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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 Twenty Two
They sat in uneasy silence for some moments, Roni
and her mother spending much time surreptitiously looking about
to see who might be watching and trying the while to eat with smiles on
their faces.
Jen Sar was still amused at this point, though his
patience was severely tried by Roni's tapping of her fork on
plate. He'd considered the tapping as a possible code and
rejected the theory in favor of juvenile nerves after a quick sweep of
the nearby tables showed no one within reasonable hearing distance.
There were, he saw, people paying attention to the
table and wondered if Mason and daughter had taken on some kind of
meal-time suzerainty in this tiny corner of cafeteria. An odd
place to be chief, but still, it fit with the lack of grace the pair
showed the world at most times.
He rethought that after a moment and allowed that
some of the table's attention was likely because of Roni and her
recent attack of genes and hormones. So, given the ages of some
of the observers, he could dismiss himself as an object of interest.
Mason, of course, wore both her degree bracelets as
badges at all times, and he'd previously seen her wave her hands
extravagantly to make her honors known. Soon she'd need to clean the
left one of its new-found burden of sweet-sauce. Well. Amusing in its
way, but not entertaining enough to draw a crowd.
Too, it was not likely the young men six tables down
the north aisle were looking at him; certainly none were his student,
nor had been. If the cane had attracted attention initially surely by
now that ought to have worn off.
The daughter.
He shook his head mentally as he glanced to his tea before sipping, the Terran phrase Piece of work, entering his mind unbidden.
Yes, That would do nicely. Mason, of course
had not the forethought to rein in the girl, who was in danger of being
a bad example to youth.
Well, that would be Mason's problem, and Roni's,
were the Simples apprised of that, though Mason's standing was perhaps
mitigation, if not proof against.
The girl did tend to look like an
advertisement for a cheap evening on any number of worlds Jen Sar's
alter ego could name. He, for one, was not about to send money to
the Simples: all the girl need do was walk by wearing the current
blouse with flaunt-asset mode on and they'd see for themselves.
Which of course brought him back to the subject at
hand, which he was not about to discuss with the daughter's ears at
attention.
“I wonder,” he said leaning toward Mason, “If I
might trouble your Roni to fetch me several of those delightful fresh
Maize Buttons that the staff just put out, and an equivalent number of
packs of Creamily or perhaps a sharp cheese to decorate them with. I'm
afraid that my cane is hardly decoration for me at my age and the knee
would be better if I could rest it a while longer.”
The woman looked away from her scan of the room,
eyes suddenly disconcertingly direct and calculating, and then taking
in the cane again as it sat on the table.
Roni's startle brought her upright from her slouch
and Jen Sar feared she'd spill her drink, which was suspended halfway
to her mouth. Before she could gather her wits to say anything her
mother took up the challenge.
“Professor, I'm sure she'd be glad to be of assistance. Wouldn't you, Roni?”
Glass down, Roni managed a nod, and had the wit to add, “I'm sorry, was that Maize Buttons...?”
Jen Sar nodeded to the girl, gently.
“Yes, Maize Buttons and Creamily, if they have any left, else some of the sharp cheese.”
“Certainly, Professor.”
“Bring some for the table, Roni, suggested her mother. “I think I'd like some as well.”
Roni smiled , and overdid a bow as she rose, causing
consternation a few tables back, and flounced away energetically. Jen
Sar couldn't help but notice the silly flappy shoes the girl wore. If
they were current fashion it was probably good that Theo wasn't
fashionable....
He tore his eyes away, and found Mason with a silly smile on her face, as if he'd been caught at something.
“Now, Jen Sar,” said Mason leaning toward him rather
intimately, “I'm sure you didn't arrive in the Cafeteria just to look at my Roni, did you?”
Jen Sar sighed. “Indeed,z" he agreed. “I did
not. I think we can talk and I believe we have something to talk about.”
*
Her mother was all alert and serious.
Kamele sat over there in the big chair, as if she was dealing with guests, Theo realized, meaning that she and Win Ton had to sit over here, on the only sofa, as if they were guests, in her own stateroom.
It was odd to find herself seated with Win Ton, and
she wasn't sure he was particularly comfortable with the arrangements.
It wasn't that it felt bad, just a bit.... odd. Still, this is where
they were, so she tried to settle back.
She saw Kamele's glance at the ball she'd been
tossing. And brought it under control, missing Coyster extremely.
Coyster would have taken just this moment to stretch and yawn before
curling around in her lap. That was it, she'd hold the ball like she
had Coyster to help.
“So,” Win Ton began, “I'm concerned that I've been
remiss in being clear with you, Professor, about some of the time that
Theo and I have spent together.”
Theo saw Kamele's mouth straighten very slightly,
like it did when she was concerned but trying not to interrupt.
Sometimes it worked...
Win Ton's pause was too long for her though, and she leaned forward with a forced nonchalance.
“Could you continue? You have my attention.”
Win Ton bowed, lightly.
“Yes, yes, of course, Professor. My Captain
rightly pointed out to me that Theo has yet to attain her majority on
Delgado, and that since I'd become accustomed to her company, and to
her commonsense, that I was perhaps presuming ...”
Win Ton's careful search for words left him
speechless at just the moment Kamele sat up straighter. This put him
off stride, Theo could see, because he started again.
“My Captain's concern, and mine now that I see my
error, is that I may have presumed too much about Theo's ... autonomy.”
He paused again, looking carefully to Theo. Since
she wasn't sure what point he was making and she wasn't sure she felt
all that autonomous she wasn't of the least bit of help to him, so she
looked down, where the silly ball, rather than the silly
cat, sat on her lap. That thought and nerves made her want to laugh so
she fought to stop that, gripping rhe ball as if in fact she were
wrestling a cantankerous feline.
“Autonomy,” said Kamele carefully. “Indeed, I have
found Theo to be showing distinct signs of autonomy over the last
while, Delgado not withstanding...”
At this Theo managed to cleanse the attempted grin
form her face in time to see a very straight-lipped Kamele wave a
careless hand in her direction.
“ But please, let's not permit Theo's mirth or toy to interfere with your disclosure.”
This isn't good, Theo thought rapidly. It was never a good sign when Kamele started talking like Father.
“Actually, “Win Ton admitted slowly, “in a way this is rather about Theo's toy.”
He stood, which surprised Theo almost as much as it surprised Kamele.
“I took Theo to the Arcade the other day, and we
danced, and it was a fine dance, as you saw. She has a very
mature approach to the dance, intuitive, one might call it. Theo is a
very apt dancer and I think she surprised herself to discover that she
was quite so good. Self-discovery is a good thing, as you know.”
Theo saw Kamele glance up, and nod agreement. That was much better.
“Self discovery is often a good thing,” Kamele said
carefully after a moment. She glanced quickly to Theo, who felt herself
tense, but tried to keep her face calm. It wasn't comfortable being
talked about like she wasn't there. She looked at Win Ton to avoid her
mother's gaze.
“And so,” the Liaden continued, “ Today, after
finding several acquaintances on board, I discovered an opportunity
to continue with the theme of ... mature self-discovery.
And also enjoyment, since Theo so enjoys a challenge.”
Theo felt her shoulders relaxing and realized she
was petting the ball again, in small, quiet motions. Her mother
glanced at her again, but this time Theo looked back.
“And so,” Kamele imitated, “You arranged for a ... mature challenge for Theo.”
Win Ton brightened, and he took pace toward the door, and one back.
“Yes, exactly! And since we found a private room,
and because the pilots were known to me, and Theo is such a joy to
challenge, I didn't think to fully explain to Theo what we were
about, nor to ask your permission beforehand...”
Kamele leaned slowly back into her chair then, her
hands finding each other, her fingers locking together,
interleaved. What scared Theo was that Kamele's face was nearly blank,
and she was staring at her hands rather than at Win Ton, or at Theo.
“I see,” Kamele said quietly, but Win Ton was now
following his course with some vigor, even taking short strides and
using his hands for emphasis
“And thus, with a room, and partners, and a willing
novice, I'm afraid we introduced Theo to a game many never play, a game
many lack the urges and reflexes for. And knowing how physically
apt Theo is, it never struck me to ask permission from you for her to
play bowli ball. Please forgive Theo and lay it all to me....”
Theo saw her mother's face go from blank to ... perplexed.
“You found a private room, so you might play bowli ball with my daughter...”
Theo picked up the not-cat from her lap and tossed
it in the air, very gently, to illustrate the phrase “bowli ball”.
The motion caught her mother's eye, so Theo tossed
it higher, whereupon the ball took it upon itself to perform a mid-air
detour of several hand-widths. Theo wrestled it guiltily to her lap,
saying “One of these!”
In wonder, Kamele again said “Ah, bowli ball.”
“Yes!” Win Ton said with enthusiasm, and plucked the
ball from Theo's grasp, carefully cuddling it to quiet and then placing
it in her mother's hands.
“It is a complex game, Professor,” Win Ton went on
with energy “requiring physical dexterity, concentration, mature
thoughtfulness, luck... it is a favorite game of pilots because of
that!”
Kamele threw the ball from hand to the other and barely managed to corral it.
She was shaking her head as she tried it again, with less energy and less distance.
“What a strange idea. Why should you need permission for Theo to play a simple ball game...”
Theo bristled, and broke in.
“Well it isn't so simple! The ball goes every which
way and you've got to be ready for it, and you've got to see where it
gets thrown and how its rotating and which spiral is next and ...”
Win Ton caught Theo''s glance with a motion of his hands.
“Professor, some call bowli ball a game of wit and
physics. And that might suffice if it were played on a snug lawn
among... office workers, let us say. But, with pilots, the game
can become quite challenging, and this is what I forgot and why I
should have asked permission.”
He paused, made a bow to both of them, and gathered his points together.
“ It is not unknown for those playing the game to
accept a broken shoulder in order to return a pass, to break a leg on
an interception-and-launch, to ...forget harm in order to follow the
flow and make the connection. Truly a game for pilots.”
Kamele held the ball in one hand then, squeezed it, and without preamble threw it. Hard. Toward Theo.
Theo's hands were already moving when she saw
Kamele's shoulders move; by the time the ball was launched she'd moved
in the chair, had both hands ready, judged the spin from stop...
Slap! Was the sound the ball made when she caught
it, and it took an effort of will not to continue the momentum and ...
And Win Ton spun, centering himself, his left hand rising, facing forward, his right coming down in case...
“Not here,” he was cautioning, but by then Theo had
the ball stopped and stable. If it was a cat, it would have been
purring.
Kamele sat, calmly, laughing, right hand on the bridge of her nose as she shook head.
“Oh do sit, Win Ton, please. Please!” Kamele insisted, standing herself.
“Sit!”
He did, which pleased Theo somehow. He had a lot of energy when he stood ...
“Will you have something to drink? Wine, beer,
water? What kind of a hostess you must think I am, not to have a
roomful of pastry...”
“But no, Professor...”
She laughed where she stood.
“No, Win Ton, I beg you, call me Kamele if you like,
if your Captain will permit. You are welcome to my name, as are all the
friends of my daughter.”
“And you, daughter,” she said with the laugh still
echoing in her voice. “Look at you, a dance champion who ensnares
pilots for playmates. It appears you've very nearly beyond coming
to mother for permissions.”
Kamele turned away then, toward the small food center, and Theo looked to Win Ton.
“Hello friend,” she said impulsively. “Thank you for apologizing.”
---------------------------------
Running notes from the authors:
We often
add running notes as a book progresses, often about exactly the kinds
of thing authors don't want readers to see. This is because we
need to have reminders for when we get to the second draft and send
that out to the editor. On a “normal” script we print out the
equivalent of film “rushes”, daily updates of the day's work; and we
use a manuscript box or a ream-paper box, to collect these. Many times
there are sticky notes attached, or less neatly but more firmly,
pennons of red or blue ink running down the margins and underlining,
crossing out, circling, or becoming giant question marks.
These are for us, so you needn't respond.
Among the running notes so far:
Need more ship description. Bulk up colors else
mention monochromatic state? Is the deck padded in passenger
areas?
Does Win Ton sound too much like Jethri? Need
to age him just a bit, perhaps or point out that Liadens don't have
facial hair and so he looks much younger than he is...
Got to be careful with length of the ship sequence,
or maybe do more back-and-forth with Delgado/someplace else.
Gah with meals. Everyone wants to eat this time!
Phrase for next chapter? “ speaking in monosyllabic austerity with Jen
Sar”
end of running notes chapter 22
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Fledgling in serialized format is a draft. This
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should there ever be one. It may be perfect, word for word (though
experience tells us this is not the way the smart money should bet). What we are providing is a rare opportunity to observe the writing process.
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Who are we?
Sharon Lee
and Steve Miller are the authors of a dozen collaborative science
fiction novels, and many short stories, largely set in the Liaden
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drop by the Liaden Universe® website.
Base page created December 1, 2006 by Sharon Lee
Chapter updated July 16, 2007
third technical revision posted July 22 2007
Updated March 15, 2008, 11:55 a.m. EDT
copyright © 2006-2007 by Sharon Lee and Steve Miller
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