The unspoken words were this time. He’d been sent to various elite institutions for difficult teenagers back when he was young enough, he’d had lectures, he’d had therapy—he’d gone through everything the legislator could think of to get him back on track. This was why he shouldn’t have come home. He was going nowhere from here. She could try any counseling intervention she wanted, but neither of them could get away from the facts: Tennal was a nightmare, his aunt hated it, and that would be their dynamic until one of them died. Tennal braced himself for the latest psychocorrection technique.

“I’ve put you on the conscription list,” the legislator said. It was short and brutal. “A Cavalry research fleet is leaving for a mission into disturbed space, and I’ve found a junior lieutenant strong enough to sync you. As of twenty-two hundred hours tonight, I wash my hands of you. You’ll be the responsibility of the fleet’s commanding officer.”

At first Tennal couldn’t process it. It was like a blow to the back of the head, sending all his thoughts spinning wildly. Conscripted into the army. Syncing.

“You can’t sync me with someone,” Tennal heard himself say. The words came out in a voice that didn’t sound like his own. “Not a random lieutenant. Not someone you haven’t even vetted. That’s permanent—Guidance Lights, that’s giving someone write access to me for life!”

Syncing was the last resort to neutralize a strong reader who had gone rogue. Tennal had never read up on the details, because why think about the worst-case scenario, but he knew the basics. An architect could link their mind irrevocably with a reader’s. Once they’d done that to you, that was it: no more defenses, not even your own natural walls. The architect could write you as easily as lifting a finger. You’d lost.

That was why the army took rogue readers. They couldn’t cause trouble after that.

“Doesn’t that cause you problems as well?” Tennal said. He was trying to be reasonable, but he could hear the desperate edge in his voice. “What if they order me to spy on you or work against you? I won’t be able to stop myself from being written.”

“You won’t be anywhere near me,” the legislator said. “You’ll be under military movement orders. And when it comes down to trusting you or trusting a junior lieutenant with a clean track record—why the fuck do you think this is difficult?”