The Lasaran (Aldebarian Alliance #1) - Dianne Duvall Page 0,7

she applied and told her she’d been selected to participate in the study. She had begun the following week. And Brad had been chosen to be her caseworker or the research assistant she worked with. “They’ve added more numbers to the cards. More shapes and colors, too. And instead of the four suits—hearts, diamonds, clubs, and spades—they’re using cards taken from a standard deck to see if I can accurately identify both the suit and the number.”

“How’s that going?”

She shrugged. “Okay, I guess. They haven’t kicked me out.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You getting any lotto number premonitions yet?”

She laughed. “No. But I did actually have some money left over in my bank account when I finished paying last month’s bills, so I’m going to take it as a win.”

“Can’t argue with that. Have they mentioned adding any dietary changes or chemical enhancements to your daily routine?”

“Yes. They asked me to start taking a multivitamin, one with a lot of vitamin B and folate.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, brow furrowing. “Did they supply it?”

“They offered to, but I declined and said I’d buy my own.”

“Good. They seem like they’re on the up-and-up, but I’m paranoid enough to worry they might’ve tried to dose you with something they thought might… I don’t know… enhance your psychic gifts.”

“I worried about the same thing.”

He shook his head with a smile. “The world we live in, right?”

“Right. They did ask if I would consider letting them give me a PET scan while Brad asks me questions.”

“Brad is the research assistant you’ve been working with?”

“Yeah.”

“They must want to see what lights up when you employ your gift.”

She laughed. “It’s so weird that they think I’m really psychic.”

“Hey, maybe you are.” Dr. Aguera pressed an index finger to his temple, lifted his chin, and intoned, “I’m thinking of a number between one and a million. What number is it?”

“Easy—742,361,” she promptly replied with a grin.

His eyes widened. His hand fell to his side as he stared at her in shock.

Lisa quickly lost her smile. “What?” She gaped. “Are you saying I got it right?” she asked in astonishment.

Relaxing, he grinned. “No. I just wanted to see your reaction.”

They laughed.

“If they’d said they wanted to do an fMRI, I wouldn’t see anything wrong with it. But I’d avoid the PET scan or any others that involve exposure to radiation. The damage caused by radiation is cumulative, so you only want to get those if you have to for medical purposes.”

“Okay. Thanks again, Dr. Aguera. I never would’ve had this opportunity if it weren’t for you.”

He smiled. “I’m glad it turned out well for you. Have a great summer.”

“You, too.”

Fifteen minutes later, Lisa strolled into the ACRI’s lobby and found it empty.

“Hi, Lisa,” the woman seated behind the desk said with a smile.

“Hi, Carol.”

“I’ll let Brad know you’re here.”

“Thank you.”

Lisa had barely seated herself when the door on the far side of the room opened and Brad greeted her with a smile. “Hi, Lisa. You can come on back.”

Once she joined him, Brad led her past the empty screening rooms and turned down another hallway that led deeper into the basement.

“How’d your Bio II final go?” he asked.

“Well, I think.”

“Just out of curiosity, does your gift ever come into play when you take exams, maybe help you guess correctly if you don’t know the answer?” He and the other researchers truly believed she had a psychic gift.

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never really thought about it.”

“Do you always get As?”

“Yes. But I attribute that more to taking good notes and studying my butt off than to anything else.”

He opened a door and ushered her inside.

It was the same room they’d been using since she’d been selected. Larger than the first, this one held a longer table with more comfortable chairs. Upper and lower cabinets painted steel gray lined two walls. A third wall—the one opposite the door—boasted a large framed mirror. Lisa glanced at it, wondering anew if perhaps it was a two-way mirror behind which faces peered at her.

Creepy. She hoped not.

Brad crossed to a minifridge beneath one cabinet and retrieved two bottles of water.

Lisa settled herself at the table as he took the chair across from her.

Once more, a wooden slat divided the table in two and kept Lisa from seeing the surface on the other side. But this time a laptop graced it rather than a clipboard and Brad typed in her responses instead of scribbling them down.

Reaching across the divider, he handed

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