- Prologue

may have satisfied custom in a way Father would have approved of, but it certainly hadn't satisfied her.

'Orn Ald, that's fine for you to say, but some of us have meetings and classes in the morning.'

Hand-talk, compressed and sudden. Theo caught fix now quick and then realized they were heading at quite a pace toward the faculty airstrip.

'Why did we have to act like losing my hours was an accident?'

Theo tried not to whine but wasn't sure she'd succeeded.

Veradantha spoke, gently, but not in answer to either the question or the tone.

'Theo Waitley, my good friend Orn Ald and I wish, evidently, to speak with you outside the range of official ears.'

yos'Senchul's flashed a general query yes?

'You are hungry, Theo?' he asked aloud.

'Still mad,' she confessed. 'I ought to be hungry, I guess.' She walked on, glad of the brisk pace, tension in her shoulders and inner calm starting to sound like a bad joke.

'I understand your dismay, Pilot,' yos'Senchul murmured. 'Would you be kind enough to fly us to dinner? The flight will do us all good, I'm sure, and your choice at this point falls to deciding if you'd like to partake of local fried-and-spiced night snacks or a quiet dinner at an A-class restaurant?'

She laughed.

'You're serious? Fly us to dinner? I'm always hungry after.'

'Indeed. We all have had our routines disturbed by Wilsmyth's antics. Dinner will help. But what kind of meal?'

'I'm not good for real fancy, I think.'

'Excellent. If you will step this way, there's a Star King VI to which I hold the keys.' He pointed. A shiny, very new craft occupied the tie-down he indicated, 'Also, if we choose carefully, we shall more than make up the 'split difference' between the account hours you've earned and those as recorded by Wilsmyth. In the bargain, we shall certify night hours.'

Theo almost stumbled, suddenly seeing what had happened—not only seeing it, but recognizing it. How many times had she seen Father bow his head, and seem to cede an argument—to her or to Kamele or to a visiting colleague—only to later deftly turn his defeat into victory?

'Thank you,' Theo said, fervently. 'I should have known! Liadens know how to manage around red tape! Thank you for being on my side! I—'

'Silence!'

They all three stopped, the glare of the runway lights making them a tableau of dark cutouts across the access paths.

Instructor yos'Senchul's jauntiness was gone, and before Theo stood a dangerous man. She felt some of the dance roused in her, and went back a step, wariness answering the set of his shoulders, the warning in his pose.

Carefully, she raised her hands, fingers spread in the sign for no danger here.

'Ah.' Threat melted away; he inclined his head, hand-sketching an emphatic attend!

'Student Waitley, this confrontation with Wilsmyth should teach us all much, but what it should not teach you, what you should never learn, is to trust and rely on someone simply because they are Liaden.'

Theo lowered her hands, slowly. 'Yes, sir.'

'In this situation,' yos'Senchul continued, 'our goals align. As an instructor, I wish that a promising student is given the opportunity to prove herself without falling victim to petty politics and power struggles. You have acquitted yourself well this day, and I approve.

'Always know where you stand with a Liaden, student. Do they deal with you as friend, then that is a rare gift—and one to be examined, closely. If they deal with you in business, deal carefully and accurately, and promise nothing you cannot perform. When dealing with pilots, treat as a pilot and you will be treated so. Assume nothing, however, about someone simply because they are Liaden. If you are not affiliated with a clan, a Liaden will treat you as disposable, if that is convenient. If you display melant'i, as you do, expect to be treated with respect. Do not expect benefits from Liadens. As with anyone, expect what you are given, assuming neither hostility nor grace—and be on guard for either.'

It left her breathless, his quiet vehemence. Theo did the only thing she felt able to do; she inclined her head.

'Well put, my friend,' Veradantha said, moving slowly but smoothly down the field. They followed, her voice trailing behind her like a silken scarf.

'There is something in pilot lore which speaks to this, in fact. As a pilot, the usual rules of behavior on duty are assumed to include a number of things. Let us see—you may number them later if you like, and I will miss some.' She raised a long forefinger in emphasis.

'Always know where your ship is and in what state. Always carry an extra weapon—this assuming one always carries two weapons to begin with—your extra is preferably one you are willing to use for a last stand. Be prepared to fight—we know you know this one!—but be prepared also to run and to be small, for a dead, jailed or administratively restricted pilot flies no ship. When you walk in strange places be aware of those who may follow you, and though sitting with your back to the wall is useful, it is not always sufficient. Always know more than you tell, and share all of your secrets, even on your deathbed, only with those who will properly treasure them.'