Tag Archives: espionage

Magic crime

Where magic is disbelieved, magic crime is invisible.

The Controller entered his office, hanging his coat on a peg by the door. He noted the file waiting for him on his desk, and sat down and opened it. It was a report of one of the talent spotters identifying possible recruits. He picked out a pen, a green marker and pencil, and began to read.

1. Gypsy. Power to influence minds. Using it to induce people to buy from her.

The Controller placed a green tick by her name. Definitely useful.

2. African. Astral travel. Using it to case premises to determine if worth burgling.

Another green tick.

3. Czech. Necromancer.

The Controller paused. Interesting, but not useful. He pencilled a comment that monitoring should continue in case some useful ability emerged.

4. Able to summon and command Fire Elemental. Using it to curse. Causing fires and deaths all over.

Definitely. Very useful! Green tick and added comment in ink, “Recruit at all costs. Priority”.

5. Sees the future.

Absolutely. Another priority.

That was the list for the day. The Controller closed the file and called for his secretary. “Take this back to Lamb, will you? Good job. And send a coffee up on your way back”.

……………….

Copyright 2015

 

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Tit for tat

There was bustle in the control room as the shifts changed. Jealous eyes looked at the smug gits allocated to the “fun” shift.

“How do we get onto the fun shift?” asked a young dark-haired recruit, donning his leather jacket as a slightly older man slid smoothly into his chair.

“Think you’re man enough to take it?”

The youth looked at the older guy’s smirking face. “Watch original free play sex every night? I think I could manage”.

“Don’t you enjoy the day shift?”

“Watching old Mother Hubbard feed her over-stuffed cat three times in a row because she’s forgotten she’s fed it?”

There were snorts from the exiting staff. A gorgeous blonde with a perfect manicure took her station. “It’s not for fun” she said with a saucy smile. “It’s education as well as monitoring”. She sneaked a side-ways glance at smoothie who suppressed a smile.

“Well, have fun, children” said leather jacket as he exited the door. “And I hope Jasmine is having her period tonight”.

 

The prayerwarrior was getting very cheesed off with the tax and time wasters subjecting her to constant surveillance. She wasn’t psychic but she knew they were there and espionage was the first choice of profession for voyeurs, Peeping Tom’s and every kind of sex pervert. She had never consented to star in a reality show. Not that her celibate life-style gave anything interesting to watch. She blessed the fact she was asexual. Her soldier mind followed its natural path in considering ways she could counter this annoyance, forgetting her power was not intended for personal or trivial use.

 

At shift change the following night the atmosphere was different. Blondie plumped down at her station with a look of rage. Smoothie rested his hand lightly on leather jacket’s back. “I think I can get you onto the night shift. Could you meet me for coffee to discuss it?” Leather jacket looked at him with surprise but nodded. Just then the Controller burst into the room. “Monitor’s off Mother Hubbard now!” Everyone in the room froze in surprise.

“But she’s harmless” muttered leather jacket.

“You have a girlfriend?” the Controller commented. Leather jacket nodded. “How would you like a boyfriend?”

His eyes flicked towards smoothie.

“Well this is an equal opportunity employer”.

The Controller glared at him. “I think you have just given the reason you will never be on the night shift”. The Controller turned to the room. “A general announcement will be made but as I’m here I might as well tell you. Counselling has been made available across the organisation for anyone suffering gender-orientation confusion”.

“What?” Leather jacket shook his head, “I don’t get it”.

The Controller addressed the room again. “For the simple-minded among you, Old Mother Hubbard has turned all the surveillance staff, gay”.

…………………….

Copyright 2015 Prayerwarriorpsychicnot

The Sacrificial Lamb

The group were sitting quietly, expectantly when the Controller entered. He started immediately. “The exercise today is your first real life exercise. Your decisions will be acted on.  But first, the scene. Our agent is located in this block of flats where the vigilante group operates. They have become suspicious. We need a fall guy to take the heat off our operative. Start”.

The group looked at each other, and studied the flats notoriously controlled by the vigilantes and now hosting their spy undercover.

The Controller prompted them. “Magda, remind the group of the formula followed when we infiltrate”.

The cool blonde looked up and confidently addressed the group. “Criminals are paranoid. Hyper-vigilant. They are on the look out for snitches. To make sure they don’t focus on our operatives we make sure they focus their attention elsewhere”.

She glanced at the Controller to see if she should continue. He nodded. “Suggest the profile of a suitable fall guy”.

“The subject cannot be someone of standing in that community, but someone on the fringes, a new arrival, a stranger in some respects. They will have few social contacts to protect them. They must be someone that smeared, people will believe the smears”.

The Controller nodded. “Would a criminal do?”

Magda and several members of the group nodded no, emphatically. “A criminal would absolutely not do. They might be arrested for their crimes. We don’t want the police involved and if they were arrested they would be taken out of the community and  no further use to us. We need someone to remain there until they have served their purpose”.

The Controller nodded at Magda to sit down and called another member of the group.

“Jake, tell us more about the characteristics of a suitable target”. A gypsy-looking, lanky man with straggling dark hair got to his feet.

“Women are easy targets. They lack the family, and community support and acceptance that men enjoy. Men are happy to believe lies of sexual impropriety against women, and other women are quick to believe lies too”.

He paused.

“Does it make any difference if the woman has children?”

Jake smiled. “It is better if the woman has children. They anchor her to the place. A childless woman might suspect trouble and just up and leave”.

“And what about a married woman?”

Jake nodded, no. “No good. The husband has ties with the community. The wife has his protection. It introduces a whole set of extra problems. A single woman with children is ideal”.

The Controller threw a bundle of files onto the table. “These contain the details of every resident in the flats, excluding criminals and married couples. I expect your proposals for a suitable target to be ready by this time tomorrow”.

 

The following day Magda and Jake knocked on the Controller’s door. They carried one file. The Controller scoped the contents. “Single woman, widowed, several children, newcomer to the flats”. He looked up and handed the file back. “Good. Now I want the group to come up with suitably dramatic theatre to draw attention to this woman’s outsider status. It should confirm the lies and rumours that have been spread about her and reinforce community avoidance and hostility”.

Over the next few weeks several dramatic events occurred at the flats. Some even made the newspapers. They all centred on one flat where a newcomer, a single woman with children lived.

Shortly after vigilantes dragged her from her bed and her body was found in a nearby alley.

Under the Controller’s instructions the group met again to round off the operation. He noticed Magda and Jake were sitting together in one corner looking pale and subdued.

“First of all” the Controller started “I  must congratulate you on a successful operation. Now everyone believes the spy has been dealt with our operative is safe”.

He looked round at the group. They all seemed subdued. “What is the matter? It was a successful operation”

“That woman was innocent” Jake muttered. “Was that really necessary?”

“We didn’t kill her. The vigilantes did”.

The Controller turned to Magda. “Well?”

“The children are now orphans. First their father dies. Then their mother. And no-one is helping them because they are afraid of the vigilantes”.

The Controller sighed. “Your sentiments do you credit. But you are missing the point. Our agent is safe. The vigilantes have saved face – they have rooted out the spy in their midst, everyone is happy”.

As the penny dropped, Jake and Magda stared at each other in horror.

Have to watch those two, thought the Controller. Pity. They had potential.

……………………..

Copyright 2015 Prayerwarriorpsychicnot

Kill the yeast!

The Controller faced the select group of agents, chosen for their expertise in sabotage, lies, seduction and absolutely every crime imaginable – but selected above all for their attitude. They enjoyed their work. Bullies and perverts to the bone their joy was the destruction of other peoples lives.

“This lesson, our strategy, is very simple, but don’t underestimate it. It is the foundation of everything we do.”

The agents nodded polite attention.

The controller typed on a pad and the letters illuminated the wall. “Kill the yeast”.

The Controller looked at the class and inwardly smiled. Most were doing their best to retain a neutral face, a dead giveaway that they hadn’t a clue. One or two, whom he noticed, looked interested.

“Speak” he encouraged. “The silence is deafening”.

One of those who evinced curiosity raised his hand. “I take it we are not discussing bread making, Sir”.

A titter of relief rippled through the group.

“So what are we talking about?”

Some of the faces had gone from neutral to thoughtful. One of those raised his hand. “It sounds like a Biblical parable, Sir”.

“Go on”.

“The yeast are those people spread evenly throughout society who given a chance to rise, will rise, raising others with them, like yeast raises dough”.

Now all the faces had gone from neutral to thoughtful, and some looked eager. One of those waved his hand.

“So our job is to identify the yeast and one way or another destroy them”.

“Correct” said the Controller. “Now can anyone suggest why?”

A sea of hands met his question. He gestured to the nearest.

“To maintain the social order”

“Why?”

“To maintain the status quo”.

The class was now fully engaged and enjoying themselves.

“Our employers do not wish anyone to rise because they also raise their group alongwith them”.

The Controller paused, thinking. In another group someone would have asked – why not let anyone, even everyone rise? Society as a whole would benefit. But not in this group. They were the elect.

The Controller turned from the class to view the huge letters on the wall – KILL THE YEAST.

“Our employers have no intention that society as a whole should raise itself and then start questioning their policies. Their interests are best served by keeping the largest differential in power, wealth and status between themselves and all the rest. A place for everyone and everyone in their place”.

The Controller smiled and the class smiled back. He did not need to tell them which side their bread was buttered.

“Class dismissed”.

………………..

Copyright 2015 Prayerwarriorpsychicnot

 

If you haven’t read “Chaining the Lady” Piers Anthony, you are missing a treat

 

Book Two of the Cluster Series, “Chaining the Lady” came out in 1978.

If there is a funnier or more thought-provoking Science Fiction novel I haven’t read it.

The story revolves round the concept of Kirlian aura. Space travel is too expensive and takes too long, transporting physical matter huge distances. Instead beings transmit their “aura” into a host, and space travel is accomplished through a form of spiritual possession.

The Andromedan galaxy has exhausted their energy and seeks to invade the Milky Way galaxy to steal ours. By accident a young human officer discovers that a high ranking alien has been made an involuntary host. Just in time the Milky Way is alerted to the existence of invading high Kirlian auras from Andromeda – but they don’t know who they are.

Melody of Mintaka from the music sphere, the highest aura available to the Milky Way is conscripted and projected into the body of her voluntary host, Yael of Dragon, a gorgeous young woman, quite street savvy but not very bright. Melody is extremely intelligent but she is not an organic form – her body’s natural form resembles a percussion band. Not only is she elderly, a reclusive Tarot philosopher, but she is something unusual even in Mintakans. The Mintakans change gender when they mate. Due to a mis-mating at her first attempt, Melody is rendered neuter.

Piers Anthony with his customary sexual humour creates a great burlesque out of the personality combination of a voluptuous healthy young human and the elderly Mintakan neuter. The internal character play and the tactics the joined personality elect to use is milked for maximum humour. This alone makes the book worth reading. I challenge anyone to finish it without aching sides.

But the core idea, of the military application of a fifth column by mind possession is truly unsettling.

 

THE GOLDEN SLAVE and DEATH TRAP

The King sipped from a golden goblet encrusted with rubies.

“Enter”.

The Chief of Spies entered the audience chamber, bowing low.

“Report”.

“The people are murmuring. We have increased the border fortifications and the guards, but daily more people seek to leave. Stories of the Other Kingdom are spreading like wildfire”.

The Spy hesitated.

“What stories?”

“That in the Other Kingdom no-one is a slave. Everyone is allowed to own their own wealth. Everyone is happy”.

The King snorted casting a swift glance at the Spy who shrugged slightly. Then he glowered into his wine and had another sip. He put the cup down.

“Then the Other Kingdom needs to become less free, impoverished and unhappy”.

“The mystic with the magical prayers?”

“She would never harm another. We offered her a mansion, gold and servants. She refused.”

She has relatives?”

“All dead. There is no-one close to her”.

“Her independence insults our authority. Find a way to use her. “Dismissed”.

The King left the audience chamber, crossed the ballroom, ascended to his private chambers and to the locked room beyond. He sat upon a comfortable chair and surveyed his wealth with satisfaction. A golden cloak draped on a mannequin. Chests of gold and silver. Delicately carved boxes of jewellery. Priceless ornaments. The wealth of his people extracted by taxes, and charges, fines, and secret thefts and extortion. Amazing what family heirlooms people would willingly part with when their children were threatened. Then he thought of the wealth of the neighbouring Kingdom and his thoughts turned sour. There people were free to amass their own wealth. His people were envious and critical of his government. He had all the wealth of his own people. He wanted the wealth of the neighbouring people and to reduce their King to penury and shame. Stupid way to run a kingdom, for the benefit of the people!

How could he turn the neighbour’s worth, to worthlessness?

………………..

The King sat in his audience room listening to the Spy’s suggestions. Finally he waved a hand for silence and suggested his own idea. The Spy’s eyes narrowed and he nodded with appreciation.

That night, the mystic with the magical prayers was knocked unconscious on the street and carried to the King’s treasure room. Still unconscious, the cloak of cold was draped around her and skilled beauticians painted all her visible flesh with gold leaf. Finally a wig of spun gold was placed on her head. Then she was placed, still unconscious, on a golden chair in the middle of the treasury, surrounded by chests of gold and silver and jewels.

The Spy ushered in three witches who took their positions in front of the mystic and started to chant softly. The King looked on fascinated, but the Spy suggested the witches worked better on their own. Only the Golden Slave should be seen.

………….

In the neighbouring Kingdom the King slept. Since the old King’s death, the young man had lived with constant worry about the fate of his Kingdom. His Kingdom was the creation of the wisdom of his forefathers, but the custodianship weighed heavy. He feared he would fail his people and their trust.

He dreamed. He saw a golden woman surrounded by wealth. A voice behind him, a voice of an Angel said, “She will destroy your people and kill you. But if you kill her, all this wealth will be yours”. And he awoke, his heart racing, his temples throbbing, with visions of his people dying and his Kingdom falling in ruin around him. Fear flamed into anger . Now he had seen who would bring the downfall of his people, he could plan a way to save them and himself.

…….

The witches completed their work and informed the Spy. He then called the Head Torturer and gave his instructions. Then he reported to the King.

“The mystic will be reduced to idiocy. She will be kept drugged until it is needed for her to regain consciousness”.

The King nodded, sipping his wine.

………….

The procession passed through the Customs gate, the golden woman sitting in a jewelled carriage, drawn by gold-liveried horses. A few soldiers accompanied her for show.

When they reached the hills that separated both Kingdoms, a witch induced the woman to drink a potion to revive her, then rode back to the city.

An hour later the carriage was intercepted by the neighbouring King and his men. They fell upon the carriage and its retainers like bandits, killing the guards and bound the woman hand and foot and dragged her to their young King. She struggled in terror.

The King raged at her.

“So, you would attack me and my Kingdom? He raged. “I will have you burnt over a slow fire and recover the gold you are made of!”

The woman shrieked in fear, her idiot eyes wild. She started to mutter.

“What’s that, what’s that you’re saying?”

The men holding her blanched and spoke up.

“She is cursing you, and your Kingdom. We will all die”.

The King paled, an icy hand squeezing his heart.

“she is a witch?”

Overhead the storm clouds gathered. Lightning flashed between the clouds. The earth trembled underfoot. Birds rose from the land, with cries into the air.

The men looked in mounting terror down at the valley where their Kingdom lay. A bolt of lightning split the tallest tower on the King’s palace. Burning debris started fires wherever it fell.

“kill her,” the King yelled. But it was too late. As her blood fell on the ground the earth split beneath their city and half the city sank into  the yawning earth.

“what have I done?” The King thought in despair. People below ran like ants falling into the pits that suddenly yawned at their feet.  As the King stared aghast, cold terror seizing his heart, he did not see nor hear the lightning that split the heavens and turned his robes aflame.

………..

As the carnage below spread, the Spy received his orders from the King. Soon several battalions left the city for the neighbouring lands, taking with them many wagons, to collect any wealth they could find and take any survivors as slaves.

The King smiled.

“When the people see how the new slaves are treated, they will be content.”

Then he thought of the mystic.

“Good people are as useful as evil ones. It is all a matter of how you use them”.

Copyright Prayerwarriorpsychicnot 2014

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DEATH TRAP

The King met with the heads of the various authorities in his private room. Behind him an elaborate screen decorated with the great myths of a proud people. Heroes who self-sacrificed in battle; saints who suffered for the true religion; mothers with babies at their breasts radiating love and gentleness. Behind the screen in dark and silence, sat the  Head of spies.

The first to enter the room was the Head of Police. He bowed then stood silent waiting for permission to speak.

The Despot barely glanced at him, seeming preoccupied with papers on his desk.

“Report”.

“Crime has increased in the last half year. We have altered the accounting method to show a decrease in the serious crimes. We have the resources, but since the new procedures have been implemented, the men spend more time with the procedures than catching criminals”.

He stopped.

“Is that all?” The Despot looked up for the first time and fixed his man with an unwavering gaze. “The truth now”.

The chief shifted slightly, “Well, we have been getting a lot of complaints. Nothing we can’t handle.” He added hastily.

“And you have listed the complainants?”

“Yes. We are following the new procedures, as given”.

The Despot put down his papers and smiled. “Good” he said. “Keep up the good work”. And he gave a wave of dismissal. The Chief of Police bowed again, and backed from the room.

On his own with the Chief of Spies the Despot spoke again. “You have received the List of complainers from the Police?”

“We have”.

“And what action has been taken?”

“We are gathering intelligence on the individuals and designing protocols according to their different characters. Low level complainers, mainly women, we are spreading the lies that they are prostitutes and child kidnappers. We are arranging conflict situations for the men. If they fail to defend themselves they will be physically disabled or die. If they succeed in defending themselves, we will recruit them to the military”.

“Good. Who is next?”

“Chief of Magic. I think he has something special to report”.

When the Black Magician entered the room the Despot cringed inwardly, though nothing showed on his face. The man was generally feared, with reason. He was the wealthiest man in the Kingdom, after the King. And worth all the silver the King lavished on him.

“I believe you have something special to tell me” the King opened.

The Wizard gave a cursory bow and came straight to the point. “The woman, the complainer. We placed a group of witches in her tenement and gave them permission to do their worst”. The man paused.

“And?” The King prompted.

“She countered their attacks with ease”.

Only the King heard the intake of breath from the Spy behind the screen.

For several moments there was silence in the room.

“Explanation?”

“I have none. She is not a witch, but somehow she can counter magic”.

To the King’s satisfaction the Wizard looked embarrassed. The strongest Black Magician in the country, possibly the world and he was back footed by a servant woman with no magical ability. The King felt laughter welling but retained a cold expression.

“You are dismissed. But stay in the ante room”.

Alone with the Spy, the Spy emerged from behind the screen. The King and Spy looked at each other in mutual bafflement.

“Opinion” the King demanded.

The Spy spread his hands. “To our knowledge she is completely ordinary. No special attributes. Does her work. Cares for her sick husband. Is a member of the Charity Temple. That makes her religious I suppose”.

“Yet she countered witchcraft? Take a look at that Temple. There might be something we have overlooked. Shall we let the Wizard unleash his worst on her?”

The Spy nodded assent.

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A week later the Spy returned to give his report.

“The Temple. We were really surprised. It seems their prayers are more than formula. Many people go to the Temple to pray for sick relatives. It is starting to look as if their prayers actually ameliorate serious conditions”.

The King paused. “This will require careful handling. You have identified all members of this group?”

The Spy nodded. “And their families. Our archivist is working on family trees now. We will identify all the relatives”.

“I want this Temple to be brought into the fold, so to speak”. The King smashed his fist onto the table. “I cannot believe the temerity of these peasants. Under our noses they are giving themselves special advantages without offering their services to us first”.

The King glowered.

” You want them punished?”

“Yes. But not immediately. I want them brought under control first. And stop them praying for the useless eaters. Their resources belong to us. What of the woman?”

“The Wizard arranged for  a full attack. Every magical person at our disposal was involved. They invaded her mind with instructions to discover all her knowledge, uncover her secret”.

“And?”

“They found nothing. No innate ability. But she seems to be a channel to some mystical boundless power. All she has to do is ask.”

“A priestess? That is ludicrous. Only aristocratic women become priestesses. She is an upstart from the gutter. She is an insult”.

The Spy waited.

“There is more?”

The Spy nodded. “She nearly killed them all. The point of invading her so completely was to ensure she would try to defend herself, so we could determine her capability. It seems she “prayed” that those who entered her could not leave. It was a near thing that we managed to recover them all”.

“You have recruited her?” The King demanded.

“No. She thought she had failed as we escaped. In the last week a magical talent that we had not identified invaded her mind. She was unaware of his presence and he died. It seems people who pray do not know the results of their prayers, whether they are effective or not”.

“So now she is a death trap. Magicians unknown to us who go to her will die. We alone have the prayer people now and the magic people to show what is happening. Leave her alone. She is much more useful to us as she is, taking out the competition for us”.

“She is worthless now anyway” the Spy remarked.

“Why is that?”

“Fearing conscription she abandoned her gift. Even if she knew about the situation of trapping people, she couldn’t change the situation even if she wanted too.”

“What a shame, to lose a potential like that”.

The Spy shrugged. “But she takes our enemies out for us, without knowing it. And nobody else can use her. So it is not a complete loss”.

“And we have the Temple” the King mused.

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Copyright 2014 Prayerwarriorpsychicnot