Harsh Lessons (25 page)

Mother leaned forward.  'Those instructions would not apply to facts already on the public record, such as the Institute's reputation for being cursed or haunted.  So you can at least comment on that.'

Leeth forced herself not to rush her answer, looking up, and left, then right, before finally looking back down to Mother.  Since as usual, they had her standing while they went on at her.  She kept her expression innocent, knowing that keeping the secret like she'd been ordered to, would infuriate Mother.  'Um: that's interesting?'

Mother's eyes narrowed.  'I still fail to see how Eagle expects us to properly structure your training with such a paucity of information.  The Doctor's older published research suggests he was hunting the underlying mechanisms for magical Unfolding.  And here you stand, with unusual magical abilities.'

Again, Mother waited.

'Um… yes?'

'You have no comment?'

She shook her head.  'No, Mother.'

Mother leaned forward, and for once, didn’t look cross with her: she looked
open
, maybe even a little excited.  Like if Leeth told her something, she might gain points, or something. Leeth
wanted
to tell her about it
,
just to see that expression a little longer.

But she
couldn’t
.  Her shoulders slumped.  'Eagle said it's all secret.'

Mother glared at her.  'Absurd.  If the Doctor has learned how to unlock magical potential, we should be using that knowledge for key people in the government, military, business and research communities.  It’s precisely the sort of breakthrough that would lead to a quantum jump in US capabilities – which is
precisely
what the Bureau for Internal Development is charged to do!  And you have no comment?'

Leeth grimaced, but shook her head.

'Would you like to know what Eagle's briefing material has to say on the subject of your Unfolding?'

Leeth had the feeling that somehow Mother was laying a trap… but even so, she
did
want to know.  Very much. 
Would it be
something cool? 
She allowed herself a small nod and shrug, trying not to look too interested.

'It says: “While perhaps related to Dr Harmon's research, the circumstances of Leeth's Unfolding are quite unique and unreproducible.”  Would you care to comment on Eagle's own words?'

'Huh.  That's all?'  At Mother's microscopic nod, Leeth mulled it over.  'Well… yeah, I reckon he's probably right.'

Mother waited.  At last, she saw Leeth was going to offer nothing more.  'You do realize, should anyone uncover a connection between you and your “uncle,” the inferences drawn will require a much stronger rebuttal than that.  Yet Eagle's sole protection is to try to keep that connection hidden.  Ridiculous.'

'Shouldn't you be having that argument with Eagle, Mother, not with me?'

'I am, Leeth.  Our disagreement is ongoing.'

Leeth looked at Father, whose expression was carefully neutral.

'But Eagle's a lot smarter than you, Mother.'

At the expression on Mother's face, and the way Father's expression froze, Leeth sensed she'd been misunderstood.  'I mean,
even
smarter than you.'

Strange: Mother seemed still not to get it
.  'I mean, you're the next smartest one here.  Except for Nelson when it comes to computer stuff.  Or Uncle.'

If anything, Mother became even stiller, her eyes just burning into Leeth's own. 
Had that jaw muscle just tightened a notch?
  'For
magic
, I mean.'  She almost added,
duh
.  'Except for Uncle when it comes to
magic,
I meant.  Oh, and Psychology, of course.'

Leeth noticed Father's eyes doing this weird left-right-left flicking thing while he stayed otherwise utterly still.  It reminded her of someone shaking their head…

Father jumped into the silence.  'I think Leeth is merely revealing her complete confidence in Eagle, Mother.'

Mother thinks she's as smart as Eagle?  Wow, I didn't think she was
that
dumb!
No wonder her small gibe had struck so hard.  And it did feel good to get a little payback for the steady stream of put-downs Mother subjected
her
to.

But Mother's eyes now held a strange satisfaction when she finally responded.  'You've been pestering everyone to be allowed to leave these secure premises to do some real world training, yes?  Like hunting "The Breaker"?'

Leeth's eyes lit up, but Mother was shaking her head at that last part.  And this
was
Mother.  So there was sure to be a catch.

'And I think our little interaction just now highlights Leeth's social incompetence and her need to work on those skills.'

Leeth opened her mouth to point out she was very socially competent – then saw the trap, and said nothing.

Mother smiled.  'So to that end, you are being sent on an external live training exercise.  Your “mission” is to learn to fit in seamlessly with other children your own age,' – Leeth clamped her lips tighter shut – 'and your success or failure in this exercise will be determined on the basis of a written analysis, from you, on the group dynamics you will observe, absorb, and participate in; and on your being taken to be nothing more than an ordinary eighteen-year-old girl.  Should you make your peers find you exceptional or abnormal, you will fail this part of your training.  Which you will repeat at six-monthly intervals until you pass.'

Leeth frowned.  She had to appear normal?  A written report on “group dynamics?”  She didn't even know what that
was
!  This had suddenly flipped from sounding like great fun, to maybe-horrible.

'Um, where am I s'posed to learn these “socialization”,' she bunny-eared, 'skills?'

‘The Lindsay Wagner Memorial Drama School, across the Bay in Oakland.  It's a small drama school, well-regarded, for young adults such as yourself.  The students are a mix of children from middle class families for whom it is the best they can afford, and the well-to-do, who have chosen it for its reputation.  You will have three weeks.'

'Ah.  Okay?'

'You'll start on Monday.'

'But… doesn't it take more than three weeks to learn how to act?'

'That's a good attitude to go into this with, Leeth,' Father said.  'And in the future, your ability to pass convincingly in a variety of roles may well be a matter of life and death.  But your main goal in this exercise is simply to learn how to appear to be a girl who has grown up in the usual way: attending school, having dates with boys, attending dances and parties, gossiping with girlfriends and doing whatever else it is that young girls do.'

'But I never did any of those things!  What do I say if they ask me about any of that stuff?'

'That's what you'll be there to learn,' said Mother.  'Perhaps you should watch some contemporary teen movies, to do some homework beforehand?'  Mother finally slid the e-sheet and small package across the desk to her.

It contained just a cashstick – or maybe a credstick.

'Your background is in the reader: study it so you can provide any of that information without hesitation or mistake, when asked.  Your IDs are in the ’stick.'

So it
was
a credstick.  Leeth looked for the lens, aimed that end at herself, found the dimple to activate the projector, and shone the image into her eye.  Then frowned at the picture of herself.  'I don't wear glasses, my eyes aren’t green, and my hair isn't….  Oh.'

'Try to keep up, Leeth.  You may choose some temporary tattoos, too, should you wish.  Your budget will be fifty credits per day.'  Mother narrowed her eyes as she spoke the figure, then waited.

'Um.  Okay?  A budget is how much I can spend, right?  Not how much I have to earn.'

'If you don't know the difference between-'

Father interrupted.  ‘Then it demonstrates that this socialization exercise is very much needed.  You'll be sharing Emma’s city apartment, and commuting to Oakland each day.  That is, Monday to Friday, of course.'

Of course?
thought Leeth.

Father tapped the sheet in front of her, turning it on.  'The necessary information for you regarding Emma's identity is in there.  Get into the habit of referring to her as Aunt Elizabeth for the duration of this training.  Do not do anything to jeopardize Elizabeth Remington's cover identity: Emma has been developing it over the last two years.'

'So I've got like five days to learn all this stuff?'

'That's right.  Which is a luxury.  There may be times in future when you'll be expected to grasp the essentials from such background material in only an hour.'

Leeth considered that.  'If I've got questions, who do I ask?'

'Emma will be working to prepare you,' Mother told her.  'Any further questions?'

'No.'

'Good.  Dismissed.'

She considered saluting, but decided against it.

Chapter 32 

The night before she was to join the drama school, Leeth moved in to Emma's luxury apartment, and was introduced to the security systems.

'I have a surprise for you,' Emma said, and passed her a case about the size of her hand.

Excitedly, Leeth examined it.  It hinged open, revealing… a pair of glasses, with flip-out thumbscreen.

Emma chuckled at her expression, then took them out, unfolded them, and slid them over Leeth's ears, settling them onto her nose.  Which Leeth wrinkled in annoyance.

'Wait, let me explain.  You've learned a lot, but there are years of cultural references you've still to catch up on.  Okay.  So you flip the thumbscreen away to show you're not Linked, right?  Do I need to explain attention etiquette?'

At Leeth's head shake, she continued.  'So, that's your ostensible private screen.  But quite independently of that, the lenses of these glasses provide net access with an AR interface.  They use side projection with total internal reflection: only you as the wearer will see the information.  Just like having your own implanted iLens.

'Picture a blue question mark, and say “Solid Seven”.'

Leeth frowned, but did as asked, then blinked in surprise.  'Huh.  Solid Seven was a boy band popular in the '40s.  Members Joal, Trey, Raze….  Hey, these things are actually cool!'

'I should hope so – I had Nelson make them up for you.  They're cutting edge.'

'Oh.'

'Oh, Leeth, don't be silly.  Nelson's great.  And a genius, too, no matter how he behaves.'

'Mmm.'

'The information projects to a virtual focal distance of the nearest warm body you're facing: so it'll look like your attention is on whoever you might be looking at, not accessing the net.  It's the next best thing to being wired.'

'Wired?'

Emma just smiled.

The next morning at eight a.m, Leeth emerged from the spare bedroom to pose for Emma, one knee thrust forward.  She put her small handbag down on the kitchen benchtop with a suspiciously-heavy clunk.  'How do I look?'

She wore a cheetah-patterned unitard with black faux-leather boots up to her knees.  A bunch of silver bangles adorned her right wrist.  Her credstick was strapped to her left, in a black sheath making it look like the hilt of a slender knife.

She'd put the unitard on backwards, to show her ivory Michele St. Germain push-up bra and its delicate scroll-work of tiny dragons.  A dangling orange crystal drew the eye to her cleavage.

'Well?  Say something, Emma!  Should I change the boots?  I have some strappy black sandals.'

Emma had her hand raised, covering her mouth.  'Leeth… your mission is to blend in; to be taken for a normal girl.  What message do you think your choice of clothing is sending?'

The girl cocked her head to one side, puzzled.  'Well, that I'm fit, and healthy.  And ready for any hot dance parties after class!  I figure I can show the boys I'm ready for sex by doing stuff like this-'  She flipped her hair; looked away, then back, and pulled at her bottom lip with her teeth…

She looked prepared to run through the entire "flirtatious body language" repertoire she'd been taught.  Emma held up one hand.  'Leeth!  Your choice of dress alone will do that!'  She stopped, wanting to grind her teeth in frustration.  Being instructed to teach Leeth how to fit in, while not "narrowing her moral flexibility."  Was that even possible? All week she and Leeth had been having variants of the same argument.  Just getting the girl to wear a swimsuit going to, from and
in
the apartment building's pool had been a major victory.

Well, bugger instructions
, Emma decided.  Surely Mother didn't want Leeth to fail? 
Ah – wait!
 
'Everyone likes a challenge.  You value something more when you struggle to earn it.'

Leeth blinked.  'Are you saying… even the
sheep
like a challenge?'

'What sheep?’  Studying Leeth’s expression, many things became suddenly clear, and Emma's heart sank.  ‘Oh,
Leeth
.  No….'  She felt like punching the Doctor in the face.   How could the girl survive, long term, if she disdained normal people?  Worse, she'd been forbidden to correct that misunderstanding.  'Leeth, you must never… never….'

Leeth waited.  'What?  Never what?  Emma?'  But Emma had shut her eyes.

The agent opened them again, huffing out her breath like she was angry.  'Never let them know you think of them as sheep.  Anyone you said that to would hate you forever.  And they'd also tell all their friends what you'd said.'

Emma watched the girl absorb that.

'So… you're saying I've gotta make them
earn
sex with me?'

Emma winced but nodded.

Leeth frowned.  'How much should I…  But if I charge them money, that'd make me a whore, and that's bad.  So… you mean they've gotta earn sex by doing other jobs for me?'

Emma rolled her eyes.  'Not “jobs,” Leeth.  Don't frame sex as a transaction.  Anything that looks like that, would have the same stigma as a monetary transaction.'

'Um.  Stigma is bad?'