A Glimpse into the Unknown

There was no answer at the door. This was an uncommon occurrence, but tended to happen when Sean wasn’t in his office. He didn’t usually leave save lunch break and damage control, unless he had a particularly strong need for coffee. Today he’d had such a need, since he hadn’t slept for more than two hours the night before. His insomnia had returned, in spades, as it did from time to time. The caffeine made it easier, and since it was nearly the weekend, he resolved to take a sleeping pill on Friday and compensate for the lost hours then.

Returning with coffee, he saw young Jenni outside his office, knocking and obviously waiting for him. He was careful not to startle her, as he didn’t like doing that to any students and particularly not young telepaths from a sense of camaraderie. Balancing the coffee in one hand, he asked gently, “Are you looking for me?”

The answer to that question was fairly obvious, but he saw no reason to either spook her by simply coming up behind her and standing there, or to make assumptions, should she change her mind at the last moment. He knew how difficult it could be to reach out for help at that age, with that particular ability. He made sure that his mental shields were at maximum, to keep her from being bombarded with any additional thoughts. After all, he had an inkling of what had brought her to his door today.

“If you are,” he continued, stepping around her to allow him to open the door to his office, “you’re more than welcome to come inside and make yourself comfortable.”

She looked nervous, which was to be expected. Sean had never met with her before, he had his reputation about him, and she was young, which was enough to make any student nervous. Add to that the typical nervousness of untrained telepaths, and he sympathized. “That’s me,” he told her with a gentle smile. He wished to set her at ease, the same way that Robert had always been able to calm him when he was nervous.

He paused in the doorway a moment to let her enter first, but when she made no effort to move, he took the hint. He would do this her way, as it didn’t matter to him if he entered first, or sat down and made himself comfortable while she was still outside. It didn’t matter to him if she decided to cross herself three times and say a Hail Mary before entering his office, if that would set her at ease. Opening the door fully, he entered his office, set his coffee down on a coaster, and then sat in the chair by his desk.

She’d followed him, so there was no need for her to beckon her further; she could have her pick of other furniture in his office to make herself comfortable. He certainly had more than enough, which is what happened when he was allowed to design and furnish his own work space.

Although he wasn’t probing her mind, he did overhear the thought, her fear, her concern – that he might read her mind, and that was disappointing. He took no offense to it, because she didn’t know him. But whenever another psychic held those same prejudices of mental powers that the general population had, he grew disappointed. If she feared other telepaths, then she could never grow comfortable with herself. But that lecture would come later, not during her first visit.

Once she was seated, he asked the obvious question. “What can I do for you?”

Sean waited patiently for her to answer his question, already anticipating the onslaught. When she spoke, he was prepared, because it was nothing he hadn’t heard before.

“Telepathy can be scary.” Sean wouldn’t lie to another telepath, not when he had said a variation of those same words forty plus years ago, and then multiple times every year until his graduation from Hammel. “But it can also be very useful.” Beautiful, as well, but he didn’t expect a thirteen-year-old to understand the profound beauty in being able to cut away the pretenses that most of the population had to face on a daily basis. He also wasn’t going to give her the “husk of a kiss” talk this early on in their association. “And as for why you had to be a telepath, it’s luck of the draw. Nobody chooses to be meta-human, and no meta-human gets to choose his or her abilities. If they did, I think we’d have more healers and telekinetics.”

The psychiatrist wasn’t offended by her remark about wanting him to stay out of her thoughts; everyone desired privacy, and with time, she would come to understand that even for trained telepaths, such a request wasn’t always so easy. In time, she would come to resent her psychic ability – and other psychics – less; it could be an uphill battle, but there was time and no other choice. Sean Neville didn’t expect overnight results.

“You’re in the best place on the continent to get help, Jenni.” Hammel was the first of its kind, and the most innovative, despite having no other competition in the States or Canada. Sean had full confidence in their programs, not merely as a faculty member and alumni; that confidence was validated through the comparative rankings of global meta-human institutions which were published periodically, as Hammel was always at the top.

“Since you know that I’m a telepath too, I hope you’ll listen when I tell you that it’s going to take hard work to learn to block other people’s thoughts. Psychic minds aren’t like everyone else’s. Non-telepaths have doors that are closed but don’t lock; we have empty thresholds and keys. Do you get my meaning?” Sean was trying to put this into words that a thirteen-year-old hearing the explanation for the first time would understand, without explaining the precise mechanics of telepathy. “Eventually, you can build a door of your own, one that locks, but it takes time and effort, and you’ll get a lot of headaches in the process. And you’re going to have to share your thoughts with other people; it’s unfortunately part of the package.”

She required a psychic trainer; there was no other option. Sean was adamant about this at faculty meetings, about the necessity of hiring more psychic trainers; although it might appear to be sectioning off metas based on power, he’d seen too many younger psychics who’d struggled along the way because of a communication barrier. It took them twice as long to learn and their shielding remained sloppy in comparison. He’d conducted a study once, the results of which had never been published due to fear of disclosing numbers of psychics globally – and with ever changing disclosure rules, it was for the best. But he still had the numbers. Reaching for his pen, he asked her, “Do you have a trainer yet, Jenni? If you do, who is it?”

She was only thirteen, too young for Sean to hint at, let alone explain outright, the joys of telepathically enhanced sex. She was too immature to understand the emotional component of a relationship in which one touched minds as well as hands, so he would keep that to himself. In a few years, when it dawned on her, he would still be here to give his perspective. He also smiled a bit when she immediately tried to apply the power to crime fighting; superheroes were alive and well in the mind of every student at Hammel. “It lets you help people, by knowing what they need. Not everyone is so good at saying so aloud.”

Such had been Sean’s point when he said so in the first place. Healing was seen as a universal good, a power that was difficult, if not impossible, to fear or hate. Telekinesis was popular too, because it was eminently practical, and straight out of the comics. Sean was too old, too used to his powers to want to trade, but he understood the appeal. “You’re not the first, and you wouldn’t be the last. Healing is more tangible, less confusing. But you can heal with telepathy, too. And you have a whole host of new experiences that you’ll be able to have, once you get a handle on it. I know that seems far away right now, but there’s good to be had.”

“It’s a metaphor, Jenni. You have keys to lock your mind once you build your own door, and keys to help open rusty doors in other people’s minds, or to try to unlock the minds of other psychics. You have to build the door first.” Sean hoped that was a clearer explanation for her, such that she would follow along. “Right now, your mind is wide open, and you hear most everything, and unfortunately you’re projecting a bit too, although for most telepaths, we hear more easily than we speak, at least at first.” So yes, it would be harder to put thoughts into other people at the moment, or to keep it up amongst many people because the ratio was not in her favor. But that would not be permanent. “Once you learn to tune out the noise, your mind will be as closed – locked – as you like it to be, and you can open it to hear, or to speak, as you wish. Does that make more sense? The potential to transcend is there, which isn’t in the minds of any non-psychic person.”

It was unfortunate that she was at the stage where she equated normality and morality, or even the physical and morality. That most people couldn’t do something didn’t make it wrong. After all, the vast majority of the population would never conceive of what went through Stephen Hawking’s mind, and yet only the Religious Right would call his discoveries morally wrong. Jesus healed the sick, the lame, and the blind; that was how he’d been taught to think of his abilities when he was twelve, before Hammel: like a blessing. And although he had stopped believing in the divinity of Jesus decades ago, that lesson, too, had benefited him. “You shouldn’t use the word normal, Jenni, it can be hurtful. And no, most people can’t read minds, just like most people can’t heal the sick, or fly, or heal quickly, but that doesn’t make it inherently wrong. It just means that there are rules, most of which involve respect.” She would learn later.

Sean was not in charge of day-to-day operations at Hammel, nor had he any authority when it came to teacher assignments; although he could make recommendations and requests, personnel was outside his control. However, he couldn’t imagine what the training department was thinking by failing to assign a young telepath to a trainer immediately. He’d essentially been given his dormitory before being introduced to Robert, and Sean firmly believed that he was better off for that approach. Young psychics required trainers, immediately; there was no room for discussion. That she had sought him out because she had no trainer was distressing. “I’ll be sure to get you a trainer – someone who teaches you how to control your powers better – as soon as possible.”

She would benefit the most from a telepathic trainer, just as Ann would benefit from an empathic trainer. Unfortunately, there were no such available trainers, and she would have to make do. The psychiatrist ticked through the list in his head: nobody with a physical power, and Jude’s limitations wouldn’t benefit her until she already had mental shields. Anya was an excellent trainer, but Sean did have a bit of a bias when it came to psychics being taught by other psychics, which left Chase. A different power, one whose control worked in the opposite way of telepathy. Anya or Chase...he’d ask Claude to make the decision immediately, for Jenni’s sake. “There are a few trainers who understand psychic powers, and will be able to help you. They’re very good.”