Free Limbo (The Last Humans Book 2) by Anna Zaires, Dima Zales

stays shut this time. They didn’t ask me a question.
    “Have you done anything inappropriate today, Theodore?” a voice asks. “If not today, then how about yesterday?”
    “I felt inappropriate sensations as I watched Grace do yoga,” my mouth says. I’m appalled. I want to jump back into my body and stop my stupid mouth from saying these things, but I can’t get back, no matter how much I yearn for control. As though to spite me, my mouth continues. “Additionally, I played a prank on Owen. We filled his room with Food bars.” No , I mentally scream at my mouth, but I can feel it isn’t done yet. Despite my titanic effort to silence it, my mouth opens and utters, “Finally, I used the F-word a few minutes ago.”
    At least my mouth didn’t reveal that I nearly attacked Owen. I guess it doesn’t consider ‘nearly doing something’ as ‘actually doing something.’
    The voices confer in hushed tones. All I hear is, “His neural activity is extremely bizarre, but the Lens is clearly working.”
    “What happened to Mason, Theodore?” a voice asks. “Do you know who Mason is?”
    “I don’t understand those two questions,” my mouth says. “Are you talking about the people who worked with stones? People from History Lecture? Or do you mean the secret society?”
    “Did you make the Council Forget a meeting?” a voice asks.
    “I don’t understand this question either,” my mouth says. “What council? What meeting?”
    “Why is your neural scan so erratic?” a voice asks.
    “I don’t know,” my mouth replies.
    For what feels like an hour, the voice asks more of these meaningless questions. My mouth pretty much always answers, ‘No,’ interspersed with the occasional, ‘I don’t know.’
    “Do you understand what has happened?” a voice finally asks.
    “No,” my mouth says.
    My consciousness rushes back into my body, and I instantly feel in control of my mouth and other faculties, except it’s too late. I already told them about the yoga incident and the prank, not to mention my use of vulgarity.
    I’m screwed.
    I look from one Guard to the other. Given their reflective helmets, it’s impossible to tell how upset or disappointed they are.
    I look to the side.
    There’s a large Screen with neural activity on display.
    Given one of the questions I was asked, it doesn’t take a big leap to figure out that it’s my scan we’re looking at.
    Examining my brain scans has been a sort of hobby of mine over the years. What I see here looks nothing like the scans I’ve seen before. The image sends a chill down my spine. Is all this abnormal activity a side effect of something they did to me?
    The female Guard gets up, distracting me from my thoughts.
    “Follow me,” she says, her voice oddly comforting.
    She heads for the door, and I get up and follow, my feet dragging as though my shoes are filled with lead.
    When I enter the waiting room, Liam, Grace, and Owen look at me questioningly. I give them a shrug and make my face into as confused an expression as I can. I don’t know what to tell them. Nothing that happened inside the Dean’s office makes sense. Of course, even if I had anything to say, it wouldn’t be safe to say it in front of the Guard.
    The female Guard passes through the room, gestures for the door to open, and makes sure I exit ahead of her. She then joins me in the corridor and meticulously gestures to lock the door behind us, as though Liam and the others are crazy enough to run away under these circumstances.
    Leading me down the long corridor, she brings me to a room I’ve never seen. Judging by its lofty size and a couple of comfortable couches in the middle, this is some kind of administrative lounge area.
    “Stay here,” the female Guard says. “Once we’re done questioning the others, you can go back to the festivities. It shouldn’t take longer than an hour.”
    As soon as she closes the door behind her, I begin to pace.
    Nothing makes sense.
    Why did she