"A would-be rescuer, in fact," said the other of the oldest Kalrani, a guy called Tahan Morel. He’s tall with sharp brown eyes under straight dark brows, and a very expressive wide mouth. Not hostile, but with an edge of sarcastic challenge which is pretty refreshing compared to the way most people treat me. "You didn’t have anything you wanted to tell the world?"
I thought about it. "Only that that official encyclopaedia spells Australia really badly."
He laughed. "That’s not the story that reporter was looking for, I’d bet."
"You really have nothing to complain of?" Alaz asked, sounding disbelieving.
"Sure. Complain lots about combat training. Hate that can’t go anywhere by myself. Loathe second level monitoring. Don’t see what good would do telling any of that to reporter."
"I don’t recall anyone noting complaints about your combat training," Taarel said, looking amused.
"Mara said pulling faces counted as complaining."
Unfortunately that made Taarel schedule some combat training for us tomorrow morning, though she has to find a suitable room for it. It was good to have more people willing to talk to me. I wonder whether it will be Alaz or Morel who ends up in Fourteenth Squad.
The whole thing with the reporter made me realise that hordes of them have probably asked to interview me. That random people were surely trying to contact me, for whatever reason, and that KOTIS just doesn’t pass any of that on to me. I’m not sure if that bothers me or not.
Saturday, April 26
Positive outcomes
Maze opened a channel to me last night after dinner. Mainly to chat about the reporter, but also about me generally and what was likely to happen to me over the next few years. Not that he can be really certain what will happen, but he could confirm that there wasn’t a chance in hell that I’d be going anywhere without minders. I talked a little about the complete lack of control I have over anything I do, and how I understood that the restrictions were for my protection, but it was just occasionally it got to me.
Happily we moved on to the work being done on Muina, and it was nice to realise that Maze was excited by what’s been happening there. A little confused by Arenrhon, but not upset by the implication that the Lantarens were even more arrogant than everyone had realised. Like the discovery of the Pillar, he saw Arenrhon as a chance to uncover the mechanics of the problem. It was, he said, better to learn more before turning off any more Pillars, because we really had no idea whether turning off the Pillars would necessarily fix the problem. But while he agreed with Taarel’s assessment of the need for urgency, they now at least had the prospect of achieving more than simply fighting continually increasing numbers of Ionoth.
"And," he added just before saying goodbye, "locating your planet hasn’t stopped being a high priority simply because the Nuran told us your talent set is beyond rare. Since we know there’s a natural gate in Pandora’s general region, there are standing orders for any Path Sight talents to try to locate it."
Maze was upbeat, but I could tell he was tired. I’m continuing to try to keep my dramas down to a minimum, because I’m one of the things which worries him a lot.
This morning was combat training in a conference room, squished between a small stage and chairs stacked along one wall. I’m sure Taarel simply wanted the Kalrani to get a little exercise to balance all the exhausting themselves with Ena manipulation they’ve been doing, but that didn’t mean she went easy on us.
I’m at such a basic level, still trying to consistently block a simple attack. The twelve year-olds could have taken me down easily, but Taarel partnered me herself. I can’t tell how good she is – everyone seems so deadly to me – but she was a patient teacher, encouraging but relentless in pushing me to be more aggressive. She told me afterwards that I needed to overcome my reluctance to hit people. I hadn’t thought about it that way before, but I think she’s right: I do flinch away from the idea of landing blows. I like working with Taarel, though she acts as if I’m a couple of years younger than I am.
We’ve grown used to the fuss at the Junction, which shows no sign of dying down, no matter how we move our arrival and departure times, or how brief our actual appearance is. The atmosphere inside the tent has changed: we’re all chatting a little more. Muina remains the main topic of conversation, and we talk over the latest news releases. The exploratory teams are constantly expanding the known world of Muina, sending back some spectacular visuals from their aerial surveys. It’s a beautiful world, and most of it lush and green with fewer of the dry, arid sections so common on Earth. Not so much huge interrupted ocean, either, but a more even distribution of land and lakes.
One day of this left, and tomorrow looks to be a short day. There’s maybe a tenth to go and we plan to finish it off just after breakfast.
Sunday, April 27
Unara thanks you
It’s done. I think the people most relieved are the police security detail, though I’ll bet the Kalrani are also glad to see the end of it. The area will be closely monitored for years, in case the gate re-opens, but by the time we were back at the hotel in the middle of our post-session medical exams they were already dismantling the big metal lock which has been taking up half the concourse for decades. The news services had plenty of happy warbling by officials in interviews, and excited comments from Setari-watchers about what everyone had looked like, and the fact that as we trailed off for the last time Kinear – one of a set of twelve year-old twins who would be mischievous if they weren’t Kalrani – turned and waved goodbye to the humungous audience.
And just when I thought it was all over, Taarel came to tell me that the Lahanti (mayor of Unara) has invited us to dinner, although it will be more afternoon teatime for us. We’re going off to shop for clothes in a few minutes.
Monday, April 28
Dinner Conversation
Yesterday was one part fun, two parts uncomfortable. Pampering and fuss and then the kind of glitzy meal which would make Mum produce dry comments, but with people I didn’t know or particularly like.
I’m not altogether sure why we couldn’t just wear our uniforms to dinner, but I by no means minded going off to a boutique store opposite our hotel to try on dresses, despite the fusspot aide from the Lahanti’s office who was in charge of making us suitable. Tare might be a meritocracy, but that doesn’t mean everyone’s all sunshine and equality. Being rich is still a bigger thing than being smart.
The aide – Nona Maersk – didn’t seem to think much of the Setari, but it took Taarel maybe two minutes to get the woman eating out of her hand. Taarel has a kind of radiant self-confidence and warmth of spirit which is very difficult to resist. That looks weird written down, but it’s the best I can describe Taarel. She also looked phenomenally awesome in a dark green, velvety-textured dress, with her hair done up in a curling knot. I had something which shimmered between purple and blue and red depending on the angle, and I liked the way I looked in it, except that it made my repaired eye look even more purple.
Maersk’s attitude towards me was disjointed. She treated me as the guest of honour (Taarel, Sefen, Orla, Morel, Alaz and I were going), but she also treated me like I was five. Speaking very clearly and slowly, and also sometimes talking to Taarel about me as if I wasn’t in the room. I amused myself by pretending that I could barely understand her, and speaking incredibly fractured Taren – at least until Taarel opened a private channel and told me to stop.