I don't seem to distort everything though. Or, at least, it's not noticeable if I am. But Mara's 'Light whip' has a more melting effect when I enhance her, and Alay's Illusion casting goes totally weird. Ketzaren felt dizzy when she tried to make me levitate and Lohn – who gives a good imitation of a Star Wars blaster shooting beams of Light – made a burning wall instead. There was a big pause after that, where First Squad stood about looking disconcerted and listening to someone I couldn't hear, who I guess was having conniptions.
The one thing they did establish is that I consistently distort. So Lohn's beams always became a wall, and Mara's Light whip was always the same. They cheered up after that. They're still going to have to go carefully working out just what effect I have, but consistently weird is a lot better than randomly weird.
And now I'm back in my box waiting for the next test. I think it's the fact that the door won't open to me that bothers me most.
Monday, January 21
Still alive still
I spent the beginning of the day translating song lyrics for Nenna. I am improving. My grammar is terrible, and I had to write a huge amount of explanatory notes to make half the concepts remotely understandable, but it showed me how far I'd come in being able to communicate. Talking to First Squad between testing sessions has been helping. I was feeling very proud of myself, even if I could tell it was a botched job, and had just mailed it off to her when I was brought down for another testing session.
This was more of the same, just working on the limits of me enhancing people. So they had two, then three of the Setari touching me at the same time to see how many people I could enhance at once.
And down I went. I never used to pass out on frequent occasions. I'm not epileptic, and I never had a fit till I came to this planet. Until now they weren't sure if I was being physically stressed by whatever I'm doing to enhance people. And, well, now they know.
They're getting more anxious about killing me, I think. The greysuits, that is, and whoever it is giving orders over the interface. I don't see these at all, just First Squad and greysuits.
First Squad were very upset, and Zee and Maze came to the infirmary after I'd woken up again and we all apologised to each other for nothing which was our own fault. They don't seem bothered by the tests, they just think they should have somehow predicted what was going to happen and prevented it.
Change of pace
Sa Lents came to see me for the first time since Nenna's accident. He didn't act like he blamed me or anything, but it was still uncomfortable. No experiments 'today', just talking with Sa Lents, trying to describe Earth's history.
My sleep schedule is totally messed up. The lack of proper day and night, and the way the people I've been working with all seem to be on different shifts, really messes with me. Their breakfast is my dinner and so forth.
Tuesday, January 22
Zan
Today I was assigned to a girl called Zan. She's from Twelfth Squad and is another telekinetic. She's short and very serious and has blonde-brown hair which is very fine and cut into a soft and wispy bob. Quite pretty golden-brown eyes.
They've decided to postpone further experiments with me because they think I'm too worn down. Being half-starved on Muina and then that bad cold and then the broken collarbone and all these bad reactions I've had are adding up. Even though I've had regular meals and not really done anything since I was rescued, I've not put on much weight and certainly aren't fit. They want me to get healthy and they're going to confine the tests purely to Zan's Telekinesis for a while. She only has the one psychic talent, with no secondary talents at all.
She's also going to train me. In some kind of judo, which is not exactly something I'm keen on. Hitting people is...just not me. They want to study the effect of prolonged exposure to Zan, and at the same time make me a bit more capable of surviving, should they ever decide it's a good idea to use me in combat. I really am a potential weapon to these people.
It's hard to tell what Zan thinks of all this. She's what Mum would call 'scrrrrupulously correct' and even though she's trained all her life to be an incredibly deadly monster fighter, she didn't act as if there was anything odd about teaching some unco beginner how to stand and how to step back and forward over and over again. Must be dull as hell for her.
She did do the wide-eyed thing when they tested how I enhanced her. By herself she's a lot stronger than Maze. With me, she can lift all the test blocks at once.
Wednesday, January 23
Lab Rat One
I spent all of today having test after test in the medical labs. Ista Tremmar is polite and all, but she's still inclined to leave me sitting on an examining table for an hour while they talk about me. If I didn't have the interface kindergarten to keep me occupied I'd go mad.
Maybe that's what Zan does during our exercises – zones out and reads her email. If I ask her questions, she answers in the briefest possible way, and she never asks me anything. I miss Nenna's chatter so much. I miss that she treated me as a person as well as an exciting curiosity.
When I was delivered back to my box today I drew a rat on all my clothes, and wrote 'Lab Rat One' underneath it, making a little logo for my official designation on this world.
Today I particularly miss Alyssa. I've only known Alyssa a few years, but she's the only person I really tell things to. I hadn't realised how important that was to me.
Thursday, January 24
Attitude adjustment
Strange how going around wearing my lab rat logo makes me feel so much better. This morning's session with Zan went well because I felt less like I was helplessly doing what I was told, and was, well, doing what I was told while wearing an ironic comment about it.
We're still working on stances. Step forward, step backward, over and over again, very controlled. I concentrated more on it this time, deciding I at least may as well do the best I can, even if I know that I'm never going to be really good at this kind of stuff, and will only be laughable in comparison to athletic people who have been training since they were five. I'm going to have a go at cracking Zan, too – at least get her to treat me a little less like an assignment. I don't care if she takes a teacher/student attitude, even though she can't be more than a year older than me, but I want some kind of interaction, some kind of response.
I'm really curious about her now, about if she's so serious and unsmiling all the time, and why. First Squad was a lot more open and friendly. And I know I'm not going to get a chance to work out Zan if I'm all sullen and unwilling. I mightn't have a whole lot of power and independence in this place, but I can control the way I act and that will make me feel better.
I've never thought of myself as a 'typical' Australian – that whole laconic and stoic thing – but I'm trying to use that attitude to cope with here. To copy Nick, who is always so calm and unfussed by everything that the world throws at him. Not super-optimistic or unbelievably Pollyanna, but he sets a great balance between dealing with the bad stuff and enjoying all the good bits. Nick would never lose sight of the fact that I'm no longer starving on Muina.
Nick's an ex-step-cousin. His dad was married to my Aunt Sue when we were younger, and we saw a lot of each other – all the family holidays and so forth. His dad started being an ass, so my aunt divorced him, and Nick does a lot of making sure he doesn't go completely off the rails. We still live in the same area, though, and Mum and Aunt Sue keep including Nick in holidays as if we're still related and I see him at inter-school events. He's not quite one of those incredibly popular people like HM, but he has a relaxed focus on what he thinks is fun which makes him really great to be around. Nick would be far better able to cope with being here.
Friday, January 25
Baby steps
I've started looking forward to my sessions with Zan. Not because I like the exercise particularly, but because I'm actually doing something. Medical examinations are the worst – sitting around for ages, holding still for the benefit of the scanner
s, or getting blood samples taken.
Since I'm waiting around all the time, either in my box or being examined, I'm damn lucky I have something to do, but kindergarten is keeping me sane and driving me nuts at the same time. I want back the access I had before my accident. I can't watch any of the entertainment channels, or even try to read books longer than twenty words. I asked about getting access back, and they said I had to reach certain qualification levels. In other words, no play until I'm out of school. It's obviously an attempt to push me to improve my language skills, but, heck, I'm sure I'd learn lots of useful words watching that silly singing Setari show Nenna liked so much.
Training, even though it's repetitive and I tire quickly, is like being let out of a cage. While Zan is correct and distant, she's also patient, and I think it makes training some idiot stray better for her if I try. I do feel a complete gangling gawk beside her; she's so small and fine-boned. But quite deadly. I saw her practicing when I came in this morning, and was wholly dismayed at the thought of ever trying to move like that, but it seems she's aiming to train me to dodge, rather than try and hit things. And to be fitter and wheeze less.
Saturday, January 26
Speed trial
I hit a round of tests in my interface kindergarten, and was on the back foot from the start since tests trigger a 'test environment', and it's almost like being in a darkened room inside your own head. I could just see the real room. I hadn't realised how thoroughly the interface could impact my senses, and while Ista Tremmar told me later that the interface is restricted from making people completely blind and deaf for safety reasons, that did not reassure me in the slightest.
The tests were timed, which made them incredibly hard for me, since I barely have a basic command of the language, and it takes me too long to understand exactly what the question is before trying to formulate the answer. So of course I ran out of time and only finished the maths test. I aced maths, but failed the tests overall. And now I seem to be repeating kindergarten, which sucks, since the questions are incredibly easy. I don't know if I can get better at this language before I die of boredom.
Looking forward to my session with Zan immensely, because it doesn't matter how badly I speak.
Sunday, January 27
Hands off
Today's practice didn't go quite as scheduled.
I was frustrated over failing the tests yesterday, but stepping back and forth is pretty calming, and so is Zan. I was just thinking that maybe I should call her 'Zen' instead when she stopped stepping back and forth and turned to look up.
The practice room is small and bare, with a floor of padded mats and a high ceiling with a window 'upstairs' in one wall so people can watch. Ista Tremmar had been up there earlier, but when Zan looked there were a half-dozen Setari. The most noticeable was a tall blonde guy at the front, his hands raised in fists against the glass as if he'd just hit it. He was glaring down at Zan like he wanted to hit her instead. Then he stormed out of the chamber, most of the other Setari following him.
Two of them stayed, and I was caught up looking at the girl first because I don't think I've seen anyone that gorgeous outside model magazines. She had that antelope look, but athletic rather than stick-thin. Even at that distance I could see her eyes were very black, with big irises and long lashes. Her skin was creamy bronze and her hair was unreal – these two spirals curling down past her ribs. She was almost as unsmiling as Zan, but I think her attitude was mainly curiosity. Not angry, anyway. The guy with her looked enough like her to be her brother (though no long pigtails, heh), and I didn't recognise him until he tilted his head a particular way to talk, and I realised he was one of the two Setari who had found me on Muina.
Just then Zan told me to go stand in the corner, which totally pissed me off. Even though I'd figured out that there was a yelling match coming, I'm not a dog to be told to sit and stay and get put out of the way. But I went, and just in time, as the door to the hall opened and the blond guy stormed in. There were a bunch of other Setari looking in the door at us, but they stayed there.
"This is it?" the guy was yelling (well, in Taren, you get the idea). "This is your special assignment? The reason we're all on downtime is you're playing with some profanity stray?"
Swear words aren't in my language tool. I can tell it's a swear word, but not what it means, so it's like my head says 'profanity' whenever someone swears. I find that funny and annoying at the same time. I need to find someone who is willing to teach me what they mean.
I knew enough of Zan by this time to not be surprised at her complete lack of reaction to some really buff guy standing over her and shouting. She just said: "Stand down," in a curt little voice and went and picked up one of the towels we'd brought in with us.
I'm not so good at not reacting, so when the blond guy turned toward me, I was glad Zan had stuck me in the corner. And I'm pretty sure I did the open-mouthed gaping thing when he suddenly lifted up and was slammed into one of the walls, for all I knew perfectly well Zan was a telekinetic.
"I said, 'Stand down', Lenton," Zan said, and, wow, totally cold voice. She wasn't smiling or frowning, but her eyes had narrowed and I decided then that it would never be a good idea to piss Zan off.
The Lenton guy didn't take the hint though, and looked really offended and told Zan to put him down before he made her regret it. He was calling her "Namara", which is her surname. All the Setari seem to call each other by their surnames. Zan calls me "Devlin" and I generally avoid calling her by either name because I think it sounds stupid to call someone you see every day by her surname. Even First Squad seem to do it most of the time. I think – hope – it's some kind of on-duty thing and that they're more human to each other when they're not being all proper.
Before the shouting match turned into a bigger mess all the Setari except Zan, who was probably expecting it, paused in clear reaction to suddenly getting a message in their heads. Zan put the Lenton guy down and though he glared at her, he strode off without another word.
"Get changed," Zan said to me, glancing back up at the observation room. The two Setari there were still watching, but turned and left when she just stood looking at them.
"Everyone's really competitive?" I asked. "Or just no manners?" Except, given my grammar and how slow I say stuff, it was more like "Compete all much? Manners no?" I really hate sounding so stupid. Yoda with a lobotomy.
Zan didn't reply. She never responds to questions like that, and I sure as hell wasn't going to push her, so I went and changed out of the loose training jumpsuit into my knee-length cargo-style pants and a sleeveless t-shirt featuring my lab rat logo. I really did draw it on every shirt I considered mine – not my school uniform, but the clothes I'd bought with Nenna and her mother. Zan put on her black uniform, which she manages in a surprisingly short amount of time for something so skin-tight.
Next was the big testing room, where every Setari in the complex had obviously been ordered to assemble. Maze had told me there were twelve active squads of six people so the rows six people deep showed me who was in which squad. They left spaces for the people who weren't there – three missing teams and a few random gaps. And then they brought me 'into channel' and I saw that even a few of the missing people were 'there': attending the meeting through their interfaces rather than in person. Little see-through holographic pictures of them filled in some of the empty spots. Lohn from First Squad and Zan were the only ones out of place, over to one side near me.
Since Maze was at the first spot of the first set, it was pretty easy to guess that the squad captains stood at front. The team next to him was around the same age – mid-twenties – and everyone else late teens or perhaps twenty. The gap left by Zan in Twelfth Squad was the first spot, which meant she was their captain. News to me. The blond guy was next spot back and was trying to look super-correct, though his face was tense and set. The girl and guy I'd seen in the observation room were the captains of Third and Fourth Squad respectively.
Even th
e people in charge had shown up as interface projections: the first time I'd seen any of them. They wore blue, which I guess means 'officer'. No-one was chatting, or doing anything but looking straight ahead. And me the only person not in uniform, sticking out like a sore thumb.
Another interface projection 'appeared'. A woman, compact and stern, her hair clipped really short, with a hint of grey in it. She had the really black, almond eyes of the observation-room girl and guy. The Setari all saluted her – they do a fist to shoulder sort of salute – so it was pretty easy to tell she was in charge.
I can re-watch what happens next, and have a few times, because it occurred to me I could record everything. It's really weird to be able to do that, and I'm glad they've not taken the ability away, since this is a scene it's interesting to play over. So far as I can tell, I can't play the recording for anyone who doesn't have the right security level. It makes me wonder what security level I have.
"This is a level 5 classified briefing," said the woman. "As you are aware, Fourth Squad recovered a displaced person from Muina during last month's mission. Namara and Kettara will demonstrate why this has become important."
Zan went first, turning and looking at the big metal blocks. "Current strength," she said, extra clearly, and lifted the largest block she was capable of managing alone. Then she glanced at me, totally giving orders just by turning her eyes in my direction. I was hard put not to roll my own, but obediently stuck my hand on her shoulder, which she'd suggested as less restrictive than hand-holding.
"Enhanced strength."
I had turned to watch their faces when she lifted all the blocks. Only First Squad didn't react, since they'd seen all this before. Most of them did the eyes-going-really-wide thing. A few shifted from their spots, or were openly astonished or upset, but then went back to stony-faced as quickly as they could manage.
The Touchstone Trilogy Page 8