Sharon Lee - - Prologue

Not nearly as good as the fresh ones served by a luxury cruise liner, the snack still bore a passing resemblance to something Win Ton had smiled over, and that in turn made her smile and absently adjust the wings on her collar.

And there, a second cup of tea, and she was standing with cup in hand wondering if requesting an image from Win Ton would be bad form. Not like Asu's pet athlete's image, but . . . well, maybe, actually . . .

Asu peered into the common area, began mimicking a terminal announcer.

"Attention. Control to Pilot! Blink-blink-blink, attention, Theo!"

Asu's voice was not quite as emotionless as a good warning mode was. She waved her hands impatiently toward the desk.

"Message waiting light here, First Bunk."

Theo sighed. Sometimes it felt like things were changing too fast, and that all the messages were about her doing something more.

She took her cup with her and slid into the seat, "I hear you, I hear you."

The incoming message was from Scout Captain Cho sig'Radia. So was the third. Theo slapped the privacy button, effectively limiting the view of the screen to someone sitting in the spot she sat in.

Behind her, Asu made a sound like a harrumph .

"Must be expecting something else from the bestboy," she hazarded as she headed for the joint room. She paused. "Aren't you?" she insisted, but Theo was already twisting her thoughts to hear Cho's voice behind the words on the screen.

You have not been at all "silly" to pass the news of your recent flight to me; indeed, it is exactly the type of news one could hope for: success in flight! Being some Standards away from a sailplane run I discover the sim a joy; I hope you will not feel overburdened with the information that I, like your academy, have been pleased to share copies with several pilots. Win Ton professes a lack of surprise in your abilities, but promises his own commentary.

Theo relaxed into the seat, nearly losing the sight circle of the screen when she did. Then she sat straight up.

He hadn't been joking, she thought. If Win Ton's packet had gotten to her before Cho's message, he must have sent it immediately, by courier! Someone, some pilot, had been standing by, on her account!

Too, Cho went on, you have followed the forms precisely. I need to know these things not only for the reinforcement of my judgment on your ability, but that we make no errors in dealing with your future.

My role as sponsor requires that I take an active interest in the affairs financial attending your schooling, and in this case, with only a small and not unseemly amount of prompting, your academy and I have reached an accord on the value of your lessons for the school, and for yourself.

Following in a short while will be the contracts I have entered into on your behalf, as well as a document transferring practical control of the finances accruing to you from income derived from various uses, transformations, and recordings of your flight. Pardon that these are dry and filled with complexities well beyond the complexities of piloting equations, but such are Liaden contracts, as you will no doubt be told many times in your career. For your enjoyment, the contract in Liaden is appended to the Trade version. In short form, we have arranged for your earnings to be set against your expenses, with a 25 percent share coming direct to your spending account until all expenses are met. Please follow the instructions about passwords, account controls, and the like exactly. Once accessed the account becomes yours.

Theo leaned toward the screen. Contracts ?

I have passed a copy of the sim to your mother in the hopes the pilot who trained you may see it, and rejoice in your flight.

Oh no! Kamele would not be happy. Surely, Father would—

The letters on the screen blurred slightly.

Father would do as he always did, and use his own judgment. Given that Kamele'd spent a lifetime in ignorance of his piloting, as had Theo, she hoped he'd explain the sim appropriately.

Good lift and safe landing, Pilot.

I remain

Cho sig'Radia, sponsor

Twelve

Number Twelve Leafydale Place

Greensward-by-Efraim

Delgado

The bluebells are doing well this season, Aelliana said, her voice seeming to come from just behind his left shoulder. Theo will be pleased.

A connoisseur of formal gardens might have commented that the bluebells danced the dagger's edge between "doing well" and "overexuberant." Aelliana, however, did not admire strict order in a garden. Nor did he.

And the bluebells were Theo's favorites, after all.

"We must remember to send her a picture," he murmured. From his right came the creak and smack of the garden door opening. Kamele was home from her meeting early.

"Jen Sar!" she called, her footsteps quick on the path.

He turned, smiling as she came into sight, her hair rumpled and her cheeks pink with hurry. She had a small blue envelope from Data Receiving and a folded printout in one hand; the paper fluttered as she walked.

"Don't you look the picture of indolence," she murmured, bending to kiss him on the cheek. "Grading examinations, indeed!"

"Indolence is pictured thus: The honored professor lying on the grass, his venerable head supported by a kindly and compliant friend, and the second bottle uncorked," he returned, smiling up at her. "Here you see the professor taking a rejuvenating turn in the garden before returning to his labors."

"Of course I do," she said, and shook her head in mock irritation. " Compliant ."

"Also kindly ," he pointed out.

"That's very true." She nodded gravely, though her eyes were sparkling. "Silver-tongue."

"It has," he acknowledged mournfully, "been a lifelong affliction."

Kamele laughed, her glance going over his shoulder. "The bluebells are taking over the garden! I've never seen them so boisterous."

"I was just thinking that we must remember to send a picture to Theo."

"Yes, we should; she must miss them." She looked back to him, her face still glowing, but tending toward seriousness. "Speaking of Theo, I have a letter from Cho sig'Radia, who sends a present—to you!"

He raised an eyebrow. "A present? To me?"

"We did agree that you are the pilot who raised Theo , did we not?"

"I seem to recall being cast in that role, yes."

"If you accept the role, you accept the rewards of the role," Kamele told him. She nodded toward the house. "If your rejuvenation is complete, we might go back inside."

"So we might."

"Would you like some coffee?" he asked, as they strolled up the pathway together. "There was a packet of Lake Country beans in today's delivery."

Kamele sighed. "That sounds lovely. There must be a way to get funding for decent coffee in Admin, but I haven't found it yet."

"Raise tuition?" he suggested, as the door opened.

"Don't think I haven't considered it," she said darkly, stepping into the kitchen ahead of him. She put the letter and the packet on the kitchen table and glanced at the coffeemaker.

"I'll do that," he said, "if you would like to change into house clothes."

Kamele grinned at him. "Thank you, Jen Sar. And by all means, do read Captain sig'Radia's letter while I'm gone. Just promise that you won't open the package until I'm back."

"That seems a fair compromise," he said placidly, moving toward the pantry. Kamele laughed; a moment later, he heard her running upstairs.

He measured the beans into the hopper, set the texture, poured water into the reservoir and touched the control. The grinder whirred quietly. He went to the table, plucked up the sheet of printout and carried it to the window, hitching a hip onto the ledge as he unfolded the paper.