By the second day into the search for Thomas, Ariock was numb from ghosting so often. He was frozen dust and cosmic radiation. He was a vast nothingness.

He lost all of his other powers whenever he was disembodied, as well as his senses of smell and touch and taste. Colors were desaturated. It was like floating in a desensitization chamber. Except it was worse, because he had trouble holding onto his emotions and his train of thought.

His only breaks were to nap, to snack, and to take care of bodily needs. An average clairvoyant might manage five minutes per day. Ariock had superhuman endurance plus a nearly infinite reservoir of power, which empowered him to do ten minute stints again and again, for hours and hours and hours.

He began to fully recognize the torment which Evenjos had suffered.

He had not anticipated so much mental confusion and exhaustion from repeatedly maintaining a metaphysical, disembodied state. Even when he brought his body in order to inspect strange things—asteroids, space junk, objects shaped like asteroids—he had to be shielded by space armor. All he heard was his own breathing. All that he saw lacked color.

By his fourth day as a space ghost, Ariock began to doubt his own existence.

Was he really alive? Had his whole rise to power been nothing but a hallucinatory dream, or a fictional story in some ridiculous book?

After nightfall on the fifth day, Ariock snapped back to his body, as he automatically had to do every few minutes. Instead of casting himself out yet again, he removed his layers of armor until he wore nothing but underclothes. Then he lay on his bed like an invalid. He folded his hands on his chest.

He stared at shadows patterning the brushed quartz-and-bronze ceiling.

When he spent so much time in the void of deep space beyond the solar system of Reject-20, inspecting the parsecs around the nearest temporal stream gateway … a long, cold distance away … he tended to forget what he was searching for. That happened more and more often. Only when he returned to his body for a refreshing nap could he shake off the mental fog.

What if he forgot that he had a body waiting for him?

The tug of his mortal coil might just snap and break. Then he would be a disembodied ghost forever, unable to remember his own name, or who he used to be.

He was so exhausted, he did not even dream. There were no nightmares. His life had begun to resemble a nightmare.

He awoke gradually to delicious smells coming from the kitchen. Someone was cooking pancakes and toast.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t Vy. This chef hummed a pop song from Earth in a baritone voice.

Ariock rubbed sleep from his eyes. He got up, padded to the kitchen, and leaned in the archway with his arms folded.

Garrett was flipping a hearty omelet. His sleeves were rolled up, and he moved from one pan to another with practiced ease.

“Breakfast is almost served,” Garrett said.

Somehow, Ariock found it comforting to see his great-grandfather in a domestic setting. It reminded him that Garrett used to be a dad.

“Need any help?” Ariock asked.

“Nah, I’ve got it.” Garrett seemed to enjoy the act of cooking. He could have ordered a meal delivery, but instead, he was here, doing everything manually. He wasn’t even using his powers.

Well, except for a few things. Some ingredients poured themselves.

Soon they were seated across from each other, bathed in morning light that filtered through the keyhole-shaped window. The kitchen table was already set with utensils and plates.

“Mm.” Garrett took a bite of the omelet. “Those farmed avialans lay tasty eggs.”

Ariock sampled a piece of omelet, and nodded in approval.

“Have the rest.” Garrett gestured. “Ghosting drains you.”

That was true. Ariock was actually gaunt, and he now realized that he was famished. He ate the rest of the omelette, then pulled a stack of pancakes onto his plate.

“It’s all locally sourced.” Garrett sounded proud.

“Thanks for the meal.” Ariock poured syrup onto the pancakes. He didn’t need to read Garrett’s mind to understand why he merited a serious visit. Thomas’s absence was escalating into something worse than a temporary crisis. It meant the end of the war—and not in a good way.

Ariock wasn’t keeping up with the news, but he understood that the Torth were collectively growing bolder in their attacks, taunting the heroes, daring them to use some brilliant strategy. Hadn’t the Torth fully sacked and re-conquered Tempest Arena? They kept bombing CloudShadow MetroHub and other liberated cities on Nuss.

They were winning.

But this meal was a kindness. Ariock tried to enjoy it. The food tasted wonderful, the banded planet filled the sky, and sunlight danced on the ocean. He liked being alive and in his body.

“So.” Garrett blotted his mouth with a napkin, apparently done eating. “We can’t put it off any longer.”

The Megacosm.

Ariock imagined Garrett scanning for news—and the Torth Majority learning just how vulnerable Ariock was.

It was easy to imagine. Celebrations would break out in Torth-ruled cities across the galaxy. The enemy super-geniuses were probably just waiting for confirmation that Thomas was being delivered into their custody. As soon as they knew for sure? They would slam all of Ariock’s cities with insanity gas and telepathy gas.

It would be the end of freedom.

“Not yet,” Ariock said.

“The Torth must know by now.” Garrett simultaneously rolled his eyes and thumped the table. “Think about it from their perspective. They know you’ve stopped mass-teleporting. They can guess that I’ve stopped spying in the Megacosm, since they were able to recapture an entire city. You can be sure they’ve scanned minds and learned what’s new on our side. It all adds up to the boy missing.”

That might be so.

Garrett had become a lone bulwark against full-scale invasions on Umdalkdul and Nuss and even Earth. And without using the Megacosm, Garrett might as well be blind.

None of the penitents would offer so much as a guess as to who had taken their Conqueror. A few told wild tales. They claimed that Thomas was fully Torth. They said that he had gone rogue, or that he was rejoining the Torth Empire. But those claims were plain nonsense. They had to be.

“The fastest streamship travels at half the speed of light,” Garrett growled. “If the boy is trapped aboard that stolen ship, they’ll be at the temporal stream any day now. Any hour. From there, they can go anywhere in the known universe!”

Ariock did not need the reminder. Someone had stolen a streamship from the Freedomland spaceport on the night of Thomas’s mysterious battle and disappearance. The lurking brainwasher had not struck since then. It all amounted to dark implications. Had the brainwasher absconded with Thomas in that stolen ship?

Or worse. What if there was a grain of truth in what the penitents said? Thomas might be acting under nefarious orders, no longer in control of his own destiny. He might have gotten brainwashed. What if he’d been forced to unwittingly fly straight into the open arms of the Torth Empire?

“Torth are waiting for him,” Garrett said darkly. “They’ve got clusters of ships camped out near the temporal stream. I know you’ve noticed.”

Ariock reached for a generous helping of french toast. “There are lone Torth in shuttles all over our solar system.”

Garrett’s jaw dropped.

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“They’re not a threat.” Ariock tensed up, aware that Garrett would probe his mind, and that he tended to overreact. “I’m worried that Thomas could be in any one of them. I keep checking.”

“Agh!” Garrett jumped off the stool, too outraged to sit still. “Are you saying we have an invasion fleet on our doorstep? Why the devil haven’t you told me?”

Ariock shrugged and went back to eating. “They’re not an invasion fleet.”

“They’re gunships!” Garrett began to argue.

“They’re tiny vessels.” Ariock knew what a space threat looked like. He had once hurled the largest tower in the known universe at a Torth armada. “There are no dreadnoughts or battleships. They’re minimally armed. They could be mistaken for rocks.”

“Well, you’ve got to kill them.” Garrett made it sound like an obvious conclusion. “Make sure they’re not the boy. Then teleport and destroy them, one by one.”

“No,” Ariock said.

Garrett’s eye twitched.

“It’s possible they’re renegades seeking our protection,” Ariock explained tiredly.

Garrett looked as if he was sizing up an insane opponent. “Renegades?”

“Yes,” Ariock said. “A couple of those vessels look scientific. There are slaves inside. I think they might be the Twins, coming here to take Thomas’s offer and join us.”

Garrett looked pained.

“I’m not going to murder possible allies,” Ariock said. “Thomas wouldn’t want that.”

He made himself sound certain, but inwardly, he feared that Garrett was right. Garrett kept being right. After all this time, Ariock had yet to see a renegade other than the Upward Governess.

Most of those lone shuttles were stocked with food and potable water, and they were cloaked, or disguised as asteroids. Each contained a single Torth. They were likely just waiting for Ariock to fail, so they could attack Freedomland like a bunch of sharks.

He didn’t like it.

But he wasn’t going to start an unnecessary battle, especially right now. The Torth Empire loomed like a storm on the horizon. Any one of the Torth militarized fleets could swarm through the temporal stream network and then crush the nascent space fleet captained by Fayfer.

“If the Torth get the boy,” Garrett said, “then all your stupid kindness won’t matter. If they take him into that temporal stream, they can take him literally anywhere. And then we’re screwed!”

Ariock nodded. That was the deadline. They needed to find Thomas before he could vanish forever.

He just didn’t want to admit that he felt worn down.

Or that the search seemed futile.

“The problem is,” Ariock said, “I have a nearly infinite area to search.” He held his hands apart to demonstrate, still holding a fork in one hand. “It’s two parsecs from here to the temporal stream. I’ve searched that distance in a straight line; no problem. But I didn’t see any ships along that route. They’re not traveling in a straight line.”

“Of course not.” Garrett climbed back onto one of the tall stools that Ariock kept for guests. The old man had probably ghosted through the same area, although clairvoyance was far more draining for him than it was for Ariock. He did not have nearly as much raw power.

“They might be here, here, here, or here.” Ariock indicated by moving his oversized fork all around the imaginary fixed path. “They might be way out here.” He held his opposite hand beneath the temporal stream gate, then behind it. “Or here.” He held the fork in the opposite direction, far from the gate.

“I get what you’re saying.” Garrett gazed out the window, at colorful rooftop canopies and herb gardens. “Every minute the boy is gone, the area we have to search expands exponentially.”

Ariock nodded. He might be powerful enough to destroy a planet, but even his sphere of influence had limits. On a galactic scale, even when he went fully titanic, he was actually quite small.

“And all those little ships out there are dark,” Ariock explained. “They look like rocks at a distance. Once I found one that had a life spark inside?” He laughed without humor. “I realized I would have to investigate every single asteroid in order to determine if it’s a ship or not.”

“Oh.” Garrett sounded sympathetic at last. “Crap. You are really doing a lot of work.”

“I am,” Ariock acknowledged. “I’ve been teleporting. With space armor. With air tanks.” He drank juice from a decanter. “That’s the only way I can detect them.”

“You’re searching for a needle in a haystack,” Garrett said in a tone of realization. “Except it’s a haystack larger than a solar system.”

“Much larger,” Ariock said.

“Well, the boy has to be somewhere.” Garrett flung a hand skyward, indicating space.

Ariock agreed. But what more could he do? If Thomas was in that stolen ship, it must be cloaked and floating in some unpredictable place. Ariock had already investigated thousands of random asteroids. He might be too exhausted to even recognize Thomas, if he ever found him.

“Let me check the Megacosm.” Garrett looked beseeching. “It’s possible they know something we haven’t even guessed at.”

Ariock felt constricted. He had so few options.

Garrett clasped Ariock’s hand. “We cannot win if the boy shows up on the Torth side. If they get him, then it’s game over.”

That was undeniable.

“Besides,” Garrett said, “what if he’s critically injured? What if he needs immediate help? We have to take the risk.”

Ariock had seen footage of the carnage found in Thomas’s sleeping chamber. Thomas had taken a lot of precautions simply in order to sleep, yet even so, an attacker had tried hard to kill him. For all anyone knew, the attacker had succeeded.

“I’ll be stealthy.” Garrett folded his hands on the table, earnest. “I can pop in and out without sharing much of what we know.”

Ariock glanced at his wealth of furnishings. He slept fearlessly in a palace. He lived well. Meanwhile, what was Thomas enduring right now?

If Thomas was free to return, he would have done so. Everyone knew that.

Was Ariock just finding yet another excuse to avoid battle and responsibility?

“All right.”

The go-ahead spilled out of Ariock. He wasn’t sure he was ready. But when he imagined Thomas alone and scared, and possibly injured or brainwashed … well, wasn’t any risk worth taking?

He would just have to prepare for armageddon while he was at it.

“Thank you.” Garrett closed his eyes.

Ariock sat back and watched the old man’s face. He yearned for good advice. Garrett could not offer advice on Thomas’s level, but maybe he would be able to provide a useful hint? A direction in which to search?

The tranquil morning sky blackened with sudden clouds.

Hailstones began to pummel rooftops and plazas in a furious staccato. Lightning flashed. The storm came so fast, goose bumps broke out over Ariock’s skin. He would have involuntarily popped out his spikes if he were a nussian.

“TRAITOR!” Garrett leaped to his feet. “HE’S A TRAITOR!”

Ariock surged to his feet and seized his great-grandfather, trying to slow him down and make him explain. Thomas was too good for the Torth Empire. He would never join them.

“He IS a Torth!” Garrett whirled to meet Ariock’s gaze. “He’s a full-blooded damned Torth! He’s the real deal!”

“Slow down, please.” Ariock made his deep voice reassuringly gentle. “What did you hear?”

“Agh!” Steam rose off Garrett’s skin. He was so furious, he was fluctuating the air temperature around his body. “Both of the boy’s parents were Torth!” He slammed his fist into his palm repeatedly, emphasizing each statement. “His mother? Was a Servant of All. And his father? Was also a damned Servant of All!”

Thomas had a father? Ariock stared at Garrett, perplexed.

Anyway, since when did the Torth Majority concern themselves with family gossip? This didn’t sound like typical Torth news. Garrett must have misinterpreted the mental chatter.

Or… could it be a deliberate lie? Was that possible?

Either way, there was a miscommunication.

Garrett rose in the air, lifted on a wave of power. Plates and cups floated.

“HE! IS! A! TORTH!” Garrett screamed in Ariock’s face.

Ariock jerked back, but Garrett seized him.

“It’s not a lie, and it’s not a mistake.” Garrett drew breath, obviously struggling to regain control of his emotions. Tableware clattered down. The hailstorm outside became a flood-like downpour. “The lurking brainwasher,” Garrett said, “was the boy’s biological father. Never mind that for now! The point is that he betrayed us!”

“Who?” Ariock felt as if he was struggling to keep up with a madman.

“The boy!” Garrett said explosively. “He left us! He deliberately ran away and left us!”

“What?” Ariock couldn’t believe that.

“Believe it!” Garrett snapped. “There’s no other logical explanation! He stole that streamship on his own and left us!”

“I don’t—”

“He gave up on us!” Garrett yelled. “He’s GONE. He ABANDONED US.”

Ariock tried to prioritize his questions. Very little of Garrett’s ravings made sense to him. Had Thomas discovered his biological father? Okay, but if so, why would that cause Thomas to flee the safe haven he’d made for himself here? Why would Thomas purposely hurtle into the dangers of the Torth-ruled galaxy?

Could Thomas really be a fully biological Torth?

Ariock tried to swat away that painful question as unimportant and inconsequential, but it reeled through his mind like a wrecking ball. Certain details about Thomas began to gel, and to make sense in a more coherent way.

Thomas lacked the titanic power of a human hybrid. Because he wasn’t actually a human hybrid.

The Torth Empire had originally welcomed Thomas with open arms. Their eldest super-genius, the Upward Governess, had vouched for him. So had the Torth Majority. All of the smartest and savviest mind readers in the galaxy had conferred, and unanimously agreed that Thomas had exemplary Torth qualities.

Thomas had always been unapologetic about his Torth tendencies.

He had a way of going emotionless and knowing everything. He even considered himself to be one of the penitents.

“He’s a Torth.” Ariock spoke softly, trying to get used to the disturbing idea.

He hoped it wasn’t true. He wasn’t sure why. Couldn’t he handle a minor adjustment to the identity of his friend? A little factoid didn’t really change anything. Did it?

It changed everything.

Many liberated slaves respected humans, and they considered Thomas to be an honorary human. Once they found out that Thomas had unshakable familial ties to the hated mind readers who used to rule them … there would be a lot more assassination attempts.

Many Alashani barely tolerated the rekveh strategist who advised the war council. Premiers and councilors would take this as proof that Thomas had turned traitor. They would react like Garrett.

Evenjos? She would equate Thomas with Unyat. She would never trust a full-blooded Torth.

As for Ariock himself…

He’s still the same person he always was, Ariock assured himself. That had to be true.

But then why had Thomas run away?

Why would he voluntarily abandon the good guys?

“I’ll show you the whole thing.” Garrett was still fuming. “Come with me to the telepathy gas classroom. I’ll show you exactly what happened.”

Ariock hesitated.

He needed to experience whatever had triggered Garrett. He needed enlightenment. Yet at the same time, he worried that enlightenment would cause something like a storm surge in himself and his friends.

And what had the news done to the Torth Empire?

Whether Thomas had been kidnapped or had actually run away, wouldn’t the Torth rally a massive manhunt? They would surely try to grab the wayward super-genius before Ariock and his friends could do so.

Thomas was likely in more trouble than he’d ever been. Everyone in the known universe would want to capture or kill him.

“All right, all right.” Ariock fended off Garrett’s tugs. “You can show me.”

Garrett was full of grim triumph. “You’ll see why we can’t trust him. He’s running to the Torth Empire right now!”

Ariock doubted that. Thomas might have run away. That was crazy and hard to believe, but if that really was the case, well … then maybe…

“Maybe he didn’t feel safe here,” Ariock said with dawning realization.