CITY OF SLAVES

[an excerpt]

"They're mind readers," said Cherise softly.
Thomas gazed at the whiteness above them, troubled. "Yeah. They think of themselves as 'Servants of All.' Something like that."
"Why are we here?" Rhianna wrenched herself into a sitting position. "Why are we prisoners?"
"We're on a spaceship," Thomas said to no one in particular. He remained on his back, too weak to sit up. "That falling sensation is low gravity. We're not on Earth."
"What do you mean?" Rhianna demanded.
"I got a sense of travel from them. We're going somewhere. Of course, they could have teleported us to another planet, but if they could teleport, then we wouldn't need to travel somewhere; we'd already be there. So we're on a spaceship."
"What are they?" asked Margot. "Are they . . . human?"
Thomas shifted his gaze to her. "They're aliens." His tone was matter-of-fact. "They're not even remotely what they appear to be. Part of their minds aren't there. I mean, at first I thought they had no minds, because I only saw them in noisy crowds of people. But now . . . the parts I picked up were like . . . a language. But . . . so beautiful. Like listening to gods singing to each other." A peculiar, wistful expression came over his face. "Their minds are fractals; interchanging, morphing. It would take me years to absorb just one of them. Maybe centuries. It's even more complex than that. It's like they each have a billion people inside their heads."
"What did they say?" Rhianna asked impatiently.
"I only got that we're prisoners." He looked forlorn. "And I had to try so hard just to get that. I felt like a little kid--you know, a normal kid--listening to a group of geniuses discussing nuclear physics. It was so fast and so much, I couldn't keep up." He faced each of them with resolve. "But maybe I can learn to speak their language."
Alex felt confident that Thomas would learn the mental language. Thomas could learn anything. What concerned him was entirely another issue. He spoke, loathing his monstrous voice.
"Why did they give us pain?"
"They don't like sound," said Thomas.
Margot looked incredulous, and Rhianna squawked another breathless laugh. "What?"
"It's offensive to them. The way they judge things, speech is a vice of lower creatures. It's like how we associate pathetic, cringing behavior with worms and snakes, animals that crawl on their bellies."
"Oh, great," said Margot.
Of everyone on the table, Cherise was the only one who regarded Thomas with composure. "Are they blind?"
"No. They see better than we can, I think. They watch through each other's eyes, and through our eyes."
Alex shivered at that thought.
"I can do that much," said Thomas dismissively.
Rhianna gave him a speculative look, and Thomas gave her a glare that was hot even from his lying down position. "I'm not like them! That's like saying, 'you're American, and some murderers are also American, therefore you must be a murderer.' God! They tortured me, too. Didn't you notice?"
"How were they giving that pain?" Margot rushed in.
Alex thought that was the most important question so far. Thomas needed a moment to work himself back to lecture mode. Everyone waited.
"It might be an implant," he said. "A device in our collars, triggered by a mental signal. Or . . ." he swallowed. "Maybe they can just do it."
Silence.
"What do you mean?" asked Margot.
His brow was tense in a way Alex had never seen before. "Some kind of power. An ability beyond telepathy." He twiddled his fingers, avoiding their gazes. "I could tell which one was giving the pain. They took turns."
Cherise studied him.
"Yeah," he said.
"Can you do it?" Rhianna asked in a dangerous, patient tone.
Thomas's face flushed red. "No! Why would I be here, helping you, if I was one of them? I have my problems, but I'm not an alien!"
In spite of Thomas's surety, Alex saw a ripple of doubt pass over his face. A slight inward turn of his gaze, a slight tension in his jaw.
"All you see are telepaths who imitate humans," said Thomas. " I see aliens. There's a universe of difference between them and me."