The Thought Pushers (Mind Dimensions Book 2) (5 page)

“Fine, so he’s a strange case,” Mira concedes. “It doesn’t mean he’s telling the truth about anything.”

“Which is why there’s another test I want him to take. It won’t tell us everything, but it will tell us if he’s being honest with us. See, using my equipment, I can set up a pretty good polygraph test.” Eugene is beginning to sound almost giddy at the mention of equipment.

“A lie detector test?” Mira frowns.

“Exactly.” Eugene beams at her. “Like what regular people use, only better, using my research and equipment. Ever since I learned that a Reader can’t Read others of our kind, I’ve been trying to figure out how we can keep each other honest. This is the best idea I’ve had so far. I can re-purpose some of the neurofeedback and other biofeedback devices that—”

“But can’t people beat those things?” Mira asks, interrupting him. I’m starting to feel like I’m not even in the room. “Will it be a hundred-percent accurate?”

“Nothing is that accurate. And I suppose he
could
beat it, but it’s unlikely. People can learn to beat the standard tests, but even then they need to do all this research into the methods used, and then train themselves to modify their natural responses. None of which Darren’s had time to do—especially since he doesn’t even know the methods I’ll be using. This is the first he’s even heard about being tested, so he’s had no time to prepare.”

“Okay, Darren—if that’s even your name.” Mira stands up on tiptoe to look at me over Eugene’s shoulder. “If you agree to submit to my brother’s test, I’ll listen to what you came here to say. And I might not shoot you afterwards.”

“Sure,” I say readily. “I’ll take the test; I have nothing to hide.”

That’s pretty much the truth. With only one small caveat I don’t mention: Eugene is wrong on many points when it comes to this whole plan. First, I actually do know a quite a bit about these kinds of tests. I’m one of those people who did the research into how to beat them. The theory of it isn’t actually specific to the test being given, since they all relate to biorhythms. Regardless of what Eugene changed about his test, I’m sure it still works on the same principles. Principles that can be taken advantage of—if I choose to do so.

“Okay, great,” Eugene says. “I’ll get ready. You leave the Mind Dimension and come back here to our apartment.” He walks into his bedroom—I assume to reach his frozen body and phase out. And hopefully put on some pants.

Mira lingers for a moment and gives me a hard-to-define look. “You better pass,” she says, and without giving me a chance to respond, goes into her own bedroom.

In a strange stupor, I make my way back to my body on the bench and phase out.

The world comes alive, and I consider making a run for it rather than going back. If Eugene messes up his science, I could be in real trouble. Plus, from what I know of lie detection, it’s not even an exact science. It’s actually part scam, often meant to scare guilty people into confessing things they’re trying to hide. That’s the biggest secret I learned while researching this.

A polygraph test is certainly not something I’d trust with my life.

I
would
make a run for it, but I want Mira to stop looking at me the way she has been, like I’m some kind of a monster. Like I had something to do with her parents getting killed. Also, there is that practical matter—the reason I came here in the first place. This second element is what decides it for me.

I cross the road again, only in the real world this time.

Eugene buzzes me in and opens the door. He’s now dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, and he informs me that the equipment is set up.

I try to make myself as comfortable as I can while he hooks me up to his laptop. I must look even more ridiculous than during the Reader test he gave me the other day. I have electrodes attached all over my head, presumably to measure my brain waves. I have a heartbeat monitor on my finger and a device that looks like a rubber band around my chest. I assume the latter is for detecting increased respiration. Another gadget seems to measure skin conductance—the measure of how sweaty you get. Finally, there are a few cables with purposes I don’t understand. These make me nervous. I hope they’re not meant to administer electric shock or something; that’s what comes to my mind when I look at them.

Through all the setup, Eugene seems as excited as a kid at a birthday party.

After making what seems like a thousand adjustments, he finally seems satisfied. “I’m done,” he yells, looking at the door.

Mira enters the room—carrying a gun, of course. She’s swapped her PJs for skinny jeans and a low-cut tank top, a casual outfit for her. I can’t believe I have the bandwidth to think
hot
about someone who wants to shoot me, but that’s exactly what comes to mind when I look at Mira.

As she stares at me, her serious expression alters, and I see tiny crinkles form in the corners of her eyes. Great. She’s amused at how ridiculous I look. I probably would be too, if I were in her shoes. I don’t mind being mocked in this case; I’d sooner she laugh than point that gun at me. Maybe I should get myself a jester’s hat so she doesn’t feel the constant urge to shoot me.

She puts the gun down and sits crossed-legged on the floor, settling herself on top of a bunch of papers, cables, and other random stuff Eugene has lying around. I make sure
not
to look down her low-cut tank top—despite the fact that it would be possible. From what I’ve read, arousal can be misinterpreted as a sign of lying with these tests.

“Okay, Darren, what’s two plus two?” Eugene asks.

Don’t ask me why I bothered to learn how to beat the polygraph exam. Let’s just say if my investing activities ever led to my having to take one, I wanted to be ready. Anyway, I know what this inane question is about. Eugene is establishing a baseline. His readings of my answers to the obviously true statements will later be compared to readings after I answer more important questions. So, if I wanted to cheat, I could make myself nervous as I answer this question. That wouldn’t be difficult for someone like me, who’s spent most of his life making himself nervous in order to phase into the Quiet.

But I decide against trying to cheat, also known as
using countermeasures
. First, I don’t really have anything to hide, so why bother? Second, as unlikely as it sounds, Eugene could be right. The fact that he’s using his own version of the test might mean there’s some physical reaction he’s monitoring that I might not have under control—some new principle I haven’t read about. If that’s the case, he may think I’m messing with the test. And messing with these tests is as good an indicator as any that you’re hiding something. In our case, that’s the last thing I want Mira to think. The whole point of this is to gain her trust.

“Please answer quickly,” Eugene says, bringing me out of my thoughts. His expression is darkening, and I realize I already started my test on the wrong foot.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m a little nervous. I really want you guys to believe me.”

“Fine. Take a deep breath,” he says, looking at the monitor.

I do as he says, taking a couple of relaxing breaths.

“Good. Now, just answer what I ask you, when I ask you,” Eugene says. “What’s two plus six?”

“Eight,” I answer quickly, letting him get a clean baseline.

“And what’s your name?” Eugene keeps his eyes on his laptop.

“Darren,” I say simply.

“Did you know that either I or Mira existed before you met her in Atlantic City the other day?”

“No.”

“Did you save Mira yesterday?”

“Yes.”

“Are you a Reader?”

“I’m not sure. I hope so.”

“Are you a Pusher?”

“I’m not sure. I hope not.”

“Did you know you might be a Pusher before yesterday?”

“No.”

“Are you running a con game with us as targets?”

“No.”

“Do you have a crush on my sister?”

“What?” I say, caught completely off-guard with this one. Then, realizing I’m messing up, I reluctantly admit, “Maybe. Well, yes. Not a crush, but—”

“Thank you,” Eugene says with a smirk, his eyes leaving the screen for the first time during this barrage of questions. Then he turns toward his sister. “He’s telling the truth.”

I glance at Mira and catch a strange look on her face. Was she just blushing? That seems unlikely. I must be imagining things due to my embarrassment over being put on the spot like that. But I know why Eugene did it. He wanted to ask something that I would react to, so he can be sure his device detects lies when they happen. That last question was perfect for that. He’s even more clever than I thought.
Asshole
.

“Okay, that’s great. He’s not lying.” Mira turns away from me to look at her brother. “That still doesn’t tell us what the fuck he is.”

“You know he’s not someone who means you any harm,” Eugene says, his voice unexpectedly stern. “Shouldn’t that be enough?”

This is the first time I hear that kind of tone in his voice. Mira looks taken aback too, so it must be a rare occurrence.

I decide to jump in. “Mira, I want to know what I am even more than you do. Eugene is right—I don’t mean you any harm. The opposite, actually.”

“Oh, shut up,” she says dismissively. “The opposite. Right. You are so selfless. Please. I know your type. All you care about is yourself.”

I look at Eugene for help. Eugene doesn’t meet my eyes. I’m on my own.

Her lip curls. “You know I’m right. Quick, while you still have to tell the truth, why don’t you tell us why you came? Was it to help us? Or was it to save your own skin?”

“Well,” I say uncomfortably, “I guess under the circumstances I won’t deny it. I came to ask you not to tell other Readers about what you saw me do.”

“Exactly,” she says, her voice dripping with disdain.

“You don’t know what I know. You don’t know how brutally Readers kill Pushers,” I say, losing my patience. “It’s not being selfish if I don’t want to be murdered by Caleb or someone like him.”

“And how would you know anything about Readers killing Pushers?” She gives me a suspicious look, making me realize I just goofed.

“I saw it in Caleb’s mind, okay? He made me do that Joint Reading thing with him earlier today, and I saw through his eyes how he killed one of them.” I realize I’m going back on my word to Caleb about not sharing what we saw in each other’s minds, but I can’t help it. I’m desperate to prove my case to Mira.

She doesn’t have a comeback. She just looks at Eugene in shock.

“That was the truth,” he says. “Now can we stop this foolishness? Darren is clearly not against us, so I’m going to unhook him. Meanwhile, Darren, I want to hear every little detail about the Joining.”

As he gets me out of the cables, I tell them about my Joining with Caleb, omitting things that Caleb and I would consider too personal. I also swear both Mira and Eugene to secrecy, and hope that Caleb never finds out I divulged even the few details I shared.

“Unbelievable,” Eugene says when I finish. “I would give my left pinkie to try that. I only did it one time, with Julia, but it was nothing like what you describe. Dad was right. This experience changes based on how powerful the participants are . . .”

As he speaks, Mira begins to glower at him. “No way,” she interrupts. “I see where you’re going with this, and the answer is
no
. I’ll shoot him before I let you Join minds with him.”

“What? Why?” Eugene says, clearly disappointed.

“Because even if he didn’t know he was a Pusher before, he knows it now. Once he’s inside your mind, he’ll have you in his power.” She turns to glare at me.

“Is that true?” Eugene asks me. He doesn’t look scared; if anything, he looks excited. I guess the scientist in him is relishing all this.

“I have no idea,” I say honestly. “I didn’t realize that was a possibility until Mira suggested it just now. It was so confusing in there, I’m not sure if I would’ve been able to figure out how to do that, even if I wanted to try. Our minds were as one. I could’ve just as easily Pushed myself to do something while trying to influence him. And, of course, I wouldn’t want to try it, especially with Caleb or you, Eugene. Him, because if it failed, he would kill me or worse. And you, because . . . well, I just wouldn’t.”

“There, you see, Mira? He wouldn’t Push me,” Eugene says. “And if I Join with him, that would beat any lie detector test when it comes to learning the truth.”

“Do you even hear yourself?” She gives him an exasperated look. “Of course he says he wouldn’t Push you. And besides, why are you trying to use truth-seeking as an excuse? Didn’t your test just prove that he’s telling the truth?”

Eugene says, “Well, yes—”

I’m beginning to get tired of their bickering. “I’m sorry to interrupt, Eugene,” I say, “but this isn’t necessary. I don’t want to do any Joint Reading with you. The one time with Caleb was enough, trust me.”

Mira gives me a grateful look. I guess I’m her ally in this. Eugene is doing a terrible job hiding his deep disappointment. I can’t believe he still wants to do this, given what Mira just told him. If I thought someone could Push me under some circumstances, I’d avoid the said circumstances at all costs.

“It wouldn’t be the same if you did it with
me
,” he says pleadingly. “It wouldn’t be like what you experienced with Caleb. This thing varies depending on participants’ Depth and intellect. The higher those things are, the deeper the Joining. Also, the mind of the subject might make a difference. And possibly—”

“You’re not helping your case with that,” I say. “It was deep enough for me. I wouldn’t want to make it deeper.”

“Think about it,” Eugene insists. “I think if we did it, you wouldn’t regret it. You had a bad experience, so you’re obviously going to be wary. I probably would be too, if I glimpsed something as frightening as Caleb’s mind.”

“Hey, that’s not fair. Caleb saved me,” Mira reminds him. “No need to get all high and mighty.”

“So Caleb is a good guy, but me, who also saved you, you’re ready to shoot,” I say bitterly. “Did Eugene tell you why I did this crazy thing with Caleb to begin with? That it was actually payment to your precious Caleb for saving you?”

“Is that true?” she asks Eugene, giving me an odd look.

“Yes. I didn’t get a chance to tell you.” Eugene looks uncomfortable.

“I see,” she says slowly. “Okay, Darren. Maybe I won’t shoot you anytime soon. And I’m not a rat, so your secret is safe with me. Even if we don’t really even know what that secret is. Are you happy now?”

“Yes. Thank you,” I say, relieved. I’m okay with her attitude for now. It beats being shot or revealed as a potential Pusher.

“Great. Now that it’s settled, can we get some breakfast?” Eugene gives us a big smile. “I’m starving.”

Mira rolls her eyes. “How are you not much, much fatter?” she asks rhetorically before saying, “Sure. Let’s go get something. I have some more questions for Darren, and we might as well kill two birds with one stone.”

“I’m in,” I say, though I’m not sure I want to answer any questions Mira is thinking of asking me. The green smoothie I had earlier was more of a snack, so a real breakfast sounds like a wonderful idea.

It takes them a few moments to put on shoes. One elevator ride and a flight of stairs later, we’re walking through the lobby.

We approach the door. I feel chivalrous for some reason, so I hold open the glass door that leads outside the building. I’m doing it for Mira, of course, but Eugene benefits too.

“Thank you,” Mira says, exiting after Eugene. “Where are we going to eat?”

“The diner?” Eugene suggests hopefully.

As I follow them, I have a sense of déjà vu. She’s about to bring up the food poisoning story again. They’ll fight. Then she’ll get her way and choose the breakfast place she wants. I guess it’s a thing with siblings; they have the same fights over and over, with the same results. Must be kind of nice.

Suddenly, there is a loud noise—a strange sound that scrapes at the inside of my ears.

I’m caught off-guard. Instinctively, I phase into the Quiet.

The argument between Mira and Eugene stops, their faces frozen. The sound also stops.

I turn around.

It’s the glass door. It’s shattering in a strange pattern. From a spot in the middle, the glass is flying out in small fragments. Farther out, the glass is falling in larger chunks.

Something struck that glass at high speed and with high force.

I feel cold as I rush into the building, fearing what I’ll find there. It takes me less than a minute to discover the culprit.

It’s a bullet.

A bullet is lying on the floor in the hallway.