Partnership by Anne McCaffrey, Margaret Ball Read Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Anne McCaffrey, Margaret Ball
scholarship.
It was three weeks before my tutor found me." The momentary, unguarded joy in his face as he remembered those weeks wrenched at Nancia's heart. "The second and third times they knew where I'd go; there was a squad of House Medoc private guards waiting for me at the Academy."
"Your family seems to have been rather violently against die idea."
Blaize's mobile, ugly face twisted into a sneer.
"Wouldn't do for folks in our position, y'know. Not quite the thing. My cousin Jillia is in line to be the next Planetary Governor of Kaza-uri, and my buddy Henequin — m'father's best friend's son," Blaize explained parenthetically, "is already in charge of the Vega branch of Planetary Technical Aid. A son who's in brawn training doesn't quite match up with those stel-lar accomplishments for after-dinner bragging."
"I wonder if my family feels that way," Nancia said.
Was that why Daddy hadn't made time for her graduation?
"Shouldn't think so. They sent you to Laboratory Schools, didn't they?"
"They didn't," Nancia said, "have many options. I would not have survived a normal birth.**
PARTNERSHIP 39
"Oh. Well. Anyway," Blaize said carefully, "I don't think your branch of the family is quite as snobbish as ours- And neither one can beat the de Gras-Waldheims for exclusiveness. Polly got to go to the Academy, but he was supposed to turn into a general, not a lowly space jockey; I can't imagine what he's doing on his way to administer a metachip plant on Shemali. Must have been some scandal at the Academy. I thought I knew all the family gossip, but whatever he got into, they hushed it up exceedingly well. You probably have access to the files, though — or — anyway, I bet you could find out if you wanted to."
"I imagine," Nancia said, "they are in need of his technical expertise." She felt no impulse whatever to share the details of Polyon's Academy problems with this gossipy boy. Didn't the High Families train their softperson children in any kind of discretion? First Polyon, using his computer expertise to hack through security checks and find out the other passengers'
secrets, and now Blaize, turning his charm on her to the same end.
"You don't approve of gossip, do you?" Blaize guessed. "All right. Have it your way. You will be a suitably discreet Courier Service brainship and a credit to the family, and I'll be a nice little PTA administrator on Angalia and try not to disgrace my side of the family, and we can all drift on in boredom forever."
"Planetary Technical Aid isn't so bad," Nancia told him. "My sister Jinevra is an area administrator, and she's only twenty-nine. You could rise rapidly — "
"Fromy4ftgtt&a?" Blaize's eyebrows shot up like red exclamation marks, giving his face a look of comical astonishment. "Dear Cousin Nancia, you really don't pry, do you? If you'd read my file you would know better than to try and stir up my ambitions for Angalia.
The sum total of civilization there consists of one PTA 40
Anne McCaffrey fcf Margaret Ball
PARTNERSHIP
41
office, one coryrium mine, and a bunch of humanoid natives with the collective IQ of a zucchini. Asmall zucchini. It's amazing they even qualify for Planetary Aid; somebody must have filled out the FCF wrong, and whoever later determined that they didn't have ISS
forgot to correct the PTA data. The wheels of the bureaucracy grind on and on.... So here I go to Angalia, less than the dust beneath old Henequin's chariot wheels."
"You should do well enough," Nancia said. "You've certainly got the jargon of the bureaucracy down pat"
She scanned her data files for translations of the initials Blaize had used. PTA was Planetary Technical Aid, of course, and FCF turned out to be a First Contact Form, and ISS — ah. Intelligent Sentient Status. Nancia had learned all the regulations for dealing with alien sentients in Basic Courier Diplomacy and Development 101, but she wasn't used to hearing the abbreviations tossed about so
It was three weeks before my tutor found me." The momentary, unguarded joy in his face as he remembered those weeks wrenched at Nancia's heart. "The second and third times they knew where I'd go; there was a squad of House Medoc private guards waiting for me at the Academy."
"Your family seems to have been rather violently against die idea."
Blaize's mobile, ugly face twisted into a sneer.
"Wouldn't do for folks in our position, y'know. Not quite the thing. My cousin Jillia is in line to be the next Planetary Governor of Kaza-uri, and my buddy Henequin — m'father's best friend's son," Blaize explained parenthetically, "is already in charge of the Vega branch of Planetary Technical Aid. A son who's in brawn training doesn't quite match up with those stel-lar accomplishments for after-dinner bragging."
"I wonder if my family feels that way," Nancia said.
Was that why Daddy hadn't made time for her graduation?
"Shouldn't think so. They sent you to Laboratory Schools, didn't they?"
"They didn't," Nancia said, "have many options. I would not have survived a normal birth.**
PARTNERSHIP 39
"Oh. Well. Anyway," Blaize said carefully, "I don't think your branch of the family is quite as snobbish as ours- And neither one can beat the de Gras-Waldheims for exclusiveness. Polly got to go to the Academy, but he was supposed to turn into a general, not a lowly space jockey; I can't imagine what he's doing on his way to administer a metachip plant on Shemali. Must have been some scandal at the Academy. I thought I knew all the family gossip, but whatever he got into, they hushed it up exceedingly well. You probably have access to the files, though — or — anyway, I bet you could find out if you wanted to."
"I imagine," Nancia said, "they are in need of his technical expertise." She felt no impulse whatever to share the details of Polyon's Academy problems with this gossipy boy. Didn't the High Families train their softperson children in any kind of discretion? First Polyon, using his computer expertise to hack through security checks and find out the other passengers'
secrets, and now Blaize, turning his charm on her to the same end.
"You don't approve of gossip, do you?" Blaize guessed. "All right. Have it your way. You will be a suitably discreet Courier Service brainship and a credit to the family, and I'll be a nice little PTA administrator on Angalia and try not to disgrace my side of the family, and we can all drift on in boredom forever."
"Planetary Technical Aid isn't so bad," Nancia told him. "My sister Jinevra is an area administrator, and she's only twenty-nine. You could rise rapidly — "
"Fromy4ftgtt&a?" Blaize's eyebrows shot up like red exclamation marks, giving his face a look of comical astonishment. "Dear Cousin Nancia, you really don't pry, do you? If you'd read my file you would know better than to try and stir up my ambitions for Angalia.
The sum total of civilization there consists of one PTA 40
Anne McCaffrey fcf Margaret Ball
PARTNERSHIP
41
office, one coryrium mine, and a bunch of humanoid natives with the collective IQ of a zucchini. Asmall zucchini. It's amazing they even qualify for Planetary Aid; somebody must have filled out the FCF wrong, and whoever later determined that they didn't have ISS
forgot to correct the PTA data. The wheels of the bureaucracy grind on and on.... So here I go to Angalia, less than the dust beneath old Henequin's chariot wheels."
"You should do well enough," Nancia said. "You've certainly got the jargon of the bureaucracy down pat"
She scanned her data files for translations of the initials Blaize had used. PTA was Planetary Technical Aid, of course, and FCF turned out to be a First Contact Form, and ISS — ah. Intelligent Sentient Status. Nancia had learned all the regulations for dealing with alien sentients in Basic Courier Diplomacy and Development 101, but she wasn't used to hearing the abbreviations tossed about so
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