Chương 69: 67: Tamed Monster

Danny cheered for me. Mercer, standing next to him on the steps leading to the front doors of the school, looked resigned. And the woman on his other side, who must be the principal, seemed torn between amused and appalled. Behind me, I heard Marino say, "Okay, okay, fine." I whistled for Z, who returned to me with her tail held high and jaunty, then turned to face the aliens. All three of whom promptly fell to their knees, heads bowed. I took a step back. WTF?

"Um…" My eyes darted between Ross and the Explorer, hoping for a little insight. Was this the standard Sarathi greeting? Should I kneel, too? I wasn't going to. That was cement that they'd landed on, and I still didn't know how I was going to do laundry without electricity. But was I supposed to? Ross looked as startled as I was, but the woman crouched next to the hunter and began talking to him in a low voice. She wasn't speaking English.

The language didn't sound like anything I'd ever heard before, but it didn't sound inhuman. Or at least not as far as I could tell. If there were sounds too high-pitched for me to hear, I wouldn't know.

"What's going on?" Danny asked as he joined me, his dad and the principal with him. I shrugged.

"Alien greeting, I guess?" I let [Analyze] linger on the explorer until her status sheet popped up. Name: Helen Stone Title: Citizen of the Multiverse (2), World First: Translator Species: Human Class: Explorer Level: 6 Condition: Optimal Citizen of the Multiverse (2) and World First: Translator? Two titles. I bet the first one was because she'd left Earth and gone to another planet. Maybe the 2 was because she shared the title with her husband, George?

Thinking of that, though—she and George hadn't been dead at all. I'd nearly told their friends that they were gone for good because there were no instances of the rift open, but they'd just exited out the other side. That would be good to remember for the future: no writing people off just because a rift instance didn't exist. I'd have to watch and see how long it took for the instances to disappear once they were empty.

I bet the average Rift Keeper knew that already, but being a Rift Keeper was going to be a perpetual game of catch-up for me, at least for a while. Meanwhile, World First: Translator? That meant she was the first person on Earth to speak an alien language. I was so jealous. Helen stood. She was an older woman, with long gray hair that fell in a braid down her back, and the kind of tanned skin that speaks of hours spent outdoors.

If people were pegs that fit in holes—we're not, but if—hers would be labelled 'Aging Hippie.' Apologetically, she said, "They wish to signify submission to your rule, but would like reassurance that your tamed monster won't kill them." I know my mouth opened, but I think I just gaped like a fish. Danny laughed like a loon. Mercer and Nakamura seemed equally indignant, objecting to the whole 'rule' part. I was still stuck on something else, though.

"Monster?" I finally squeaked.

"Zelda?" I looked at my beautiful girl. Scruffy, white, small, adorable—monster? No. Except, of course, she had just turned four times her size to jump on and growl at an asshole. I bet her teeth looked pretty big to him. And the goblins would have definitely called her a monster. All right, fine.

"She won't attack them," I grumbled.

"And nobody's killing anybody. Unless that jerk feels like dying today." I glanced over my shoulder, but the dude with the big mouth was gone. Probably off to do his own laundry somewhere.

"Are you planning on killing our people, Miss—?" Principal Nakamura's tone was acid.

"Thorne, Olivia Thorne," I told her.

"And no. My class is actually almost entirely defensive." I slipped Warden's Edge back into my pouch.

"But my defenses are strong enough that people who attack me generally regret it pretty quickly."

"I see," she said, giving me a narrow-eyed appraisal. I did the same to her. Another [Unknown]. These people really needed to get their acts together.

"Your last name's Thorn?" Danny said.

"Really? That's so cool!"

"With an 'e'," I told him.

"It's not the same." Helen was talking to the Sarathi again, and they finally stood. The healer was looking at each of us in turn, while the scavenger and the hunter were much warier, scanning the surroundings with cautious eyes. White, cautious eyes. If it weren't for the eyes, they could absolutely be human beings. The clothes were a little odd, sort of like desert camo jumpsuits. Not military uniforms, but not so far off that it would be impossible. Skin tones, generic brown.

Hair, shades of generic brown, although the Healer had highlights that almost tilted toward green. Height, pretty average, I'd say. Taller than me, shorter than Mercer. But those white eyes absolutely gave them away. The healer stepped forward. She spoke, the words directed at Helen, but her eyes were on Mercer.

"This is Raila," Helen said.

"And she'd like to heal you, Dan."

"Heal me?" He didn't quite recoil, but it was close. Helen spoke to the healer again, then turned back to Mercer.

"She says you are dangerously fatigued. It is impairing your well-being. Her words, not mine."

"Ha." I couldn't help myself. I'd told him that very same thing an hour ago. Mercer shot a wry glance in my direction, then bent his head. It was acknowledgement, maybe not quite permission, but Raila lifted her hand and a green glow surrounded him. By the time he lifted his head, the gray fatigue in his face had disappeared. The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. I took a look at his status sheet, just to see, and his condition was now Optimal. Nice.

That would be a handy ability to have. I'd never need to sleep again. Not that I wanted that. I liked sleeping and would really love to have some more of it. Was I on my second or third all-nighter? I was losing track. Still, the safety potential of not needing sleep until I solved my Barrow problem was very appealing. In my brief moment of distraction, Raila had opened a small bag she was carrying, reached inside, and pulled out two blue stones.

She said something in a language I couldn't understand, and handed them to Helen, but she was looking at me. I used [Analyze] on the stones. Item: Ability Stone [Universal Language] Type: Consumable Grade: Uncommon Condition: New Description: A polished blue mana-stone that permanently grants [Universal Language], enabling comprehension and communication with any other sapient who shares the ability. Requirement: Minimum Level 5. Intelligence 5+. Warning: Single use. The stone is destroyed upon activation.

I wanted it. Oh my gosh, I so wanted it. Sapient languages? That meant all human languages, too. I could go into my favorite Thai restaurant, a little hole in the wall in Ocala, and talk to the proprietor instead of just exchanging polite half-bows. Well, I mean, if the restaurant survived. If the proprietor survived. And if the proprietor picked up the [Universal Language] skill. Okay, I still wanted it.

"These are—" Helen began, holding out the stones.

"Universal Language ability stones," I interrupted, almost quivering with excitement. I looked at Danny.

"Do you have 5 points in Intelligence yet? If you don't, we've got to figure out a way to get you there."

"I do," he said, reaching for the stone with a glance at Helen to confirm it was okay. She nodded and handed me the other one. I had no idea what to do with it. Was I supposed to eat it, like I had my pastries? Because it did not look delicious.

"Just close your fingers around it and focus and the System will…" I didn't wait for her to finish. Activate ability stone? Warning: This item will be consumed upon use. Yes, I told the system gleefully. You know the casual conversations you have with friends or little kids on long car rides about what the best superpower would be?

Healing is obviously first if you've ever spent long hours sitting with someone who's dying of cancer much too young, but most people choose flying after that or super strength or invisibility. Not me. I've always wanted something like this, an ability that would let me understand everything.

"Lord, we petition for sanctuary," Raila said, bowing her head.

"We would pledge our service, our tools, in exchange for room in your verdant fields." Okay, I guess maybe understanding didn't necessarily mean understanding. Was she talking to me? The scavenger dropped to one knee. Not the full sort of prostration they'd been doing before, but a definite obeisance.

"Lord, we beg for your mercy. Our world is dust and our people starve. Grant us shelter, and we will serve you all the days of our lives. Our children's children will serve you willingly for all the days of their lives if you allow us into your world." I would love to tell you right now of some more excruciatingly embarrassing moment in my life—except there was none. This was by far the most horrifyingly embarrassing thing that had ever happened to me.

The only good news was that only Helen and Danny could understand what they were saying. The hunter dropped to one knee. Before he could open his mouth, I said, "Oh, no, God no, please stop." Raila dropped to both knees and put her folded hands up like she was about to pray to me, and before she could say a word, I exclaimed, "I mean, yes, yes, let's talk about it. How about you all get up and we go inside and we, like, have a conversation like civilized people and, like, no more of this… um… this…"

I gestured to indicate the kneeling.

"No more of this." Danny, the jerk, couldn't stop laughing. I turned my head and glared at him and whispered, my voice ferocious, "You do realize that I'm leaving, right? I've got to go home. You're gonna be the one dealing with this, because you and Helen are the highest level people in your entire town." He stopped laughing. Helen was smiling, though. In English, she said, "Levels are very important to them. They basically power-leveled me so they could give me a language stone.

I think they think of me as being somewhere between a pampered child and a performing monkey." Raila sent her a shocked look and said, "Sera Helen, have we not treated you with immense respect? Kindness? We offered you water!"

"Yes, sorry," Helen apologized immediately.

"Ocean world, I don't value water as highly as I should, I know. I am learning from you every moment, Sera Raila." She did a little half bow and on her way back up, she met my eyes and shrugged, mouthing, "Oops," as she did. Right. Universal language was a two-way street. There would be no private conversations.

"All right, well, I guess I am the highest-level person here, so I'm gonna say that we should all go inside and sit down and maybe introduce ourselves and, you know, talk." I gave Principal Nakamura a desperate look over my shoulder, and she stepped forward.

"That sounds like a wonderful idea." The next few minutes were a weird little dance. The Sarathi had rules. We did not know the rules. They sort of accepted that we did not know the rules, but they also clearly thought of us as uncivilized heathens for not knowing them. And Zelda—well, let's just say the concept of 'pet' was not in the Sarathi lexicon. Zelda was a tamed monster and I was somewhere around goddess level for having a Level??? tamed monster. So incredibly fucking embarrassing.

I was almost glad that Jules wasn't here to see this. Of course, I would also have been ecstatic if she was, but at least there was a positive side to her absence. A teeny-tiny, minuscule positive side, but it was there. Eventually we made it into a conference room near Principal Nakamura's office, although apparently it was beyond horrifying that I hadn't led the way.

I was not going to point out that a) I didn't know where I was going and b) going first just makes it easy for people to stab you in the back, but I definitely thought both those things. Once everyone was seated, the conversation began. Long story short: the Sarathi had done much the same thing to their world that we were in the process of doing to ours. But the Multiverse had felt less inclined to intervene early because they had no oceans, therefore no dolphins, whales, and octopi in need of saving.

Their integration had been a disaster for them, and hitting the hundred percent mana density level hadn't helped. Sure, they had their tech back, but their world was a desert now, and they were trapped in a perpetual battle against technology that was implacably hostile to biological lifeforms. Their cities were graveyards patrolled by robots that had turned against them; their land was dust; their children were hungry. And then a rift opened, and on the other side was green. They weren't hostile.

They'd come prepared to be reasonable, expecting to bargain. And also hoping—given the levels of the first two humans they'd met and understanding that this was a brand-new System integration—that a polite takeover might be possible. (It wasn't said aloud, but a not-so-polite takeover had probably been on the table, too.) Now they knew better. So: new plan. Sanctuary, please.

In exchange for everything they knew about the System, about surviving an apocalypse, about mastering levels and abilities and attributes and all of the mysterious jargon that had stymied me in the challenge scenario. They had information. And information was power. Also: they knew how to make ability stones. Apparently common and uncommon ability stones were relatively trivial; rare and above required more resources and were more difficult to access.

But the common abilities included [Identify], [Mend], [Night Vision], [Auto-map], [Danger Sense], and, you know, basically every ability I'd ever wished I'd had.

"Yes," I said to Mercer, Nakamura, and Ross. The conversation had been, frankly, incredibly tedious, because the three people with some vestige of actual authority over the town weren't high enough level to communicate with the Sarathi directly.

"You need to say yes to this."

"We don't even know how we're going to feed ourselves over the next few months," Mercer said. Despite that lovely rejuvenation he'd gotten, he was the one who seemed most antagonistic to the Sarathi.

"You're not committing to feed them," I said.

"You're letting them in." I didn't say, "And you can't stop them, so don't even pretend you can," but I thought it.

"And in exchange, they're going to help your people level up. They're going to give all of those—" I waved my hand toward the school beyond the principal's office, "—desperate unleveled people a chance to get stronger. A chance to survive. Also, abilities. Abilities that everyone needs." I nodded toward Raila. It felt both awkward and honest to be having this conversation in front of them, knowing that they understood my words even if they couldn't understand Mercer or Nakamura.

Honestly, I wanted to be so much more explicit. As was the American way, San Celeste was going to exploit the hell out of these immigrants. And, you know, in the abstract, I disapproved. In the concrete, this was survival. This meant the fish in a barrel could become, at the very least, fish in an ocean.

"Dan," Helen said softly. He looked at her, expression grim.

"I'm Level 6 now," she said.

"In the grand scheme of things and maybe compared to—" she gestured toward me, "—our savior—" OMG, what??

"That doesn't mean much. But if a mana-crazed raccoon attacked me right now, I could kill it without blinking. Tell me the same is true for half the folks in those classrooms, and okay, maybe this is worth thinking about. But you and I both know that if one of those mana-crazed creatures broke in here right now, most of those folks would die." She tilted her head toward Raila.

"The Sarathi can help. And this is a fair exchange. A trade. They set up in some of the empty houses, they help people level up, they farm, we get ability stones. This is good for them, but it's good for us, too." Okay, I was not going to freak out about that savior business. But it was definitely time for me to go home.