There is no wrong time to make the right decision.

Pre-Fall politician.

Harold Wexler was trying to make sense of the report that had landed on his desk. Dropped, rather, by both the Undersecretary of Internal Affairs herself and his Intelligence Special Agent, Robert Henley. The two had joined forces for this, as foreign stuff technically fell under Robert’s umbrella. Even in this case of muddled responsibilities, like the stateless territories of the East Coast mana zone.

“Wait, so there is an unknown Changed species?” the Executive finally said as the import of what was presented settled in.

“The original report got there on a full express. They – well, their emissary – literally knocked at the door to the mayor of Cheat’s office, asking to talk and open up ‘negotiations’. Nobody even saw her come into the building.”

Harold peered at the details on the written exposé.

“Three-foot tall with sunglasses?”

“They call themselves the Mooneyed. The woman – Monica Silvers – says they’re mostly nocturnal. They see extremely well in the dark, but get problems with too much daylight.”

“And they live in the East Coast death zone… Camp David? What the?”

“Read about it in old history. It was a kind of safe retreat for the former Executive of the pre-Fall United States. They got hit by a Changestorm early on, apparently… and they use tame Canids as mounts and troops against the local Changed beasts.”

“Maybe we should tame some Changed beasts of our own if that let them survive in the East Coast zone. And nobody saw her come in?”

“Mrs. Silvers says she used mount-skills, or what the mayor thinks is how they call Talents.”

Harold looked up at Katia, frowning.

“She says both her Canid mount and herself have something she calls Reconnaissance, which lets them move around without anyone noticing.”

“Okay, so they lived in the death zone for a century and a half… and they just made contact. What changed?”

Katia looked at her notes and her copy of the report.

“She followed an expedition. The ‘Mooneyed’ spotted and followed a large expedition of what she says was ‘Tallers’ – normal people? – up to Washington DC. And back to the town of Cheat. That’s where she made contact, after spying a bit and getting the go from her bosses.”

“I seem to remember some expedition to the East Coast. Didn’t you report about one, like three months ago?” Harold asked.

“It sounds like they were successful. I haven’t heard about it, not yet. It’s probably a report in a pile somewhere,” she replied.

“And what do those Mooneyed wants?”

“Assistance. Or maybe refuge. She says they always have problems with Changed Beasts, even with the help of their tame Canids, and if they can resettle in safer lands, they want to. Seems on par with the East Coast mana zone. Even Cheat would be better.”

Harold almost laughed. Cheat was famous for almost always sounding the alarm first during beast waves, as it usually got hit early on.

“But the next part barely makes sense.”

Wexler looked back at the report.

“She says the Mooneyed want assistance to get ‘more mount-skills’. The mayor couldn’t make sense of her explanations, but apparently, she believes we can give them Talents somehow. She says that’s what the expedition she followed was after. They went to Washington to create sheets she says give ‘mount-skills’. And that’s how she got those Talents, plural. It’s very confu…”

Katia suddenly stopped.

“People suddenly getting Talents,” Robert said slowly.

“In Ancient ruins? Like in the Montana?” Harold wondered.

“That does sound suspiciously like what the Warden is after. My agents say he’s recovered an Ancient Skeleton-turned-Artifact but doesn’t seem to be able to use it. Did that expedition find one in the east? Duplicate Artifacts are rare, but not unheard of,” Robert said.

Katia re-read her report notes.

“She did not specify exactly how that expedition got that to work. Just that they were making some kind of sheets listing Talents. But they want those anyway, to allow for defense and travel. She hoped to speak to an ‘elder’ who could negotiate for them.”

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“Diplomacy. I am going to get Marc in here and then send him there immediately, find what they are precisely looking for, and, well, negotiate. Independence was always welcoming to refugees during the Wars of Unification.”

Robert laughed lightly.

“You know what? We live in interesting times. This is the first contact with a Changed species of people since, well, since before those.”

“Let’s hope it’s not the precursor to one,” Harold replied.

“Don’t worry, Executive. The last dispatches I got from the Northwest show no real progress since they managed to move that Artifact to New Benton,” Robert said.

“We should be so happy for that to continue. Well, compared to that, this current turn of events might be more peaceful. Find out about that expedition report. If they found another relic like the Warden’s, it might be very important,” Harold ordered.

Harold Wexler was still trying to sort through various scenarios for the Mooneyed with Marc Versant, the Diplomatic Corps Secretary, when there was a loud knock at the door. Harold turned and saw his secretary poke her head through.

“Executive? Undersecretary Michaelson is back. She says it’s urgent.”

“Already? Can’t it wait?”

“She seems very insistent…”

He heard Katia’s voice just behind the secretary.

“It’s about Gomez!”

“Gomez?” Harold repeated, trying to jog back his memory. “Okay, let’s get her in.”

“Want me to go?” Marc asked.

“Not yet. So… what’s this Gomez thing?” he asked as the Undersecretary came in, looking breathless.

“I arrived at the office, and they dropped that surprise on me. Remember Professor Gomez?”

“Oh, yes. The Talent scholar, right? The one the Montana wanted to recruit,” Harold remembered finally.

“That’s him. Apparently, he came back from a trip a few weeks ago.”

“And that’s an urgent problem?”

“There has been an incident. The academy got robbed, and some research materials were stolen. But, apparently just before, someone broke into Professor Gomez’s home. There were obvious signs of some trouble, and there is no sign of him.”

“What got stolen?” Harold immediately asked.

“Research materials that the professor had brought back. Something related to Talents, but that’s unclear.”

“There’s no sign of the Professor himself?”

“No. The police force searched, and while there’s no blood or anything, they found weird stuff at the home.”

“Weird how?”

“Stiff squares of paper with weird lettering. And… well, one guy at the office, when he touched one, got lights to appear on the paper.”

She pulled out a large square of paper and dropped it on Harold’s desk. The sheet’s drawings were split into three equal parts around a central circle, labeled Level, Strength, and Disarm.

“You’re right, it’s sort-of weird. I wonder where this comes fr…”

He stopped as he held the paper. Blue lights were coursing through the ink lines and started to revolve slowly around the central circle.

“More than weird. It feels like… like I’m supposed to accept or refuse something?” the Executive mused.

Both he and Katia suddenly looked at each other.

“The Mooneyed’s so-called Talent sheets.”

Harold snatched his hand back and the lights vanished abruptly.

“I was thinking there must be some confusion. But it seems they were right,” he said. “That must be one. A… Disarm Talent? How did…”

Katia facepalmed.

“You’re right. I had almost forgotten that expedition with the news about Gomez. And I think the report did mention an academic from Nashville. Yes, that looks correct. Gomez might have gone there with it.”

“That seems to fit what we’re looking at,” Harold said.

“An expedition gone to the East Coast, and back with those… sheets,” he added, pointing to the now-unlit paper on his desk.

“Which the Mooneyed assume we can make at will?” Marc Versant, half-forgotten, added.

“Someone must be able to if the Mooneyed got some, and Gomez brought back some,” Harold said.

“That does not seem to match Robert’s Skeleton thing,” Katia noted.

“Why do I get the impression that everything is starting to fall apart,” Harold replied.

“I think that’s called crisis time,” she said.

“You need to start figuring this out immediately, Katia. What happened, where does all that stuff come from? Sorry, Marc, you’ll have to improvise. Tell them we want to help, but… something.”

“Will do.”

Dispatch from [redacted] to [redacted]

Emergency report.

Sole item, maximum priority item.

A new organization has been formally incorporated in New Sandusky (copy of articles of incorporation forthcoming next report when I can).

The organization (ref. “Talent House”) offers the ability to obtain Talents, similar if not identical to those exhibited by Sorcerers, Saints, or Heroes. They have established various fee structures and a vetting process, including an in-person interview.

This is not a scam, as it would appear. I applied as a city guard and went through the process personally. I signed the contract and obtained a set of no less than five Talents – based on what was determined, that is my current best. I am now a Guardian (manual copy of the “Talent sheet” appended at the end of this report) and can confirm the five listed abilities that were granted to me as part of the recruitment.

NOTE: The interview process includes a lie detector. I managed to avoid exposing myself by providing technically correct answers, and the fact that they were not checking for intelligence officers specifically. DO NOT RISK ANYONE NEEDLESSLY. If you are suspected, you will be found by the lie detector interviewer. It’s a Talent, the kind you can’t fool.

The Talent House chief officer, who helped conduct the interview, told me they’re looking to open up branches soon, and boasted that they have “plans to make a lot more Talented like me as necessary” – direct quote from her. I was also told that although I was not the first, I was among the earliest to benefit, and my team would be exceptional from now on.

I have no doubt she’s speaking accurately. Everything is supernatural to the extreme. Gauge Stamina changes your entire outlook. The other four guards are all empowered to the same degree as me, just with different Talents.

Once again, I can confirm and will be able to demonstrate at any moment, under any circumstances that what I report now is perfectly accurate.

Please advise. I have no framework for how to deal with this.

Unsigned

Katia Underwood looked at the raw report incredulously.

“You wanted to send instructions to New Sandusky, and well, we just had that one coming in last week. It looks like the man might be a mite… perturbed?” her underling said.

“No, he isn’t,” she replied. “And that changes everything. Find me transport, I need to go there myself.

“Actually, no,” she interrupted herself. “I need good agents. As many we can mobilize fast. Because I wouldn’t bet someone did not know about that Talent House before we did.”