Muinan culture must have been very unified before they had to leave. Given the similarity of Kolar, Nuri and Tare’s languages, they must have all started out speaking the same way. But I guess the similarity was partly a result of having a single ruling class which could teleport and travel through wormholes and, according to Katha, were all raised and taught to control their powers at some kind of central imperial training city. Not Nurioth – a place called Kalasa, though the Tarens don’t know much more than the name. Figuring out which of the ruined cities is Kalasa is another expedition priority.
The greysuits had some heartfelt discussions about the murals. Dase and Katha, who I only occasionally get a chance to talk to now that they’ve been moved out of the Diodel to the tent city, were divided on the question. Dase thinks the murals must be representations of Muina and two unknown gods, or possibly even aspects of Muina. Katha thinks it’s three Lantarens. Since the Lantarens aren’t held in great esteem on Tare, I’m not precisely sure why it’s so upsetting for her to see images showing they were incredibly narcissistic. But then, Tare and Kolar both have a fairly unified view of what a god is (or rather they don’t believe in gods, they believe planets have spirits).
Anya from Ninth, who has been stuck on night watch since Ninth Squad was rotated here, unfortunately has been moved to day watch. Urg. She and Katzyen really aren’t benefiting by being on the same schedule, and though they’re not openly glaring at each other, there’s a distinct frost which seems to be extending to all the Taren Setari.
Which is the main reason I was eating dinner with Dase and Katha.
Wednesday, April 16
Killing time
Fourth Squad’s gone off gate-mapping again today, since there’s been no progress in getting to the next level of Creepy Undercity. I had one of my regularly scheduled medical exams in the morning, during which the medic noted I had a big bruise on my leg from training and a few random minor bruises and sore bits, but otherwise was the healthiest I’d been since the last time I nearly died. The amount of sitting-about I get through continues to benefit my school work, and I’ve moved on to marginally more interesting classes. Even though my spelling is pathetic, my comprehension has increased enough that I can push through most lessons super-quick. But it’s still frustrating, rather like this site, which everyone thought was such a big discovery, but which hasn’t given us any explanations at all.
The day’s growing cloudy and win–
–
Okay, pissed off now. I was sitting at the outside tables in the mess area writing when I heard someone gasp and stumble next to me, nearly dropping the drinks they were carrying. I didn’t hear the crunch, but I glanced up to see a couple of greysuits looking guiltily at the ground at my thoroughly trodden-on watch.
My face must have shown exactly what I felt – kicked in the guts – because they went from sorry to stricken, the one not holding the drinks rushing to pick up my watch and turn it over hopefully, only to have the back fall off. It was just an el cheapo digital, $20. The face was cracked and dead and I totally felt like crying.
But I didn’t. I’m proud of that in retrospect, of holding it together enough to look around me, just a log-capture in every direction. I told the greysuits that it was okay – not that they believed me for a second – and took the bits of my watch and went back to the Diodel. I had my schoolbag with me, tucked into the end of my pod, and grabbed out my long-neglected mobile. The battery had run down ages ago, and I hadn’t chased up finding out how it had been charged since I’d copied the music into my interface already. Then I found one of the science greysuits and asked if she had any idea how it had been recharged.
Her name was Elless Royara and she took my phone like it was a brand new toy, but all she had to do was look up the records of whatever they’d done before, then put it in a thing which looked like a microwave, but recharged instead of frying my mobile. It seems it wasn’t really a difficult thing to do: the Tarens have gone through a few centuries of equipment becoming obsolete, and have plenty of practice working out ways to recharge older, museum pieces.
After thanking Elless I went back to the Diodel and turned on my phone. It had been so long the date and time needed to be reset, but I could at least make a rough guesstimate of what proper Sydney time would be, and of course the date hadn’t changed from when I’d started writing in my diary.
Only then did I let myself relax, and review my log.
I almost always wear my watch underneath my uniform, unless it’s a mission or some other situation where I think I might get soaked. But I often take it off when I’m writing, because the buckle presses into my wrist. I’d set it on the corner of the table, near my elbow. It wasn’t in my peripheral vision, and I suppose it’s within the bounds of possibility that I’d knocked it off and it had bounced onto the rocky ground next to me and got itself crushed.
But I didn’t really believe that, and a careful review of my log showed me Terel Revv from Ninth watching. Revv’s one of Anya’s cronies, and a telekinetic. Not proof, of course, and he was actually looking pretty unhappy.
They probably didn’t realise how important it is to me, to know what date it is on Earth. To know when I should be wishing my family happy birthday, to mark the dates of the year back home. To be able to keep track of my own age.
I don’t see that there’s anything to gain from making a fuss. I’ll be more careful not to give people opportunities, and certainly won’t sit out in public writing my diary again, or leave my mobile exposed. I need to remember that I’m someone who total strangers will feel strongly about: whether to be grateful I unlocked their world, or to hate me for threatening their ideas of Muina’s past, or whatever Anya has against me.
The Setari needs fewer assholes.
Pass/Fail
Fuss happens, whether I want it to or not.
After venting in my diary, I hung about the deserted passenger lounge of the Diodel fooling with my newly revived mobile, listening to proper played-out-loud songs while it grew darker and windier outside. Then Tsur Selkie showed up with Ruuel in tow. Time for a pause in the music.
"Do you have your damaged wrist-piece with you?" Tsur Selkie asked, without preliminaries. He and Ruuel are alike in more than looks; since he considered it obvious why he was there, he didn’t think it necessary to explain.
I was momentarily tempted to pretend I’d thrown it away, but even in the unlikely event they believed me, they could have just used Path Sight. I expect I didn’t look very keen as I pulled it out of the little pocket I’d made for it, though.
"How did you know?" I asked, dropping it into his outstretched hand.
"The technician who crushed it was concerned about the strength of your reaction, and reported to his senior. One of the site guards on duty had you on log, including your survey of the area." Selkie wore gloves on both hands, one of them fingerless, and looked down as he touched a bare fingertip to the cracked face of my watch. He didn’t take more than a moment or two, and his face didn’t give anything away as he handed the watch to Ruuel, but I knew he must have seen something to confirm my suspicions because he went on to ask: "Have there been other incidents?"