Firewalled

Sean wasn’t one for computers. Unlike Claude, he could work a computer and used email to keep in touch with colleagues at their Sister schools, or for quick, non-invasive messages to other faculty or to communicate with his nephew. But as a man of a certain age, he had done all of his schooling without the benefit of computers, and he was more comfortable with his older habits, which included doing his files by hand and using his filing system that made little sense to anyone who wasn’t him. After Gabriel had attacked James and accessed his files, the psychiatrist had felt vindicated in his record keeping practices.

As a telepath, he preferred interactions between people, without the clumsiness of machines acting as a medium. But having worked with and counseled technopaths, he understood why the exact opposite was true in their case. And just as he read minds, technopaths had a tendency to hack other people’s computers. It was a security problem, and it was an invasion of privacy; it was also illegal, not merely under the rules governing meta-human behavior, but simply as federal computer crime. Hammel tried to prevent their students from getting arrested, which was why it fell to him to lecture anyone caught hacking enough times to find themselves in his office.

He could do without the mood lighting, but this was no different from how L.C. would make spikes protrude from her palms when bored in his office, or how Tess would play with pencils. For that reason, he didn’t comment on the behavior, and he instead went to the heart of the matter. “The tech team is getting tired of running into you.”

“I do not hack people’s brains,” he told her seriously. Most of the information he gleaned from other people’s minds infiltrated his; he didn’t actively seek it out. And when he did seek out information, it was for a matter of safety or security, rather than boredom or a feeling that he was generally entitled to it by virtue of the fact that he could access the information if he so chose. “And I already know why you do it, so there isn’t any reason to dance around the topic.”

Although Sean wanted the students to be comfortable around him, it was equally important to maintain professional barriers, both as a member of the faculty in a school setting and as a medical professional. As such, he corrected her immediately, “You can call me ‘Doc,’ if you want to be informal. Otherwise you can call me ‘Doctor Neville.’” He paused for a moment to give her the opportunity to absorb that and to become contrite, although he doubted the latter would happen. Then he continued, “The fact that you don’t understand the notion of privacy and why it’s important is the problem, especially since you’re not even willing to acknowledge it. People build walls because they do need them, and it isn’t your place to tell another person that she isn’t entitled to her privacy and secrets.”

He had no intention of coddling this particular teenager, because she was a repeat offender and because she did this willingly. More than that, he was aware of the other aspect of her endeavors, which was even worse than the hacking, and went farther than merely the difference in understanding which resulted from her powers. “Would it be fair for a student with intangibility to break into your room, take your computer and sell it to someone else?”

Sean was not going to rise to the bait, and he was not going to allow himself to get sidetracked. She had been sent here for a disciplinary meeting, and this was his arena; she would not dictate the conversation, and he need not answer questions she asked. She knew why she did this; because of that, he also knew why. It was simple; the matter was settled, and thus he ignored the repeated question. He heard the other thought; Sith Lord was a new one, although he had been called a Jedi before.

Her response underscored what he had said a moment ago; that she did not actually respect privacy. If she did, she would not view attempts at privacy as a challenge to be overcome. “This school is about helping you adapt to society as a whole in addition to training your powers and getting a general education. You pull this stunt with the U.S. government and you end up in federal prison at best. At worst, you do something considered treasonous that results in someone’s death and you could qualify for capital punishment. That isn’t what this school is for, and if we can’t guarantee you’ll adapt, we don’t let you leave.” He was serious there. Several students who completed their formal education had been held back because of mal-adaption or power difficulties; they had the authority even if they used it selectively. She had time to turn herself around, but at the moment she displayed no interest in doing so.

Sean did not react to the growl; he had touched a nerve, which he expected to do. But he kept his calm and pressed further, making the point. “You couldn’t necessarily be able to stop her, and so you would have to live with it, if you insist on having a society where capability makes morality. After all, for the intangible person, the walls you built simply aren’t sufficient.”

And reaching the other side of the matter, he gave a brief shake of his head. “And while you have gone over this with security, let me make it plain: I could prove it. The question is will I? By that same token, the question becomes will you make me by continuing this behavior? Because if you keep it up, I will prove it, and that will be the end of using your powers and access to any technology for a very long time.” His tone and expression were sober, as this was a serious threat. One that he would make good on if pressed.

“Language,” the psychiatrist replied patiently. It was an automatic correction, but a necessary one. He didn’t tolerate excessive profanity, because it communicated nothing but frustration and at times disrespect, which he was always aware of due to his ability to read minds and analyze body language. Furthermore, most adults at Hammel tolerated less profanity than he did, and so if a student reached his threshold, undoubtedly she would have been cited by another staff member.

Her cynical description missed the obvious danger inherent in her behavior, and the accusation that this was a threat further demonstrated that lack of understanding. “Do we have authority to keep you? Yes, by the same authority that we were able to get you here in the first place.” He was calm as he spoke, which underscored why she was better off here than with security. “You and I aren’t discussing small indiscretions, Mia; this isn’t a matter of unfavorable opinions or small violations. You’re committing major crimes. Federal felonies. The type that can get you arrested and thrown in a federal prison for fifteen years, where again, you’ll have no access to any technology and where people are far tougher than they are at Hammel. While you’re here, there’s a better chance of you not getting arrested. So if you won’t do it for others, do it for yourself.” That was all true. Usually he didn’t have to give this explanation, but the usual infractions involved marijuana possession and fighting in class.

The padded cell comment was unnecessary and inappropriate, particularly given his position and his history. Because she was a teenager and she was irritated, “Security’s job is to stop you in an immediate act. My job is to rectify difficulties that students have. And believe it or not, I am here to help. One day you’ll understand that.” Because Sean was not a fool, he knew that day would not be tomorrow. “You’re here for the long haul, Mia, and now you’re here with me.. You and I will have weekly sessions starting this week, separate from any disciplinary meetings that Security recommends. Depending on your behavior, you might have to see me every day.” It was important for her to realize that she did have some control over how this went.

And because Sean didn’t believe in discipline for the sake of discipline, but as a learning and corrective experience, he added, “And for every infraction, you will owe me a ten page essay. You have two weeks to write a paper about Alan Turing. Have you ever heard of him?” Turing was the father of computer science; she might find herself interested in what she learned.