Sharon Lee - - Prologue

Theo stared, feeling slow and slightly stupid. "Hugglelans Galactica?" she repeated.

"In fact," Aito said briskly. "Did you think that this yard and the Howsenda was all there was? We span worlds, Theo Waitley. And, spanning worlds, we therefore have need of pilots."

"I thought you were a—service for pilots," Theo said. "The yard, the restaurant, the repair bays . . ."

"All of which we would need to maintain for our own ships! Why not extend the service and earn a fee to offset the cost of doing business?"

He stood. "We'll talk more of this after you've rested. I'm going to put you in the ready room."

Feeling not much less confused, Theo rose and followed him down the short hall to the rear.

"What about the pilot on call?" she asked, as Aito opened the door onto a room just big enough to hold a cot.

"The pilot on call this evening prefers to sleep other than in the ready room. As he's never missed a call and his partner is understanding of these things, Father accepts the arrangement." He pointed to the right. "Sanitary facilities at the end of the hall. You'll sleep safe tonight, Theo," he said, turning to look earnestly into her eyes. "Father is grateful for your service. After you've waked and broken your fast, ask whoever is out front to call me."

"Why?" Theo asked.

Aito smiled. "So that I can get you started on that application for full-time work you wanted." He inclined his head—half bow and half nod.

"Good night, sleep well."

"Good night, Aito," she answered, and stood in the doorway until he reached the top of the short hall, and the door closed behind him.

Please insert Howsenda Hugglelans employee card in the red slot , the instructions ran across the screen in rapid yellow letters. Theo complied.

Please insert Guild or other professional identification in the blue slot .

She slid the Guild card into the blue slot, feeling a pang as the machine accepted it. You'll get it back , she told herself sternly. They just need to download your data.

Please wait , the screen instructed her, the letters flowing into the Howsenda Hugglelans logo. The logo expanded, twinkling, against a black background, morphing into a blanket of stars spreading prettily, if not very realistically, into infinity.

Theo closed her eyes and counted to twenty-four. When she opened them, the graphic had faded, replaced by dignified blue-limned letters.

Welcome, Theo Waitley, Pilot Second Class. Your Guild license is active and cross-matches with your Howsenda Hugglelans employee identification. Following is the general piloting application for Hugglelans Galactica. Data gathered by this application resides, encrypted, in the Howsenda Hugglelans corporate database. Job applicants have the right to refuse three offered jobs before they are removed from the active database. Ready to proceed? Yes/No.

Theo thumbed Yes .

The questions were interesting, not all of them having to do with piloting, but a good number asking about her hobbies, whether she liked to be in a crowd or by herself, if she had any pets, if she'd taken self-defense. The "yes" on that question opened up a cluster of sub-questions: When? Which type? Was she proficient? Had she taught?

After that, there were more general questions, then the application program wanted to know if there were any planets she preferred not to travel to, if she had any outstanding local "rule violations," if so, what and where.

Finally, the screen flickered and one last question rose to its surface:

Are you qualified to carry a weapon?

Theo punched "yes" a little harder than was strictly necessary, and waited for a series of questions about her gun, her training with it, and her years of ownership.

Instead, the application program thanked her for her input and promised that a representative of Hugglelans Galactica would be contacting her with a job offer very soon.

It was, in fact, three days before she was contacted by a representative of Hugglelans Galactica, and that by proxy, in the person of Aito himself, who shook her awake on her cot in the on-call room, where she'd spent her time sleeping and working nav problems with her needles.

"Theo! Your ship is here!"

"What!" She was awake all at once, on her feet and stamping into her boots, her hands flew down her body, touching pockets, doing inventory. She grabbed her sweater off the hook and hauled it on as she followed Aito up the hall.

"I thought I got three refusals!" she said, as they came into the office.

He gave her a peculiar look over his shoulder. "Do you want to leave this planet?" he asked.

"Yes," she admitted.

"Do you," he asked, slotting a data card, glancing at the readout and nodding, "want to work as a pilot?"

"Yes!"

"Do you want to put your friends in peril?"

"What? No!"

"Good. Then you'll take this—" He flipped the card to her; she snatched it out of the air and stood holding it, watching him.

"That's your accumulated pay for unused vacation time, shift bonuses, and an override for a wayroom and a meal at any Hugglelans facility."

"Vacation time!" she exclaimed. "Bonuses? What—"

"Father," Aito interrupted, "is grateful for your service. I believe he said so previously." He tossed her another card, which she caught like the first.

"I am also grateful," he said quietly. "Listen, now, Theo. Cameron 's on Number Two Hot, lifting in five minutes. The pilots are willing to have you sit Jump seat 'til Malta, where you'll disembark and report to the yard office. They'll have your papers, updated ID, all of it. You'll be 'prenticing to Pilot Rig Tranza—one of Hugglelans' long-time employees. You'll learn a lot from him."

"But, wait!" Theo cried. "What kind of ship? What kind of space? What—"

The board rang, and a man's voice rang out cheerily. "Our packet ready there, boss? We're coming up on a mark."

"Heading out now!" Aito said. He jerked his head toward the door.

Theo took a breath, held back the words in favor of a nod and a flashed good lift! and ran for the hotpad.

Thirty-Two

Number Twelve Leafydale Place

Greensward-by-Efraim

Delgado

It had long become the custom to share in the news from Theo when it arrived, and to make it as festive an occasion as possible. The joint revelation of their offspring's latest adventures being such a habit, not even this evening's committee meeting in support of Chair Ella ben Suzan's important work reconfirming the department's accreditation would do more than put it off, despite Jen Sar's protestation that a letter marked for Kamele Waitley should be enjoyed by Kamele Waitley as soon as possible.

Kamele's not unexpected insistence meant that Jen Sar worked late in the fall garden, regretting his favorite jacket's location in a spaceship storage locker where it protected him from no wind at all. After, he showered, prepared in advance what he could of a simple repast, and graded student papers, enjoying the company of several cats and the scan of near-orbit action in space until his still-keen ears discerned Kamele's steps on the walk.

She's very tired . Aelliana stirred, concern tinging her thought.

Indeed, he answered, I'm glad she's home, and with something to be pleased about!

Kamele's face lit when she saw Jen Sar, but the first thing she said was, "I'm sorry."

He raised quizzical eyebrows. "Sorry?"

She stowed several bags through the simple expedient of dropping them in front of the chair Coyster occupied, and then accepted Jen Sar's hug with warmth.

"Sorry I had yet another meeting, sorry the meeting went long again, sorry Ella's been quite so much in the midst of this, sorry Theo's letter arrived after you were gone for the day."