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"We do. I mean - not just - I don't think it's just a chemistry thing, you're genuinely the sort of person I seem to work well with."

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"I wonder how the necklace knows."

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"I have no idea. How does any of this magic work, really?"

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"I'd dearly love to know. The necklace seems like it'd have to involve mind-reading, although at least there's not a person supervising it..."

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"I suppose. Bleh, now I want to encase it in concrete and throw it into the ocean. But it's useful, so I shouldn't."

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"I'd rather be necklaced than mind-read. I'm just - not sure enough that I'm in danger of being mindread to come and demand that you let me touch it right now."

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"Yeah," he agrees. "Let me know if you're ever worried enough for me to bring it to you. I'm never going to pressure you into it. For obvious reasons."

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"I'm thoroughly reassured on that point."

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"Good, I - probably sound broken, don't I? Repeating myself over and over again."

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"Just a little."

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"I'll try to stop, but I think it's just in my nature to be absolutely sure, twice, that you are not having your opinions and desires ignored or forced aside in this sort of situation."

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"Heh. Good."

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"Anyway, let me know when there's people for me to talk to. Bye."



There's not a huge wave of interest in touching the necklace; Annie's discomfort with mindreading is on the extreme side. Until there's a bank robbery that is widely suspected to be the work of at least one mind-reader. Then there are people. They talk to Aldaras; they talk to Annie; they rule themselves in or out on the basis of these interviews and do or don't touch the necklace.

There's a second robbery, this one of a museum. There are several items taken, but the most worrying one is a tapestry that sharply improves one's sensory discernment - including, in a few long-ago but well-documented trials, senses granted by other artifacts - at the cost of muteness.

The potential benefits of combining this with the thimble have been speculated on but dismissed for ethical reasons.

Annie is knocking on Aldaras's door the next morning, shaking.
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Predictably, he answers it.

"Annie," he says, softly. "Hi." He'd be more cheerful upon seeing her, but - tapestry. Thimble. Terrible combination.
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"I think I need the necklace now," she says in a small voice.

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"You've - thought about it, right, this isn't - a spur of the moment kind of thing...?"

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"I can't even think straight with the - but as much as I could - yeah."

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"Okay," he murmurs, touching her cheek. "I'll go get it."

He goes inside, holding the door open for her. "Any preferences about how I treat you after you're necklaced?"
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"If I want different things after those are the wants I'm stuck with, right?" she mutters. "No point ignoring them."

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"I - suppose?" he agrees dubiously. He retrieves a strong-box and unlocks it with a key. There's the necklace, right inside. He looks at it, sadly, and holds it up to Annie.

"The - offer to live somewhere in the middle of nowhere is still open. I'll pay for it, even, if you're not sure."
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"I have no idea what the mindreading range is now." But she's hesitating in case he can talk her out of it.

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"If it's infinite," he points out, "I think the strain would kill him or drive him insane. So it's not that. We'd need to check some history texts and see by what percentage a touched person's senses are changed, and then multiply the ordinary range of the mind reading from there."

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"I - maybe - I can't think straight, I keep - it's like - ugh," she says, sitting down hard in the nearest chair.

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He sits next to her, putting the necklace down on a table, nearby.

"Okay, idea. I rent a plane and hire a pilot, we go on a trip to someplace uninhabited and go in circles in the air miles above anyone and you think about it then?"
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