He returns, and the Important People sound extremely pleased, though they say nothing.

They go back to the compound without incident.

Damjen's father does not send a reply. Instead, he arrives in two days. They meet in the indoor solarium. Despite the glass walls of the place, it's the most secure against spying. He sees his father scan the room to ensure that none of the servants are staying behind to snoop.

"Hello, Father."

        "So, you know."

"Know about what?"

        "The compound."

"I know that there is a compound. I don't know what's going on in it. I didn't go inside." He puts on an indignant air.

        His father sighs. "I know you well enough to know that you aren't going to let this go. I'll tell you what's going on if you promise not to tell anyone else."

"I promise."

        "Really promise."

"Fine." He takes off his moss hat and lets his father read his mind.

He's not lying!

His father looks tired, and Damjen can see him get brighter in his spiritual sight, though he can't discern anything through his father's own cap. He gestures for the both of them to sit.

He explains that the compound houses an experimental black-flow mage supersoldier for the military. He was one of the collaborators in the project, though his personal contribution was mostly in the initial hybridization. They're renting the dilapidated castle at a good fee.

That explains why the coverings were so good. Also, wow, this is such a bad idea. He put his cap back on when he sat down, but he doesn't know how much of that showed on his face.

"Honored father, why do this? Isn't our whole family's legacy based around the fact that we deposed the Cannibal Kings?"

        "I understand your apprehension. But the enemy now aren't the black mages — they have already been dealt with. The issue now is the Federation. We need to make sure we can credibly retaliate if they start something."

He really doesn't like this. This seems like something primed to explode. Literally and figuratively. He was taught the sagas of the revolution in his youth, and he knows how difficult and chancy it was. Why create a stronger version of one of them?

"Are there any eye mages on the project?"

        "Look, I can't-"

"I am recognized by you and the whole family as being a mindreading prodigy. I've been learning psychology and psychotherapy. I could be useful. I can be useful. You know this."

        His father scoffs and looks away. It would be uncouth for Damjen to more directly restate the leverage he has. "I can't guarantee anything."

"I will be satisfied by you just talking to them."

Grandpa says that he did really well in his test, which is why he's getting a reward. They've gotten a boy of the same age as him they can talk to. He's confused at how this is supposed to be a reward, but whatever. He's pleased that Grandpa is pleased.

The interior of the castle is empty. Apparently the compound is underground. They go downstairs, to the dungeons. The walls are bare stone illuminated by electric lights. It looks profoundly depressing.

Damjen has an understated get-up: a dark blue robe with a moss cap with blue bellflowers. The guards have arranged a seat for him and move to the corners of the room.

Damjen looks at the guards. They're also wearing moss caps, so he can't read what they're thinking. Ugh.

"Can I get some privacy?"

        "No, safety concerns."

"Fine." He sits.

Kandrad stands at attention, his eyes looking at the distance, preternaturally still except for his breathing.

The new person smells interesting. Quite good, actually. But not in the same way as Grandpa. He can tell he's an eye mage.

"You can sit down if you want."

He's refraining from looking at Kandrad's forehead or eyes. That's how you read people. Instead, he's looking at his nose, or away from him entirely. It's considered becoming for eye mages to do that, moss cap on or not, though he doubts he knows the meaning behind this behavior.

"Yes, sir." Kandrad sits on the bed. He moves with extreme economy of movement, moving his body exactly and only in the ways that are necessary to bring himself into the required configuration, then coming to a complete stop, again, save for his breathing. It's simultaneously graceful and unnerving.

He does notice that Damjen doesn't look him in the eye. But indeed, he doesn't know what that means, or is supposed to mean.

Damjen has enough training not to let any possible unsettling show on his face. 

"Hello. I'm Damjen."

Kandrad doesn't see it from him, but he can hear it from him.

"My name is Kandrad."

"Well met. I haven't been here before. How have you been doing recently?"

"Good. I recently got to eat a lot of meat, and I destroyed a village with it. Grandpa and the others were very happy."

Uh oh, did he say something wrong? He's being so loud.

"I see. Who is Grandpa?"

"One of my trainers. He's not here right now."

That doesn't explain why he's called 'Grandpa'. Is he literally his grandfather???

Whatever, that doesn't seem important right now.

"So, I'm an eye mage. Do you know what that means?"

"Yes."

He was actually cleared to just read Kandrad's mind from the very start, but that isn't in keeping with professional ethics. He does not want to have to explain to the superweapon that he read his mind without telling him.

"Eye mages can read minds. Currently, I'm refraining from doing so. My job is to talk to people about things, mostly about things that mentally or emotionally upsetting, and perhaps read their minds about it. It's helpful in that they don't need to be able to verbalize their thoughts, so there's less of a barrier to understanding."

He already knew that.

"Oh, I thought you were already doing that."