Many compared Intelligence to his sister, Wisdom, but they couldn’t be further apart. While Wisdom craved knowledge, Intelligence pursued information. Intelligence didn’t care about right or wrong, correct or incorrect: he would accept all information equally. ‘True’ or ‘False’ was merely another data point associated with each piece of information.

Intelligence was generous with everything he knew, but his information still had a price, small though it may be. Any piece of information could be earned, simply by providing another new piece of information in exchange. In this way, many came to Intelligence to learn and Intelligence’s impressive repertoire of data only grew.

Two mighty kingdoms were at war with each other. The king of the first planned to visit Intelligence, hoping to learn everything he could about his opponent. The second king learned of the first king’s plan, and fearing his own plans would be revealed sent hundreds of his subjects to Intelligence, each with their own false reports on his kingdom.

When the first king came to Intelligence, he learned all he needed to know to win the war -- and so much more besides. Not knowing what was true and what was false, the first king could make no strategies and so lost the war.

From then on, Intelligence could find no one to accept his trades for more information. Where he used to be recognized as a great repository of knowledge, now he was just seen as a charlatan. For information without truth is the same as inedible food: useless.

- Excerpt from “Fables of the Five Siblings”

“Why is your illusion so...weird?” I ask.

It’s evening and we’ve found another grouping of trees to use as our campsite. The afternoon spent hiking has been one of the more stressful experiences of the apocalypse. Our group walked together in our normal formation, keeping alert for any nearby monsters while trying to ignore the giant spider monster only a few yards to our left.

The Alatir seemed to have no trouble keeping up with us, scuttling across the ground without asking for breaks or appearing tired in any way. I have yet to see it eat or drink anything. I don’t even know if it can eat or drink with its seeming lack of a mouth or other orifice. Which is one in an extremely long line of important questions that still need to be answered. But before that…

“What do you mean?” Sam asks. Its voice still matches that of the illusionary man, a little raspy with a southern twang.

“The expressions it made were...weird. Creepy.”

“Ah, that is how you realized I was not human then? My facial expressions?” I give a shrug and a half nod. No need to list out all the other clues. “I did not realize humans ascribe significance to such nuanced actions. I attempted to keep my illusion neutral for the most part, but you looked unsettled from my actions. I attempted a smile to disarm your suspicions. You did not receive it kindly.”

“Yeah, if that’s what you call a smile, you need help.” Styx says, sitting next to me. Melete sits on the other side of Styx munching on some food, while Sam is crouched a few yards away from us. We usually spread out a bit more when at our campsites, but with Sam around I’m afraid to get too far away from the girls. Pallas is on watch.

“Would you be willing to instruct me, so that I can better create an illusionary human?”

“Um, no.” I reply. “As it is, you could probably fool any other monsters. The only thing you would need help with your human illusion for is to fool other humans, and I’m not helping you with that.”

“How do you know how to create an illusionary human anyway? And how can you even speak English?” Styx asks.

Sam turns its eye to Styx. “The human I displayed with my illusion was one of the humans from the group I observed four days ago. I was simply copying him. His smile appeared to be an encouragement to the young humans he traveled with, even as they died.” I see Styx bring her hand up to her eyes and Melete’s fists clench against the ground. “As to understanding your language, that is a skill. Obtained from the species the Alatir call ‘the tempter,’ it allows me to understand and communicate with other creatures capable of speech after hearing a portion of their language. It is what enables me to be a diplomat for my people.”

“Then why the accent?” I ask.

“Accent?” It says. “I was unaware that my speech appeared so different as to be labeled an ‘accent'. Should I adjust it?”

Styx replies. “If you want to sound more normal to other humans, then yeah, you probably should. It’s kinda weird hearing a southern accent coming from a monster.”

“Is this better?” Styx says. No, wait, that wasn’t Styx -- her mouth didn’t move. In an instant I roll to my feet and pull out my machete. Melete drops her food and is reaching for her knives. But neither of us is as quick as Styx, who in the same time stands up, travels across the clearing, and holds her knife’s point a few inches in front of the monster’s eye.

“Don’t do that, please.” Styx says, her voice hard.

The monster doesn’t move, but it doesn’t appear intimidated either. “I apologize. I’ll keep using the original voice?” Its voice is back to what it had been, still with the accent.

“I think that would be best.” Styx says. She slowly backs off as we all sit back down, her shoulder pressing against my own.

That was...terrifying. Sam’s voice sounded identical to Styx’s. If I hadn’t already been sitting right next to her I would have been completely fooled. I reach out and grab Styx’s hand next to mine, reassured. Pallas walks into the clearing and gives us a strained smile. When I raise my eyebrows in return he turns and stares at Sam with a frown.

“We’re okay.” I say. “Just a misunderstanding.” Pallas nods before returning to his watch.

Now that we know the monster can replicate our voices exactly, we may have to extend our code.

As much as I hope Sam won’t betray or turn on us, I’m not willing to take the risk. Before we accepted it, we came up with a few safeguards to counter its illusion skill: whenever one of us is separated from the others, after rejoining we’ll show some small human expression to help prove it’s actually us. Nothing crazy -- Pallas will smile, I’ll raise my eyebrows, Styx will wink, and Melete will roll her eyes. For some reason, despite being able to replicate a human body in almost every way, it seems the Alatir have a bit of trouble mimicking subtle facial cues.

It definitely isn’t foolproof, but on short notice it’s the best we could come up with.

The silence that follows is thick. I stare at the monster across from us, and the monster stares back. I look away after a few seconds. I don’t want to get into a staring match -- I have yet to see Sam blink.

“So, are you a ‘he’ or a ‘she’?” Melete finally asks, breaking the silence. The alien doesn’t respond for a second, and when I look to Melete she simply says, “Hey, I want to know how to think of it in my head. Sam is a guy’s name, by the way.” She directs the last statement toward our guest.

The alien answers. “My species does not reproduce sexually. We are only Alatir, each and every one of us.”

Huh. No racism or sexism among the aliens? Sounds nice. But after a thought I reconsider my optimism -- there may still be xenophobia towards other species to contend with.

“I’ll just keep using ‘it’ then.” Melete says.

“From what knowledge my skill gives me of your tongue, ‘it’ is derogatory when referring to a sentient being. I believe the correct term would be ‘they.’” Sam responds.

“...I’m just going to use ‘it.’”

I sigh. Before Melete can do much more to annoy the diplomatic alien monster, I ask another question.

“Earlier you talked about skills.” Sam’s eye turns to focus on me with even greater intensity. It seems it also is eager to discuss this topic. “Can you explain a bit more as to how we get them? Is there a limit to how many we can have?”

“Of course. A skill can be acquired when one entity kills another. If there is enough of a resonance between the killer and a natural ability of the killed entity, then they have the chance of acquiring a skill for that ability. There is no limit to the number of skills one can possess, although in practice it is extremely difficult to acquire more than a few.”

“What do you mean by ‘resonance?’” I ask.

“Resonance. Synchronicity. It almost can be described as a desire, but it is more than just that. If the natural ability fits the killer, then the killer will get the ability. This is why it is difficult to have more than a few skills in practice -- it is a strange creature that can find resonance with many different abilities. This likely is also why you humans are so hunted by the many creatures added to your world.”

“Wait, what? What does that have to do with anything?”

“It is one of the more rare natural abilities among the cosmos, the gift of sapience, the gift of abstract thought. The Alatir are hunted almost as much for our own sapience, but we have our illusions to defend ourselves.” Sam says.

“You mean the monsters could gain sapience from killing people?” I ask. “Why would that be such a big deal?”

“By itself, it is not.” Sam replies. “After all, cunning, tools, traps -- sapience is not required for these. Sapience is simply a level of self-awareness and examination that enables the chaining of ideas into more complicated lines of reasoning. But it allows for other skills.”

I still feel confused. Styx sums up my thoughts with a single word. “...what?” We certainly aren’t making much of an impression on the usefulness of our supposed ‘sapience.’

“Let me explain with an example.” Sam continues. I can’t tell if it is exasperated or not by our confusion. “Fire is one of the greatest enemies of many species throughout the universe, something to fear and beware of. But there are a few species which have abilities stemming from combustion, such as the Infernal Pillar. For most creatures, even if they managed to successfully kill an Infernal Pillar they would gain no skill related to fire, for they have no resonance with the flames. Fire is their enemy -- why would they desire it? But for one with sapience...despite their fear, they can see what the flames mean. They see the power in the inferno. And foolish though it may be, they desire that power. And if that desire is strong enough, they may be able to gain enough of a resonance to take that ability for themselves as a skill. Those with sapience have a much better chance of gaining skills.

“On every world, almost without exception, the most powerful beings are those which are sapient. Not because of any cleverness or cunning, but because of the skills they acquire. And every creature, even without being able to consciously desire sapience, will attempt to gain sapience. It is instinctual. The universe advances. Sapience brings power, and killing humans can bring sapience. Every creature added to this world will try to kill humans every chance they get. They will be humanity’s enemy.”

I swallow.

Without warning, Pallas runs into the clearing. He gives a half-hearted smile in our direction, but before I even get the chance to raise my eyebrows he starts talking.

“I saw something moving in the distance! It looks like it’s coming this way.” We scramble to our feet and grab our weapons.

There is no discernible reaction from Sam, except for a final statement. "Will humanity find an ally?”

S: 100

D:100

W: 308

I: 97

C: 57

0

Skills: Adjust:Self