Fledgling Read Free

warm, flowery breeze only he could coax from the ambiset, but whatever it was, all the bright, strained energy melted away and Kamele would fall asleep, and wake up her normal brisk and efficient self.
    Theo wondered if there was any wine in the apartment—and then forgot about it as the door slid back to reveal her so-called "room."
    The desk was directly across from the door, molded out of the wall, three short shelves above it, and two drawers below. Next to it was the bed, decently folded up at the moment, which was a good thing, Theo thought darkly, or else she wouldn't have fit inside, never mind her stuff.
    She left the closet in the open doorway and gingerly maneuvered the cube into the corner to the right of the door, where it would be out of the way, more or less, dumped her pack on the floor beside it, took off her shoes, and threw her sweater over the back of the chair. Then she turned to survey the situation.
    On inspection, there was only one possible place for the closet—the end wall to the left of the desk. Biting her lip, she shifted the folded-up closet back and forth between the narrow hall and the narrow doorway, trying to line up the the angle of entry.
    Finally, she got the thing into the room and positioned it against the wall with a sigh of relief. She blew her bangs out of her eyes with a fuff , reached to the controls—and hesitated, reassessing the available space by eye.
    Yes, she decided, again. The closet would fit.
    Just.
    While the closet expanded, she inventoried the desk, approving the neatly labeled connectors. She could hook up her school book, no problem; there was a socket for her mumu, and an extra, labeled "research."
    Theo frowned. At home, she'd done all her research through the school book connection. She wondered if there were different protocols inside the Wall residences. A quick search of the desk drawers failed to turn up either hard-copy instructions or an official gold infoslip. Fine, then. She'd just ask the Concierge, the next time she jacked in her school book.
    She turned to look at her pack, sitting slumped on the slick white floor next to the still-sealed cube, and frowned. Her solos were done; she'd made sure to finish them early, so she'd have time to pack, or—if Father had taken her side, which, in retrospect, she should've known he wouldn't—time to cook dinner and do a little recreational reading afterward.
    "I'll get it tomorrow," she said to the room at large. "If it was that important, they would've left the instructions out where people could find them."
    From the left came a bump, a wheeze, and a ping! , which was the closet's way of announcing that it was accessible, now. Theo went over to inspect, shaking her head. It fit, all right. Both ends were as tight against the corners as they could be.
    "If I get another sweater, I'll have to keep it in the desk," she said, and bit her lip. She was used to talking to whichever cat happened to be in her room—lately, that had been Coyster, though Mandrin, Father's white-and-black, sometimes came by for a visit. Here in this new place, though, she was all by herself. She had to remember that. Chaos! Her mentor already thought it was weird that she talked to cats.
    "Grow up, Theo," she muttered—and brought her fingers up against her lips.
    Fingers still pressed to her mouth, she turned, skidding slightly on the slick floor, and wished she'd had the foresight to bring a rug. Maybe she could buy one at the co-op tomorrow. She had plenty of credit on her card; and if she could find one cheap enough, she wouldn't even have to have her mother's countersig. Now that she was fourteen, she could spend up to fifty credits a day on her own sig, much better than when she'd been a kid and had to have Kamele's sign every time she wanted to buy a fruit bar, or—
    A gong went off, loudly. Theo jumped and spun, sock-feet slipping on the slick floor. She twisted, managing to stay upright more by luck than intent, and by the