Landers

This world is inhabited by a lethargic species, whose members’ skin harvests energy directly from light. Neither do they die, nor do they reproduce. They are capable of racing across their planet’s featureless surface at great speed. Yet they never move. Their minds are able to weigh up many million thoughts at once. When meteor showers streak across the cloudless sky, they can tell instantly where each rock will be in ten thousand years. They would beat you at chess, Starcraft or Go, should they wish to do so. And that is the problem. They have no need of wishes.