Daughton sat alone in his office, thinking.

Barely an hour ago, the young girl, Kelly, had come to him with a proclamation of doom in three days. A proclamation that demanded immediate action -- at least according to her.

Daughton had managed to bear his ignorance for this long, but after a statement like that he found he could bear it no longer. So far, every change he’d made on her words had been minor, small things that he might have done even without her input. But this was different.

He had demanded answers from the girl -- how did her skill work? He couldn’t take the drastic actions she requested without anything more to back them up.

And eventually, she relented. She had stared in silence at Daughton for a full ten minutes first, eyes glowing brighter than he had ever seen, but finally she spoke, explaining her mystical skill.

Seeing the future.

He shouldn’t have been surprised, but he was. Even in the realm of fantasy, it was a gift so powerful that those who possessed it were almost always handicapped in some other way to compensate.

Of course, the skill was not as all-powerful as it may seem. She could only see the ever-splitting futures of people she was looking at, and then only as far forward as she was willing to endure. Which was why it took so long for her to give this dire warning.

And after some more questioning, Daughton found her prediction might not be quite as dire as she described. While most of the citizens she looked into died in many possible futures in three days, it was by no means all of them. It was difficult for her to pinpoint exactly what might cause one future to happen over the others, especially when those futures were hours, or in this case, days, removed.

His intel just got much more muddied.

- Sgt. Daughton, Inclusion +32 days 11:02 hours

Five days have passed since our first trip out of Bothell. We’ve made three more trips since then, all of them with just the four of us. Well, the four of us plus Sam.

Sam doesn’t seem to mind simply waiting for us to come to a decision regarding the future, and during our last trip we all sat down and had a long talk about the possibilities. Sam still isn’t convinced that Bothell is a viable option for us long-term, and while I’ve grown to trust Sam in regards to its expertise of the inclusion, it’s still a novice when it comes to humans and our capabilities and behaviors.

Though we’re able to fight monsters almost on the daily now that we regularly leave town, it isn’t anywhere near the constant level of growth from combat we experienced while traveling between Clayton and Bothell. And yet, despite the growth of my Numbers slowing to a crawl...I find I don’t miss it as much as I thought I would.

There’s just so much more to enjoy within the walls of Bothell than on the outside.

Styx and I walk hand-in-hand across town, waving to the woman selling skewered and seasoned dog-monster meat on the side of the road, but otherwise just enjoying the sunshine.

Today is Sunday. I’d long ago lost track of the days of the week, a meaningless appellation when a monster can attack just as easily on one day as on another. But now that we’re in something more approaching normal society, having a regular schedule, including breaks from that schedule, is inevitable.

Melete is watching Zach and the twins for the Zimmermans, who are enjoying some time off to talk and reconnect with their older son. Ms. Kathy is, as usual, working with her ‘old ladies’ sewing club,’ as she calls her new group of friends. Which leaves Styx and I with nothing to do for the whole day -- a situation I’m intending to enjoy to its fullest.

“...and that’s your issue! If you try to take it all literally, of course it will sound shallow. The dirt is a representation of being at the edge of society, of being rough around the edges. And his willingness to do other stuff despite the dirt shows his love for the woman in the song, and his willingness to cross the artificial borders of society is a demonstration of how far he will go for her.”

“Okay, I can see how that makes sense,” I say, nodding slowly. “And that other song’s lyrics? I believe they were, ‘Oh oh, so hot, still got it…?’”

Styx bumps me with her shoulder. “Hey, they can’t all be winners! Let’s go back tonight. They’ll grow on you after a few more listens.”

Last night we attended a concert, one form of entertainment that’s starting to occur more frequently in Bothell now that most people’s basic needs of security and sustenance are fulfilled. Somehow, Styx persuaded me to listen to country music, a genre I normally avoid like the plague, and ever since she’s been trying to convince me that it’s better than simple musical trash. “Wait, you mean that wasn’t just a one-time thing? Ughhhhhhhhh,” I release a drawn-out groan in mock horror, and Styx bumps me again before we both laugh.

The concert didn’t have any electricity, which meant no electric instruments or microphones. And it was in a genre of music that I normally despise. But after seeing Styx’s dress and being reluctantly led around the dance floor by the tall smiling girl...I have to admit that I’m starting to see the appeal.

Despite enjoying the day off, I don’t relax my training entirely. Like always, I have several small modifications scattered over my body that I occasionally shift in place. And I take advantage of our surroundings to practice my bond skill in a new way.

After some experimentation, I’ve found that a person doesn’t actually have to know about the bond in order to accept it. They obviously still feel the general sense of a question when I extend the bond to them, but there’s no further information conveyed than the ‘yes or no’ question. And once they accept, the bond is invisible to the one it’s connected to as long as I don’t send any messages.

And after testing, I’ve found that as many as twenty percent of the strangers who I attempt to bond with will blindly accept.

Of course, this brings up the question of the morality of using my bond skill on unsuspecting strangers, and the obvious invasion of privacy my bond skill represents. Because while most people have a somewhat surprised look on their face when they feel the ‘question’ of the bond, that surprised look quickly fades, regardless of whether they accept or decline the bond. I can only assume that they dismiss the bond request as a figment of their imagination or as an internal revelation.

In my testing with my friends, my bonds aren’t able to be broken by the recipient of the bond either, even if they fall asleep or unconscious. Which only further emphasizes the moral issue of placing bonds on people without their explicit knowledge or approval. Although I get the feeling that the bond might be able to be broken by someone with a comparable intelligence or wisdom Number.

Either way, I resolve not to form bonds long-term with anyone without explaining the skill to them first. But in the meantime, I don’t feel that there’s any harm in forming temporary bonds with strangers as we walk around town, for the purpose of training.

Only about two in ten people accept my bonds, but as we walk down the streets we pass hundreds in just a few minutes -- plenty for me to practice. In addition to training my multitasking, helped along by my large intelligence Number, I keep each bond for only a few seconds, attempting to adjust to the new perspectives as rapidly as possible before just as quickly removing them.

In the past, forming a new bond takes a few crucial seconds of adjustment before I’m able to properly understand any of the information passed to me from the new perspective, a weakness I’m intent on remedying. Hopefully the number of bonds I can maintain simultaneously will keep improving and I won’t actually need to worry about forming new bonds to my friends at a moment’s notice, but a weakness is still a weakness, no matter how minor.

I would feel bad about training while walking with Styx, but she’s just as dedicated. She’s been taking turns with each of us, practicing nullifying each of our skills with just a touch every chance she gets. It only lasts for a few minutes before we get our skills back, the time seemingly random each instance, but slowly the average duration is increasing.

Unfortunately, nullifying someone’s skills via a touch rather than by removing all skills in an aura around herself is still extremely difficult for Styx. It takes her less than a minute, but she’s left weak and shaky for almost an hour afterwards. Which means it isn’t a skill she can easily practice as we walk together around the city.

Which turns out to be a good thing. Because if she had been, I wouldn’t be practicing forming and releasing my bond skill with those strangers around us. Which means I wouldn’t have noticed our tail.

The girl sticks out of the crowd like a sore thumb. By itself, a young girl wandering alone through the city would be unusual. But couple that with her glowing orange eyes, and she’s a sight unusual enough that most would immediately take notice.

For the last month, though, I’ve become accustomed to watching for monsters or anything unusual in the quiet of the abandoned wilderness, not in crowded city streets. I’m not used to staying alert while surrounded by hundreds of talking humans going about their daily lives. So if it weren’t for my bonds, I wouldn’t have noticed anything amiss.

But with my bonds, it’s impossible to miss. Because every time I change my bond to someone new, the girl is staring right into the eyes of my new perspective with her own glowing orange orbs.

Once or twice I could dismiss as a coincidence. But every single time? Anyone who I bond with who glances even remotely in her direction immediately meets her unblinking stare, only broken when she shifts her gaze to a new set of eyes as I bond someone else.

It’s terrifying, and as soon as I make the realization, the girl nods, and beckons with one of her hands to the side of the road.

I dismiss all my bonds, leaving an older woman confused as to why the orange-eyed girl gestured at her. I pull Styx to a stop with our interlocked hands.

“One minute,” I say. “We need to check this out.”

Styx frowns at me, confused by the sudden seriousness in my face. I lift my left hand slightly, just enough to draw her attention to it.

Danger, I sign to her in our crude sign-language, mostly discarded since I gained my new skill. But this girl seems to have some way of detecting who I’m bonded with, and I don’t know what else she might be able to sense.

Styx’s eyes harden as she replies with a small nod. Our hands separate and drift to hang near our belts, less than an inch from the weapons there.

Grim-faced we walk to where the small girl stands waiting beside the road. Her orange eyes stay fixed on me as we approach, uncomfortable in their intensity. Her gaze strips me bare, and I feel as if she’s seeing so much more of me than I’d ever choose to reveal. Her eyes must be related to some vision-based skill, but what could it be that I’m left feeling like this just from a look by a girl barely older than the twins?

She stays focused on me until we stand directly in front of her, at which point she glances at Styx. And her eyes widen in surprise as her jaw drops.

“What’s wrong with you?!” the girl asks.

“Excuse me?” Styx replies with a raised eyebrow. “That’s not very polite.”

Surprisingly, the girl’s cheeks flush a bright red and she glances to the ground, but after only a moment she looks back up to Styx, seemingly too entranced to look away for more than a second. With that simple action, she looks so much more like a ten-year-old girl than she had before. How could I have been intimidated by her?

“Sorry,” she mumbles, “but how? It’s like you don’t exist, or something.”

“Why don’t you tell us why you’ve been following us, first. And how you were able to detect my skill,” I say.

“So it was a skill you were using with all those people? And how I was able to tell is kinda hard to explain…” she says.

“Try us.”

“I can see people’s futures, and how those futures relate to others,” the girl says quickly.

We stare at her silently.

She just stares back, waiting.

Eventually, Styx breaks the silence. “That really didn’t seem too hard to explain.”

The girl jumps in place, as if surprised to find Styx standing with us. “I...I guess not. But you believe me?”

Styx shrugs. “Why not? We’ve seen stranger skills.”

The girl’s eyes tear up as she reaches forward to hug Styx, who stiffly accepts the hug and awkwardly pats the girl on the back.

I’m not entirely convinced -- after all, how exactly could telling the future let her see who I’m bonded to? Maybe something in the ‘relating to others’ bit of her skill?

For now, though, I decide to give her the benefit of the doubt. “So why were you following us, then? See something interesting in our futures?”

The girl jumps back from Styx, looking at me strangely. “You believe me too? This is so weird…” she mutters to herself. “It’s...harder to see stuff around you, I think,” the girl says to Styx. “But why was I following you? Cause Sergeant Daughton needs your help.”

“Darn it, Kelly, I told you not to involve anyone else,” the man ‘Kelly’ introduces as Daughton glares down at the small, orange-eyed girl who sits on the bench, completely unfazed. “Sorry, Atlas and Styx, was it? I’m not sure what she may have told you, but no matter what she may believe, she doesn’t speak for me or for Bothell.”

Styx stands a few inches behind me, as if inviting me to take the lead in this conversation. I understand her hesitance. While Daughton is above average height and in clearly good physical condition, he is tiny compared to the behemoth that is Pallas’ dad. But there’s an intensity to his presence, a sense of immutable authority over those around him. Not in an oppressive or evil-seeming way, like Jeremy from Fort Carscott. But just the feeling that this man needed to be obeyed, for the greater good.

“She didn’t tell us much, sir,” I begin. “Only that she can see the future, and that you need our help. We didn’t even know her name is Kelly.”

“It likely isn’t,” Daughton replies. “But the little brat refuses to tell anyone her real name, so she’s just called Kelly. Now why don’t you tell all of us why you brought them here. We’re prepared for the monsters, and there’s nothing else you’ve brought up recently that I might need ‘help’ with.”

“But you’re not prepared!” Kelly says from the bench, legs swinging below her. “You think you are, but you aren’t! You need to evacuate!”

“I can’t do that, not without actionable intel. I have no idea what’s going to be attacking us, only your word that we will be attacked. If I order an evacuation, half the citizens will choose to stay behind unless I can give them a convincing reason to leave, and the other half won’t be able to make it more than a few miles with the food we’ll be able to ready in two days’ time. Now, I’ve got scouts ready to report at the first sign of the monsters approaching, but until we get some info on them, all I can do is prepare our defenses as much as we are able. Now if you could just give me some more details regarding what we’re going to face...”

“You know I can’t do that!” Kelly pouts. “I just know that if we don’t run, a lot of people’s future’s end.” Styx and I watch with wide eyes as the sergeant and young girl bicker like schoolchildren about the lives and continued survival of Bothell. “But earlier today, I found this guy. And he can save most everyone, even if we don’t run!”

The sergeant’s eyes shift from the girl to me. He looks me up and down, taking in the knife belted to my waist and my long sleeve shirt that hides both of my arms. “Really...what makes him so special?”

“I...don’t know exactly. It’s not just him, either. He has ties with other people who can help, too.”

“But you don’t know how?” Daughton asks. “That’s awfully unspecific, even for you.”

Kelly huffs. “Don’t blame me. So much of him is muddied, somehow. Not blocked, really, but...not clear, either.”

“Interesting.” The sergeant stares at me, his intense scrutiny even worse than Kelly’s, despite the normal nature of his eyes. Finally, he breaks the standoff. “I guess he and his friends can be present when the monsters attack. Safely behind the wall, only to help if needed. If they are willing, of course. Is that enough?”

Kelly’s orange eyes glow just a bit brighter as she stares intently at Daughton before she replies, “Yeah, I think so.”

“Still on schedule for tomorrow night?” Daughton asks.

“Yeah, that’s not gonna change.”

“Well then!” Daughton claps his hands and steps back. “Atlas and Styx, if you and your friends are willing, come to the fifth street gate tomorrow at sundown. If not...well then enjoy your evening. Please don’t spread rumors of what you’ve seen here.” Daughton turns on his heel and marches away down the street.

“Were we just drafted?” Styx asks in bewilderment. I shrug in confused agreement as Kelly hops off of the bench and sprints away, opposite from the retreating sergeant.

“And you’re sure there’s no consequences if we don’t show up?” Pallas asks later that evening. Styx, Melete, and I sit in a circle with him, mulling over our options.

As crazy as the situation seems, we aren’t pressed for time when it comes to how to address it, so we let Pallas finish his free day with his family before calling a meeting. One of the first things we did after starting our raids outside of town was restock our supply of non-perishables -- we’re about as prepared as we can be if we need to leave town in a rush.

“Seems like it,” I reply. “At least not from the sergeant. The girl, ‘Kelly’, claimed dire consequences for the town if we aren’t involved, but...I’m willing to take what she said with a grain of salt.”

“You don’t trust her skill?” Melete asks.

“Maybe? She certainly has some type of skill, and it allowed her to see who I was bonded to immediately as I bonded them. The sergeant certainly believes she can see into the future, at least somewhat, but based on the fact he isn’t evacuating the city like she suggests implies there’s some skepticism there. Probably the biggest issue is that she’s still a young girl, barely older than the twins. Her skill might be super powerful and all-knowing, but she still has to interpret what it tells her, and then pass that information on to us.”

“Is there any harm in showing up? We don’t have to fight if we’re not needed, but if we are, at least we’ll be there,” Styx says.

“That’s what I thought, but I wanted to check with everyone first. This isn’t like before, where we’re required to fight for our own survival. We have people whose jobs are to protect citizens like us, now. This is all optional,” I say.

There’s a moment of silence, and then Pallas speaks up with his deep voice. “I don’t think so. Not really.” We look at him and wait silently while he takes a deep breath, visibly gathering his thoughts. “I was talking to my parents today, and as much as they don’t enjoy me being in danger...I need to be. Because someone has to be, in this new world. And I don’t know if you all realize how far ahead we are compared to everyone else, but my dad says my Numbers are higher than anyone else he’s seen or heard of since the inclusion, and he works with the guys who regularly leave town to fight monsters, the strongest people in Bothell. And that’s not even accounting for our skills. This power, it comes with privileges...but also with responsibilities. Because if monsters are going to attack Bothell tomorrow, we’re the ones most likely to survive unscathed. And so we’re the ones that need to be there to fight them. I don’t think it’s even really an option.”

I look around our small circle. Melete and Styx nod in agreement, although Styx has a strange expression on her face. I raise an eyebrow in her direction, but she just shakes her head minutely in response.

“It’s settled then. We’ll meet tomorrow an hour before dusk at the fifth street gate. Bring all the weapons, but leave the backpacks. I’ll go out of Bothell tomorrow to update Sam, anyone want to come with? It won’t be a full reclaimer raid, so I can do it solo if needed.”

“I’ll come,” Styx volunteers, while Pallas and Melete stay silent, a small smile tugging up the corner of Melete’s mouth.

“Sounds like a plan then. It’s been a long day, so I’m gonna hit the sack.” My friends nod and we separate, Pallas walking back through Bothell to his parent’s house and Melete helping Ms. Kathy ready the twins for bed.

“You okay with the plan?” I ask Styx once the others have left, standing outside the door to the office that’s our new home.

“Yeah…” Styx says. “It’s not the plan that I have an issue with. It’s just...what Pallas said.”

I frown, thinking through Pallas’ uncharacteristically long speech. “Really? What about it?”

“It’s just more of the same!” Styx says, emotion suddenly apparent on her face. “I get where he and his parents are coming from, and it’s a noble sentiment, but after the inclusion, and all our Numbers resetting, I was just hoping for something a little different.”

“Ah,” I say, suddenly understanding.

“It’s just more of the hierarchy of Numbers! We’ve been in society for less than a week, and it’s already back.” She reaches out, and I pull her into a tight hug.

“I don’t think Pallas or his parents are the type of people who would ever demand privileges because of their Numbers,” I say, rubbing her back.

“Sorry, yeah, you’re right. It’s just...it’s frustrating. It’s the attitude, the idea of ‘noblesse oblige’ that spawn the idiots who believe the reverse: that because someone’s Numbers are higher, they deserve privileges and rights over others. It’s what my parent’s dedicated their lives to fighting, and even after the apocalypse it’s still around.”

“If you really have an issue with it, we don’t have to go to the gate tomorrow…” I suggest, but Styx pushes back away from me, looking me in the eye.

“That’s not the issue. I completely support fighting, especially if it saves people’s lives like Kelly said it would. It’s just...why do our Numbers have anything to do with it? If someone is able, they should do what they can to help those around them. It shouldn’t come back to how high their Numbers are…”

I kiss her lightly on the lips before pulling her back into a hug, while she rests her head on my shoulder. We stand quietly, because I don’t know what to say.

I can understand Styx’s sentiments. But...we have the Numbers. What else can we do, but compare them? Especially when we’re fighting for our lives, and our combat capability is directly proportional to our Numbers?

But I don’t say any of this out loud, instead just holding Styx tight.

S: 182 (+19)

D: 204 (+18)

W: 403 (+1)

I: 401 (+1)

C: 102 (+1)

0

Skills: Adjust:Self, Bond:Mental