The Whole Truth (The Supercharged Files Book 1) by Jody Wallace

learn with other supras?”
    “It’s difficult to explain.
Sometimes a company develops a technique it teaches only to employees. I’m a
good example. Most supras in my area can’t taste supra abilities. YuriCorp
patented that process, inasmuch as a supra company can patent something without
going through official channels. If anyone needs the technique, they have to
hire us.”
    A tractor pulled onto the road
ahead. John braked, put on his blinker, and eased around the slower vehicle.
There wasn’t much traffic, even though it was a nice Sunday afternoon. We’d
definitely picked the scenic route.
    If he were trying to extend our
time together, you’d think he’d flirt a little or respond when I tried to
flirt. “What do you do when you’re not working, John?”
    “Nashville has an NFL team I
follow in season. Otherwise, I work all the time.”
    It was true. The poor, poor man.
All work and no play made John sadly lacking in non-business conversation.
    “A lot of people in Nashville are
into country music. Do you know any country stars?”
    “No.”
    Yeah, he was really enjoying his extended
time with me. Every time I tried to broach personal topics, his ratio of words
to sentences decreased drastically. He hadn’t seemed socially inept yesterday,
but you never knew about people once you got them alone.
    At least he was honest.
    After a long, awkward silence, I
revisited the work discussion so he’d say more than five words at a time. “What
if somebody gets a job somewhere, learns everything, quits, and takes their
shiny new skills on the road?”
    “That’s definitely an issue.” The
set of his shoulders relaxed. “The same thing happens at other companies, so
eventually knowledge is disseminated. For a while, though, discovering a new
tactic or a new supra can give us an edge.”
    “Is there any way to stop a supra
from using his or her abilities? Burn them out on purpose?” The concept of a
supra nervous breakdown was foreign to me, but so was a management consulting
company filled with mutants.
    John frowned, his face creasing
into its habitual, and cute, grooves. “There are unreliable methods. I’m sure
you’ve noticed your suprasenses are dulled by narcotics.”
    “Sure.” Alcohol dulled all my
senses, including the lie sight, but not enough for booze to be worth it. “I
guess you can’t force a crook to stay hammered. Are there supra cops?”
    “All efforts to form a police
force have dissolved.” He sounded like he was a news reporter reading cue
cards. “No one agrees on a central set of rules or guidelines, aside from the
laws and regulations of the countries in which we live, of course.”
    “Who kicks your ass if you get
out of line, supra style?”
    “The other companies,” John said.
“We also have a central organization called the Registry, but it’s a
laboratory, not a company.”
    “That’s the thing Yuri mentioned about
being in the system.”
    “It’s a library and an extensive
private laboratory,” he explained. “The companies who support it receive equal
access to the database and the services of the Registry lab. But it’s not a
regulatory agency, and they don’t control anything.”
    “What other ways are there to
turn supra powers off?” Supras were as human as the next clod, so supra
criminals had to exist.
    “Lobotomies,” John said.
    “Are you kidding? You lobotomize
people?”
    “Not in recent history. It proved
ineffective.” He gave a slight smile, and I realized it had been his version of
a joke. I hope. “A large electric shock can disrupt abilities.”
    Being dead would disrupt anyone’s
abilities. “Tazers?”
    “They don’t work for long.” He
cued the windshield wipers to vamoose a splattered bug. “Most supras who burn
out overdosed on amp. It’s a drug that stimulates new connections in the brain.
Small doses can heighten one’s suprasense, sometimes permanently, but there’s a
fine line between enhancement and overdose. A