The Troll by Brian Darr Read Free Book Online Page B

to lose control again.
    “ You
see? Complete takeover,” The Telepath said. “Psi will
be removed from you before this begins, so you won’t have to
worry about that again.”
    The
Troll understood, but he wasn’t worried about The Telepath
taking control of his body. It was how he could control others around
him. He suddenly had more motivation to stay away from crowds.
    The
seventh stood, but The Troll barely noticed. He saw movement, but it
hardly looked like a human being. “We’ve already met. I’m
The Chameleon. All of my clothes have been engineered using very
small mirrors which absorb the light around me. If I’m moving,
you’ll see the shape of my body breaking apart from my
surroundings, but if I hold still, I’m easy to miss and will
slowly disappear in the scenery. I was once a calendar girl in
magazines, objectified for my body, men cat-called when I walked down
the street. I have found that being hidden but strong gives me
unbelievable power. There is greater power within than what is on the
surface. My persona is proof of that.”
    The
Troll couldn’t help but say “wow” and she seemed to
be satisfied by his awe. She sat down, but he couldn’t take his
eyes off of her until the next stood.
    “ I’m
The Poet,” the man said. He had wavy hair and a neatly trimmed
goatee. The Troll made a mental note to keep his mouth shut and have
greater control over his voice. He’d spent a lot of time on the
boards talking trash to poets and The Poet demonstrated why. “I
am only but a delicate flower in a field of thousands like myself,
but I am my own shape and size, my own idiosyncrasies and
characteristics that I can see and feel but others can not.”
    No
one was amused, least of all The Troll, but he remained respectful.
He suspected if he was on the run and The Poet was on his tail, and
they came face to face, The Poet would be the one with his head
bashed in.
    “ I
have seen what you have had to say about my passion on
the boards that you frequent, and I begged to be a part of this until
alas, The Moderator granted my wish.”
    The
Troll blocked him out and his eyes wandered the room, observing the
others again. He couldn’t take The Poet seriously, but had to
play the game for now. When The Poet stopped speaking, The Troll
found his eyes again and The Poet couldn’t hide his disdain for
The Troll. He tried to remember everything he’d ever said about
poets and poetry—there was far too much. He wanted to believe
The Poet to be a non-threat, but something burned in his eyes…
    “ I’m
The Weatherman,” the ninth man said. The Troll watched as a
morbidly obese man with curly hair and thick glasses pulled himself
out of the chair. “I worked for the government in a previous life on a program called
HAARP.”
    “ What’s
that?” The Troll asked.
    “ High
Frequency Active Auroral Research Program. I helped create the
Ionospheric Research Instrument, which is a high power radio
frequency transmitter which could temporarily excite a limited area
of the ionosphere. What we were trying to do was control weather
patterns. We were headed in that direction but funding was cut. The
Moderator believed in what we were doing and I’m the only
remaining member of HAARP and have access to everything. Most
importantly, I have this.”
    He
held up a small remote, with only a few switches on it.
    “ This
little device links to a satellite that can manipulate echos and
frequencies with a little control from a combination of Psi and
pointing and clicking. I’d love to demonstrate what it can do,
but hopefully you’ll see for yourself later.”
    “ What
can it do?” The Troll asked.
    “ Create
single bolts of lightning, strong winds, rainfall, magnify heat...”
    The
Troll hadn’t been scared of The Weatherman at first sight, but
this changed things.
    “ We
were going to use the weather to win wars at one time, create natural
disasters that our enemies blamed mother nature for. Then Psi came
along