Kessa shaded her eyes to watch the sky croc circle the Academy. It landed with practiced grace on the Dragon Tower and crawled inside. No one ever went up there anymore. Azhdarchidae was left alone to roost, waiting for Thomas.

I miss him too, Kessa thought to the distant animal.

She made her way into the science annex. People greeted her with surprised reverence. She asked for Varktezo, and soon they were in a closed door office with a spectacular view of the city.

“How are you, these days?” Kessa sat across from the adolescent.

Varktezo adjusted his goggles over his brow ridges. Despite his white lab coat, he looked rumpled and harried.

“Oh, I’m fine.” Varktezo said it in a way that made her question sound ludicrous. “Other than the fact that we’re facing certain death without Thomas.”

Kessa clicked her beak. Just how demoralized were the lab technicians?

“I’ve got a battalion of shy assistants trying to wrangle shani warriors into clinical trials,” Varktezo went on. “None will volunteer because they don’t trust anything the Twins have invented. And guess what? The Twins are not as easy to work with as Thomas, plus everyone is afraid to even talk to them. So my own assistants won’t vouch for them. Oh, and half of the technicians are fooling around with telepathy gas at work, so they’re forgetting to leave written messages. And the people I assign to keep them organized keep failing, and I feel like no one truly wants to help.”

He compressed his beak and looked stern.

Then he accidentally broke his somber mood by sipping a neon orange energy drink.

“I’m sorry.” Kessa wondered if she should have asked someone else to work with the Twins. Varktezo had seemed eager for the job when she’d asked him, but then again, he tended to be eager no matter what. “If you don’t think you can oversee the Twins, I—”

“No, no!” Varktezo cut her off. “I like the Twins. I want to continue working with them.”

She cocked her head, inviting further explanation.

“They’re just different from Thomas, that’s all,” Varktezo said. “They take getting used to. They’re weird and creepy. But brilliant! I think we are very lucky to have them on our side.”

“And they have provided boons?” Kessa asked, probing.

“Oh, yes,” Varktezo said. “They’ve greatly improved our communications network. Have you noticed that there’s no longer any lag in intergalactic live streams? They explained that although time is relative, there is a quantum matrix of ‘now’ which exists as a…” He saw that he was losing her interest, and switched topics. “And our targeting systems are perfected, thanks to the Twins. We won’t have to send as many pilots into danger. They’ve keyed up—”

“What about immunity to the gasses?” Kessa broke in.

Varktezo took a deep breath, as if bracing himself.

“I’m not a molecular biochemist,” he said. “But they’ve made great progress. Our lab had been honing in on a particular set of ribosomes for several kilohours, trying to identify how they influence the neural gamma waves, because that’s what determines the intensity of an individual’s sphere of…” He saw Kessa’s impatience, and cut to the chase. “Anyway. Bam!” He pounded his hands together. “They solved it in two hours. That’s all it took them.”

Kessa wondered if she understood correctly. “Okay. This was a project which you and Thomas have been working on for a few, er, kilohours?” She stopped herself from saying “blinks of Morja.” Every cosmic body had a different rotation and orbit, which made months impossible to correlate across planets. The Freedomland Academy had developed a universal way to measure time. One kilohour was actually a bit less than a month on Umdalkdul and Reject-20, and it was more than a month on Earth and Nuss, but it was roughly a month.

“Right,” Varktezo confirmed. “We would have gotten it eventually, but we’re not in synergy like the Twins.”

“Synergy?”

“It’s hard to explain,” Varktezo said. “If you ask the Twins, they’ll make it sound like they just accidentally happen to have a wider baseline of knowledge than anyone else, because of their age and their mutations. But it’s definitely more than that. They’re pulling from here and here and here and here.” Varktezo made grabbing motions at different spots in the air. “And they test those things against each other, and integrate everything that makes sense. I don’t actually understand how they work. But it’s intimidating to watch.” He shrugged. “To be honest, if I was the Torth Empire, I would be terrified.”

That was heartening to hear.

“Predictive models indicate that their version of immunity will work,” Varktezo said. “Oh, and guess what? They casually invented a temporary version of the inhibitor. Has anyone told you about that?”

Kessa had heard a rumor. “Go on.”

“It’s a patch.” Varktezo mimed sticking something onto his neck. “Just a skin patch, like a band-aid. You put it on, and it inhibits your powers. Peel it off, and you’re a full Yeresunsa again.” He chuckled. “The Bringer of Hope was super interested. He asked us to manufacture a bunch of them, custom-sized for him. I imagine it would be very useful in scouting Torth-dominated planets!”

“Hm.” Kessa imagined it would useful in a variety of situations. “But they’re still working on immunity?”

“They’re getting close.” Varktezo threw his hands wide. “Why don’t you just talk to them yourself?”

“I will,” Kessa said. “First? I want your uncensored opinion. Do you have any reservations about them?”

She took Varktezo’s report the same way she interviewed any of her lieutenants. She tried to get a sense of whether the Twins were capable of friendship. That was her goal. She listened, not only to Varktezo’s praise for his new underling colleagues, but also to his inflections and body language.

“I’m ready to meet them,” Kessa said.

“Great!”

Varktezo led her towards a large underground laboratory in the basement levels of the Academy. This was the Twins’ home, where they slept and ate and worked, safe from the eyes of the Torth Empire.

“I posted a schedule of caretakers for them.” Varktezo indicated a bulletin board with photos of ummins and govki pinned in a certain order. “But they’re begrudging. I have to keep firing and hiring new ones.”

“I will send you a work pool of reliable caretakers.” Kessa knew that she had overlooked that detail. The Twins were as physically disabled as Thomas used to be. Thanks to Ariock, they had a supply of NAI-13 from Earth, but daily injections of medicine could only arrest their physical deterioration. It could not undo a lifetime of neuromuscular damage.

The Twins probably wanted to be as able-bodied as Thomas. But Evenjos, Ariock, and Garrett were too busy holding disasters at bay to take off a week for intensive regeneration healing.

Two weeks, actually. Each Twin would need it.

Kessa wished there was another solution.

She followed Varktezo through a vault door. Soon she stood on a wraparound balcony, able to peer down at the round workspace below.

The Twins floated at opposite workstations, back to back. They sat in close proximity. Their movements complemented each other in strange ways, hinting that they were of one mind.

The girl Twin used a robotic arm to drop some kind of liquid into a mysterious machine. The boy Twin paused in the middle of entering data, like he was listening. When the boy Twin resumed typing, the girl Twin completed her action with more surety.

“They’re like that all the time.” Varktezo kept his voice down. “They don’t need to talk to each other.”

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Kessa descended the ramp. “May I interrupt your work for a few minutes?” She did not want to seem ungrateful or rude, since this pair of renegades had already gifted her people with scientific leaps.

Both Twins swiveled to face her, one on either side.

“Sure,” Mondoyo said.

Kessa boosted herself onto a countertop, so she could face them at eye level. Her distance might seem like paranoia, but she was entrusted with sensitive military secrets, after all.

“First of all,” Kessa said, “thank you for your scientific help. You should have received thanks from Ariock and everyone on the war council.”

Serette gave an imperious nod.

Mondoyo looked embarrassed. “We haven’t done much, yet. It would be really helpful if we could match ideas with Thomas. I’m sure if he were here, we would be able to present immunity to the inhibitor by now.”

That was a heavy hint. Like everyone in the galaxy, the Twins wanted to know when Thomas would return.

It was a perilous topic. Anything Kessa said might give the Twins a hint that Thomas’s reputation was disgraced, and what conclusions might they draw from that? How welcome would they feel, as renegade super-geniuses themselves?

She didn’t want to stir that stew.

“I would like to know what obstacles you face,” Kessa said, “in terms of rectifying the gaseous weapons which you invented. Are there any resources you need?” She gestured around the lab. “Anything that would make it easier for you to invent immunity?”

“No.” Mondoyo shook his head.

Serette glared at him.

“Okay,” Mondoyo said in a relenting tone. “We understand that regeneration healing is a lot to ask for. Maybe too much? But neither of us is in great health. Especially Serette. We’re very grateful for the supply of NAI-13 Ariock gave us, but it’s not enough at this stage in our lives. Would the heroes be willing to schedule a week in order to gift Serette with a future?”

Kessa hesitated. She could ask, but she already knew the answer. Evenjos had gifted Thomas due to her own guilt about the way she had mistreated him. That would not be the case with the Twins.

Ariock might pressure the other two into regeneration healing for Serette if he caught a break; if the war turned around and the heroes began to win again.

That might happen if they gained immunity to the gaseous weapons.

But until then…? Kessa shook her head. The Twins had reaped disgrace by inventing weapons of mass destruction. They still had amends to make. They were asking for a privilege which they had yet to earn.

“We need immunity to the gasses,” Kessa stated.

Mondoyo and Serette nodded. They understood the unspoken pressure.

“When we do invent immunity…” Mondoyo studied Kessa with a piercing Blue Rank gaze. “Immunity to the inhibitor will change the course of civilizations. It will change the dynamics of the war, for certain. We want to be sure you understand the implications.”

“I have given it thought,” Kessa replied. Yeresunsa would become all but invincible. What would that do to the egos of Alashani war heroes?

“On the Torth Empire side of things,” Mondoyo said, “Rosies and Servants will realize that they no longer have to capitulate to the Majority. Many may go rogue. That is likely to break the Megacosm into competing tyrannies. It will send a lot of Torth fleeing here, to Thomas’s side.”

Break the Megacosm.

Right.

Kessa doubted that the Twins could accomplish what she and Thomas could not. True, her people were unequipped to handle a massive influx of Torth allies. That was painfully obvious. But it wasn’t worth worrying about. If the Torth Empire burst at the seams and died? Ha, a few growing pains in the free cities would be insignificant in comparison to the galactic victory celebrations.

Kessa slid off the counter and brushed off her tunic. “I have heard that you need Yeresunsa volunteers for clinical trials. I will make sure that you gain some.”

“Thank you.” Mondoyo looked shy. “All we really want is for Thomas to return. From what we’ve gathered, he’s gone on a sabbatical, or a holiday? Or something?”

His probing tone sounded innocent. But Kessa suspected the Twins had guessed the truth by now.

“If anyone can get a message to him,” Mondoyo said, “I really think he would want to know that we’re here.”

Kessa wished it were that easy. She hid her sadness. “If I can pass along your message,” she said, “I will.”

She began to walk towards the spiral ramp, to leave.

“So,” Mondoyo said in a colder, higher-pitched tone. “He ran away.”

Kessa paused and turned back, meeting the accusatory stare of Serette.

“We don’t know,” she admitted.

Mondoyo looked abashed. “We’re just worried. The people of this scientific establishment have treated us very kindly, and we’re comfortable. But …” He cringed, as if afraid to go on.

“Please,” Kessa invited. “What is it?”

“I did not quite expect so much isolation,” Mondoyo said, his tone ashamed. “I detect a lot of mistrust, and it is not just because of what we did. It is because of what we are.” He included Serette and himself in his gesture. “We thought that Thomas was bridging the gap between renegade Torth and liberated slaves? But it is plain that many people have a moral problem with Thomas. They’re afraid of him. So they’re afraid of us.” He swallowed.

Then he added in Serette’s tone of voice, “People in your city have tried to murder him.”

Kessa felt an unfamiliar sense of shame about her own people. She nodded, acknowledging the truth of it. “The Majority of Torth sometimes make unwise decisions, rooted in fear. It is the same with former slaves. We have our own majority, I suppose.”

Mondoyo studied her. “You do not follow your majority?”

Kessa shook her head. “Never. Not even when I was slave.”

“Thomas worked closely with you,” Mondoyo observed. “He trusted you.”

Kessa thought of Thomas agreeing to answer any question she asked, any time. She thought of their private meals together. “He did.”

“Then I will trust you,” Mondoyo said impulsively. “So I will tell you this: Thomas should be everyone’s top priority. You will not win this war without him.”

Kessa raised her brow ridges. Mondoyo had not said anything which she had not thought, herself. But it was rare to hear it stated so irrefutably.

“Sorry.” Mondoyo hunched his shoulders in shame. “I should not presume to tell you your job.”

“You have never met Thomas in person,” Kessa said. “What makes you so certain?”

Mondoyo gaped, as if she had said something nonsensical. Then he looked chagrined. “You’re right,” he said to Serette, presumably for Kessa’s benefit. “She asked a scientific question.” He focused on Kessa. “Thomas keeps figuring out things no one else has ever figured out. From your perspective, it must look normal? But I think a mind like his only comes along once in a thousand generations. Everything he’s accomplished is incredible.” Mondoyo gestured around.

“He has done a lot,” Kessa agreed.

“I really want to meet him!” Mondoyo said. “I want to learn how, exactly, he outwitted the Upward Governess. And the Death Architect! He could have tied her in knots, if Ariock hadn’t fallen for her bait!”

The boy Twin seemed unaware that he just insulted the messiah and de facto ruler of the free galaxy. He kept praising Thomas in an excited rush.

“He outwitted the Torth Majority not just once, but multiple times. He’s set up a situation where he might actually topple the Torth Empire! And what resources did he have to start with? Nothing! He had absolutely nothing! He didn’t even own a slave!”

Kessa supposed that was a fair assessment.

“He was raised by primitives!” Mondoyo said in Serette’s higher pitch. Then he looked mortified, and he quickly said, “Um, we mean humans. Sorry. We don’t mean to be insulting. It’s just, um, they have a different level of technology.”

Kessa had little patience for euphemisms. “Yes.”

“He cured his own illness,” Mondoyo said in a haughty Serette tone of voice. “Even before he wrangled healing from ultra-powerful Yeresunsa, using ancient and long-forgotten knowledge, he invented a way to live to adulthood. He pioneered new paths into taboo sciences.”

Kessa nodded, acknowledging the truth of that.

“Anyone who wants to kill him is an idiot!” Mondoyo said.

Serette nodded.

“He just runs right over obstacles,” Mondoyo went on. “He doesn’t let anything stop him.” His face was flushed. “Do you realize how amazing that is?”

Kessa made a guess. “You came here in order to meet Thomas?”

Mondoyo dipped his head and raised his shoulders in defense. “Yes,” he admitted. “We value freedom, and that’s why we’re here. But…” He shrugged helplessly. “We really, really want to meet the Conqueror.”

Kessa missed Thomas more than ever. He ought to be here.

“I’m sure, with his help,” Mondoyo said, “we would conquer the Torth Empire right away, and probably do a lot more good. We just need to meet him.”

“Well,” Kessa said, “if you have any insights about where Thomas might have gone? Please tell me.”

“Earth,” Mondoyo said promptly.

He sounded so certain, Kessa gave him a demanding look.

“We don’t know for sure,” Mondoyo admitted. “But given the facts we do know? We’ve calculated greater than seventy percent odds that he went to his planet of birth. For closure.”

Kessa figured she would share that conjecture with Ariock.

“He likely avoided his home region,” Mondoyo added in the higher pitched tone of Serette. “And he can blend in easily with humans. He likely made himself difficult to find.”

“Thank you.” Kessa nodded to the Twins, making sure she included the silent one. “You’ve been very helpful.”

“If you want him back,” Mondoyo said in the high, cold voice of Serette, “then you must change the hatred against him.”

That was obvious, at least to Kessa. But why did the girl Twin make it sound like it was Kessa’s personal responsibility? Surely it was an impossible task for any one person to accomplish. An elderly ummin could not change the minds of billions of people.

“Do you have any suggestions?” Kessa dared to ask.

The Twins exchanged a quick glance that was fraught with unspoken meaning.

“It is within your power,” Mondoyo said in the arrogant voice of his partner.

Kessa had never thought so. She knew that she was no hero. She was an administrator, not someone who changed the course of history.

But perhaps…

Well, perhaps she had gotten off-course, along with everyone else?

The penitent program was conceived as a reversal of the Torth Adulthood Exam. Those who passed the rigors of atonement were supposed to earn freedom. They would shed the stigma of being penitents and gain new status as full members of society.

Why wasn’t Thomas a shining example of that?

He had done penance and atoned, to Kessa’s satisfaction. He ought to be fully accepted as a member of society.

Except Kessa had never publicly announced that he had earned redemption.

She had not celebrated it. She had not set any criteria for redemption. She had not officially codified a way for any penitent to become something more than a penitent. Like everybody else, Kessa had assumed that Thomas was half-human and therefore … well, automatically better than … the penitent Torth.

But that wasn’t true.

He was a Torth.

There ought to be a way for society to recognize and value mind readers who transformed into full allies. There should be a ceremony. A new term for redeemed mind readers, perhaps? Even the Alashani might be taught to value them as fellow humanoids.

“I will think on it.” Kessa walked away, her mind and heart full of new ideas.