"Theo," she half whispered after catching up at a run, "where are you going?"
"I've got to be out of here, so the field . . ."
"But your things! In the dorm!" Kara's hands enumerated shirts jackets bags jewelry letters.
Theo stood quiet, considering, did a quick pat of her person, felt the wings on her collar, made sure the necklace was around her neck, checked on pockets, marked the gun's still unusual presence.
"I'm set. I have most of what I need on me."
Kara uncharacteristically stamped her foot.
"And you are going to give them your belongings!"
Theo swallowed against a sudden urge to tears, and shook her head.
"Hug me," she said, "and then go get the stuff. Keep it, dispose of it as you will, start a legal fund, anything!" Theo thought for a moment, recalling the signs Kara had made, shirts jackets bags jewelry letters.
Letters.
"Wait, there is something else! Letters, Kara—two letters from Win Ton yo'Vala. Send them to me care of the Pilots Guild at Codrescu. They'll hold them for me. Do that, and all will be well for me. The rest, do as you see fit!"
Kara froze a moment, and then bowed, very deeply and with flourishes.
"If you are certain, Theo Waitley, I will do this. I will be the instrument of your will."
Theo felt her smile fade, heard the sounds of the night include the shuttle's tow machine.
"Yes, Kara. I'm sure. I give you my key, and my word."
They hugged quickly, and Kara made her repeat the statement into her comm, so she had Theo's word, and tucked the key away. She hugged Theo again, then bowed one more time.
"Pilot, good lift!"
Theo nodded. "And to you," she said, "safe landing."
THIRD LEAP
Thirty-One
Hugglelans Planetary
Conglomeration of Portcalay
Eylot
Theo slept on the shuttle, content for once to have someone else do the piloting; waking groggily at touchdown. Eyes closed, she listened to the sounds of her fellow travelers—ten or twelve students including three part-timers she knew from the repair bays who had taken seats together at the front, willfully ignoring her, never once overtly looking at the single passenger in the last row in the rear. The ship also carried a double training crew of her classmates. Asu could be among them for all she knew, but Asu was not among those who inspected the interior of the craft before liftoff, nor was she among those departing the craft ahead of her on landing.
The angry energy that had seen her through her hearing and its immediate aftermath had deserted her entirely; and she considered simply going back to sleep. But no, that wouldn't do, would it? The shuttle would be returning to the academy and she was banned from the grounds. Eyes still closed, she fingered the chair's controls, sighing as it folded out of its recline.
C'mon, Theo, stand up. You've got work to do. Another sigh and she opened her eyes, saw the commanding shuttle pilot doing his end-of-flight stretch as he walked the ship.
"Time to move out, Pilot," he said mildly.
"Right." That sounded a little surly in her own ears, so she added, "Thanks," as she levered out of the chair, and moved down the aisle.
At the door she paused and looked back at him, surprising a look of sympathy on his face.
"Good lift," she said then, feeling like she owed him something for his concern.
"Safe landing," he answered quietly, as she dropped to the tarmac, waking the protest of six dozen bruises.
It wasn't a long walk to the office, but she was limping when she reached the door. There was a light on, of course; Hugglelans never closed. She set her hand against the door and pushed.
Aito glanced up from the console. He didn't look surprised to see her, even though she wasn't scheduled. On the other hand, he didn't look particularly pleased to see her, and Theo paused with her hand out, holding the door open.
"Should I go?" she asked him. "I don't want trouble."
He blinked, his professional smile snapping into place.
"Of course you don't want trouble," he said smoothly, gesturing her to come 'round the counter to the second chair. "You want a cup of tea and something to eat—and possibly an analgesic. I'll have a tray brought down from the kitchen. In the meantime, come and sit down, and tell me everything."
Splendid! she heard Father exclaim inside her head. You must tell me everything! She felt tears and a laugh rise together, coalescing in a sound something like a sneeze.
Aito raised his eyebrows.
"I'm sorry," she gasped, shaking her head. "It's just—you sounded so much like my father!"
He actually looked horrified. "That won't do at all," he managed, reaching out to flick a toggle on his board. "Come and sit down, Theo, before you fall down."
She did as she was told, settling into the old wooden chair with its short left leg. Tonight, the rocking motion was soothing and commonplace, when it was usually annoying. So she rocked, gently, and listened to Aito while he ordered food, and then called the restaurant main board, and arranged to shunt his console's business there.
"Until I take it back," he said, sharply, apparently in answer to how long this inconvenience was to go on.
Her fingers were twitching. Carefully, she folded them together on her knee. Aito hardly ever used the sharp side of his tongue; he must, she thought, be tired tonight.
"You may file a complaint with Father tomorrow if you—" He paused, maybe for an interruption, then continued with a full load of irony. "Yes. I thank you for your condescension, Seventh Daughter."
He closed the connection with a sharp move, and leaned back in his chair. Sighing, he lifted his hands and ran his fingers through his oiled hair, which didn't do anything more than make it sleeker.
"So," he said, giving her a grin that was less professional and more Aito. "What happened?"
The tray from the kitchen arrived while she was telling him everything; he poured tea for them both and shoved the plate of handwiches toward her. She took one, hardly attending what she did, and continued to talk.
When she was done, the plate was empty, a second hot pot of tea had arrived from the kitchen, and she felt—if not as energized as she had been after the hearing, then at least awake, on-task, and . . . determined.
"So, I'd like to put in my app for full time here at the yard," she finished, leaning forward, her cup cradled in both hands. "And to ask if I can claim a bed in the dorm—or rent a wayroom; I've got some money—"
Aito raised his hand, cutting her off. "One course at a time, Pilot. First, now that you are unburdened and fed—tell me how you feel. Do you require a physician? Will you have some painkillers?"
Theo considered that. Her hurts were mostly bruises and scrapes; while they nagged at her, she didn't think painkillers—no, she decided abruptly, definitely not painkillers. She needed to be alert.
It was an odd thing to think, here at Hugglelans, where she was safe, but she didn't question the rightness of her decision.
She looked to Aito and shook her head. "I'm . . . mostly all right. Healer el'Kemin said if I experienced any real trouble in the next seven days, then I should see him. If they'd let me."
Aito's eyes sharpened. "Seven days seems a peculiar figure," he noted.
Theo laughed slightly. "I said the same thing. It turns out he's put in his resignation, and he had to give academy admin seven days' notice."
"Oh," Aito said softly, and then, more loudly, "Oh." He snapped forward, fingers flickering as he entered a cal code into the board. "Your pardon, Theo," he murmured, picking up the receiver.
The comm buzzed twice, then clicked as the connection was accepted.