I don’t have anything to hide, I just didn’t realize you could…well, read everything in my mind.
To move beyond the awkwardness, he said, Why don’t we sit? Have dinner?
She looked bemused as she trailed her hand over the white cloth. You went to a lot of trouble to impress me.
No trouble at all. My pleasure. Her openness, her sweetness, her intelligence, her beauty, and gentle curves impressed him. Earth courtship rituals were alien to him, but he very much wanted to woo this woman. Wine?
A little.
To avoid having to wrestle with the bottle, the wine had been uncorked. He poured some in their glasses.
You thought of everything. We even have a view. Sitting up high, the gazebo overlooked the sprawling lavender field. This would be a lovely location for a wedding.
There’s one booked this weekend. That’s why Chameleon constructed the gazebo for Kevanne—so she could rent it out for events.
He must be very handy!
He has become so, he boasted of his friend’s skill. If we need something, we manufacture it in our replicator, but Chameleon enjoys building things. He lifted his glass. I was informed we should toast.
She raised her goblet.
He had no idea what would be appropriate to say, so he decided to speak from his heart. May today be the first of a lifetime of moments.
They clinked glasses.
I’ll get the food. From the ice chest, he brought out and unwrapped a charcuterie board with meats, cheeses, and olives and a crusty baguette. He placed the items on the table and retrieved the grapes and strawberries. He left the chocolate tarts on ice, afraid they would melt in the heat, even though the swishing fan cooled the area somewhat.
So far, the date seemed to be going well! He’d sought advice from his friends’ mates, telling them he wanted the evening to be special. They’d given him some pointers, and he’d ordered the food from a deli.
She helped herself to the meats and cheeses. I still can’t believe you arranged all this so fast. You make me feel like Cinderella. I just hope the hover scooter doesn’t turn into a pumpkin. Her mouth quirked with humor, so he surmised she was joking, but he didn’t understand the reference.
What is Cinderella?
It’s a children’s fairy tale about a peasant girl who meets her handsome prince. She looked at him. You’re like the handsome prince and the fairy godmother rolled into one. I still can’t believe I can communicate with you this way. Do all Veritals communicate telepathically?
We can, but we don’t. Usually only with genmates.
Why not?
Because of the potential for trespass. The right to hold or share one’s thoughts as one sees fit is the most basic right an individual has. A person must have freedom over his mind, so the Code of Conduct forbids intrusion unless one has been invited—or if one is in danger. For self-defense or the defense of others, it’s permissible to enter a mind without prior approval. Only twice in my entire life have I done so.
She leaned forward. What happened?
I’ve mentioned my friend Chameleon. He helped us escape when ’Topia was under bombardment, but then we discovered he was a Xeno. It was the Xeno Consortium that destroyed our planet! We feared he might have been leading us into a trap, so I had to verify he was telling the truth. He paused. The other time, I performed a limited mind wipe to avoid detainment.
He may have obeyed the letter of the Code of Honor, but he’d come close to violating its spirit.
I don’t understand.
When we arrived on Earth, we needed money, so we created some in our replicator. We didn’t know only the government could print money. I passed a bad bill and got arrested. To get the officer to release me, I erased about ten minutes of his memory.
You can erase memories? Her eyes widened, but the emotion attached to her thoughts was fascination and not fear or censure.
Or implant them, he added because she needed to know what he and his species were capable of. He had never, ever planted a false ideation. It would be the worst violation of the Code of Honor. A person would have absolute belief in something that never happened.
It would be like false memory syndrome.
He nodded.
Wouldn’t someone realize you were messing around in their head? I feel your presence.
Because I allow you to.
She ate for a while, her expression growing thoughtful. You mentioned that a person might ask you to join with their mind. Why would someone who can speak request it?
Because they need help identifying and removing mental blockages.
Oh, like a form of therapy.
Yes. He’d been able to help alleviate Wingman’s post-traumatic stress resulting from the bombardment.
Mostly he sought to block thought waves—a constant battle since his abilities were powerful, and some individuals were strong emitters. Fortunately, most ideations were mundane and harmless, although he had intercepted lies, grievances, malfeasance, and malice.
Ignorance—his ignorance—was bliss.
Do all your people have these abilities?
To varying degrees. Some are more powerful telepaths than others.
Can you tell what I’m thinking right now?
He got a picture of a cat with orange fur and could feel her affection for the animal. As a child, you had a cat named Whiskers.
That’s amazing! She canted her head. Am I easy or hard to read?
Easy. You’re what we call a strong emitter. However, our attraction enables me to communicate with you far easier than I can with anyone else. It can be painful to do a reading if memories are locked or if we enter a person’s head without their permission. He’d often wondered if the Xenos had given Veritals mind-reading ability to stir dissension on ’Topia but then feared what would happen if they could pick their brains, so they built in a pain hazard.
Curiosity sparked in her gaze. How can memories be locked?
He hadn’t anticipated such a detailed discussion—hadn’t had to describe his mental powers before. There was no need with Veritals, and other ’Topians never asked, perhaps unwilling to discover how vulnerable they were.
A locked memory becomes inaccessible to the individual himself. To understand it, you need to know something about memory processing. There is conscious thought—for instance, what you’re thinking right now. There is short-term memory—like the conversation we had a few minutes ago, or the taste of the cheese you ate. You may or may not remember those things later.
I’ll remember our conversation. She grinned. And the cheese, too. It was delicious!
Do you remember the squirrel?
What squirrel?
The one that ran across our path as we were walking to the gazebo.
Her gaze shifted to the left. Uh, no. I guess I don’t. Is that memory locked?
More like a memory that failed to be saved because it was unimportant. Normally, when you place a thought in long-term memory, it’s accessible for later. You can recall it at will. However, some memories can’t be recalled. A trauma can cause a person to bury the experience deep in their psyche. So much pain is associated with the event that they resist any effort to dredge it to the surface.
Cassie leaned on the table, her expression rapt.
It doesn’t scare you what I am, what I can do? He’d shared way more than he’d intended.
Why should it? I have nothing to hide, and I enjoy the mental connection. It, um, feels intimate. She blushed.