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Fledgling
...A Liaden Universe® Adventure
by
Sharon Lee and Steve Miller
...the story of Theo Waitley and how she came to have a "kind of complicated" problem to lay before the delm of Korval.
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Chapter Three
"It's time to get up," the clock announced in a cheery sing-song.
Theo snuggled tighter into her pillow, getting a face full of fur in the process.
"It's time to get up," the clock sang again, slightly louder this time.
Theo sneezed and opened her eyes, coming
nose-to-nose with Coyster, who was propped up on the pillow like a
miniature -- and very furry -- human.
"It's time to get up!" The clock was beginning to sound a little testy.
Theo sneezed again. Coyster put a paw on her nose and looked disapproving.
"Theo Waitley," the clock said sternly. "If
you do not get up within the next thirty seconds, a note will be
inserted into your file. Mark."
"Gah," Theo said comprehensively, and flipped the
blanket back. The floor felt cold and creepy against her bare
feet as she crossed to the desk and pressed her thumb against the
clock's face.
"There," she muttered. "I'm up. Happy?"
The clock, duty done, didn't answer.
Theo sighed hugely and wandered out to the 'fresher to wash her face.
A few minutes later, slightly more awake, she was
rummaging in the closet for school coveralls. She dressed, hasty
in the cool air, and flicked a critical glance at the mirror. Her
face looked pale and tense; her hair every-which-way. She combed
her fingers through it, trying to make it lie flat, which never worked
-- and didn't now -- then turned to the bed.
Coyster was still lounging against the pillow, half-covered by the blanket, eyes slitted in satisfaction.
"Get up," Theo said. "I've gotta put the bed away."
Coyster yawned.
Theo reached over, hooked him under the belly and dropped him to the floor.
"If I can't sleep all day," she said, pulling the blanket straight. "You can't sleep all day."
Coyster stalked away, tail high, and jumped onto the
desk. By the time the bed was put away, he was curled and sound
asleep, like he'd been there for hours. Theo shook her head --
then bit her lip.
Last night, she'd filled a disposable bowl with
water and shredded some old hardcopy from a school project she
was done with into the cube's inverted top. Coyster had let her
know that he would tolerate these primitive arrangements for a limited
time, and Theo had added proper cat bowls, a litter box, kibble and a
can of his favorite treats to her growing after-school shopping
list. She felt bad about leaving him all day without anything to
snack on, even though she knew it wouldn't hurt him any.
As for what Kamele was likely say about the
unexpected inclusion of a cat in their new domestic arrangements --
Theo was trying not to think about that.
Yawning, she bent down to retrieve her school bag.
"I'm going to school," she told Coyster. An
orange ear flickered and Theo grinned. Not so sound asleep, after
all.
Bag over her shoulder, she slipped out of her room,
closing the door firmly. She didn't want Kamele finding out about
Coyster until she had a chance to explain the situation.
Chaos, she was tired! Which was, she
acknowledged as she headed down the hallway toward the kitchen,
entirely her own fault. She'd spent 'way too much time
working out the pattern for the lace rose she wanted to make. By
the time she'd given up and tucked her traveling kit away into her bag,
it had been late. Not as late as general lights out -- that was a
note-in-your-folder -- but well beyond the Strongly Suggested bed time
for juniors who hadn't yet had their Gigneri.
Yawning again, Theo dumped her bag on the meal bar
and put her hand on the kitchen door. Tea, she thought, was
definitely in order. Some of Father's strong, black tea with the
lemony after-note. She'd just put the kettle on and --
"What!" Theo stood, staring stupidly at the
bland lines and blank screen of a standard kaf unit. There was
nothing else in the alcove. No stove, no cabinets, no
refrigerator, no tins of tea lined against the back of the counter....
"Good morning, daughter." Kamele sounded as tired,
or tireder, as Theo felt, so it probably wasn't the smartest thing
she'd ever done to turn around and point at the poor kaf like it was
Disorderly or something, and demand, "Are we supposed to eat out of
that?"
Kamele frowned.
"Don't roar at me, Theo."
She swallowed. "I'm sorry. I was just -- expecting a kitchen."
Kamele's frown got deeper, and Theo felt her stomach
clench. "This is the kitchen most people have. It amused
Professor Kiladi to bypass the kaf and cook meals from base
ingredients. I saw no harm in allowing him to introduce you to
the hobby. If I'd foreseen that you would scorn plain, honest
food out of the kaf --"
"I'm not," Theo interrupted, and bit her lip.
"Kamele, I'm sorry. I'm not -- scorning -- the kaf. It was
just ...a shock. And, and I was looking forward to making a cup
of tea, and --"
"The kaf will give you a cup of tea," her mother
said austerely, interrupting in her turn. "All you need to do is
ask."
Tea from the kaf was not, in Theo's estimation, tea. It was a tepid, watery, tasteless beverage that happened, via some weird and as yet uncorrected universal typo, to be called tea. Real tea had body, and taste, and --
Her mumu thweeped the eighth of the hour.
"I suggest that you choose your breakfast quickly," Kamele said, and stalked past her to confront the kaf.
Two sharp jabs at the keypad, a flicker of lights
across the face screen, a hiss when the dispenser door slid up.
Kamele slid the tray out and carried it to the bar. Acrid steam
rose from the extra large disposable cup.
Theo wondered if kaf coffee tasted any better than
kaf tea, but it didn't seem like the time to ask. Instead, she
stepped up to the machine, punched one button for juice and another for
hot cereal, and very soon thereafter was sitting across from her mother
at the bar.
Kamele was drinking coffee, staring down into her
bowl so intently that Theo knew she couldn't actually be seeing
it. She sighed and dug into her own breakfast. Father and
Kamele both were prone to sudden fits of intense abstraction, when they
would simply ...step away from whatever it was they were doing to
pursue a certain fascinating thought. Theo guessed it came of
being a scholar and having so many interesting things to think about,
but it made for some pretty quiet dinners and breakfasts.
The cereal wasn't too bad, though it was sweeter
than she liked; the juice was room temperature and astringent.
Theo ate quickly, keeping an increasingly worried eye on her mother,
who continued to drink coffee and stare a hole into her cereal.
Theo cleared her throat.
"Early class this morning, Kamele?" she asked,
trying to sound bright and interested -- and hoping to bring her mother
to a realization that her cereal was getting cold.
Her mother glanced up, her eyes soft and not really focused.
"Yes," she murmured. "I do have the early
class this morning, Theo. Thank you for reminding me. I'd
best be on my way." She slid off the stool, carrying her
untouched bowl and the cup to the disposal.
Well, Theo thought, that didn't work, did it?
"Don't dawdle," Kamele said, pausing by her
chair. "I'll be a little late this evening -- there's a
meeting. If it looks like it's going long, I'll text you."
She bent and brushed her lips against Theo's cheek. "Learn well,"
she murmured, and was gone, moving quickly toward the receiving parlor,
her footsteps sounding sticky against the slick floor. Theo heard
the outer door chime and cycle.
This, she thought, finishing her cereal, is not
good. She sat back, reaching for the leg pocket where her mumu
rode. She'd just text a quick message to Father, and ask
him to --
Or, she thought, hand arrested above the pocket,
maybe not. For all she knew, Kamele wasn't speaking to Father,
and would refuse anything he sent to her.
Theo sighed. She hated not knowing what was going on.
Grumbling to herself, she stuffed the disposables
into the receptacle, shut the door to the kitchen, and glanced at her
watch. Still plenty of time to meet Lesset before class, if the
bus didn't run late.
"Bus!" she said out loud, and smacked fingertips
against her forehead. She didn't have to catch the bus
today. She lived inside the Wall now; school was just a belt ride
away.
"Great," she muttered, and slung her pack over her shoulder. "So I'll be early."
She was at the Team's usual table in the Ready Room,
working on the lace flower again, her tongue between her teeth as she
tried to figure out how to make it 3D and all one piece, when Lesset
breezed in -- and stopped, blinking.
"Theo! What are you doing here this early? Is something wrong?"
Theo frowned up at her. "If something was wrong, I'd be late, wouldn't I?"
"It would depend," her friend said reasonably, "on what was wrong."
"I guess." She sighed and reached for her
pack. "Actually, something is wrong. Kamele moved out of
Father's house. We're Mice now."
"You're living in the Wall? Really?" Lesset blinked, then grinned. "That's tenured!"
Theo eyed her sourly. "No, it's not." She bent to put her hook and thread away into her bag.
"Seriously tenured," Lesset insisted. "Where's your nest?"
"Quadeight Twobuild, right on the belt."
Lesset's grin went from wide to round. "Fact?"
"No, theory!" Theo snapped. "What'm I gonna do, make up the direction?"
"But that must be -- it's gotta be.... Chaos!"
Lesset sat suddenly on the chair next to Theo, her pack bumping the
table. And there she sat, staring through Kartor and Roni when
they came in. Kartor flopped into the chair next to Lesset, his
eyes pinned to the screen of his mumu. Roni dropped her bag on the
chair next to Theo and went over to Team Two's table, just like he
always did.
"Any time you're ready," Theo muttered, and Lesset turned to her, putting a quick hand on her arm.
"I'm sorry," she said, though she didn't sound
particularly contrite. "It just came to me that you're living --
you must be living in, you know -- her apartment."
Theo sighed, and wished she hadn't put her handwork away. "Her who?"
Lesset frowned. "Don't you ever read The Faq?"
The Faculty-Administration Quarterly carried the
daily university news -- lists, mostly. Lists of people who were
applying for grants. Lists of people who had gotten their
grants. Lists of people going on sabbatical. Lists of
people coming back from sabbatical. Changes of address.
Kamele said that once, in the long ago past, The Faq
really had only been published once a quarter, but the level of news
generated by such a large faculty and administration forced a more
frequent publication schedule. She read it, and Father, too,
though Theo thought they had different reading experiences.
Kamele called it The Faq or, sometimes, The News.
Father called it The Scandal Sheet.
"I skim it sometimes," Theo said, and made a face. "Bor-ing."
Lesset sighed and shook her head. "Information
is never boring," she said in a prim voice that made her sound exactly
like her mother.
"Long lists of names are boring," Theo answered. "You were going to tell me who her is."
"Well..." Lesset chewed her lip. "Professor Flandin -- the sub-chair of the History of Ed --"
"Lesset, I know who Professor Flandin is! Kamele's in EdHist!"
"All right, don't roar at me! How'm I supposed to know what you know?"
"I'm sorry," Theo said, noticing that her shoulders
had climbed up nearly to her ears. She relaxed them,
deliberately, and looked at her friend. "So you think we're in
Professor Flandin's apartment? Why? She go Topthree?"
"Topthree!" Lesset laughed and patted Theo's
arm. "You really don't read The Faq, do you? Professor
Flandin didn't get promoted. She got disbarred."
Having delivered this last in a penetrating whisper,
Lesset folded her hands on her knee, and gave a single, solemn nod.
"Disbarred?" Theo frowned. Now she came
to think about it, she'd heard something... "Falsifying data,"
she said, suddenly remembering. She looked at Lesset.
"She'd falsified the facts in her last two pubs."
Lesset smiled. "You do pay attention
sometimes! So, anyway, if Professor Waitley's been assigned
-- Quadeight's only two ramps down from Topthree! -- been assigned to
Professor Flandin's apartment, that must mean the dean approved her
temp-posting to sub-head. That wasn't in The Faq yet!"
"Maybe they're waiting to make the announcement at
the Faculty Meeting," Theo said, but she was thinking about Kamele --
Temp Sub-Head! -- and she hadn't said anything -- not a word.
That felt pretty bad, like Kamele didn't trust her. But, Theo
thought, her spirits rising considerably, if the temp appointment was
the reason Kamele had moved to the Wall then that meant they
could go home after it was over!
The knot in her stomach eased, and she looked up with a smile as the first whistle sounded.
"Time to go," Lesset said, as she and Theo rose and
shouldered their packs. Roni rushed over from Team Two's table,
and grabbed his pack. Kartor rose automatically, his attention
still on his mumu. "Professor Appletorn first thing is cruel and
unusual."
"He's not so bad."
"He's not so bad to you," Lesset retorted. "He doesn't loathe you."
"He doesn't loathe you, either," Theo said
reasonably, as the two remaining members of their Team caught up with
them, and they all six stepped onto the belt. "He's a
teacher. His job is to make sure you learn."
"I'm so tense in his class I don't think I'm
learning anything," her friend said, as they moved out of the Ready
Room. She shuddered.
That was serious, if true. Theo had noticed
that Lesset wasn't at her poised best in Professor Appletorn's class,
but if she was letting her tension get in the way of performance, that
was bad. She sighed.
Professor Appletorn taught Advertence, which was
core. If Lesset didn't pass, she'd not only pull the Team average
down, she'd have to repeat Fourth Form, and clear a higher achievement
bar, to cancel out the note in her file.
"Maybe you should talk to your mentor," Theo suggested.
"I did." Lesset sighed gustily. "She said I was learning how to deal with adverse conditions."
"Oh." said Theo.
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Sharon Lee
and Steve Miller are the authors of a dozen collaborative science
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Base page created December 1, 2006 by Sharon Lee
Chapter updated February 5, 2007
technical revision posted February5, 2007
Update March 15, 2008, 12:37 p.m. EDT
copyright © 2006-2007 by Sharon Lee and Steve Miller
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