So last night I dreamed I was arguing with Ruuel. He was being very cold and cutting, saying things about how worthless my trust is if it takes such a small thing to shatter it. I was saying that trusting someone was like being a little bit pregnant. You either are or you aren’t. You either trust or you don’t.
It wasn’t as bad as the tentacle nightmare. I kept waking up, instead of being unable to, and was just unhappy rather than nearly having a heart attack, but I could do without having dreams like that. When I woke the last time I had an email from Selkie with the draft report from yesterday’s session linked and instructions to fill in translations of what I’d been saying for my object identification attempts. I’m not entirely sure if this means it was Selkie conducting the testing session, or if he was just reviewing the report, but how much difference would it make if Ruuel was playing tricks on me under orders? It doesn’t make me feel any better about it. I filled in the report results, unsurprised to discover that I’d been wrong for every single one of them. Reading the rest of the report didn’t tell me anything I hadn’t already concluded about my ability to know who is near me, but I did discover that part of the test had involved Glade and Par feinting blows at me to see if I reacted to that. I’m going to end up not wanting to be around all of Fourth Squad at this rate.
I was feeling very down and tired-eyed when I went for my first session of weapons training. The greensuit in charge of my training, Drake, looked like a poster-boy drill sergeant: fortyish, world-weary, no-nonsense. I started out half-expecting him to yell at me, but he was carefully correct and just a trifle indulgent – I bet he’d be the type of guy who calls women "Little Lady" back on Earth. The weapon he was training me with today was some kind of laser pistol, and I was hopeless with it. It’s got to be the easiest gun in the world to use, but while I was okay (not dreadfully accurate, but okay) with shooting big, unmoving targets, as soon as he started me on moving or pop-up targets (all generated by the interface), I rarely hit anything. I’ve never had very good aim with ball sports and the like. Plus – maybe it’s an Australian thing – but it just felt wrong having a gun. I’ve never even touched one before, and I’m too convinced I’ll accidentally shoot someone.
After seeing how useless I am, Drake booked me in for more practice sessions, but since I don’t think he expected me to be any good at it in the first place, he was all very relaxed about it. There’s some other weapon he has to train me in as well called a pulse, which is what we’ll focus on in the next training session. I guess all I can do about this is practice a lot.
I had a relatively light exercise session with Mara after lunch, weights and resistance. The gym’s one of the few places you see Setari out of uniform – well, in a training uniform which is basically shorts and a Singlet. They also use a light-weight outfit when doing combat training which doesn’t involve weapons. There were quite a few people in the gym today, and I found it very distracting that they weren’t dressed in form-fitting black. None of the Setari are body-builder muscular – they work out for strength but not mass and I gather too much muscle impedes agility. Mara could tell I was down, I think, but since I like being with her I cheered up a bit, and then Lohn came and joined us and he can always make me smile so it was an okay afternoon.
I ended up going to the Sights training area early, mainly because I think if I hadn’t I would have given in to the temptation to wear one of my lab rat shirts. I was still annoyed and distrustful, but I didn’t want to make a big fuss over what everyone else probably thought was nothing. Nor did I want to start a fight with Ruuel, or spend my time sulking or having tantrums. At the same time, I didn’t want to be made to feel like that again, and I figured I’d have a better chance of avoiding it if I took a proactive, rational approach. The session was booked for Room 6 this time, a smaller room with a few brown square things scattered randomly about which I decided were some kind of blockish, backless chair. I sat cross-legged on one, listening to music until he showed up, also very early.
As soon as he came in I said: "If have to be blindfolded, can I have one I can take off myself? Really didn’t like that thing yesterday."
"There’s no need," he said. "This session is training, not testing."
I was relieved, but couldn’t quite relax, and tried not to look obviously nervous as he made one of the squares slide across so it was opposite mine. He sat, one foot hooked under the opposite knee, relaxed like someone who’d never even thought about being in a bad mood.
"These are visualisation exercises," he said. "They are designed for attempting to pre-select which dreams you have, rather than changing the course of a dream you wish to escape. There are techniques for that, but these are a first step. You succeeded with the otters?"
I nodded, and he went on to explain the different things you could think when you were trying to get to sleep. It was a bit like counting sheep, really. Think of the details of a safe place. Construct something you liked, piece by piece. Follow a familiar routine. Do something which step-by-step focuses your mind on a particular thing, so that other things, like tentacles, don’t slip in.
As I’d expected, Ruuel was a good teacher, giving examples of each of the techniques in a clear and really quite evocative way. He told me to try a different one each night, and use the most effective ones, even when I hadn’t been stressed or suffering from nightmares. An entirely non-annoying session but, even though he did nothing but talk, I stayed tense and wary the entire time, not able to convince myself that there wouldn’t be some test or trick, and struggling not to dwell too much on how I felt yesterday.
I let out a little relieved breath when he told me that was enough for the day, which I should have known better than to think he wouldn’t notice. Probably he’d had a fair idea all along how I was feeling, but that made his eyebrows draw together slightly.
"Your dreams are too potentially destructive for you to not fully engage with this," he said, going into extra-captainly captain mode. "While I did not agree with the approach to yesterday’s testing, I did carry it out. If that isn’t possible for you to overcome, I can arrange for another person to oversee your training."
I’d hate to get into a real argument with Ruuel – I get the feeling I’d be outmanoeuvred at every turn. As it was, I felt my face burn, but I managed to meet his eyes steadily. "What was making me upset supposed to achieve?"
"Stress is a primary trigger to talent development." He was channelling his inner humourless robot, with no hint of expression. "In your case it mixes very badly with how you came to be here, and why you choose to tolerate being used by us. Do you want me to arrange for a different trainer?"
"Would they be more likely to disobey orders than you?" I asked, and was glad my voice was dry instead of hurt. Then I shook my head and stood up. "No. But thanks for the offer."
I left, needing to think about how I felt, somewhere away from Ruuel and all his Sights. I still haven’t decided, really, other than to know I was happier for the explanation. For Ruuel that probably passes as an apology, too, and I wonder if that was the reason he’d seemed in such a bad mood: knowing that playing games with me would make me angry, and yet told to do it anyway.
I thought Selkie understood me better, too…and I just looked up his schedule, and saw that he’d been away on Muina again, and arrived back a few hours before he emailed me the report to complete.
Ah well – hopefully I won’t have dreams about arguing with Ruuel tonight. If my visualisation works properly, I should dream about being in my room, cleaning it up. I’m kind of looking forward to that.