After days spent visiting fields or sweatshops, where penitent Torth labored, Kessa thought the Academy looked jarringly clean. Everyone in the hallways was well-groomed.

Penitents were not allowed to mingle with students, of course, and they were not allowed near research scientists. They could not be allowed within range of anyone who possessed potentially sensitive military intelligence.

Kessa visited old friends who now worked in Thomas’s laboratories. She interrupted technicians at workstations. Once she had said her hellos, she gained directions to the tower where Thomas lived.

There were sentries. There was an intercom. The vault-like gates looked thick enough to withstand a grenade.

“Come on up,” Thomas’s voice said, once he had been informed of his visitor.

The door sentries looked overawed as the gates slid apart. They might feel honored to meet Kessa the Wise—or they were shocked that someone actually dared to visit Thomas.

Kessa walked through a cavernous private lobby. She wore a pastel-colored outfit sewn with lacy puzzle patterns, which made her feel delicate and out of place. Her reflection was a meager shadow on burnished meteorite tiles, wall panels, and pillars.

She climbed an echoey spiral ramp that was wide enough to accommodate mated nussians. She doubted that many nussians went into the so-called Dragon Tower. Their hands were too big for Torth-designed lab equipment, so they couldn’t really become lab technicians. She had heard that a group of nussian students were creating their own workstations so they could participate in scientific endeavors.

After poking her head into dozens of cluttered storage rooms, she located Thomas in the huge tower top, with its wrap-around balcony. Gauzy curtains billowed in a breeze. Beyond, the banded gas giant filled the sky, its faint reflection playing upon the tranquil ocean.

“Hey Kessa.”

Thomas flexed a hinged device which Kessa recognized as Torth gym equipment. He was painstakingly working out.

“Hello, Thomas.” Kessa leaned again the doorway, arms folded. She decided to make no comment on what he was doing, while soldiers fought to win cities according to his plans, and while technicians worked in his laboratories. “It has been such a long time since we last spoke. You give us so many penitents to work with, it is a full-time task just to stay organized.”

“That’s mostly Ariock.”

Kessa wondered if Thomas was trying to appear humble. Sure, he never went into battle himself, but his strategies translated to victories, which meant constant gains of liberated people, prisoners, and penitents.

What about his superluminal communications technology? That was having a massive effect. For the first time, former slaves were able to talk to each other spontaneously across a gulf of light years. They were almost on par with the Torth Empire. Everyone realized it.

Nowadays, entire fleets or armies could be stationed in alien metropolises, and Ariock didn’t have to constantly move them around. Battle captains and warrior premiers could interact with the war council from anywhere in the galaxy.

“I just make the plans.” Thomas flexed his arms against the resistance device. “Ariock executes them.”

Perhaps Thomas wanted to distance himself from having responsibilities? He rarely left the research annex of the Academy. Whenever he did venture out, it was either to the Mirror Prison or to the cliffside fortress where war councils were held.

He avoided the dingy places where penitents worked. He never even looked at them.

“Perhaps you could visit a barracks full of penitents, sometime?” Kessa suggested. “I am sure I could benefit greatly from your analysis of them.“

Thomas stopped exercising long enough to grimace at her.

“Why not?” Kessa asked.

Thomas let the exercise device rest in his lap and gazed out at the ocean. He looked reluctant to answer.

But he was obligated to answer.

He was not obligated in the same way as a penitent Torth, yet nevertheless, he was caught in the honor of his promise. Kessa waited.

“I soak up enough abject fear whenever I visit the Mirror Prison,” Thomas said, breaking the lengthy silence. “I get it from the Megacosm, too. The Torth have mental mantras to remind each other to watch out for the temptations I offer. They’re on high alert.”

“The penitents are not in the prison, or in the Megacosm,” Kessa pointed out.

“I’m the Conqueror.” Thomas sounded ironic and ashamed of it. “As far as most penitents are concerned, I’m a horrific tyrant with no oversight. They hate me.”

In that case, Kessa thought, the penitents shared some common ground with the Alashani.

“They’re afraid I’ll twist their minds,” Thomas admitted. “Or worse, I’m sure. They probably believe I can just mind twist the whole Megacosm.”

His tone wasn’t quite sarcastic enough.

“Is that something you are capable of?” As soon as the question left her beak, Kessa regretted it. There was an implied accusation. If Thomas could casually end the Torth Empire with a thought, he probably would have done so by now. He wanted to win this war as much as she did.

“The Megacosm is a consensual act,” Thomas said. “The only way I can twist minds through the Megacosm is if my victim allows it. And I could only do it to one at a time. So it’s a self-defeating proposition, something the humans of my homeland call a catch-22. If I went around tricking Torth into letting me into their core minds, then twisting them … soon no one would allow me in. I would lose access to the Megacosm.”

“Ah.” Kessa wondered how many minds Thomas could twist in the few seconds—or minutes?— before he lost access. He might still be able to incite slaughter across the galaxy.

She was glad that he could not read her mind from across the room.

“It’s also a power drain,” Thomas went on, perhaps trying to offer reassurances that he was not at all dangerous. “Zombification is intensive, just like healing, and I don’t have infinite raw strength. I expect that I can do maybe fifty, maybe one hundred, before I’d collapse from depletion.”

That did conjure an image of Thomas as feeble.

Except Kessa remembered that linking was possible. If Thomas joined his power with that of Ariock, he would gain an exponential boost in raw power.

Thomas might assume that Kessa had overlooked that idea. It was natural for Thomas to remember factors that no one else remembered.

Well.

If Thomas wished to be coy about his capabilities, Kessa would be similarly reticent. She would not give him any extra leverage or advantages over her.

Stolen story; please report.

She wandered further into the room, pretending to be lost in contemplation. “So,” she said, “you dislike being feared. Yet you keep making more zombies.” She kept her tone gentle and non-accusatory.

“It’s what Garrett wants,” Thomas said.

Kessa knew that wasn’t the whole reason. Garrett did claim ownership of Thomas, yet he also feared “the boy.”

“You agree with Garrett?” Kessa guessed. “You think zombies are the way to win this war?”

“No.” Thomas saw that she would dig for a better answer, and said, “Zombies keeps the Torth afraid of us.” He looked defensive. “Besides, it’s dangerous to let the Mirror Prison get too full of Rosies and Servants. The Torth Empire might take risks for high value prisoners. It’s best not to let the prison population get too high, or the Torth are likely to send a force here, to Reject-20.”

Torth warships could not approach the planet without running a major risk of being caught in Ariock’s periodic clairvoyant sweeps. Kessa supposed a fleet of individual streamships might get close. But could they land? The Freedomland spaceport was patrolled and full of military ships.

Thomas saw her skepticism from across the room. “Don’t underestimate the Torth.”

She recognized that as good advice.

“We’re winning for now.” Thomas gazed at the city sprawl, protective. “We’re slicing away rot, exposing how feeble their empire was. But we’re going to strike bone at some point. The Torth Empire will find its spine.”

Kessa knew the Torth well enough to suspect that he was right.

“They’ll do something I fail to predict,” Thomas said. “It’s bound to happen sooner or later.”

Below them, pedestrians flowed through the streets, relaxed and talkative. The people of Freedomland felt safe. But Kessa could imagine enemy super-geniuses inventing new weapons, or telepathic soldiers discovering some new power, such as galactic teleportation.

Or what if the Majority simply voted to force their military ranks to return to the battlefront?

Servants and Rosies could avoid zombification. All they had to do was carry suicide pellets in their teeth, the way Alashani warriors used to do. Wasn’t it only a matter of time before the Majority decided to force them to take that drastic measure?

Thomas swept the city with a gaze that looked pensive and sad. He seemed to value this place as much as any freed slave.

Which made sense. Thomas had chosen this planet and selected this exact location. Every major street and plaza was arranged according to his blueprints. He had instructed Ariock on what to construct and what supplies to import.

The local residents lovingly called Freedomland “Ariock’s City.” But it would be more accurate to call it Thomas’s City.

Kessa ambled around his hoverchair, giving it a wide berth, staying clear of his range of telepathy. “I would like to return to the topic of penitents. A few of them show promising signs…”

She lost her train of thought, frozen in mid-step as she became aware of an enormous beast eyeing her from the shadowy depths of the room.

A sky croc.

It raised its bony head on a sinuous, graceful neck. Watching Kessa with avid yellow-orange eyes, it scissored its immense jaws into a grin with needle-sharp teeth.

Kessa lost her words and her sense of safety. For a brief instant, she felt almost as if she was in a city ruled by Torth. She stepped back and back again.

The sky croc looked like a juvenile—it was smaller than the monsters that soared over distant cliffs—but it was still big enough to chomp her in half. Its kind were known to snatch ummins and albinos, and most often, penitent Torth, and fly off with them. Victims were never seen again.

“Don’t be afraid,” Thomas said. “Kessa, that’s my friend. He won’t hurt you.”

Kessa dared not take her eyes off the wild beast. It lay in a makeshift nest, its leathery body folded amidst shredded boxes and blankets. It must have been there the whole time.

Its snout was longer than the beak of a mer nerctan. And it had a lot of teeth.

“Please don’t leave.” Thomas sounded anxious. “I want Azhdarchidae to learn who my friends are.”

The beast’s enormous eyes had slit pupils.

Kessa became aware that it was merely watching her. This animal could easily jut out its long neck, or fly. Instead, it seemed content to assess her from a distance.

“As Dark A Day?” Kessa asked, wondering at the multisyllabic, alien name Thomas had given his friend. It sounded like a phrase in the language of paradise.

“Azhdarchidae.” Thomas pronounced it in a way that blended the syllables together. “On my homeworld, the word refers to predators from an ancient era, that looked somewhat like my friend here. And the word itself derives from an old human reference to fire-breathing monsters with long necks, known as dragons.”

“Fire-breathing?” Kessa hoped that sky crocs could not exhale flames. Certain Torth could ignite the very air, if they felt like it. Thomas could…

Thomas interrupted her thoughts. “Well, watch this.”

He floated to a refrigerated container, lifted the lid, and pulled out a chunk of frozen red meat. Kessa blinked in amazement. Thomas would have been unable to heft that item a month ago. He really was getting stronger.

The beast stirred. It looked ready to lunge at the meal.

“Stay put,” Thomas told it in a firm tone.

To Kessa’s surprise, Azhdarchidae settled down. The animal seemed uncaring of the fact that Thomas was the size of its typical prey and unable to stand up. It seemed curious like a child, rather than the predator it was.

Thomas placed the steak onto a spring-loaded catapult mounted on a swivel.

“Northwest,” he told Azhdarchidae in a commanding voice.

Kessa jumped as the enormous beast lunged out the window towards the mountains, snaking its neck and snapping its bony jaws. At the same time, Thomas swiveled the catapult in that direction. He pressed a button to release it, and the steak hurtled away with a whooshing sound.

The steak also caught on fire. It became a fireball, engulfed in white-hot flames.

Azhdarchidae banked in mid-air, ready to catch the fiery meal. By the time the steak vanished into his huge maw, the flames were gone. The air smelled faintly of barbecued meat.

“He loves cooked food.” Thomas sounded like a proud parent bragging about his child. “It’s a special treat for him.”

Kessa found the display unsettling. She could not guess why Thomas had befriended a carnivorous wild animal, but he had a purpose for everything he did.

Azhdarchidae landed on a balustrade and clambered back into the tower room, apparently content to settle back down in the nest. The animal was definitely not a zombified victim. It was too curious and alert to be brain damaged.

“I’m training Azhdarchidae to steer clear of the city when he flies,” Thomas explained. “He follows my signal flares in mid-air.”

Kessa supposed that might keep people in courtyards or on rooftops safe.

Thomas looked sheepish. “I’d appreciate if you keep quiet about my friend. Just for a while. I’m not exactly keeping him a secret, but…” He looked embarrassed. “There are already rumors. I don’t want people to think I’m zombifying animals.”

Kessa nodded.

“And I’d rather not have Garrett find out right away,” Thomas admitted.

Kessa sighed. Mind readers made everything complicated. “I can avoid the range of penitents for a few days. But it is my job to work with them, Thomas.”

“I get it. Thanks.” Thomas gave her a grateful look. “By the way, friends are welcome to meet Azhdarchidae. It would be nice if…” He hesitated, shoulders hunched defensively. “Well, I would like Cherise to meet him. It’s best if Azhdarchidae recognizes who my friends are.”

Kessa folded her arms. It felt good to be counted among Thomas’s friends.

And it was interesting that Thomas casually mentioned Cherise, after many moon cycles of never seeing her or speaking with her. How often did he think of the Earth girl?

She considered polite ways to ask Thomas what he was spending his time on, these days. Exercise? Playtime with a juvenile sky croc? Some people would dismiss those as the pursuits of idle people—the sort of people who would rather emulate Torth than fill their days with productivity.

Thomas seemed to misread her hesitance. “I guess you’ve heard about the baby farms. It’s too bad you never got an influx of underage mind readers to work with.”

“Yes.” Kessa studied him. Thomas was an underage mind reader. Perhaps he was the only one she would ever meet.

Thomas plucked the exercise device off his lap and placed it on a countertop with other equipment. “Maybe we’ll be able to free a few baby farms on the next planet we conquer.”

Kessa imagined it.

Even if underage Torth proved to be as magnificently emotional as any human … even if a tech crew retooled tranquility meshes to enhance emotions instead of diminish them … even if penitent Torth magically began transforming into humans … she could not imagine any great number of them.

And what good would it do?

Few people would trust mind readers, no matter how nice and friendly they acted. Families would refuse to adopt Torth children. Soldiers would not feel comfortable fighting alongside penitents, even if those penitents miraculously began to act like Vy and Cherise. There were too many generations of injustice in their mutual history.

“I am not sure that the gulf between freed slaves and former Torth can ever be bridged,” Kessa admitted.

Thomas gave her such a severe look of anguish, she wanted to back away. “You’re my only hope.”

Kessa wanted to rid herself of the severity of that statement. She could not quite believe that Thomas had real faith in her supposed power to transform Torth into humans.

“We need to win hearts,” Thomas said. “Not just minds and bodies. We can’t rely on zombies. We can’t hold the territory we take unless we start gaining Torth on our side for real. Otherwise? This freedom is fleeting.”

Kessa took the risk of walking closer to him.

Just a bit. She did not step into his range. But she leaned on the balcony and peered down at the city.

“I have not given up on the penitents.”

If there was any possibility of bridging the gap between former slaves and former Torth, Kessa resolved to find the way.