by Sharon Lee
Theo heard chatter from the other team members—"Dropping quick; pilot's got an iron stomach" and "Not a sign of drift and we've got a hefty breeze here!"
Kara read more info from the comm. "Often run solo, the Torvin can carry a crew of three plus three passengers on need, built thirty-seven Standards ago at the Korval-Mugston Yards on the Yolanna platform . . ."
Now the ship was taking shape as a gleaming golden stripe angling rapidly above them, a stripe with shiny wing-tip stabilizers on each end and now the stripe showed a bulge above and behind the central nose, all gleaming gold, the beacon under its nose still bright but now echoed by underwing green and red.
"Still zooming!" Vin said, and Theo felt the landing tension in her arms and shoulder, the thing was too low, too fast, too short of the runway and—
"Ah!"
The relief was vocal across a dozen mouths as the glitter caught the light, the ship flaring out and riding the airwave in front of itself, touching down discreetly after passing over the blast pad and the threshold and somewhat ahead of the persistent dark marks occasioned by generations of student pilots.
Theo still had her mouth open as the sound of touchdown reached her, a barely distinguishable barrup as the ship actually settled, as the golden thing gleamed by at twice the rate a Star King landed at . . .
A sudden hissing reached them as a brief cloud obscured the bright beacons well down the airstrip . . .
"Retros," came knowledgeably from behind her. "Look at that thing slow down!"
The sound of the rocket hiss almost obscured another comment.
"Scouts!" said Bova, lowering his glasses and shaking his head. "You like 'em or you hate 'em, whichever, they sure can pilot!"
Theo stared at the ship, still slowing on the runway.
"Scouts?" she said to Kara quietly.
"Come on, Theo, let's go down!"
The Commander strode by the group, headed toward the Ops room, and so did yos'Senchul, who flashed excellent progress plans move forward to the lot of them before heading in.
"Ops must be crushed," Theo said to Kara. They and the rest of the team were waiting while the distant Torvin was attached to a small fleet of tractors and towed toward the shuttle's usual spot.
Now that the spaceship was down, craft were again circling and descending, while several on the flight line were moving slowly toward the live deck for takeoff.
Kara was muttering about dinnertime coming right up and she'd been hoping to get a chance to—
But Theo caught sight of yos'Senchul and the Commander, walking out toward the strip from Ops, carrying on a quick hand-talk.
Certified routing/newest off-limits/warning zones for graduates/direct and secure was the gist of yos'Senchul's communications while the Commander's were more like Noisy obvious unscheduled bad-form non-orbit show-off.
Theo looked away, feeling a bit as if she'd eavesdropped on one of Kamele and Father's private conversations. Likely if she hadn't spent so much time with yos'Senchul she wouldn't have been able to read . . .
"Theo, look, come on, they've got it settled. Let's go see!"
Kara grabbed her by the hand enthusiastically, tugging and not letting go until Theo picked up speed and together they outran most of the team to the orange-chained stanchions.
The ship gleamed in front and overhead, warmth still radiating into the cooling evening, several tiny beacon lights having taken over the duty of the flight lights. Theo could see herself in the fuselage where it bulged to become wings, she could see Kara too, and the Commander and yos'Senchul standing with a small group of seniors dressed with their formals and wings close behind.
"Look at the size of this thing," a pilot used to Star Kings said, and Theo blurted out, "This is so tiny! It could fit in a cruise ship ballroom!"
That started a heated discussion, and quotes of cubes and relative engine power and, "I've sat jump seat on something bigger than this . . ."
Theo basked in the glow of the ship. Yes, this is it. Something like this. She felt as if her pores absorbed the moment and her hands already knew the need to fly such a thing.
The Ops guy came out to the stanchions, comm in his hand, and then opened the gate for the Commander.
"Sorry," he said, "the tug crew forgot this is Liaden, so the ground hatch is on the other—"
yos'Senchul waved him away with a salute and hand-sign, leading the small contingent to the proper side of the ship, just as there came a hiss, then a whir that must have been the hatch opening.
The strip-side crowd quieted as the gangway slid almost all the way to the ground, and then there was hand-shaking and bows, all seen on the other side of the ship. Two of the seniors became honor guard to the ship, flanking the gangway. The others fell in behind the Commander and yos'Senchul and the pilot with his rakish hat, as they walked back toward the stanchions.
"Theo—what?" Kara whispered at her, then jammed an elbow into her side.
The man moved like a pilot, after all, that must be it—her stomach though, apparently had another theory.
"Theo?"
She stood very still, watching as the group came through the gate.
"He looks familiar. He kinda walks like a friend of mine," she managed.
Kara snickered. "Oh, he does?"
The pilot had been scanning as well as walking and talking with his hosts, she could see that. Suddenly his eyes met hers; he did a dance-step pause, a half-smile twitching at the corners of his lips as he looked at her fully face on.
"Pilot Waitley, my compliments." This was spoken in a formal measure as he bowed quickly. "I am extremely pleased to find you here, Theo," followed in a lower tone, for her ears only, then, loud enough to strike the ears of those crowding behind her, "I hope to be in touch."
"Hi, Win Ton!" she got out, waving as the procession swept on, the grin on her face not at all subdued.
The Commander also nodded at her, perhaps sternly, and yos'Senchul bowed an acknowledgment, his hand fluttering with a this pilot clarifies this pilot clarifies, and the honor guard looked at her perhaps in consternation as they got back into step.
Then they were gone and Kara was yelling in her ear, "Who was that? You know him? Who? Why didn't you say something?"
"I've never seen Win Ton in a hat before," Theo managed, realizing she was giggling.
"You do know him! How?" Kara was delighted and demanding at once. "That was a bow between equals!"
Theo laughed. "He's a friend, Kara. He gave me my bowli ball. We beat the dance machine together."
Some of the other DCCT people crowded in close to find out what was happening, but the gate was being drawn back and more waiting students surged past, and she didn't have to answer, "What dance machine?" right then.
"Rule is you can look but not touch!" yelled the Ops guy on guard as the official contingent moved into the building.
"The pilot will give tours as time permits," he went on. "Tomorrow."
Nineteen
Erkes Dormitory, Suite 302
Anlingdin Piloting Academy
She'd put on her best pair of black slacks, and was dithering between the black shirt and the cream-colored sweater when Asu came in and leaned a hip against the door.
"It is true!" she said, with such a note of finality in her voice that Theo blinked, trying to recall if she'd called the other girl on something at breakfast.
Well, only one way to find out, she thought, refolding the black shirt.
"What's true?" she asked over her shoulder.
"The Scout courier is your friend! The one who sends you jewelry!"
"The one who sent me a pair of wings, you mean?" Theo shook out the sweater.
Asu frowned. "What are you doing?"
"Getting dressed."
"You're going to wear that?" Asu asked, like the cream sweater was—gym clothes or something.
"What's wrong with it?"
"Nothing's wrong with it," Asu said in her too-patient voice. "It's a nice, warm, servic
eable sweater with a high neck and long sleeves."
"I'm not taking your point," Theo said, yanking the sweater over her head, as the hall door giggled. She emerged, and looked over her shoulder.
"Hey, Chelly!" she called, pulling the sweater straight.
"Chelly," Asu commanded, without turning her head, "come here and be of use!"
"What now?" he wondered, pausing beside her and giving Theo a nod.
Asu flung out a dramatic hand, encompassing Theo, their shared room, and quite possibly the entire Anlingdin campus. "Look at that sweater!"
Chelly blinked. "Looks okay to me."
"For a date with a star pilot?"
"Well, why not?" Chelly said reasonably, and shook his head. "Should've known you'd get that rumor," he added.
Asu looked at him over her shoulder. "It is not a rumor! He spoke to her in front of the Commander, yos'Senchul and all gathered! He called her by name and said he'd be in touch!"
"Said he hoped to be in touch," Theo corrected hastily. "Which doesn't mean he's going to be able to get in touch. He's here on business, after all. Nothing to say that the Commander won't be sending him off tonight. She might have—" She gulped, suddenly panicked.
"Easy, it's still on the field," Chelly told her lightly.
Theo sighed, and went over to the mirror to fix the wings to the sweater's collar.
"The way he flies we would have heard the boom when he lifted," Asu said, acidic. "Honestly, Theo, you might have told me he was coming!"
Theo stared at her. "I didn't know he was coming!" she protested. "Why would I?"
"You correspond," Asu said loftily. "He sends you gifts."
"One gift," Theo corrected. "And, in case you hadn't noticed, that is a courier ship. He might not've known himself that he was coming to Anlingdin until he got his flight orders."
"True enough," Chelly said, firmly. "Give it up, Asu." He gave Theo another look over the other girl's shoulder. "Sweater looks nice, Theo. Don't let her bully you."
"Bully!" Asu swung around, but Chelly was already back in the joint room, pulling open the shared coldbox.
"I will have you know," Asu said, following him, "that I do not bully Theo."
"Yeah?" Theo could imagine the look of skeptical interest on Chelly's face as she turned back to the mirror.
The sweater did look nice, she thought, and the wings, too. Her hair, of course, was a disaster area . . . She ran her fingers through it, trying to force it into seemliness. From the other room, Chelly and Asu's voices continued. In the mirror, her hair sprang back into wild disorder the second she took her hands away.
Sighing, she walked out to join her roommates.
"So, Chelly, what're you doing here?" she asked.
"Going to get the rest of my things out," he said, giving her a straight look. "I talked to the house father, Theo. You'll take my slot, Asu'll move up to First Bunk, and you'll be getting a new Second Bunk start of next term."
"Theo's not a senior," Asu objected.
Chelly gave her a bland look. "Don't gotta be a senior to be unit senior," he said.
Asu drew a breath.
And the doorbell rang.
"A pleasant evening to the house." He bowed slightly to Asu, who'd beat them both to the door. "I am Win Ton yo'Vala, come to call upon Theo Waitley, if she will see me."
"I see you," Theo said softly, feeling kind of fluttery and light in the chest. Win Ton, she noticed, had changed out of what must've been his dress uniform, into a dark sweater and pants—and his jacket. He looked at her over Asu's shoulder with a smile.
"I see you, also, Sweet Mystery. Is this everything that will be allowed us?"
She laughed. "Asu, you're not my aunt! Let him in."
"Certainly," the taller girl said. She took a fluid step back, and swept her arm out, head inclined very slightly. "I am Asu diamon Dayez. Be welcome, Pilot yo'Vala."
"My thanks." Win Ton stepped inside, brown eyes flicking to Chelly, who gave him a matter-of-fact nod.
"Chelly Frosher, Pilot Admin trainee." He paused, and added, thoughtfully. "Friend of Theo's."
"I am pleased to meet you, Admin Frosher," Win Ton assured him gravely.
He turned slightly, and Theo felt her stomach tighten, which was silly. This was Win Ton, not some stranger, or—
"Pilot yo'Vala!" Asu said, sharply.
Win Ton's eyebrows rose, and he turned, perhaps faster than he had intended. Asu went back a step, and he became very still, hands belt high, palms out, fingers spread in the sign for no threat.
"I was wondering," Asu said, sounding breathless, "if it is in fact yourself who taught Theo to play bowli ball." She tossed her head and smiled, nervously to Theo's eye. "She's coy with names, our Theo."
"Ah, is she?" He sent a quick look to Theo, the corner of his mouth tight with the effort of holding the laugh in. "Shall I reveal all?"
Theo felt her cheeks heat, but she met his eyes firmly. "All?"
He flung a hand up, as if in surrender. "No, you are correct! Word might yet reach my captain! But, to answer Pilot Trainee diamon Dayez—in fact, I was one of three pilots who introduced Theo to the joys of bowli ball. As you know, the best game can be had with a foursome, and the other pilots must need work around their shifts, so we did not play as often as any of us would have preferred."
There was a small silence, broken at last by Chelly. "Theo learned to play bowli ball from a Scout and two working pilots."
"Indeed." Win Ton turned, gently, to face him. "It would hardly have done to allow her to play with the passengers."
"Make that, a Scout and two cruise line pilots," Chelly added, and laughed softly. He shook his head at Theo. "No wonder you got an attitude problem, Waitley."
"I don't have an attitude problem," Theo told him, but Chelly only laughed again.
"Who here has not had their temper fail them?" Win Ton asked, possibly rhetorically. "Theo, are you hungry?"
"Yes," she said, though she wasn't, exactly.
"Then we are well-met, and well-matched! I am famished. As I am in receipt of the coords to a binjali restaurant, perhaps you will join me for dinner?"
Light spilled from the ship's at-rest lights, casting a circle that faded from ruby to pink along the tarmac. Walking at Win Ton's side, Theo crossed that magic circle and tried not to stare around while he spoke with the security team.
"This pilot and I will be lifting to coords provided by Master Pilot yos'Senchul very shortly. Thank you for your care of my ship."
"That's all right, Pilot," one of the two answered, both saluting with a snap. "Will you be returning?"
"This evening, yes. We will, of course, file with the Tower."
It was said gently enough, but the guards seemed to take it as a rebuke or setdown. Another pair of salutes and they were gone, marching briskly down toward Ops while Theo followed Win Ton up the ramp and into the ship.
The lights came up as they entered the piloting chamber, Theo walking as lightly as she could, as if she would bruise the ship if she set her feet too firmly. It seemed as if Win Ton had forgotten her; he walked to the board, leaned over and touched a rapid sequence of keys and toggles. The ship woke with a soft, welcoming chime. He turned and gave her a smile as bright as the one she remembered.
"Hovering at the door? But that will never do! Come, you must sit second for me!"
Theo stared at him, suspecting a joke at her expense. "I can't sit second on a spaceship," she stammered. "I don't have the hours, or—"
"Tut and tut, Sweet Mystery!" He came back and took her hand. His fingers were warm, patterned with callus.
"The pilot has asked you to sit second," he said, looking into her face with all of Win Ton's mischief. "It is, of course, a signal honor."
"Well, it is," she answered, defensively, but she let him lead her over to the second chair and show her how to adjust it, and where the webbing was. She tried to relax while he settled into the pilot's chair, her eyes drawn to the board, and something lik
e . . . hunger in her middle . . .
"Now," Win Ton said calmly, his fingers dancing on a touchpad. "The pilot would take it kindly if Pilot Waitley would ride comm, and clear us with the tower. Coords—"
"Win Ton," Theo's voice cracked. She cleared her throat and tried again, watching the side of his face, seeing concentration and . . . something else. "Win Ton."
He glanced up, eyes soft with concentration. "Yes?"
"What are you doing?" she asked carefully, twisting her hands together on her lap so she wouldn't reach out and touch that tantalizing board, though she wanted to!
His gaze sharpened somewhat. "I am offering opportunity," he said, his tone precisely as careful as hers. "Will you grasp it? Or will you be shy and orderly?"
She knew better than to take a dare . . . well, mostly she did. But, that board . . . She swallowed and nodded, leaning forward.
"Comm is lit yellow," he said quietly. "The rest of the board is slaved to mine, so you may follow, if you like."
"Yeah . . ." she whispered, and raised a hand to finger the yellow toggles.
"Tower, this is Theo Waitley, sitting second on Torvin." She paused, glancing to the amused Scout, who signaled there now, and her screen lit with ship numbers and info in proper sequence for her to read out, which she did, adding, "Out of, Solcintra, Liad, local berth Number 9F. Torvin's pilot requests a tow to a launch pad at your earliest convenience."
There was a moment of perhaps shocked silence, then a voice she didn't know answered calmly in the affirmative. "Acknowledge, there, Torvin, we see ship systems coming live. We'll call out the horses and camels now, if you can wait that long."
Theo was grinning like a fool, and only part of that was the joke and Win Ton's resultant raised eyebrows.
"Where are we going? By way of where?"
"Very good, Second!" Win Ton said. The info flowed to her screen and she recognized the sequence out of class a few days before, catching her breath, and then laughing.
"Ballistic? That's some g-work, isn't it?" She must have whispered because Win Ton half-bowed, and whispered in reply, "Yes, it is."
