Mindwalker by Steiger AJ

Author:Steiger, AJ [Steiger, AJ]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: EBC Converted
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

I find Steven standing on my front lawn, hands in his pockets,

staring into space. The sun sinks toward the western horizon,

orange light bleeding between the clouds and reflecting in the

windows of the houses around us.

He turns to face me, his expression grim. “What the hell is

going on? Did I hallucinate all that?”

I

swallow,

mouth

dry,

and

collect

my

thoughts.

Automatically, I slip into my neutral Mindwalker voice.

“Even if the memory itself was real, that doesn’t mean it’s

accurate in every detail. Memories change over time. The raw

sensory impressions start to decay almost immediately, and

the brain patches up the holes, so eventually, what you have is

less like a photograph and more like a painting of a

photograph. A blend of imagination and reality.”

“So my brain gave him your eyes.”

Which is disturbing in its own right. Why did his

subconscious project me into that role—as one of his

tormentors?

In a nearby tree, a crow caws once.

His eyes are distant, unfocused. “Tell me something, Doc. If

our memories can’t be trusted, then what can?”

248

I hesitate. “Science? Things that can be validated with hard

evidence?”

“Yeah, well, we’re a little short on evidence.” His hands are

shaking. He shuts his eyes and presses the heels of his hands

against his lids. Fumbling, he fishes two more pills from his

pocket and swallows them. How many of those does he take

in a day?

I move a small, cautious step closer. “You trust me, don’t you?”

He doesn’t answer.

“Steven?”

“Nothing personal, Doc.” He smiles tightly. “I don’t trust

anyone.”

The words sting more than they should. “Even after I saved

your life?” The question comes out sounding somehow

arrogant.

“I’m grateful for that. Really. But I still don’t understand why

you did it.”

“Because …” Because you’re my client. Because you’re my

friend. Because the thought of losing you makes me so scared,

I can’t breathe. “I don’t want anyone to die if I can prevent it,” I finish limply.

“So you run around hoping to save every sad sack who tries

to off himself? Must get pretty tiring.”

249

My nails dig into my palms. “What do you want me to say?”

“Nothing.”

I breathe in, struggling for patience. “I swear, I just want to

help you.”

He grips his own arms, fingers digging into his flesh. “That’s

what scares me.” He laughs, a bitter bark. “Every guy in a

white coat who’s ever strapped me into that fucking

Conditioning machine, every nurse who’s ever stuck a needle

in my arm to sedate me because I was getting

‘agitated’—they all just wanted to help. Because I’m too sick

and screwed up to make my own decisions, they have to force

a cure down my throat, like I’m some bratty little kid who

doesn’t want to take his cough syrup. And you’re not like

them—I know that—but still, you work for the system. You

have to follow its rules.” His lips twist in something that’s

half smile, half agonized grimace. “So, what happens if you

have another conscience attack and decide that ‘helping’ me

means turning me over to IFEN?”

I flinch.

I want to deny that it would ever happen, but not long ago, I

came close to doing just that—simply because I no longer

saw myself as qualified to treat him. What would have

happened to Steven if I’d succumbed to self-doubt? “Listen,”

I say quietly.

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