Sharon Lee - - Prologue

Father's way of making choices was very advertent; and now she had to be advertent, too. If she was making people here in the main quad uncomfortable because she was more pilot than student—that seemed to be Asu's complaint, that Theo was doing too much and not being social enough—then she'd move to someplace where pilot and self-directed was more common—she'd see if there was room at DCCT. Last year Kara had mentioned the possibility, but she'd stuck with Asu, since they had come to the academy at the same time and they had managed to reach a certain comfort level. And there, did Asu really understand how much Theo'd put up with along the way? Did she?

Choice. Pilot's choice even. Stay your course , her hands counseled. Stay your course.

She danced a few moves, thought about lace, thought about Asu and her always going on about her boyfriends and her constant questions about Theo's weekends and about Win Ton. Thinking about Win Ton, what message could she send to him about this? Was it even important? He had work, work that was important to him, and needn't be concerned with the ways of students . . .

She touched Win Ton's gift, as if she would ask its advice. It felt good in her hand, and she was soothed. No, she decided. Win Ton didn't—couldn't—share with her the daily burdens of ship life and crew mates. There was no reason to write to him of this.

Advertency suggested she finish at least some of the studying in queue. There'd be time, later, to work out the details of next year's life.

She checked her pockets, which she did once or twice a day. And now, there it was, a gun. And three knives—although one would about slice maize buttons—and several disinfectant tubes and a small lace project wrapped in fine cloth and keys, and her key with pilot times on it, and the backup key, certified this morning as she and yos'Senchul passed through Ops, so it was up-to-date, and the suddenly comforting slickness of the Guild card reminding her that someone nearby did understand what she was doing, even if it was a norbear with near transparent fur, and then, the comm was in her hand, with Kara's account at the top of the list. A wave, and the comm was on; a click and it was answered.

"Hello," came Kara's voice, sounding young and a little silly, "you've reached my private backup message router at the ven'Arith residence. Your message is bouncing around the planet while it tries to find me. Please be patient because I'm probably bouncing around the planet, too."

Backup message router at her house? She'd never gotten that message before. Theo smiled. Maybe Kara was too busy with someone to answer the comm and didn't want to make promises. Not everyone had to be arguing this evening, after all.

Theo could bring no urgency to the studying she'd been trying to do. The energy she'd built up after talking with Asu was still there, still needing an outlet, and unrolling the lace had done nothing for her. She kept seeing star patterns, which reminded her that she needed to get Anlingdin Academy behind her, which meant getting organized for next year, which meant having an idea of where she was going be sleeping, which meant studying and having a plan which meant calming herself so she could . . .

She shook herself, realizing that she knew this pattern. In his best Jen-Sar-the-Professor mode, Father had pronounced this kind of thinking circular logic . His prescription for disrupting such damaging circularity was play or exercise. Theo didn't feel much like playing right now, which was why she was out on the campus in the dark, walking, walking, walking.

The academy at night was nothing new to her; she liked to be out alone, and the paths were old friends. She was used to hearing sounds from the airfield, but tonight there wasn't much going on there. Sometimes she could hear things happening at the stadium, but there wasn't much down that way tonight, either. There were people out: groups, couples, in the usual pathways, some more willing than others to be seen.

She had done the first of her usual routes, avoiding DCCT at first and skirting the field: she'd seen yos'Senchul's craft, and the shuttle being readied, and the usual evening maintenance crews on the tarmac. There were a few more people near the field; and there, a ten- or twelve-passenger airjet flowed overhead, banking into the landing pattern . . . out beyond her view momentarily and . . . it was funny the way she could visualize what the pilot had to be doing, how she must be here looking to the west and the beacon, here checking for visual hazards on the runway, here dropping the gear . . .

The breeze was stronger than she'd expected, or the pilot very casual by the way the ship crabbed in, but then, it was down and running to the end pads.

She didn't want company, wondered if there'd been some great sport victory for the school earlier in the day, because that was the usual cause for group celebrations, but there, she didn't pay a lot of attention to such social things.

"Aliens," someone on the path ahead of her was saying. "I mean, in a lot of ways they're more alien than Clutch turtles or norbears or anything nixty like that, because, I mean, because they look like us . Like—"

"Parasites. That's the word you want. Like energy thieves. They come in here and make it hard for us natives to get through school, they make the grading harder, they . . ."

Theo made a face. Must be some more of the new kids. The new kids always complained about how hard school was. She took a light left, veering onto one of the lesser paths, toward DCCT. She walked quietly now, listening, feeling like there was movement going on around her, and with the night so busy there might well be a chance couple or two leaning against trees or . . .

More people, talking low, somewhere ahead of her on the path.

"We've got be sure we let them know that this isn't just us, though. We all heard the news clips, we saw the charts, and there's been things going on for a while—this isn't, you know, personal , but we've—"

"Don't worry about. It's on the school channels, it's on the local channels. So we know something will be announced for first shift . . ."

Channels. Announcement. Now what? She hadn't caught up with the regular news, and wondered if she'd missed something urgent. She continued slowly on the path, knowing there was a cul-de-sac a little ahead. There, she could see a group in the dimness, moving in a bunch onto the path she was following.

"Anyway, they sent us the chant, so we can start it off right. And once we do, we're supposed to make noise until they come out and see the signs. We're already calling all their comms and keeping them busy."

Theo felt her energy level rise, and she could see someone in the group ahead of her waving something experimentally. They were going somewhere to make trouble, and the only thing out this way was DCCT.

The thing that was being waved suddenly burst into the brilliant actinic flare of an emergency wand. Patently something only to be used in time of dire distress, it cast tremendous shadows and Theo squinted against it, trying to see DCCT's building as something other than a mysterious blob hidden by great trees.

"Not yet!" someone yelled, too late, as other flares took fire and illuminated words glowed in the air: Natives First! Solve Now!

There was a rush from behind her, and a curse and someone saying, "They started without us!" and some cheers, and a general buzz of excitement and energy filled the land, and more of the lights flared. Theo stepped toward the now-empty side path and then a face she almost recognized ran by, paused, and yelled, "Watch out, it's Waitley!"

The buzz turned toward her then: ten, maybe a dozen, and the accusatory, " She's one of them! "