After speaking to Zell, she fell into a kind of half-sleep, remembering the burned-match smell of Flares missing their target and scorching rock, the stench of seaweed on a rainy beach, the taste of blood and iron in her mouth casting cure after cure. The last thing that crossed her mind was perhaps a half-lost memory, of rocks and spilled blood, and of gulls circling over an empty ocean.
Quistis got up somewhat earlier than had become her habit; she had a meeting with her student advisor, "call me Rahida", to organise her class schedule. It was, unusally, an overcast day, though humid, and she wore a thin raincoat in case the weather turned. She took a pocket Estharian dictionary with her on the shuttle.
While she'd studied what was available of the language at Garden, the isolation Esthar had imposed upon itself between wars had left significant gaps in her vocabulary, and she was nervous that she might not be up to the academic standard. Thankfully, for her written application, she'd been allowed to submit her thesis in Standard Centran, which was commonly spoken throughout Balamb, eastern Galbadia, and the Centran diaspora including western and southern Esthar. Her scientific Estharian, while adequate, needed work.
The meeting was to take place in a faculty building on the main campus in District Fifteen; most of the buildings were still shut up for summer, she noticed, although caretakers were out watering the lawns – grass! - and cleaning windows. She found the building quickly and arrived ten minutes early, slightly damp and frizzed; it had indeed started to drizzle as she left the shuttle.
Her advisor was a plump, dark woman who reminded her of Doctor Kadowaki at Garden in her manner; unassuming and friendly, she quickly switched the conversation to Centran after noticing Quistis stumble a few times trying to explain her area of academic interest. They worked out a fairly rigorous schedule; she was strong in practical areas, but lacked formal qualifications in magical neuroscience. She'd have to take a three-week internship testing volunteers later in the year, Rahida explained: basic stuff, slapping electrodes on them while they had a GF temporarily junctioned, all subjects to be taken from the combat science program in any case, so they had already signed release forms in case of sudden death.
"All old hat to you of course, I suppose, but it is necessary, after all." The woman's speech was rather charming in its quaintness, Quistis decided, realising that the twenty years of nil communications had, after all, worked both ways.
She felt cheered after the meeting; Rahida had made her feel somewhat competent, praising the ideas set forth in her application, and she decided to celebrate by going shopping for the winter ahead. She'd hardly needed casual clothes at Garden, being in uniform so very often. Sadly, she discovered, SeeD-style military chic was all the rage in Esthar; most people her age seemed to be in outlandish army boots and navy denim instead of the traditional robes she'd got used to during the war and then in her new neighbourhood. Nonetheless, she found some clothes that fit her, weren't robes, and didn't remind her too much of her old uniform, and then set out for home. It was rather marvellous, she thought, being so anonymous; in Balamb, of course, SeeDs were local heroes, which did grow tedious when all you'd really done was tie your colours to someone else's mast.
Of course, there were bound to be some people who knew who she was.
She would decide later that the blame for everything lay squarely at the feet of the graduate students. The three graduate students who had moved in while she was shopping and who, in the way of privileged young people in higher education everywhere, already seemed to know each other. They were utterly alien to Quistis; she felt as if she were at work already, examining an entirely new species. They treated her like a monkey that had, inexplicably, learned to talk.
Merle was tall, serious until she smiled; she laughed like she was trying to eat you, and had the most ridiculous hair – pastel green which clashed horribly with her skin. Arima was small, round, and dark, with a sweet elfin face and huge brown eyes – and then there was Tomasz, who had treated her with icy, wordless disdain until a few weeks into the academic year.
She had been sitting at the kitchen table, directly under the air conditioner, sipping a glass of iced water, and preparing her notes for her three weeks of clinical trials. She'd still need to translate the lot when she'd finished, but it was too hot for dictionaries.
Tomasz had stalked in and eyed her up and down. She looked down herself, seeing nothing wrong with the vest and shorts she was wearing. It was too damned hot. He stood there staring at her until the silence became too much for her to bear, so she raised an eyebrow.
"I don't suppose you could move so I can eat my dinner without melting?"
She said nothing, but moved her chair. As she continued to work, she heard him snap open a styrofoam container. She could tell he was watching her, and decidedly did not type "You're a dickhead, you're a dickhead, you're a dickhead." She started working on her formulas for the expected initial elevation in heart rate after an initial junction. After adjusting for sex, age, height and weight -
"They make you to experiment on people?" Tomasz' Centran was atrocious.
She replied in Estharian: "Why not? They let Odine do it." Hers was almost as bad, but he clearly hadn't allowed for her knowing any of his language at all. His lip curled, and she couldn't resist.
"Maybe now you will wait until I'm out before you call me a Galbadian tramp. Incidentally, I'm not from Galbadia." As far as you need to know. For all I know, I could be.
He didn't reply, so she turned back to her computer, which was making a sound she had not heard in a long time.
Bing – bing – beep – On the screen, she saw a flashing icon. It read: "Incoming: Terminal Remote-BG-323A."
Well. This was unfortunate. And, sadly, expected. She closed her eyes for a moment, thinking; if she didn't answer, they'd probably know she was ignoring them, because it wouldn't ring if the computer wasn't on. On the other hand, the thought of taking this call with Tomasz in the room was unbearable. As if reading her mind, he muttered "Kids think it's all right to ignore calls? So rude."
Fuck him, then. She answered the call, and let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding.
"Selphie? What are you doing at Squall's terminal?"
"I'm in charge, silly! And since I'm in charge today, I thought I'd tell you the good news first!"
"Selphie – who put you in charge?"
"Squall, silly!"
"Is he dead?"
"You are so, so lucky that I don't have any feelings left for you to hurt." Quistis winced, but the relief at who wasn't calling kept her in good humour. "Squall's in Timber, Xu is in a meeting, Nida's being pilot, and that leaves me in charge!"
"What about Gina?" By now, Quistis was laughing from her belly.
"I'm going to kill you! And my good news is going to make it one million times easier!"
Quistis leaned back. "Okay, what's the good news?"
"Okay, so. This is totally confidential, but-"
"Selphie, maybe you should call back in a while."
"No! I have to tell you! Sir Laguna knows all about this anyway! Basically GalbadiaandTimberarecooperatingandthey'reworkingwithDolletandtheywannalaycablesrightundertheoceanallthewaytoEstharandthat'sawesomebecause-"
"You get to kill me faster over the internet? I don't get it."
"Oh my god, Quisty, for a genius you are like super dumb. Okay so, number one," Selphie started counting on her fingers, "We get internet, yeah, everywhere, because all the good sites are in Esthar, and after putting in all that cable under the sea they're gonna put up shielded masts that put out a signal everyone can pick up. So I can call you whenever I want and not just when the weather is good and we happen to be sailing under a satellite.
"Number two, SeeD is gonna be helping defend the workers who are laying the cables. We get to kill sea monsters and cast spells so the guys can breathe down there and stuff, so I can come and visit whenever I have leave, and kill you maybe if I have time.
"And number three, once it's done these super duper Estharian cables will ward off all the bad stuff in between there and here, so we can totally just sail over! And then, number four, I can watch Sir Laguna's press conferences every day on TV without having to steal a rocket ship! Booyaka!"
"...Wow, that is actually pretty cool."
"I know, right? I have to go now, because if Xu catches me here she'll go apeshit. But I wanted you to know, because Laguna's probably gonna call you." Selphie bit her lip. "Sorry."
"Why are you sorry, Selphie? This is really good news for everyone."
"You wanted to get away, didn't you? And here we are."
"Not like that." She pauses and thinks. Selphie is out of the seat and leaning over the terminal, ready to run if she's caught.
"You staying put for a little while?"
"Yeah, Garden's parked for at least another day so we can keep communications open with Timber. When I said Nida was piloting, I meant he's napping on the bridge."
"I'll call you later on your com, then. And- Selphie, I'm sorry."
"Already forgiven. Love ya. Put your nipples away." And the call cut out.
Quistis breathed out again, slowly and deeply. Speaking with Selphie was always exhausting. Pleasant, yes, but she was uncomfortably aware of all the things they had yet to discuss. Not to mention the... other issue that had, as it were, been raised.
This news, though. Her brow furrowed. Esthar was still guarding itself closely; how would this change things? Would SeeD get visas for shore leave? She felt Tomasz looking at her. How much of that conversation had he understood?
He answered that one for her before she had time to dissemble. "You think we can travel now? To Dollet, or..."
She mumbled, distracted still, "I don't know. Sounds like it, huh?"
The smile on his face was bright and glorious.
She found out that his family had come to Esthar from Dollet before the borders closed; that he had spent his life being mocked for his paleness (she hadn't noticed), his frivolity, and his love of fashion – by the end of it, they were not quite friends, but something near to it.
She didn't mention SeeD.
FFnet is weird with line breaks. I actually wrote most of what's already been posted in 2011 but I feel like I need to actually write it and get it out of my head so I can (hopefully) find a new fandom and stop this one sucking away my life. If anything in here annoys you severely (aside from Quistis' nipples) please beat me with a stick in the reviews section. Thanks for reading.