Humans tended to be suspicious of telepaths, and Js in particular, afraid the Psy would steal their secrets. The truth was, Sophia already had too many pieces of other people’s lives in her head. She didn’t want any more—especially the kinds of memories she was invariably asked to retrieve. In all her years of service, she’d found only four innocents. “I have it,” she said to the A.D.A.

Asking the prisoner and his attorney to wait, he walked her to the waiting area outside the warden’s office. “Could you project the memories to me?”

Nodding, she did as asked. This little telepathic quirk was what turned a Tp into a J. Most telepaths could transmit words and/or isolated visuals, but Js could not only retract, but transmit the entire memory in a continuous stream. This A.D.A. was human, his shields no barrier. That could have been a handicap in other circumstances—however, given that this case had no associated cost or benefit to the Council, he was safe from Psy coercion.

“Thank you,” he said after she completed the projection. “That does put a different spin on things, doesn’t it?”

She didn’t answer, aware he wasn’t talking to her. And even if he had been, she would’ve made no response. She tried not to “see” the memories anymore. It was a futile effort, but sometimes, she could distance herself a fraction.

The A.D.A. released a breath. “I’d like to go back and chat with the witness and his attorney. The jet-chopper will be arriving to take you back to the mainland soon.”

“Please go ahead.” She saw him looking around for the warden. “This location is tightly guarded. I’ll be safe on my own.”

“You sure?” A concerned look.

“I spend a lot of time in prisons.”

“I guess you must at that. Alright, you’ve got my secretary’s number. Give her a buzz if the chopper doesn’t arrive in the next ten minutes.”