Cindy Psi: Spy In Training
Chapter 31: Home Again

“Well, I suppose you must be Cindy,” Ms Tarkington surprised all three of them by saying.

“Yes, yes I am. How do you know?”

“Well, I think maybe the best thing is if I tell the three of you my story – I think it will contain the answers I think you want to know, and will save all of us some time.”

“Please.” Said Selma.

“Ok. Well, I wasn’t born Emelia Tarkington. As far as I know, that’s a made up cover name. My name was Deirdre Roberts a long time ago. I was from old Earth, working as a waitress, no hope, no future, and certainly no chance of getting off planet. My days were spent ferrying plates around a lousy café in a lousy part of town, dreaming of something more.

“One day, this woman shows up. She’s got some fantastical story about needing to take on a different identity to do some undercover work for the GCC. She says she’s been watching me, she knows I want a different life, and she’s got an offer for me.

“She said, and I quote, ‘I want you to become me.’”

“Of course, I was taken aback, and part of me wanted to laugh in her face and show her the door. But another part of me, a much deeper part, was curious. If this was a chance of something, anything other than what I was doing, I felt I just had to hear her out.”

I hope this is going somewhere, Justin sent to the other two, impatience in his tone.

Shhh, sent Selma, annoyance in hers.

“She explained that she’d been assigned an identity to keep her safe after an operation she’d just completed. She said she’d helped uncover a galaxy-wide black market stream operation, but that she’d upset a lot of people in the process. She said her superiors thought she was in danger and wanted to bury her in a false identity indefinitely.

“However, she went on to tell me that she suspected her superiors themselves were dirty, and she wanted to keep working the case. But to get them off her scent she had to make her superiors think she’d assumed the deep cover – and that meant someone had to become Emelia Tarkington.

“As you can probably guess, that’s where I was to come in.”

It’s not far from the truth in a funny sort of way, Cindy sent to the other two, if you think of her superiors as being the GCCSC.

Yes, the best lies are always the ones closest to the truth. Selma sent back.

Do you think whoever it was kind of – you know – influenced her to listen? When she said she had to hear her out?

Hmm. Maybe. It’s tough to use the talent to influence, but not impossible. Anyway, keep listening.

“Of course,” Ms Tarkington as was continued, “I needed more than just the chance of a different life to convince me to do this. I needed something tangible. And I got it.”

“Money?” Selma asked.

“Money.” She replied. “Quite a bit of it. G20,000 up front and an annual stipend of G5,000 on top of my annual salary. Not to be sneezed at. And on top of that I got to travel to another planet, a nice one, and have a good job as a high school teacher. It was like a whole new life. I mean, sure all the spy business sounded a bit scary, but not as scary as staying back on earth, working as a drudge until I died alone somewhere in a bedsit wishing I’d done more with my life.

“I jumped at the chance. And I tell you what, for the past ten or fifteen years it’s been the best thing I ever did. Until this morning.”

“What happened this morning?” Selma asked.

About time we got to something interesting, Justin added. Selma just replied with a mental tsk.

“I got a message on my PCD. It was from a contact I didn’t recognise – it wasn’t in my list, but she identified herself by knowing all about my deception in years gone by. She claimed to be the woman who approached me all those years ago. She said her cover was under threat, and they might be coming after me as Emelia Tarkington as well. She said she’d heard that a special agency that GCC ran that trained people from childhood to be assassins were after her. She said that she’d heard that one of their crack new recruits was a young girl of around 12 called Cindy.”

“So that’s how you knew my name,” Cindy said aloud, adding to the others, Kind of close to the truth again. Whoever she is orchestrating this, she seems pretty sharp.

Yes, Selma replied. Cindy detected a kind of mental nod from Justin.

“Yes. I panicked,” Ms Tarkington continued, “that’s why I ran. But I’m sorry, I don’t believe the GCC would train children to be assassins.” And now she looked frightened again as she added, “You’re not, are you?”

“No. We’re not.” Selma said, “But she’s partly right. We do work for the GCC.”

“Spies?” The woman asked, somewhat incredulously.

“What, a twenty-three year old and a couple of teenagers? Don’t be silly. No, we work for a special corp. It’s probably best we don’t tell you about it though. But we do need to know about the woman who set all this up all those years ago.”

She’s never going to settle for just that, Justin sent. But Ms Tarkington surprised him by replying:

“Yes, I think you’re right. I’d rather not know any more. All it would do is make trouble for me. But I’m sorry, there’s very little I can tell you about the woman …”

I’m going to ask for a description. See if you can get a mental image, Selma sent to Cindy, then said aloud “Can you describe her at least?”

“It was so long ago. I guess she was medium height, slim build, my age. She had dark, almost black hair. It was tied back …”

As she spoke, searching her memory for details, Cindy dropped into mindspace to see if she could get a picture of the woman being described. What she saw made her gasp out loud. She quickly covered it with a cough as the others glanced at her. “S-sorry,” she choked out. “Need a drink of water I think. I’ll be fine.”

As Ms Tarkington continued her description Cindy looked again to confirm what she had seen.

Yes. It was by no means clear, the mental picture being drawn made hazy and indistinct by time, but Cindy could swear it was an image of her own teacher, Ms Primp. She waited for the woman to taper off before asking: “Did she give you a name, or any contact information?”

“No. I never knew her name. All she ever referred to herself as, and all that came through on the PCD message was her initial.”

“Which was?”

“She called herself Ms P.”

After this Selma asked a few more questions, and then she said to the woman, “Ok, I think we’ve learnt all we can from you, and it’s been a help. We’re not going to take this further, and we can probably help smooth things over with Mr Werner. But can we trust you to not breathe a word about us to anyone?”

“Yes! Oh yes, you can. I promise,” Ms Tarkington formerly Roberts said earnestly. “I won’t mention it to anyone. But look … am I safe?”

She means it. Justin sent. She’s planning to keep shtum.

“As safe as anyone ever is in this galaxy,” Selma said. “Alright, well, you should probably head home and be ready to head back in to work tomorrow. A doctor will be in touch with your principal explaining the 24hour sleeping virus you’ve had that left you dead to the world and deaf to the sound of your PCD. Everything in your assumed world will be back to normal before you know it.”

“And what about you three?”

“Well, we’re off to find this ‘Ms P’.”

“Good luck.”

“Thanks. Something tells me we’ll need it.” And with that, the three of them set off toward the tower they came up, leaving a bemused and relieved looking Ms Tarkington behind them.

I think I know who our real target is, Cindy opened with.

Yes, I thought you might. Selma sent. It’s your teacher, right?

Yes. Ms Primp. I can’t believe it. But in some ways I can. I tried to read her once, not long ago, and I got pushed back. It wasn’t like reading anyone else. And then Tess mentioned her in my dream, which was weird. And, wait, Justin …

Yes?

Were you actually in my dream? When I was in the infirmary?

Yep. I pushed off that weird little kid with the glowing eyes.

George.

Is that his name? He’s a bit of a weirdo.

He’s been through a lot. Don’t judge him too harshly.

Hmm. I think it’s more that you shouldn’t cut him too much slack. You be careful of him. That eye thing is not a good sign. And as Justin sent this Cindy was aware of a sideline exchange between him and Selma.

Whatever. Well, anyway, if you were helping me, then thanks.

Think nothing of it. There was a slight edge of sarcasm in Justin’s tone. Cindy ignored it.

What are you doing here anyway? Selma sent.

Haven’t you guessed? He sent me. Wanted you to have some covert cover in case things went south.

Yes, I suspected as much.

Well, he’s got a special interest in this case.

Enough. Ok. Cindy, Justin is one of our agents. He’s been in the field for over a year now. Evidently The Controller wanted him to give us some backup but didn’t see fit to tell us.

Yes, I heard. Well, three is better than two when we’re tackling something like this I guess.

There, you see? She wants me here, Justin sent to Selma, his tone smug.

Yes, well, she hasn’t done any field work with you before.

Look, I got the target on Roux didn’t I?!?

Yes, but you nearly exposed the whole GCCSC!!

But I didn’t!

But you might have!

But I didn’t! Acceptable risk.

When you’ve done five years in the field you can talk to me about acceptable risk, but not before.

Cindy thought she’d best step in.

Um, you two?

Furthermore … Selma was sending before Cindy’s sping stopped her in her tracks. And, with a mental sigh, she continued, Yes. Ok. Sorry Cind. Justin and I have – um – history. You probably guessed.

Yes. But maybe we need to stay focussed on the job at hand.

Justin laughed out loud. Just say what you think, kid! He sent. You’re the boss! Definite sarcasm in the tone this time.

She’s got more common sense in her little finger than you’ve got in your entire body, Selma sent, and then, following quickly before Justin could respond, added You’re right, Cind. And the next step is pretty clear.

What’s that?

We need to go see your teacher. We need to take you home.

As the three of them walked out of the apartment where the girls had popped by to pick up their things Cindy asked a few silent questions of the older two.

So normal people – did you call them ‘norms’ Justin

Yep.

But don’t use that term Cindy, Selma added, it’s rude. Justin just made a face.

Oh, ok. Well anyway, normal people can’t hear mindspeak then?

No. Nor send it.

But I can sort of ‘hear’ what they’re thinking.

Yes, we can get impressions. Think of it like watching a stream – you can hear what the actors say, but you can’t speak to them, and they can’t speak to you.

Good analogy, Justin sent. Cindy looked for sarcasm in his tone but he sounded serious.

Thanks. Anyway, it’s a bit like that.

Yes, I get it, Cindy sent.

That said, like you were asking Selma earlier, we can influence them in some ways …

Justin … Selma sent, her tone cautionary.

Oh, ok. But we can.

Yes, which I’m sure Cindy will learn about in her own time. This isn’t that time.

Ok, ok. I said ok. Anyway, here we are.

The three of them had reached the public transporter station. “Well,” Selma said aloud to Cindy, “Ready to head home again?”

“Home again,” Cindy said, full of emotion she hadn’t had a second to try and interpret, “I guess so. I guess I am. Will I be seeing my Dad? Or Tess?”

“Not if we can help it. It would be kind of tough to explain away.”

“Oh. Yes.”

It’s never easy, kid, Justin sent with surprising compassion when he saw the look on Cindy’s face, believe me, I know. And then he added, with a wry tone, But remember what they say, ‘the galaxy first’

Cindy smiled at the reference. The galaxy first.

So home again? Selma added.

Home again. Cindy replied, and the three of them climbed onto the transporter platform.

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