Author’s note

As always, my thanks go to Dr Mark, for his tireless efforts in editing the story, and to you guys for not getting bored and wandering off.

KR

PM

­­­­­Chapter 53 – Back to school.

Tatarabuela Gonzales, or at least the part of her consciousness that had been copied into my mind as my protection, regarded me steadily.

“You have questions?” she asked.

I did. A myriad of questions. The first of which was what the hell was she? Was she a consciousness within my own? A second personality? How was there even space in my head for the two of us? Did I need to worry about her trying to usurp control of my body from me?

I didn’t think so, but I didn’t know.

It seemed that I didn’t need to voice my concerns. She could hear my thoughts.

“What I am,” she said, “is a fragment of the consciousness of Elana Maria Theresa Gonzales. I was created originally to protect the children of the Gonzales line. I have a very limited capacity to act. I can access your powers to defend you against physical attacks within your body, I can neutralize poisons or drugs, and defend against mental attacks. I can even heal damage from physical attacks using your own healing powers, but only within you. I cannot affect anything outside of your body, even with your powers. I am always here, always awake, and always on guard. I see and hear everything you do. I know everything you do.

“Can you teach me about powers?” I asked. “About Compulsion?”

“You already know all you need to know,” she said. “If I could teach you, then that would mean that the knowledge you needed was within me, or more accurately already inside of your own head.”

“But…”

“You don’t need more knowledge. Your first teacher told you everything you needed to know, but you seem to have, if not forgotten it, disregarded it.

“He told you, for instance, about subtle Compulsion. He taught you how to get someone to do something, not by brute force but by nudges, slight little tweaks to their thoughts that make them WANT to do what you want them to. When did you last do this? Since you left his instruction, you have been training your strength, and your endurance, both of which are essential. But you have ignored the one thing that would make the greatest difference. Train more using subtlety and you will notice that your energy usage with Compulsion will decrease dramatically.

“Sadly, this doesn’t hold true for Healing. Since cells do not have conscious minds you can ‘tweak’ you do need to use force to Heal.”

I considered this. I remembered the lesson with John where we spoke about subtle Compulsion but then things seemed to go sideways and I simply fell back into imagining an outcome. Brute force.

“Also,” she went on, “Compulsion subjects, even willing ones, fight the Compulsion. It’s an instinctive reaction that cannot be suppressed. That is one reason it takes so much energy, is so easily detected, and leaves behind so much evidence. Subtle Compulsion, done right, is virtually undetectable. It takes almost no energy since you are not fighting with the subject to achieve your aims; rather you are, in effect, persuading them that they want to do, whatever it is that you want them to do.”

“I need to protect my girls,” I said, “especially the Norms. How can I do that? Ness nearly got raped again and I could do nothing to stop him.”

“You allowed his Compulsion to block your connection,” she said. “Granted you were further away, but you could have broken his Compulsion on Ness quite easily. All you needed to do was to Compel her yourself through the bond. That would have broken his control, and then you could simply release her and use the connection to deal with him, as you did with those boys all those months ago. Since you have a direct connection already established with the girls, Compelling them, even at distance, would be simple and would displace any other control held by anyone not so connected.”

I sat and thought about that for a few moments.

I was disappointed. I had thought that having the consciousness of the Tatarabuela Gonzales would have given me someone from whom I could learn so much, but she was right. If that was the case, I’d already have the knowledge in my head, why would I need to ‘speak’ to her to get it?

“I can’t give you any more than you already have,” she said, apparently hearing that thought too. “You speak Spanish because I know how. I didn’t have to teach you. But perhaps I can ask questions that you are already asking yourself, and help you to a better understanding of what you already know. For instance, why are you wasting so much resource during your hypnotherapy sessions?”

“Wasting resource?” I asked.

“You have hypnotised probably over a hundred different people, yes?” she asked, and I nodded.

“It is likely that each of those people,” she continued, “had some knowledge, or skill, that you do not. Why are you not taking those since you are already in their minds. You could have the ability to speak multiple languages, have sat practically every single course that your university provides, and learned about all kinds of things. And yet you sit there, twiddling your thumbs and wasting your time, with them.”

“I…” I began. Why was that. I could say that it would be a violation, but what exactly would I be violating. It’s not like I would be taking anything from them, or prying into their personal or private lives. I could easily extract all the memories of a specific subject exactly as I had with Daisy and her cooking. I didn’t have a moment’s hesitation in doing that, and my hypnotherapy clients signed a very similar waiver. I could have already learned so much.

“You spend so much time agonizing over morality and ethical issues,” she continued. “This is time wasted. Jeevan summed it up in a simple question. Are you causing harm? If the answer to that question is ‘yes’, then stop and re-evaluate your actions. There may be excellent reasons why it’s right, at that time, to cause harm, but if the answer is ‘no’, then there is nothing more to consider.

“I am not suggesting you approach people in the street and start rummaging around in their heads for their knowledge, but all of your hypnotherapy patients have consented, in a fashion, to you entering their minds. You need to be in there in any case to help them. You are not violating them further, if you take a copy of their learning, or knowledge, at the same time.”

It kind of made sense in a twisted logical sort of way. I determined to think on this further and, perhaps, in the next hypnotherapy session look to see what I might learn from my client.

“Practice subtle Compulsion,” she said. “Stop hitting everything with the biggest hammer you have and perhaps use a scalpel for a change. Practice on Josh and Louise. You need to get to where they do things and do not even know you compelled them. This will, of course, not feed their fantasies, but you have done enough of that. Like your TK, your Compulsion is about as strong as it’s going to get. Over the next few years you may gain ten percent more power, but that will be as much as you will ever have. It is time to practice skill and, more importantly, stealth.”

And with that she, once again, kicked me out of my own illusion. I would have to ask her how she did that, but then realized that I already knew.

I looked at my watch – it was just after five. I decided to go for a run.

+++++

“What are you doing today?” I asked Ness over breakfast. I wasn’t sure if the previous day’s events had changed things at her college.

“We’ve been called in to a cadre meeting,” said Ness. “Apparently the cadre leader has left the college. . .they didn’t say why. . .and we need to meet our new leader and get our schedules.”

I thought about that. I wondered what Maggie had told the college about the professor and why he had been arrested, and what the college was going to do about it. Since none of the students, apart from Ness, remembered the incident, I thought that they might simply continue on as if nothing happened. I couldn’t figure out what the alternatives were.

The other girls had classes today, and so, technically, did I. I’d already decided that, once again, I would attend my Ethics classes, as there was a mandatory attendance criterion, but would simply read the material and do any assignments and exams for the others. If I ran into any problems, which I didn’t envision, I would reevaluate my attendance position.

Gracie had an appointment with Dianna to assess her mental state following the attack. She was looking forward to getting back into things.

Mary had asked for permission to start scheduling hypnotherapy appointments, and I had provisionally said yes having given her my school schedule. My first appointment would be the following day after my Ethics class.

After everyone had left, I hit the internet looking for contractors. I wanted someone I could trust to come and do the job without having to be supervised. Since we were all in school, and I had a full calendar, I was hoping to get someone we’d be able to leave to get on with it without us having to be here.

I realized that this might be a pipedream but I was at least willing to give it a try. If not, we’d have to make other arrangements.

I spent the morning making calls and managed to set up a couple of people to come and look at the job that afternoon.

Having gotten that underway, I sat down on the deck, pulled out the first of my textbooks, and started to read.

I kind of lost track of time, and was jerked out of my concentration, having read about a quarter of my textbook, when I heard someone knocking at the door.

When I opened it there was a guy standing there in a suit holding some kind of tablet computer. Outside, parked on the road, was a BMW that looked like a five or seven series from where I stood.

“Mr. Stott?” he said. I nodded.

“Avery Cameron,” he said. “Blackheath Construction. I believe you spoke to one of our sales team this morning about some remodelling you wanted a price on?”

I was surprised.

I’d deliberately not called what I considered big companies and yet it seemed that I’d gotten one in any case. Perhaps they were wise to people wanting to hire local so were masquerading as a local company to get their foot in the door.

“Come in,” I said. Since he was here, I figured I may as well get a price from him. It would give me a starting point at least.

I showed him around and, as he took measurements, he was constantly tapping the screen of his computer.

“Small job,” I heard him think. “I can put Hernandez’s team on it. Let’s see if they can get something right for a fucking change. If it all goes ass up, then it’s no big loss.”

I decided then that I’d not be hiring this guy.

He smiled at me.

“Perfect,” he said. He looked at his tablet and tapped a couple more times. “You’re in luck. I have a cancellation, which means I’ve a team standing idle starting Monday. I could squeeze you in right away. Your job should only take about two weeks.”

“Or two fucking months if that useless wetback performs to his usual standard,” he thought. “It won’t matter though; if he screws this up, I’ll finally have the excuse to fire his ass.”

He smiled at me again. “Shall I book you in?”

“You still haven’t told me the price,” I said.

He tapped a few more times on his tablet and then turned it to face me. I was surprised at the figure. I’d been expecting more.

“To start with,” he thought.

“I have to discuss it with my fiancée,” I said. “Can you email met the quote so I can show her?”

“I can only hold this price if you use the cancelled slot,” he said. “I have a couple more appointments today, so if one of those decides they want to go ahead…” he left the threat hanging.

I smiled and spread my hands. “Sadly, I can’t make the decision without her. We’ll just have to take the chance.”

He sighed and nodded. “I’ll get the office to send you the quote.”

I showed him out. He shook my hand. “Nice doing business with you,” he said. I realized why when I saw another vehicle parked in front of the house. It was a contractor’s van, and there was someone just getting out of it.

He turned and strode off to his BMW and got in, taking a moment to tap on his tablet again before driving away.

“Mr. Stott?” I looked at the person who had walked up the drive and was surprised to see a woman. She looked to be in her late twenties, perhaps early thirties. She was dressed in jeans, a T-shirt and a sleeveless vest jacket with a number of pockets.

“Marcia Grey,” she said holding her hand out, “we spoke on the phone?”

I remembered talking to her. I had thought that I was talking to a secretary, not to the actual contractor. I smiled at her and shook her hand.

I immediately liked Marcia Grey. She had a plain face, eyes a little too far apart, and nose a little too big, but she had a ready smile, although I sensed some tension behind it.

“It looked like you and Mr. Cameron had reached agreement,” she said. “Did you still need me to look at the job?”

“Please say yes, please say yes,” I heard her think.

“Can I be honest with you?” I asked her and she nodded.

“I wouldn’t hire that slimeball if HE paid ME.” I grinned at her.

I felt some tension leave her. And she grinned back.

“Let me guess,” she said. “He just happened to have a cancellation meaning he could start your job Monday?”

“You’ve read his script?” I asked and she laughed.

“Kind of. I’ve followed after him a couple of times. You’d be surprised how often people fall for that line.”

“So, you don’t have a cancellation starting Monday?” I asked.

“I already finished my last job,” she said. “I’m a one-woman operation. I don’t take on more than I can handle. I’ve got a job due to start in a month, so thought I could fit you in if we can reach agreement.”

“You work alone?” I asked and she nodded.

“I occasionally hire day labourers, but not often. I find they are more trouble than they are worth. It takes me a little longer sometimes, but I’d rather do it myself and get it right.”

“What about lifting and shifting heavy stuff?” I asked.

“I manage,” she said, and despite my feelings of trust, I felt that she was hiding something.

“Come on in and take a look at what we’re looking for,” I said. She smiled and followed me into the house.

I showed her around and told her what our goal was. She suggested that we could actually create ensuites into both rooms, putting a shower, washbasin, and toilet in each. We would lose four feet off each of the three rooms to provide what would feel like remarkably spacious ensuites. She said that the middle room, which was Gracie and Dana’s, would require a whole new floor, but the other two we could get away with just lifting it back, if we were careful. The exterior wall of the first bathroom could have a window if we wanted, but the other one would need proper venting. In truth they both would, or we’d have a problem with dampness and mold.

I made coffee while she went out to her truck and brought back some bathroom fittings brochures for me to choose from. She said that she could leave them with me so that my fiancée could choose and tell me which ones I had to buy. She grinned at me as she said that.

I still had the feeling that she was keeping something from me, but as strange as it was, I didn’t feel that it was truly a deception. It felt more like something personal to her that she didn’t want to reveal. My thoughts immediately went to Dana, and I wondered if Marcia too was trans. Not that it was relevant, or even any of my business.

“Okay,” I said, “enough of the soft soap, do I need to sit down for this bit?”

“Perhaps even lie down,” she said. “In fact, I’d call EMT’s to be on standby.”

I laughed. “Aren’t you supposed to be telling me how cheap it’s going to be?”

“I don’t lie to my customers,” she said. “It isn’t going to be cheap. But, it will add value to the house. Most of the space you are losing in the bedrooms is actually not useful space in any case. People like ensuites these days and a five bed/five bath will sell easier than a five bed/three bath.”

“Now you’re stalling,” I deadpanned. She laughed.

“Depending on the fittings you choose,” she qualified, “materials will cost between this and this.” She’d jotted a couple of figures down. That number in and of itself was more than Avery Cameron had quoted for the entire job. That didn’t surprise me.

“And labor?” I asked.

I could see the wheels turning in her head. She wanted this job, but she had bills to pay. I saw her think of a number, and then start to figure out how to trim it down. Eventually she wrote a number down that was significantly lower. I wondered why she would work for so little money.

I shook my head. “That doesn’t really work for me,” I said.

She chewed her lip for a second. And wrote down another number, a few thousand less.

I shook my head again. She sighed.

“Rather than all this,” I said, “why don’t I set a figure, and you see if you can work with it.”

“Okay,” she said, handing me the pen.

I wrote a number, or rather THE number. The one she’d originally come up with. That was what she really needed to earn to make doing the job worthwhile and to meet her own commitments. . .to live.

I turned the paper toward her.

She frowned.

“I don’t understand,” she said. “That’s more than…”

“I’d be pissed at you,” I said, “if you short changed me on my job, if you used substandard materials, or if you performed shoddy work. I expect quality work, therefore I expect to pay quality prices.”

She sat back in her seat for a moment and looked at me.

“Well,” she said, “that’s not something you hear every day. Most people want the quality work but aren’t prepared to pay for it.”

“Well, I am,” I said. “But that means I definitely expect to get the quality work. Does that work for you?”

She smiled. “That definitely works for me,” she said. “Question, are you in a HOA or is there one on the street? Do I need to apply for permission from the local Fuhrer to do my job?”

“No,” I said. “There’s no HOA. There is a guy across the street who likes to be in everyone’s business, but he shouldn’t bother you.”

“Okay then,” she said. “I’ll print up the quote and contract and email it to you as soon as I get home. If you’re happy, or more importantly your fiancée is happy, sign on the dotted and send it back. I can start Monday. I’ll need to know by close of business tomorrow either way, not for any other reason than it takes a few days to organise a dumpster and the permits to put it on the road. I presume you don’t want it carving up your driveway?”

“I’d rather it not,” I said.

“Then,” she replied standing up, “I’ll get out of your way. All things being equal, I’ll be here Monday morning at eight to start work. It would help if you could clear all the furniture out, if possible. I can work around some of it in the outer rooms, but I really need the middle room clear to lift the floor and lay the new one.”

Just then, the front door opened and all four of my girls entered, followed by Dana.

“Marcia,” I said standing also. “Perfect timing. I’d like to introduce you to Mary, Amanda, Jules, Ness and Dana.”

Marcia looked from girl to girl, her mouth slightly open. I felt a wash of arousal from her, especially when she looked at the twins.

Amanda grinned at her “Nice to meet you, Marcia,” she said. “I hope he’s not been giving you too much of a hard time.”

“Not at all,” Marcia answered. “He’s been a pleasure to deal with. I’ve given him some brochures for you guys to look at.”

“Actually,” I said, “Dana and Gracie should choose what will be going in their room,” I said. “The other I guess Ness…”

Marcia looked from girl to girl.

“I’d best be going,” she said. “I’ll send that paperwork this evening. If you’re happy, please let me know, and if so, I’ll see you Monday.”

“Perfect,” I said. She held her hand out to me again, and we shook. I walked her to the door and let her out.

“Well,” said Mary, “she’s nice.”

“I think she liked you two,” I said. Mary and Amanda both grinned. “We saw,” she said.

“Hell, even I saw,” said Ness. “She practically creamed her panties when she saw you.”

“Well,” said Mary, “Who knows. If she does a good job, maybe we’ll give her a little bonus.”

Dana, standing off to one side, shook her head, a small smile on her face.

+++++

It seemed that My Ethics professor hadn’t lost his line into my life.

“Last week,” he said, “my neighbour had to have his dog put to sleep. The poor thing had cancer and the vet said that it was the kindest thing to do. There are very few people who argue that when an animal is in that much distress, that it is wrong to end their suffering. Yet there are only eleven states in the US where physician assisted dying is legal. The prima facie case is that people’s lives are more important than animals, although there are millions of animal lovers who would disagree, and a huge number of animal rights activists who have, indeed , taken human lives to protect animals. But that aside, how is it that we cannot stand to watch the suffering of a pet, but are prepared to watch members of our own species, our own kind, our own families, suffer terribly and not offer them the same respite we would give a stray dog?”

That promoted a storm of responses. I sat back, thinking about Maud, of how we’d helped her. Then I heard the argument that I knew would come up.

“It says in the bible, Thou shalt not kill,”

“For a book that says thou shalt not kill,” I said, “There are a lot of death sentences; Luke 19:27 killing defeated enemies, Second Chronicles 15:12 killing unbelievers, Deuteronomy 17, killing heretics, Leviticus 20:13 killing homosexuals, and 20:10 killing adulterers, Exodus 22;19 the punishment for bestiality? Death.”

Religion and the bible had come up a lot in ethics and it seemed to be everyone’s backstay. I’d decided that in order to be able to argue against the people who blindly quoted it, I needed to know what was in it, so I read it.

I’d also read the Quran and, just for shits and giggles, the Book of Mormon.

“So which bit of the bible do we believe?” I asked. “The bit that says not to kill, or the swathes of it that condone, advocate, and even orders killing?”

“Let’s not get side-tracked,” said the professor. “For the purposes of this debate we will ignore the theist argument. Let’s approach this from a legal standpoint. Why is it legal in 11 states in the US and not in the others?”

“I’m sorry, Professor,” I said, “but you cannot separate the two. Religion is precisely why so many states in the US have refuse to make physician-assisted death legal. To instruct us to ignore the theist argument removes eighty percent of the argument against.”

The professor grinned at me.

“That still leaves twenty percent,” he said. “Let’s hear those arguments.”

“There’s a risk that it could be used for nefarious purposes,” said Dana, “for example, families could kill off their aged relatives for the inheritance.”

“That would be easily countered,” I said, “with the correct checks and safeguards.”

“I take it, Mr Stott,” said the professor, “that you are in favour of euthanasia?”

“I’m not in favour,” I said, “of having someone I love living out their last days or more, in fear, desperation, and tearing agony, when, as you said at the beginning, we wouldn’t allow a stray dog to suffer in such a way. Once I was certain that there was no way back, and that was what they wanted, then the law, the church, and all of those busybodies who like to insert themselves into others’ lives, for no other reason than to validate their own sad little existence, would not stop me from doing what I thought was right.”

The professor looked at me for a long second. The entire room was silent.

+++++

“Caleb,” said Dana as we left the room. “Are you all right?”

I smiled at her, a little wearily, and nodded as we walked down the corridor. She took my hand and pulled me to a stop, turning me toward her.

“That sounded personal in there,” she said. “Was there someone…?”

I shook my head. “I just get sick of the bible bashers,” I said, “trying, and succeeding, in running my life. If they want to believe in their imaginary friend, then that’s their choice. The fact that their imaginary friend’s rules are forced upon me and mine really really pisses me off.”

She looked at me for a second and then nodded. We began walking and went into the cafeteria to get some lunch.

I had my first hypnotherapy session after lunch. The guy, who came alone, against instruction, was short, and very fat. He was also very obviously Chinese. I wondered if he knew the language.

It turns out he did, Cantonese at least, and after the session, I had a headful of memories which meant that after a couple of days, so would I.

I didn’t try and take anything from my next client, since I would run the risk of overflowing my short-term memory and losing the Cantonese I had stolen from the first, so instead I simply read from my textbook while he and his chaperone ‘napped.’

One thing I found about learning languages this way was that you learned not only the language, but the slang and idioms that were the difference between a native speaker and a foreigner who learned to speak the language. Once I’d assimilated it, I would speak Chinese as if I’d grown up there. I also found out that Cantonese was a very satisfying language to swear in.

The rest of the week passed without incident. I had several hypnotherapy sessions but, since I had still not assimilated the mass of information I had taken from the Chinese guy, I didn’t take anything from any of them. I was beginning to think that I’d bitten off more than I could chew, and that I would start to lose the information as time wore on, but by Saturday morning I had finally ‘gulped down’ the last of his memories. My short-term storage was now in the process of clearing the backlog. That included all the reading I’d done and I’d been concerned that I might lose some of that too.

We spent all day Saturday moving the furniture out of the bedrooms that were going to be remodelled. Jules also sheeted up and taped off her workbench and cleared a load of junk from the other side of her workroom. I wasn’t sure how she’d managed to accumulate so much, but it took a trip to the city dump to get rid of it.

Most of the furniture we managed to put in the attic space, but there were one or two items that wouldn’t fit through the access. Those items we put in the garage and covered them with plastic to keep them clean.

It had been decided earlier in the week that we would go up and see Nana Babi on Sunday. Josh and Louise took Louise’s car, and the rest of us piled into my truck. Traffic was light and we made the trip in just under two hours.

When we pulled into the driveway, the front door opened, and Claire stood there with a beaming smile on her face. We all piled out of our vehicles and went to give her a hug. There was something different about her. She seemed far more relaxed than she had been previously.

“Nana Babi has been looking forward to you coming since you told me,” said Claire as we walked across the entrance hall, and into the room where the old woman sat. Once again, she had a book in her lap.

We all went in, and Louise and Josh both went over to the old girl and gave her a hug. Once they were done, I too went and hugged the old buzzard. I really liked Nana Babi and it had nothing to do with the huge gift she’d given me for my birthday. She was a no-nonsense person with whom you knew exactly where you stood.

Once the greetings were over, we sat down, and Nana Babi picked up a little bell and rang it.

I’d not noticed that bell before and wondered about it. Claire was sitting in a chair off to the side, and she didn’t react to the bell.

The door behind Nana Babi opened and Keenan entered.

He was dressed in a French maid’s uniform, complete with frilly hat, black thigh length dress with a white apron over the front. He was wearing fishnet stockings and kitten heel shoes. He looked livid.

I had to check, and found that he wasn’t actually under any form of Compulsion, but there were some constraints applied to his mind. I would have to ask Nana Babi about those.

“Yes, Mistress?” Keenan said, bobbing a curtsy.

“Tea for our guests,” she said.

“Yes, Mistress,” he said again and bobbed another curtsy before leaving the room.

“He signed up for it,” she said before I could ask. “He and I had a long chat after your birthday. I told him that that kind of behavior was not acceptable, and I would no longer consider him a part of my family unless he did some things to atone. He had the choice to serve as my maid for five years, or I would completely disown him and cut him out of my will.”

“And the blocks on his mind?” I asked.

“A friend of my first husband,” she said. “He is completely unable to act to harm me or anyone else. He can’t so much as glare in anyone’s direction until they are removed. Again, they were part of the contract and he agreed to that too. Those blocks will be removed when he leaves my service, although the ones stopping him from harming or causing harm to come to me will only be removed on my death.”

I felt the sofa shaking and looked across to see tears of laughter rolling down Josh’s cheeks. Louise, too, was grinning like a maniac.

I still thought that he’d gotten off lightly. Five years of service to an old lady was hardly onerous, especially when doing that would net him a tidy sum at the end of it. Claire had been looking after Nana Babi for fifteen years or more, and she hadn’t done a thing wrong. I decided that he deserved something more. . .and I would deal it out.

He came back in with the tea tray, and poured it out, handing out cups and offering plates of cakes and pastries. I took the tea and a couple of pastries. I was hungry all of a sudden.

We spent longer than we probably should have at Nana Babi’s, but we all had a great time visiting with her. We told her that once we’d got the remodelling done, she should come stay with us for a while, we’d look after her, and she could lock Keenan in his kennel for her time away. That amused her greatly.

On the journey back Ness spoke.

“I still think he got off easy,” she said. “If he’d been arrested for raping Lou he’d be in prison, not living in a luxury mansion. A pretty boy like him would be someone’s bitch so he’d probably be wearing a dress and makeup in any case. Besides that, he’s still going to get his inheritance.”

I shrugged. “Who knows,” I said. “What goes around comes around, and Karma can be a real bitch.”

I was out on the deck the following morning, when my phone beeped. It was Nana Babi. I wasn’t surprised, but was surprised she’d messaged me direct.

­_How big? She asked.

­_two inches. I replied.

_Is that sufficient punishment?

­_In addition to what he’s doing for you, yes.

_That’s fair. Thank you.

I finished my training, and smiling slightly to myself went in to start breakfast.

Everyone was up, breakfasted, and ready to go when Marcia arrived to start work. I had a several hypnotherapy sessions at the gun range, but they didn’t start until eleven. The others left for their various activities of the day with Gracie, once more, going into the field office.

“Did you eat breakfast?” I asked Marcia. She looked at me sideways.

“Not yet,” she said. “I usually get something around lunchtime.”

“You need to eat,” I said. “Sit.” I indicated one of the seats at the table, and spent five minutes making her some breakfast.

I placed the plate in front of her.

“Coffee?” I asked. She nodded and I got her coffee too.

“So,” I said, “where do we start?”

She talked through her plan. She was hoping that she’d be able to get the demolition work done in a day. That would mean less mess later on, and also she could return the dumpster. Any other trash she could take away in her truck.

“So it’s taking two walls down completely, lifting the floor in the middle room, and part of the floors in the other two rooms?”

She nodded.

“This is really good,” she said. “Your fiancée is a lucky woman.”

I grinned. “I’m the lucky one,” I said.

“Right answer,” she grinned back at me. “Which of them is it?”

I paused for a moment wondering what to tell her, but then thought what the hell.

“You remember them all?” I asked. “Mary, Amanda, Jules and Ness?”

She nodded looking at me expectantly.

“So, which one?” she asked when I didn’t speak for a while.

“All four of them,” I said.

She stared at me. Then grinned uncertainly. “You’re kidding?”

I shook my head. “Did you not notice they were all wearing identical rings?”

“How is that possible?” she said. “They’re all gorgeous.”

I smiled. “I know,” I said. “Like I said. I’m the lucky one.”

She sat for a moment stunned. Then went back to eating, a thoughtful look on her face.

There was a knock on the front door, and I answered it to find a man in coveralls standing there, and a truck with a dumpster on the back parked behind him on the road.

“Dumpster’s here,” I shouted, and Marcia came to the door to talk to the driver and tell him where to unload the dumpster.

I cleared away the breakfast dishes and loaded the dishwasher. After about fifteen minutes Marcia returned.

“Your friend across the road was not very happy,” she said. “He wanted to see my permit for the dumpster.”

“I hope you told him to fuck off,” I said. “It’s none of his business.”

She grinned at me. “I did,” she said. “But I’ll bet there’ll be police here soon enough.”

“Right,” I said. “I’m all yours for the next hour. What can we do?”

She looked sideways at me.

“You want to work?” She asked.

“Yep,” I said.

“Right then,” she said with a grin. “Let’s see how good you are.”

She spent ten minutes putting floor protection down and then she started.

“I’ll chop,” she said. “You carry. I’ll be pulling the sheetrock down in the middle room. It all needs to go in the dumpster.”

I spent the next forty five minutes laboring for her. As she demolished the walls in the middle room, I noted that although she went right through into the bedroom on one side, she didn’t into Jules’ workshop. I wondered why.

“I’m going to screen that off,” she said. “Try and keep the mess minimal in there for her.”

I was just finished showering and had gotten dressed to go to my hypnotherapy appointment when the police turned up.

“Hi,” I said opening the door.

“We’ve…” he began.

“Had a complaint from Tom Pritchard about an illegal dumpster causing an obstruction in the road,” I finished for him.

He raised his eyebrow.

“He’s a prick,” I said. “Who used to be the chair of the HOA until it was forcibly disbanded, and now he busies himself harassing his neighbours.”

“He said you didn’t have a permit,” The officer said.

“Not true,” said Marcia who had come out and was holding a piece of paper in her hand. She showed it to the officer.

The officer nodded. “That seems to be in order. Any idea why he would tell us you didn’t?”

“Probably because we refused to show it to him,” I said.

“Why?” asked the officer.

“Mainly,” I said, “because it’s none of his business. He is not any kind of official, law enforcement officer, or anything to do with anyone that has a right to ask.”

The other officer noticed the Glock in the holster on my belt. As Dean had requested, I’d started carrying it when I wasn’t going onto campus. PSU didn’t allow firearms.

“Do you have a permit for that?” he asked.

I pulled out my wallet and showed him my CCP and my FBI ID.

“FBI?” he said. I heard Marcia draw a shocked breath behind me but didn’t react.

“Only a consultant,” I said. “I’m hoping to join when I graduate.”

“What’s Mr. Pritchard’s beef with you?” asked the other officer.

“I refused to join his HOA,” I said. “Then he tried to blackmail me. That backfired on him. A judge ruled that his HOA was not legal and disbanded it. I was kind of instrumental in that.”

Both officers nodded.

“Okay then,” he said. “I’m going to log this as a malicious call. I saw on the system that he’s done this before. If he does it a third time, I would suggest a restraining order.”

“Thanks,” I said. “That’ll help. It’s like he has nothing better to do.”

“Some people are like that,” said the officer as they walked back to their car.

I closed the door.

“I have to go out for a while,” I said. “Help yourself to whatever you want from the kitchen. I’ll probably be back around four.”

She nodded and smiled; her aura told of nerves. I wondered what her deal was. Finding out I was associated with the FBI had been a shock for her, I considered taking a look, but decided against it. I’d speak to her when I came back.

I backed my truck out of the garage and set off for the range.

My phone beeped.

­­­­­_Just had an email from your first appointment. They can’t make it. So, you’re free until one.

From Mary.

I sighed. That was a pain. I wish they’d told me earlier; I could have worked longer.

I contemplated what to do. If I went back to the house, I’d be tempted to pitch in again, but that would mean getting changed again and another shower. Or I could go back, and sit on the deck reading. We were paying Marcia after all to do the job. I wasn’t obliged to help her.

I decided that’s what I’d do and turned my truck around.

I pulled onto the drive, since it was empty, and went in through the open front door. I could hear banging and almost like a ripping noise coming from the bedroom. I wondered how far she had got and went to poke my head in.

Marcia was standing just inside the doorway of the middle bedroom. She seemed engrossed in what she was doing and didn’t hear me approach. It was only when I got closer, and could see through the door, that I saw what was going on. Half the floor in the bedroom was lifted, and a square yard of the other half was in the process of being lifted, by Marcia’s TK.

“Nice,” I said conversationally. Marcia screamed and spun to face me. She looked terrified.

“I was just…” she began.

“Lifting the floor with TK,” I said. “Having that must make your job easier.”

She stared at me wide-eyed.

“I don’t know what you think you saw,” she said.

“I saw you doing this,” I said reaching out with my own TK and lifting the rest of the floor in one go. I folded the wood up together and collected all of the wood from the floor she had already lifted together. I piled it all up neatly.

“You’re…” she began.

“I’m a user too,” I said gently. “And no threat to you.”

“But the FBI?” she began.

I took her hand and led her into the kitchen, closing the front door as we passed. I pointed to one of the counter chairs and started making coffee. All the time gently projecting trust, safety, and security.

“How long have you known you’ve had power?” I asked.

“I found out when I was about seven” she said. “I accidentally pushed my cousin out of a window. Fortunately, we were only on the first floor, so he didn’t get hurt, just dirty.”

“Is it just TK or do you have others?”

“I can make people feel more at ease around me,” she said. “But that’s all.”

“Empathy too,” I said. “Okay.”

“Are you going to turn me in?” she asked as I placed her coffee in front of her.

“Turn you in?” I asked. “Who to?”

“The FBI,” she said.

I sat down opposite her and sipped at my drink.

“And what do you think they’ll do?” I asked.

“Arrest me,” she said. “My father told me that if anyone found out about me, they’d arrest me and take me away.”

“And you still believe that?” I asked, Incredulous.

“That’s what I was told,” she said. “It’s a bit difficult to test. I could hardly walk up to an FBI agent and say, ‘excuse me, I have this power. Am I alright to carry on?’”

She kind of had a point.

“You know about memory transfer?” I asked. She shook her head.

“I can take memories from you,” I explained, “with your permission. I can also give you memories. For instance, if I watched a football game, and then gave you the memory, you would remember the game as if you had been there. Will you allow me to give you a memory?”

She took a drink of her coffee as she considered.

“What’s it of?” she asked.

“I discovered a power user,” I said. “In truth – the only power users that the FBI are really interested are those with Compulsion. TK and Empathy don’t really register with them. But I found a man using Compulsion as part of a hypnosis stage act. Can I show you what happened when the FBI went to speak with him?”

She nodded. I gave her the memory and saw her eyes glaze over as she assimilated it.

Her jaw dropped.

“That’s it?” she said. “They just said make sure you behave, and keep in touch?”

“Pretty much,” I said. “And like I said. He had the forbidden power of Compulsion. He wasn’t using it to hurt anyone, so he was fine to continue. They’ll check in on him from time to time to make sure he hasn’t gone rogue, but other than that, he’s free to do his thing. Even if he did give that guy a swirly.”

She almost smiled at that.

“So you think…”

I pulled out my phone, put it on the counter, and put it on speaker.

“Caleb,” Maggie answered the phone.

“Assistant Deputy Director Forbes,” I said. “Quick question please.”

“Shoot,” she said sounding intrigued by my addressing her in such a manner.

“I think I saw someone using TK this morning. What should I do?”

“What were they doing?”

“Lifting a hardwood floor.”

“You mean like construction work, or vandalism?”

“Oh, Construction work.”

“Leave them alone and let them get on with their job,” she said. “Maybe introduce yourself and make sure they’re not a multi with Compulsion, but I suspect if they are working construction they aren’t. And if they are, then they’re not abusing their powers. Nobody would work that hard if they were the kind of person to abuse powers. If they have Compulsion let me know, otherwise let them be.”

“Okay will do,” I said and hung up the phone.

“Who was that?” she asked.

“That was Maggie Forbes,” I said “She’s an Assistant Deputy Director in the FBI.”

“So…”

“I hate to break it to you,” I said grinning, “but the FBI doesn’t care if you have powers. They do want you to keep it quiet; they don’t want everyone to know about powers. However, as long as you don’t break the law, you’re free to do whatever you like.”

She burst into tears.

I was around the counter and holding her before I really realised that I was moving. Damn, now I would need to get changed. I was covered in dust again.

“Hey,” I said gently. “What is it?”

“All my life,” she sobbed, “I’ve been scared. I’ve not had any meaningful relationships because I didn’t want anyone to get too close and find out about my powers. I’ve hidden away, terrified, waiting for the knock on the door that signified that they’d found me. All my life, all that fear, for no reason.”

I rolled comfort, and safety, and calm over her. She sighed.

“You can do that too?” she asked.

“I have Empathy too,” I said.

She shuddered and then pulled back. I let her go and sat down on the stool next to her.

“This doesn’t change anything,” I said. “I’m still expecting quality work.”

She laughed, a snot bubble bursting from her nose as she did so.

I handed her some paper towel and she blew her nose.

“Do your fiancées know about your power?” she asked. I nodded.

“Two of them have power of their own. The twins are Empaths. The other two, Jules and Ness, are Norms.”

“Norms?”

“It’s what we call people without powers. Muggles if you will.”

She laughed again. No snot this time.

“How come you have so many fiancées?” she asked.

“I could say it’s because of my power,” I said. “Empaths need to ‘share,’ but mostly it’s because I fell in love with them, and they fell in love with each other.”

“With each other?” she echoed. “Then they?”

“Yes, they ‘share’ with each other too.” I said, smiling gently. I saw her aura flare purple again.

“What do you mean you need to share?” she asked.

So I explained all about an Empath’s need to share, how it was actually damaging not to.

“I just thought,” she said, “I had a high libido. I tried to resist but I just can’t.”

“Don’t,” I said. “You will damage yourself if you don’t share.”

I looked at her, “You seem not to know much about powers,” I said. She shook her head.

“My father told me only what I already said.”

“Did he have power?” I asked but she shook her head. “Neither of my parents did. He told me that the FBI would either arrest me or lock me up in some laboratory somewhere for study, or dissection.”

I shook my head sadly.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I tell you what. While you’re working here, why don’t I spend some time teaching you what I know. I’ll help you train your powers.”

“You can train them?” she asked.

“You can,” I said. “First – do you have a games console?”

+++++

I had to get changed again before going to my afternoon hypnotherapy appointments, but I had just enough time to give Marcia some information. I left her loading the floor we’d pulled up into the dumpster.

When I came back to the house, she’d screened off half of Jules workshop, completely torn down the two walls, marked out the floors, and cut the floors back to where the new walls would be placed. She was just carrying out the last of the debris from that as I pulled into the garage.

By the time I got into the house she was finishing up sweeping the last of the mess.

She smiled at me as I walked into the room and looked around.

“I’m about finished for what I can do today,” she said. “The lumber is due to arrive tomorrow so I can start framing the walls. If all goes well, I should be able to get the frames up, and then I can start putting the services in.”

“Okay,” I said. “Listen, tell me to mind my own business if you like, but I get the feeling that you live on your own just now?”

She nodded.

“You’re more than welcome to stay for some dinner with us,” I said. “You could talk to the girls about your Empathy. They are far more knowledgeable about that power than I am. I only came into my powers a year ago – they grew up with theirs.”

“What about the others?”

“Everyone living here knows about powers,” I said. “And everyone knows to keep the secret.”

She bit her lip for a moment then shook her head. “Thanks,” she said, “but I’m dirty and sweaty. I’d need to get showered and changed, and I don’t have a change of clothes.”

“Okay,” I said. “Maybe another night?”

She smiled. “That would be good.”

“Okay then. See you tomorrow. Breakfast at eight?”

She smiled. “You trying to get me fat?”

I laughed.

She picked up her toolbox and walked out to her truck, packing it away inside. Then she climbed in and, with a last look in my direction, drove away.

I shared the memories of the day with everyone when I got home.

“Poor thing,” said Louise. “Imagine living your life in fear, just waiting for the knock on the door or for someone to discover your secret. You must have scared the shit out of her when you found her using her power.”

“It kind of did,” I said. “But she was fine when she left. She knows now that all she needs to do is keep it quiet and not abuse her powers.”

I looked at Gracie. “How was your day dear?”

She pulled her tongue out at me. Dana smirked.

“I’m back,” she said. “Dianna’s got me riding a desk for a while, until she’s satisfied that I’m fully recovered.”

“Well, that’ll make a change from riding Dana,” quipped Amanda. Dana blushed and Ness snorted.

“Listen to Miss Pure over here,” she said with a grin. Amanda grinned back.

“So, you think she’ll come to dinner?” asked Mary, looking at me.

“I suspect so,” I said. “You interested?”

Mary smiled. “It’s been a while since we shared,” she said. “And she seems really nice.”

“Not to mention she’s got that butch dyke vibe,” said Louise. Mary flushed, but it wasn’t with embarrassment. “I mean, hello! Construction worker! You want her to keep her toolbelt on?”

+++++

Marcie arrived the next morning at a quarter of eight. As she walked through the door, Gracie stood and walked up to her.

“Marcie Grey?” she said. Marcie looked scared but nodded.

“Special Agent Gracie Jordan, FBI,” she continued, flashing her badge. Marcie went white. “You are definitely all right to carry on,” Gracie smiled at her.

“GRACIE!!!” yelled Amanda “That was horrible!”

“No,” said Marcia, “no it wasn’t. I still didn’t believe Caleb yesterday. I saw a memory, yes, and heard him speak to someone on the phone, but I didn’t really believe it until now.” She looked at Gracie and said, “thank you.”

Gracie pulled her into a hug. “You’re safe here,” she whispered, “and among friends.”

“Now you’ve frightened her half to death,” I said. “Perhaps she can get some breakfast?”

The girls all made their way to start their day, and Marcia sat down at the table. I put a plate in front of her. She looked up at me.

“You okay?” I asked. “That was a bit cruel I thought.”

She smiled a little tightly, “It did shock me a little bit,” she said. “But now it’s done, I feel…”

“Free?” I asked.

She nodded. “Like a weight I didn’t know I was carrying has suddenly been lifted off me.”

I heard the hiss of airbrakes from outside.

“Sounds like the lumber is here,” I said. “I’ll go talk to the driver while you finish your breakfast.”

I’d barely introduced myself to the driver of the lumber delivery truck when Marcia came out of the house, still chewing and wiping her mouth on the back of her hand.

“Where do you want it?” The driver asked me. I deferred to Marcia.

Soon there were two piles. One of pre-cut lumbar, and another of sheetrock. There was quite a lot of both. There were also some doors, other boxes and bags, nails, tape, mud, wood for the floor, paint, and various other things.

Marcia checked everything off against the delivery sheet and, once she was satisfied, signed the sheet. The driver climbed into his cab and drove away.

“Right,” she said, burping a little. “We need to get this all inside. I don’t think it’s going to rain, but if it does the sheetrock will be toast.

We spent the next hour, moving all the materials into the garage. My truck was parked over to one side and we managed to stack all of the sheetrock and the flooring beside it. We took the lumber for the framing into the house.

I was surprised at how fast the framing went up. We both used our TK to hold things in place. I experimented with an offcut of lumber to see if I could cut the wood with TK. It kind of worked but, although it didn’t generate much in the way of sawdust, the cut wasn’t neat or particularly accurate. We decided to stick to the saw.

Our day was interrupted by an inspector from the city, who’d received a report that we were remodelling without the requisite permits. We spent an hour with him talking through everything that we were doing before he was satisfied that we didn’t actually need permits and were fine to continue. When I asked who’d put the report in, he wouldn’t say, but his mind screamed Tom Pritchard.

That prick was really starting to annoy me. I considered my options for retaliation. I could apply for a restraining order against him, but I wasn’t sure that I would get it. Even if I did, would that stop him putting in the calls to the various agencies? He could easily make those calls anonymously.

I could simply go and Compel him to leave us alone but there were two problems with that. The first was that I doubted that Maggie, the FBI, and the Judge would sign off on my Compelling a norm like that. Second, there wouldn’t be any component of revenge and I wanted to make the prick suffer for fucking with me. Not huge. I didn’t want to hurt him or anything like that, but I wanted to irritate him as much as he irritated me.

Irritation? An irritating itch for a week, two weeks, a month?

That was getting old. I wanted something more original, and I also wanted him to suspect it was me that was messing with him but have no proof. Hopefully that might get him to back off.

The inspector’s visit set us back a little, but we still managed to get all the framing done by the time the girls came home. I’d just finished in the shower, and Marcia was finishing tidying up. She put her gear next to the door ready to take out to her truck.

All the girls had a look around the rooms and walked in and out of the frames.

“You’re staying for dinner?” Mary asked Marcia. “Caleb is a great cook, and Ness is too.”

Marcia looked at me. “I’m all dirty and sweaty,” she said.

“You know where the bathroom is,” I said. “You’ve been using it all day.”

Amanda went over to her and took her hand. “Please?” she said sweetly. I could see Marcia’s aura glow bright purple again.

“There are some sweatpants and a tee you can change into on the rail,” I said, having expected the girls to push her to stay. I knew what they wanted, and I also knew that Marcia wouldn’t be difficult to persuade. She wasn’t interested in me at all, only the twins, but that was fine by me. They hadn’t really had any opportunity to share since those two boys, and they needed it too.

Marcia sighed. “Okay, thanks,” she said, and took herself off to the bathroom to get cleaned up.

We sat out on the deck, shooting the breeze for an hour or so, and then Ness and I went in to make dinner, leaving the twins and Marcia discussing Empathy together.

Marcia told us all about her work over dinner. How her father had started the company but had been killed in an accident when he fell off a roof. Her mother had died when she was a teenager, which meant that she’d been orphaned at the age of 26. She’d been working for, and then with, her father since she was old enough to hold a hammer and had gone to school to get all the requisite certifications. She hadn’t been working with her father the day he was killed. Her father had sent her to look at another job since the one he was working on wasn’t really enough work for two people. She often wondered if things would have been different had she been there. Apparently her father had been up on the roof of a single storey house. Since it was only single storey, he’d not bothered with any kind of safety harness and had slipped and fallen off the roof. He’d broken his neck in the fall and was dead by the time the EMT’s got to him.

Marcia told the story like she’d told it a million times before. It didn’t seem to really affect her anymore. I guessed that she was cried out about her father’s death, but there was still a feeling of loss and loneliness radiating from her that we all felt.

Amanda, being Amanda, swamped her in good feelings, contentment, trust, and belonging. And Marcia smiled as she felt them washing over her.

After dinner, I cleared away the dishes. Ness and Jules were chatting about something. Gracie, Dana, Josh, and Louise were half watching the television. Marcia was sitting talking to the twins. They’d started out talking about powers, but the conversation had devolved from there. When I came into the living room and sat down, Jules and Ness came over and sat with me, with Ness climbing into my lap.

“You know they’re going to take her to bed,” Ness said quietly looking up at me.

“Mmhmm,” I said smiling at her. “Does that bother you?”

“No,” she said, “but I was worried it might bother you.”

I shook my head. “It’s fine,” I said. “They need it too. Besides I think Marcia could do with some love just now.”

Mary and Amanda stood up and held their hands out to Marcia. She looked up at them with a mixture of lust and fear in her aura. She looked across at me. I smiled at her. Finally, she took the twin’s hands, stood, and allowed them to lead her into the bedroom. I heard the door close softly behind them.

A few minutes later the door opened again, and Mary came out in just her underwear. She smiled at us all as she walked across to the front door and picked up Marcia’s tool belt. Blushing, she walked back into the bedroom and closed the door.