Vy stretched and yawned. The sky was a cerulean baby blue swept with dramatic gold-tinged clouds.

She disentangled herself from Ariock’s arm, using the iron spike as a handle. Her cheeks heated with a pleasurable remembrance of last night.

Dew melted where the morning sun shone. She adjusted her braids and frowned at the campfire. How was it still crackling? Hadn’t it sputtered to embers last night?

A stranger sat on a low rock by the campfire.

Vy squeaked in surprise.

He wore a round cap trimmed in fur, a striped wool kaftan, and fur-trimmed leggings. A large bird perched on his gloved and padded forearm. The eagle was at least the size of the stranger’s torso. Its bronze feathers were fluffed to ward off the morning chill, but its golden eyes tracked every move Vy made.

She took a closer look at the stranger’s face. “Thomas?”

Vy struggled to comprehend. He looked different. Tanned, and also more confident or something. She was so used to seeing Thomas in a white lab coat, or in drab woolens, floating in a dark corner, her mind wanted to argue with this whole situation.

“Freedom empanadas.” Thomas held up an unmarked frozen food package that clearly came from Ariock’s gear. “Are these stuffed with cliff hopper meat?”

Vy rubbed sleep from her eyes. “Uh, I think so.” Cliff hoppers were indigenous to Reject-20 and easy to farm. Their meat tasted like chicken.

“Mind if I share your breakfast?” Thomas asked. “I’ll do the cooking.”

He no longer sounded childish. His voice had deepened to an adolescent timbre.

“Sure,” Vy said.

The eagle flapped a bit, then settled, as Thomas balanced thawing empanadas on rotisserie forks. He rested the forks against rocks, perfectly balanced.

Vy felt like she was watching a different person, not the foster brother she used to take care of. He moved so easily. Maybe he was relying on his powers? That would explain the campfire, anyway.

He must be draining himself constantly in order to go unnoticed by Torth agents on Earth.

Ariock stirred awake and sat up. He followed Vy’s gaze to Thomas. “Hey.”

“Hi, Ariock,” Thomas said.

As if nothing was awkward. As if this was just a normal outing.

The air seemed fraught with unvoiced caution. Ariock and Thomas had a lot to say to each other, and they must be afraid of driving the other away.

“Want any water?” Ariock asked.

“I’m good,” Thomas said. “I have a canteen.”

Ariock gathered the blankets and relocated himself next to Vy at the campfire. Thomas made no complaint about the fact that they both sat beyond his telepathy range. He seemed content to not read their minds. He looked comfortable, cross-legged with his eagle, letting the empanadas cook.

“You look well,” Ariock said.

“So do you,” Thomas said. “It’s good to see you two. It’s weird—I didn’t sense your sphere of influence at all.” He looked at Ariock quizzically. “And I figured it would take at least another week for you to find me.”

Ariock looked like he was about to brag about the temporary inhibitor patch. But then he heard the implication in Thomas’s words. “You knew we would come here?”

“I figured you would search.” Thomas stroked his eagle’s head. The bird’s eyes went half-lidded in pleasure. “And you’re tenacious. Heh. Or rather, Garrett is tenacious. He must have searched tirelessly for weeks.” He glanced up at the clouds, as if to acknowledge an invisible listener. “I guess he’s here, too. Hey, Garrett.”

“I told him to stay away.” Ariock sounded defensive.

“Uh huh.” Thomas sounded skeptical.

That was fair. Garrett tended to lie, and he might even lie to Ariock. If Garrett was invisibly here, eavesdropping on their conversation, none of them would know it. Mind readers could not detect disembodied minds unless the clairvoyant ghost was right on top of them.

“Well anyway,” Thomas said, “I’m glad for your visit. It’s nice to see you.”

Vy faced her foster brother across heat-bent air. When would one of them break the ice and talk about something important?

This felt similar to the first time they had ever met. Vy had been there, in the sky room, when Ariock was afraid to move, afraid to accidentally emphasize his size in front of strangers. And her foster brother had gone ahead and blurted Ariock’s fears out loud. But he had also shared his own secret, his own deep vulnerability, in order to put the giant at ease.

Vy didn’t want to scare Thomas away now. She searched for a nonthreatening conversation opener.

“You made a new friend.” She gestured to the eagle.

“Yep.” Thomas smiled with fondness. “I think I have an affinity with animals.” He stroked the bird, smoothing its feathers. “I’ve trained her to be my extra eyes and report back to me. That’s how I found you.”

“Oh.” Vy privately doubted that Thomas had effortlessly trained a full-grown eagle in a matter of weeks. He might have jumpstarted that training with his power of suggestion.

“You’re not using surveillance drones?” Ariock asked.

“Nope,” Thomas said. “I didn’t bring any alien tech. I wanted to see how little I needed to get by alone.”

Vy nearly asked him why. She stopped herself, because it might come out like an accusation.

She couldn’t think of a tactful way to broach the topic of his abandonment. She settled for the simplest and purest truth. “I missed you.”

Thomas’s smile was wan.

And bitter.

“Everyone misses you.” Ariock’s deep voice startled a jerboa into racing away. “Especially me.”

Thomas did not look fond or pleased. His expression was cagey.

The eagle fluffed up as it watched the fleeing rodent. Thomas made a throwing gesture, and the eagle launched, flapping towards the jerboa.

Thomas painstakingly stood. He carried the hot empanadas away from the fire. His walking had improved so much, Vy was no longer sure if he wore leg braces under his pants or not.

He placed the breakfast on a rock, like an offering. “This is yours,” he told Ariock and Vy. “So you don’t need to come into my range.”

Did he think they were afraid of him?

Just because they’d learned that his biological parents were both Torth?

“I’m not afraid of having you reading my mind,” Ariock said, while Vy went to fetch the meal.

“I know.” Thomas went back to the fire and sat on his rock. “I’d just rather avoid overhearing your stress.” He nodded towards a clump of grass. “Mice are plenty of complexity for me to absorb right now. I don’t need to add any more.”

Was that a hint that he’d really needed this vacation?

Or was he telling them that he resented his most recent task of absorbing over a million penitent minds within a few days?

“Thomas…” Ariock hesitated. “I’m sorry for all that’s happened.”

Vy handed Ariock two empanadas and gave him an encouraging look. She sat down and nibbled a corner of her meal. Thomas was already digging into his.

Ariock went on. “I don’t care about your parentage. I don’t consider you a Torth.”

Thomas gave him a flat look. “You should care.”

Was that anger? Vy couldn’t quite read his expression.

“I just mean that I’m not defining you by your biological parents.” Ariock thought for a moment. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re human in all the ways that matter.”

Thomas regarded Ariock from across the fire. The position of his head made Vy think that he was disparaging.

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“I’m still your friend.” Ariock set aside his breakfast. He was trying hard. “So is Vy, and Kessa, and a lot of other people.”

“Mm hm.” Thomas ate his breakfast and said nothing else. His reaction was so neutral, it could have turned the sky gray.

“We all miss you.” Ariock did not quite plead for Thomas to return, but the note of despair was obvious. They needed the Wisdom of prophecy in order to win the war.

“I’m sure you do.” Thomas finished off the empanada with relish. “Well, I think it’s kind of you to come all the way out here, while your troops are left hanging, just to tell me how much you miss me. That’s nice. I appreciate the effort.” He dusted off his hands. “But I’m not coming back.”

Ariock looked as if he’d been attacked.

Vy felt shocked, too. Was this her foster brother? The Thomas she knew would never just up and quit. Not when so many people needed him.

“Eat your breakfast,” Thomas said invitingly. “Before my eagle steals an empanada.”

Ariock looked like he was searching for the right words.

Vy felt like she was witnessing a treatise between two nations. Ariock was good, and he was right. Meanwhile, Thomas was her rescuer as well as her foster brother. Surely they could come to a mutual understanding?

“Thomas.” She leaned forward. “We know that you’ve been treated unfairly. We talked about it a lot after you left. Ariock is making major changes.”

Ariock nodded, giving her a grateful look. “That’s right. People won’t be allowed to hold angry rallies against rekvehs anymore. I’ve tolerated the undergrounders more than enough. We’ll make sure no one attacks you.”

“That’s a nice sentiment.” Thomas’s tone was uncaring. “But it’s pointless.”

Ariock stared at him.

“If you stomp down on the undergrounders with laws, and enforcement for those laws,” Thomas explained, “you’ll come across like a tyrant and a brute. They’ll trust you less. And they’ll hate me as much as ever.”

Ariock frowned, as if stumped by a difficult problem.

Vy inwardly thought that Thomas might be right. The hatred against mind readers had very deep roots. People would try to assassinate Thomas no matter what laws existed, no matter how well they were enforced.

But why was Thomas letting that stop him?

The undergrounders schemed against an evil that only existed in their imaginations. Flen preached against an illusion. Surely Thomas knew that? He had never let haters or bullies stand in his way before.

“I’ll protect you,” Ariock said. “I promise. I’ll make sure you’re safe.”

“I don’t care.” Thomas gazed at the dancing flames of the campfire, perhaps using his powers to refuel it. “I didn’t run away from haters, Ariock. That’s not why I’m here. I came to Earth to atone.”

To atone?

Vy surreptitiously studied her foster brother, trying to guess at the guilt weighing on his soul. Did he still hate himself for sentencing Ariock to death? Or for torturing Cherise? He had done those things in order to survive, and to escape. Plus, he had made up for his wrongs. What additional absolution was he looking for?

“You saw my confrontation with my father?” Thomas asked. “Did Garrett show it to you with telepathy gas?”

Ariock hesitated, then gave an embarrassed nod.

Vy nodded, too. She was never going to be able to forget the shock of experiencing the Megacosm in that way.

“Then you know how the Torth Empire experienced it,” Thomas said. “You felt, thirdhand, how much guilt my father carried for fathering me.”

That was true. It wasn’t the key takeaway that Vy had focused on, and Garrett had not seemed to care much about it, either. But yes. The Somehow Nexus had felt a lot of guilt as he’d blasted himself to death.

Thomas had witnessed that suicide firsthand. A child should not have to absorb that much torment, especially from a parent.

“Most Torth feel guilt,” Thomas said. “I feel it, too. I came to Earth to find out if there was any path to redemption for me. I thought maybe I could earn enough salvation to approximate feeling like a human being instead of a monster.”

Vy wanted to hug him. Why did the best people in the universe need to be so self-hating? She wanted to assure him that he was human in every way that mattered.

Instead, she stayed on her side of the campfire. Thomas seemed to want personal space.

“But I began to question why I was atoning,” Thomas went on. “Was it for the sins of my parents? Because they paid. They paid for what they did.”

Vy did not question that.

“Or was it the things I did as a Yellow Rank?” Thomas asked. “But I made up for those. As best I could, anyway.”

“You have nothing to atone for,” Ariock said. Vy nodded in agreement.

“Garrett would say otherwise,” Thomas pointed out. “Lots of people would say otherwise.”

“They don’t count,” Ariock said.

“Kessa,” Thomas said. “She counts.”

Vy could not imagine Kessa condemning Thomas as a sinner, or anything like that. She began to say so.

“I meet all the criteria for being a penitent Torth,” Thomas said. “That’s what I am. According to the laws of our society—the laws that I set up, with Kessa, and with your help—I am a penitent.”

Vy wanted to reject his Torth identity like it was poison. She was willing to pretend that he was fully human.

Heck, she had never even suspected that he was an alien when they’d lived in the Hollander Home. That must count for a lot.

“You’re not a Torth,” she said, pleading for him to understand.

Thomas faced her over the campfire. “But that’s exactly what I am.”

She tried to think of another angle. How could she convince him to reject his supposed Torth-ness? If she could do it, surely he could, too?

“Growing up,” Thomas said, “I observed the people around me like they were alien life forms. I never belonged. And later, when the Torth enfolded me into the Megacosm? I felt like I was home.”

Vy didn’t want to hear that.

“I never fit in with humans,” Thomas said. “I tried.” He gestured at the vista around them. “I came here, to Earth, to try one last time. I went to a high school in Finland. But there’s nothing left in me that’s childlike enough to mesh with kids. Then I went to an overcrowded city in Bangladesh, to be a foreign stranger. It didn’t work. I couldn’t keep up the charade.”

Vy stared at him. Her heart was breaking. It sounded like he really had tried.

“When I believed that I had one alien parent and one human,” Thomas said, “I wondered why my supposedly human father left so little impression on my genes. Now I know. I don’t have anything human in me.”

Vy wondered why he kept insisting on reminding them of that painful fact. Why was he making such a point about being inhuman, nothing but a rotten Torth?

“So you’re genetically a Torth.” Ariock said that forcefully, no doubt as pained as Vy felt. “Fine.” He blew out a breath, as if to dismiss the weight of that confession. “That doesn’t mean you’re bad! All that really matters is the way you were raised. So, you see? You’re as human as I am.”

Thomas shook his head without shame or pride. “That’s not all that matters.”

“Your genetic heritage doesn’t change anything,” Ariock insisted.

“It changes everything.” Thomas sat there, implacable, unruffled. “It matters to everyone. Including me.”

Ariock looked uncomfortable, having been called out on his polite fib. “Okay.” He hunched and admitted the unpleasant truth. “Yeah, maybe it changes a few things. But it doesn’t mean you have to quit fighting the Torth Empire!”

Vy watched her foster brother, certain that Ariock’s arguments must have made some impact. Surely he knew that Ariock was right?

“The Torth,” Thomas said, “are my people.”

Vy had a sick, sinking feeling.

“And guess what?” Thomas said. “I’m not ashamed.”

Vy winced. Thomas was too proud, too confident—an attitude that contradicted his words. Surely he could not be proud of … well … his Torth heritage?

Ariock looked like he was struggling with what to say.

“Don’t worry,” Thomas said, seeing their appalled looks. “I’m not planning to join the Torth Empire. I would never do that.”

Vy tried to calm down. Of course her foster brother was not evil. How could she even consider that?

Still, she felt shaken.

“But,” Thomas went on, “I won’t fight them, either.”

That was almost as bad.

Vy stared at her foster brother, betrayed. Was he really okay with just stepping aside to let doom happen?

This was not the friend and brother she loved. It couldn’t be. After all the plans he had set in motion, after all the wonders he had accomplished, after all they had suffered in order to beat a galactic empire which no one had been able to challenge until now … he wanted to just quit and … agh!

Would he let the Torth win?

Ariock looked so upset, the sky ought to be filled with storm clouds rather than sunny. “You’re not evil. I don’t believe that.”

Thomas gave Ariock a pitying look. “None of the Torth are evil.”

Vy gaped at Thomas, speechless, except for a whimper of pain. Was he hiding from the truth?

Maybe that was why he was here. Alone.

How much had her foster brother been suffering, to completely sever himself from all hope and goodwill? She knew that he rarely showed emotion. He bottled it up inside, repressing it. Like a…

Well. Like a Torth.

But that didn’t mean he was an emotionless sociopath. Did it?

She should have questioned him more, and tried to drill down to the root of what was bothering him. Maybe she should have tried harder to persuade Cherise to talk to him? Or something.

“It’s not your fault that I’m here,” Thomas said to both of them. “My problem isn’t you, or anyone else. It’s here.” He touched his own chest. “I’ve always felt torn between two civilizations. I just got torn apart. I can’t continue to rob Torth of free will like I’ve been doing. I can’t live with destroying the Torth people. I know the Empire is horrible, and it should be taken down, but I cannot be the one to do it.” He slumped, and he sounded broken. “They are my people.”

“Garrett could say the same thing.” Ariock’s voice was rough. “But he isn’t abandoning us.”

“Garrett isn’t a Torth,” Thomas said. “He’s a hybrid, and it’s obvious. He has an Alashani temper. He is Alashani in his heart.”

True.

“I was willing to decimate the Torth when I believed I wasn’t really one of them.” Thomas looked ashamed. “But now? I can’t. There is no difference between me and the penitents. Absolutely none.”

Vy forced herself to look at Thomas, to see what he was urging them to see.

The truth.

He was not human. Not at all. He wore human garb right now, but he was a Torth—and not in a minor way that could be downplayed and whispered about. No. He was wholly Torth.

“The Torth Empire is evil,” Thomas said. “But not the Torth people. I came here to do penance. But I met an orphan in a similar situation, cast aside by parents who couldn’t raise him, struggling to prove his value in a society that didn’t care. Nether of us chose our parents. We did not choose to be born into this world, or this culture. So what are we guilty of? Original sin?”

Vy swallowed the arguments she had been preparing.

“Is that what the penitents have to atone for?” Thomas asked. “Is that why they’re on their knees?”

He had a point. Vy was beginning to see it.

“The penitents are atoning.” Thomas got to his feet. “But without individual and personal reasons to atone, it’s meaningless. Without any end in sight, it’s pointless.”

He made a shrill whistle. The eagle wheeled and flew towards him.

“Migyatel foresaw the tyrant that I would become,” Thomas said. “It was her final vision. She was right about me.”

Vy recalled the traumatic death of the prophet. Migyatel had died from a stroke, and the Alashani population had blamed Thomas. In all the chaos that had ensued—trying to get Thomas’s medicine, facing down Jinishta’s army, meeting Garrett for the first time, and then major battles, and a planetary annihilation—she had forgotten that Thomas must have absorbed Migyatel’s final prophetic vision.

That vision had been so overwhelming, so disturbing, it had killed the prophet.

“What did Migyatel see?” Vy asked.

“Zombies,” Thomas replied. “Hordes of zombies doing terrible things. Troops that obeyed my commands without question. Torth fearing and worshiping me. Cities burning. And me, a tyrant. I became a Commander of All Living Things. She saw that I could destroy the Torth Empire.”

Judging by his bitter tone, he definitely wasn’t proud of this. He sounded disgusted.

“I hoped it would never happen,” Thomas said. “But it did. And now? I won’t be that person. I’m sorry, but my heart isn’t in this war. I can’t give you the unflagging cooperation you want. I’m not a conqueror.”

He held out his padded arm, and the eagle alighted. She flapped to adjust her position.

“I waited for you to find me,” Thomas said, “because I wanted to say goodbye.”

Vy felt devastated.

“I’m glad I got to see you one last time.” Thomas gave them each a nod.

Ariock leaned onto his knees, desperate. “Thomas, we need you.” His voice roughened, strained by his admission of vulnerability. “I need you. Please. You know we can’t survive without you.”

“I’m sorry.” Thomas’s smile was tense and sad. “Good luck with it all.”

He walked away.