The Thought Readers (Mind Dimensions #1)(47)

It’s interesting to contemplate the fact that in this room, everyone could be doing what I’m doing right now, at any time. Are people watching me frozen as they do so? It’s hard to imagine myself standing there, not moving, not thinking, as someone else goes about his or her business while I’m none the wiser.

Shelving these thoughts for later, I touch Eugene’s forearm.

“What do we do now?” I ask him when he joins me in the Quiet. “That was a huge flop.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Eugene says. “I didn’t really have a clear plan.”

“This Julia, how do you know her? She seems to be sympathetic.”

“We had a class together in college. Then, for some reason, she agreed to date me.” He smiles ruefully. “But when her father found out my status, he freaked out. He’s very traditional.”

“And this is supposed to be more open-minded than Russia?”

“That I’m alive is testament to that,” Eugene says. “I thought we might have a chance at getting help here because Jacob hates Pushers more than anyone. Under normal circumstances, anyone even remotely in trouble with Pushers automatically becomes an ‘enemy of his enemy’ kind of friend.”

“Except you,” I say, looking at him.

“Right. I think my history with Julia hurt our chances. The problem is, this is Mira’s life on the line, not mine.”

“If you don’t mind, I want to talk to Julia some more,” I say, unwilling to give up.

“Go ahead,” he says. He looks over at her, his face drawn. There’s something in his eyes, in the way he watches her, that tells me he’s far from over her. Then he shakes his head, looking away. “I’m not sure if it’s going to help, though.”

Instead of arguing, I walk over to her and pull her in.

“Darren.” She smiles at me. “I was about to Split to talk to the two of you. It looks like you beat me to it.”

“It’s funny how that works,” Eugene says. “I have this time-slicing algorithm I developed that simulates—”

“Eugene, I’m so sorry about my dad,” Julia interrupts him gently. My guess is that she wanted to stop a science diatribe. I suspect it’s not the first time she’s done this. “Let’s talk about what we can do for Mira, if you don’t mind.”

“After the conversation with your dad, I thought you wouldn’t be able to do anything to help,” Eugene responds, science forgotten as worry shadows his face again.

“I’m going with you,” she says. “Together, we’ll get her out of whatever trouble she’s in.”

“No,” Eugene protests. “That would be too dangerous—”

“I’m doing this.” She gives him a steely look. “I’ve had enough of people telling me what to do.”

“No, Julia, I don’t mean to tell you what to do.” Eugene immediately backtracks. “I just worry about you, that’s all . . .”

Her icy glare warms considerably, and she takes a step toward him.

“With all due respect,” I interject, “how can you help us, Julia? This sounds like a job for someone like that.” I point at motionless Caleb.

“I’m good at getting into places I shouldn’t—picking locks, that kind of thing,” Julia says, turning to look at me. “It’s a skill that could come in handy in exactly the type of mission I imagine this will become. But you’re right, we need Caleb or one of his people. We have to convince him to help without my dad’s orders.”

“How do we do that?” Eugene asks.

“Can we pay him?” I suggest. With the stock options I got at the gym, money will soon be easy to come by. Even easier than it usually has been for me.

“If you’re talking about money, it won’t work,” Julia says. “But there are other forms of payment.”

“What are you suggesting?” Eugene looks puzzled.

“Nothing sinister.” Julia grins. “You see, your friend Darren seems to have impressed Caleb. Actually, he impressed both of us with his Reading Depth.”

“Oh?” Eugene says, and I recall that this is a sensitive subject for these people. Something like asking about the size of someone’s paycheck or his package were the analogies used, I think.

“What does my Reading Depth have to do with Caleb?” I ask.

“Caleb is obsessed with improving his fighting skills,” Julia says. “He’s already rumored to be the best fighter among the Readers. Still, he’s always looking to get better.”

“I’m not going to fight him, if that’s what you’re about to offer,” I say, shuddering. I’m not a fan of violence, plus I’m not suicidal. The guy will probably kill me before I get a single punch in.

Julia laughs. If she weren’t laughing at my expense, I would say her laugh was nice. In general, she’s a very pretty girl. I can see why Eugene likes her, and I can tell that he truly does. I’m less clear why the reverse is true, but it must be, as I catch her giving him decidedly warm glances. It’s weird—I always thought geeky types like Eugene didn’t do well with women. Of course, this is based solely on my friend Bert, which isn’t exactly a valid statistical sample.