Theo shook her head. Something was wrong – really wrong – and whatever it was, the adults weren't talking to her about it.
"Pack up, Theo, we're moving to the Wall," she said, in a wicked – and deadly accurate – imitation of Kamele in her I-am-the-mother voice.
And Father – Theo sniffed. She'd been sure he would understand her position. But he was just as bad as Kamele – Don't be late for your mother! Treating her like she was a kid –
And that was wrong on a whole 'nother level, Theo thought, as she leaned over the ambiset again, turning off the aromatics, white noise and breeze. Father never treated her like a kid – even when she acted like one. Especially when she acted like one.
She chewed her lip, staring down into the blank floor. Kamele wasn't stupid – and neither was Housefather Kiladi, despite his frequent claims to the contrary. If whatever was going on was so twisty that they couldn't untwist it...
"Maybe we ought to take it to Delm Korval, after all," she said over her shoulder in Coyster's general direction. He sneezed, and she grinned, reluctantly.
Behind her came the snap of the closet's magnetic locks meeting and sealing. At that instant, her mumu thweeped its reminder – her mother would be waiting downstairs, with new keys in hand, and a determination to leave the house on Leafydale Place, where Theo had lived her whole life. 'Til now.
"Chaos!" Theo muttered. She grabbed the closet's handle and dashed back to the cube, sealing it with one hand while she dragged her bag over a shoulder with the other.
One last look then around the blank, bleak room. Then she took a firm grip on closet and cube and hurried out. Behind her, in the empty room, the left-behind storybooks trembled on their shelf, and one tumbled to the featureless floor.
Chapter Two
University of Delgado
Faculty Residence Wall
Quadrant Eight, Building Two
"Your room's just down the hall." Kamele waved vaguely to the right. "Why don't you take your things in and get settled? I've sent out for dinner – our first meal in our new apartment! An inauguration!"
Theo, closet and cube in tow, looked around the tiny, severely squared receiving parlor. The walls and floor were white ceramic – fireproof, explosion resistant, and certified safe, just like the whole rest of the Wall. Three plastic chairs sat in a semi-circle around a battered table that looked like it might actually be wood. The smooth floor was partially covered with a rug Theo had last seen rolled up in the storage bin at... home. Kamele had probably intended it to soften the space, but the faded yellow and red flowers only looked sad and beaten down by the shiny whiteness.
"Theo?" Her mother's voice had that bright, brittle quality that meant she was 'way too tired and stressed out. Not a good time to ask if the joke was over and could they could go home now.
"Sorry." Theo took a deep breath and got a firmer grip on the leads of her luggage. "I'll just go set up the closet."
Kamele gave her a too-fast smile and nodded. "I'll call you when dinner gets here."
"Great," Theo said, trying not to sound as worried as she felt. She steered her stuff carefully across the old rug and down the narrow hallway. When Kamele got into overdrive at home, Father would sit her down in the common room, bring her a glass of wine, and talk to her – about nothing, really. The weather. The cats. The fishing rod he'd seen in Nonactown. Theo wasn't sure if it was the wine, or Father's voice, or the warm, flowery breeze only he could coax from the ambiset, but whatever it was, all the bright, strained energy melted away and Kamele would fall asleep, and wake up her normal brisk and efficient self.
Theo wondered if there was any wine in the apartment – and then forgot about it as the door slid back to reveal her so-called "room."
The desk was directly across from the door, molded out of the wall, three short shelves above it, and two drawers below. Next to it was the bed, decently folded up at the moment, which was a good thing, Theo thought darkly, or else she wouldn't have fit inside, never mind her stuff.
She left the closet in the open doorway and gingerly maneuvered the cube into the corner to the right of the door, where it would be out of the way, more or less, dumped her pack on the floor beside it, took off her shoes, and threw her sweater over the back of the chair. Then she turned to survey the situation.
On inspection, there was only one possible place for the closet – the end wall to the left of the desk. Biting her lip, she shifted the folded-up closet back and forth between the narrow hall and the narrow doorway, trying to line up the the angle of entry.
Finally, she got the thing into the room and positioned it against the wall with a sigh of relief. She blew her bangs out of her eyes with a fuff, reached to the controls – and hesitated, reassessing the available space by eye.
Yes, she decided, again. The closet would fit.
Just.
While the closet expanded, she inventoried the desk, approving the neatly labeled connectors. She could hook up her school book, no problem; there was a socket for her mumu, and an extra, labeled "research."
Theo frowned. At home, she'd done all her research through the school book connection. She wondered if there were different protocols inside the Wall residences. A quick search of the desk drawers failed to turn up either hard-copy instructions or an official gold infoslip. Fine, then. She'd just ask the Concierge, the next time she jacked in her school book.
She turned to look at her pack, sitting slumped on the slick white floor next to the still-sealed cube, and frowned. Her solos were done; she'd made sure to finish them early, so she'd have time to pack, or – if Father had taken her side, which, in retrospect, she should've known he wouldn't – time to cook dinner and do a little recreational reading afterward.
"I'll get it tomorrow," she said to the room at large. "If it was that important, they would've left the instructions out where people could find them."
From the left came a bump, a wheeze, and a ping!, which was the closet's way of announcing that it was accessible, now. Theo went over to inspect, shaking her head. It fit, all right. Both ends were as tight against the corners as they could be.
"If I get another sweater, I'll have to keep it in the desk," she said, and bit her lip. She was used to talking to whichever cat happened to be in her room – lately, that had been Coyster, though Mandrin, Father's white-and-black, sometimes came by for a visit. Here in this new place, though, she was all by herself. She had to remember that. Chaos! Her mentor already thought it was weird that she talked to cats.
"Grow up, Theo," she muttered – and brought her fingers up against her lips.
Fingers still pressed to her mouth, she turned, skidding slightly on the slick floor, and wished she'd had the foresight to bring a rug. Maybe she could buy one at the co-op tomorrow. She had plenty of credit on her card; and if she could find one cheap enough, she wouldn't even have to have her mother's countersig. Now that she was fourteen, she could spend up to fifty credits a day on her own sig, much better than when she'd been a kid and had to have Kamele's sign every time she wanted to buy a fruit bar, or –
A gong went off, loudly. Theo jumped and spun, sock-feet slipping on the slick floor. She twisted, managing to stay upright more by luck than intent, and by the time she was oriented again, Kamele was calling her.