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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.
==============================================================
Chapter Twelve
Oktavi caught Theo curiously off-balance.
On the one hand, it had arrived with breathtaking
speed, but on the other, so much had happened that it seemed years
between the scavage game and the moment when she and the rest of the
Team were finally able to close their 'books and put learning behind
them for the day.
"See you tomorrow," Theo called generally, turning
down the hall that led to the cross-campus belt, her pace
increasing. She swung up onto the belt and winced as her bruised
ribs protested.
"Ow," she muttered, and shifted the bag over her shoulder.
"If you keep jumping around like that," a husky
voice said in her ear, "you're not going to give yourself time to
heal."
"Kartor." Theo turned her head. "It's just bruises," she said.
He nodded, settling his own pack. "But if the bones
are bruised, that's more serious than just surface bruises. Hurts
more. Takes longer to heal."
"I don't think the bones are bruised," Theo said. "The doctor didn't say so."
"You're lucky she didn't break your ribs," Kartor said darkly.
"Oh, I don't think she could've done that..."
"You don't? Roni's 'way bigger than you are and she had leverage. Do the math, Theo. I betcha the Review Board will."
He's really mad, Theo thought, throwing a glance at him. His face was so tense, she could see hard lines bracketing his mouth.
She bit her lip, not sure what to say to make him calmer. The scavage game had been days
ago, after all. If he was still upset about that -- and it seemed
like he was -- then he needed... Theo hesitated. He needed,
she thought, to talk to his mentor. But what , she thought then,
if Kartor's mentor was like Marjene?
Suddenly, Kartor shook his head, and gave her a
sideways look, the corner of his mouth twisting up in a kind of
lopsided grin.
"By the way, mind if I ride with you?"
"'course not," Theo said, surprised. Kartor's
mother worked in the Systems Group just off Central Station. He'd
ridden the belt with her that far on more than one Oktavi
evening.
"Notice how the team's been working much better the
last couple days?" he asked, and Theo eyed him, wondering if he
was going to try to pump her for details of the preliminary hearing,
like Lesset had.
That had been frightening and infuriating.
Roni's mother had immediately suggested that Theo be put into Remedial
Tutoring "for the good of the majority" until the Review Board had time
to rule. Breath caught, Theo'd waited, wondering around a feeling
of sick dread what her mother would say.
But Kamele had only put her hand on Theo's shoulder, and didn't say a thing.
The Review Chair, though, had looked over the top of
her glasses at Roni's mother, and said, her voice light and perfectly
pleasant, "The Committee has not yet done its work, Professor
Mason. However, if you feel that your daughter is at risk in the
Team environment, we will entertain a plea for a Safety Order, and a
place in Small Group Study until a ruling is made."
Roni's mother had gotten red in the face, just like
Roni did when she was upset, but she hadn't had much choice, since
she'd brought the issue up. She'd taken out the Safety Order,
which stipulated that Theo and Roni would stay away from each other
until the Committee ruled, and accepted a temporary place in Small
Groups for Roni.
That had been more than all right with Theo.
And, surprisingly, it had been all right with the rest of the Team,
too.
"We don't seem to be -- I don't know -- rushing so much," Theo said slowly, as the belt whisked them past Center Court Coop.
"We're not as worried," Kartor said
firmly. "I've been thinking about it, and you know what? I
think Roni's an -- an unacceptable strain on the Team."
Theo blinked. "You think the match program made a mistake?"
Kartor shrugged. "I know it's not supposed
to," he said. "My aunt's in Team Management, and she says the
algorithm's pretty solid. If that's true though -- then they put
Roni with us on purpose." He gave her an unhappy glance.
"Do you think they wanted us to fail?"
Theo thought about that as the belt slowed through
Central Station, remembering the sets protocol from math. Where did you put the set of all things that didn't match anything else?
"Maybe they just put all the misfits together," she said, and bit her lip when Kartor laughed.
"I didn't mean --" she started, face hot, but he held up a hand, still laughing.
"No, you're right! Look at us! Anj has
bad wiring in her on-off switch; Estan's lost without his rule book;
Roni has to tell everybody else what to do; Lesset's butter-brained,
and I'm a slacker. You're the only one who's normal!"
"Oh, I'm normal, all right," Theo muttered, but
Kartor was laughing too hard to hear. Somewhat miffed, she looked
out at the corridor, then swung back, pointing.
"Talk about being butter-brained -- you missed your intersection!"
Kartor shook his head. "No, I've got an extra, down in the senior seminar space."
Theo eyed him. "I thought you said you were a slacker."
He grinned at her. "Yeah, but I'm not stupid."
They rode for a few minutes in silence, before Theo's curiosity got the better of her.
"So, what's your extra?"
Kartor looked down at the belt, like he was suddenly
embarrassed, then looked back her. "You won't laugh at me," he
said, and took a deep breath. "Etiquette."
"Etiquette?" Theo blinked. Etiquette was pre-team. Kartor couldn't be doing a make-up on that, could he? And then she remembered the other thing he'd said --
"The senior seminar room," she said out loud, and
looked at him. Kartor looked back -- warily, she thought, like he
wasn't sure after all that she wouldn't laugh. "You're taking Traveler's Etiquette? With Professor Sandaluin? Kartor, that's a restricted senior seminar!"
"Well, I'm only auditing," he said, sounding apologetic. "It is
supposed to be restricted, but my mentor applied for me to sit in
without grades, as long as I keep up. If I do all right,
Professor Sandaluin'll give me a letter, and that's really all I need,
'cause I'm going to have to pass the corporation's training, anyhow,
after I'm accepted."
"Accepted where?" Theo asked.
Kartor's grin was tight at the edges, his voice a
little too bright. "I'm going to get a job on the station."
Theo thought about that. Kartor's family was
only accidentally academic. His mother, his aunt, and his oldest
sister were all in Information Systems. They had more of a knack
for doing than for teaching -- she'd overheard Professor Grinmordi say
so, but not like she thought having a knack for doing was a particularly good thing.
"Doesn't your mother expect you to go into Systems?"
He shrugged, uncomfortably, Theo thought. "My
firstap's been accepted, and I'm scheduled for the aptitude test at
Interval." He shrugged again. "Ilsa's Gigneri's coming up,
and my mother's pretty involved in that. I told her about the
aptitude test and she said it might be good if I was out from under
foot for a couple days."
"The aptitude test is on-station?"
He nodded. "The corporation tests in groups
over the Interval, so it's not like I'll be unsupervised. And if
I can get that letter from Professor Sandaluin, that'll be a good note
to have in my file!"
"It sure will," Theo agreed, remembering Father's
comments about the professor in question. "She expects
perfection, is what I heard."
Kartor shrugged again. "She's no worse than
Appletorn," he said. "And I don't need a letter from him."
He looked around, hitching his bag on his shoulder. "I get off
here."
"Me, too."
They swung off the belt together and strolled down
the long hallway, red, green, orange, and blue status lights twinkling
at each door.
"Here's my stop," Theo said, turning right toward the door marked Jen Sar Kiladi, Gallowglass Chair.
As she approached, the status light snapped out. The door opened and
the man himself stepped out, carrying his stick in one hand and his bag
in the other.
"Theo," he said gravely, then looked to her companion. "Good evening, Mr. Singh."
"Professor Kiladi." To Theo's astonishment,
Kartor bowed, wobbling a little because of the bag over his shoulder,
and straightened.
One strong black eyebrow rose. "Ah." He
returned the bow, fluid and effortless despite his own burdens, and
straightened while Kartor considered him ruefully.
"I see that I've got to work on my timing," he said wryly.
"Indeed. But you must be of good heart. I swear to you that the thing can be learned."
Kartor grinned. "Thanks," he said, and raised a hand. "I'll see you tomorrow, Theo."
"See you tomorrow," she answered, and turned to
watch him walk away, in his loose-jointed careless way. She
turned back to a pair of noncommittal black eyes in a perfectly
composed face, and had time to wonder what she'd done that was interesting before he inclined his head.
"Where shall you like to eat this evening, Theo?"
She hesitated, biting her lip, not knowing whether she should even ask...
"Speak," he said lightly. "If the scheme is
more than my aged self can embrace, be certain that I will tell you so
immediately. My sense of self-preservation is strong."
"All right," Theo said carefully. "I'd like to
--" she cleared her throat. "I wonder if we can't just go -- go
hom-to your house and have toasted cheese sandwiches and tea?"
He tipped his head, eyes slightly narrowed, then nodded.
"A rigorous course, but I believe I may withstand
it," he said calmly, motioning her to walk with him. "If we stop
at the fresh air market on our way, we might also have a salad, if
you'd like it."
Theo let go the breath she'd been holding. "I'd like that," she said. "Very much."
"Then that is what we shall do." They turned
right into the service hall that led to the tiny faculty parking
bay.
"Does your friend aspire to anthropology?"
Theo blinked. "Kartor? No..." She
sighed and shifted her bag, wincing. "He's auditing Traveler's
Etiquette. He wants to get a job on the station."
The click of the stick against the surface of the
hall echoed oddly, almost as if he'd used it to punctuate something
he'd thought instead of said. His words, when they did come were
fluid and thoughtful.
"Does he indeed? But surely his mother will want him with her in Systems."
"I think his mother is...more concerned with his
sisters," Theo said slowly. "It sounds like, from things he's
said, that she doesn't much care what he does, as long as he
doesn't...get into trouble."
"Well, you mustn't blame her for that. I
believe that many parents wish for their off-spring to be as
trouble-free as possible."
Theo bit her lip, and the two of them strolled down
toward Father's pride-and-joy –the car he delighted in describing to
new acquaintances as a "burnished green neo-classic rally coupe."
Some of his new acquaintances returned from his
show-off ride smiling, others...did not. But he was serious about
his joy, and periodically did engage in events put on by Delgado's only
road rally club.
"How have you occupied your time during the last few
days, Theo?" he asked, opening the little car's boot.
Theo slid her pack off and put into the boot next to his bag, then straightened and met his eyes.
"I haven't exactly been trouble-free," she confessed.
"Splendid!" He gave her one of his brilliant
grins, slammed the boot, and waved her to the passenger's side.
"You must tell me all about it."
Theo slid into the low seat, snapped the safety
restraint into place, then sat with her hands in her lap, chewing her
lip. This was, she thought dismally, going to be hard.
She'd tried to prepare; reasoning it out, reminding herself
that she had been willfully ignoring social cues, like Coyster
pretending that he couldn't see a bowl full of substandard cat
kibble.
You've got to do this, she told herself; you can't keep on not calling him anything,
and besides, it's probably ...upsetting to him to be called Father when
he's not anymore, really, and he's just been too kind to say so.
That this particular sort of kindness was scarcely a
hallmark of the gentleman's personality did not occur to her until she
had licked her lips and made herself say, "Professor Kiladi?"
He turned his head, one eyebrow raised.
"Dear me," he murmured. "I apprehend that I
have fallen into your black book, Theo. You must tell me how."
Theo considered him warily. "Black book?" she repeated.
"Ah." He inclined his head. "The
reference is to a notebook in which the names of those who have done
one a mischief are recorded. Allow it to be one of those quaint
off-world customs of which Delgado does not partake."
"Delgado doesn't seem to partake of many off-world customs," Theo commented, thinking of Gorna Dail.
"Yes, but it has a plenitude of its own." He
settled back into his seat without pressing the starter switch.
"That was a very credible attempt to change the
subject. My congratulations. Now, if you please: Professor Kiladi?"
She took a breath and met his eyes. "I -- Marjene
said that, since you're not Housefather now, I -- that it's antisocial
to...to call you 'Father'."
"Marjene." He made her name sound almost
comically musical, and then he sighed. "All is explained.
And yourself?"
She blinked. "Pardon me?"
"Do you find Marjene's argument resonates with you?"
"Well...I -- no!" she said suddenly. "I mean, she's right -- I've been ignoring a social cue. And that's not ...honest. But, if I'm being honest, I'd rather not call you Professor Kiladi, unless -- unless you'd rather I did."
"I am compelled to meet honesty with honesty:
I'd rather you didn't." He touched the starter. The car
shifted slightly as the engine engaged, like it was a live thing that
gone from sleep to alert. Father, too, went through that change –
as if being in the driver's seat brought him to a higher level of
awareness. Eyes front, he scanned the parking bay, and when he
spoke, his voice was full of gravity.
"Theo. Far from being offended, I would be
honored if you chose to continue addressing me as 'Father.' If,
after due reflection, you find that you cannot in propriety allow it,
then I suggest 'Jen Sar' as comfortable for us both." He flicked
a quick, dark glance at her. "Is that plain?"
Chest tight, she nodded.
"Good. Unfortunately, and as much as it
costs me to say so, Marjene's appeal to local custom is
legitimate. Our relative positions being what they are, I see no
choice but that Professor Kiladi must be fielded when we meet in
public. I would consider it a kindness if you do not invoke him
often."
That made sense, thought Theo, and formed a workable
compromise. She could be comfortable, and so could Marjene and
Lesset.
"All right," she said, and, with a vast feeling of relief, and smiled. "Father."
"Hah." He put the car into motion with a
touch. "Is that the awful whole, or is there more to your
not-exactly-trouble-free existence?"
Theo sighed, her momentary glow of comfort
fading. "There's more," she said dolefully. "A lot
more. And worse."
"You must not keep me in suspense a moment longer,
then! If you please, the round tale -- and leave no detail
unturned. I must have it all!"
* * *
There was a House Rule against talking about
"critical matters" during the making and the eating of meals.
"Too much angst curdles the milk," is what Father used to say.
When she's lived in the house, Theo had thought that
particular rule was ...stupid, especially since Father's rulings on
what was serious and what wasn't tended to be frivolous. In her
opinion.
This evening, though, she was glad of the
rule. She'd told out the whole story of the last few days during
the ride from the Wall. Father had listened, quietly, but with a
worrisome sort of...immediacy, like he was experiencing everything she told him. She'd never felt anything like it from him -- not anger, exactly, but --
She wasn't really sure.
Whatever it was, she was glad to be free of it for
dinner prep. She set the table -- the blue-and-white dishes
and the faded blue cloth napkins, on the little table in the corner of
the kitchen, next to the window that looked out over the garden.
Father was tending the sandwiches. Theo got
out the wooden bowl, swooped Mandrin from the work counter onto a
nearby stool, and mixed the greens together.
Across the kitchen, Father reached for the
spatula. It slid out of his fingers, skittering away almost like
it was alive. In her mind's eye, Theo saw it twirl and arc for
the floor. She turned away from the salad, slid forward and snatched
with her left hand, catching the spatula the instant before it hit the
floor.
"My thanks," Father said solemnly, receiving it from her hand.
"Welcome," she answered, and got back to the work
counter just in time to yank the bowl out from under Mandrin's nose.
"Cats are carnivores," she said, reaching for the
oil. "That means you don't eat vegetables; you eat kibble."
"And the occasional toasted cheese sandwich," Father
added. "You are a pampered house-bound creature, Lady Mandrin,
who has never known the bounty of the land, or the joy of dining on
fresh-caught rodent."
"Father!"
He shot her a wicked look. "Does your appetite
desert you? Will I be forced to eat two toasted cheese sandwiches
all by myself?"
"You don't get mine that easy!" Theo told him,
though, in fact, the idea of Mandrin eating a rodent did make her feel
a little queasy. Well, the trick was not to think about it.
She shook her head, finished mixing the greens and carried bowl and
tongs to the table, then took the sandwich plates to the grill, where
Father bestowed a golden brown, and slightly sticky sandwich on each.
At the table, Mandrin was Inspecting, her back feet
on Theo's chair and her front feet set daintily between the silverware.
"You're more trouble than Coyster," Theo said,
unceremoniously dropping her to the floor. Whether it was the
insult of being compared to a cat so much her junior and orange,
besides, or Theo's continuing interruptions of her business, Mandrin
stalked off, the tip of her tail twitching.
Theo grinned, the teapot hooted and she turned back,
only to find Father ahead of her, reaching up to the shelf where the
cups were kept. He grabbed one, but jostled the cup next to it,
which spun, wobbled and danced dangerously toward the edge.
Father had already turned away. Theo jumped forward, and caught the
dancing cup just as it leapt for the floor, then did some dancing
herself, to keep from knocking into counter or stool.
"That was close!" she said.
Father looked at her over his shoulder, and plucked
the cup out of her hand with a murmured thanks. Theo frowned at
his back.
"Are you all right?" she asked, which got her
another over the shoulder glance, as incurious as the first.
"Perfectly. Why do you ask?"
"Well," she said, following him to the table.
"You dropped the spatula and knocked the cup off -- and you never drop things!"
"Ah." He set their cups down and slid into his
seat. Theo sat across, watching his face as he surveyed the table.
"This is very pleasant. It wants only some flowers, but in this season..."
"Father."
He looked at her, his face perfectly composed.
"I'm a little tired, child. Nothing to signify. Thank you
for suggesting the meal and the venue. Excellent choices, both."
She smiled. "I think so, too."
"We have an accord. Excellent. Eat, do!"
Theo took a bite of her sandwich and sighed aloud in
sheer bliss, her eyes on the garden, where the shadows were already
growing out from the walls. She had another bite, served herself
some salad and continued to eat while on his side he talked about the
weather and how it had been a bit too dry for the sinneas to get a good
start, though there was a persuasive front on the way which he hoped
might deliver rain overnight...
It wasn't until Theo had finished her dinner,
feeling calm and almost sleepy that she realized what he'd been doing.
"I'm not Kamele!" she said, interrupting a
discursive wondering about whether the hedge on the southern side
should be removed or simply trimmed.
He blinked, searched her face earnestly, and inclined his head. "I concur. You are not Kamele."
"You're talking to me just like you do -- did -- when Kamele would get upset..."
"...and require some assistance in achieving
calmness," he finished, and set his tea cup down decisively.
"Consider it a service of the house. Are you done with your
meal? Would you like more tea?"
"I'm done with my meal," Theo said, and pushed back
her chair. "I'll get some more tea, after I clean up --"
"Leave it," he said peremptorily. "I suggest
we adjourn to the common room. We will wish to be comfortable for
this."
* *
"Let us, by your kindness, deal with the simplest
matter first," he said some minutes later from his accustomed chair
next to the fireplace.
Theo nodded, and sipped her tea, wondering what was simple about any of her recent messes.
"It seems Ms. Kant has been very busy on your
behalf." He settled back in his chair, tea cup cradled in long
fingers. "We shall leave for the moment the question of whether
she has been too busy and if, indeed, it is your welfare which concerns her."
The blinked. "Marjene's supposed --" she began, and stopped when he raised his hand.
"I have read the same information you have, Theo;
though I have perhaps drawn different conclusions, old cynic that I
am. To continue: Have you been pursuing the citations your
mother has given to you?"
"Yes!" Theo assured him. In fact, she'd
read the information with an increasing feeling of alarm. Even
the mildest descriptions of the various recommended drugs seemed to
promise terrifying side-effects, up to and including slight, though
apparently permanent, cognitive impairment.
"And has Marjene also shared her information with you?"
Theo snorted. "I read the information the Safety
Office has on file. It's like they either haven't done their
research, or they chose to ignore contrary information..."
"...in the service of the greater good," Father
finished, with the air of quoting someone who was not exactly in good
taste. "You'll find, I think, that Delgado has a bias toward the
greatest safety for the greatest number."
"Kamele says that the Founders...made a mistake,"
Theo said tentatively, belatedly thinking that the relationship of this
comment might not be as plain to him as it was to her.
Father, however, only cocked his head
slightly. "Does she, indeed? She had used to walk out only
so far as undue optimism. In any wise -- you will find
that Delgado errs on the side of the most safety for the great
number. It is therefore up to you, and to such trusted advisers
as you may gather to you, to protect yourself and your interests which
may, indeed, not always be either safe or best for all."
Theo blinked. "I don't think I --"
Father raised a hand, the twisted silver ring
glinting. "The rules of society strive to make it possible for
individuals to work together in harmony. There is, however,
always a tension between the rules imposed by society and the
necessities accepted by individuals. When that tension fails, the
society declines and the individuals become at risk."
She thought about that, while Father finished his
tea and put the empty cup on the side table. Mandrin jumped into
his lap and he stroked her, waking amazingly loud purrs.
"I consider you to be one of my ...trusted advisers.." she said slowly, mentally adding, despite what Marjene says.
He inclined his head. "You honor me," he said gravely.
She eyed him, suspecting sarcasm, or at least irony. "That doesn't mean you're not annoying."
He laughed. "Entirely the opposite, in my
experience!" He shook his head. "Please, I am
serious. You honor me with your trust and I will strive to be
worthy of it."
"All right." She tasted her tea, which was
cold, and put the cup on the table. "I intend to do my own
searches, but – based on what I've read so far, I..." She took a
breath and met his eyes, which was both easier and harder than keeping
Marjene's gaze.
"My preliminary finding is that...accepting even the
therapy the Safety Office lists as 'mild' is...not a good idea."
She paused.
Father tipped his head, waiting for her to go on.
"What I want to ask, is what you think I should do,"
Theo said, suddenly plaintive. "Roni's mother already wants me in
Remedial, the Safeties think I'm a menace, and so does Marjene.
I've got to stop hurting people, or the Safety Office is going to call up Kamele for harboring an unsafe condition, and that's just not – I can't do that!"
"Ah. I see that you have been doing your
research. You are correct; additional pressure can be brought to
bear, through your mother. I believe you are wise to think
pro-actively in this case." Father sighed and rubbed Mandrin's
ears.
"My suggestion," he said eventually, "is that you take up dance."
Theo blinked. "Dance?"
"It may, for the moment at least, answer the call
for rehabilitation," he said slowly, "and give you and your mother time
to plan a strategy. It would seem that simply holding line until
you are considered old enough to speak on your own behalf may no longer
be possible."
"Why?"
He looked up and gave her a brief smile.
"Because you have achieved enemies – people who actively wish you harm,
as distinct from those who would cause you harm out of a sincere, if
misguided concern for your safety."
"Roni?" Theo asked, thinking that enemy sounded so...serious. "But Roni's only a kid."
"True. However, Roni's mother – is not."
Theo stared.
Father bent forward to put Mandrin on the
floor. He stood, in one of his flowing, effortless moves, and
smiled down at her.
"Be easy, child. You have your own corps of
adults to defend you. And yours, may I say, are somewhat more
able than the honored Professor Mason."
The mechanical clock in his study called ninebells,
its chimes echoing through the house like an old and comfortable
voice. Theo's eyes filled.
"I wish I could stay," she said, knowing she couldn't.
"I wish you could stay, too," he answered, softly.
He held a hand down to her. "I'm afraid I've
kept you too long," he said suddenly brisk. "Come along."
Theo let him pull her to her feet, like she had when
she'd been a little kid. She went in search of Mandrin, finding
her sprawled on the table among the dinner dishes.
"You are so bad," she said, and skritched the
black-and-white chin. "I'll see you soon." Mandrin sighed
and squeezed her eyes shut wearily. Theo grinned and followed
Father out to the yard.
"I hope you don't mind a ride in the dark," he said, as he strapped in.
"Oh, no!" she assured him. "It'll be much more comfortable than the late bus!"
She felt his glance in the darkness.
"Have you taken the late bus recently, Theo?" he asked politely.
Nidj! she scolded herself; but there was nothing for it but to tell him, now.
"I went to Nonactown to buy a rug," she said, "and took the bus back."
"How exciting your life has become, to be sure!" he
said lightly, guiding the car out into the dark street. "I'd be
interested in your impressions of the long route, if you would honor
me."
Kamele's already grounded you, Theo thought; he really can't do anything worse.
Except give her one of his quiet, incisive lectures that were always, somehow, much worse than Kamele's.
And it's not, she admitted, like he wouldn't have cause.
She took a breath as the car swept 'round the corner of Leafydale Place and told him about the bus ride.
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Base page created December 1, 2006 by Sharon Lee
Chapter updated April 9, 2007
technical revision posted April 9, 2007
Update March 15, 2008, 12:07 p.m. EDT
copyright © 2006-2007 by Sharon Lee and Steve Miller
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