Chapter 5: Cold Tea

It was a long hike from the shuttle pad to Pampaa Topilli's modest cottage in the woods. Etzli took her time. She had no reason to rush, and no idea what she'd say once she got there.

Pampaa was a kind man, but even he had limits. After all those years he spent preparing her to face the Criterion–what would he say when he found out she hadn’t even made it past the first trial?

Despite the distance, Etzli reached her home in what felt like moments.

She hesitated at the door.

Just as Etzli worked up the nerve to go in, the door swung open. Pampaa poked his head out. His beard was a mess of tangles and he wore no shoes. She'd only been gone half a day and he already looked like a vagrant.

Seeing her, he broke into an open, almost childlike smile. "My dear Sunshine! Back from the Criterion already!"

Shooting him a stormy glare, Etzli said, "You're a mess. What happened to you?"

"And looking quite somber, I see. Shouldn't wonder."

Etzli hadn't cried since the shuttle ride, a small victory to which she clung with shaky resolve. Now a fresh wave of sadness crashed over her. She wanted to grow a big bushy beard just like Pampaa, and then rip it out of her face by the roots.

"Come in, come in!" Pampaa stepped to one side. "I've got oolong steeping."

Etzli entered the sitting room. She pushed past the precarious piles of relics, maps, and ancient texts. She flopped down onto a rocking chair.

Pampaa poured them each a cup of steaming hot tea. He kept right on smiling, clearly happy she was home safe and sound.

Meanwhile, she wanted to crawl out of her skin and go be someone else for the rest of her life. She held her tea, but made no move to drink it. She stared at nothing in particular.

"Go on, have a sip. It's very good, yes. Grown on Tethys. All the best teas come from Tethys," Pampaa said.

Etzli blew on the tea, but didn't drink. With a trembling sigh, she muttered, "I failed."

"I know."

"What!" she exploded. "Who told you!"

Pampaa said, "No one, of course. No, I'm afraid it's quite apparent from your demeanor, which is considerably gloomier than normal, and that's saying something, darling."

His own good spirits hadn't dimmed in the slightest, which confounded Etzli. She was terrified he would view her failure as his own. After all, he's the one who took her in, raised, and spent years training her to become an Outranger.

"Yeah, I'm down," she admitted with bitterness. "I failed!"

"You did."

"I failed you!"

Pampaa raised a hand. "Ah, now there I must disagree."

"--And it's been all for nothing!" Etzli wiped her eyes and stared down at her tea, wishing it was something stronger.

"Passing the Criterion is no small thing," Pampaa said. "Hundreds enter every season and, if we're all very lucky, five or six actually make it through. You're aware of these numbers, yes?"

"Yes," Etzli muttered.

"Because that's what it takes to bring a bit of justice to an unjust galaxy. The Criterion is, by design, almost absurdly difficult. And yet, every member of the Avant Outrangers, every single one, ends up saying the same thing: it wasn't hard enough."

Etzli grumbled, refusing to feel comforted by these facts.

"And, despite all this, you just assumed you would be one of the precious few to pass?" Pampaa asked.

"Hell yes!" said Etzli. "I wouldn't have even tried if I didn't think I could do it."

"Oh dear," Pampaa said, sounding disappointed for the first time.

"I'm not even sure what I did wrong." Etzli sighed. "Weird stuff happened down there, Pampaa. Weird stuff."

She hesitated, weighing whether this was the time to tell him about her monstrous condition. On one hand, he might offer some sage advice. On the other, he could recoil in terror. This thing inside her had destroyed enough for one day. She wasn’t about to let it ruin her relationship with her father too. She chose silence.

After a quiet beat, Pampaa said, "It's true, the Elders don't give notes on a candidate's performance."

"Why? Don't they want to help us improve?"

Pampaa inclined his head. "A fair question, as far as it goes. But life tests us in many ways, and rarely gives us any indication whether or not we've made the best choice, even years later."

Etzli stared into her cup. "Didn't make it past the first test."

"Well, there's always next time."

Etzli made a skeptical face. "You mean, re-enter the Criterion?"

Pampaa nodded. "Exactly."

"But they don't let anyone re-enter the Criterion for ten years..." Putting her tea aside, Etzli wondered if there was some shortcut she didn't know about. "Right?"

"No, you're right. Ten years, at the least, yes."

"And what am I supposed to do until then?"

Pampaa shrugged. "Train, I suppose."

Eztli buried her face in her hands. "I don't know if I want to do that."

"It's your choice, of course. As of now, this moment, your future is open. You're an adult. You're free to do whatever you like."

"I want to be an Outranger!" she shouted into her hands.

"Except that."

"I'm sorry," she mumbled into her hands.

"Nothing to be sorry for, Sunshine."

Etzli lowered her hands just enough to peer up at him. "You're not... ashamed?"

"Of course not. You committed to your training and, when the time came, you took your swing. I'm proud as punch!" Pampaa beamed.

Etzli found herself smiling back at him. If someone had told her she'd be feeling better so soon, she'd have socked them in the teeth.

She reached for her tea.

There was a knock at the door.

"Excellent!" Pampaa said.

"Are you expecting someone?" Etzli asked.

"No," he replied, clearly confused why she would even ask.

And that's why she loved Pampaa. He thrilled to everything new life threw at him, including surprise visitors. Etzli wasn't wired that way.

Pampaa opened the door to armed soldiers. Their gunmetal gray uniforms marked them as troops from the fortress on the nearby moon of Krysta. Rifles in hand, they seethed with righteous formality.

"Hello," Pampaa said. "Would you like to come in for some tea?"

His friendly greeting startled the troops. They hesitated, confused.

The commanding officer's expression hardened. He flicked his hand, igniting a holographic image from his wrist.

A tiny glowing Etzli projected directly in front of Pampaa's face.

The commanding officer said, "We have an arrest warrant for one Etzli Laughing River. Is she here?"

"Me?" Etzli said, holding her tea-cup halfway to her mouth.

Spotting her, the troops raised their weapons. Several backed up a step. They looked scared of her.

"Excuse you!" Pampaa raised his hands defensively, as if he could swat away any bolts they tried to fire past him. "There's no need for that!"

The commanding officer placed his hand on his sidearm. "Ms. Laughing River, surrender yourself immediately! Do not resist!"

"Fine." Setting her cup aside, Etzli got to her feet. This really wasn't the day for this crap. She tilted her head both ways, cracking her neck. "Tea's cold anyway."