Touched by an Alien

becomes not quite as automatic as breathing but about as automatic as blocking a punch if you’ve trained in a fighting form long enough.”
    “Okay. Martini mentioned drugs.”
    “Yeah. They shoot a variety of drugs into the empaths. None of them are harmful to their metabolisms—it’s not like they’re addicts. The drugs enhance the blocks and blocking ability and strengthen their empathic synapses.”
    “How often do they wear off?”
    “Depends on the empath and what he’s doing. The more activity, physical and emotional in particular, or the more onslaught of emotions hitting the empath, the sooner they burn out.”
    “So, getting into a fight with your mother would burn you out?”
    “Depends on the fight. But a fight like we just had with Mephistopheles, where people you care about are in danger and you’re also physically fighting? That can wear you down fast.”
    “Is that why he’s sleeping?”
    “Probably. And he’s learned to put what they call sleep blocks up automatically. From what Paul’s told me, Jeff can and does sleep like a rock, unless someone nearby is in real danger, because their emotions have to be off the charts and they have to be the negative ones—fear, hatred, and the like—or he’s trained to ignore them.”
    “So you and Paul can be romantic next door and Martini’s not going to know?”
    Reader laughed. “He might know, but he’s not going to wake up and rate our performances. He’ll ignore it, because that’s part of what the blocks do—help them ignore all the emotions around them. Like Daredevil’s chamber but without the being locked away and submerged in water parts.”
    I considered this as we sat there, not moving much, if at all. “So, when did the strongest empath on the planet’s talent surface?”
    Reader cleared his throat. “Birth.”
    “Um, you’re kidding, right?”
    “No, I’m not. Jeff’s parents aren’t empathic, they aren’t talented in any way. So from what I’ve gotten, it was hard on them.”
    “Had to have been harder on him.”
    “Yeah. Jeff had to be in isolation a lot as a child. And as for what that’s like, you’ll have to ask him—I’ve never spent any time in or around the isolation chambers.”
    “Why not?”
    “They creep me out. They make Daredevil’s chamber look like a tanning bed. But Jeff insists they’re not that bad. Christopher won’t give me his opinion about them, though.”
    “Does he go into isolation?” And could we put him there right away?
    “No, not that I’ve ever heard of.” He looked to his right. “But as a child, Christopher wasn’t all that much better off.”
    “He’s an empath?” I found that hard to believe.
    “No, different talent. But his surfaced at birth, too. It’s why they’re a team—no one else can keep up with them, in that sense.”
    “And yet the image of me killing a ‘terrorist’ made the international news. You know, there’s a part of me that’s really unimpressed.”
    Reader laughed again. “They’re only human, if you know what I mean. Everyone makes mistakes, girlfriend, even you.”
    “Point out what mistakes I’ve made today, other than agreeing to get into the limo in front of the courthouse.”
    “Too busy driving to think about it.” Reader looked over his shoulder and flashed the cover-boy grin. “But give me a little time and I’m sure I can come up with something.”
    “I’ll bet.” I closed my eyes and tried to rest. Couldn’t. Opened my eyes. “What happens when they run down? The empaths, I mean.”
    “Again, it depends on the empath. Usually they just need to sleep. If they’re not doing well, they need to sleep in isolation. They do almost a system flush, to clear out toxins that build up from the exposure to negative emotions. Then they put the good stuff back in. I don’t really know much more about it.”
    “Because you haven’t asked?”
    “Because no one wants to talk about it. A-C talents seem physically connected as much as mentally, at least to me. It’s hard to get a straight answer.”
    “They don’t want us knowing their weaknesses.”
    “Can you blame them?”
    I thought about it. “Honestly? No. So what happens to Martini when he gets drained?” Reader was quiet. “Ah, James? Are we being followed or something?”
    “No.”
    “Then why are you suddenly Mr. Silent Night?”
    He sighed. “The stronger the empathic talent, the longer they can last, so the more they can push themselves.” He