Still, she thought, in an attempt to cheer herself up, after she lived through teamplay and her chat with Marjene, she could look forward to the delivery of her rug.
...which was good, she acknowledged, frowning at her 'book, but didn't quite make up for the fact that Kamele hadn't yet given her a decision about Oktavi evening. She had to see Father. The 'book's screen blurred, and Theo bit her lip, blinking hard – and blinked again, staring at the unfamiliar icon sitting in the bottom left corner of the screen.
It was a small, even a demure, icon, in official-looking dark green: a coiled Serpent of Knowledge, Research floating above it in precise green letters. Theo frowned. She was certain the green icon hadn't been on her screen yesterday, so it must've been downloaded from one of today's classes, but... All their Sci work was done in Group Space, and Professor Wilit, their Social Engineering instructor, hadn't shared any links with the class today. Though Professor Wilit didn't always announce downloads or extra work assignments.
Well, Theo thought, it couldn't have gotten there by accident. She must've just not noticed the download.
"Advertency," she muttered, remembering Roni's jibe. "As if."
She touched the green icon.
It unfolded, like a flower blooming, until the entire screen was limned in green, with a query box centered.
Name? The floating green text asked.
A quiz, Theo thought, staring at the familiar layout. How in chaos had she missed that?
She keyed in her name. The center box faded as a new one glowed into being at center top.
Protocol, the floating text said. List primary line of inquiry.
Theo closed her eyes, thinking back to Social Engineering. She didn't remember Professor Wilit saying anything about a solo quiz, or an unscheduled paper. On the other hand, she discovered to her chagrin, she didn't remember much about any of the day's classes; it was like she'd been doing the work in her sleep.
She took a breath and brought her attention back to the screen.
Primary line of inquiry, for a Social Engineering solo? She chewed her lip. It had to be a Social Engineering solo, she decided. It was just like Professor Wilit. So. The little bit she remembered from today's class had to do with the mechanisms that societies put into place in order to enforce the goals of that society. She probably couldn't go wrong by initiating a line of inquiry into an enforcer protocol. The problem was narrowing the subject.
The Eyes don't watch everything, she heard the bus whisperer's voice again. Even we know that.
Which was, now that she thought about it, kind of an... interesting... thing to know. Especially since she knew that the Eyes did watch everything. It was knowing that, as much as the Eyes themselves, that kept society safe.
Except... getting pushed wasn't exactly safe, was it? she asked herself, and reached for the keys.
Primary line of inquiry: The Eyes, their purpose and their programmed watch cycles, she typed, and paused...
The box closed.
"I wasn't finished," Theo muttered, tapping the screen where the box had been. It did not reappear, but a third one did, at the right margin.
Result Sought: A graph or map, Theo typed rapidly, illustrating unwatched areas, with timetable.
The box faded, and a fourth came into existence on the left.
Deadline? it inquired, which gave her pause until she remembered that Professor Wilit never gave them deadlines for their work. She'd told them during their first class that she'd be doing a term-long study, and would share the results with them before the Interval. She'd said it would amuse them. Theo wasn't so sure – and, anyway, she liked to get her work done promptly. It wasn't like there was a lot of it, though if you listened to Lesset...
ASAP, Theo typed. The final box faded.
Accepted, came the message, and Theo nodded, fingering open a notepad and beginning to tap in a preliminary source list. She wondered if anyone at the Safety Office would talk to her about the Eyes, and if she should ask Professor Wilit for a study-chit. Each student got three per grade-term, and she'd already used one of hers. If the Safeties wouldn't talk to her, even with the chit, then she'd have wasted it, and would have only one in reserve for the rest of the term.
Her mumu was suddenly warm, signaling receipt of a message. Theo pulled it out of the pocket in her coveralls and thumbed the window up; her stomach clenching when she saw the text was from Kamele. If she couldn't see Father on Oktavi...
Theo, you may keep your dinner engagement with Professor Kiladi.
That was all.
Theo smiled and just sat there, holding her mumu and rereading that single line until the warning whistle sounded and it was time to pack up and go to teamplay.
* * * *
They'd changed clothes and got to the practice floor ahead of time with Roni's, "Don't be slow, don't be late!" echoing through the corridor the whole way. Of course they weren't going to be late – everyone on the team was trying to be on their mettle with the last few sessions worth of setbacks and point-bleeds threatening to drop Four Team Three to the lowest in the school for the year, much less to the lowest ever in the team's history. Seventy-eight Four Team Threes had come before them, and only five had had lower scores at this point in the year.
Father had once threatened to write a column for The Faq in order to gain, so he said, a greater audience for what he called the Fallacy of Infinite Comparability. Kamele had given him one of those frowns that quivered at the edges, like she was covering up a laugh, and said that if he wanted to commit academic suicide over a triviality it was up to him.
Apparently he had decided that publishing the Fallacy wasn't quite worth academic suicide, because the column never appeared. Despite that, Theo knew he had a valid point – comparing their team to teams from so long ago was... meaningless, really, given tech advancements, alterations in teaching theory and four dozen other facts. She felt the weight of team history anyway, and it wasn't made any lighter by the fact that she was the one holding the rest of them down.
Theo escaped the girls' dressing room with more relief than usual.
Roni'd been walking around with her shirt half-on explaining in a loud voice to the female team members the importance of bringing the Team average up, starting right now; and some more time complaining that she'd have to buy another new set of blouses, and maybe new shoes, too, because she was growing so much.
"Every one of us has got to start acting mature!" she'd said sternly, veering between topics like a honeybumble between two nectar-filled blossoms. "We've got to take responsibility for our own actions and support the team properly!"
Theo had tried not to cringe under the barrage of "mature, growing-up, and act-adult," sentiments Roni'd thrown around – it sounded like she was just re-broadcasting the last things she'd heard from her mentor. Worse, Roni had particularly stared at Theo's chest when when she'd said, "growing up."
It wasn't until Theo arrived at the game court that she realized why Roni had been talking quite so loudly and importantly. Normally, Roni wasn't much for the active games like Scavage – she said they made her sweat too much – but this was her second turn as captain, and Roni liked to be in charge!
That's antisocial! Theo told herself, and bent into her warm ups with a will, trying to focus on the Team, rather than the individuals.