Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 138217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Breath shallow from the lingering effects of the stun, Theo decided to gather her energy and bide her time—and keep Keja’s attention off Yakov. She didn’t know why her aunt had spared his life, but she didn’t want to remind Keja of the biggest threat in the room, bound or not.
“So,” Keja murmured after taking a seat, “the old man didn’t tell you.”
Theo shook her head. “I have blurred memories from eight and a half to around sixteen. Distant, you could say. As if they’re not quite mine.”
“Interesting. I always wondered about the side effects of a successful procedure.” Keja put one foot on the knee of her other leg, resting her weapon on her thigh, finger on the trigger.
“You said puppets. He was attempting mind control?” Such experiments had been run in shadowy corners of the PsyNet as long as Psy had existed.
“He always said that was a useless endeavor that demanded too many resources. He called his goal ‘Enforced Malleability.’ ” Keja’s smile turned cruel, her eyes filling with emotion for the first time. “Mind control dressed up in pretty clothes if you ask me. A sop to his ego. Marshall Hyde would never be so common as to try the same stupid thing as countless others over the centuries.”
Theo tried not to glance at Yakov, look for any hint of movement, of waking. She couldn’t risk giving him away if he did begin to come out of the stun.
“He and his pet scientist came up with the idea of rehabilitating chosen people in a subtle way. Janine and Santo are two examples of their first successes. Enough mind left for thought, but no ability to think on their own.”
Keja sighed. “Father realized too late that the latter wouldn’t work. His puppets were akin to infants, needing constant care. Hardly useful as any type of operative.”
Theo’s skin flushed hot, then cold, but she didn’t interrupt, not wanting Keja to stop talking. Both to give Yakov more time to wake, and because she had to know the truth, no matter how twisted and brutal it turned out to be.
“The revised aim,” Keja said with a tap of the weapon against her thigh, “was to make a marionette who could think for herself . . . but whose brain was plastic enough to mold to obey his commands. An intelligent slave—but crucially, one who thought she had free will, so would never rebel. Why should she? She wasn’t being forced to do anything, after all.”
The sick feeling in Theo’s stomach spread through her veins, into her bones, until she couldn’t contain the violence of it. “He did that to me. He took away Theo and put a doll in my place!”
One of the old books on the shelf beside them flew off to bang onto the opposite wall.
Keja flinched, but didn’t threaten Theo with the weapon. Instead, she tilted her head to one side, and for the first time, her gaze was . . . normal. No flatness. No cold rage. Just curiosity, simple and explicable.
“What did you think was occurring?” she asked. “I’ve always wondered. With me, it was a black haze for years. I didn’t even know why they’d kept me alive until after I murdered Dr. Leslie and dug through her files. Turns out I was considered a level one success despite my ‘diminished mental state.’ ” Keja hooked the fingers of her free hand by her face to create air quotes. “Much more functional than Janine or Santo—but with an unfortunate need for an extreme level of instruction.”
Theo didn’t allow herself to get stuck on the casual mention of murder. Especially of a woman who’d gone along with the mutilation of minors. Because Keja was right; Theo didn’t feel sorry for the staff. “I don’t have any clear memories of the first years, but later, I thought I’d made the choice to please Grandfather in order to gain his approval.” She met her aunt’s eyes and bared her soul. “I’m haunted by that, Aunt Keja, haunted by the idea of being a willing accomplice to evil.”
A sudden piercing tenderness on the other woman’s face. “Well, young Theo, I can put your mind to rest on that point. Per Dr. Leslie’s files you were a near-total success—you had both the malleability and the intelligence required of a subject. As a test after you’d healed, your grandfather told you multiple times that you wanted to use a hot poker to burn a small bit of your skin to see how it would feel.”
Theo looked down at her arm, seeing through the jacket and her sweater to the small scar below her inner elbow that had always been a mystery. When she glanced up, Keja was nodding.
“You did it one day,” her aunt said, “and when asked why, you said it was because you’d wanted to. No torture, no intensive mental control; Grandfather would just tell you things until you believed them. And you did. You thought every single act he manipulated you to do was your own idea.”