Plutocracy

Stage 22- The Registry

The twelve Registers sat around a circular wooden table, pinstripe suits and shaven heads their most prominent feature. Four of the twelve had bright blue eyes, the next four's were a deep green, and the final four's eyes seemed to glow with a red light. The eye color reflected the brain modifications and psyternaline injection locations.

Their silence was cut short by a presence in their minds; an unfamiliar one at that.

Greetings, newly minted Registers.

Who are you? one of the Registers thought, sending the sentence to the presence he didn't recognize.

I am Mentor. Your leader.

We have no leader. We are the Registers of this Corporation-

A crippling pain overcame the Register who had spoken, and the others felt tendrils of the assault reach into their mind.

That is an incorrect assumption. Much has changed since you twelve owned this establishment. I take it your memories are intact?

The Registers who were not on the floor, writhing in pain, nodded fearfully.

Good. Now, you may have assumed that, due to your previous roles in this corporation, you will be leading something. That assumption is correct. Each of you will be psionically controlling a small squad of genetically modified Facdefs. These Facdefs--or as they are referred to more recently, Psidefs--have extremely potent psionic capabilities that allow them abilities such as psychokinesis, telepathy, limited precognition and, in rare cases, chronokinesis.

Why do you want us? Do the War Technicians not still have some latent psionic potential?

Recent events have led me not to trust the War Technicians. I believe something beyond my surveillance may be transpiring, although what I do not know.

So we will be using the 'Psidefs' to find the undercover operations?

No. You will use them to help wage war in South America.

There was a moment of dead silence in the minds of all present. Then, seconds later, thoughts of confusion and outrage were transparent among the Registers. Why had they been so foolish? South America was a largely unnecessary landmass with very little resource value.

Who could be so foolish as to--

Those were the recent events I was referring to.

Thoughts remarking on Mentor's incompetence lasted only moments before a wave of mental pain overcame their bodies and locked them into unmoving states of torment.

You will do as you are told and if you attempt to do otherwise I will crush you with the same iron fist the foolish War Technicians were crushed with. Is this understood?

Twelve synonymous thoughts ran through the Register's minds.

Yes.

Good, Mentor replied, releasing the grip and causing all of the Registers to slouch forwards and sigh in relief. Now, I want you to reach out with your minds until you feel the presence of nine identical Psidefs. Control them.

The Registers did as they were instructed, closing their eyes and allowing their minds to wander. They felt the powerful presence of each other, the more distant yet ominous feeling of Mentor, a small black insect that seemed to be just watching them, and then--aha!--the Psidefs. Each one seemed to have a mental 'lock' on them that allowed only one thought pattern to enter. The Registers quickly realized this was to assign each Register with a group, and within moments they found the correct Psidefs for them. Seizing control of their minds, the Psidef's eyes split wide open, the orbs glowing with solid color.

The Neurosurgeon, Egghead, and Thought Engineer watching them from through a glass window smiled and laughed when they saw it. The project had been a success. Their work was going to benefit the company, which of course meant the three of them were getting double if not triple their wages for the next several years.

Each of the Psidef group's eyes glowed a different color, but it was apparent which type of Register was controlling each one. The groups were sorted by psionic potential; more specifically, potential in various categories.

Psionic potential was heavily based on psyternaline injections. The average person has about 0.037 milliliters of psyternaline in their system-or enough to do absolute shit with. When you hit the 0.5 mark, the only noticeable difference is that people around you don't like being near you, although they don't know why.

This is a good time to delve into three questions you all want answered:

1. What is psyternaline?

2. How does it work?

3. Where the fuck can I get some?

Psyternaline is a synthetic chemical that is based off lysergide, or as most know it, LSD. Whereas LSD changes your perceptions of the world, psyternaline changes the world itself. No one is in agreement on how it does this. Some say it works through 'mind over matter', others say it causes grandiose hallucinations. No testing has been put towards these theories, mainly because no one has that much time to waste. This is a good time to address a fairly important point about Arksiane:

No one gives a shit about why or how things work. We just care that they do.

This is true of Arksiane in almost all facets. If something works, don't question it. The Technicians were a great example of this. They would turn up with technology that everyone thought was long lost and charge an exorbitant sum for it; an exorbitant sum that they easily got. No one wanted to know how they did it because it would certainly violate at least nine conditions on the Arksiane Conditions of Service (or the ACS, as most call it).

Each of the different Psidefs 'packs', as they were called, looked around in unison with other members of their pack. It was rather odd watching them; each group performing the same actions as other members of their group. It would take a while before the Registers were able to differentiate between members of their pack. Mentor could do it easily because of how his mind worked; those with under 18 grams of psyternaline in their brains had extreme difficulty thinking in tangents rather than one continuous stream of thought. Most people can't even imagine having several tangents running simultaneously in their mind, rather similar to how most people can't imagine seeing in all directions simultaneously (that's what happens when your bloodstream is 12.32% psyternaline, by the way. And it's just as unhealthy and longevity-reducing as it sounds).

The Egghead, Neurosurgeon and Thought Engineer stepped out of their glass room and walked up to the Psidefs, looking into the eyes of the Registers through them. Without speaking, they handed glass tanks of compressed fluid with shoulder straps (so as to be work as a backpack) containing luminant fluids corresponding to eye color. The Psidefs each put on the backpacks, and after several minutes of back and forth each one had a pack. At that point, the Thought Engineer spoke up.

"The tanks on your back each contain a fluid that amplifies your psionic abilities at long range. Stick together in your packs and you will be able to communicate from South America."

The three stepped aside and a large door opened behind them, revealing a helicopter landing pad containing the jetcopters Arksiane was so fond of for long-distance travel.

They ran out the door, unarmed and unprotected, yet completely prepared to wreak absolute havoc.

Good. Let's show those Outlanders how wars are won.