"Go to the Giant's Drink and I'll show you," she says.
She bypasses the Drink for six boys. They drift through the clouds, but they don't find villages, or pretty landscapes - they just find parts of the game they've already been to.
"Don't look at me, that's the same way I got here," says Bella. She's teaching her bird-people the scientific method now, painstakingly, almost comically, by mime and enthusiastic gestures. They're getting it, a little; a pink-and-gray one has put a cup of water in the sun and a similar cup of water in the shade and is staring at them intently.
By the time Bella has been at Battle School for six weeks she has tried all the games in the game room, and most of them (apart from the newly fascinating fantasy game) are now only interesting if someone will play against her. Most people won't. She's got too much of an advantage over the controls, and even at Battle School, among what really is a better crop of brains than kindergarten, it's apparently too much to ask that anyone think faster.
"Well, they don't know it yet, but I'm going to have them put up a building and then herd them into it for classes, because they all scatter if they get rained on when I try to teach them stuff," says Bella.
"Yup. These are my bird people and they are going to be educated," says Bella with immense satisfaction.
"Eventually I'll work things out with the antelope people and then they will be mine too."
"Well, I might run into a village that I can't get on board, but I don't think the antelopes are those people," says Bella.
"Depends on what they're like. If they just don't want me in their village I can go around them and leave them alone. If they're mean and they attack my birds - or my antelopes or my whatever - then I get to try classwork in the game, I guess."
"Yeah. I mean, they dress it up like a school, but we're glorified child soldiers. I won't be surprised if it lets me absorb like three villages and then throws one at me that is inimical to their survival. Bug-people," she says.
"Maybe. It knows I don't mind ragequitting, though," she snorts. "Or it should. It's just a game, if it's not fun I'll stop."
"I don't wanna share my avatar," she says. "Especially not if it confuses my birds. I like my birds." (Her avatar hugs the nearest bird, which tolerates this with good grace.)
Bella has many projects running concurrently in her bird village, since things go roughly in real time. She checks next on the birds who are learning to make paper. They have managed pulpy ragged-edged beige stuff, which Bella nods at approvingly; she doesn't know how to teach them to make anything smoother and it'll do. She's just about to start showing them how to paint when free play over comes up on her screen.
Bella does her classwork; after a few weeks the teachers have more finely distinguished ability from past training and sorted everyone into their semipermanent class levels and the difficulty ramps up. She flies around in the battle room, leveraging her cheater's exoskeleton to dance in the air like she can on a floor, to shoot straight and dodge beams with artful twists of herself. She notebooks about herself, at least half an hour a day even if nothing special happens. And she plays with her birds, and she works out that the antelopes were just threatened by the shovels and will allow river diversion after seeing mock-work done by nonthreatening trowels, and she builds a bridge between the villages.