A new character enters the story universe of E J Randolph’s Federation Diplomat
series, which begins with Retrograde
E J Randolph
“You won’t pass the test.” My brother Torondo shot me an evil grin from his side of the
well-worn, scratched kitchen tabletop.
I squinted at him. “Yes, I will.” I dug my spoon into my oatmeal and slurped milk and
cereal.
“Gross.” Torondo scrunched his face at me. “You have no manners.”
I jumped up and grabbed my jacket. “The examiners won’t care how I eat. Only if I
can use the psy box. You know I can.”
He snorted. “Once they see you in action and realize you don’t need the psy box,
they’ll bounce you so hard, you won’t have an ass anymore.”
Little brothers could be such a pain to big sisters. I’d learned long ago to ignore
most of what he said.
Mother turned from the counter where she was chopping vegetables. “Torondo.
Watch your mouth. Tvella will do fine.”
Torondo glared at me.
I stuck my tongue out at him. Sure, the gesture was juvenile, but so was he. “You’re
just jealous.” I dashed out the door before he could respond, my pony tail swinging
across my back. I was going to max this exam.
I threw my leg over my rusty, old robobike, tapped in Central Island’s spaceport,
and roared off. Who’d want to ride in a motorized conveyance when they could feel the
wind blowing in their face and hair? I preferred this freedom.
I stopped at the entrance. The spaceport stretched as far as my eyes could see. It
was the biggest on the planet Harmony with endless rows of hangars. Every one held a
spaceship that could fly to the stars. My fingertips tingled. I imagined myself roaring
toward space in a sleek spaceship, and my heart beat a little faster. This psy box could
be my ticket out of dreary career in maintenance or data entry into an exciting life
traveling to the stars.
A big guard stepped out of a kiosk and headed toward me. I handed him my pass
for the exam. His eyes narrowed. “You don’t look old enough.”
Jeez. I pulled up my credentials from my wrist computer. I was eighteen and
counting.
His eyes flicked to my face.
Yeah, my computer was an old model. But it worked. I raised my chin. I had my
pride. What else could I afford? Dad was long gone, and Mom didn’t make much
processing insurance claims from home.
He pointed to the left. “Down that way. You can’t miss it. There’s a long line
already.”
Just my luck.
The guard went back into his little kiosk. I tapped the controls, swung to the left, and
puttered past several administrative buildings. The line came into view, and I drew in a
breath. At least a hundred young men and women stood in a line outside a modest,
white-painted syncrete building. A side lot held various conveyances. I slid my robobike
next to a shiny new hovercraft. Whoever drove that would later probably check for rust
marks on the side.
My robobike might be old, but it worked well. I took it apart and oiled everything at
least once every six months. Fortunately the electronics were simple. If they didn’t work,
I got a new mother board. Electronics were not my thing.
No, I had a different talent. One that was worthless before the formation of the psy
corps and maybe even now. Certainly one that was worthless until hostile, psychic
aliens surrounded the planet Lotusandra a year ago and demanded the government
provide humans for experiments. The local meditators and psychics convinced the
aliens to leave. But everyone knew those mind-suckers would be back. And the next
time, the dangerous beings wouldn’t leave so easily. It was up to the newly formed psy
corps to block them and protect humanity.
Old Earth’s research and development teams had come up with the psy box. This
invention could detect psychic transmissions and set up blocking frequencies. Everyone
heralded the contraption as the biggest leap forward in psy war technology in years. I
snorted. If that’s all it could do, what was the point? But the authorities thought it would
neutralize the alien’s power. Hah. All the aliens had to do was use one of their
disintegrator beams. I’d read about how they’d turned it on a communications satellite
the last time they threatened humanity, and the satellite had disappeared.
But no matter how ineffectual, this psy corps was my big chance. I was one of the
few who’d passed the initial screenings sent to all the schools. I appraised my
competition waiting to take the test. Men and women mostly from a variety of Navy
ranks stood with confidence, dressed in their neatly pressed uniforms.
I grimaced. My clothes were faded but clean. Mom had figured out how to get our
dewrinkler working one more time and thrown in my jeans, t-shirt, and denim jacket.
My friend Marlene’s husband was in the Navy and had brought home an instruction
holo for the psy box, so I knew how the device worked. She’d called me to check it out,
and I’d watched it over and over until I was sure I could read the correct detection
patterns and press the appropriate counteraction buttons. Since I was a whiz at video
games, surely, I’d to be faster than almost anyone else.
But in principle, the psy box was not hard to operate. Every last one of these
hopefuls would be able to do it. What chance did I have? Maybe I was fooling myself.
The line was moving. I tried to read the faces of the hopefuls as they left the
building. They were neutral. I guessed no one knew whether they’d passed. I didn’t
need to open my mind and let their thoughts enter me.
My turn came. I walked into the building. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to
the dim interior. A man and a woman sat on the other side of a wooden table. A small
black psy box with twelve buttons lay in front of them.
“Tvella Lotit?” The woman’s voice held a question beyond that of my name.
“That’s me.” I stood with my legs set apart and my head at a cocky angle.
Her lips pursed. “Do you know how this box works?” Her voice dripped with
condescension.
“Yes, I do.”
“Do you have a pass?”
I handed it to her.
She glanced at it. “I see. A vocational school.”
Heat rose up my neck.
The man pointed to the black box. “Pick it up.” His voice was gruff.
I held it in the palm of my hand.
He pressed some buttons in front of him.
I grinned. The first pattern was easy. I pressed the correct counterattack.
He entered another set. I responded with a different group of buttons.
Patterns erupted across the screen. As soon as one appeared, I zapped it. This was
fun. I could do it all day.
The screen went blank. The man stared at me for nearly a minute, his face
betraying nothing. “You may go now. We’ll let you know.”
The woman sat with crossed arms. Nope, she didn’t like me.
I’d done well, but that might not matter. I was not regular Navy. I came from a
vocational school. I dressed in old clothes. What else did they need to know I was not
their kind?
I walked out. The lot was nearly empty. I got on my robobike, but I didn’t go home. I
drove past the businesses and apartments that constituted the older part of Felice, the
small town that had sprouted up in the last fifty years to cater to the Federation
government and Navy personnel based on Central and puttered by the new
construction on the rim of the town rising like mushrooms after a rain. I wrinkled my
nose at the strong musky mud-syncrete odor.
On top of a hill overlooking the town, I stopped. A breeze blew past me with the
sweet scent of catriol trees. I sat on a flat rock and rubbed my face. If that silly box was
all humans had to counter the aliens, we were in serious trouble. How strong were the
aliens’ inner voices? Could they break through the protective zone I projected every day
to keep people’s inner voices out? Those examiners didn’t know it, but I was the real
deal, maybe the only potential alien hunter who had applied today. And they would
probably nix my application.
And if they learned about my real talent, that would be worse. Sure, on Lotusandra,
psychics were respected. But that’s because so many had some talent, no one was
uncomfortable. But here on Central, the headquarters of the Federation Navy and
government, a psychic made waves. Their best course of action was to help the police
or set up a shop, but once outed, they could never expect to be treated like a normal
person.
Granny had noticed my talent when I was still in my crib. I cried when sad thoughts
crossed her mind and smiled with her happy ones no matter her expression. Over the
years, she worried about me. Don’t let people know. They’ll be uncomfortable. They
won’t want to be your friend. They’ll shun you. They won’t understand. They’ll think you’ll
do something evil if you can read their minds.
I told her usually all I got were emotions.
“That’s enough.” She leveled her gaze at me. “Believe me.”
One time on a playground when I was five years old, I told another little girl I heard
her thoughts in my head. She ran screaming to her mother. Her mother marched over
and said she was going to report me, that officers would take me away and put me
where I couldn’t harm anyone. I said I was lying, and her mother scolded me but let her
daughter continue to play with me.
My memories faded with the sunset, and I returned home. Mom looked up from the
table. “How’d it go?”
I shrugged. “Don’t know. They’re going to let people know.”
“You’ll get in.” She smiled at me.
“Mom, you’re always an optimist.” I kissed her cheek and slid into a chair. “What’re
you fixin’?”
“Cuttin’ some vegetables and potatoes for a stew.”
I picked up a peeler and applied it to the side of a potato. No food fabricator on our
counter. Those contraptions were expensive. On the plus side, Mom was an excellent
cook, and we ate better than anyone else on the block. And nothing matched the smell
of food cooking on our old stove.
We sat down for dinner. Torondo smirked at me. “Didn’t get the job, did you?”
Mom laid her fork down. “She doesn’t know yet.” Mom’s voice was firm. She wasn’t
going to allow any teasing.
Torondo mumbled something under his breath.
The next morning a Federation messenger knocked on the door. I opened it, and
she held out a screen. I placed my thumb in the designated spot. “Report at once to the
Psy Corps.” The messenger tucked the screen under her arm.
I stood stock still.
She smiled. “Better get a move on.”
“Oh yes. Right away.”
I popped into the house and bounced on my toes. “Mom, I made it.”
She hugged me.
“I gotta go right away.”
I grabbed my jacket and hopped on my robobike. This time at the entrance to the
spaceport, the guard held up a screen and waved me through. Yep, I’d been entered
into the facial recognition database. I was officially in.
I parked and entered the building. Where only two people sat at a table a day ago,
office partitions divided the space and people hurried around. Did this place have a
receptionist? No one noticed me standing. I pasted a smile on my face. Didn’t do any
good. No one seemed to have time for a newbie like me.
A few minutes later, a harried young man came forward. He glanced at a screen in
his hand and my face. “Ah, Tvella Lotit. Come with me.” He turned and hurried down a
hall.
I followed him into a room. At least twenty people sat at desks. A man in a white
uniform, trimmed with silver stood at the front.
He glanced at me. “Please sit.” He glanced at his wrist computer. “In the future, be
on time.”
“I–”
“Sit.”
I sat in an empty chair near the door.
He explained the functions of the psy box and handed one to each of us. He set up
patterns as in the test.
I zapped them faster than anyone in the room. Hah. All those video games taught
me something useful after all.
The instructor watched me for several minutes. “All right. Turn your psy boxes in.”
He pointed at me. “Stay for a minute.”
The room emptied, and the instructor sat on the corner of his desk, his hands on his
leg. “I noticed you’re the fastest in the room. I need to assign someone from the psy
corps to a small diplomatic delegation to a new alien society. We need to know if they’re
psychic. They give no indication, but this will be a good field test. I’m sure you’ll see
even a fleeting wave form.”
Was this my big chance? Blood pounded in my ears, and I nodded.
“Be ready tomorrow. The spaceship leaves at noon.”
My pulse raced, and I clasped my hands together. My big break.
He glanced from my shoes to my t-shirt. “We have the first of the psy corps
uniforms.” He walked to a locker. “Size?”
“Ten.”
He held out two white with silver trim uniforms. A bolt of lightning zigzagged across
the front.
I quivered. Uniforms. These made me official. I suppressed a smile. “Thank you,
Sir.”
He grunted. “On your way out, pick up your authorization from the front office. That’ll
be all.”
In a daze, I walked to the front office. My smile stretched my lips so hard my cheeks
hurt. “I understand you have something for me.”
A man in a regular navy uniform handed me two info cubes. “Everything is here.
The first contains your authorization as a member of the Psy Corps and your orders
attaching you to the diplomatic mission to Barnega. The second has a translation
program for the Barnegans along with what little information we have about their planet,
mostly orbital scans.”
I strode outside and packed my uniforms with care into my side pouches. I sped
home, breaking the speed limit, and burst into the door. “Mom, I have a mission.”
She clutched her apron. “Where?”
“To Barnega.”
“Where?”
“New alien contact.”
Her eyes widened, and she pressed her hand to her mouth.
“Don’t worry. These aliens aren’t supposed to be psychic. I’m along to make sure
though. The director said he will post us to embassies, legations, and even navy ships
as soon as he thinks we’re proficient with the psy box. We need to be where psychic
danger could be encountered.”
Her brow smoothed. “I better help you get ready.”
“I have two uniforms. I can clean one in the dry shower aboard every spaceship
while I wear one. Maybe one pair of jeans and a couple t-shirts. I don’t know how formal
I’ll have to be. All I need is one small bag.”
The next day Mom dropped me off at the spaceport entrance an hour before
departure. She gave me a final hug. “Write when you can.”
I walked into the cavernous hangar listed on my schedule. A courier spaceship sat
with the gangway down. A woman at the main hatch asked my name and assigned me
to my quarters.
It didn’t take me long to unpack. I sat on the narrow bunk, pulled out a screen, and
played a video game.
The intercom clicked. “Prepare for departure. Strap into your seats.”
My room had a sturdy chair with a pull-down harness. I buckled in.
Shortly a low hum heralded ignition. The acceleration was smooth. The intercom
came on. “Free to unstrap and move around.”
Time to explore. I left my quarters and walked down the passageway to a room with
tables and chairs. Ah, a dining room. Two men with white hair and deeply lined faces
talked to each other. I continued to a lounge with comfortable couches where two
women sat. Their salt and pepper hair was coiffed and their diplomatic uniforms
pressed. Yikes. Everyone on this ship looked old enough to have grandchildren. One of
the women looked up and frowned. “I see our psy corps member showed up.” Her voice
conveyed she considered me a useless encumbrance. The established order never
liked big changes. But the Psy Corps was here to stay. I wasn’t going to to tell them, but
they’d have to get used to the new reality.
It was going to be one lonely trip. Good thing I’d brought lots of video games and
holos.
Two weeks later, the captain announced our arrival at Barnega. We landed, and he
let down the gangway. My first day in an official capacity. My future all to be decided on
one day. I trembled. Could I handle this? I had to. I smoothed my uniform, grabbed my
psy box, and followed the four senior diplomats to the tarmac.
Fragrant flowers in bright, bold colors rimmed the spaceport. In the distance, the
colored spires of a Barnegan city sparkled in the violet hue of their sunlight.
A small group of Barnegans, tall, spindly beings with rainbow-hued skin, greeted us.
I cupped my psy box in my palm. A blip. What? These beings were psychic. I pressed
the appropriate button. Another. I tensed. Then nothing. I glanced around. Maybe only a
few here were psychic. A small blip. Fine. I got it. Several more Barnegans walked
toward the spaceship. The blips lengthened and increased. I pressed a series of
buttons. The Barnegans looked at each other, and the blips changed shape.
A wave of dominating emotions spilled over me, pushing me to my knees. My
fingers shaking, I pressed several buttons. If anything, the wave intensified, the psy box
completely useless. Their emotions poured into me. Never before had I encountered so
much psychic force directed toward me. I was filling up like a balloon. My head bowed. I
laid my hands onto the ground, holding myself up. I couldn’t contain any more. It was
impossible. I would burst.
I forced myself to stand up and let out all those feelings toward them as if I were a
mirror. The more they threw at me, the more I reflected toward them. They stumbled
backward, holding their arms over their heads. My vision turned white. They looked like
they were shrinking as if they were balloons with holes. How curious. They didn’t seem
at all scary now that they were so small. I took several steps forward, the ground
seeming to shake with each step. I held up my arms. “This will stop right now.”
They tilted their heads up as if I’d grown to giant proportions. “Please.” One in the
front row screeched, and my wrist computer translated. “We’re sorry. We won’t do it
again.”
“OK.” I took several deep breaths, letting the emotion dissipate. They rose to their
feet and bowed their heads. “We didn’t know you had the power. We will give you all the
honor you deserve.”
The Federation diplomatic delegation stood frozen, mouths agape. The words
coming from the Barnagans and their actions couldn’t have made any sense.
I turned to the lead diplomat. “I think everything will go smoothly from now on. The
first field experience with the psy box was a success. The locals do have psychic
abilities. The box countered their efforts to take over our minds.”
I’d used my own psychic abilities, but would the diplomats believe I’d used the box?
My whole future depended on their misperceptions. They had to believe in the efficacy
of the psy box and my proficient use of the device.
The head of the Federation mission nodded. “We’ll recommend the new device in
our first report to headquarters.”
Whew. I smiled at the psy box in my hand. No doubt about it, I loved technology.
#
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Psy Corps, EJ Randolph (copyright 2020, all rights reserved.)
