Empire Airport, Part Two – Make a Mess of Your Life Son

short story about telekinesis

Short Story

 

Xidan was lead in through several layers of heavy iron doors guarded by bee-drones equipped with automatic weapons. They locked him in a room grey and stiff, with several cameras both visible and hidden.

Several hours later in which Xidan did not get up or move from his chair, Feudor walked in and sat across from him.

‘Naturally we would like to know everything.’ Said Feudor.

‘I will start from the beginning then.

‘From very little a started believing that a mess is something beautiful. I am not sure if it is because my parents always fought. Fought to survive, fought to grow, fought with their parents and fought against each other. Or was it because my uncle was a drunk and he seemed to alway to have a good time. Maybe it is because of my gypsy friends who could not stop smiling.

‘I grew to to believe in randomness. The chaos was my only friend and I made no attempt to add structure to it. I made spontaneous decisions and believed in them with passionate conviction. When I walked the streets of Empire City I turned left or right letting the traffic light decide my fate. I believed in fate, or precisely I believed that fate and choice are essentially the same thing. And choices only make you stress about your fate.

‘So I went to school, I took random classes, met random people, read random books that those people recommended. I ate random food, visited random places and had random conversations about religion, the cast system, trips to Thailand and on which side is the grass greener. This tornado of randomness kept my social circle always infused with young people who could only sing and joke.

‘Gradually, however, I grew tired of joking. Mostly because randomness itself became repetitive. The mess became boring and fate was not doing me any favors. I wanted to build but I could not build on shifting sand. I attempted to leave randomness behind and add structure to the chaos. At first it felt impossible, various parts of the mess were so tangled in my routine that would constantly pull me back, call me, text me, email me preaching that randomness is the only religion.

‘But I knew I needed a new religion and I needed it pretty soon. I committed to new rituals and new more serious jokers. The mass of past chaos subsided, condensed and distilled into a firm body of wisdom. Clarity and vision emerged and ability followed soon. I used to let fate make my choices for me. But now I held my fate firmly by the throat. I became picky, isolated at first. Isolation and meditation induced creativity. I understood that fate throws a plethora of things at you in every aspect of life and you have to sift through them and be picky. As picky as humanly possible. Never settle for less. People around you will despise you for it. They are fools. You will not have friends. Only fools need friends.

‘If you want to learn how to converge a nuclear submarine on a entire city you need to drop your old friends and find new ones. Find friends that will teach you to lift up a spoon and tie it into a not. Friends that will meditate with you on new methods of telekinetic synthesis. You need to create a support system of rebels like yourself. And never look back.’

‘This all very interesting but we are not interested in your motivations but rather in your acquaintances.’ Feaudor paused. ‘Why are you telling me all this?’

‘Because I have never told it to anyone and sharing is the first step to becoming friends.’

Feudor was the most powerful telekinetic hacker working for Politburo, but he could not get inside Xidan’s head. Technically he could. All access points were open and he was inside an empty room. As if Xidan’s mind was a blank sheet.

‘Becoming friends?’ He was forced to carry on the verbal exchange of information. Something he has not done in a long time for the could easily read the mind of anybody he encountered.

‘Yes, because me and you are going to kill every agent on this airport and converge four AN225-s on that hideous arrow that symbolizes defeat.’

Xidan’s conviction and clarity of diction were not hidden so Feudor knew he was very very serious.

‘Entertaining, so this is an interview?’ Asked Feudor.

‘Interview is a good way to sentiseze it.’

‘You are telling me that you are here, in this confinement, because you chose to be here.’

Xidan thought that was beyond obvious and did not answer.

‘My question is Why?’ Continued Feudor.

‘Even without accessing my mind you know that answer to that question.’ Answered Xidan without hesitation. To him even Feudor’s perfectly trained powerful brain was an open book.

‘I need to confirm my theory.’

‘Because you and me are the only people that Can do it.’

Feudor could see the tail of that statement but had to ask.

‘What is the bigger Why?’ He drilled deeper.

‘You know there so no bigger why. We play the biggest game we can find and know can win.’

‘There must be a bigger why than the game itself!’

‘There is not. And if you peruse a bigger why you will go blind.’

There is no bigger why. Thought Feudor. Xidan could see his every thought so he responded.

‘I can give you examples of bigger whys. Because the war was unjust. Because the ruling class is perverse with power. Because the house always wins and this is a chance to rock the house to its foundations. Because the government is corrupt. Because the common person does not have a say. Because revolution is the only solution. Should I continue? The only true answer is because we can!’

‘What makes you think that I will join you?’ Feudor snapped back.

‘Because you are bored. Because I can control anything and anybody in this world but you. Because our deeds matter more than us.’

Feudor slowly turned his head to the camera on the sealing.

His superiors realized that he was considering the offer and pulled the plug.

Both man in the sterol room could hear the security doors closing and latching on the outside. All personal from the five security zones was evacuated in minutes. The two most powerful minds in the world were sitting calmly on the table locked behind seven layers of corridors and iron doors.

Xidan had his eyes closed and was mapping the complex in his quantum core pinpointing the location and exact count of the heavily armed bee-drone soldiers.

We will need a more central location. Thought Feudor without speaking knowing that only Xidan will get it.
Suddenly Xidan’s quantum core opened. A door in the empty room lead Feudor to another room. Xidan didn’t let him in on his entire mind but only the information he needed to know. Which was the following.

A quantum map of the abstract location with the optimum reach to the four AN225 and the arrow. And a kill switch that would start a chain reaction eliminating every single Politburo unit on the airport.

The best way is up. Explained Xidan without speaking. Feudor started drilling. The layers of iron and concrete above them gave dying cries. Feudor was turning them to dust, crunching and creating an opening. Not very large just enough for one person to escape this prison. As the escape route opened into the room, hundreds of bee-drones swarmed in. Just before they fire Xidan stopped them and rearranged them in a floating formation facing the escape route. When the last drone was under his control he reconfigure the drones in a elevator platform. Both hackers climbed on it and arched the outer end of the hole which empties in the middle of an empty runway.

We are walking distance. Explained Xidan without speaking. They started for the converging point, optimally located in respect to the arrow and the four AN225-s.

 

next: Empire Airport, Part Three – Pilot In-Between Flights

previous: Empire Airport, Part One – Vacation

all chapters: Empire Airport

more by MILEN VASILEV

photograph by Sarah Holmes

 

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