Sharon Lee - - Prologue

Truffant cleared the lab stuff away cheerfully, and then insisted:

"Really, I'd like you to show me that other solution you were working on. I've banned an abacus, an antique slide-stick, three kinds of subvocal calculators, and a pet norbear from class in the past. Now I wonder if I have to ban needles and string."

Six

Lunch Break

Anlingdin Piloting Academy

"You walk everywhere, don't you?"

"Did the soldiers threaten you?"

"Were you scared?"

"How did you get the Slipper to do that?"

"Are you sleeping with anyone?"

The girl who asked that got poked in the ribs by the young man next to her. That sparked some laughter and ribaldry which gave Theo a chance to catch her breath and take a sip without looking like she wasn't paying attention.

If any of the questions surprised her more than any others she couldn't say; the good news was that a couple of the crowd were kind enough to use recognizable hand-talk, and that gave her something to concentrate on, besides trying to eat.

They'd walked her in to the lunch room like she was leader of the pack, but partly it might have been to make sure no one else joined them.

All of them were from the math lab; all had been at the school longer than she had and they all wanted to be close to her, where before they barely acknowledged her.

She managed to answer some questions.

"I wasn't scared," she said after another sip of whatever soft drink someone brought her, "because I was just too busy." Here she interjected with her hands, pointing toward the could-be instrument panel and signing updown, north, wind speed, drift, drift, updown, clock .

"The order came and I had to find a way to get the ship out of the air, and the mountain was nearest . . .

"Afterwards, then I was shaky and wanted to dance!"

For some reason that prompted laughter, and she grabbed a bite as people quieted and then looked as the youngster—she recognized him as one of the Erkes local students—blurted into the silence, "You always walk so fast and . . ."

She agreed, nodding in his direction. "I do. I like to walk, but there's not really enough time to just take a hike, and I'm usually a little late . . ."

Again, some laughter and smiles, and the pair staring back and forth at each other with furtive hand-talk that looked like Later alone ask and an assent and . . .

"But the Slipper was great," she said, getting back to another question, "except I'd never landed in that kind of a head wind before. I really had to trick her down with a sideslip . . ."

Here Theo demonstrated with a hand motion and a swing of the shoulders and then a dual slide of hands toward the tabletop. Then she laughed, doubling the attention on her.

"The only time I worried about the soldiers is when I made them hold the Slipper and one didn't understand so good about paying attention. He let the starboard wing loose before I got the tiedowns set and it almost clipped his nose."

"You made the soldiers help?"

Theo snickered.

"Did I have a choice? You think I'm going to let a school Slipper fall off a mountain if I can help it? They insisted I was going with them, and right away, but the rotor pilot, he told them I was right, the ship needed to be tied down else it might run into his machine at liftoff. So yes, the soldiers helped."

The other hand-talkers, not the hormone addicts, were more readable: saw flight well done came her way and bowli ball after?

That sounded good, but she really wasn't going to have time. Not today, she managed and, thank you.

Normally lunch was a chance for Theo to think over math or math lab, and even to eat. Today she was having a hard time fitting the food in around fielding questions and watching the hands for words.

The quarter chime sounded, barely discernible above the conversation buzz at table; in moments the group—all carefully nodding, saying, or signing their good-bye to Theo—was off in disparate directions.

Theo heard or felt the presence of someone behind her, and turned to see—

Asu.

Her roomie sighed gently, and without asking pulled out a chair and sat heavily.

"It won't last, you know." she said, waving at the empty chairs. "Once people figure out that you don't want to be friends, don't need to be friends, and can't do anything for them, they'll look for some other fast line."

Theo raised empty hands and shrugged. "I don't know why . . ."

Asu made a sound remarkably similar to one of Lesset's triumphant I-knew-it noises.

"Have you seen the news, Theo? Do you know how many comm calls I've denied this morning? I mean—you survived!"

Theo looked to the ceiling before hoisting the last of her drink and guzzling it. She was going to need to start walking soon . . .

"I don't much follow the news, Asu. Not politics, not finance, not even sports."

That last was a bit of a cut, and she was exaggerating, anyway.

Asu wrinkled her nose.

"Look, what's going on is the local newsies—and I mean planetary, not continental!—they've got these great long distance vids, even a satellite shot or two, of you throwing the Slipper around like it's an aerobat while the military chases public menace number one in your direction. Two expert commentators following the chase say there's no possible place for you to land and right there you calmly slot the thing in with a half wing-span to spare, just in time for the public menace to get obliterated, kabloom!"

Asu's sound effects and hand motions brought stares; Theo blushed and looked away. When she looked back, Asu's full attention was on her face.

"Look," Theo insisted, "all I did was land the Slipper. That's all . They told me they wanted the sky empty. That's what I did. This other stuff—" Theo found herself looking at the ceiling and its suspended model aircraft, moons, and spacecraft. "This other stuff isn't really about me."

Asu sighed slightly.

"I know—and I'm glad you know. It isn't your fault that Chelly's old bestguy and mentor was idiot enough to get shot down."

Theo looked up, eyes wide, and shook her head.

But Asu was nodding, with a certain amount of grimness.

"Chelly told me this morning. They were bestboys till Hap left and then didn't ever even answer a bit of comm . . . left him flat."

Theo grimaced. Just what they needed in close quarters, a senior with a problem love life come back to haunt him.

Asu sighed. She looked tired for a moment, then shook herself into businesslike.

"So," she said briskly. "I caught news reports for you; they're filed in your shared inbox, if you want them."

"Thanks," Theo said, not certain if she did want them. Still, it had been nice of Asu.

"You're welcome," Asu said, rising, with a shapeless flap of her hand. "I'll see you later, Theo. I've got to get to class."

Theo had class, too, and ran most of the way.

Commerce and Transport 111 was usually a dry, quiz-heavy class. Long-retired full-Terran cargo master Therny Chibs was the professor. Theo saw his lanky form just ahead and sped up to get to the door of the classroom before he did, squeezing by as he turned to address a question from a student who stood outside waiting.

Theo found classmates making room for her as she hurried to the back of the lecture room, still a bit unsettled by how many of the people acted like they knew who she was. Not likely, given the size of the class.

She'd already memorized and been tested on thirteen common forms for the class, and expected a quiz today on two more. Professor Chibs had never met a form he didn't like, nor a reporting protocol he didn't admire. If she was lucky it would be two more and not three, because she hadn't quite caught up with—