18th February
10:09 GMT -6
"How did they die?"
Daniel Brown's grave is neatly kept, and the flowers in the stand next to the headstone are in good condition. At fifteen, he was one of the younger suicides.
"Shotgun blast to the chest.
"
"Shotgun?" Garth looks away from the grave and turns his attention to me, his hands about a metre apart. "Aren't shotguns about this long?"
"About that, yes. The pathologist wasn't sure how he pulled it off. Technically, the cause of death was either shock, septic shock or blood loss, but… It's not a way many people would choose to die. It would have been painful and not particularly fast. That's why I mentioned the 'slow and painful' option earlier.
"
"Are the.. others like that?"
"There's no particular pattern. Drug overdoses, extreme risk-taking and self harm are all common, but over the total number unusual forms like this are more common than the statistical average.
"
I'm not seeing any black, but then again… I'm not sure that I would. My vision is
empathic after all; this corpse isn't feeling anything.
Hm.
"Linda, was this graveyard properly sanctified?
"
"That is not for me to determine." She shrugs. "People earnestly pray here with sufficient frequency that it is hallowed enough for most purposes."
Running out of covert ideas.
"Right, the interstate turnoff it is! It's a bit of a hike-
" I turn away from the grave.
"-but perhaps we-
"
There's a boy… Probably in his early teens, standing and watching us from just inside the graveyard. He's slightly overweight, and I feel a pang of sympathy at the sight of the acne covering his face. He's wearing thick-rimmed glasses and his hair is an untidy black mop.
"-can take a bus or something.
"
And then I feel it, a weak mental probe. It's out of character for a tourist to be able to block things like that, but I
really can't take the risk of something like that worming its way into my mind.
Ring, stop putting everything into Greek.
Compliance.
"Good morning!
" I smile politely and raise my right hand in greeting.
"I'm trying to look at your thoughts, but I can't see them."
At least he's honest about it.
"I know how to keep telepaths out. Have you heard of a man named Henry King Junior?
"
He just sort of stands there, arms held limply at his sides.
Oh. Right.
"Did you.. know Daniel?
"
"He was in some of my classes. I knew him, but he didn't know me."
O.. kay…
I open my empathic vision a little, but I'm not really seeing anything particularly unusual. The lack of fear is interesting, but I suppose that if he's known what everyone around him was thinking and could project into them then he wouldn't have much reason to fear other people. Of course,
legally that's pretty questionable, but mind reading isn't illegal in most states and mental suggestion… Isn't inherently illegal in most places either. In Oregon it would bump up the severity of an offence but wouldn't be a crime itself unless he actually started puppetting people.
"Do you know why he did this?
"
"He was ugly."
Ah… The pictures I saw looked fairly normal to me. But I suppose that beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
"Everyone's ugly on the inside. Sometimes they see it."
And of course the problem with a telepath in a non-telepathic species is that, A, there's no one around who can recognise what they're doing and B, there probably aren't any people around who can stop them because you don't have to be a very powerful telepath to ruin most people's days.
Ring?
Nigel Patterson, 15. Good scholastic record. No criminal record.
Of course, if he's
telepathic, getting answers to test questions wouldn't be all that hard.
"How do you mean, 'ugly'?
"
"They all have things that make them afraid or ashamed. They force them way down inside but they spend so much effort and time pretending that they're not there that things get all muddled. Muddied."
Garth glances at me, his tattoos on low-glow. I give my head a small shake and make a 'stop' gesture with my right hand.
"I see. I'm not like that.
"
"I can't see your ugliness because you're keeping me out. But it's there, under the shield."
"No, I have this shield because I've fought telepaths and telepathic weapons before. A little over a year ago I was forced to take a good long look at my own ugliness.
" I shrug.
"It's not an issue any more.
"
Nigel..
shudders, his jowls wobbling in a way I find quite disconcerting.
"Show me."
Okay. Turning off my shields around a telepath. I have practised regaining control in this sort of situation but it's not particularly
easy. On the other hand, this boy isn't exactly
M'gann, is he? Quick scan of the area for telepathic weapons…
And I
relax my mind and let my conscious be free.
I feel the probe and deliberately
don't stop it, letting the.. mildly uncomfortable presence touch my thoughts. With an experienced telepath there are ways to encourage them to look in particular places, but… Yes, he isn't examining in a structured way. I feel momentary flashes of feeling and memory as he prods at something he's probably the only person in the state to be able to perceive. I'll need to talk to his parents about getting him some tuition.
And now he's
shaking all over.
"Ah, are you alright?
"
"It's beau-beau-beautiful."
He gently removes his glasses from his face with his right hand and uses his left to wipe the tears from his eyes. Then his legs give out and he collapses onto his bottom.
I can still feel him on the edge of my mind, just… Feeling me. It's just about the least invasive thing he could do, and I'm… Not sure if I should let him keep doing it or cut him off.
"Nigel, we're a bit busy. Are you going to be alright? Do you want us to phone someone for you?
"
"No. I'm fine. Just leave."
I'm unsure, but… I glance at Garth and Linda but get a pair of shrugs.
I restore my resting shields and lead the way out of the graveyard.