The needles moved as Theo looked at the screen intently, trying to gauge
what would happen if she moved her supposed craft from Chora to Klisko while ... sigh.

    The tables – the original ven'Tura Tables themselves – were just lists: numbered lists of numbers, lettered lists of numbers, cross-listed lists of numbers and dates, and more lists of numbers.  They weren't nearly as interesting as their history, and for once Theo was glad she'd been more than a little attentive during some of her mother's informal get-togethers where the always-fluid topic of "the history of history" was under discussion.  You could always count on someone saying that "you can't judge entirely by today; you have to look at things from the perspective of the times."  And, Father would add if he was there, "the culture."

    So she'd done more than the required reading, trying to place the need into  context.  Culture didn't seem to matter, unless you thought of piloting as a culture, but the times --  there'd been an urgent need for clarifying the gravity effects and string constants once the natural expansion of trade and commerce had brought ships more than a few hundred light years from home. 

    Ships had been lost, or found far too late for the crew to be rescued, because no one had formalized what the problems were.  One ship in a thousand was lost routinely.  And all people said -- even pilots! -- was that piloting was dangerous.  Which it was.  But what nobody looked at was why it was dangerous, and if the odds couldn't be leveled a little, in favor of pilots surviving and ships winning through. 

    Nobody, that was, until Master Pilot ven'Tura had dared to not only log, but share with Terrans, the information he and his clan had gathered over dozens of years.

    Eventually he'd become the clearing house and editor for the monumental and necessary task, and his tables became rote companion to thousands of pilots over generations.

    Then, over time, the loss of pilots and ships trended upward again. Most assumed it was because there were more ships and more pilots, less training, and... all kinds of things. It had taken someone with keen insight to see that there were tiny and fundamental flaws in the way the ven'Tura Tables were being applied, in the way they were being read by modern equipment....

    And so, the Tables had been revised. Recently, within the lifetime of pilots still flying. And they were making a difference.  Had already made a difference.  The number of ships lost was down again, in a statistically meaningful way.  The person who had done the revision -- Scholar Caylon -- had been a statistician, it said in the text, and it said she had tracked the trends of her work, right up until she died.

    Theo looked at the screen, stopping work for a moment, looking from her hands to the screen.  She considered a minute, before pressing the process button, importing the familiar "standard cluster" the class, indeed, the whole school seemed to depend on for training, into the second set of assumptions. How concrete were the numbers when applied to a tiny, sanitary, best-case situation?

    But there, the work in her hands was concrete, and she was trying to consider ...

    A noise sounded in the hall,a thump – she shook her head. The kids – she felt like she could call them that even though some were several years older than her – the local kids had been all agog over a sporting event and charging all around the building cheering all day long. This was getting to be a bit --

    The noise repeated; and resolved: someone was at her door.  Theo sighed, reached out and locked the screen, gathering her lace into one hand.

    The click came before she was on her feet, and a tired-looking Chelly smiled up at her as he lifted several large bags into the entry, where they thunked solidly on the floor.

    "Chelly, they let you come back!"

    She felt her face warm slightly – it sounded like she was surprised to see him, after all...
    "Treat to see you, too, First Bunk!"

    "Well, I am," she insisted, "glad to see you."

    He laughed and shook his head, "Don't worry, I'm sort of glad to see you too."  He shouldered the door shut, making sure it clicked tight, and stepped into the room, leaving his bags by the door, where Asu could complain that she'd almost fallen over them when she came back.

    "Not out at the game?" he asked, and peered over the top of her screen.  "Oh. Orbital dynamics, huh?"

    "I wish," Theo said, settling back into her seat.  "History of piloting."

    He blinked.  "Yeah?  With that screen?"   

    "We're doing the ven'Tura Tables," Theo said, unfolding the lace bit and spreading it out.  It was ...almost right.  She leaned forward and unlocked the screen, frowning between the configuration of stars and what she had in hand.

    "Still playing with the needles?"

    "No," Theo said absently.  "Not playing.  Seeing."  She squinted up at Chelly.

    "Why does everybody act like space is flat?"

    "Huh?  Who said space was -- Oh, I get it."  Chelly held up his hands.  "You gotta learn your basics first -- the tables and the board drills.  The math, if you don't mind my saying.  After you got all that --"

    "The math isn't flat!" Theo broke in, feeling a surge of heat, like temper.  She bit her lip; it wasn't Chelly's fault and yet --

    "What d'ya mean, the math isn't flat?"  Chelly was looking at her sideways, which he did when he thought you might be pushing a line.

    "The whole point of the ven'Tura Tables -- the reason they needed revision -- is that space isn't flat -- and it isn't static!  And to describe what a non-static, dimensioned space is doing, you need a math that isn't flat!  That's what Scholar Caylon did!  She didn't so much revise the Tables, as she revised the math that described the relationships, and the changes -- here!"

    She held out her incomplete lace, shaking it at Chelly's bemused face.  "Look at this!  See how the lines hook here -- and here -- and over here?  And then look, if -- oh, Chaos, it isn't done!  But, anyway, if you --"

    "Wait."  Chelly held up his hands again, his eyes moving from the lace to the screen.  "Wait.  That's a star chart you're making."

    "Well..."  Theo blinked at him, caught breathless by the tone of his voice.  "Sort of, I guess.  I think of it as the shape of the relationships, but -- that's what a star chart is, isn't it?"

    "And this is the kid who needs to pull up her math scores."  Chelly might've been talking to himself.  He reached beyond Theo and touched the control on the screen, locking the image again, then put a hand on her wrist and exerted light pressure until she lowered the lace to her lap.

    "OK.  Theo, listen up -- got a bunch of info to dump and I'm on a short watch.  First thing is, I'm still going to be on the roster here, but mostly I'm going to be at Academy Tech Command Center, at the landing field.  I've been put into one of the Student Adjunct spots; I'm basically on call all but fifty hours a week."

    "But, that's a promotion," she sputtered, " I thought you were in trouble!"

    He looked to the door where the sound of rushing feet could be heard...

    "Could have been trouble, could have worked out that way."  He paused, scuffed at the floor absently with his shoe. "This is fly or fall time for me.  Call it a promotion if you want. My records got reviewed a couple dozen times, and when they looked at everything, they decided to keep me close, and give me work. That's what I'm here for, after all."
  
    "So, I get to sleep on the duty cot most nights.  That means you're still gonna be in charge here.  You been getting the Senior notices?"

    She nodded.

    "Good.  Now, my bunk still being officially here in Erkes, that means you won't get another body in to deal with right away -- not 'til end of next term, when I fly out.  I've got it set up that you're reporting to me -- you tell Asu that, too.  She gives you trouble, bump it to me."

    "I don't think she'll give me trouble," Theo said.  "She's not dumb."

    "No, but she don't think," Chelly answered, which she couldn't say wasn't so.  "Next thing I gotta tell you -- that lace-making thing you're doing.  The star map?"

    Theo felt her face heat.  "It helps me think to --"

    "No, no.  Hear me say it, first, Theo, then argue -- right?"  He didn't wait for her to nod, just kept on going.  "You need to talk to somebody -- one of the advisers up --"

    "I have an adviser," Theo interrupted.

    "Sure you do.  And if you'll stop arguing for a second and let me tell it, you'll find out where I'm going with this."

    She bit her lip.  "Right, I'll listen," she muttered.

    "Yeah, that won't last," Chelly said cryptically, pulling a pen and a card out of his pocket.  He frowned at the card, flipped it over and wrote something on it.  "I'm giving you her name and office number.  You go tomorrow, and you ask to get an intro hearing -- seven minutes.  What you want to tell her is just what you told me, about space not being stable, and what the revisions to the ven'Tura's did, got that?  Take your lace-thing there with you and show it.  You're not going to say or explain anything else.  Just that.  Then you wait and you listen to what she's got to tell you, Theo, right?  I'll send her an intro tonight when I get back, so she's expecting you -- and you're not gonna make me sorry I did this."

    "No," Theo said softly, feeling a lump in her chest.  "No, I won't, Chelly.  Thanks."

    "Sheesh.  I think I like it better when you're showing attitude."  He held out the card.  "Tomorrow, Theo.  Skip lunch if you gotta."

    "Right," she said, and slipped the card out of his fingers.  "But --"

    The door clicked and there was Asu, nimbly avoiding Chelly's bags, her dark face glowing and a violet-and-green lei around her neck.

    "We won!"  she caroled.  "And Chelly is returned to us!  The day is perfectly attuned!"

    Chelly snorted.

    "Close the door," he said, though Asu had already turned to do so.  "I was just telling Theo that I'm temp-posted to Tech Command, right at the field.  My official berth is here, but most times it'll just be the two of you.  Theo's in charge as Top Bunk, and she reports to me.  We got it all set up, and  I cleared it with my command line, and with Housing."

    "Of course Theo is in charge," Asu said, with the false sincerity that made Theo's teeth ache.  "Theo is very responsible."

    "Theo's First Bunk," Chelly said dampeningly.  "Duty of privilege."

    "While Second Bunk is a social butterfly," Asu answered, looking down at Theo's lap as she walked by.  She shook her head.  "Still you sit with the needles?  Theo, you must study if you --"

    "We been over that," Chelly interrupted forcefully.  "Now --" He looked up at the clock, which displayed official school time, and said something under his breath.

    "Look, you two, I gotta move.  Theo, you move those bags into my room, then lock it down."

    "Why must you leave so soon?" Asu asked.  "Duty?"

    "As a matter of fact.  The Student Adjunct is on the Student Review Board.  Vinz Mancha is challenging tonight and it's my watch."   

    "Challenging?"  Asu frowned.  "Why?"

    "What's challenging?" Theo said at the same time.

    Chelly shook his head at both of them.  "There's trouble at home, and she's wild to get back there and help out.  That's what she told me.  And she's gotta go as a pilot, 'cause her folks haven't sent any money for fare.  So, she's going challenge -- that's when you call the school's bluff, Theo.  You bet you're good enough to walk out of the challenge set a pilot, even if you haven't finished your classwork.  It's in the school charter, which I guess you didn't bother to read.  Vinz -- she's good.  She'll be fine." 

    Despite saying so, he didn't look all that certain, thought Theo.

    "She'll be fine," he repeated, and shook himself, moving with quick grace toward the door.  "Theo, you remember what I told you.  Asu, stay outta trouble for a change.  I'm gone."

    The door opened, and snapped firmly shut.