Touchstone 1 - Stray

supports and from Muina. But they immediately lost control of the Ddura, and the situation on Muina began spiralling into chaos: whole villages and cities of people inexplicably dropping dead, and more and more Ionoth coming through and eating people.
    All the Lantarens on Muina had a big ‘teleconference’ (hehe!) and decided they had to leave Muina. They couldn’t all manage to go to the same place, and it doesn’t sound like they wanted to either. There were some who stayed behind on Muina, but no-one’s ever found any trace of them, so they were probably killed.
    If you stay too long on Muina, something comes and eats you, or you drop dead. I’m glad I didn’t know all this while I was busy boiling wool.
    Stepping it up
    The medics have decided I’m more or less recovered, so Zan says we’ll have two sessions of training tomorrow. So funny to be excited about exercising. I wonder if the Setari have to earn TV privileges as well.
    I asked Zan what the Ena looked like, and she said that it’s incredibly varied, but that the nearest space looked just like Tare, except without the people. It’s a shadow of this world. Now that’s freaky.

February
    Friday, February 1
    Frabjous
    This morning was routine. Though my lessons with Zan are getting a bit more complex, it’s still repeating a set of movements over and over again.
    But Zan didn’t deliver me back to my room afterwards. Instead we went to lunch in a smallish canteen. It seems to be a Setari-specific place, though I think the kitchen handles more than just this one room.
    It’s funny how your aspirations change after being locked in a room for – how long has it been? – nearly a month since Nenna was hurt. It makes small things like eating in a very plain canteen so exciting. Being able to pick from a couple of options for my meal instead of having food delivered by a pinksuit under guard made me feel almost human again. The illusion of choice.
    Of course anything, even sitting in a room reliving kindergarten, is better than starving and alone. Annoying as this place can be, I’m still glad to have been rescued.
    The other Setari in the room weren’t anyone I particularly recognised, though I guess they’d all been there for the demonstrate-what-the-stray-can-do session. They pretended not to look at me, and didn’t bother us. It’s hard to know what they’d think of me – a walking instant power-up that they’ve been told to stay away from.
    After lunch, I was expecting more ‘martial arts’ practice, but instead we went down to a different changing room and Zan sent me into one of the shower rooms and told me to braid my hair up and strip and get into the shower. And when I did, wondering what was going on, black goop sprayed out of the walls at me and that was enough to make me jump back and want out. And then it started wriggling . I sometimes forget that these people use nanotechnology. I ended up with a light swimsuit, sturdier than those I’m used to, and going all the way to the knees and elbows. Thinner than the Setari uniform, but I’m starting to understand how Zan gets changed so quickly.
    After I’d recovered from my minor heart attack, we went into the next room and it was this HUGE pool. A big square, maybe forty by forty metres, but incredibly deep, with this underwater obstacle course, all tunnels and circles and things. I couldn’t even see the bottom.
    “This is something I need practice in, as well,” Zan said, watching my disbelieving expression. “The requirement for water manoeuvres only came in two years ago, when some of the nearest spaces became flooded. The medics recommended this to increase your overall fitness, and it will prepare you in case they do decide to use you in the Ena.”
    “Not that good at holding breath,” I said, extremely dubiously. I figured I could make the top couple of tunnels and tubes, and that would be it.
    “There’s breathers for the deep work. First will be surface swimming. Are you taught swimming at all on your world?”
    I gave her a funny look, then dived in and swam across the pool and back. I was a little more out of breath than I expected when I reached her, due to my various medical dramas. But I love swimming. I’m not Ian Thorpe, but water sports are one of the things I’ve always been reasonably good at.
    “If ever go my world,” I told her, treading water. “Teach you how to surf.”
    I’m a better swimmer than Zan is. And they don’t use the