Laura couldn’t entirely blame them—it must be eternally frustrating to have a witness to the thing you were investigating and be told to keep away. Fortunately Isten Sydel was obedient to his no-doubt strict orders, quickly shifting to ushering them along the upper rim of the amphitheatre to a wide platform.
"This location is ideal for observing the beginning of aether generation, both at the centre of the amphitheatre and across a large swathe of the pattern-roof dwellings. We’ve established that the generation process does not commence until the sun is no longer visible, which gives us fifteen joden or more to wait."
Kaoren and Cass began to ask questions about the kind of experiments the research team were conducting. Recognising deliberate distraction, Laura linked her arms with her two older granddaughters and moved with them to a handy knee-high ledge that made a useful seat.
"I feel like I’m in one of my favourite stories," she said, squeezing their hands. "Walking through mysterious ruins, witnessing ancient marvels. I’m going to have a thousand adventures in my dreams tonight."
"Which stories?" asked Ys, ever the voracious reader.
Laura glanced at her internal ebook collection, and pointed Ys to Catseye as a starter, then added: "Although most people in stories have a rather uncomfortable time of it, while I’d prefer my story free of people shooting at me, or toothy carnivores sniffing out my path."
"Is it still an adventure if it’s safe?" Ys asked, dubious.
"I think so. We’re in an exciting new place, about to witness a marvel. What about that doesn’t feel like an adventure?"
"I don’t know marvel, Unna Laura," Sen said, wriggling onto the ledge next to Lira.
"It means amazing," Maddy said, squishing in on Lira’s other side. "Things that make you leave your mouth open and go ooh!."
"Like cakes," Lira said, in a mild shot across Sen’s bows that the younger girl didn’t acknowledge.
"Do you feel you’re having an adventure, Maddy?" Laura asked.
Maddy nodded emphatically. "And there are toothy monsters, just down there," she noted, pointing to the now deeply-shadowed rocks.
"Not monsters," Rye said, tucking himself onto the last inch of the ledge. "Those are zatrals. They eat water weed."
"I bet they’re still pretty toothy," Laura said, and led the conversation further into the safely neutral topic of local wildlife, and the not-so-local creatures that could be found outside the relatively safe zones around the platform towns.
Sue: What happened to Serious Soldier? I thought he was meeting us here.
Laura: Minor crisis at Kalasa.
Sue: Story of his life, from the sounds of it. Are the cancellations getting to you?
Laura: I figure it’s a bit like being married to a doctor or a police officer. Never quite off-duty, so last-minute rescheduling is to be expected.
Sue: Ooh, the M-word. Haven’t heard you go there before now. When are you telling Cass? Did you tell her who organised our weekend trip?
Laura: I told her a friend had invited us. Somehow, telling Cass feels like a point of no return. Not that I’m going out of my way to hide it from her either—I thought I’d be having an interesting discussion tonight on the topic of Mum Sex, but I guess not. There’s no hurry. I mightn’t be wibbling anymore, but I don’t see a reason to rush through the getting-to-know-you stage. I’ve yet to see how he behaves when annoyed, or even noticeably under stress.
Sue: Hard to push off-balance isn’t he? Maybe he’s a robot! What would you do if you discovered circuitry?
Laura: Well, I already know he’s fully functional…
Sue and Laura both burst out laughing, and only laughed harder at Cass' demand to know what was so funny. Laura hugged her daughter, their helmets knocking together.
"Things that would make you go ew," she said, giving Cass one last squeeze.
Letting go, she caught a faint shift in Kaoren’s expression, and guessed that he, at least, knew exactly where Gidds Selkie spent his nights. And, obedient to Sight Sight etiquette, he would not tell tales to Cass, but leave Laura to make her own announcements.
No doubt recognising her comprehension just as effortlessly, Kaoren offered Laura a sudden, warm smile. Entirely approving. Laura smiled back, and then said: "I think—is it starting?"
Modern Muinans did not yet know what role the moon played in the refinement of aether. But it certainly played some part, for it was only when the light of the moon fell on the complex medallion patterns etched into the whitestone roofs that aether was produced.
At first there was only the faintest haze, hanging like a summer mist above each of the rooftop circles and the much larger pattern located in the centre of the amphitheatre. This thickened, brightened, and began to drift downward: a glowing, heavier-than-air gas that then defied expectation by beginning to flow upward.
Laura forgot everything else. The fabric of another dimension was being woven before her eyes into a light that healed, and powered teleporters, and had the potential to do so much more, if only they understood how to use it.
"Magic," Sue breathed, as the amphitheatre began to swim, a bowl of light dominated by a shimmering central column. "Mana, even. If I soak myself in the stuff, do you think I could learn to be a space mage?"
"I gather you’re more likely to be unconscious," Laura said, then added to Isten Sydeclass="underline" "Can we go down there?"
They could, of course. That was the point of the visit, and the reason for the Exclusion Suits. Aether was apparently as much radiation as mist, and it was not enough to simply wear a gas mask. Only suits that generated a barrier shield would allow them to move through aether unaffected.
Laura walked into light.
After a period of straightforward amazement, she deactivated the suit and, opening the helmet, inhaled a cold, tingling mist that ran warm butter through her bones. A gentle sense of wellbeing made her sigh. Her life really had become the stuff of dreams.
But, not minded to finish the outing unconscious, she sealed the suit again and turned to see her sister closing up her own helmet, her own gaze fixed on Nick, who was walking hand-in-hand with Alyssa.
Laura: He looks happy.
Sue: He is. But he’s always been able to make the best of wherever he is.
For a moment Sue’s own naturally-upbeat attitude slipped, and an ache rose in her eyes. To throw your heart and soul into someone, and have them taken away, left a deep, abiding mark. The wound might heal, circumstances might improve, but the scar remained.
Sen had run up to Nick and Alyssa and was pretending to ice skate through the billowing light. Adorable, but Laura had learned enough of Sen by now to know that she would react to unhappiness by trying to comfort or distract. Of course, so would Sue and Laura.
"So, have you made a decision yet, Alyssa?" Sue asked, as she crossed to the pair. It had only taken a day after Alyssa’s brief skating tutorial for offers of something more permanent to roll in.
Alyssa groaned. "Is it bad that I’ve been trying not to think about it?"
"Procrastination is good," Sue said, positively. "Maybe even smart, since you might spark some kind of bidding war."
"That sounds—" Alyssa shook her head.
"I think it’s the idea that they’d go and build an entire skating rink just for Lyss to teach in. And the amount of money they’re willing to pay…" Nick shook his head slowly. "I can only do the basics and they’re still waving ridiculous amounts at me."
"The value of scarcity," Laura said. "Is it that you don’t think you’d like teaching?"
"That would probably depend on the brat-quotient in the class," Alyssa said. "But I think it’s more there seems to be an expectation that I can train people to Olympic level. I couldn’t even make the State finals."
"So tell them how far you think you can take them," Sue said, shrugging. "It’s not like anyone—except maybe Zee, who I’d believe anything of—could get to your level in less than a bunch of years. And by that time maybe they’ll really have found the deep-space route to Earth, and can import top-tier coaches."
"At which point the exorbitant salary will drop," Nick noted. "I guess we should make hay, etcetera."
"What about joining KOTIS?" Alyssa asked.
"We can do that later."
Alyssa hesitated, then nodded. "You’re right, of course. I think it’s the idea of being the one in charge that’s scaring me." She put a hand against her helmet, smiling wryly. "It’s stupid to feel like a fake, isn’t it? And at least, if we go with Pandora Shore’s offer, we’ll be covered by the school’s security and won’t have to worry about that complication."
She glanced at the upper level of the amphitheatre, and Laura managed to stop herself from following the line of her gaze, knowing that Sixth Squad would be there, similarly suited, but alert and unfailingly on duty. There were around two dozen squads, counting Kolar and Tare’s, and despite Laura’s best efforts of memory, everyone outside First, Second and Fourth Squad tended to blur into interchangeable black-clad figures.
"Even if I’d planned to do more than sample aether, that would be off-putting," Alyssa said. "I keep thinking how dull it must be for trained monster-hunters to play bodyguard."
"I expect seeing moonfall close up is a nice treat for them," Laura said. "Since trained elemental talents aren’t allowed to get drunk, they would usually have to stay well away from any free-floating aether."
"Good point."
"I wonder if untrained elemental talents have the same restrictions?" Sue said. "A Fire talent could do plenty of damage, even if they weren’t at pillar-of-flame level."
As this question was settled via Kaoren, Laura looked about for Julian, and for a moment couldn’t see him. But then she saw his outline before the central column of light and, coming closer, was surprised to see that he, too, had resealed his suit.
"Not going to demonstrate your new adult status?"
"By zonking out in front of everyone?" Julian shot his sister a disgusted glance. "That’s just what Cass thinks I’m going to do. I should moon the guy in charge just to make her feel she was right."
"The ten minutes it’d take you to get that suit off would take the fun out of it," Laura said, trying not to laugh. Sibling rivalry hadn’t gone away, no matter what else had changed.
"Maybe. But then she could tch at me for months. She’d like that."
"I know this isn’t as fun as it would be going with your friends," Laura said, offering up an apologetic smile.
"Bleh. I probably wouldn’t have gone. Too much risk that they’d find out who I am. And then it’d be all weird and stuff. Maybe I’ll go to that avatar café to meet up with them."
"I can see why you like that guild, though. The Star Claw went down neatly, and Haelin’s very happy with the new teszen she got out of it."
"Who?"
"One of Gidds' daughters. You’ll meet her this weekend."
Julian briefly showed the whites of his eyes, but he only said: "I thought you were playing with Cass' kids."
Laura was starting to suspect that the topic of Mum Sex was going to be more challenging than she expected, but they were both rescued from further attempts by Cass, who came to ask if they wanted to follow the aether down as it drained toward the teleport platform below the amphitheatre.
"Not that we’ll see much except glowy mist. And make sure you don’t actually get on the platform, or you’ll end up back in Kalasa."
"Tell us something we don’t know," Julian said.
"Wouldn’t put anything past you, brat," Cass said, and they traded amiable barbs until the sheer wonder of the moonfall caught up with them again, and the three of them stepped together into the rising pillar of light and held each other’s hands and stared through the vivid glow at the moon, in all its fractured glory.
Awkward conversations could wait. Today, they were together in wonder.