who were applying for grants. Lists of people who had gotten their grants. Lists of people going on sabbatical. Lists of people coming back from sabbatical. Changes of address.
Kamele said that once, in the long ago past, The Faq really had only been published once a quarter, but the level of news generated by such a large faculty and administration forced a more frequent publication schedule. She read it, and Father, too, though Theo thought they had different reading experiences. For instance, Kamele called it The Faq or, sometimes, The News .
Father called it The Scandal Sheet .
"I skim it sometimes," Theo said, and made a face. "Bor-ing."
Lesset sighed and shook her head. "Information is never boring," she said in a prim voice that made her sound exactly like her mother.
"Long lists of names are boring," Theo answered, then prodded. "You were going to tell me who her is."
"Well . . ." Lesset chewed her lip. "Professor Flandin—the sub-chair of the History of Ed—"
"Lesset, I know who Professor Flandin is! Kamele's in EdHist!"
"All right, don't roar at me! How'm I supposed to know what you know?"
"I'm sorry," Theo said, noticing that her shoulders had climbed up nearly to her ears. She relaxed them, deliberately, and looked at her friend. "So you think we're in Professor Flandin's apartment? Why? She go Topthree?"
"Topthree!" Lesset laughed and patted Theo's arm. "You really don't read The Faq , do you? Professor Flandin didn't get promoted. She got disbarred ."
Having delivered this last in a penetrating whisper, Lesset folded her hands on her knee, and gave a single, solemn nod.
"Disbarred?" Theo frowned. Now she came to think about it, she'd heard some thing . . .
"Falsifying data," she said, suddenly remembering. She looked at Lesset. "She falsified cites in her last two pubs."
Lesset smiled. "You do pay attention sometimes! So, anyway, if Professor Waitley's been assigned—Quadeight's only two ramps down from Topthree!—been assigned to Professor Flandin's apartment, that must mean the dean approved her temp-posting to sub-head. That wasn't in The Faq yet!"
"Maybe they're waiting to make the announcement at the Faculty Meeting," Theo said, but she was thinking about Kamele—Temp Sub-Head!—and she hadn't said anything—not a word. That felt pretty bad, like Kamele didn't trust her. But, Theo thought, her spirits rising considerably, if the temp appointment was the reason Kamele had moved to the Wall, then that meant they could go home after the search was finished and the department had appointed someone permanent!
The knot in her stomach eased, and she looked up with a smile as the first whistle sounded.
"Time to go," Lesset said, as she and Theo rose and shouldered their packs.
Roni rushed over from Team Two's table, grabbed her pack, and marched off, calling, "Don't be late!" over her shoulder.
Kartor rose automatically, his attention still on his mumu.
Lesset sighed, her steps not as brisk as they might've been. "Professor Appletorn first thing is cruel and unusual."
"He's not so bad."
"He's not so bad to you, " Lesset retorted. "He doesn't loathe you ."
"He doesn't loathe you, either," Theo said reasonably. "He's a teacher. His job is to make sure you learn."
"I'm so tense in his class I don't think I'm learning any thing," her friend said, as they moved out of the Ready Room. She shuddered.
That was serious, if true. Theo had noticed that Lesset wasn't at her best in Professor Appletorn's class, but if she was letting her tension get in the way of performance, that was bad. Theo sighed, worried.
Professor Appletorn taught Advertency, which was core. If Lesset didn't pass, she'd not only pull the Team average down, she'd have to repeat Fourth Form, and clear a higher achievement bar, to cancel out the note in her file.
She looked around, suddenly worried on another head—and spied Estan and Anj, the last two members of the Team, rushing toward them from the pass corridor
Kamele said that once, in the long ago past, The Faq really had only been published once a quarter, but the level of news generated by such a large faculty and administration forced a more frequent publication schedule. She read it, and Father, too, though Theo thought they had different reading experiences. For instance, Kamele called it The Faq or, sometimes, The News .
Father called it The Scandal Sheet .
"I skim it sometimes," Theo said, and made a face. "Bor-ing."
Lesset sighed and shook her head. "Information is never boring," she said in a prim voice that made her sound exactly like her mother.
"Long lists of names are boring," Theo answered, then prodded. "You were going to tell me who her is."
"Well . . ." Lesset chewed her lip. "Professor Flandin—the sub-chair of the History of Ed—"
"Lesset, I know who Professor Flandin is! Kamele's in EdHist!"
"All right, don't roar at me! How'm I supposed to know what you know?"
"I'm sorry," Theo said, noticing that her shoulders had climbed up nearly to her ears. She relaxed them, deliberately, and looked at her friend. "So you think we're in Professor Flandin's apartment? Why? She go Topthree?"
"Topthree!" Lesset laughed and patted Theo's arm. "You really don't read The Faq , do you? Professor Flandin didn't get promoted. She got disbarred ."
Having delivered this last in a penetrating whisper, Lesset folded her hands on her knee, and gave a single, solemn nod.
"Disbarred?" Theo frowned. Now she came to think about it, she'd heard some thing . . .
"Falsifying data," she said, suddenly remembering. She looked at Lesset. "She falsified cites in her last two pubs."
Lesset smiled. "You do pay attention sometimes! So, anyway, if Professor Waitley's been assigned—Quadeight's only two ramps down from Topthree!—been assigned to Professor Flandin's apartment, that must mean the dean approved her temp-posting to sub-head. That wasn't in The Faq yet!"
"Maybe they're waiting to make the announcement at the Faculty Meeting," Theo said, but she was thinking about Kamele—Temp Sub-Head!—and she hadn't said anything—not a word. That felt pretty bad, like Kamele didn't trust her. But, Theo thought, her spirits rising considerably, if the temp appointment was the reason Kamele had moved to the Wall, then that meant they could go home after the search was finished and the department had appointed someone permanent!
The knot in her stomach eased, and she looked up with a smile as the first whistle sounded.
"Time to go," Lesset said, as she and Theo rose and shouldered their packs.
Roni rushed over from Team Two's table, grabbed her pack, and marched off, calling, "Don't be late!" over her shoulder.
Kartor rose automatically, his attention still on his mumu.
Lesset sighed, her steps not as brisk as they might've been. "Professor Appletorn first thing is cruel and unusual."
"He's not so bad."
"He's not so bad to you, " Lesset retorted. "He doesn't loathe you ."
"He doesn't loathe you, either," Theo said reasonably. "He's a teacher. His job is to make sure you learn."
"I'm so tense in his class I don't think I'm learning any thing," her friend said, as they moved out of the Ready Room. She shuddered.
That was serious, if true. Theo had noticed that Lesset wasn't at her best in Professor Appletorn's class, but if she was letting her tension get in the way of performance, that was bad. Theo sighed, worried.
Professor Appletorn taught Advertency, which was core. If Lesset didn't pass, she'd not only pull the Team average down, she'd have to repeat Fourth Form, and clear a higher achievement bar, to cancel out the note in her file.
She looked around, suddenly worried on another head—and spied Estan and Anj, the last two members of the Team, rushing toward them from the pass corridor
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