Kessa ensured that the telepathy training room could comfortably accommodate all kinds of people. An assortment of stools and chairs lined the burnished walls, with enough room leftover for nussians or hoverchairs. The space was large enough for half the war council.

But most of the seats were empty.

Varktezo and several lab assistants entered the room, plus a handful of Kessa’s lieutenants, including Braglem and Utavlug Hano. Pung and Dyoot were a surprise. Kessa had sent them each a last-minute invitation, but she’d been sure that Dyoot, in particular, would be too independent to take lessons from the very mind reader who used to own him. Here he was, clambering onto a stool.

Weptolyso was busy leading freedom fighters on Nuss, so he could not be here, but Kessa was surprised to see his mate, Yuey. Accepting an invitation to read minds seemed like an especially brave step for an Alashani nussian who had grown up believing that rekvehs were vile demons.

All in all, there were thirteen ummins, three govki, and just the one nussian. No Ariock? No Vy or Cherise? Ah well. It seemed that most of Kessa’s invitees had declined to show up.

Garrett cleared his throat. He sat in an armchair by the window. “Before we begin,” the old Torth hybrid said, “let me tell you about minds.”

No doubt Garrett was already absorbing the thoughts of those who sat nearest to him in the circle: Pung, Junwon, Humtut, and Varktezo.

The boxy device on the table next to him must be an emitter. Once Garrett turned it on, everyone in this room would be comparatively helpless. They would be unable to discern reality from imagination.

Kessa pushed down her tingle of unease. She was not a slave trapped with an unfriendly mind reader. She had chosen to be here. She was in control of this situation. Garrett was just grouchy, not dangerous. Not to her.

Varktezo raised his hand.

“Yes, Varktezo?” Garrett looked slightly annoyed at being sidetracked before he had even begun to teach anything.

Varktezo’s hand dropped, and he looked gratified to have been called upon. “Will Ariock attend these lessons?”

Garrett hesitated.

It must be a question on a lot of people’s minds, judging by the expectant looks around the room. Everyone suspected that Ariock was just as vulnerable to psychic confusion as any ummin. A helmet and air tank might not even protect him. The effect was related to waves of dark energy. It could bleed through walls, given enough saturation and enough time.

“Ariock is…” Garrett seemed to change his mind about whatever falsehood he had been about to speak, perhaps realizing that the students in this room would soon be absorbing his thoughts. “Ariock will consider taking these lessons at a later date. We’ll see how it goes.”

That was a diplomatic answer. Kessa could guess the truth. It was rather obvious.

Ariock was depressed.

Frost blistered the window panes. Snow covered the rooftops of the city. Dead critters, such as lizards and tiny snakes, hinted that the unrelenting grimness outside was supernatural rather than seasonal. Ariock did a few duties, such as mass-teleporting troops and volunteers to places where they were needed. He imported and exported cargo.

Other than that? He was doing far less than usual. He refused to join battles. He refused to even enter a battle zone.

Kessa had confronted Vy, begging to know why Ariock was so withdrawn. Vy had made excuses, but the truth was in her eyes. Not even she could lift Ariock’s dark mood.

Garrett stood, drawing the class’s attention away from the matter of their despondent Bringer of Hope.

“Firstly,” Garrett said, brusque, “let’s discuss how minds synthesize information.” He began to pace. “There’s perceptual data. There are neurochemical reactions, otherwise known as emotions. Perceptions plus emotions combine into abstractions, which—in sapient people and high level animals—can then be conducted into concretized thoughts and imaginings.”

Kessa had chatted with Thomas often enough to get a sense of how he perceived living beings. He said that every sapient mind was like a world unto itself. Thoughts and imaginings could become memories, if conditions were right. An accretion of memories, etched with runnels of individualized thought processes, comprised an individual’s personality.

“Now, let’s talk about our differences.” Garrett paced. “We are not the only sapient species in the galaxy.” He gestured around the room. “Besides ummins and govki and nussians and the humanoid species, there are Kemkorcan feather people, Toishifellan cave worms, Soghian water dwellers, and so forth. There’s even a sedentary species of intelligent tree-like people on Bemelglurd.”

Kessa blinked. She used to believe that she knew every sapient species, but nowadays, she knew better.

“The reason you don’t know about people who dwell in liquid or gaseous or high pressure environments,” Garrett went on, “is because the Torth rarely give them the major modifications their bodies would need in order to live full-time in the environments which we find habitable. They’re restricted to mining colonies or zoological facilities on their planets of origin.”

Kessa recalled the sad-eyed cave worms she had known, and she shivered. They claimed that breathing felt “wrong” to them. They had spoken of medical facilities and pain. In hindsight, she guessed that they must have undergone surgical operations before they got imported to New GoodLife WaterGarden City.

“Our species,” Garrett went on, gesturing between himself and the rest of the room, “experienced some convergent evolution. We’re all air-breathers. We all walk on land.” He paced. “We have different nutritional requirements, different reproduction, and different circadian rhythms. But thanks to the sound conductivity in our cradle worlds, we naturally evolved ears. Thanks to the fact that we evolved on planets with sunlight and a spectrum of color, we all evolved eyes.”

Kessa made a mental note to learn more about evolution. She might borrow a few books from Cherise, who had access to an Earth library or two. Varktezo also seemed to have access to a lot of books.

“However,” Garrett went on, “you will notice that ummins generally have superior eyesight, compared to the rest of us.”

The listeners exchanged awkward, uncomfortable glances.

“And nussians and govki tend to have a far superior sense of smell,” Garrett said. “They’ll scent things long before I can.”

More awkward glances.

“Nussians are sensitive to seismic activity,” Garrett said. “They’ll pick up tremors in the floor, and determine where and how far away. They also have impressive navigational abilities.”

Yuey, the sole nussian in the room, looked uncomfortable at being singled out.

“My point,” Garrett said, pacing back and forth in front of the big window, “is that I want you to be prepared to understand each other in new ways. Perceptions will be the most immediately obvious difference between the way you think and the way your friend thinks. You’ll soon become aware of differences in cognition, also. Some of us have better short-term memories. Some of us can subitize, or enumerate, more items in a glance than others. Some of us are quicker to recognize and control our emotions. Some of us can intuit things quicker than others. Differences are very varied and individual. No two people think alike.”

The three adolescent ummins fidgeted, as if they were considering excuses to leave. Maybe they were ashamed of sharing their personal advantages or flaws?

Garrett stopped and gave the whole room a stern look.

“I don’t care what new things you learn about your friends and neighbors. You might learn they have some weird sexual fetish, or a dark secret. I don’t care. Try to embrace the ummin philosophy of Gwat and withhold judgment.”

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

It took Kessa a moment to understand why Garrett was concerned. It was natural to measure oneself against others. Everyone in this room was about to gain a vastly different scale of measurement.

Would they gain new justifications for feeling inferior or superior to each other?

“In other words,” Garrett said, “please don’t turn into a bunch of Torth.”

The other students chuckled.

But Kessa didn’t think Garrett was joking. She used to assume the Torth were convinced of their own superiority because they wielded so much power. Now she knew that the Torth stole all of their advantages through violence. They robbed alien civilizations. What would cause a gang of thugs to feel eternally superior to their victims?

Well, the Torth were constantly reading minds. They measured one’s knowledge against another’s knowledge. They kept slaves in ignorance. Those were the minds they felt safe in ignoring.

Torth knew each other very well on a day to day basis. Why did they arrange themselves in a hierarchy, with the most self-aggrandizing Torth rising to the top, to influence all the rest? Perhaps it was because they could not help but compare their own minds against one another. They measured each other’s social influence.

Torth judged each other incessantly.

We are better than that, Kessa thought uneasily.

But plenty of people judged Thomas and the penitents without getting to know them.

The Code of Gwat was all about ignorance. Its main tenet was that one could not—should not—judge another person without comprehensive and intimate knowledge of their circumstances.

So what happened when one gained godlike knowledge?

Gwat never addressed that possibility.

“All right.” Garrett took his seat and rested his hand on the emitter. “Is everyone ready?”

Varktezo gave an eager, “Yes!” and everyone else uttered assent.

Garrett pressed a switch on the device. A button glowed, signifying that it was on.

A few people inhaled deeply, as if scenting fresh home-cooked meals.

Kessa knew, from conversations with Varktezo, that telepathy gas did not work by soaking into people’s bodies and penetrating the blood-brain barrier. It was not a neurotransmitter. Instead, it altered energies within the room, causing unnatural conditions which amplified brainwaves. Just as sound could travel further underwater than through air, thoughts could travel further through a dark energy matrix than through natural energy conditions. The thoughts grew in amplitude, allowing non-telepaths to perceive them.

Varktezo looked (Kessa saw herself) awestruck, beak agape.

People stared at each other (like broken shards of mirror) (kaleidoscopic) seeing (her) themselves (each other) so much.

The feeling of too much input quickly escalated.

Kessa was eighteen (or a thousand?) people. She had too many limbs, too many tongues. She was afraid to speak, because it would pour forth in a babble out of multiple mouths. Every time someone else (scratched an itch) (imagined a friend) (felt nauseous from the invasion of other people’s ideas), her mind echoed theirs. That made her afraid to even attempt to make the smallest of decisions.

She wanted to retract her spikes, but she didn’t have spikes. Her fur puffed out, but she didn’t have fur.

She regretted inviting so many people to these lessons.

Garrett’s mind stood out as the only one who wasn’t reeling with shock or confusion. His voice sounded sonorous, laden with an echo as it was perceived through multiple ears.

“Close your eyes.”

Kessa closed her eyes.

She knew when everyone else had shut their eyes, because it was a blessed relief. The cacophony was reduced.

“I want you to focus on your right hand,” Garrett’s voice intoned. “Don’t open your eyes. Just enjoy the sensation of having a right hand. Be aware of that hand, which is yours.”

At first, Kessa was aware of her own hand plus all the others. She felt the heft of the massive nussian hand that was Yuey’s. She felt natural dexterity of having two right hands, like Dyoot.

But those hands were clearly not hers.

After a while, Kessa was able to assure herself of which right hand belonged to her. It was the most familiar, the most obvious. She truly enjoyed having that sensation.

“Bodily autonomy is important,” Garrett said. “It’s probably the first thing a baby mind reader learns.”

Kessa remembered Torth sitting in lounges, their gazes faraway, with meshes encircling their brows. Now she understood why Torth liked to sit around doing nothing. It would be overwhelming to focus on someone else’s existence while walking or performing daily tasks.

“Familiarize yourself with your bodily boundaries,” Garrett suggested. “Just keep your eyes closed, and focus on the body that is yours; the only body under your control.”

Kessa was amazed by how much the lesson helped. She still perceived alien sensations, but the din was manageable, now.

She had her body. Others had theirs.

Is this really how he sees the world? Varktezo’s mental voice was obvious. His voice echoed his thoughts, causing an overlap effect. “Is this really how you see things? (I mean) All the time?”

“Yes,” Garrett said. “Except I’m not used to being in a room with, uh…” Kessa sensed him self-edit his thoughts, erasing terms such as demented and fledglings. “Mind readers I can actually trust,” he said. “It’s weird.”

Kessa sensed the veracity of his words. Garrett truly found it unnerving to be among mind readers who lacked the predictable nature of Torth.

Do you hear an echo? “…Echo?” Varktezo said, and then finished in his mind. …Every time someone speaks out loud?

Kessa winced. But she had been wondering the same. How could Garrett and Thomas stand to have conversations in spoken languages? It must be excruciatingly annoying and repetitive for them.

(Varktezo) “Varktezo, it’s rude to speak only in your mind.” Garrett sounded stern. (Some) “Some people missed what you asked. Repeat it out loud so everyone can hear it.”

Varktezo reluctantly did so. (Do you) “Do you hear an echo whenever people speak out loud?” (loud?)

Kessa heard the echo. It synced up closely, giving his words a hollow, sonorous timbre.

(Yes) “Yes,” Garrett said, his own voice likewise sonorous. (And yes) “And yes, it’s annoying, especially when there is a large gap between voice and thought.” (It’s just) “It’s just something to get used to.”

No wonder the Torth outlawed spoken speech. Now Kessa understood.

Amidst the general cacophony of random perceptions and thoughts, Kessa sensed a clear vibe from Varktezo. With this gas, I can learn so much more and faster! When will the Teacher (Thomas) let me read his mind???

Never, Garrett thought with a snort of derision.

A second later, Kessa sensed Garrett try to self-edit. But it was too late. Everyone in the room had overheard his opinion.

? Varktezo wanted clarification. In his opinion, mind reading was the fastest way to learn. Surely the Teacher would understand the need?

Garrett hesitated. Kessa sensed his thoughts turning over and stewing. She could not quite grasp what the old mind reader was hiding from the rest of them.

She leaned closer. Garrett’s mind had no shape or substance, yet it seemed to have a … a surface of some sort. A shield? A carapace? Whatever it was, Kessa sensed its texture, calm and swirling. There were inlets.

What if she chased that swirl of indecision deeper…?

(Stop) “Stop that, Kessa,” Garrett said. We’ll save mind probes for a (much later) lesson.

Braglem stared at Kessa in consternation. And Kessa realized, with a sick sense of shame, that she had been probing like a Torth.

“The boy (Thomas) is embarrassed,” Garrett said, trying to explain. “Because (he’s such a freak) he doesn’t have a normal mind.”

(Duh) “I know,” Varktezo said. (Everyone knows that.)

Kessa sensed unspoken depths within the exchange. Apparently, Varktezo had actually glimpsed Thomas’s mind once. That glimpse had drastically reshaped his conception of the boy whom he had begun to consider a friend. Now, as far as Varktezo was concerned, the Teacher was a god of knowledge.

“Well,” Garrett said, “good luck getting him to let you peer into his soul ever again.”

The conversation was making everyone else curious. Kessa kept her eyes closed, but she sensed other people glance at Garrett.

????????

“The boy (Thomas) presents himself as small and weak,” Garrett said, struggling to explain. “He counts on being perceived as (harmless) powerless. But…”

Kessa felt the anticipation in the room. It was like tremors.

(But) “I don’t think words can adequately describe what a super-genius is,” Garrett said. “It’s the sort of thing you have to experience. There’s a reason the Torth Empire put a lot of legal restrictions on people like him. They’re freaks.”

Garrett’s spoken tone was calm, whereas his thoughts writhed with fearful vehemence. Whenever he pictured “the boy,” he pictured a towering solar storm of inscrutable and godlike knowledge. Thomas’s face was just an incidental attachment to that terrifying galactic deity.

Kessa stared at Garrett. She had suspected that he feared Thomas, but now? She knew it. Garrett legitimately had trouble trusting the super-genius.

I need to sense the Teacher’s mind again, Varktezo thought with determination. I could learn so much this way!

“He won’t let you,” Garrett said. “He’s savvy enough to know that it’s a bad idea (to show) to show people the truth of what he’s capable of.”

Varktezo radiated frustration and secret hope. He clearly disagreed with Garrett.

“Sorry.” Garrett patted the emitter. “You’re stuck with me as your teacher for the foreseeable future. I wouldn’t count on the boy for this.” (Or for much of anything.)

There was that distrust again, strong and pungent.

Kessa considered how easily Thomas exposed his mind to the penitent population, as he vetted them. He was willing to share himself with fellow mind readers.

But not with ummins?

That wasn’t fair.

Both Varktezo and Garrett might have good points about Thomas. Kessa inwardly vowed to seek clarification with Thomas. As long as mind readers shared secrets with each other, excluding all other species, she would feel dissatisfied and inferior.

“All right,” Garrett said, his powerful voice and reassuring mind cutting through a babble of thoughts once again. “Let’s practice some more with tactile sensation. Close your eyes…”

The lesson resumed.

Kessa was alert and eager throughout the entire class. When it ended, she resolved to practice with a friend or two. She had mastered reading and writing, thanks to daily practice. She would master telepathy.

The chasm between herself and the penitents—and perhaps between herself and Thomas?—was going to close.