Christine nodded. “Yeah. Listen, Steph. You were great there. I mean, I’ve seen you lose it a whole lot more at practice when Trudy gets dumb. This was a lot nastier than blocking your glider.”
Toby bounced in agreement. “You were great. I thought we were going to see you use Trudy’s head to mash the ice potatoes.”
Stephanie laughed. “My folks would have killed me. They take hospitality seriously-and so do I. I saw Karl carrying the tanapple pie out. I hope you’ll try it. It’s his Aunt Irina’s recipe. It’s seriously wonderful, sour at first, but with a sweet note.”
“Kinda like Steph herself,” Chet said, grinning. “Right, Christine?”
“Absolutely,” Christine said.
“Bleek!” agreed Lionheart, scampering ahead to where a tray of celery had been put out for his and Fisher’s dessert. “Bleek! Bleek!”
Chapter Seven
Stephanie slid into the pilot’s seat of the government air car, belted herself in, and took a quick minute to familiarize herself with the control panel while Ms. Schwartz, the test administrator-a wiry woman whose jaded expression said she’d seen it all and expected to see worse-got in on the other side.
“Whenever you’re ready,” Ms. Schwartz said, positioning her uni-link so she could take notes. “We’ll start with the vehicle on automatic. Then, if you pass the first part of the test, we’ll go through the same areas with the air car on manual so you can attempt to qualify for a provisional license. The route should be coming up on the HUD.”
Stephanie noted where a neat shocking-green line was taking form on the heads-up display and nodded. She checked right and left, as well as behind and above, before taking the air car out of its parking space and into the streets of Twin Forks.
Last night at the party, word had somehow gotten out that Stephanie planned on taking her test today. Everyone still there-Trudy, thank goodness, had left-had regaled Stephanie with stories about how the test administrators delighted in taking off points for the most minor infractions-one of which included relying on the HUD to the exclusion of visual checks.
The course the shocking-green line guided Stephanie through included piloting at various elevations, through both urban and rural conditions. Stephanie had only limited real experience with street-level piloting, but she’d put in so many hours on the sims that she had to remind herself that this time it was for real.
Eventually, she brought the air car back to their starting point.
“You’ve a perfect score so far,” Ms. Schwartz said, managing to sound both pleased and miffed. “Are you sure you want to try the manual test? If you fail, you’ll lose even your learner’s permit. You can’t retest for another three T-months.”
Stephanie had thought the penalty was ridiculous, but now, considering Trudy and her blackhole friends, Stephanie thought she understood. Cockiness-especially when someone was handling something as potentially lethal as an air car-was not to be encouraged.
“I’m sure I want to try, ma’am,” Stephanie said.
“Then switch to manual,” the administrator replied, reaching forward to activate something on her override panel, “and follow the line.”
The second pass went smoothly until they were outside of Twin Forks. As they were passing over one of the many streams that fed the Mankara River, a freak squall blew up. Solid as the air car was, the vehicle bucked enough to rattle Stephanie’s teeth. Ms. Schwartz gasped aloud and leaned toward her override panel.
Here, Stephanie’s hours of hang gliding, as well as those spent practicing with Karl, paid off. Before Ms. Schwartz could activate the override, Stephanie had compensated for the turbulence, anticipated where the wind was headed, and moved the car into smooth air without diverting too far off the pre-ordained route. As soon as she judged weather conditions were safe, Stephanie brought the air car back on course and finished the test route.
Ms. Schwartz said nothing until the air car touched down outside of the government center and Stephanie had performed the shut-down routine in perfect order. Then she leaned over and clapped Stephanie on the shoulder.
“Good job, Ms. Harrington,” Ms. Schwartz said, beaming. “I’d heard you had a cool head. I’m glad the stories were true.”
“Does that mean I passed?”
“With a perfect score. I’ll be sending the results in to headquarters, and the official license should be on record before it’s time for you to fly home.” Ms. Schwartz gave an impish grin. “Be sure to ask your father to let you pilot.”
Stephanie grinned back. She knew her dad would, just as she knew he’d be nervous about actually letting her be in charge. Even the best parents were funny that way.
Because Lionheart had come into town with them, and treecats weren’t allowed inside without special permission, the doctors Harrington had waited outside the administration building for Stephanie.
“Lionheart has been ‘bleak bleaking’ in obvious glee since you brought the air car back from the second pass,” Mom said, laughing as Stephanie ran up to them, “so don’t bother to tell us you passed. We know!”
“This calls for a celebration,” Dad added. “I’ve called Eric Flint and reserved a table for us at the Red Letter Cafe. Fortunately, they’re open for late lunch.”
The Red Letter Cafe was one the businesses that had pioneered a “treecat friendly” policy. That-and the fact that it served desserts to die for in very large portions-made it a favorite of the Harrington clan. After they’d stuffed themselves with both lunch and enormous ice-cream concoctions, Stephanie looked at her parents.
“Dad, Mom, the woman who gave me my test said that I should ask you if I could fly home. Please?”
Richard Harrington sighed theatrically. “Well, at least I’ll die well-fed. Why don’t you go bring the car around? I know we usually walk here in town, but maybe you’ll get pulled over and I’ll be spared a terrifying ride.”
Giggling, Stephanie leapt to her feet and motioned to Lionheart.
“Not this time,” Mom said. “Let’s have your maiden voyage be with as few distractions as possible, all right?”
Stephanie didn’t protest. Lionheart was rather soggy, since his idea of a terrific dessert involved shredding massive amounts of celery. If he stayed with her folks, he’d have a chance to mop up.
They’d parked over near the administrative center, but Stephanie didn’t mind the walk. In fact, it was all she could do not to skip. She was considering comming Karl and sharing the good news when she heard familiar voices coming from a couple of businesses that had already closed for the day.
She couldn’t see the speakers-they must be around back-or make out what was being said, but one voice definitely belonged to Stan Chang, Trudy’s beau and someone Stephanie disliked, if possible, even more than she did Trudy. Another was Stan’s good buddy, Focus Camara. Normally, Stephanie would have just hoped they wouldn’t see her, but as she drew closer, she heard Toby Mednick speak.
“No, guys, really. I can’t. I’m late already.”
“Awe, c’mon, Toby,” Focus said. “If you’re already late, then what does it matter if you’re later?”
“But, guys…”
Toby’s voice held notes of defeat rather than protest. Stephanie knew the prudent thing would be to keep going or at least get some backup, but remembering how Stan and Focus had gotten Toby into trouble at least once already, she couldn’t. Not only was Toby younger than her, but-remembering how much fun they’d had at her party the day before-Toby was her friend. Stephanie had gotten so used to thinking of herself as friendless-at least when it came to kids her own age-that the thought hit her with almost physical force. But it was true. Toby was her friend and she could no more leave him in the lurch than she could Karl…or Lionheart.
Again, Stephanie considered comming for help, but something in the tone of the voices made her think there wasn’t any time to waste.
Stan was saying, “You know, Toby, from how you’re acting, you’d think you didn’t want to be pals with us.
