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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 Fourteen
With thanks to Donna Gaudet
for naming the planet Melchiza
The coffee in the research room was fresh-brewed. Kamele sipped hers and sighed aloud. Someone on the forensic team had her priorities straight.
Unfortunately, the pleasure of real coffee was
negated by the methodical unveiling of data in the shared space at the
center of the table.
"As you can see," Professor Crowley murmured,
tapping the light keys, "we have located no further discrepancies
between Professor Flandin's publications and the material she
cites. Everything, in fact, checks perfectly, and the committee
had all but achieved a consensus accepting that the two...erroneous
citations which were the cause of her disbarring were the only two
incidents in existence."
Kamele sighed quietly, sipped coffee and recruited
herself to patience. To judge from the patient expressions of his
two team members, Professor Crowley was one who must tell the thing in
whole and in order. And who for all of that, she thought, would
not have insisted upon a meeting right now only to say that the committee had found there was nothing to find.
"In fact," Crowley continued, "the committee was
well on its way to declaring that there was nothing else to find.
It was only..."
"It was only," Professor Emeritus Beltaire spoke
up from her seat at the far end of the table, "my own vanity,
colleagues, that led us to explore what at first appeared to be the
most minor part of Professor Flandin's work: an encyclopedia
entry on the subject of Vazinty pelinTrayle."
"The Saint of Panvine?" Ella sounded startled,
as well, Kamele thought, she should. The Saint had been
...opposed to the diversity of thought which the university at Delgado
– for instance – held to be the treasure of higher learning.
To put it mildly.
"The so-called Saint," Professor Beltaire said
dryly. "As it happens, I have the dubious honor of being enclosed
by the pelinTrayle phulon. When the Beltaire patriarch embraced
schism as preferable to genocide, he wisely brought away such papers,
documents, and primary sources as he could lay hand to – for
protection, you understand, should he need to secure for his jenos a
patron strong enough to withstand what blandishments Vazinty might
make." She smiled.
"As it happens, Vazinty shortly had many more
problems to deal with than the repatriation of an errant jenos.
Beltaire settled upon Melchiza and eventually the original papers
passed into the House of Planetary Treasures there." She paused
to sip coffee. "Before surrendering them, the patriarch of course
made copies, which the jenos retained, as part of our history and
heritage. Eventually, the patriarch's great-granddaughter, who
naturally had access to the group's history, became, more by accident
than design, an expert on Vazinty pelinTrayle."
She raised her cup again. Professor Crowley
folded his hands, his eyes dreaming on the cluttered shared space.
"So," Kamele said to Professor Beltaire, "you were
uniquely placed to recognize an error in the relevant citation."
The elder scholar nodded. "Indeed I was, and I
flagged the passage. Imagine my... surprise... when Professor
Able --" she nodded at the last member of the committee, who appeared
to be napping with her eyes open – "told me that the cite matched...in
every particular."
Kamele put her cup on the table.
"An error of memory, perhaps?" Ella murmured. "Even an expert is sometimes mistaken."
"My precise thought was something less gentle
regarding the memories of old women, but – yes," Professor Beltaire
said. "Cursing my failing faculties, I checked my hardcopies..."
"She can't have altered the source documents!" Kamele protested.
"But she did just that," Professor Able spoke up,
apparently not napping, after all. "I have no idea how she did
it, but I went through those documents line by line, comparing every
word, and – the library sources have been altered. Only a little;
nothing more than a few words; sometimes only a point of punctuation."
"Nothing important," Professor Crowley said, leaning back in his chair, and looking 'round the table at them. "Taken in isolation."
"In sum, however," Professor Beltaire murmured,
"these...corrections... draw a portrait of Delgado and Panvine
standing...much closer together, philosophically, than we know to be
the case, and, indeed, suggests that the current head of the Panvinian
Administration is an adviser to the Delgado Board of Trustees."
"What?" Kamele looked at Ella,
discovering an expression of bewildered outrage on her face that was
probably, Kamele thought, a mirror of her own. She sighed and
leaned forward, pressing her palms against the cool surface of the
table as she ordered her thoughts.
"What I hear the committee say is that there is
strong evidence that a ...series? of source documents have been
tampered with. Leaving aside for the moment the how, I would ask why."
Professor Able shook her head. "Flandin is the
person to give the definitive answer to that. Unfortunately, we
let her go without first asking the question."
"And why – though compelling – does not fall within
the scope of this committee's work," Professor Crowley. "We were
charged to survey the literature in order to ascertain if
other...scholarly transgressions had been made which might damage the
university. Evidence of such tampering has, alas, been
discovered."
Professor Beltaire shook her head. "I
disagree. What this committee has discovered is a discrepancy
between the documents maintained by the research library and the
documents held in private by an acknowledged expert. It is worth
noting, colleagues, that both sets of documents are – copies."
"Certified copies!" Able corrected.
"As you say. But copies nonetheless.
There is room for doubt. The copies are demonstrably not
identical. What we cannot demonstrate from where we sit is –
which set has been altered."
“Surely your reputation guarantees your own copies!” Able exclaimed.
Professor Beltaire shook her head. “The
college does not rest on my reputation, but upon its own,” she said
austerely. “We have two copies of the same document which are not
identical. As scholars, we must look at facts.”
There was silence in the team room. Kamele
closed her eyes, but she still felt the weight of her colleagues'
regard. She was sub-chair; this investigation was her
responsibility, begun for the best and most noble of reasons. The
reasons for carrying through had just become...an imperative. If
a whisper that Delgado's closest held records had been altered escaped
into the academic universe...
"I understand and value your argument," she said
slowly, opening her eyes. She let her gaze go round the table,
touching the face of each in turn: Beltaire grimly amused, Able
only grim; Crowley resigned; Ella plainly horrified.
"I'd be interested in hearing the committee's
suggestions for a ...quick and quiet resolution of this situation."
"Quiet is going to be difficult," Able said, "but we can certainly find the proper public relations angle..."
"Before the matter becomes a public relations problem, there must be an absolute determination," Crowley said sourly. "Both sets of copies must be compared to the original."
"I agree," Beltaire said crisply. "If it is found that Delgado's archival copy has been compromised, then
it is time for public relations to bake us an airy confection, and for
the university to purchase a comprehensive doc-check of the entire
research library."
Kamele's stomach sank. The cost! And
yet, the cost – if students stopped coming to Delgado, if the results
and facts reported by Delgadian scholars were automatically assumed
erroneous...
"Where are the original documents?" she asked Beltaire.
The old woman smiled. "Why, they're
still safely locked up in the treasure house on Melchiza, Professor
Waitley. My homeworld."
***
She is not ready!
Horror – hers, though it scarcely mattered – flooded
him. He closed his eyes and spun a Rainbow; the very first thing
taught to hopeful scoutlings, and perhaps the most useful.
Together, he and Aelliana relaxed into the benevolent colors.
"Tell me," he murmured, when his heartbeat had
steadied; "upon what day and hour did I become a monster?"
Aelliana sighed. If you bring her Gigneri forward...
"...which I will only suggest if it transpires that
I have accurately recalled a particular bit of trivia I once read while
in pursuit of something else entirely. It could be that I am
mistaken; and in any case, the final word rests with Kamele – in whom I
believe you repose complete confidence?"
I repose complete confidence in no one, Aelliana stated with an airy bravado that almost had him laughing aloud.
"If I might have a moment's peace in which to pursue my research?" he murmured quellingly.
Certainly, his lifemate replied, and faded from his awareness.
* * *
She had the entirety of the committee's notes,
recommendations and matches in her 'book. She had Ella's promise
to get them in the same room tomorrow morning with Hafley, the forensic
team, and the Dean of Faculty, utilizing whatever means seemed good to
her. She had a hastily downloaded schedule of Quester's Fees, and
the location of the nearest Simple Circle.
She also had a bottle of deplorable wine from the
QuadEight all-nighter, with which she hoped to counteract the jitters
bestowed by adrenaline and too many late-night cups of coffee.
Her hair had come loose and was wisping into her
eyes. She shook her head, which of course only resulted in
bringing the rest of it down around her shoulders. Well, the door
to the apartment was scarcely six steps away. She'd be inside
before she frightened the neighbors.
The at-home light was dark. Kamele blinked, heart suddenly in her mouth.
Theo wasn't back yet? Surely, Jen Sar wouldn't have kept her this late! What --
She slapped the lock without any memory of having
crossed the intervening distance. The door opened, she swept
inside -- and stopped.
Jen Sar looked up from his studious perusal of his
mumu. A smile glinted in the dark eyes, though the rest of his
sharp-featured face was grave.
"Good evening, Kamele. Theo asked me to stay."
She let our her breath all at once, and raised a
hand to shove her hair back. "She's home, then. The door --"
"Forgive me. I felt it reasonable, in light of
...certain events... that the door be persuaded to something less than
complete candor," he said. Despite the rote 'forgive me' he was
unapologetic as always for his tampering. "I'll put it right
before I leave, if you wish."
"I – don't know," she said shortly. "Jen Sar. We have to talk."
"Indeed we do." He rose, neat and
supple; his grace making her feel even more disheveled and grubby,
until he laughed.
"Come now, I've had an hour to sit and recoup my
strength after an evening with your daughter, while you are obviously
new-come from some chancy venture." He gave her a grin, head
tipped to one side. "Shall I take charge of the wine while you
refresh yourself? My topic will wait, if yours will."
A shower, her robe, and, after, wine in the garden with the stars spread above like some fantastical tapestry -- Kamele sighed, and handed him the bottle.
"That is, hands down, the best thing anyone has said to me today."
His eyebrows rose as he took the bottle. "A
chancy venture, indeed," he murmured, so seriously that she had to
laugh, though it sounded a little high in her own ears.
"I'll be out soon," she said, moving toward the hallway and her room.
Jen Sar moved his shoulders. "You needn't rush
on my account. I'll sit here quietly and plan my retreat."
That brought her around to frown at him.
"Jen Sar?"
He looked up from reading the label on the wine bottle, face attentive.
"Why," Kamele asked, "did you gimmick the door?"
"Ah. Because the Chapelia have Theo's name and
I was not at all certain that they would not come here, since we had
thwarted them at the gate. While your instruction that Theo not
answer the door was sage, I felt it would be far less fatiguing for all
if the door merely ...discouraged visitors."
Kamele felt her shoulders sag. "I didn't
expect them to be that – wait!" She reviewed their conversation
thus far, and unhappily concluded that at no time had he said that her daughter was home. "Where," she said firmly, "is Theo?"
He sighed, deeply. "It is my fate to be found a despoiler of youth."
"Does that mean she's with some Simple, being --"
"It means the child's asleep in her bed, with her
cat on her pillow," he interrupted sharply. He threw his arms
wide, abruptly theatric. "I am altogether cast down and
forlorn. Who could have supposed but that I would have been so
incompetent as to allow a brace of unranked Simples to bear a child of
my house away from beneath my very nose?"
Kamele took a breath and tried to look stern. "How much did you pay them?"
He gazed at her reproachfully. "Kamele, the
exigencies of the day have disordered you. Surely you are aware
that a mere male cannot buy a minor child from the Simples. That
is for her mother to do."
"Yes..." she said, with strained patience. "So why didn't the Simple 'escort' her?"
"Because the Simples believe me to be Theo Waitley," he said, and folded his hands before him.
Kamele closed her eyes. Opened them.
"I'm going to take a shower," she said, enunciating every word clearly.
"An excellent idea," he answered gravely, and gave her a small bow.
* *
Kamele entered the room carrying a tray on which
reposed a cheese-and-cracker assortment from the kaf. Jen Sar
looked up and she smiled, simply glad to see his sharp, clever
face.
“It came to me in the shower that we have several
things to talk about,” she said stepping forward. He had poured
wine; the glasses and opened bottle took up most of the space on the
small table where she had planned to put the snack tray.
“It appears that I’ll be …traveling soon.
Also, there’s the immediate issue of Theo’s… agility… and the
unexpected consequences.” She shook her head. “I’m afraid I
need to apologize for my daughter; she’s a trial to you – even at a
distance!”
“Oh, nonsense. She's a joy to us both, as you well know.”
He rose, offering his seat to her with a polite motion.
She shook the offer off, mouth half-grim as she saw
– really saw -- how unlike Jen Sar's house in the country was this
place, and how the carpet didn't solve the problems of the Wall not
entirely feeling like home any longer.
Holding to topic, she went on.
“On the subject of consequences, how did Theo take your encounter with the Chapelia?”
Her search for a place to put the snack tray was
solved by Jen Sar sweeping it lightly from her hands. He put the
wine bottle on the floor and slid the tray between the glasses while
she complacently took the seat opposite.
“Agility problem?” His voice was soft, but full of
attention. His hand executed one of those interesting waves he used to
emphasize things.
“I'd say that Theo showed well; alarmed but neither
being panicked nor overwrought in the face of rude Simples. And I
own myself proud of how well she followed my lead...”
He handed her a glass and reseated himself. “I
think,” he said in his ultra-soft serious voice, “that in fact Theo has
no agility problem.” He nodded, or perhaps it was a bow of particular
meaning, and continued after selecting a sampling of crackers.
“You know that I have thought for some while
that someone has been working to tag Theo with a problem she does not
own.”
She sipped her wine, remembering past conversations
on this topic. At first, it had seemed that Jen Sar’s concerns
were …overwrought, though he was not, in general prone to that
particular male failing. Lately, however…
“I think that rather than attempting to physically
limit Theo,” he said, “she might be best served by having her time
filled with more activity. It may not be her agility but her
self-assurance which requires an upgrade. In particular, I think she
could benefit from taking dance.”
“Dance? Theo?”
“And why not? There's room for a novice in the
Practical Dance class – it's open to non-majors, after all – and I'm
certain you will receive the needed signature from....”
Jen Sar paused as Kamele reached for words.
“I see you have concerns,” he said smoothly.
“You're sure the signature will be provided,” she said dryly. “There's room for a novice, is there?”
He laughed, and nodded, or perhaps bowed...
“I gather that your work is at a difficult
stage. It seemed best to present a coherent, and accomplished,
suggestion, one that needn't be modified by circumstance, as well as
one that might be adopted – soon.” This last was accompanied with such
an earnest glance that Kamele smiled despite it all.
“Yes, good,” she said, briskly. “Can I guess that you have the whole of it to send me?”
“Indeed? How else?”
She did laugh then, almost resignedly.
“Please, if you will. I'll suggest it to Theo, and mention you think it a good plan.”
“Ah... we had discussed the matter. She will,
I think, be relieved to find that you also think it a good plan.
There! A problem perhaps nearly solved!”
They clinked glassed lightly, as of old.
“But we started off with two problems, my friend,”
she pointed out. “And this one may not be solved so
neatly.” She reached for a cracker spread with soy-cheese.
"I need to travel,” she said slowly. “I simply can't see any other solution but that we – the forensic team and me – go to Melchiza to… hand-verify some documents."
"Melchiza is hardly the end of the galaxy," Jen Sar observed, sipping his wine.
"No, but it seems the least we’ll be gone is one
hundred seventy days, between the inspections and the travel.
After this latest series of – even Ella's telling me to accept
the therapy – in order to fix my position! In any other
circumstance, I'd of course leave Theo with her while I'm off-world,
but – not now. I don't dare." She took a breath, and met
Jen Sar's steady gaze.
"So, if you agree – I propose to leave her with you."
He blinked.
"Leave her with me?" he repeated. "But why leave her here at all? Take her with you!"
"No, that's impossible."
"It's nothing of the kind," he retorted. "Theo
is a minor and her mother makes all decisions regarding her well-being."
"Her education; I'd have to take her out her team. She'd miss --"
"I do not believe," Jen Sar interrupted, "that
Professor Kamele Waitley would find the oversight of her minor
daughter's education the slightest strain. Surely the school will
provide a curricula, exercises, reading lists."
"I --"
"Kamele..." He extended a hand and touched
hers. "Think! This solves – many things. It preserves
custom, removes Theo from peril, and expands both your base and
hers. Sub-chair Waitley of course accompanies the forensic team on its quest. And of course she has her daughter, the precocious and alarming Theo, at her side."
Kamele laughed and sat back, delicately slipping her
hand out from beneath his. "Speaking of expanding bases," she
murmured, and had the rare opportunity to see him chagrined.
"Your pardon." He inclined his head briefly,
then looked into her eyes. "Over-enthusiasm aside, it does answer
many difficulties."
She sipped her wine, considering. "It seems
to," she said slowly. "But when we come home – Jen Sar, she'd be
odder than ever! And an absence will give the Safety Office time
to write a recommendation. Without me here to deny it --"
"Yes – exactly so. Which is why you will be
canny and schedule her Gigneri immediately you are both returned."
Kamele put her cup down so quickly, wine splashed over the rim.
"She's too young!" she snapped. "If I
won't drug my daughter for expedience, what makes you think that I'll
push her into a --" Words failed. She closed her mouth and
glared at him.
"Allow me to utterly sympathetic to your concern,"
he said. "Though there does seem to be some interest on the side of Mr.
Singh, I cannot say that Theo exhibits anything more than liking.
I would certainly not prescribe a Gigneri pairing based on such thin
stuff. No..." He pulled out his mumu and tapped the screen.
"I put my time to profit while awaiting your return," he said. "And I find that – you may contrive."
"Excuse me?"
"There is a loophole," he explained, and put the mumu on the table before her. "Look."
"As recently as fifty years ago, the Gigneri and the
First Pair were distinct as rites of passage. First, one is
entrusted with the full tale of one's genes. Then, when one has
had a bit of time to adjust and to – expand one's base – one fully
participates in a celebration of joy, as a new and potent adult."
He sat back. "Much more rational than piling every shock and discovery into one event."
Kamele listened to him with one ear while she read
his précis, and followed the links to the source articles.
"You might remember that I told you of my mother's
best friend," she murmured, most of her mind on reading. "She
came from Alpensward, the ski hills, where they kept to the older
ways." She looked up, eyes bright. "She was a second mother to
me, and I miss her still."
"I remember." Jen Sar smiled. "What
better tribute to her memory than to induct your daughter into
adulthood as she would have wished?"
Kamele nodded, chewing her lip, then handed the mumu
back to him. "I'll need to think about it. But – it may
you’re correct and this will solve more problems than it will cause."
"Shall I send you the cites -- quietly?"
"If you would," she said, and sighed. "It's late; I've got an early class..."
"...and propriety does not allow me to stay for what
is left of the night," he finished lightly, and came to his feet.
"I believe I may repair to my office and get some work done. Do you
think you'll have the matter with the Chapelia settled by the time I
leave the Wall...later today?"
"Yes; I'll take care of it first thing," she
promised, slipping off her stool and walking with him to the
door. "Was Theo – very alarmed?"
"Curious, rather. Though..." He paused
and turned to face her. "I fear that I have made a misstep.
She now knows that it's possible to turn off the emitter."
"Oh," Kamele said, feeling slightly giddy, "no!"
"I trust it will take her a few days at least to figure it out."
"A few days --" She looked at him helplessly,
then giggled. "Well," she said. "It ought to keep her out
of trouble." She giggled again and shook her head.
"Indeed it ought," Jen Sar said solemnly, and
touched her cheek, very briefly. "Good-night, Kamele. Sleep well."
"Good-night," she answered, and regretfully opened the door to let him go.
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Base page created December 1, 2006 by Sharon Lee
Chapter updated May 7, 2007
technical revision posted May 14, 2007
Update March 15, 2008, 12:05 p.m. EDT
copyright © 2006-2007 by Sharon Lee and Steve Miller
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