Chapter 67

PRACTICAL MATTERS

After a brief discussion about the quest that continued to blink insistently at the corner of Alexander’s awareness, they set it aside. The System wanted an answer, but it could wait.

“Medical first,” Talia said, already moving toward the nearest alien. “I need to assess them properly.”

Alexander watched her work, methodical and careful. She checked each one, using gestures and the fragments of Galactic Common some understood. The crystalline alien’s skin had hairline fractures running through it. The scaled one had old burns across its back. The one with too many limbs favored its left side heavily.

“Nothing immediately critical,” she announced after twenty minutes. “Malnutrition is the biggest issue for most. Dehydration for some. Some have old injuries that healed poorly, inflicted when they were captured.” She paused at the Syltharian, still unconscious on the metal tray. “This one is the worst, but...”

She frowned, leaning closer. “Unlike the others, they appear to have been physically tortured, though the healing rate is remarkable. The physical injuries and tissue damage are repairing themselves. Slowly, but visibly. Except for five specific points.”

“Where the suppression collars are,” Alexander said.

“Grafted to bone at the shoulders, hips, and neck, as you said. The tissue isn’t healing around those areas properly.” She stood, brushing dust from her knees. “But nothing that requires immediate intervention.”

Augustus crossed his arms. “We could get a healer. Plenty in Astra Omnia who would do it for the right price.”

“Too risky,” Alexander said immediately. “We’d have to bring them here or transport the aliens there. Either option exposes us.”

“And there’s no guarantee human healing works on alien physiology, superpowered or not,” Talia added. “Different tissues, blood, nervous systems, responses to stimuli.”

Annie looked between them. “But if they need help…”

“There’s another problem.” Alexander kept his voice low. “The System called them Dreamers. What if some of them also have powers? We can’t risk that information getting out. Especially not the Syltharian, there’s no way to hide that they have a power.”

Silence settled over the group.

Alexander asked the hard question. “Will they survive without a healer?”

Talia nodded slowly. “I believe so. They need food, rest, and time. The Syltharian concerns me most, but that healing rate... it might recover on its own.”

Alexander made the call. “No healer then. Not unless something changes. We get them fed, let them rest, and monitor their conditions while we figure out what the hell we’re supposed to do.”

“Right then.” Augustus grabbed his tablet, already making notes. “I’ll need dietary requirements.”

Talia rattled off a list based on her assessment and the fragments of information she’d gathered. Augustus’s expression grew increasingly bemused as she continued.

“Fermented tree bark. High-alkaline water. A ‘nutrient paste’ that’s mostly protein and copper. Raw fish, but only if it’s been frozen first. Crystallized sulfur compounds...” Augustus looked up from his tablet. “Is that last one even legal?”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Talia admitted.

The alien with gills had wandered closer to Annie’s bird cage, making soft trilling sounds. Chilli bobbed on his perch, tilting his head at the strange visitor. The alien’s gills fluttered faster, and it made a harmonious humming that seemed to resonate with Chilli’s occasional squawks.

“Pretty bird,” Chilli announced. “Chilli pretty!”

The alien’s six eyes widened in what might have been wonder.

“Hey, buddy,” Annie said gently, touching the alien’s arm. “Come on, let’s get you upstairs with the others. Chilli will still be here later.”

The alien made a mournful sound but allowed itself to be led away.

“Bird seed,” Annie called back to Augustus. “Don’t forget!”

Augustus glanced at Alexander, who just shrugged.

“Three bedrooms left,” Augustus said. “They’ll have to share.”

“We’ll handle it,” Talia said, already guiding two of the more mobile aliens toward the stairs.

Augustus opened a portal with a flourish of his wand. “I’ll be back with... fermented tree bark and crystallized sulfur, apparently. This should be interesting.”

He stepped through, and the portal closed behind him.

Alexander looked at the Syltharian, still unconscious, then at Miller’s tablet balanced on Droney. He reached for it, then stopped. Not today. He’d had enough of Santiago Systems’ horrors for one day. Tomorrow, maybe. When he had the stomach for it.

Instead, he headed to his workshop.

Communication was the immediate problem. They had eight aliens who barely understood them and who they couldn’t understand at all. He grabbed a spare tablet from his workbench and started downloading language packs for every alien language he could find on the net, legal or otherwise.

The translation software was the easy part. Making it work with alien languages it wasn’t designed for took more finesse. He had to crack the app open, rewrite some of its core functions, and force it to accept the new language packs.

“Should work,” he muttered, installing the modified app into Droney’s systems. “You’ll be our universal translator. How’s that for a promotion?”

He paused, looking at the drone. “You might have saved my life back there. When Miller had my emotions messed up, when I couldn’t tell what was going on. You knew something was wrong.”

Droney hovered silently.

“I wonder if you understand any of this. If there’s something in there now, or if it’s still just good programming and coincidence.”

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He reached out to pat the drone’s dome. “Either way. Thanks.”

Droney beeped once.

Alexander froze. That wasn’t a system sound. Wasn’t an error code or acknowledgment. Just a single, deliberate beep.

“Did you just—”

“Alex!” Annie bounded into the workshop. “What are you doing?”

He turned, still processing. “Translation solution. Installing language packs into Droney so we can understand the aliens.”

“Oh my god, yes! I need that. Give me that!” She thrust her tablet at him.

Alexander sighed. “It won’t be as smooth as Droney’s version. No way for you to directly interface with it. But it should work as a standalone.”

He copied the modified app, adjusted it for standard tablet architecture instead of how he intended to use it via Droney, and handed it back. Annie immediately pulled up what sounded like an alien news broadcast, and her tablet began overlaying English subtitles.

“This is amazing!” She squealed and ran from the workshop, already shouting about trying it out on their guests.

Alexander watched her go, then turned back to Droney. The drone hovered exactly where it had been, giving no sign of that moment of... communication? Awareness?

He pulled up an alien produced movie on his tablet, something with too many explosions and what looked like space pirates. Droney’s new translation system kicked in, feeding the dialogue directly into his mind through their Technopathy link. The sensation was odd, hearing one language but understanding it as English.

It worked perfectly.

“Right,” he said to the drone. “That’s one problem solved. Just a lifetime more of them to go.”

Alexander made his way up the stairs from the garage. Droney followed him from the workshop, and Alexander could have sworn its movement pattern had changed. Just slightly. A little more purposeful.

A little more alive.

The house felt different with their guests. Quieter somehow, despite the additional bodies. Perhaps it was the weight of what they’d done, what they’d taken on.

“Alex.” Talia appeared at the top of the stairs, moving toward him with purpose.

“How are they settling in?”

“Fine, mostly.” She glanced back toward the bedrooms. “One of them got hostile when we tried to put it in a bedroom. The others calmed him down, though.”

Alexander nodded.

“There’s a problem, though.” Talia’s voice dropped. She looked around the hallway, as if checking they were alone.

Alexander waited.

“They all have access to their status information. Every one of them.”

“That confirms it then.”

“No powers, though, according to them,” she continued quickly. “But they can see their attributes, and a few of them even have skills. The System recognizes them.”

Alexander leaned against the wall, processing the implications. Seven aliens who’d been abducted, subjected to failed experiments, then abandoned to waste away in cells. And the Syltharian, who’d endured far worse as Miller’s only ‘success.’ Now they all knew they were part of the System’s grand design. That they could become more than they were.

“What are we going to do?” Talia asked.

He thought for a moment, weighing options. “We wait. They need time to recover. We need time to figure out our next moves.” He gestured vaguely at the air where the quest notifications lingered. “Including whether we’re accepting either of these quests.”

Talia’s shoulders dropped slightly. “The only source of serum in Argentum is Santiago Systems. That means going back to the prison, and we obviously are nowhere near ready to handle that.”

Alexander shook his head, a small smile tugging at his mouth. “In our rush, we overlooked the obvious solution.”

“What?”

“Astra Omnia’s black market.”

Talia blinked, then looked at the ground. “How did I not think of that?” she muttered. After a moment, she raised her head, pragmatic once more. “It’ll cost us. Black market serum won’t be cheap.”

“That’s what the operational funds are for.” Alexander pushed off from the wall. “What you need to decide is whether you’re taking up the quest. And if you are, which reward you want.”

He patted her shoulder as he passed. “Think it over.”

Behind him, Talia stood in the hallway, one hand absently touching where he’d patted her shoulder, lost in thought about power and choice and what she might become.

Alexander continued toward the living room, where he could hear Annie’s excited voice trying out the translator app. Whatever came next, they’d handle it. Santiago’s retaliation, the System’s demands, eight alien refugees.

They always did.

The hovercar descended from the Alpine roads, winding through the transition where snow-capped peaks gave way to dense forest. Gabriel Santiago sat in the back, watching the scenery shift from white to green through the tinted windows. Across from him, Radiant slouched in flip-flops and a garish Hawaiian shirt, sunglasses low on his nose despite the privacy shielding. He stared out at the passing trees, seemingly disconnected from everything.

Gabriel was in the middle of a call with his chief of staff.

“The press conference has been arranged for first thing this morning, sir,” came the response directly into his mind.

“Did you arrange for representatives from all global networks?”

“It was difficult given the short notice, but yes. Santiago Systems is flying out the few who wouldn’t have made it otherwise. Private jets and full accommodation.”

Gabriel’s smile turned predatory. The EEES report had confirmed his worst fears: Miller dead, eight alien subjects stolen, damning footage of everything. But he’d already crafted the perfect counter-narrative. By the time Grimnir could release anything, they’d be branded as terrorists who murdered hundreds and kidnapped diplomatic observers.

“Very good. With this, I’ll make sure Grimnir can’t stick their heads out of whatever hole they’re hiding in without repercussion.” His fingers drummed against the leather armrest. “Every hero in the world will know their names. And just how obscenely rich they’ll be when they bring me their heads. And my prize.”

“The media containment protocols are also in place,” his chief added. “If they release the EEES footage, we’ll flood every channel with forensic analyses proving digital manipulation. Our experts are standing by.”

“Good. And if that fails, we have legal injunctions ready?”

“For every major platform, sir. Cease-and-desist orders citing national security concerns.”

With that, there were multiple layers of defense against the truth getting out.

He cut the connection with a thought.

Gabriel turned his attention to Radiant, who hadn’t moved throughout the entire call. “With you remaining as my bodyguard, I need suggestions. Another Tier 3 to spearhead the hunt for Grimnir.”

Radiant didn’t acknowledge him for several seconds, continuing to watch the forest blur past. Gabriel waited. He’d learned that pushing Radiant for immediate answers rarely yielded the best results.

Finally, the hero shifted slightly, tilting his head without looking away from the window.

“Star Titan’s closest. He’s stationed at the prison, and he’s one of ours.” His voice was lazy, almost bored. “Void Walker might be interested if the price is right. She’s between contracts. Tempest Lord owes you a favor from that mess in Seoul. Crimson Dynasty has a whole team dedicated to hunting their prey down, expensive but effective. And there’s always Pinnacle, though he’s particular about his targets.”

Gabriel considered the options. Star Titan wasn’t the strongest of those listed by Radiant, but each of them could level city blocks with ease. Any of them would make Grimnir’s life hell. And at least that would keep things in-house.

“Star Titan,” he decided. “Make the call. Tell him I want Grimnir found within the week.”

Radiant finally turned to look at him, sunglasses reflecting Gabriel’s face. “They survived multiple encounters with Franklin’s kid’s guild, and they’re not half bad. Might be they’re harder to kill than you think.”

“Everything dies,” Gabriel said flatly. “It’s just a matter of applying the right pressure.”

Radiant shrugged and went back to watching the forest flash by.

Gabriel pulled up his tablet, already composing the speech that would turn Grimnir from local villains into the most hunted criminals on the planet. By tomorrow afternoon, they wouldn’t be able to buy groceries without someone recognizing them.

His prize would be returned. The alien, the research, all of it.

And Grimnir would learn what happened when someone stole from Gabriel Santiago.