Minds of Men (The Psyche of War Book 1) Read online

  “Right, then,” Ledoux said. “Adamsen, you’re assigned to Captain Carl Peters. Baker...”

  * * *

  When they walked back out into the rain, Evelyn was unsurprised to find Mary hot about the compressed timeline.

  “I cannot believe this!” the feisty blonde said as she once again hooked her arm through Evelyn’s. “How in the hell are we supposed to establish a psychic net with a crew in less than twenty-four hours? I mean, really? Do they expect us to make whoopee with all of them?”

  Mary’s indignant and inappropriate suggestion startled Evelyn into a giggle.

  “Mary!” she said. “Keep your voice down! You know that’s not what Ledoux meant. The colonel either. I’m sure he just doesn’t know what all it takes to create a viable net. He didn’t even know we existed until recently.”

  “My eye,” Mary muttered, giving a delicate snort. “You know he was briefed on our capabilities before we got here, whether he knew about psychics beforehand or not. That man’s not going to let an unknown up in the air with his boys. No, he knows exactly what he’s asking of us. There’s only one way to create a deep, solid connection in that short amount of time, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to whore for the US Army Air Corps!”

  “Mary!” Evelyn gasped. “Really, I know you’re angry, but keep your voice down. Besides, even if he was briefed, I don’t think the colonel realized what it sounded like he was suggesting. It’s just...You’ve heard the gossip as much as I have. These crews are getting eaten up by those German fighters. They need a better way of doing things. We wouldn’t be here if they had any choice. He said that, didn’t he? So I just think—”

  Evelyn broke off as a low, buzzing hum came through the mist. A shout went up from somewhere. Men emerged from buildings nearby and took off running toward the sound. Evelyn let her arm drop to grab Mary by the hand, and the two of them started running as well.

  “I just think he’s out of time,” Evelyn finished in a breathless undertone as they splashed through puddles to join the crowd gathering near the flightline.

  Off in the distance, the two girls could see a ragged line of aircraft heading toward them under the low ceiling of rainclouds. The first aircraft in the line trailed smoke from one of its inboard engines. As they got closer, Evelyn could pick out other signs of battle damage. Next to them, a man was counting softly.

  “How many went out?” Mary asked him. The man looked at her, did a double-take, and then looked back at the incoming formation.

  “Twenty-two,” he said softly. Evelyn did a quick count of her own. There were fourteen aircraft starting their final approach. Mary gave a soft gasp, and her free hand came up to cover her mouth. The man looked at them again and gave a small, sad smile.

  “Don’t worry too much,” he said, though his eyes were bleak. “If they got shot up pretty good, some of the birds might’ve set down at other airfields near the coast, or ditched in the Channel.”

  He looked the two of them up and down quickly. “What’re you dames doing here, anyway? You gotta man on board one of ‘em?” His tone was sympathetic.

  “No, we’re WACs assigned to the 381st,” Evelyn said, shaking her head. “Just arrived. Ah...where will the crews go after they land?”

  “Interrogation,” the man answered, pointing to a large building marked “Operations.” “They’ll be in there about an hour and then come out to get some chow. What’re WACs doing here? I thought they were keeping you all back home to free men to fight?”

  “Thank you, we must go,” Evelyn said quickly, and pulled Mary along toward the Operations building.

  * * *

  As a little girl, Evelyn had been taught not to listen at doors. So, though she couldn’t hear anything, it felt more than a little bit wrong to be lingering outside the Operations building’s main briefing room whilst the crews finished their interrogation. She and Mary received their share of curious—and more than one blatantly interested—looks, but no one questioned their presence. Apparently the WAC uniforms were enough of an explanation.

  When the doors finally opened, Evelyn had to hold back a gasp as soon as the men started filing out. Ever since she’d shown signs of psychic ability during early adolescence, she’d been trained to shield her mind from others’ emotions and thoughts. It was the first skill any psychic learned, and she was confident in her ability to shut just about anyone out of her mind. But nothing could have prepared her for the men who exited that room.

  A wave of tearing exhaustion overlaid with the absolute icy cold of futile grief made Evelyn’s knees buckle. Mary’s hand tightened in hers, and Evelyn knew that her friend was also fighting the overwhelming emotions that came pouring out of the briefing room. One by one, the men with the battered psyches came closer, exiting the room in twos and threes. Their proximity made the fraying pain worse, until Evelyn could no longer stand it. She turned and bodily shoved her way through them, pulling Mary after her out into the soggy chill of the English afternoon.

  For once, Evelyn welcomed the cold, wet fingers of rain that managed to get inside her collar and up under her hair. She stopped a few yards outside the door and lifted her face to the rain, drawing in deep, ragged breaths. Mary’s fingers slipped from her grasp, and a few moments later, Evelyn heard the sound of her friend retching behind the corner of the building.

  “Is she okay?” a softly masculine, American voice asked. Evelyn took another deep, steadying breath and slowly opened her eyes. A man stood in front of her, wearing a creased uniform and a hat that had already begun to develop the characteristic “mission crush” that came from being worn under headphones. His brown eyes looked empty and haunted...but a wave of concern rippled out from him, smoothing over the rough edges of his exhaustion and pain. He reached out a hand, as if to take Evelyn’s shoulder, but the young woman flinched away.

  “No,” she said softly. “Please don’t touch me. It makes it worse.”

  The man froze, his expression going blank. Evelyn felt insult spike through the morass of his other emotions. She shook her head sharply, her eyes going unfocused as she fought to slam her mental barriers into place. They’d been overwhelmed by the sheer enormity of the aircrews’ collective pain and fatigue, so it took some work, but no more than a heartbeat later, Evelyn’s shoulders straightened, and she focused on the man’s face again.

  “I’m so sorry, sir,” she said, noticing for the first time the captain’s bars that glinted on his uniform. “It’s just...Mary and I didn’t know. We didn’t realize how bad it would be in there. With all of you together, the pain...It was overwhelming, and we weren’t ready for it.”

  The captain’s eyes narrowed.

  “I don’t understand,” he said. “What pain? Did someone in interrogation hurt you?”

  “Yes, sir. I mean, no, sir. Not directly.” Evelyn shook her head again, unable to find her balance and clearly articulate her thoughts. With her full barriers so firmly in place, she felt cut off from the rest of the world, unable to communicate properly.

  “We’re psychics,” she finished, sounding rather weak, even to herself. “Newly assigned to the 381st.”

  The captain’s eyes widened, and the temptation to open up was just too much for Evelyn. She eased up on the mental pressure holding her barriers closed and allowed just a whisper of emotion through. Curiosity, incredulity, distrust. All of these swirled together in a dizzying rush and poured off of the captain, and Evelyn swayed under this new onslaught.

  “I’m so sorry,” Mary said, her sweet starlet’s voice flat and empty as she rejoined Evelyn and slipped her fingers back into her friend’s hand. With that touch, the blond woman offered her own strength, and Evelyn felt her silent plea to link up. It was a good idea. Together, they might be stronger. She allowed Mary’s connection and felt a raw, ragged type of strength come flowing in. It wasn’t full net link, but it was still connection enough for their emotional energy to bolster one another, and Evelyn felt her dizziness recede.

 
“Psychics? Like witches?” the captain asked, his eyes sharp. “I’m a little old for bedtime tales.”

  “We’re to help the aircrews on their missions,” Mary said, ignoring the insult. She, too, seemed to be feeling better with the addition of Evelyn’s strength to her own. “We can link the crewmen’s minds into a single net, which will allow for better communication and coordination while flying missions.”

  “But you said it was...difficult? Interrogation? Missions are a helluva lot harder than that, begging your pardon.” His skepticism deepened, feeling like wet sand against the skin.

  “We weren’t ready,” Mary replied, echoing Evelyn’s earlier words. “But there are precautions we can take...It’s complicated,” she said, offering up a smile. True to form, the California girl was bouncing back with impressive rapidity. The thought made Evelyn smile her own smile. Her friend was a whole lot of toughness wrapped up in an adorably cute package. Evelyn envied Mary her easy charisma with strangers, and this was a perfect example of why.

  “I’m Mary Lewis,” she said, tucking a strand of her blond hair behind her ear. She offered her hand to the captain. “This is Evelyn Adamsen. And you are?”

  The captain looked down at her outstretched hand with a bemused expression, but he took it briefly in greeting.

  “Captain Carl Peters,” he said. “I take it the two of you haven’t been WACs long?”

  “Oh!” Evelyn exclaimed as the name jarred her memory. “Um, no, sir, we haven’t. But I’m, um, assigned to your crew. We were told we’d be meeting our crews tonight, but they gave us the names, and I got yours. Or so they said.” She trailed off, feeling even more like an ungainly, awkward beanpole next to Mary’s smiling prettiness. But Captain Peters didn’t seem to mind, for he gave her a smile as well.

  “So that’s what the 1800 meeting is all about,” he said. “They told us in Interrogation, but they didn’t say anything else. Well enough...although, I’ll be honest, I have no idea what you think you can do. Witches or not.”

  “Psychics, not witches. Let us show you,” Mary said quickly, looking from Peters to Evelyn and back again. Evelyn felt a kind of mischievous eagerness from the other woman through their link.

  Captain Peters’ eyebrows raised up in amused condescension, but he nodded.

  “All right,” Evelyn said, taking a deep breath. She pushed the echoes of fear and fatigue back, imagined them dispelling through her skin. She gripped Mary’s hand a bit harder as she opened their link wide enough to establish a full telepathic contact. Mary let her do so, keeping her own barriers open and welcoming Evelyn’s thoughts into her own. It would have been much more difficult otherwise. Typically, it was harder to link with a woman, and near-impossible if the woman were trained to resist intrusion. Mary’s instant welcoming spoke of her deep trust in Evelyn, a trust that the brunette woman returned.

  All at once, Evelyn’s vision took on a strange, doubled cast. She focused briefly, and two distinct images resolved in her mind: the image of Mary from her own eyes, and the image of herself through Mary’s.

  You’re so good at this. The thought was Mary’s, but it occurred in Evelyn’s head as if the words had been her own. They accompanied a different flavor of the affectionate envy with which Evelyn had regarded Mary’s social skill. Evelyn could have replied, simply by forming her own words in her head, and Mary would have instantly received them. However, instead she concentrated on how deeply she loved and admired the other woman and felt Mary’s answering affection in return.

  “Sir,” Evelyn said out loud. “For this first time, it will be easier if I touch you. Would you please take my hand? I promise this won’t hurt.” Dimly, through Mary, Evelyn was aware that her own voice took on a quiet surety it normally lacked. She wasn’t confident about much, but Evelyn knew very well that she was one of the best net builders alive.

  Captain Peters reached out and took Evelyn’s offered hand this time. As he did so, Evelyn reached her mind and emotions out to him, gently opening the natural barriers he had no idea existed. She couldn’t have done so if he’d resisted, not without causing him serious harm. But the fact he’d acquiesced and reached out to make physical contact meant that Evelyn was able to slip inside the deliciously foreign landscape of his masculine mind.

  Again, they felt that moment of visual disorientation until Evelyn resolved their vision into three separate images. She felt Carl tense up as he suddenly saw through her eyes and Mary’s.

  No, please relax, she thought. I know it’s strange, but you are safe. The strangeness you are feeling is the echo of our emotions. It’s been an odd day.

  For...all...of...us? The words were halting and half-whispered as Carl stumbled toward communicating within the net. Evelyn sent him a burst of approval and encouragement that Mary echoed.

  I can see me, Carl thought, his words shedding their tentative nature as he adjusted to the net. This is incredible. I can see what we all three see. But it’s...Oh! I just had to think that I wanted separate images, and I had them!

  The human brain is incredibly complex. It’s extremely good at filtering out information we don’t want and focusing on the information we do. And there’s more, Evelyn said, easily falling into “teaching” mode. Before the Army had come looking for girls with psychic talent, she’d been studying to teach high school. With careful precision, she sent a quick thought to Mary, who reached out with her free hand and pinched Evelyn, hard, inside her elbow.

  “Ouch!” Carl said out loud. He dropped Evelyn’s hand and severed the three-way mental connection, taking a step back as he did so. “How did you do that?” he demanded, reaching up to rub the inside of his elbow.

  “When we’re in a net, what one of us feels, we all feel,” Evelyn said softly. She gave him a little smile. “This can be helpful if a member of your crew is in distress and can’t speak.”

  Captain Peters blinked, then nodded slowly in understanding. Then his brows came together.

  “But if we have to be touching to create a net...”

  “It only helps the first time. But now I know your mental landscape. With your permission, I can link with you whenever I want.”

  “Do it now,” Captain Peters said.

  “As you like,” Evelyn said softly, and reached out once again. She blinked and once again felt his vision come to overlay hers, felt the strangeness of his mind and emotions.

  What if...I don’t want you in me? he asked, the edge of fear shading his mind.

  Push me out, Evelyn invited. Simply close yourself off. Perhaps, for you, it’s a withdrawing...

  The tall brunette gasped and stumbled backward, nearly falling down in the mud.

  “Evie!” Mary cried out, reaching out to steady her friend. The little blonde rounded on Captain Peters.

  “Why did you have to go and do that?” she demanded, her eyes fierce. “Evelyn wouldn’t have hurt you! She wouldn’t hurt a fly! You didn’t have to throw her out...”

  “Mary, it’s all right,” Evelyn said, squeezing her friend’s hand in reassurance. “I told him to. Please don’t worry, sir, I’m all right. It’s just that it can hurt, a little, to be forcibly ejected like that. But no lasting harm. It’s akin to a...shove, or being bumped by a passerby.”

  “Oh. Well, I beg your pardon!” Captain Peters said, blinking rapidly. “I certainly wouldn’t have done that if I’d known...”

  “No, you needed to know,” Evelyn said, quietly but firmly. Mary looked as if she were about to protest, but Evelyn squeezed her hand and shook her head.

  “They need to know, Mary. If they’re going to be opening themselves to us, they need to know how to protect their own privacy if needed. And not just from us. You know that as well as I do. I’ll be teaching all of your crew to do the same, sir, just as soon as I have a chance to meet them.”

  Captain Peters looked as if he wanted to ask several more questions, but her words recalled him to himself, and he looked around at the now-deserted yard.

  “Of cour
se,” he said. “They’re likely all at chow or getting cleaned up. They’ll be at the 1800 meeting, though. Or the officers, at least.”

  “We will see you there, sir,” Evelyn said with a smile.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Two

  The two WACs walked in silence back toward the Quonset hut that had been pointed out to them as their billet. Inside, the only two unclaimed bunks were the two nearest the door, but Evelyn didn’t mind too much. She gave Mary the choice of bottom or top, since she had been the one to delay them so much.

  “I still don’t understand why you let him throw you out like that,” Mary groused as she made up her bed. Despite her petite frame, she moved with quick assurance as she lifted the mattress of the top bunk to make passable hospital corners.

  “Yes, you do,” Evelyn said, her tone patient. She smoothed her own army-issued green wool blanket over her bunk and began tucking it under the mattress. The two of them had been having this discussion from nearly the first day of their training.

  “All right, yes. They do need to be able to build barriers, I agree. But that could have waited, at least until you’d had an opportunity to teach them to be gentle. There’s a reason men aren’t psychics, Evie! They’re too apt to go around manhandling everything in sight, and you don’t need to be one of them!”

  “No one knows why only women are born with psychic power,” Evelyn shot back. “And you and I both know women who are a bit rough with their mental touch.” A wry smile curved her lips as she thought of Captain Ledoux. The captain was a powerful psychic, but she lacked finesse in every sense of the word. She’d become their commanding officer simply because she’d been the first to come forward when Mrs. Ruth Durant had gone looking for women with abilities like her own.

  “Don’t change the subject,” Mary said, shaking her head like a ferocious golden poodle. “You gave them the power to hurt you, Evie! Don’t you see how dangerous that is? Didn’t you hear the colonel? These are rough men!”