Ted Jones was not portly, just 'short for his size.' Quite a few years older than Morris, Jones loved discussing interesting jobs he'd had. He reminded Morris a great deal of Harkin; Jones always had a story, usually humorous and always with himself as the unfortunate butt of the joke.
Teek was a highly detail-conscious person. Whip-thin but in no way frail she possessed long fingers ideal for delicate electronic and photonic work.
After lunch they adjourned to Morris' lab. Per his instructions no one prepped it; he and the other two set about that task. As they worked Morris reinforced the principals he gave during his lecture and worked to lay the groundwork for the ones he'd cover soon.
***
With class and prep finished for the day Morris returned to Ballard Hall, happily tired. He found Delroy there but none of the others. She didn't acknowledge his entrance so he walked to his rooms, fetched his Fact Theory spools and settled in the common room to read them.
"That was fun," said Lace, entering with Harkin. Then, on seeing Morris and Delroy, "You two. Heaven's flames."
Lace spoke with amusement but Morris saw Delroy stiffen. Morris marked his place and powered down the 'pad. Lace fetched tea and chog for herself and Harkin and plopped down on an amorphous chair.
"Now," said Lace, "Dinner plans. Dr. Rackwell doesn't have anything for this evening so we're on our own." Here she winked at Morris. "No speeches either."
Morris grinned back.
"Any preferences," she asked, "Good. When I dismissed class today Greg told me about a restaurant not far from here. Polov, Morris. You have him too."
Morris nodded.
"He's got a hades of a load," said Harkin, "He's the only grad with all five of us and a full regular schedule."
"He can do it, though," said Lace, nodding, "He's double-majoring in paleoarchaeology and business management and administration. I have a suspicion he wants to be a field scientist."
Harkin agreed and the two of them began discussing their common students. Of Morris' three Eisley was taking Lace's class and Garrett Harkin's. As Lace talked Morris discovered she already knew her students thoroughly and personally, even on a first-name basis. He felt a quick spurt of amusement at this.
Midway through their discussion Jackson entered, humming tunelessly.
"For truth," said the big man, "I could learn to like this. Imagine, if you will, being paid to tell stories and have fun. I, of course, don't need to imagine it."
Lace shook her head. "I hope you at least covered some subject matter."
"Six-sigmas on the beam, lovely lady, but you absolutely cannot discuss Survey without examples and those I have in plenty."
"As if," said Lace, then she recounted her suggestion for dinner. Jackson agreed immediately. "Then it's decided." She looked at Delroy. "Crystal?"
"No."
That pained Lace but she covered it quickly. "Slib. I'll call Greg."
***
The restaurant, aptly named The Study Guide, sat just over a block from the campus. It catered to the student population with a menu neither fancy nor expensive, all-day and all-night hours, good lighting and comfortable seats. Morris saw several groups of students studying and relaxing. The food was good and the menu boasted an impressive list of specialty chog and tea.
"I wish I owned the place," said Polov, "They make their year during finals and everything else is pure profit."
Eisley, seated beside Polov, voiced her assent.
"Spoken like a true businessman," said Jackson.
Morris placed Polov not many years younger than himself. He was average-sized and would fade into any crowd. Until he spoke. He possessed a sharp mind and, to the best of Morris' observation, a perfect memory. He was well-versed in both paleontology and archeology with emphasis on late Imperium and the Collapse. During the conversation he confirmed Lace's suspicion.
"Of a sort," said Polov, referring to field science, "Both of my parents worked for an outfitting company. That's where they met, for truth, and they took half a dozen expeditions offplanet before they retired to office work." Polov warmed to this. "I went along on three of them. There's a serious problem with civilian survey and exploration, you see.
"The best scientists can't organize an expedition worth feces and the best organizers just aren't scientists. That's one thing I can do. I'm not the most brilliant scientist in Halcyon but I don't have to be. If I'm scientist enough so the others will listen, that's what matters. Once I put together one successful mission I'll be valuable enough for invitations to others. That's what I really want."
Morris heard the passion in Polov's voice; he knew the man would succeed.
"You'll get there," said Lace, "With that kind of drive it's six-sigma certain."
"Oh," said Polov, "I do tend to get excited over it."
"All truth and no blather there," said Eisley.
"Take plenty of communication classes," said Morris, "While you're about it you should learn to give speeches, too. Both prepared and impromptu."
"Yes sir," said Polov, "I have a fine example to follow."
To that Morris had no answer.
***
Morris woke early the next day and realized he had nothing to do. After the first day the League team would hold classes on an alternating-day morning-afternoon schedule. Jones and Teek had their regular jobs and that left Morris with nothing to do and ample time to do it. A check of their schedule showed Harkin in class which meant Morris should have company.
Lace answered Morris' question before he could ask. Her door opened and she emerged, yawning, fresh from a shower.
"Morning," she mumbled, "is the antithesis of civilization."
She drew a cup of chog, double-strength, sipped it past the point of easy spill and sat carefully at the table.
"And you're a morning person," she said disdainfully, "Disgusting."
"Someone has to be," he grinned.
Lace scowled hard at him but couldn't hold it long. The expression simply didn't fit her.
"You need some vices, hon," she said, "It's not natural to be alert and awake at this hour."
Jackson chose that moment to make his entrance, spry and cheerfully humming with nothing close to a tune.
"Good morning my fine friends," boomed Jackson, "Isn't it a loverly day indeed?"
Lace rolled her eyes and muttered something Morris and Jackson both pretended not to hear. After chog the three of them decided to breakfast at the closest cafeteria.
***
"Hi! Good morning."
Morris looked up to see Patricia Kelley flanked by four others he didn't know.
"It's morning," grinned Lace, "Join us?"
"Sure. Thanks."
The other students were Terri, Robert, Allan and Joseph with, apparently, no last names. All of them had either a major or minor in theater and Kelley spoke at length about their current project.
"Come to rehearsal," said Kelley, "It's always a posh and we'd love to have you there."
Morris would have refused but Lace accepted for all of them.
"I will need to leave for class this afternoon," said Lace.
"Negative problem there," said Kelley, "People are always inning and outing. The only time we have for serious rehearsal is in the evenings and that doesn't always work. We all just come when we can and Selly, that's our director, works around it."
***
Rehearsal, discovered Morris, included more than just the cast and crew. Since even the theater majors had other classes they all came and left as needed. The director, Emeritus Doctor Raphael Mouzon 'call me Selly' Seldon adapted what he had to who he had and filled in empty spots with whomever he could grab, induce or cajole.
"Ex-cel-lent! Plus-plus! Fresh faces. How wonderful," exclaimed Seldon, "Class. CLASS!!"
Silence. Almost.
"We are singularly honored by the presence of three of our League guests." Then to Morris, Jackson and Lace, "Come come come! Pick a spot and we'll work you in."
Then what Seldon said sank in and before he could object Morris found himself whisked onto the stage. Seldon thrust a datapad into Morris' hand.
"Your part is highlighted," he said. Then, when he saw Morris examining the lighting and audio gear, "Not to fear, Tech. You can relax here, we shall endeavor to keep our machines working!"
Lace almost choked from stifling her laughter, fortunately Seldon didn't notice.
After an anxious half-hour Morris relaxed and started enjoying himself. These students differed little from the ones at the Academy and as often as not Seldon had their attention elsewhere. Morris' part changed several times as did many of the others and he even had a chance to work the sound system. Morris didn't realize he stayed the entire morning until Seldon broke for lunch.
Before Morris could even think of leaving Kelley and two others took possession of him. Lace and Jackson had already left and Morris had no idea where to find them. Lace had class but that left Jackson still at large.
"They're probably at Ryan commons," said Kelley, "That's the best place for lunch."
The two with her, Scott, a botany major and economics major Edward agreed.
"They say the leftovers and scrapings there are next week's main course in Bayner Hall."
Scott chuckled and Edward muttered something about 'Flush twice' but Morris missed most of that.
They found both Harkin and Jackson, seated with some of their students, working on a meal. Harkin discussed weather patterns and how they affected survey techniques with Jackson describing how survey teams worked around weather.
After lunch Morris considered returning to rehearsal but something occurred to him that morning. A quick trip to Rackwell's office secured Morris access to the University's technical course curricula. He settled at the library and began reviewing it. With an eye to how Halcyon techs presented their material Morris could personalize his even more.
Morris stomach growled loudly. A girl sitting two tables over looked up and he decided to stop for dinner. After checking a map he took a shortcut through a classroom building on his way back to his quarters. As he passed one of the rooms he heard a familiar voice. Quietly so as not to disturb the group he moved to observe it.
Crystal Delroy sat with a handful of her students. Morris recognized Polov and Eisley but none of the others. Especially he didn't recognize Delroy.
They discussed abstract criterion quantification, which Morris struggled to understand. To him it seemed arbitrary and subjective but not so Delroy. She spoke with none of her usual acid harshness and with animation and passion Morris didn't know she possessed. Gone were her aloofness and distance and present in their place were dedication to and a love of her subject. The talk so absorbed Morris that he didn't realize they had finished.
Several students gathered around Delroy but the others simply left. Polov and Eisley spotted Morris and started toward him before he could make good his own departure. Eisley had a question about their assignment and Polov needed clarification of the answer. By that time Delroy finished and started homeward. Feeling somewhat foolish Morris walked fast to catch up with her.
"Good afternoon, Specialist," he said.
Nothing. Once she seemed ready to say something but decided against it. Lace, Harkin and Jackson waited in the common room so Delroy merely walked wordlessly to her rooms and left Morris to the others.
After dinner the four of them attended student music recitals. Even though some of the works didn't excite Morris he appreciated the others and he uniformly enjoyed the dedication and work the students put into their performances.
Back in his rooms, showered and ready for bed, Morris noticed his terminal flashing. He tapped the release key and the message opened. It contained two words: 'Thank you.' Unsigned.
***
The next day Morris' students showed him they took his assignment seriously. Morris wasted no time moving to full-swing. Though some of them struggled a bit they all kept up and worked very hard.
That set the pace for the next few weeks. Morris graduated them from the basics into more solid theory, which they devoured eagerly and always returned hungry. He spent his off days either rehearsing with Seldon and company, studying or working on Delroy's spools.
At Rackwell's suggestion Morris began a seminar on Imperium technology and its links to modern society. Attendance was very high but these were trained professionals. At first Morris was nervous but what they lacked he provided: an external point of view. Before long he relaxed and, for truth, learned as much as he taught.
Morris missed Kelven and the others on Dracos. When he finally grew accustomed to his schedule that comfort reminded him sharply just how far from home he was. He also missed Lydia and when that feeling grew too strong he went to the starport and watched the ships take off and land.
On several occasions one or more of the League team was called away to meet some personage or a group of them. Fortunately these occasions were rare - the League team was there to teach and not to politic - and Morris bore them with good grace.
During one such event Morris met the Tech stationed at the League embassy on Helene. Olliver Weston worked hard to attain Senior Tech certification and there he stopped. As he told Morris he was content to fill the niche he did. He volunteered for embassy duty on Halcyon and his subsequent marriage to a local lady exempted him from normal rotation; he expected to never leave Helene and that bothered him not at all. After they met he had Morris and the others over for dinner with his family, a night everyone enjoyed that ended with standing invitations to come again.
All in all Morris enjoyed his time on Helene.
Chapter 6. Patterns
Morris stared at the two forms before him. The semester had just passed the halfway mark and Morris' class had finally worked into rigorous theory and application.
"These are drop slips," said Morris, feeling disappointed and almost betrayed.
Garrett and Eisley stood uncomfortably in front of his desk.
Morris examined them closely. Eisley was a red-haired Amazon with a fiery spirit and a solid determination to learn. Garrett, dark-tanned and quiet, was a more subdued counterpoint to her. Both of them were doing well and Morris felt they would make it. Though Garrett spoke little when he did he obviously knew his material. Eisley knew forces, whether physical, chemical, electronic or optical, and moved easily from application to the theory behind it.
"We're just not getting it, sir," said Eisley, uncomfortable but cutting directly to the point, "I'm a graduate student in Matter and Force and I've spent seven years studying energy, matter, force, chemistry and material interaction. I build and repair computers on weekends and during the summer I help my folks repair hovers and wheelies and I'm not getting this."
"Tina's right, Dr. Taylor," said Garret, as uncomfortable dropping the title as Morris was him using it, "You've been hinting at some sort of unification between everything we've been studying and we're just not understanding what it is."
That hurt. Morris encouraged questions and all of his students readily asked them. He knew they were both bright enough and determined enough to succeed, but how to convince them? He'd just taken out his stylus to sign the sheets when inspiration hit. He gathered the papers, neatened them and put them aside.
"We're having class tomorrow," said Morris, "Will you give me another week? I'll sign your slips if you still want to drop then."
Eisley and Garrett swapped glances then looked back at Morris.
"Fair enough, sir," she said, "but I don't know what you can do in a week that you haven't already."
"You'll find out tomorrow."
***
Plan firmly in mind, Morris called Rackwell and canceled his seminar. He hated doing that but this problem took priority. Garrett and Eisley wouldn't wait long. As he walked Morris formulated the basics of a plan. It wouldn't be easy and harder still to gain the assistance he needed.
As usual Delroy sat in her room at the holocad. She seldom spoke to th
e others and usually isolated herself in her room. Fortunately for Morris this made her predictable. When he knocked and entered she looked up with considerable irritation but he didn't give her the chance to vent it.
"I have a problem, Specialist." He flipped his 'pad to the first entry. "What do our disciplines have in common?"
She opened her mouth to answer sarcastically but closed it when she looked at the 'pad.
"Sit down," she said, "This may take some time."
***
Morris walked into class with a light step.
"Good morning, class."
He took a quick read of the students. Eisley and Garrett looked skeptical. Polov intuited something amiss and Teek and Jones picked up on it.
"We're not going to study vectored flow today," said Morris, "Instead we're making a field trip. I've cleared it with your other instructors and supervisors. We'll be back sometime this afternoon."
With that Morris directed them to the hover he had waiting. A startled Rackwell made the arrangements quickly. That he could on short notice drove home to Morris just how much pull their project had. The students talked excitedly among themselves as the hover headed downtown. When asked Rackwell knew instantly where Morris should go and even whom to call for the other arrangements.
Still giving no explanations Morris took his group to a spacious third-floor balcony overlooking one of Helene's largest and busiest shopping plazas. It had an excellent view of the crowds and stores below: perfect! Morris brought comfortable chairs and holocasters. While the students set up the former Morris carefully tended the latter.
"It has come to my attention," said Morris, "that some of you are having trouble unifying what I've been teaching. This more than anything is the key to understanding League technology."
Morris waited until he had their full attention.
"What do all branches of technology have in common? What do technology and science, technology and psychology, technology and economics and even technology and music have in common?"
Silence. Polov had the glimmer of an idea but didn't speak it.
"Patterns," said Morris, "Everything, and I mean everything, has a pattern. You knew the answer, Mister Polov. Ms. Eisley, you had a good guess.
"Humans are rational creatures. We're not nearly so random as we'd like to believe. The one thing that unifies everything is that there is a pattern. Where there is a pattern there is a metric for predictability. Whether it's an optical circuit strip or a post-Collapse three-part opera there is always a pattern."
A Pattern of Details Page 9
