Chapter 79: Junior Varsity Mind-Control

Chapter 79: Junior Varsity Mind-Control

This kid is gonna be the death of me. Chase thought, gritting his teeth. Wraith was the easiest, being all shook up because of her dead dad gave him an easy in.

Hardcase was conventionally-minded, nuclear parents, only incidentally abusive. She was a bit off kilter due to puppy love, but the fixation didn’t provide an in, with how focused she was on it. A tough nut to crack, but a simple one.

Paradox...was weird. The kids’ mind was constantly changing. His brain fired so quickly that it sometimes felt like Chase was hanging on by his fingernails, then it would suddenly slow down, and harden up instead, turning into a mire that could drag him down to the bottom if he relaxed his sphincter for an instant. Shortly afterward, it would change again, not fast or slow, but bearing a scent.

Chase had never experienced a scent in someone’s mind.

It smelled like...emptiness. And it made Chase wildly uncomfortable.

Paradox’s mind shifted gears again, causing Chase’s grip to slip. The Tinker glanced up at Chase with a frown, unraveling the deception at lightning speed.

Adrenaline flowing, Chase blocked the realization an instant before his control unraveled, his sphincter puckering up against the couch.

The kid had pinned an actual demon to a sacrificial circle with their own blade. He was obviously capable of murder. Chase didn’t wanna find out what would happen if he lost control.

When a Minder lost control, getting it back was actually harder than the first time, despite what the comics and politicians would tell you. If someone as slippery as Paradox realized what was going on, Chase would probably be missing half his teeth before he could hope to regain control.This chapter's initial release occurred on the n0vell--Bjjn site.

It’s like a roller-coaster with no seatbelts, Chase thought as Paradox shrugged and went back to his illegal tinkering.

Chase didn’t really care about the bureaucrats who’d decided that Tinkers could only do their thing in pre-determined places, or if they had a license. It was a stupid rule that was a knee-jerk reaction to Megacore blowing up part of the wall in the late two thousands.

It didn’t actually stop Tinkers from experimenting on their own. It just made people feel better, which was all the old fogeys really cared about.

At the moment, Hardcase and Paradox were inside, not causing trouble, and Wraith was cackling at a reality TV-show.

Nobody was getting murdered.

As the episode Super Parent Swap ended, Chase checked his watch. It was ten thirty, rapidly approaching eleven. Time for all good teenage crime-fighters to go to bed so uncle Chase could finally take a moment to breath.

Chase gave a long, exaggerated yawn. “Well, it’s getting pretty late. We got a long day on the wall tomorrow. Let’s turn in.”

“Yeah, I guess I’m tired.” Paradox said.

Chase glanced over at the three opulent bedrooms.

Three opulent bedrooms, four people, Chase thought, coming up with a solution in a second.

“I’ll take the center room there, Paradox, you can be on the left, Wraith and Hardcase can share the one on the right...”

Chase touched Hardcase’s surface feelings, blinked a couple times, and reconsidered room placement.

“Actually, Hardcase, you can bunk up with...”

Wow.

“Okay, Wraith can sleep wi-“

Okay...I did not expect sleeping arrangements to be this delicate.

The three of them existed in a delicate balance of denial that could erupt like a goddamn volcano at any moment...and Chase didn’t want to be held responsible for it.

“You know what Paradox? You’re on the couch. Hardcase, you get the right-hand room.”

“You’re the leader, why don’t you sleep on the couch?” Paradox asked.

“Because I’m old and already did my time couch-surfing in the two-thousands,” Chase said, recalling the era of his life where he hermit-crabbed from family to family, inserting himself as a welcomed guest.

It had had its ups and downs.

“Alright, you guys go to bed, I wanted to head out and look for John’s lair again,” Paradox said, putting a bag strap over his shoulders.

“You can do that after your shift on the wall, can’t you?” Chase asked, a bead of sweat forming on his forehead as he struggled to turn Paradox’s opinion.

Unfortunately the kid’s desire to go out wasn’t rooted in idle desires, it had something vaguely to do with his identity and sense of self, which meant getting him to change his mind was like pulling teeth.

“I don’t need sleep that bad,” Paradox said with a shrug, heading for the door with a satchel over his shoulder.

“I hate to pull rank here,” Chase said, “but I need to be sure you’re gonna be in good condition and present tomorrow, or they’ll have my ass. Stay.”

Paradox frowned, his mind squirming inhumanly in Chase’s grasp, in a way that sent goosebumps up the Minder’s neck.

“I’ll help you look on your next day off,” Chase said, fully intending to kick the problem down to Future Chase.

Sure enough, the smell woke the three up and one-by-one Chase imprinted his narrative on their sleep-clouded minds.

Just as someone wakes up or falls asleep is the easiest time to make more drastic, permanent changes to a person’s mind. Make them admire you, find you attractive, change the object of their crush. Dictate their behavior. Make them stop using your credit card for fuckin’ everything.

Chase didn’t. He simply applied a narrative and allowed them to retain free will and remain wholly themselves within that narrative.

It wasn’t out of any moral consideration, or because it was against the law. Chase had about as much respect for the law as these kids had for him.

There were only two reasons he didn’t:

#1 Mental violation of that magnitude was a fantastic way to get murdered days, weeks, or years down the road when the victim unraveled the change. A wise Minder paid much, if not more, consideration to how a victim would react if they broke control. Especially if aforementioned victim was a super.

#2 Chase was approaching his forties. He’d already lost his taste for that sort of thing.

“I have prepared a sumptuous feast,” Chase said, pulling the single combined multi-pizza out of the oven and placed it in the middle of the room as the three teens dragged themselves out of bed, looking a bit rough around the edges.

“I told you you should’a went to bed at ten-thirty.”

“We’re not geriatrics like you,” Paradox muttered, staring at the pizza for a good thirty seconds before he figured out what he was supposed to do with it.

“Alright, pizza first, then showers, then we gotta get to the wall,” Chase said, checking his watch. An hour and a half, meaning they had plenty of time to get suited up on the lower levels before catching the bus to the wall.

There was a shuttle that ran back and forth between the hotel and the wall for obvious reasons.

Chase watched Hardcase’s eyes follow Wraith, who’d called the shower before anyone else. He couldn’t help but read Hardcase’s surface impulse, which was quickly quashed as she turned away and returned to eating her pizza, taking a slice each from Paradox and Wraith.

Huh.It’s always the quiet ones with the most active imaginations. Damn.I really hope I don’t get blamed for that. I’m sensing a lot of repression.

Another favorite pastime of...pretty much everyone...was blaming their own desires on the spooky mind-controllers.

Yeah, I’ll bet that bites me in the ass, Chase thought sourly as Hardcase watched Paradox enter the shower room after Wraith, practically drooling into her plate before she caught herself and beat herself up about it internally for a good five minutes.

Chase couldn’t tell exactly what was happening in someone’s head, but he could read the broad strokes. And Hardcase’s brain wasn’t exactly quiet, or alien like Paradox’s.

Chase considered giving his worldly advice, but again, anything that came out of his mouth would be suspect once they realized they’d been under mental house arrest on the train-ride home.

Anything he did would likely have the opposite effect in the long run. Best to play it hands-off.

Which was uncomfortable when someone was actively hating themselves across the table from him for stupid-ass reasons.

Chase pushed his empathy way down in the pit of his stomach where it belonged and ignored it. He had plenty of practice at that.

Soon enough, all three of them were ready for work, and they all took a trip down to the armory, joking and goofing around to cover the ever-present fear of death, mostly for Hardcase’s benefit.

The bite-sized Tinker was a normie, and hadn’t quite developed that hardened mental state that comes with seeing a lot of death.

“Admit it, you just wanted Hardcase to wear the mox clothes so you could gawk at her through the plexiglass,” Wraith joked, using sexual tension and humor to divert her thoughts from mortality.

“Not true,” Paradox said, shaking his head.

Not entirely true, Chase corrected mentally, glancing over at Hardcase. His jaw dropped a bit at the surface thoughts thrashing around wildly as she calmly readied her mechsuit.

Hardcase might be good at poker, actually.

“Multiple, redundant layers of defense are vital to a long career as a super,” Paradox continued, his armor unfolding in front of him.

The Tinker turned around and stepped backward into the dull grey suit, allowing it to close around him.

Crack.

Chase’s head whipped around to look directly at Paradox. The instant the helmet had come down over his head, his mind had suddenly changed from a murky bog to wet cement. An order of magnitude more difficult to penetrate. Chase’s control had been shattered instantly.

The game was up.

The suit of armor paused, seemingly losing his train of thought as Paradox unraveled the last twenty or so hours.

Seems like as good a time as any to bail, Chase thought, putting his hands in his pockets and walking away at a casual pace, so as not to attract undue attention.

A iron grip clamped down over the back of his neck.

“Hey Chase, can I ask you a question?” Paradox’s modulated voice reverberated in his ear.

Crap.