is weird, and I promise I will explain all this to you later, but I really, really can’t be connected with this.”
He considered me a moment and then moved with startling swiftness to stand directly in front of me. He looked at me steadily and I felt certain he could taste my fear.
“Fine, but I will want an explanation. Soon.” His voice was stern and his eyes were unfriendly for the first time. I felt something inside me crumple.
So much for making a friend.
“Of course.”
“Ok, then I’ll call the police and tell them I saw this man attacking a girl who ran off before I could see who it was. Does that work for you?” He raised his eyebrows inquiringly, but I could tell the prospect of lying was really bothering him. Well, there was nothing for it.
“Yes. Thank you. You just don’t know what you’re doing for me. Thank you.” My voice was filled with genuine gratitude and I looked at him like he was my hero. At that moment he was.
“Fine. I’m sorry, I won’t be able to take you home now. I’ll have to go down to the station to make a statement.”
He didn’t look happy about it, and I couldn’t really blame him. But if he was going to go with this story, I needed to make sure that Fitz remembered attacking someone or it wouldn’t hold water. I sighed resignedly and turned back to the prostrate form on the ground, wearily reopening the connection between our minds. I was beginning to feel like I’d be stuck in Eddie Fitz’s twisted brain forever. I followed my previous procedure, pushing past his surface thoughts and seeking the place where information is stored.
“You’re a mugger,” I thought at him, waiting to see the information form in his memory.
Nothing happened.
I tried several different variations, but it seemed I couldn’t create memories or thoughts out of nothing. I paused, frustrated, for a moment, and then certain images floated to the surface, images I had downloaded from a disgusting man I brushed up against on the subway three years ago, before I learned to cover all my bare skin. That man had been a rapist; he had assaulted four women by the time I had downloaded him, and I had all the hideous details stored in my mind forever. They had been buried deep, since that was not the kind of information I ever wanted to think about, but with my mind on the subject of violent men, the recollections swam to the forefront. Without even realizing what I was doing, I saw the memories flow through the connection between my mind and Fitz’s like water running through a pipe, and I nearly cried out in surprise as the rapist’s memories were implanted in his mind.
It was as if I had copied and pasted someone else’s memories into Fitz’s brain. I hesitated, wondering if I should just delete the new memories, but self-preservation came to the fore and I let them stay. This man had killed twenty people, he deserved whatever he got. At least, that’s what I tried to tell myself.
Before I could change my mind, I broke the connection, staggering as my head swam. Feeling slightly nauseous, I glanced back at Carey, who was staring at me like I had just painted myself bright pink and started clucking, and gave him a weak smile.
“You better get going. If you give me your number, I’ll call you later and tell you what happened.” I repressed the thrill of excitement I felt when he asked for my number, knowing it wasn’t because he wanted a second date. I gave it to him and he quickly programmed it into his phone.
“Thank you, thank you so much,” I said and then ran off behind the building. Behind me I could hear him talking to the police on his phone. I rounded the corner and pulled out my own cell phone and dialed my father, hoping he would answer this time. I had reached the other side of the building, down by the hardware store when I heard the sirens. Dad still wasn’t picking up and I was beginning to wonder if I would have to wait around until he got off of work
He considered me a moment and then moved with startling swiftness to stand directly in front of me. He looked at me steadily and I felt certain he could taste my fear.
“Fine, but I will want an explanation. Soon.” His voice was stern and his eyes were unfriendly for the first time. I felt something inside me crumple.
So much for making a friend.
“Of course.”
“Ok, then I’ll call the police and tell them I saw this man attacking a girl who ran off before I could see who it was. Does that work for you?” He raised his eyebrows inquiringly, but I could tell the prospect of lying was really bothering him. Well, there was nothing for it.
“Yes. Thank you. You just don’t know what you’re doing for me. Thank you.” My voice was filled with genuine gratitude and I looked at him like he was my hero. At that moment he was.
“Fine. I’m sorry, I won’t be able to take you home now. I’ll have to go down to the station to make a statement.”
He didn’t look happy about it, and I couldn’t really blame him. But if he was going to go with this story, I needed to make sure that Fitz remembered attacking someone or it wouldn’t hold water. I sighed resignedly and turned back to the prostrate form on the ground, wearily reopening the connection between our minds. I was beginning to feel like I’d be stuck in Eddie Fitz’s twisted brain forever. I followed my previous procedure, pushing past his surface thoughts and seeking the place where information is stored.
“You’re a mugger,” I thought at him, waiting to see the information form in his memory.
Nothing happened.
I tried several different variations, but it seemed I couldn’t create memories or thoughts out of nothing. I paused, frustrated, for a moment, and then certain images floated to the surface, images I had downloaded from a disgusting man I brushed up against on the subway three years ago, before I learned to cover all my bare skin. That man had been a rapist; he had assaulted four women by the time I had downloaded him, and I had all the hideous details stored in my mind forever. They had been buried deep, since that was not the kind of information I ever wanted to think about, but with my mind on the subject of violent men, the recollections swam to the forefront. Without even realizing what I was doing, I saw the memories flow through the connection between my mind and Fitz’s like water running through a pipe, and I nearly cried out in surprise as the rapist’s memories were implanted in his mind.
It was as if I had copied and pasted someone else’s memories into Fitz’s brain. I hesitated, wondering if I should just delete the new memories, but self-preservation came to the fore and I let them stay. This man had killed twenty people, he deserved whatever he got. At least, that’s what I tried to tell myself.
Before I could change my mind, I broke the connection, staggering as my head swam. Feeling slightly nauseous, I glanced back at Carey, who was staring at me like I had just painted myself bright pink and started clucking, and gave him a weak smile.
“You better get going. If you give me your number, I’ll call you later and tell you what happened.” I repressed the thrill of excitement I felt when he asked for my number, knowing it wasn’t because he wanted a second date. I gave it to him and he quickly programmed it into his phone.
“Thank you, thank you so much,” I said and then ran off behind the building. Behind me I could hear him talking to the police on his phone. I rounded the corner and pulled out my own cell phone and dialed my father, hoping he would answer this time. I had reached the other side of the building, down by the hardware store when I heard the sirens. Dad still wasn’t picking up and I was beginning to wonder if I would have to wait around until he got off of work
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