Fledgling

It's kind of complicated


CHAPTERS
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One 1/22/2007
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Two 1/29/2007
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Three 2/5/2007
::
Four 2/12/2007
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Five 2/26/2007
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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
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Eleven
4/9/2007

Twelve
4/23/2007
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Thirteen
4/30/2007
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Fourteen
5/7/2007
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Fifteen
5/14/2007
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Sixteen
5/21/2007
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Seventeen
6/4/2007

::
Eighteen
6/11/2007

::
Nineteen
6/18/2007

::
Twenty
7/02/2007

::
Twenty One
7/09/07







::









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 Twenty 
               


    Theo nodded, and motioned with her hands despite the fact that she was using those hands to make lace. Beside her on the sofa-like lounge seat, trying to sit up a little straighter than the seat naturally permitted, Win Ton struggled with thread, spool, and needle, oblivious to the curious glances coming their way from quiet snackers a few seats away. 
    Near the front of the lounge a quartet played stringed instruments in honor of some hour the ship felt needed honoring, but that sound was far enough away to be background helping cover the buzz of a dozen nearby conversations.
    “That's right; there's rhythm to it.  Once you get really started you'll find that your hands...”
    “There's a rhythm? I'm not sure that every repeating set of numbers qualifies as rhythm.” 
    Win Ton's voice was serious and low, inviting her to lean in toward him to hear him well.  That wasn't bad; it was a nice voice and he was comfortable to be around.
    “That would make a lot of fractions rhythmic automatically, would it not?”  He stopped his needle and looked at her quizzically.
    Win Ton did this, Theo realized – this silly question in the middle of things. Sometimes Win Ton reminded her of Jen Sar, who would suddenly ask “why” about something they'd been doing for years. Sometimes it was a test, she knew, and other times it was just a question born of real curiosity.  It should have been distracting or aggravating but now it just felt familiar.
    But there, the advertent student should periodically question assumptions in order to both widen the potential paths of study and to narrow the possibility that the current path was in error.  She thought that was the quote she'd seen somewhere...
    “Not automatically,”she said, her hands picking up speed as she let them work. “Numbers just are.  Unless they're doing something.  You have to have something happening, a  process or a duration, to have rhythm. Don't you?”
    He laughed and spread his hands to display the highly incomplete bit he'd supposedly been working on this last while.
    “Well, in that case there's not rhythm, because it seems quite clear that nothing is happening!”
    “I'll watch again,” Theo said, slowing her own pace but carefully observing his hands. His motions were uncertain at best and ...
    “Wait, I see, I think,” she said.
    “First, you're not ... well, it doesn't seem like you're sure. There's not much you can do wrong really; you aren't going to break a needle, most likely, and if you break the string you can tie and start from there. And really, if it isn't right you can pick it out and start over. But you're being so careful, you're being afraid to commit.”
    “That's odd, isn't it?”  Theo pulled on a thread in her lace, musing as much as talking to Win Ton. “When you play bowli ball you have to commit to play it.”
    She looked up at him, found his serious gaze on her. “ You have to decide and then follow through, you have to feel the plan and do it.  I know you can, I mean, we just played through two lectures!” 
    She smiled, and wagged a needle in his direction for emphasis
    “The other thing is, you're watching me as much as you're watching the work!”
    “What do you mean...” he began to protest  but from behind them came a familiar voice.
    “Rephrased, it sounds very like 'A pilot flies best who flies his own board'
and 'Tomorrow's breakfast requires landing tonight'.”
    Win Ton sputtered a bit, and perhaps reddened.  Theo laughed lightly, nodding toward the Captain, who stood behind them with arms crossed.
    “I meant,” Theo said, waving her work, “that if he watches me and he doesn't have the ...”
    “Oh, young Theo, I think you said it very well and need not say it again. Let us hope our friend takes the messages to heart!”
    Cho stepped around the seat and bent to inspect Theo's handiwork.
    “ But is this the lace you spoke of as being restful?”
    Theo nodded, adding “Yes, ma'am,” after a moment and holding the intricate star field she was working on for inspection.
    “And really, I think Win Ton still hasn't found the needles, and you're always a little nervous until then.”
    Win Ton held a needle in each hand and looked at Theo with his mouth straight and rolled his eyes.
    “These needles I haven't found?”
    Theo ignored the challenge and answered the question:
    “Yes. You're still holding them like they're strange things instead of like tools. Once you get used to having them in your hands you relax more and ...”
    She glanced down moved her left hand to start the work again, glanced up, said “See what I mean?  I have to look at it and see it but I don't have to worry about it.  And once it's started it just wants to go together. That's relaxing.”
    Cho watched Theo; Theo worked the star she'd been working on into it's place and started a connecting link from it to the next at the same time she spared glances for Cho and for Win Ton, who was more diligently watching and comparing her handwork to his own than he had before.
    Theo knotted and Cho's head moved in minute emphasis while Win Ton's wrists described the proper motion, though lacking the thread.
    Cho's shoulder moved slightly now and ...
    “I only have the one extra set of needles, else I'd let you use some,” Theo nodded agreeably toward Cho as she worked. “But maybe you and Win Ton can share...”
    Cho placed her hand in front of her, palm down.
    “Such a worry we needn't attempt, the sharing of the work.  Perhaps if I can join you at some quieter time and place at some point I can observe ...”
    Theo shrugged.  “Sure, that shouldn't be a problem. Still a few days to go.”
    “And now,” Cho said, straightening, “If you will excuse us a few moments, Theo, I have a brief discussion with my assistant.”
   
    ***

    Win Ton returned after a time Theo would not have called brief, but her understanding of the term might not be the same as that of the Liadens. 
    She'd begun to form the opinion that “Captain Cho” liked her but the discussion she was watching out the side of her glance had the air of one fraught with ... heat. It seemed unfortunate that it was punctuated with glances and motions in her direction. Was Cho angry that Win Ton was spending time with her?
    Not that everything in the universe was about her, of course, as she'd advertently been taught at home by Kamale and Jen Sar.  Still, Theo was getting more frustrated by the day at not being able to “hear” the finger-talk. What she did see was that the voice discussion was calm and courteous enough but the hand-talk discussion was what Father would call energetic.
    The lace was relaxing, and after awhile she settled into the patterns quite nicely, still with the odd glance to the back of the room.  In the front of the room the quartet had bowed, nodded, and placed their instruments on stands.  She hadn't heard if they were finished or merely taking a break, her attention having been toward the lace first and Cho and her assistant second, barely leaving room for ... ah, here he came now.
    “Did I get you in trouble, Win Ton?” She'd surprised him, she could see his eyes open wide. “Captain was not happy,” she ventured...
    He glanced at the work folded in his hands, gestured at the seat he'd used before.
    “May I at least sit before we being interrogations, sweet mystery?”
    Theo patted the seat beside her and courteously folded her work as she watched him get settled.
    He sighed, gently, and said then “So, your mentor is Liaden, correct? Has he taught you finger speak?”
    “Father,” Theo said with asperity, “ has not taught me finger-speak. He has not taught me Liaden. He has not taught me how to use a cane as a weapon and he has not shown me a bowli-ball and he has not...”
    She stopped, stared at the needlepoint in her hand a moment, then looked directly at Win Ton. 
    “That's not fair, and I'm sorry.  I'm not sure what happens sometimes, it's like I get ahead of myself!”
    “And perhaps you do not get ahead of yourself.”  Win Ton glanced down at his hands, where he was slowly unfolding the start of his introduction to lace-making.
    “Your question was pertinent. By the evidence of your eyes you saw my captain speak to me and read signs you felt indicated she was unhappy with me. And so, you request information, assuming the signs you read indicated your involvement with her unhappiness.”
    He sighed then, and smiled slowly. “ My question was impertinent. I was in effect asking if you had committed deception by not telling me you knew finger-talk.  Essentially I was giving over responsibility for my security to an assumed accident of birth.  Indeed, you followed a logical sequence of potential impertinent questions.  I cannot fault you for this.”
    “Yeah, well, it;s not fun to feel left out, even if it's not true.”
    “This is true,” he agreed, looking at the threads in his hands.
    “In so far as it concerns you, Theo Waitely,  yes, my Captain is unhappy with me. I need apologize to you, for I was full of my own enthusiasms, and yours, and didn't think to ask Kamele Waitely if her daughter might take part in bowli-ball.  Too, I barely told you we'd be doing more than some light and fashionable dance. My Captain reminds me that bowli ball is not fashionable in many quarters and that those who play bowli ball are not always regarded as fit company.  Too, from time to time one might take abrasions and bruises or worse. I am to speak to your mother over my omissions.”
    “You're sorry, huh?”
    Win Ton failed to stifle the snort and it became a full laugh.
    “May I request you not volunteer this to your mother or to my Captain?”
    “Volunteer what?”
    “What I am about to say.”
    “That depends on if it passes muster, huh?”
    He snorted again.
    “Yes.  But then to the point. I am sorry that I acted without requesting clearance from your mother. I am pleased that you were able to participate.”
    Theo smiled. “I'm glad, because I had a great time.  But... can I ask you something about the games and all?”
    “Of course, Theo.”
    “Good.  It's about Cordrey and Phobai.”
    Theo gathered her thoughts together.
    “I was still out of breath and all,  and didn't think about it.   There when they were explaining that they had shift tomorrow, but they had some time tonight and we could come by and spend it with them if we were available...”
    Win Ton slowly closed his eyes and then opened them again.
    “And I said thanks but that I had dinner with my mother...”
    He nodded.
    Now she gathered her words together. “They were umm... saying we could all be... bed partners if we wanted to?”
    He nodded, slowly.
    “I  would say yes, they were.”
    “Hah.”
    The work was going on now, her hands busy.
    The she looked directly into Win Ton's eyes.
    “I've never done that, you know.  I'm not ... on Delgado, I'm not old enough. I haven't had my Gigneri even.”
    “Ah”, Win Ton allowed.
    She looked hard at his face.  “Why? I mean, I'm just a ... I'm not... on Delgado I can't even stay out after 10 bells by myself.””
    Win Ton's lips were very straight for a moment, and then he looked down at the star forming in her hands.
    “Theo, you gave a very good game today at bowli ball. You were, you are ... fun company.  Good company.  You have ... and you have to recall that, ah..., the ship you are in is not registered to Delgado and the laws on board are not necessarily in complete accord with those of Delgado, or for that matter any other particular planet.  Here on this ship, to some extent, you are a free agent, your own person. Essentially adult.”
    “But really,” Theo insisted. “Did they think I'm old enough to partner when I want, when I never have? How could they think I was... worth bothering with? ”
    He laughed, did Win Ton.
    “Theo, Cordrey and Phobai, and me, too, we think you are one of the most interesting people on this ship.  They were complimenting you.”
    She smiled, slightly.
    “I thought that. But, I hope I didn't make them mad.  Or you either. I'm just not ...”
    “Then it is settled,” he said.  “ A previous engagement is always in order.”
    “No, I mean, Win Ton, it isn 't that I don't like you...”
    Win Ton raised his hand, palm up.
    “Please, Theo. Friend Theo.  The Code is clear on this point: An offer of sharing should not be pressed.”
    Standing, he stretched, the scrape on his left wrist from a particularly vigorous bowli ball retrieval almost glowing.
    “And as the Captain is clear on the point that my mission is not one booking much delay, I wonder if you know where we, or I at least, my find Kamele Waitley at this hour?   

    ***

    Crowley was to meet them, wisely not in the Chair's own lair but at little cafe Kamale thought of as her own special find. Crowley'd also found it, which she should have expected, for despite his age he'd been investigating as much of the ship as he could.  He'd also, Kamale gathered, managed not to be alone with Chair, which seemed at this point an idea she should have emulated.
    Chair promising to be right along, her onagrata having just returned from casino with tales of winnings at the card tables and some other news apparently needing to be shared one-to-one. The man was so proud of his card playing he probably needed to show off his winning hand..... Kamale left that thought as she rounded the bend in the corridor separating the high-end suites from the more commonplace suites.  The stateroom she and Theo shared was on the next cross-corridor, giving her time to think....
    Chair's revelations and insinuations were troubling indeed. It had indeed never crossed her mind that her daughter, from a line of academics in good standing, could be harmed by her own association with an academic of the first water. That she herself might have suffered had been considered, but there'd be no gross evidence of that either.
    Still, the Chair had broached the topic this way:
    “Consider, Kamale, I was sub-chair for twelve years, and in that time the department grew by three. I have been Chair now for eight years, and as chair the department as grown by three already. I find myself not inclined to be chair for more than twelve years...I have a retirement to look forward to!  That the former sub-chair has proven insufficient to the task won't deter me... which means that the person most likely to follow me into office would be yourself, if I support your candidacy. That assumes, of course, that we can continue to communicate and have the rest of the faculty coalesce around our goals and our report.”
    And there it was: the woman did have a way with words when she wasn't distracted, but she'd been so very distracted this last while...
    And so for that matter, Kamale admitted to herself, had she. If Theo's trouble had not been so pressing Ella might have been able to...
    She rounded the corner, careful to stay close to edge in case of traffic, and there, tapping on the door to their stateroom was Theo!
    Quite close behind Theo was Win Ton
    “Not here, I guess,” Theo said, pulling her key to hand.
    “As for Theo, she might yet be saved for a life in academia, but really, have you any idea where she is? She could be doing anything with that Liaden!”
    “Theo, you needn't wonder if am in”, Kamele said quite sternly, “I'm right here.”   
              
 


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Base page created December 1, 2006 by Sharon Lee
Chapter updated July 2, 2007
second technical revision posted July 6, 2007
Updated March 15, 2008, 11:57 a.m. EDT
copyright © 2006-2007 by Sharon Lee and Steve Miller