"Your interface will be reduced to minimal function during testing," he said in text, and immediately cut it back so I couldn't do anything at all. Then I was levitated off my feet and moved. It was hugely disconcerting. I'd come to expect brevity from Ruuel, but this made me feel way too powerless, especially when I wasn't put down, but kept floating in the air. All I could see was blackness, and a square text box floating in front of me which said: "Test 1" and the date.
It changed to: "You will be given a series of containers. Attempt to divine the contents of each container. If you cannot make a clear identification of the content of the container, use the first word or image which came to mind when you touched the container. Responses are to be verbal. Signal that you understand."
"...understood," I said, making an effort not to show I was annoyed. After all, sensory deprivation was logical in the context. I lifted my hands up obligingly, and something cool and round dropped in them: it felt like a glass ball, about softball size.
The first word which came into my head was softball, which is not a kind of ball I've seen on Tare and obviously wrong and related more to the container than the contents. I was shuffling through all the random other words which came after that when it occurred to me that I didn't feel like I was with Ruuel. Now, I feel a lot of different things when I'm with Ruuel – right then I was pissed at him, with a touch of fretting about embarrassing myself and lowering his opinion of me – but there's simply a level of him being present which I'm always very aware of. Or absent, as when I wake up each morning knowing he's not there. Today he was standing beside me, and I'd put the blindfold on, and been lifted up, and after that I hadn't really felt like I was with him. I could tell that I was moving; even a blindfold and earplugs can't disguise the sense of being moved, of travelling maybe thirty or fifty metres. I'd assumed it was Ruuel levitating me, but it was obviously someone else.
It's a good thing those containers weren't fragile because I squeezed that first one violently. I felt like the butt of a practical joke, with everyone laughing at me secretly and waiting for me to twig. But after a few seconds of silent temper I turned my attention to who it was if it wasn't Ruuel. I could sort of tell where they were, a fact that I found very interesting, and which went a long way toward distracting me from being angry. Not within reach, and a little below me – I guess I was floating higher in the air than I'd expected. And it was Par, felt like Par. There didn't seem to be anyone really close, but the more I concentrated on Par, the more I had the impression that there were people at a distance, but out of reach like a word you know you know but can't quite remember.
It had been a long time since I'd been given the container. I made a genuine effort to try to divine what was inside, but couldn't tell if it was working or not. I didn't have any kind of certainty, nothing like knowing Ruuel wasn't there.
Finally I gave up and said: "Is test to try and guess object, or to see if I can tell that Auron has kidnapped me?"
"Both observations are relevant. Continue the container test."
I hadn't recovered from being annoyed, so decided to be very literal in following instructions and said: "Softball," and held it out.
There was a slight pause, then the container lifted out of my hands and another one the same size and shape replaced it.
I kept my responses strictly to English after that. I don't think in Taren, after all, and if they wanted the first word that came into my head they were going to get it. I'm not sure how much Symbol Sight would assist in interpreting my answers: things like "Daffodil" or "McDonalds" or "Stefani". I did censor myself a few times, when I went through a spate of sex terms which there was no way I was going to risk to Symbol Sight or possibly being asked to translate it later. Most of my answers I knew had to be wrong, because there was no way an elephant would fit in a globe the size of a softball.
After a couple of dozen globes, the interface switched to saying: "Test 2", then: "Describe your surroundings, including all objects and persons."
I thought it over. I expected I was in Sight Training Room 5, but I hadn't actually seen it. Although it was probably as bland and white-walled as practically everywhere in KOTIS, saying that would be an assumption. The only thing I was really sure of was people.
"Auron is down there," I said, moving an open-palmed hand toward him. "There are four – five? – people over there." I indicated what was probably the direction of the corridor, but I wasn't entirely certain about that. "One person over there?" I pointed to my right, feeling a bit uncertain. Whoever it was was moving about. "Everything else just guess."
After a moment, the floor came back below my feet – Par had lowered me to the ground. I managed not to stagger and was feeling pleased about that, then had another message: "Test 3. Identify and track the location of room occupants."
Par began to move around the room and I pointed to him as he did. If he went too fast I would lose track of him, and if he kept moving quickly I'd lose him altogether and only know that he was near. Then one of the group of five came closer and turned out to be Glade. He and Par stood together a moment, then split up, but I had no trouble telling them apart so long as they didn't move too quickly.
A third person came in. I could track them just as distinctly, but didn't know who it was. The fourth person, I almost missed. It was a lot harder to tell she was there, but I eventually recognised her as Ista Chemie.
All this time I'd been working on a headache, which grew steadily worse until it was at Ddura-level pounding, and I was thoroughly relieved when the next message was: "Test session concluded." I straight away lifted my hands to my head, trying to figure out how to take the blindfold off, but the nanocloth was smooth and unresponsive to my touch, then abruptly melted back into a single strip. Not designed to be removed by the wearer, which made me like it even less. My interface functions were restored a moment later.
The person I hadn't been able to identify was a Kalrani, someone I hadn't met. I could make that much out while squinting through my headache and sudden exposure to light. Ruuel said in text over the interface: "Report to medical. If they clear you, practice sensing your surroundings before the next session, but do not push yourself."
Par very kindly levitated me down to the medical section, and I only had to wait through the shortest of scans before Ista Chemie gave me something for my headache. I fell asleep there, but didn't dream, and Zee came and collected me for a quiet dinner in her quarters. I told her I felt even sorrier for the Kalrani and Setari if they had to keep giving themselves headaches when they were only little kids. She said the first few times are usually the worst – it sounds like it works a bit like having your ears pierced – when you start using talents actively, pushing them beyond a 'passive' state, it opens pathways, but repetition strengthens rather than continuing to hurt.
I had a long bubble bath after dinner, and let the water get cold thinking about myself. Not the weirdness of being this touchstone-psychic-mysterious whatever. To tell the truth, I think staying on Muina turned me psychic. Maybe it's something in the pears. I sure as hell couldn't do any of this before I got stuck there. No, during my bath I was trying to remember if I used to hate surprises. I don't think I did. No-one's keen on unpleasant stuff being sprung on them, but these days I just hate it if anyone does something without warning me. Really hate it.
It's hard to believe Ruuel had forgotten the psychological aspects. He's far too sharp to not understand that blinding me and then switching places with Par would leave me confused and vulnerable. I'm sure it helped with the test, pushing me into a more sensitive state, and really it was logical and not something I should make a fuss over. But it made me so angry.
I'm telling myself it's a good thing, though. I'm an assignment to Ruuel, and I had an unhealthy level of faith in him. Maybe over the next week he'll keep pissing me off, and I'll end up thinking him on par with that ass Kajal.
Well, okay, that's not very likely. But I don't even want to listen to him telling me to think of otters now, and I would never have guessed that I'd feel that way.
Monday, June 2
Second in Command
So last night I dreamed I was arguing with Ruuel. He was being very cold and cutting, saying things about how worthless my trust is if it takes such a small thing to shatter it. I was saying that trusting someone was like being a little bit pregnant. You either are or you aren't. You either trust or you don't.
It wasn't as bad as the tentacle nightmare. I kept waking up, instead of being unable to, and was just unhappy rather than nearly having a heart attack, but I could do without having dreams like that. When I woke the last time I had an email from Selkie with the draft report from yesterday's session linked and instructions to fill in translations of what I'd been saying for my object identification attempts. I'm not entirely sure if this means it was Selkie conducting the testing session, or if he was just reviewing the report, but how much difference would it make if Ruuel was playing tricks on me under orders? It doesn't make me feel any better about it. I filled in the report results, unsurprised to discover that I'd been wrong for every single one of them. Reading the rest of the report didn't tell me anything I hadn't already concluded about my ability to know who is near me, but I did discover that part of the test had involved Glade and Par feinting blows at me to see if I reacted to that. I'm going to end up not wanting to be around all of Fourth Squad at this rate.
I was feeling very down and tired-eyed when I went for my first session of weapons training. The greensuit in charge of my training, Drake, looked like a poster-boy drill sergeant: fortyish, world-weary, no-nonsense. I started out half-expecting him to yell at me, but he was carefully correct and just a trifle indulgent – I bet he'd be the type of guy who calls women "Little Lady" back on Earth. The weapon he was training me with today was some kind of laser pistol, and I was hopeless with it. It's got to be the easiest gun in the world to use, but while I was okay (not dreadfully accurate, but okay) with shooting big, unmoving targets, as soon as he started me on moving or pop-up targets (all generated by the interface), I rarely hit anything. I've never had very good aim with ball sports and the like. Plus – maybe it's an Australian thing – but it just felt wrong having a gun. I've never even touched one before, and I'm too convinced I'll accidentally shoot someone.
After seeing how useless I am, Drake booked me in for more practice sessions, but since I don't think he expected me to be any good at it in the first place, he was all very relaxed about it. There's some other weapon he has to train me in as well called a 'pulse', which is what we'll focus on in the next training session. I guess all I can do about this is practice a lot.
I had a relatively light exercise session with Mara after lunch, weights and resistance. The gym's one of the few places you see Setari out of uniform – well, in a 'training' uniform which is basically shorts and a Singlet. They also use a light-weight outfit when doing combat training which doesn't involve weapons. There were quite a few people in the gym today, and I found it very distracting that they weren't dressed in form-fitting black. None of the Setari are body-builder muscular – they work out for strength but not mass and I gather too much muscle impedes agility. Mara could tell I was down, I think, but since I like being with her I cheered up a bit, and then Lohn came and joined us and he can always make me smile so it was an okay afternoon.
I ended up going to the Sights training area early, mainly because I think if I hadn't I would have given in to the temptation to wear one of my lab rat shirts. I was still annoyed and distrustful, but I didn't want to make a big fuss over what everyone else probably thought was nothing. Nor did I want to start a fight with Ruuel, or spend my time sulking or having tantrums. At the same time, I didn't want to be made to feel like that again, and I figured I'd have a better chance of avoiding it if I took a proactive, rational approach. The session was booked for Room 6 this time, a smaller room with a few brown square things scattered randomly about which I decided were some kind of blockish, backless chair. I sat cross-legged on one, listening to music until he showed up, also very early.
As soon as he came in I said: "If have to be blindfolded, can I have one I can take off myself? Really didn't like that thing yesterday."
"There's no need," he said. "This session is training, not testing."
I was relieved, but couldn't quite relax, and tried not to look obviously nervous as he made one of the squares slide across so it was opposite mine. He sat, one foot hooked under the opposite knee, relaxed like someone who'd never even thought about being in a bad mood.
"These are visualisation exercises," he said. "They are designed for attempting to pre-select which dreams you have, rather than changing the course of a dream you wish to escape. There are techniques for that, but these are a first step. You succeeded with the otters?"
I nodded, and he went on to explain the different things you could think when you were trying to get to sleep. It was a bit like counting sheep, really. Think of the details of a safe place. Construct something you liked, piece by piece. Follow a familiar routine. Do something which step-by-step focuses your mind on a particular thing, so that other things, like tentacles, don't slip in.
As I'd expected, Ruuel was a good teacher, giving examples of each of the techniques in a clear and really quite evocative way. He told me to try a different one each night, and use the most effective ones, even when I hadn't been stressed or suffering from nightmares. An entirely non-annoying session but, even though he did nothing but talk, I stayed tense and wary the entire time, not able to convince myself that there wouldn't be some test or trick, and struggling not to dwell too much on how I felt yesterday.