The Thought Pushers (Mind Dimensions #2)(38)

“I’m not sure if that’s a group-wide view,” Liz says. “I, personally, don’t believe in free will. I’ve read studies that have convinced me of this. People concoct reasons, after the fact, for behavior that’s outside of their control. A classic example of that is how a person’s brain signals an arm to move before a person is conscious of deciding to move it.”

“That doesn’t fully make sense to me,” I say. “I like to think that we can choose what happens to us. Otherwise, if it’s all outside our control, people can get fatalistic.”

She laughs, ending our debate. “You know, you’ll feel right at home when I introduce you to my friends,” she says, still smiling. “I can tell you’re going to get along with some of them.”

She wants to introduce me to her friends? That could be a problem.

“Actually, Liz, I’m not sure how eager I am to meet any Guides besides you,” I say slowly. Pausing, I look at her, and then decide to just say it. “You see, I think a Guide is trying to kill me.”





Chapter 18


“What?” Liz’s whole demeanor changes. “What are you talking about?”

I give her a carefully edited version of what happened to me at the hospital. I describe the attempt on my life, and lie that my mom—the detective—spoke to the nurse who tried to kill me. I say that the nurse reported blanking out during the whole ordeal, and that my mom, who is a seasoned investigator, seemed to believe her. This is as close as I dare get to the truth—which is that my friend, one of the ‘evil Leachers,’ read the nurse’s mind and found out that the woman has amnesia.

“That is very strange,” Liz says when I’m done. “It’s true that if the nurse had been Guided to do something so out of character, she would’ve forgotten the event completely. But how do you know that she’s not a Leacher agent just trying to make it look like one of us was after you? Or that it wasn’t a strange coincidence?”

“Even if she was a Leacher, she wouldn’t be able to lie to my mom any better than a regular person, I would imagine,” I tell Liz. “And coincidence sounds like too much of a stretch to me. I mean, how often do people just forget something that they did, unless they’re under the influence, or on drugs?”

“That does seem suspicious,” she concedes. “But in any event, even if you’re right, meeting the Guide community would be your best course of action. Trying to kill one of our own is not tolerated. If some Guide did try to harm you, he or she would face serious consequences.”

“Oh? What exactly would happen to him?” I ask, intrigued.

“I’m not sure. We don’t have much Guide-on-Guide crime. Back in the day, someone like that would’ve been sterilized or even killed. Now, I’m not sure. I know that we wouldn’t let this person be taken into the regular judicial system. Not given what we can do. Most likely, this person would either face the Elders or receive vigilante-style justice from our community.”

The Elders? I vaguely register the term, but I’m too interested in the topic at hand to ask her to explain. “So you’re certain I would be safe?” I say instead.

She nods. “Even if someone wanted to kill you, I can’t think of a safer place than where I want to take you,” she says. “Not everyone will be there, only the more open-minded folks, who also happen to be my friends. And I’ll introduce you to Thomas. He was in the Secret Service, so if anyone can protect you, it would be him.”

Secret Service? It’s funny that I thought about that agency just a few minutes earlier. “Unless this Thomas is the person trying to kill me,” I say, half-jokingly. “Then I’ll have brought myself to him on a silver platter.”

“That’s impossible,” Liz says. “He was a patient of mine, like you, so I know what he’s capable of. He wouldn’t have any motive to try to kill you, in any case. If anything, he would find you a kindred soul. You were both adopted—” she says, then suddenly stops. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Doctor-patient privilege and all that.”

I think about this for a moment. It’s not so much her certainty of my safety, but sheer curiosity on my end that helps me make the decision. If I accept Liz’s invitation, I can meet more Guides. More people who can do what I do. I can learn things that I wouldn’t be able to learn otherwise.

“Okay, I’ll meet your friends,” I say. “How do we arrange it?”

Liz smiles. “There’s a party tonight, and now you’re invited. Every one of them is going to be there.” Then, glancing down at her watch, she says, “We best get back to our bodies. We’ve talked for quite a while, and I don’t want to deplete my time.”

Without giving me a chance to respond, she approaches her body and touches her frozen face, bringing us out of the Quiet.

I find myself back in that chair, looking at Liz and unsure what to say.

“Would you like to use up the rest of your hour? And do you plan to continue with your therapy?” she says, her therapist mask back on.

“I think I want to go now,” I say after a moment of consideration. “As to the long-term therapy, can I get back to you on that?”

“Of course,” she says. “It’s entirely up to you. I have your contact information, and I’ll get in touch with you about the party later today.”