Think by Trent Kennedy Johnson

Author:Trent Kennedy Johnson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bastei Entertainment
Published: 2018-12-14T08:05:53+00:00

FIFTEEN – Isaac

BANNED AGAIN? AGAIN?! COME ON, YOU SNIVELING EXCUSE FOR A –

SIXTEEN – Pierce

ButwhatdidStanislavskisay? Right. Thatimpulseisnotyetaction. Thinkaboutthat, Pierce. Thinkaboutthenatureoftherole. Thinkaboutimpulse. Thinkaboutaction. ThinkaboutwhatStanislavskiissaying, abouttheGriboyedovplay, WoefromWit. Rereadthatchapter, Pierce. Reallynoodleonit. Controlyourimpulses. Extrapolatefromiteverythinghe –

SEVENTEEN – Think

“Alejan,” said Think, her phone to her ear, once she was walled by her plastic cubicle. She had shut off Isaac, returned to Clay, his SOC still blind and unhelpful. “Can you pick me up?”

She opened a desk drawer. She grabbed at her wintergreen gum. She was out. Damn.

“What’s Isaac done now?” asked Alejan.

“It’s Clay. The new guy,”

“Oh,” he said, but it might as well have been no.

“So you heard.” She pulled at a second drawer, one that needed a key. She had the key. She opened it, grabbed her service pistol, and placed it in her bag.

“I’m looking at the guy who got the tip,” said Alejan. “He’s across the room. He’s telling the story again to the lieutenant right now. He just keeps saying ‘damndest thing.’ He never says ‘damndest thing.’”

“Any new intel?”

“He’s covering his ass for calling the shipping center, but that’s about it.”

“Then it’s hunting season.”

“Cue the GPS,” he said.

“If only.” It had been a point of contention when the Quorumet was first introduced. Unfortunately, the initial outcry over pseudo-telepathy from the pro-privacy nutjobs made it nearly impossible to implement any other kind of surveillance on probationers. Even with something as universal as GPS. People across the country didn’t mind Google mapping their neighborhoods, but the second someone shared a measly thought, everyone became morally righteous.

“Listen, K, this might be a situation where it’s best if you stay put, keep your head in his, and let the process play out.”

“What process?”

“It’s pretty loud over here, maybe we talk later.”

“What process is there for a – a – a Quorumet patient –”

“Probationer.”

“– slash fugitive? Has there even been one before?”

“I’m just patrol, K.”

“I can’t botch this!” Think checked her phone screen, thinking she’d lost connection. She hadn’t, but the battery was at ten percent. “Shit, my charger’s at home.”

“Then we’ll talk later. Tell you what, if you do get a tip? Call me right back.”

“And we ride?”

“What do you think?”

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