Drifters

Inti's Watcher

"Our last two contests were cold and wet," Nop said. "This week we have something different planned! Your task, if you choose to join, will be to survive twenty-four hours in the Sahara Desert!"

"Wonderful," Marie said flatly.

Peter and Razan looked much more enthusiastic than she was.

"We're taking you back to the Azalay Trade Route," Nop continued. "We'll drop everyone off, spaced evenly apart, with supply pads between you. Get to a pad and either kindly share supplies or guard them with your life. If multiple teams survive the whole period, there will be multiple first-place winners. Some gear will be provided, but most of what you need will be on the pads. Let us know by tonight if you're joining!"

"We're joining," Peter said immediately.

Marie raised her eyebrows at him. "We are?"

He looked at her with excitement in his eyes. "This is desert survival. That's been a requirement in every job I've ever had! You know the ocean, but trust me when I say I know the desert."

"I'd like to visit the Sahara," Sophie said. "And I like the idea of being on the planet for a full day."

Marie turned to Razan. "Thoughts?"

"There are no deserts in Japan," he said. "Testing myself in a new environment would be good. Enlightening."

She turned back to Nop. "Very well. We'll join."

Peter jumped to his feet, smiling. "Captain: allow me to make the preparations."

"Granted," she said, tilting her head.

"Thank you. That would include clothes; will you all allow me to get outfits for you?"

"Yes," Marie said.

"I don't know why, but I feel you are trustworthy in this," Razan decided.

Sophie batted her eyelashes. "Only if you get something that makes me look good."

Peter smiled. "Come with me and give your opinion, then."

"That sounds perfect," she said.

He bowed with a flourish, and they walked to the common area.

Marie waited for the door to close behind them before turning to Razan. "Have you adjusted your translator to alert you to a change in language?"

He paused, caught off-guard by the question. "No; should I?"

She looked back at the door. "I have. So has Peter. That's the first time he's spoken Spanish in front of Sophie."

"What does that mean?" Razan asked.

"It means he's so excited about this he forgot his shame."

Peter scrolled through the available boots.

"The problem is we'll be there all night as well as all day," he said. "Deserts get cold at night, so if we only come prepared for extreme heat we'll freeze."

Sophie nodded studiously.

"It's a careful balancing act between extremes," he said, pausing on leather boots. "The other problem is, both our colors are fairly dark. Having light-colored clothes would be best."

"The red-orange looks lighter than the blue-green, should we get everything in that color?"

"If we can. Do these look good for you?" He moved, letting her fully see the screen.

She narrowed her eyes at them, then nodded. "Those will do."

"Excellent." He bought them. "Everyone has belts, right?"

"Well, Marie and I do. Razan doesn't wear real belts," Sophie said.

Peter checked to make sure he was wearing a belt. He was. He smiled, deciding to not ask why she'd implied he didn't have one. "That settles that. Now for clothes."

"Should I get a poncho?" Sophie asked. "They seem very versatile."

Peter hesitated. The idea of her in a poncho felt… wrong. Somehow. In a way he couldn't explain. "No," he finally said. "You won't need one. I have a better idea."

"Better?" she asked.

He nodded. "You can bring the coat you got for the mountain. But under that you need a light shirt."

She agreed as he scrolled through the linen shirts. He had one, unused, from the last competition. Marie's shirt from that competition would also work just fine. That left Sophie and Razan in need of shirts. They quickly found two that were perfect and bought them.

"Will we need some sort of camouflage?" Sophie asked.

"For what?"

"If we're going to a trade route, won't there be people?"

Peter hadn't thought of that. He looked around. "Nop, are you here?"

A part of the wall went up, and a raven hopped out. "Yes?"

Sophie took a step towards her. "Will there be people in the desert? Will we have to hide from them?"

"No," Nop answered. The bird settled down. "A few years ago we asked one of the traders to join our games. He declined, but was willing to help us with other things. One of those things being information. He said no one is stupid enough to be in the desert this time of year."

Peter frowned. "Stupid enough? Must get extremely hot, then."

"Yes, but the issue is more finding water," Nop said. "There's none for days."

"None for days… I presume that means brush is sparse?"

"There is almost no brush."

"Almost none?" He smiled. "Great!"

"Why is that great?" Sophie asked.

"It means we don't have to worry about being scratched by cacti," he said. "Forget denim, we can get the lightest fabric there is and be fine." He found the menu for pants and scrolled through.

Razan wrote quickly, listening to everything Innoka said. She had a full page of notes for every team, and all of it seemed vital. Names, approximate ages, areas of origin, fighting styles, temperaments, everything. She'd studied these people well.

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He asked a few questions, but mostly listened. She was smart and spoke clearly. He presumed that if he could read her language, he'd see her handwriting was neat and precise.

"That brings us to Group 35, the Foxes," she said, smiling. "Everyone in that group is highly intelligent, and an expert in all types of combat."

Razan nodded seriously, turning his page and carefully writing something. Innoka watched him, her smile growing. One of her canines was twisted and stuck out a bit; it was always the first tooth that showed when she smiled, and it made her look like a cat.

"What did you write?" she asked when he was done.

"What you said," he told her innocently, motioning to the words. "Group 35, Foxes, falsely believe they are the best at everything."

She laughed. "That's actually quite kind. Thank you for not insulting us."

He bowed slightly, unable to keep a small smile from his face.

"I'll only give you real information about my group if you give me information about yours first," Innoka said.

"That is fair," Razan decided.

She flipped the page over. "Here's what I have already. Group 37: Drifters. Colors: blue-green and red-orange. Leader: Marie. Experienced fighter. You're Razan. And that's all. You've won fights, but I didn't know if I should put that you're experienced. And I have no idea what to say about that snowball fight between the other two."

"Simple. Sophie is an over energetic idiot, and Peter is infatuated with her," Razan said flatly.

Innoka paused. "Do you not like them?"

Razan thought that over. "I respect them. They're good teammates. Peter, when away from Sophie, I'd consider a friend. Sophie… I see flashes of a competent, responsible person in there, but she hides it if someone more responsible is around."

"Interesting," Innoka said, writing a few words.

He watched her. "What did you write?"

"You treat Sophie like a little sister."

Razan was about to object, but stopped. "In a way."

"Do you have sisters?" she asked.

"Yes. One older and two younger. I'll admit I don't know them as well as I should," he said. "Do you have siblings?"

"I'm the youngest of seven," Innoka said. "But I'm interviewing you first. Tell me about Marie. Where's she from? How old is she?"

"She's from the sea. It would be rude to state her age without her permission."

Innoka laughed, writing. "I'll ask her directly, then. Other than experienced fighter, should I know anything about her?"

"She knows when people are lying," he said. "When she looks into your eyes it's like she's reading all your secrets."

"Very interesting." She wrote for a few seconds. "Peter?"

"He's from Texas, is twenty-three, was a soldier, and I get the sense he and Marie knew each other somehow."

Innoka wrote more slowly, growing thoughtful. "Is he a good fighter?"

"He's afraid of pain. He says he's better with ranged weapons, and I haven't seen him with those yet." Razan watched her. "Is something wrong?"

"It's… not important here. My people have had bad experiences with… U.S. soldiers."

"Oh." He hesitated. "Forgive me for not knowing anything about the world outside Japan."

She sighed, her gold eyes flashing. "They're invaders. My people belong to the land. They come in and take whatever they like without thinking of the future. Without respect for the animals or plants. And when we tell them to stop, to respect the land, they call us stupid and kill us."

Razan frowned. "If they disrespect the local spirits, surely their deaths will be slow and painful."

"Well, yes, many of them have died traveling across our-" She stopped, noticing something. "You know about the spirits?"

"I know the ones of my land," he said. "They probably aren't the same as yours. I've been worried since getting here about space spirits, but my fellow samurai only pay their respects to the moon goddess. Do you know of any space spirits?"

Innoka smiled again. "I've been trying to find out about any, but most people laugh when I ask. The rostari aren't any help. I asked my father to pay respect to the sky people on my behalf, and I just hope that's enough."

"Is your father a monk?"

"Monk?" she asked, confused.

"Holy man?"

"Oh, no, he's just the head of my family."

"Pity. I would have asked you to request he pray for me, too."

She nodded. "I can do that. And if you find one of your monk to pray for you, have him pray for me. Having more spirits watching out for us can only be good."

He bowed. "I shall ask my father to find one for us in my next letter home."

Sophie let herself out of her room. Sneaking out was becoming a habit. She went to the long corridor and checked for movement.

Far to the north, a square machine rolled out of sight. Other than that, nothing. She nodded to herself, walking soundlessly around to Peter's room.

After discussing stealth with Rani, Sophie had been convinced to go barefoot. All shoes had some sort of disadvantage. …At least according to Rani. Sophie wanted to look through the options one more time, but for now learning to do things barefoot was good.

Her mother would kill her, but she enjoyed the freedom of not wearing shoes.

She got to Peter's room, turned the dial all the way to the right, and hit the button. The wall went up, a cool breeze moving with it.

Peter didn't have a desk or table. The only furniture he'd asked for was a chest, which sat at the foot of his bed. Marie had a similar chest, but hers had a curved top. She'd also put it at the foot of her bed, and Sophie wondered if there was a reason for keeping a chest there. She would have to ask.

Peter slept on his stomach, limbs hanging off the sides of the bed. Sophie watched him for a few seconds, wondering how he could breathe with his face in a pillow. He used his old poncho as a second blanket, stretched out over him. His new poncho was folded neatly on the chest.

Sophie tapped her chin, debating. Taking the new poncho would be easy. Laughably easy.

Too easy.

She could do better.

She reached out, touching the fringed hem of Peter's old poncho. Very slowly, she pulled it off the bed.

Peter stirred in his sleep. She hadn't seen him do that before. Not wanting him to wake up from the change in temperature, Sophie unfolded his new poncho and laid it over him.

An idea struck her as she stepped back. Almost laughing, she folded up his old poncho and left it where the new one had been.

Feeling unreasonably clever, Sophie went back to the corridor and closed the wall.

Razan woke up at some absurd hour of the night, aware he wasn't alone. He opened his eyes halfway, keeping his breathing steady.

Sophie was moving silently through his room, looking at everything with open curiosity. Her fingers trailed absently along his bed as she moved around it. She noticed his swords on their stand and reached out, stepping towards them.

"Touch my katana and I will run you through with it," Razan snapped.

Sophie squeaked, spinning around. "With a fright like that you won't have to. I didn't notice you wake up at all."

He sat up. "I'll take that as a compliment. Now get out."

She smiled brightly, setting herself down in his chair. "You must be a very light sleeper. Marie stirred a bit but didn't wake. I could drive a herd of elephants through Peter's room and he'd be unaware."

"You stole from Marie?" he asked, resigning himself to conversation.

"I'm not that much of an idiot," Sophie said, offended. "I left something in her room. Was going to leave something here, but it's no fun if you know I did it. Do you always sleep naked?"

"If it offends you, feel free to leave," Razan said, not adjusting the sheet around him. "There is a door there, a vent, another door-"

"Can't use the bathroom door," Sophie said seriously. "From inside, the doors only open to the person who owns the adjoining room. And I can't reach the vent without help."

"Fascinating. Not that I care, but how did you get in?" He thought it over as she grinned. "Actually I do care. If I knew, I could stop you from doing it again."

"No you can't, it's not allowed to lock wall panels," she said smugly.

He frowned. "You came in through the wall?"

"Magicians and thieves must never reveal their ways," she said, leaning back.

"So you aren't opening the door to the group area… Can you get to anyone's room? In the whole ship?"

For once she hesitated. "Anyone on this side, at least. The corridor from the odd numbered areas to the even numbered areas is quite busy. If I were to get caught anywhere, it'd be there."

Razan grinned. "How would you like to visit Group 1's area?"

"Group- The Masks? They're never out of their area. I have no idea what their sleep schedules are like. It's too dangerous."

"And here I thought you were observant," he mocked, tilting his head. "They always leave on Saturday evening to watch the report, the same as everyone else. That's at least an hour where we know they won't be in their area."

Sophie sat forwards, very serious. "You're that curious about them?"

"You aren't?"

She frowned, calculating. "If there's some sort of communication device I'll do it. If you stand by their door and tell me they're all out, that's the only way I'll go in. And I need a disguise."

"Why do you need a disguise?"

"I don't want to be recognized," she said.

He shook his head. "If the rostari see you walking around the Mask's rooms, they can see you putting on a disguise. You don't need one."

"Fine," she grumbled. "You're right, but I don't like it. Should I take anything, or just look?"

"Just look," he said. "At least the first time. Once we know our enemy we can decide what to do."

"I suppose that's logical," she said, and yawned. "My, it's getting late. I shall see you tomorrow." She got up, waved, and strolled out his door.