"You're not lazy," she said sullenly, and took a deep breath. "And the fact is, you don't know when – or if! – she'll decide to come back here. She might decide to, to... "
...to choose another onagrata, which was – unthinkable. Theo took a hard breath. I won't cry, she thought. I won't!
"She may decide to remain separate from me," Father said, completing her thought smoothly, like it didn't matter. "She may decide to seek another arrangement for herself and for you. These things fall within her rights as an adult in this society. However, if you will give the matter only a little consideration, I believe you will discover that you have some rights, as well. For how long have we enjoyed our private dinner on Oktavi evening?"
She blinked at him. "Ever since Kamele started teaching the late seminar," she said. "Years and years."
"So, it is a long-standing arrangement to which your mother has given her consent. There is therefore no reason to discontinue our pleasant habit, unless you wish to do so."
"I don't!"
"Then there is no more to be said." He tipped his head, consideringly. "This is not, I think, something for Delm Korval."
He wanted her to laugh, Theo thought. Treating her like a kid. Well... she wouldn't laugh, that was all.
But she did feel, just a little, relief, knowing that the just-them Oktavi dinner would stand, no matter where Kamele –
The ancient mechanical clock wall mounted over Father's desk struck its two notes just then – one for the hour, and one for the eighth, which was seven – and a muted thweep from her pocket registered her mumu's agreement.
Professor Kiladi moved his shoulders in his familiar, supple shrug, and reached out to tousle her hair, like she was six instead of fourteen.
"The hour advances, child. Go finish packing. Your mother will wish to leave for the Wall before night opens its eyes."
"I – " She cleared her throat. "I'll come by your office on Oktavi, at the usual time."
"Indeed," he said solemnly. "I anticipate the occasion with pleasure." He smiled, then, gently. "Take good care, Theo. We need not be strangers, you know."
"I know," she said. Mustering her dignity, she turned to go, only to find her body overruling her mind, as it so often did. She spun, flinging herself against him in a hug, squeezing tight, feeling strong arms hugging her in return.
"You take care," she muttered fiercely into his shoulder. "Promise me, Father."
"I promise, child," he murmured, his deep voice a comfort. He released her, stepping back out of the embrace.
"Go, now. Be on time for your mother."
* * * *
Theo dropped the case containing her music slips into the packing cube, narrowly missing Coyster's inquisitive pink nose.
"Keep out of there!" she told him, turning back toward the desk. "You don't want to get packed, do you?"
Coyster didn't answer. Theo swept up her biblioslips, the extra thread and her back-up hooks, and went back to the cube, walking so hard that the simulated koi swimming in the floor mosaic dashed away to hide under the simulated lily pads.
Bending, she put her things carefully into the cube and sighed, staring down into the half-empty interior. Beside her, Coyster sighed in sympathy and settled onto the rippling blue waters, white paws tucked neatly under orange chest, amber eyes serious.
"Hey." Theo knelt and tickled him under the chin. "I'm going to miss you, cat," she whispered, blinking hard. "Don't play with Father's lures, 'k? You'll get in trouble if I'm not around to untangle them for you."
Coyster squeezed his eyes shut in a cat-smile, and Theo blinked again before giving him one last chuck under the chin and rising to her feet.
Her bed was stripped and folded away; the desk was clear. The desk itself, and the bed, were staying right here; all the faculty apartments in the Wall were furnished, Kamele had told her, adding that one desk was as good as another.
Theo doubted that, but Kamele had made it clear that the discussion period was closed, so she'd kept the thought to herself.
She took a deep breath. Really, she was almost done. All that was left was to take the pictures down, fold up the closet, and decide about her old books – and the mobile.
The mobile – that was hard. She'd made it herself for an art project, back when she'd been a kid. It was the Delgado System, with its space station and twin ringed ice giants, built to micro-scale. With Father's help, she'd hung it up where the air from the vent would move it. Coyster had discovered it as a kitten, and had hatched all kinds of plans to reach it – from leaping straight up from the floor, to taking a running leap off the top shelf over the desk – but the mobile remained uncaptured.
Lately, he'd gotten above trying to capture it, but Coyster still harbored a fascination for the flying, spinning thing. Theo would entertain him – and herself – by changing the speed or direction of the air flow from the vent, to make the mobile twirl wildly, or spin verrrrry slowly. She turned her head. Yes, he was watching it now from his tuck-up next to the cube, ears set at a calculating angle.
Theo grinned, then nodded. That settled it. The mobile stayed; it would give Coyster something to do besides stalking Mandrin and playing with Father's fishing gear.
The books... She wandered over to the shelf, koi beneath her shoes, and fingered the worn spines. Mr. Winter and the Mother of Snows; The Shy Kitten; I Can Find It! – stories for littlies, that Kamele and Father had read to her until she could read them herself, and did until she'd memorized them. Her fingers moved on, tarrying on Sam Tim's Ugly Day, and a smile tugged at the corner of her unwilling mouth. "Is it worth taking to Delm Korval?" she whispered, and shook her head, eyes blurring again.
"Well." She turned away from the shelf and looked down at the koi making lazy circles inside the floor. "No sense cluttering up my new room with books I never read anymore," she said, maybe to the simulated fish, or maybe to the cat drowsing by the cube. She sniffled a little, and turned on her heel.
Her clothes hung orderly in the closet: dark green school coveralls with Team Three's red stripes on shoulder and cuff; sweaters, jerseys, and slacks. She pulled her favorite sweater off its hanger, and slipped it on, her fingers stroking the border of bluebells 'round the cuff. It was too early for bluebells in the garden, of course, but –
She swallowed, blinking hard to clear her vision, and slapped the side of the closet harder than was really needed. It began to compress, hissing a little as the air squeezed out of her clothes.
Next stop was the control unit over the desk. She put her fingers against the keys, eyes closed so she didn't have to see the picture of Delgado from the space station's observation tower snap out of existence, or the picture of Zolanj, who had been Father's cat before Mandrin, and who had sometimes agreed to sit on Theo's lap, but never on Kamele's. Or the picture of the river camp where Father went to fish, or...
Her fingers moved across the keypad with cold deliberation, like they belonged to someone else, while Theo bit her lip and reminded herself that they were stored in the house bank, and that she easily could retrieve them when she came... back.
Her fingers touched one last button; she took a deep breath and opened her eyes, to look 'round at her denuded room.
It looked... peculiar... with blank walls and floor, without all of her things spread around – like a stay-over room on the 'station. She blinked again, reminding herself for the hundredth time that she was not going to cry.
"Is this move really necessary?" she asked Coyster, but he was absorbed in watching the mobile and didn't answer.