“It’s rare that anyone wants to talk to me, chief. Most of the time, they just need someone to listen. I do that for them, without judgment, no matter what has happened, no matter what choices they’ve made in the past, no matter what they’re deciding now or might have to choose in the future. I’m safe, I’m impartial, and I’m omniscient, at least in their eyes. They have no reason to lie to me. People need that.”
Lila drummed her fingers on her knee.
“I steer people toward decisions they’ve already made, chief, toward people they’re already in love with, toward their own fumbling ambition. I trust them to use their own good sense. I help clear away the fog, so they can see their options for what they truly are, and I let them choose among those options without all the fluff getting in the way. I don’t judge their choices, nor do I try to sway them unless their actions will harm another person or themselves. Oracles do have a code of ethics. Who are we to say what’s best for anyone?”
“You tell them their choices have been blessed by the gods.”
“If our choices are predestined, then everything we do is blessed by the gods. People can do great things when they believe the gods are behind them.”
“And terrible.”
“People do terrible things anyway. But you’d be surprised how much hardship a person can tolerate when life falls apart around them, once pain and misfortune befalls them, so long as they believe a higher power is involved.”
“You’re all nothing but liars. Have you no shame at all?”
“You would know a great deal about lying, wouldn’t you? Perhaps you should turn your discomfort inward and evaluate the choices you’ve been making lately.”
Lila’s gaze locked on the oracle, but she found no condemnation in the woman’s hazel eyes. Was she reading her? How else would she know all the things she’d been up to?
She couldn’t, not unless she was tossing out bait.
The fish lurked behind the windows.
“People lie all the time,” the oracle said. “I just put my lies to better use.”
“Do you even believe in the gods?”
“I don’t know. It’s not all lies and psychology and guesswork. When the seizures take hold, I have visions, and they certainly don’t come from me. What I see comes to pass, at least in some form. All I can do is guide what I’ve seen to the best conclusion.”
“So you believe that your visions are true?”
“I know they are. Even so, I wonder about the machine in the basement. Perhaps more so than others who aren’t afflicted with the visions. Should we worship the ones who send me these glimpses of the future? Are there even beings behind them at all? You’d be surprised how many oracles are agnostics and atheists.”
Lila raised a brow. “Is this the part where you tell me to back off and—”
“I’d rather not waste my breath. I daresay you wouldn’t back off even if I bothered. No, I asked you here for a different reason.”
“Ah, and what’s that?”
“I had a vision this morning.”
“Did you now? What happened in this so-called vision?”
“That’s none of your concern. Not yet, anyway.” The oracle pinned Lila with a severe gaze. “A person makes thousands of decisions every day, but only a handful might decide how a vision comes to pass. I don’t mean what shoes you’ll wear on Monday or if you’ll turn right or left at an intersection. I mean decisions on a more primal level: who you’ll choose to align yourself with, how far you’ll go to defend a friend, what you believe, and how far you’ll go to defend those beliefs. It’s obvious that you haven’t made some of these decisions yet, for this particular vision was far murkier than I’ve seen in a long while. I believe it was murkier because of you, chief. Much that surrounds you is a blur. I don’t like it. I don’t feel comfortable with it.”
The oracle studied Lila with the same shrewdness her mother offered those in a business deal. “This conversation will push you to make decisions. It will put you on a path whether you want it to or not. My next vision will be clearer, and you’ll have some honest information about my kind, rather than the crap spread over the net.”
“If I’m not mistaken, your order is responsible for most of that crap.”
“No doubt. We either wrote it or deserve most of it,” she admitted. “Come back and see me sometime, chief. I don’t mind sparing an hour to help you clear your thoughts.”
“What thoughts?”
“Thoughts about watching a man you tranqed die. I’ve seen the news.”
“That wasn’t my fault.”
“No, it wasn’t. Doesn’t mean you’re not picking it apart in your mind, though. I wager that’s not the only thing you’re picking apart. How about handing over your best friend’s mother and brother to Bullstow for execution? That would brew a fair amount of drama and discontent. Perhaps it is for the best.”