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!"
Theo started moving, toward DCCT, the dance informing her steps and energy firming her plans.
Two burly students wearing air masks and strike fatigues blocked her path, yelling, "Outsider, outsider, outsider!"
She tried to to duck around them but the crowd behind was thick. The two burly guys lunged; she caught scent of vya as she dodged again. Then there were fists and feet and she responded as best she could.
"There were too many."
Theo was battered, bruised, and tired; she ached everywhere. Her eyes were closed and the touch of hands near her lashes made her eyelids flutter.
"Yes, there were," said a soft and familiar voice. "Far too many. In fact, they got in their own way. Thank you for not killing anyone."
"I was just out for a walk. I—"
"Yes, I know. I was medico for the interrogation. You were quite clear."
"I didn't really hurt anyone, then? I can't see how I could have . . ."
"You did. You hurt several people quite professionally. I salute you."
Theo closed her eyes, realized she'd actually had them open a moment, and recognized that she was talking to the med tech. Healer el'Kemin.
"This keeps happening," she said.
"Yes. It seems that it does."
She came back to that other point, the professional thing he'd mentioned.
"Hurt them bad?"
"You are among the most proficient undergraduates I have had the honor to meet here. Had they come at you in less than waves of six or eight I suspect you could have stood your ground. The security cams will tell part of the story, I'm sure. Certainly they will bear out the fact that you did not charge the crowd to start the riot."
"I can't tell. I'm not sure I remember entirely . . ."
"You will; if you are permitted to see me in the next seven days—and if you have comfort issues about sleeping, do you see me. For the moment the drugs they gave you for questioning have addled you a bit. Be still a moment. Do you feel this?"
"Questioning. Am I under arrest? Riot?"
"Please answer the question."
"Yes, I feel it. That's where my cut is. Or was. That's not cut, too?"
"It is not. I am calibrating your responses."
She tried to say pffft or something similar, but it came out more like a sigh.
"How are my responses, then? What about my riot? Am I under arrest, really?"
Somehow the idea of having her own riot, of being her own riot, was both energizing and ridiculous. She giggled. It must be the drugs. . . .
"Pilot Waitley, you are under security guard for your own benefit. There was a riot. You were at the center of it. I don't doubt the scorecard will make the rounds; three broken arms, several broken noses, multiple concussions. And that is just among those who admit to being there."
"I'm going to be thrown out as a danger to the school!"
"Pilot, please."
She looked up, saw his face serious rather than bland and medical.
"The school, indeed the planet, will take the wrong lesson," he said softly. "Yes, I fear you have it."
She closed here eyes again, realized she was carrying threads of thought at different levels. "Why were they wearing vya? Will it take seven days for me to stop hurting?"
He laughed, which surprised her, and she opened her eyes.
"Permission, lady, to answer briefly."
She nodded.
"Vya is sometimes used medically, and sometimes as an overstimulant to create concentration or passion. Those of the broken noses were drunk on vya and other such stimulants and were therefore both unconquerable and heedless of danger. As for the seven days, the coming changes have become clear to me and I am among the first to have issued my resignation letter to the academy."
Thirty
Administrative Hearing Room One
Anlingdin Piloting Academy
"My ID is authentic!"
Theo schooled herself to calmness, thinking the dance moves rather than dancing them, remembering that she didn't need to always be ready to fight, feeling the aches that meant she'd just been in a fight.
The Anlingdin student ID wasn't the problem; that checked out. That she'd need to show any ID to get into her own hearing, accompanied by a well-known staff member, was on the far side of enough, already. But the demand had clearly been for "All academic and professional ID, please," and that had surely meant her Guild card, which she'd trumped with the Hugglelans Rotating Staff ID card. That card, too, had been accepted at face value, but the Guild card was another matter.
The guard in the unfamiliar uniform scanned the unmarred ID again, shaking his head.
"It does appear authentic. But it wasn't issued on Eylot, by the registry office here. It didn't go to the planet registry for approval. This one was processed elsewhere, so it didn't have local approval, and it's so recent that—"