Authors: Janet Edwards
There wasn’t any other way to leave. Playdon wouldn’t stand there watching while I stole a sled, and Dig Site Command wouldn’t activate an emergency evac portal just because a Foundation course student was throwing a tantrum.
All right, I told myself. I’ll sit here like a well behaved, downtrodden ape and do as I’m told, but when we get back to the dome … I pictured it, trying to plan exactly what I’d say, but there was no glow of satisfaction as I did it. Things had changed since I started my war against the exos. I’d planned to vent my fury and frustration on a bunch of strangers, and now I knew these people. I didn’t want to shout insults at them. Krath might deserve it, but could I really yell abuse at Fian, Dalmora and Amalie, walk away, and feel good about myself afterwards?
No, I decided, it wasn’t going to be the exit I’d planned when I was back in Next Step. When the class were back at the dome, I’d pack and I’d leave, but I’d do it with dignity. I’d slip away to the portal when everyone was at dinner, or when they were asleep.
I heard Amalie calling me to shift some rocks, and carefully moved them as instructed, then started to calculate time zones. I was in Earth America, so I could portal out in the middle of the night and arrive in Earth Europe in the early morning. I’d have to find somewhere to stay, contact Candace, and …
‘It’s not working, is it?’
Playdon’s voice made me jump twice. Firstly, when I heard it. Secondly, when I realized he wasn’t talking over the comms link, but was standing right next to me.
‘No, it isn’t,’ he answered his own question. ‘I can hear the stress in her voice. Pity. Amalie has the abilities I need in my team 2 tag leader, but she’s not comfortable taking a leading role on the dig site and I daren’t push her. She’s under enough strain trying to keep up with the academic side of the course after her very patchy schooling in Epsilon. I’ll just have to let her stay in her familiar territory of working a heavy lift sled.’
I didn’t say a word. I couldn’t even make a noise. Playdon was testing Amalie for his team 2 tag leader spot. I should have known that. I would have known that if I hadn’t been a paranoid ape, with her nerves on edge, and her brain stupid with fatigue after a sleepless night.
‘So, you get to keep your current team, Jarra,’ continued Playdon. ‘Krath’s reliable on a heavy lift, but he’s not an option as tag leader because he never stops to think before doing things. Dalmora hasn’t the physical strength needed for tag leading, and Fian has just calmly told me that being tag leader wouldn’t suit him but he might consider having my job as team leader. Fortunately, the lad realizes he needs a few years experience before he can do that.’
I gave a startled laugh.
‘It’s certainly not impossible. Team leaders usually start their careers as either tag leader or tag support, and Fian’s the right type to …’
Playdon let that sentence trail off, tapped his lookup, and an array of small disembodied heads suddenly appeared in front of me. With a flick of his fingers, he sent a group of five of them off to the left. I automatically looked at those faces and saw they were team 1. Fian was looking worried about something, I was wrinkling my nose in concentration, and Dalmora’s hair was filled with glowing lights. My guess was the holos had been taken on our first day on the course, maybe during our meet and greet.
‘What made you pick Fian for your tag support?’ asked Playdon.
I was still a bit of a mess from my panic earlier, but I’d regained enough sense not to mention Fian’s resemblance to Arrack San Domex. ‘He seemed sensible and intelligent, sir.’
‘He is. Any suggestions for team 2 members?’
I pointed out a couple of Deltans, and Kai from Gamma.
‘Interesting,’ said Playdon. ‘I’d considered two of them myself, but I hadn’t thought of Kai.’
‘She’s quiet, but very bright. I was thinking she might be good on sensors,’ I said.
Playdon nodded. ‘I’ll add them to my list and see if your instinct is right again.’
He went off and collected a group of impact suit clad figures together. There were ten of them, so Playdon was obviously trying to fill places on both team 2 and team 3. He spent a long time talking to them, and I was glad of the chance to sit in peace and recover from my emotional overload.
Team 1 spent the rest of that morning training Playdon’s candidates for teams 2 and 3. My job was to teach four of them how to use tag guns and hover belts. Playdon must be unsure which of the four had the makings of a tag leader, or possibly thinking ahead to teams 4 and 5. Teaching a novice how to point and fire a tag gun is straightforward, apart from the constant hazard of ricochets from badly aimed tags, but I was still relieved when it was time to head back to the dome. I’d been very tired when we set out for the dig site, and after my panic attack over losing key spot, and the usual strain of working in an impact suit for several hours, I felt on the point of collapse.
I actually lay down on the transport sled for the trip back, which helped a bit, but I clearly still didn’t look too good when I took off my suit, because I found Dalmora lying in wait for me when I came out of the shower.
‘Jarra, are you ill?’
I just wanted to be left alone, but I could see she was genuinely concerned, so I could hardly tell her to nuke off. ‘I’m just tired,’ I said. ‘I didn’t sleep well.’
I regretted my words the minute I’d said them. I was an utter nardle. I’d just told Dalmora that I’d had a sleepless night after Krath’s ape joke. I might just as well put up a banner telling people I was an ape. I hastily came out with an excuse.
‘I was caught by a few rocks when that wall collapsed yesterday morning. I’ve got impact suit bruising, and it’s very sore.’
Dalmora frowned. ‘You should go to Hospital Earth America Casualty and get it checked.’
‘It’s only bruising,’ I said, heading down the corridor to my room.
She followed me, not just down the corridor but into my room, and stood there silently with folded arms.
I sighed. ‘Dalmora, it’s only a bruise. Look.’
I tugged aside the edge of my skintight to show part of a deep black and blue bruise on my left side, which had the distinctive crosshatched lines left by impact suit material triggering hard. It wasn’t particularly significant or painful. I was a tag leader, so I just about always had at least one major impact suit bruise, as well as a scattering of the small brown circular bruises left by ricocheting tags, but Dalmora had obviously never seen anything like it before.
‘That looks awful. You should get it treated.’
There was no real need to make a fuss about it, impact suit bruises always look more dramatic than they are, but since it was the perfect explanation for anything odd in my behaviour …
‘There’s no need for me to go to casualty, but it does hurt, so could you do me a favour and ask Playdon for a size 7 fluid patch.’
‘A size 7 fluid patch.’ Dalmora repeated the words.
She vanished off out of the door. There was no point in getting dressed, so I tugged on a robe, sat on my bed, and waited. After a few minutes, Dalmora came back, and I was startled to see she’d brought Playdon with her.
‘Dalmora tells me you were hurt yesterday, Jarra,’ he said. ‘You should have told me at once.’
Chaos take it, my simple excuse was getting out of hand. Fortunately … ‘It’s only an impact suit bruise, sir, just one of the sore ones. I’d show you, but it’s under my skintight so …’
I swear the man actually blushed. ‘I didn’t mean to imply … You’re sure you haven’t cracked a rib?’
‘Perfectly sure, sir. I’ve cracked a rib once, and I know how it feels. This is just a bad bruise.’
He handed over the sealed packet containing the fluid patch. ‘You know how to put this in place and activate it?’
I nodded.
‘If you’re still in any pain after the treatment cycle completes, then you’re going straight to casualty. I have a duty of care towards my students. Understand?’
‘Yes, sir.’
Playdon left, but Dalmora hesitated. ‘Do you need any help with the patch?’ she asked.
‘No, thank you,’ I said. ‘I’ve done this before, and since it’s somewhere a bit private …’
My hint at my statutory right to personal modesty worked its magic as well with Dalmora as it had with Playdon. Dalmora instantly retreated, and I was left alone in my room feeling the worst kind of fraud. Playdon was concerned about me. Dalmora had been so dreadfully nice.
I really and truly hate to admit I’m wrong, but sometimes I have to. Dalmora Rostha, the gifted daughter of Ventrak Rostha, born to be an adored Alphan vid personality of the future, and a living embodiment of everything I envied, was nice. I’d fought the idea for as long as I could, but she really was. It was truly sickening that someone so perfect should actually be nice as well, but …
I sighed, stripped off my robe and skintight, and went over to the mirror. I didn’t really need the patch, but it seemed vaguely more honest to use it. I ripped open the packet, unfolded the patch, and positioned it carefully over my bruise. When I was sure it was right, I pulled the activation loop, and gasped as the edges of the patch fastened to my skin and the icy chill of the fluid hit me.
‘One, two, three …’ I dutifully followed the instructions and counted up to twenty before getting dressed. As always, the feel of the fluid felt disturbingly cold and alien under normal clothes. I picked up my lookup and checked the time. We’d returned to our dome a little earlier than usual so I could afford to rest a while in my room.
I lay back on my bed, and messed around with my lookup, checking my mail and credit balance, and then setting it to bring up a holo gallery like the one Playdon had shown me on the dig site. I wasn’t showing the heads of my classmates of course, but of my friends from Next Step and school. Candace, and assorted other adults who’d been important in my life, were there as well. I was alone among the exos, confused about whether they were the villains or I was, and in a mood to even feel nostalgic about the Principal of my Next Step.
I’d just set the holo heads to drift randomly around the room, when there was a tap on the door.
‘It’s unlocked,’ I yelled.
As the door opened, I reached for my lookup to turn off the holos, but realized there was no need. Who could tell the heads of civilians from Military?
‘Playdon wondered if we should bring you some food.’
I’d expected it to be Dalmora again, but it was Fian, his eyes hesitating between me and the drifting holo heads.
‘No need,’ I said. ‘I’ll come to the hall and eat there. Dalmora rather overreacted. The bruising isn’t that bad, it just kept me awake last night.’
Fian frowned. ‘If I’d been faster, got you out of the way of that collapsing wall …’
Now I felt really guilty. ‘It’s not your fault. I’d tagged my rocks, was backing out of the way to let the heavy lifts shift them, and got too close to a wall that wasn’t as stable as it looked. I made a nardle mistake, and you were very fast and stopped me getting buried.’
Fian appeared unconvinced, but nodded and dropped the issue. He gestured at the heads. ‘Is Issette one of these?’
‘Yes.’ I pointed to Issette.
‘And Keon?’
I pointed to Keon.
Fian looked puzzled. ‘There isn’t much of a family resemblance.’
I was a nardle. I’d forgotten I’d said Keon was my brother. You only had to look at him to know we couldn’t possibly be related. The shape of the eyes was …
‘He’s adopted.’ I added yet another lie to the hundreds I’d already told. ‘His parents were close friends of mine, so when they were killed …’
‘Oh, I see.’
I grabbed my lookup, turned off the holo display, and stood up. ‘Let’s go and eat.’
Lunch was a hideously embarrassing affair. Playdon asked if the pain was easing. Fian brought my food over for me. Dalmora told everyone how terribly bruised I was. Amalie offered to make me some strange herbal drink from her home planet, Miranda, that was supposed to counteract fatigue and hangovers. Even the evil Krath insisted on bringing me more glasses of Fizzup than either norm or ape could possibly drink.
I was relieved when lunch was over and everyone, except poor injured Jarra who was only allowed to sit and watch, shuffled the tables and chairs ready for the afternoon lectures. Playdon was sticking to the wise approach of us working the site for a few hours in the morning, and having classes in the afternoon. Just being in an impact suit is tiring, every movement takes extra effort, and after a few hours of it you’re going to make more mistakes than usual.
I have no idea what Playdon talked about for the first hour of the afternoon. It could have been pre-history sex for all I know. I wasn’t in pain, but I was very tired and embarrassed about making all this fuss over a simple bruise, and I couldn’t seem to keep my own head under control. My brain was totally distracted, replaying all the events since I’d joined the class. Why in chaos had I got myself into this mess, and how was I going to get out of it? It was only when the entire class seemed to bounce with excitement that I came out of my private world and rejoined them.
‘That would be totally zan!’ said Fian, alive with enthusiasm.
‘Just totally!’ Everyone cried out.
What the chaos was going on? I sat up, paid attention, and tried to pick up clues on what I’d missed.
‘I think so too,’ said Lecturer Playdon. ‘I know we’re supposed to be covering pre-history, and this is much later than that, but I can’t resist it either. I’ve been waiting for this just as impatiently as any of you. So, Dalmora, please go ahead. You have an eager audience waiting.’
Everyone sat up straight in their flexiplas chairs, eyes on Dalmora as she stood up and went to the front of the hall. She turned on the big vid wall, inserted a chip, and started it playing. The wall flashed with some strange white symbols for a moment.
‘This is a copy taken straight after final editing,’ said Dalmora, ‘and those are the edit codes. The vid itself will start in a minute.’
She went and sat down. I’d worked out what was going on now. Dalmora must have an early copy of one of her father’s vids. With the class so excited, this had to be … I was grazzed!