"They gave our protectors faceless masks. How are we to trust them when we don't even know who's underneath?"

  -Unnamed citizen, Ollion-Prime public debate

  Mara followed the overcoat man out of the med lab—Arcadia Medical, based on the sign they passed—through a back entrance, avoiding the main lobby where P-Sec might still be lingering.

  The afternoon sun felt good on her skin after the sterile white room.

  She still didn’t trust her guide, but other than doing something on his datapad a few times and speaking into his comm, he hadn’t done anything suspicious.

  "Wait, we're in the nice part of the colony? I'm not allowed here." Mara said.

  "Based on your condition, Arcadia was your only option," the man said.

  She should have realized he'd brought her to this district, which had gates and guards checking IDs at them. She'd tried to get in once for a job Tobias had given her, but never came close. The idiot probably tried to set her up, as he wouldn't even give her nicer clothes to fit in.

  "So where we going then?" Mara said.

  The man looked back. "You'll see soon."

  The promise of food made her mouth water. Would he actually let her order anything she wanted? Did restaurants even sell nutrient paste? Probably not, and she wouldn’t order it anyway.

  The man stopped at the entrance to a building with a sign that read Lunar Port. It sounded more like a bar or a store for imported goods, but if it sold food, who was she to judge?

  He held the door open and gestured for her to enter. Darkness surrounded her, and cool air brushed her skin, and when her eyes adjusted, she gasped.

  It was as if she walked into space, or how she’d always hoped it would look.

  Stars covered the ceiling, fibre optic lights giving off a multitude of colours, many twinkling. Cloud-like nebulas were scattered throughout the space and hung overhead, their shapes ebbing and flowing.

  Small model ships flew through the air on designated routes between mini planets, and two frigates engaged in a choreographed dogfight near the centre of the room. The staff were in costumes, some looking like freighter crew and others in spacesuits.

  Mara spun. "Did you take me to a kids’ restaurant?" she deadpanned.

  "Based on your reaction, I don’t think you dislike it." He pointed at her back. "I saw the models in your bag and figured you'd like it here."

  Of course he did. Her cheeks felt warm, so he'd seen the models in her bag.

  A server wearing a spacesuit a few sizes too big guided them to a private corner. The ceiling above had been modeled after the origin system, and a Mule-class freighter zoomed past a slowly rotating Saturn. Was that the Mk II Mule? She only had the Mk I—would anyone notice if it disappeared?

  The server handed both of them a menu before leaving, and the man had sat down across from her. "I should probably introduce myself finally. I’m Maxwell Anders, although most people just call me Anders." He looked at her expectantly.

  "Ugh, I’m Mara—most people call me gutter trash or street rat," she said.

  "I think I’ll stick with Mara. If that’s okay with you?"

  She brought her menu up to block his view of her, as her cheeks heated again. "Y—Ya, that’s good."

  Mara looked through her choices as a distraction. Burgers, steaks, pasta, and salads. She’d never even had any of these. Her eyes drifted to the prices.

  Nine hundred credits for most of these meals! Six days of working for Tobias—if she kept all the credits herself—for a single meal? Those cheap tickets to Lunis had to be a scam. Was the seller's version of the megacity some fake warehouse in the colony they just called Lunis?

  She'd only saved up a little over twelve hundred before Tobias discovered her theft, and that would only buy a meal here? She slumped in her chair.

  Was this how normal people lived? She looked at Anders as he browsed his own menu. Did he even bother looking at the prices?

  The server returned and looked at her. "Ready to order?"

  "Um. Burger with fries and gravy… also a fruit punch." She returned the menu.

  "Excellent choice." He turned to Anders.

  "Steak, medium-rare. Water’s fine."

  The server left, and a pulse of energy enveloped both of them. She narrowed her eyes at Anders.

  "So, you saw that?" Anders asked.

  "Yes. What sneaky shit are you trying to do now?"

  "It’s just a sound-dampening field, as we don’t need anyone hearing our conversation." He gestured around them. "To anyone outside, it’ll look like we’re eating quietly. I did something similar at the med lab, but you might not have been paying attention."

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  Oh, her breakdown, right? Guess that made sense. It seemed as if he'd been testing her. The smug bastard.

  He pulled out his datapad. "If you’re comfortable. Let’s take turns asking each other questions." She nodded. "Alright, run me through your day yesterday. I've read P-Sec's report, but still want to hear it directly from you, and most of the events after the warehouse I already know, so no need to cover them."

  Ya, since he had been stalking her, maybe she should report him to P-Sec…

  She started with the basics—her quota, being late, skimming.

  He stopped jotting notes down. "Where’d you get the skimmer? I wouldn’t expect a gang leader to pass those out easily."

  “I made it myself. It was an old datapad I found,” she said.

  His eyebrows rose, and he wrote a few more notes before gesturing for her to continue.

  She went through her run-in with P-Sec—both times—and the immense flash of anger when she got shoved. He nodded his head as she detailed her arrival at the warehouse and the following events.

  He stared at her. "You’re sure he stabbed you? Abilities or not, healing that fast would be unheard of."

  She didn’t want to delve into those memories again. But how much had actually happened? Why did it seem like there was a gap somewhere? Even with being unconscious, there had to be more to it.

  "I think so? It’s hard to remember since those memories are blurry," she said.

  He tapped his datapad a few times. "I think it’s safe to say you had a psionic awakening yesterday."

  "If by that you mean I can suddenly hear and see things I shouldn’t, like that lady behind you clicking her teeth on her fork with every bite, then yes—I agree."

  Anders glanced over his shoulder. "Interesting, psionic powers present differently in everyone, though that’s a greater effect than most get."

  Great, why did she have to get stuck with the oversensitivity? Psionics, so that's what they were. She'd heard of them before, but always chalked them up to be a weird myth.

  Their server returned and dropped off their drinks. She took a sip and recoiled at the sweetness. How did anyone drink this?

  "Is there a way to turn it off? Like the crazy senses? It gets a little annoying," Mara asked.

  Anders leaned back in his chair. "Not exactly. With training and focus, you can tune it out enough to avoid the issues I’m guessing you’re having, but that takes time. I don’t really count that as your question, so go ahead. What's your first one?"

  Her pulse rose. There was one looming question she had, but did she want to know the answer? Her hands sweated as she played with the napkin in front of her.

  “Did… did I kill them? The warehouse, I mean?” Her voice small.

  “Do you think you did?” Anders asked.

  “I don’t know. Tobias stabbed me, I’m sure of it, and then something happened and he dropped me. That look on his face, it was sheer and utter terror.” She could only stare at the table. “I woke up in that alley, but how did I get there? If something else had been there behind me, why did it let me leave? Why am I alive?”

  Anders leaned forward, his gaze steady and sharp. “Although we don’t know the full situation, and I doubt anyone ever will. I don’t think you killed anyone. The psionic energy that was released… was immense. It’d have killed all but the strongest psions, and I don’t see how a newly awakened could harness that much strength, especially seeing you in that alley.”

  Her breath hitched. It might not have been her?

  Is that why everyone was following her then? They were trying to figure out if she knew who the attacker was?

  Some unease lingered. Why would something only leave her alive? Was Anders telling the truth? It seemed like a very fortunate coincidence that she awakened these powers around the same time the attack happened.

  Her mind caught up with what he'd said. "What do you mean about the alley?"

  He cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. "You killed two people there."

  "I know, I—I'm still processing that, but I did it to defend myself. I just don't want to hurt people unintentionally, you know? Not being in control of my actions."

  Then she truly would be a monster.

  "When you want to talk about it, I can listen." He leaned back, staring at a freighter as it made its pass around Jupiter. "You almost killed yourself."

  Her stomach dropped. The blood, her hands. It had been that bad? "What happened to me? It was like someone had taken a hammer to my head, and it was only two punches."

  "And a third would have killed you."

  "Why though?"

  "Psionic feedback. The human mind isn't meant to withstand that amount of energy." He pushed back some hair close to his ear, pointing to a small metal device there. "Psionic amps help to control and direct the energy, alongside amplifying the strength. What you did would be akin to punching the air and relying on the shockwave to kill. It's a messy way of doing things and dangerous." He took a sip of water. "And yet, you had enough strength without an amp to slam two grown men into a wall eight feet away."

  That was a lot to think about… She practically almost ruptured her brain. If she had one of those amps, would there have been anything left of those gang members?

  "You shot the third one, the guy who ran?" she asked.

  "He was a witness," Anders said.

  She swallowed. "Oh."

  Their server arrived with the food and abruptly ended the conversation. The aroma was intoxicating, and it took everything she had not to tear into her meal.

  Her first bite may as well have been life-changing. How could something be so flavourful? Anders smirked between bites, and she stuck her tongue out at him.

  They were halfway through their meals when Anders spoke next. "My next question is, are you doing anything you can think of to hide your energy signature?"

  She finished dipping a fry in gravy and ate it. "Um, no? I don’t understand how any of this works. Is that even possible?"

  "Yes, I did it myself in the hospital so you wouldn't run away from me."

  Her eyes widened. "Is that why you kept disappearing when following me through the colony?"

  "I was trying to see if you could actually track me or not."

  He had been playing games with her the entire time?

  "So why does it matter if I can hide my energy? You can," she said.

  His gaze swept across the room. "Because what you're doing shouldn't be possible. Any trained psion can dampen their energy to practically nothing. But doing so cuts them off from using their own powers—they become mundane. Blind." His eyes narrowed. "It's a strategic choice, one you don't seem to have to make."

  "So I can hide myself and still see others? That seems useful, but not that exciting."

  "It's not just that. What happened in that alley, I sensed nothing. Mara, you killed two people with an excessive amount of energy, almost ruptured your brain, and I wouldn't have even known you were a psion if I hadn't been there to see the aftermath." He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "If the UEC knew, you'd be a weapon—not a person to them. They'd want to examine and even dissect you to understand how you're doing it."

  Mara dropped the fry she had been eating, and her appetite vanished. This had been a trap.

  Her breathing came in quick gasps.

  Anders snapped his fingers in front of her face. "Hey, don’t fall apart on me. I’m telling you this as a warning, so you understand the severity. I have a solution and don’t intend to leave you to fend for yourself."

  She stared at her previously wonderful meal. Would it be the last she’d get? Her voice was a whisper. "And what stops you from just using me? Why would you help me? If I’m so dangerous, why risk it?"

  "I don’t expect you to trust me, but if I wanted to use you, I’d have captured you in that alley and hauled you off to a UEC lab. Bringing you to eat at a place I thought you’d like wouldn’t make sense." His gaze softened. "As for helping you? Maybe I want to make up for some of the things I’ve done? Maybe I see potential in you that others would snuff out? Few have your kind of fire."

  Could she trust him? What was this so-called plan of his?