”I don’t want to fight you!” he shouts in my face. “Stop attacking me!”
As soon as he’s reeled me back in, I shove him away. He doesn’t come at me, but he remains crouched, ready to dodge anything I might throw at him.
”You’re Four,” he says.
”How do you know that?”
”They know what you look like, John Smith. What all of you look like. And so do I—” He hesitates. “Except I also remember seeing you as a child. Running for a ship while my people murdered yours.”
”You’re the one Malcolm and Sam talked about.” My voice come through gritted teeth. I can’t shake the feeling that I should run or fight when faced with his kind. It’s ingrained in me, but I try to keep it in check.
”Adamus Sutekh,” the Mog introduces himself. “I prefer Adam.”
”Your people killed a friend of mine tonight, Adam,” I spit, knowing my anger is unreasonable, not able to help myself. “And they kidnapped another.”
”I’m sorry,” he says. “I came as quickly as I could. Are Malcolm and Sam safe?”
”I—” Well I just don’t know how to react to that. A Mog showing compassion. Even if Sam and Malcolm said it was true, I still never really imagined it. “Yeah, they’re fine.”
”Good,” Adam replies. His voice still has the harshness of a Mogadorian. “We need to get out of here.”
”You’re hurt, angry,” Adam says, moving cautiously closer to me, like I might suddenly take a swing at him. “I get that. But if you want to hurt them back, I can help.”
-Number Four and Adamus Sutekh, “The Fall of Five.”