I’d almost convinced myself that it would hurt. Genetically, I’m the same as these people, and every one of them had flinched a little walking into the mist and then acted like it was slowly crushing them. But it was just the same as Muina’s: chilly but bringing a pleasant warmth, a feeling of wellbeing. The wind from the vortex made it swirl around me ominously, but I felt fine.
Drysen wasn’t a little guy. There was no way I could carry him through the gate, but I could drag him closer and lift him partway so that Zan and the one called Nels could haul him the rest of the way through. I paused before following, taking a good look about, but could see no sign of more Ionoth for the moment. I was wondering if not trying to go through before was a big screw-up on my part, but it’s not as if I would have been able to fight off the Ionoth. Besides, I would have had to waste time arguing with everyone, and the picture I was presenting was definitely worth a thousand words.
"Try close door, best thing?" I asked, after stepping back through.
"That doesn’t effect you?" Haral sounded totally nonplussed.
"Is – moonlight feel is alcohol. Light-headed, bit dizzy." I shrugged. "Not hurt, such. Is close door help?"
Zan and Haral exchanged a long glance, then Zan said: "I don’t see any other positive options," and Haral pulled a face and nodded.
"Run," Zan said to me.
That I didn’t need encouragement to do. If any more Ionoth came along, I’d be the one with my face scraped off. And I hadn’t properly worked out just how much time was left before people would start dying from exposure to the aether.
I don’t recommend taking on Serious Business while tanked. It’s not so much that I was incapable of running (well, jogging) a hundred metres, even though I became ever more pixillated with each step. I saw Mara as I ran past and became madly convinced I was going to let her down, and I really didn’t want to. It was a damn good thing that I wasn’t out to do anything more complicated than close some doors. And I remember this whole obsession growing up about the size of the doors and that I wouldn’t be able to move them when I got there, but then I was there. I actually collided with the right door, which was one way to learn that they moved really easily. I pushed it shut, suddenly feeling good again, and started for the other half, and that’s when my head shut down altogether.
As I was waking up, I was thinking that since I was waking up I must have shut the other half of the door. Then I was noticing a fuzzy fence which seemed to be holding the fact that I felt very very bad at a bearable distance. And a weirdness about my face, which made me lift a hand, and I found that one of my eyes was covered up. There was something else which was even weirder, but I couldn’t immediately figure out what it was, so I turned my head and saw that Maze was on a chair beside me, but asleep, slumped against the wall.
I heard someone shift on my other side, and that was harder to look at because of my covered eye. Without understanding why, I didn’t want to move my hand, and kept it over the bandage, but eventually I managed to shift round enough to see Zan, who I think must have moved so I could see her. She plainly needed to sleep a lot too, but mostly she looked incredibly relieved and happy-upset.
I wanted to say something about she should smile more often, but that’s when I realised what was really weird. No interface. Not at all. Trying to talk and not having suggestions for words coming in my mind really threw me. I couldn’t even remember really common words which I’d actually learned, my brain was so mushy. So I just tried to smile back at her, and said: "Stupid language," in English in a really croaky voice, and most sensibly passed out.
Next time I opened my eyes, Zee was there instead, and I was a little more capable of stringing two thoughts together. And seemed to be in less pain, but also on fewer painkillers, so I felt it more. I was pleased that I could remember a few words of Taren this time, and managed: "No interface?" but my throat really didn’t like me talking, and my chest felt all congested and my mouth tasted foul, so I coughed until Zee fetched a greysuit who helped me spit out black stuff and drink some water – from which I figured that the Setari again have orders not to touch me.
I hate being in the medical section, especially anything which involves drips and catheters and tubes. Tare’s technology seems to be pretty similar to Earth’s in respect of tubes, and the greysuit sent Zee away and did a bunch of tests, and fed me about a half a cup of a horrible salty-sweet drink, but thankfully removed the tubes. Some time during this I caught sight of my arms, and was holding them up and staring at them when Zee came back with Maze and a different greysuit.
"I look like the world’s worst junkie," I said, still in English, turning my arms to better appreciate their purple and blue glory. I’d never seen anything like it. Even my palms were bruised.
I couldn’t understand what they said back, of course. Maze looked like he’d had a proper rest, so I’m guessing it was a lot later than the first time I woke. They were being pleased I was awake, but serious at the same time, and Zee said something to me slowly which had the word for interface in it a couple of times. I just shrugged, though I was finding that moving hurt and staying still hurt, which didn’t really seem fair. Then I felt all tingly for a moment, and like I was catching up with myself.
"Can you understand now?" the greysuit asked, and I nodded, but put my hand back over my bandaged eye because it had started hurting rather more than anything else. "Some lingering malformation there," the greysuit said helpfully, but did something which made it stop hurting. "It’ll be a few days before the remedial work is complete and the remnant toxins are flushed from her system," he added. "But there doesn’t seem to be any loss of function."
"Mission log’s intact," Maze murmured to Zee, and nodded to the greysuit, who gave me a last glance and went away.
"Everyone alive?" I asked, and saw the no in their faces before Zee answered.
"Ammas from Sixth Squad died during the return to base," she said, and we all looked down at the same time, as if it was rehearsed. "You remember what happened?"
"Up to door." I glanced at my arms again. "It fall on me?"
"No." Zee wrinkled her nose. "Your interface started growing again, destructively beyond prescribed limits. It became non-functional and had to be shut down and pared back." She indicated the purple patterns beneath my skin. "That’s partly the damage and partly slough from the repair work. Your left eye suffered the most, but they don’t expect permanent problems."
Nanotech. I sighed. Convenient as it is, I’d really appreciate it if my interface didn’t keep trying to kill me.
"We’ve only had the outside view of what happened after you reached the door," Maze said, passing me across a log file. From his faintly abstracted expression, I guessed he was reviewing mine, a thing which always makes me feel totally weird.
The log file was Haral’s, watching through the gate as I jogged with a curving wobble toward the end to the Pillar. It wasn’t too obvious at that distance that I ran into the door rather than deliberately stopping, but I stood there for at least a count of five before my brain caught up and I pushed the thing shut. I turned to cross to the other door in a business-like way, but paused in the gap, looking inside.