Mindguard (19 page)

I have always
disagreed with his following into my father’s footsteps and becoming a
mindguard. I said to him: “Son, the mind can be a very powerful enemy”. He
never listened, though. I remember his answer was always: “It might be your
enemy father – he never called me dad – it might be your enemy, but it isn’t
mine!”

Robert Ayers, father
of suspect Sheldon Ayers – Enforcement Unit Archives, File number 986697714,
Investigation of Ayers-Ross Thoughtprotection Agency on one count Treason
against the IFCO, with intention to overthrow the Council of Presidents.

Sheldon had
distanced himself from Isabel and Sophie. The carrier did not need to be in his
range of vision in order for him to properly protect her. He felt the presence
of her mind constantly, as clear as he would have heard her voice or smelled
her perfume. Like a voice, each individual mind had a certain timbre. To a
mindguard, the thoughts of a person were as distinct as fingerprints or genetic
markers. A mystic would have called it her ‘aura’ but Sheldon disliked occult
terminology. Mindguards called it the ‘thought timbre’.

Sophie had a
very pleasant thought timbre, as soothing to the mind as a gifted singer’s
voice to the ears. Not all of his clients possessed this quality. In fact, in
Sheldon’s experience, most people had a coarse thought timbre, unpleasant to
the mind, like thick smoke to the lungs.  But it was not his job to judge
the quality of the minds he protected. He always offered an equal level of
commitment to everyone. Still, it was a pleasant surprise to work with someone
like Sophie. In very simple terms, her mind disclosed that she was a very
positive, gentle person.

There was a
single ‘dark spot’ in her timbre, a particular section that was not in harmony
with the rest. Sheldon suspected that it was the imprint of Horatio Miller’s
mind, perhaps the very information package that they had been hired to protect.
He didn’t know for sure, because it was beyond the level he was allowed to
access. However, he didn’t feel the slightest curiosity. His training as a
mindguard made him instinctively back away from any information about the
packages under his protection. Sophie was not even aware of his mind’s presence
inside her own. That was one of the things that made him such a capable
mindguard. He was always subtle, never uncomfortable to the client.

He stopped in
front of a stand that offered old books, dusty and crumpled editions in every
language imaginable. He wasn’t planning on buying anything, but the sight of
books always relaxed him. The vendor said something, probably asked if he was
looking for a title in particular, but Sheldon didn’t bother to answer. The man
turned away with a look of disgust.

He passed the
book stand and stopped in front of one that offered a sort of food made from
the intestines of a native animal, that the vendor swore would be the tastiest
thing he will have ever eaten. But Sheldon didn’t stop because of the food.
Behind the stand was the entrance to a shop that offered second-hand clothing.
The clothes were placed in disarray, in typical bazaar fashion, but an item in
the back had drawn his attention. It was standing out in an otherworldly glow.
That item should not have been there. He knew that because it belonged to him.
It was his old leather jacket, which had been a gift from his grandfather. The
other reason he knew it shouldn’t be there was because he was wearing it at
that very moment.

Yet he saw it,
clear as day, hanging on a clothes hanger in the back of the store. He passed
the food stand and made his way towards it, almost forgetting for a moment
about guarding Sophie. Before he ever had the chance to enter the store, he was
promptly reminded of his duty, when he felt Sophie’s timbre start to change. It
was getting darker, denser, as if something viscid was seeping inside it. He
felt the link between their two minds weaken, which could mean only one thing:
somebody was trying to read her thoughts.

The attacker’s
timbre was inconsistent and chaotic, the sign of a weak telepath. It was
probably some local junkie, hopped up on whatever synthetic cerebroactivator
they used in Fardhi. Sheldon could sense that Sophie didn’t yet feel the
attack. The assailant had very little command of his telepathy, his mind merely
flickering around the girl’s. There was no need for a Weixman Cube, which would
have only served to alarm and confuse her. Instead, Sheldon projected his own
mind between that of the attacker and that of his client. His powerful mind
repelled the attack, increasing its force exponentially.

The aggressor
was now undoubtedly in a state of crippling pain and discouraging confusion.
Sheldon started walking towards Sophie, looking around for anyone who might
seem extremely uncomfortable. Sure enough there he was, sitting at one of the
tables near a stand that served cheap liquor. He wasn’t hard to notice. He was
desperately looking left and right, then up and down, then at his hands and his
body, as though he were being attacked by termites. He was sweating profusely
and his entire body was shaking like he had been struck by an acute attack of
malaria.

Sheldon calmly
walked towards him. As he was nearing the table, the aggressor noticed him. He
looked at Sheldon like the mindguard was a conglomeration of all phobias that
have ever terrorized humanity. He seemed ready to start crying. Sheldon got
very close to him, to the point where he could smell the stench of the man’s
cold sweat. He stared indifferently at the terrified man, his mind tightening
like a vice around the feeble consciousness of the thug. The man was too
petrified to even beg for his sanity. He was a pathetic wretch, a young junkie
who had hoped to cling on to the lovely woman’s thought timbre for a mere
second, to get off like a pervert groping a woman in a crowded spaceport. He
was not a serious threat.

As the man broke
down in tears, and blood started dripping from his left nostril, Sheldon tilted
his head to one side like a curious dog. When the mindguard felt confident that
the man’s sanity was seriously compromised, he merely turned around and left,
leaving the junkie behind a nervous wreck. He got close to Sophie, who didn’t
have the faintest clue of the battle that had just taken place for her mind.

“We should get
going,” he said. “Mac will be at the church in just a few minutes.”

“Mm hmm”, she
answered, admiring a colorful dress.

Sheldon returned
to the store where he had seen the leather jacket.  It wasn’t there
anymore, at least not visible from the outside. He didn’t want to risk going in,
especially after what had just happened with the minor telepathic assault. The
store was open but nobody seemed to be there. No salesman was visible from the
outside. Of course, the view was almost completely obstructed by the sheer
amount of old, ugly, smelly and dusty clothes that had been piled up in such a
way as to be easily seen from the street. There could be a salesperson behind
those stacks of clothes, hidden from view.

“Sheldahn, we
should go.”

Isabel’s voice
was heard somewhere in the distance. He turned around and made eye contact,
then nodded and turned back to look at the store one more time.

Sure enough,
there he was. The salesman had appeared seemingly out of nowhere and was now
sifting through a pile of clothes as if he were looking for something. He had
his back turned to Sheldon, but even so, the mindguard recognized him in an
instant. He was wearing the leather jacket and his white hair, combed behind
the back, reached over the collar.

Sheldon’s eyes
widened and his heartbeat hastened. When Kinsey Ayers turned around, his
appearance was that which Sheldon remembered from his youth, not the weak and
fragile aspect from before he died. Sheldon started shaking but he held the old
man’s gaze. His grandfather said nothing, but the look on his face was one of
profound sadness. He seemed to wait for his grandson to come to him, but
Sheldon turned around and simply walked away.

A second of
weakness is enough to tear down what you have built in a lifetime of strength.

Villo Kantil

“If you had any
knowledge whatsoever of political history, you would be as worried as I am
after the events of the last few days, instead of sitting there with that
superior smirk.”

The talk show
had only just started, but the heavyset man with the beard was already
beginning to get angry. He was breathing heavily and sweating profusely. The
color of his face suggested a tropical sunshine over a wad of grease. 
Clearly, he carried a big chip on his shoulder and was looking for the first
opportunity to get enraged.

The other guest,
a historian and official biographer of the Enforcement Unit, was going to
provide him with just that opportunity. He had an arrogant and conceited
demeanor, the likes of which could anger the most even-tempered man of the
cloth.

“Educator
Carson, as opposed to you, I am a man of reason. Since you are obviously biased
and extremely subjective, I do aim to provide
a little
nonpartisanship
and professionalism to this conversation.

 “Violating
the rights of citizens - rights which are granted and guaranteed by the IFCO -
should not be dismissed so casually, Mr. Vernon.” The fat man pronounced his
interlocutor’s name as if it were one of those words he had been taught as a
child to avoid in any and all circumstances.

“You’re just
upset he picked on one of you educators.”

“Gentlemen,
please, this is getting out of hand -”

The host’s
reaction was so rehearsed it would take a very dense viewer to overlook just
how excited he was at the prospect of his guests springing at each other’s
throats. 

“He did not just
‘pick on us educators’ as you so impertinently stated,” the fat man continued.
“Several sources in the last few hours have confirmed the abusive shut down of
the Ayers-Ross Thoughtprotection Agency.”

“You assume it
was abusive, Educator Carson.”

“I assume it was
abusive? A reputable agency with a spotless history is all of a sudden accused
of treason and intention to overthrow the government. The agency is closed
down, all the agents seized by the Enforcement Unit and the remaining active
employees, who are guarding an educator’s daughter…”

“Here we go
again…”

“…are branded
fugitives and hunted like animals…”

“Now, hold on…”

“Gentleman,
please…”

The calmer the
biographer remained, the more the educator raised his voice. The host secretly
wished the man would not only yell, but hopefully take a swing at his smug
interlocutor’s face, or perhaps spit in his eye. Both reactions would be
equally effective in producing ratings and entirely preferable to a polite
conversation.

“Educator
Carson, I am surprised that an academic such as yourself is tempted to fall
prey to such sensational rumor…”

“This rumor, Mr.
Vernon, has been confirmed by reputable sources.”

“Reputable, ha,
well -”

The host, a tall
and slender, curly-haired man with a mustache that appeared to exist merely to
spite the rest of his face, interjected himself into the conversation: “If I
may interrupt, Mr. Vernon, we have sent our very own reporters from
Impartial
Interrogation
and they have been unable to establish contact with any
employee from Ayers-Ross.”

“Perhaps the
very accomplished agency merely refuse to taint its reputation by participating
in this media circus.”

“Sir, l kindly
ask you to refrain from insulting our staff or our viewers.”

“And, Mr.
Vernon,” said the educator, “Horatio Miller himself has not been seen or heard
from in the last forty-eight hours, and has given no official statement on this
topic.”

 “…which I
rather interpret to be a sign that he has better things to do with his time
than dismiss inflammatory comments.”

“Mr. Vernon, do
you deny that the Enforcement Unit has the power to infringe upon a citizen’s
rights -”

“Educator, I am
merely stating that Commander Anderson and his Enforcement Unit have always had
this power, yet for the past two and a half centuries they have been nothing
but a pillar of stability for those very rights you mention time and time
again.”

“It is too much
power for a single person, when the threat of corruption -”

“Corruption?
Commander Anderson’s behavior has been spotless. If the IFCO is enjoying any
sort of stability it is because of this man and the military he commands.”

“I think
stability is a questionable term, Mr. Vernon. Perhaps yourself and the elite
class of IFCO citizens you represent have not felt as powerfully the reality in
which the rest of us citizens -”

“
Us
citizens? I think you are the wrong man to be speaking of an elite,
Educator
Carson. I think it is outright laughable that you try to present yourself as
the voice of the common citizen, when the class of educators are among the
wealthiest people in all of the IFCO. Surely, you of all people are the last
person to feel the effects of the mild financial setback.”

“A mild setback,
Mr. Vernon? Some have called it a serious financial crisis, and it has been
going on for some time.”

“History teaches
us that the financial setback we are still somewhat struggling with to this day
was caused by the devastation brought about by the War of Minds.  Now, if
you recall, Educator Carson, the history books clearly relate that the
Enforcement Unit, under the command of Thomas Liam Anderson, has been
instrumental in ending that war and providing the basic freedom we enjoy as
citizens. In fact, one could argue that Commander Anderson’s army has laid the
foundation of what is today the IFCO. I believe that those actions should be
more than enough to earn the man the confidence and admiration of the IFCO, not
to mention the benefit of the doubt, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Do not
patronize me, Mr. Vernon. I know you are supposedly a historian but I have had
an interest in history since before you were born. I know very well what we
citizens owe the Enforcement Unit. I fully agree that, when the Unit was
established, the freedom under which it operated and the power it had been
granted represented a necessity. However, those were times of war Mr. Vernon.
For centuries, we are living times of peace.”

“Yes, and that
is thanks only to Commander Anderson and his enforcers.”

“True. But the
enormous power granted to the enforcers is unjustified in today’s society. Even
you can not negate the waning trust of the citizens in the integrity of the
Enforcement Unit. People are uncomfortable with the fact that Commander
Anderson can bend the rules at his very own will.”

“That waning
trust you refer to Educator Carson, is cultivated by people such as yourself,
hoping to weaken the influence of the Enforcement Unit for their own political
gain.”

“Now see here,
you little -”

“Gentlemen,
please!”

“I’m sorry,
Rone, but if your pathetic talk-show were not merely a vehicle for silly
advertisements, perhaps you could exert better control of its progression.”

“Mr. Vernon, I
kindly ask you to keep a professional and respectful attitude towards -”

“The man is a
clown!” Educator Carson screamed. Whatever little self control he had displayed
so far had completely evaporated, making way to the pent-up anger and
frustration he had been looking to release since before the show had even
started. He looked straight at Vernon with an expression that would have been
more proper were the man entirely covered in feces.

“Your feigned
disinterest in what is obviously a grave matter of interstellar security
clearly demonstrates that you have your own perverse agenda.”

“Ha, are you
suggesting I’m on Commander Anderson’s payroll, then, Educator Carson? Because
in that case I believe a call to my lawyers is in order.”

“Gentlemen,
please, let’s not let this discussion further deteriorate.”

“You are simply refusing
to acknowledge that it is dangerous for a single man to hold so much power.”

“The power does
not belong to Thomas Liam Anderson - the man. It belongs to the position of
Enforcement Unit Commander, Educator Carson.”

“But there has
never
been
another Enforcement Unit Commander. Hell, Thomas Anderson
is
the bloody Enforcement Unit. Those so-called soldiers follow his every order
like mindless drones.”

“Oooh, perhaps
you should tread lightly, Educator Carson.”

“Or what?
Commander Anderson will do away with me like he did Vice President Micah
Suraman?”

“I believe the
official report on that was ‘natural causes’, Educator.”

“Natural causes?
His neural monitoring system fails and he dies of an aneurism the day after he
publicly voices his distrust of Commander Anderson and the Enforcement Unit?!”

“You are
throwing around unfounded accusations Educator.”

“Unfounded? On
November 13
^th
2124 Commander Anderson and his enforcers assassinated
the entire Council of Presidents and established themselves as rulers of the
IFCO, basically granting themselves limitless power.”

“A power they
gladly gave up once order was restored.”

“Did they?
Because some say that true power still lies in the hands of the enforcers.”

“That sounds
mighty paranoid, Educator Carson.”

“A healthy fear
of a military that feels they can overthrow government and assume control at
their whim is not paranoia, Mr. Vernon.”

“Perhaps you
should reconsult your history books and study the actions of President Supa
Ramir and the Council under his lead. Focus on the direction of his politics
before Commander Anderson thankfully intervened. If he had not, the society we
live in today would be drastically different. In fact, I’d like to go on record
as stating that we would not be sitting here in this second-hand studio even
talking freely about a topic such as this, had it not been for Commander Thomas
Liam Anderson.”

“Look at it
however you want, Vernon, there is no denying that the Enforcement Unit is
exhibiting behavior that gives me reason to be very anxious regarding their
actions. I do not want my personal freedom threatened.”

“Let’s put it
this way, Educator Carson. If sometime in the following days I shall be
attending your funeral, I will publicly admit that I was wrong and you were
right, how does that sound?”

“You insolent
little -”

At that moment
Tamisa shut off the holofeed. She was livid. If she had been in that studio,
she would have physically attacked both guests and the moderator too. In the
past few days, ever since the commander shut down Ayers-Ross, the interstellar
press was avidly covering anything connected with the activity of the
enforcers.

It was obvious
that the mass media had its own bias. Since the media itself was a great
political power, Tamisa could see why the influential press barons would want
to weaken the position of the enforcers. For that, she hated them with a
passion.

While she
herself could acknowledge that the actions of Commander Anderson over the past
few weeks had been unorthodox, she felt that the media had no right to question
the enforcers. They had maintained peace for over two and a half centuries.
Since the Great War of Minds, there had been no other wars. Even the occasional
guerrilla conflicts on some meaningless planets were so infrequent, that the
enforcers had been given the popular nickname ‘The Unnecessary Unit.’

Tamisa was
maddened by the ignorance of the general population, who failed to recognize
that the enforcers maintained this peace, discouraging violence and anarchy
through their very existence. In doing so, they created the illusion that they
were no longer necessary. The people were too dumb to recognize this and the
media just furthered this ignorance.

Educator Carson
was by far one of the most paranoid politicians in the IFCO. He had been raving
for years about conspiracies and totalitarianism, but no one had been willing
to listen until now. The host had invited him specifically because Carson was
easily angered and emotionally unstable, the type of person who would no doubt
capture the attention of the common citizen. Then, he paired him up with
historian Mike Vernon, easily the most unlikeable and distrusted of all the
people who had shown support for the Enforcement Unit. It was subtle and
malicious.

Yellow
journalism such as this could prove very damaging to the image of the
enforcers. But if you threatened the position of the Enforcement Unit, you
could easily destabilize the entire IFCO. Could theses idiots not see that? Or
were they so hungry for personal power, that they were prepared to ignore the
well-being of the very society they lived in? Tamisa remembered Kaye Wright and
the nightmare that had been Aanadya. That nightmare could easily become the
entire federation, if the enforcers would cease to exist. It made her blood
boil.

When Villo
entered her quarters and asked if he could speak with her, she almost yelled at
him for no reason. She managed to control her anger at the last moment. She’d
be damned if she would lash out at the one person she loved most in the world,
just because of the hypocrisy and stupidity of the rest of the universe. Villo
was her personal universe, Villlo and the enforcers.

He read her like
an open book. “You’re pissed.”

“No, I…” She
took one look at Villo and gave up. “Yeah, I am.”

“The news?”

“Yeah.”

She knew what he
was going to say: ‘Oh, don’t get you panties in a knot, Tammy. Commander’s been
dealing with bigger and scarier monsters than these paranoid idiots, since
before you were even born.’