“They’re not like most people in most civilizations. We haven’t seen anything like them anywhere else. Their abilities make them too dangerous to release and too valuable to eliminate.”
She didn’t need her abilities to taste the bitter contempt curdling inside him. Anger twined like a monster inside her. It wasn’t just from the accusation but also from a deep, incredulous hurt. “You talk about them like they’re weapons.”
“That’s what Voíríans become when no one controls them,” Emerson said. “Weapons. Some can ignite fire. Others can move objects with thought alone.”
He didn’t mention telepathy. What else could Voíríans do? She’d shown only mental abilities—sometimes terrifying and volatile—but never anything like fire control.
Audrey sucked in a deep breath. Her mother’s words all those years ago didn’t feel abstract anymore.
Control the blade. Never let it control you.
At the time, it seemed like a metaphor. Now, it was an instruction for something else, not from here. Her eyes lowered to her own hands. These hands. The same ones that had just?—
Audrey’s thoughts were a storm of shame and racing adrenaline. The fact of her identity crashed into her, mixing hope with a searing sense of loss and isolation.
“If I’m not human,” she said slowly, “then am I part of what your government locked away on that moon?”
Emerson didn’t soften. “You are. Voíríans have powers that could rewrite the balance of the systems built by the Aggregate. The Separatists see suppression as violence, and they respond accordingly. They believe that if the Aggregate fears telepathy and other Voírían abilities, then eventually it will have to acknowledge them.”
A lifetime spent being wrong about herself—all rewritten in a single breath. The revelation twisted inside her gut; vindication mixed with incredulity, and her fists clenched as she fought for control. She wasn’t broken; she was completely different. The new truth charged her with an uneasy energy rather than calm.
“And what do you think?”
“I believe aggression without infrastructure behind it is suicide. Power without the support of a technologically advanced civilization becomes ripe for infighting. And the Voíríans barely have a functioning civilization. They’re savages,” he said. A flash of uncertainty passed over his face before he forced it away, his attention flinging back to the tablet.
“Are you sure you believe that?” Audrey pushed him.
“I already told you they’re not technologically sophisticated enough to be Citizens, and they’re far too different to assimilate. It’ll never work.” His words sounded practiced, as if he were repeating beliefs half to convince himself. Yet there was something unresolved lurking behind their meaning,
Still, Audrey had to take him at his word. He’d drawn a clean line between the two societies. These Separatists would burn cities to force recognition, to demand power. Emerson would regulate them into something stable enough to survive. Two conflicting ideologies, with wildly different approaches to survival. One wanted to keep people like her caged, while the other would use her to break the world open.
And she didn’t know which one terrified her more.
Pieces fell into place, ugly and inevitable. “My mother has done horrible things for this cause, hasn’t she?”
“Yes.” Emerson glanced toward the door, restless. “Your mother is a terrorist,” he said. “Then she hid for years, letting her own daughter take the fall for the crimes against your family.”
It echoed Alex’s fragmented warnings, but hearing it from someone else broke something open. Grief and relief rose together, choking her.
Cary. Her dad. They should still be alive.
“What do you believe should be done about it? Not just her, but all Voíríans?”
The tablet dinged again, the red numbers still ticking down.
“The Aggregate doesn’t grant freedom lightly. We need to keep evolving the system they live under to ensure they can advance safely. But if they ever chose to work against the Aggregate together, the danger to innocent people would be catastrophic.”
The thought was terrifying.
A frustrated noise escaped him. “It’s impossible to explain a thousand years of political unrest in five minutes. But there’s more you don’t know—about how deeply Ezebethian society depends on the Voíríans—and I don’t have time to get into it.”
“If they contribute, then give them freedom,” Audrey argued.
“It’s more complicated than that. Our two societies are tied together by something we can’t simply destroy—or easily change—especially with how formidable Voírían abilities are. Domination guarantees safety from something we still don’t understand.”
It was clear he didn’t advocate cruelty. No, this was about exerting more control.
Emerson shifted his gaze past her shoulder, and though his face barely changed, his aura was a mess. He reached for the screen without a care for the weapon at his throat. She let him, curiosity taking over.
