Kurt Williamson sat in a dimly lit, white room on a metal folding chair and leaned against a long, folding table opposite a large wall mirror. He stared at his reflection and rubbed the brown stubble on his face and ran his fingers through his now non-regulation cut hair.
‘When did I shave last?’ he thought, immediately the answer came to him as, ‘three days ago.‘
His fingers also slid to his forehead, right above his nose where a diamond-cut piece of amethyst was planted and then to his throat where a similarly cut blue lapis was stowed. They were smooth, and Kurt could feel his energy within them. Whatever happened next, he knew all was going according to plan.
Just like his inevitable capture, just as he sat in that chair, all was divined by his master, and as his final order, he would tell their tale.
Kurt concentrated on the mirror and adjusted his eyes. He saw clearly now. Three men inside a dark room. They stared at him, animatedly talking amongst themselves. Kurt closed his eyes and concentrated. He felt the ripples of their thoughts, the energy of their emotions, keenly focused on him. They were angry, and rightly so. Kurt played a major role in turning their world upside down, and it was now that he would answer for his crimes.
Kurt chose Sergeant Hinkley, the youngest man in the room, and stared straight into his eyes and mouthed the word “Hi.” It was funny to see their faces shift from stone-cold concentration to silly putty. Kurt laughed on the other side, and as he felt their them from across the wall, he could tell they were more than a little uncomfortable.
Kurt nodded his head and mouthed “Come on in.”
They stood up and like choir boys left the darkroom to the unknown. Kurt leaned back in his chair and intertwined his fingers behind his head as he heard the latch in the door lock shift. A draft ushered in as the three investigators filed inside, their faces a mixture of hostility and curiosity, and the questions in their minds flowed out like a faucet, mixing into the room and nearly overwhelming Kurt. His training prepared him for this. He could be in a crowd and only hear a buzzing of mumbles surrounding his own thoughts, but he wanted to know where he should start his story.
They moved through the aether easily, and Kurt discerned them all.
‘Why does he look so calm?’
‘How could he do such a thing?’
‘Who is he working for?’
But probably the most relevant question on all their minds was, ‘What is the Psychic Society?’
One of the older investigators, an overweight gentleman with a bushy moustache, stooped down behind him and slammed a file on the table. With a huff of wintergreen, He stood erect next to Hinkley and the other. Kurt smiled as he remembered all the law shows he’d seen on TV and also remembering when this Lieutenant Jessup popped a stick of gum in his mouth in the opposite room.
“I don’t know why you’re laughing,” said Detective Boyd, the last man, who had gone gray from a long line of homicide investigations, “A lot of people are dead because of you.”
“I did not laugh,” said Kurt, peacefully, “I smiled. I’ve seen too many cop dramas, I guess.”
“Yeah?” said the Lieutenant, “Well just like those dramas, you’re going to prison. So you might as well fess up now!”
“Fess up?” said Kurt.
“Yeah,” said Boyd, “We’ve got you on video setting up the explosives in the House.”
“Oh?” interrupted Kurt, “You don’t have anything. Nothing that wasn’t given to you. And I know you don’t have that. I wish to be cooperative, so please start asking your questions and let’s skip the whole bad cop thing, shall we?”
Boyd’s face looked unaffected, but Kurt could see his inner flinch. It was amusing to think that months ago he wouldn’t have noticed such a small detail, but now it was second nature. His time with the Perry twins and the Psychic Society had taught him a lot about the mind.
The world around him was different. He could see the aether, the energy around him, as plainly as one could see the falling rain. He felt it inside every person, animal, and plant. Even inanimate objects held a certain power, though much less to living matter.
The men in the room had more energy than the chairs they unfolded to sit down, and their energies varied in intensity just by how emotional they got. The two older gentlemen calmed themselves, but the younger looked as if he had a rash from just being in the room.
Kurt smiled at each individually. “I’m glad we have this time to talk. I want to assure you that I mean you no harm and everything I tell you is true. I will answer all of your questions unless I find them irrelevant.”
“You better answer all of them!” said Sergeant Hinkley.
“Calm down, Sergeant,” said Kurt, “I did what was best for the country.”
“You killed unarmed government officials,” said Boyd.
“Casualties for the greater good,” said Kurt.
“Who are you to decide that?” said Jessup.
“I didn’t,” said Kurt, “It had to happen. So many people want change, but none understand what that means. It sounds good to some and it sounds scary to others. I assure you, gentlemen, it is nothing to be afraid of, and it is good for our country to pursue it.”
“This guy is nuts,” said Hinkley.
“We see what we see because our eyes are dirty. Clean your eyes, and you will see what I see.”
“Ok, enough of your mumbo jumbo,” said Boyd, “Who do you work for? What is the Psychic Society?”
“They are one and the same, and that is why I am here: to tell you all about it.”
“Spill!” said Jessup.