Fledgling by Steve Miller, Sharon Lee Page A

blue, and a moment after, green, red, violet . . . 
    Kamele nodded. "Now, if we do a branch-search," she tapped the command into the notepad, and watched with satisfaction as the trees formed and connected, closer and closer, until, at base . . . 
    "As you can see," she said, keeping her voice pleasant and calm. "Each of our favored implementations has at root the Antonio Smith Method. That being so, I would suggest that the basic Smith Method, which has not only been proved in rigorous field conditions, but has also birthed so many daughters, is best suited to our purpose."
    There was some discussion of the suggestion, of course, though briefer than it might otherwise have been. She injected the possibility—nay, the probability!—that the search and approach they had agreed upon might eventually be adopted as an official protocol for the university entire, and with the calculating looks brought into some eyes and faces came a certain willingness to move at long last from talk, to action. When the chair finally adjourned the meeting, the responsibility for contacting the Oversight Committee rested satisfactorily in the hands of Ella ben Suzan.
     
    "I think you handled that very well," Ella said as the door to Kamele's office closed behind them. She stretched with vigor before collapsing dramatically into the visitor's chair, her head against the back and her eyes half-closed. "And you were afraid you'd lost your touch."
    "I have lost my touch," Kamele said, casting a half-amused glance at her friend. "Honestly, Ella, you should have become a professional actor."
    "And been disowned? No thank you. I like my comfort—now as much as then. Besides, hadn't my best friend already set aside childish pursuits to aim for a more realistic goal?"
    Kamele sat down behind her desk and tapped her mumu on without looking at it. "With my mother's . . . strong encouragement."
    "Mothers exist to guide their daughters," Ella murmured. "I'm quite content with the amateur troupe." She opened her eyes and squirmed into a more upright position.
    "But enough of youthful reminisces! This evening you not only manipulated our honored colleagues of the EdHist Department into consensus, but you got Hafley into a corner, so that she had to back you or risk an open divide within the department, which she can ill afford. All of that, and you still insist that you've lost your touch?"
    Kamele sighed and leaned back in her chair. "I was clumsy," she said. "If I didn't push them, I certainly drove them, and you're not the only one who saw the manipulation. Depend on it—Hafley saw what I was doing, and she'll find a way to make me rue it. Having me shoved in as sub-chair over her candidate—"
    "And wouldn't Jon Fu have made a wonderful sub-chair?" Ella interrupted. " Yes, Chair. Of course, Chair!" Her voice had gone all wobbly and unctuous. "The wisdom of a thousand grandmothers could not teach us better than you do, Chair."
    "Stop!" Kamele laughed. She raised a hand. "Stop—it's too perfect! His own mother would be deceived."
    "Or she would pretend to be, so she could be rid of a bad job," Ella said darkly, then waved. "Hafley's light was fading even before Flandin's perfidy was discovered. The Directors won't be long in replacing her," she said, and grinned one of her wide, lunatic grins. " Kamele Waitley, EdHist Chair. "
    Kamele snorted. "Not likely."
    "Nothing more likely, now that you're finally demonstrating the proper reverence for your career!" her friend retorted. "You'll see—and I expect my sabbatical to be quickly approved when you're made chair."
    Kamele considered her. "Sabbatical? Isn't that out of sequence? In any case, it's my plan to name you sub-chair if your prescience is proven."
    Ella shook her head in mock sorrow. "How many times do I have to tell you, love: First the sugar, then the rod."
    "Yet you find hard work sweet."
    "You know me too well," Ella said with a fond smile that slowly faded. "Speaking of hard