Chapter 7

WHUMP!

SCREECH ... BOOM ... tinkle ... crash!

"Shit!" Rose almost never heard her father swear. but his eyes were in the rearview mirror, looking shocked.

Looking back, she saw a large truck sitting across the traffic lanes behind them. The front end was on the other side of the road, blocking part of that traffic as well. There was wreckage everywhere.

*Lena! What happened? Are you ok?*

*I'm ... fine. Just before the crash there was something ... some big psychic burst in your general vicinity. Then the crash.* Lena's tone got more upset, *I was watching when it happened. The cars with the men in them ... both were destroyed. Like they were the targets or something.*

Rose had never seen Lena lose it like that. She was always the strong one, keeping everyone else together. The kidnappings, the torture, the other horrors she had told Rose about - the ones before they met - for everything that was bad, she was a center of (relative) calm.

But not now.

"I need a 'com. Quickly. Please!" her mother gave her a brief look, then handed over her eCom. She punched in a number from memory.

"O'Connor" came the professional sounding response. The figure looked at the screen. "Oh ... Hi, Rose. What's up?"

"It's Lena. Something bad happened here, and it got to her. Badly."

"What happened?"

"I'm not sure. She was mind talking to me, then something upset her, then there was a ginormous crash behind us. Then she was even more upset. She needs her friends."

*I'm ... I'm ok. It was just a shock, that's all. Thank you. Both of you.* Rose hadn't remembered that Lena could talk to more than one person at a time.

"Thanks, Rose." Angel assured her. "I'll take it from here."

The connection went dead.

Rose wished she hadn't thought of it in those terms. She handed the 'com back to her mother, thanking her mechanically.

"What's wrong?" her mother asked.

Rose paused a moment, considering. "It's Lena. She was watching and talking to me when the accident happened. Something about it hit her hard."

"Should we be worried?"

Rose deliberately chose to misunderstand. "I don't think so. Her friends - her other friends - are on the way and they should be able to take care of her."

"Young lady!" Even without her abilities, Rose would have understood the intent behind that one.

"I don't know. Some of the people in the accident were following us - me - when they got hit. They were wearing thought shields, so Lena couldn't be sure. She thinks they have been watching us for a couple of days, but that they didn't seem inclined to do more than follow and watch."

"Hmmm..."

They were almost to the Museum by then, so they decided to continue with their plans.

Rose had one somewhat unnerving moment, when she was asked to help with a tour group. When she got to the staging area, the group was oriental, and some of the men were dressed in suits. She was a little relieved to feel her power kicking in, indicating they spoke a language she hadn't learned.

It turned out that they were from China, and were in town for a convention of some sort. Their tour guide had slipped on some ice at a previous stop, and was getting medical attention. The company that arranged the tour was sending another guide, but he was not there yet.

Teamed with one of the regular docents, she took the group around the Museum. At times, she described the exhibits and answered their questions based on her own knowledge. Other times, she relayed the questions and answers. She was really in her element when she took them through the traveling exhibit - her exhibit - giving them the VIP treatment.

While they were intently examining one of the displays in that exhibit, the docent pulled her aside.

"Why am I even here?" The docent's question was angry and hurt. Rose knew she had to make it up to her.

"You are the one who knows where to go, and when. You know how to make them enjoy the tour, and get the most out of it. Sure, I speak their language, and know a few things about the exhibits from the years I've been here, but you are the director ... the docent. Without you, it would just be aimless wandering and random facts."

As Rose spoke, she watched the docent's reactions. By the time she had continued in a similar way for a few more minutes, the docent clearly felt better. She took up the tour with a renewed energy and enthusiasm that made the tour a lot better for the group.

The tour went well, and they were thankful for her services. One of them offered her a tip, as token of their gratitude for her stepping in at the last moment. She had to decline, explaining that it was against Museum policy. However, they were more than welcome to make a donation to the Museum on their way out.

As one of the women in the group shook her hand, Rose felt a piece of paper being pressed into her hand. Her first thought was that it was another attempt at a tip, but the paper did not feel right. She put it in her pocket, then waited until the last of the group was out the door.

The docent was starting to thank her as well, and she acknowledged the thanks but pleaded an overfull bladder. Once safely in a stall and ready to take care of business, she took out the paper and opened it up. Her first thought was that it was gibberish. The neatly lettered message was in the usual alphabet, but the words were meaningless.

She tried sounding a couple of them out, and then she understood. It was the same Chinese language that the group spoke, but written phonetically, using American conventions. After she puzzled out the message, she was glad she was where she was. The note disintegrated, and the dustlike residue flew between her legs and into the toilet. She took care of her bodily needs with unusual vigor.

It was a warning. There were three groups interested in her father's negotiations, and her part in them. One was a group inside the company he was negotiating with, and the other two were outside. One of the outside groups had arranged the accident, as a message to the other two.

Finally, it indicated that she had at least one friend in the process, part of a group that was more interested in the activities of the other three groups than in the negotiations themselves. She was not sure how comforted she was to think that the "friend" was watching her in there, and had the power to do that to the note. In fact, it was kinda creepy.

She spent the rest of the day in the exhibit, losing herself in explanations of cave paintings and ancient lifestyles. She was extremely happy to be so busy.

Despite her assurances, Lena was anything but ok. She had a splitting headache, and had a weird, very unpleasant feeling in her head - something she had never encountered before. And both got worse when Robin flitted her to the one place she was most likely to get the help - and the answers - she needed.

The spa.

There, she got checked out and herbed. But more importantly, she got comfort, information and perspective. This situation was one which crossed many normal barriers. The entire community of local telepaths - except for a couple of "secret" telepaths - was involved. And even the secret telepaths were helping indirectly. Police, government and military types, criminals, corporate workers, freelancers, and even the youngsters - everyone. It was that much of a threat to all of them.

Working together, and with a number of their less-local compatriots, they quickly formed a fairly complete picture of what happened.

The mind blast was a powerful result of a rare combination of psi abilities and raw power. There were only three people in the world known to have the ability, and none had been known to be in the US. None of them had more than a 50 mile range with it because of the nature of the combination. They quickly narrowed it to one of the three.

He was a powerful - and very expensive - freelancer. He was 'ported in about two hours before the blast, and out immediately after. Unlike the other two, he had a particularly fine degree of control - he could confine the effect so narrowly that others would be hard pressed to detect it, or take out the better part of a city block.

The truck driver was an innocent. He was subtly maneuvered into place, and then blasted. His mind was destroyed, and his body crudely but effectively controlled.

The accident itself killed 9 people (including the truck driver), and seriously injured 17 more. The mind blast killed one nearby telepath, and sent three others to the hospital. 23 others, including Lena and (secretly) Mrs. Tabor, suffered lesser effects.

They had been allowed to find out more. There were four groups (not counting the two companies) that were interested in shaping the outcome of the negotiations Rose and her father were involved in. One, an ultra nationalist group in Japan who objected to international ownership of Japanese companies, had hired the contractor as a way to send a message to the other interested parties. The widespread effect was deliberate.

The five "businessmen" were subcontractors, hired by two other interested parties from the Neo Yakuza to watch (and potentially take other action against) Rose. One was hired by a group within the target company, with a hidden agenda. The other by a rival company, with plans of its own for the target company.

The fourth group was largely unknown, with an equally unknown interest in the matter. The telepaths knew about Rose's note (and its disturbing exit), since she hadn't thought to shield the information.

Conferencing with a speed and effectiveness otherwise impossible, they made some plans. For the public and all but the most select parts of the local governments and police, the driver had an undiagnosed, rare condition that resulted in sudden death by brain embolism. Nobody's fault (not even his or his doctor's), just a senseless tragedy happening in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Select elements of the police and governments (US and otherwise) would get a more complete report ... eyes only. Those elements, in turn, would make the decision about who in Rose's family or her father's company would be told what. It was acknowledged that Lena and her friends would be watching over Rose.

On that note, the conference dissolved.

After they got home from the museum, Rose pulled her father aside for a private talk. She told him the rest of what she'd learned about the groups interested in his negotiation. He nodded and said that it explained a couple of things. When he didn't elaborate, she got a little impatient.

"So what do we do about it?"

"Nothing." He replied, then relented. "Well, you don't need to do anything. When we go in tomorrow, I'll warn a couple of the more trustworthy people at the company, and they will take it from there. You and I will just go on as planned. I suspect it will take a while for the groups to get more people into place."

He didn't entirely believe it, according to Rose's gift. But he firmly intended to do as he said.

Her next step was to call Angel, and ask about Lena. Before she could finish dialing, she had her answer.

*I'm fine.* came the familiar mental voice. *Just a little shaken. Thank you for helping, though. Robin got me to somewhere I could get the help I needed.*

*The Spa?* Rose asked, remembering the aftermath of the horrors in the basement, and suppressing a shudder.

*I forgot you knew about that. Yes, the Spa. They got me fixed up and helped me get more information.*

They swapped information about the "accident", with Lena leaving out the body count and the specifics of the attack. She did tell her about the nature of the group that hired the killer, though.

It made sense. And it scared Rose spitless.

Still, she was reassured to know that Lena was ok, and that the whole thing was over for the moment. She also felt safe, knowing that her friends were looking out for her.

After spending some more quality time with her homework, and making sure it was safely sent to the Dean's email address, she joined the family in front of the tube for some good old fashioned mind rot. Somehow, they all seemed to feel that was the right entertainment for the evening.

During the breaks, there was a discussion of what she should wear the next day. While it was mostly between her parents, with a few suggestions from Tara, she did get a word or two in. Eventually, an outfit was decided on. It fell somewhere between her "good" school clothes and her Formal Occasion outfits. The partial emphasis on the schoolgirl look was intended to help make the other negotiators underestimate her, while the more formal parts would help avoid any excuse to exclude her.

After a quick good night to her family, and another to Lena (quickly returned), she was off to sleep in no time.

And all too early, she was (more or less) awake again.

Despite the technicalities, this was effectively her first day at work. She was nervous and a little excited. She dragged herself into the bathroom to take care of the immediate necessities, then took her shower. She washed more thoroughly than usual, for fear of making a bad impression.

She dressed just as carefully, and was ready to go. She and her father would be stopping for breakfast on the way, and he would be briefing her about the negotiations. With quick goodbyes to her mother and sister, they were on their way.

The condemned girl ate a hearty breakfast. The restaurant they had eaten at before still didn't seem very kid friendly, but at least the food was good.

The office was the same as before. But this time, knowing that it would be for real made it even more daunting. And the looks and body language of her father's co workers hadn't softened, either.

The conference room doors were closed, but the window shades were open. Inside, there were people sweeping the room with a variety of instruments (none of which she recognized). Standing outside the room and watching, were three oriental men in business suits. When she got close enough, she noticed that she didn't get a new language from either of the closest two. The third, however, gave her a sensation she recognized. It was the same feeling she had from her Gram - someone who speaks one language she knew and a second language she didn't. She absorbed the new language, then turned her attention back to the other two. There was a ghost of the feeling, as though they also spoke two languages - two languages she already knew.

The third man was a little different, now that she knew his other "unknown" language. He seemed to know three languages, two of which she had already known. And those two were the two the other men knew. She guessed that the two common languages were English and Japanese, but she had no idea what the third language was.

A small light by the door went out, and the technicians came out. They gave a gesture partway between a nod and a small bow, and indicated that the suppression field was fully functional.

While that was going on, two other people from her father's company joined them. She recognized them from the practice session. She acknowledged them, and they her. Once the techs were done with their report, the two groups of businessmen came together. Her father introduced the other men on his team - and her - to the oriental businessmen.

In turn, the older of the two-language men introduced himself and his team. He asked why she was being included in the negotiations, and her father answered that she was there as an interpreter, in case language problems came up. The man's body language and tone of voice expressed his reservations, even as he formally indicated acceptance of the explanation.

Once they were settled into their seats, Rose felt the oppressive indication that the suppression field was in place. From that point on, it went from bad to worse. The practice session had been mild compared to this one, and she didn't have the way out she had used then. They had scheduled breaks, but until then, she was stuck.

The others seemed to know something about her. They started saying things - false things - quietly, in the hope that she would pass them on. As they had practiced, she passed them on quietly with a subtle indication of their validity. More annoyingly, they quietly made some very personal, very embarrassing comments about her (and her father). Those, she didn't translate - especially the ones that they somehow seemed to believe. With the help of some of the exercises and perspective Lena had taught her, she managed to avoid reacting to them.

By the time of the first scheduled break, she had learned another valuable lesson: it was far better to be thirsty than to have to sit there with an overfull bladder. She would try to balance the two, but just to be sure she added an extreme absorb pad where it would do the most good.

In the longer than usual session after lunch, where they seemed to be trying to take advantage of the usual after lunch lethargy, she came to appreciate her precautions. She was also glad that she had eaten somewhat cautiously - a chicken salad without dressing - when the field clamped back down on her. All in all, it was a tense, miserable experience for her.

She was not having fun.

It was a relief to get home, even though that meant working on her homework. Somehow, her usual stress over the homework just didn't seem all that important. She was later than usual, so dinner came before homework this time. She barely noticed what she ate, or what was said around the table.

She was barely back into her room, when she "heard" a familiar "voice".

*Tough day, huh?* Lena "sounded" sympathetic.

*You don't know the half of it!* Rose grumped. *I don't know how those people do it!*