He might have passed one in the street, but that was private information, so he wouldn’t have known. “No.”

The official gave that non-smile again. “We’re giving you one to sync.”

Surit gripped the arms of the chair involuntarily. “What?”

“Congratulations,” the official said. “Not even all our Rank Ones get that. You’ll have to make some sacrifices, but in the regulators, it’s a golden ticket for your whole career. You could make general in ten years.”

Even the ability to count himself into calming down had deserted Surit. “You can’t be talking about a permanent sync.” Surit didn’t know much about advanced use of architect powers, but even he knew you couldn’t sever a sync. Both the architect and the reader were so bound into it that their brains would shut down if they tried. That must be bad enough for the architect, who controlled the whole thing, but for the reader—Surit had barely ever thought about readers. He pried his fingers from the arms of the chair. “My briefing—”

“You still have a mission,” the official said. “Standard salvage operation. They’re jetting into chaotic space to take apart an old space station. You’ll have a retrieval unit to command as usual. Think of the reader as an … add-on. A bonus. You can use this assignment to get to know them, and they can start their pilot training. And after that—much more interesting assignments and guaranteed promotion. You’ll make captain permanently by next year. I understand you have some benefits for your parent hinging on it.”

Surit sat still in his chair, reason and dismay warring inside him. Surit had never shirked an order, never failed a challenge. The regulators were the most powerful body outside the division commands. They could make difficulties for him wherever he went. “What happens if I refuse?”

“I really hope you don’t,” the official said. “It would be a shame to have to court-martial the only person from your province on the command track.”

Surit had half suspected it. The time to turn it down would have been in the district captain’s office. And even that might not have worked.

This reader had joined the army and agreed to sync, willing to serve their planet. The knowledge sent a stab of shame through him. Surit had signed up for this too.

“Who is the reader?” he said.

“We prefer to call our agents by number,” the official said. “He’ll identify himself when you board your ship. He’s under orders to assist in your mission as a learning exercise. Is this acknowledgment of your movement orders?”

Surit tried to realign his attitude. He’d been asked to do this; this was how he could be most useful to the army. It sounded like the reader had military experience. Hopefully he would know more about successful syncing than Surit did.

“Yes, sir,” Surit said. “I accept.”

CHAPTER 5