Logan glared at him for some time, long enough for the man to appear slightly unnerved.
"Blaise's computers can't even add four digit numbers yet without blowing a gasket," Logan forced out between clenched teeth. Then she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Look, I'm here to train as a pilot. Back up-time, twelve-year-olds could get a pilot's license. My mom thinks I should go to college because she still thinks up-time is like down-time, only without fast food and cable television. I am tired of pretending. Kids my age are apprenticing-not flying around in a holding pattern called school."
"Learning is important. ."
"I overheard one of the teachers tell a student that if the Ring of Fire reverses then everyone will need proof they graduated high school. Bah! That's stupid. I'm here, now-and I want to be a pilot. So are you taking on trainees?"
Antonio appeared ready to speak, but Logan felt the need to make certain things clear.
"And if you're worried about me being a girl. . well you can stop worrying." Logan hoped the look on her face made her appear more mature and less angry.
"I learned many things in Grantville. One of them is that being a girl means something different now. With an appropriate chaperone, I think-"
"Chaperones. ." Logan muttered in disgust.
"My crew is mostly men. I have had two women pilot the Pelican-"
"See? So, are you going to let me show you what I can do?"
"I do not give rides. ."
"I'm not asking for a ride. I'm asking for a chance to show you I can fly the thing." Logan closed her eyes and tried to reach a calm, quiet place inside herself. "Please."
Logan took off her backpack and zipped it open. She pulled out her final card. "I've got a barometer. . and I know how to use it."
Antonio's expression shifted from skeptical to delighted. "I see. ."
"I heard the complaints about getting your down-time altimeters properly adjusted, so I brought this. As you can see, it's an up-time device-made in the twentieth century. I calibrated it against the mercury barometer in the physics lab, and I have all the corrections in my notebook."
Logan pressed her advantage. "Look. . suppose you hire me as a pilot trainee. I won't have any reason to carry my barometer with me all the time. So you can keep it for me-in your office, on your desk-when I'm not using it."
The office of the Director of Social Services for the SoTF, Bamberg
(later that day)
Julie Drahuta sat in her office in the building that housed the government of the State of Thuringia-Franconia and tried to keep a serious expression on her face.
"You didn't have to send the police," Logan muttered sullenly.
No matter how often it happened, it always amazed Julie how fast a relatively boring, mundane day could change into something worthy of sitcom, a tragedy, and a comedy, all at the same time.
"Logan," Julie growled. "Don't use that tone with me. And I didn't send the police after you. I merely suggested to a few people I know that I'd really like to know where you are-because I know that when your mother gets here, she'll want to know exactly where you are."
Logan stared at the floor. "So, how much trouble am I in?"
"That depends," Julie said to the frowning figure of aggrieved adolescence who sat before her. "It depends on whether your father lets your mother stew during the train ride all the way from Grantville, or if he tries to cheer her up with amusing stories about the other stupid things you've done and survived."
Logan looked up. "I'm not a kid anymore."
Julie looked into the girl's eyes-no, the young woman's-eyes. She had to remind herself that Logan wasn't eight any more. The Ring of Fire had happened almost five years ago. Kids did, indeed, grow up.
"How long have I known you?"
Logan shrugged. "A while. ."
Julie, through her husband and his family, had known Logan Sebastian since before the girl was born.
"You scared the living daylights out of your parents, Logan. Granted, you made it here without being killed, and-if this Sorrento person is any indication-you reached your goal. Well, part of it."
"My mom wouldn't have let me go. She would've told me I need to stay in school. . But for what? So I could become an aeronautical engineer and design stealth fighters? I don't need to be ten times smarter than everyone else when four or five will do."
Julie smiled. "Spoken like a true teenager."
"There are no teenagers here," Logan stated.
"If your mother's mood is any indication, you might be right."
"She's not gonna kill me. Smack me around a bit, but I can handle that." Logan shrugged. "When she calms down, she'll listen."
"Your mother said it was a good thing you took your lacrosse stick with you." Julie shook her head. "She asked me about child abuse laws in the State of Thuringia-Franconia. I told her that they were. . still being worked on, since what a down-time German thinks is child abuse doesn't quite match what an up-time West Virginian thinks child abuse is. For that matter, there's a great deal of argument about what defines a 'child.'"
"I'm thirteen," Logan asserted. "This isn't West Virginia. Tell my mom I am not a child."
"Logan. ."
"I know what you're gonna say, so don't say it. Aside from all that stuff about baking bread without a bread maker and how to dig a latrine or hoe a line of turnips, I know a lot more than any down-time thirteen-year-old. I could probably take that gas bag up based on nothing more than my flight simulator experience. I might make a few mistakes, but most of the mistakes you make in a lighter-than-air craft involve falling, slowly. I know about thermals and wind shear and prevailing winds and stuff like that. I don't need to waste five more years while the world goes by without me!"
"Are you raising your voice to me, young lady?"
Logan slumped in her chair. "No."
"First of all, you were very rude to Mr. Sorrento."
"I'm sorry about that. I was mad."
"I think you gave a very good lesson on how not to interview for a job. With that in mind, I will tell you that he asked me what I knew about you."
"What did you say?"
"I said that Logan Sebastian usually gets what she sets her mind to. I told him that you do know mathematics. I gave him a brief explanation of what flight simulators were and he seemed impressed. He was also impressed that your father taught math."
"Of course, I can do math. I can also tell the difference between an altocumulus and stratus cloud. See? I could do this. ."
"Logan, there are dead bodies of people older than you between here and Grantville. You worried your parents out of their minds! That was both unfair and unkind, and I have known Logan Sebastian to be many things, but unfair and unkind-especially to her parents-is not among those things. Do I make myself clear?"
"Crystal clear. But I am not some vase that needs to be packed in bubble wrap. They were being unfair to me. They were holding me back."
"Okay, I admit, your mother is a bit overprotective and your father. . after the Ring of Fire especially, has been a bit overindulgent with you."
"Overindulgent?" Logan said with surprise. "Once I found Blaise for him, he barely knew I was there. He thinks the whole thing is funny, like a big joke. Blaise has come very close to saying that, in Paris, there were some who would think I was a prostitute because of what I wore and stuff."
"Blaise is a different story, and leave Paris out of it. Now, your father has a great deal of faith in you. He has faith in you being able to take care of yourself. Running off to become apprenticed to a blimp-"