The Elders (Mind Dimensions #4)(49)



I frown at him. “Why didn’t you try Assimilating the very first time you pulled me in? Wouldn’t it have been just as helpful as Guiding me in terms of uncovering my agenda?”

He shakes his head. “No, that would’ve been a bad idea, as it would’ve put us at risk.”

“Why?”

“Because if I had ambushed you, you might have tried to fight me, or absorb me, so to speak.” His expression is now serious. “If you had succeeded, you would’ve made me Inert, and you know how I feel about that. Anyway, the more likely outcome would have been me making you Inert in self-defense—another outcome I didn’t desire.”

“It’s interesting how you omitted that going Inert was a possibility when doing this Assimilation thing,” I say, narrowing my eyes.

“Because it wasn’t, not when I didn’t have any intention of doing such a thing to you. If anything, I was putting myself at risk, given that for me, going Inert carries greater consequences.”

“You know what I mean.” I hand him back his gun. “But no point in splitting hairs anymore. I fulfilled my end of the bargain.”

“I am ready to do as I promised,” he says, taking the gun. “I shall take you to the library so you can wait while I speak with George, Kate, and the rest of the team. After that, I will end the Session early, as promised.”





*





I pace back and forth in the library as I wait for Frederick to terminate the Session.

To kill time, I look through the shelves for something to read and settle on How There Can Never Be a Theory of Everything, written by Victoria. I leaf through it for a number of minutes, skimming its contents. To my huge surprise, this book doesn’t mention sex. It’s more of a scientific philosophy treatise about the futility of trying to reduce complex phenomena, such as life, to a simple, all-knowing formula. After what feels like an hour of this, but before I can form a real opinion on the matter, I get bored and decide to find something else to read.

An older-looking volume catches my gaze, and I grab it. The Atrocities, the title states, and the author is none other than Mary, my newfound Reader-hating grammy. As I leaf through the book, I see why she feels so negatively toward Readers. This book catalogues what I learned before—how Readers tried to exterminate Guides. According to Mary, their favorite tactic was piggybacking on an existing conflict. During World War I and World War II, they were able to get rid of thousands of Guides in Western Europe. And afterwards, during Stalin’s Purges, Readers managed to all but wipe out what was left of the Guides in Russia. So yeah, it’s no wonder Mary hates them, as all of these things happened during her lifetime.

I put the book back on the shelf and look for something more cheerful to read, which is probably any other book.

Rows and rows of fascinating subjects line the shelves, but one really catches my attention. It has Eugene written all over it. If I don’t look inside, he’d never forgive me. The book is called Making Machines Work in the Mind Dimension, authored by Alfred. I pull it off the shelf and open the book at a random page. “Steam power is another viable, if primitive solution—”

I don’t get to finish the sentence because I’m no longer standing in the library, holding the book.

I’m back in my real body, next to the airplane, with guns pointed at me.

Except the people lower their guns, and after a few insincere-sounding apologies, they turn around and head for the Castle.

“Frederick told me about his agreement with you,” George says. “I think his idea to utilize Kate’s team is genius.”

“And it will be good for their morale,” Kate says with uncharacteristic cheerfulness. “Despite it being a simple extraction, the team will be happy to get off the Island. They’ve been stuck here for months.”

“Now, Darren,” George says. “Where do we set the course to?”

“Back to where we came from,” I say. “We’re going to pick up Hillary and—”

“We don’t need her,” George says. “In fact, I think we should go directly to where your family is and help—”

I hold up my hand, interrupting him. “First, I’m not forming any plans without Hillary,” I say firmly. “And second, it wouldn’t help us to get anywhere yet. The vans are probably still en route. Even without rest stops, the drive from New York to Florida takes twenty hours.”

“So be it,” George says. “But I still don’t see the need to involve your aunt.”

“I won’t put her in danger if that’s what you’re concerned about. You’re not the only one who cares about this family.”

“Are we interrupting something?” a voice booms from a few feet away.

“No, we just settled on our destination,” George says. Then he turns to face the muscle-bound guy who spoke. “Stephen, this is Darren.”

“Nice to meet you, Darren,” the man says. His handshake reminds me of the time I got my finger caught in a lobster’s claw as a kid. Those things do not make good playmates, and neither would Stephen, I’m guessing.

“Where are the others?” Kate asks.

“Eleanor was right behind me,” Stephen says. “John and Richard were in the training room at the Castle, so I’m not sure when they’ll arrive.”

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