"Speaker—it's a label the public gave us." Justin chuckled. "A warning label, yet less than half are actual Speakers. And this?" He held up his extinguished cigarette. "It's miristyn. Depending on the dosage, it can suppress or enhance our extra abilities. I have a minor Speaker skill, one I rarely use, but they made an exception for Westling's boys." He flicked the butt.

The brief distraction caught Sol off guard. Justin lunged forward, grabbing his wrists. The lingering haze of blue-tinged vapor swirled around them. Sol tugged, but discovered his muscles had gone sluggish.

"A Speaker is quick to listen, slow to speak, and diligent to remember." The man's breath, full of the spicy fragrance, scrambled Sol's thoughts. "Which are you, Solaris Collinsworth?"

Smoke concealed Justin's face. It slithered past to reveal a young man in the Speaker's place. He seemed similar in age to Sol, but his ice-blue eyes—those penetrated Sol's skull, freezing him like a rabbit spotted by a wolf.

The man's smile held no warmth. "Go deep, Solaris. Connect with the unseen web."

A long-nailed bloody hand grasped the shoulder of this stranger.

Sol trembled. This man, his words, that hand—a shiver of déjà vu coursed through him, but no memory surfaced.

An eyeless head peeked over the man's frame. "Yes, connect. Let us find you." The creature displayed its jagged teeth in a mockery of a smile. "We. Are. Hungry."

It lunged forward.

Sol sprung up. He tripped and fell backward. Hand outstretched, his eyes squeezed shut. "Be gone!"

The chair clattered on the tile.

The door swished open.

Sol's eyes snapped open. "Stay—" There was no monster. No blue-eyed stranger. Even the smoke had dissipated. All that remained was Justin who reclined in his seat with a furrowed brow. "Back..."

Renden entered, scowling as he approached Justin. "What did you do?"

Sol stood, limbs trembling. What happened? Had it been a hallucination?

Justin studied Sol. "You are an interesting boy."

"Hardly a boy." Sol swept at his clothes to conceal his unsettledness.

Renden stopped before the Speaker. A tick pulsated on his temple.

Justin rose. His jacket brushed against the cadet. "Flarenden, after reviewing your record, it is obvious you are a Listener. Scoring a few points higher than Solaris on the written exams, even though you never studied. Coming up with the better ideas, impressing your instructors. To be honest, I assumed all Solaris inherited from the Collinsworth gene pool was his father's intelligence." He walked around Renden. "Perhaps there's a bit more of the family heritage within him."

Sol took in a steadying breath. "What? Got all that from making me have a bad trip?"

Cornelius snorted. "Miristyn isn't a hallucinogen." He placed a box on the table.

Justin gave Sol a half bow. He suspected the Speaker was mocking him. "Solaris Collinsworth, what you experienced was a memory."

Cornelius paused. "Were you able to unlock—"

"No. That's not my specialty."

"But you know who can," Sol said.

The Tower medics described Sol's brain as a well-guarded safe with more traps and snares than the impenetrable Vault of Arcane Knowledge. They said he had witnessed his mother's murder. They said forgetting was a natural defense. Normal for his mind to create a black hole, not reviving until days afterwards. They said a lot of things, only some Sol believed as truth—unlike Renden, who swallowed the Academy's dogma without doubting. Perhaps the Institute was the better path for them both.

Justin retrieved his glasses from inside his coat. "I don't doubt the Safeguards did their best in trying to retrieve your repressed memories, what with their expertise over the mind, but we have other methods we can use—ones proven quite effective in cases such as yours."

"Then Solaris is a Rememberer?" Cornelius asked.

With his eyes covered, Justin faced Cornelius. "Not sure."

Cornelius laughed. "You? Not sure? That's a first."

Justin gave a small smile. "He displayed all three aspects of a Speaker."

"What does that mean?" Renden muttered under his breath.

Justin ignored him, directing his attention to Sol. "I won't lie to you, Solaris. There is a possibility that you won't develop into a Speaker. If not for these extenuating circumstances, the Institute would have waited another five or ten years before approaching you. It has burned us before—a child showing the spark of a gift but never growing into it. Most settle into their Speaker ability in their thirties, but you might be lucky and evolve earlier. I hope you don't mind the wait, being a Speaker with none of their benefits and privileges. But, once accepted into the Institute, there's no going back."

To learn what happened the day his mother died—wouldn't that would be worth it?

"What do you say?" Justin straightened his coat. "Will you do us the honor of accepting our invitation to join the Speakers?"

Renden grabbed Sol's arm and steered him away from the others. There wasn't much space in the room for privacy. They halted by the grandfather clock.

Renden hovered over Sol. "What did you remember?"

Sol shook his head. What could he say? That he saw a monster? He didn't believe Justin's claim about it being a memory. Such a creature couldn't exist. "Does it matter?"

"Fine. Don't spill." Renden dragged a hand through his hair before lowering his voice. "Look. I still believe the Institute is the better option."

"Really?" Sol rolled his eyes.

"Hey. I won't lie. I prefer a shot at the Towers over indentured servanthood. But I'm serious." Renden pushed off the clock to place a hand on Sol's shoulder. Its warmth seeped into Sol. "As much as I hate to admit it, that pretentious prikken of a Speaker hasn't told a single lie. He'll hold his end of the bargain."

"Like you would know—"

Renden squeezed hard. "Listen, will you? The smoke did something. I could discern lies from truth. And, yes, I cheated off of you. I embody all the stellar virtues of the Academy: lie, cheat, and steal, just never get caught in the act." Renden relaxed his grip and muttered, "That's why you've never succeeded here."

Sol swatted his twin's hand off.

Renden grabbed his arm, pulling him back. "The Academy tried to twist you into their view of the ideal solider, but you were too stubborn to conform. You kept your conscious. Your morals. Something these Speakers will appreciate. They're obsessed with their impeccable reputation and honor."

"I don't get you. You hate the Institute."

"Wrong. I fear them."

Sol sucked in a breath. Renden admitting to fear?

"Join them. But don't do it for me or on the slim chance of getting your memory back. In fact, it might be for the best that we never discover what happened that day. The past is dead and gone." Renden gave a dry laugh. "And the future is uncertain—this complete fiasco has proven that to be true. All we can affect is the here and now." Renden dropped his hand. "But it's your call. I won't blame you for whatever choice you make."

"Who are you and what have you done to my brother?"

Renden laughed. A genuine laugh. "He was right. Our mother did a number on us. I think it's time we put her ghost to rest and figure out for ourselves what's best for us."

"If I do this, we might never see each other again."

"Bully wag. We won't end up like those two bitter fools, letting genetics dictate a grudge. We are Collinsworths. No one can tell us what we can or cannot do." Renden shrugged as a wicked grin tugged on his lips. "And if these cold-blooded organizations win in corrupting our souls, then we'll at least have the courage to tell each other off in person. Deal?"

Renden stretched out his hand. Sol clasped the offered forearm. They both might have held on a bit too tight, a bit too long, before Renden released him.

Sol walked up to the table, coldness encasing his limbs.

Cornelius laid out the sheet that required his signature. All the terms already written out, as if they had foresight in knowing how the brothers would bargain. Cornelius's signature stared back at him, relinquishing the Academy's guardianship of him into the hands of this Speaker.

Sol tapped the parchment. "You truly believe the Institute can help me remember?"

"Yes," Justin said.

Sol took the pen. The sharp tip dug into the paper as he scratched his signature down.

Cornelius pulled out a second sheet, one with terms for Renden to sign. Sol glanced over at the document. His twin signed without even reading it. The Tower Lord slid the page off the table the moment Renden finished his signature.

Justin straightened the remaining papers, checking them over. "Solaris Collinsworth, you are now a ward of the Institute of Cyborgs and Synthetic Intelligence." Packet tucked under his arm, he tugged on the gloves. The Speaker shared a look with Cornelius before he exited out of a side door leading to the lobby of the Academy.

What was that about?

"Flarenden," Cornelius said, "assist Miss Stendford on getting the clothing size correct."

Of course, they would think of the little details. After all, they couldn't have him wear Academy uniforms at the Institute. Now could they?

As Renden passed by, Cornelius pointed to the box. "And take that with you."

Sol tensed. He knew what came next. Unlike his brother, he had read the fine print.

Renden glanced back as the door shut, sealing Sol inside with the Safeguard Tower Lord.