Chapter 32: Showdown
The three of them arrived at the transporter room in Tenterfield on Oliver County. Cindy felt her breath catch as they stepped out into the idyllic rural setting – home! She thought. It felt like it had been years since she was last here, when in fact everything that had happened had taken place in less than two months. It was difficult to believe, and Cindy found herself faltering a little.
Hold it together Cind. We’ve got a job to do. Selma’s tone was not unkind.
I know. Well, it’s past let out time – shall we just go straight to the school?
I guess so.
The three of them headed off down the road towards the red-roofed building they could see in the distance.
Hold on, I’m just going to check … And Cindy was aware of Selma dropping into mindspace. Yes, she’s in there alright. I can feel her. Immense power. We’re going to have to be careful.
Have you called in the olds? Justin sent.
Just on it, replied Selma, and soon another voice joined them.
Hello you three. We’ve been keeping an eye as best we can. Interesting dream the other night Cindy!
Hi Dave! Cindy felt relieved to hear his voice. Then, more sheepishly she added, sorry about that.
She felt the comforting tone spanning across the vast distance from Adriá. Don’t worry about it. You couldn’t help it and I don’t think anyone heard the – um – broadcast that shouldn’t have. As you’ll be aware we have Louise in here as well, and The Controller.
Hi you three – good work so far. That was Louise; The Controller remained resolutely silent, but Cindy was aware of his presence – and again she was aware of that odd familiarity about him – even stronger this time.
Right, Dave sent before she had time to dwell any further on that, we need a strong merge and then we’ll go in. We’ve recon’ed the building as well. As far as we can tell, it’s only our quarry in there. I’m sorry it turned out to be your teacher by the way Cindy but I must confess I had my suspicions.
Cindy had been thinking about this when she’d had time – for her, the more she thought about it, the harder it was to reconcile. Did you? She sent. I don’t know, it seems kind of … wrong … to me.
Well, it’s always hard to come to terms with someone you know well living a double life. Cindy detected some kind of subtext when Louise sent this, but let it lie.
Will you link us up please Cindy?
Ok. She sent out a silver cord to each of them – the two with her, the two on Adriá, and she had no idea where The Controller was, but it didn’t seem to matter. She felt each of them join in much like when they had linked to release Rebecca and George. It was as if they were sharing a common mindspace.
Being in mindspace meant Cindy was aware of the powerful force emanating from the school in front of her. It was daunting in the extreme, but, supported as they were by the experienced and powerful psychics in the mindshare, they stepped through the gate and approached the school.
Are we just going to walk in and confront her?
Yes. It was Dave.
Another showdown like when we were playing hide and seek on Adriá?
Exactly that, but with you in the room with her you should have access to a lot more force.
But, came another thought, carefully neutral in tone (The Controller, thought Cindy) we have to assume she knows we’re coming. She will have her Turgs behind her – possibly even more of them than she had then. We must be cautious. And united.
You’ve got it boss, sent Justin, with what Cindy was quickly finding to be slightly tedious irreverence.
Ok, well we might get more of an element of surprise if we don’t use the front door, sent Cindy.
What’s the option? Selma asked.
There’s a door around the side – it leads straight into the west corridor. My classroom is just along from it.
Good idea, sent Dave. Lead on.
Cindy led the other two around the side of the school, keeping the mindshare active as she walked. She came to the fire escape door she had referred to. Mentally checking the latch, she found it was open. As she walked up towards the door, she felt a thought stirring in Louise.
Wait, why is it open?
Cindy had the door in her hand and was just stepping through as this thought came. Selma was behind her, with Justin third.
Cindy! Wai …
And all contact was cut off. The door slammed behind Cindy. The others were trapped outside, and the mindshare was severed. She looked helplessly out through the glass panel of the door at where Selma and Justin were frantically trying to open it. It was clearly closed with more than just hinges and latches. Cindy tried to push against it, but it pushed her back. She was locked in.
She looked out at Selma, who stood looking through the glass at her. Selma pointed a finger at her head and mouthed the word “blocked”. She mimed her hands hitting an invisible wall around the building. Cindy understood – it was like a protection zone such as they had around the training room on Adriá.
She was aware of Justin and Selma talking in mindspeak, presumably with the others as well, so they were still able to do that outside – they just couldn’t get in to her.
Cindy thought a moment.
Eventually she reached an inevitable conclusion. There was nothing for it – she was going to have to go and confront her nemesis alone.
Cindy walked down the corridor. She saw her room ahead on the left. She found she could still drop into mindspace, and in doing so she was instantly aware of an immense aura of power emanating from the room – glowing outwards with a malignant silver light. A silver light tinged with green. Cindy crept toward the glass panel of the classroom door.
There she was. Ms Primp was sitting at her desk, staring straight ahead. The look on her face was completely impassive.
Cindy was a raging torrent of emotions. This was all overwhelming. She dropped herself deeper into her mindspace and tried to find some calm within. She found a little, and, with great self-control, figured it would have to do. She stepped into the room.
Good afternoon, Ms Primp, she sent. It sounded trite, but as an opener it would have to do.
Nothing.
The force was thrumming now, beating against her. She dug deep and focussed in on the woman in the chair.
We know who you really are, she sent. We know you were led astray by the woman years ago. We know you’re siding with the Turgs. We know you set up a decoy to throw us off the scent on Valentine. It’s over.
Still nothing. Cindy took a step closer.
Something was wrong, but it was hard to determine what in the turmoil of psychic power flowing around her. Ms Primp? She sent, but with no response. She sent out a probe, trying to engage, and quickly discovered the shocking truth: Ms Primp’s mind was blocked off like Rebecca’s!
Just as Cindy realised this the side door in the back of the classroom opened.
And out stepped Ms Pembroke. Jacinta’s mother.
She was radiating force – overwhelming power. Cindy recognised it from the two confrontations she’d had previously. It was pushing her down, and in her shock she wasn’t prepared to defend herself.
Everything was falling into place. It wasn’t Ms Primp – wrong Ms P! It had been Ms Pembroke all along. It explained so much. When she had tried to read Ms Primp’s mind at the parent teacher night and got pushed back Ms Pembroke was already there. She’d been laying this false trail all along.
Yes. Came the cold, malicious, and triumphant thought. I have. And all leading up to this. I told you I would meet you again Cindy Parker, and I told you I would destroy you, and destroy you I shall.
Every word was like a blow, and this last one was devastating. Cindy sent out a line and realised the woman was being backed up by hundreds … thousands of Turgs. They were channelling into her like lines of green infection, swelling her with immeasurable, insurmountable strength.
So funny, hearing you tell this teacher woman what you know, when there is so much you don’t. Including the one big thing that will be your undoing.
Cindy finally found some courage. She started to push back. It was hopeless, but she had to try.
What … are you talking … about? Cindy managed to send, all the while struggling to withstand the onslaught of pure psionic force that was cascading against her.
About your Father.
What about my Father?
This is priceless. Foolish girl – I told you she doesn’t know. Cindy was aware of Ms Pembroke sending a message to her Turg army. This seemed to generate much humour among Turgs, or what passed as humour for them.
[It doesn’t know] [It is greatly foolish] [It is no threat] [It is not worthy of time]
An instant later, nudged by Mrs Pembroke, she realised the truth.
Her Father …
Her Father was the Controller.
And that meant her mother must be …
Yes, Cindy, your Mother is the monster who made me. And your father is the monster who made your mother. And you … you are the deceived little insect who I will crush as easily as I could swat a fly.
Cindy’s world collapsed around her. She could no longer withstand the staggering, evil force pushing against her mind from Ms Pembroke and the Turgs. She collapsed to her knees.
Everything was blurring and swimming as the force beat her down, and down some more. Wave upon wave of mind-crushing power. All the while she was thinking – her Father! Her Father! How could it be? Cindy kept striving to block the incoming force, to sustain herself, but her mind was in turmoil. Her Father. Founder of the spy corp, and the man who damaged her mother.
Daddy.
And her mother! On the side of the Turgs! And some kind of hate-filled monster, all locked away for the sake of the galaxy. It couldn’t be.
But it was. She knew the truth of it: she knew her mother was the giant face in the dream, and somehow, nonsensically, Cindy knew this was proof. And as Ms Pembroke advanced towards her, smiling evilly like a Halloween pumpkin, with silvery, psychic force streaming out of her, beating Cindy down, Cindy’s mind started to falter, and her defences started to slip.
But he can’t be …
* Wham! * A blast of psionic force knocked her thoughts off track
But wouldn’t she …
* WHAM!! * Bigger, more relentless, more devastating this time. Cindy started to feel like she was losing her mind. Losing her self.
I …
* WHAM!! *
It’s …
* WHAM!! *
They …
I …
Help me …
Cindy stopped moving. She was collapsed on the floor. Defeated, motionless, alone. Her last essence was draining away, and soon she would not be able to maintain anything. She would be lost.
* WHAM!! *
Cindy’s frame shuddered on the ground. A vague notion of the now distorted, monstrous woman closing in.
* WHAM!! *
A pause …
Then at the last, she felt something. A presence. Again, the mind she recognised, but didn’t know, there, with her. This is what it said:
Cindy.
Succumb.
Let the force in. You need to surrender before you can win.
Surrender? Succumb? To this? It would end her. It nearly had ended her.
I … What … I can’t …
Trust me. The voice came again, and with it, a hint of power flowed in. Just a tiny bit, but maybe enough.
I know how this plays out. Your Father is a good man. Surrender.
Cindy tried to comprehend this, but her mind was all but lost, and what wasn’t lost was chaos – alien hate hitting from all sides like lava landing on a lake. Heat, steam, turmoil, pain. Within this the massive, thudding, surging of corrupted and awesome power. Cindy was dazed. Trust? Surrender? How? She hardly even knew who – or what – she was anymore. It would be so much easier to just give in. To let it go …
And yet …
Her Father was a good man.
Surrender.
He was a good man.
Trust.
…
And, an instant from final defeat, Cindy felt a primal instinct that whoever this presence trying to help her was, it was the one thing in this universe she could trust. She didn’t know how, but she knew it to be true.
She let her final defences drop. She let the attacking force flow into her.
Waves of malevolent silver light beat against her inner mind like waves crashing against her soul, pummelling her with spite, greed and hatred. Her whole essence, her very being, was torn, rent, split asunder. Fragments of what was Cindy split apart, splintered, silver shards, shooting off in all directions. Her mind was being peeled. Yet, at the same time, at some level, it was being cleansed.
And as the shell fell away, shredded off by silver light, there remained her inner essence.
A core of pure, shining gold.
She is Cindy Parker.
Beautiful on the inside.
Slowly, surely, Cindy stands. A golden, glowing form; bright as twenty suns.
Now the onslaught continues to rage against her, but she feels nothing, just the tiniest buzz. Her mind feels clean, clear, vivid.
She stretches out a hand, bemused by its shining, golden surface. The alien mindlines continue to beat against her with growing frustration as, oblivious to them, Cindy splays and clenches her golden fingers in fascination, first one hand, then the other. She twists a wrist, notes with bemusement the shimmering trail of golden light her fingers leave behind as they move in the air. She begins to step slowly through the chaos, towards Ms Pembroke, who is visibly growing in both rage and desperation.
And fear.
The lines of silver force, so powerful and overwhelming a moment ago, continue to beat against her as she walks, but she hardly feels them. She stops for a moment and takes hold of them, gathering them up in a glowing golden bundle. Keeping the one, strongest, human strand aside that connects her to her primary quarry, she becomes aware of the Turgs at the other ends of the other lines, all spread across a distant galaxy, thrashing against her, now captive, now trying to escape. She smiles. She sends them a message, drawn from when she first confronted one of them, so long ago:
I have come.
Using her core of seemingly boundless power she sends a surge of fierce, gleaming, golden life essence down each line. The mindlines flare into non-existence as this force flows through them, obliterating them, following them to their sources. She is dimly aware of thousands of Turgs flying backwards across thousands of alien rooms as the connections sever in explosions of golden light, and they are beaten. She pays it no mind. Walking towards her primary enemy, holding her fast with her mind, she is once more in the place of control, that place of power that she was last in all that time ago.
You have lost.
“I surrender,” Mrs Pembroke stammers, forgetting she can even mindspeak in her fear.
There is no need, comes the all-encompassing thought, as Cindy looks into Mrs Pembroke’s mind and finds the small, silver source of tainted power that sits within it; the source of her talent. She muses on it a moment. Faint, fragile; what had so recently been a mighty, destructive force she now sees as a tiny flame.
And with one, brief burst, she snuffs it out.
And that will do, came the voice from earlier. Cindy became aware of her physical surroundings. Mrs Pembroke was on her knees, sobbing before her. Mrs Primp was still frozen in the chair – Cindy would have to deal with that. But before she did …
Who are you?
Another time. You need to go and sort things out, and I think maybe a chat with your Father is in order.
Yes.
And be gentle on Mrs Pembroke. She’s evil, but she’s harmless now, and losing her power could well be considered punishment enough.
You are right. Well … thank you.
There is no need, the voice comes back.
And then it was gone.