Free Fledgling by Steve Miller, Sharon Lee Page B

whole half-year's cred to have a Specialty come down from the station all dressed up like a Liaden."
    "But who'd pay for a fluffy dacky?" the first wondered, and the two of them laughed noisily. Theo bit her lip.
    The route map she was staring at flickered, the upcoming stop limned in green.
    "That's us, then," said the whisperer named Vinter. There was the sound of shuffling behind her as the two of them got up—while the bus was still moving!—and stepped toward the exit. Theo watched them out of the side of her eyes.
    The first nonac looked down at her, giggled, and moved on, shaking his head, as he casually put his hand against the low ceiling, saying, "Wow, this is a rough section of road, ain't it? Hold on tight!"
    As if his warning had made it happen, the bus hit a bump, bouncing Theo a little in her seat. The standing nonac slipped, and snatched at the ceiling, his hand covering the Eye mounted there.
    The second . . . paused next to Theo. "Hey, dacky girl."
    Theo turned her head carefully, trying to arrange her face into Father's Look . Judging by the way the nonac's grin widened, she didn't do a very good job.
    "Be careful," he said, and before she understood what he was going to do, he'd put his hand against her shoulder and shoved her against the screen.
    "Stop that!" Theo yelled, but the giggling nonac was already on his way to the opening hatch.
    "Go back inside the Wall!" he called over his shoulder—"where a rough bus ride won't bang you around like that!"
    His buddy smirked, took his hand off the Eye, and the pair of them were gone, down the ramp and into the low-lit night. The hatch rose, and with a whine of electrics the bus got moving again along its extended route.
    Theo looked around her, but she was the last one on the bus. She settled into the corner of her seat, rubbing her shoulder where he'd pushed her. . . . 
    The Quad Eight belt stop was coming up, she realized, her attention suddenly on the reality at hand. She grabbed the bar and swung onto the platform.
    For a moment she stood still, eyes closed while she took a deep breath, like Father had taught her to do. She tried to clear her mind, too, but all her mind wanted to do was try to figure out how mad Kamele was going to be, and what she could say to defend her actions that didn't sound either stupid or antisocial.
    Well, she thought, taking another deep breath; I'll just have to improvise .
    * * *
    "Theo? I'm home!" Kamele's voice slid off the slick walls, coming back to her in a faint echo. There was no other answer to her call.
    "Theo?" Half worried and half irritated, she walked into the dim, untenanted dining alcove. The door to the kitchen was shut tight. Frowning, Kamele opened the door, and touched the kaf's query button. As she had suspected, the last withdrawal on record was breakfast.
    Kamele shook her head, irritation edging over worry. This antipathy to the kaf—obviously, she needed to have a chat with her daughter— now . Kamele spun on her heel and headed for Theo's room at a determined pace.
    The status light showed that the room was occupied, and Kamele's irritation spiked into anger. Sulking in her room, pretending not to hear—she slapped the entry override.
    The door opened, displaying the desk, school book jacked in, but the student nowhere to be seen. A small ball winked red lights at her from beneath the chair. The closet was against the left-hand wall, and a packing cube, too; on the right were two bowls, one filled with water, the other with kibble, and a litter pan. Regardless of the assurance of the status light, the room was empty.
    Or not.
    " Prrhp ?" the orange-and-white cat commented, strutting out from behind the cube. He wove a long, welcoming hug around her ankles before strolling out into the hall.
    "Coyster!" Kamele called, but the cat, predictably, kept to his route. She took a breath, adding smuggled cat to the list of her daughter's transgressions. How long had the girl thought she'd get away