Page 13 of PSYCHOlogical

Making mistakes was human. Nevertheless, identifying my actions during an assignment as being in error wasn’t an easy thing to do. My ability to plan a mission that took every possible scenario into consideration was the main reason I was selected to be in the position I was in.

“I’ll give that a try,” I said.

Her brows pinched together. “That didn’t sound very convincing.”

“I haven’t convinced myself it’s a good idea to admit I made a mistake during that assignment. It went as planned.”

“Let me explain it a little differently,” she said. “Your assignment went as planned. The portion that was in your control was faultless. A portion of that faultless assignment, however, is causing you grief. One piece of that complex puzzle troubles you. Setting that portion aside and telling yourself it was a mistake that simply happened—not a choice you made—might allow you to compartmentalize it in a manner that allows you to accept it.”

“I like that explanation much better,” I said. “Let me work on it for a day or two.”

She flipped through my file. “You haven’t had an assignment since. Other than the one issue, there’s not much to discuss.”

“It’s been an uneventful two weeks,” I said. “Weapons training and the gym have been about it.”

She closed my file. After fidgeting in her chair for some time, she seemed to find a comfortable position. She let out a playful sigh and offered an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”

I grinned. “As long as you’re comfortable.”

“There’s a few things not related to your assignments that I’d like to talk about,” she said.

“What, specifically?”

“Nothing specific. Just…things.”

I’d been seeing her for three years. In that time, I hadn’t allowed our discussions to extend beyond what was necessary for her to do her job.

In short, we talked about work.

I found the thought of expanding our conversations interesting. “What types of things?”

“I’ve got a question or two I’d like to ask. After that, we can have an ‘off the record’ conversation.” Her brows raised in wonder. “If you’re okay with that.”

If I had a talk with anyone about anything, I perceived it as being ‘on the record’. To think otherwise was to put myself at risk.

“Off the record, huh?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“Okay,” I said. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“A world exists outside of this one. In it, there are no laws, nor are there any repercussions for your actions,” she explained. “You’re free to do whatever you like without fear of prosecution or persecution. There’s nothing you can do to change the world. You can’t develop law, a court system, or any means of punishment for wrongdoing, because there is no wrongdoing. You’re forced to live there, for the rest of your life, in this world as it exists. My question to you is this: would you kill?”

I tried to imagine life in such a place. Chaos was the first thing that came to mind. “Sounds like I’d have to.”

“Why?”

“Self-defense would be my guess.”

“In the absence of defending yourself, would you be tempted to kill?”

“Tempted?” I looked at her like she was nuts. “Like satisfying an itch?”

“In that world, could you see yourself killing for any reason other than self-defense?”

“There wouldn’t be a reason to.”

“Is that a no?”