The Touchstone Trilogy

by Andrea K Höst

  Sunday, April 13

  Large and loud

  This morning Fourth Squad and I went into near-space, trying to work our way down to the lowest levels of the installation through the gaps in the walls that only exist in near-space. But the aether shield exists there as well, and though we did go down to the second level through the holes the machines were maintaining, we couldn't find any way through to the lower levels.

  And the Ddura came and looked at us while we were there, which was really disconcerting. It's just like a humungous cloud of coloured light, and felt like tingly ice crystals on my face. And was tremendously happy about the Setari, who all could hear it in near-space. It Hhhaaaa'd enough that even Ruuel couldn't hide how much he wished it would shut up. The greysuits were tremendously interested in the data we brought back about the Ddura, and Fourth Squad all went and lay down for a while. The technology group is growing concerned about having so many of the field-disrupting machines operating together and is going to undo a few of them and open a single path downward in only the first of the thirds. Lots of standing about guarding them while they do that for the Setari.

  I stuck with the lying down.

  Monday, April 14

  Worship

  The third level of the installation seems to be some kind of church. Maybe. It was empty of anything resembling furniture, just had carved images of the same woman all over the walls, and mosaics all over the floors. Everywhere the same beautiful, idealised woman, with rivers flowing from her tears, and animals (pippins!) hiding in the folds of her skirts, and forests unwinding from her long flowing hair.

  Fourth Squad went very expressionless when looking through this area, and no-one is entirely certain if this is meant to represent their world mother-goddess. There are three entrances to the facility, and the faces above each entrance look different. This woman matches the face above the door for this third, so everyone is wondering, if this is Muina, who are the other two faces meant to be?

  Since the levels have been decreasing in size, they'd been expecting to clear down to the lowest level today, but they don't seem to be able to get their machine to work on the next shield. After spending the entire afternoon standing around watching them not be able to figure out how to get through, Ruuel decided his squad could do with some close-combat training to get the kinks out. This unfortunately included me, with Sonn as my partner. But though she gave me a heck of a bruise on my leg because she expected me to have some faint ability to dodge, Sonn was otherwise a methodical and practical teacher.

  Squad One joined in after a while. They haven't all magically stopped resenting Tarens, but they've decided Fourth Squad are decent enough at their jobs and not to blame for a few decades of interplanetary politics. Or, more importantly, Fourth Squad don't act like they think Kolaren Setari aren't as good as Taren Setari, and so Squad One don't constantly have their hackles up.

  That didn't mean both squads weren't interested in how they measured up to each other at close combat. Particularly Katzyen (her first name is Meral). And Fourth Squad is after all still human and took the matches seriously. Neither squad seemed definitively better. As he usually does, Ruuel was instructing rather than participating – I think he avoids competitive situations – but I wasn't at all surprised when Katzyen asked him to spar with her.

  He agreed matter-of-factly, since it was one thing to avoid competition and another to put her back up by treating her as no competition at all. I doubt he wants too many Kajals obsessing over him. In a way he got that anyway, though not in a hostile way. After countering and avoiding Katzyen's attacks for a while, as she pushed to even come near him, he ended the fight with what looked like tidy and untroubled efficiency. And told her to work on attacks from the left, since she was weaker with those.

  She's barely taken her eyes off him since. Being comprehensively bettered at hand-to-hand combat isn't my idea of a turn-on, but it obviously worked for Katzyen. I think it might have worked for Diav as well, and a couple of the greensuits who'd been watching from a distance. Unsurprisingly, Ruuel failed to show any awareness of newly-earned admiration. His squad all noticed: Glade highly amused, Mori tolerant, Sonn dismissive, Halla distant, and Par just a little pink.

  I'm getting to know them, settling into a new 'my' squad. Four months since I was rescued. Five months since I was walking home from my last exam and took a wrong turning. I'd be well into my first year of university by now – presuming I did well enough to get in. Jules' birthday soon, and then Mother's Day. The days add up.

  Tuesday, April 15

  Uncomfortable belief

  Lately I've been dreaming consistently of Ruuel: vaguer versions of the dream I had of being curled up with him asleep, which has made me look forward to heading off to bed. Last night, though, I dreamed that Fourth Squad had been transferred out overnight, and I was now assigned to Seventh Squad. No-one even told me they were gone: I just found Forel and her cronies having breakfast. And then...it was all a confused jumble, but involved more of the training I've been doing the last couple of days, except with Seventh Squad making smart-ass comments at my expense. And I was all crushed and humiliated and hurt because Fourth had gone without saying goodbye. Not Ruuel so much, since he's always so captain with me, but Mori and Glade and Par – even Halla's chatting with me a little now, and Sonn doesn't disapprove of me quite so much. And they were just gone without a word, on to their next assignment.

  I guess the dream is a reaction to working so much with Fourth these last weeks, to starting to feel like I belong with them. My subconscious was reminding me I'm not part of any squad, that I will always be a temporary assignment. That Mori and Glade probably chat to me because Ruuel told them to.

  Fortunately I'm still waking up long before most everyone else. After a shower and a morning spent writing email to Zee and Mara and Zan, I'd gained enough perspective to not look obviously depressed. And it's not as if I think they're planning to change my assignment in the near future, since Fourth is the only squad with a Sight Sight talent. It's funny how the Nuran's attempt to warn me off prompted the Tarens to drag me around Muina's ruins on the off-chance that they can figure out what he meant.

  No progress on breaking through to the next level today, so they opened up the other parts of the third level instead. It was all more murals and carvings and mosaics, but with two different people playing the role of god-like being: a man and a different woman. All a little confronting for ex-Muinans. So far as they know, the Lantarens enjoyed an unquestioned right to rule, but were not considered gods, and the Tarens are very uncomfortable with imagery which so obviously treats them as gods. Well, presuming these were meant to be Lantarens and not some gods that the Tarens don't remember anyone believing in. Maybe this is the not-very-secret base of a cult or something.

  Muinan culture must have been very unified before they had to leave. Given the similarity of Kolar, Nuri and Tare's languages, they must have all started out speaking the same way. But I guess the similarity was partly a result of having a single ruling class which could teleport and travel through wormholes and, according to Katha, were all raised and taught to control their powers at some kind of central imperial training city. Not Nurioth – a place called Kalasa, though the Tarens don't know much more than the name. Figuring out which of the ruined cities is Kalasa is another expedition priority.

  The greysuits had some heartfelt discussions about the murals. Dase and Katha, who I only occasionally get a chance to talk to now that they've been moved out of the Diodel to the tent city, were divided on the question. Dase thinks the murals must be representations of Muina and two unknown gods, or possibly even aspects of Muina. Katha thinks it's three Lantarens. Since the Lantarens aren't held in great esteem on Tare, I'm not precisely sure why it's so upsetting for her to see images showing they were incredibly narcissistic. But then, Tare and Kolar both have a fairly unified view of what a god is (or rather they don't believe in gods, they believe planets have spirits).

&n
bsp; Anya from Ninth, who has been stuck on night watch since Ninth Squad was rotated here, unfortunately has been moved to day watch. Urg. She and Katzyen really aren't benefiting by being on the same schedule, and though they're not openly glaring at each other, there's a distinct frost which seems to be extending to all the Taren Setari.

  Which is the main reason I was eating dinner with Dase and Katha.

  Wednesday, April 16

  Killing time

  Fourth Squad's gone off gate-mapping again today, since there's been no progress in getting to the next level of Creepy Undercity. I had one of my regularly scheduled medical exams in the morning, during which the medic noted I had a big bruise on my leg from training and a few random minor bruises and sore bits, but otherwise was the healthiest I'd been since the last time I nearly died. The amount of sitting-about I get through continues to benefit my school work, and I've moved on to marginally more interesting classes. Even though my spelling is pathetic, my comprehension has increased enough that I can push through most lessons super-quick. But it's still frustrating, rather like this site, which everyone thought was such a big discovery, but which hasn't given us any explanations at all.

  The day's growing cloudy and win–

  –

  Okay, pissed off now. I was sitting at the outside tables in the mess area writing when I heard someone gasp and stumble next to me, nearly dropping the drinks they were carrying. I didn't hear the crunch, but I glanced up to see a couple of greysuits looking guiltily at the ground at my thoroughly trodden-on watch.

  My face must have shown exactly what I felt – kicked in the guts – because they went from sorry to stricken, the one not holding the drinks rushing to pick up my watch and turn it over hopefully, only to have the back fall off. It was just an el cheapo digital, $20. The face was cracked and dead and I totally felt like crying.

  But I didn't. I'm proud of that in retrospect, of holding it together enough to look around me, just a log-capture in every direction. I told the greysuits that it was okay – not that they believed me for a second – and took the bits of my watch and went back to the Diodel. I had my schoolbag with me, tucked into the end of my pod, and grabbed out my long-neglected mobile. The battery had run down ages ago, and I hadn't chased up finding out how it had been charged since I'd copied the music into my interface already. Then I found one of the science greysuits and asked if she had any idea how it had been recharged.

  Her name was Elless Royara and she took my phone like it was a brand new toy, but all she had to do was look up the records of whatever they'd done before, then put it in a thing which looked like a microwave, but recharged instead of frying my mobile. It seems it wasn't really a difficult thing to do: the Tarens have gone through a few centuries of equipment becoming obsolete, and have plenty of practice working out ways to recharge older, 'museum' pieces.

  After thanking Elless I went back to the Diodel and turned on my phone. It had been so long the date and time needed to be reset, but I could at least make a rough guesstimate of what proper Sydney time would be, and of course the date hadn't changed from when I'd started writing in my diary.

  Only then did I let myself relax, and review my log.

  I almost always wear my watch underneath my uniform, unless it's a mission or some other situation where I think I might get soaked. But I often take it off when I'm writing, because the buckle presses into my wrist. I'd set it on the corner of the table, near my elbow. It wasn't in my peripheral vision, and I suppose it's within the bounds of possibility that I'd knocked it off and it had bounced onto the rocky ground next to me and got itself crushed.

  But I didn't really believe that, and a careful review of my log showed me Terel Revv from Ninth watching. Revv's one of Anya's cronies, and a telekinetic. Not proof, of course, and he was actually looking pretty unhappy.

  They probably didn't realise how important it is to me, to know what date it is on Earth. To know when I should be wishing my family happy birthday, to mark the dates of the year back home. To be able to keep track of my own age.

  I don't see that there's anything to gain from making a fuss. I'll be more careful not to give people opportunities, and certainly won't sit out in public writing my diary again, or leave my mobile exposed. I need to remember that I'm someone who total strangers will feel strongly about: whether to be grateful I unlocked their world, or to hate me for threatening their ideas of Muina's past, or whatever Anya has against me.

  The Setari needs fewer assholes.

  Pass/Fail

  Fuss happens, whether I want it to or not.

  After venting in my diary, I hung about the deserted 'passenger lounge' of the Diodel fooling with my newly revived mobile, listening to proper played-out-loud songs while it grew darker and windier outside. Then Tsur Selkie showed up with Ruuel in tow. Time for a pause in the music.

  "Do you have your damaged wrist-piece with you?" Tsur Selkie asked, without preliminaries. He and Ruuel are alike in more than looks; since he considered it obvious why he was there, he didn't think it necessary to explain.

  I was momentarily tempted to pretend I'd thrown it away, but even in the unlikely event they believed me, they could have just used Path Sight. I expect I didn't look very keen as I pulled it out of the little pocket I'd made for it, though.

  "How did you know?" I asked, dropping it into his outstretched hand.

  "The technician who crushed it was concerned about the strength of your reaction, and reported to his senior. One of the site guards on duty had you on log, including your survey of the area." Selkie wore gloves on both hands, one of them fingerless, and looked down as he touched a bare fingertip to the cracked face of my watch. He didn't take more than a moment or two, and his face didn't give anything away as he handed the watch to Ruuel, but I knew he must have seen something to confirm my suspicions because he went on to ask: "Have there been other incidents?"

  I shook my head. "It was just I didn't think I knocked it on ground." Then, because neither of them looked like he believed me, I shrugged and added: "There's squads I rather not be assigned to, but no-one tried to break my things or hurt me or anything before."

  "Which squads?" Selkie asked immediately.

  "Expect you have good idea," I said, annoyed.

  "Indulge me."

  I thought about it, then decided it was nothing I wasn't prepared to say if I were assigned to them. "Fifth and Seventh so far. Wouldn't feel safe going into Ena with either captain, so would rather not. Ninth, I didn't feel that way about." Ruuel handed back my watch and I looked down at it, remembering the sick stabbing feeling in my stomach. "They probably not realise what it mean to me."

  "Not the object but the function, yes?" Selkie said, reaching to pick up my mobile. "This device can replace it?"

  "Both have the date on Earth. That needs recharging every five or six days."

  Selkie gave it back to me, added a little nod and left.

  "What will happen now?" I asked, since Ruuel hadn't gone immediately after him.

  "Reprimand for any involved. The squad will return to Tare for review, then likely be stood down and reformed with personnel changes."

  All for knocking my watch onto the ground. I felt ill.

  Ruuel gave me an impatient look. "Don't overreact. Ninth has needed to be rebalanced since it was formed. Failing this assignment is only the trigger."

  I was confused what assignment he was talking about, until I realised he meant me. Protecting me is the Setari's primary assignment here. I expect that emotionally screwing over someone you're supposed to be looking after would count as failing.

  "They forgot the psychological aspects," I said, letting myself find it funny.

  I've no doubt Ruuel knew I was quoting him, but he didn't break out of serious captain mode. "Concentrating on a practical solution was a good response," he said. "But you continue to hesitate to communicate when you most need to. It's not only your own welfare you put at risk."

  "Today more choos
ing not to speak," I pointed out. "But generally don't see how to decide what's important."

  "Don't try. If anything prompts you to wonder if you should inform us, or ask for help, then always assume the answer is yes. The same rule should serve for speculation about these sites. Parallels with Earth's cultures could be misleading, but we cannot judge their worth if we do not hear them."

  I looked out the long view port, to the triangle of mountain and camp which I could see from that part of the ship. It wasn't raining yet, but people were getting under cover, the greensuits making sure all the tents were secure. It was true I'd been stopping myself from sharing any more guesses about the installation, not wanting to waste the historians' time.

  "What did you feel when you touched that door?" I asked. Ruuel didn't answer, and I turned back to find him even more than usually shuttered. Rather than make a point about people communicating, I continued: "Could you tell if it was Ddura which kill them?"

  "No." He paused. "Fear, panic, anger, overwhelming betrayal. A sense of something approaching, but no tangible impression of its form."

  "Was talking to Dase and Katha yesterday about how whole thing doesn't make sense to the historians," I said. "Accepted Taren history says Lantarens decided to make space travel easier, built Pillars. Pillars tore gates everywhere including between real-space and near-space, and Ionoth started killing people on Muina. Lantarens built Ddura to kill Ionoth and to try and make it easier to get to the Pillars. Something happened that made them lose control of the Ddura, and lots people start dropping dead. Before finding Arenrhon installation, technicians had decided that it was combination of aether and Ddura killing people because their 'security clearance' revoked. All historians here having big argument about how long did that all take? They all thought it was quick – was maybe around a Taren year from turning on Pillars to running away from Muina. This place fits that timeline wrong.