Work Text:
Telepath's Wish
by Lucinda
How could they do this? How could they betray their own people like that? The questions kept spinning in his mind, along with a tide of rage. Al Bester sat in the small guest room that he had on the station, and glared at the wall.
The Corps was mother, the Corps was father. That was one of the first things a telepath learned, especially those, like himself, who were born and raised among telepaths. But what sort of parent would do such a thing to their children? What sort of callous heart could send the telepaths away to be enslaved by those shadow-spiders? He might have been able to follow the reasoning if they'd been sending away the untalented, very few of those were of much use anyhow, but to condemn telepaths like that? It was unthinkable to him, and should have been unthinkable to any of the telepaths.
Except that clearly, it was quite thinkable to someone.
What made it even worse, he didn't know of anybody that could help. Maybe some of the people on the station would want to help. Probably more to oppose those shadow-spiders than to help the telepaths, but what could they do against PsiCorps? They were just a handful of ungifted administrators with a scattering of alien maybe-allies.
Opening a bottle of whiskey, he poured himself a glass. It burned, and he resisted the urge to cough. Maybe the burning in his throat would distract him from the rage? Or at least give him something to focus on instead. Or maybe not.
"Could you pour me a cup of that?" The woman's voice was completely unexpected.
She sat down on the other end of the couch, her clothing looking oddly casual. Her brownish-blond hair brushed her shoulders, and she wore no gloves or badges of any sort, let alone of station security, who should have been the only other people to be able to gain access to his room.
"Who are you?"
"Call me Anya." The woman shrugged, and looked at a ring on her left hand, with a small diamond. "Consider my being here... good luck for you. You're not in my home dimension or my normal type of client."
"Client?" He blinked, and tried to read her mind. There was a feeling of age, and power, not quite like a telepath, but something else. And he couldn't read her at all. "What are you?"
"That's both complicated, and nothing that you need to know about." She waved her hand dismissively, and poured herself a drink. "I deal in vengeance. You really don't need to know anything else."
"Maybe I do. The Shadow-spiders deal in power, and the prices that they never mention are quite high. What is the cost for what you offer?" He narrowed his eyes, remembering the slivers of information that he'd caught from the thoughts of the station administration.
"Under very specific circumstances, I can change reality. I can use that to grant you a wish." Her smile was every bit as cold and calculating as anything he'd ever seen. "What you ask for will be changed. Other things - ripples, side effects - will also be changed."
"That sounds... difficult to believe." He murmured, trying again to touch her mind.
"You can't read me." She was smirking now, an infuriating _expression. "Consider it. My offer is as straightforward as things get. You say the right words, I change reality. Things will be different, according to what you asked for. Maybe it will be better, maybe it won't."
"So, you say that you can change things, but give me no assurances that it will be for the better?" One eyebrow arched, and he shook his head. "I don't find that reassuring. Why are you here?"
"Because... this is the anniversary of the death of someone that I loved, and you... You remind me of someone from one of his favorite entertainments." Her voice was soft, hints of old pain and grief flickering through.
He wanted to be offended at her reasoning. But then he remembered one particular telepath currently in cryogenic suspension. Maybe motivations that had nothing to do with him or PsiCorps could still be enough. "How do we do this then?"
"You say, 'I wish' and follow that up with whatever wish you think will be most likely to fix things. And really, this is a lot more information than I'm supposed to give you. Normally, the plan is show up when the mortal's in pain, and wait for the right words to slip out. Then, I change reality and you try to cope with the new one." Her words were calm, as if this was perfectly ordinary for her.
He thought about it for a few moments, figuring that this was the sort of thing that he'd likely only get one shot at, assuming that the woman wasn't simply insane, which sounded quite likely. The shadow-spiders were definitely trouble, and they needed to be dealt with, but... Slowly, he started to smile as things came into focus.
"I wish... That I had the power to protect the telepaths from future dangers and that ways were found quickly to repair the damage done to the ones already hurt by the soon to be previous leaders of the PsiCorps."
Her face changed, looking almost raw, as if the skin had been peeled away and her veins dyed dark. Power flared from her like a tidal wave, and her voice echoed in his ears and mind - "Done."
The last thing he heard as reality reshaped itself at the excruciatingly slow speed of thought was her voice, a soft call of "Happy holidays."
end Telepath's Wish.