Tanning Booth, Then

"Chloe? Chloe He? It's time to wake up!"

"Huh?"

"Your tanning session is over," said the calm voice of the helpful carer.

I remembered hearing that voice recently. When was that? When was now? My head was still full of symbolic words and structures of controlled logic. But I was flesh, not machine. Flesh that needed artifical sunlight. I'd heared that voice when I I entered the tanning salon. "Oh! Sorry, I must have drifted off. I do that a lot. I'm a regular drifter. Sorry."

"No need to apologise. The tanning lamps shut off automatically and we don't need this booth quite yet, but I expect you have places to be," the carer said. Ra was somewhere outside my booth, sitting at a desk and speaking to me remotely by magical means. It was similar to the helmet ventrils that had allowed Skids and me to keep in touch while riding a noisy spinnerbike. I now had a basic understanding of the principles by which the magic achieved that... and that wasn't at all relevant.

"Right, I'll be right out. I better get this oil off before I drift off again." I toweled myself clean, retrieved my belongings from a drawer under the tanning bench, dressed, and quickly exited the booth.

"I'd ask you if you had a pleasant stay, but that seems evident," the carer said with a grin. Ra's nametag read 'Lania'.

"It was actually rather nice," I said genuinely. "I seem to be able to drift off almost anywhere. "At this rate, people ought to start calling me 'Drift'." That was meant as a joke, but as soon as the words left my mouth, I realised how well it worked. "Actually, please do that. I've been looking for a better name for a while now, and Drift feels right."

"Drift it is. It's been good doing business with you, Drift He."

The 'He' still grated, but I was definitely a hexmage so I was stuck with it for as long as I was among mages. "Maybe I'll see you next week. I'd better go and... um..." I couldn't actually remember what I was meant to do next, so I fumbled in my bag and checked my scryer. "Odd. What's this?"

My scryer was displaying the contents of a hex. Normally that would not be surprising, but I knew I had been reading about chroma rules before putting it away. "This isn't as I left it," I said to Lania who had given me an inquiring look.

"No one's so much as touched your booth since you arrived," ra replied with an unconcerned shrug.

"Thanks," I said. "I probably simply forgot something."

I was correct.

Now, Chroma Training Field

Two weeks had passed since our win. Over that time, our readiness had increased, but not as fast as the feeling of impending doom. Demonstration Domination had dominated Ganayanda's final match, and Daramoolen's History Makers were also in the running to make history out of us. Yiwarra's match was last, and was currently in progress. Sky Metal were the team favoured to win. Thall faced Boosted Uplink, Cutthroat Channel, Dead Drop, Splash Zone and Ultraviolet Violence. The progress of the match was meeting expectations, as Sky Metal had both an eight point lead and had retained a perfectly defended goal. In a couple more weeks, thall could very likely be doing the same thing to us.

We were almost two hours into a training session. As usual it started out with a health checkup and a warmup, followed by sprints and reps of various common elements of plays. That was followed by activities of a more individual nature, punctuated by brief bouts of group drills. Punnt and Skids practiced kicks, throws and launches, alternating between focus on power and precision. Scaff and I went over our weapons and armour, performing maintenance and minor tune-ups. Broth observed everyone while taking careful notes of everything. Swipe made gestures at a 'scrying pool', which was a large display window functioning like a smarter sign board. In response to she's movements, it moved bright symbols and connected them with dashed or solid lines, representing potential plays we or our opponents might make.

A second scrying pool stood beside the first, displaying the match in progress. Swipe had boosted the loudness of the live commentary as much as possible as an intentional distraction. We were all doing our best to concentrate on our tasks while still being aware of the flow and progress of the game. We were all doing well, except for Skids.

An incoherent yell told us that Skids had missed another goal shot. While my aim-assist hex was highly effective, we all agreed with Swipe that unassisted accuracy was vital. Equipment and hexes were important but should not be relied upon totally. Even knowing that, Skids' patience was wearing thin. I wanted to say something to calm sa down, but held my tongue. We still weren't really talking after the penalty shot incident.

"...the inwards richochet play, but Uplink retain territory control and exert pressure on Splash. Splash's fluid reserves are runing dry but Fisho has slipped into DemDom ranks for the setup of a side door move. Cuthroat have fallen back to position B to parry a ceiling thrust from DemDom..." I had noticed that the other hives' commentators were more technical than Wonambi's, and Yiwarra's were following that trend. We were noticably less strategic, though Swipe was trying to change that.

"How certain are you that no one's spying on your work?" Scaff asked me, pointing at Liberty.

"Good question," I said. "Actually, I'm expecting it. No one is using Liberty to spy on our conversations or to watch our training — that would be cause for very serious sanctions against everyone involved — but all movement data and hex content is up for grabs. That's why I've switched to using Liberty to carry my scryer, and using the scryer to infiltrate enemy mascots and other hexed gear, instead of using Liberty directly. Then I can configure my scryer not to accept any aethermagical signals from Liberty in case it gets subverted."

"I see two problems with that," Scaff said.

I glanced over to the game, which appeared to be at a standoff. "Oh?"

"Since everyone else can also ignore aethermagical signals from your scryer, you'd need to gain physical access like Liberty did against the octoling."

None of that was news to me. "Yeah, by plugging in a cable. That's the plan."

"Alright but that only works as long as you're in control of Liberty. If it gets subverted then you can't do anything and this plan goes nowhere."

I nodded. "That's why I asked you to—"

Another angry noise from Skids drew my attention and I instinctively ducked. A practice ball whizzed by worryingly close to us, on target to hit one of the scrying pools. A burst of air from an automated pressure cannon diverted the ball at nearly the last moment.

Everyone stopped, stared, and took a minute to listen to the commentary.

"And that's a second point to Cuthroat Channel! Yarrg pulled a perfect spin dazzle to favourably exchange mid attention allowing for a clockwise push without drawing down the flank buffers. That's the first goal Sky Metal has let through, thanks in part to Satat Dro's unwilling involvement in the growing snowball formation. CC are now equal second with Dead Drop, but both teams face a long journey to ever be in cooee of first. Especially with the increasingly sticky situation Splash Zone's secret tech is causing. The atmosphere in the dome is increasingly aetheric as..."

"Rein it in, Skids," Swipe said with some sympathy. "That was almost extremely expensive."

Skids looked appropriately remorseful. "Yeah, I, uh... Yeah." Sa stalked over to the scrying pools and pointed dramatically. "Is there any point in minor improvements when we're up against the likes of that?"

Broth was the one to speak up. "Skids, we're representing all of Wonambi. Even if our best isn't as good as any other hives, we have to put forward our best. We have control over how much effort we apply, so we can't let that be the thing that holds us back. Otherwise we'll never improve and it will be our own fault."

"So if we try hard enough we can blame someone else?" Skids shot back.

"That's not what I... That isn't how... Look, no one's blaming anyone, but if we know we could have done better we won't be able to help but blame ourselves. And I don't want that for you. Got it?"

"Yeah, I get it," Skids said, looking down and aimlessly scraping at the field with sa's toes alternately. "Now, Drift was talking about he's plan to use Liberty against... well, against one of those and four others." Ra indicated the Yiwarra match, which included six demons all significantly larger than even the most heavily armoured players.

"They're gonna eat your fuzzy bat for lunch," Punnt said, baring dro's teeth to make an exaggerated chomping motion.

I replied with a grin. "Not in the—"

Reproductions of wild cheering and barely coherent shouts of commentators pulled all eyes back to the Yiwarra match. "...can't believe it's already over! In the space of seconds, everything changed! With more than half the players tied up or pinned down, Dead Drop's dropbeast rammed the glued conglomeration of every ball and a few players through Sky Metal's goal, knocking the favourites out of the match! Sky Metal's lead looked unassailable as no one else was even close to reaching the 'around the field' bonus. Dead Drop wins with a mere three point total! Splash Zone had not scored a single point before the final moment of the match! Dead Drop and Cutthroat Channel had been even at two points but CC's ball hadn't been reactivated after scoring."

"Wow," Skids said with the flatness of someone who didn't quite believe what they were hearing. "Dead Drop? Thall have never reached the championship match."

"Is that good?" I asked. "We were all so worried about Sky Metal locking us out until a minute ago."

"It's not at all good," Swipe said more gravely than I had ever heard sheem speak. "Everyone I've spoken to in the chroma business has been terrified at the prospect of facing Dead Drop. But every season thall have failed to overcome the other Yiwarra teams. Often by a concerted, intentional effort. Dead Drop being in the mix changes a lot of my plans, if not all of them." She paused and stared uncertainly into the distance. "I think we need a completely new approach. Yeah, I think we should cooldown and end this session early. I'll put some new notes together and we can work on a new strategy at our next... Actually, can everyone meet up late tomorrow night?"

We each in turn gave our assent. Skids and Broth had to change work shifts around, while Punnt and Scaff had to cancel social plans, but we all made it work. I was keeping on top of my academy workload, so fitting in an extra training session after cutting this one short shouldn't be a hardship for me.

"Alright then, let's get started with two slow jogs around the field!" Swipe's commanding voice got us all moving, though Scaff and I made our displeasure known with groans. Distance running was one of my least favoured activities.

Five hours later — actually it was about fifty minutes, but it felt like hours — I had showered and was leaving the training field with my armour bag slung over my right shoulder and Liberty perched on my left. The hallways encircling the field and connecting it to the streets outside felt like a maze, reminding me of my adventure with Skids in Forrester's Crossing's underdark. It was lit, but I always feared getting lost, even with directions from my scryer.

A cloaked stranger blindsided me, stepping into my way as I tried passing a dark doorway. I stopped and tightened my grip on my bag.

We exchanged glances. Mine questioning and hopefully challenging, theirs placid. I wasn't sure whether I was dealing with a seer or a hexmage, as the highlights of their robe, tattoos and hair weren't clearly blue or violet under the present lighting conditions.

"Wha-what do you want?" Was this the moment that a terrible fate caught up with me for leaving my home and the protection of my father and the clerics?

No, I had to stop thinking that way. That was what I told myself, but that didn't stop the fear.

If only I had left with Skids instead of walking alone...

"Your help, Drift He," the stranger said. "I'm Liner He, and I've heard you have some unusual insight into hexes."

So, there was nothing to fear at all. The tension drained out of my body like condensation out of an air compressor. "You have my attention. What's this about?"

Liner leaned in, and I mirrored the motion. We were close enough that I could identify the shade of lipstick he wore. Glossy Grape #3, to be exact. "It's the growth pods," he whispered.

"Something's wrong with them?" I asked quickly, alarmed at the thought. With no growth pods, there would be no new mages. Old me might have rejoiced at that in the abstract, but...

"No, no, there's no problem. It's about the hex that selects pairs of parents from which to grow children."

I frowned. "I thought no one knew who anyone's parents are. Mages are raised by carers and biological relationship is irrelevant." I still found that rather odd, but mages generally found matrinomy odd at best so I kept that to myself.

"Right, but what we're interested in is how it makes the selection. No research team has been able to establish how it works. The hex is too big and complex and we have no way of testing it."

"Who's 'we'?"

"Just some concerned citizens," Liner said vaguely.

"And how do you expect me to help? I'm not any better at reading hexes than anyone else. Probably worse than many."

"I understand. But I'm hoping you can change that."

I groaned, torn between my desire to solve a new problem and my current responsibilities. "No guarantees, but I'm willing to hear more."