Fledgling

by Sharon

  He sounded, Kamele thought, genuinely aggrieved, and despite herself she chuckled.

  Three pair of eyes came to rest on her face, which was—disconcerting, but she had brought it on herself.

  "I'm sorry," she said to Win Ton, who had probably thought she was laughing at him. "I'm reminded of—of a dear friend of mine who makes similar complaints about the equipment we have at home." She sipped her coffee, marking how the boy's gaze never faltered. "His answer is usually to . . . correct . . . the poor performance into something he finds more reasonable."

  Win Ton's face grew thoughtful.

  "I will ask my apprentice," Cho sig'Radia said, with emphasis, "to recall that he is a guest and a passenger upon this vessel."

  He turned to her. "But, Captain—"

  She raised a hand. "Spare the poor device, my child; it is a game only, and never meant to withstand a full testing."

  "But—"

  "It wasn't a test," Theo interrupted. "We were just trying to work off the—the buzz from the norbears!" She looked at Cho seriously. "And it was just what we needed. Making lace wouldn't have done at all!"

  There was a small silence during which, Kamele strongly suspected, Cho sig'Radia struggled courageously with her emotions.

  "Ah," she said at last, inclining her head. "You must tell me more about this lace making, if you would, young Theo. I have, as you may understand, some interest in strategies for bleeding excess energy."

  Twenty-Two

  Vashtara

  EdRec Level

  Library

  Win Ton really called that one! Theo thought as she moved out of the lecture hall. Hindsight clearly showed that she should've gone with him to the "Antique Recipe Workshop."

  Pffft. If she was ever a teacher she was going to lecture better than Mr. Chorli. He hadn't been very good with the norbear presentation and he'd been even worse with "All The Languages of Space." Not only didn't he speak anything but what he called "pure Terran," he used some kind of promptomatic on his speakeasy display so all he had to do was read ahead a few seconds to sound like he knew his subject. She could get better than that off any classroom channel at home any hour of the day. Worse than all of that, though—he hadn't taken questions.

  Not that he probably knew anything about nonverbal languages.

  Well, she'd just have to download the extra study packet off of the Library site when she got back to the stateroom. She was at liberty until six bells, though she was supposed to meet Win Ton in front of the Arcade after their respective lectures were over.

  "All the Languages of Space" had ended some minutes short of its advertised time frame, which she guessed was just as well. It did, however, mean that she had a little bit of time to make good on a promise.

  She glanced around her, located the pointer, and was shortly in the Pet Library, the norbears' eco-section before her, status light glowing a cheery yellow for accepting visitors.

  Theo smiled. She'd just look in and see if anybody was awake. Carefully, she eased the gate open and slipped inside the eco-space.

  If she hadn't known better, she would have said that the enclosure was empty; a first glance showed only the ragged vegetation, the sticklike shrubbery, and a little pool of gently flowing water. It was quiet, too; the only noise she heard for three heartbeats was a sort of soft under-mumble, which was probably the pump powering the pool.

  Three or four careful steps into the space, Theo sank to her knees on the crinkly floor.

  "Hey," she called softly. "Anybody home? I promised I'd come back."

  Nothing moved. Theo sighed. She'd thought she'd at least see the little norbear who had seemed so sad when she'd left, before. Still, she reminded herself, naps were pretty serious for cats—and probably for norbears, too. Just because the Pet Librarian decided they were receiving visitors didn't mean that the norbears agreed.

  She shifted slightly on her knees, waking a rustle.

  "Maybe next time," she said, gently, and began to rise.

  Somebody . . . sneezed, tiny and delicate.

  She froze.

  The vegetation rustled, and a pair of round ears hove into view, quivering.

  Theo held her breath as the rest of the norbear became visible, sneezed again, then bumbled into action, charging across the crinkly floor at full norbear throttle.

  She laughed and held her hand down. The skinny one who had wanted her to stay barreled straight onto her palm. Carefully, she brought the little creature to her shoulder, already hearing the buzz inside her head, and feeling a warm pulse of pleasure. The norbear was glad she had come back. Theo was glad she had come back. She sighed as the tiny fingers gripped her hair, the audible part of the purr tickling her ear.

  "I can't stay long," she said, keeping her voice soft so as not to wake any of the other norbears. "But I didn't want you to think I'd forgotten you."

  Her palm tickled, like she was holding fur, and the feeling of warm well-being increased. Theo smiled.

  "You didn't forget me, either. That makes me feel good. I'll come back again, if you want me to, but I'm going to have to go in a couple minutes to meet Win Ton."

  The purring quickened; the feeling of half-sleepy comfort shifting into a kind of bouncy inquisitiveness. Maybe, Theo thought, the norbear was describing Win Ton, as he was perceived by norbears. The tempo changed again, brightening; Theo felt a sparkle of energy, and breathed a laugh.

  "Oh, no, you don't," she said, reaching up and schooching the norbear from her shoulder to her hand. "The last time we were here, you gave us so much energy we had to dance it off. We beat the machine and now Captain Cho says we can't dance it anymore!"

  The purring took on a quizzical tone.

  "Well . . . she said we'd be making a display of ourselves. But Win Ton says he's got something that's even better than dancing, which is why I'm supposed to meet him."

  She put the norbear gently down on the floor-stuff, and shivered pleasurably when the little creature once again wrapped her fingers around the base of Theo's thumb.

  "I'll visit you again," she said; "promise. But next time, you need to wake up quicker!"

  The norbear flicked her ears, rubbed her head against Theo's fingertips and let go, settling back on her hind legs.

  Theo rose, not without a pang, and let herself out of the eco-section. When she looked back through the transparent door, she could still see the norbear, sitting tall, watching her.

  * * *

  Theo left the Pet Library, walking with the light, quick stride she'd learned from Win Ton. It wasn't quite like dancing; in fact, it was like math. A lot like math, where the rest of the objects and pedestrians in an area three strides ahead and to either side of you were points. And it was your job to navigate through the space created by those points. Frowning, she wondered how she'd explain it to Bek. Maybe she'd just have to show him.

  She passed one of the 'vator banks as the doors opened and what looked like a whole secondary school was disgorged. The crowd swept 'round her, walking quickly, voices raised in a confusion of language and dialect—not one of them, Theo thought, spitefully—"pure Terran." In fact, it did looked like a secondary school, she saw: There were some adults mixed in, but mostly the crowd was made up of kids her age or a little older, wearing sweaters in what must be their Team colors. They sorted themselves as they streamed past, yellow sweaters finding other yellows; magentas grouping together; blues swirling 'round each other like water.

  She increased her pace, but they soon outstripped her, hurrying past the Arcade, toward the retail areas beyond.

  Theo slowed and let them go. She was supposed to meet Win Ton in front of the Arcade; it was no sense running a race when she was almost there, and not at all late, despite her visit with the norbear.

  From behind her came the sound of rapid footsteps—maybe some of the kids had gotten separated from their group, Theo thought, and swung toward the wall, so she wouldn't impede them. That would be anti-social.

  Behind her, the
rushing footsteps slowed considerably, and a boy spoke softly—though still loud enough for her to hear.

  "Hey, hey, Jumbo. There she is! That cute Liaden girl you were faunching after—she's right there. I told you she wouldn't be able to stay away. People get addicted to that dance thing. And her boyfriend's not with her!"

  Theo scanned the crowd ahead, looking for the "Liaden girl." The rushing Teams had mostly been Terran, she thought, though she hadn't seen everybody, and it would've been hard to pick a specifically Liaden girl out of the crowd. How would you tell? Even Father, who, as he had assured her gravely, stood every inch a Liaden, sometimes startled inadvertent people, who just assumed that he was Terran.

  People, Theo thought, weren't generally very advertent.

  The Arcade was in sight, and there was Win Ton, in his jacket today and—but, no! That person's hair was more red and less brown than Win Ton's hair, though he was wearing a similar jacket. He was shoulder-to-shoulder with a black-haired woman, both of them on the alert for someone, by the way they stood.

  "Catch her before she goes in the Arcade!" another boy—maybe Jumbo?—cried.

  The footsteps quickened again, scuffling in haste, and suddenly her view of the Arcade and the interesting people before it was blocked by a group of three young men in tight black pants and glittery, open-necked shirts. They looked faintly familiar—maybe she'd seen them in one of the shopping malls, or at lunch; but she was certain she'd never spoken to any of them.

  The tallest of the three, which put him 'way taller than her, stood slightly forward, blocking her way, and smiled like he expected her to recognize him. He had a square face, made squarer by the fact that he'd slicked his hair back so it was flat to his head. Two blue stripes were painted from the outside corners of his eyes to the tips of his ears and he had an earring that matched his glittery shirt dangling in his left ear.

  She'd seen him somewhere, Theo thought, glancing over his shoulder at his friends, who seemed to be having a hard time not laughing.

  "Mamzel," the tallest boy said abruptly, his voice sounding breathless, "may I offer you congratulations on a great dance? I've never seen a girl dance so well before."

  Oh. The captain had explained that they might expect people seeking them out to congratulate them on "beating" the dance machine.

  "It is to be a wonder, young Theo; some people will wish to share your glory by speaking of it to you. There are those who will admire the performance even of the sullen young apprentice, though he owns himself barely tested." Captain Cho had paused to look pointedly at Win Ton before continuing, "This is yet another reason to refrain from repeating such a display of virtuosity. Rest, both, upon your accomplishments; be gracious to those who seek you out—and find some other avenue for excess energy."

  Theo gave the boy before her a smile and a nod.

  "Thank you," she managed, trying to sound gracious; "we had a lot of fun."

  Again, she looked beyond him, hoping for Win Ton, but seeing only the friends of her admirer, and feeling—feeling more nervous than gracious.

  She moved two steps to the right, but one of the friends matched the move, so that she couldn't leave, unless she wanted to duck around him and look like a kid.

  "I was wondering . . ." said the tall youth. He bowed a silly, off-centered bow, like he was fragile, or didn't know how to stand on his feet. His friends tried to follow suit and looked even sillier. "Would you care to join us for a dance on level two or three?"

  Theo took a breath. This isn't, she reminded herself, the late bus from Nonactown. This is an open hallway. Lots of people can see you, right here, right now. There's no way they can cover up all those eyes.

  Another breath, and she gave the tall boy Father's nodding half-bow, because Captain Cho had said "gracious."

  "I'm honored," she managed, "but I don't—I'm not sure it would be fair. I'm—"

  The leader's smile dropped away into a hard, angry line. He leaned forward, looming over her, and interrupted loudly.

  "Not fair to dance with us? Are you that good, do you think? Grizzat's bones, I've heard Liadens are stuck up, but—"

  Theo dropped back a half-step, sliding into a move from the Suwello, which spun her sideways to the tallest boy. The one who had blocked her had dropped back, but whether that was because he didn't want to be part of the argument, or he wanted to give his friend space, Theo couldn't tell—and didn't care. His absence created an opening. She could dance to the left, spin right and—

  "Boyfriend!" came sotto-voice from the friend on the left, barely ahead of another, familiar, and welcome voice.

  "I'd measure 'not fair' as a polite enough no," Win Ton said, with a certain bland emphasis. He paused at her side and set his shoulder against hers. "Liaden or otherwise. As our dancer was waiting for me, as I feel certain she was about—Oh, Pilots!"

  He bowed, pretty as a dance move, to the left of the three boys, where the red-headed person she'd almost mistaken for Win Ton and his companion came.

  "Pilot, well met," the woman said. She returned his bow precisely, the black hair curving over her shoulder showing highlights of blue.

  The three boys suddenly went back a step, then another.

  "Win Ton!" her teammate cried, with a grin. "We were told we might find you and your fair partner here!" The bow he swept was full of flourish, and aimed, Theo saw with a blink, at her. "Star Dancer, allow me to be honored beyond my powers of expression!"

  "If only it were so!" the woman added.

  Theo giggled. The red-haired man straightened, fingers flickering with rapid purpose.

  "Precisely," Win Ton answered, and turned his head toward the visibly nervous boys.

  "Young sirs, our party has found us, and we are wanted elsewhere," he said crisply. "The very best of good luck to you, in your crusade to conquer Level Two."

  * * *

  "Well, there wasn't really a problem," Theo said half-huffily as they strode toward and through a grav-change spot. None of her companions commented on it, so she didn't either. Of course, none of her companions had commented on the boys who had wanted to dance, either. But Theo . . . her stomach was still unsettled, though really, she told herself for the fourth time, there hadn't been any danger.

  "They just wanted me to dance with them," she said, "and I was trying to say that it wouldn't be fair to start a dance when I was expecting a friend and would have to leave. But he misunderstood what I said, and he wouldn't let me finish . . ."

  Win Ton looked beyond her to the other members of their party, a hand sign directing them and her left at the next intersection. The gravity changed there, too, lightening.

  "You spoke nothing but truth, Theo," Win Ton said. "Indeed, you might have stopped in good conscience with 'not fair.' Those three will never be pilots—nor dancers. It is therefore nothing more than the duty of one who is a most exquisite dancer to protect them from harmful ambition."

  Theo glanced at him, and took a deliberate breath, trying to let the last of the upset feeling go.

  "You're right," she said. "It's nothing that needs to go to Delm Korval."

  Win Ton blinked, eyes widening.

  "Certainly not," he agreed. He touched his tongue to his lips, then looked past her, speaking to Cordrey, the red-haired man, and his friend Phobai.

  "Hear me, Pilots, we went shoulder to shoulder to Level thirty-six, and might have gone to Level fifty, had the machine not been burdened with a governor. Those clumsy halflings could have learned nothing from dancing with Theo! You could see that they wanted only to be admired!"

  "Your eyesight that bad, Pilot?" Cordrey asked, giving Theo a grin and a wink. "Looked to me like what they really wanted to do was admire Theo, all to themselves."

  Win Ton did an odd little shrug-and-bow on the move. "Point taken," he admitted. "Ah, we'll want my pass here."

  He dropped one step behind Theo and took two long steps to Cordrey's side, a key card appearing between his fingers as they approached the gate across th
e hall. Phobai shifted her position so now she was walking next to Theo.

  "Still feeling a little fizzy, aren't you?" the black-haired woman asked.

  Theo bit her lip, and nodded.

  "Thought so. Those guys weren't anything you couldn't handle, even if we hadn't happened along. The fizz, though, that'll be good for what we're on course for."

  Ahead of them, the gate snapped open, and Win Ton waved them through.

  "Quickly, friends! Now . . ."

  He moved ahead of their little party, Cordrey at his heels. Phobai stayed with Theo, walking as close as a mother.

  "What—course are we on?" Theo asked. Phobai smiled, slow and lazy.

  "You'll like it," she said, which wasn't an answer at all. "Not far now, I don't think."

  "Fourteen," Win Ton said to Cordrey; "though fourteen-b, I'm told, is the actual entrance we wish to use."

  They walked on, quiet and companionable. Theo felt a comfortable bounce to her step that wasn't just the light gravity. It did feel good to stretch her legs, and the . . . fizz . . . that Phobai had noticed seemed to have given her something like a norbear buzz.

  A double-doorway was coming up on the left, gold-colored numerals blazoned Theo-high on the wall, accompanied by the legend, "Captain's Ballroom."

  They strode on another two dozen steps, to the much more modest door labeled "14-B."

  "Now!" said Win Ton, brandishing the key once more. He looked to Theo, his eyes sparkling. "Now, we can be private! "

  * * *

  "Why did you come back?" Chair Hafley's voice was not as calm as she wished it to be; the tension was in the over-careful enunciation.

  Kamele raised her coffee cup and sipped, savoring the bright, acidic taste. It was very good coffee; the sort to be enjoyed in pleasant solitude or shared with an old and dear friend.

  Unhappily, there was instead of either solitude or a friend, Orkan Hafley.

  Kamele placed her cup gently onto the saucer and met the Chair's hard blue gaze. She could plead ignorance, but there was nothing to gain, really, from pretending not to understand the question.