Sepha Shalen was asked by the human, “so you’re just going to leave the dead spy girl there?”

They had adjourned to the spire. The cake was transcendent. Looking for all the world like mud on dark bread, the theme of looks belying content persisted with Jon. ‘Human’ was not accurate in describing this man; she needed a new term. Mischaracterization of him and his ilk would only lead to more folly. For that, she needed more knowledge; abounding questions bubbled to the surface of her mind.

Sepha replied. “Should the guards enter to remove her, they will disrupt out meet. My men will thoroughly examine her later. I hope the sight of bodies does not irk you.”

It did not appear so, Jon drank and ate unperturbed. “Eh, I’ve eaten in enough morgues.” The comment and shrug implied a breadth of experience most bizarre. The human put his feet up on an adjacent chair.

Sepha turned to his elf companion. “Luren-sun, perhaps you are more apposite a person to ask. Being a denizen of our realm, I assume.”

“Why, yes, Shalen-sun. I would be honoured to assist in any way I can.”

“What should I call his people? Human seems… inaccurate.”

“Ah, yes. I fathom your concern. There is much you do not know, and more still that I do not. To distinguish his people, know they are not from this world. It is a realm similar to ours but ‘outside’ of it. He speaks of our world being a globe, and there are countless others. Above us is his realm,” Luren-sun gestured up, “but not precisely. I am not so sure myself; forgive me. I have been with him but a month or two, and what I have witnessed...” looking to the side she was troubled. “Even beholding wonders daily, many inklings escape me.”

Sepha was swiftly apprehending the fathomlessness of which Luren spoke. It came in casual demonstration rather than discussion proper. For example, an exquisite cake produced instantaneously from nowhere. The mundane look of his sack did not fool her. No cake survived their journey to her chambers; it came from elsewhere.

Be their power superior or not, ‘Up’ or ‘above’ would deprecate themselves in negotiations. It would not do. On the other hand, ‘Out’ was neutral and articulate enough.

“Jon of the Outworlders. How does that sound?”

“Aw sweet! You got a name for us already! Lee, get out your Bingo card. Do you have ‘outworlder’?” Jon listened to no one.

Luren anticipated her confusion. “Forgive me Shalen-sun Jon is quite eccentric. The man Lee, to which he speaks is his guide. They communicate via this magical trinket. She made to remove some rather drab wooden jewellery from her ear, but Jon stopped her.

“It’s cool Kay; I’ll put him on speaker through the orb. Sepha and her team will get their own later. We can’t have them operating in the dark after all.”

“-you fucking dare! Aw shit.” Came a voice from the black orb.

“Lee, please say hello to our newest negotiator, the minxy Sepha Shalen-sena and her cadre cool cats.”

The black sphere cleared its throat. “Hi, name’s Peter Lee. Pleased to make your acquaintance. G’ day from Perth. G’night technically.”

Stolen novel; please report.

“Where is he?” Faelyn looked around suspiciously.

“I am told he speaks from their homeland.” Offered Luren. “The… Outworlders can mould sight and sound like clay. They can send it like a letter too, transportation of sound and sight on the wind over many miles. As with their rifts, it is a trifle.” Sepha paled once more at the implications for spies and informants. Fears of what the Outworlders might do, or want, came to the fore once more.

“Please, Jon, as we have broken bread now,” divine bread, “would you give me some ken as to the designs Outworlders have for us.”

“Oh sure, since I’ve effectively gone native I’ll give ya the low down.” He opined to the ceiling. “Your world is like a delicate little rose in a barren garden of detritus. The absolute last thing they wanna do is cut you down or pick you. You can bet on that. You are magnificent, precious, and frail to them. They will handle you with the softest gloves possible, all to preserve your romantically primitive ways. In short, you’re gonna fucking hate it, and you’ll have to desperately claw your way through to get any new technology or knowledge.”

“That is… somewhat disheartening but not altogether horrid.” Sepha stroked her chin. “I thank you for your candidness. I did not expect you to tip your hand so.”

“Can I get some more of this tea?” He offered his cup. “Man, the caffeine is pretty hefty, and I think my bio feed detects notes of a psychotropic microdose. Earl Grey with a kick!” Faelyn poured for him. “Anyway, what I described is what would have happened. Alphas are a pragmatic bunch, and your world would inevitably integrate with time. I just kicked up the gearing is all. I’m in your corner.”

“You are helping us? Why? Is that not treasonous?” Asked Sepha.

“The handlers will come from my world or a bit further up. I, on the other hand, belong to the Divers Organisation. That goes all the way to the top: the Alphas. To them, this is all just drama. And if there is one motivation of theirs you should never forget, it’s boredom.”

‘Twas a seed of truth she could apprehend. “Hmm.”

Jon continued. “While I’m the only one world-side, I command a degree of executive power, but that will rapidly diminish once the specialists start dropping in. So I’m preparing a beachhead before the waves come crashing. I’m your insider, and you are mine. Play your cards right, and you’ll be famous, one look at that sly smirk of yours, and you’ll make the worlds go gaga. Once declassified, the feeds will doubtlessly go viral. You’ll all get your cut not to worry. I’ll make sure royalties are apportioned accurately and fairly. You’re what, 200 hundred years old? With another 800 years ahead, just do an average job, and the Alphas will immortalize you.”

“Who are these Alphas you keep mentioning? Your lords?”

“Not exactly. Your closest parallel would be gods. And I mean actual living, breathing, they walk among us, type gods. They-”

“Uh, Kel?” The orb spoke again.

Sehpa marvelled at how bizarre a simple morning meet had turned. How has all this begun to feel so typical so quickly? The potency of those ‘pils’ perhaps.

“Yeah Lee, kinda giving Seph the DL right now, what’s up?”

“I have uh… news. Good maybe? I’m happy to report the HAS, and your other outstanding debts have been paid off.”

“Fucking what!?” Jon jumped to his feet. The ring behind them switched to a new room, and Jon swiftly left his chair to walk through it.

“What is the matter?” She had not seen the man so riled even once since their encounter.

“Hmm?” He turned back briefly. “With you, nothing. We’re good. Kay, if you could stay behind and field any more of Seph’s questions that would be great. Show them how to communicate with the headsets, and use the visors to browse the web. Here are spares.” From his bag, he dumped three sets arcane ear and eye jewellery on the table; freely handing out potent tools like quaint trinkets. He anticipated this.

“One of those waves I mentioned is breaking sooner than I expected. Lee can assist and handle the rift. Gotta go.” He paused just before stepping through his magical doorway to an arcane room beyond. “I can leave Kay safely in your care, can I not Ms Shalen?” The question’s tone was innocent, but his utterly impassive expression said otherwise. Those eyes had seen horrors, and stared unflinchingly at them, the eyes of Father.

Sepha blanched. “I pledge her safety upon the gods.” The words tumbled from her mouth before she thought to resist.

An amicable smile bloomed on his face. “Great!”

Which is the man, and which the mask? She could not tell. He wore so many of them, and they all seemed so genuine.

With that, the Outworlder was off, leaving Luren behind, and everyone most assuredly bewildered.