I wrinkled my nose – it really wasn't something which is easy to put into words – then said: "All of the whitestone has lights in it. Bands of squiggles which branch out – a bit like veins. Dim and really indistinct most of the time, but when anyone goes near it, it reacts and gets brighter. Even these fallen bits." I glanced at the chunks of broken bridge and fountain I'd been resting against. "It reacts with a different colour to me. Twice a pulse of light went out from the circular building, washing over whole city, and everywhere where there are people, it sends a little pulse back. Even these broken bits, for all they don't seem connected."
Islen Tezart, sounding wholly delighted, asked: "Do you mean these lights are made up of symbols? Writing?"
"Not really. Will try and draw." Which I did, using one of the interface drawing applications, which I'm even worse at using than a mouse-operated thing. It looked like a four year-old had tried to draw a flock of boomerangs and pieces of string flying south for the winter. "Not even close," I said apologetically.
"Visual," said Ruuel, streaming what he was seeing to us. The building was one big empty room with a domed ceiling, an empty walkway/border around the edges, and a huge and utterly gorgeous mosaic covering the rest of the floor. Similar imagery to the entrance to Kalasa, it was all flowers and flowing branches, stylised animals and lakes and streams. A picture of the world.
Ruuel began switching through Sights. First the room went all shadowy, and I thought I saw a hint of movement, and then it was like the mosaic became three-dimensional, lifting into a hemisphere of floral shapes and slinking, flitting, drowsing animals. And then flattened down again, and became very like what I'd been seeing: streaming particles of light, particularly centring on two circular areas in the mosaic, one faded yellow and one greyish.
"Considerably more than decorative," Ruuel said. "Function–" He paused, and I suspected he and Halla were talking over their impressions out of channel. Even though he has more Sights than Halla, Ruuel always consults with her on her impressions for things like this. I'm not sure if it's because she's stronger with Place Sight, or if the talent is just so variable that it's like fitting together fragmentary puzzle pieces in hopes of making a picture. "The most distinct impression is one of a place of annunciation, of being judged."
There was a exceptionally boring period following this where bunches of the Setari and greysuits yakked at each other and installed machines and made cautious attempts to work out what the mosaic was for and how to make it react. I stayed where I was, with Lohn and Mara for company, and worked on my Muinan animals project, which was something I could chat to them about. But eventually everyone gave in and decided to poke Devlin at the mosaic to see what happened. They're much less keen to use me for testing since my first excursion to Kalasa, but it's easy to spot the situations where it's going to happen.
The mosaic did seem to react to me, when they plunked me on the yellow circle. The machines picked up a surge in power. But then there was another short age of faffing around, trying to get me to make something, anything, happen. Lots of bright ideas from the greysuits, mostly based around doing the same thing I'd done with the platforms – except theoretically to a higher security level. None of that seemed even remotely inclined to work.
"You don't have any suggestions of your own, Caszandra?" Isten Notra, observing over the interface, asked.
"Trial by combat?" I asked, looking very doubtfully at Ruuel, who had been patiently standing on the other circle for what seemed an eternity. He looked down, which I suspect was to hide how ludicrous he found
that
idea. I sighed. "Don't see why trying to start with me. If judging, shouldn't other person be proving themselves worthy? Kalasa already seems to know what is my place in this world."
I was just being frustrated, but Ruuel looked up, eyes widening. "Phrase that as a question," he said – ordered, it was very much an imperative command.
It took me a moment, since I had already been asking a question. But then I twigged, and said: "What would you be to Muina?"
He didn't answer out loud, but dropped his gaze back to the mosaic, and then closed them, going very still. Everyone else in the room shut up, almost seeming to hold their breath. I've no idea what he was thinking, what he told Kalasa he wanted to be, but I guess it approved. Just for a moment there, I swear the mosaic shifted. I couldn't spot the difference, but I had to wonder if another tiny tile had been added.
After that everyone got really cheerful. Particularly me when a bit of experimentation showed that Kalasa now responded to Ruuel much as it does me: he could activate the platforms and the mosaic. And Maze then Mara then Islen Tezart quickly followed suit. That's the best news I've had for ages. No more playing taxi or being poked at stuff for me. Not everyone 'passes' though – which naturally upsets those who don't – particularly Islen Duffen, who looked like she'd been slapped. I did notice, from the few who failed before I was taken back to Pandora, that it mainly seems to be people who aren't comfortable with Muina itself – being under so much sky, and with sticky plants and bugs and animals all uncontrolled and in every direction. KOTIS has been having to return a reasonable percentage of staff back to Tare just because they can't cope with Muina.
No-one seems to want to talk about what being judged feels like, either. It seems it's a bit more involved than making some kind of life goals statement. None of the Setari have failed so far, but given the squads involved, I'm not surprised. I was glad all the Kolaren Setari managed. They've stopped looking quite so distracted since the news brought word that matters had improved on Kolar, but today was the first time Shaf has smiled at me since his government tried to buy me.
All I've got scheduled is a morning medical appointment tomorrow. I'm willing to bet they're going to send me back to Tare again.
Friday, June 27
Ice
Zan and Lenton were my post-breakfast babysitters. They'd already been to Kalasa earlier that morning and passed, and so were subdued and thoughtful – I couldn't tell if it was mainly because it was their first time in Kalasa, or if it was the test. The most I could get anyone to describe what it's like was Zee, who told me it left her feeling very exposed, like something very large had opened her up and taken a look inside.
Given the whole idea of the planet as a living entity, I can see why this disconcerts them all so much. They're not sure if what's judging them is the planet, or just some device of the Lantarens. I'd love to know why I didn't have to be judged, but I'm glad not to have to try. It would be mortifying to fail.
My medical appointment was over by mid-morning, and Zan told me she had permission for us to go outside Pandora, which I thought a nice surprise. I immediately suggested we go to see whether the otters were still there – I'm pretty sure otters don't move about to avoid Winter.
As we whizzed effortlessly along the lakeshore I was thinking about those first two weeks on Muina, and all that walking. Trying to picture having to do it in my school uniform in snow. Even in the enhanced Setari uniform and my coat and beanie, flying through the chill made me uncomfortably aware of how little chance I would have had. And then I noticed that we'd flown right past the otter stream. I looked over at Zan in confusion and she smiled (so rare for her to smile) and nodded at the ground.
Six squads of Setari make for a lot of people. Against a huge empty field of snow their black uniforms made them look like a flock of crows, with Squad One's green and black a distinct sub-group. Zan set us down in the centre, where the captains were all clustered together with their squads just a little back.
I stared from Zan to Maze, who said: "You wanted an epic fight with snow?"
It's not often that they do something which so totally surprises me. I said "Really?" on a note of disbelief, then blushed, and looked about at them all being amused at me, then back at Maze. And blushed more and said: "Thank you," and tried not to embarrass myself by bursting into tears.
He gave me one of those super-spectacular smiles. "We've been trying to work out what sort of rules would apply. Is there a standard for these games?"
I seriously doubted that standing in the middle of the field shrieking with laughter and madly hurling handfuls of snow at each other would work for Setari. "Not really," I said. Thinking of Dad's paintball games I added: "Could each mark out a base and do rule that if you get hit, you can't participate until next round, and have to wait in team who hits you base until no-one left. Or do a capture the flag where the team in custody of the flag at the end of limit wins. In that, if you get hit you have to return to base, but then can join back in straight away."
"Either of those would work," Maze said, glancing at Grif. "Perhaps one capture in current squads, and then a second round on an individual points basis?"
"What will we use as a flag?" Grif asked.
"Isn't that obvious?" Nils, looking highly amused, patted me on the head. "A flag which can fight back."
"I just throw snowballs at random people?" I asked.
"At all of us. If you manage to hit any of the squad trying to capture you before they get into grabbing distance, they'll all have to go back to their base. And any squad who wants to capture you has to hit you with a ball of snow. Since I'm sure you won't think this half as entertaining if we scrupulously avoid so much as mussing your hair." He plucked off my beanie and pulled it on, dark curls framing his face. It really suited him – totally smexy. "When you're captured, you can aim at attacking squads, but not your current captors."
Something which encouraged the Setari to not baby me seemed a good idea, and the captains quickly settled the final details. Combat Sight and Speed were allowed because they're practically impossible not to use, but no other talents except Levitation or Telekinesis for carrying the flag. The interface could be used for communication which everyone would hear, but not for showing the location of enemies. Rather than a time limit, winning meant getting me back to their base without losing me. Maze quietly told me not to overtax my legs, then brought everyone into one general channel, and airlifted me into the middle of a vast white expanse. And, after double-checking that I was good to go, left me there.
I was at the crest of a small hill, with only a leafless tree and clumps which I realised were nearly buried snow-covered bushes for company. It was, though of course didn't tell any of the Setari, totally not what I'd meant by an epic snowball fight. I'd been picturing a repeat of a family trip, just with First Squad: a shambolic and silly battle where everyone got covered in snow and there was no real point to it all. But I was really touched that they'd go so far for me, and had managed to coordinate all the squads on Muina – presumably they think it's safe to leave the construction on Kalasa with just greensuits on guard. And I was really surprised Ruuel was willing to participate, since he stays away from competitive stuff, but I guess he'd consider it good for his squad's morale. I'd avoided looking particularly at him, but a quick review of my log showed him being the only captain not smiling at my reaction, just his usual detached and alert mode.
Bet he wanted his squad to win, though.
I decided I'd be happy if I could hit someone, anyone, before being captured. While the squads worked out equidistant locations for their bases, and marked the boundaries, I debated hiding versus making a stand and decided I might as well avoid stressing out my legs. We were a bit higher than Pandora, and the snow was deeper. I'd sunk straight past my knees and by the time I'd finished scrunching out a little bunker and building up the walls, it was waist high. I sat down so I wouldn't be visible and made a pile of snowballs while listening to the chatter over the interface.
They weren't being all deadly serious, fortunately. Lohn and Nils kept up a patter of shit-talk aimed at each other, and anyone who was hit usually said something on the lines of 'good shot', or laughed or groaned. Running in snow was also proving a new challenge. It was a while before anyone got anywhere near me – so far as I can tell everyone first tried to ambush the squad nearest to them, before making their way toward me. I certainly had a nice pile of snowballs by the time anyone came close.
Three teams came within range of my senses at almost the same time (I was shamelessly using my own Sight). Second Squad, Squad One and Third Squad. They were all approaching from different directions, but Squad One and Third Squad attempted to cut each other off, giving Second a chance to rush my fort.
They were coming in a tight bunch, which was a big mistake. I waited till they were almost on me then, lying relaxed in my bunker, simply lobbed as many snowballs as possible in a high arc into the middle of them. Combat Sight saved some, but the groans and laughter prompted me to pop my head up to survey the damage – Nils and Keer Charal brushing snow off and the whole squad having to return back to base. Nils gave me back my beanie as a prize, which nearly distracted me from Third Squad and Squad One, who both decided to take opportunistic shots. I fell over my pile of snowballs trying to avoid the shots, and then dissolved into giggles when Nils took one of them in the face.
"Nils dodge worse than I do," I said, trying to control my laughter enough to lob snowballs in something like the right direction for Third Squad and Squad One.
"Depends who's aiming," he said with a super-sexy grin, wiping snow out of his eyes before following his squad back down the slope.
Third Squad and Squad One managed to destroy each other, so that by the time I poked my head out of my fort, only Eeli was left to fight. Eeli's better at dodging than me, and her smile was at nuclear hyper-wattage for the rest of the day after making first capture.