Theo's stomach twisted.
"Will you invite me to your apartment on Topthree?"
"We're not going to Topthree," Theo said, breathless. We're going home, she told herself. Kamele's going to finish her temp post and then we'll go home!
"You don't think Professor Waitley's good enough to be chair?"
"She's at least good enough to be chair!" Theo snapped, then blinked, seeing the trap too late. "I just don't think Admin'll pick her, is all," she finished lamely.
"Well..." Lesset let the word drift off, unwilling to argue on Admin's side, and Theo grabbed at the chance to change the subject.
"What're you going to do for Professor Wilit's solo?"
"Whose solo?"
"Professor Wilit," Theo repeated patiently. Lesset tended to put off her work until the last second, which Theo had never understood. She probably hadn't even opened her 'book yet. "There's a – "
"Hang on," Lesset interrupted. A woman said something unintelligible in the background, to which Lesset answered, "Theo."
Something else from Lesset's mother, her voice fading as she moved out of mumu range.
"Yes, ma'am," Lesset said, and then, her voice louder, "Theo, I've got to go. I'll see you tomorrow, 'k?"
"Okay – " she said, but might've saved the breath. Lesset had already cut the connection.
Sighing, Theo put the mumu on the rug beside her. She picked up her handwork, but couldn't seem to focus on it. Finally, she put it next to the mumu and stretched out, carefully, on the rug.
So soft... she thought, and closed her eyes – then opened them as Coyster put his nose against hers.
"Prrt?" he asked, amber eyes staring down into hers.
Theo rubbed his cheek. "Quiet," she said. "I've gotta think."
"Prrt!" Coyster stated, and curled around on her shoulder, purring immediately.
The last thing Theo remembered was thinking how nice that was...
* * * *
Kamele dropped her research book on her desk, and rubbed her eyes. She was going to have to stop running at triple speed soon – but there was so much to do! If she could get a decent night's sleep... she shook her head, mouth wobbling. She'd thought the move back to the Wall would be... comforting. After all, she had come home...
...only to find that home had shrunk, or that she had grown in... unanticipated directions, so that the once-comfortable embrace of the Wall now chafed and irritated.
And it could hardly help matters that she had become unaccustomed to sleeping alone.
Her head hurt. She reached up and pulled the pins loose, letting her hair tumble down to her shoulders. It was so fine that she had to keep it pinned tight, else it wisped and wafted around her face and shoulders. Uncontrollable stuff. And Theo had inherited it, poor child.
Kamele massaged her temples, and finger-combed her wispy, unmanageable hair. She thought about going down to the faculty lounge to pull a coffee, and decided against it. She'd had enough caffeine for one day – no, she'd had more than enough – and caffeine was the only reason to drink coffee from the department's kaf.
She sat down at her desk, and pushed the 'book aside, glancing at the privacy panel as she did. Yes, the door status was set to "open." Office hours would be done by sevenbells and she could go home. Perhaps she'd stop at the co-op on her way and pick up a bottle of wine. She wrinkled her nose, remembering the last time she'd had wine out of the co-op.
Or perhaps not.
There being no students immediately in need of her attention and advice, Kamele pulled out her mumu and tapped the screen on.
There was a message from Ella in queue, assuring her that the Oversight Committee was already moving on their request for the forensic lit search. They, at least, said Ella, took the possibility of an accreditation loss very seriously indeed. Kamele nodded, pleased.
After Ella's note, there were a dozen or so routine messages from colleagues and Admin. Below them were two marked "urgent" – one from the L&R Department and the other from Marjene Kant.
Panic pinched Kamele's chest. She took a deliberately deep breath to counter it, and opened the message from L&R.
Professor Viverain wrote a clean, terse, hand, and Kamele was very shortly in possession of the facts of Four Team Three's scavage game. Viverain took the trouble to state not once, but twice, that Roni Mason had put herself into a position of peril, in defiance of the rules of both the game and of good sportsmanship, and, upon being injured, had immediately begun to kick Theo, who had already been knocked to the floor by the collision.
In summary, Viverain praised both Theo's teamwork and her growing skill in scavage and hoped that Professor Waitley would not hesitate to contact her with any questions she might have about the incident.
Kamele closed her eyes. Roni Mason was spoiled and unprincipled, following, Kamele thought uncharitably, properly in her mother's footsteps. Well. She opened her eyes. There was more, she was certain.
And indeed there was. The appended Safety Office report suggested that the incident might have been avoided, or at least stopped short of bloodshed, had Theo not been involved. The reporting Safety fielded the theory that Roni Mason had been trying to kick the dropped ball, not realizing, in her distraction and pain that (1) the game was over, and (2) that she was kicking Theo.
This was so transparently mendacious that it seemed unlikely that anyone would believe it. On the other hand, Theo had a long string of notes in her file documenting instances of her horrifying clumsiness, all the way back to first form. Whatever her discipline problems – and Kamele had heard they were not inconsiderable – Roni Mason was not tagged as "physically limited."
Lips pressed tight, Kamele called up the A-Team report: Theo had suffered bruised ribs; the A-Teamer had administered analgesic and muscle relaxant, suggesting that the same be given before bedtime to prevent stiffness and to insure a restful night.
Kamele took a deep breath and exhaled, forcefully. Unfortunately, the exercise did very little to prepare her for Marjene's message.
I feel compelled to inform you, it began without preamble, that Theo ended our scheduled meeting this evening precipitously, standing up while we were in the middle of a discussion and announcing that she was expecting a delivery. I understand that her problem on the scavage court had distressed her, and that the topics we had before us were unsettling, but this sort of rudeness toward one who –
Kamele closed Marjene's message and filed it. After consideration, she also filed Viverain's report, with attachments.
Half-a-dozen taps notified her students and the Department Chair that she had canceled what remained of her office hours. That done, she slipped the mumu away, changed the room status from "open" to "closed," gathered up her 'book and left the office, walking rapidly.
* * * *
Someone close by was singing something soft and abstract, like honeybumbles in the flowers. Beneath the song was the soft, familiar click of keys. Kamele sang like that sometimes, Theo thought, drifting comfortably awake, when she was concentrating. It was a different kind of singing than she did for the chorale – more like a cat purring contentment. Theo sighed, broke the surface of wakefulness and opened her eyes.
Barely two hand-spans away, Kamele sat cross-legged on the rug, her 'book on her knee, face down turned, fingers moving gently on the keys, her hair wisping around her shoulders in disorderly waves. Coyster was sprawled on the rug at her side, snoring.
Theo sighed again, and her mother looked up from her work, the song murmuring into silence.