Fledgling

It's kind of complicated


CHAPTERS
::
One 1/22/2007
::
Two 1/29/2007
::
Three 2/5/2007
::
Four 2/12/2007
::
Five 2/26/2007
::
Six 3/5/2007
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Seven 3/12/2007
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Eight 3/19/2007
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Nine 3/26/2007
Ten
4/2/2007
::
Eleven
4/9/2007

Twelve
4/23/2007
::
Thirteen
4/30/2007
::
Fourteen
5/07/2007












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 Thirteen


    "Thank you, Professor Waitley."  Sindy Clemens said gravely.  "I appreciate your time."
    "It's my pleasure," Kamele said sincerely.  "That's an interesting line of inquiry you're pursuing.  I'd very much like to see the completed project."
    Sindy smiled and ducked her head; she was a gifted researcher with a knack for slicing through airy euphemism and into the meat of the matter.  Unfortunately, her social skills were not as sharp as her intellect.  And she would soon, Kamele thought unhappily, watching the best student she'd had in her career walk out of the classroom, have to acquire the means to defend herself, or faculty politics would destroy her before she'd properly begun her work.
    Of course, Kamele acknowledged, as she packed up her 'book, Sindy might choose to go elsewhere to pursue her researches.  Many did.  On the other hand, the letters she had from her own mother, who had removed to Serpentine to take up the directorship of a moribund  program shortly after Theo was born, didn't encourage her to believe that a talent for pure scholarship was by itself enough to prosper in a community of scholars.
    She put her hand against the door to sign out and stepped into the hall, leaving the room to shut itself down. Kamele yawned as she walked toward the main hallway and the belt station.  The senior seminar was in the last class block of the day, and her consultation with Sindy Clemens had kept her another four eights beyond that.  At least Theo would have spent most of the evening with Jen Sar. 
    Kamele sighed, wishing she could have done the same.  It would have helped, just to talk over the recent rash of ...mess... as Theo styled it, with him.  Not only did he know how to listen, but he brought what was very nearly a woman's understanding to certain matters.  Talking to him, she had thought more than once, was like talking to a sister.
    However, as he was demonstrably not her sister, talking with him was a luxury that she certainly couldn't afford, not with Hafley just looking for a reason to bring all her decisions under review.   Ella had reported that the Forensic Committee was moving with unprecedented haste.  In fact, she was supposed to meet with Ella to --
    "Destruction!"
    Kamele yanked out her mumu, muted for the class period, grimaced at the reminder blinking on the screen, and touched Ella's quick-key.
    "I regret to inform you that Professor ben Suzan has perished while awaiting a call from her adored sub-chair --"
    "I'm sorry," Kamele interrupted.  "Sindy Clemens wanted my input on her latest research and I couldn't --"
    "Clemens scraped together enough courage to bring herself to your attention?"  Ella interrupted in her turn.  "Of course you needed to stay!"
    "To bring her work to my attention," Kamele corrected.  "The one hope I have for her eventual success is that she will dare much for her work."
    "That may be enough."
    "Geography," Kamele said darkly, "is everything."
    "Speaking of geography, I'm in my office, if you'd like to reschedule our meeting for right now, give or take the time it takes you to get here.  I'll get us some dark chocolate and coffee from the all-nighter."
    Kamele laughed as she rounded the corner to the beltway.
    "I have to teach tomorrow – and so do you!"
    "Bah.  I can give them a reading to parse.  And so can you!"
    The beltway was all but deserted.  She brought her mumu away from her ear, glanced at the time and shook her head.
    "It's late," she said.  "Let me apologize profusely and offer to meet with you over breakfast at Citations."
    "I must find what the sub-chair's draw is," Ella said musingly.
    "I'm sure Hafley will tell you if you ask, and then be very pleased to add that she thinks it improper for a temp sub to access those monies."
    "Oh, for --"  Ella sighed sharply.  "Come to the office, Kamele."
    There was something in her friend's voice that caught Kamele's ear.
    "It...can't... wait a few hours until breakfast?"  she asked tentatively.
    "I'd really rather it didn't."
    Kamele frowned, identifying that something all at once.  Ella was worried.
    "I'll be there soon," she said.  "Add a sandwich to the sugar and caffeine, will you?  I'm starving."

* *

    "All right."  Kamele sat in the visitor's chair in Ella's office, sipping all-nighter coffee, a yam-and-butter sandwich still in its wrapping on her knee.  "What is it that can't wait til breakfast?"
    Ella shook her head and pointed.  "Eat your sandwich; it'll wait that long."
    Kamele sighed, leaned forward and pushed a pile of infoslips aside so she could set her cup on a corner of Ella's spectacularly messy desk.  "I don't have a lot of time," she said, breaking the seal on the sandwich.  "Theo ..."
    "Yes," Ella said darkly.  "Exactly Theo."
    Kamele lowered the sandwich.  "You don't know me nearly as well as we both know you do if you think I'm going to quietly sit here and eat this dreadful thing while you glower over my daughter's name."
    "I'm not glowering over her name," Ella objected.  "As it happens, neither of my bits of news are particularly appetizing."
    Kamele frowned at her, raised the sandwich, and still looking directly into Ella's eyes, took a large bite.  It made the coffee seem like fresh roast.  She waved her hand at her friend and reached for the cup.
    "Well, if you will have it – Lystra Mason has given Theo's name to the Chapelia."
    Kamele inhaled – coffee, unfortunately.  By the time she'd gotten her breath back, Ella had twisted her sandwich into its wrappings and thrown the untidy ball at the disposal.  She missed.
    "Vile thing," she commented, though it wasn't clear if she meant the sandwich or the disposal.  She sipped her coffee and eyed Kamele.  "All right, now?"
    "No, I am not all right! Theo's name to the Chapelia?"  She pressed her lips together until she'd swallowed what she'd been about to say, and satisfied herself with,  "That woman is a fool."
    "Yes, but a vicious fool.  I happened to see her going into the Central Square Simple Circle and thought it odd enough to follow.  She made the request to the person on duty at the desk, and was even so kind as to spell 'Waitley' for him."
    "She's a child," Kamele said.  "She hasn't even had her Gigneri."
    "A child," Ella intoned.  "But steeped in the evils of complexity."
    "You're not helping."
    Her friend sighed.  "In that case, I will helpfully note that you are of course correct.  Theo is a child, and subject to the discipline and control of her mother.  Who, being the wise and sagacious woman I know her to be, will make a donation appropriate to the sin and see the Call struck."
    "Blasted nuisance," Kamele muttered.
    "Exactly – done with malice aforethought, deliberately to shatter your attention and undermine your scholarship.  Nothing that we haven't seen from Lystra before."  Ella pointed at the sandwich in Kamele's lap.
    "Are you going to eat that?"
    "No."  She rewrapped it untidily and threw it at the disposal, where it hit the rim and tumbled in.
    "Well, now that we've gotten that out of the way," Ella said brightly; "would you like to hear news of the forensic team?"
    Kamele eyed her.  "You know – something tells me that I don't."  She leaned back in the chair and waved.  "Go ahead.  Spoil a perfectly lovely evening."
    "If you insist."  Ella reached to her 'book and tapped a quick series of keys.   "Here we are..."
    "Despite the fact that our team has not been long on its quest, we have identified certain matters which are of are themselves unsettling, and, taken with the manner and type of manipulation performed by Professor Flandin, potentially dangerous to the entire academic structure of the University of Delgado.  While fully cognizant of the many and heavy demands on the time of Sub-chair Waitley and Professor Liaison ben Suzan, the forensic search team does most earnestly seek a private meeting at the earliest possible moment.  The committee holds itself ready to meet at any hour.  We have nothing on our schedules that is more pressing than this unfortunate and complex issue."
    Kamele closed her eyes.  Ella, uncharacteristically, was silent.
    "All right," Kamele said with a sigh.  "My office, tomorrow --"
    Ella cleared her throat.  "I'm sorry to wearisome, beloved, but, given the other hints and allegations in the committee's report -- which I have forwarded to you-- it might be best to meet somewhere...else."
    Kamele opened her eyes.  "Citations private parlor?"
    Ella nodded.  "I'll make the reservation for breakfast and let the search team know."
    "Thank you."  Kamele stood.  "I've got to get home, Ella.  Theo --"
    "Kamele," Ella interrupted; "about Theo..."
    "I'll handle the Simples tomorrow after --"
    "It's not just that," Ella interrupted again.  "It's – you can't afford this.  Not now."
    Suddenly cold, Kamele looked down into her friend's face.  "Ella --"
    The other woman raised her hands.  "Hear me out.  You have a lot on you right now:  Hafley's trying to discredit you; Mason's trying to discredit you – not to mention whatever has the forensic team in a panic.  You must appear solid, strong.  Purporseful.  Leaving Jen Sar was brilliant – absolutely the correct move.  And, while I don't expect that I do know how hard it was, I know that it was hard, yet you haven't wavered.  You've shown the world that you can step away from personal considerations and take up the mantle of a Scholar.  You have to take a similar step with Theo, or your work – all of your work and all of your care – is for nothing."
    "What," Kamele said quietly – too quietly, to judge by the way Ella's eyes widened, "would you have me do?"
    Her friend raised her hands and let them fall, fingers slapping the edge of the desk noisily. 
    "Play along with the Safety Office," she said, meeting Kamele's eyes defiantly.  "Accept the therapy."
    "You counsel me to drug my daughter."
    Ella's gaze never wavered.  "Six months.  Schedule her Gigneri on the first possible date.  Six months.  It's not so much, Kamele."
    "It's too much," Kamele answered, the cold feeling in her chest infusing her voice.  She picked up her 'book and turned toward the door.
    Ella's mumu whistled cheerfully.
    "Blast -- It's Crowley -- the forensic lead," Ella said, and then.  "This is serendipitous, Professor.  I was just preparing to call you to schedule a breakfast meeting tomorrow -- Now?"  She asked, sharply, and then said nothing.
    Kamele turned away from the door and watched as her friend's face tightened, lines appearing between her eyebrows.
    "Just a moment," she said eventually, and sounding much subdued.  "She's right here."  She tapped the mute key and looked up, making no attempt to hide her concern.
    "Crowley says it's just gone from bad to worse," she said tiredly.  "Apparently Flandin wasn’t just falsifying her cites; she was tampering with the accredited texts."
    "What?"  She walked two steps to the chair and sat down.  "Flandin didn't have an archivist's key."
    Ella sighed.  "Then it's all the more worrisome, isn't it?  What should I tell Crowley?"
    Kamele pulled out her mumu.  "Tell him five minutes in the forensic committee's research room.  Tell him I'll want to see everything.  I'll be with you as soon as I text Theo."   

* * *

    The little car zipped into the front drive, chasing the beams of its own headlamps up the twisty ramp.  Father accelerated through the last triplet of ever-tighter curves.  Theo laughed – and laughed again as the car sped toward the far wall and stopped just before its nose kissed ceramic.
    "Well!"  Father sounded like he was laughing himself.  "We're a sad pair of scamps, I fear, and deserve whatever scolding your mother cares to deliver."
    He touched the controls and the doors opened. 
    "She won't know you've been racing unless we tell her," she commented, reaching into the boot to retrieve her pack.
    "If only that were..."  he began – and stopped.
    Pack in hand, Theo looked at him, but he only murmured, "Well," and closed the boot, shifting his stick to his right hand as he turned.
    It was as she was turning to walk with him that she saw what might have given him pause.  A Simple in full regalia stood in a pool of red light next to the door, a book held open between mittened hands.
    "Theo," Father said quietly.  "Give me your mumu."
    It was almost, Theo thought, as if he were still in the driver's seat.  That level of awareness, but... sharper.  Not a time to argue, she judged, or to ask him why.  She pulled her mumu out and handed it to him.
    "Thank you.  Now, let us return you to your new home, where your mother will doubtless fall upon you with gladdened cries, while she heaps scorn upon the head of he who has led you along the paths of --"
    "I am shown a name!"  the Simple called out from the pool of red light.  The amplified voice hurt Theo's ears.  It was the same voice all the Simples had – sexless and without inflection.  Initiates accepted a talky-box implant; that's what she'd read.  It was supposed to facilitate their melding with the group.  Walking at Father's side, Theo wondered if it worked, and how it might feel to hear your voice coming from the mouths of everybody around you.
    "I am shown the name of one I am to follow!" the Simple called again.  "Theo Waitley!"
    "What!"  She stopped, felt a strong hand come under her elbow and move her along.
    "Don't stop," Father murmured.  "Don't stare.  Don't give them an advantage.  You are an honorable person going about your honorable, unexceptionable – and private – business."
    "Theo Waitley approaches!"  the Simple shouted.  "My work begins!"
    If it had been up to her, Theo would have run for the door then, but Father's hand on her elbow held her to a deliberate, unhurried walk.  The Simple stepped forward as they came into his pool of light and extended a mittened hand.
    "Theo Waitley."  The Simple's voice was quieter, which didn't, Theo was surprised to note, make it any more appealing.
    "I am on a mission of order," Father said, never slowing down.  "Do you await me here."
    "What mission?"  The Simple stepped into Father's path, and he, perforce stopped.
    "This minor child must be returned to her mother.  This blameless minor child."
    "Another of my order will escort her."
    "They will not," Father returned sharply.  "It is my duty and I will see it done.  Prevent me and you interfere with my Path."
    "What do you know of the Path, who goes uncovered and alone?"
    "The Path is the journey and the journey is the Teaching," Father said, seriously.  "Those whose feet are upon the Path must neither be brought aside nor delayed."   He tipped his head.
    "And," he continued, in a more conversational voice, "if your colleague at my rear and to the right does not cease her approach, regrettable things may happen.  I protect this innocent child with every means at my hand."  He hefted his cane, and ...smiled... at the Simple.
    "He has studied," came the voice – the same voice, but from behind them.  "Maybe he is on the Path."
    "Consult the Name-Keeper while you await my return," Father suggested cordially.  "Again, I escort this child to her mother."  Theo jumped as his hand landed on her arm, urging her to walk with him again.
    "Come, child."
    "Yes, sir," she said meekly, and concentrated on matching his pace exactly.  The back of her neck prickled and she wondered what the Chapelia were doing.
    "Do not," Father murmured, "look back."
    "What --" she began --
    "And do not speak until we're inside."
    The doors opened.  They passed beneath the Eyes and walked past the Safety Station, Father nodding to the woman on duty, as they mounted the belt for QuadEight.
    "What are you going to do if they're waiting for you when you go out?"  Theo demanded.
    He looked down at her, one eyebrow raised.  "Don't be silly, Theo.  I'll leave by another door."    
    "But your car!"
    "Is locked and its owner well-known.  The car will be quite safe."
    She took a breath. "How will you get home?"
    "The bus."  He gave her a grave smile.  "I will, of course, be in no danger."
    Theo knew better than to answer that.  Instead, she sighed slightly and asked.  "Could I have my mumu back now?"
    "Ah, yes.  How careless of me."  He pulled it out of his pocket and gave it to her.  "You are aware that your mumu – everyone's mumu – emits an ID?"
    "I'm not a kid," she said impatiently.  "And the Simple was just reading the IDs out of his book.  What I can't figure out is why he didn't realize you were carrying two mumus."
    " But, you see,” Father murmured,  "my ID emitter is...turned off."
    Theo blinked.
    "They turn off?"
    He sighed.  "Mind you, I don't say it's easy.  Is this our stop?"
    "Yes," Theo said, as the belt slowed.  She swung off, Father at her side.  "Would you have ...hurt...that Simple, really?  If she hadn't stopped."
    He looked down at her.  "Yes," he said seriously.  "I would have hurt her, really.  Liad, I fear, is a barbarous place, where people defend their honor and those who fall within it by any means, including physical force.  Even having been exposed for so long to the enlightened customs of Delgado, I find that I cannot wholly put these violent tendencies behind me."  He lifted an eyebrow.
    “You have now been fairly warned.  Do you wish to run away?”
    “From you?”  Theo shook her head.  “Don’t be a nidj, Father.”
    He cleared his throat.  “I will,” he said, so solemnly she knew that he was trying not to laugh.  “Do my best not to be a nidj, Theo.”
    He looked up and down the hall casually.
    "Which is your apartment?"
    "Right the--"  Her mumu warmed in her hands, and she glanced down, touching the screen.  "I've got a text from Kamele," she said, and felt the full weight of his attention fall on her.
    "Do you, indeed?  Does she wonder when I'll bestir myself to return you?"
    "No-oo..."  Theo read the text again.  Short as it was, it seemed...much less calm than Kamele's usual messages.  She looked up into Father's eyes.  "She says she has a very important meeting that can't be put off.  I'm to stay in, lock the door and not answer, if someone should ring."
    "Perhaps she has received news of the Chapelia's interest," he murmured. 
    "Looks like," Theo agreed, chewing her lip and glancing down to read the message a third time.  Would it be so bad, she wondered irritably, for Kamele to part with a little information?
    "Why?"  she said suddenly, looking up.  "Why did the Chapelia have my name in their book?"
    Both eyebrows rose.  "Theo, you astonish me."
    "No, I don't," she said shortly.  "You and Kamele are always telling me to question things."
    "Indeed, but the quality of the question must also count for something -- and yours have become ...most interesting.  So.  Shall you let me in and show me this rug Gorna Dail has sold you?"
    She considered him warily.  "I’d like that.  It's pretty late, though, and if you’re going to have to go all the way around to the East Door…”
    "It's scarcely late at all."  He interrupted with a smile.  "If you must have it, I crave a moment of Coyster's attention."
    "Oh!"  Of course he'd want to visit with Coyster, she thought, turning toward the door.   "Is it ...very lonely... with just you and Mandrin?"  She asked, putting her hand against the plate.
    "It is...quiet," he allowed, following her in to the apartment.  He glanced around the little hall while Theo locked the door.  When she turned back, he was looking down at Kamele’s rug.
    "I think she meant it to ...cheer the room up," Theo said awkwardly, unable to read the expression on his face.
    'I'm certain she did," he answered, his eyes still downcast.  "Well."  He swept a hand out, inviting her to lead on, and followed her down the hall.
    "This is very pleasant," he said a few moments later in her room, as they sat together on the rug.  Coyster was on his back between them, paws waving in ecstasy as Father tickled his belly.  "Ms. Dail has done well by you."
    "I hope so," Theo said, running her hand over the nap and watching the fascinating, waterlike flow from green to blue.  "Do you know how to bargain?"
    He grinned, and gave Coyster a final chuck under the chin.  "I do, but I think your mother would not thank me for teaching you the art at this point in your education.  First, master consensus and teamwork, then apply to me again."
    She grinned.  "Done!"
    He laughed.  "I see you came away not entirely unmarked."  He sobered.  "It is, as you mentioned, quite late.  Perhaps even late enough for a young student who has had a remarkably adventurous few days to seek some well-deserved rest."
    "I'm..."  Theo hesitated.  She was sleepy.   A little.  But  --
    "I think you ought to stay here," she said,  "until that Simple forgets about you.  And they probably put somebody on the East Door, too…”
    Father tipped his head, face serious, but she could see the smile in his eyes.  "Well, lacking appropriate encouragement, she's not likely to forget about me; nor are they likely to have forgotten the East Door.  Which is to say, that I agree with you.  I should, indeed, stay here for a while.  Thank you."
    She considered him, doubtfully.  "I -- "
    He raised a hand.  "No, Theo.  I am serious.  Thank you for your care."  He rolled to his feet, extended a hand and helped her up.
    "So," he said, smiling fully now.  "Shall we say next Oktavi, same time?"
    "Yes..."  She blinked and cleared her throat.  "Yes!"
    "Good."  He touched her cheek, ruffled her hair.  "Sleep well, child."


   
 
  

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Base page created December 1, 2006 by Sharon Lee
Chapter updated April 30, 2007
technical revision posted May 7, 2007
Update March 15, 2008, 12:06 p.m. EDT
copyright © 2006-2007 by Sharon Lee and Steve Miller