Fic: Psychic Consultant [GEN]

[jade_dragoness]

It's so hard to write when I'm away from home but the deadline for amnesty in au_bingo is in two days so this is me completing a bingo line.

Title: Pyschic Consultant
Author: J.D. aka jade_dragoness
Summary: Future Scifi/Psychic AU - The year is 3001, Harry Dresden is one those rare kinds of human beings, a psychic. And in a reality where everyone thinks the highest possible rating for psychics is a level 10, and anything higher is impossible, he’s a level 11: Wizard.
Pairing: None; General
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1,435
Disclaimer: Never ever will be mine. *sadness*
A/N: Written for the AU_Bingo Card Slot #13 - Wild Card.
Feedback is hugely welcomed.
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AO3 Link
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“Stars and stones!” I swore in surprise as the Blue Beetle lurched hard enough to nearly give me whiplash. The engine made a high-pitched whining sound which made me wince. I sent out my senses and my pyrokinetic gift registered higher than usual heat signature from the ship’s engine.

“Damn it!” I swore again. I shouted at the speakers embedded in the navigation control. “Bob, the engines!”

“I know, I know!” The A.I. bellowed back. Bob was a damned good artificial intelligence. He could run more systems than the average program and still devote half of his attention to his favorite porn channels, but the Beetle’s tendency to break down could strain even his multi-tasking algorithms. “Give me a minute!” The small spaceship lurched sideways, the anti-gravity flickered of and I began to float away. “Or ten!” Bob added frantically.

I lightly bounced off the ceiling so I floated back down to my seat. As soon as I was within reach of the seatbelt, I grabbed it and clicked myself into the pilot’s seat. I spent the next ten minutes tensed hard enough to nearly snap in half, as I made encouraging noises to my ship. “Come on, Beetle,” I said against the ship’s nav-control. “If we make it back to Neo-Chicago I‘ll buy a shiny new engine part. It won‘t be used, I swear. And I‘ll promise to never take you back to another swamp planet again,” The engine continued to whine. “I’ll throw in fuzzy dice?” The whining noise abruptly stopped, leaving an empty silence which was disturbing on too many levels for me to count until the engine started up again with loud bang which vibrated the entire ship until the engine smoothed out. “Fuzzy dice, it is!” I said in relief, slumping in my seat. “Bob? What happened?”

“What do you think, boss?” Bob asked. On the digital screen embedded in the Blue Beetle’s nav-console, appeared Bob’s favorite user icon, an ivory skull with red-orange snapping flames in the eye sockets. He gave me an irritated look. “It‘s been too long since you’ve taken the ship to Mike‘s shop for a tune-up. And there‘s only so much those cheap outdated auto-repair bots you bought at that salvage yard can do. The Blue Beetle needs more work than I can manage on my own, Harry.”

I grimaced and ran a hand through my dark hair. “Alright. Plot the safest course back to Neo-Chicago which won‘t damage the Beetle.” I sighed heavily, “And bring up the file of my finances.”

Bob brought up a spreadsheet with numbers too low for my liking. I frowned at the screen. This last job had left me with enough credits in my account to cover the repairs and rent for the next month, but if I didn’t pick up a couple extra jobs soon I’ll been eating dried food pills for the foreseeable future.
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“Thanks, Mike,” I called out, as I headed out the bay doors.

Mike absently waved a wrench at me before he returned to being half-buried in the Beetle’s engine until only his bottom half was visible. I walked away, confident that my ship was in safe hands. Mike had always been good to me and he knew how much affection I had for that the little ship.

“Well, we‘re grounded for the week,” I said, keeping my voice low. “So look for jobs which I can get to using public transport. Nothing which will take us off planet or require intercontinental travel.” I reached into the deep pocket of my black coat, and pulled out Bob’s travel module. I’ve never figured out why the previous owner had chosen to pick a skull design for the module but Bob liked it and so I never bothered to change it. “And Bob, as soon as you connect to the planetary net, send a message to Murphy so she knows I‘m back. Maybe she‘ll have work for me.”

“Done and done, boss,” Bob said as the eye sockets in the module lit up with orange lights. “Want me to tell Susan you‘re back too?” he asked slyly.

I blinked at him. “Why would she need to know?”

“Oh, boss, you‘re hopeless,” Bob sighed. I gave him an irritated look before I tucked him back into my pocket.

Fortunately, my apartment was easy to get to with public transport. I’ve got this to say about Neo-Chicago, even with the allegations of corruptions which were regularly leveled against our public officials; the planet had a fairly decent transport web in place although there‘s nothing like the press of too many psyches, strong body odor and the scent of urine to make one appreciate having your own transport. At home, I dropped off my heavy duffel bag with everything I’d packed for the job which had taken me off planet, got back my cat from the neighbor who’d agreed to look after him for a few credits and made sure my landlady knew I was back before I headed back out the door.

I walked to Neo-Chicago Ship Park. It was the nearest piece of greenery near my neighborhood which was partly a memorial honoring the colony ship from old Earth came to this planet. The planet was rife with them. This particular park had a mix of native planets and imported Earth green which some clever landscaper had made rather lovely for such a tiny scrap of land. I stood under the sun and slowly opened up my mental shields to soak up the energy of planet. One drawback of spending time out in space when you were a psychic of my level was that when I landed on a population dense planet, I needed to take time to readjust to all the psychic background energy which high populations of humans generated. So I look the better part of an hour to adjust my shields, filtering out the susurration of humanity. Once I’d adjusted a sense of home seeped in beyond the energy levels of humans and loosed mental muscles. Nothing made me happier than the feel of the familiar energies of Neo-Chicago. Once I felt I was firmly back into balance and in tune with the planet, so I wouldn’t get the wrong results if I had to use psychometry or pathfinding, I made my way to my office.

Several minutes later, and even lighter on cash credits to my name, I walked through he doors of my office. I’d only just dropped into the chair behind my cheap aluminum desk when the inter-planetary vid-com chimed at me. I settled Bob into the uplink cradle on my desk before I answered.

Karrin Murphy, Detective Karrin Murphy of Neo-Chicago’s Planetary Police Department, looked at me with raised eyebrows which made me abruptly aware that I hadn’t shaved in a few days and I was looking rather too much like scruffy pirate compared to my usual look: skinny, overly tall scarecrow. She, on the other hand, looked completely professional with tiny silver studs in her ears, every blonde hair in place and a tough cop expression on her face.

Ruefully, I rubbed at my bristling chin before I grinned at her. “Hey, you just caught me just as I got in to the office, Murphy. What can I do today for Neo-Chicago‘s finest?”

“You don‘t have to butter me up, Dresden,” she said dryly. “I have a job for you. I‘ll got a body and I need to know what your psychic skills can tell me. “And Dresden,” Murphy added grimly. “This is the third body we‘ve found under this M.O.; I don‘t want another.”

I straightened up and nodded. “I‘ll be there.”

“I‘ve sent you the coordinates,” Murphy said. I read the text on the screen and added it to my travel tablet. As I nodded to let her know I had it, Murphy signed off. I grabbed a couple of supplies I needed from the stock I kept at the office, shrugged back into my black canvas coat and was out the door in seconds.

What am I doing looking for a killer? I guess I did forget to introduce myself.

I’m Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden, Neo-Chicago’s only level 11 psychic, rated Wizard. And yeah, those actually exist. Don’t let the so-called official statements that the rating only goes up to 10 fool you; it actually goes up to 13. If you have trouble of the kind that can‘t be solved with mundane means, I’m easy to find, just look me up in the planetary web under P for Psychic Consultant, I’m the only one there.

End