Bester did not, could not understand, or perhaps he simply didn’t want to, because he was a telepath, and Byron, who had once been his protégé, and had shown so much promise, was likewise a telepath. They were family, they had more in common with each other than they would ever have with mundanes, and yet… Byron had fled PsiCorps, had gathered other telepaths around him, blips, rogues, the unregistered…

In Bester’s opinion, all they needed was guidance, a firm hand to bring them back into the fold. They belonged with PsiCorps. Who else could understand and protect them? They were wayward children who just needed to be reminded of who they were. He’d round them up, take them back, re-educate them. They’d strayed from the path, but they could be brought home, and they’d thank him for it later, thank him for caring so deeply about them, for giving them another chance.

The Corps is Mother, the Corps is Father… That was more than merely words, it was the very bedrock of a telepath’s existence, and yet Byron and his people rejected everything the Corps stood for, considered themselves and PsiCorps to be in opposition. That made no sense to Bester.

Telepaths were on one side; the other side was… Well, everyone else, the mundanes, the so-called normals. But Byron didn’t see it that way, and all of Bester’s efforts to make him see sense… failed.

And now Byron and the others were dead. It was such a waste! They’d willingly taken their own lives to avoid being taken back, and because of the deal Byron had made, those left alive, those who hadn’t been part of the violence, were free to leave. Bester couldn’t touch them.

His mind reeled; what had gone wrong? He truly did not understand.


The End