by Sharon Lee
"Treat to see you, too, First Bunk!"
"Well, I am," she insisted, because it was true, after all, "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 in 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 lightly on her wrist and exerted light pressure until she lowered the lace to her lap.
"Okay. Theo, listen up—I 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 working real-time shifts at daily ops so I can get in enough time to be the official exchange student with Galtech over break. 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 kid 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 advisors up—"
"I have an advisor," 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," 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'Turas did, got that? Take your lace thing there with you and show it. Promise me. 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," he said, shaking his head ruefully. "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 daily ops. My official berth is here, but most times it'll just be the two of you. Theo's in charge, and she reports to me. We got it all set up, and I cleared it with my mentor and the dean of students."
"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 jet. 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. I'm on the Student Review Board. Vanz 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 to 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. Vanz—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.
"I'll make some tea," Theo offered to the closed door, and when it didn't answer she offered the same to Asu, who stood leaning against the wall, her face showing some of the exasperation that Theo felt.
Eleven
Counseling Center
Anlingtin Piloting Academy
"I see your work, Theo Waitley, and I see thought. That is good in a student and in a pilot. The opportunity in this proposition that flight space is unstatic, that I am not clear on."
Theo sat even straighter, looking up at the apparition, as who could not when faced with someone so straight-backed and firm, so immaculately balanced despite the near-aching spareness of her frame, and skin so pale it bordered on a translucent blue. Theo doubted she had ever met a w
oman so old.
This was Veradantha, who had found seven minutes in her schedule. The counselor had pointedly started the timer on her desk when Theo arrived, and now, it counted down relentlessly.
"These are not so novel, these ideas you have here; the Tables tell the tale, pilots of experience are familiar with these facts. Even these demonstrations you have—true, I have not seen it illustrated thus for the school standard cluster!—even these are used by some teachers and programs elsewhere."
Theo fought a grimace, and then a sigh. It hadn't been her idea that this was all original, just that it was important to her—but Chelly'd put his name on the line with sending her here, so she hoped it wasn't all going to go to dust.
The counselor stepped deliberately from one end of her office to the other—thinking, it seemed to Theo. She paused as she sipped from the coffee cup she held in one hand; bit into the pastry she held in the other. The pastry moved rhythmically up and down for a moment, then caught the cadence of the words, as if it were the pastry making the point and not the woman.
"Understand me, you have insight, and this is good, and it is good that your Senior brought this . . . energy you have . . . to my attention."
The pastry indicated Theo's handiwork, still clutched in her lap.
"I took time, Theo Waitley, to review your visit to the mountaintop."
Veradantha spoke very low, and Theo thought she made "Theo Waitley" into one word, to mirror her own single name.
Theo sighed—would she never stop hearing about that?
But if Veradantha had already reviewed that flight, she must be out of time or nearly so already! It was difficult to drag her attention from the woman, to glance at the chronometer, counting down. Except it was not counting down from seven to zero any longer, but blinking its way up from 4:45, in half-second increments.
"Nothing to say, Theo Waitley? You frowned when I mentioned your feat."
The timer flipped over from four minutes to five. Theo looked up into the lined, quizzical face and nodded once, for emphasis.
"Everyone mentions it, ma'am," she said, as calmly as she could. "All I did was what Ground told me was needed. But I survived and it makes some people think I was showing off. I didn't do it to show off. I don't like people to say so. I guess I'm still surprised that so many people think about it at all."
The pastry, much diminished, moved back and forth for several precious seconds. Veradantha's thin lips compressed into what might have been a hard smile.
"Yes, I can see that. I also can see why the Senior thought the landing worth my attention. So, Theo Waitley, do you enjoy your flying in the Slippers? I will admit that I do, though I cannot find time and energy together to take as many flights as I might."
"Yes." Theo nodded, feeling wistful. "I do like the Slippers. But now they've moved me into power group training so I can't get time."
"The universe is like that, Theo Waitley. When you are good at something, often you must give it up for something you are not so good at yet. This is inconvenient, but true."
The hand was now free of the disappeared pastry, but fascinating still, adorned as it was with several glittering rings and wrinkles so fine they looked like down.
"So you like the Slipper, and you like powered flight as well. Would you be satisfied to be an air pilot, do you think?"
The question took a moment to penetrate, and when it did, it took her breath.
On the desk, the chronometer hit seven, blinked once, and began counting down again.
"Air pilot?"
Theo heard the quaver in her voice, and winced. True, she was proud to wear the wings that Win Ton had sent her, once she'd confirmed as a rated soaring pilot. Her marks with powered craft were top-notch, too, but to stop there . . .
"Do not be kittenish on my time, Theo Waitley!"
The woman plunked the cup down on her desk, and swept fully in front of Theo, using her height and posture to loom better than anyone had ever loomed over her, including Father.
"You must understand that worlds need air pilots; in fact, in many places air pilots who fly to orbit and back are what citizens think pilots are. It is worthy work!"
Theo felt heat on her face and tried to keep it out of her voice; her stomach felt as if she'd been in a mountainside downdraft. It didn't help that she was looking up—how could someone so skinny be so formidable?
Taking a deep breath, she replied, slowly: "Yes, air pilots do worthy work. I want to know how to fly—that's useful. It's fun. It's more than fun. But, I'm here to learn to be a spaceship pilot. I don't want the sky to be my roof!"
She took another breath, suddenly struck by a terrible thought. She looked carefully at the counselor's face and asked, quietly, "Is my math that bad?"
"Piffpuff, Theo Waitley, I have not accused you of being incompetent. I asked if you would be satisfied with the title of air pilot."
The flip of hand and the huff were unnerving, but Theo resisted the urge to stand.
Veradantha tugged a bright blue notetaker or comm from her belt, her frail-looking hands flowing over the keys. She glanced at the chronometer, murmuring something that sounded like "what time?"
Theo itched to see what was on that screen but the woman cradled it and walked away from her, peering out the window overlooking the campus airfield and back at the screen, inputting something, glancing outside again. The timer was flashing now and—
"Well, Theo Waitley," Veradanth said. "I am clear that you are not dumb. I am also clear that you are inconvenient. Worse, you are inconvenient in a way that is inconvenient not only to me—I have the habit of being inconvenienced!—but to you, and to the school itself."
Veradantha stood before her, looking down with solemn eyes.
"What we shall do, you and I in our turns, is we shall be convincing when necessary and if that is not sufficient, we shall contrive. I have sent to your regular advisor to ask permission for this, of course, and then we shall see if the threads you string are useful."
The counselor paused, looking away for a moment before peering down at Theo again.
"With luck you have not seen the last of me, as I have some tests you will need to take. I have some forms for you to fill out, a questionnaire or two, they will arrive soon, as soon as permission is given, in your campus mail. These tests will perhaps not be so comfortable for you, but they will clarify things."
Clarity was something she could use, Theo knew.
"Thank you," she began, but her words were waved off.
"I see you are nearly late to your next class, unless you run, which you will do. Thank you for your time."
Theo arrived at the door barely ahead of the crowd off the hourly shuttle, her key sticking first in her pocket and then to her sweaty fingers. She wondered who'd taught them to be so noisy—yah, and they wanted to be pilots!
Asu, at least, wasn't that noisy and she spoke up—
"Hey, Theo, my key's ready! Let the pro through!"
Theo snickered and stepped aside, the rucksack brushing against the side wall with an annoying hiss.
"I bow to progress," Theo agreed, and the door opened for her.
She might have taken the earlier shuttle herself, but she'd taken the longer walk, down by Belgraid, which was a pleasantly situated second and third year dorm she'd not visited before. Not that she'd exactly planned on meeting Kara there, but she'd hoped, and since she was still feeling wrung out from her meeting she'd happily accepted Ristof's polite invitation to a small session, joining Kara and three others for what she thought would be a few minutes.
"Bowli ball, huh?" Asu looked her up and down, scowling. "I'm glad to see you getting more social, but you're going to have to run those leggings through the cleaner a dozen times to get 'em clean, and the shirt twice as many, and that will cost the room a yellow dot, I bet!"
"No! I . . ." but a quick inspection showed her roommate's fears to be not entirely unjustified.
"You can do that indoors, you know? Sign up f
or one of the leagues or at least stop by the pad rooms and play rated. You won't get more than scuffed. But look at you! You look like someone who walked out of a forest. You even have twigs in your hair!"
The game had been going on, Ristof said, since before breakfast, and with trade-ins and trade-outs they were shooting for third-shift lights-out. Of course there wasn't really a lights-out, that was a holdover time for the locals who'd come through residence schools all their lives, but . . .
"The real goal," Kara explained, "is to get us ready for the senior round-the-clock challenge at term end. Belgraid's gonna knock 'em this time!"
"Come, Asu, you know this was just a fun thing . . ."
"Hey, First Bunk, Chelly'd have a fit if he came in here and found that grass all over the place!"
Theo laughed and shook herself the way Coyster did when he came in from the garden. Just like her cat, she shed leaves and grass.
"How'd that meeting go?"
Asu was into the coldbox, pulling a pair of squeezewaters, calling out over her shoulder. Theo, gratefully unshod, pushed the grass and the twig she'd dutifully finger combed onto the floor toward the recycle bin with her sockfeet.
"I'm not sure," she admitted. "I've been waiting for some tests and forms and stuff."
Over the whuff of the floor suction came Asu's "Hunh, guess that's something." She handed over a water tube and scrunched her nose. "Theo, will you get some antisep on that hand? That's blood!"
It was blood, but not much of it, and the game had still been going strong when Theo left. She'd been vaguely trying to get out for some time, but they'd been keeping it five strong all day and it seemed rude to break it just to go back to the room. If she'd had a class to go to, it would have been different. But coming off the interview and a session reciting from memory what anyone could read in the history files, each new charge at the ball had felt as necessary as the last.
"Not dripping. I'll clean it."
"So is something going to happen now? About the math?"
Chaos!
"Asu, will you let up? Didn't I say there were forms and tests and stuff? I don't know about the math yet."
