glance at her wrists. The manacle abrasions seemed darker once again, though it might have been because of the star’s brilliant light. For some reason, Brinella’s words stung, as if they were tiny arrows aimed at Koren’s heart. “Maybe I am in chains, Brinella, and maybe my garment proves it. If that’s so, shouldn’t you help me? I want to serve the Creator, so please listen to what’s happening outside this chamber. Maybe you can tell me what to do to sever my bonds, and I will gladly submit to the net.”
Brinella kept her stare on Koren and gave her a slight nod. “Go on.”
Backing away from the hole, Koren spread out her cloak and began her story. Although Brinella, a Starlighter who distributed these tales, likely knew many of the facts, she couldn’t know Koren’s interpretation of them. At least now she might understand.
As Koren spoke, every character in her story appeared in the star chamber, fading into and out of existence as they were needed. In each scene, she played herself, taking on the pose of a slave during her labors and a prisoner during her captivity. Manacles appeared on her wrists, and chains weighed down her arms, feeling so real she could barely believe they were merely phantasms from her mind.
Finally, when she replayed the scene in which Taushin tortured her with electric shocks, the pain again shot through her body, stiffening her limbs and arching her back. Koren wailed. The agony seemed as awful as reality, like hot claws digging through to her heart and scratching her soul out of her body.
“I couldn’t escape!” Koren’s throat narrowed, pitching her voice higher as she lifted her chains and made the links jingle. “Taushin assaulted me with jolt after jolt, racking my body with unbearable pain. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t —”
“Stop!”
The sudden call jerked Koren out of her story. The pain eased. The chains and manacles faded away. As she shook out her stiff limbs, she turned toward the sphere and peered inside.
Brinella rose to her feet. “Your tale rings true. This vivid picture of slavery surely pierced my heart. As a Starlighter, I often show people images of realities they cannot comprehend because they have never witnessed them, so I should have known that rendering judgment against you without witnessing your trials was too harsh. I apologize.”
Koren bowed her head. “I accept without reservation. I understand your concern about my appearance and lack of knowledge.”
“Perhaps you can learn from my mistake and show the slaves images of freedom so they can witness what living in liberty looks like. This could inspire them to do more to counter their oppressors than merely licking their whip wounds.”
“What images?” Koren asked. “We’ve never been free.”
“Well …” Brinella glanced up, hiding her green eyes for a moment. “You could draw from days long ago when humans roamed the planet free of chains, but that might not be very effective. The people of that time will be foreign to them—dressed in odd fashions, acting in odd ways. To the humans of today, the humans of yesterday will be a different species.”
Koren tapped her chin with a finger. “But if I can show them the slaves who escaped to Darksphere —”
“Ah! Now that would be a trick!” Brinella paced in a tight circle, her fingers intertwined behind her back.
“Starlight has not seen their freedom, so you would have to draw from a different source, someone who has witnessed the events you wish to portray.” She stopped and pointed at Koren. “If you are a true Starlighter, you have that power, especially if you call for the images while standing within Exodus. If the people believe your words, their faith will bridge the gap between you and them.”
Koren imagined Jason walking straight and tall with his sword in hand. No slave on Starlight could ever display such confidence, such liberty of mind and body. Surely he could be a source for tales of