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Ford attempted to keep his focus, but above all else, he knew it was getting late. The old grill wouldn’t scrape itself, sure, but in the end, did that really matter? He sighed as he set down the grill brush and wiped the sweat from his brow. It would have to do for now. The others could wait however long it took for him to get the place back into working order after the destruction and the mistakes that had taken place there.
He knew better than anyone that it wasn’t exactly safe yet. Not that he minded it much. It was better than it had been, and there were enough happy memories to balance out the bad ones, so it felt almost like home with enough elbow grease and Compton and Cassie chipping in when they could (Though Bob and Helmut had been more focused on fixing their relationship and themselves before tackling the van, they had eventually gotten around to mostly taking care of that as well, while Otto had his work and Lucy had her grandkids to watch over. He didn’t blame them for being busy, of course.)
As he put his things away (“In the right spots, Ford, if I can’t find it then I’m going to drag you over there and ask you to find it for me” Cassie had reminded him a million times) he could hear a noise nearby, distracting him from his hand-washing and tool-washing. The old grill brush could wait a few more minutes before he rinsed it off. He turned off the water, not bothering to stop and check if it was leaking before he left, looking out the door of the Heptadome.
It was empty in the Gulch. A bit too empty, but that was to be expected. The bees drove most people off, and Bob’s greenhouse kept watch like a lighthouse over the space from its perch atop a tree he and Bob had grown together with enough work. It was home for Bob and Helmut, but now the lights were out, and the van was missing, so Ford knew better than to try to look for those two. Compton and Cassie much preferred the peace of Cassie’s library, hiding among the books and the blankets and the bees for what felt like hours. They rarely left the library at night, especially since Ford had told Compton about the psi-cougars of Camp Whispering Rock. Not that he blamed them for that, he had dealt with enough burnt hairs to really react much to the big cats. The only ones who would dare wander the gulch at night were him, Otto, and Lucy. The three most commonly referred to as the danger trio, the ones who could look danger in the face and laugh instead.
He didn’t blame the other four for their nicknames or taunts. If anything, they made him smile. It reminded him that they were looking out for the more adventurous ones.
He was still distracted by those thoughts when the noise struck again. Rustling in the bushes. He turned, preparing a psi-blast, but instead, something rolled on the ground by his feet.
Ford stopped in his tracks, looking down just in time to recognize what it was. Ah, f-- he managed to think.
Then, the confusion grenade went off.
Everything was ablur, leaving him addled as he tried to find the right thing to do. Was he in the right place-- The canoes? Were they flipped-- No, no, that was the… Leaves, was it? Were the leaves supposed to be cleaned or cut or sent somewhere? And the…
He couldn’t focus. Every step felt like it was in the wrong direction, and finally, he felt someone else grab him, pulling him along and out of the Gulch. His senses were so mixed up, his thoughts were melded into a long train of curiosity and lost figments of the person he had been and the roles he had taken on to feel useful again. As soon as he was shoved into a car trunk, he almost knew where he was.
And then it was too dark to even try.
All was dark. All was silent. He couldn’t really remember what was happening-- Who was there, why it was happening. He didn’t have the air to yell or the comfort to stretch out, and every attempt to move or to reach a way out was stopped by the car’s heavy rocking and shaking with every pothole, divet, and speedbump it hit like a freight train. It rattled and clanked along, and every time he managed to find a comfortable spot, another clang would ring out, and his head would be shoved against the trunk’s hood again, giving him another headache that wasn’t expected to pass until he was dead. He hated every second, but eventually the repeated head trauma was enough to knock him out.
...
Ford awoke tied to a chair, a dim light shining above him. A girl walked around, looking at him, and she grinned.
“Oh, it’s so lovely to see you’re awake, Agent Cruller! I’ve been waiting for you to get up!”
“What,” he deadpanned, narrowing his eyes at her. “Who are you.”
“Me? Oh, lil ol’ me? No worries, Agent Cruller, I’m just a little songbird on my own.” She grinned brightly. “Sure is a shame, but well, I’ve got a couple friends around, and who knows, maybe your friends can show up too? Then we’ll have a real party!” She giggled, and she leaned in, looking him in the eyes. “Wouldn’t that be grand?”
“...I don’t even know who you are,” Ford muttered. “What’s going on here?”
“Easy! I’m doing a couple itty bitty tests. Don’t you worry one bit, it won’t hurt. Physically. Now, mentally… Tch, I dunno. That’s the part I’m still working on.” She reached up and pulled down a device, aiming it at Ford. “We’ll drop you off as soon as this test is done, no worries. You won’t remember a thing except this part.” She flicked a switch. “It just takes a moment to power on, but as soon as it’s ready--”
The phone rang, and Otto ran his hand along his nightstand, finally finding it among the abandoned cups and old discarded pencils and papers. He grabbed his glasses with it, and tried to put the phone on before fixing his positioning on the phone. “Otto Mentallis talking, what’s the emergency?”
“Thank god you picked up,” Bob’s surly voice answered. “Ford was in the gulch right?”
“What? You think I keep track of where he is?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“...Yeah, he was supposed to go there and then head over to Lucy’s place. She’s not shut up about this date all week. Why?”
“He never showed up.”
“Cold feet?”
“This is Ford. Since when would he shy away from a date with Lucy?”
“I don’t know, Bob, I don’t keep up on people’s love lives. I just get told a lot about stuff I don’t want to hear about. Why does this matter…”
“Well, we just got back to the Heptadome, and Helmut’s already found remnants of a confusion grenade, and the plants tell us that Ford got abducted.”
“Are you sure it wasn’t just someone they didn’t recognize again? I remember whenever something new happened, they’d always claim it was a crime.”
“Otto. I’m being serious.”
Otto groaned, and he got up. “You’re lucky I still have Lucy’s new phone on speed-dial. You go get Cassie and Compton, and we’ll go find ol’ Burgerman.”
“Thanks. Talk to you soon.”
Bob hung up before Otto could, without even a single joke or insult in the path of his goal. That wasn’t like Bob. Not at all.
This really is serious. He didn’t even start talking about his date.
Otto and Lucy arrived last, still dressed in completely different styles from the others. Where Bob and Helmut were still in their “date night outfits” (A green collared shirt and overalls; Helmut’s favorite coat and a pair of black pants) and Lucy was dressed up (Or, rather, had just decided to wear her best coat, which was made of the fewest patches, and a shawl she had gotten from Cassie as a ‘welcome home’ gift), the others weren’t anywhere near that. Otto was in his pajamas and coat, Cassie wore a simple peach sweater and khakis, and Compton sported a turtleneck that was almost as long as he was tall, leaving him with no way to gesture without fabric flapping around.
“...Well, we certainly are gonna make a scene,” Otto quipped. Cassie sighed, but there was a clear smile on her lips.
“And we’re going to find Ford. Right?”
“Yeah. I’ve got his brain signature down pat. Even made a GPS to find where people are if we need it, and since we know him better than anyone…” Otto pulled a machine from his coat pocket, tossing it to Bob. “I call shotgun.”
Helmut raised his eyebrows. “...Then it’s either Cassie or Compton driving.”
Otto groaned. “Ugh. Fine. No offense, you two.”
“None taken. I don’t like driving,” Cassie admitted. Compton nodded, and he climbed into the backseat, followed by Cassie. Bob took his spot in the driver’s seat, and Helmut his in the passenger’s side. That left Otto and Lucy in the middle, where they awkwardly looked out the windows.
“Alright. Everyone buckled in?” Bob checked, looking back. Helmut laughed, and patted his arm.
“They’re not kids, Bobby. It’s okay.”
Bob nodded, and he started up the van. “Alright. Okay. Let’s do this.” He took a breath, and pulled the van out of brake. “...Hold on tight. I’m going to break a couple laws, and we’re not telling Ford about that.”
“We’re not allowed to tell Ford you actually did something cool?” Otto complained.
“Oh, shut it, pajama boy.” Bob adjusted his glasses, then floored the gas, sending the van rocketing forward. Everyone held on tight, including him, as the van made its way out of the gulch. It wasn’t the jet, certainly, but it was the Feel Mobile, and it was as close as they were going to get without having to wake up Truman and end up causing a massive event to talk about it all, where the mission would need authorization and delegation. Instead, they were taking off without a second thought.
That was the way of the Psychic 7: The likely incorrect way, but still, a good time. And, of course, there was music blasting in the background, music that was last “in” about twenty years ago.
None of them said a word about it. They knew better.
“Are we almost there already? It feels like we’ve been on the road for hours. I’m going to take a nap if I’m stuck in this thing much longer…”
“Good news, we’re almost there. Bad news, I don’t have a comb for your hair, so unfortunately you’re stuck going in like that.”
“Hardy har har.” Otto rolled his eyes. “Very funny.”
“Just trying to lighten the mood a bit. What else am I supposed to do here?”
“Not wreck the car, Bob?” Lucy quipped. Even Helmut and Bob had to stifle a laugh at that.
“Alright, okay, listen. I’ve not wrecked a car since… Uh, when was it, the 50s? Might’ve been one time back then…”
“Hey, Cassie? Do you have an extra book, or did you and Compton just pack a couple for the trip?”
“Of course I’ve got an extra.”
“Why did I even ask. Of course you do. Can I borrow it?”
“I don’t know, can you?” She handed it over, smiling slightly as Otto took it, looking the cover over. “...Judging a book by its cover, are we?”
“Of course. I’m a busy man.”
“And very professional at that. Are those little spaceships?”
“I-- Well. No. They’re UFOs. It was a gift from Sasha, alright--”
There was a bit of laughter again, but Compton gave him a small smile, patting him on the leg, the only place he could really reach from his spot. “I think they look nice.”
“Thank you. At least someone here has taste.” Otto opened the book just in time for them to veer off the road, slamming him against the van door.
“Sorry, sorry, nearly missed the turn.”
“You really need to watch the road better, Cactus.”
“Shut up, Mullet.”
They parked outside, and Bob took another deep breath before turning the van off. “Alright. Okay. We’re here. We’re okay.”
“Next time, literally anyone else drive,” Lucy suggested. “I am begging you. Anyone other than Bob.”
“Rude.”
“No offense meant, but that was horrible.”
“I’ll pretend to not take any, then,” Bob muttered as the group got out of the van. They were at a nondescript grey warehouse, labeled for a bookseller, but there were almost no distinguishing marks outside of the logo and company name.
“...Cassie, that’s not the folks who published Mindswarm, is it?” Compton quietly asked. She shook her head.
“Nope.”
“Fantastic. Then it won’t matter if we make much of a mess. Let’s go get Crully.” Lucy took Cassie’s arm, guiding her along as the others trailed behind, making sure that they didn’t get lost along the way. Helmut and Bob took up the rear, keeping their eyes on everyone else as they held hands like the world was going to end if they let go. Bob held Otto’s device in one hand, keeping track of the location.
“This is it. Alright. Let’s get inside.”
“On it.” Otto speedwalked to the door first, and he knelt by the keypad, squinting slightly. “...Really, when was the last time they changed this passcode. No one should ever have that as their passcode.” He pushed his glasses up his nose, and put in the numbers one at a time. “If any of you have 0000 as your passcode on anything, change it.” He opened the door, and let the others in first. “Don’t even need technology to know how bad of a code that one was…” They let the door shut behind them, and they searched the area for any noticeable cameras or other security. There were a few guards, but they seemed tired, like they weren’t entirely there.
“Hm…” Helmut looked at the group, then the sidelines, then raised a hand. “Can I?”
“Of course. Hit it.”
As if on cue, Helmut used telekinesis to push over a shelf of books, creating a domino-style effect between the dozens of racks and shelving units. He grinned at the chaos he was causing, and they slipped past as the guards tried to find the source, starting at the shelves and fanning out from there. They had plenty to get done. After all, Ford needed them.
Ford found himself in a puddle of water, lying on his back. He wasn’t entirely sure where he was or what was going on, but he could tell something important about his situation.
He was alone.
He stumbled to his feet, wiping himself off, and he glanced around, looking for anything, anyone. Instead, it was all blank. Nothingness. Emptiness.
Only a bit of water and the silence.
Nothing to do. No jobs to take on. No one to talk to. Nothing that needed help, nothing that could be fixed or even broken to begin with. Everything was gone.
Just him and the water.
If he were anyone else, he would’ve panicked. But he wasn’t. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to focus, and he summoned a psi-blast stronger than he had done in a while. Building up all his anger, all his frustration, all his fear, and all his emotions.
And he fired it off.
Just like that, the world around him shattered into dust, leaving him where he expected to be.
A room. Dull and gray. A dim light shone above him, and a device was pointed at him, waiting for a reaction. He was supposed to be tied to a chair, but his psi-blast had even burst the chains around his wrists. He stood, crossing his arms behind his back, and looked around.
The kidnapper had left a few mooks there.
Nothing he couldn’t handle on his own.
“So, folks. Are we doing this the easy way or the hard way?”
They turned to face him, and Ford sighed. “Alright. Don’t say I never offered a choice, then.”
The ensuing noise was deafeningly loud, but the group knew it was the way to go. They hurried closer, and threw open the door. There stood Ford, calmly checking his wrists for any marks. “You lot took your time.”
“Good to see you too, Ford. You’re very welcome.” Otto still smiled, even though his tone was dull.
“Yeah, yeah, let’s skip that bit. Where are we.”
“We’re in a warehouse. You got abducted, the plants told me and Helmut, so we gathered the others and came to go find you. That’s where you come in. So exactly what happened here?”
“...I’m not sure.” Ford didn’t meet their eyes. “Not important.”
“Alright, okay. We’ll figure it out later.” Bob sighed, and he shook his head. “Anyways. We’ve gotta get out of here. It’s like… Two in the morning. I don’t think anyone’ll be happy if we all just went missing in the same night without leaving any notes.”
“You went off on a mission and didn’t tell anyone?”
“Well, duh.” Bob shrugged as he started walking. “Truman wouldn’t have let us do this if he knew that we were on a mission.”
“Do what,” Ford started, just in time to see a massive vine grab the remaining security guards, tossing them into the ones that Ford had taken care of on his own. “...Why am I still surprised.”
“Because it’s been 20 years. You had a break in the stupid.” Bob dusted his hands off. “I’ll not ask what you did to those guys.”
“Just a bit of confusion,” Ford lied. Cassie looked closer at the people, and then at Ford, her eyebrows furrowed.
“This is definitely not confusion.”
“...It was definitely confusion,” Ford repeated, nodding as he walked towards the door. “Let’s go.”
“Sometimes, I wonder why we let that guy out of our sight,” Helmut sighed. “One of these days we’re gonna have to handcuff him to someone to keep him from doing something like that.”
Bob shrugged, and took his hand. “Yeah, but that wouldn’t stop him. Especially if it was Lucy or Otto.”
“I’d argue, but you’re right for once, so take the win on that.” Otto patted Bob’s bald head before leaving. Eventually, they all filed out, returning to the van.
“...Tell me that the music isn’t romantic 60s music,” Ford muttered to Lucy. She just shook her head and patted him on the back.
“You love it.”
“No, no, I really don’t.”
Even so, he hopped into the driver’s seat, and Otto took his spot in shotgun. This time, no one argued about the seating arrangement.
One thought echoed in the van from an unknown source: Mission complete. Now we have to decide whether or not to tell Truman that there even was a mission.