Orshan’s link jumped straight into a major galactic hub where roughly thirty territories, polities, and empires met, so the transports ranged from commercial to high-end luxury to budget shuttles. If Tennal could get through this first link, he could go anywhere.

His brain stalled when he tried to imagine what anywhere would feel like.

He kept walking automatically. The Resolution border was a glitter of pale golden light stretched across the far wall. As he approached, Tennal watched travelers enter it: each of them presented their wristbands to a scanning wand outside it and walked straight through. It wasn’t a normal force screen that switched on and off; it hung there like a cloud. The doorway to the universe.

The Resolution controlled the galactic link. Orshan was a member of the Resolution treaty, of course—it had to be, because without the Resolution, not only could you not use the links, but you were also fair game for invasion by any of the other powers.

They had nearly been kicked out of the entire treaty twenty years ago, when the army’s reader and architect experiments had come to light. The Resolution hated unsanctioned neuromodification, which was a bit rich, because Orshan certainly wasn’t the only planet ever to mess around with remnants. Regardless, Orshan had friends and allies among the powers that made up the Resolution’s committees, and they’d struck a deal to get back in good standing.

That deal forbade architects and readers from traveling outside Orshan without permission. Tennal, however, was pretty sure there was no way the Galactics could know.

As Tennal lounged against the wall to watch, a Resolution scout entered with a telltale shimmer over one eye—the visual implant all Resolution workers seemed to get. He wore a wooden gender-mark and embroidery in galactic designs Tennal didn’t recognize, and his face was hard and intent. Tennal, for a moment, wondered what the difference was, exactly, between what the scouts could do and the feeling Tennal had when he tried to navigate. Were the scouts just better readers? Surely not. The Resolution had cracked down on Orshan precisely because the architects and readers were something they didn’t want spreading. The scouts had the ability to pilot. Orshan’s readers and architects affected other human minds.

The scout stopped suddenly at the edge of the amber field, looking over his shoulder. His eyes searched the room.

Tennal, through some sudden instinct, reached for a defensive technique. He let his mind clear. Readers can’t sense other readers. But a scout was not a reader, unless the Resolution was a lot more hypocritical than Tennal had previously thought.

The scout paused then shook his head slightly, as if clearing it, and moved on.