The Thought Pushers (Mind Dimensions #2)(37)



“Leachers have strict taboos about breeding outside their little clique. They shun anyone born as a half-blood, as they call them. We’re much more open about it. It was even encouraged to some degree in the past, when our numbers were particularly small.”

“Really?” From what Eugene told me, a Reader’s power is directly related to how long one can spend in the Quiet, and having children with non-Readers seems to reduce the latter ability. I wonder if it’s the same for Guides, but I can’t ask that without showing that I know too much.

Liz nods. “Yes, after one of the worst genocides, we were down to just a dozen or so individuals. If we hadn’t become more open-minded, we would’ve had serious inbreeding problems. Even now, our genetic diversity is fairly low. Of course, back in the day, our stance on having kids outside the Guide community was the same as that of Leachers. And to this day, there are some people—we call them the Traditionalists—who want us to have assigned mates. Fortunately, they’re a tiny minority and are usually ignored. The only downside, and the thing that scares the Traditionalists, is that children born of such mixed lineage usually have diminished Reach. So, theoretically, if we keep diluting our gene pool, we might lose the very thing that makes us different.”

“What’s Reach?” I ask, guessing that she gave me a segue into learning about the power variation that Readers value so much.

“It has to do with how long you can freeze time, which impacts how deeply and for how long you can Guide someone,” she says, confirming my suspicions.

“Interesting. So how long can you freeze time and how does that affect your control over people?” I say, wondering if Guides have the same taboo when it comes to talking about this stuff.

“It’s not a topic for polite conversation,” she says, confirming my suspicion. “But if you agree to keep it confidential, I would be willing to share. You have, after all, shared your life with me all these years.”

“Sure, I won’t tell anybody,” I say. “And your telling me this only begins to scratch the surface when it comes to making up for all this ‘therapy.’”

“Fair enough,” she says with a wry smile. “I can spend almost an hour in the Mind Dimension, which is what we call this place where we are right now. When I use my power to aid in therapy, I’m able to get my patients to change their undesirable behavior for as long as a week—but my Reach is much less than that. I’m just good at getting people on the right track with my suggestions, so they continue doing what I meant them to for a while. This works out nicely, since my patients usually see me once a week.”

“You use Guiding for therapy?” I don’t know why that surprises me, but it does.

“Of course, the ability can be—and has been—used to help people. I’m one of the few psychologists who can truly modify a patient’s behavior. That’s why people value my services so much, and why my fees are so high. Other doctors can only boast of being able to do this. My Guiding ability is invaluable when it comes to treating conditions like OCD and other disorders.”

“But in my case, you couldn’t use it because you thought there was a chance you could pull me into the Mind Dimension?”

“Right. Had I been sure that you were just a delusional patient, I would’ve helped you, after you were old enough.”

“Old enough?”

“We don’t Guide young children. It’s one of the ancient taboos that we still follow in modern times. And it’s a good thing. From what I know about developmental psychology, Guiding a child might leave adverse, long-term effects,” she says.

“What about adults? Are there side effects to Guiding?” I wonder.

“It depends on the situation. The way I Guide my patients is completely harmless and improves their quality of life.”

I think about all this. The taboo makes sense. I can see a number of creepy reasons someone might have a rule not to touch children, even in the Quiet. And especially in order to mind control them. The therapy she does is interesting, though. I picture using Guiding to stop someone from obsessive hand washing. It wouldn’t be hard. The person would just think his OCD is going away rather than that he’s being mind-controlled by his therapist. And would it be so wrong to do this? Probably not.

“You know,” I say, looking at her, “I would’ve thought a Leacher’s power would be more helpful to a therapist.”

“Perhaps it would be, but I wouldn’t know,” Liz says with a shrug. “To me, some of the usefulness of talk therapy is in the talking itself. A Leacher wouldn’t need to talk to the patients as much.”

“I have to admit, you’re making me feel better about this power. Upon first hearing about it, I thought it sounded a little creepy,” I say, watching her face to see if she takes offense.

She doesn’t. In fact, the corners of her mouth turn up in a smile. “Yes, I could see how it might seem that way. That’s certainly how Leachers justify their hatred of us. Our ability seems unnatural if you don’t think about it deeply. That’s mostly due to the misconception we have about free will. Specifically, that it exists.”

“Do Guides think free will is an illusion, then?” As soon as I ask the question, I realize I made a mistake. This is a philosophical discussion—and those, in my opinion, have as little place in polite conversation as money, politics, sex, and religion.

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