"After that, you continue travelling along the spectrum. There are latents of the second tier. Perhaps savants as well, though we've never confirmed one. You fell into that portion of the spectrum when you fought Agent Davidson. Under duress, you could manifest the second tier of power."

  I shrugged. "I'd argue that it was more conscious than that, but fine."

  "Then, you reach the full second tier of power. There is a gulf of power and potential between them and the first tier, almost as large as the gulf between normal people and psions." She paused. "That is where you fall now, in theory."

  "In theory?"

  "Tell me, Kevin. Have you heard of the third tier of psionic powers?"

  I frowned. "No. Going from what you said, though, they'd be to the second tier psion what second tiers are to firsts. I can't even imagine that."

  "It's difficult to explain," she said. "Our classification of first and second tier isn't even universally accepted, so third tier is purely theoretical at this point. Consider it along these lines. First tier psions have the ability to manipulate things in this reality, yes? They may defy normal thought, but they are generally in line with reality. Second tier psions can manipulate things that aren't strictly part of our reality. A second tier psion may develop precognitive powers, or teleportation, or clairvoyance, or a list of other powers that aren't simply augments of the real world."

  "I could sense the lines of Davidson's attack," I said. "He made his final attack and it was as if time stopped and I could see exactly where they were going, and I could change that."

  Absynthe nodded. "Exactly. Second tier powers truly defy reality, but still relate back to the real world, if only indirectly. You can't teleport to a place you don't know in some fashion. You can't have a precognitive vision of something that doesn't exist, or won't exist. So on and so forth."

  "All right. So what's the third tier?"

  "The third tier can manipulate reality."

  I shook my head. "Sorry, but that's first tier."

  "No. First tier affects things that exist in this reality, be it matter or energy. Memories and thought are chemical processes. Third tier doesn't have a definition for 'things'. The theory says they can manipulate reality itself."

  I held a hand up to stop her. "So what you're saying is that, for example, a first tier psion can overwrite someone's memories. A second tier psion could, say, create a shared memory for multiple people, all at the same time?" She nodded. "And a third tier psion would do what? Recreate reality so that the new memory actually happened?"

  "Yes."

  "That's crazy. That can't be possible. That's literally god-like power."

  "Yes."

  "A human mind can't do that. That's impossible to even comprehend."

  "That is the primary argument against the existence of that level of power, yes." Absynthe gave me a fleeting smile. "The proponents of this theory also state that a third tier psion would no longer be human. They already want to classify psions as homo sapiens superior."

  "I don't even want to get into that level of philosophy," I said. "Though under that theory, it's entirely possible that we all exist solely in the mind of some third tier power that may not even be human."

  "Congratulations, you're thinking right along with them," she said.

  "So now that I have a headache, what does this have to do with me?"

  "A question of perspective, first. The world population is close to seven billion people. How many of those do you believe are psions? What percentage?"

  I shook my head. "One percent?"

  "So you think there are roughly seven hundred thousand psions in the world?" She shook her head. "Half a percent are latent or savant. About point zero two percent are full psions. So there's about a hundred and forty thousand psions. Out of that number, how many do you think are second tier latent or higher?"

  "Maybe five to ten percent?"

  "It's a bit over five percent. Just over eight thousand have known second tier potential. How many of those do you think can actually consciously manifest it?" She didn't wait for my guess. "Three percent, around two hundred and fifty people. Most of them are registered. If there's one thing the psionic world community agrees on, it's keeping second tiers under control. You two hundred and fifty could wreak havoc if you had a mind to. Just a handful could cause an apocalypse. That's why there's a global register, so they can avoid having too many second tiers in one place at one time. You're scary."

  "I don't feel scary," I said.

  "You're especially scary." Absynthe locked her dark eyes on mine. "The third tier theorists have done research for years, checking out the historical records for any possible proof of third tier events. Changes to reality on a very basic level. There are a handful of events they point to. You've probably never heard of any of them, except maybe Tunguska. Esoteric events that you don't think mean anything become meaningful when you know psionics exist."

  "So there's potential proof that third tier exists." I shook my head. "So you're going to tell me I have that potential, right?"

  "What happened with Lisa," she said.

  "In the hospital? When I tried to bring her back?"

  "Yes. That's not possible. Not under first tier power. Not under second tier power. I could see what you were doing, but I couldn't comprehend how you were doing it. I suspect a second tier psion would feel the same way. There is no basis for us to believe that restoring a dead body and consciousness to full life and health is possible. Third tier theorists would take this as a sign that your place on the spectrum is latent for the third tier."

  "How did you help me, then? If you couldn't understand what I was doing?"

  "Transferring consciousness isn't uncommon." She bit her lip. "Oddly, it's common among the untrained. Let me clarify, I couldn't comprehend how you returned a completely dead body to life. I've seen transference, though. Savants especially do it. They'll have an accident and push their mind into someone else's. That's something we take care of. It ends up either driving the original person crazy, or destroying their consciousness. I've had practice acting as a bridge for transferred consciousness before. We're lucky. If you manifested third tier power during the transfer, who knows what might have happened?"

  "I don't even know how to use second tier powers yet!" I protested. "This is getting out of hand, Absynthe."

  "I agree. That's why I've kept it under wraps." She sighed. "I'm not sure why I'm protecting you. You're not loyal to the Establishment, though I'd stop short of calling you a traitor. You have power beyond the wildest dreams of the creators of the Threshold Project. Whatever happens, I don't want to see you treated so unfairly. I saw what Shade and Alistair were putting you through. You're special. As your mother said, remember that."

  "She knows?"

  "Yes."

  "Won't she tell others? Like Alistair?"

  "No," she said. "She knows more than she's told me."

  I shivered. "Great. I appreciate the protection, I really do, but I don't know who to trust now. We have people watching me and my friends, but what if one of them is Alistair's people? Or worse yet, Shade's?"

  "I'm handling the security details as best I can. Trust me."

  "I do, but what if Shade has sleeper agents?"

  She sighed. "Even if he does, he's openly recruiting in the Midwest, which tells me that he doesn't feel he has the manpower to make an actual attempt here. I don't think you're in any danger from sympathizers inside the Establishment."

  "Openly recruiting? Why can't someone just go put two in his head?" I growled deep in the back of my throat. "Even a second tier can't stop bullets if they don't know they're coming."

  "Actually, they could," she said.

  "Bullshit."

  "It would take a very certain type of paranoid to be able to do so."

  "Meaning, Shade."

  "Don't underestimate him. Ever."

  I shook my head and stood up. "It's getting cold out here. Are we done?"

  "Yes. You're keeping up with your exercises?"

  "Sure," I said. I was keeping up on more than her exercises. I was keeping up on Star's exercises as well.

  "Then we'll speak again after finals," she said. With that dismissal, I headed back to the dorm.

  Max and Drew were sitting at their computers when I arrived. "I told you not to click that," Max was saying.

  "It said download!" Drew looked over at me. "What's up, Kev? Max is bitching at me for clicking the wrong thing. I mean, come on, there's like five different places that say download, so I just guessed."

  "You picked the one that was part of a banner!"

  "So? It could have been it!"

  I rolled my eyes and hung my coat up while they argued. "Glad that you two are back on speaking terms."

  They both shut up and turned to look at me. "Well, yeah, we're friends," Max said. "I've been living with this guy for almost three years now. I like him."

  "Whoa, now," Drew said.

  "Shut up." Max's face fell. "Though you do need to apologize to Jess."

  "She needs to apologize to me!"

  "You both need to cool off and apologize." Max shook his head at me. "They got into a shouting match right after you left. Some shit goes deep."

  "I know she's your girlfriend, man, but she was being an absolute bitch right then." Drew held his hands up as Max turned to him. "Look, I know, I'm just saying. I know I was in the wrong too, but I'm still pissed at her for saying those things."

  "Yeah. I'll talk to her later. I'm sure she's taking it out on her computer right now."

  Drew sighed and stood up. "I've got a study group. Can you make sure that thing downloads for later?"

  Max rolled his eyes. "Sure. Study group for your one class? Hardcore."

  "Shut up, Max."

  After Drew left, I sat at my own computer and contemplated going to PSInet even though Max was in the room. I looked over to see him furiously typing a message. I assumed it was to Jess. "So what were they shouting about?"

  He didn't stop typing. "Lisa."

  "Makes sense."

  "What did you have to run out for? You were barely gone a half hour."

  "My mom wanted to see me. Plus my mentor."

  "Anything interesting?"

  I turned in my chair to face him. "I learned how many psions there are in the world, roughly."

  He stopped typing and looked over his shoulder. "How many?"

  "About a hundred and forty thousand."

  "Does that count me?"

  I frowned. Max was latent and untrained, but that didn't mean he was untrainable. "Well, about half a percent of the world's population is like you, but no, you don't count. You don't know how to manifest your power."

  "I've been meaning to ask you." He turned back to his computer, typed something out, smacked the enter key, and turned back to me. "Can't you show me how to do some stuff? I mean, train me and shit. At least the basics?"

  "I've thought about it," I said. "I didn't think it was needed before, and I didn't want to expose you to more danger. That changed. I'll give it a shot, but I want to make sure you know a couple of things first." He nodded.

  "First, you might not be able to do anything. Some people can't figure it out. No promises. Second, the basics are just that, the basics. You won't be able to fight anyone off, so don't even bother. Just run and scream."

  "Run and scream," he repeated. "Sounds like the story of my life."

  "I'm serious. Even a first year trainee is going to be better equipped to deal with trouble. I'll get you started on communication and defense ideas first. The third big one is not to use it publicly, openly, all that. As far as I know, the Establishment can tell where powers are used and how strong they are. If you use them for too long, they can trace it back to you. I've done that myself. We don't want to deal with the questions if they find out you're manifesting."

  "Establishment?"

  "Shit. Yeah. That's my group."

  "Establishment sounds dumb. Is that the full name?"

  "The Establishment for Psionic Order."

  He snorted. "That's even worse. Sounds like a super villain organization. Vaguely threatening if you read it the wrong way."

  "I said something similar when I heard it."

  "So, I agree to all three of those points. Show me something, master."

  "Master?"

  "Sensei?"

  "Don't," I said. "Just stop. Look. There's no going back, Max."

  "No big deal."

  His relaxed attitude tipped my annoyance into anger. "Stop being a smartass. Let me make it clear. There's no going back. You won't be normal anymore. You'll never be able to have a normal life. You'll be separate from the majority of humanity for the rest of your life. Some people won't even consider you human.

  "Eventually, a faction's going to find out you have powers. They'll train you. You're not going to get a choice. Rogue psions don't live long. You don't have any protection. They might offer you a deal, they might force you, or they might blackmail you. They'll force you to do things. You'll have to cover those things up from your friends and family. You'll have to learn to lie a lot. You'll have to learn to change memories.

  "And you know what, Max? You might have to kill." I paused to see if his expression changed. His lips twitched, but otherwise, nothing. "I had to. It was in defense of another. You might have to do horrible things to people. You might have to destroy lives. You might have to hurt people you love. Look at Star. She had to fake her own death just to make sure her family wasn't used against her."

  "I understand this better than you think I do," he said.

  I leaned forward. "Max. You might have to leave Jess. You might have to erase yourself from her memory. Tell me, are you ok with that?"

  He took a deep breath and sat up straight. "Yeah, you're right, down the line it might turn out worse. All that shit might happen. But right now, she's in danger, just like the rest of us, and I'm going to regret it for the rest of my life if I don't learn something now. I need to protect her now. I'll take possible future regrets, because I'd never be able to live with myself if something happened to her now and I was powerless to prevent it!" His voice rose at the end and I leaned back away from him. He leaned in. "Kev. I want to learn this. Teach me."

  I couldn't say no to that. "All right. Sit back and relax. I'm going to try and awaken you." He didn't question me, simply leaned back and closed his eyes. I tapped into my power, keeping it level and controlled. I'd read about potential techniques to awaken latents. There wasn't any consistency to the reports. My only experience had been Shade hammering my mind from time to time. That seemed inefficient.

  Still, it was a starting point. I traced lines of potential into Max's mind with my Sight and pushed. Mental defenses snapped into place, an automatic response. His blocks were strong. I pushed harder and they didn't give one bit. "Can you feel anything?" I asked.

  "Not a thing."

  I whispered into his mind with telepathy. His defenses didn't react. "Can you feel anything when I use telepathy?"

  "Only the hairs on the back of my neck standing up. It's still creepy."

  I reconsidered my options. Some research said that frequent mental assaults would provoke a latent's mind to awaken in self-defense. That was probably what Shade had done. Others said that one heavy hit could be enough to jar someone's potential to life. Other techniques were heavy on the biokinetic parts, involving direct stimulation of portions of the brain that were associated with psionic powers. All those techniques had potential side effects. Some of them were outright dangerous.

  "I'm going to give you one good hard hit," I said.

  "Physically?"

  "No." I turned my power up high and pooled it into one heavy strike, then slammed into Max's defenses. The block withstood the blow without even quivering. Mental assaults were such a waste of time. "Did you feel anything there?"

  "Not really, but I feel a headache coming on."

  That was some sort of progress, but I didn't want to take any risks. If I smashed through his defenses with too heavy a blow, it could cause actual damage. There had to be a safer way. I had all sorts of power ready to go, but I couldn't figure something as simple as this out? Using the second tier would unleash all sorts of hell upon me. I knew I could slip around his mental defenses in no time that way, but that would have to be my last resort.

  What if I could simulate the potential attacks without actually forcing my way through? I divided my mind into a dozen threads, similar to how I had during Star's exercise, and then shoved one toward Max's mind. The defenses reacted. Each individual thread was weak, but they were strong enough to provoke the reaction I wanted. "All right, I've got an idea. Let me know if you feel anything, even a headache."

  "Whatever you say."

  I clenched my teeth and concentrated. Keeping the threads controlled was difficult, and keeping them at the proper strength to hit his defenses without causing any damage made it even more difficult. Once I had them controlled, I started hitting him. The defenses reacted to each strike. I shifted the attack to be sequential, hitting him with each thread in turn, forcing the defense to shift with every move.

  "Ouch." He shook his head. "Definite headache coming on now. I'm afraid to ask what you're doing."

  "Hitting you."

  "It's really starting to hurt."

  "It hurt for me too."

  "I don't think." He took a sharp breath. "Shit. Kev, stop. This is more than just a headache."

  I didn't stop. I could feel something stirring behind his defenses. "Make me."

  "Stop!"

  "Use what you've got and make me."

  His defenses split and reformed, reinforced, a glittering trail of energy connecting them to the power now surging through his mind. I hit him one more time and he hit back, pushing me out of his mind with enough force to make me rock back in my chair. "I said stop!"

 

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