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Authors: Anne McCaffrey

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BOOK: Get Off the Unicorn
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“Well, Nick's not the son Father wanted. Mother—” and suddenly the answer was the most important thing in Nora's life. “—Mother, am I the daughter
you
wanted?”

The laughter died abruptly and Mother placed her square hands on either side of Nora's face.

“You're a good child, Nora. You never complain. You work hard and willingly. Yes, you're a good daughter.”

But that wasn't the answer Nora wanted.

“But what do
you
want me to
be
?”

“Happy, Nora. I want you to be happy.” Mary Fenn turned, then, to glance around the kitchen area, checking to see if all was in order. It was a dismissal, a tacit gesture not to pursue this subject further. Her mother often did that. Particularly with Father. She didn't actually evade a question, simply didn't answer it directly or fully.

“Mother, that isn't enough of an answer anymore.”

Her mother turned back to her, her eyebrows raised in a polite question that turned to a frown when she'd studied her daughter's stern face.

“I only wanted a daughter, Nora, not a child in my own image, to follow in my path. Just a girl child to raise, to love, to delight in. A woman is proud to bear her son, but she rejoices in her daughter. You've given me much secret joy, Nora. I'm proud of you for many, silly little motherly reasons you'll understand when you have your own daughter. Beyond that . . .” Mother began to move away. “I believe that everyone must be allowed to determine his own life's course. In that respect I am completely modern. Do
you
dislike farm life as much as your brother, Nora?”

“No,” but Nora realized as she said it that she was no longer sure. “It's not that I dislike it, Mother, it's just that I'd prefer to do something more . . .”

“More cerebral, less manual?” her mother asked teasingly.

Nora could feel the blush mounting in her cheeks. She didn't want Mother to think she felt farming wasn't a substantial contribution.

“Well,” and her mother's voice was brisk again, “the Advancements will soon be posted. They'll decide the matter once and for all. In the meantime—”

“I'll be a good daughter.”

“I know I can count on you,” and there was a sudden worded edge to her mother's voice. “Now go. You've studying, I know. You want to achieve a good credit bonus at graduation.”

Nora let her mother's gentle shove propel her toward the ramp up to the bedroom level. But she was far too disquieted to study. Her mother had never been so forthright, and yet Nora did not feel the reassurance which ought to have resulted from such frankness.

There'd been many nuances in the conversation, emotional undertones which her mother had never permitted her daughter to hear before. And so many shifts. Almost as if Mother had really been sounding her out. On what? Useless to examine emotions: they were too subjective. They weren't computable data.

Nora tapped out a request for a mathematics review, senior level, on her home-study console. She was still staring at the first problem, when the computer pinged warningly and then chattered out the answer. Nora turned off the console and sat staring at the printout.

Was she really the daughter Mary Fenn had wanted? How would she ever know? She was certainly not the second son her father had intended to sire, though she had all the capabilities he'd wanted. If Nick wouldn't crop farm the Fenn Complex, how were they going to get Father to accept a compromise? Maybe Mother wanted her to prove to Father that she knew more about crop farming than Nick right now? No, George Fenn wanted his
son
to follow him at Fenn Complex. If not Nick, then some man, because George Fenn's atavistic temperament required him to pass land to a man, not a woman, even of his own genetic heritage.

This year's apprentices would be assigned here soon, fresh from their courses in Applied Agriculture at the Institute. Maybe she'd like one of them, pair off with him, and then the Fenn land would at least remain in partially Fenn hands for another generation. Was this what Mother had been hinting at when she mentioned Nora's rating in IPR?

No, the trick would be to get Father to agree to diversify. That way Nick, who was just as stubborn as his father, could follow his heart's desire and society would benefit all around. But, when Mother brought that notion up at mealtime, Father had rushed out of the house as if his circuits had jammed.

Nora looked disconsolately down at the console. Within the parameters of the programming, computers reacted to taped instructions, facts that could be ineradicably stored as minute bits in their memories. Only humans put no parameters on dreams and stored aspirations.

The sound of a vehicle braking to a stop broke into her thoughts. Nick had come back!

The angle of the house was such that Nora could only see the blunt anonymous end of a triwheel from her window. Nick had her skimmer. But—Nora grasped at the notion—Nick had gone to the Everetts. Maybe Landsman Everett was bringing him back. Father openly admired the breeder, said he was a sound husbandsman and made a real contribution to society.

Nora sat very still, straining to hear Nick's voice or Landsman Everett's cheerful tenor. She heard only the subdued murmur of her mother's greeting, and then Father's curt baritone. When she caught the second deep male rumble, she ceased listening and turned back to the console. She did have exams to pass, and eavesdropping did not add to family unity.

Nora usually enjoyed computer-assisted drill. It put one on the mental alert. She enjoyed the challenge of completing the drill well within the allotted time. So, despite her concerns, she was soon caught up in her studies. She finished the final level of review with only one equation wrong. Her own fault. She'd skipped a step in her hurry to beat the computer's time. She could never understand why some kids said they they were exhausted after a computer-assisted session. She always felt great.

“Nora!”

Her father's summons startled her. Had she missed his first call? He sounded angry. You never made Father call you twice.

“Coming!” Anxious not to irritate him, she ran down the ramp to the lower level, apologizing all the way. “Sorry, Father, I was concentrating on CAI review . . .” and then she saw that the visitor was Counselor Fremmeng. She muttered a nervous good-evening. This was the time of year for Parent Consultations, and deficiencies were usually scheduled first. She couldn't have made that poor a showing . . . A glance at her father's livid face told her that this interview was not going the way George Fenn wanted it.

“Counselor Fremmeng has informed me that
you
have achieved sufficient distinction in your schooling to warrant Academic Advancement.”

The savage way her father spat the words out and the disappointment on his face dried up any thought Nora had of exulting in her achievement. Hurt and bewildered, unaccountably rebuked in yet another effort to win his approval, Nora stared back at him. Even if she was a girl, surely he didn't hate her for getting Academic . . . In a sudden change of state, she realized why.

“Then Nick didn't?”

Her father turned from her coldly so that Counselor Fremmeng had to confirm it. His eyes were almost sad in his long, jowled face. Didn't
he
take pride in her achievement? Didn't anyone? Crushed with disappointment, Nora pivoted slowly. When she met her mother's eyes, she saw in them something greater than mere approval. Something more like anticipation, entreaty.

“Your brother,” Father went on with such scathing bitterness that Nora shuddered, “has been
tentatively
allowed two years of Applied Advancement. The wisdom of society has limited this to the Agricultural Institute with the recommendation that he study
animal husbandry
.” He turned back to face his daughter, eyes burning, huge frame rigid with emotion.

Serves him right, Nora thought, and quickly squelched such disrespect. He had been too certain that Nick would qualify for the university and become a Computer Master for the Fenn Complex. He'll just have to adjust. A Fenn is going on. Me.

“How . . .” and suddenly George Fenn erupted, seeking relief from his disappointment with violent pacing and exaggerated gestures of his big hands, “how can a girl qualify when her brother, of the same parentage, raised in the same environment, given the same education at the same institution, receives only a tentative acceptance? Tentative! Why, Nicholas has twice the brains his sister has!”

“Not demonstrably, Landsman,” Counselor Fremmeng remarked, flicking a cryptic glance at Nora. “And certainly not the same intense application. Nick showed the most interest and diligence in biology and ecology. His term paper, an optional project on the mutation of angoran ovines, demonstrated an in-depth appreciation of genetic manipulation. Society encourages such—”

“But sheep!” Father interrupted him. “Fenns are crop farmers.”

“A little diversity improves any operation,” Counselor Fremmeng said with such uncharacteristic speciousness that Nora stared at him.

“My son may study sheep. Well then, what area of concentration has been opened to my . . . my daughter?”

Nora swallowed hard, wishing so much that Father would not look at her as if she'd been printed out by mistake. Then she realized that the counselor was looking at
her
to answer her father.

“I'd prefer to—”

“What area is she qualified to pursue?” Father cut her off peremptorily, again directing his question to the counselor.

The man cleared his throat as he flipped open his wrist recorder and made an adjustment. He studied the frame for a long moment. It gave Nora a chance to sort out her own thoughts. She really hadn't believed Nick this afternoon when he intimated he'd thwarted Father's plans. And she'd certainly never expected Academic!

The Counselor tapped the aide of the recorder thoughtfully, pursing his lips as he'd a habit of doing when he was trying to phrase a motivating reprimand to an underachiever.

“Nora is unusually astute in mathematics and symbolic logic . . .” The Counselor's eyes slid across her face, again that oblique warning. “She has shown some marked skill in Computer Design, but in order to achieve Computer Technician . . .”

“Computer Tech— Could she actually make Technician status?” Father demanded sharply, and Nora could sense the change in him.

Counselor Fremmeng coughed suddenly, covering his mouth politely. When he looked up again, Nora could almost swear he'd been covering a laugh, not a cough. His little eyes were very bright. None of the other kids believed her when she said that the Counselor was actually human, with a sense of humor. Of course, a man in his position had to maintain dignity in front of the student body.

“I believe that is quite within her capability, Landsman,” Counselor Fremmeng said in a rather strained voice.

“Didn't you say, Counselor, that Nora qualified for unlimited Academic Advancement?” Mother asked quietly. She held Nora's eyes steadily for a moment before she turned with a little smile to her husband. “So, a Fenn
is
going on to university this generation, just as you'd hoped, George. Now, if you could see your way clear to diversify— And did you notice the premium angora fleece is bringing? You know how I've wanted young things to tend and lambs are so endearing. Why, I might even get Counselor Fremmeng to recommend updating for me at the Institute. Then, George, you wouldn't need to spend all those credits for apprentices. The Fenns could work the Complex all by themselves. Just like the old days!”

“It's an encouraging thing for me to have such a contributing family unit in my Sector. A real pleasure,” Counselor said, smiling at the older Fenns before he gave Nora a barely perceptible nod.

“Well, girl, so you'll study Computology at the university?” asked Father. His joviality was a little forced, and his eyes were still cold.

“I ought to take courses in Stability Phenomena, Feedback Control, more Disturbance Dynamics . . .”

“Listen to the child. You'd never think such terms would come so easily to a girl's lips, would you?” asked Father.

“Mathematics is scarcely a male prerogative, Landsman,” said Counselor Fremmeng, rising. “It's the major tool of our present sane social structure. That and social dynamics. Nora's distinguished herself in social psychology, which is, as you know, the prerequisite for building the solid familial relationships which constitute the foundation of our society.”

“Oh, she'll be a good mother in her time,” Father said, still with that horrible edge to his heartiness. His glance lingered on his wife.

“Undoubtedly,” the Counselor agreed blandly. “However, there's more to maintaining a sound family structure than maternity. As Nora has demonstrated. If you'll come to my office after your exams on Thursday, Nora, we'll discuss your program at the university in depth, according to your potentials.” His slight emphasis on the pronoun went unnoticed by George Fenn. Then the Counselor bowed formally to her parents, congratulated them again on the achievements of their children, their contribution to society, and left.

“So, girl,” her father said in a heavy tone, “
you'll
be the crop farmer in this generation.”

Nora faced him, unable to perjure herself. With his pitiful honking about farming Fenns, he was like a goose, fattening for his own destruction. She felt pity for him because he couldn't see beyond his perch on these acres. But he was doing what he'd been set in this life to do, as the geese were making their contribution to society, too.

Unlimited Academic Advancement! She'd never anticipated that. But she could see that it was in great measure due to her father. Because he had considered her inferior to Nick, she'd worked doubly hard, trying to win his approval. She realized now that she'd never have it, Father being what he was. And being the person she was, she'd not leave him in discord. She'd help maintain family unity until Father came to accept Nick as a sheep-breeder, diversification on the Fenn acres, a Fenn daughter in the university. Mother would step in to help with crop farming and there'd be no decrease in contribution.

BOOK: Get Off the Unicorn
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