The Touchstone Trilogy (63 page)

After locating the nearest bathroom first, I found Nils, and Endaran from Eleventh, waiting in a largish conference room along with another greysuit, two greensuits, and the bluesuit in charge off in one corner talking to someone I assumed was local to the island.  I gave them all a vague and general smile before helping myself to the little buffet laid out on the table, sitting down next to Endaran.  I was seriously starving.

While I ate, Nils tried to tease me about my interview, which had taken about two minutes to reach worldwide transmission.  The girl, Palan Leoda, had levitated up the shaft of something like a dumb-waiter to win a bet that she could get in to talk to me.  The other children in her class had promptly begun feeding her questions, and now half the planet was dissecting my answers.  Everyone seems to have leapt to the conclusion that Nils is the Third Squad captain and that I'm desperately in love with him.  He
does
have a very sexy voice.

I was still pretty tired, and went back to the medical facility to sleep again until Mori woke me when it was time to go.  Most everyone was awake by then (another kasse along).  All but the injured had been sleeping on the transports.  Ironically they'd brought me into the facility so I could be under closer medical observation, but there's no way Wednesday could have reached me if they'd just left me with everyone else.

A few of the injured would be returning all the way to the main KOTIS facility using transports rather than through the spaces from Gorra.  Eighth Squad came out worst from the clean-up of the swoops.  Bryze had a broken leg and Hasen was speared by a beak almost through her shoulder. 

The trip to Gorra wasn't very relaxing, since it had stopped raining but was still extremely windy, and occasionally the engines of the transport rose to an audible whine, or we would gain or drop altitude alarmingly.  I hate to imagine how bad it must have been to ground us altogether.  Everyone was quiet and grim, probably, like me, reviewing the post-storm images of the little island with the massive half falling off what little remained of the buildings underneath.  It had been treating the buildings like barnacles, breaking them open and picking out the flesh inside, then chipping down further for more.  Add a few explosives on to that and there wasn't much remaining of the processing facility.

Rather than look at it, I said to Mori: "Realised another reason why Setari hunt Ionoth in spaces instead of in real-space.  Much better weather."

"Absolutely," she said.  "We would have trouble surviving the battleground, let alone the battle.  Does Earth ever face storms this bad?"

I had no idea how to measure them comparatively, and shrugged.  "Think it's more frequency that's the issue.  Earth has destructive storms, but we don't have them every week all over the planet."

"An extreme rather than the normal state.  What about Earth compared to Muina?"

"Hard to say – only ever saw a bit of rain there.  No really violent storms.  Think it must be a lot more geologically stable, though, since your language doesn't even have words for things like volcanos or tsunamis."

"Volcanos?" Par repeated curiously.

"When burning liquid rock is pushed up to the surface, out of the planet's core."

Par gave me a very uncertain look, and Mori frowned.  Nils, behind me again, leaned forward to ask: "Are you being serious?"

The short remainder of the flight back to Gorra involved my feeble explanations of tectonic plates, earthquakes, tsunamis, hot springs, bubbling mud pools, pyroclastic clouds, Pompeii, and the prospect of California falling into the ocean.  They weren't quite sure whether to believe me, and now have a distortedly dramatic view of what life on Earth is like.  I've been describing Earth to people for months, but there's still so much I've never even mentioned, or have given only half-assed explanations for.  It's like the story of the group of blind people trying to get an image of an elephant by touch.

I think I also helped distract them from the recent fight which, though it didn't involve any Setari deaths, was not by any means easy and had as its prelude the death of nearly two hundred people.  It's the second massive to emerge on Tare in a short few years, and the number of escort Ionoth was by far the most they've ever seen.  Without me along it would have taken them a lot longer to kill the massive, and with the storm and swoops factored in, any number of little islands might have been crunched before they'd finished it off.  For all the killing they'd done, for all they could now go to Muina, they were no further along to finding a solution to the tearing of the spaces.  And the problem was getting worse.

We walked rather than ran back from Gorra to the main KOTIS facility on Konna, with the usual brisk care Fourth Squad takes to everything.  When we finally arrived, Ruuel gave everyone a nod and said: "Free time until the rotations have been rearranged.  Devlin, report to medical."

I expected that, so didn't pull a face at him, just made sure to detour back to my rooms for a shower and to grab my diary first.  The greysuits love to add to their collection of stray's brain scans.  And I have nothing in my calendar any more, and aren't assigned to anything.

I think I figured out why Ruuel was so annoyed with me, though.  I was assigned to Fourth Squad, at least nominally, yet reported Wednesday Addams to Nils instead of my captain-of-the-moment.  And Fourth Squad's had enough grief lately about their fictional treatment of me.  Any hint that I preferred not to be working with them was pretty much guaranteed to get me a black mark in Ruuel's books.

Can't risk showing any hint of how much I want to be around Ruuel.  Can't let anyone think I don't want to be around Ruuel.  Can't win. 

Friday, May 30

Long Term

I spent a lot of today on the roof.  It was windy and overcast, but nothing dramatic.  After I escaped from medical yesterday, Ketzaren and Alay took me for a 'jog' around the stairs training course (in other words, we started out jogging, and then there was a lot of walking involved while I caught my breath), and later First Squad had me for dinner again.

We had a pretty frank discussion about the increasing number of Ionoth.  Just as Taarel had said, all squads are reporting increased populations in the known spaces, and larger numbers of roamers.  More new gates are tearing, too.  It's not like Tare's going to be overwhelmed next week or anything, but First didn't hide that the long-term situation wasn't looking great.

Zee put it most bluntly.  "Even if we do succeed in gaining access to Kalasa, there's no guarantee that there are explanations there.  No guarantee that there is any kind of solution.  And the timeframe is beginning tighten."

Nor did they pretend that experiments with me trying to get someone into Kalasa weren't likely to happen sooner rather than later, though they haven't been scheduled yet.  I'm glad I've been preparing myself.

Saturday, May 31

Tentacles v Otters

Exceptionally horrible night.  I'd been relieved when I hadn't suffered through any memorable nightmares after the battle with the massive, but I guess I was just saving it up because it completely took me over last night.  Not the battle itself, but I dreamed of waking up hearing a grinding noise above me and then these black tentacles would break through the ceiling and grab me and my skin would be burning, melting with acid and it would lift me up and I'd be screaming and then I'd wake up and be in my bed panting and upset and then there would be this grinding noise above me –

I don't know how many times it repeated.  When I finally did wake up properly, I was so freaked out I was convinced that I was still dreaming, and pretty much crawled out of the room trying to escape the next onslaught.  Then I broke down clutching one of my couches and ended up crying in my shower for half an hour straight.  I'd only been asleep a couple of hours, too, and felt sick and exhausted, but would rather have died than go back to bed.

Everyone I would have wanted to talk to was either asleep or on rotation.  Even Ghost wasn't around, and eventually I contacted Ista Chemie, the greysuit Zee had taken me to for tests last time I'd had really bad nightmares.  She was happy to tape monitors all over me in medical.  Not that I cared about their tests; I just couldn't stand to go back to my room, and was hoping that being monitored would have the same effect as last time and mean I slept normally.

No such luck.  The only difference to my dream was the setting, and I dreamed that I was lying in medical waiting to get to sleep when the massive came, and that it ate the greysuits along with me.  It kept repeating, a half-dozen times I think, and then the next time it reset Ruuel walked into the examining room, gave me a stern look and said: "Stop this."  The scraping, grinding noise started above him, but though he glanced up, he just said: "You're doing it yourself.  Wake up."

I stared at him, and saw that I was holding his hand, gripping it so tightly my knuckles were white.  And opened my eyes to find that I was.

"Well done."

I looked past him at the ceiling, and while there was no grinding I was totally convinced it was only a matter of time, and I think if he'd let my hand go I would have had complete hysterics.  As it was I lay there and shook and didn't take in whatever Ista Chemie was saying to me and eventually she went away and came back with something for me to drink which tasted so awful I snapped out of it a little.

"Really hope that was a stimulant," I said, after I'd stopped choking on it.

"A fortifier," she said, sounding a bit like she needed one herself.  She, and the two other technicians I could see, were all white and upset looking.

I looked up at Ruuel – still entirely unwilling to let go of his hand – and he said: "Watch this," and gave me a log file.

It was from a scanner's view, not from the technicians', and showed me lying on the couch, eyes closed and breathing deeply.  Ista Chemie and another of the technicians were beside me, probably talking over the interface so as not to disturb me.  I started to shift and move, but the two greysuits looked up, confused, at this grinding noise coming from above them.  Then Ista Chemie staggered and fell, clutching her side and the other technician grabbed his face and doubled over.  I writhed about violently, and thick red marks appeared wherever my skin was exposed by the cut-offs and t-shirt I'd worn to testing, and then I went limp, panting, the marks fading.

The greysuits, astonished and panicked, retreated out of the room, and I just lay there – no doubt until the dream started again, but I didn't watch that long.

"Sorry," I said to Ista Chemie.  "More than you bargained for."

She gave me a rather strained smile.  "We think it's a variety of Ena manipulation.  You are trying to make your dream reality."

"'Trying' not the right word," I said.

"This may be related to the ability which took you back to your own world's near-space," Ruuel said.  "Although it appears actually bringing a massive into being is beyond you.  You haven't been dreaming like this since Annan brought you for testing?"

"No."

"Not immediately after the recent battle?" Ista Chemie asked.

"No."  Being careful not to look at Ruuel, and yet not loosening my death-grip on his hand, I added: "Think maybe this started after I went home.  To Earth.  Had a really strong dream while still in medical wing, but remember feeling mainly angry at the time, not scared–"

Ruuel broke in: "What was the dream about?"

"People doing medical things to me that I really didn't want them to do," I said, very neutrally.  "And then dreams after the Pillar – not specifically about the Cruzatch, but really bad dreams of ducking under things, over and over.  Next really strong dreams were after assigned to Muina – they weren't nightmares.  Mainly had dreams about being asleep on the
Litara
, peaceful sorts of dreams, but very real.  Maybe for a week every night."

I could feel my face heating up, and had no doubt Ruuel at least could tell I was leaving something out of 'peaceful sorts of dreams', but nothing could have made me describe them.

"After that, was having awful fever-dreams of being chased waiting to be rescued after Kalasa, and then that time after my file was made so entertaining.  Tonight's been the worst, though.  Couldn't wake up."  I tightened my grip on Ruuel's hand, then finally forced myself to let go.

He was wearing full gloves, but I don't know if they would have completely protected him from the raw, gibbering terror I must have been projecting.  He never made the slightest move to pull away, and I was humiliatingly grateful for that.  Even then I couldn't stop myself from looking up at the ceiling, just in case, then said as calmly as I could manage: "Not very keen on sleeping now."

"You seem at least marginally aware of your surroundings while you dream," Ruuel said.  "Annan noted that you were reassured by her presence?"

I nodded.  "It's like she – and you just then – come into my dream.  Tell me I'm safe."

"While we technicians are not so reassuring," Ista Chemie said, a little greyly.  I think she'll be having a few nightmares on my account.  "Quite aside from the effects you were producing – which were painful but not life-threatening – that is a sleep which has the potential to kill you.  Your energy use was beyond healthy limits."

I glanced at Ruuel, but he was gazing into the middle-distance, discussing me with somebody.  My head was throbbing, so I asked Ista Chemie if I could have something for it, and was glad she didn't tell me I'd have to wait until they'd done more tests.  I was desperately tired, too, and getting stressed out about falling back to sleep, or maybe still being asleep, and the memory of it all filled me up so that I started staring at the ceiling again until Ruuel put his hand on my shoulder and told me: "Stop that."

"Am trying," I said, sounding very doubtful.  "New useful talents to add to getting headaches, and seeing blurry things.  Extra strength dreams."

"Strong talents left untrained and undirected are often self-destructive," he said, unimpressed by my pity party.  "This seems to be a combination of a formidable Ena manipulation ability and the Sight talent we've seen hints of previously.  The obvious course is to train you in the techniques used for other Sight talents, many of whom also have issues with dreams.  Until you've reached some measure of self-control, we'll return you to a higher level of vitals monitoring."  He gave me a steady look in return for my unenthusiastic reaction.  "The monitor will be active only while you're asleep.  If your heart rate spikes, one of your squad members will be given access to your quarters to sit with you, and attempt to wake you if their presence alone is not sufficient."