Chapter 890

"Coulson is the Clairvoyant."

That was the conclusion Claire had reached after everything that had happened during her investigation.

Four days earlier, Phil Coulson had gathered a meeting of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s few remaining Level Eight agents aboard his aircraft, the Bus. Among them were Agent Hand, who had overseen Coulson’s rescue after his previous abduction; his old friend John Garrett; Agent Blake; and Jasper Sitwell.

The purpose of the meeting was simple.

Find the Clairvoyant.

Holding a gathering of this many senior agents was unusual. Then again, doing unusual things had practically become Coulson’s specialty lately.

The agents had some time before the meeting officially began. Coulson had insisted on waiting until the Bus reached an altitude of five thousand feet before discussing anything sensitive.

Sitwell sniffed the air and frowned.

"Garrett, what is that smell?"

Garrett looked offended. "What smell?"

"That earthy stink coming off you."

"I showered."

Garrett grabbed the collar of his leather jacket and gave it a sniff.

"Oh." He shrugged. "I’ve been spending a lot of time around bunkers and underground tunnels lately. Nearly got buried alive in a safe house once. Guess some of it stuck."

"I see."

Sitwell gave him a thoughtful look.

"I recommend dry-cleaning the jacket, too."

What Sitwell didn’t mention was that his presence on the Bus had another purpose.

Alexander Pierce had specifically sent him to make one final assessment of Garrett’s loyalty.

Go there and observe, Pierce had instructed him. You don’t need to participate in the operation. I’ll have you transferred before anything serious begins.

Don’t deliberately probe him. Don’t say anything suspicious. Just report what you see.

It sounded straightforward enough.

Then Pierce had added one strange question.

"I heard something," he had said. "Just a rumor. Apparently John Garrett once buried himself underground for three days. Do you know anything about that?"

Sitwell had frozen.

"Sir... I’ve heard something along those lines. I assumed it was a joke."

"Don’t worry about it."

Pierce had already spent several days trying to understand the story himself.

At first, he’d assumed being buried alive was the name of some operation.

Then he’d discovered that Garrett had quite literally buried himself underground.

Even Pierce couldn’t figure out why.

So he couldn’t exactly blame Sitwell for being equally confused.

"Just keep an eye on him," Pierce had said. "And don’t make it obvious."

Now, after casually bringing up the subject and watching Garrett’s reaction, Sitwell had his answer.

It was true.

Garrett really had buried himself underground.

Why?

That was another question entirely.

"Cruising altitude reached. We’re ninety degrees off the North Pole."

Melinda May walked over to join the other agents.

The meeting began.

Garrett spoke first.

"Sorry for all the security precautions. Coulson wanted to be careful."

"Why?"

It was a fairly pointless question. A gathering of this many senior S.H.I.E.L.D. agents was classified by definition.

But Sitwell had asked it anyway.

"Because of the Clairvoyant," Coulson said. "If someone really can read minds, at least we’re a little harder to reach up here."

Garrett added, "Coulson figures the Northern Lights might knock his psychic Wi-Fi down a few bars."

Hand stared at him.

Blake wasn’t impressed either.

"Coulson, you know S.H.I.E.L.D.’s official position on mind reading. People can’t do it. You suddenly believe they can?"

"Not suddenly."

Coulson gave them his trademark friendly smile.

"A while ago, a friend told me about a woman who could alter men’s minds simply with her voice."

Nobody laughed.

Coulson continued.

"I never witnessed that part personally. But I did watch a group of perfectly healthy men turn into half-rotten corpses in less than two hours and then pick up rifles and attack us."

He spread his hands.

"After something like that, I’ve stopped assuming anything is impossible."

"Lorelei," Blake murmured.

"The Lorelei incident wasn’t exactly quiet."

It had led to the Lorelei First Amendment, establishing specific legal provisions for crimes involving supernatural abilities and magic.

It had also created some friction between S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Black Badge Division after Lorelei herself was taken into their custody alongside the U.S. government.

And, somewhat embarrassingly for S.H.I.E.L.D., she’d been taken right in front of Coulson.

"Exactly," Coulson said. "Which is why I believe the Clairvoyant may be a superhuman or someone with magical abilities. That’s why I invited our consultant."

"Evenson Richter."

Hand’s expression remained completely flat.

"I knew it. Your team has worked with that consultant more times than I can count. Honestly, Coulson, sometimes I wonder if the director hired him specifically for your team."

"Please don’t say that."

Coulson looked genuinely wounded.

"We have to pay him somehow. The food and alcohol budget on this plane has been under rationing ever since he started showing up."

Garrett glanced toward the door.

"He still hasn’t arrived."

His tone carried a little too much concern.

"He isn’t coming, is he?"

He sincerely hoped Evenson wouldn’t.

Ever since the Lorelei incident, Garrett had developed an unhealthy fascination with Evenson’s explanation about the land beneath the bar.

According to Evenson, the place was supposedly a magical corpse-reviving site.

Garrett had taken that claim seriously enough to lead his trusted men there, stick a breathing tube into his mouth, and bury himself underground for three days.

Nothing happened.

Not even a little.

Garrett had eventually convinced himself that Evenson’s intervention had somehow severed the area’s magical energy flow.

It was the only explanation that let him sleep at night.

So, naturally, the last thing he wanted was Evenson showing up and discovering another supposedly brilliant magical experiment for him to try.

"He should have arrived by now," Coulson said.

He checked his watch, then looked at May.

"You’re sure you reached him?"

"Positive."

May rolled her eyes.

"His phone was disconnected, so I paid the bill myself. I also set up voicemail for him. He’ll get the message."

Coulson’s shoulders sagged.

"Somehow, that makes me feel less confident."

A shower of golden sparks suddenly erupted in the middle of the conference room.

A glowing portal opened.

Claire Ludwig stepped through.

"Sorry. Evenson has something else to deal with, so I’m filling in for him."

She glanced around at the drawn weapons.

"And could you all put the guns away?"

Coulson and May barely reacted.

Hand and Blake immediately reached for their weapons.

May introduced her.

"Claire Ludwig. Evenson’s girlfriend. She’s a White Mage."

"Please don’t call me that."

Claire brushed off the description.

"I prefer Master of the Mystic Arts."

She glanced toward the windows.

"And what were you people thinking, flying all the way up here? The aurora interferes with my portal magic. It took me forever to lock onto your position."

She paused.

"Of course, that’s just me. If my senior sister had tried it, she probably—"

Claire’s expression became serious.

"No. She definitely would have fallen into the ocean."

Hand and Blake exchanged a look.

So the aurora really did interfere with magic.

Coulson looked at Claire.

"How did you end up coming instead?"

Technically, this was the first time he’d met her face-to-face.

He’d read her file. He knew she wasn’t ordinary.

Still...

Was S.H.I.E.L.D. really paying special-operations consultant rates so Evenson could send his girlfriend to cover his shifts?

"Do you have a problem with that?"

Claire’s irritation surfaced immediately.

She was already annoyed that Evenson had gone after the Fel Rift without taking her.

Now Coulson sounded as though he doubted her.

"Listen," she said. "Evenson is strong. I know that. But I’m not exactly helpless. I’m currently the senior Master of the Mystic Arts at Kamar-Taj. Even the current Sorcerer Supreme doesn’t raise his voice at me."

She wisely left out several other titles she had given herself.

And the Shadow Supreme thing.

That would have been harder to explain.

Coulson rubbed his temples.

After a moment, he sighed.

Fine.

Evenson being unreliable wasn’t exactly new.

More importantly, Claire knew magic.

"Ms. Ludwig—"

"Claire is fine."

"Claire, then."

Coulson carefully chose his next words.

"From your professional perspective, is precognition possible?"

"Absolutely."

Every agent in the room stiffened.

Claire continued before anyone could react.

"But it’s extremely difficult. In most cases, it requires an exceptionally rare artifact. Other people might occasionally glimpse the future through dreams under unusual circumstances, but those visions are usually vague and unreliable. They aren’t particularly useful."

Coulson nodded.

"What about telepathy?"

"That exists, too."

Claire answered without hesitation.

"Certain mystics, particularly practitioners of dark magic, can alter their own mental frequency and synchronize it with another person’s brainwaves. In theory, that allows them to perceive thoughts."

"In theory?"

"Very few people can actually do it. As far as I know, nobody currently alive can perform it at a meaningful level."

Claire raised a finger.

"And even then, it only works on people with relatively simple thought patterns or weak mental defenses. The more complicated the mind, the harder it becomes. More importantly, the practitioner has to establish contact with the target and become familiar with their mental frequency."

"So they can’t just scan an entire room?"

"Of course not."

Claire shook her head.

"Everyone’s mental frequency is different. Without prior contact and sufficient familiarity, synchronization isn’t possible."

She considered the question for a moment.

"As for large-scale mind reading... I don’t know whether the legendary brainwave amplifier actually exists. But if we’re talking about using the human brain alone, broadcasting a psychic signal over a wide area would probably leave the user mentally exhausted at best."

"At worst?"

"Brain death."

Coulson’s expression brightened slightly.

That was exactly what he needed to hear.

"Thank you, Claire. You’ve been extremely helpful. You should get some rest."

Claire blinked.

"That’s it?"

She looked genuinely confused.

"Does Evenson normally come onto the Bus, answer two questions, and then go take a nap?"

"Something like that."

Coulson ushered her toward a room farther away from the conference chamber.

Unlike Evenson, Claire wasn’t someone he knew well enough to include in the operational planning.

Once she was out of sight, Coulson returned to the table.

"You all heard her."

He looked around at the assembled agents.

"Combining her professional assessment with what I’ve already suspected, the Clairvoyant is likely someone we’ve encountered before."

The room grew quiet.

"More specifically," Coulson continued, "someone S.H.I.E.L.D. previously tried to recruit."

The agents began considering the possibility.

May did the same.

Then, almost by accident, she glanced toward the wall.

Her eyes widened.

Claire was floating through it.

She’d apparently decided that being dismissed from the meeting wasn’t going to stop her from listening.

Claire raised one finger to her lips.

Shh.

Her expression said everything.

You thought you could leave me out? Try dealing with astral projection.

May stared at her for several seconds.

Then slowly looked back toward the meeting.

She said nothing.

...