Nine hundred illustrious albinos sat in the grand marble atrium of the war palace. They wore purple mantles over their ornate robes.

“Um.” Vy stood in front of the huge galaxy throne, clearing her throat. “Thank you all for coming.”

Yanyashta squeezed Vy’s arm in a reassuring manner.

Vy wished Ariock could address this powerful crowd of Yeresunsa. He would have done so with ease. Instead, he was rushing around the galaxy, putting out fires in the wake of the Megacosm’s collapse. Garrett and Evenjos were helping, too, teleporting ambassadors and dignitaries from planet to planet. Linked, that duo was nearly as capable as Ariock. But there was so much to be done. Every hub planet in the known universe needed law and order and some semblance of civilization. They wanted superluminal communications satellites. They wanted hope. Otherwise, the planets might just descend into barbarism.

Yanyashta spoke, her voice amplified by her lapel microphone. “As you have all heard by now, we had a momentous victory. The Torth Empire is in collapse.”

That ought to be cause for cheering. The collapse had occurred several days ago, but it was really an ongoing event.

A few warriors grinned and pumped their fists. Others looked dour.

Vy saw that Yanyashta was getting increasingly nervous. The liaison secretary was used to dealing with military mayors and other dignitaries, but facing so many of her own brethren seemed to challenge her. She had grown up in cave cities where warriors were the pinnacle of society.

Vy forced herself to speak. “This means your military service is no longer mandatory.”

That should be a relief.

“We have set up a pension for all war heroes,” Vy went on, her voice amplified by her lapel mic. “Ariock values every one of you. This victory would never have happened without you. He knows that. So he, and all of us, want you and your families to live comfortably.”

Many warriors looked appeased. Whew. That was good.

Now came the hard part.

“Um…” Vy cleared her throat. “Also, Ariock will grant a special request to anyone who pledges to continue their military service for another year. There are still the dregs of the Torth Empire out there, causing problems.”

Flen glowered. He was one of the premiers in the front row, complete with an ultra-fancy brooch holding his mantle in place.

“Some examples of a special request,” Vy said, “would be gaining your own cave system on any planet of your choice, except for Earth.” She wanted to minimize the risk of a generation of hybrid superbabies. “Or you could get your own luxury streamship.” She thought that would be pretty cool, although the technophobic shani would probably disagree. “You could join a waiting list for your own custom-built personal villa. Or you could get a mayoral appointment.” That would entail its own set of responsibilities. “If you do continue your military service, please think of what you’d like to ask for.”

Vy sneaked a glance towards Cherise. Her foster sister sat amidst a sea of albinos, in the side gallery reserved for family members.

“Do you have any questions?” Vy asked.

That was a trigger. Voices suddenly competed to be heard, echoing off marble pillars. It reminded Vy of press conferences.

“Why are you bribing us to work with rekvehs?” Flen’s shout twisted with contempt for the mind readers.

There it was. The hatred.

Vy tried to feel sympathy for Flen. She definitely felt it for his family. She remembered Flen’s sister, a flamboyant and cheerful young woman, and she hoped that albino had not suffered before she died.

An unlikely hope.

By now, Flen might have heard that his loved ones had died in torturous scientific experiments. Rumors were crossing social boundaries. Penitents and former slaves were beginning to befriend each other, and they talked. Everyone knew the secret location of the Death Architect’s lair had never entered common knowledge, so it remained impossible to rescue the enslaved albinos who had been shipped there.

“Kessa works with penitents.” Yanyashta put her hands on her hips. “I don’t see her crying about it.”

“I work with Zai,” a premier shouted defiantly.

“Some of them don’t even talk out loud!” someone else yelled.

Others shouted in solidarity. “Some of them act like Torth!”

“You can’t expect us to trust our lives to slimy rekvehs!”

Rekveh. Vy was getting really sick of that word. Couldn’t the fully trustworthy penitents be called telepathic citizens or something? Kessa must be mulling over a new term for them. As Thomas had pointed out, they should not be expected to atone forever.

Something had to change.

Vy stepped forward. She wasn’t really afraid, or so she told herself. Her upgraded prosthetic leg hid gas emitters as well as blasters. She wore a dress with a slit so she could inhibit their powers and do a few roundhouse kicks if she had to.

“Ariock entrusts his life to a mind reader.” Her proud voice filled the atrium, and people quieted. “And so do I. Before we left our homeworld of Earth—before we even knew that Torth or slaves existed—Thomas was a member of my family.”

The Alashani were actually listening. Perhaps they were stunned by her daring admission.

“Thomas is my brother,” Vy said. “My foster brother—because humans don’t leave babies to die just because they can read minds. My mother, Elaine Hollander, took him in. I’m proud of her for it.”

Some of the war heroes looked outraged that Vy dared challenge their notion of who was good and who was evil. Flen and others began to leave.

These were the idiots who wanted to breed with humans in order to raise superbabies.

How dare they.

Vy had their attention for now, and she decide to let loose. She was going to say things she had wanted to say to the Alashani ever since she’d met them.

“Thomas saved his own life when no one else would, or could.” Vy remembered late nights he had spent working. “He saved me from slavery.” Vy touched her neck, where the slave collar had once been. “And Kessa. And he saved your people from a planet that was flooded and dying in an apocalypse. He didn’t have to do any of that! He could have left the disaster zone that was your world without creating a gigantic colony starship. We didn’t have to ferry millions of refugees away from the apocalypse. Thomas’s starship saved you. It was one hundred percent his idea. It was his engineering, his creation, his idea. He was the one who saved all of you.”

The Alashani ought to be reminded of that often. Like every day.

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“And now?” Vy went on. “I don’t know how many quadrillions of former slaves are free because of him. He destroyed a cancerous empire that kept your people underground and in the dark.”

Someone began to shout a protest. “But it was—”

“Ariock didn’t start this war or mastermind any of it,” Vy cut in, furious. “I know Ariock is the galactic hero that everybody sees. He’s your messiah. He is the storm. But Ariock himself would tell you, if you would deign to listen, that he isn’t the main hero of this conquest.” She opened her palms, pleading for them to acknowledge the truth. “It’s Thomas.”

Some of the Alashani looked thoughtful, or troubled. Maybe Vy had managed to reach a few hearts and minds?

Vy caught sight of Cherise in the side gallery. Was that a look of guilt? If so, good. It was about time.

“I’ve known Thomas for longer than anyone else in this part of the galaxy,” Vy said. “I knew him before he was the messiah’s rekveh, before he was the Wisdom of prophecy, before he was the Conqueror, before he was anything except a disabled child. I can tell you, he’s a good person at heart. He always has been. That’s who he is.”

She hoped Cherise heard that. Somehow, it felt far easier to say it in public than it was in private, to her foster sister’s face. This way, it wasn’t a personal attack.

“Thomas knows that both of his biological parents were Torth.” Vy turned to address the side gallery as well as the warriors. “That pains him. But he stepped up and fought the evil empire anyway. He didn’t let family honor become an excuse to stand back and let injustice happen. That’s what most Torth do—they tell themselves they are in the right family, the right clan, and therefore they are always in the right. They let horrendous things happen because of their own rigid self-righteousness. Thomas isn’t like that.”

Vy paused, allowing her audience time to ponder that statement.

Then, just to make sure they understood the parallels, she added, “Thomas isn’t like you. He’s better. He would never put his own race or genetics on a pedestal. He doesn’t think as narrowly as a Torth. Or an Alashani.”

Albinos recoiled as if she’d slapped them.

Yet they did not leave. The warriors did not attack Vy. They seemed to remember that she was their Lady of Paradise, beloved of heir messiah, and quite a few of them seemed to be reevaluating their own self-righteousness.

Yanyashta was wide-eyed. She clearly had not expected the turn this speech took. Vy was supposed to bestow rewards upon these war heroes, not deliver an angry rant.

Vy realized, now, that she wasn’t the right person for this job. Maybe Cherise was?

“The Torth Empire is still a threat on some planets.” Vy cleared her throat, eager to exit before the warriors could form a mob. “If any of you are brave enough to fight real enemies, instead of bullying penitents who are already defeated, please see Yanyashta. The rest of you can go and hide like the cowards you are.”

With that, Vy was done. She switched off her lapel mic.

“Sorry,” she whispered to Yanyashta.

Then she hurried away. She wasn’t going to hang around answering questions—or being accused of colluding with an evil rekveh, or falling for Torth propaganda.

She didn’t know how Ariock kept his patience with the Alashani warriors.

“Vy?” Cherise hurried to catch up.

Vy did not slow down. If Cherise wanted to offer empty platitudes, she could wait until Vy was in a better mood.

“Can we talk?” Cherise asked. “Somewhere private?”

Vy glanced at her foster sister, trying to judge how serious her request was. “I’m heading to my office,” she said. “We can talk there.”

If Cherise planned to make excuses for Flen and his buddies, Vy would actually kick her out. She was fed up with undergrounders and their supporters.

Behind them, Yanyashta fielded questions and complaints. Vy was grateful, impressed by Kessa’s secretary.

She navigated ramps and corridors in the immense war palace, passing people who were wrapped up in their own business. The palace was busier than ever. Thomas and Ariock had retrofitted several halls to include major holographic displays that showed livestreams from other worlds. There were new domes and spires atop the building, too. The war palace was becoming a nexus of administrative activity.

The pretty afternoon sky soothed Vy somewhat. Once inside her office, she strode to the glass doors that led to her balcony. The ocean sparkled on the horizon, tranquil and colorful, reflecting the banded gas giant in the sky.

“I know I lost my temper back there,” Vy admitted. She pulled two balcony chairs together. “I’m not a fan of the Alashani attitude, and it showed.”

She half-expected Cherise to start an argument.

Instead, her foster sister sat in one of the chairs, prim and uncomfortable.

Vy sat next to her. “What’s on your mind?”

The city sprawled below them. Creatures soared in the distance, like seagull-iguana hybrids.

“How is Thomas, these days?” Cherise asked.

As if that was a normal question.

Vy scrutinized her. Cherise had not asked about Thomas’s health or well-being in at least a year. Her questions about Thomas usually had an ulterior motive.

“Well,” Vy said, “he’s great. He has awesome new armor that Garrett forged for him.”

Cherise looked amazed. “He’s getting along with Garrett now?”

“Kind of,” Vy said.

“Why does he need armor?” Cherise asked.

“Just in case,” Vy said. “He doesn’t go into battles, but I suspect he’s as good as any warrior.” She met Cherise’s curiosity with a defensive glare. “He’s your foster brother, too. You’ve missed out on a lot.”

Cherise looked nonplussed.

“He made a friend from Earth,” Vy went on, wondering if she could rattle Cherise’s composure. “A street kid from Bangladesh. His name is Abhaga.”

Cherise’s eyes widened with wonderment and surprise.

“Apparently Thomas owed him a favor or something,” Vy said. “Abhaga is set up in the Dragon Tower with tutors to teach him the slave tongue. Maybe you could help with that?”

Cherise looked overwhelmed.

“Please don’t repeat that,” Vy said pointedly. “Abhaga is overwhelmed with culture shock. He doesn’t need a bunch of albinos gawking at him or trying to have his babies. So don’t tell Flen or anyone else. Okay?”

“Um, okay.” Cherise blushed, realizing the implications. “I won’t,” she agreed.

“There’s lots of other news,” Vy said. She thought about Nea, the toddler super-genius, and Thomas’s rapport with the Twins. She could tell Cherise about Thomas’s many projects: his commemorative edifices on various worlds, and his superluminal relays, which would eventually connect planets with real-time communications. Vy might even mention that Thomas credited Cherise for inspiring his architectural designs.

Instead, she said nothing.

She was getting tired of acting as the intermediary between her foster siblings. She wished Cherise and Thomas would just talk to each other like they used to.

“So…” Cherise seemed to melt a little bit. “He really defeated the Torth Empire? How? I mean, I’ve heard the news reports, but…” She trailed off, hinting that she wanted a firsthand account.

“There were a bunch of factors.” Vy studied her foster sister, and wondered if it would be patronizing to point out the obvious: Cherise could ask Thomas directly. All she had to do was step up and request a meeting.

Vy decided to test out the question. “You could ask him yourself.”

Cherise looked troubled.

Vy sighed and gazed at the city, feeling torn between her foster siblings. Cherise had lacked so much of love and loyalty growing up, it made sense that she clung to what Flen gave her. It was sad, but understandable. A lot of pressure would be rude and unwelcome.

As for Thomas? He seemed to have all but forgotten his once-strong bond with Cherise.

Maybe that was for the best.

“I’ve used telepathy gas,” Cherise blurted.

“Oh?” Vy peered at her foster sister, surprised. Telepathy gas was banned in the Alashani quarter.

“In secret,” Cherise clarified. “I wanted to find out how Thomas perceives things. At least, that was my excuse the first time.”

Vy stared at her. “The first time?”

Telepathy gas was popular at parties. A lot of people had tried it at least once, but Vy never would have suspected Cherise. This was almost as weird as finding out that an Alashani was huffing the stuff.

“So,” Cherise said, “I’m learning a lot about how other people think. And what they think.”

“Oh.” Vy wondered if Cherise had absorbed the common opinions about Flen and his undergrounders. A lot more people were feeling friendly towards Thomas these days. Quadrillions of slaves had been freed. Families and loved ones throughout the known universe were being reunited, and it mattered a lot.

“Have you used it?” Cherise asked shyly.

“A couple of times.” Vy felt queasy when she remembered having been in the mental presence of the Twins. That was too much. Far too much. “But I find it overwhelming. Ariock hates it, too. I guess it’s an acquired taste thing? Neither of us really wants to put in a lot of practice hours.”

Cherise nodded in acceptance.

They sat in companionable silence for a while, watching the ocean shimmer. Perhaps Cherise was dancing around a topic, working up the nerve to get there?

“I want to visit Thomas.”

Vy actually clapped. Finally!

This was cause for celebration, almost as much as victory over the Torth Empire. This was a milestone. It would lead to happiness, she felt sure, or at least to some resolution and closure between her estranged foster siblings.

She leaped off her chair and hugged Cherise, laughing with delight. “Oh my God!”

Cherise seemed startled by Vy’s reaction. “Uh, how should I make an appointment? Does he have a receptionist?”

“The whole research annex has a reception desk,” Vy said. “But never mind that! Let me arrange a meeting so you won’t need to do it in public.” She sat back down. “I’m sure Thomas would be willing to meet you outside the city.” It would be easy to charter a private yacht or something, if Ariock was too busy to teleport his friends around.

“No.” Cherise looked resolute as she shook her head. “I’m done being quiet about my feelings.”

Vy grinned in warm approval. She had a feeling that Flen’s rotten week was about to get worse. Thomas’s future was looking better and brighter.

Cherise leaned over and clasped both of Vy’s hands. “I’m going to dump Flen.”