It was difficult to tell if he was angry. And everything I thought of in reply made me sound like I was being a smartass, so eventually I just said: "Yes."
"What precisely did you see?"
"The walls have glowing patterns in them, like electrical circuitry. The platform has more. They change colours when people go near them. They reacted to the drones as well as to people. They changed to a different colour near me."
Not a vague impression at all. The uncharacteristically long silence before Ruuel responded told me nothing useful, then he said: "My error. An unnecessary lecture at that juncture."
I wonder how often he does something he considers a mistake. I’m willing to bet he hates being wrong, but always acknowledges it meticulously. And to be fair I had to admit that his lecture hadn’t been totally misplaced.
"Spirit of scientific discovery not exactly the initial reason I delayed waking myself up," I said, and dropped out of channel. Not making Ruuel have to deal with my crush is a kind of weird gentleman’s agreement we have. He clearly doesn’t want to respond to it. Whether because he’s in love with Taarel, or just doesn’t think I’m attractive, or whatever, the end result is still him carefully keeping me at a distance. So long as it’s not open it’s something handled relatively easily. But I’m finding it more difficult not to react to him, to want to push him to react to me, which is why he gave me that little reprimand – because I didn’t do what I was ordered just to prolong a dream about him. I’m making his job harder.
Time to go back now. I’m definitely going to be able to sleep – between Ista Temen’s fortifier, and my general tendency to be kitten-weak at irritating moments, I’ve barely been able to keep myself conscious to write this.
Friday, June 20
Hard Rest
The Kalasa sleeping experiment was both positive and negative. After ferrying some people and a pile more equipment to Kalasa I was established on the roof of a building one tier up from the flat central valley of the city. A number of seats and a couple of tables had been set on the main portico above the door, sheltered on three sides by higher sections of roof, but with an excellent view out over most of Kalasa. Ista Temen, very excited at being in Kalasa, and Maze and Zee sat with me, just generally chatting. The idea was to keep me feeling comfortable and unstressed and safe, and for me to pay attention to any oddnesses I observed if I had a dream of Kalasa, but to not feel pressured to have one and most particularly to wake myself up if I had a nightmare or felt threatened in any way.
It wasn’t very difficult to fall asleep, but I immediately started dreaming of Cruzatch climbing over the edge of the roof, and hurriedly had to wake myself up. I didn’t particularly want to go back to sleep after that, and instead sat talking with Maze and Zee about why I sometimes projected what I was seeing into real-space and sometimes only the sounds or sensations – if you could call tearing chunks out of my own legs a sensation – and sometimes I don’t seem to project anything at all. Maze said he did get a very strong sense of threat just before I woke myself up, but that it wasn’t as distinct and directional as it would be if Cruzatch really were about to attack. He didn’t quite say that he was detecting me as a threat, but I’m pretty sure that’s what he meant.
I dozed off again after a while, but again didn’t dream of coloured lights in Kalasa’s near-space. Instead I had a very interesting dream about Lantarens in Kalasa. The shield was down and the sky very blue and bright above a clean and sparkling city, with whole bridges and a very remarkable central waterfall which poured straight down from where the bridges met high above. There was a pool in the centre of the city between the platform buildings which is buried in rubble outside of dreams.
Hordes of people lined a major street all the way from the big entrance door to the central circle. Officials and families and guard-types and a few dressed like Inisar had been. And there were masses of kids, all of them dressed in a pale green-white and carrying huge armfuls of flowers, making a long procession from the entrance down to the central pool where they walked over this thin bridge through the water to give their flowers to the people waiting, who gave them a little crown of flowers in return. Those at the front of the lines looked to be around ten, and those toward the end were at least my age. Almost all of them were the same type as Inisar, Ruuel, Taarel and Selkie – very dark eyes and hair and warm golden skin – which I guess suggests their appearance is a reflection of their descent from the Lantarens.
There was music, too: a solemn, measured drumming and swirling, interweaving notes which mixed with the hushing roar of the fountain – pipes, I guess, both high and deep. I glanced about for the musicians, noticing that the Tarens and Kolarens were in my dream as well, very astonished, which made me realise I must be projecting. The Lantarens didn’t seem able to see them, but a few near the biggest groups of greysuits were peering confusedly about, as if they sensed something.
I would have liked to watch more – there was so much – but in the time it took for two little green-gowned children to get all soaked and give out their flowers, this great black rock came and sat on my chest and pulled me out of Kalasa and into a sleep which didn’t involve dreams or being aware of people around me or anything but nothingness. Kind of refreshing, really. When my mind finally came back, I felt physically blah, but still rested.
The first thing I noticed was that Zan was there. That made me open my eyes, surprised, and then I noticed how heavy my arms and legs felt. I was in my room at Pandora, despite Zan being there. She was watching me – no doubt the interface had told her I’d woken up – and smiled when I turned my head toward her. Zan’s really pretty when she stops looking all serious and guarded. She’s very fine-boned and delicate – not that I’d care to take her on in a fight.
"Welcome back," she said.
"Did I get injured?" I asked, discovering uncomfortable tubes. Then I looked at my interface and said: "When did it get to be the day after tomorrow? What happened?"
"You don’t remember?"
"Dreamed about Lantaren ceremony, but had to go to sleep. More to sleep."
"You exhausted yourself physically." Zan moved aside as Ista Deve (who I like less than Ista Temen because I can almost see her mentally composing research papers about me) started checking me over. I was awfully tired and incredibly hungry, for all that I seem to have been on a feeding drip. "Not a safe use of talent, though usually not fatal if you’re in good general condition."
Which doesn’t exactly describe me – though sleeping for two days has given my legs more of a chance to heal, and they no longer start throbbing if I don’t keep my feet elevated. Twelfth Squad is on medical leave as welclass="underline" all but Zan and Sora Nels were injured when two stilts turned up in the middle of one of the more difficult rotations. Tahl Kiste is the worst, with lots of broken ribs and a crushed elbow. Although it sounded like actually surviving was a very good result, none of the teams like being invalided out, and rather than have her squad fret over it Zan suggested they assist with babysitting me.
After I had something to eat – confusedly trying to question Zan and respond to half of First and Fourth Squad wanting to talk to me – I slept again until about midnight and now I’m still feeling gluggy but not like lead weights are tied to my arms. Mara and Lohn were in the process of taking over from Maze and Zee so I could chat to them all for a while and hear their reaction to my overdone projection.