Homecoming - Christie Golden [39]
Why was his heart fluttering so in his chest? His words, when he was able to summon them, sounded halting and trembling. “Um, I haven’t been asked, but of course I’d be helpy to hap—I mean, happy to help.”
She laughed. Icheb was mortified. “That’s cute,” she [114] said. She slowed down. “Here’s my first class. Maybe I’ll see you around.”
He glanced at the number. “It is my first class as well,” he said.
“Really? What a coincidence,” said Eshe. “Maybe we can sit by each other. I don’t know a lot of people here yet.”
“Neither do I,” he said, and as he followed her into the classroom he couldn’t help but wonder if it really was a coincidence after all.
The students filed in and took their seats. Built into each desk was a small computer. When it was deactivated, students could easily write on the desk, lean their elbows on it, sometimes catch a furtive snooze. When the computer was active, it performed like any other console. Icheb was busy inspecting it. Unlike most of the freshman cadets, he was thoroughly familiar with its functions. Mildly interested,” he began to tap in commands. He was so engrossed in what he was doing that he didn’t notice the excited buzz of the other students halt abruptly.
“Since it is obvious that you know so much about the computers, would you like to teach the class, Cadet Icheb?” came a cool adult voice.
Icheb’s head whipped up. There was the smallest of instants when he was alarmed and embarrassed, but then .0006ths of a second later he realized he recognized the speaker.
“Commander Tuvok!” he said happily. Tuvok raised an eyebrow and Icheb cleared his throat and sat straighter in his chair. “Forgive me, sir. I thought you were going to stay on Vulcan.”
[115] “And such an assumption gives you carte blanche to ignore your professor?”
Icheb fought and failed to keep the smile from blossoming on his face. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Eshe looking at him with wide brown eyes and, if possible, an even greater sense of admiration.
“Negative, Commander. I apologize.”
“Good. This course is called, somewhat creatively, Out on a Limb.” Clearly Tuvok did not approve of the colorful title. “It will deal with how to handle security situations when one is not within reach of Starfleet Command. Cadet Icheb, I have concerns that our former contact may inhibit you from learning all that you might in this course. I am going to request that you be transferred.”
“Commander!” Icheb was frantic. He wanted to stay, with Eshe, and with a familiar face standing at the head of the classroom. “I assure you that I do not expect any preferential treatment.”
“Nor will you be in any danger of receiving it,” Tuvok replied coldly.
“Commander Tuvok?” It was Eshe, raising her hand shyly. “Permission to speak?”
“Go ahead, Cadet—”
“Karenga, Eshe Karenga. With all due respect, sir, you are the only instructor teaching, um, Out on a Limb this semester, and it’s a required course. It would not benefit Cadet Icheb to wait a full year.”
Tuvok frowned. “Perhaps you are right. You may stay, Cadet Icheb.”
Icheb breathed a sigh of relief, even as he realized that Tuvok was going to be harder on him than on any [116] other cadet who passed through that door. Let him. Icheb knew he was up to whatever Tuvok had to dish out. He risked giving Eshe a quick, grateful smile, then activated his computer when Tuvok instructed. It was going to be a wonderful year.
He had many offers to go out for dinner that night, but he found himself a bit overstimulated from six classes and the interaction with so many strangers, so even though Eshe gave him her most winning smile, he declined. Besides, there was someone in particular with whom he wanted to share the events of this exciting day.
When he reached the small room in the student dormitories he now called “home,” complete