The Dust

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We have come to the understanding that reality is not a unit. It is made up of layers, stacked atop each other.

Special Agent Grace Kerran had a way of frowning and pushing imaginary hair out of her eyes that let those around her know when she was agitated. She'd worked the Irkalla beat for five years, but made it out with her good name and dignity intact.

The man across the desk from her was a Federal officer by the name of Lorsen. He managed to make even the austere Federal uniforms look good, moving with the dignity and grace of a veteran operative. Grace turned her eyes away from his, but Lorsen was used to that. He was a powerful presence.

"We're looking for a woman. Have you ever heard of Marisol Sepil?"

Grace forced her eyes back into contact with his, ignoring the intensity. She wanted to seem honest. The last thing she wanted was a Federal sticking his nose in her business.

"No. Why are you so interested in her?"

"That's classified. What's important is that you have a great record, and we think you can really benefit from a chance for promotion."

"Promotion?"

"Come on, nobody comes to police Irkalla because they want to. They go to Irkalla because these scum don't have enough disciplined workers with clean records to staff a corner store, much less a police station. You're from Jefferson. Wouldn't you like to go back there?"

Honestly, she didn't.

"What has this woman done?"

"Do you really need to know?"

Grace leaned back. She was going to win this round.

"I've never gone after an innocent yet. That's something not everyone can say."

"We don't care about that. We want you for your combat performance. Marisol is a dangerous woman."

"Danger and guilt are separate things."

"Fine, she's a 'path."

"Come again?"

"A 'path."

"I thought those were urban myths." Grace sipped her coffee, feeling the bitterness wash over her tongue. The neurachem gland meant that she never got over the taste; they changed the way your senses worked so that you could tell if it started to leak. She had just learned to bear it all over again, enjoying the stimulation. The Federal paced back and forth for a moment, realizing that he had said something he shouldn't have.

"You cannot, of course, share that information with anyone. Marisol has reality warping powers. She was able to escape from a Federal facility, and we believe she's gone to Irkalla to hide."

"Why Irkalla?"

It was the agent's turn to feel smugly superior. "Because this is where everyone goes to hide. It's the place the law is the weakest. If you're guilty, you run here."

Grace shoved an imaginary strand of hair from her field of view, frowning a little. She resented the officer's implications, but he was the one the Federals chose to be in charge. His wish was her command.

"All right. I'll help you find her."

The words were hollow, but he seemed happy. She began looking over the case file, noting the details. Apparently Marisol was a top priority for someone very high up.

The psi-null phenomena is to remain a secret for the time being. Naturally occuring Class I and II telepaths are easy to play off as frauds. As Class III and above does not occur naturally, only a small number of such individuals are to be engineered.