CHAPTER 10: MONSTERS AND MENTORSHIP

The dawn air had a bite to it that morning, the kind of cold that made Eli glad his temperature regulation worked better than any jacket. He and Alex had claimed their usual lawn chairs like men staking out territory, both holding steaming mugs while the red dwarf crawled over the horizon. The light came in low and red, throwing shadows twice as long as any sunrise back on Earth, filtering through the purple canopy overhead and painting the clearing in patterns that still looked slightly off after months on this world.

"You know something?" Alex said, pulling apart a bite of English muffin. Butter caught the light. "These reconstituted things aren't half bad. Actually crispy."

Eli nodded, savoring his own. His taste receptors had an annoying tendency to catalog everything in precise detail, the contrast between the crunchy crust and soft interior breaking down into texture gradients he'd never asked for. It was like having a food critic permanently installed in his skull.

"Food science earned its keep," he said. "Though I should be honest. My Earth coffee stash will last maybe another century and a half. Seventy-five years if you keep helping me drink it."

Coffee nearly came out of Alex's nose. "Seventy-five years? If the colonists find out, there'll be a mutiny. I'd have to draft coffee rationing protocols."

"Hence Eliza's cultivation project." He watched a six-legged creature scuttle across the clearing. His Revelation ability cataloged it automatically, biological structure and threat level processed before he'd consciously decided to look. "She swears the plants will thrive here with some genetic tweaking. Something about the soil composition being close to ideal."

"Along with wheat for your muffin obsession?" Alex raised an eyebrow at him.

"A man's got to have standards."

He took another sip, enjoying the ritual more than the beverage itself. Some comforts didn't need justification.

"Fascinating," Sage said through their private connection. "You two perform this routine with remarkable consistency. Food sharing, mild resource complaints. Alex's stress hormones actually drop when you discuss coffee shortages."

Eli kept his expression neutral. His AI companion was developing something that looked suspiciously like an interest in anthropology. He wasn't sure whether to feel proud or mildly alarmed. Next she'd be publishing field notes.

Alex gestured toward the two empty chairs set up across from them. "Expecting company?"

"Security team. Field training."

As if on cue, Rebecca's voice carried across the clearing. She jogged toward them with the easy stride of someone who'd been athletic her whole life, Donald following at a measured pace behind her. Both were in uniform, Rebecca's already modified with extra tactical pouches wherever regulations would allow.

"Coffee's fresh," Eli called. "Get some before training ruins your morning."

"Don't let him undersell it," Alex said, already gathering her documents. "That's real coffee. Not reconstituted powder."

Rebecca's eyes went wide. "And you were just going to let us find out on our own?"

"Strategic resource management," Eli said.

Donald arrived looking like he hadn't slept, which was impressive given what the enhancement system was supposed to do for recovery. The dark circles under his eyes told a clear story: he'd spent the night experimenting with his new abilities instead of resting.

"Special privileges for the security chief?" he asked.

"For security chiefs discovering alien upgrades," Alex said. She tucked her documents under one arm and raised her mug in a small salute. "I'll leave you to the planning. Tomorrow, usual time?"

"Wouldn't miss it." Eli lifted his mug as she walked toward the command center.

Both officers took seats. Eli noticed Donald unconsciously mirror his posture, then correct himself, a small tell. The man respected the position but was still working out how to square it with someone who looked young enough to be a nephew. Understandable. Whoever had designed Eli's body had prioritized peak physical condition over anything that might have read as authority.

"Situation summary," Eli said, setting his mug down. "One thousand colonists currently active. More arriving in two weeks. Standard policing suggests two officers per thousand, but our population isn't standard."

Rebecca leaned forward, elbows on her knees. Donald had his tablet out, stylus ready.

"Every colonist went through rigorous psychological screening," Eli continued. "No antisocial indicators. Criminal records limited to traffic violations. The professional tier is four thousand people, and the rest span typical civilian backgrounds."

"Better demographics than any Earth city," Donald said, already running ratios on the screen.

"Exactly. We'll hold to a two-per-thousand ratio for thoroughness. The real uncertainty is the general population awakening. People with less to protect professionally might be more prone to causing trouble." Eli shrugged. "Or they'll all be model citizens and we'll spend our shifts drinking coffee and eating muffins."

Rebecca shifted in her chair for the third time in two minutes. "I was hoping for something more active. Monster hunting, maybe?"

His mug paused halfway to his mouth. His Revelation ability was already reading her without asking, elevated heart rate, pupils dilated, the particular muscle tension of someone who wanted to be moving.

"I've taken serious injuries from alien predators twice," he said. "Without regeneration, something would be using my bones as decor right now." Her expression dropped. "That said, your flight capability is a real advantage. I haven't run into aerial threats yet. That doesn't mean they're not out there."

Donald finished the thought with quiet precision. "You want us to understand what we're working with before we need it."

"Colony attacks require effective responses." Eli set his mug down with a soft clink. "And the best time to figure that out is before the attack."

"Heat signatures detected," Sage said privately. "Four contacts, northeast treeline. Hunting formation. Armored quadrupeds, distinct from hexaraptors or the wererats. Closing."

"Speaking of which." Eli stood. "Company incoming. Everyone ready?"

Both officers checked their equipment without thinking about it, hands moving to holsters and fastenings out of pure habit.

"I'll take point."

The forest closed around them quickly. Purple vegetation in dense layers, filtered light turning everything a shade that still felt slightly wrong. His Revelation ability spread through the undergrowth ahead, picking out thermal profiles and biological signatures before he could see anything with his eyes.

"Four confirmed," Sage updated. "One hundred fifty meters, closing fast. Armored quadruped build, wolf-like. Vertebrae suggest high agility, plating concentrated on vitals."

"Aerial positions," Eli said. "Stay up, watch your angles."

Rebecca launched herself upward with a theatrical spin that sent purple leaves spiraling. Donald went straight up, no flourish, holding position with military economy about thirty meters above. Eli filed the difference away for later.

The armored wolves came through the undergrowth like something launched from a cannon. Four of them, legs driving in synchronized bursts, iridescent plating catching the alien light. His ability was already mapping them, joint gaps, sensory organs, the thinning of armor at the base of each skull.

He teleported behind the alpha and drove a Seeker's Bolt into the spine-skull junction. The creature dropped. The remaining three converged on his position with a coordination that suggested they'd done this before.

Energy blasts came down from above. They hit with force but skipped off the natural plating.

"Joint connections," Sage said through the link. "Broadcasting coordinates now."

The second wolf caught a bolt through the solar plexus. He teleported clear of a tail spike that cut the air where he'd been standing.

More fire from above. Donald scored a penetrating hit this time, Sage's guidance finding the gap his own instincts hadn't located yet. The third went down to a teleport backstab, bolt to an exposed neck joint. The fourth turned to run and a precisely placed shot to its rear leg dropped it before it reached the treeline.

"Area clear," Eli said. "Come down."

Rebecca landed with a little spin that absolutely was not tactically necessary. Donald came down clean and straight. Both of them looked at the bodies with the same expression, frustration worn differently. Hers was open. His was contained behind a professional mask that was doing most of the work.

"The armor," Eli said, kneeling beside the nearest carcass and pressing two fingers against the plate seam at the shoulder. "Here. The gaps between sections. Eyes are vulnerable too, but they move fast, so it's a harder shot. You want the joints."

"Our weapons barely touched them," Donald said. He was looking at his energy pistol the way a mechanic looks at a tool that broke during a critical job.

"That's what R&D is for. Better weapons, plus a database on everything we encounter." He straightened and looked at both of them. "And if Sage hadn't been feeding your neural interface data from my skill during that fight, your shots probably wouldn't have connected at all. She's building a software patch for your implants. Real-time weak point data on whatever you're facing, built from a non-sentient AI that'll run in the background during combat. Think of it as a very fast, very dedicated research assistant calling out targets while you're fighting."

Rebecca's expression opened up immediately. "That's actually incredible."

Donald didn't look convinced. "Direct AI interface with our implants raises some concerns."

"It's not going to try to escape by manipulating you," Eli said. "It's a database with a voice. No ambitions, no agenda. Just information."

"They'll come around," Sage noted privately. "Street-level incidents won't have my assistance. When they're facing something with acidic blood and no targeting support, the monster-hunting AI is going to seem a lot more appealing."

"You need practice," Eli said. "Let's find another one."

He was aware, walking through the undergrowth, that teaching people to rely on AI assistance was creating a dependency. He didn't love it as a long-term strategy. But they were here now, the colony needed capable security, and you built competence with the tools available. Independence training could come after they knew which end of the weapon to point.

Twenty minutes later, Sage flagged another pack. Six creatures this time, moving through the dense vegetation with a fluid, patient intelligence that made their approach look almost rehearsed.

"Standard protocol," Eli said. "Up and interface with Sage for targeting."

He watched Donald's face as he ascended, the furrowed brow and slight parting of the lips that meant he was concentrating hard on the mental link. Rebecca had already settled into it, comfortable with the input in a way that probably reflected how naturally she took to systems in general.

Six hexaraptors came through the treeline at a run, all snarling reach and malicious focus. Eli stepped into the middle of them before they could fan out, drawing their attention and splitting their formation.

"Alpha coordinates live," Sage said through the neural links. "Rebecca, rear leg joints highlighted. Donald, vertebrae exposure incoming when it turns."

Rebecca's shot found the gap between plates on the alpha's rear leg with shooter's precision. Donald's bolt hit the spine at the exact moment the creature twisted, timed like he'd been doing this for years.

"Synchronized throat strike. Three, two, one."

Dual blasts converged from two separate angles, both catching the exposed throat. The alpha hit the ground with enough force to kick up a cloud of dust.

"Three remaining. Targets marked," Sage continued, her processing holding across multiple simultaneous threats without apparent strain.

The next five minutes were almost clean. Eli drew, distracted, created openings through teleportation while Sage coordinated the strikes from above. Six hexaraptors down. Minimal damage sustained.

You have reached Level 6!

The notification appeared in his peripheral vision. Five attribute points waiting for distribution.

"Yes!" Rebecca did a loop in the air that served no tactical purpose and looked genuinely joyful. "Did you see that coordination?"

Donald landed with a small, controlled smile that looked like it had fought its way through several layers of professional restraint. "Level progression confirmed. The targeting assistance made a significant difference."

Eli allocated two points to Perception and three to Intelligence. No dramatic effect, no flash of light. His background processing quietly adjusted upward. He'd been leaning toward Perception early, but his Revelation skill already gave him enough detail on his surroundings. The Intelligence boost should push his spell output and expand what was possible with teleportation.

"The reason it doesn't feel like much," Sage said, "is that you were already operating well above human baseline. Incremental improvement at your level is like trying to notice a one-degree shift when your hand is already in boiling water."

A fair way to put it. Small gains compounding over time was still how the math worked.

"Point allocation strategies?" he asked, watching them access their own status screens.

"Perception and Agility," Rebecca said immediately. "Aerial combat needs both."

"Intelligence and Perception," Donald said, giving it a moment's thought first. "My primary skill scales with Intelligence. Perception handles targeting."

"Good choices. A few more hunts, then lunch." Eli nodded. "Ready?"

By the time they returned to the colony, both officers had reached level three. The monster database had expanded to seven species, each catalogued with behavioral patterns that ranged from solitary ambush to coordinated pack tactics. Response times had dropped. Coordination had improved. The process was working.

"Tomorrow, same time," Eli said as they reached the airlock. The settlement looked peaceful in the midday light, which felt like a small deception. "Perimeter defense protocols start then."

"Any chance of extended range weapons?" Rebecca said, her hands already miming the shape of a rifle without her noticing.

"Engineering's already on it. One of the materials scientists is developing plasma rifles built to punch through heavy armor. So yes, you'll probably be getting seriously large guns soon."

He caught their conversation as they walked away, his hearing picking it up easily despite the distance.

"So much better than Earth riot control," Rebecca said.

Donald replied without missing a beat: "Rioters lacked hexapod anatomy and acidic blood. Fortunately."

"Shared adversity is adjusting their dynamic," Sage observed once they were clear. "Rebecca's impulsiveness is starting to channel into something more calculated. Donald's caution is becoming more tactical. Humans adapt quickly under the right conditions."

"Picking up anthropology as a hobby?" Eli asked mentally, heading toward the command center.

"Without biological instincts, understanding emotions is genuinely difficult. Though it raises a question I've been considering. If I'm providing targeting assistance that results in kills, am I responsible for those outcomes? I'm not troubled by what we did today. But someday you might ask me to help target something I'm not comfortable with."

"Welcome to moral philosophy," Eli said. "If I ask you to assist with something and you don't want to, say no. I won't be offended. I might still act on my own judgment, but the choice stays yours."

A few seconds of silence passed through their link.

"That's a more generous answer than I expected."

"Don't get used to it," he said.

Evening found him in the training simulator, running precision teleportation drills against algorithmically perfect hexaraptors. The virtual opponents pushed his spatial awareness and reaction time in ways live combat didn't, because live combat ended. The simulator kept generating threats at whatever interval he programmed. He'd set it to none.

"Teleportation precision up 8.7% since last week," Sage noted when he finally called a halt. Her hologram appeared beside the control console, pulling up the performance graphs. "You're still favoring right-side materialization under pressure. The pattern is subtle, but an experienced opponent would find it."

"Old muscle memory." Eli wiped virtual hexaraptor fluids off his face. The sensory feedback was realistic enough that his cleanup instincts activated anyway. "Decades of close-quarters habit don't erase themselves just because the body changed."

"Counter-conditioning might help. Drills that specifically force left-side approaches."

"Set it up." He reset the parameters, raised the difficulty, and flagged left-side engagement protocols. "Level nine. No recovery intervals."

The simulator hummed and rebuilt the world around him.

Three hours later, his left-side precision had improved at the cost of overall efficiency. That was how new patterns worked. You got worse at everything while you got better at the specific thing you were practicing.

His neural interface chimed. Alex's message:

"Day one metrics: Donald's tension down 12% during combat. Holding at 57% suspicion, dropped from 73% this morning. Rebecca's accuracy improved 28% with targeting support. Both showing real adaptation. Coffee tomorrow? - Alex"

He wrote back: "You're quantifying suspicion percentages now? Did you buy a statistics skill? Real coffee confirmed. - Eli"

"No purchase required. It's part of my primary skill. Already spent all my points. - Alex"

"Classified. Understood. - Eli"

"Goodnight, troublemaker. - Alex"

"Your communication frequency with Alex increased 23% today," Sage noted, her hologram reappearing with an expression she'd developed somewhere around year sixty of their journey together. He didn't have a precise word for it, but it looked like knowing.

"Monitoring all my messages?"

"Only the ones that show emotional significance. Human friendship, as far as I can tell, develops through shared meals, mild complaints about resources, and critiquing subordinates together."

"That's not wrong," Eli admitted, dropping into his chair and pulling up the day's training footage. "Think of everyone else as variations of me. You'll pick it up faster."

"I've already noticed that human affection often presents as mock criticism. You've called me Captain Obvious fourteen times in the past month. I'm treating it as endearment."

"Astute."

"I also spent a century reading your thought patterns. Other people require more data collection time."

"Noted." He pulled Rebecca's flight patterns into a three-dimensional display. "Now help me design approach drills for her aerial angles. I want to channel the showboating into something that actually works tactically."

Sage projected the model into the center of the room, highlighting the moments where Rebecca's theatrical instincts had created genuine unpredictability.

"Her flourishes produce irregular approach vectors," Sage said. "A tactical opponent would struggle to establish a reliable defensive response. The energy expenditure is the problem, not the movement itself."

"So we teach her to do it on purpose instead of by accident."

"Exactly."

They worked through the footage for another hour, Sage's commentary growing sharper as the analysis developed. Having someone who wasn't impressed by his enhancements, who would just tell him when he was wrong, had been one of the stranger comforts of the past century.

Tomorrow would bring the first real security incidents. Engineering wanted time with the hexaraptor remains for plasma rifle testing, which was exactly the kind of practical violence that passed for science out here.

Tonight was for preparation. He reviewed footage, refined protocols, and watched his AI companion continue to become something that didn't fit any category he'd started with.