“Do you realize that more than a thousand people have been re-enslaved?”

“Are we safe even in Freedomland?”

Kessa felt smaller than usual. She was the only ummin on the dais. Everyone else who faced this aggressive audience—Ariock, Garrett, Jinishta, and Thomas—had impressive powers.

“Will we ever get an antidote to the inhibitor? Or is that just an empty promise?”

“Why can’t the Lady of Sorrow help us?”

“Are you planning to zombify the entire Torth population?”

Open air and the distant ocean formed a backdrop behind the councilors and correspondents. Most of them were nussians, govki, and ummins, although a few exotic species had sent emissaries to this public assembly. A slug-like cave worm clung to one of the marble columns. Kessa remembered that unfortunate species from New GoodLife WaterGarden City. The Torth had forced the sapient worms to clean shafts and drainage pipes.

She identified a Yoft gnome, as well as two feathery Kemkorcans. There were rarer species whom she knew little about. Thomas had once explained that the galaxy had plenty of “extremophile sapients,” but military units required a few basic commonalities, so for now, they had little to do with alien populations who were unsuited for a normal range of gravity or air breathing.

“My lab is working around the clock,” Thomas said.

His voice echoed from speakers around the outdoor atrium. The whole assembly quieted down, paying attention. They had come for answers.

“We are making progress towards immunity to the inhibitor.” Thomas floated in front of Ariock on his colossal chair, rough-hewn from a silvery meteorite. “Both the micro-dart kind and the gaseous kind.”

“How long will it take?” someone shouted.

Others emphasized the question. When would immunity be ready?

“I won’t speculate on a timeline,” Thomas said. “We’re working hard on the problem, but we have research hurdles to overcome.”

Kessa had spoken with Varktezo about the obstacles. According to the chief lab assistant, the Torth Empire lacked a fundamental comprehension of how powers worked, which meant Thomas was scientifically blind in that field. No one understood what caused powers, let alone how to amplify them or prevent them. The very fact that the Twins had invented a gaseous version of the inhibitor implied that they were quite a lot of research steps ahead of Thomas.

“We have made progress on reverse-engineering the gaseous inhibitor,” Thomas said. “And we discovered some good news. The stuff is too unstable to store. The Torth have to generate it on location.”

Ariock nodded in approval. No doubt he had already been informed.

“That will inform our strategies, going forward,” Thomas said. “And give us a chance to recoup some of our losses.”

He paused for audience questions. An overhead causeway sheltered the dais from the brightness of the striated sky, and an officiant stood up there. She used a spotlight to select one of the many people with raised microphones.

“Why can’t it be stored?” the chosen correspondent shouted.

“It’s a phase-shifting substance,” Thomas answered. “It is both a radioactive wave and a gas.” He projected a holographic demonstration. “As a wave, it has no effect on us. The Torth set up wave generating devices in a configuration that will cause a phase shift build up. Like so.” His holograph glowed with pyramidal points. “When it reaches a critical build up? It phase shifts to the pink gas.” His holograph morphed accordingly. “And the gas itself is unstable. After thirty minutes or a few hours, depending on accumulation, it will collapse back into waves and dissipate.”

Garrett’s mouth was a thin line. Kessa figured that he did not know enough science to comprehend the explanation.

The rest of the assembly looked just as uncertain. A few of them had scrunched up faces, trying to translate Thomas’s explanation into concepts they were familiar with.

“The bottom line,” Thomas said, “is that for now, the gas is only a threat when the Torth choose the battleground. If we pick the fight? Then we should be able to send in a few Alashani warriors.”

Jinishta’s frown deepened.

“But the Torth can teleport across the galaxy!” someone shouted out of turn. “How can we expect to keep choosing battlegrounds?”

That riled up the assembly. Everybody hated the new paradigm.

“Galactic teleportation is costly for Torth champions.” Thomas raised his voice to be heard over the rising hubbub. “Even more so than it is for Garrett. They get depleted after one jump.”

The assembly was not reassured.

“But they can show up in Freedomland!” An albino councilor gestured at the vista of the city.

“We aren’t safe!”

Voices overlapped, adding emphasis. What if a Torth teleported into a busy intersection and began shooting? What if a Torth teleported into the midst of a penitent work crew, and led the penitents on a rampage? Did everybody need to carry a blaster glove at all times? If so, how long could freedom last? There were far more Torth champions than Alashani warriors.

What if the Torth Empire could not be overthrown?

In fact, what if a serious challenge to the Torth Empire was upsetting some mysterious universal karmic balance?

Thomas touched his fingers to his forehead, as if he had a headache.

“Any Torth who shows up here will be trapped.” Ariock’s deep voice had a boom that no one else could match. “We’re well defended.”

Kessa tapped the microphone clipped to her headdress, indicating that she wanted to speak. The others paused as she stood.

“If there is a large-scale invasion,” Kessa said, “your supercoms will direct you to the nearest shelter.”

She sat.

“That’s right,” Ariock said, backing her up. “All of our shelters are mirror-protected, meaning that no one, not even me, can teleport into them.”

“The Torth won’t even be able to find them,” Garrett added.

“Most Torth champions are too weak to ghost to our out-of-the-way planet,” Thomas said. “They would have to enter our solar system first.”

“And believe me,” Ariock said, “I am keeping watch.”

The assembly looked slightly mollified.

In private, Kessa knew that Ariock had promised to allow lone streamships to get close to Reject-20, and even to land. The Freedomland Spaceport must remain open to renegade Torth. If the boy Twin showed up in his scientific vessel, he must be welcomed. Victory against the galactic Torth Empire might depend upon gaining such an influential ally.

But there was no reason to publicly announce that random Torth could show up.

People were afraid. Kessa was proud of both Thomas and Ariock for clearing time in their schedules for this broadcast session. People deserved solid reassurances from the top leaders, not just empty platitudes from a clueless spokesperson.

“I know we’re stretched thin,” Ariock said to the assembly, his tone apologetic. “I’m well aware that we need more of everything. We need more soldiers. More equipment. And more allies.”

Heartfelt agreement rippled through the assembly.

“That’s what we’re going to address, here. We do have some good news to share.” Ariock gestured for Thomas to go on.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Thomas told the assembly that his technicians had developed a new kind of radar that could detect fast-flying transports. He named a few technicians who deserved special recognition for their creative thinking. His laboratories were making drastic improvements to the space armor which warriors and pilots wore in battle zones, and they had other military innovations in the works.

“Overall,” Thomas said, “I’m hopeful. But I think our technological innovations are only a humble part of the larger picture.” He gestured towards Kessa.

This moment was inevitable. Kessa had known that she would need to address the liberated galaxy, yet she felt frail and inadequate. Surely she did not belong at the head of anything?

Sometimes she wondered if Thomas had made an actual mistake in appointing her as the face of the war.

“Kessa has an excellent plan,” Thomas said, “to help us gain allies in our fight against the Torth Empire.”

A lifter swept onto the dais. The little platform stopped in front of Kessa, offering a silent invitation. A technician was controlling it from the causeway overhead.

“Thank you, Thomas.” The microphone amplified Kessa’s meager voice.

She hopped aboard the lifter, and it boosted her higher. Now everybody in the outdoor assembly could see her. Hundreds of dignitaries lifted their gazes to study the elderly ummin.

They looked unimpressed. Or so Kessa imagined.

“Friends,” she said. “You know that we have a large population of penitents. They work our fields. They build our apartment homes. They weave our clothes, maintain our transports, and generally serve us as slave labor.”

Silence. She was stating the obvious.

“But,” Kessa went on, “permanent enslavement was never the long-term plan for them. Remember, we discussed this.” She gave a nod towards Thomas, who floated in a corner, unobtrusive. “We are not going to fuel a new empire with slaves. We are not going to transform ourselves into Torth. If we do that, then what is the point of victory over the Torth?”

Most of the assembly watched her with arms folded or tightened lips. Only a few people nodded in agreement.

“So let’s just get rid of the penitents!” a premier warrior shouted. “Kill them!”

Ariock aimed a stern look in that direction, and the whispers quieted.

Kessa was glad that Ariock had not been raised Alashani. At least he was not eager to turn all the penitents into bloody corpses.

“We need allies,” Kessa said. “It is imperative that we give the penitents a path towards redemption.”

They listened. Deep down, she thought, they knew this was the right path.

“It is likely the only way we will win this war,” Kessa dared to say.

That stirred up dark mutterings.

“My lieutenants have verified several thousand penitents who want to earn redemption,” Kessa said, her amplified voice overriding the whispers of skeptics. “I asked Thomas to personally guarantee twenty of those. He did. He telepathically soaked up their life histories, and he is certain that those penitents are unequivocally on our side. They will aid us. They will do whatever is necessary to help us defeat the Torth Empire.”

The mutterings became darker.

“She trusts that rekveh?” someone said.

“Yes.” Kessa stared at the accuser. “I trust my friend.” She emphasized that. “Thomas personally removed my slave collar. And I think you know that he is responsible for the freedom of everybody here. This is his war against the Torth as much as it is ours.”

She was never sure why so many people hated Thomas. He did have vocal supporters amongst the alien population, but they seemed to be quieter, perhaps more timid, than the loudmouths who shouted that all mind readers were evil.

The spotlight went to a nussian councilor. She bellowed, “How can we let penitents near our families?”

Kessa offered a gracious nod for such a relevant question. “I have chosen my lieutenants based on a capacity for empathy. These are people who inspire kindness and mutual understanding. I trust their judgment. If they claim a penitent to be rehabilitated? Then that penitent should be promoted to the status of a household slave. In other words, they will be placed with a family. And I do have a long list of volunteer families.”

A lot of former slaves wanted to own their former owners, or to own a Torth in general. Kessa had ruled out any who showed a propensity for cruelty.

“From there,” Kessa went on, “it is up to the family to judge when their household penitent is fully rehabilitated. They can then declare the penitent as redeemed.”

“And then what?” someone shouted.

“You can’t just let Torth loose in society!” a nussian roared.

“What if they pick up a weapon?” an albino demanded. “Can we kill them then?”

Kessa sighed. The whole point was to grant penitents the same rights as anyone else. They should be allowed to become soldiers, or whatever they wanted to become. It seemed simple to her. Yet the assembly stared as if she had just spouted gibberish.

“Freedom is for everybody.” Ariock stood, adding his towering size to Kessa’s conviction. “I’ve gained allies who used to be Torth. I’ve seen them do heroic things. They’ve saved my life.” He gestured towards Thomas and Garrett. “We could use more allies like them.”

His deep voice made an impression. People exchanged glances of doubtful speculation.

“We have twenty penitents who are guaranteed to be fully trustworthy,” Kessa pointed out. “And if there are twenty, then there are more. A lot more.”

She let that sink in.

Grumblings spread throughout the assembled councilors and battle leaders. Who would allow such monsters near children? Couldn’t mind readers be deceitful?

“Are you going to take penitents into your own household, Kessa?” someone challenged.

Kessa hesitated. She knew that she ought to lead by example, but the idea of owning people… it filled her with disgust.

“What stops supposedly trustworthy penitents from lying and pretending to be human?” someone shouted.

Garrett stood. “They cannot coordinate like Torth can. We forbid them from contacting the Torth Empire. That means they cannot summon a cadre of bullying friends. If I catch any of them breaking the no-Megacosm rule?” He hammered his fist into his open palm. “I get to kill them.”

A few people looked reassured.

“They don’t need to summon an army to hurt us,” an Alashani councilor yelled. “They’re good at manipulation.”

There were shouts of agreement.

“They know how gullible slaves are!” another albinos said.

“Perhaps a runaway slave is not the best judge of rekvehs.” An elderly Alashani councilor gave Kessa a challenging stare. “She was trained from birth to obey and please them.”

Albino heads nodded in agreement.

Someone laughed with contempt.

When Kessa swallowed, she felt a phantom constriction around her throat, as if from the tight grip of a slave collar.

Was it possible that the Alashani were right about her? Was she unaware of her own flaws?

Garrett looked fierce. “Kessa has proved, a thousand times over, that she isn’t a slave.”

Of course, no one quite trusted Garrett. He was a rekveh.

Thomas looked as if he wanted to speak up on Kessa’s behalf, but he knew it was futile.

Kessa surveyed the upturned faces of the assembly. Now that winning was no longer easy, it seemed people were losing faith in the war. They didn’t trust Thomas … but more saliently, they were losing faith in Ariock. And in Kessa.

That was a problem.

The last thing their side of the war needed was to break apart into rival gangs. A bunch of bickering gangs could not defeat the Torth Empire.

Kessa was just an ummin, but she had the stage, for now. She was going to use it.

She used her toes to lift her hover platform higher. “I suppose to an Alashani, the only trustworthy person is another Alashani?”

A few of them paid attention.

“Let us suppose that the shani have more value than any other sapients in the universe,” Kessa said. “Unfortunately, there are very few shani. Freed slaves and penitent Torth greatly outnumber them. So they rely on having allies.”

No one could argue that fact. Albinos were overrepresented here, but in ordinary society? They only had a handful of neighborhoods. Everyone knew the exact number of surviving warriors. There were fewer than nine hundred of them.

“Do you know what the greatest flaw among mind readers is?” Kessa asked.

A few people began to shout replies.

Kessa ruthlessly cut them off. “Any slave, former or otherwise, will tell you. It is their inflated sense of superiority. Every penitent suffers from that wrongheaded superiority complex. Every mind reader has it.”

She paused, so that her next words would make an impact.

“And I observe the same in their albino kin.” She swept the assembly with her gaze. “The Alashani seem like rekvehs to many former slaves.”

Her accusation hit the assembly like a meteor strike. Everyone, particularly the shani, gaped in shock.

“That’s right.” Kessa did not care if her words cut them. She glared at the albinos in the assembly—because she felt offended.

Did they really believe that she was mentally a slave?

She was the face of the rebellion. She was the main reason why newly liberated slaves were so ready and willing to trust their liberators. Her speeches, custom-tailored for every population, urged people to abandon their Torth loyalties and embrace a new paradigm.

Her loyalists risked their lives to spread underground rumors and prepare slaves for freedom. Her lieutenants risked their families in order to rehabilitate former Torth.

Without those former slaves? There would be no space fleet. No transport armadas. No soldiers. No technicians. No scientists.

No possibility of success against the Torth Empire.

If Kessa and her ilk were just slaves to the brave, smug warriors? Then there was no hope. There was no future for her people, or theirs.

“I have as much reason to hate the Torth as you do.” Kessa indicated the scarred ring around her neck. “Do you think I blithely trust every penitent I meet? I am not a fool. I don’t go near them without soldiers and blaster gloves. Do you think I love mind readers?” She gestured towards Thomas. “You don’t know what it took for me to consider that one my friend. We saved each other’s life more than once.”

Thomas gave her a proud, respectful look that she would never forget.

“Trusting penitents is not something I consider easy,” Kessa said. “I don’t expect anyone to trust them with casual ease. There is a great chasm between our species. Bridging that chasm may take multiple generations.” She rotated the lifter so she could address everyone equally. “Many of our people hate them too much to consider changing that attitude. But compassion is vital. It is the core of what separates our society from the Torth Empire.”

The assembly listened. And a flood of fresh opinions poured forth.

“Are we really going to end slavery?!”

What if penitents and free people actually started to get along? Could Freedomland become a place where no one was inherently inferior or superior to anyone else? What if slave collars and ownership culture no longer existed?

A well-respected govki councilor gained the spotlight, and she shouted over the hubbub. “I would personally oversee the ones that Thomas guarantees as friendly.” She folded her upper pair of arms. “In fact, I am quite curious to meet such a reformed Torth.”

“Yes.” Jinishta looked enthused. “We trust Thomas to plan our battles and zombify our prisoners. Why shouldn’t we trust his guarantees on this? We really do need more soldiers.”

Conversations became more lively, and Kessa recognized ideas that she had never dared make public, because they seemed too farfetched to take seriously. Battle leaders talked about relying on converted enemies. Even now, it was hard to believe that a future full of trustworthy penitents would actually happen.

“Yes.”

“Why not?”

Kessa kept her back straight. She had just won a battle.