The panic in Darin’s tone turned Jason’s stomach. “You’re safe here.”
“No one is safe. Not from it. From them.”
That kind of talk must be what the other interviewers had taken to be a sign of a psychological break. However, there was clarity and resolution to the statements—not the disconnected nonsense that Jason had half-expected to hear, based on Trevor’s warning.
“Who?” Jason ventured.
Darin laughed gruffly and wrapped his arms around himself, shaking his head. “It’s everything.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s everything. We’re nothing. I might not remember what it showed me, but I know that. None of you have a foking clue.”
No, I really don’t. He suspected the ‘it’ the young man referenced was the entity in the photo, but he was uncertain of the deeper meaning behind the words. Regardless, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Darin was speaking with profound insight rather than madness.
Regardless, it was time for a change in tactics. Bring it back to his mother. His grounding. Jason took a slow breath. “I know you’ve been through a lot. I promise I’m here to help.”
“What makes you think you can do anything? The Guard was utterly useless.”
“They often are,” Jason said with a slight smile. “The TSS is different. Did your mother ever talk about us?”
At the mention of his mother, Darin softened. “Only her opinion that all of you Agents are a bunch of entitled pricks.”
Jason managed to keep his expression neutral; rarely had he heard such disrespectful sentiments. Perhaps the TSS had lost some of its illustrious mystique in recent years. “Everyone’s entitled to their opinion.”
Darin shrugged. “I haven’t seen anything yet to change my mind.”
“The other Agents you’ve spoken to don’t have my level of ability.”
“Mind-reading is mind-reading, isn’t it?”
“There’s quite a bit more to it than that.” Jason hadn’t been trained in the most nuanced arts of telepathic therapy, but just as with physical-focused telekinetic feats, the general principle was that the stronger a person’s abilities, the more they could do. So, even with his comparatively basic telepathy training, he had the potential to delve into a person’s mind as well as the experts—raw ability compensating for his lack of learned skills.
However, his innate strength meant he needed to be careful when interacting with others. Merely being in the presence of someone with his Gifts was enough to overwhelm those in a compromised state. He’d experienced that firsthand during the Awakening of his own abilities, being near his father and the other Primus Elites. They’d needed to keep shields around themselves to avoid inadvertently harming him until he learned how to guard himself; the enhanced environmental sensitivity made those with Gifts so powerful, but it was also enough to break someone’s mind if they didn’t know how to filter the inputs. Though Darin didn’t have the same sensitivity as someone newly Awakened, his volatile emotional state made him vulnerable in other ways.
“Are you willing to talk?” Jason asked. Regardless of Darin’s answer, he’d need to use telepathy to delve deeper. Nonetheless, having a conversation about the topic at hand would speed the process along.
Darin scoffed. “Do I have a choice?”
“You’re not under arrest, so yes, of course.”
Darin took a few seconds to respond. “You’re not the first guy they sent in, which means either you’re higher up, or they’re hoping that someone close to my age will soften me up. If it’s the latter, should have thought to send a pretty girl.”
“Would that help?” Jason tilted his head, amused by the suggestion but not letting it show.
Darin shrugged. “I mean, it never hurts. I’ve been stuck on a ship for a long time.”
“I’m afraid I’m not in a position to bring in anyone else right now, but I’d like to get you back to your life as soon as possible.”
“Fine. Let’s get on with it.”
Jason grabbed the chair from the small desk in the corner and sat across from Darin. He began initiating a loose telepathic link, getting a feel for how much resistance he might meet.
Typically, when entering someone’s mind, a telepath would encounter a layer of outward thoughts, usually characterized as one’s internal voice—the consciously controlled projection. These outward-facing thoughts could be faked, quite convincingly if the person was well-trained. Truth was found in the inner mind, skimming subconscious thoughts and memories. In most cases, TSS Agents only went as deep as this second layer in order to verify information. However, some occasions required an intensive examination of the inner mind, going into the subject’s long-term memory; the information garnered at that level was sometimes more than a person knew themselves, where forgotten details were buried or where fragments remained if others had tried to erase a memory.
Jason suspected that he’d been sent on the mission to verify that Darin’s memories were genuine. It was unclear what someone might have to gain from faking an alien attack, but stranger things had happened.
He leaned forward in his chair and looked Darin in his eyes. “What was your role on the ship?”
“Pilot and labor. My mom is—was—the captain. I was supposed to take over the Andvari from her, keep up with the salvage jobs after she retired.”
Good, keep it on his mother. Jason took the opening. “Working with family can be a double-edged sword. Did you get along well?”
“Yeah. I mean, we had our moments sometimes. But, things were good. What does that have to do with anything?” The bite was back in his tone.
“I ask because you were awfully far out for a salvage operation. Was that a mutual decision?”
Darin’s face darkened. “You think it’s our foking fault we got our crew killed?”
“That’s not what I said or meant.” His heart was heavy for
