Wariness.
Subria shifted her feet. Bayard's watchfulness settled in her spine, making her look at the scientist, at Temple, with sharper eyes.
'No hug?' The scientist spread his hands, teeth gleaming.
Bayard crossed her arms. 'Just get on with it.'
'Of course, of course.' Temple turned, his hands coming together, not quite rubbing with glee. His gaze caught Subria's, seemed to pick her out of the recruits and held on. Then again, he might have seen Erebos wrapped around her neck.
Nevertheless, Temple's grin stretched to its original cheek-splitting size, and he gestured them to move towards the big lift doors at the back. Subria had the notion that Doctor Temple looked at her deliberately, had sought her out of the crowd. The thought made her shudder, and for a second it was as if a worm slid out of Temple's eyes and into her soul. A prayer was whispering from her lips, her hand starting to make a cross over her chest, before she clenched her fist and chided herself for letting her imagination take hold.
Erberos shifted, the soft warmth of his tail tightening around her biceps.
Temple's attention turned away, and she knew that he hadn't seen Erberos before, that the 'adder had only now lifted his head out of the concealment of her hair, by the alarm that stole across the doctor's features. It was there and then gone, replaced by a considering look that slithered through her insides.
'Follow me, then.' Temple gestured behind him, and was it her imagination, or did he speak directly to her? 'Into the bowels of the Farm we go.'
A shiver ran down Subria's spine.
The lift opened, and for several shocked seconds, Subria's brain struggled to believe the evidence of her eyes. A forest spread out before them, a dozen paces of pale steelcrete separating the lift from a swarth of grass so green it hurt her eyes. The grass disappeared into a line of trees, thin trunks and spindly branches reaching towards a blue sky.
Her classmates brushed past her, out onto the half-moon of steelcrete, murmurs of wonder rippling between them. She followed them out and turned, taking in the lift, standing all on its own amidst the intense green, following it up and up and up until it disappeared into the sky, blue studded with fluffy clouds.
She should be panicking; the thought was clear as a bell. She should be holding her breath and running for the safety of the lift before the spore that saturated Jørn's lower atmosphere infested her lungs.
Take a beat. Her dad's words rang in her memory.
It was probably already too late, another, sane part of her pointed out. Panic would make her breathe harder, draw more toxin in, and besides… Instructor Bayard wasn't wearing an enviromask.
Her gazed sharpened on a hint of static rippling through the perfect clouds.
The holograms were good, really good, she thought as she brought her attention back down. It would have been better if they'd muted the colours and tweaked the enviros to produce a breeze, added the sweet scent of grass and the dustier one of wet soil. If they had, she'd have doubted her sanity, been reaching for an enviromask, or, like Bank, dashing for the lift, before she got Pollen poisoning.
Instructor Bayard stepped aside as Bank hit the lift, frantically stabbing the controls, terror in the frantic looks over his shoulder.
'Come on!' He screamed the words, and Subria wondered if it was at his classmates or the lift's closed doors. They opened, and he dashed inside, jabbing at the controls there. 'Come on,' he yelled again. 'Before we all get Pollen poisoning!'
'Uh.' Canavan stepped forward, his hand outstretched and face twisted in an expression that was alarmed but sheepish at the same time, as if he too had experienced the moment of panic that gripped Bank in its talons. 'Bank, it's just a—'
Instructor Bayard held up a hand, forestalling him, and glanced around the set of the recruits. 'Does anyone wish to join Recruit Bank?' No one moved.
Bank stopped jabbing at the control pad, and his eyes widened to saucers in his pale face, his mouth dropping open, and Subria guessed logic was finally taking over from the blind rush of adrenalin.
He started to step out of the lift, but Instructor Bayard pushed him back.
'That's a fail, Mr Bank. See you at the shuttle.'
'But—'
The doors closed.
Subria stared at them, at the way they reflected the holographic forest, capturing it under the milk-white skin of the plascrete and bouncing the scene back.
That had been… Unexpected. Strange. Worthy of consideration. She stroked Erebos's tail, wrapped around her bicep.
Something wasn't right here, and it was more than Doctor Temple's ring.
Bayard crossed her arms. 'Temple, I believe you can dispense with the… ' Her mouth twisted with distaste as she gestured at the forest.
The doctor beamed. 'Yes, of course.' A click of his fingers, the huge ring encasing his index finger flashing. 'Time to get to the main show.'
The forest vanished, and the urge to duck hit Subria so hard, her hands were halfway over her head before she checked the movement.
Embarrassment surged up her cheeks, and she scowled, even as she darted looks at her classmates to check if any of them noticed her nerves.
A sheepish glance from a half-crouched Canavan told her she hadn't been the only one, while a smirk from Tyvian had her cheeks flaming brighter and her scowl deepening.
She straightened, pulling the ends of her jacket down and lifting her chin.
Where there had been trees and sky, there were now off-white walls and a ceiling that stretched high overhead. But none of that was what captured her attention. No, that was all for the twelve huge striders waiting behind the doctor.
Five different species of the riding companions waited next to their handlers. The pea-dragon was the smallest, with its long graceful neck and sleek, scaled body, half-covered with brilliant plumage.
