Saltation by Steve Miller, Sharon Lee

seven to zero any longer, but blinking its way up from 4:45, in half-second increments.
    "Nothing to say, Theo Waitley? You frowned when I mentioned your feat."
    The timer flipped over from four minutes to five. Theo looked up into the lined, quizzical face and nodded once, for emphasis.
    "Everyone mentions it, ma'am," she said, as calmly as she could. "All I did was what Ground told me was needed. But I survived and it makes some people think I was showing off. I didn't do it to show off. I don't like people to say so. I guess I'm still surprised that so many people think about it at all."
    The pastry, much diminished, moved back and forth for several precious seconds. Veradantha's thin lips compressed into what might have been a hard smile.
    "Yes, I can see that. I also can see why the Senior thought the landing worth my attention. So, Theo Waitley, do you enjoy your flying in the Slippers? I will admit that I do, though I cannot find time and energy together to take as many flights as I might."
    "Yes." Theo nodded, feeling wistful. "I do like the Slippers. But now they've moved me into power group training so I can't get time."
    "The universe is like that, Theo Waitley. When you are good at something, often you must give it up for something you are not so good at yet. This is inconvenient, but true."
    The hand was now free of the disappeared pastry, but fascinating still, adorned as it was with several glittering rings and wrinkles so fine they looked like down.
    "So you like the Slipper, and you like powered flight as well. Would you be satisfied to be an air pilot, do you think?"
    The question took a moment to penetrate, and when it did, it took her breath.
    On the desk, the chronometer hit seven, blinked once, and began counting down again.
    "Air pilot?"
    Theo heard the quaver in her voice, and winced. True, she was proud to wear the wings that Win Ton had sent her, once she'd confirmed as a rated soaring pilot. Her marks with powered craft were top-notch, too, but to stop there . . . 
    "Do not be kittenish on my time, Theo Waitley!"
    The woman plunked the cup down on her desk, and swept fully in front of Theo, using her height and posture to loom better than anyone had ever loomed over her, including Father.
    "You must understand that worlds need air pilots; in fact, in many places air pilots who fly to orbit and back are what citizens think pilots are. It is worthy work!"
    Theo felt heat on her face and tried to keep it out of her voice; her stomach felt as if she'd been in a mountainside downdraft. It didn't help that she was looking up—how could someone so skinny be so formidable?
    Taking a deep breath, she replied, slowly: "Yes, air pilots do worthy work. I want to know how to fly—that's useful. It's fun. It's more than fun. But, I'm here to learn to be a spaceship pilot. I don't want the sky to be my roof!"
    She took another breath, suddenly struck by a terrible thought. She looked carefully at the counselor's face and asked, quietly, "Is my math that bad?"
    "Piffpuff, Theo Waitley, I have not accused you of being incompetent. I asked if you would be satisfied with the title of air pilot."
    The flip of hand and the huff were unnerving, but Theo resisted the urge to stand.
    Veradantha tugged a bright blue notetaker or comm from her belt, her frail-looking hands flowing over the keys. She glanced at the chronometer, murmuring something that sounded like " what time?"
    Theo itched to see what was on that screen but the woman cradled it and walked away from her, peering out the window overlooking the campus airfield and back at the screen, inputting something, glancing outside again. The timer was flashing now and—
    "Well, Theo Waitley," Veradanth said. "I am clear that you are not dumb. I am also clear that you are inconvenient. Worse, you are inconvenient in a way that is inconvenient not only to me—I have the habit of being inconvenienced!—but to you, and to the school itself."
    Veradantha stood before