In the home team changing pavilion, the boys took their muncs away to clean up first. Sports clothes were thrown into the laundry hopper, then the cohorts showered, soaping then sluicing their pelts before standing on the air-dryer where they larked about under the warm jets. Finally they put on their everyday tunics—simple sleeveless one-pieces that went over the head. Dellian had chosen a fabric of orange-and-green stripes for his cohort, which stood out from the blander choices of his yearmates.
Once the muncs were done, he showered himself. Standing under the hot water, he suddenly felt profoundly tired. His nose was swelling badly now, and it was aching. His arm felt horribly stiff and a little numb. Bruises were making themselves known. The brief fight replayed in his mind, and, strangely, he began to appreciate Ellici’s comments. It was all dumb instinct, no thought, no strategy. Hit and be hit. “Stupid,” he told himself.
Uranti, the munc-tech, was waiting in hir clinic. Arena matches always produced a variety of injuries and bruises among the cohorts that sie patched up. This time Uranti’s head shook in bemusement as Dellian brought his cohort in.
“My my, what have we got here?” sie said with acid sarcasm. “Am I tending your cohort or you?”
Dellian stared at the floor. Uranti was female cycling, which Dellian always found more intimidating than when sie was in a male cycle. He didn’t know why; he just did. When the grown-ups were female it somehow managed to make any guilt bite deeper. With a groan he remembered Principal Jenner was also in hir female cycle now.
—
The clan’s dormitory domes were all clustered together in the middle of the Immerle estate—grand white marble buildings with tall arches around the base, and inset with slender, dark windows. After he finished in the clinic, Dellian started off toward them through the lush gardens, but when he was still a hundred meters away, he caught sight of the figures racing around the thick base columns, heard the chatter and laughter of his clanmates—all so perfectly normal. He promptly turned off the path and wandered through the tall old trees (great for climbing), winding up in one of the sunken lawns, surrounded by high hedges of pink sweet-scented flowers. There was a stone-lined pond in the center, with two fountains playing in the middle. He sat on the edge and watched the long gold-and-white koi carp slide about below the surface, hiding from the curious muncs under big lily pads.
Right now he just didn’t feel like company. He knew his yearmates would be gathering in the lounge, gossiping about the match. By now the news of the fight in the arena would have spread to every yeargroup. The clan would be talking about it for days; all the younger kids would ask him a thousand questions.
It wasn’t long before he heard someone coming down the stone steps behind him. His muncs all turned around, but he kept staring at the fish; he was pretty sure who it was. All the clan kids reckoned the adults who looked after them could mainline the genten that managed the estate; it was how they kept track of where everyone was the whole time. Because sure as Zagreus this wasn’t a random encounter.
“Something on your mind?” Alexandre asked.
Dellian suppressed a grin at being right. “I’m sorry.”
“Why?”
“Huh?” Dellian twisted around to find a surprisingly lively smile on hir lips. “But…we were fighting.”
“Ah, but why were you fighting?”
“If he’d hit Yirella at that speed he would have hurt her. It was deliberate, I was sure of it.”
“Okay, that’s good enough for me.”
“Really?”
Alexandre’s arm swept around. “Why do we have a fence around the estate?”
“To keep the beasts out,” Dellian replied automatically.
“Right. If you haven’t learned just how unsafe Juloss is by now, you never will. The enemy is out there, Dellian; they search for humans constantly. And because we have to be silent, we never know how successful they are. We live in a dangerous galaxy, and it may be that Juloss is home to the last free humans. You have to look out for each other to survive. That’s the real lesson you’re learning here. And you practiced it today. I’m pleased about that.”
“So…does that mean I’m not in detention?”
“Very calculating, Dellian. No, you’re not in detention. But you don’t get a reward, either. Not yet.”
“Yet?”
Hir smile grew wider. “We’ll leave that for when you get to the real battle games in your senior years. For now, you need to learn about strategy and teamwork, which is what the arena tournaments are all about. So let’s concentrate on getting that right first, shall we?”
“Okay!” He grinned, and his cohort began reflecting his relief, smiling and flapping their hands in contentment. “Good good,” they cooed.