Power Swap: Conspiracy to Think

[Cee Cohen]

September 9th

It had started out innocently. Or to Cee’s mind it had. On the 5th of September, a bunch of weird stuff had gone down. Students were complaining all over the place of things going wrong, of powers being wrong, of students having hard times. Dr. Neville had actually left that first day, and the rest of the teachers had done their best to cope, although he’d heard it was the trainers who had more of a problem.

And as for Cee—well, Cee hadn’t really been able to cancel classes. There didn’t seem to be enough subs to go around, and as he was nonpowered, there seemed to be the general assumption that he would be fine. And Cee didn’t say anything else to dissuade it, but the fact of the matter was he felt pretty weird. And he kept…hearing things.

Now a reality was that Cee had been, for a long time, pretty convinced that he was on the wrong side of crazy. Believing in zombies was not what normal people did. But he was pretty sure that he’d managed not to hear voices in his head before, especially not ones that sounded like students. And they seemed to be coming all the time. What was with that?

It took a day for Cee to realize had not just completely lost it. It took another one to realize what exactly the voices were, back at home, alone, as he realized that the thoughts seemed to relate to what his neighbor seemed to think about things--especially when it came to the occasional popping explosions that came from his apartment. And that was why, on September 9th during his break, Cee knocked on Sean’s door at Hammel and stood at it, beaming.

“I have telepathy! Yours specifically, I think.”

[Dr. Sean Neville]

It was a testament to the strength of Sean’s mental shields and the decades of practice dedicated to developing that skill that, whoever inherited Sean’s powers was not a complete mess on the verge of mental breakdown.

It was a testament to how well the psychiatrist had adapted to his powers over those same decades that he found coping with the absence of his telepathy to be so difficult. The first day had proved almost entirely impossible, once realization had dawned upon him. The day after, Sean had come to Hammel although he had been largely useless, insofar as any ability to do his job or provide insight was concerned. He and Josh spent the weekend trying to find methods by which to cope, both with Sean’s loss as well as with Josh’s newfound abilities. Research conducted by Hammel in the intervening days led to the belief that somehow, power potential was jumbled up within Pilot Ridge.

Fortunately, this didn’t seem to affect the areas outside of the town radius, which was some consolation. However, since there was no official cause as of yet, there was no way to undo the situation.

By Monday, the former telepath had calmed somewhat; he no longer ate ice cream as though his life depended on it. He was doing his best to cope with the current situation, and, while his sessions were slower than his schedule had been before then, he was doing work.

Upon hearing the knock (although not coupled with his typical sense of who was located outside) followed by Cee’s declaration, Sean blinked in surprise. “You have my telepathy?” He repeated with a slight frown. “What makes you say that?”

[Cee Cohen]

What made him say that? Well, maybe because he could hear what his students were thinking before they’d said anything or done anything about it. He could tell when someone was going to rip out a cord and could stop it before it happened. Maybe it was because he kept hearing his neighbors in his head when he really, really didn’t want to. Maybe it was because he now knew what everyone thought of his little conspiracies and of him. That, and his nightmares had gotten worse.

Okay, they’d been pretty bad before. But this time it felt like people were pressing in on him. In fact, the only reason he was sure that this was Sean’s telepathy because it hadn’t been worse.

But that thought was distracted from him as he caught the thoughts coming from Sean, and his lips turned down.

“I didn’t realize that it would be that hard on you,” he said, then blinked, startled. Personal insights were not the norm for Cee, and he wasn’t quite used to them coming so…easily. “I sincerely hope it changes back shortly. And I’m glad that you are back at work.”

Then he shrank a little. “I suppose that’s what makes me say it. And the fact that I’m at your door. You have most likely noticed that I have been avoiding your office—“ although not Sean, as he rather liked the man when he wasn’t in a professional setting “—almost since I began here. Doesn’t the fact that I am here indicate something odd?”

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Unlike some people, Sean didn’t mind having his mind read. As a student, it had been inevitable. Once he had developed his mental shields and reached his full power potential (and honed his skills), it became a less frequent occurrence. Still, Robert had always read his mind, and the psychiatrist was comfortable with that state of affairs. It had been a decade since someone had been able to blindside him with reading his mind, but it wasn’t unsettling as he knew that it could be for non-psychics.

There was a bit of miscommunication, since Sean didn’t doubt that Cee had telepathy. The presence or absence of telepathy was immediately noticeable; it was striking in its obviousness. Enough social progress (and legitimate depictions of telepathy as opposed to pure fabrication) had been made that mental illness was no longer the obvious, or only, answer to hearing mental voices.

Still, there was a large difference between gaining telepathy (proven possible with recent events) and possessing Sean’s powers, and that was what the psychiatrist had asked. Because if Cee did have the older man’s powers, then that created a number of questions.

However, he focused on what the younger man had actually said. Not about avoiding his office, but about the former telepath’s current state of mind. “It’s a sense like any other, and the sudden loss is no less distressing than to loss my vision or hearing.”

Sean then shook his head to himself and heaved a soft sigh. “Do you need help with learning to cope?”

[Cee Cohen]

It was a good thing that Sean didn’t care if his mind was read. Cee had already gotten into quite a bit of trouble for doing that to other people, and yet had completely failed to grasp why he was having the issue. That was the social cluelessness talking for him. He was going to be bad at this, he knew, but that was no surprise. So lately he’d been doing his best to keep his mouth shut.

Still, he was fairly sure he’d gotten Sean’s powers. Part of this was because he was still sane, not a normal thing with telepathy. Another part of it was the range, which was alarming, to say the least. And the last was, well…he was pretty sure he’d managed to manipulate his landlady into forgetting the last little explosion, and that wasn’t normal, right?

Cee nodded. He got the loss of a sense. Very well, as it happened. “I’m sorry,” he said with perfect and, surprisingly for him, articulate sincerity. “I know that is difficult. Losing a sense leaves you feeling a bit helpless.” He’d gone through that when he was just a kid. He’d lived, yes, but it had been a bit difficult.

At the sigh, surprisingly, he perked up. “Nope! I am actually functioning within normal parameters. I have gained new insights into my neighbor’s minds, but that is nothing I cannot handle.” He smiled at Sean. “I was wondering if you could drive me to D.C.? You could take the day off. No one would be particularly upset.”

[Dr. Sean Neville]

That was one way to describe the loss. Cee’s description was better than referring to the situation as a power glitch, which was marked improvement over a previous conversation that Sean had shared. However, while he could hear the younger man’s sincerity (and he knew that Cee had personal experience with the loss of a cherished sense), the remark still sounded glib, due to the sheer magnitude of the situation. He didn’t merely feel helpless; he had felt helpless before, and while he disliked that feeling, it didn’t compare with this utter inability to function at the level to which he was four and a half decades accustomed.

“I find it remarkable how well everyone else seems to be coping, by comparison.” He was hardly the only person affected, and Sean didn’t believe that he was the only person who used his powers so frequently. But the unconscious certainty and familiarity with which he approached everyone and everything in life was lacking.

He then nodded slowly as Cee described that he had the situation under control. The most recent hypothesis from the Research Department was that the powers had been transferred with the same degree of control as had belonged to their proper owner. If so, then Cee also had the benefit of Sean’s refined control, his mental shields, and all of the other fruits of forty-four years of focus and familiarity. As opposed to when the older man had first developed his powers at the tender age of twelve. “That’s good.” He didn’t know what else to say.

The question caused the psychiatrist to perk up as well, although without any of the jocularity that Cee displayed. Washington D.C. was not a day trip from Vermont; they were more than 500 miles away from the nation’s capital, which made the drive between nine and ten hours before one had to factor in the traffic to be found around the major metropolitan areas along the way. In order to go there and back, and to accomplish anything that didn’t involve nightclubs, would require three days (two for travel, particularly at this hour, there and back and one to actually sightsee).

That was why Sean couldn’t find that to be a serious proposal. “Why do you need to go to Washington D.C.?”

[Cee Cohen]

To be fair, Cee’s remarks usually came across as glib. It was hard to tell when the younger man was being serious or earnest, especially when his earnest times tended to come across as so ridiculous to everyone else. Nor was his seriousness usually applied to matters that anyone would actually…consider to be serious. It was a negative aspect of the whole thing, he admitted to himself. But he did feel sorry for Sean and a good deal of sympathy, so he decided not to say any of that aloud.

Cee nodded. “I comprehend that. It is quite an interesting period. Some students have been handling it better than others. I know the Phoenix boy and Oriel have been having extreme difficulties, but that is no surprise, as they appear to have become, ah, Gestalts.” That had been one of the odder ones. Interesting. But he suspected Sean was having difficulty coping as well—his telepathy was the main component of his life.

Cee was pretty sure he did indeed have the shields. Positive, in fact, based on the fact that he’d managed to shut a lot of things out that he shouldn’t have been able to do otherwise. But he could tell the other man didn’t know what to say, and he offered him a faint, sympathetic smile. “I am feeling that perhaps you aren’t…sure about this. I apologize. I recognize that this is a difficult situation, and I appreciate your patience.”

The man, however, had no idea what a day trip to DC involved. For one, he’d never been except on a flight. For another, he didn’t actually drive and so didn’t know how the process worked. So yes, he was being extremely serious.

“Because that way I can prove zombies truly exist!” He beamed. “Oh, please, Sean, let me do this.”

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Interesting was not the word that Sean would use to describe the situation. Interesting was a clinical phrase that failed to capture the sheer chaos and misery that this situation had caused to a number of people: students, faculty, townspeople, everyone. Josh was afraid to sleep, so many students, such as Phoenix and Oriel, had their lived turned upside down, and the psychiatrist had little interest in leaving his office because he felt as though he was suffering from a massive disability.

“Oriel and Phoenix are having a particularly difficult time,” he murmured. As were Naomi and Orion, insofar as their lives had also turned upside down. Orion was happier, since he had not been keen on the gestalt merge, but everything was wrong.

“I trust your ability to gauge the powers that you’ve inherited.” Which was true.

They were at an impasse because zombies, as Cee defined them, did not exist. Every diplomatic, however, Sean did not simply shout that at the other man before requesting that the technology teacher leave his office in peace. Instead, the psychiatrist chose to reason with the other man. “I have a foster daughter and a partner at home who can’t drive and is trying to cope with a strange, new ability.” One that, given Josh’s subconscious baggage, was a poor fit for him indeed.

“It’ll be three days round trip, and I’m frankly not in a position to be able to drive 500 miles in one direction, let alone to double that.”