There are endless stories about the Lantarens, most of which make them out to be arrogant mystic masters, but beyond being really great psychics, the true scope and nature of their powers isn't known.
So there's my context for starting Isten Notra's project, though I'm not sure how quickly I'll get that done when my mornings involve getting drunk and then sleeping it off. And still feeling tired in the evening.
Saturday, March 8
Early Muina Expeditions
Thirty years ago a drone returned through the rift gate having charted a path to a new habitable planet. The exploratory ship
Lonara
was despatched with a crew of twenty to survey the find. As planets go, Muina's a juicy one. Large polar caps and a few arid splotches, but the rest a very habitable green and blue gem. Lots of lakes. Massive cities of empty, white blockish buildings. The
Lonara
did a quick aerial survey of the first big city they found, and could see no sign of human life, though plenty of animals. They set down on what looked like a parade ground, left a few drones, and reported back that the home world had been located at last.
Both the
Lonara
and another ship, the
Tsaszen
, were sent to begin a more detailed exploration. Fifty crew altogether, a mixture of military and scientific specialists. The Tarens had known that Muina was dangerous – or had been when it was evacuated – so they'd expected to find it infested with Ionoth. But even before the Setari program began they'd developed plenty of effective anti-Ionoth weapons, and without their own cities and citizens in the way, that first expedition wasn't really expecting major problems.
They didn't report back.
A third ship, the
Maszar
, discovered only smoking rubble where the expedition was meant to be. The
Maszar
searched for survivors and found none, then returned to Tare. It was really sad reading the reports from that time. They had no idea what had happened. Had the ships been attacked by massives? Some kind of weapon? Sabotaged? There was a strong undertone in the reports that Kolar was suspected. The
Maszar
hadn't even been able to find the drones.
There was a lot of debate about going back in force or sending a small and very quiet mission. Small and quiet eventually won out. A ship called the
Danna
, carrying ten people. They tried to be sneaky, staying in the air a long time, landing well away from the city, scanning, scanning, scanning, and deploying a dozen drones. Half of them stayed with the ship and the other half went on a sled ('sled' is roughly what 'deeli', their name for their hovering transporters, translates to) to the site of the other crash to investigate. They arrived without incident and began sifting through the rubble, performing scans and searching for what seems to be the equivalent of a black box flight recorder. They were making good progress, not troubled at all by Ionoth or any other sign of attack, when they lost contact with their ship.
When yet another ship was despatched to investigate why the
Danna
hadn't returned, they found the five from the investigatory group camped beside the
Danna
's shattered hulk. They had no idea why it had exploded. There'd been no attacks in the two days since, and they'd continued to do their scans and investigatory work and were very glad to be rescued, thank you very much.
It took another exploding ship, the
Netz
, before KOTIS instituted a rule about ships only being able to remain on the planet for twelve hours. For their next attempt they established a camp of people on-planet and left them there, with regular two-day check-ins. That worked really well for about a week, and they made good progress on exploring the city, looking for records and important structures and anything to unravel the mysteries of the past and present. It seemed smaller machines didn't explode as quickly. Drones tended to not last more than a few days, but their sleds proved quite robust.
Then a massive attacked them. About half the thirty people there died – were eaten. They tried again, a different site with more people. Four days later they vanished entirely, not even the bodies remaining, and no signs of battle.
That all in the first year after Muina was re-discovered. And, twenty-nine years later, not much has changed. The Taren government reduced the permitted time on the planet to only three kasse. When they began to understand near-space a little better, they found that drones they set to power down instead of being constantly active usually didn't stop working. The drones trundle about, a bit like the Mars Explorer, recording everything they see for an hour or so, and then transmit their recordings to a collection drone and shut down for the day.
Satellites in orbit don't explode, at least, and they've one up making a complete aerial world map. GoogleMuina! I could even look up my village. I still haven't scratched the surface of the reports, just skipped through the main details. There's too many for me to ever hope to read everything. And I haven't found a single thing that seems worth telling Isten Notra. I guess I'll keep glancing at the files, but I've lost my initial enthusiasm.
On other fronts, more getting drunk in the morning to no visible benefit. They rather over-exposed me, and I passed out mid-session. There is a complete lack of fun in getting drunk while a bunch of serious people watch you and take notes.
I did better swimming today: I'm starting to feel that exercise isn't a thing of horror. I sent an email to Zan telling her that if she's ever bored, or not exhausted, and wants more swimming practice to come join me and she replied with "I'll do that." But since she's on a different shift, I guess the chances are pretty low.
Sunday, March 9
Not Clint Eastwood
This morning Tsur Selkie came to watch me be drunk. After observing through a viewing window, unenhanced and then enhanced, he had some poor junior greysuit stand next to me while they gassed us both. The greysuit was this short, very pretty guy who sweated and gritted his teeth even before the aether was piped in, and then shot me these outraged looks when I just lay there being bored while it was obviously hurting him plenty. He passed out fairly quickly.
Then Tsur Selkie had them pipe just a puff of aether over his own hand and my hand, watching with those flinty black eyes. He continues to remind me of Clint Eastwood, even though he doesn't look at all like him.
"Is same reaction, but reversed," I said helpfully, while Tsur Selkie was watching our hands. "Both lose fine motor control, reaction time slow, plus judgment, plus pass out. Is just way feel different. And healing or dying, guess. Are there any famous actor this world that people say you look like?"
That made him look up. I suppose it'll go in the mission log file. I can only be glad, since they'd decided to try out Sight Sight, that they hadn't used Ruuel for it. Who knows what I might have said to him?
"The difference is not in your reaction," Selkie said, after a moment. "But in the behaviour of the aether. It is attacking me."
That made me stare. "Is alive? Or more nanotech?"
"Possibly. The Nurans claim that we made Muina itself our enemy. The next question is why it recognises you as a friend."
"Everyone like Australians," I said, with a short laugh, but then sobered a little. "People from Earth, not good for own planet. Don't see why another would like."
He just turned away, signalling for them to open the doors.
"Wait." I reached out and grabbed his wrist, trying not to look too embarrassed about it. "Try test again."
Clint Eastwood's not the sort of guy you go about grabbing. And Tsur Selkie definitely isn't. But after a moment's thought he told them to try again, and stood there without changing expression as the jet of aether gusted out to cover his hand. Then he said: "Increase the amount."
I wasn't in the channel where most of the discussion was happening, so lay there working on the retention of minor shreds of dignity while watching Tsur Selkie get squiffy. He handled it well, but you could see the change, the gradual unfocusing of his eyes, the line of concentration appearing between the brows. Prime target for a random breath test.
By then I was finding most everything amusing, so I piped up with: "Drunk on duty. Ten demerit points." And laughed at the way he frowned at me, but sneakily went on: "Going pass out soon. Can stop?"
First he had to test what happens when he was no longer in contact with me: an instant return of all the negative effects. I didn't even trust myself to stand up, and let myself go to sleep again. Waste of half the day and now I'm too wired to sleep.
Monday, March 10
Sacrifice
The parents of Setari candidates give up their children to the government. There's lots of movies here about that. About families who are like soccer moms, who want the prestige of their kid being taken into the Setari program, no matter what. About others who try and hide that their kids have strong psychic abilities, who do everything they can to discourage them from excelling. I watched a sad story a few days ago, about the sister of a girl who was taken into the Setari program, who had to fight to have anyone acknowledge her as anything more than that girl's sister. She killed herself in the end.
I spent today thinking about Sixth Squad, about the guy called Ammas who died, and how his parents must have felt when they were told. Were they angry? Had they pushed him into the Setari program, or resisted his conscription? Had he been given leave to go see them recently? Did he have any sisters, or someone he was in love with? Were there things he wanted to do other than kill monsters?
The Setari aren't by any means without rights, and there's several oversight committees, but to develop their talents they're pushed in a way which hovers between strict and cruel. While they're not allowed to be sent into battle until they pass their adult competency exam, and they really are given chances to leave the Setari, there's no way they can gain truly strong talents without giving up most of their childhood. It's useful remembering that whenever I get into a grump and feel like complaining.
With the severe increase of incursions into real-space, and the repeated sightings of Setari on the main islands, there's a lot – seriously a
lot
– of speculation about what's been going on these last couple of weeks. That they've found a Pillar and shut it off is one of the many things rumoured, but nothing about so many teams coming so close to dying, and nothing about me. The Setari might have oversight committees, but KOTIS is by no means open to public curiosity. I wonder if there's an Unexpectedly Useful Strays oversight committee?
No getting drunk today, just a regular medical exam, so I swam in the morning and didn't manage too badly. I think the aether sessions might have helped my recovery along. I tried to be super-virtuous and go jogging after lunch, but there was a sports carnival on. Well, a competition with at least three hundred kids aged all the way from little six year-olds to people my own age. If I'd bothered to check the scheduling I would have seen that the 'park' was booked.
They had uniforms, too, though not black nanoliquid ones. Brown and cream, obviously designed for sports. I hastily sat down after walking in, glad that I was back from the action, but too embarrassed to walk straight back out again when all the people nearby had seen me. I always feel like such an impostor in my black uniform, because I've seen enough of the TV series about the girl trying to qualify as a Setari to know how much of a mark of achievement it is. Though I suppose it's possible most of them knew what I was anyway, and maybe that's half the reason they were looking at me. I'm not sure if the matter of useful strays has been allowed even outside the main body of the Setari.
They were so deadly serious about the competition. They did cheer, and barrack for their friends, but even the little ones scrambled over the obstacle course as if their lives depended on it. I guess it does. I wasn't in whatever channel they were using, and didn't try to find it, using the time for more flipping through Muina reports instead. I didn't turn the name display on, because some of these kids are probably going to end up like Ammas.
Tuesday, March 11
Little to contribute
I'm not getting anywhere with Isten Notra's assignment. After reading endlessly I can't think of a single thing to tell her which doesn't sound lame, so there goes my hidden ambition to point out that the dog didn't bark in the night, or the parsley hadn't sunk in the butter, or any other Sherlockian observation. I was sticking to it, though, paging through increasingly tedious reports, but more than a little relieved when Mara came and kidnapped me for dinner in the city with First Squad, who have finally been posted back to KOTIS headquarters.
It was a great outing. We went to a place which sold food pastes similar to hummus and refried beans, with different edible 'spoons' ranging from hard brown bread to the now-familiar vegetable sticks. I immediately thought of it as the "Hot and Cold Dip Shop". Lohn was being very funny, and kept saying: "Ten demerit points" whenever anyone accidentally knocked a glass. He says he's my eternal slave forever, just for the expression on Tsur Selkie's face.
"Is Setari allowed drink alcohol?" I asked, since I'd only ever seen First Squad drink water and juices.
"Not in any quantity," Alay said, tilting her glass. "Even if we weren't actively serving, the risk is too great. I've
tried
alcohol, but the rule against control-diminishing substances is only good sense."
"Tsur Selkie main guy in charge Setari training?"
"A dominant force in our development, say." Maze seemed even more tired and worn-down than usual, but he produced a wry smile at this. "I have to admit to re-watching that testing session more than a few times. So Selkie looks like a famous actor from your planet?"