Thoughts are Like Books Ch. 03

She walked closer and put her arm around my waist and gave me a little squeeze, leaning her rather lithe body against mine in a comforting gesture. "But you'll learn to control it, then you'll only kill the ones you mean to."

Pushing her away I stared at her horrified, "I'm not going to kill anyone! Just leave me alone." I ran out of the church and hopped on the first bus I saw, making sure Sylvia hadn't followed me this time. I even bailed on that bus at the next stop and switched buses, riding to god knows where.

While I had used my power to my advantage, I hadn't really thought through the implications. Could I kill someone with thoughts? My god, who am I? A kind of super hero? Or a god? More likely a villain.

Sylvia basically turned the librarian and the priest into slaves, right? And I had just done the same with the American couple. I mean, it's not like they had a choice even if they did enjoy it. Or maybe even secretly wanted it? Was that what I had done to Jenna and Lorelei?

The image of Jenna and Lorelai dressed as Roman slave girls bound to a wall flashed through my mind. I don't know, maybe secretly that's what I wanted. Maybe that's what all men want. But truthfully I didn't think so. I liked Lorelai because of who she was, not because she was an attractive doll I could control.

Even Jenna, as much as I had taken advantage of her, it was still her, reaching into her deep desires and letting her set the pace and allow them to manifest. I didn't force her to like me. I didn't make her come to my apartment and wait for me in my bed. She was her own person. If I manipulated her, it was only by knowing her better than anyone else ever had.

When I looked up the bus was pulling into Victoria station, so I exited and decided to get a cup of coffee inside the station's coffee shop. As usual it was fairly crowded, but I found a seat at a corner table and sipped my cappuccino.. I was deep in my own thoughts for a change. I could hear other people, of course, but it was like the typical snippets of overheard background conversation, though slightly more embarrassing.

In general thoughts seemed to vacillate between three different categories. People worried about getting where they were going (it is a train station after all). People excited to be going where they were going. And people thinking about sex. Sometimes these categories overlapped in funny ways, like the middle aged man I caught worrying about having sex after a several year drought. He was clearly charged up, eager, ogling every woman in the place, but for that reason he was worried he wouldn't be able to last. I reached into his memories and found that he had met a woman online and after months of sexual chats they had finally decided to meet face to face. He clearly expected they'd say a quick hello and rush off to bed. Who knows? Maybe they would. I can read minds, not see the future.

I can read minds. That reality was still sinking in. So too was the knowledge that if Sylvia was right I could do so much more. Could I? Every time the memories of the library and the church came back to me I was sickened, but I was also tempted to see exactly what I might be capable of.

I couldn't do what Sylvia had done. Or rather, I didn't know if I could, and it seemed that it would potentially ruin someone's life to put them on sexual display in the middle of a train station coffee shop if I couldn't guarantee blocking it from everyone's mind. And I really wasn't sure how I controlled the American couple. I just kind of glided through it. No, I needed something simpler.

I saw a young man, about my age, dressed in designer clothes. Shoes and sunglasses and haircut all spoke of someone who came from money and was now using it to travel around Europe. When I reached into his mind, sure enough, I saw memories of a spoiled upbringing, an expensive car, nice house in the south of France.

I wondered if I could get even more specific. I focused hard on what I wanted to know, turned through his memories like pages in a book until I found what I was looking for. A fresh memory, from his time in line, of reaching into his wallet. From the look of it he had several hundred pounds in cash. Perfect.

I tried to make him give a hundred pounds to older man outside the coffee shop panhandling. I thought very specifically about him getting up, moving to the door, reaching into his wallet, and giving the man a hundred pounds. He didn't budge. Didn't even look up from his phone. It was the kebab shop all over again.

Now look, when compared to making someone have sex with a stranger in the middle of a public library, having someone give some money to a panhandler shouldn't be that tough. I was doing something wrong.

I considered how I had got Jenna and Lorelai and the librarian to do the things I wanted them to do. As I had just reflected, I hadn't forced them to do anything. I hadn't implanted ideas in their minds. Instead, I took what they wanted deep within their psyche and brought it to the fore, fanned the flame, made them focus on the hidden desire until it became irresistible.

I tried again with my traveling Euro-riche student. Only this time I dug around his mind and found his memory of the panhandler asking for change. I brought that to the front of his thoughts along with his own, albeit meager, desire to be charitable.

I fanned these memories side by side and began to see him fidget as he played with his phone. He started glancing toward the door, then staring at it and the panhandler beyond. Finally he got up, walked to the panhandler and gave him the loose change in his pocket.

Okay. Not quite what I had set out to have happen, but still a move in the right direction. It seems controlling people isn't so much about controlling them as it is making their own desires become irresistible. But could I do better? Could I actually get him to give more than pocket change?

I didn't have a chance to find out as he checked his watch and gathered his things on his way to catch a train. While I hadn't exactly accomplished what I set out for, I admit to feeling more than a little pride in how quickly I seemed to be getting the hang of my new powers.

I glanced around the room as I sipped my coffee. I felt a passing discomfort as a woman walked past the entrance to the coffee shop trying her best to comfort a screaming baby. Earache, the child had an earache and I felt it as I swallowed. Suddenly I was reminded of why I went to the library in the first place: the experience of being overwhelmed by the thoughts and feelings of others.

The woman with the child kept walking away and the earache passed, but I saw this as a golden opportunity to test my ability to block thoughts and feelings, to control my own mind. I left the coffee shop and followed her at a distance.

Luckily she was too consumed with caring for her child and watching the train schedule to pay much attention to me, otherwise she may have felt I was stalking her. In a way, I suppose I was, despite my lack of malicious intent.

As I caught up with her and her child the earache returned, and now that I was closer than before it hurt worse than it had. Not just when I swallowed but a constant dull pained that sharpened when I tried to swallow. Poor kid.

It was becoming obvious to me that the feelings that overwhelmed me from others were ones that were too strong for the person experiencing them to control. I mean, everyone I walked by no doubt had feelings of pain, sadness, joy, sexual desire, etc. But I wasn't constantly being thrown about by sudden emotional experiences. But this kid was in a lot of pain, so much that it was radiating out like radio signal that only people attuned like me could pick up.

I calmed my breath and focused on an image of a brick wall being built between myself and the child. I tried to imagine the pain coming from the child as a strong wind that I needed shelter from. As I calmed myself, and imagined the wall, the pain subsided. Not completely, but enough for me to control it, to be able to concentrate my thoughts elsewhere. I suspected that blocking such thoughts and feelings was a skill that I could develop over time.

I took a deep breath and approached the young mother. "Excuse me, miss."

She looked at me as she cradled her still crying infant. Her look was far off, her own emotions drained by juggling travel and a screaming infant.

"I'm sorry, Miss," I was passing through the station and heard your child," I tried my best to be reassuring, "I'm a junior doctor, do you mind if I have a quick look?"

It was a lie, of course, and she briefly looked me up and down suspiciously, but I didn't need mind reading to know she would accept my offer. She was at the end of her rope and any chance of relief was desirable.

I did my best impersonation of a doctor, looking in the child's mouth, feeling around the child's neck. Then turning to her I said, "Without my equipment I can't say for sure, but I have enough experience to confidently say your child has an ear infection. There's a chemist across the station, go there and ask for some drops. It won't cure it, but it might help the pain a little. You can get a proper check up when you get where you're going."

She nodded mutely and thanked me for my time before making her way to the pharmacy. It felt pretty good helping people and showed me that my new found powers could be of some positive use after all. Maybe I could become a real physician. It would have to be some benefit to know what exactly ailing patients were feeling.

I made my way back home growing reasonably more confident in my abilities, but also a bit nervous about what the evening would hold. I looked at the card with the address for the party that Sylvia had given me. I was more than a bit interested to meet a community of mind readers, but were they dangerous? What Sylvia had done to the librarian and vicar had me suspicious of their intentions toward me. And then there was that comment about killing people. Had Sylvia killed anyone?

And then of course I had to consider Lorelei. I wasn't particularly ready to reveal my powers to her, but I suspected that if I brought her to the party then the eccentricities of the group would become apparent soon enough. I wasn't interested in calling off our date either. I began to wonder if Sylvia could teach me how to control Lorelei's perceptions and memories.

My God! What was I thinking? It was one thing to read her thoughts and give her exactly what she wanted sexually and emotionally. It seemed a completely different level to control her memories, that was tampering with who she is, turning her more slave than potential girlfriend. I shook such thoughts from my mind as I made my way to Lorelei's flat.

I was wearing a collared shirt with a coat and a pair of nice trousers when she buzzed me in. Smart casual seemed the way to go for the party since I had no real idea of what to expect. Of course Lorelei had no idea what we were doing, she just knew I was coming over to take her out, so when I opened the door she wore a light sweater with a pair of jeans and immediately was self-conscious.

"Hi," she said quietly as I leaned down and kissed her cheek. "Should I change?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure," I began. "I was invited to... my boss's party tonight, and I feel I have to make an appearance. You're welcome to come, but you may find it a bit much for a first proper date."

Honestly I couldn't tell if it was her or I whose memory ironically flashed back to her on her knees in front of me at the party.

She looked disappointed, "Oh, well, if you don't want me to come, I'd understand."

"No," I stammered a little over-eagerly, "I mean, you might be bored. I don't want to drag you around some place you'd rather not be."

I could hear her thoughts, of course, she was wavering between her fear of appearing too eager and too aloof. She really just wanted to know what I wanted as she was happy to spend some time with me. No one says such a thing out loud on a first date, though.

"Why don't you go change," I offered helping to make her decision, "if you're miserable you just tell me and we'll ditch. Sound good?"

She smiled brightly relieved of the decision, "just give me a minute."

Milling about her flat, I looked at holiday pictures and various effects. I tried to stay out of her thoughts, but I could feel her nerves, her excitement, her need to look sexy and beautiful. She wanted me to be proud to show her off to my "boss."

I had nerves of my own, but most of it centered around what a party thrown for the mind reading community might look like, and what effect this might have on Lorelei and my desire to get to know her better. I felt bad lying to her, but I couldn't very well tell her the truth. It seemed dangerous to let her know that the world is full of mind readers and I was one of them. Dangerous to me, of course, but dangerous to her even more so. That seems like the kind of secret they don't let you share, whoever "they" are.

Returning to the room as my back was turned to the doorway, Lorelai asked, "Is this appropriate?"

I turned toward her to see her shyly biting her lower lip, and it was all I could do to keep her nerves and self doubt from overtaking me as strong as it was. But when I saw her my own emotions took over and left me silent and shy myself.

Her red dress flared out at her hips and stopped at her knees, legs encased in black tights which made the red pop even more. Dark hair hanging in a mop of chin length curls, framing her fair face, done up with light makeup and bright red lipstick. Inspired perhaps by my slack jawed appreciation of her look, she let out a small laugh and twirled coquettishly.

One thing I've learned through my ability is that at a basic level we all have an intuitive connection to one another. When one gives subtle signs and flirtations they get picked up by the other who sends them back with increased intensity, and that if we're lucky, ends in real connection. My ability was more than this, of course, but at its heart, my ability simply took this feedback loop and amplified it.

Because of this, it was a miracle Lorelai and I ever left her apartment at all. All I really wanted to do was pull her to me and touch every inch of her, but I resisted this temptation in favor of a more common place progression of awkward sexual tension as we struggled to find deeper connection between us.

Damn, it was hard though.

"You are absolutely stunning," I finally managed and I closed the gap between us, kissing her softly as I pulled her into me. Things heated between us until I forced myself to pull away, and when I did, she let out an audible sigh of disapproval.

"I really need to go to this party..." I apologized near breathless from out make out session. She smiled faintly and left me to redo her make up and hair which our kissing had mussed. I called a cab not sure what the night would hold for either of us.