But one of the toys she'd had, her very favorite, in fact, had been a stuffed teddy bear. She'd made up adventures for Ivan the Bearable, sending him in a troika across the windswept steppes of Novi Gagarin, and she'd told Tia some of those stories. That, and the Zen of Pooh book Moira brought her, had solidified a longing she hadn't anticipated.
For Tia had been entranced by the tales and by Pooh, and had wanted a bear like Moira's. A simple toy that did nothing, with no intel-chips; a toy that couldn't talk, or teach, or walk. Something that was just there to be hugged and cuddled; something to listen when she didn't want anything else to overhear.
Moira had promised. Moira didn't forget
Tia closed the door to her room and paged the AI. "Socrates, would you open a link to Moira in here for me, please?" she asked. Moira would be perfectly capable of following the conversation in the other room and still talk to her in here, too.
"Tia, do you really like your present?" Moira asked anxiously, as soon as the link had been established.
"He's wonderful," Tia answered firmly. "I've even got a name for him. Theodore Edward Bear."
"Or Ted E. Bear for short?" Moira chuckled. "I like it. It fits him. He's such a solemn-faced little fellow. One would think he was a software executive. He looks like a bear with a great deal on his mind."
Tia studied Ted carefully. Moira was right; he was a sober little bear, with a very studious expression, as if he was listening very hard to whatever was being said. His bright blue coloration in no way contradicted the seriousness of his face, nor did the frivolous little red shirt he was wearing with the blue and yellow Courier Service circle-and-lightning-bolt on the front
"Is there anything going on that I need to know, Moira?" she asked, giving over her careful examination of her new friend and hugging him to her chest instead.
"The results of your last batch of tests seems to have satisfied all the Psych people out there that you're a perfectly well-balanced and self-sufficient girl," Moira replied, knowing without Tia prompting her just what was on her mind. "So there's no more talk of making your parents send you to boarding school."
Tia sighed with relief; that had been a very real worry the last time Moira had been here. The ship had left with the results of a battery of tests and psychprofiles that had taken two days to complete.
"I have to tell you that I added to that," Moira said, slyly. "I told them what kind of a birthday present you had asked for from me."
"What did they say?" Tia asked, anxiously. Had they thought she was being immature, or worse yet, that it meant she harbored some kind of neurosis?
"Oh, it was funny. They were questioning me on open com, as if I was some kind of AI that wouldn't respond to anything that wasn't a direct question, so of course I could hear everything they said. There was silence for a moment, and then the worst of the lot finally blurted out, 'Good heavens, the child is normal,' as if he'd expected you to ask for a Singularity simulator or something." Moira chuckled.
"I know who it was, too," Tia said shrewdly. "It was Doctor Phelps-Pittman, wasn't it?"
"Dead on the target, wenchette," Moira replied, still chuckling. "I still don't think he's forgiven you for beating him in Battle Chess. By the way, what is your secret?"
"He moves the Queen too often," Tia said absently. "I think he likes to watch her hips wiggle when she walks. It's probably something Freudian."
A splutter of static was all that followed that pronouncement, as Moira lost control of the circuit briefly. "My, my," she replied, when she came back online. "You are a little terror. One might almost suspect you of having as much control as a shell-person!"
Tia took that in the spirit it was meant, as a compliment.
"I promise not to tell him your weakness," the ship continued, teasingly.
"What's that?" Tia was surprised; she hadn't known she had one.
"You hate to see the pawns sacrificed. I think you feel sorry for the little guys."
Tia digested this in silence for a moment, then nodded reluctant agreement. "I think you're right," she admitted. "It seems as if everybody can beat them up, and it doesn't seem fair."
"You don't have the problem with an ordinary holo-board game," Moira observed casually.
"That's because they're just little blobby pieces on a holo-board game," Tia explained. "In Battle Chess they're little pikemen. And they're cute." She giggled. "I really love it when Pawn takes Knight and he hits the Knight with the butt of his pike right in the,"
"And that's why you frighten old Phelps-Pittman," Moira said severely, though Tia could tell she didn't mean it. "He keeps thinking you're going to do the same to him."
"Well, I won't have to see old sour-face for another year and a half," she said comfortably." Maybe I can figure out how to act like a normal girl by then."
"Maybe you can," Moira replied. "I wouldn't put even that past you. Now, how about a game of Battle Chess? Ted Bear can referee."
"Of course," she agreed. "You can use the practice. I'll even spot you a pawn."
"Oh come now! You haven't gotten that much better since I saw you last." At Tia's continued silence, the ship asked, tentatively, "Have you?"
Tia shrugged. "Check my record with Socrates," she suggested.
There was silence as Moira did just that. Then. "Oh, damn it," she said in mock disgust. "You really are exasperating. I should demand that you spot me two pawns."
"Not a chance," Tia replied, ordering the AI to set up the game, with a Battle Chess field in front of her. "You're taking advantage enough of a child as it is."
"Taking advantage of a child? Ha!" Moira said ironically. "You're not a child. I'm beginning to agree with Phelps-Pittman. You're an eighty-year-old midget in a little-girl costume."
"Oh, all right," Tia said, good-naturedly. "I won't give you another pawn, but I will let you have white."
"Good." Moira studied the analog of the board in her memory, as Tia studied the holo-board in front of her. "All right, unnatural child. Have at ye!"
Moira and Tomas couldn't stay long; by dinner the ship had lifted, and the pad was empty, and the Cade family was back on schedule.
Pota and Braddon spent the evening catching up with the message-packets Moira had brought them, mostly dispatches from friends at other digs, more scholarly papers in their various fields, and the latest in edicts from the Institute. Since Tia knew, thanks to Moira, that none of those edicts concerned her, she was free to watch one of the holos Moira had brought for her entertainment. All carefully screened by the teachers at the Institute, of course, who oversaw the education of every child that was on-site with its parents. But even the teachers didn't see anything wrong with history holos, provided they were properly educational and accurate. The fact that most of these holos had been intended for adult viewing didn't seem to bother them.