Above all, Dexterity loved to race. Within seconds of meeting someone new, she would challenge them to run to the first destination she could think of. Not for the sake of praise -- no, unlike Strength, Dexterity cared not for the accolades of others. What she craved was the thrill of competition, of sprinting across the ground at full speed, breathlessly giving her all in a simple desire to be better than.

But over time others tired of her challenges, for none could keep up with her. Even the nimble Cheetah begged for a rest at Dexterity’s incessant demands. And so Dexterity was sad, for while running alone was still fun, it was not the same as a race.

And then one day she looked up to see a cloud flying across the sky. “I will beat it!” She said, and sprinted in pursuit. At first it was a magnificent race, Dexterity barely pulling ahead and laughing as the cloud nipped at her heels. But even Dexterity tired eventually, and after hours of running the cloud pulled ahead, disappearing into the horizon and leaving Dexterity exhausted.

And so Dexterity was sad. Not because she lost, but because the cloud never even realized they were racing.

- Excerpt from “Fables of the Five Siblings”

“What?” He says, looking strangely at me.

“Bill Murray,” I say, grasping the hilt of the machete in my right hand. “The actor. What do you think about him?”

As I’m speaking, I see my companions hands drift back to their own weapons as Melete slowly circles around behind the man. It looks like she’s trying to prevent him from getting a chance to escape. I try to flash her the symbol for stop -- I’d rather we stick together for this -- but I’m not sure if she sees.

“I don’t know who that is, sorry.” The man says.

“Who’s your favorite actor then? Or movie? Or song?” I say. I pull the machete from its sheath and hold it in front of me, my friends raising their own weapons with me. I’m not sure how much they understand of what I’ve seen and am trying to do, but they trust me enough to follow my lead.

The man raises up his hands in front of him. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure why you're asking me this.” He doesn’t yet look afraid, despite the weapons brandished in his direction.

“Just answer the question.” Styx says. “It’s not too hard. Just give us one piece of information from pop culture.”

There’s a moment of silence. I hold my breath as the man stares at each of us, turning his head slightly to look back at Melete. There is still no expression on his face to give away any of his thoughts, and I attempt to prepare for whatever comes next.

“Fine, fine.” He says. “I’m impressed, not many can see through my illusions. What gave me away?”

I ignore his question. “What are you?”

“I’m willing to share that information with you, but I require some information in return on yourselves. What do you say to a more even exchange of information?”

I’m about to respond when Styx whispers at me, “Let’s get out of here Atlas. We can’t trust it.” The man, or whatever it is, still stands at the edge of our camp, hands held up in front of it. Melete stands a few yards behind it with her two knives out, eager to pounce on it’s unprotected back.

I ignore Styx for the moment and respond to the thing. “What are you proposing?”

“Question for question.” It says instantly. “We keep asking until either one of us refuses to answer. Questions must be answered honestly. After we’re done, we leave each other in peace. A simple exchange.”

“Why should we trust you?” I ask.

“Is that one of your questions?” It says. I just glare at it until it finally responds. “You don’t have to trust me. Simply ask your questions, I’ll ask mine, and then we leave in peace. In the worst case, you disregard everything I say and this ends in the same situation we are currently in.”

“Why should we give you any chance? Why not just kill you now?” Melete hisses at it from behind.

“You would find that more difficult than you expect, I imagine.” It says. “It is honestly all the same for me. I am here for information on humans, which I gain no matter how you respond. Although I of course would prefer a reasonable discourse.” Its vocabulary seems to have gotten much more formal which clashes with the twangy accent of its voice.

“Give us a minute to discuss, please.” I say, gesturing Melete over to join us. She walks in a circle around the thing, keeping her distance and refusing to expose her back to it.

When she’s finally with us, I whisper. I’m not sure how much good staying quiet will do, but we might as well not make it easy to be overheard. “What do we do?”

“Let’s get out of here.” Styx says immediately. “Who knows what that thing is planning. There might be more that could arrive any second. Maybe it was trying to lead us back to its nest or something.”

“Yeah, which is why we should kill it now.” Melete says, louder than what is probably necessary. I shush her before she continues at a more moderate volume. “We need to take it out while we have the chance. Besides, if we just run it could follow and lead the rest of them right to us.”

“I’m not sure how easy it will be to kill. Did you see the grass when it stood up?” I ask. They just stare at me until I continue. “The grass underneath it. It wasn’t pressed down at all. And for a second I think I saw some grass pass through its leg -- I think the man we see is entirely an illusion. The monster may be anywhere.”

“How does he know how to make an illusion of a person anyway? How can he talk to us at all?” Pallas asks.

“It’s an it, not a he.” I say. “We’ve got to remember that, even in our subconscious, in case we have to fight it later.” Styx nods along.

“Probably because that’s the face of the last person it talked to, before it ate them…” Melete mutters.

I glance back over to where the thing is standing. It has lowered its arms back to its side and seems to be waiting patiently for our decision. “I don’t know, but I think we should take its offer to talk. This could be our best chance to learn more about what’s going on.” They look at me skeptically as I continue. “It’s like Melete said -- I don’t know if just running will let us escape it. And as long as it is talking to us it isn’t getting reinforcements.”

“You just said that it likely isn’t actually here -- why should talking to us keep it from getting reinforcements?” Styx asks.

Huh, I didn’t think of that. I just shrug and say, “I don’t know. I just think this could be a huge chance for us to know more of what’s going on, and I think we should take it. If we need to we can always attack it later.” My voice turns pleading. “We’ve just been floundering for so long -- maybe we can finally get a handle on things.” They still look skeptical. “Look. If you all think we should run or fight now, I’m with you. But I seriously think we might be missing out on a huge opportunity.”

They stand silently, occasionally glancing over to the thing, until Styx finally responds. “Ok, let’s do this. But we need to stay careful and ready.”

Pallas nods, and Melete groans. “Fiiinneee.”

I nod and smile. “Right. Melete, can you stay on watch? Stay close enough to listen in case we need you, but don’t get distracted.” She nods and jogs back outside of the camp.

I turn to the thing. “So...should we still call you Sam? How does this work?”

It nods, face still stoic. “Sam will work fine as a way of addressing me. We will simply take turns answering questions until one of us decides we are done. If there is any question you do not want to answer I will get to ask again, and vice versa. Since I originally approached you under deceptive pretenses, I will allow you the first question.”

I pause. I’ve had so many different questions for so long about so many things, but now that I have a chance to finally get some answers my mind is completely blank.

“What are you?” Styx says when it becomes clear I’m not talking.

“Ah, an easy question to start it off, I will respond in kind. I am one of the Alatir, one of the species added to your planet at the inclusion. We are a cooperative species, and our primary trait is our natural ability to create illusions. What is the average lifespan and age of adulthood of humans?”

“Age of adulthood?” Styx asks, confused. Sam nods in response. “About seventy to eighty years old, total. Age of adulthood is eighteen, at least in this country.”

In the time Styx is speaking I’ve managed to gather my thoughts and I jump in when she stops. “The inclusion? Is that when all of this started? Can you explain exactly what happened?”

The man nods. “The inclusion. The point in the lifecycle of a world when one species has established dominance. To increase the challenge, dominant species from other worlds are added and Numbers for all species are reset to the base. It presents a permanent fundamental shift in the way the included world works and ensures the continual growth of the universe via adversity.” It stares into space as it speaks, as if it’s rote reciting a definition from memory.

I rock back on my heels, blinking. Worlds? These monsters are aliens?

“Could you explain that a little more? What do you mean by ‘fundamental shift’?” Styx asks. Pallas hasn’t spoken, but his eyes are staring at Sam with an intensity I’ve never seen from him before.

“That would be a follow-up question. First: What creatures have you seen since the inclusion? Creatures which aren’t native to this planet, of course.”

Styx answers its question while I reel from its previous answer. While at first I was focused on the revelation that this is essentially an alien invasion, now I can’t stop thinking about a single word in its definition of the inclusion: ‘permanent.’

“...oh yeah, and Atlas fought something that looked like a tree. I think that’s it. Can you explain the inclusion more now?”

When Sam starts speaking again, I struggle to regain my focus. I can reflect on what we learn later. For now, I need to pay attention.

“Yes. I have never personally been on a world prior to the inclusion, but from what I have learned, before the inclusion the only way to gain Numbers was gradually, over time?” When we nod, numbly, he continues. “That is a gentle time of growth for the world’s denizen’s to train their Numbers and natural abilities. After the inclusion, there is a much faster, but more dangerous, way to gain Numbers -- death. The death of any creature that has Numbers will transfer a portion of its Numbers to its killer or killers. Additionally, if there is a high enough resonance between the killer and the killed, it is possible for the killer to gain an ability from the killed, called a skill. The killer can then use their new skill in the same way the original owner did -- after practice, of course.”

Styx seems impatient at its long-winded explanation. “Yeah, yeah, we know all that. But why? Why are all these monsters showing up now? Why did everything change? Why did this ‘inclusion,’ or whatever it is, happen?”

The man angles its head to the side in what appears to be confusion, but its face remains completely neutral. “I’m afraid I do not understand your question. Why? There is no why. That simply is what is. The universe advances.” Styx doesn’t look satisfied with its answer, but before she can complain it asks its next question. “What skills do you have?”

There is silence in the wake of its question. “You have to know we won’t answer that.” Styx finally says. “Ask a different question.”

Sam looks unperturbed by our refusal to answer. “Will you tell me which of the creatures you faced you acquired the skills from?” it asks. Styx glances to me and Pallas, and after a moment I shake my head.

“How about the base Numbers of humanity? Before the native bonus is applied, of course.”

We remain silent until I finally ask, “Base Numbers? Native bonus? What are those?”

Sam pauses before it responds. “I will explain those to you for free, but you will need to answer my question after they have been explained.”

I hesitantly nod.

“Each species has a base Number value. This is the amount of Numbers the species is born with, and will also be the amount your Numbers were reset to at the inclusion -- each creature that came to your planet had its Numbers reset to their base value. The native bonus is a certain amount of free Numbers given to the native species of a planet at the inclusion. A boost to balance out the handicap that comes from ignorance, if you will. What is humanity’s base Number value?”

I’m still not entirely sure what it means. We are silent until Styx finally answers. “Zero, I think? I mean, all our Numbers were reset to zero a week ago.”

Sam sits in silence for a moment until it asks, speaking much more rapidly. “Really? What are your Numbers now?” It is leaning forward as if to catch sight of our arms.

I tense up and respond. “It’s not your turn.”

Sam immediately leans back into its normal relaxed posture. “I apologize, that was unseemly. What is your next question?”

It feels almost as if most of what we’ve learned so far is common sense to the creature in front of us and could have been figured out by ourselves. I want to make our next question count.

Before I can speak, Pallas asks his own question. “Do you know about any other humans in the area? What happened to the ones who used to be here, and do you know if there are any other people nearby?”

Sam turns to Pallas before responding. “I do not know much, I am sorry. I saw a small group of five humans three days ago, but did not interact with them -- they encountered a pack of Tollic and perished before I got the chance. I am not aware of any humans besides you four within twenty miles of here, as far as I have ranged.” Pallas looks sad at its response, but I can’t say that I’m too surprised based off of what we’ve seen. Sam continues. “What are humanity’s strengths?”

Part of me immediately rebels at even thinking about answering that question. As much as I want information, I won’t betray my species for what, so far, has amounted to things we mostly already knew.

But before I can say that out loud, I reconsider. What are humanity’s strengths? I honestly don’t know the answer. We’re smart? Right now, talking to this strangely articulate alien, I certainly don’t feel intelligent. Styx looks similarly unsure as to how to answer the question.

“What do you mean?” I finally ask.

“How did your species come to be dominant over this planet? What natural abilities do you possess that make you superior to other creatures?” It asks.

“Thumbs.” Melete calls out from where she stands on the other side of Sam, still facing away but holding up a hand to demonstrate. I hold in a laugh. Sam’s face doesn’t change, but I somehow get the impression that it is not amused at Melete’s response.

Before it has a chance to ask a follow up question or Styx has a chance to speak, I cut in. “Before we answer that question, or really any more, I have another question for you.”

“That is not our arrangement.” I get the feeling that Sam is even less happy with my statement. My hands tighten around the hilt of the machete.

“Well, sorry, but that’s how it goes. If you don’t want to answer, I guess our time’s done then.” I take a deep breath. “Why do you want to know all this?”

For the first time, a noticeable change comes over Sam’s face. The edges of its mouth pull back in what could be called a smile, but with how many teeth are showing looks almost feral. For the first time, I can truly see Sam as an it. I bring my machete up in front of me.

“That,” It says, grin wide, “is the right question.”

S: 100

D:100

W: 308

I: 97

C: 56

0

Skills: Adjust:Self