In the void where stray atoms float and time is relative, all is frozen and silent.  Nothing lives in deep space.  There are no voices. 

Except for the silent transmissions of the Torth galactic collective. 

  Have You heard about the rogue child on that primitive wilderness planet? 


      Which planet? 

        Here is what it looks like (🌎).

          Its natives call it “Earth” (or “dìqiú”) (or “bhūmi”) (the indigenous sapients lack a unified language). 

Disembodied thoughts converged.  Stars remained eternal and uncaring; pins in cosmic space-time.  But abstractions crisscrossed the dark energy matrix of the galactic spiral faster than light speed.  They formed an ever-shifting kaleidoscope of silent conversations. 

The originators of the news shared and swapped mental snapshots of a boy in a wheelchair.  Here is the rogue child’s corporeal form, they explained.  The local natives gave him a spoken name: “Thomas.” 


The vast majority of minds had never heard of anyone living lawlessly among primitives.  This was news.  This was something to talk about. 

  How remarkable, many commented. 

    Has anything like this ever happened before (in galactic history)?

      Hm.  Wait.  How do (You) We know that this child is actually one of Us? 

        Indeed.  The physical similarities between Our corporeal forms and that of (those primitives) humans are uncanny. 

          That’s because the indigenous primitives of Earth are an evolutionary offshoot of Our own predecessors.  

            Oh really?  I didn’t know that. 

              Yes.  (I am a relic specialist; I know all kinds of obscure ancient history.) 

                Anyway.  So isn’t it possible that this child is merely a precocious human? 

Dissenters changed the direction of millions of conversations.  BUT HE HEARS THOUGHTS.  

Everyone shifted, like kelp bowing to an oceanic current. 

  Primitives (humans) who regularly interact with this child claim that he is a mind reader.  

    Primitives (humans) who work with this child praise him as an unparalleled genius.  

      The primitives deem his accomplishments to be superhuman.  

        The indigenous natives (humans) are cognizant of the vast gulf in intelligence between him and them. 

That did seem like evidence. 


    Well well. 

      How did (one of Us) this rogue child end up alone and unsupervised? 

        Why isn’t he safely confined on a baby farm?

Relevant memories got swapped in the voids between space dust.  The replays hinted at an answer to the most popular questions. 

  Oh.  Her.

    The Servant of All who failed to serve All.  

      The one who went rogue. 


          She birthed an illegal child?


Fresh listeners joined the silent conversations, attracted by the waves of (!!!) surprise which signified breaking news.  

Everyone was eager to insert their own opinions.  Conversational clouds grew as large as nebulas.  

  Is that rogue child even aware of Us? 

    Does he even know that Torth exist? 

      What mayhem is he causing?

        Does he actually believe that he is a mere primitive (a human)?

          Who cares?  That is not germane.

            Right.  That rogue child is a menace to the native population of Earth.  

              He might speed up their development of (unspoken communications) their Internet.  

                Or he might gift them with other technological boons. 

                  That would transform them (the natives of Earth) into a potential threat. 

                    Which We would then have to eliminate (destroy) (or enslave).

                      He would ruin the natural innocence of the natives. 

Opinions rolled together, gathering into a unified conclusion as dominant and inescapable as a nebula. 

  We ought not leave him there. 


The Majority decision led to debates.  Not everyone agreed on how to remove the rogue child from Earth. 

  Let Us dispose of (kill) him. 


      He is too wild (a feral child).  He is unlikely to adapt to (Us) civilization.

        Plus, he is a hybrid.  

          He is not worthy of being introduced to Us (civilization).  

            Right.  He is probably too primitive. 

              Right.  He is not fully Torth.

Other minds pulled away in disagreement. 

  Surely he should be given a chance? 

    His mind may yet be malleable. 

      He is young, barely ripe.  

        And while We collect him, can’t We use this as an opportunity to finish the task which his mother failed to complete? 

          Oh, you mean kill that dangerous hybrid? 

            Yes.  Kill the Giant. 

              Oh, come on.  What a wasted opportunity!  Why can’t We collect the Giant instead? 

                Bring the Giant to My city.  I’ll make his execution a public Spectacle. 

                  No, My city should host the event. 

                    No, Mine! 

Lesser conversations eddied past the topic of the rogue child, discussing how best to slay the dangerous hybrid known as the Giant.  The main conversation, however, re-centered on what to do about Thomas.

Have You heard about his invention? 


    Yes.  The rogue child invented an effective medical treatment for his own congenital illness using only primitive tools. 

      At a very young age. 

        Oh wow.

          He must have astronomical potential. 

            He must be a super-genius; a very useful mutant. 

A silent chorus formed, upholding one suggestion above all others.  A Majority decision coalesced. 

  Give him a chance.  


      Bring “Thomas” to civilization. 


          Let him ascend. 

            Give him a chance to become ONE OF US.