“It was what you described. A whole army. Not exactly marksmen, and not quite as coordinated as you described, but… it was a lot, very suddenly, and we had rookies to protect. We did come away with some stuff we can use and a lot of thoughts.”

In the background, Natalie stepped back inside.

“There weren’t marksmen or coordinated strikes because his focus was and is on me. Even now, those assholes move against us. I’ve tapped other resources. What thoughts or things that we can use do you have?”

“Antares thinks we should lock off the prison,” Kenzie volunteered.

“Why?”

“Preemptively,” I answered Goddess. “If we do it, then Teacher can’t, and the people running the prison might not try to do it themselves. Why try to seal the door shut if it’s already sealed?”

“And we could still get you in,” Kenzie said, all cheer and enthusiasm.

“This is good.”

I glanced back at Natalie. She had a very serious look on her face.

“It goes a step further,” I said. “Teacher’s a tricky guy because of his criminal history. He went from being a near complete unknown to being a top-tier player to getting arrested. It means that his records and the records I had in my files went from barren to high-tier confidential.”

“You looked at his files?”

“After he first came up in relation to Earth Cheit. There wasn’t much. But,” I stressed the word ‘but’. “There was some stuff on his thralls. Based on what we’re seeing and what the PRT noted about them just in case they had to worry about infiltration in their own ranks, I think we can come up with strategies.”

“This is good. Explain for me.”

“His degree of control comes from his subjects having less volition. Less ability to make their own decisions, react quickly, problem solve. I was reminded when I saw some of them outside the pharmacist’s house. They were practically zombies…”

⊙

Within the prison, a red-haired correctional officer with a receding hairline sat with his share of monitors in view. The monitors showed several camera feeds each.

“Sending low-risk inmates to dinner in fifteen,” a man at the center of the room said. “Kitchens will have meals going out to high-risk buildings in twenty-five, once the cafeteria doors are shut. Start-shift ready?”

“Lagging in change.”

“Tell them to get a move on. I want more bodies on the ground. Exit-shift?”

“They’re at posts.”

“Meds?”

“Coming out of the pharmacy. Betty and her escort. They’ll make it to the caf and back with time to spare.”

“Red, remind us of any incidents today.”