The Touchstone Trilogy (52 page)

I was vaguely hoping that maybe I could go shopping while we were here – buying things over the interface just doesn't compare – but I don't see how it'll be possible. 

Thursday, April 24

Zzz

Today was a repeat of yesterday, except that the crowds were expecting us back.  We went several hours earlier in an attempt to avoid the worst and tomorrow we're going during a later shift to give the Ena manipulation talents more rest.  They're even considering skipping a day if necessary.  I do wonder why they didn't try and disguise everyone, rather than cause such a circus, but I guess the interface makes that kind of difficult, and certainly the location of the gate and the fact that Tare doesn't have a 'night' when most everyone goes home means that not wearing our uniforms wouldn't have hidden very much at all after the first day.

I spent a large part of today feeling very self-conscious.  Yesterday gave a huge number of people a chance to look at the stray who unlocked Muina.  And air their opinions about her.  They couldn't get too close, and don't seem to have spotted that my eyes are different colours, but there was a lot of talk about me being so 'suyul', and it was amazing how uncomfortable that made me.

A suyul is a droopy, pale pink flower, and by calling me that they were saying I acted shy.  Just as on Earth there's a stereotype of people who are red-headed being temperamental, on Tare people who are white-skinned are stereotyped as shy and bashful and a bit wimpy.  It didn't help that after the first appalled glance yesterday I kept my eyes down and blushed madly.  It was just too many people, too loud, and too overwhelming.

I couldn't make myself not read all these comments about me.  And it left me weirdly conscious not of how I looked, but of how everyone else does.  Practically everyone I know here looks Asian.  Of the people I'm close to, only Lohn and Zan look primarily Caucasian, with maybe a hint of mix around their eyes.  It wasn't something I'd given more than an occasional thought to until all these comments about
my
skin colour.

I've spent way too much of today trying to work out if I'm racist, or just annoyed because I
am
a bit shy and not good at fighting.

Friday, April 25

Something to Say

At the end of today's shift I walked into my hotel room wanting only a shower and then to curl up for a thousand hours, and there was a man waiting for me.

That startled the hell out of me, more because I was tired and wasn't expecting it than anything he did, which was smile and start talking.  I froze for a moment, then stepped backward out of my room, for once remembering to set off my alert.  Only after I did that did his words filter through to me: he was introducing himself and saying he wanted to interview me, to give me an opportunity to speak outside the control of KOTIS.  And seconds later Sefen and Taarel were there, suit weapons out and looking extremely dangerous.  Orla arrived a few moments after that, then one of our greensuit escort, and then a half dozen more people: a hotel security woman and more of our escort and most of the Kalrani.

I ended up feeling sorry for the reporter guy.  The Setari didn't attack him, being more intent on making sure they were between me and him.  Combat Sight obviously didn't classify him as a threat.  He put his hands out palm up to show he wasn't planning anything, but the greensuit wrestled him to the ground anyway, and put a knee in his back.  Then hotel security and one of the pinksuits helpfully piled into the room and I think he was stood on a bit.

Taarel began to usher me away, but I said: "Wait," to her and stood my ground until there was a lull in the noise, then said: "Am not under duress.  But thanks for the offer."  I'm not entirely sure he heard me.

Taarel gathered all of the Kalrani up as she went, some of them looking painfully tired, and stowed us in a big lounge.  She disappeared for a few minutes, leaving Sefen and Orla still alertly on guard in case any more attack reporters showed up, then came back and said we were going to be moved to another floor.  She gave the Kalrani a thorough survey – they were being all wide-eyed and battle-ready, which was more than disconcerting from the younger ones – then corralled me off to a couch to one side and asked me if he'd touched me, if I was hurt.  Since we'd gone 'off-mission' I didn't have a log Taarel could access with her security level.

"He just want to talk, I think," I said, helpfully sending her the segment of my non-mission log which showed me walking in and back out of my room.  "Sorry about alert.  I was surprised and didn't realise he was just reporter."

"The alert was exactly the right reaction," Taarel said, eyes abstract as she reviewed my log.  "Reporter or not: to get into your room he has to have by-passed security in ways that are by no definition legal."

"Moving so that rooms can be scanned?"

"And also because our location isn't supposed to be known.  They will make it appear that we have relocated to another building entirely, but it will only be to a different floor."

The adrenaline surge wore off very rapidly, and I fell asleep on the couch, waking up hours later in a different room.  I don't like being shifted about while I'm asleep.  Or people touching my bag.  I don't know if the reporter pawed through my stuff, but nothing was missing, and my diary and phone seemed fine.  I presume it had all been scanned as well.  Fortunately there were no delays or extra security before eating, because I was absolutely starving.  And the day's drama even prompted a couple of the Kalrani to talk to me, started off by one of the oldest two, a girl my age named Pen Alaz, asking: "Why did you thank him?"

Alaz isn't exactly friendly and cheery, but she doesn't give off a malicious vibe either.  She's a bit like Jenny from my maths class – super-smart, but not quite socialised, with a tendency to ask abrupt questions without any thought to whether they're rude or not, but just because it's occurred to her to want to know.

I swallowed my mouthful (really weird brown sticky bread that tasted like congealed vegemite).  "Because he was offering to help me if I needed it.  Mostly wanted good story, I expect, but I appreciated the gesture."

"A would-be rescuer, in fact," said the other of the oldest Kalrani, a guy called Tahan Morel.  He's tall with sharp brown eyes under straight dark brows, and a very expressive wide mouth.  Not hostile, but with an edge of sarcastic challenge which is pretty refreshing compared to the way most people treat me.  "You didn't have anything you wanted to tell the world?"

I thought about it.  "Only that that official encyclopaedia spells Australia really badly."

He laughed.  "That's not the story that reporter was looking for, I'd bet."

"You really have nothing to complain of?" Alaz asked, sounding disbelieving.

"Sure.  Complain lots about combat training.  Hate that can't go anywhere by myself.  Loathe second level monitoring.  Don't see what good would do telling any of that to reporter."

"I don't recall anyone noting complaints about your combat training," Taarel said, looking amused.

"Mara said pulling faces counted as complaining."

Unfortunately that made Taarel schedule some combat training for us tomorrow morning, though she has to find a suitable room for it.  It was good to have more people willing to talk to me.  I wonder whether it will be Alaz or Morel who ends up in Fourteenth Squad.

The whole thing with the reporter made me realise that hordes of them have probably asked to interview me.  That random people were surely trying to contact me, for whatever reason, and that KOTIS just doesn't pass any of that on to me.  I'm not sure if that bothers me or not.

Saturday, April 26

Positive outcomes

Maze opened a channel to me last night after dinner.  Mainly to chat about the reporter, but also about me generally and what was likely to happen to me over the next few years.  Not that he can be really certain what will happen, but he could confirm that there wasn't a chance in hell that I'd be going anywhere without minders.  I talked a little about the complete lack of control I have over anything I do, and how I understood that the restrictions were for my protection, but it was just occasionally it got to me.

Happily we moved on to the work being done on Muina, and it was nice to realise that Maze was excited by what's been happening there.  A little confused by Arenrhon, but not upset by the implication that the Lantarens were even more arrogant than everyone had realised.  Like the discovery of the Pillar, he saw Arenrhon as a chance to uncover the mechanics of the problem.  It was, he said, better to learn more before turning off any more Pillars, because we really had no idea whether turning off the Pillars would necessarily fix the problem.  But while he agreed with Taarel's assessment of the need for urgency, they now at least had the prospect of achieving more than simply fighting continually increasing numbers of Ionoth.

"And," he added just before saying goodbye, "locating your planet hasn't stopped being a high priority simply because the Nuran told us your talent set is beyond rare.  Since we know there's a natural gate in Pandora's general region, there are standing orders for any Path Sight talents to try to locate it."

Maze was upbeat, but I could tell he was tired.  I'm continuing to try to keep my dramas down to a minimum, because I'm one of the things which worries him a lot.

This morning was combat training in a conference room, squished between a small stage and chairs stacked along one wall.  I'm sure Taarel simply wanted the Kalrani to get a little exercise to balance all the exhausting themselves with Ena manipulation they've been doing, but that didn't mean she went easy on us.

I'm at such a basic level, still trying to consistently block a simple attack.  The twelve year-olds could have taken me down easily, but Taarel partnered me herself.  I can't tell how good she is – everyone seems so deadly to me – but she was a patient teacher, encouraging but relentless in pushing me to be more aggressive.  She told me afterwards that I needed to overcome my reluctance to hit people.  I hadn't thought about it that way before, but I think she's right: I do flinch away from the idea of landing blows.  I like working with Taarel, though she acts as if I'm a couple of years younger than I am.

We've grown used to the fuss at the Junction, which shows no sign of dying down, no matter how we move our arrival and departure times, or how brief our actual appearance is.  The atmosphere inside the tent has changed: we're all chatting a little more.  Muina remains the main topic of conversation, and we talk over the latest news releases.  The exploratory teams are constantly expanding the 'known world' of Muina, sending back some spectacular visuals from their aerial surveys.  It's a beautiful world, and most of it lush and green with fewer of the dry, arid sections so common on Earth.  Not so much huge interrupted ocean, either, but a more even distribution of land and lakes.

One day of this left, and tomorrow looks to be a short day.  There's maybe a tenth to go and we plan to finish it off just after breakfast.

Sunday, April 27

Unara thanks you

It's done.  I think the people most relieved are the police security detail, though I'll bet the Kalrani are also glad to see the end of it.  The area will be closely monitored for years, in case the gate re-opens, but by the time we were back at the hotel in the middle of our post-session medical exams they were already dismantling the big metal lock which has been taking up half the concourse for decades.  The news services had plenty of happy warbling by officials in interviews, and excited comments from Setari-watchers about what everyone had looked like, and the fact that as we trailed off for the last time Kinear – one of a set of twelve year-old twins who would be mischievous if they weren't Kalrani – turned and waved goodbye to the humungous audience.

And just when I thought it was all over, Taarel came to tell me that the Lahanti (mayor of Unara) has invited us to dinner, although it will be more afternoon teatime for us.  We're going off to shop for clothes in a few minutes. 

Monday, April 28

Dinner Conversation

Yesterday was one part fun, two parts uncomfortable.  Pampering and fuss and then the kind of glitzy meal which would make Mum produce dry comments, but with people I didn't know or particularly like.

I'm not altogether sure why we couldn't just wear our uniforms to dinner, but I by no means minded going off to a boutique store opposite our hotel to try on dresses, despite the fusspot aide from the Lahanti's office who was in charge of making us suitable.  Tare might be a meritocracy, but that doesn't mean everyone's all sunshine and equality.  Being rich is still a bigger thing than being smart.

The aide – Nona Maersk – didn't seem to think much of the Setari, but it took Taarel maybe two minutes to get the woman eating out of her hand.  Taarel has a kind of radiant self-confidence and warmth of spirit which is very difficult to resist.  That looks weird written down, but it's the best I can describe Taarel.  She also looked phenomenally awesome in a dark green, velvety-textured dress, with her hair done up in a curling knot.  I had something which shimmered between purple and blue and red depending on the angle, and I liked the way I looked in it, except that it made my repaired eye look even more purple.

Maersk's attitude towards me was disjointed.  She treated me as the guest of honour (Taarel, Sefen, Orla, Morel, Alaz and I were going), but she also treated me like I was five.  Speaking very clearly and slowly, and also sometimes talking to Taarel about me as if I wasn't in the room.  I amused myself by pretending that I could barely understand her, and speaking incredibly fractured Taren – at least until Taarel opened a private channel and told me to stop.

I considered not doing as I was told, just to see how she'd go about getting me to be good, but instead replied over the channel: "Can I ask you possibly impolite question?"