'Or Ted E. Bear for short?' Moira chuckled. 'I like it. It fits him. He's such a solemn-faced little fellow. One would think he was a software executive. He looks like a bear with a great deal on his mind.'
Tia studied Ted carefully. Moira was right; he was a sober little bear, with a very studious expression, as if he was listening very hard to whatever was being said. His bright blue coloration in no way contradicted the seriousness of his face, nor did the frivolous little red shirt he was wearing with the blue and yellow Courier Service circle-and-lightning-bolt on the front
'Is there anything going on that I need to know, Moira?' she asked, giving over her careful examination of her new friend and hugging him to her chest instead.
'The results of your last batch of tests seems to have satisfied all the Psych people out there that you're a perfectly well-balanced and self-sufficient girl,' Moira replied, knowing without Tia prompting her just what was on her mind. 'So there's no more talk of making your parents send you to boarding school.'
Tia sighed with relief; that had been a very real worry the last time Moira had been here. The ship had left with the results of a battery of tests and psychprofiles that had taken two days to complete.
'I have to tell you that I added to that,' Moira said, slyly. 'I told them what kind of a birthday present you had asked for from me.'
'What did they say?' Tia asked, anxiously. Had they thought she was being immature, or worse yet, that it meant she harbored some kind of neurosis?
'Oh, it was funny. They were questioning me on open com, as if I was some kind of AI that wouldn't respond to anything that wasn't a direct question, so of course I could hear everything they said. There was silence for a moment, and then the worst of the lot finally blurted out, 'Good heavens, the child is normal,' as if he'd expected you to ask for a Singularity simulator or something.' Moira chuckled.
'I know who it was, too,' Tia said shrewdly. 'It was Doctor Phelps-Pittman, wasn't it?'
'Dead on the target, wenchette,' Moira replied, still chuckling. 'I still don't think he's forgiven you for beating him in Battle Chess. By the way, what is your secret?'
'He moves the Queen too often,' Tia said absently. 'I think he likes to watch her hips wiggle when she walks. It's probably something Freudian.'
A splutter of static was all that followed that pronouncement, as Moira lost control of the circuit briefly. 'My, my,' she replied, when she came back online. 'You are a little terror. One might almost suspect you of having as much control as a shell-person!'
Tia took that in the spirit it was meant, as a compliment.
'I promise not to tell him your weakness,' the ship continued, teasingly.
'What's that?' Tia was surprised; she hadn't known she had one.
'You hate to see the pawns sacrificed. I think you feel sorry for the little guys.'
Tia digested this in silence for a moment, then nodded reluctant agreement. 'I think you're right,' she admitted. 'It seems as if everybody can beat them up, and it doesn't seem fair.'
'You don't have the problem with an ordinary holo-board game,' Moira observed casually.
'That's because they're just little blobby pieces on a holo-board game,' Tia explained. 'In Battle Chess they're little pikemen. And they're cute.' She giggled. 'I really love it when Pawn takes Knight and he hits the Knight with the butt of his pike right in the,'
'And that's why you frighten old Phelps-Pittman,' Moira said severely, though Tia could tell she didn't mean it. 'He keeps thinking you're going to do the same to him.'
'Well, I won't have to see old sour-face for another year and a half,' she said comfortably.' Maybe I can figure out how to act like a normal girl by then.'
'Maybe you can,' Moira replied. 'I wouldn't put even that past you. Now, how about a game of Battle Chess? Ted Bear can referee.'
'Of course,' she agreed. 'You can use the practice. I'll even spot you a pawn.'
'Oh come now! You haven't gotten that much better since I saw you last.' At Tia's continued silence, the ship asked, tentatively, 'Have you?'
Tia shrugged. 'Check my record with Socrates,' she suggested.
