Future Dreams by T.J. Mindancer Page B

speaking soft words of encouragement to them. Jame wandered to the nearby wall, leaned against it, and watched this familiar daily ritual of one of the most celebrated arbiters in several generations.
    “I never knew you had such an interest in the art of watering plants,” Ingel said.
    Jame shrugged. “If it gets me what I want, I’ll learn everything there is to know about the subject.”
    “That’s what I like about you, Jame. Always to the point.” Ingel smiled and checked the soil of a small plant with large floppy leaves. “What makes you think you’ll succeed where the others have failed?”
    “I understand warriors,” Jame said.
    Ingel lifted respectful eyes to Jame. “Unfortunately her antics with the others haven’t improved the perception that she’s still dangerous.”
    “She has a right to select her own arbiter,” Jame said.
    Ingel inspected a bud on a sprawling vine. “She could have chosen a less hostile method of turning down their offers.”
    “She’s just living up to our expectations of her,” Jame said. “If she were really dangerous or violent she would have physically hurt them. From what I’ve gathered, she just turned on the warrior intimidation act a bit.”
    “Are you so sure it’s an act?” Ingel put down her watering pail and pulled off her gloves.
    “If she’s been cleansed, it’s an act,” Jame said. “If she hasn’t been cleansed, then the healers will be in big trouble with the Tribunal. She’s been allowed to walk around here and no one’s seen any hint of aggression from her. Tigh still thinks she’s a warrior. My friends aren’t warriors and they don’t understand how warriors think. I was a warrior in training practically up to the day I first stepped foot inside this school.”
    “I still don’t want to be in the position of explaining this to your aunt, if something happens,” Ingel said.
    “What can happen?” Jame stretched out her hands. “Her antics, as you call them, have forced them to lock her door. All I’ll do is stand outside and ask if she’ll let me present her case. No harm will come of it and maybe, if I get lucky, she’ll let me help her.”
    Ingel sighed and stared out the window at the fortress across the plaza. “Tigh’s on my roster and I’ll eventually have to find an arbiter to argue the case. As long as she’s secure behind a locked door, you should be safe enough.” She turned to Jame. “All right. The case is yours.”
    “Thank you, thank you.” Jame grabbed Ingel’s hand. “And don’t worry, I’ll be careful.”
     

    TIGH LAY ON her cot, listening to every sound. Two sandmarks had passed since the last scared rabbit cowered at her door. Was that all that they had to offer? She wondered how the other Guards could have allowed these spineless youngsters to argue their cases for them.
    Maybe the problem was with her. She blinked at the spidery patterns on the adobe ceiling and couldn’t bring herself to believe she was so different from her former comrades.
    She reached out her hearing at a distant sound. Just the assistant healer shifting in his chair. They may have been spineless lambs but they had made the last two days more interesting for her. Even if her entertainment was at her own expense—a displeased Pendon Larke and a locked door.
    The assistant healer was talking to someone. She concentrated on the noises. It sounded like a young woman this time. The healer seemed to be trying to dissuade her from making this visit. She frowned. All the other arbiters had been let through with little more than a sympathetic well wishing.
    Two sets of footfalls echoed down the corridor instead of the usual one. Now Tigh’s curiosity was afire. She wondered at how starved for diversion she was, to find a minor change in the routine so intriguing. She picked up the sound of something being placed outside her door. Probing the direction with her peripheral vision, she caught a glimpse of a chair. Planning to be here