Mindseeker

Chapter 3: Tether

The office secretary is a plump, short-haired woman with an unsettling combination of warm, sweet smile and hard, no-nonsense eyes. She hands me my class schedule and a school-issued planner I'll never need.

"Aaron!" she calls.

A boy emerges from the back office. He is everything I would ascribe to the title of rich jock. His blond hair is perfectly moussed. He has zero acne. His clothes are expensive. The chain around his neck is too bright and shiny to be silver. It must be platinum. 

His eyes most catch my attention, that cool-boy confidence, as if he stands untouchable in his private domain. They are a very intense shade of blue. Is hyperblue a color? I'm sure it's in a Crayola box somewhere. He is also incredibly fit, toned muscles pushing against his white polo shirt.

He gives the secretary a too-sweet smile that shows his dimples. "Yes, Mrs. Jennison?"

"Dacien is a new student," the secretary responds. "I'd like you to show him around, give him a tour of the school, but keep it brief. Dacien, this is Aaron Delacroix, my first period office assistant. He'll help you get your bearings here at Milton Jamison. Here are passes for both of you."

Aaron takes the papers from Mrs. Jennison and looks me over. I don't think he is that impressed because he just nods. It's fine. Aaron is not my Psychord, and I don't have time for arrogant jocks.

"This way, Jason," he says and begins down the hallway.

"It's Dacien," I correct him.

"Right, yeah, sure, Dacien."

I can tell he is already bored with me. He points out the wings of various classrooms. The school is large. There are probably thousands of students. I pay only minor attention to his tour. If I get lost, I can always use the Synthnet. I'm still running over how I will make my introduction to Kota. Already, I'm second-guessing last night's strategy.

"Hey newb, you hearing me?"

My eyes snap back to Aaron. The Synthnet command is automatic, reaching out to Aaron's mind, pulling information like threads from a spool. As if it was my own memory, I can recall what Aaron was trying to tell me, the information effortlessly downloaded through the Synthnet and into me.

"Of course I heard you," I say. "You were talking about how this school doesn't have lockers, so I need to be ready to carry my stuff to each class."

Aaron's face scrunches, as if he's disappointed that he doesn't have a good excuse to berate my inattention. "Yeah, so you got everything you need right? The first period bell's going to ring any minute. I need to get my own stuff."

"I'm good," I assure him.

He pushes the secretary's pass into my chest, gives me a nod, and walks off. I sigh. I hate jocks. At least Kota isn't a jock.

A bell like the squawk of a dying buzzard fills the halls, and a flood of students quickly follows.

My second period is History, Room 48. I keep my Synthnet connection under careful control. I could pluck literally anything out of this sea of teenage brains. A random musing or curiosity might be perceived as a command to the network if I'm not careful. I don't need any dating information, secret celebrity crushes, or homework anxieties, thanks.

I feel it the second I walk through the door, the sudden intense thrum of the Tether that tells me I'm in close physical proximity to my Psychord.

Kota is sitting at a desk by the window, staring out, twirling his pencil. Hey, at least he's in class. I walk past him on the way to an empty desk, taking a route that isn't strictly necessary. There's no smell of weed, so I don't think he's stoned.

The sucky part about Kota being a Psychord is that the usual Synthnet commands won't work on him. I have the Tether, but for now, the connection is undeveloped. It won't help me much beyond tracking him. I'd never be able to Infix Kota like I did the guy in the park, and I wouldn't be able to plumb his thoughts like I just did to Aaron. Ultimately, the Tether is stronger, much stronger, but it has to be nurtured first.

That nurturing will begin with me not screwing up our first meeting.

I take the desk behind Kota, pulling out my notebook and pen case.

The teacher introduces himself to me and me to the class. A few eyes shift in my direction. A few heads nod. I don't expect anything else. I don't want anything else. Kota doesn't even twitch.

I wish he could feel what I'm feeling right now. The rising hum in my ears pleads like a whining puppy for him to just turn around, acknowledge me, give me a nod.

Keep it fricking together, Dacien!

Two months of emotional balance drilling and Tether control wasn't enough. They never really explained what it would be like to deal with the Tether. I guess even Yul'Nari tech can't simulate this.

I turn my mind to the lesson, amused that the present topic is the late Roman Empire. Hey, maybe my hometown is on that map. I focus on the boring stuff, the dates, the names, the statistics, something to tone down the Tether that is starting to feel like a hot rope around my neck.

"Okay everybody," Mr. Hardin says. "Why don't you work with a partner on the discussion questions at the end of the section? Let's see if we can figure out where the late empire's strategies went wrong."

There is some shuffling and murmuring as students move to find their partner of choice. Kota doesn't move. He's staring at his book like the questions are written in Sanskrit and he forgot the translation dictionary.

Opportunity!

I tap Kota's hoodie-covered shoulder, and he jumps. "Hey, want to work together?" I ask.

Kota's eyes find mine for the first time. They are jade green and would be pretty if they weren't dulled with exhaustion and bloodshot. The contact ramps the intensity of the Tether up to eleven, and I have to concentrate on breathing for a second.

Kota lets out a heavy sigh. "Sure," he says.

He turns his chair around and dumps his bent, dirty, barely-holding-onto-life textbook down on my desk.

We proceed through the discussion questions. I use the term discussion very loosely here. It is more like a lecture as I walk Kota through every question. I try to spark his interest, sharing some details I snag off the Synthnet to enhance the experience.

I might be from Dacia, but I don't remember any of it. Still, I've always been fascinated with that part of the world and that time in history. Maybe it's genetic, a built-in connection to my heritage that even reincarnation and memory wipes don't erase. It's something that's uniquely mine, something even the Yul'Nari can't take away.

I cherish it.

I hope my enthusiasm for the subject will be infectious for Kota. It isn't. He scribbles down enough information to make it look like he completed the assignment and turns around. I don't even get a thank you for my very excellent tutoring.

I can't blame Kota. Our time together, our interaction, albeit mostly one-sided, allowed a tiny bit of the Tether to grow. It's not a burning noose around my neck anymore. It's mellowed out to be more like an uncomfortably warm blanket.

Other feelings are starting to come through the empathic link the Tether gives us. Kota is more than just tired. He's sad, sad in that deep way that is not expressed in tears, but in the painful weight that clamps around your joints and your heart until you hurt everywhere. I can't tell why he's so sad. I only know that he is.

My previous plans are tossed. I know now what my first task will be.