I was just being frustrated, but Ruuel looked up, eyes widening. "Phrase that as a question," he said – ordered, it was very much an imperative command.
It took me a moment, since I had already been asking a question. But then I twigged, and said: "What would you be to Muina?"
He didn’t answer out loud, but dropped his gaze back to the mosaic, and then closed them, going very still. Everyone else in the room shut up, almost seeming to hold their breath. I’ve no idea what he was thinking, what he told Kalasa he wanted to be, but I guess it approved. Just for a moment there, I swear the mosaic shifted. I couldn’t spot the difference, but I had to wonder if another tiny tile had been added.
After that everyone got really cheerful. Particularly me when a bit of experimentation showed that Kalasa now responded to Ruuel much as it does me: he could activate the platforms and the mosaic. And Maze then Mara then Islen Tezart quickly followed suit. That’s the best news I’ve had for ages. No more playing taxi or being poked at stuff for me. Not everyone passes though – which naturally upsets those who don’t – particularly Islen Duffen, who looked like she’d been slapped. I did notice, from the few who failed before I was taken back to Pandora, that it mainly seems to be people who aren’t comfortable with Muina itself – being under so much sky, and with sticky plants and bugs and animals all uncontrolled and in every direction. KOTIS has been having to return a reasonable percentage of staff back to Tare just because they can’t cope with Muina.
No-one seems to want to talk about what being judged feels like, either. It seems it’s a bit more involved than making some kind of life goals statement. None of the Setari have failed so far, but given the squads involved, I’m not surprised. I was glad all the Kolaren Setari managed. They’ve stopped looking quite so distracted since the news brought word that matters had improved on Kolar, but today was the first time Shaf has smiled at me since his government tried to buy me.
All I’ve got scheduled is a morning medical appointment tomorrow. I’m willing to bet they’re going to send me back to Tare again.
Friday, June 27
Ice
Zan and Lenton were my post-breakfast babysitters. They’d already been to Kalasa earlier that morning and passed, and so were subdued and thoughtful – I couldn’t tell if it was mainly because it was their first time in Kalasa, or if it was the test. The most I could get anyone to describe what it’s like was Zee, who told me it left her feeling very exposed, like something very large had opened her up and taken a look inside.
Given the whole idea of the planet as a living entity, I can see why this disconcerts them all so much. They’re not sure if what’s judging them is the planet, or just some device of the Lantarens. I’d love to know why I didn’t have to be judged, but I’m glad not to have to try. It would be mortifying to fail.
My medical appointment was over by mid-morning, and Zan told me she had permission for us to go outside Pandora, which I thought a nice surprise. I immediately suggested we go to see whether the otters were still there – I’m pretty sure otters don’t move about to avoid Winter.
As we whizzed effortlessly along the lakeshore I was thinking about those first two weeks on Muina, and all that walking. Trying to picture having to do it in my school uniform in snow. Even in the enhanced Setari uniform and my coat and beanie, flying through the chill made me uncomfortably aware of how little chance I would have had. And then I noticed that we’d flown right past the otter stream. I looked over at Zan in confusion and she smiled (so rare for her to smile) and nodded at the ground.
Six squads of Setari make for a lot of people. Against a huge empty field of snow their black uniforms made them look like a flock of crows, with Squad One’s green and black a distinct sub-group. Zan set us down in the centre, where the captains were all clustered together with their squads just a little back.
I stared from Zan to Maze, who said: "You wanted an epic fight with snow?"
It’s not often that they do something which so totally surprises me. I said "Really?" on a note of disbelief, then blushed, and looked about at them all being amused at me, then back at Maze. And blushed more and said: "Thank you," and tried not to embarrass myself by bursting into tears.
He gave me one of those super-spectacular smiles. "We’ve been trying to work out what sort of rules would apply. Is there a standard for these games?"
I seriously doubted that standing in the middle of the field shrieking with laughter and madly hurling handfuls of snow at each other would work for Setari. "Not really," I said. Thinking of Dad’s paintball games I added: "Could each mark out a base and do rule that if you get hit, you can’t participate until next round, and have to wait in team who hits you base until no-one left. Or do a capture the flag where the team in custody of the flag at the end of limit wins. In that, if you get hit you have to return to base, but then can join back in straight away."
"Either of those would work," Maze said, glancing at Grif. "Perhaps one capture in current squads, and then a second round on an individual points basis?"
"What will we use as a flag?" Grif asked.
"Isn’t that obvious?" Nils, looking highly amused, patted me on the head. "A flag which can fight back."
"I just throw snowballs at random people?" I asked.
"At all of us. If you manage to hit any of the squad trying to capture you before they get into grabbing distance, they’ll all have to go back to their base. And any squad who wants to capture you has to hit you with a ball of snow. Since I’m sure you won’t think this half as entertaining if we scrupulously avoid so much as mussing your hair." He plucked off my beanie and pulled it on, dark curls framing his face. It really suited him – totally smexy. "When you’re captured, you can aim at attacking squads, but not your current captors."
Something which encouraged the Setari to not baby me seemed a good idea, and the captains quickly settled the final details. Combat Sight and Speed were allowed because they’re practically impossible not to use, but no other talents except Levitation or Telekinesis for carrying the flag. The interface could be used for communication which everyone would hear, but not for showing the location of enemies. Rather than a time limit, winning meant getting me back to their base without losing me. Maze quietly told me not to overtax my legs, then brought everyone into one general channel, and airlifted me into the middle of a vast white expanse. And, after double-checking that I was good to go, left me there.
I was at the crest of a small hill, with only a leafless tree and clumps which I realised were nearly buried snow-covered bushes for company. It was, though of course didn’t tell any of the Setari, totally not what I’d meant by an epic snowball fight. I’d been picturing a repeat of a family trip, just with First Squad: a shambolic and silly battle where everyone got covered in snow and there was no real point to it all. But I was really touched that they’d go so far for me, and had managed to coordinate all the squads on Muina – presumably they think it’s safe to leave the construction on Kalasa with just greensuits on guard. And I was really surprised Ruuel was willing to participate, since he stays away from competitive stuff, but I guess he’d consider it good for his squad’s morale. I’d avoided looking particularly at him, but a quick review of my log showed him being the only captain not smiling at my reaction, just his usual detached and alert mode.