“What is your business here Captain?”
Icy feelers delved into Zentran’s mind probing for heightened activity. Telltale semi transparent traces erupted in his consciousness confirming the intrusion
The synthetic undercover operative’s eyes didn’t blink, its voice was slow and deliberate. It looked authentic. The Council's newly produced pseudo agents were virtually indistinguishable from real people. Their purpose to apprehend paranormal individuals, it seemed, had become more vigilant during Zentran's absence.
He'd let his guard down and the android's perception had taken him by surprise. Communicating through the mental realm so close to
Council headquarters had been self indulgent. How was it that this insentient machine could monitor his psyche? The trespass had not been into his brain,
but intruded directly into his mind, into his thoughts beyond any material operation. It appeared that the Council had somehow developed ciruitry to probe
into the area where ideas originate - the spiritual realm.
“Freighter docked – must report,” Zentran answered dysfunctionally for the Look-alike's benefit.
More pin prick explosions invaded his inner being. On the back flow of the disturbance Zentran discerned a strange sence of dispair purveying the Lookalike, a deeply buried despair. Its relentless determination however, focused its entire processing capability to root out the illegal force that had triggered its sensors.
Through the return flow of the synthetic operative's mental link, an intention to grab hold of him became apparent. Realistic hands rose in confirmation. a trace of elevated activity had been found, or had it? Zentran offered no resistance to the intent. Not responding to the aggression would keep his mental activity to a minimum and