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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 Sixteen
Senior Scout Cho sig'Radia strode toward dinner with
her mind more than half occupied with the report she was
composing. Gone ahead of her, likely by the somewhat improper use
of crew corridors, was her immediate second on this mission, Trainee
yo'Vala. She shrugged Terran-style to herself as she moved along the
public promenade toward the dining hall; soon enough the trainee would
discover that courtesy of ship varied considerably. That crew on this
ship respected a pilot's jacket -- was good to know. That the
trainee had the happy gift of making friends was -- well for the
trainee.
Scout sig'Radia was not wearing her pilot leathers
for this portion of the trip, wishing some relief from what had been a
tedious, if necessary, chore of inspecting and certifying a new flight
school. Also, she traveled at the expense of Ibenvue's
planetary government on the newest of its cruise-passenger ships, a
touching show of faith that she felt, in Balance, ought to be rewarded
by a similar exhibition of discretion. And, indeed, she preferred
to travel in mufti, savoring the opportunity to explore the ship as if
a mere tourist.
The school now, the certification of which had been
so very important to the Ibenvue's self-declared pacifistic and
newly outward-looking government. Quite an interesting
school, with the capability of producing ...quite a number... of
pilots. She had certified it, of course -- how could she
not? The school employed two Terran master pilots as trainers,
either capable of approving a pilot's skill -- and signing the
all-important license. It was said -- many times said, by the
escort she and yo'Vala had been provided with -- that Ibenvue's school
sought to train pilots who would train pilots, thus bringing the
homeworld fully into galactic commerce, and for this laudable
goal both Terran Guild and Scout approvals had been sought.
On the other hand, as Scout sig'Radia took care to
emphasize in the report she was composing for her immediate superior,
the juxtaposition of a sudden passion for pilots -- many pilots -- the
investment of a staggering portion of Ibenvue's Gross Planetary Product
in the acquisition of large, easily convertible 'luxury' ships, and a
suddenly enhanced military -- necessary of course for the protection of
both pilots and of ships -- bore scrutiny. Perhaps even close
scrutiny, and by those who were not put boldly forth as a Scout
Inspector Specialist.
Well, she told herself, as she approached the
junction with the hospitality module, best to put the report and
thoughts of the report aside for the next while and instead concentrate
on what enjoyment might be had from one's fellow passengers. This
being, by reason of a lack of handwritten invitations from the captain,
an informal meal, tables were formed from random groups of hopeful
diners, and the luck of the draw --
Oh no!
Approaching along the opposite corridor at a full
clatter that might over-serve a dozen seasoned travelers, came, not
merely passengers, but academics!
It was far too late to change direction. Cho allowed
herself one small sigh before calling up her brightest meet-the-Terrans
smile, and stepping into the transition lounge. She'd seen this
group at boarding yesterday, and hid her grimace then as she did now.
It was never good policy to openly avoid your fellow passengers, after
all.
Cho's luck had been elsewhere the first time they'd
met, for the loudest of the group had mistaken her for a tour-aide and
demanded assistance. Professora, perhaps an attending bedmate or
two, and a female halfling trailing, quiet and large-eyed, behind, all
expectantly waiting for her to solve the universe in one quick
answer. Well, except for the halfling, whose attention had been
claimed by a pair of buskers, autopipes at volume, and donation dish
well over the docking line.
Yesterday's solving had been brief enough – the
station's help terminals were quite adequate and there had been one
close by for her to point to. The buskers, alas, had not fared so
well. A crewman, directed by a flutter of the dock steward's
fingers, bore down on them yelling; scooping up the bowl and throwing
it at the taller one's head, after he had pocketed the few coins
it contained.
The halfling had seen that, Cho was certain, though
she had by then been on her way up the ramp, surrounded by the noisy
confusion of her elders.
The professorial group burst into the corridor ahead
of her, their talk filling the space with echoes. Cho took a deep
breath in protest of the hubbub, and stood to one side, watching.
The first into the intersection was the halfling,
skipping lightly through the change of the gravity field at the
lock boundary as if she were born to such things. Behind her, one
of the elders tripped, and bounced sharply against the wall. The
halfling turned, one hand extended --
"Theo, please don't..." a woman's fine voice said,
perfectly audible beneath the elder's loud exclamations. The
halfling – Theo – spun deftly on one toe, removing herself from danger
as the elder staggered, colliding with the other side of the passage,
barely keeping her feet, her lamentations increasing in volume and
degree.
This would not do.
Cho moved from her watching place, smile resolutely
in place, singing out in her best dealing-with-grounders voice, "Yes,
these grav-interfaces can be quite shocking, can they not? That
is why these yellow-and-green stripes line the walls – to warn of the
coming field differential." By then she was among them, and
pleased to see that they slowed in response to her tone and her posture
of relaxed goodwill. With luck, they would avoid a repeat of the
loud woman's misadventure.
Alas, that woman, rather than sensibly awaiting
rescue, had wallowed into a turn and now blundered back across the
divide, smacking the wall for a third time. She would, Cho
thought dispassionately, have bruises on the morrow, which would have
been well enough, had there been any remotest possibility that she
would have also learned something.
"My stomach...." the clumsy woman moaned,
clinging to the smooth wall and closing her eyes tight. "Why do
we have to cross this chasm for every meal?"
A slightly younger and considerably fitter woman
moved to her side, "Chair, we don't have to come to the dining room,
after all. Our meals can be brought to us, if we like..."
"Chair" seemed to consider this point; at least her
vocal agitation subsided, while the younger woman directed a half-bow
to Cho.
"Ma'am, you appear to travel comfortably. Do you take all your meals on-board in public, I wonder?"
Cho gave the bow back, pleased to meet good intent
with courtesy. "I tend to do so, traveler, unless duty keeps me at my
desk. Much of my joy in travel comes from the people." This
was perfectly true, and something she often said when traveling.
If certain travelers therefore assumed that they were the cause of joy
– what harm done?
"Then you are an experienced traveler?"
The woman's voice was trained; she appeared not only sharp and alert,
but also seemed to be one who had perhaps dealt closely with
Liadens. The careful inflection, and the deliberate structure of
a yes-no query was very nearly a challenge.
Cho laughed out loud, in fellowship more than amusement, and inclined her head.
"Travel is my life, I warrant! I do not
willingly stay on-world – on any world – for very long. It is not
that I dislike worlds, but that I prefer space."
Her interlocutor smiled, perhaps in shared
fellowship, and several others of the group laughed softly, as people
will who have recognized humor without entirely catching the
joke. Beneath these sounds, Cho detected another, and glanced
aside to discover the ignored halfling – winsome Theo -- amusing
herself with the gravity nexus, leaning playfully forward, allowing the
field to keep her upright...
"Theo, surely that's not safe!" Chair snapped.
From Theo's blink and the stiffening of the woman with the nice voice,
Cho surmised that this input was both out-of-bounds and unwelcome.
"But I'm not having a problem, Professor Hafley,"
Theo said, holding her arms out at side, as if gliding on a placid
breeze. "It's like leaning into a wind!"
The thin, young face was almost impish with the joy of her play and it took Cho's best effort not to laugh.
"Certainly leaning into the wind isn't safe!" Chair – but no, Professor Hafley-- snapped. "You'll fall flat on your face when it changes direction!"
"Chair," the peacemaking woman who knew Liadens
murmured. "I think Theo's demonstrated that she's not in
danger..."
"Even if she isn't, she's making me queasy!
Why can't she just stand up straight and still, and show some respect
--”
"Chair Hafley," the prettiest of the group's two
males spoke up suddenly, voice plaintive. "It's time for our seating,
and I, for one, am hungry."
Cho's stomach quite agreed with the need for food;
and the pretty one's complaint seemed to carry weight with Professor
Hafley, who turned with heavy-footed care to face her nemesis once
more. Moving quickly, Cho dodged past, waving Theo to her side
with a wink.
"Youngling, if you'll favor me, we'll walk ahead and claim a table."
Theo glanced over her shoulder, but apparently
whomever held her in care gave permission, for she came along quite
docilely; and if she skipped a little in the slightly lighter grav of
the access hall, who, thought Cho, could blame her?
**
They'd claimed the last full table – or rather the
woman with the short gray hair had, calmly telling the steward that,
"the rest of our party comes at leisure, while we two madcaps raced
before them."
The tables in the dining hall were round, which
Professor Crowley had said neatly solved many potential problems of
precedence and protocol. That it didn't solve allproblems
of precedence Theo had learned only at breakfast, when she had
mistakenly taken the chair at Kamele's right. That chair also
being to the left of Clyburn's onagrata, it was, so he had informed her – and the rest of the dining hall – his. Mere children were to stand back until the adults were seated, and then take the chair which was left.
"Favor me, child," the gray-haired woman murmured;
"and sit at my right. I am desolated to perceive a lack of mine
apprentice, derelict in his duty to keep me upon my mettle."
The tone was suspiciously close to Father's
over-serious voice. Theo looked into the woman's polite face,
catching the faintest twinkle in the brown eyes.
"I'll gladly do that ma'am," she said carefully. "But what if your apprentice comes – later?"
"Why then, he shall sit at your right to observe such technique as you will display, and to bask in my displeasure at a survivable distance."
Theo laughed, as she took the chair the woman indicated. "I'm Theo Waitley, by the way," she said.
"I greet you, Theo Waitley," her seat-mate, with a
heavy nod – almost a seated bow, Theo thought. "My name is... Cho
sig'Radia."
Theo copied the nod. "I greet you, Cho
sig'Radia," she said, and looked up into a smile quite different from
the smile she had worn at the intersection lobby.
There was a sudden noise, Theo turned to see the rest of their group at the steward's station.
"The remainder of our party joins us! How
delightful, to be sure!" Cho sig'Radia exclaimed cheerily.
Theo glanced at her, and saw the other smile
in place, too bright and too obvious, and then the others were with
them, conducted by the steward, who held the chair for Professor Hafley
and saw her safely seated with her napkin on her lap before leaving
them in search of their waiter.
"Theo Waitley and I have been introducing ourselves,
as we had overlooked this nicety in the press of other matters. I
therefore seek to amend this affront to civilized behavior by making
the group aware that I am Cho sig'Radia."
There was a pause, long enough for Theo to worry
that Professor Hafley was still upset enough to be rude. Across
the table, Kamele frowned, which probably meant she was worried, too.
Finally, Professor Hafley smiled stiffly. "Cho
sig'Radia, I am History of Education Chair Orkan Hafley," she said
formally.
"Professor Hafley," Cho murmured, inclining her head.
Theo relaxed as Kamele introduced herself, "History
of Education Subchair Kamele Waitley," she murmured, and raised her
eyebrows in Theo's direction. "Mother to Theo Waitley."
"Ah, is it so? Allow me to compliment you upon your most charming offspring."
Kamele laughed softly. "You are too kind," she murmured and the introductions moved on.
"Emeritus Professor Crowley, Associate
Provost; Clyburn Tang..." Theo let the introductions slide past
her ear, watching Cho sig'Radia as she acknowledged each. The
smile, she thought, like the earnestly polite expression that Father
showed to strangers, was a kind of mask, maybe meant to put people at
ease...
"Behold, the lost is found!" Cho exclaimed and rose
from her chair, hand sweeping out to show them the boy with the rumpled
hair and the leather jacket who approached their table.
"To the Delgado scholars I am pleased to present
Trainee Win Ton yo'Vala, who has taken the not-so-short route to
dinner.”
The trainee bowed to the table, while the fingers of
his left hand danced a pattern in the direction of Cho sig'Radia.
"Delgado scholars, I greet you," he said, his accent
tickling the inside of Theo's ear. "Captain, I am at your
feet. You were as always, correct."
"Flatterer!" Cho reseated herself and waved
him toward the seat next to Theo. "Comport yourself with
courtesy, I pray you. Later, I will entertain reasons why you
should not be spaced."
"Ma'am." He bowed again, fingers still, and
moved smoothly 'round the table to Theo's side. Cho turned her
attention once more to the scholars, and he leaned close to whisper,
"Have pity on me, I beg you."
Theo turned her head, looking directly into a pair
of merry brown eyes. She smiled at him without meaning to.
"What do you want?"
"Only to live out my allotted span," he said,
smiling back. "Depend upon it, she will grill me on the names and
occupations of everyone sitting to dinner, and if I do not have
them..." he sighed, not convincingly. "Why, then, it's the
airlock for me." He bent his head, and sent her a glance from
beneath his eyelashes. "Without a suit."
Theo bit her lip so she wouldn't laughed, and shook
her head. "Cho sig'Radia said I was to keep her on her mettle,
since you weren't here."
"Look at her," he returned. "Have you ever
beheld a woman more mettlesome? Indeed, were she any sharper, she
would be a danger to herself."
Theo's rescue this time came in the shape of their waiter, who approached bearing a tray full of beakers.
"What's that?" she wondered.
Beside her Win Ton yo'Vala laughed softly. "Oho. Perhaps we might trade, sweet mystery."
She looked at him. "Trade?"
"Of a certainty. We each hold knowledge which
the other lacks. Commerce may go forth." He paused as
beakers arrived before them.
"Here," he said; "I will show my
earnest. This..." He touched the beaker with a light
finger. "This, sweet mystery, is chilled vegetable broth.
It is meant to prepare the palate for the delights to come. One
sips it directly from the glass."
A quick glance showed Cho and Kamele and Professor
Crowley lifting their beakers as described, hesitantly copied by others
of their party.
Theo glanced back to Win Ton. "My name isn't
'sweet mystery,'" she told him, picking her glass up carefully.
"It's Theo. Theo Waitley."
Win Ton's smile widened and he leaned closer to
touch his glass to hers. "So," he said conspiratorially, "the
trading begins."
*
By the time the plates bearing what Win Ton assured
her was the "main course" arrived, he was in the possession of the
names and positions of each of the Delgado party, and Theo had learned
how to "address" three different "befores" – one cold, one tepid, one
hot – and the uses of the various utensils provided at her place.
This was much better than breakfast, she thought, as
she tried to imitate Win Ton's use of the tongs. At breakfast,
the scholars had discussed their project, leaving her Clyburn for
company. Since he considered himself above talking to children,
except to issue directions, that meant she'd spent the meal trying to
figure out a conversation she clearly wasn't meant to understand, and
wishing she was back home.
As near as she could figure it in her head, it would
be about time for Advertence class. She'd wondered how Lesset had
done with the last solo – which turned out to be a bad idea, because
that made her eyes sting, and she wasn't going to cry in front of the whole Research Team. And especially
not in front of Clyburn. Happily, the waiter came to tell them
that their table was needed for the second meal-shift before Theo
scandalized everybody by pulling out her mumu and calling up a game.
She tasted a bit of what Win Ton said was poached
Siclarian Walking Mushrooms, catching her breath at the unexpected
burst of hot spiciness, and reaching for her water glass.
With two strangers at the table, the scholars had to
be polite. Surprisingly, it was Emeritus Professor Crowley who
carried the bulk of the conversation with Cho sig'Radia, admitting to
her supposition that their destination was Melchiza.
Questioned regarding their purpose, he had tipped
his head, ironically, Theo thought, and murmured, "We are to perform a
literature search, ma'am. Quite tedious and scholarly. And
yourself? Can we hope to have the pleasure of your company all
the way to Melchiza?"
"Your hopes are fulfilled," she assured him with one
of her real smiles. "We have business on the station there, my
disgraceful apprentice and I."
"What business?" Theo asked Win Ton, as
Clyburn – too long ignored – began a rambling commentary on the clothes
worn by passengers at other tables.
"We are assigned to retrieve a ship," he said, matter-of-factly, and sent her a sharp glance.
"You sigh, sweet Theo! Is it possible to hope that you will miss me?"
"I probably will miss you," she answered
truthfully. "But – 'assigned to retrieve a ship' sounds so much
more interesting than 'stuck in a room studying!'"
"Oh, there will be a wealth of that on my side, too,
I assure you! No one who travels with my Captain is safe from
study." He smiled. "And I will admit that not a few of the
lessons available to passengers of this ship do tempt me.
History, drama, the science of star travel, lectures on the arts and
culture of the ports we approach..."
She blinked at him. "You make it sound like fun!"
He laughed. "And so it is fun! Shall I prove my point?"
"How?" she asked doubtfully.
"Meet me tomorrow at ships 5th gong in the morning
lounge – they call it Breakfast All Year because someone's always on a
schedule where breakfast is what they need -- and then we shall
the two of us visit the daily lecture at the Pet Library. Tomorrow’s is
Introduction to Norbears if I recall correctly. Have we a bargain?"
"My tutoring should be over by then..." she said slowly.
"Send me a message via ship's web if circumstances
overtake you. I'm Passenger 997644. Got that? Otherwise, we
shall test my proposition, eh?"
"All right..." Theo said, and then smiled. "Passenger 997644. I hope I can make it."
"I hope you can make it, too."
"Actually, no," Cho sig'Radia was saying to Clyburn,
“the truth is that the attire you so admire three tables over is not
worn by the least of those seated, but the first. Indeed, he
appears to be wearing the very latest from Rombert's, and would be
welcome in any of the finest halls on Liad dressed thus. Alas, here he
is – a bit too grand. Perhaps he thought to sit with the Captain."
Clyburn didn't like to be corrected. He drew a breath to answer – and was quelled
by a look form his lady, which warmed Theo toward her only slightly, and mumbled his way into silence.
“It is difficult when traveling," Win Ton
said into the small quiet that followed this, "to correctly read
clothing and position." He paused and looked about, saw that he had the
attention of the table and continued.
"The – you will forgive me, that I have no proper word in your tongue – the melant'i
of those around one can only sometimes be determined by dress, or lack
of it, when one travels. I have had cause..." He looked toward
Cho, his cheeks darkening slightly. "On this very trip, I myself
had cause to be surprised at a meal. A man dressed all in white,
with the smell of spice and oil about him, and perhaps, too, a dash of
sauce upon a sleeve, came to our table ... I thought him a... servant,
perhaps a worker in the kitchens. Rather he ... wore
the ring!"
Here he paused, fingers rippling, as if he were handing something past Theo to the woman on her other side --
"Rather," Cho sig'Radia said, taking up the tale,
"he was Zed ter'Janpok, Clan Tangier, Tangier himself, an old friend of
mine, come to visit." She paused to sip from her glass. "Mind
you, the impulsive young apprentice had not entirely mis-observed, for
my good friend is a chef of the first water, and so, indeed, a kitchen worker."
She cocked an ironic eyebrow downtable. Professor Crowley and
Kamele laughed in appreciation, echoed by the others.
"And now, unless I mis-observe myself – yes! It is our servers, with dessert!"
*
"Do candied dromisain leaves with sour sauce not
please you, sweet mystery? You might call for a sorbet, instead,
you know."
Theo blinked, her face heating. She'd dozed off, like a kid kept up past her bedtime.
"Stop calling me that!" she whispered fiercely. "It's stupid."
There was a small pause. A glance at Win Ton's
face showed him suddenly serious, his lips pressed tight.
"I'm sorry." Impulsively, she reached out and
put her fingers on his leather sleeve. "I'm – I'm not on ship
time yet, and I'm falling asleep. And I miss my cat, and Fa-- and
my mother's onagrata. But none of that's your fault and I
shouldn't have yelled at you."
"Ah." His mouth softened and he inclined his
head. "It is forgotten. And it is my fault, I think, a
little. You had told me your name." He frowned down at his
plate and put the spoon carefully aside.
"In truth, the sauce is somewhat too sour for my
taste," he said, and tipped his head, his eyes bright again.
"Tell me about your cat."
There was a note of ...wistfulness in his voice. "Do you have a cat, too?" Theo asked.
Win Ton moved his hand in a sharp gesture, like he
was tossing something away. "I, a cat? Never think
it. My delm dislikes the creatures and refuses to have any in
clan house or garden. So you must tell me: What is it like
to have your own cat?"
"Well," she said slowly. "Sometimes, it's a lot of trouble..."
**
The conversation grew more interesting with dessert,
which Cho welcomed – and welcomed again, as the beautiful Clyburn was
effectively silenced by the ebb and flow of discussion. Truly, a
vapid individual. On the other hand, his lady seemed pleased with
his secret charms, and that of course must be what counted.
The senior traveler Crowley was sharp and quiet at
once, and the Subchair Kamele Waitley -- ostensibly the second to her
Chair! – was both sharper and quieter. Interesting melant'i
play it was to see the discussion moved about at apparent random, where
the Chair was sometimes at a loss, while the Emeriti and Associate
Provost appeared very much interested in the opinions, and the process
of the Subchair's thoughts. That this was not lost upon Chair
Hafley was also apparent, and promised more adjustment of melant'i in future. It was to be hoped that the elder scholar would be wise, though Cho thought perhaps she would be ...otherwise.
Too, perhaps young Theo Waitley's presence could not
be dismissed simply as a doting mother's whim companion. There
was little of the doting parent in Kamele Waitley. And how
convenient, indeed, to have another of one's house as extra ears, in
what was surely a situation fraught with tension?
The child and yo'Vala had kept good company,
to the benefit of both. Their present topic...she spared them an
ear, and hid her sigh inside a sip of wine. A cat! The gods
send that there would be no opportunity for the boy to adopt a ship's
cat before she handed him off to other trainers.
"But it's the old 'unlimited energy' canard, brought to a new face!"
That was Crowley, taking fire from what was
apparently a favorite topic. "We in education know – I can
prepare cites if you like! -- "
But there, the youngest of them was nodding off in
the midst of a recitation of the wonders of cat, her dessert uneaten
and her spoon drooping in her hand.
Cho glanced aside, meaning to draw the mother's eye,
but the sharp and formidable Kamele had seen, and was already in
motion, pushing back from the table with a smile all around.
"Scholars, apprise me in the the morning if you
solve this. I'm afraid Theo and I are not yet in sync with the
ship's clock. Perhaps tomorrow evening we'll be more in tune."
“I wonder if I may suggest,” Cho murmured for
Kamele's ear along as Win Ton helped Theo to her feet and deftly
re-arranged the chairs to clear her path, "that your daughter join some
of the lectures and events in the morning. I know she will have lessons
– as does my scamp of an apprentice -- but with a table full of
educators to draw upon it ought not be difficult to assign value to
something far more – interactive – than rote read-and-repeat..."
Kamele gave her a sharp glance, and Cho smiled with a small bow of the head for a mother's consideration.
"It must be admitted," she said, quieter still,
"that Win Ton has asked Theo to accompany him to a lecture at the Pet
Library. If you are able to allow it, I would own myself in your
debt, for the boy needs to practice his Terran against a native
speaker."
"Ah." Kamele smiled as she put her hand on her
daughter's shoulder and turned her toward the entry. "I think I
can allow that."
The two departed, Win Ton reseated himself, and Cho
returned her attention to the remaining scholars, who had taken up a
debate of the educational opportunities available on-board. Cho
smiled and leaned back in her chair, pleased that the politics of
unlimited energy had been, for the moment, put away.
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Base page created December 1, 2006 by Sharon Lee
Chapter updated May 21, 2007
technical revision posted May 21, 2007
Update March 15, 2008, 12:03 p.m. EDT
copyright © 2006-2007 by Sharon Lee and Steve Miller
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