Mr. Simms wasn't joking about the whiskey. He practically chugged his glass as Mason sipped, the eye watering and throat clenching apparently not dissuading him from what was obviously close to addiction.

"Now that's a thing of beauty." Daniel shivered and closed his eyes as he put the glass to his cheek, taking in deep breaths. "I can finally die happy."

"They don't make whiskey in the 'capital of man'? Even us country bumpkins have a brewer."

"Oh they make it." Daniel scowled. "Or at least they make some sour horseshit they call whiskey. But I've not once seen any peat. Somehow the aliens make it exactly right. Funny that, isn't it?"

Yeah, Mason thought, hilarious.

"That's a wonderful accent," Haley said as she arrived and sat beside Mason. "Australian?"

"Close, lovely girl." Daniel winked. "I'm from the smaller, prettier, better island. I'm a kiwi. Means New Zealand."

"Ah." Haley glanced up in thought, then started humming some song that made Daniel’s eyes go wide.

"Ha!" He glanced back and forth between Mason and Haley in delighted surprise. "Oh bless you, sweetheart. I feel I've not heard Slice of Heaven in years. I’d pay anything to hear you sing it, you have a lovely sounding voice."

"You're too kind."

Haley and the old farmer exchanged pleasant smiles. Mason set down his drink.

"I’m not a patient man, Mr. Simms. You want to sell information. Fine. What do you want?"

The 'kiwi's brow raised as he set down his glass.

"Straight to business. I like that."

It was clear he did not, in fact, like it.

"Well." Daniel shrugged. "Rumor has it you boys in the west have, uh, room to grow. I'm not much for cities. How about a plot of land?" Here he laughed like it was a joke, when it was clearly not a joke.

Mason also assumed Daniel was a spy. Or else a kind of mercenary who'd immediately run to the emperor and sell any information Mason gave him. Even if he wasn't he'd likely get taken and squeezed like a lemon until the emperor knew everything anyway. As a player, he had no protection. So it seemed wise to be careful.

"I assume you've seen the map. We have endless land."

Daniel smiled, obviously not taken in.

"But...do you have, uh, protected land? Some kind of...farms? Or, I don't know, houses outside the city under your protection?"

They were definitely already approaching 'strategic' information. Also the idea of promising anyone from the east anything seemed currently ridiculous and impossible anyway. Mason shifted and put his hands on the table.

"Can you cross whatever ocean is between our continents, Daniel?"

The farmer turned player winced.

"Well, no. But, I figured with your fancy, er, Nexus thing. That maybe you could..."

"I'm glad you enjoyed the drink." Mason cut him off. "But I’m afraid I’ve changed my mind. I don’t need information. And I have a lot to talk about with my people. Thanks for coming by."

Haley was up instantly with a friendly smile, gesturing towards the stairs. Mr. Simms frowned and licked his lips.

"Now just hold on a second. I know plenty of useful things. Maybe we should just slow things down a bit. No reason to be unfriendly. I'm sure there's..."

Mason flicked his profile open and revoked the man's 'guest' access to the platform. Some kind of red light beeped, and Mr. Simms' eyes glazed for a moment before they widened. He turned and ran for the stairs without a word, a few of Mason's players chuckling as he fled.

There were others after Mr. Simms. In fact a small queue began to form, all players who wanted to have a word with Mason. All offered information, or valuable future services, or a number of civilian followers. All gently probed for information of various kinds, offering none, even if pressed.

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"Well I think that's about enough of that," Mason said after number five. It was getting fairly clear that the 'emperor' and his people had given some kind of bounty or request for information. And it was also obvious they threatened anyone who told Mason anything. Which meant they were firmly in control of the eastern players, and their subterfuge efforts had already begun. So that was just great.

"The civilians may have better luck," Haley said, her head on Mason's shoulder. "Do you want me to head there and see how it's going?"

"In a minute." He put an arm around her and kissed her cheek, the other around Becky on the other side.

"I'm so stuffed." The cowgirl undid her jeans and leaned back, her heaping plate mostly cleared. "I can't eat another bite."

Mason shook his head and grinned.

"Well I'm glad someone has been having fun. Feel like heading down for a swim?"

Becky groaned just at the thought, taking deep breaths as she closed her eyes. Haley tsked and gave Mason a quick kiss before she stood and went for the stairs.

"Be nice," she mouthed silently. "I'll be back in a bit," she added a little louder. Then she was down the stairs and gone, Becky semi-conscious beside him. He sighed and lay her down, moving a bit on the long seat to be closer to Phuong and Carl and the others.

"OK," he said, looking out over the promenade, hoping other players couldn't somehow spy on them or listen in. Though he supposed the loud music would help. "I want to hear about the duels. Everything you think is important. Give me details."

"I fought some lady," Becky called from her back. "On a skyscraper. Almost knocked me off with her damn...ugh...power. Thing. I reflected it. Boom. Bob's your uncle."

"OK. That was colorful." Mason put a comforting hand on Becky's foot. "Next."

"I was in a big circle full of gravel," Carl said. "Couldn't hide for shit. Crunched everywhere, and the guy saw my footprints. He tossed a few knives. Wore armor and had...gadgets, or something. None of it made any difference. I split and came at him from two directions. Cut him up."

"I faced a caster, Patron," Phuong said. "The terrain was to his advantage. Several platforms he was able to jump between as he attacked me. I was forced to approach him slowly and carefully. But ultimately his attacks were too weak."

Mason frowned because he was beginning to detect a theme. Then John explained he'd fought his enemy in a pool of water, which prevented him from using half his electrical attacks. Seamus said it was similar for him, except more like a mudbowl.

"Son of a bitch didn't burn so easy covered in mud." The Irishman winked. "But he still burned." He pretended to twirl his staff, nearly knocking over his glass.

Mason's arena hadn't been particularly favorable to him, either. But it seemed less of a problem than the others. He wasn't sure what that meant. It was too much of a coincidence to believe all these fights had been 'luck of the draw' in terms of the terrain. The system was somehow balancing the odds, or else punishing Nassau's players.

Maybe the opponents were randomized, but the system tried to compensate for big power differences with the terrain, like a handicap? It might make sense, except Mason's terrain hadn't been that big a deal.

"How many points did you guys get?" he asked as it occurred to him.

"Five for me," said Seamus.

"Four." "Six." "Four." "Five"," came a few instant responses.

"Three," said Carl.

Mason let out a breath and nodded. It was starting to make a bit more sense. His arena probably hadn't been changed much because the game recognized it didn't really matter. His opponent had no chance.

"Uh, how many did you get?" Carl said, obviously noticing Mason's expression.

"One."

The players snorted or scoffed, Carl shaking his head.

"That poor bastard. This alien really is a nasty piece of work. Why not match people in some kind of...I don't know, power categories? It has tiers, for Christ's sake. Just use those."

"Speaking of which," said Garet. "Didn't they promise to tell us some more rules?"

They had. Though Mason supposed it felt no hurry to do anything. No doubt it was watching them all right now, listening, calculating, eating the synthetic god version of popcorn. Mason was quickly losing his appetite.

But he kept at least a neutral expression, doing his best to smile at his players and encourage them to eat and drink favorite foods now that they had the chance.

On the good news side, every single player in Nassau had won their first fight. Tommaso had managed to defeat his enemy more or less the same way he'd almost beaten John, running around and tossing explosives until his armored opponent went down. Garet and Jason had skewered their opponents in short but vicious brawls.

Everyone went quiet when Alex explained his duel. Partly it was the delivery.

"He died, I did not. Why does it matter how?"

"Come on, Alex," Carl nudged him. "We're looking for details, strategies, and we all need to know how our powers work for teams, for the future. Don't be coy."

The Belarusian squirmed in his seat, shrugging as he let out a breath.

"I tell him to surrender. He doesn't. He hits me many times. Armor work, shield work. I heal and use Divine Justice. It is good, hard to target, but not problem with one man. He dies. The end."

Carl whistled. "Our healer is powering up. Maybe you'll be some kind of war cleric before the end."

Alex looked like he'd chewed a moldy lemon, and Mason decided that was probably enough questioning. He waved everyone back to their seats, telling them to relax, to do what they liked.

"Just don't tell anyone anything," he added. "These bastards want information, so don't give them any. Not a thing, alright? If you want to make a friend, talk about your lives before the apocalypse. I'm serious." He stared mostly at Seamus for this last part.

"Eh? Why me? I don't even like people." He put up his hands. "OK, OK. Not a word. Christ Jesus."

"And ehhh." Tommaso cleared his throat. "If we happen to, ehm, make a lady friend?"

Mason rolled his eyes, thinking that was definitely a bad idea.

"Just keep your mouth shut and it's fine."

The Italian grinned, nudging any player in range like they were on the hunt together.

Mason sat beside Becky and hoped Haley got back soon. He looked off the balcony and did his best not to wonder where Blake was, and wish he'd come and sit to talk.