《This Side of Singularity》


 The Cripple on the Beach

    That¡¯s just an expression, by the way. I still haven¡¯t figured out whether or not black holes play a part in this story or not. Come to think of it, I don¡¯t even know if a singularity has sides. Yet.


    Anyway, the day I met James seemed pretty standard, so far as I could tell. Sure, it¡¯s not every day that a mana stripped human washes up on the beach of your private island, but it¡¯s not like you expect that sort of thing to change your life.


    To be totally honest, I was pretty much expecting him to spend a few days as a fun curiosity for me before dying of thirst.


    Harsh, I know, but pretty much the only thing I knew about mana stripped people at that point was that dying of thirst was a thing that they did. Besides¡­ I mean, you just had to look at the guy.


    The first I saw of him, he was about a mile off shore, a scrawny dude hanging onto a broken piece of wood and kicking like crazy to get away from some big shark that wasn¡¯t even trying to eat him. It was probably just curious about what a creature like him was doing in the water some hundred miles from the nearest major land mass. Then again, maybe I¡¯m projecting a bit.


    The sun was just beginning to rise, and it was shaping up to be a pretty pleasant day. I watched the human in amusement from the top of my island¡¯s tallest tree as he kicked his way towards my beach. I had precious little better to do those days. I wasn¡¯t exactly hiding, so it¡¯s probably a miracle he didn¡¯t glance my way and decide that drowning was a noble enough way to die. He tells me that a lot of people in your world are even more scared of spiders than the people here are, and your spiders are only, like, two inches tall, tops.


    It took him over two hours to swim one mile. He passed out pretty much the moment his piece of wood touched the sand. The idiot would have been washed away with the tide if I didn¡¯t go to pull him away from the water.


    A few things about him piqued my interest as I got close. Well, one thing in particular. He didn¡¯t have a shirt or shoes. He was just wearing what seemed to me like impractically fragile shorts made of something I¡¯d never come into contact with before. It was all stretchy and elastic, made with those crazy machines you people have.


    Here¡¯s the thing about us big scary spiders. We know our textiles. I have algorithms for summoning certain complex, semi-organic compounds hardwired into my very DNA. From the second curiosity started manifesting in my mind, I was getting a feel for other silks, and even some fabrics, from every kitted out adventurer that passed my way. I even figured out how to make a few of them myself before getting marooned on a tiny deserted island with nothing but some trees and a barely adequate mana well.


    Suffice it to say, James¡¯s pants were the single most interesting thing I¡¯d seen in over twenty years. I literally spent hours mulling over them, trying to get a feel for the underlying structure. My own silks were slightly more complex in some ways, but I¡¯d never seen that sort of uniformity in any organic compound.


    I hate to be anachronistic with the timeline here, but it might be best if I explain the difference in James terms. If producing organic silks is a bit like playing Tetris for me, making synthetic fibers would be like playing a Portal level on repeat. It¡¯d be easy if I knew how to ¡®beat the level,¡¯ as it were, but I didn¡¯t have nearly as much of an instinct for polymer chains as I did for biological patterns. I couldn¡¯t even begin to guess how things like temperature and production speed might impact the stability of the chain, and¡­ and I should probably stop talking about clothes, shouldn¡¯t I? You probably don¡¯t care about James¡¯s pants, and things¡¯ll probably get awkward fast if I get started on his underwear.


    Anyway, I dragged James out of the water and he slept for the next seven hours. Fortunately for him, it started getting hot pretty early that day, leading me to pull him into the shade of the trees. I hadn¡¯t even considered what the sun might do to his pale, fragile skin, so he was lucky to wake up with a pink back that day instead of second degree burns.


    I made sure to get out of sight when he started to stir. In case it wasn¡¯t clear already, I¡¯m something of a ¡®big scary spider,¡¯ and humans tend to have adverse reactions to my existence. I didn¡¯t really want him trying to kick me to death the second he woke up. He¡¯d fail, of course, but it¡¯d be annoying. Besides, I was running low on mana and needed to recharge at my well for a while.


    From on top of a big tree stump spurting out a constant trickle of mana some twenty feet into the woods, I kept up a sense of what was going on in James¡¯s head. I can¡¯t read thoughts, per se. Even the telepathy experts of the world can at best interpret snippets of a stream of consciousness. Observing the mind of any creature is like watching the weather. There¡¯s so many factors that go into it that it¡¯s impossible to observe it all at once, and it¡¯s never truly predictable.


    It¡¯s an instinct for my species to analyze the mental state of creatures who are going somewhere, and to adjust the stimuli they receive in hopes of changing their direction. The humans have some horror stories about us Xikirix Spiders luring adventurers to their deaths with the sound of distant cries for help. It could happen, but it¡¯s the sort of thing that requires extenuating circumstances to occur. We¡¯re more likely to take advantage of smells you find pleasant and other instinctual attractors.


    All of that is to say, I could tell that James was waking up due to how the patterns in his brain were adjusting. I could feel the moment he opened his eyes based on the rush of stimuli. I couldn¡¯t see him through the foliage, but I have pretty good hearing. He groaned as he sat up and rubbed his eyes. His mind rapidly kicked into gear, swirling up into a hurricane as he tried to process the world around him.


    I still get a kick out of the first words that came out of his mouth.


    ¡°Ahhh, what the heck,¡± he said, sounding a bit like this squire I once saw who got his foot stuck in a rotting log.


    I¡¯d been planning on asking him about his pants the second I knew what language he spoke, but that last word threw me for a loop. Fortunately for James, English is mostly the same here, and he¡¯s double fortunate that my former home was enough of a global nexus for me to recognize it, but we have no ¡®heck.¡¯


    One of my rarer skills is that I can get a general sense for the meaning behind the words people use as they speak them. It¡¯s one of those instinctual things. To this day, I couldn¡¯t tell you exactly how I pull it off.


    I mentally prepared my English voice and got ready to mess with his head a little. To James, it would sound like an average sort of guy with a soft, approachable voice was speaking to him from somewhere in the opposite direction of my magic stump. I based this voice off of that adorable log squire. The guy spent three hours screaming for someone to help him get his foot unstuck from that log, all while somehow avoiding the attention of any monsters. I definitely didn¡¯t find the whole situation funny enough to have something to do with that.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I said, ¡°but did you just substitute the word for the place of eternal suffering with a word that, if I¡¯m understanding it right, exists purely for the sake of avoiding naming the place of eternal suffering when you get mad enough to want to? If you use it for the exact same reasons, doesn¡¯t it functionally mean the same thing anyway?¡±


    ¡°The heck if I know,¡± James said absentmindedly. ¡°I have a daughter now. I need to be a good example.¡±


    I wasn¡¯t sure what to make of that. While I was trying to work out what having a child might have to do with making up meaningless words, James seemed to register what had just happened. His mind sparked with a sort of activity I recognized as a sort of fight or flight response.


    ¡°Wai¡­ Who¡¯s there?¡± he asked, and I could hear him slapping against the bushes as he spun around in confusion.


    ¡°The name¡¯s Zeek,¡± I said cheerily, deciding to just ignore the heck thing. ¡°I¡¯m the friendly fellow who pulled you out of the water when you passed out on my beach. Feel free to thank me by telling me what your pants are made of.¡±


    ¡°M-my, pants?¡± he asked. I think he felt self conscious about his outfit after that. Most humans have that weird sort of response when they notice they aren¡¯t fully clothed. ¡°I don¡¯t know, polyester or something?¡± he said after a moment. ¡°Look man, do you have any idea how I got here?¡±


    Thus, James hit me with my second language anomaly of the day. What the heck was polyester? The word when he used it seemed to evoke some kind of stiff, blue material that so far as I could tell, had nothing to do with fabric, and also did nothing to explain what sort of creature made this ''polyester.''


    ¡°What the heck is a polyester?¡± I asked. ¡°What did it come from?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know where it comes from!¡± James said, and I didn¡¯t need to be able to see inside his head to be able to tell he was distraught. ¡°I bought them at Kohl¡¯s!¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯d very much like to get back there and buy a new pair after what these have been through, but I have no idea where I am, so can you please tell me how I got here?


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    I sighed to myself. It seemed like the pants would have to wait until he calmed down a bit. ¡°Kohl¡¯s¡± had been easier to interpret than polyester, but it made less sense. I mean, surely, if there was a store that big, with that many mystery fabrics, I would know about it. The place had enchanted doors, a weirdly high ceiling, fancy tile floors, and racks upon racks of clothing, all of which seemed to be made of crazy exotic materials. How could a textile enthusiast such as myself not know about such an amazing place? It was an affront to my very identity to even suggest it!


    ¡°The most I know about where you came from is that you swam here this morning,¡± I said. ¡°Do you not remember where you were before that?¡±


    ¡°Of course I remember!¡± James said irritably. ¡°I was in my apartment on my way to put my little girl back to sleep, and then I was hitting my head on a freaking wooden beam in some 1800¡¯s pirate ship with no sails. Then the pirates yelled at me in some kind of Spanish, stole my bathrobe, and threw me overboard¡­¡±


    James took a breath.


    ¡°...And then I got attacked by a freaking kraken, then the pirates killed the freaking kraken, and I spent the next nine hours swimming here with a bit of flotsam from the battle while being circled by freaking megalodons. I just want to know how I got from my living room to a magic pirate ship. Please tell me you know what¡¯s going on and I haven¡¯t completely lost my mind?¡±


    I did not tell him that I knew what was going on, and I was pretty sure he¡¯d lost his mind.


    ¡°Uh¡­ yeah,¡± I started, ¡°I¡¯ve been stuck on this island for twenty three years, dude. I¡¯m not a big expert on teleportation spells. Sorry.¡±


    James gave a deep sigh, and I felt his mental state get a little less hectic.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he said wearily. ¡°You said it was¡­ what, Zeek?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± I said. ¡°I came up with it myself.¡±


    ¡°Well Zeek, I¡¯m James,¡± said James. ¡°Am I to understand that you have no way off this island?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± I said, trying not to show how bitter I felt about that particular piece of information.


    ¡°Am I to understand then,¡± continued James, ¡°that I also have no way off this island?¡±


    I thought about it for a second. ¡°I guess you could build a boat,¡± I said. ¡°Hopefully not too fast though. I really want to study your pants more. Actually, maybe I can just make you a new pair of pants and trade for the ones you have.¡±


    ¡°What is it with you and my pants?¡± James asked, seeming defensive for some reason. ¡°Where are you anyway? Why can¡¯t I see you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m in the woods about twenty feet from you and you still havent told me where polyester comes from,¡± I said.


    James turned and started shambling off in the opposite direction from me. ¡°I don¡¯t know where polyester comes from,¡± he grumbled, though slightly less irritable than before. ¡°I think it¡¯s some kind of plastic they make with some kind of oil in big, complicated factories.¡±


    I tried to process all of that. Oil seemed like the simplest thing to understand. Some kind of flammable black stuff. ¡®Plastic¡¯ seemed to involve a bunch of strange, colorful cubes that fit together to make little models of things. Factory¡­ That word was kinda familiar, but what James meant by it wasn¡¯t at all what normal people meant by it. He seemed to imagine some massive metal structure that seemed to be perpetually on fire for some reason.


    ¡°Have you tried making a boat?¡± James asked as he continued to make his way towards the far edge of the island, stumbling and limping over roots in his bare feet.


    ¡°Of course not,¡± I said. ¡°Everything in that ocean is bigger than me. I¡¯d get eaten alive in seconds.¡±


    ¡°Why¡¯d you tell me to make a boat then?¡± James asked. ¡°It¡¯s not like I can fight a mega shark any better than you can.¡±


    I have to say, I was a little confused by his logic here. I took a moment to consider the way he¡¯d so frantically tried to swim away from that shark earlier. Surely it couldn¡¯t be¡­


    ¡°James, you do know you have no mana, right?¡± I said.


    ¡°If you mean by that what I think you do, then yes,¡± James said. ¡°I think I¡¯d know if I was a wizard. What does that have to do with anything?¡±


    ¡°So¡­ monsters have nothing to gain from killing you?¡± I said. ¡°What, did you think you were still alive just because I really need someone to talk to?¡±


    James froze. Some level of understanding seemed to dawn on him, and his mind started going back into overdrive.


    ¡°To be fair,¡± I said, hoping to calm him down, ¡°I probably wouldn¡¯t have eaten you even if you weren¡¯t a cripple. It is really boring on this island.¡±


    James didn¡¯t move. ¡°Uh, Zeek,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯ve walked more than twenty feet into the forest.¡±


    ¡°Yep,¡± I said. ¡°You went the wrong way. It was very amusing.¡±


    Silence for a moment.


    ¡°Uh, Zeek,¡± James said again. ¡°The volume of your voice hasn¡¯t changed at all. If I didn¡¯t know better, I¡¯d say you¡¯ve been slinking through the woods just in front of me, trying to lead me into some kind of trap.¡±


    ¡°That would be characteristic of my species,¡± I said. ¡°But again, there¡¯s no point with you. I¡¯ve got nothing to gain from it. And I already told you, you went the wrong way. My ¡®voice¡¯ is just a projection I¡¯m telepathically transmitting into your mind.¡±


    ¡°But I can hear it, Zeek,¡± James said. ¡°Right in front of me.¡±


    ¡°Yeah¡­ and?¡± I asked. I was really starting to think maybe James was just an idiot. ¡°I¡¯m a Xikirix,¡± I said. ¡°Luring people into traps with the sound of audible voices is kind of my thing. Well, at least it¡¯s what you humans tend to pretend is my thing. In any case, that strategy wouldn¡¯t be very effective if the voices didn¡¯t feel audible, now would it?¡±


    James picked up a stick.


    ¡°Please put that down, James,¡± I said. ¡°I really don¡¯t want to kill you, but I¡¯m not that much stronger than a cripple, and defense isn¡¯t my strong suit. If you actually try to kill me, I will probably have to kill you. I don¡¯t actually need you alive in order to study your pants, but I¡¯d still prefer to have you around.¡±


    James seemed to hesitate. Then, ¡°Why?¡± he asked.


    I hadn¡¯t really thought much about it. I didn¡¯t much like the answer. I didn¡¯t really want to admit it, and I could have easily lied, but I¡¯d never really talked to anyone before, and it kind of just came out.


    ¡°I¡¯m smarter than I¡¯m supposed to be,¡± I said. ¡°All of my siblings got themselves killed trying to fight novice adventurers, not seeming to realize that they were being used as training. The masters would have stepped in if one of them ever came close to winning. They never stood a chance. Even the Xikirix that knew to fear humans didn¡¯t live long where I¡¯m from. The masters always hunted down the ones who got too big. I stopped growing and started getting smarter instead. I don¡¯t really know why. I managed to escape eventually, but then I got stuck on this island...¡±


    I paused. It was suddenly hard to speak. I didn¡¯t know how to describe what was happening at the time. It¡¯s funny how we only notice the moments that change our lives in retrospect. You see, there was something funny happening in James¡¯s head. It was a familiar pattern, like a special kind of cloud you recognize as the one that makes the sunsets the most beautiful.


    It was the pattern that happened in humans when their fellows got hurt. The way they would feel each other''s pain. It occured to me that there were no other humans on this island, and what that meant was¡­ frightening. In all honesty, I felt a wave of bitterness wash through me. I¡¯d never fit in among my own kind, but it¡¯s not like humans had been any better. They¡¯d have killed me given the chance. Truthfully, I hated the whole species. I hadn¡¯t really realized that, but I hated them all. Even James.


    I¡¯d joked with myself about making an exception for him. I don¡¯t think I planned to kill him for the fun of it at any point, but I don¡¯t think I would have hesitated if I felt I had a half decent reason. Being mana stripped meant he wasn¡¯t a threat. It didn¡¯t mean he was a friend. I blamed him for his nature, and I didn¡¯t see a problem with that.


    But then, he¡¯d gone and actually made an exception for me. Or at least, I thought he had. It¡¯s hard to describe what was going through my head.


    ¡°Go back the way you came,¡± I found myself saying. Then, I adjusted my voice a bit. ¡°I¡¯m sitting on a tree stump in a little clearing!¡±


    To James¡¯s mind, the words would sound like they were being shouted from exactly where I was, as if I had actually spoken them.


    ¡°I swear it¡¯s not a trap!¡± I shouted, not entirely sure if I was telling the truth.


    James hesitated, but he still listened, dropping his stick as he tripped his way in my direction. I tried to sort through my emotions as he came. I didn¡¯t make a habit of looking into my own mind. Had that cloud, that constellation in James¡¯s head been the same as my own? At a technical level, probably not. Our minds weren¡¯t the same shape. Did that matter? Was that how I felt?


    Was I¡­ lonely?


    My island¡¯s jungle is pretty dense, but not so dense that James and I couldn¡¯t see each other a few feet before he broke through the bushes into the small clearing around my mana stump.


    I expected him to hesitate when he saw me, and I expected to blame him for that. He did hesitate, but then he didn¡¯t turn away. He lurched into my clearing and leaned against a tree, looking at me with a mix of emotions I couldn¡¯t interpret.


    ¡°You¡¯re a tarantula,¡± he said softly.


    The meaning of the word came to me. It was like an infant Xikirix. To James, it was something that had once crawled over a child¡¯s hand. It was an unusually vivid image. There were goosebumps rising up the child¡¯s arm, and yet, he was laughing as the creature''s tiny legs tickled his hand.


    ¡°I¡¯m a Xikirix,¡± I said as I took a moment to size him up. He was shaking, ever so slightly, but I didn¡¯t think that was all because of me. He was overwhelmed. A pale, weak creature in a strange place. He was practically naked. His dirty blonde hair was a disheveled mess and his pruny skin was far from recovered from its time in the ocean, let alone his brief exposure to the sun. He¡¯d been trying to calm himself down, but his mind was still a swirling storm that grew more difficult to interpret by the second. I was struck by something I couldn¡¯t understand at the time. I was accustomed to reading minds as opposed to faces, but there was something to his eyes that made me wonder if that was an oversight.


    ¡°Zih¡­cur¡­ix?¡± James said slowly. ¡°Zeek the Xikirix, then?¡±


    Everyone had their own meaning in mind for the words that they used. Xikirix usually meant an unintelligent monster with malicious powers. It was something that schemed, taking advantage of the weak and foolish.


    When James said Xikirix though, he meant a fuzzy brown spider about the size of his torso, sitting on a tree stump and somehow managing to look ponderous despite its inhuman form. He just meant me.


    ¡°Just Zeek is fine,¡± I said.


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s a pleasure to meet you Zeek,¡± James said. He had a few things wrong. His Zeek was a little larger than life. It was a frightening and mysterious creature he didn¡¯t understand. Yet somehow, to James that could be a good thing. He hoped I was good. At that moment, I suppose I decided that I wanted to be. For him, at least.


    ¡°It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you too, James,¡± I said. ¡°Now about those pants¡­¡±

 Exploding Coconuts

    James frowned. ¡°Any chance we could get a few basics out of the way first?¡± he asked, much to my chagrin. ¡°I saw what looked like some coconuts around, but I don¡¯t know what else on this island might be edible. I haven¡¯t seen any water, and I¡¯m feeling pretty dehydrated.¡±


    I thought for a minute. As much as I wanted to get some answers from him, he did look pretty miserable. ¡°You¡¯ll know what¡¯s edible better than me,¡± I said. ¡°As for water¡­ yeah, there¡¯s no fresh water here.¡±


    James raised an eyebrow and went to say something, but then he hesitated. ¡°Am I to understand that you don¡¯t need water to survive?¡± he asked. ¡°Cuz if you''re messing with me, that¡¯s really not the sort of joke I can handle right now.¡±


    I stared at him like he was stupid, doing my best to make sure the mannerism would be recognizable to a human. James didn¡¯t seem to get it.


    ¡°Do you¡­ not know what a monster is?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Five minutes ago, I would have said of course I do,¡± he said, ¡°but I¡¯m reading from your tone that the definition of a monster somehow has something to do with you not joking about how screwed I am.¡±


    I was beginning to rethink my assessment of James. As funny as it had been to think he was dumb, I didn¡¯t actually think being that dumb was actually possible. I didn¡¯t know that much about human culture, but I was pretty sure monsters were everywhere, and I was pretty sure reaching adulthood without knowing what they were was unlikely, even for a cripple. When there were magical creatures running around that survived by feeding off of other magical creatures, that came up in conversation from time to time.


    I thought about his pants. Well, I thought harder about his pants.


    ¡°Where exactly did you say you were from again?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Uh¡­ Colorado,¡± he said. ¡°You know what, I think coconuts have some water in them. It also feels humid here. I can make some kind of rain catcher and¡­¡±


    Yeah, I kind of stopped listening to what he was saying after Colorado. Colorado was¡­ big. It came with countless flashes of memory, each one stranger than the last.


    Smiling faces overlooking stunning vistas? Pretty standard for home countries. A strangely pervasive smell of skunk spray and body odor? Hardly out of the question. Even the vehicles, though a bit weird looking and unusually numerous, weren¡¯t totally beyond the realm of possibility.


    The city though? It was straight up alien. The buildings were too tall. The people were too numerous. There were airplanes flying around in the distant sky. I¡¯d never seen or felt anything like it.


    ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you¡¯d mind getting me a coconut?¡± James asked as my mind wandered. ¡°I hate to ask for help, but I think I must have gotten a shot of adrenaline when I woke up, and it¡¯s wearing off fast¡­¡±


    It took James trailing off, sagging to the ground, and throwing up in his own lap to bring my attention back to him. I stared in horror at the disgusting mess that rapidly stained my precious project as he proceeded to convulse with drooling dry heaves a couple of times.


    ¡°Damn it, James!¡± I said, genuinely upset. ¡°If you were gonna die of thirst, couldn¡¯t you have done it without ruining the only nice thing I was gonna have for the rest of my life?¡±


    James muttered something incomprehensible, clutching his stomach and shaking. I clicked my mandibles in exasperation. I really didn¡¯t want him to die so soon. What had he said he needed? A coconut? I¡¯d kinda forgotten that those had water in them. I¡¯m not much of a coconut guy.


    I left James sagging on the ground to go climb a tree. It didn¡¯t take long to find one with a few immature coconuts poking above the canopy. I tried to remember just how many coconut trees were on my island as I climbed. How long would they last? If I made some kind of rain catching basin, how big would it have to be to make it through the dryer season?


    I paused as I poked my head above the canopy, checking for ships. Nobody on a passing ship was likely to see me from a distance, and no crew would be likely to go out of their way to hunt down a single Xikirix on a deserted island anyway, but I always checked out of habit.


    I plucked a cluster of six coconuts from the inflorescence and tossed them to the ground. None of them broke when they hit. I wondered if James had a plan for actually getting to the water inside. I¡¯m strong enough to break a person¡¯s skin with no problem, but I was pretty sure I¡¯d break a leg trying to stab a hole in one of those things without using mana.


    ¡°Are you gonna, like, hit these with a big stick or something?¡± I asked James as I dragged the cluster into the clearing.


    ¡°Dunno,¡± James mumbled dizzily. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you have a screwdriver or something lying around somewhere.¡±


    ¡°Screwdriver¡­¡± I muttered to myself as the meaning entered my mind. ¡°That makes more sense than the rest of the weird stuff you¡¯ve said, but it seems like those are generally for sticking things together when you want to be able to take them apart later. Wouldn¡¯t a hammer and nail better fit the situation?¡±


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    ¡°That would work too,¡± James said. ¡°You got a hammer and nail then?¡±


    ¡°No, I was just¡­ you know what, never mind,¡± I said.


    With a groan, James crawled over to one of the coconuts and picked it up. ¡°This is a coconut?¡± he said. ¡°I thought they were supposed to be brown.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s young,¡± I said. ¡°The brown ones have less water.¡±


    ¡°Huh,¡± James said. Then he shrugged, and tried to bite into the coconut. I kinda just watched in consternation as he gnawed at it for the next five minutes, trying in vain to peel enough of the shell away to get to the water inside.


    I looked over at the coconuts that weren¡¯t drenched in vomit tainted saliva. My mana reserves weren¡¯t high at the moment. It drained over time just maintaining my body, and I hadn¡¯t had much time to recharge. That said, exerting forces on things didn¡¯t take much. Heck, it could be tricky not to accidentally blow things to smithereens, but I¡¯d had precious little to do other than practice over the past few years.


    I summoned a bit of force. Normally, I¡¯d just focus on a weak point and blast my way in. That was fast, effective, and took so little mana it was hard to even notice the difference. James had just unwittingly taught me about screwdrivers though, and I guess I was curious.


    Making a ¡®mana screw¡¯ would be inefficient. It would require the constant exertion of force in almost every direction at once. It would be difficult to maintain, and tricky to adjust on the fly to move through different materials. For lack of a better way of putting it, coating the entire screw with enough force to drill through the coconut would create a miniature vortex in the air. It¡¯d be best to essentially create the screw as it drilled into the coconut, and I¡¯d probably never need more than the tip, but I wanted to try manifesting a full screw¡¯s worth of force in the air to start with, just to get the shape right.


    In most cases, the hammer and nail application of force would be better, but it might be nice to have a method that offered more control at my disposal.


    I started trying to shape my force screw. I¡¯d start with a slowly rotating cone in the air. Funnily enough, it takes more time to manifest mana as force than matter. We assume it¡¯s due to a biological factor as opposed to the fundamental nature of magic.


    After a few seconds, I was standing behind a slight disturbance in the air. I tried pulling the cone in around the edges and adding some protrusions, but I got a little confused and the whole structure dissipated.


    ¡°What was that?¡± James asked, reminding me that he was actively dying of thirst, and that I might want to wait until later to practice niche methods of mana control. The hammer and nail would do for now.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± I said. ¡°You gave me an idea, but it¡¯s not really helpful right this second.¡±


    With that, I accidentally blew up a coconut. I had overestimated how tough it would be, and it was always a bit tricky to summon bursts of force like this. Fortunately, it wasn¡¯t too bad. The thing shattered, but the shrapnel only flew a few inches, so none of it hurt me or James. That said, all of the water splashed uselessly to the ground.


    ¡°Hmm¡­¡± I said, feeling a little embarrassed.


    There was utter silence for a moment, save for the rustle of leaves in the breeze.


    James made a bit of a choking sound. ¡°Am I delirious,¡± he asked, ¡°or did one of those coconuts just spontaneously combust?¡±


    ¡°Definitely delirious,¡± I said, leaving him to watch, baffled, as I moved onto the next coconut. I was significantly more careful this time, and ended up chipping my way in via three much weaker bursts. It took a touch more mana to hold the coconut in place than it did to chip through it. Simply exerting the same type of force on the other side of it would have left me with two holes, so I had to work with less force more widely distributed. I believe I¡¯ve already demonstrated why one might not want to physically hold something you¡¯re hitting with mana bursts. When I was done, I picked up the coconut and held it out to James.


    He just stared at it for a minute.


    ¡°It¡¯s not going to explode when I touch it, is it?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Why would it explode?¡± I asked in turn. ¡°Coconuts don¡¯t explode.¡±


    He looked dubiously at the debris of my victim and hesitantly reached out a hand to take the proffered water. I must admit, I was a little tempted to blow it up in his face, just because of how careful he was being.


    He tilted it up and took a cautious sip, scrunching his face slightly at the unfamiliar flavor. Then, he lifted it up and took another small sip.


    ¡°I thought you said you were thirsty,¡± I said, confused by his lack of enthusiasm. ¡°Does it taste weird or something?¡±


    James took another sip. ¡°I don¡¯t know how dehydrated I am,¡± he said. ¡°I feel pretty terrible though, so I¡¯m assuming it¡¯s bad. It can be dangerous to drink too much water too fast when you¡¯re severely dehydrated.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t make any sense.¡± I said. ¡°If you don¡¯t get water, you¡¯ll die, but if you do get water, you¡¯ll also die? No wonder so many mana stripped people die of thirst.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know the details,¡± he said. ¡°I probably just heard it in a movie or something, but I can guess at how it works. Getting dehydrated is a slow process, and your body adapts to keep you alive. Adaptation doesn¡¯t happen on a dime though, so you have to make sure you readapt slowly to prevent your body from getting overwhelmed. Or I do at least. Do normal people here not need water?¡±


    ¡°Nope,¡± I said. ¡°Mana can keep most anything alive on its own. Drinking might reduce the expenditure for some species though.¡±


    That line of thinking brought a few other loose threads to mind. The ever looming question of James¡¯s pants, and Colorado.


    That said, I couldn¡¯t help but hesitate to ask when I looked back at the guy¡¯s face. He looked like his skin might start falling off at any moment. I felt an unexpected tinge of pity for him, and it occured to me that I¡¯d just spent the last fifteen minutes doing what I could to help him. I¡¯d hardly even thought about it. He needed water, so I brought him water. Just like that.


    I wasn¡¯t really sure whether to be troubled or not. Was I going to spend the next few days being this strange man¡¯s personal servant? I didn¡¯t much like the sound of that.


    ¡°You should probably rest for a bit,¡± I said, crawling back towards my stump. ¡°I get the feeling we have a lot to talk about, but it should probably wait until there¡¯s less risk of you sinking into delirium. With some of the stuff you¡¯ve said, I¡¯m half convinced you¡¯re already there.¡±


    James snorted. ¡°If you¡¯re not really a magic spider who blows up coconuts, I think that¡¯s our sign.¡±

 Everything

    James dozed off after he finished his coconut. Benefitting from my stump¡¯s constant trickle of mana, I started practicing with my mana screw again. It¡¯d probably be more accurate to just call it a drill, but I didn¡¯t know what those were yet.


    I hadn¡¯t been able to properly appreciate the design of a screw and screwdriver based purely on James¡¯s understanding of the latter, but I started to get a better sense for the logic of its design as I practiced. The rotating force at the tip of the screw helped to wear away at whatever you were trying to drill into, and the spiraling extrusions served to force the screw deeper into the object so long as it continued to spin. You probably already know that and don¡¯t care, but I friggin love this stuff.


    I¡¯d just about managed to successfully drill a hole through a piece of bark when I noticed that James had opened his eyes and was staring at me with a strange look on his face. Mana dissipated as my concentration broke, and he watched as the little vortex I¡¯d been creating dispersed into nothing.


    ¡°You know, a lot of the past day or so has felt like a dream,¡± he said, his voice soft and distant. ¡°Parts of it feel real, and then it all seems to fade away for a bit.¡±


    He stared blankly at where I¡¯d been drilling for another moment, seeming a little disturbed for some reason.


    ¡°It feels real right now though,¡± he said.


    Noticing that he wasn¡¯t standing up, I scuttled off of my tree stump, punched a hole in another coconut, and offered it to him. He still seemed pretty exhausted, but it seemed as though we might be about ready to have a substantive conversation.


    ¡°We have stories where I¡¯m from,¡± James started between sips of water. ¡°Fantasies. Depressed people wind up in alternate universes and go on grand adventures. It¡¯s a pretty popular genre considering the ongoing meaning crisis.¡±


    There was another word in there that didn¡¯t mean what it was supposed to. Another big one.


    ¡°I was happy though,¡± he said, solemnly. ¡°It¡¯s not supposed to happen to happy people.¡±


    I was surprised to see a tear form in the corner of his eye. It seemed strange to me, to think that his body would let that water go to waste given the state he was in. To think that a tear was that important to a person. I tried to ignore it for the moment, focusing on a bigger question.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure I understand that word you used,¡± I said. ¡°Universe. To me, it just means everything.¡±


    He chuckled. ¡°I was pretty sure it meant everything too,¡± he said. ¡°All of the planets going around all the stars in all of the galaxies. Now¡­¡±


    He took a shaky breath. ¡°Now it¡¯s just distance,¡± he choked, struggling to maintain his composure.


    It¡¯s funny. In all of two sentences I¡¯d learned that this shirtless, mana stripped, half dead man in front of me knew what the world looked like. Well, his world anyway. He had in his head a map of the stars drawn from beyond the edge of the galaxy, as if painted by the hand of God. It suddenly seemed that this sickly cripple was a well of knowledge so deep that I might never reach the bottom of it, and I think my spirit might have left my body a little at the revelation.


    In retrospect though, what I remember most clearly isn¡¯t what he meant by planets, stars, and galaxies. In the moment, they were all that mattered to me. I felt as if I¡¯d stumbled onto the beginning of an endless journey wrought with wonders I never could have dared to dream.


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    To James though, even the universe seemed like a relatively small thing. All of that stuff was captured in his words, but when he said ¡®everything,¡¯ he didn¡¯t really mean any of it. It was just an afterthought to him.


    When James said everything, it was all captured in the eyes of a child. His daughter. Baby Sophie, nestled in her mother¡¯s loving embrace with something bigger than a universe peeking out from behind the windows of her soul.


    When he said distance, it seemed as an endless void between him and his everything, and yet, it was something he clearly meant to cross. Far be it from me or anyone else to stand in his way.


    I can¡¯t say I understood much of that in the moment though. It was difficult to process it all. I was filled with questions I had no idea how to ask, struggling to grasp emotions I¡¯d never felt before. My forelegs twitched, an instinctual response urging me to rile up defensively, but there wasn¡¯t actually a threat. It was all just¡­ a lot.


    Slowly, my legs grew tense, curling inward until they were hugging my body as I took it all in. James watched in concern as I came to rest upon the sand, my fuzz sticking up with tension. Even with everything he was going through, he still had enough compassion in him to see the distress in a completely different species.


    ¡°Are you okay,¡± he asked, giving me something to latch onto apart from all of the revelations.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be alright,¡± I said, slowly starting to relax. ¡°Just a bit of backlash from my magic.¡±


    James, being the loveable idiot that he was, looked down at his coconut in shame.


    ¡°It¡¯s not that!¡± I said quickly. ¡°That was nothing, it¡¯s just¡­¡±


    I took a moment to consider how to explain myself. Would James freak out if he knew how well I understood every word that came out of his mouth? Would it scare him? Honestly, it¡¯d probably be a pretty small thing to him compared to everything else that was going on, but those little problems were easier to consider than the universe in that moment.


    ¡°I understand things,¡± I started to explain. ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s normal for my species, but it¡¯s how I know how to talk the way I do. I get bits of the meanings behind words when people say them and I¡­¡±


    I hesitated, unsure exactly where to go from there.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know what the world looked like,¡± I said after a moment, thinking of that pretty blue ball that came with James¡¯s understanding of a planet. It felt strange to acknowledge what that was. To see a whole world, and to have it look so small. Even that was a big revelation, but focusing on it helped me to start sorting through everything properly, going through the meanings one by one.


    ¡°It¡¯s a lot to take in,¡± I whispered.


    James still looked apologetic, but he didn¡¯t seem to know what to say. I felt bad for making him feel like he needed to comfort me with everything he was clearly going through. I can¡¯t say I entirely understood everything he¡¯d said, but one thing had seemed pretty clear. As best James could tell, he was a long, long way from home.


    Slowly but surely, the tension started to fade away. The things I¡¯d learned shrank from overwhelming to merely awe inspiring. I pushed myself off of the ground and started crawling back towards my stump. I paused as I re-examined the state James was in.


    ¡°Do you¡­ need anything else right now?¡± I asked, wincing a bit at the cuts and scrapes covering his arms and feet. ¡°I can try to find you some food, then work on making you some clothes.¡±


    James gave me a sad smile. ¡°I¡¯d really appreciate that Zeek,¡± he said. ¡°I like to think I¡¯ll find some way to return the favor when everything stops hurting.¡±


    It was a little hard to tell what kind of pain he was talking about. As I set off into the jungle once more, I couldn¡¯t help but wonder if it was strange how easily I accepted that little promise of his. Was it simply because he was weak? Was it because he seemed to be from a different, perhaps kinder world? Was it just because he had a fabulous pair of shorts?


    I wasn¡¯t sure why, and it was frightening to an extent, but James just seemed like such an easy man to trust. Maybe it was really because, deep down, I thought I already knew how he would betray me.


    I couldn¡¯t escape that little island. He had to. I tried not to think too hard about what that meant, but I can¡¯t say it didn¡¯t make things simpler.


    I hummed as I searched the island, keeping an eye out for anything that seemed like some kind of fruit. Although, I suppose you might consider it more like a dance. It¡¯s hard to describe the sounds I made, and I doubt you¡¯d understand if I tried. The Xikirix have a number of dances, and I¡¯d practiced them before when I got bored. This was the first time I tried making up my own.

 Improvised String Theory

    James was standing by the time I got back with a little bundle of assorted fruits. He still seemed pretty shaky, but he¡¯d clearly felt the need to get up and stretch a bit after four hours propped up against a mahogany tree, even if he¡¯d been dozing for most of it.


    ¡°All right,¡± I said as I scuttled into the clearing. ¡°I¡¯ve got a ripe coconut, some green things, some red things, and something I think is called a sugar apple. I¡¯m pretty sure I¡¯ve seen someone eating one before, so it should be edible. Not sure about the red things though.¡±


    James grimaced as he lowered himself back down to the sand. He cautiously unraveled the silk wrapped bundle, seeming a little unnerved by it for some reason.


    ¡°Uh, how did you get the string?¡± he asked nervously.


    I met his eyes, trying to work out whether he was serious. I mean, I knew he was from another world and all, but still. They had spiders there, didn¡¯t they?


    He watched in trepidation as I raised my forelegs and summoned a strand of silk between my claws. I then decided to show off a little, bringing my second pair of legs forward for some flashy weaving.


    It¡¯s hard to describe the process of producing a dragline in the way I understood it at the time. It was very instinctual. I just sort of summoned a pattern of familiar pieces, folded them together a bunch, then embedded them within a more flexible silk structure. That got me the strongest sort of thread I knew how to make at the time. A little less elastic than other silks, but much harder to break. I used the same sort of folded crystalline structures to produce the needles I affixed to my claws for finer weaving.


    The durability of dragline was handy considering the dramatic flourishes I engaged in as I rapidly strung together a rough weave of James¡¯s face, complete with a close approximation of the dumbfounded expression he wore as he watched.


    He stared thoughtfully at my artwork as I finished, his face transitioning between a few different variants of confusion before he finally leaned back a bit and said, ¡°huh.¡±


    ¡°Do spiders in your world not make silk?¡± I asked, wondering why he seemed so surprised.


    ¡°No, they do,¡± he said quickly. ¡°Just¡­ not in the same way.¡±


    If I had eyebrows, I probably would have raised one. ¡°How do your spiders make silk then?¡± I asked. ¡°Do they shoot it like dragon fire or something?¡±


    James bit his lip for a moment.


    ¡°Oh, they shoot it out all right,¡± he said, matter of factly. ¡°Just not from the mouth.¡±


    I would go on to spend the rest of my life trying in vain to erase the image that came with that sentence from my memory. Tragically, I have yet to succeed.


    I looked at the bundle of fruit I¡¯d brought him as the realization dawned on me. ¡°You thought I¡¯d wrapped your food in feces,¡± I said as I lowered my glorious artwork in shame.


    ¡°Technically no,¡± James said. ¡°But also kind of? In any case, I¡¯m thrilled to find that you can summon magic string out of thin air and I find your artistic skill to be very impressive.¡±


    He glanced down at his bare chest and still stained shorts. ¡°In fact, I¡¯m inclined to commission that ability of yours as soon as possible in hopes of saving my skin from cosmic radiation.¡±


    He picked up one of the green things as I tried to process the picture of wavy red lines emanating from a big yellow ball that suddenly popped into my head. He gave the fruit an uncertain sniff, then started peeling away at the skin, revealing a pinkish color underneath.


    ¡°Smells okay,¡± he said. Then with a shrug, he took a small bite. His face scrunched up in a grimace as he chewed, like it was a struggle to keep it in his mouth. Then, he started spitting out seeds in gooey clumps. He smacked his lips dramatically as he swallowed what little fruit was left when all of them were gone.


    ¡°I miss processed food already,¡± he said solemnly, moving to take another bite.


    I tried not to theorize too much about the comically large fruits and vegetables that came to mind as he said that, opting instead to just ask him what he was talking about.


    ¡°Can you explain what you mean by that?¡± I asked. ¡°What sorts of processes make fruit bigger?¡±


    With effort, James swallowed another bit of pink mush.


    ¡°I¡¯m not an expert,¡± he said. ¡°I was a buyer of the results of processing, not a processor myself. I think it¡¯s a mix of selective breeding and growth enhancing chemicals. Nobody back home really liked the idea of those chemicals, but it didn¡¯t stop us from buying the giant oranges.¡±


    He gave me a concerned look as I went quiet again. ¡°How exactly does that translation thing work?¡± he asked. ¡°Like, do you get what the word actually means, or do you just get what I think it means? Because, if it¡¯s the latter, you should know that I don¡¯t really know what chemicals look like.¡±


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    Considering the nonsense that had just popped into my head, I was inclined to assume the latter.


    ¡°Uh, are chemicals a bunch of colored balls connected together with gray sticks?¡± I asked.


    ¡°The latter it is then,¡± James said with a nod. ¡°I can¡¯t say I was entirely aware that I think of chemicals as looking the same as molecules, but it doesn¡¯t really surprise me.¡±


    Molecules did indeed translate as another bunch of balls strung together. I did get a bit more of the overall meaning now that James was consciously thinking about the difference, but I¡¯d pretty much decided to let him explain things from here on out instead of trusting my translations too much.


    ¡°So¡­ what¡¯s the difference?¡± I asked, curious about how the strange pieces in my head might come together.


    James picked up a stick as he finished his seedy fruit. He also picked up the sugar apple while he was at it, taking a bite. He seemed to like it a little better than the pink thing, but there was still an annoying quantity of seeds for him to work around.


    ¡°Basically, everything is made up of these things called atoms,¡± he said between chews, sketching circles in the sand. ¡°Most every atom is made up of positively charged bits of mass called protons, negatively charged electrons, and neutral neutrons. Adding a proton changes the element, as it significantly alters the behavior of the atom. Are you with me so far?¡±


    I stared at the circles in the sand quizzically, as if I had the faintest idea what they actually meant.


    ¡°Let¡¯s pretend that I am,¡± I said, sincerely hoping he¡¯d eventually get to the part where he explained what in the heck he was talking about.


    ¡°I should probably mention that atoms are incredibly small,¡± he said. ¡°You can see some really tiny stuff with the help of mirrors and shaped glass, but it takes a special sort of microscope to examine atoms, and even then, we don¡¯t really know what they look like. That¡¯s why we use the colored balls to represent them.¡±


    ¡°As for molecules,¡± he explained, connecting some of the balls he was drawing. ¡°Those are what happens when atoms form bonds. We know of nearly a hundred naturally occurring elements, but the rest of the different materials you see in the world around you will be these molecular combinations, or combinations of these combinations.¡±


    He considered for a moment.


    ¡°Your silk might actually be a great example. Do you get any sense of what it¡¯s made of as you produce it? I guess it might be made of different stuff than the spider silk I¡¯m familiar with, but I would expect some kind of pattern involving a few different molecular combinations strung together a few bajillion times.¡±


    I took a moment to consider that. If I tried to imagine the puzzle pieces I created as balls and strings¡­ Yeah, that kind of worked, didn¡¯t it? I started summoning silk again. It was at a smaller scale than I was used to thinking of my puzzle pieces, but I could work out the structure of the pieces if I focussed hard enough. I was making those pieces, after all.


    Almost subconsciously, I began weaving again. If I focused on just one of my pieces, and conceptualized it as different sized masses bound together, its shape would be something like¡­


    Leaning back on my third set of legs, I brought the rear set forward and started working in three dimensions. I kind of got lost in the process, hardly even processing the passage of time as I wove. I think it took me about twenty minutes, all said and done. When I felt like I was finished, I found myself staring at what appeared to be an utterly incomprehensible mess.


    I wilted a little in disappointment, looking towards James to get a sense of how embarrassed I should be.


    James seemed to be having a hard time getting his mouth to close. His brain had surged up into a stormy mess, only this time it evoked a sense of¡­ awe?


    ¡°Zeek,¡± he said softly. ¡°You know you¡¯re a gosh-freakin genius, right?¡±


    I looked over my tangled mess again, wondering what exactly he saw in it. I stretched the structure out a bit, and¡­ there it was.


    I wasn¡¯t entirely sure what I was looking at, but it was certainly interesting. It was essentially a bunch of different sized, spherical holes, each connected together with one or two prominent bands of silk. I could kind of make out a central structure roughly shaped like a Y, but each of the points of said Y had other spheres attached to it.


    ¡°Is that a molecule then?¡± I asked James, wondering why he seemed so shocked to see it.


    ¡°It certainly has the right shape for one,¡± James said in an almost reverent tone. ¡°I don¡¯t know exactly what it is. Probably some kind of amino acid if your silk is like what I¡¯d expect. It¡¯s just¡­ if you can really work out the atomic structure of whatever you make, I imagine that might make you the most intelligent person I¡¯ve ever met.¡±


    I took a moment to work through his meanings there. It was hard to be sure, but I was afraid my translation ability might be catching him in a lie.


    ¡°I don¡¯t have frizzy white hair though,¡± I said, matter of factly.


    The look on James¡¯s face switched from inspired to confused in a microsecond. ¡°What?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Before when you said genius, and just now when you said intelligent, I got a very clear image of some dude with frizzy white hair,¡± I explained. ¡°If I didn¡¯t know any better, I¡¯d assume that guy was the smartest person you¡¯ve ever met.¡±


    James laughed out loud the second I finished speaking. Not entirely sure why, I found myself buzzing along after a moment. I suppose it just felt good to receive a compliment, even if it was immediately overshadowed.


    ¡°We probably shouldn¡¯t get started on Einstein just yet,¡± James said as he caught his breath. ¡°Or possibly ever, come to think of it. I¡¯ve got two years of medical school behind me to draw from for chemistry, but I don¡¯t know the first thing about general relativity.¡±


    I opted to ignore that last bit as I let my molecular diagram collapse and crawled back onto my stump. Summoning silk really did take a lot more mana than blowing up coconuts. That said, I was still in a bit of a weaving mood, and James still hadn¡¯t seemed willing to give up his only pants. Perhaps it was time to make him a new pair.


    I started weaving as the sun began to dip towards the horizon. ¡°So,¡± I said after a moment. ¡°What did all of that have to do with chemicals again?¡±