Kaoren had Fourth shifted to babysitting duty for the day, and is making me sit somewhere he can see me while he trains his squad mercilessly into the ground – combat training where he actually fights each of them. He’s not beating them up or anything, but he’s forcing them to look deeply at any of their combat weaknesses and really strain to correct them. He’s trying to regain his focus. He had nightmares all last night, and kissed me madly when I woke up this morning and could see properly again. And then went and had a cold shower, heh.
I shouldn’t laugh. Worrying about me could get him killed.
Tuesday, August 5
Sturdily fragile
This will be the final day of Pillar investigation. One of the gates won’t last beyond tomorrow. I spent much of the morning over at the sciences building, answering questions about cheese-making and tidal waves (and sealing wax and string?) and then I had lunch with Isten Notra and Shon (and Sefen and Chise from Third). Isten Notra tried to explain what she thought the Pillars were doing, which took a bit of work since the terms she was using kept going into the does not compute box. But eventually I sort of got where she was coming from. Because they’re called Pillars, and look like towers, I’d been thinking of them as columns propping up the roof of deep-space. But they’re more like segments of a single long needle piercing a series of folds in the Ena. Not an artificial wormhole. The Pillars stop deep-space from moving about completely freely.
So it’s not so much that the Pillars are holding deep-space open, as that they’re holding it in a certain alignment. Deep-space itself sounds terribly complicated: a space shaped like a huge drifting fishing net of teleporting portals. The Pillars make it relatively easy to cross because although there’s still a lot of shift further away, in the more central areas around the Pillars everything wobbles only slightly. It’s funny: I’ve been picturing the crossing of the rift as involving a short, straight flight, but really the crew of the Litara and Diodel have been following this precise and complicated course around all these reefs of gates. And figuring out what’s through the gates involves going through them. Wormhole lucky dip. No wonder they have little real hope of finding Earth, especially since it’s away from this central line and thus everything moves and shifts about, just as the spaces do.
The main thing Isten Notra wanted to talk to me about, though, was precisely what I’d felt when I’d recreated the disaster. She showed me an interesting simulation – a map of Kalasa, and the location of the room which I’d been visualising. Then she included the scan of the testing session, aligning my test chair up exactly on the map. I hadn’t even realised that when the test had gone bad I’d started staring off to my right, back and forth between the people in the room and one of the walls.
"That’s the direction that it was coming from, yes?" Isten Notra said. "The heaviness?"
"Ye-es," I said, rather doubtfully. "I think too big to have a real direction, like asking what direction the sky is. There was–" I paused, struggling to pull together any kind of proper impression, because nothing really quite fit what I was trying to say. "Is like that’s the nearest part. Like a massive was walking over the top of me, and that was the closest leg."
Isten Notra did something to the simulation, drawing a line in the direction I was looking, and then moving back to a city-wide aerial view as it continued to extend. It crossed one side of Kalasa’s circle, and a little down, and landed squarely on the barricaded building with Kalasa’s malachite marble.
"Green balls were what was pulling Pillars out of balance? Is what happened next planned, do you think, Isten Notra? Everyone dying and the Ddura not recognising anyone? Or did it all go wrong for whoever built those things as well?"
"Major questions. Particularly regarding the Ddura. One thing we have not yet been able to test is whether the Ddura properly treat Cruzatch as Ionoth. Although their conspicuous absence from any Ddura-guarded settlements suggests an answer."
The rest of the day I’ve been with Kaoren – we went for a short walk, and then have been curled up in our room being overly mindful of the fact that I’m supposed to avoid strenuous exercise. We talked a lot about the Pillars and what Isten Notra had shown me, and what the Cruzatch might or might not be – and about deep-space physics, which he understands far better than I do. He’s recovered fairly well from my latest near-death experience, but made me promise to be more cautious.
I read a great deal of my diary to him, and we’re almost up to the point where I get rescued. It wasn’t at all fun reading about my adventures in kissing-guys-while-drunk, but Kaoren was more interested in whether I missed being able to drink. He’s never been drunk – and I suspect would find being at all not in control of himself horrifying – but he wanted to know if I resented the restriction. The aether tests put me off even the thought of drinking for a while, but I don’t really like KOTIS being able to say I’m not allowed to drink.
I miss chocolate FAR more.
Most of the teams are being sent back to Tare tomorrow afternoon, after being suitably worked into the ground helping with the settlement again.
Wednesday, August 6
On the Menu
The first of today’s ships – a Kolaren delivery – arrived while a group of us were sitting around the big flat steps outside the common room enjoying a patio breakfast and the increasingly warm temperatures. Lohn, who always keeps up with the news as the ships come in, said: "So that’s why they’re rushing getting these buildings done."
The Kolaren news feed was full of the prospective end of the months-long negotiations over the resettlement agreement, the complete detail of which would be made public at the official signing ceremony to be held in two weeks – at Pandora. Something which seems to involve everyone really important from two planets coming here for a big stickybeak. And lots of press.
Maze did some private communing with those in charge, then said: "The Council of Tare and the Rukmor. The Ormon of Nent, and the three Southern Ancipars. And their entourage and guests, estimated to be some two thousand people in all. A thousand various other dignitaries and a mere five hundred or so press. Arriving over two days, then the formalities and a grand celebration."
"Quite the timetable," Taarel said. "Do we take the role of guard or guest?"
"Tourist attraction," Lohn said, and grinned at me. "Hope you packed a pretty outfit. I’d wager you’re listed as the main course."
"I’m going to be sick that week," I said firmly. They thought I was kidding. Well, Kaoren didn’t, but I think he’s waiting to see whether I get used to the idea.
The Council of Tare is the mayor (and some sub-mayors) of every major island. The Rukmor is kind of like the designated heads of a bunch of scholastic fields (Dean of Sport, Dean of Performance Art, Dean of Physical Sciences, except planet-wide). Together the Council and the Rukmor have a weighted voting system to make planetary decisions. The Ormon of Nent is the king of Kolar’s north pole country, and the Southern Ancipars are the three elected leaders of Kolar’s south pole country, which was only established after the Tarens showed up and raised Kolar’s technological level enough so that they could travel past their burnt-toast equator.