SAM

  We followed Ree into her townhouse, slipping off our shoes inside the door.

  “Like I said, Jax is upstairs sleeping, but we're fine down here. You two want a relaxing chamomile tea?” she offered as we hung up our coats.

  “Sounds perfect,” I nodded, knowing I’d be more comfortable with a warm mug in my hand.

  The townhouse was lived in, but not overlty homey like the rental cottage—clean lines. A completely different style that suited Ree.

  “So you’ve lived in Nineton your whole life?” Cora asked, pulling out a barstool.

  “Yep. Well, we came here from another sphere. But I don’t remember very much about my home world, and Nineton is the only place I really wanna be. Honey?” She pushed mugs and a honey pot towards us.

  The steaming tea was a welcome comfort. I bolstered myself, tired of the chit chat.

  “You said you could see me on Discord and Purple Road? Why? I take it you’re one of the gifted augments?” I asked, gripping my mug in two hands and inhaling the calming scent of chamomile.

  She chuckled, “Is that what you call us? ‘Gifted?’” A throaty chortle muffled the sound of her next words. “Hackers are ‘gifted?’”

  Her amusement was catching.

  “It seemed polite,” I snickered, feeling the tension winding down.

  “Well, whatever you wanna call me, yeah, I’m one of the hacker augments. And Sam, I don’t use what I can do without purpose,” she sighed, running a metal hand over her asym, platinum hair.

  I liked how the sides were shaved in interesting designs. It must’ve taken a lot of time.

  “Do you do that yourself?” I wondered, peering at her scalp.

  Her eyebrows flew up. “You mean the triangles? Yeah,” she snorted. “It’s actually something I started doing as a kid to hone my fine control. They teach you all these sequences of exercises to operate your metal hands, you know? And I figured out pretty quick that if it was my own hair on the line, I’d do a better job. I mean, if I fucked it up, I’d have to pay—“

  Cora and I cracked up, then I remembered Jax was asleep upstairs and tried to pull it together.

  “Oh my fucking god, that’s awesome,” Cora giggled, setting down her mug.

  “Well, if you got that good as a kid, you must be incredible, Ree. I bet there’s nothing you can’t do,” I admired, taking a sip of warm tea.

  “You’re pretty much right, but there are some things I won’t do, Sam, and that’s what I wanna tell you about,” she pointed to the next room. “You two wanna hang in the living room?”

  We followed her into the media room, and she switched on some quiet jazz music. I tucked my legs under me on the sofa as Ree went on.

  “I hang out on social sites, gaming platforms, multi-media entertainment, but I don’t go into people’s stream sites and messages,” she grimaced.

  “Honestly? That’s not because of ethics. It’s because of how much harder it is to hide there. I can mimic a bot on Discord easy. I’m not worried about being recognized, but the Guild stream sites are another world entirely.”

  I nodded, leaning forward. “Right. That’s my true identity.”

  “Exactly,” she nodded, looking relieved that I understood. “If I absolutely had to, I could do it. But that’s not a risk I wanna take, and I don’t need to since there’s so much I can do elsewhere—“

  Cora’s sharp voice interrupted. “And what exactly is it that you’re doing, Ree. What’s the point of all this?”

  Ree nodded, rubbing the back of her neck with one metal hand. “Yeah, you’re right to be suspicious, Cora. I try to do good, and that means I’m walking a fine line. But the thing I really wanna do is find possible Talented and help them.”

  She shrugged, then set her empty mug on an end table. “I’ll use Sam as an example since you already know your side of the story. I like multimedia. Books, shows, entertainment. Fantasy is my favorite, and I gobble it up. Plenty of it’s just carbon-copy production. But sometimes a story like Sam’s Moons Dancing comes along, and it has a signature to it that feels different. Lived in. Real. Like the person who wrote it knows.”

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  She leaned forward, arms on her knees, “I can tell quick. Probably because I know that if I wrote my story into fiction, it would sound like that too. Sounds made up enough for people to ignore unless they already know supernatural things are real. Doubters don’t need to be convinced, but believers need someone to cling to. Those are the people I wanna help.”

  Ree leaned back on the sofa, running both hands over her hair and sighing. “Things on stream go sideways so quick, Sam. It’s sophisticated what they’re doing, and that’s because it’s bots with extraordinary psychological profiling capabilities. But it’s also, occasionally, another augmented human. . . I think.”

  She looked at me with regret. “I don’t always know, to be honest. I know who I am, but the rest of the players on the board? Mystery. I’ve watched them a long time, and I’ve learned the bot behavior. That’s what I mimic. I also have human usernames, trying to make gentle connections without giving myself away. I’m running multiple personalities across platforms at once, looping identities to look both human and bot."

  She winced, "I’m pretty sure that’s what the other side's doing too.”

  I sat back, pulling the blanket tighter over my crossed legs, taking in everything she said. “That’s—god, Ree. I can’t imagine keeping track of so much.”

  “You get used to it, and it becomes a game. Actually, if you’re not careful, you can forget the stakes, so that’s one of the biggest dangers,” she chuckled. “And the biggest high! I won’t lie, it’s more fun than any virtual reality.”

  “You’re mad!” Cora snickered. “Sam, we’re in a crazy person’s house, and I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t wanna leave!”

  We all giggled a minute then Ree continued. “See, Sam, at first, I thought Smak_pans was a bot, and it might’ve been. The way it sent you a song then went suddenly quiet, ghosting. They do that a lot. Then, oh man. I’m so sorry, but that bit where they hit on you? That sort of thing is targeted.”

  "Ugh," she groaned, standing up and pacing. “This is what they do. They take everything you’ve done on stream. Your books and poems, DMs and reviews. Every time you click anywhere. The hearts and thumbs up or down, and even more: the things you see but don’t respond to. You know what I mean?”

  I looked at her blankly, trying to keep up.

  “Say you’re in a Discord General chat, and you’re all laughing about how bad blood sausage is. Then someone posts a cat video. And maybe one person gives it a heart emoji, but most of you skip it. Well, that gives them info. Everything you like—or ignore—is data. Put that together with your DMs about grief, your romance book. . ."

  My cheeks heated. God, it was humiliating—my life-long loneliness on display. Catalogued for someone else's amusement. I covered my face with my hands, leaning in as Cora wrapped an arm around my shoulder.

  “I know, Sam,” Ree said gently. “It’s the most horrible thing to watch, but that’s how they do it. Profile people and find their pressure points. And let’s be honest, most of us are lonely and hurt for one reason or another. So we’re vulnerable. Once they find the perfect combo, they turn up the heat.”

  I exploded off the sofa, arms flying in front of me, “FOR. WHAT. REASON? What do they get out this, Ree? What’s the fucking point of humiliating people?”

  She shook her head and continued in that soft, knowing voice, “Not humiliating people, Sam.”

  Her voice turned to grief.

  “Destroying.”

  Her once haughty face looked like she wanted to cry. As though it was something she’d witnessed, and her soul bore the weight of it.

  I sat back on the sofa, gaping in horror.

  “Some people don’t recover,” Ree continued bluntly, but quietly.

  “They wind up institutionalized or dead or strung out on drugs. It’s the most despicable crime happening in the shadows. And the only thing I know to do about it is to keep finding the sweet souls like you and try to help in the only way I know how.”

  I shook my head, “I still don’t get it. What do they have to gain, Ree? I mean, people who're strung out on drugs can’t buy video games, so what’s the point? There’s no profit in making people unproductive to society!”

  Ree looked uncomfortable, “I—I think it’s more than one thing, but… Well, this is hard to explain.”

  She looked straight at me, as though there would be answers in my eyes.

  “You’re different, Sam.” Her eyes flicked to Cora. “And you too, probably.”

  Cora nodded, and that seemed to bolster Ree to keep going. “If you wanted to squelch people, keep them under your thumb so they just live life without wanting to change anything? Then who would need the most squelching? Aaaargh—“ she broke off.

  Cora stepped in. “The free thinkers. People who don’t color inside the lines. Musicians. Artists… Maybe even mathematicians.”

  She stood up, excitedly waving her hands. “And that’s not all. Inventors! Even scientists or engineers who might find a way to the tenth galaxy!”

  Ree’s eyebrows rose, and my face mirrored hers.

  “People who like to sit and think, solve problems, and come up with new ideas! Writers! Poets!” My girlfriend turned to me, triumphant grin on her face:

  “Creators.”

  I stood up, joining Cora in the middle of that living room, seeing what I couldn’t before. And the last page of Ryst Nova’s Known Cosmos Book 2 ran through my mind.

  “‘The created creators,’” I nodded, and the phrase rang through my whole being with a knowledge as certain as starlight.

  Grabbing Cora’s hand, I turned towards Ree whose face was open in shock, like she’d never expected us to truly understand what she meant.

  But we’d been working this problem for weeks, primed and ready for revelations. We connected the dots, and finally, the fog started to clear.

  It was about more than augments and Talented. People with special powers weren’t the only ones being targeted!

  I took Ree’s metal hand in mine and said with confidence, “I don’t know how we weave the final scene, SassySword—friend from Discord. I hoped, dreamed, wished upon a star that I'd find someone real amongst those chats, and now I’m standing in your home in a far-away galaxy."

  "All of three of us have been alone in this way too long, but we’ve found our way to each other. And three are always stronger than one. Someone out there wants to destroy the creatives, and we’re not gonna let them win. We will find a way to make sure people know exactly how corrupt the foundations of our world are, and nothing will stop this truth from getting out.”

  And I felt it, sure and true, more than anything in my entire life. The Known Cosmos needed us, and we would not let them down.