A connoisseur of formal gardens might have commented that the bluebells danced the dagger's edge between "doing well" and "overexuberant." Aelliana, however, did not admire strict order in a garden. Nor did he.
And the bluebells were Theo's favorites, after all.
"We must remember to send her a picture," he murmured. From his right came the creak and smack of the garden door opening. Kamele was home from her meeting early.
"Jen Sar!" she called, her footsteps quick on the path.
He turned, smiling as she came into sight, her hair rumpled and her cheeks pink with hurry. She had a small blue envelope from Data Receiving and a folded printout in one hand; the paper fluttered as she walked.
"Don't you look the picture of indolence," she murmured, bending to kiss him on the cheek. "Grading examinations, indeed!"
"Indolence is pictured thus: The honored professor lying on the grass, his venerable head supported by a kindly and compliant friend, and the second bottle uncorked," he returned, smiling up at her. "Here you see the professor taking a rejuvenating turn in the garden before returning to his labors."
"Of course I do," she said, and shook her head in mock irritation. "Compliant."
"Also kindly," he pointed out.
"That's very true." She nodded gravely, though her eyes were sparkling. "Silver-tongue."
"It has," he acknowledged mournfully, "been a lifelong affliction."
Kamele laughed, her glance going over his shoulder. "The bluebells are taking over the garden! I've never seen them so boisterous."
"I was just thinking that we must remember to send a picture to Theo."
"Yes, we should; she must miss them." She looked back to him, her face still glowing, but tending toward seriousness. "Speaking of Theo, I have a letter from Cho sig'Radia, who sends a present—to you!"
He raised an eyebrow. "A present? To me?"
"We did agree that you are the pilot who raised Theo, did we not?"
"I seem to recall being cast in that role, yes."
"If you accept the role, you accept the rewards of the role," Kamele told him. She nodded toward the house. "If your rejuvenation is complete, we might go back inside."
"So we might."
"Would you like some coffee?" he asked, as they strolled up the pathway together. "There was a packet of Lake Country beans in today's delivery."
Kamele sighed. "That sounds lovely. There must be a way to get funding for decent coffee in Admin, but I haven't found it yet."
"Raise tuition?" he suggested, as the door opened.
"Don't think I haven't considered it," she said darkly, stepping into the kitchen ahead of him. She put the letter and the packet on the kitchen table and glanced at the coffeemaker.
"I'll do that," he said, "if you would like to change into house clothes."
Kamele grinned at him. "Thank you, Jen Sar. And by all means, do read Captain sig'Radia's letter while I'm gone. Just promise that you won't open the package until I'm back."
"That seems a fair compromise," he said placidly, moving toward the pantry. Kamele laughed; a moment later, he heard her running upstairs.
He measured the beans into the hopper, set the texture, poured water into the reservoir and touched the control. The grinder whirred quietly. He went to the table, plucked up the sheet of printout and carried it to the window, hitching a hip onto the ledge as he unfolded the paper.
I, Cho sig'Radia greet Kamele Waitley, mother of Theo, to whom one has the honor to stand as patron.
Though term evaluations are ahead of us, yet I have received news of young Theo's progress which may put to rest such doubts as may have lingered in a mother's heart. I learn that our fledgling has performed very well in actual flight conditions. Indeed, she appears to have an exact and intuitive understanding of piloting at the hands-on level, which must—and does—gratify a hopeful patron. Theo has gained the attention of her elders in this and has been, so I am informed by Senior Instructor Pilot yos'Senchul, placed upon an accelerated flight path. Instead of remaining the full term with Slippers, over which she has demonstrated superiority, she has been moved up to powered flight and will soon know the pleasure of being wholly the master of her craft. The particular flight which drew special attention has been deemed to have some positive value as an auxiliary teaching aid by the school and by the aircraft manufacturers and permission to reproduce it for these purposes has been requested.
As the hopeful pilot's patron, I have negotiated a royalty contract with Anlingdin Academy in her name. Earnings under the term of this contract will be set against Theo's expenses at academy, with twenty-five percent deposited directly into an account under her sole ownership. As I understand custom, Theo has achieved the status of adult, and thus may take ownership of these financial properties, as well as administering her own contracts. If my understanding is insufficient, please teach me better and I shall make what amends I might.
Appended to this letter is a small gift. I ask, if it does not offend custom, that it be shared with the pilot who, with yourself, raised Theo. It will perhaps be of some interest.
It is my hope that this letter has found you in good health, with your goals well in hand, and I remain
Cho sig'Radia
Captain of Scouts
Jen Sar Kiladi refolded the printout along its creases, and sighed lightly.
From its place on the counter, the coffeemaker chimed; and he heard Kamele's footsteps on the stairs.
The coffee was poured, sampled and pronounced delicious. It being one of Kamele's small rituals to savor and prolong such moments, when the beverage was worthy, Jen Sar recruited himself to patience, and sipped again from his own cup.
He had taught himself to drink coffee; a graduate student could not afford to be too nice about the form in which one found one's caffeine, and Professor Kiladi had been a grad student, so it said in his dossier, on the very Terran world of Barvenna. He had, therefore, and by necessity, developed a tolerance. Later, under Kamele's tutelage, he had learned an appreciation.
The Lake Country was pleasant, medium bodied, aromatic, and with an aftertaste of raspberry. He concentrated on the flavor, and did not glance at the little package, still unopened on the kitchen table.
Kamele lowered her cup and smiled at him. "Aren't you going to open it?"
"I had not wished to intrude upon your moment," he said, truthfully.
"Of course, I'm not curious!" Kamele made one of her swooping, ironic gestures, her fingers approaching perilously close to his cup.
He avoided tragedy by lifting the endangered item and looked at her over the rim. "I wonder," he murmured. "Perhaps we had best just put it away."
Kamele laughed, and Jen Sar sighed dolefully.
"As transparent as that, am I? Very well, then, yes. With your permission, I will open it."
"I can't imagine what it could be."
He turned away, placing his cup carefully on the table before taking up the small blue-blazoned packet. It was not heavy, but of course, it would not be; data chips weighed very little.
A sim, Aelliana murmured inside his head, and sighed lightly. Perhaps it won't be . . . very . . . showy. She paused. Of course, it is Theo.