Super Supportive

The sun had just set, and the red street lamps were coming to life all over campus as Alden and Joe stepped into the summonarium. It was empty inside. It always was. Alden wasn’t sure if summonings just didn’t happen that often, or if Joe somehow booked the whole building every time.

Even though he knew he should be focused on the trip ahead, Alden’s mind was still reeling from the conversation they’d just had. He was afraid, excited, and confused in equal measures. And more than a little overwhelmed by it all.

How did Gorgon even know about the skill? Would leveling it in the way the designers had intended really be better than going for a more normal path? Or would Alden just be wasting time chasing after something different, but not necessarily better, than what he could more easily grasp?

Giving up new skill selection and spell impressions for something unknown sounded like a huge gamble.

“What about spell instruction?” he asked quietly as they walked over to the runic pattern Joe always suggested they use for the trip to Moon Thegund. “You didn’t mention that.”

It was listed by the System as a possible reward summoners might offer. And instruction would be different than an impression, wouldn’t it?

Even here, when he was fairly sure it was only the two of them, Alden found he couldn’t ask the specific question about authority he wanted to ask. It was locked tight by the contract and maybe, just a little bit, by his own feelings about the answer.

If he understood everything correctly…accumulating unbound authority meant he should be able to use it to cast spells, shouldn’t he? Just like wizards did. If someone would teach him.

He stood inside the pattern and faced Joe. The bomb was in a small black carrying case on the floor between them. The Artonan regarded Alden in silence for a surprisingly long time.

“Do you actually want to learn the sorts of spells wizards use?” he finally asked in an even voice. “Because you can’t just memorize any of the good ones by mimicking a set of actions. It’s not like using wordchains; those are an ancient and simple exchange, far more similar to contracts than to modern spellcraft. You’d have to start from the bottom. And magic is hard. You have some of the right qualifications for it, but the ones you lack would make it exponentially more difficult for you than for an Artonan.”

“But not impossible?”

“Probably not impossible. If you were very, very stubborn and had the necessary time and quite a lot of help. And it would benefit you in some ways. But I don’t recommend you pursue it. Especially if you think you might like it. In fact, let me say that more clearly—I strongly discourage you from studying wizardry. And I myself am unwilling to teach it to you.”

“I didn’t ask you to…”

Alden wished he didn’t feel a little hurt. It wasn’t like he had expected Joe to say, “Yes, of course, here’s a list of all my favorite spells!”

But such a firm denial still felt unexpectedly sharp.

“It’s not because I think you’re incapable. Or undeserving,” Joe said. “Just in case that isn’t obvious from our previous interactions.”

“It’s fine.”

“I can tell that it’s not from your tone.”

Alden glared at him. “I’m fine. I’m just dealing with a lot of new information right now.”

Joe sighed dramatically. “If you must learn a spell to satisfy your curiosity at some point, there are a few that are simple trinkets. They’re so easy that they barely even qualify, and even non-Artonans can perform them. I’m sure someone will offer you one at some point and present it as true ‘instruction.’ Learn those if you like. But pursuing anything more...it would be a cruel thing to do to yourself.”

Despite the sigh, he sounded sincere.

Well, all right then. Alden wanted to ask a lot more questions now, but this wasn’t the time or place. He had a job to do.

“What do I do if the dad freaks out, and I can’t take the kids today?”

“He shouldn’t,” said Joe. “I was in touch with Thenn this morning, and she says she’s had a thorough talk with him. They’re growing more concerned about some of the readings they’re getting on the detectors at the lab, so you look like a better option than you did a few nights ago, I imagine.”

Alden nodded.

A second later the familiar berry picking quest assignment popped up on his interface, but this time it looked a little different.

[QUEST OFFER: Assist Superior Professor Worli Ro-den.

Teleport to Elepta Agricultural Community, Moon Thegund, and collect marleck berries.]

[Accept/Refuse]

“I got a refusal!”

Joe tilted his head. “You were bound to sooner rather than later, you know. You’ve been very busy lately. It’s not quite as clear-cut when your posting is spread across several days and events and includes sub-assignments. But my evening quests count as individuals, and the university assigning you to multiple posts is taken into consideration. You also responded to a medical emergency. The System keeps track of it all and balances things out.”

“Can I just refuse to come to the lab tomorrow morning?” Alden asked.

“I’m hurt.”

“I’m not going to do it. I was just curious about how it worked.”

“I’m sure the System will tell you if you fiddle around with it. But your original quest with the university is still in progress. There are a couple of different ways for them to have issued the assignment, but it probably officially started the moment the orientation meeting finished, and it won’t end until the final exam is complete. Anything lab or medical team related is still on your plate for the next couple of days. If they decide to throw another party, you can refuse to participate in that.”

“Sweet.” Not that he would waste a refusal on something petty like that. But just having the option made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

He accepted Joe’s quest, and the teleport timer popped up.

“Would you pick up that case there for me?” Joe said with a smile, gesturing at his bomb.

“Got it,” Alden grabbed the case by the handle and lifted.

“Wow, it is kind of a strain,” he said, feeling a little alarmed by the sensation as he took a step back into position in the center of the teleportation pattern.

There were only a few seconds left on his timer, so it wasn’t like it would be a problem. But he was still surprised.

“Do you know the System won’t let me send it on its own?” Joe asked in a conversational tone. “You have to have permits and good reasons to teleport hazardous materials to most places.”

That made a ton of sense, Alden realized. Otherwise System teleportation would be the perfect tool for attacking your enemies.

“But when you’re preserving it with your skill, the System seems inclined to ignore the fact that it’s a separate object. Even though it must know better! Isn’t that a neat little loophole?”

“You’re saying I’m the ideal smuggler?”

“You are. Especially for a rough place like Moon Thegund. The contents of my case wouldn’t survive the trip without you even if I did have permission to deliver bombs to Elepta.”

How did I end up in this situation again? Alden wondered, hopping once to keep the preservation active. I’m sure all the steps that led me to this moment made sense individually.

But somehow he was now a person who voluntarily smuggled explosives for a criminal college professor.

An instant later, the teleportation whisked him away, and he was in that place where he could feel nothing much apart from his own authority wrapped around him. He examined it as well as he could in the brief time available to him.

I’m still miles away from understanding.

And then he was stepping out of the teleportation alcove at the farm, hitching his best confident smile onto his face to greet everyone who was anxiously awaiting his arrival.

There were six people left to rescue from Moon Thegund, and they’d all come today.

The woman in coveralls who always drove the armored vehicle and a soft-spoken younger man in a green lab coat that didn’t look all that different from Alden’s were sitting on one of the conveyor belts, popping marleck berries into their mouths while they chatted. Thenn-ar was walking around checking on the big metal bubble wands that would shield the teleportation alcove from whatever it was it needed shielding from in the event of an emergency. Her pink eyes kept flicking over to the table and chairs, where the father was having a last-minute conversation with his children.

It seems all right, Alden thought, watching them out of the corner of his eye while he feigned fascination with a dusty robotic arm that had once packed fruit into boxes. The younger child—the one Alden thought was around six or seven—seemed excited.

The older one less so.

Wouldn’t it be better if I just took all three of them together?

He understood that the father’s primary concern was something terrible happening during the teleportation, which was why nobody had brought anything else for Alden to deliver back to Joe tonight. He wanted Alden to carry just the kids.

But they were so little. It would be as easy to take all three of them as it was to carry two adults. The kids would be happier with their dad coming along, too. And that way, if something disastrous came up and prevented Alden from returning, the family wouldn’t be separated.

He resisted the urge to upset the balance by suggesting it. It’s not like they’re dumb. They’re all scientists. They’re smarter than I am most likely, and they know what the risks of staying are better than I do.

He’d finally gotten something of a handle on his position in the eyes of Joe’s assistants, and it was a strange one to navigate. They were all aware that he was inexperienced, but for most of them, his words carried weight despite that. Particularly when it came to teleportation.

It wasn’t reasonable since Alden did not understand teleportation at all. He just stood there and let it happen to him like every other human he’d ever met. He was hesitant to nudge them toward his own preferences because with the possible exception of Thenn-ar, who had a better read on him, they would all take him very seriously and have a debate about what he’d said.

Uh-oh. The older one was shaking his or her head now, lower lip stuck out mutinously.

Alden stuck his hands in his pockets, wondering if pulling out the gifts he’d brought would help or hurt the cause. He’d thought it was obvious to take the whistle, the putty, and the toy Ryeh-b’t from his capsule shelf this morning. They were for kids, and he was going to pick up kids.

But now that he was here, the situation felt a little too serious, and he didn’t want to be the kind of person who waved a bauble under a child’s nose like it would distract them from a difficult emotion. I always hated it so much when people did that to me.

It was okay if the family convo took a while. There was no rush. Alden had nearly three hours before his curfew back on Artona III, and the only thing he had to do here was grab a berry, grab the kids, and step into the alcove.

Still trying to look like he was minding his own business, he prodded one of the tiny, squishy round things on the end of the robotic arm. Instantly, a loud zzzapp sounded. He leaped back, startled, and turned to apologize to the group

“Sorry, I—”

For a split second, Alden had the impression that time had stopped. He took in everything at once, and it stamped itself into his mind, clear and crisp-edged. The driver and the man in the green coat were both frozen with berries halfway to their mouths. The father’s hand was resting on the older child’s, and he was smiling comfortingly. The little one was kicking their feet against the chair legs. Thenn-ar was bent double beside one of the shielding devices, and all four of them were glowing and crackling with throbbing pulses of white light.

Something happened, thought Alden.

He wasn’t afraid yet.

Then Thenn-ar looked up, her face twisted in pain, and her pale pink eyes met his. She screamed something at him that could only have been an order, and before the local System had even translated it, Alden was moving.

<>

Alden was at the table. The father was reaching for the older child. Girl. Alden grabbed the little one and lifted her. She squealed in surprise and elbowed him, and he realized his mistake. No entrustment.

But no…it wasn’t a mistake. He had to take them both. So get them to the alcove. The big one holds the little one. Target her. Get permission. Get back.

Oh right. Berry.

Suddenly, it seemed like an overwhelming number of steps.

But everyone was moving in the right direction.

The man in the lab coat was running toward Thenn-ar.

The woman in coveralls was racing toward Alden with a handful of berries.

Alden was holding the little girl and running for the alcove, only half aware of the fact that she was kicking him and screaming like he was a kidnapper.

Where’s the other girl?

He looked back and saw her staring at him wide-eyed from her father’s arms. He was only a couple of steps behind.

Something’s wrong. I don’t know what’s wrong.

Thenn-ar was hurt. The shield was on. Is it safe to run through it?

It wasn’t like there was a wall between him and the alcove. The tall bubble wand looking things were glowing but between them it looked like nothing but empty space. He stopped for a heartbeat at the edge of where an invisible barrier would be, and the father and the older daughter blazed past him.

It’s safe.

Alden was in front of the teleportation alcove. The father was ripping the little girl out of his arms and thrusting her toward her sister. The woman in coveralls slammed a handful of crushed berries into Alden’s palm. Everyone was yelling so fast that the translations were lagging and skipping.

<>

<>

<>

<<—the cursing swarm!>>

<>

That wasn’t Artonan.

The man had spoken Artonan, but the translation wasn’t in Artonan or English. And translations weren’t supposed to skip or lag.

“Something’s wrong,” Alden said. “Something’s wrong with the System.”

He didn’t understand what was happening.

You just zero in on your part of the job, and you let everything else go.

Hannah had told him that once, when he asked her if she ever got scared during a mission.

Zero in. I have to zero in.

He shoved the crushed berries into his pocket. He targeted the older girl. Her sister was in her arms now. Her father was speaking, but the words were getting translation garbled into something completely unrecognizable.

“Come here,” Alden said, bending down to smile at the older girl and holding out his arms. “We’ll be safe.”

Oh thank goodness. The Artonan words had just popped out of his mouth without him having to dredge them up from the depths for a change.

She stared at him, unblinking, for a heart-stopping second. Her little sister had a death grip on her, and she was leaning back in an effort to hold onto her. Then she stumbled a couple of steps forward into his grasp, and he lifted the two of them. They froze, and he threw himself into the alcove, heart pounding.

The notification that his quest was completed finally popped up.

At least, he knew that was what it must be. He couldn’t read the garbled text. It wasn’t even letters anymore. The symbols in front of his eyes weren’t from any language he knew, and they had gone three-dimensional and buzzy, like vibrating alien braille.

But it has to be the quest notification. It always happened as soon as he got the berries. All he had to do was accept the teleport back to campus.

“Accept!” he shouted, arms tight on his cargo. “Yes!”

There was another loud zzzapp, and this time Alden saw what made the noise. The shielding devices flared, and for an instant, the barrier Alden had expected to see appeared. A dome of white light surrounded the teleportation alcove, sealing it and a small space in front of it in. Joe’s assistants were all standing in that space. He couldn’t see much beyond them. Just their backs and the harsh flare of light.

It was gone almost as soon as it had appeared.

Alden still didn’t know what had caused the barrier to activate. He couldn’t see any threat. And Thenn-ar’s injuries offered no clues. It looked like her arms and chest had been burned. It seemed like something the barrier itself might have done instead of some attacker.

Zero in. Focus on what I’m supposed to be doing.

He hopped once to keep his skill active. The symbols were still in front of his eyes. They weren’t changing.

Oh no. This is bad.

The Moon Thegund System hadn’t heard him. Or it hadn’t understood him.

“Yes,” Alden said in Artonan. “Yes. Go.”

Nothing was happening.

“Contract,” he said. It was one of the first Artonan words he’d ever learned. “Contract, yes.”

He hopped. He shifted his grip on the girls. They were small children and they were Artonans, but they had to weigh at least sixty pounds combined. Holding them in one arm wasn’t something he wanted to try, but he needed a hand free. If the System wasn’t responding to verbal confirmation, maybe poking at it would work. The symbols it was showing did look like they might be designed to be tactile.

But I don’t know what they say.

He knew where the teleport acceptance button usually appeared in English.

It’s almost certainly not in the same place.

But he didn’t have a better idea. He reached out and had the surreal experience of grasping a floating symbol that felt like a knob in the middle of the air. It must have been designed for a species that needed that kind of accommodation, but Alden had no clue what to do with it. He pressed and twisted, then moved on to the next one, the next one.

The next.

Something would work. It had to.

Zzzapp!

Light flared, and this time, the barrier didn’t disappear immediately. Instead there was another series of sizzling sounds following the first. Alden stopped trying to figure out the symbols so that he could grip the girls more securely.

It was a good thing, too, because a moment later something hit them.

It looked like a random fleck of trash. Just a dark, shiny shard of something that flew off the light barrier, between two of the adults, and landed on top of the older sister’s head. It wasn’t even moving that fast. Alden could probably have dodged it if he’d been alert to the risk and aware that he needed to.

It was like getting sucker punched right in the magic.

If he hadn’t experienced the massive skill drain that came from carrying the screaming bowl in the lab, or even just the surprise factor of Jeremy punching his carried object that one time, he would definitely have dropped them.

Instead, he swore loudly and blew on the dark thing. It fluttered off the top of the girl’s head like a leaf and hit one of the runes glowing on the floor of the teleportation alcove. The rune and several surrounding ones winked out. The dark thing dissolved into a puff of smoke.

The children’s father cried out in fear and yanked Alden out of the alcove.

Okay fine. Apparently I can’t teleport right now anyway.

Half of the symbols had disappeared from in front of his eyes. He couldn’t read his own interface.

He let the man take the girls back from him and shook his arms, twisting from side to side to work out a crick in his back. The zaps had stopped, but the light from the barrier was still so strong he could barely make out the warehouse around them. The air smelled like burnt dust.

He squinted, looking for more pieces of the strange debris flying through the air, but there didn’t seem to be any.

The father was brushing through his daughter’s hair frantically where the thing had landed on her.

“She’s safe,” Alden said in Artonan. “My Avowed magic does safe.”

He hoped that sounded less dumb to them than it did to him. The woman in coveralls and the man in the coat were peering through the light barrier. Thenn-ar, her burnt arms held out slightly in front of her as if she were trying to make sure not to touch them against anything, stared at Alden with a grim expression.

Was she mad at him for still being here?

“Contract,” he said, making a sweeping circular motion with his arms to try to convey that he meant the whole of the System. What was the word for broken? Or messed up? “The Contract here is bad now.”

<< — — .. — ->>

It was a question. And she’d spoken clearly enough for Alden to pick out the word ‘everything.’

Maybe she was asking if he’d tried everything?

“Call Worli Ro-den,” he said in English and then again in Artonan, poking at the place in the air where he should have had been able to access his System communications panel.

Zzzapp. Who else could he contact?

“Call LeafSong University. Call Clytem Zhao.” Poke, poke. “Call Boe Lupescu in Chicago, Illinois. Send a text message to Bti-qwol on Artona III. Contact Stu-art’h, son of the Primary.”

Zzzapp.

“Contract, initiate communication with any Avowed on Moon Thegund.”

He tried not to look panicked as he went through the motions of trying everything. He tried not to be panicked.

“Access Wardrobe.”

Half of the symbols disappeared from in front of his eyes, and his heart leaped. But nothing replaced them. The Wardrobe didn’t appear.

Alden’s hands hovered in the air in front of his face. At this point…there was nothing. He’d tried to touch everything there was to touch. The only obvious thing he hadn’t messed with was his targeting option. The halo of light was still over the older sister. He did not want to play around with that.

Is targeting actually done by the System? Or is the System facilitating my own authority to do it somehow?

After his lessons with Joe, he was fairly confident it was the second. But that was still a big problem. Alden wasn’t sure he couldtarget someone without that facilitation.

I mean…theoretically? Yes? It’s my power, right?

But maybe he couldn’t do it without practice. And now looked like a really bad time to have a practice session. If he was magically locked onto the older girl at present, then he’d better just stay that way.

He let his hands drop. “I try everything,” he said to Thenn-ar. “The Contract here is bad now. What’s happening?”

She answered him. He didn’t understand any of the words.

But he kind of knew anyway.

Chaos levels were a problem on Moon Thegund. They worked sort of like bad weather. The System was quirky even when it was at its best. This half of the moon was largely uninhabited. Joe’s lab was here to research “demonic energies.”

We’re obviously under attack by some kind of chaos monster. Some kind of demon. Or maybe more than one of them.

Right before it had conked out, the System had translated the word swarm.

But even though Alden got it, he didn’t really get it.

He’d never seen a demon before. The people who called Gorgon one were just repeating a shitty joke as far as he knew.

He basically had the impression that they were Very Bad Monsters that were somehow dirty…like, radioactive maybe?…because of chaos. Which was Very Bad Stuff the Artonans were always trying to mitigate in one way or another, though it seemed to only be a problem out here in far-flung places like this.

It wasn’t something you had to worry about on the Triplanets or Earth as far as he could tell. Hundreds of high-ranking Avowed were used to smack down Earth’s annual demon allotment. It always went off without a hitch. Zero contamination, zero casualties.

That was all a regular human kid knew or needed to.

Oh, yeah. And the head of the Chicago Consulate got in trouble recently for consorting with a demon.

Consorting implied it was intelligent. And capable of communicating. But maybe that wasn’t a standard thing for the species or type of creature demons were?

The way the father had acted when that little fleck of garbage had touched his daughter fit with the sort-of-radioactive theory. And the fact that it had strained Alden’s skill and burned out a spot of magic on the teleportation alcove was pretty concerning.

He tried to make sense of everything and build a picture of what was going on.

So that black fleck is a piece of a demon. Or it was. It went up in smoke. That’s a little too on the nose for the name demon. It was only a piece because the barrier must have fried the rest of it.

The bubble wand barrier works like a magic bug zapper? Well, I guess that’s what you would use on something called a swarm.

Alden tried to decide if he would rather deal with a single giant chaos monster or a swarm of little ones. The answer was neither. But it was way harder to avoid a thousand small things than one big one.

Will I die if one of them touches me?

He opened his mouth to ask, then closed it again. He shouldn’t say that in front of the kids.

After a few seconds passed without any zaps, the barrier faded again. Thenn-ar barked an order, and the woman who always drove the vehicle nodded grimly. She dashed for the door of the warehouse and the man in green was hot on her heels. She went out through a small side door, and he stood beside a larger one that seemed to be intended for trucks.

We’re going back to the lab in the car?

Alden was relieved there was a plan, though the idea of a long drive across the grassland through some kind of swarm of demon bugs sounded like a nightmare. But if the lab researched demon energy it stood to reason that it was better prepared to fight them or shield against them than a berry farm.

He tried to decide what he could do to prepare for the trip. All he could think was that if it was like magical radiation, he probably ought to cover up as much skin as he could. The lab coat was supposed to be mildly protective against explosions. Maybe it worked on demons?

Sure. Let’s go with that.

Something buzzed several yards overhead. He glanced up to see a black dot. Like a big carpenter bee. It wasn’t attacking, just flying drunkenly. Thenn-ar was staring at it. So was the dad. They were both clearly poised to move.

The children had their faces buried against their father’s legs.

Alden tried to keep one eye on the thing—demon?—while he covered up. But it didn’t come after them. Instead it bonked into the metal roof, gently, like a moth batting against glass. And rather than bouncing off, it punched right through and disappeared. A tiny hole was left behind, barely visible.

He took a deep breath. It was better than an attack, but it was still terrifying. A swarm of lazy flying things that went through walls and screwed up the local System was only moderately better than the intelligent killer hive-mind scenario he’d just been imagining.

The hood of the coat zipped into a panel on the back of the neck, and Alden had been keeping it tucked away for days. He’d grown complacent now that he’d seen what the lab exams were actually like. He unzipped it and pulled the hood over his head. It didn’t fit tight to his face, which would have made more sense to him. Instead it was deep and oversized.

Joe had the weirdest taste. Alden looked like a bright red grim reaper when he pulled the thing up. The coat had an inner zipper and two rows of buttons. He sealed himself in. He wished he’d brought his goggles.

Why did I leave them behind?

The man in the green coat did something to a panel by the big door. It opened part way, and the armored car drove into the fruit packing warehouse, its metal tires grinding against the pavement.

The scientists had a very brief discussion while the driver sat in the car, frantically pushing at the dozens of buttons on her control panel. Wave after wave of light washed over the vehicle. There was a fresh burning smell in the air around it. It was obviously designed for trouble, and she intended to activate whatever safety features it had.

Thenn-ar was speaking to the others harshly. The blisters all over her arms were lending her an additional air of seriousness.

Alden’s interface wasn’t even trying to translate anymore. There were just a few random floating symbols and lights, all of them in places where they obscured parts of his vision instead of sitting in their usual minimized form around the edges. He listened as hard as he could to the conversation, struggling to understand what was going on.

He didn’t catch any of the words.

The young scientist in green started pulling the shielders out of their stands and locking them into rings that seemed to be designed for them on the vehicle. His face was pale. Alden watched him do the first two carefully and hurried over to help with the third. There were a series of latches at the bottom of the devices. He freed one and passed it over to the scientist, who only nodded at him with a bleak expression, then he went to get the last.

They’d put the children in the back seats of the vehicle, and strapped them in with the harnesses. Now the father was having a hurried discussion with the driver. She was pointing at buttons and telling him what they did.

Alden understood the words “more,” “less,” and “home.”

Something about the way it was all happening seemed wrong. He felt an unease in the pit of his stomach. He had a sense of growing dread. But he hadn’t quite taken the leap to full realization when Thenn-ar stepped over to try talking to him.

He handed the last shielder over to the man and turned to look at the pink-eyed leader. There was a buzzing sound coming from somewhere in the warehouse again. It wasn’t where he could see it, but it made his heart race. From the start of the accident until this moment, he thought, it couldn’t have been more than five minutes.

Things went wrong so quickly.

Thenn-ar said something. Alden didn’t understand.

She said it again, then she pointed from the vehicle to him, to herself, to the man in the green coat, and to the driver. She made a side-to-side gesture with her hand.

Alden recognized it. Some Artonans used it to mean no.

He looked back at the car. Girls in the back seat already strapped in, father in the driver’s seat—it had felt wrong.

“No,” he said. He wasn’t sure if it was a denial or if he was repeating the idea she was trying to convey.

“We’re not going with them?” He said it in English. He needed to figure out how to translate it. His brain wasn’t being as obliging about that as it had been earlier.

Why? WHY?

The armored car was large enough for everyone if they held the kids. It was powerful. It was even taking the shields. He wanted to scream the question, but what was the point when he wouldn’t understand the answer?

There had to be a reason. They weren’t even taking the driver.

Maybe the protections would work better on fewer passengers. Maybe it was something more basic, like weight. Maybe…maybe any of a thousand things he didn’t know.

Thenn-ar was still trying to convey the message. Her pink eyes were fixed on him. Her burnt hand was flapping the “no” sign, and she was repeating the word in Artonan.

“Does the car come back for the rest of us?!” he demanded. “Or are we just supposed to stay here and die?”

He sounded hysterical. He was hysterical. He was glad he’d lost all his second language skills momentarily so that nobody could understand him.

Although they probably did anyway. There were only so many responses to match the situation after all.

Zero in.

But there wasn’t anything left to zero in on was there? How were you supposed to do your part when your part was nothing? Alden looked around the warehouse. He didn’t know what he was hoping to see.

Help, maybe. But there was none.

He spotted his targeting halo glowing over the older girl’s head.

Shouldn’t have worried about trying to swap it, he thought. She’s not going to be around to entrust me with anything.

There was more buzzing in the warehouse now. Out of the corner of his eye, Alden saw a black dot bang into one of the robotic arms, and then it drifted slowly through it. It was a slightly different shape when it came out the other side, but it kept flying.

He had to keep his head. It was no good to freak out.

Focus. Think. Do something.

Thenn-ar must have seen that he’d gotten the message. She stepped away from him to say something to the father who was about to drive away with all the safety. Including Alden’s best chance of even having a skill.

With his target gone, he’d have nothing but Proprioception, Agility, and freaking Appeal.

Can’t forget the visual processing. When I’m alone, I’m just a semi-athletic human with nice skin and good peripheral vision. Exactly the man you want to throw at a radioactive insect swarm on an alien world!

Well, as a Rabbit, his Sympathy for Magic was actually quite high, too. But it hadn’t done him any favors so far. All it seemed to do was disproportionately draw his attention to shiny magic stuff that wasn’t his to use.

He took a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm down. He wasn’t the only one staying here. All of the others were, too. He shouldn’t make it worse for everyone else.

Zero in.

There had to be something he could do so that he didn’t feel quite so helpless and terrified.

He stared at the targeting halo. Right. Yes. Okay. That’s something.

He dug his hands into his pockets and walked toward the vehicle. Thenn-ar made a sound of protest, and Alden shook his head at her.

“I’m not going,” he said, pointing at himself and the car. “I’m not going.”

I understand I can’t go. It’s okay. I won’t flip out or try to insist. It’s okay that I’m staying.

He pulled the toys out of his pocket and held them out to the little girl who still had the glowing halo of light-that-wasn’t-light floating above her head. She stared at him.

Her little sister was bawling in the seat beside her.

“Yours,” he said. He wanted to say ‘take them,’ but this was the best he could do.

The girl reached for the toys. Alden waited until she had all three of them clutched in her small fingers, then he said, “One for me, one for you, one for your sister.”

She blinked.

Her father leaned over into the back to say something to her. She passed the Ryeh-b’t model to her sister and set it on her knee when the younger girl didn’t move to take it. Then she took the whistle for herself and passed the glittery putty ball back to Alden.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Thank you,” Alden said, trying to smile. He felt his skill activate. “Bye. Go home safe.”