The Thought Pushers (Mind Dimensions #2)(11)
He takes a deep breath and lets it out in an audible sigh. “I’m sorry. This is a sensitive issue for me.”
“I understand,” I say cautiously. I wonder if he’s so touchy because Eugene, a half-blood, used to date his daughter. “You have to realize that I have a deep affinity for normal people—” I use my fingers to make air quotes around the word normal, “—since until recently, I assumed I was one. I didn’t know Readers existed.”
“Right, and that is probably a good reason for you to trust me. My people have had centuries to develop the best strategy for dealing with our situation—and it is not to let anyone know of our existence. That’s why I thought it important to talk to you. You are new to this, and being young, you’re by nature more idealistic, more na?ve, than others. As a child, you didn’t get the usual Reader upbringing. You didn’t learn the horror stories of our turbulent past. Trust me, the danger to our people is real.”
I realize now that I might’ve devil’s-advocated my way into trouble. What if he thinks I can’t keep their secret and decides to silence me for the good of the species?
“You make a good case, Jacob,” I say solemnly. I pretend to think about it for a few seconds, hoping I’m not going overboard. “Upon reflection, I think you might be right about all this.”
Pacified, he smiles. “Mostly everyone comes to that conclusion.”
“I should tell you, though,” I say carefully, “as a child, I might’ve inadvertently broken the rules that I intend to follow from now on. I tried telling people about being able to go into what you call the Mind Dimension. I don’t think my attempts did Readers any harm, though. Everyone just thought I was nuts.“ I figure he can find this out anyway if he wants to—my moms’ and my shrink’s heads would be open books to any Reader—and by volunteering this information, I might be able to forestall any potential snooping. Not to mention, demonstrate my rule-abiding intentions.
As I’d hoped, Jacob shrugs, not looking overly concerned. “What’s done is done. Like you said, it was dismissed; that’s what matters most. It’s not a crime when you don’t know the rules. What’s important is that you’re discreet from now on. If you can mitigate some of your earlier slips, all the better. What’s truly forbidden are demonstrations of Reader abilities with the intent to reveal our nature.”
“Oh, I’ve never done that,” I say. “If we’re talking about Reading, I just didn’t have a chance to show off that particular skill. Of course, I’ve abused going into the Quiet before. In either case, though, I never told—and wouldn’t dream of telling—people about how any of this works, so I definitely have no plans to ‘reveal our nature.’”
I do wonder if Readers approve of using powers the way I’ve been using them, for my personal financial gain. I’m not going to ask Jacob about it, though. If he said ‘stop doing that,’ I’d be out of a job. If it’s forbidden, I’ll stop when he explicitly asks me to. Better to ask forgiveness than permission, right?
“Good. That’s what I thought,” Jacob says, smiling again. “You seem like an intelligent young man.”
“Thank you, Jacob. You don’t need to worry. I work in a field in which confidentiality is important. Besides, I’m a very private person. And don’t worry about the people I mentioned earlier, either—the ones who didn’t believe me. I’ll muddy the waters for them like you asked if it seems needed, but I highly doubt it will even be necessary,” I say, meaning nearly every word.
“That’s wonderful. Thank you for understanding.”
A weight is lifted off my shoulders. I got worried for a second that my moms might be in trouble. Truth be told, they didn’t for a moment believe my stories. If mitigation is needed, the place to start would be with my therapist. I’ve told her quite openly about the Quiet. Not that she believed me any more than my moms did. She thinks it’s just a delusion. Still, I should probably show her that I doubt that delusion, now that, ironically, I know it’s real.
This thought actually answers a question I’ve been pondering for a while—whether I should keep my standing appointment with my shrink tomorrow. Lately, I’ve been paying for my hour so I don’t lose my weekly spot, but not actually going to therapy. But today, I’ve been feeling the urge to actually go. I can now conveniently tell myself that all I want from my shrink is to lie to her about no longer having visions of the world being stopped.
Yep, just going to go ‘to mitigate,’ and not to talk about anything that’s bothering me—like the disturbing things I saw in Caleb’s mind, for example. Or my guilt about Pushing that guy to kill himself. Or that I’m more adopted than I realized. Or even that I’ve met a girl—something my shrink has been nagging me about for ages, almost like a third mom. All that babbling about my feelings would imply that I’m sensitive or something—which I’m definitely not. Nope, this visit will be about this discretion business. But, because I’m there anyway, I might as well talk about some of these other issues with my shrink—the ones that aren’t prohibited by the Reader code, at least. After all, that’s what I pay her for.
“Now that we have the discretion issue squared away, there is another minor thing I wanted to ask you,” Jacob says, distracting me from my musings about the upcoming therapy. “Does the name Mark Robinson mean anything to you?”