The Thought Readers (Mind Dimensions #1)(34)

I, Darren, decide I’ve had enough and jump out.



*



I’m speechless, torn between empathy and glee.

I do feel bad for Jason. It’s painful to see legendary people like that fall. His disappointment is intense. His wife is getting him through it, though, and that’s encouraging. Maybe there is something to the whole marriage thing after all. And he’s probably wrong about his wife—I bet she understands what’s about to come down. She probably just knows the right things to say to her husband. On a slightly more positive side, I’m glad he wasn’t contemplating something insane, like blowing his brains out. I don’t know what I’d do in that case. Would I try to stop him? Probably I would, though how to start that conversation without seeming like a lunatic is beyond me.

Anyway, I can’t dwell on these depressing thoughts. Not when Jason’s tragedy can be my get-rich-ridiculously-quick scheme.

I phase out, and on an impulse, I take out my phone. Did I mention I love smartphones? Anyway, I bring up my trading app. The bank’s stock is the highest it’s been in the past four years. Clearly nobody has any idea what’s about to happen.

I have to act. I check on the price of put options. Those are basically contracts with someone assuring you they’ll buy from you at an agreed-upon price within a given time period. It turns out that an option to sell at a lower price than where the stock is right now is dirt-cheap. That’s because put options are like insurance, and in this case, people are betting the price will be steady or higher. I have thirty-two thousand dollars in cash in my trading account, and I use it all to buy the put options.

With some very conservative assumptions, if the stock drops even ten percent, I’ll still be able to make a lot, either by selling the options or exercising them. If the stock completely tanks, like that of the ‘too big to fail’ banks during the crisis, I might end up making a cool million from the money I just invested. And, of course, I’ll invest more of my money when I’m near a computer. There’s only so much you can do on the phone. I think I might even put all of my savings into this, though I have to be careful. The SEC might wonder about me if I go overboard. Also, what if I Read someone else and get an even better tip? My money would be locked up for a few weeks. Though, I have to admit, it’s hard to picture a better scenario.

And regarding the SEC, I wish I knew at what point someone shows up on their radar. Not that they’d have anything on me, even if they noticed my activity. They work on proof, unlike the casinos—proof like phone conversations or email records. Things they would not have in my case. Still, I don’t want the bother of an investigation.

I can’t believe Mira makes her money playing cards with criminals. This way is so much easier. I really hope she doesn’t do it for money. If I find out that’s the case, and offer Eugene and her some money, I wonder if they would accept. Somehow I think she might be too proud, but I ought to try. I’m feeling very generous right now. I’ve never had any trouble with money, even without the job at the fund, but now, with Reading, I see that I will quickly reach a new level of financial independence.

I’m so wired now, I have to go harder on myself during the rest of the workout. Lifting heavy weights seems to clear my mind. I’m not sure if that’s a common experience or just me being weird. There’s only one way to find out, so I Read a few minds to investigate. According to my informal gym-based study, other people also feel good after lifting weights. Good to know.

When I’m done with the gym and get in my car, I text Amy. She’s an acquaintance from Harvard. That’s another reason to go there, by the way—to make important connections that help you get jobs.

Networking is not why I want to meet with Amy today, however. I do it because she’s crazy, in exactly the way I need.

She wants to do sushi, and after some back-and-forth, I give in. I guess I’ll have sushi for the second day in a row. It’s a good thing I like the stuff so much.

We meet at her favorite midtown place and catch up. She works at another fund, so it’s easy to convince her this is just an impromptu networking session. Except I’m here for a different reason.

Amy is into extreme experiences of all sorts. In some ways, she’s the opposite of me. For example, she’s just bitten into Fugu sashimi. Fugu is that poisonous blowfish that the Japanese never allowed their emperor to eat. The fish contains tetrodotoxin, a neurotoxin fatal to humans and other creatures. If the chef messed up Amy’s order, it could be deadly. Each fish has enough poison to kill around thirty people. And Amy’s eating it like it’s nothing. That’s the sort of person she is. It’s perfect for me, so I phase into the Quiet.

Amy is still, chopsticks carrying their potentially deadly load into her mouth. She isn’t cringing or anything. I have to respect her for that.

I approach her and get into her mind, not bothering to rewind events.



*



We’re chewing the Fugu. I, Amy, can’t get enough of the stuff, while I, Darren, am severely disappointed. The flavor is much too subtle for me. It doesn’t really taste like much of anything. Given the health risks, I would’ve expected this to taste like lobster multiplied by a hundred.

I go deeper.

We’re flying in a plane. This is our first non-tandem jump, and we feel the adrenaline rush just getting on the plane. When it takes us to fifteen thousand feet, we get our first ‘feargasm,’ as we like to call it.