wrapped the bat in the bag I had brought.

I kept my mask over my face, in case they got a psychic out to see what had happened.

My gloved hands quickly found the evidence of my daughter's unfortunate escapades.

I made sure there were no back-ups. The Universe knew it was not her fault for falling for this piece of scum.

I should have done so many things differently, but I had not.

I was consumed with guilt.

It was all my fault.

I quietly left the way I came in.

I had parked the car a block away and only when I was safely on my way, did I dare to take the mask off.

I went straight home where I stashed the evidence in the extra trench I had dug in the open foundation for the patio at the back of the house. I covered it with dirt and tamped it fast.

I made sure there were no blood splatters on any of my clothes or in the car. I must say, I had done an excellent job. One blow and not a lot of projecting fluids.

After cleaning myself up, I went to the hospital where my baby was in ICU, hanging on by a thread.

Taking her hand in mine, I rested my head on the bed.

Overdose they said.

Murder I say.

Tomorrow will bring its own troubles.

I'm on standby tonight, and will probably be called out to my own case.

How ironic.

The door to David Stone's memories opened and the light from the passage disrupted the recording.

I was aware of not being Stone anymore and saw Sensaii beckoning to me urgently.

I left Stone's memories and Sensaii hurried me back along the corridors with startling speed.

I landed back in my body with a start, hearing the urgent knocking on the door.

Managing to open an eye, only darkness greeted me.

The candles were out.

I must have been gone a considerable amount of time.

The now familiar headache and dry mouth did not bother me so much, but I experienced trouble getting my body going again.

Tucker gently opened the door to my meditation room as I struggled from the floor.

My body felt cold and stiff.

He switched on the light and came over to help me.

"Where have you been?" he asked. "You are cold as ice. We should warm you up."

For the second time, he helped me to the bathroom like an attentive father and made me stand under the shower, increasing the hot water slowly. He helped me rub my hands and feet to speed up the circulation.

It was beginning to feel second nature to be pushed into a shower by Tucker. I really appreciated the old man's help.

He was also not a chatty person and did not ask a lot of questions. He accepted a lot of things he could not explain. It took a great man to go entirely on faith.

"Why do you help me, Tuck?"

"I'm responsible for your wellbeing. It is my duty. And my honour. I think it makes me feel wanted again. You know I have nothing except the job, and you certainly need the help. The way you are carrying on, I'm starting to think about moving in with you."

He laughed his big, belly shaking laugh. It was good to see him laughing. It made me want to laugh, too. I smiled back at him.

"I'm pretty much thawed out. You think you can order in some food. I've finished what I had left in the apartment when I came home yesterday."

Tucker left to order food and, I hoped, to make some coffee. I dried and dressed and had a quick peek in the mirror.

I did look better. There was some colour back in my cheeks and most of the blue under my eyes was gone, as well as the puffiness. Maybe I'm getting the hang of this 'vision' thing now. I surely hoped so. It was really hard work, mentally and physically.

I smelt coffee before I reached the kitchen.

Tucker presented me with a huge mug as I sat down at the table.

"The Flatbread place was the only one still open. We'll pick it up on our way" he said while I drained the coffee and gave him an inquiring look.

"We were summoned by the Captain to an address on Upper Hill. It sounded pretty desperate and I said we're on our way, I just had to pick you up first. I tried phoning, but I see that your communicator is on silent."

He handed me my comm and I stashed it in its holder at my belt.

"You also make a habit of not locking your door. I hammered a few times and then simply walked in. I'm glad I did. Are you going to tell me where you went in that meditation, or must I rather mind my own business?"

Well, for a man with few words that certainly was a lot.

"I'll tell you on the way, after the food" I answered him.

Three Flatbreads later and I was starting to feel really mellow and happy again. I knew Tucker was waiting for an answer and, as I did not want to reveal the whole truth, I decided to compromise.

"Our little Low-life was actually the crime-lord known as Blitz" I announced.

Tucker whistled. "Do you have any proof?"

"Of course not! You know how this works. I can only tell you what I saw. It is up to others to follow the leads and do the investigations. I can also not tell who had killed him as he did not see anything before his death."

The lie came out sounding part of the conversation and I hoped that Tucker would not pick up on it.

"Okay. I'll take your word for it, but I know that you are not telling me everything. I'm sure you are being prevented from giving me everything by some higher force or something and I'll adhere to that. I'll put it down that even you guys have your limits."

And here I thought I was the psychic!

Lots of people knew things, they were simply too indoctrinated or scared to allow their talents to grow. It probably was a good thing. We did not want criminals to be able to know things in advance. That would really be looking for trouble.

Or are there some of my kind who have already turned to the darker paths?

I put the thought out of my mind. Let me concentrate first now on training myself in these new things. Time to worry about darker things when I might come across it.

We entered the Northern suburbs that stretched up into the mountains. This was prime property and only the richest people could afford to live here. About halfway up Upper Hill we turned into a massive driveway.

A huge, old building was nestled snugly into the mountainside. Half of it was exposed, the other half was dug into the mountain itself. It did not look like a friendly place, but the grounds were kept impeccably neat and I expected the house to be the same.

There were two vehicles already parked in the driveway. I recognized the Captain's vehicle as one of them.

Tucker's voice cut through my thoughts.

"That is the vehicle that Skinner uses. He's with Missing Persons."

It was already in the early hours of the morning. This was not a good time to be missing a person.

We were met at the door by Captain Truman. Looking past the Captain, I could see a middle-aged couple in the lounge with Skinner.

"The ransom note was delivered yesterday" Captain Truman informed us. "The Partry's sorted the funds out today and were promised their daughter back by nightfall. The ransom was paid, but their daughter is still not home, nor have we received any information as to her whereabouts. Steve only contacted me after midnight.

He is a personal friend of mine and little Georgia is my god-child. Please Han, if there is anything you can do for us. I would like to handle this as quietly as possible."

This was serious. The Captain was actually begging me and he never used first names.

"Where's her room?" I wanted to know.

"Come." He led us to an upstairs bedroom.

Tucker requested the Captain to wait downstairs. "We'll come down as soon as we're done."

It was a typical little girl's room with loads of soft toys and dolls. Pink and white frills decorated the fairy world of this child.

Looking around for a catalyst, I decided on her pillow. It was unwashed and still had her smell on it. It was ideal.

Tucker stood guard with his back to the closed door, effectively blocking any unwanted entry.

"Please, whatever happens, let me finish in my own time" I advised.

Tucker nodded, looking extremely uncomfortable.

Sitting cross-legged in the middle of the carpet, hugging the pillow, I allowed my spirit to be pulled out of my body.

At first I thought that I would go to Georgia's life-memory file. Instead, I found myself hovering on a dark plane with hundreds of pinpricks of light upon it.

In my wildest dreams, I have never imagined such a place to exist.

What I was experiencing was the actual pulsating lights of entities in the city. Each light represented an entity of high intelligence. Tucker's aura was recognizable around his light essence and, as he was the nearest to me, I definitely knew it to be him.

Already having picked up on Georgia's vibration, or particle signature through her pillow, I set out seeking for it.

I shot, what felt like upwards, until I could see more auras and lights.

Resting a while at this high place, I focused all my attention on Georgia's essence, silently asking for Georgia's spiritual Guardian to help me find her.

Similarly as I perceived Sensaii enveloping my aura and light, keeping me safe from harm, I knew every person had such entities around them. I felt that Georgia's Guardian might be able to help.

Sensing a pulling sensation towards what I perceived to be the lower regions of the city, I allowed myself to be pulled down towards a handful of lights.

Totally surprised by the sudden sharp lights and noise, I blinked.

*Who are you?* A little girl's voice said inside my head.

I was sharing Georgia's body and it felt extremely cramped.

*I'm a friend of your daddy's and I'm going to send someone to take you home. Right now, I need your help to find out where you are. Okay?*

*Yes. I'll help you.*

It was amazing that the child was acceptable to what I was making her share.

Through her eyes I saw that we were in a warehouse. Everything smelt of fish, so it was definitely one of the fish packing plants. Our tiny body was not injured in any way and not restrained. We were in a small room filled with cans of fish.

Georgia was too little to have learnt to read, so I quickly scanned the labels. We took a pallet of fish to the door, struggling, for it was very heavy.

Eventually we had it at the door and clambered upon it. We barely managed to see out of the sliver of window by standing on the tips of our toes.

There were people arguing outside and we were able to hear snatches of the conversation. Some of the people were arguing that we should be returned to Georgia's parents. They've already paid the ransom and the Security Forces were not yet involved.

Some wanted to leave us here in this place, and some wanted to get rid of us. They all seemed to be waiting for someone.

I softly separated myself from the little girl. She did not want me to leave, but she already knew that I would bring help.

I hastened back to my own body . . .

I took a huge gulp of air as I settled within myself. This experience was not as draining as dealing with the actual life-memory of someone.

I opened my eyes.

Tucker rushed over and took my hands. He seemed relieved that I was not too cold and helped me up.

"She's unharmed, for now. She's in the Constant fishery packing plant. In one of the back rooms. We must hurry. They are deciding what to do with her as we speak."

Tucker hurried out to Captain Truman while I slipped out to our vehicle. The less everyone knew of me, the better.

As Tucker started the vehicle, he announced that we were to go home to wait.

"Skinner has everything under control. He has a squad standing by in every quadrant of the city and there is a squad in the vicinity of the docks already moving in."

Tucker's comm beeped as we entered my home twenty minutes later.

After a short conversation, Tuck enlightened me.

"Captain said they found her and made some arrests. They also recovered the ransom. A great night's work, don't you think?"

I merely shrugged. I was feeling drained all of a sudden. It was almost time for normal people to go to work, but I did not think we would be missed too much at work today.

"I'll crash on your couch if you do not mind" Tucker told me. "It seems such a waste going home, just to come out here again in a few hours."

I did not bother to reply, going straight through to my room. I only managed to take my shirt off before falling into bed.

I was asleep almost immediately.

##  Chapter Seven

I was standing on the edge of a cliff. A huge valley opened at my feet. Desert surrounded me on all sides. I felt utterly alone. There was a high wind and it was picking up. I tried to resist but a gust caught me and ripped me over the edge.

I was falling.

I kept on falling.

I could not see the bottom of the cliff.

There was no bottom. Only yellow and red and black . . .

I woke up screaming!

Every inch of my body was on fire.

Every nerve-ending was working overtime.

I could not tolerate the touch of the light cover over me.

I kicked it off.

I could not bear the cool air against my exposed skin.

Tucker stormed into the room.

"Please do not touch me! It hurts! Oh Universe it hurts!"

Explosions behind my eyes!

Explosions inside my head!

Daggers across my body!

I could take it no longer.

I passed out.

I woke to a cool hand on my head and a feminine voice in my ears.

Lying perfectly still, I sent my consciousness across my body. The pain had subsided to a dull ache. My head felt as if it was split in two.

I did not want to open my eyes just yet.

Some cool liquid was trickled onto my tongue.

I swallowed.

It was sweet and also salty.

Electrolytes, my brain told me.

"He's swallowing on his own now. I think he's back with us" the feminine voice said.

I picked up a hint of flowers.

"Han?" it was Tucker's voice.

I was not yet ready to join the living.

I allowed myself to go again and slipped back into the dark comfort of unconsciousness.

I was standing on the edge of a cliff. A huge valley opened at my feet. Desert surrounded me on all sides. I felt utterly alone.

Stop it!

I was not sure if I shouted it aloud, but I woke up fighting.

My heart was racing as comprehension returned to me.

Tucker was sitting next to me, holding my arms to my sides.

A nurse in uniform was standing beside the bed.

Tucker's voice soothed me.

"Han. It's okay. You had an extremely high fever.

This is a friend. She's going to give you an injection for the pain. It is going to make you a bit groggy but you are going to be just fine."

The nurse smiled reassuringly at me and slipped a needle into my arm. Heat spread out from the injection site and quickly raced around my stressed body.

As my body started relaxing, Tucker released me.

I tried to control my breathing.

My nerves felt raw and naked. There was still a dull ache throughout my body and my head still felt like a pudding.

I was glad to have people around me.

The nurse brought a cup to my lips.

"Drink some, your body is dehydrated and we could not get an IV drip without creating suspicion."

I drank all of the electrolytes, gagging a bit with the last swallow.

I was starting to feel better but did not want to close my eyes again. There was no pain with the light streaming in through the open part of the curtain.

I realized it was day already. The angle of the sun made it somewhere around mid day. Was I out for so long?

*Sensaii? Are you near?*

*Always.*

*What is happening to me?*

*Overload on your body, I'm afraid. You've done too much, too soon, without any proper preparation.*

*And you could not warn me?*

*Crash course. Sorry.*

*Crash course my buttocks. Why?*

There was a silence from him before he answered. I knew he was avoiding the question.

*Everything will be easier now* he stated, soothingly.

He had managed to change the subject successfully.

*Easier how?* I wanted to know from him.

*Your body has been opened up as a whole receptor. You will find your work easier and less tiring within a day or two. You'll be able to slip out and back between visions without much effort. Heal for the next day before you do anything else.*

*What about this dream I'm having?*

*It is your dream. You can tell it to change.*

I was sure Tucker could read the conversation by my facial expressions.

"You're really going to be okay for now?" he wanted to know.

"I was assured of it. I'll be my boisterous self in a day or so, and I apparently need some rest. How, I really do not know."

The pretty nurse spoke up "I can give you a sedative if you like. It should knock you out for about twelve hours. Would that help?"

*Sensaii?* I asked.

*Great idea!* he commented.

"Okay. Let's do that."

I relaxed my body and once again, the nurse injected me.

This time, it was a cold sensation that crept through my body.

"Thank you Julie, for all your help" I heard Tucker say as I drifted away on the drugs.

I was woken up by a low, droning sound.

It was unknown to me and I lay listening to it.

Eventually opening my eyes, I saw Tucker snoring in the chair in the corner of my room.

It was dark outside.

I carefully lifted my head. The alarm next to me read 01h01.

There was still a dull ache between my eyebrows and at the base of my skull.

I tested the rest of my body. Every part seemed to respond to the correct signals. I felt cool, but starving.

Slipping out of bed, I had to sit on the edge for a while to stave off the waves of nausea and dizziness.

Tucker was still sleeping. He had had a difficult time with me and I did not want to disturb him.

As I stood up, I realized that I was still in agony.

My body was now responding as if all circulation had been cut off for a long time. Pins and needles were assailing me from my toes to my scalp. With every step, new pain shot to my head.

By the time I reached the bedroom door I was drenched in sweat and ready to collapse. Somehow I knew that the more I moved now, the sooner this would be over. Clenching my teeth, I made it to the kitchen.

Tucker had restocked the kitchen while I was a loss to all worlds. I managed to make a protein shake without spilling too much, feeling better almost instantly after consuming the disgusting lot.

I struggled to my meditation room and started on some slow stretching exercises. Little by little, the pain in my body started to subside. The dull throb in my head persisted. The droning sound was becoming louder and was extremely irritating.

I heard the front door open. I smelt Julie's perfume and stepped to the door in order for her to see me.

She was closing the door carefully behind her. The noise felt like thunder in my head and I winched.

She turned around, surprised to see me.

"What are you doing up?" she rushed over to me and placed her hand on my forehead.

"The fever is gone, but you are soaked through! Sit here so I can check your vitals" she indicated the couch.

It was a long way off, but as I started over, my body responded well enough.

She checked my temperature, which was slightly below normal, making a attractive brown eyebrow rise slightly.

She checked respiration and heart-rate, which was slower than normal, resulting in another raised eyebrow.

She checked blood pressure, again very low.

"Are you sure you are not dying on me?" she asked.

"I'm feeling much better. Thank you for all your help. If you are looking for Tucker, he's snoring in the bedroom."

"Poor Uncle Tuck. He really has a soft spot for you, you know. He did not sleep a wink until I told him that you would be unconscious for at least twelve hours."

"Did he say anything to you regarding why he's helping me in this way?" I wanted to know from her.

"I think he wants to keep you safe. I just came by to see if you both were feeling better, before my next shift starts."

"You looked somewhat surprised at my recovery?"

"Not really. You present some of the same symptoms we see in the younger psychics. I've never come across these symptoms so radically accentuated and all at once."

"You have dealings with people like me?"

"Of course. Oh! I see. Uncle Tuck does not speak of it, does he?

He had a son like you. Patrick was taken away by the Government when he was ten years old. His parents were allowed to visit him regularly, but he was not allowed out of the compound. He later went into a Government project program, but was killed in the line of duty.

Uncle Tuck was devastated. He ranted about giving his life for his Planet and getting repaid for his service by his family being taken away from him. Anyway, his wife died shortly after Patrick's cremation.

I was always focusing on nursing and thought it a great way of infiltrating these facilities. Our movement has been helping people like you disappear with fake deaths, insanity, etc. for a very long time."

"My symptoms? You said I presented some of what you have come across?"

"The fever is common in young psychics learning to use their abilities. This usually presents in a raised temperature for a prolonged time. Not an extremely high temperature for a short spell, as with you.

Body pain and discomfort, again over an extended time period. Headaches, especially at the base of the scull and between the eyebrows, nothing intense, simply a constant ache.

Disorientation, hallucination, out of body experiences. All of these are present."

Then this was the way I was coming into my skills, all at once, not over a period of time as with regular psychics that started learning control over their skills from the age of ten.

"And a constant droning noise?" I wanted to know.

"No, I've never came across that."

"How does the Government train psychics?"

"That, I'm not sure of. I'm only a nurse helping these people as best I can to make their bodies more comfortable. That is why I knew exactly what and how much to give you to help you through your discomfort.

Although, I had to up some of your dosages quite a bit. We took a gamble and it seemed to have paid off."

"What exactly does the Government use psychics for?"

"Whatever they wish to, I guess. They are considered extremely valuable property. I overheard recently that they've actually started a breeding facility for psychic skills. Is that not disgusting?"

"Do you know what people like me can do?"

"I've seen some of your kind in action. Especially when they come in stressed and all mixed up.

You have powers beyond comprehension. Some of you can move objects by looking at it. Or walk through walls. Or throw people across rooms. I've seen what people like you can do when not treated with respect and dignity. May I ask what you specialize in?"

"This is quite new to me and I'm still learning. I see things."

"Like visions?"

"I think so. Sometimes I have premonitions. Sometimes I can see what dead people saw. Sometimes I can find missing people. Sometimes I see dead people and even communicate with them."

"This is the first time I hear of such a thing. You must be really special."

"I do not think so. There are others like me, doing the same things I do. Tucker said that that is how the Captain received the idea of putting me on the missing person's case."

"Then you must fall in the semi-private category. There the Governing body of the local city would have responsibility over you."

"Thanks, you just referred to me as property again."

"Sorry. I tend to think in categories."

I changed the subject.

She was really pretty with soft, brown eyes and an open, honest face. She was a typical nurse type, although a bit on the petite side.

"So, on a scale from one to ten, where do you put me in the category of having a chance to date you?"

"Please! I do not date strangers. I never date psychics. And besides, I do have a boyfriend, if you have to know."

Wow, speak of rebuke. I probably scored a zero due to the fact that I'm still considered 'property of State'.

I was extremely relieved when Tucker walked into the room, beaming a huge smile at us.

Julie jumped up, gave her Uncle a fond embrace, winked at me and dashed out the door.

Tucker came over and offered his hand to help me up.

Unexpectedly, I was Tucker . . .

Captain Truman gave me first pick of a rookie. There were five files open on his desk.

I was drawn to the handsome boy in the middle. He had haunting eyes, like Patrick used to have, with a fair skin and dark hair. It made for a dashing contrast.

His grades were good. Not exceptional, but definitely not standard. He seemed to be teachable. His temperament was described as quiet, hard working but tending to be introverted.

Han Storm. He sounded solid enough.

I broke the contact as soon as I realized what was happening.

Tucker stared at me as if I had given him an electric shock.

"What was that?" he asked.

"Trouble" I confessed. "I saw how you picked me. This is going to make things difficult if it works on other people too."

I sat back down on the couch and buried my face in my hands. I reached out to Sensaii.

*Now what?*

*At the moment your whole body is acting as a receptor.

Look around you. See with your spirit.

Do not use your physical sight. Use your real sight. See as things really are.

Not much can be hidden from you in this way. It is nothing to fear. It is growing up and being reminded of what you can do. That is all. Learn quickly. Learn how to shut it off and open it up. But learn quickly.*

*You are pressing me for time?*

No answer.

It was really infuriating sometimes to be able to communicate with entities not of the physical realm. They knew things that I did not, and they mostly did not consider me ready for the next level.

I looked up at Tucker.

He was watching me from the chair on the other side of the coffee table.

I suddenly felt exhausted and very old. It felt as if I had the whole Planet's weight on my shoulders.

I felt like crying.

It was probably only the after-effects of the drugs.

"Let me touch your arm and see if it happens again" Tucker said.

I agreed with a nod.

He placed his hand on my elbow.

Nothing happened.

I smiled at him and felt better. It must have been the contact with my fingertips, in the same way I had to touch the essence of a person with my fingertips to produce a required psychic response.

"As long as I do not touch someone with my fingers we should be fine" I told him.

"Look on the bright side. Now you can see things without having to ask people for permission. This will work really well . . . if we still . . . made arrests" he finished lamely.

Not being too discouraged, he tried to perk me up.

"Well, we'll find a job for this too. Now, to bed with you. You've stayed up long enough and I need some decent sleep too."

Movement was becoming easier and less painful and I was able to reach my own bed without help.

It was freshly made with clean sheets and all.

Thanks Uncle Tuck.

##  Chapter Eight

The delicious smell of fresh coffee and the sound of crackling bacon greeted me as I woke up. My body was feeling much better and I could tolerate the water from the shower on my skin.

Everything somehow seemed brighter than before. Much cleaner, with a glow around it, as if I was seeing in bright but diffused sunlight. Even the water had a rainbow of colours as it cascaded over me. I was showering in a rainbow.

I heard the front door open and smelt Julie's perfume.

I closed the water. No normal man should have smelt it. I stood with my back supported by the wet shower wall, placing the palms of my hands flat on the wall. Closing my eyes, I concentrated on the inevitable conversation that must follow.

It came to me, at first, as though hearing through a tunnel, then suddenly sounding normal.

"Hi. Glad to see you up so early. How's your young Mr Storm doing?" Julie asked her uncle.

"Up and about, and hopefully dressed by now. The water stopped flowing so he should join us in a few minutes. May I pour you a mug of coffee?"

I came back to myself.

I had never left. I only transported my physical senses somewhere else.

Wow! This was something I could use really well.

I dressed quickly and rushed to the kitchen, afraid to miss too much. Like a little boy with a new toy, I could not wait to start practicing. I would keep it to myself for a while until I had this new thing under control.

"Hi" Julie greeted. "You look a lot better. How does your body feel?"

Dearest Julie. She was always the nurse first. I beamed my most handsome smile at her, nodded to Tucker and dove into the food.

With all the pain I had last night, I did not make it to the kitchen for solid food. I was now beyond starving, so did not think much while eating, intent on working my way through everything set out on the table that was not on someone else's plate.

Eventually, I became aware of Tucker and Julie staring at me.

Tucker had a look of amusement on his face, Julie one of concern.

I shrugged at them, my mouth full with the last bit of bread I had dipped into the gravy at the bottom of the bacon dish.

"Now I'm starting to feel better" I told them after swallowing.

Tucker laughed out loud. "I'm glad you have your appetite back. I'll have to go do some more shopping. At this rate you are going to spend your whole pay on food only."

Thank goodness I was in a profession that paid hundred percent for housing.

"Do you feel up to some exercise?" Julie wanted to know. "We go to the park one day of the weekend. I saw a park a couple of blocks from here that looks lovely."

Julie was dressed sensibly in a summer dress and sandals. I nodded my consent and offered her my arm. She declined gracefully.

"I told you I have someone. And you are not family."

That remark stung. I felt it in my heart as surely as I saw it on Tucker's face.

He ducked around the hurt and hastened us "Come on you two. I do not want to get there when it gets crowded."

The elevator worked!

I had a sudden vision of Tucker throwing his toys out of the cot and arranging repair personnel on his personal account. It had never occurred to me that I could pay to have it fixed. And all this time I took the stairs!

I concentrated on walking those two blocks to the park. It was a slight uphill and my body really started struggling as we reached the second intersection.

Julie must have known that my body would respond this way. She kept on looking back at me.

Tucker supported me the last stretch into the park where I sat down thankfully on the nearest bench. I did not realize that my body was so weak after what had happened the last two days.

Julie went for her walk asTucker settled beside me. There was a comfortable silence between us.

Has it really been only a week since my life was tumbled upside down?

It felt as if I had lived many lifetimes within this week. If this was the hectic pace my new life asked of me, I could understand why psychics' bodies gave out so soon. It was incredibly stressful to the body, not to mention the effort to keep oneself in some representation of sanity. The replacement of energy also made a huge dent in your pocket.

*Training to start, Han* Sensaii interrupted my train of negative thoughts.

I looked at Julie.

She suddenly seemed to be alive with vibrant colour. I could see her aura. She seemed so pure and clean my throat wanted to close with unknown emotion. I consciously closed the sight. The aura disappeared but she still had a halo around her.

I knew now that this was what I concentrated on when I was looking for someone.

I steered my gaze to an old couple walking over a little bridge. I opened my newly found psychic sight and saw them enveloped in a mutual aura, mingled with a myriad of colours swirling out from them and around them. The aura was large.

I became aware of other shapes behind them and slightly in front of them. It was not part of their auras. It presented to me as shadows.

*What are those?* I thought at Sensaii.

*Guides and Guardians* the answer came.

My sight closed abruptly.

It was a shock to my system. I have always accepted the common belief that all higher entities had spirit protectors, but to see one is to change one's outlook forever.

My headache was starting up again.

*One or two more* Sensaii urged. *Concentrate on the plants*.

I looked at the flowers near us. At first I saw nothing and then, slowly, a halo of light started to became apparent around them. The light grew stronger and I started to note individual auras around each plant and then separate auras around each flower. I could not hold the sight and everything returned to normal.

My headache was getting worse.

"Can we go back now?" I asked Tucker.

He nodded and indicated to Julie that we were leaving.

Home seemed kilometers away.

We took it slowly.

At home, Tucker handed me a bottle of tablets.

"For the headaches. Julie said you will experience them if you are anywhere near like the others."

Julie did not come up to my apartment. She waited at Tucker's vehicle.

"Thanks. It was thoughtful of her. Tell her thank you from me. I really appreciate what you both have done for me." I took the bottle from him and closed the door.

After taking some tablets, I retired to my room. I desperately needed some rest if I was to face Head Quarters tomorrow.

I slept uninterrupted for most of the day, loafing a bit over a light dinner, and returned to bed after a relaxing shower.

My body was relaxed and sleep overcame me easily.

I was standing on the edge of a cliff. A huge valley opened at my feet. Desert surrounded me on all sides. I felt utterly alone. There was a high wind and it was picking up. I tried to resist but a gust caught me and ripped me over the edge.

I was falling.

I kept on falling.

I knew this was my dream and I was going to see it through to the end.

Nothing is co-incidental. Everything is on purpose.

I fell for a long time, stopping short from slamming into the grey earth.

I hovered above it for a few seconds before turning myself upright.

It seemed that I was unable to touch the ground within this dream.

Taking my bearings, I recognized New Haven's mountains. I was at one of the outlook points at the top of the mountain, facing away from the city.

Turning around, I could only stare in horror, a feeling of utter loneliness threatening to choke me.

There was absolutely nothing left of New Haven!

Grey ash lay everywhere, with here and there a shape that might have been a building.

The only thing that could have done this was an explosion of great magnitude.

Slowly, it dawned on me that I was glimpsing into the future. I had been given the opportunity to try and prevent this disaster.

Floating above the earth, I followed what was left of Upper Hill Street to what looked like the point of origin of an explosion or impact.

It was where the city sport stadium used to be.

Strangely, my psychic perceptions did not pick up on any passed over persons, although I knew I was totally opened up as a receiver.

Things might work differently in the possibilities of the future, I told myself.

Settling down on the rim of the crater that used to be the centre of the stadium, I found that I could now touch the earth.

The ash drifted up in small puffs as I slowly walked to what was left of the stands.

The ash settled on my clothes. It was sticky and I tried to brush it off.

Rubbing the ash between my fingers – I was transferred back in time . . . to become one of the spectators.

It was a great afternoon and the home team was in the lead. I looked down at my son standing next to me. This was his tenth birthday. For an instant I remembered the calendar on the wall as he crossed the days off.

Seeing his memory as clearly as the spectator did, I was shocked out of the possible life-memory.

And out of this horrible dream as well.

Soaked through with sweat, the images still swimming in my head, I grabbed the notepad next to my bed and scribbled down the date and the location of the disaster.

Going to the lounge, I retrieved my organizer, quickly scanning forward to the date in my dream.

Thirteen days!

That is all I had to prevent this disaster.

How?

My head was spinning.

Calming myself as best I could, I realized that this was exactly why I went through the accelerated expansion of my body and senses.

All this personal suffering was so I could receive this vision of a probable future for all of us.

By the time Tucker arrived to pick me up, I had worked my way through enough food to bankrupt myself. The door was unlocked and Tucker let himself in, joining me for coffee.

"Glad to see you up and about so early. Are you feeling well?" he wanted to know.

"Yes, much better, thank you. We do have a problem though."

Tucker raised an eyebrow over his mug. It must run in the family, I thought to myself, Julie raised her eyebrow in exactly the same way.

Not knowing how to soften what I had to say, I went ahead and said it. "In thirteen days this city will be gone and only ashes left - if we cannot stop the coming tragedy."

Tucker almost dropped his mug.

"You saw this?" Tucker replied with an incredulous expression on his face. Sometimes Tucker amazed me with his rhetorical questions. What did I spend the whole night doing?

"Last night I had a vision, but did not have a chance to complete it. I tried going back to sleep but unfortunately could not" I told him.

"Is there any way in which you could gain a complete vision?" he wanted to know.

"If Julie is prepared to acquire one of their psychic enhancement drugs, I think it would be possible. The way I see it, the drug will keep me under long enough to take the vision to where I need to go."

"There's more to it than just acquiring the drug, isn't there?" Tucker's concern was evident in his husky voice.

"Yes, staying in the vision too long might send me over to the Other Side, permanently. We will need someone on hand to bring my spirit back to my body."

Tucker was quiet for a moment before replying. "Okay. I'll arrange to see Julie later today, but now we have to deal with a little Low-life that's all of a sudden not so little any more."

As we entered our office, our Low-life/drug lord was still patiently waiting at his file, a smirk on his face.

"You figured out who had killed me?" he wanted to know from me.

Tucker closed the door. Seeing me concentrating on one spot, he quietly sat down at his desk.

"No" I replied. "The perpetrator wore a mask and not even I could follow him. I'm bound only to the person whose essence I'm touching."

A blatant lie, but I was not prepared to allow a good officer take a fall for such a one as this worm.

"I did see who you really are" I continued.

The smirk disappeared from our Low-life's face. It was replaced with anger.

"I also saw all you did and where you hid evidence we can use against you and your kind" I rubbed it in. "You are busted, even after death."

The spirit looked so pained and tortured that I could not help but give some advice.

"You can forgive yourself and leave to the Other Side by following the Path of Light, or you can go and wait at your body until it is claimed by your original family. They will be notified in due course."

"I have no other choice. I'll have to wait" and with those words, the spirit vanished from my perceptions.

"That was quite blunt" Tucker commented. "I guess it will allow him to think about what he had done for a long time" he chuckled.

I smiled. It definitely felt like a job well done.

While Tucker left to make arrangements with Julie, I spent the time finishing the report on our Low-life, including everything relevant I had came across in my vision, including all the hide-away places of criminal evidence. The investigators and detectives would be busy for quite a while.

Tucker returned after lunch to inform me that Julie would have everything we needed at my apartment late that afternoon. This was good news, as we had to push this urgent issue. Time was limited.

Racewater entered the office with the report I had prepared that morning.

"Do you realize how much extra work you have given me?" he glared at me.

"Yes" I stated, squaring off to him. His ungrateful attitude was starting to rub me the wrong way.

"Are you not satisfied with our efforts?" I wanted to know from him.

Racewater noticeably controlled his temper, softening his expression. "Great work. This will give us so much to go on."

He glanced from me to Tucker.

"What's up?" he inquired. "I have known Han only a week, but I can feel when something is going on."

Tucker took the lead. "We are going to conduct an experiment. Han may have a big lead on something but cannot attain any specifics. We're going to try and enhance his visions tonight."

"Would you mind if I observed?" Racewater queried, seeming genuinely interested.

Tucker glanced over at me and I nodded my approval.

He gave Racewater my address and set the time for seven that evening.

As Racewater left the office he looked back at me. "You should go home. Get some rest before your trip."

I thought it interesting that Racewater also saw my visions as going places, trips. Even though I leave my body behind, my spirit is still transported somewhere or someplace, allowing me to experience it as journeys.

At long last I had an opportunity to drive my Commoner home and was relieved when she started up at the first try. I took the shorter route behind the precinct, leading past the refuelling unit.

Stacey must have just finished refuelling her squad vehicle when I reached her. She waved me down and I stopped to hear her out.

"Where have you been? The first thing we heard was that you and your Sergeant were transferred to Homicide, special unit, and then you disappeared on us, leaving your vehicle parked all the time. What happened?"

"It's been a madhouse at Homicide and we are all pulling double shifts." Some 24/7 shifts, I thought wryly at myself. "How is your work coming on?"

"I'm fine" she replied. "It is really interesting and challenging. I'm taking extra courses in the evenings at Forensics. My Sergeant knows I want to join them, so, yes. I'm doing well.

You, on the other hand, can do with more food and rest."

"Is it that obvious?" I actually thought out loud to myself.

"Yes. You are definitely not looking after yourself. Whatever they are pushing you to do, is really getting you down. I barely recognized you. If it was not for your beaten up heap of junk, I would have thought a stranger was driving it."

"Are you pulling my leg?" I wanted to ascertain.

"No, I'm actually very serious. When last did you have a look at yourself?"

Just this morning, I thought back at her.

"I'll eventually get used to the odd hours we work" I tried to alleviate her worry. "I have to go now. See you around?"

She did not seem happy with that answer, but smiled and waved good-bye.

On my way home, I realized how much I had missed driving. It was an exhilaratingly free feeling. I did not think while driving and for a little while, I felt totally in control of my own situation. All too soon I reached my building.

After a late lunch I tried to sleep, but no sleep came. Going to my meditation room, I managed to place my body into a deeply relaxed state until Tucker showed up again with Julie and an escort.

Julie introduced the blond young man as Panam; a special friend.

Receiving the hint, I realized that this was the boyfriend. A blind person could see that Julie was extremely fond of him.

Panam had his hands full of equipment and asked where he could set up, upon which Julie took him to my bedroom.

Tucker waited for Racewater and I followed the two lovers to see what was to happen to me.

It turned out that Panam was with the local emergency response and was studying to become a full time ER doctor. He was becoming so fond of his work that he would have considered staying with emergency services if the pay was better.

Panam started to explain what was going to happen and I placed all my attention on him.

"I am going to connect you up to a heart-rate and blood-pressure monitor" he explained. "The first drug we are going to inject is a psychic enhancing drug that will help take you to where you need to go. It frees ingrained inhibitions and was developed from the ill famed truth serums.

The second injection will be used to stabilize your body and the third injection will induce sleep so your body and spirit can integrate successfully."

"Where did you learn all this?" I wanted to know.

"I used to be a doctor's aid where Julie works. I could not stand what they did to those people and left. I have gained enough medical knowledge to warn you that this is not going to be a walk in the park. Is it really so important that you are willing to risk your life?"

"I am risking it for all of us" I told them. "If I do not figure this out, none of us will be here in a few weeks."

The couple suddenly looked scared.

Panam started to connect me up to the portable monitors. He placed an IV drip in my arm, explaining that it will help the drugs circulate faster and he could administer the drugs without effort.

Lying back on my bed, I listened to the soft whisper of the monitor indicating a strong, regular heartbeat. Blood pressure was still slightly below normal.

Tucker and Racewater came into the room. It suddenly felt crowded with so many people.

Tucker settled next to me on the one side of the bed. Racewater took a seat in the chair at the window while Julie stood by my head.

Panam was ready with the first injection and asked if I was ready.

I merely nodded.

Closing my eyes, I felt the warmth of the drug pulsing in time to my heartbeat.

Suddenly, my whole body was in an icy clasp . . . and I stood on the edge of the cliff . . .

I launched myself over the cliff, more in control of my actions.

Again, it felt like falling for forever.

Once again, I stopped falling at the top of Hill Street, overlooking New Haven. Within this vision, it was night, and New Haven's lights were twinkling everywhere.

It was a most beautiful sight, until one of the lights became bigger and brighter – fast.

Placing all my attention on this light, my brain identified it as a missile.

At a height of about 200 meters the missile turned into an intense globe of light that expanded with terrible swiftness.

Everything went up in flames.

A huge wall of superheated air and deadly gasses rushed towards me, leaving little in its path.

I was not affected as the blast went right through me.

Yet again, I floated to the stadium where I started tracking the path of the deadly missile.

Shutting off my emotional response to the death and destruction all around me, I reminded myself that this was only a possibility and I was going to stop it.

Everything in life; past, present or future, leaves a trail of particles or vibrations behind.

Flying at great speed on the astral plane, I followed the vibrational track of the missile in a southerly direction.

The trail ended on one of the Islands out in the open ocean.

Keeping every psychic avenue open, I carefully approached the island.

There was activity in a ploughed field and I drifted over for a closer look.

People wearing uniforms, brandished guns of all description, were busy dismantling a missile stand with super precision and speed.

I recognized one of the men on the edge of the group as he clambered into an all terrain vehicle and took off.

This was all I needed. Origin and motive.

I allowed myself to shoot upwards, guiding myself by the pull of my own particle path to return to my own time and body . . .

"Han?"

It was Tucker's reassuring voice.

I opened my eyes but could not focus.

A warm feeling coursed through my body and I allowed myself to slip into the deep sleep as Panam promised . . .

Tucker was watching me. Racewater was sleeping in the chair next to the window. The moon was shining through the curtain, indicating that it was in the early morning hours.

"Are you with us, Han?" Tucker inquired, concern on his face and in his voice.

"Yes, but I am desperate for some coffee" I smiled. It seemed to put his mind at rest and I even managed to get out of bed by myself.

We did not disturb Racewater and snuck out to the kitchen.

My chest felt tight and bruised, but for all that had happened, I was feeling exceptionally well.

Over coffee, Tucker told me what they had experienced.

"After the first injection, your body went into spasms. It took all three of us men to restrain you. We fought you for what felt like an eternity, but Julie was timing the event and she said it was not more than 90 seconds.

You went into cardiac arrest and Panam pulled you to the floor where he started resuscitation until Julie had emptied the contents of the second injection into the drip.

We thought we lost you there for a moment as you initially did not respond to the drug. Then your heart started beating irregularly. Julie popped a tablet under your tongue and, seconds later, you gave us a regular beat.

I kept on calling you back and we were all extremely relieved when you finally opened your eyes. Panam gave you the last injection and when you were under, we placed you back on your bed.

I sent the youngsters home, but Racewater wanted to stay in case you woke up."

Racewater's charming voice drifted into the kitchen. "And now you are awake and we are all up, so could you please inform us what you have learnt?"

He took a chair opposite me and Tucker handed him a cup of coffee while I relayed my experience as accurately as I could, giving time, date, location and description.

The person I had recognized was wanted by the Planetary Security Forces on charges of terrorism. I should remember because I looked into his face on the public menace notice board every time I entered the Dungeon.

Racewater left as soon as he had finished his coffee. Tucker opted for my couch, his 'Old Bones' needing some well deserved rest.

I needed answers and went to my meditation room.

At first, I placed my head on hold and did slow, but intense stretching exercises until my shirt was soaked. After removing it, I sat down in my meditation position, physically tired but clear on what I wanted to do.

*Can you take me to the place where one can see the future possibilities?* I thought towards Sensaii.

*I will show you* he replied.

A part of me slipped out of my body. I was still actively aware of my body, but knew that I was also 'going' places at the same time.

Sensaii took me to what I perceived as a place in the Higher Worlds similar in design as the Recording Centre. I could find no recollection of how we got there. We arrived there as if with a single thought.

We went up a flight of stairs where humanoid beings, dressed in long white robes, escorted us along a golden corridor to our allocated chamber of possibilities.

Standing at the oval door, the feminine energy reminded me that I should seek the outcome for the highest good of all. She left and the Chamber sealed around us. No obvious entry could be seen. We were stuck within a golden orb.

On a pedestal in the middle of the room was a gem similar in appearance to a large red ruby. I stepped up to this gem. Having had time to think about it before coming here, I asked to be shown the possible futures of the stadium for the next thirty days.

Looking through the gem, I was allowed to see several possibilities. There were red rays connecting the different options to the jewel and I could follow each one, indicating by thought which possibility to be brought forward.

There were seven clear possibilities. As I indicated a possibility to be brought up, I was in the middle of the stadium, experiencing a holographic version of the proposed events for approximately a month.

I was simply an observer and could not touch anything or change anything. These were only possibilities.

In none of the possibilities that I followed was any sign of pending disaster.

Relief flooded my consciousness for whatever change I had instigated had worked. There would be no disaster to hit New Haven, at least not from that avenue.

Stepping away from the gem, I again felt tired and drained.

Sensaii stepped toward the door that was now available again. It opened and we walked down the corridor and back down the stairs.

Closing my eyes at the bottom of the stairs, I concentrated on finding the particle path that attached me to my body, allowing it, and Sensaii, to guide me home.

My consciousness slowly returned to my body.

It felt cold and damp and it was a downright horrible feeling.

Hearing returned to me and so did the voices beyond the door. Racewater had come back from wherever he had gone.

After forcing my eyes to open, I could see that the incense I had lit before I had started on my journey was burnt out. The candle was almost out too, indicating that I had been away for far too long.

After intense effort, I managed to get my fingers and toes to respond to my instructions. The rest of my body followed suite as I stretched before standing up.

I was so cold that I shivered and my teeth did not want to stop chattering against one another. Slipping out to my bathroom, I took a warm shower.

Feeling much better afterwards, I could face the new day. The dull ache between my eyebrows was understandable from all the travelling I had done the last few hours.

I joined Tucker and Racewater in the kitchen. None of us had a lot of rest the past twenty-four hours and we all looked frail. The sun had just risen and everything was infused with soft golden light.

Tucker handed me some sweet, strong coffee.

Racewater gave me a long, hard look before speaking.

"I have spent the rest of the night organizing warrants for searching the premises you have given us on your Kingpin, as well as informing the Planetary Security Forces regarding the location of their terrorist.

They wanted to know my source, but backed down when I reminded them of the Planetary Security Forces Confidentiality and Privileged Information Act.

Tucker knows what I want you two to do. I am going home now for a few hours' sleep and will catch up with you later. Good luck."

With that remark, he abruptly left.

I looked quizzically at Tucker but no explanation was forthcoming. He turned his back on me while dishing up some steaming porridge. We ate in silence after which I cleared the dishes and switched on the dishwasher before we left.

It was only when we started driving that Tucker gave a huge sigh before explaining.

"There were three people shot dead in an ally while we were playing 'Saving the City'. One of the people is known to us as a regular informer, a snitch working as a double agent with several of the drug gangs. The other two's fingerprints did not show anything on the Planetary Data System.

We need to find out what had happened in that ally. Whether they were all actually killed there, and who else was involved in the situation.

If it turns out that you are right about our little Low-life, that he was one of the drug lords, the whole underworld system is going to be running red with blood as everyone scrambles for a new position.

We won't need a missile to flatten New Haven. It will happen from ground-roots up."

The morgue was situated in the Hospital's basement. It was a puzzle why a hospital would be situated opposite the end of the airport's western runway. It seemed the most unlikely place to have a hospital.

The building was cold and I did not look forward to what I was asked to do.

Tucker completed the paperwork and we were led to a separate section where the three bodies were lined up on standard mortuary slabs. The assistant left us with the bodies. He apparently knew we were coming and went about his business.

Tucker made sure the door was locked from the inside so I would not be disturbed.

My palms were sweating and I rubbed my left hand dry on my pants. We had no idea what would happen, as this was only the second time that I had to touch a body.

Tucker unzipped the first body-bag. Presented was a large man with short-cropped hair and bullet entry wounds to the chest and one to the forehead. The back of his skull was missing. It looked like a typical gang execution.

"This one was the snitch" Tucker informed me.

I took a huge breath and found my hand directed to the bullet hole over the heart. It made sense, as most of us on Creata believed that the heart is the seat of the soul-spirit.

I touched the bullet wound – and found myself in an ally . . .

It happened so fast that I was flung into the life-memory of the man I was touching.

I was unloading the second body, silently regretting that I had been forced to kill them both. They had found out about me and my special contacts. I stood to lose too much money.

Regent was helping me. My friend always helped me, no matter what the situation.

Dumping the bodies here would help to put pressure on the family that runs the South Side. These were their people and the police would be sniffing up the wrong ally, at least long enough for me to get away with it.

I turned to Regent and saw the firearm in his hand.

I was surprised to see it buck as he pulled the trigger.

I felt the bullet hit.

It was strange, there was no pain.

I touched my chest with my hand.

It was a heart shot, my mind said.

My body started to fall. I felt the next bullet enter my forehead . . .

Tucker was crouching over me.

I was back in my own body, lying on the floor.

This would not do.

Struggling up, nausea overwhelmed me and I dashed for the basin in the corner of the room. Afterwards, I rinsed the mess and my mouth and sat down on the cold floor.

Looking up at Tucker, I tried to stay as professional as possible. Tucker took notes as I related the facts as I saw them in the life-memory of the man I had touched.

After the short rest, Tucker opened the second body-bag.

This man reminded me of a weasel. He had been stabbed numerous times, making for a really messy business.

I centred myself, putting the professional observationalist to the fore before taking the plunge . . .

I was standing in another ally, an independent observer.

The person I was touching was guarding the back door to what looked like a shabby hotel. He turned away from the ally entrance and lit a smoke, cupping it so the draft through the alley could not blow out the match.

The door he was supposed to be guarding silently opened behind him and the first man, the snitch, plunged a knife into his back.

It was a bad thrust and did not have the desired effect, glancing off a rib. A warning was shouted towards an upper window as the weasley man turned to ward off the assault.

He tried to reach for his firearm, but the thrusts came fast and furious. The little man went down in a heap, the life draining out of him.

I tried to follow the killer back through the door, but was pulled back to my own body at dizzying speed . . .

I managed not to end up on the floor, but was heaving for breath, half lying on top of the body.

Focussing, I realized that Tucker was unlocking the door.

A knock on the door had been responsible for bringing me rushing back, unable to complete my task.

Stepping away from the body, I wiped my hand clean on a paper towel that Tucker had produced earlier. Feeling shaky and ready to faint, I supported my weight by leaning against the third cadaver's table.

The mortician entered. "Hi. I hope you found what you were looking for. My assistant said you have been in here for ages."

"We actually need a few more minutes, if you please" Tucker replied, using his most authoritive voice, angry about the interruption.

"We would also appreciate no further interruptions" Tucker concluded with a stern glare.

The mortition was not perturbed. "I had been asked to give you all the assistance you needed and see no reason why I need to leave you alone with bodies in the custody of the state.

Unless . . . Oh!"

The mortician suddenly stared at me, his eyes narrowing, probably noticing me for the first time. You could see the thoughts flashing through his mind, assessing the situation. His eyes suddenly widened with comprehension.

"Unless what?" Tucker pushed.

"Unless your colleague is . . . ?" he stated, turning pale. "I think I will retire to my office now and have some coffee and a rest . . . I have been working long hours and feel tired enough to start having hallucinations."

He quickly backed out of the room, closing the door with exaggerated care behind him. It did seem as if he would keep his mouth closed about his 'hallucinations'.

Tucker unzipped the third body-bag. This once good-looking young man had been executed in the same manner as the snitch.

Centering myself, I once again focused on being the observer, and touched the wound over his heart . . .

I was thrown into a closet. The now deceased young man closed the doors.

"Stay there! Stay quiet!" he ordered me.

Although frozen with fear, I was still aching deliciously from his lovemaking.

I could not help it, curiosity overwhelmed me and I opened the door a crack.

Ferdi was dressing hastily. The hotel room door was forced open and I had such a fright that I almost yelled out before clamping my hand over my mouth.

Ferdi froze, a gun held to his forehead.

"My father will have you killed before my body is cold" he told whoever was holding the gun.

The sound was not loud, only a sigh.

Ferdi fell back, onto the bed. I closed the cupboard door as the second shot whispered and the body moved oddly.

Biting my fist to stop from screaming hysterically, tasting my own blood, I prayed to whatever Universe was out there that whoever killed Ferdi would leave.

I waited.

There was a struggling and a loud thump.

Not able to contain myself any longer, I had to sneak a quick look.

Ferdi's former friend and business associate, Grudber, was wrapping the body in the bed sheet.

Grudber was so intent on removing the body from the room that he did not check to see if Ferdi was actually alone.

The entertainment set was bumped over, sending shards of glass everywhere, killing the rhythmical sounds that had been coming from it throughout the whole event.

Grudber threw Ferdi's body over his shoulder and left, leaving the door open behind him.

Who would care anyway, except to take whatever valuables they could find.

It seemed as if hours had passed before I emerged from the cupboard.

I closed what was left of the front door before dashing to the bathroom. My clothes were still lying in a pile next to the shower. As quick as my shaking fingers could pull clothes on, I yanked my portable comm from my pocket.

Checking at the door to see that no-one was going to disturb me, I phoned my lover's father.

He disapproved of his son's choice in lovers, but did not discourage our relationship outright, as long as we kept it confidential.

He had also given me his personal contact number in case of an emergency. This was an emergency.

I dialled the number. It was on Answering-service, allowing me to leave a message.

"Ferdi was murdered by Grudber in front of me. Grudber took the body with him. He did not see me" I hysterically shouted into the comm before disconnecting.

I had to get out of here. The other side of the world looked attractive. I glimpsed myself in the mirror. My eyes looked like a frightened animal.

I felt a strange pull and remembered that I was NOT Ferdi's unnamed lover . . .

I came back to myself and opened my eyes.

I was still standing, clutching the slab with one hand.

Releasing contact with the body, I looked at Tucker.

"I had to call you back" Tucker explained. "You were gone for more than three minutes. That is far longer than usual. You look terrible."

I felt terrible.

I washed my face in the basin and drank some water. At least the water stayed down this time.

We let ourselves out.

As we passed the head coroner's office, Tucker thanked him personally. The man really looked uncomfortable to have us there.

"You should have told him that I see the spirits of the dead people" I joked towards Tucker, before entering the vehicle.

"I think that is exactly why he is so uncomfortable" Tucker explained. "How would you feel if you have to cut those people open and their spirits might be watching? You did not see any spirits hanging around, did you?"

"I was not concentrating on it, so I did not pick up on anyone if they were present."

"That's odd. I assumed that you saw them all the time."

"No, only when they want me to see them, and if it is really important. Then they present themselves in a form I can perceive. And then only with permission."

I realized what I was telling Tucker. He had a sneaky way of finding things out. Now I was in for it.

"With permission? Permission from whom?" he insisted to know.

"The Other Side. Where we all come from and where we all return to when we go home."

"You say that I will be reunited with my family when I pass over?"

"Yes. If your love here was a bonding, permanent, pure love, then your loved ones are watching over you now, waiting for you to return home."

"Home. That sounds nice." He was quiet for a while.

"Then why do some of you always see dead people, and you only see them occasionally?" he asked.

"Some people dedicate their living lives to help those passed over, either to come into contact with their loved ones that are still living, or vice versa. Or to help those that have passed over that are stuck between worlds to make up their minds to go either way. I, on the other hand, have other work to do.

Right now, I work mainly with time-lines, life-memories and future possibilities. It keeps me busy and I do not need interference from passed over people to interrupt my current work."

I somehow could not tell him about Sensaii.

He nodded, deep in thought.

I was relieved that he did not ask any more questions regarding this. As yet, I did not have a lot of answers myself and I was still in training most nights. Not that I remembered a whole lot of what was downloaded.

At last he asked the question I really wanted to give him an answer to.

"What did you find out about the third body?"

I adjusted the facts a little, telling him that our first body, the snitch called Grudber, had killed both of the other two. That there was a witness to the third person's murder. That the third body belonged to a person named Ferdi and he was the son of a crime-lord. I omitted the relationship of the witness, sparing the father, even though he was a criminal.

When Tucker did not reply, I glanced over at him. He was clenching his jaw, as well as the steering wheel.

"Tucker, what am I missing here?"

"It was before your time. When I was young we had a wealthy family who was involved in all sorts of illegal things. We could never prove anything, of course.

The one man, Morgan, should be about my age now. He has a son called Ferdi. I truly hope that this is not the same person. There will be hell to pay by anyone crossing that family."

"The witness called the father's private number and left a message regarding his son's murder. The son's last words were that the father would have Grudber killed before his body was cold. It seems to me that that is what happened."

"Did you see the number being dialled?"

"Yes."

Tucker handed me his notebook and I wrote it down for him.

"I am taking you home now to rest and then I will get in touch with Racewater. I will either call you later or come by."

He dropped me in front of my building and as he left, feelings of physical exhaustion set in.

I made it up to my apartment where I took a relaxing shower and stretched out on my bed.

I relaxed my body, but the sleep did not want to come and relieve the tension of my mind.

Eventually I stood up and went for a walk. Maybe a change in scenery would help.

The walk to the park seemed very short compared to the first time Julie and Tucker brought me here.

Sitting down on a bench, I tried to enjoy the lovely garden, but felt even more agitated and restless.

Getting up, I headed towards the beachfront, which turned out to be quite a long walk away from the garden.

The cooler air coming off the beach was soothing to my hot body.

It was already late afternoon and I found a secluded spot near the pier from where I could look out over the sea.

Settling on the sand, I ran it through my fingers. The sun was slowly setting to my right, throwing the pier's shadow over this stretch of sandy beach. It was not a swimming spot, so was quite deserted.

The tide was coming in.

As I looked upon the silver, gold and red tinted water, something white near the pier caught my eye.

It was only there for a moment. Then gone. Then presenting itself with the next wave coming in.

Not able to make out what it was, I stood up, dusted myself and walked over to have a closer look.

I was almost at the pier when an exceptionally big wave washed the body high onto the beach under the pier.

Running over, I grabbed an arm to prevent it from being dragged back into the sea. I pulled it onto the beach, clear of the water. By now, I knew when a body no longer housed a spirit.

Turning the naked body over, I sat down hard on the sand.

It was the boy I had shared the experience with in the cupboard this morning.

Looking around to see if anyone else took notice, I found that the beach, and for some reason, the pier, was empty, making the whole area feel strangely deserted.

The boy must have drowned for there were no obvious wounds or bruises that I could see.

Looking down at him, I made my decision. I really wanted to know what had happened to him.

Taking his right hand in my left, I was transported to an apartment overlooking the Airport . . .

Ferdi's father was standing in the doorway.

I was surprised and terrified to see him.

"You killed my son!" he ranted. "You and your kind must be eradicated from this planet. I have taken a vow to protect my family, and now my youngest has been taken away from me also."

Ferdi's father grabbed me behind my neck.

I did not even resist, sort of 'stepped' out of my body, and saw him dragging me to the bathroom.

He stuck my head in the toilet and kept it there.

I could not breathe.

I started struggling.

Breathe! Breathe! my brain screamed.

My lungs burnt for air and I took a great big gulp of toilet water.

Slowly, the burning ceased.

Slowly everything started going dark. It did not seem so bad to drown . . .

"Hey, mister. Are you okay?"

I opened my eyes and took a huge gulp of cold sea air.

There was a teenager standing over me.

I struggled up into a sitting position, still taking huge gulps of air.

The teenager looked at me with a mixture of scorn and inquisitiveness on his face.

"I'm okay. I just had a bad dream. I must have fallen asleep for a while. I have been exhausted lately."

"Well, this is no place for a nap, especially not with the tide coming in. You will be cut off from the high ground soon.

It is a good thing that we were watching you. We do not see a lot of strangers on this part of the beach. Too many gangs around" he explained.

I liked the teenager. He had a bright demeanour about him. Bright, chirpy and very dangerous.

Feeling for my wallet, I found that it was still in its place.

The teenager did not miss this gesture and laughed out loud. "Do not worry, we do not harass Law Officers."

I came to the uncomfortable conclusion that he probably did check it out while I was away.

The waves were coming in. It would be a terrible spot to be cut off from the high ground. There were sharp rocks all over near the wall and only two places with stairs that would be under water soon.

Smiling my thanks at the boy, I turned away to leave. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a white object in the water.

I already knew who it was. I really hoped that this was not another vision/dream. Checking the pier to ascertain in which reality I found myself, I saw all sorts of people out for an evening walk.

In my haste to find peace within myself, I had left my portable comm at home. I turned to the boy.

"Please call the emergency services" I instructed him. "Tell them there is a body at pier 6. Detective Storm is in attendance and they need to get Lieutenant Racewater from Homicide, division 12, down here as soon as possible. Did you get all that."

"Yes Detective" he confirmed before running for the stairs.

I jogged into the shallow waves to retrieve the body.

Careful not to touch the hands, I dragged it to the wall between the rocks. I guessed I had about ten minutes before the water would reach us.

After a short wait, I was relieved to hear a familiar voice from above me.

"What do you have there Han?" Panam called out. "I received the message that an Emergency Vehicle was needed here to remove a body. From the look of things, it might be two if we do not get you out of there right away."

He was right. The water was starting to come into the rocks. My assessment of about ten minutes was accurate.  
Panam left for a little while and came back with a portable stretcher attached to ropes.

He lowered it down and I secured the boy's body in it. It was dragged back up and over the edge.

My feet and legs were getting soaked. A rope with knots was flung down and I climbed up to safety on my own.

Clambering over the edge, I sat there for a while, breathing hard.

Whoever placed that boy in the sea knew that the body would have been pulped and eaten by the sea creatures before dawn. They had the timing perfectly correct, so they probably had done this before.

What they did not bargain on was an idiot to fall asleep on the beach. At least I now knew what had happened to the kid and had received a clear look at Ferdi's father.

I really disliked these real life visions. It is confusing not to know in which reality you actually found yourself.

I was still not totally convinced that I was awake, but I had to settle for this reality because of the uncomfortable wetness from my toes up to my thighs.

A perfectly good pair of shoes ruined at that!

Panam came over to me after securing the body in his EV.

"Terrible time you are having. Your ride arrived at the corner looking extremely excited. Good luck."

Panam was right. Racewater did look excited as he pushed through the crowd.

"Who did you get?" Racewater exclaimed.

"The witness from the case you gave us this morning. He did not make it" I replied dryly.

"Let me see."

Racewater climbed into the back of the EV. Panam lifted the sheet from the boy's face.

For a moment, I thought Racewater was going to have a fit, he was so upset.

He closed his eyes and sat down on the small ledge inside the vehicle. Pulling his hands through his hair, he sighed and stood up.

"Okay. That is that. Let us get back to the office. Tucker is waiting there."

Looking at my wet pants, he asked Panam if he had any extra clothes with him.

Panam nodded the affirmative and dug out some clean pants for me. He did not have an extra pair of shoes. I changed inside the EV, feeling sympathy with the dead boy.

Armed with dry pants, but with bare feet, Racewater allowed me into his vehicle.

As we drove to the Precinct Racewater seemed irritated with me, shifting gears on his vehicle with short, angry stabs.

"Right. So you gave everyone a hell of a lot of work!" he eventually remarked. "Tucker instructed me to fill you in on the blanks of what had transpired since he left you this morning.

Your militia man was arrested by the Planetary Security Forces about an hour ago. They found the missile and a lot more weapons of destruction.

Combined with the find of a huge amount of drugs, not a bad deal for a day's work.

New Haven is saved to be destroyed another day."

It was shown in the possibilities that the threat to New Haven was over, but to have it confirmed was so much better. At least one stressful issue relieved.

"Your leads on the Kingpin turned out to be much bigger than anyone expected" Racewater growled at me. "We are waiting for the chain-reaction to start. We have already gathered loads of evidence from his hiding places that will allow us to put away a lot of people for a very long time.

But, I am sorry to say, the murder of Ferdi Morgan has already started the imminent war."

Racewater had just confirmed what Tucker suspected.

I watched Racewater out of the corner of my eye. I knew he was not yet finished. He was chewing on his lip.

"Had you ever felt within your heart that you were born for something greater than yourself?" he asked.

My heart suddenly leapt into my throat.

I had a hard time convincing it to get back into my chest.

Here we were starting with the destiny thing again.

Walk the middle path of invisibility, I told myself.

"Why are you asking me such a strange question? All psychics know they are born to serve" I replied, thinking that this answer should take the pressure off me.

But my hands were suddenly clammy and I had to rub them dry on my pants. The motion did not go undetected.

"I was just wondering!?" Racewater fumed. "It seems to be such a waste of your talents if you were truly destined to help only one city."

He was quiet for a short spell.

Relaxing my body, I tried to become non-committal.

He was really annoyed with me for not wanting to acknowledge his silly notions.

"Think about it, Storm!

You are a free-lance psychic. You have only been opened fully for three days and you had been able to save a whole city.

No other psychic can lay claim to such a thing!

Does it not feel to you that you are extremely fortunate and special?"

I stared out the window.

All I could remember about the last week was extreme pain and confusion.

To me, Creata was hell itself, and I would much rather not live in this physical world. It was an extremely hostile environment, especially for someone who did not have loved ones.

I corrected myself. I did have my substitute dad.

I did not know what I would do if I had to lose Tucker.

Racewater sighed. He must have taken my silence for total denial. I did not correct him. At this moment, I was not really interested in any destiny.

I had my hands full keeping body and spirit together, so to speak.

We drove in silence the rest of the way to the Precinct.

The Dungeon was buzzing with detectives coming and going. Uniformed officers were running errands between offices. The place was swarming with people.

I felt uncomfortable passing through the crowd and knew that the Detectives, at least, had cottoned on to what I was.

I was immensely relieved to reach the relative quiet of our out of the way office where Tucker was waiting for us.

New Haven was falling apart.

Some say Hell is a place you go to when you do not behave properly. In all my travels to the Other Side, I have never encountered Hell. I am sure that is why we were here, in these bodies, on this Planet. This was living in Hell.

We barely slept and I was called upon to do numerous identifications of who had killed who in the following days.

The gangs were at W-A-R.

It was terrible and the streets literally ran red with blood. Guilty and innocent alike.

I helped as best determine who were innocent victims of this war, getting really good at my grisly task.

Thankfully, I did not have to deal with any spirits at all during this time. Only the life-memories left behind.

It made my life a little easier.

Eventually, everyone settled into a new way of life, and over a period of about a month, things started calming down.

New Haven survived another kind of destruction.

The underworld was purged and reorganized. Unfortunately, most of it was now run by Custos Morgan.

And we could not prove a thing. He hid so well behind lawyers and reputable friendships, that only a handful of officers knew the truth about him.

He was a constant threat. A snake in the grass that hid until it could strike. I came to dislike the man intensely.

Whenever I could get a bit of sleep, I did not rest.

I either went to the Halls of Knowledge for downloads, of which I could not recall any content on waking up, or when I actually slept, I had a recurrent dream.

It was in black and white.

We were in a warehouse somewhere on the docks. I knew Tucker was with me, yet I felt utterly alone and abandoned.

I rebelled against this unwanted feeling and always managed to wake myself up.

The dream kept on haunting my waking hours too. Tucker seemed to sense that something was bothering me but did not ask me about it, knowing that I sometimes needed time to work things out for myself.

A few days after everything had seemed to finally calm down, we were called out to another murder at a warehouse on the docks.

My chest tightened as Tucker explained where we were going, my dream returning vividly to me. I tried to set it aside and concentrate on the work at hand, but did not have much success.

We drove to the warehouse in silence.

There were Security Force vehicles parked randomly in front of it. Some of the uniformed officers had already started cordoning the area off. Detective Stone escorted us towards where the bodies were in the back of the warehouse.

It was twilight in the warehouse and it reminded me of my dream. For a second I froze.

Tucker turned around to look back at me.

My head felt as if it exploded with the sudden noise of gunfire from short range. My first thought was that the warehouse was not secure and we found ourselves in a gunfight.

We scrambled for cover.

All except Tucker!

He was down against some barrels, desperately holding his neck.

Rushing over to him, I pulled him around the barrels, out of the line of fire. The artery in his neck had been severed.

Ripping my shirt, I made a pad, helping him to hold it against his neck.

I still wanted to encourage him to hold on, that Stone had seen his injury and would get help, but his blood gushed over my hands and I was thrown into his life-memories . . .

It is said that before you die, you see your whole life play off before your eyes.

This was similar.

I saw Tucker as a little boy, playing cops and robbers.

We moved on to his love for his wife. The joy and pride of becoming a father to a healthy baby boy. The utter hopelessness when they discovered him to be psychic. The devastation when their son died. The heart-wrenching guilt when his wife lost interest in life and moved on.

The unconditional acceptance of me as his replacement son. His fatherly love and genuine concern for me. His regret that he would no longer be there to help me.

The gratitude that his life was finally over and he could go home. The utter joy to find his wife and son coming to take him home . . .

He was gone.

My grief overwhelmed me.

Hugging his head to my chest, I rocked back and forth, tears streaming down my face.

It became quiet.

The gunfight had ended a while ago.

The screaming and calling from one officer to another came to an end.

I held onto Tucker what seemed to be a long time. The tears dried on my cheeks. I closed my eyes and refused to acknowledge anything.

I had the sensation that Sensaii was trying to get through to me, but I refused to open my mind or my senses.

Tucker's life-memories were now part of me too.

We were eventually found by Racewater.

He gently pried my hands from Tucker's cooling body, pulling me to my feet.

I allowed him to lead me to his vehicle.

He took me home.

Panam was already waiting for us at my apartment.

They led me to the bathroom, helping me undress, shower and dry.

They took me to my bed and I settled on it, refusing to meet their eyes, refusing to hear Sensaii.

I wanted to join Tucker. This was all too hard.

Panam found a vein and the familiar coursing of drugs were welcome relief for my mind and body.

##  Chapter Nine

I woke to the familiar sound of Tucker's voice.

No, that was not Tucker.

Tucker had passed on in my arms.

It was Racewater's voice.

Racewater and Panam.

I expanded my hearing to follow the conversation.

"Han's just lost Tucker" Panam was saying. "The psychics at the facility all had people helping them. The bond became exceptionally strong between the two people and I have only once came across another psychic who lost his handler. He was useless to himself and everybody else. They sent him away for a while and eventually paired him with another person. As far as I know, his services are still being used."

"You are suggesting that we find someone to replace Tucker?" Racewater queried.

"Not someone he does not know. That will make the process too long, and as I understand, you want him back in the field as soon as possible. No. It will have to be you."

Racewater sounded doubtful.

"Me? I have very little knowledge on how to help Storm. I would never be able to do what Tucker did."

"You mean you do not want to baby sit, yet, you want Han to operate at full capacity when you need him.

Think about it. Tucker died in Han's arms. Han was covered with Tucker's blood when you found them. And we both know what his speciality is.

He probably experienced Tucker's death as if it was his own.

If he is not strong enough, and you do not give him a good enough reason to continue, he might give up and be lost to all of us.

As I see it, you are the most qualified person to take Tucker's place. You have been with them more than anyone else and you are the only one that has seen Han in action.

You have a background in psychic behaviour and your Clan has a history of psychics.

You are the logical choice."

"I can see your side of the argument" Racewater countered, "but it means that I would have to give up my life. Everything I know will change. I am not sure I can make that commitment."

Panam, as young as he was, was becoming angry with an obstinate Racewater.

"You are only thinking of yourself. You expect everyone else to work around the clock to bring justice to all, yet you now want to complain that your life will change because Han gave his whole life to us.

Han places his life in danger every time he goes away. He goes above and beyond duty. He eats, drinks, sleeps, dreams the job.

You have no right being here if you do not want to sacrifice your puny life alongside that man. Please, just leave."

It was a final ultimatum.

I heard Racewater's chair scrape and his footsteps retreating to the door.

The door closed quietly.

"Darn!" Panam whispered to himself.

Hearing him cominging down the passage, I closed my eyes and deepened my breathing.

He settled in the chair and whispered softly to me "He will come around. I am sure he will realize that he is the only one who would be able to help you. I told myself I was not going to get involved, but here I am. Protecting and helping you.

Oh! Julie. I am so sorry I cannot be there to help you with your uncle. But you understand and I love you more for that."

It became quiet again and we both dozed off.

I woke with a start.

Panam was still sleeping in the chair.

Tucker was standing next to my bed.

I could sense his wife and son near him, but could not see them.

"I came to say goodbye. Be happy with me Han. I am back with my loved ones. My physical troubles are over.

You must move forward now. You must follow your destiny.

Tell Julie I love her and tell Panam he has my blessing to marry her."

He smiled and faded away before I could respond.

I sat in silence, thinking about ways I could continue our relationship.

*I want to go to the Personal Recording Halls* I told Sensaii.

*It is only a place of life-memories* Sensaii replied. *You have those already. If Tucker wants any further association with you, he will present himself as he did.*

*But I really want to feel him, just one more time* I pleaded.

*Even if you went to the Halls, which is only the place for the recordings, you would not be allowed to enter and activate the recently passed over's life-memories. You know that.*

*Then what is the difference if I touch a recently passed-over person's life essence? Is it not the same?*

*No. What you experience on this plane is mostly only the recording that is yet to be integrated into the life-memory of the person. The less time that passes from the time the person dies, the clearer the recording. The longer the person is dead, the more difficult for you to follow the recording, hence the eventual necessity to actually visit the Personal Recording Halls.*

*Then I will have to wait a while before I will go* I insisted stubbornly.

*You will not be allowed* Sensaii answered patiently.

*Why not?*

*It is not for the highest good of all. It will be for purely selfish reasons. You have to have pure intent when you enter the Recording Halls, or the doors will be locked to you.

Now stop feeling sorry for yourself. The quicker you get yourself organized, the easier it will be for Tucker to visit you from time to time.*

I was not content, and as a naughty child continued *I did not see this coming. I had visions of pending danger, but I could not even save Tucker.*

*It was his planned time to go home. He died as he chose to, in the arms of a beloved person.*

*It is not fair. This life is not fair. I do not want any of this anymore. I did not ask for this.* But even as I thought it, I realized that it was not the truth.

I did ask for this.

Somehow, I took this specific bodily form with these specific capabilities for some or other specific task.

What exactly did I know about myself?

Really, I asked myself.

Why did I come here to Creata?

Why did I choose to be the way I am?

Who am I really?

The eternal question.

I felt very sorry for myself and only wished to wallow in self-pity and depression.

I pulled the blanket over my head and closed myself off to the world.

Panam woke me late the following morning.

"Freshen up, take a shower and I will see you for breakfast shortly" he ordered.

I did as requested, not feeling like doing anything for myself.

My head was swimming with Tucker's memories.

But it was more than memories. It was emotions, impressions and vast amounts of knowledge congregated inside my pounding head.

It was confusing and awesome and exhilarating all at the same time. It was as if Tucker had never left. Even his private opinions were at my disposal. I needed time to sort through everything.

I joined Panam at a mediocre breakfast. He definitely was not as good a cook as Tucker used to be. I was not hungry anyway, but managed to force some food down.

Panam placed a mug of coffee with two tablets in front of me.

"Drink it, it will relieve the headaches."

I looked up at him. I wanted to sort out Tucker's memories. I needed my wits about me for that. I did not want to be drugged at this time.

He stared me down.

"I am responsible for your physical welfare and I am telling you to take these tablets. They do not have any psychological effect, only physical. They will not even make you drowsy."

Shrugging, I swallowed them with the coffee.

"Now go do what you must in your special room. Racewater phoned and said he will be around this afternoon. I need you resembling something sane and attentive when he comes. Go now."

I retired to my meditation room.

Panam closed the door behind me and I could hear him starting on the dishes. I stood there in the semi-gloom for a while, deciding on the best course of action to take.

Firstly, I wanted to find out exactly what had happened at that warehouse.

My own memory recordings had never been locked to me so I would start there.

I composed myself in my usual cross-legged position. Relaxing my body and deepening my breathing, I allowed myself to reach my own place of recording.

Finding myself back at the warehouse, this time as an observer only, I saw myself and Tucker walking towards the store-rooms.

There was a slight movement in the rafters to my right. I froze for a second.

It saved my life.

It took Tucker's.

I looked at the place where the sound of gunfire started.

A man was nestled amongst some rafters. Focussing my attention on him, I requested a close-up.

Memory told me that this was Regent, the man that had killed the snitch. I memorized his aura, which would enable me to recognize him if I ever saw him again.

Following the gunfight from an elevated position, I was able to see Tucker's assassin leaving the building through the landing at the top.

I was able to follow him.

It was really interesting to note that my own personal recordings overlapped with Creata's recording system. I could go where I pleased as long as I entered via my own recordings. Yet, I could not do this when I was visiting someone else's recordings.

I could do it when I was following unlogged recordings of newly passed-over people. Maybe the connection lay there. Maybe I am following my own unlogged recordings as a back door into the recording system?

Anyway. Back to the killer.

He got into a vehicle and drove up Hill Street where the affluent people lived. After passing the airport he turned off onto Maine Avenue, eventually turning into a beautiful walled garden.

The house in the middle of the grounds was exceptionally old. It felt as if the oldness oozed out of every stone. The killer parked in front of the house and went up the stairs to the huge double doors. A butler opened it and he was ushered inside.

I glided through the door. It felt like walking through a hologram. The mind played tricks on the spirit, letting it feel as if it actually walked through matter.

My enemy went upstairs and entered a room where I slipped in behind him. We were in a study and behind a huge desk sat Mr Custos Morgan.

I would never be able to forget the face that killed that unfortunate boy.

"Is it done?" he demanded.

My enemy visibly cringed.

"No, the psychic froze as I pulled the trigger. I did kill the handler. It is as good as killing the psychic. My contact in the Government assured me of it. It may actually be worse for the psychic. It will make him suffer."

Morgan lost his temper, becoming pink with rage.

He slowly rose out of his chair and placed both hands on the table, leaning forward.

"I do not want him to suffer!" he told the man through clenched teeth. "I want him wiped off the face of this planet!

He touched my boys. Anyone who touches my children must be killed. Now get to it and do not come back unless you have the desired results."

I was pulled back to my own body in a whirring motion, landing with a thud. A splitting headache started up right away.

This was no decent way of coming back.

What brought me back?

The front door!

It slammed.

No, crashed!

I expanded my hearing.

There were intruders on the premises and they did not worry about being subtle.

I scanned for Panam. He was not in the apartment and I found his essence two blocks away in the vicinity of the grocery store.

Good.

I concentrated on myself. I needed to hide, being in no condition to fight anybody at the moment.

There was no-where to hide in this room, and also everywhere.

I braced myself for what I had to do. It would take a lot of energy.

I pulled all my life-force within myself, then heightened the rate of vibration to all my cells. This is an exercise usually done under great control over a longer period, but I knew I needed to be invisible to the untrained eye right now.

I felt my body responding, becoming weightless.

Requesting all my cells to vibrate even higher, I had the satisfying feeling of my body dissolving into pure energy.

It was such a lovely feeling that I almost wished I could stay there, but the feeling was short lived.

The door to the room was thrown open. The light switched on and two people armed with firearms rushed in. They had a quick look around before retreating to the living area.

"No-one's here, yet you said you waited all day and did not see the psychic leaving the building. Are you sure you have the right bloody building?"

It was Regent, my enemy.

"Of course. Our information is accurate. I double checked the address myself" the other man replied.

"Well, there is no-one here right now. You better find him – and fast, or I'll kill you in his place!"

I heard them leave and when I could not hear their footsteps any longer, I let myself go, landing with a thud.

In all the excitement I had allowed my body to float up to the ceiling.

I forgot to check my position before I slowed my cells' vibrational rate back to normal. It would have been hard to explain to someone how I managed to get stuck with my head in the ceiling, had I floated any higher.

As it was, I now had a sprained ankle that was already turning blue.

Being exhausted and on the verge of passing out, I knew I desperately needed help.

I needed Panam.

Focussing my remaining energy on him, I gave a psychic shout in one long silent scream.

Panam stormed into the room.

"I'm here. I heard you! I came as fast as I could.

Dear Universe. What happened here?"

I did not answer. I was totally depleted and lying on my back on the carpet.

Panam left for a while and returned with a small bottle. He placed it to my lips.

"Drink, you will feel better instantly. Guaranteed!"

I took a sip and swallowed quickly.

It was the most bitter, disgusting stuff I have ever tasted. It burnt all the way down to my stomach.

It had the desired effect though. I immediately felt better and struggled into a sitting position, wincing when I moved my ankle.

"I told you you will feel better right away. What happened here anyway? The door was wide open when I came back."

"There were some men with firearms. They did not see me inside the dark room, above the door" I tried to explain my narrow escape.

It sounded lame, but it was the nearest to the truth I wanted to venture at this stage.

"They left and I did not make a graceful landing" I continued.

He seemed to believe me. "Okay, I am quickly going to get hold of Racewater before seeing to your foot."

He left me there and I could hear him requesting backup from Racewater. He brought me some water when he came back.

"Racewater is sending backup so long. They should be here in the next few minutes. There is a squad patrolling not far from here."

He started examining my ankle.

"What is in that potion you gave me?" I wanted to know from him.

"It is actually something Racewater gave me this morning. He apparently received it from some or other herbalist that he knows. I am more inclined to think it comes from his own Clan.

You know he comes from a highly psychic Clan?"

I shook my head in the negative.

"That is odd. Tucker used to speak of it all the time. Anyway, I am glad it works."

I pulled my leg away under his probing fingers.

"Sorry. It does not seem broken, only badly sprained. I am sure you can heal it if you tried."

I looked at him. The thought never occurred to me.

"How?" I asked, intrigued.

"I have seen a lot of miracle healing being done at the facility. The psychics there call it energy healing. They place their hands over an affected area, either themselves or another person, and heal them. As easy as that." Panam clicked his fingers.

Energy healing rang a bell.

So this is how the downloads worked!

You do not have access to the information until you actually needed it. And then sometimes, you needed a trigger to unlock the knowledge.

A floodgate opened in my mind with that one phrase.

Energy healing!

Anything from broken bones to walking through walls. Only not with the energy depletion I have just experienced, because one used Universal or Source Energy and not one's own.

I placed my foot between my hands. Cupping my ankle loosely, I opened the top of my own auric field to the Universe and felt the energy racing into my head, down my arms and out the palms of my hands. I could see a golden orb surrounding my hands, engulfing my ankle.

It felt like pins and needles and I could see the tissue and cells' vibration picking up. Now it was merely a part of my body's cells being raised in vibration to be healed, not my whole body as to become invisible.

It felt odd and it looked even worse. From dark purple to greenish to yellow and then back to normal. I had a warm feeling around my whole foot and knew the healing was complete. The energy orb dissipated to nothing.

I felt strangely revitalized, not drained as usual.

Wow. How many things did I not learn today?

I became aware of Panam staring at me.

"I knew you could do it" he congratulated me. "I just did not expect to see it happen before my own eyes. I do not want you to ever say to me you feel sick again. You can heal yourself."

"Only if I can focus on what I am doing." I smiled up at him, impressed with my newfound talent and suddenly aware that I could have saved Tucker.

*Not so.*

The eternal Sensaii was constantly there.

*If I had access to this knowledge I could have healed Tucker* I countered.

*Even if you were aware that you could have used this, you still would not have been able to bring Tucker back from the other side* Sensaii insisted.

*None of this makes sense.*

*It was Tucker's time to go home. He knew that and would not have allowed you to keep him here. You can only heal people when they ask and want healing. Source Energy will only flow if someone chose complete healing.*

We were interrupted by a knock on the door.

Panam opened it to the Uniforms Racewater had sent. One of them came inside my apartment and took a stance near the door. The other stayed in the passage.

They insisted that we lock the door.

It was not broken, as I almost always found it unlocked. I have come to suspect that Sensaii took charge to keep the door unlocked.

We busied ourselves with replacing some of my lost energy, with me doing the cooking! I ate a bit, but was surprisingly, not as hungry as I used to be.

We were almost finished with coffee when flashes of visions started dancing and quivering in my minds eye. It was incredibly hard to concentrate on what I was doing or saying physically. The visions came so fast and were so varied that I found it almost impossible to keep track of any one of them.

I saw that Panam was looking at me with some concern, but could not concentrate long enough on his face to figure out what he wanted. Eventually I felt a hand on my arm and was led to my room.

"Where is a bag? We better start packing. Racewater will get you away from here. It is no longer safe for you."

I heard and understood the words, but did not bother to respond. It was as if everything happened from a far distance away. I watched as Panam scrounged through my cupboards until he found my travel bag.

It amused me to think that I had last used it at the academy. It was not so long ago, yet, it felt like years.

He went through my drawers, placing an assortment of clothes into the bag.

I sat in the chair, watching him finish packing.

Tucker's memories continued to surface. Important knowledge kept on coming to the fore, playing off in my mind's eye. It stayed for a few seconds, and moved on, to be replaced by the next image.

I somehow managed to slow things down a little, or my brain was adjusting to 'read' it more slowly. It felt as if I was trapped in a kind of half-life. Not asleep and yet not awake.

Somewhere, I was concerned to stay alive in this body. Somehow, it did not matter. Not really.

Panam left the room for a few minutes.

He returned with Racewater.

"He is having some kind of episode. He is not really responding, but you would be able to handle him. He does what he is told.

Please be gentle with him. I have packed essentials only. I have also prepared three knock-outs if you need them. Use them only if you really have to."

He placed the three syringes in the top of my bag and zipped it closed before coming to stand in front of me.

"Han, I will join you as soon as you are settled. Tucker expects better of you."

"I know. Thanks" I managed to reply, getting up.

I took my bag and followed Racewater out to his vehicle, relieved to leave New Haven.

END of Part 1

Ω

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#  About H Gibson

Author of The Chronicles of Han Storm

In 2004 the Author of Chronicles of Han Storm sustained third degree burns to 35% of her body including her face and both hands. She twice went into cardiac arrest and was resuscitated by the emergency personnel. It took quite a while for her to regain functionality, with healing, physiotherapy and two small children to contend with.

In 2008, after the scarring finally started to heal with the products her husband had developed for her, he gave her a laptop, encouraging her to stop saying that she would one day like to write a book and actually do it.

One book quickly became a Series with all books over 600 A5 pages of reading excitement.

Visit the website for excerpts, blogs and to purchase the books.

www.chroniclesofhan.com

H Gibson's Books are listed on  Goodreads

