By noon, approximately thirty-two percent of the people at Vale House had received the cognitive interface. By evening, it was sixty-one. Worldwide data was impossible to verify, but reports suggested the same process was occurring everywhere. People called it the System. Elias hated that immediately.
"It's not a system," he told a room containing fourteen researchers, two soldiers, Harcourt and a terrified local GP who had somehow become the estate's medical director.
Priya folded her arms.
"It literally gives people menus."
"Microsoft Word gives people menus. That doesn't mean Microsoft Word is reality."
"What do you want to call it?"
"The Cognitive Translation Layer."
There was a collective groan.
"CTL," Priya offered.
"Acceptable."
Nobody else agreed, which guaranteed it would spread. They had learned several things. Accepting standard assistance generated a simplified profile containing a Path Impression, a Resonance estimate and suggested developmental options. A soldier might receive Vanguard, Marksman or Defender. A surgeon had received Flesh Mender.
A software engineer in Leeds claimed to have been offered Pattern Architect. A seventeen-year-old boy at the estate received Beast Listener and had already convinced one of the less hostile alien rodents in containment to stop biting everyone. None of the labels were absolute. They were recommendations. More importantly, they changed depending on behaviour.
People who fought became better suited to fighting. People who healed developed healing pathways. People who repeatedly manipulated a particular magical effect found it easier to reproduce. The mechanism appeared to be partly biological, partly magical and partly informational. Elias had declined assistance. His interface therefore provided almost nothing. No convenient skill list.
No suggested techniques.
No automatic explanation.
He was delighted.
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
"You're intentionally making it harder," Priya said.
"I'm preventing contamination."
"By useful information."
"By conclusions produced by a mechanism we do not understand."
Harcourt leaned against the table.
"If the thing tells me a barrier will improve if I practise it, why wouldn't I use that?"
"You should."
"But you won't."
"Correct."
"Why?"
"Because someone needs to know whether the barrier improves without it."
Priya pointed at him.
"There. That's your illness."
"Which one?"
"All of them together."
Elias ignored her.
The interface was not merely instructional.
It was political.
That conclusion came from the Accord. Every newly integrated person could access a basic legal summary, trade interface and identity designation once their CTL activated. That meant the Greater Concordance had inserted an informational framework directly into human perception. Governments had not consented. Individuals had not consented.
And yet it was there. That bothered Elias more than monsters. Monsters rarely pretended to be helpful. He opened the public feed. News from across the world had become surreal.
France had established emergency magical registration. The United States had not established one federal policy because several states were already suing one another over jurisdiction. India had created thousands of local arcane response teams. China had restricted external magical contracts pending review. Several smaller states had accepted offers from alien security companies.
A Pacific island government had apparently sold exclusive orbital access rights to a species whose translated name was The Sevenfold Maritime Exchange. Nobody knew whether orbital access could legally be sold. The aliens claimed it could. Then there were the territories where the state had effectively vanished. Local military commanders took control.
Warlords emerged.
Religious leaders acquired real power.
So did criminals.
A cartel group released footage of a man demonstrating bullet-resistant skin while standing beside a pile of bodies. A militia in central Africa controlled a newly emerged crystal field and was charging surrounding communities for access to mana-rich water. In one city in Southeast Asia, an awakened police commander had declared himself provisional governor after the civilian administration fled. Some decisions saved lives. Others merely changed who was allowed to kill whom.
Humanity had not unified in the face of extinction. Elias had never expected it to. People who believed catastrophe automatically created solidarity had never studied catastrophe. It created solidarity locally. And competition everywhere else.
Myrddin interrupted.
"New alien message."
"Merchant?"
"No."
A different figure appeared. Tall. Blue-grey skin. Four black eyes arranged vertically. No visible clothing, though delicate metallic threads crossed its body.
"Doctor Elias Vale."
"Doctor Vale."
"Your insistence on title hierarchy is noted."
"Good."
"I am Scholar-Observer Tesh of the Lattice Collegium. I request an academic exchange permitted under Integration Accord Section Forty-Two."
Elias sat straighter.
Finally.
"What do you want?"
"Your pre-integration archive."
"What do I get?"
"Answers."
Elias smiled.
"Come in."