As Hajene Doem's lecture on valuable genetic mutations in channels drew to a close, his beady eyes kept darting from Arat on one side of the room to Deah on the other. He was clearly just waiting for one of them to say something.
        Doem had a cutoff time for questions: none allowed in the last six minutes of class, which he used for summarizing the day's topic and assigning the homework.
        Arat tended to drop his bombs precisely 30 seconds before the deadline. Deah tended to blurt her questions throughout class whenever they occurred to her, even during the last six minutes. Today, however, she'd been silent, fascinated by the appallingly elegant theory she'd been nursing. If only it could be true....
        The magical moment arrived, and right on cue Arat stood and pointed at his textbook. He wore an expression of amazement. "This is me. I must be a Farris."
        The students all burst into laughter. Doem's eyes bulged, and a vein pulsed on his forehead. "Arat. That's enough out of you."
        Arat blinked. "Hajene Doem, I am making a serious -"
        Doem clenched his fist behind his back. "Would you sit down and shut up!"
        Arat sat down abruptly, his face a mask of restrained fury. Doem sighed.
        "Let's see, where was I? Oh yes. There are believed to be several more mutations that have yet to be fully studied and docu...." Doem noticed Deah signalling. Pain fleeted through his nager. "Yes, Deah?"
        She stood up. "Hajene Doem, I was wondering about Risa Tigue and her daughter Virena. The book says they both changed over at sixteen and took longer to mature than regular channels. It says they might belong to a separate mutation. Is it possible that I--"
        "No!" snapped Doem, making them all jump. "I know what you're going to ask and the answer is no. It's bad enough that the entire staff is mutation-happy, but now they've got you kids wasting your time on the same shenned foolishness!"
        Deah stared at him, astonished by his vehemence.
        "You've got to work hard to succeed." Doem stared pointedly at first Arat, whose eyes were on his textbook but who couldn't possibly have ignored someone speaking so loudly; then at Deah, who was just starting to realize she had made a colossal fool of herself... again. "That especially goes for you two. Pretending isn't going to help you out of the mess you're in."
        Deah sank back into her chair in humiliation. The ambient among the students, still ringing with the echoes of Doem's anger, shifted somewhat toward chastisement in response, particularly on her side of the room. Others' surreptitious attempts at zlinning Arat met resistance in the form of a seamlessly disinterested showfield, so his side of the room continued to eddy confusedly.
        Doem pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his Dome, then shuffled his notes. "Shenned troublemakers," he muttered. And then, to Arat and Deah, "I'll see the both of you after class."

        ----

        After class, Doem paced back and forth in front of the blackboard.
        "How many students began their training at New Othwol the day you did?" he asked, to neither of them in particular.
        Deah glanced at Arat; he stared coolly at Doem with an arrogance that refused to play the question-and-answer game. She forced her attention back where it belonged. "Thirteen, Hajene Doem. Including us."
        "Ah, I see. That was five weeks ago, wasn't it?"
        "Yes, Hajene Doem."
        A silence stretched out as he paced some more.

        The classes were taught in a continual rotation. A student graduated from any given class when he or she could pass the advancement tests. Many people only had to hear each lecture once. Others stayed on and heard some of the lectures a second time. It was supposed to allow students to learn freely at their own pace while allowing for staggered need cycles and the unschedulable nature of new channel changeovers.
        But the embarrassing fact of the matter was that out of the thirteen who'd started Doem's class the same day as Deah, only Deah and Arat remained. The rest had all advanced onward. There were more than thirteen students who'd arrived later than Deah and Arat and advanced already. It was becoming obvious to all that something was very wrong.
        Doem stopped and faced them again, hands clenched on the sides of his lectern as if that were all that prevented him from reaching out and knocking their heads together.
        "Why are the two of you still in my class?"
        Deah flushed. She wished he hadn't chosen to talk to them both together like this. Her problems were embarrassing enough without having to discuss them in front of Arat!
        "I just can't seem to learn fast enough," she mumbled.
        "You know very well why I haven't advanced," said Arat haughtily. "It is because you are deliberately holding me back."

        Doem closed his eyes for a moment. Deah wondered if he was promising himself not to do anything drastic. His hands now gripped each other; perhaps the lectern wasn't sturdy enough to withstand the frustration of a Sime teacher.
        "Deah, do you remember your review demonstration yesterday?"
        "Yes, Hajene Doem," Deah said obediently. Of course she remembered it... it was the first time she'd ever succeeded in performing a classroom demonstration of any kind. Never mind that it was a review of something they'd all supposedly learned long ago.
        "Deah, I never thought I'd see another student duplicate Arat's demonstration of that. Not ever in my lifetime. But yesterday, you did."
        Deah was stunned. "I did?" She glanced at Arat; he turned and studied her with that keen, critical gaze that stripped a person to the very motes of their being. His first attempt at the same procedure had been awe-inspiring. It had been solid and public proof that the uncanny nageric prowess he displayed in the Assemblies was no illusion. But hers, the other day...?
        "Yes." Doem's exasperation was easy to zlin. "If you had done it that well three weeks ago, you'd have been the top student in my class. And if you had done it half so well... you wouldn't be behind."
        Deah gulped as she realized what he was saying. "But Hajene Doem, I could not do it at all before yesterday. That was the first time I ever succeeded!"
        "And that is the very definition of a perfectionist... one whose definition of success surpasses any reasonable expectation she could make of herself."
        Deah gaped at him. "But...."
        "Listen to me, Deah. What you're doing -- spending your time studying what the other students learned weeks ago -- is just going to make you fall farther and farther behind. Don't waste your time time trying to be a Risa Tigue or a Klyd Farris. You aren't one of them. Conserve your resources. As soon as you're good enough to pass the tests in one subject, go on to the next. That is the most valuable thing you can do for yourself now. The Tecton requires hard workers, not dreamers."
        If Deah had heard this speech as a child, she might have cried. Now, adult and in need, she felt only an echo of hurt, like a distant scream.
        "So you're saying I'm a failure... on purpose?"
        "I'm not saying you're a failure on purpose. I'm saying that now, more than ever before in your life, you're going to have to work hard, but it isn't the same kind of working hard you're used to. Some of the hard part will be picking and choosing what to work on next. It might not be what you want to work on next, and you might find that you can't learn things as thoroughly as you'd like to if you want to keep up. But keeping up is what you will have to do. It's what we all have to do. You, me, and the Tecton."
        Deah swallowed down her protests. "I'll try, Hajene Doem," she forced herself to say.
        But she couldn't hide her deepening sense of futility and humiliation. Maybe he was right about her giving a better demonstration than the others, but if she hadn't spent all that time studying it, she wouldn't have been able to do it at all! Why wouldn't anyone believe she was having real problems with learning?

        "And as for you...." Doem turned to Arat, and stopped. Arat was hyperconscious, zlinning Deah in depth. There was an awkward pause.
        Doem's lips pressed together, and then he stepped forward between them, breaking Arat's concentration. Arat jerked back, coming duoconscious.
        "As for you," Doem continued, "you are shooting yourself in the foot. Yes, you're good enough technically, but your arrogance and your pride are making enemies of every teacher and administrator at this school. You are hostile, uncooperative, disruptive of classes and damaging to the school's reputation. And until you improve your attitude, you will not advance from my class. Not mine, and not anyone else's."
        Arat only stared at Doem, looking astonished. Deah knew he was still recovering from Doem's interruption. None of the students would dare impose on his nager as Doem had done, because Arat would become furious with whoever had done it. Deah was convinced that that fury was born of fear, and that his famed sensitivity was actually his Achilles heel. She'd even said as much to the others, and gotten a laugh.
        Doem seized his momentary advantage and continued. "Now you can straighten this whole thing out by using a little common sense. Speak when you are spoken to, answer questions when they are asked of you. Do not criticize your teachers, nor your fellow students. Never, under any circumstances, refuse to perform a functional or any type of demonstration, or refuse to work with one of the staff or one of your fellow students. Always turn in your written assignments. And for shen's sake Arat, stop thinking of yourself as better than everybody else. You're not. You're just another kid, and as soon as you get that through your head, the sooner you'll pass my class."
        For a moment, Arat almost seemed to consider Doem's words. But then he rose to his feet. His eyes narrowed, and he cast Doem a look of such contempt that it caused Doem's nager to shrivel. With that one look, Arat had reduced Doem from a lecturing authority to an uppity servant - and a replaceable one, at that.
        "You treat me as a child," he said frostily. "You have no care for my comfort. You insult me. I will neither tolerate or condone your insolence."
        Deah zlinned in fascination. Was it possible that Arat's arrogance was not just an act? Did he truly believe his noble blood entitled him to everybody else's obedience and deference, and that anything less was a slight and a provocation? If so, then from Arat's perspective the teachers' attempts to wield authority might indeed seem a constant test of his patience. Deah wondered how anyone could go through life so amazingly out of touch with reality.
        Doem sputtered, temporarily speechless. When he finally spoke, his voice was an octave higher than usual and a fleck of spittle flew from his mouth.
        "Insolence?" he bellowed. His Dome grew bright red. "You are here to be molded into a Tecton worker. Your ego is not to be catered to. I am your instructor and you will accord me with the respect due me, or you will not pass my class! Nor will you pass any others!"
        Doem seemed as ridiculous as a carnival monkey screeching impotently in its cage. What's more, he knew it too. Even Deah could zlin that. Now would definitely be a good time for Doem to retreat and rethink his strategy. Deah sincerely hoped he would. There was only so much embarrassment she could wish on a teacher, even Doem!

        But before anything else could happen, a squeak of wood and a touch of Gen nager announced the opening of the classroom door. Sosu Tebithaux Randon stuck his head in. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

        ----

        The effect on Arat was instantaneous. He sat down suddenly and the ambient cleared as the weight of his disapproval vanished. His nager became attentive and respectful as he looked at Teb.
        Doem turned narrowed eyes on Teb. He probably would have preferred to believe Arat incapable of respecting anyone, rather than that he himself simply wasn't worthy of it.
        "Come for Arat, I assume?" he said disgustedly.
        "No, I came to see what's holding Deah up. She's been helping me in the office after your class each day." He glanced at Arat. "It's his physical education class he's missing."
        Doem snorted. "He's missed every one of those. I thought he was doing it to spend time with you."
        "No, he tried that once or twice, and then Yinshin caught on and tried to catch him in my office. I had assumed he stopped skipping."
        They both turned to look at Arat. He responded with a deadpan stare that promised exactly nothing.

        Deah happened to know where Arat really went when he was supposed to be in phys ed: the City Sime Center. According to the local students, Arat had never lifted a finger in sweat labor in his life. He certainly wouldn't lower himself to anything as degrading as unaugmented jogging around an oval track. The Collectorium and Dispensary offered an enticing alternative, as the Center was so woefully understaffed that the people there were willing to cover for a student bold enough to skip classes to help. To date Arat had avoided every single physical fitness session, resulting in a big fat failure in that department. He didn't really seem to care; in his arrogance he was impervious to the opinions, and the grades, of most of the teachers in the school.

        During that pause, Doem and Teb apparently decided that the phys ed battle was not theirs to fight. They turned back to each other as if the subject had never come up.
        "Well," grunted Doem. "At any rate, I don't think he should be working with you."
        "And why not?" asked Teb, sounding surprised.
        "Your wanting to improve your skills is all very well and good, but spending so much time with you is giving Arat unrealistic expectations of Donor quality. It's reached the point where he won't even try in class unless he's matched with a Donor he can lean hard on. He'd rather fail a test than be responsible for too much of his own support. And the other day in the clinical trials, he balked during a transfer situation - a transfer situation, do you hear me? - because he felt that Mileay was, and I quote, 'not reliable'."
        "The leaning's none of my doing. Arat's always been a heavy leaner. I was pleasantly surprised by that fact when I first started working with him. It's great training for me. And as for Mileay, the kids don't call him 'Mushy' for nothing. The man is a hack, he has no field strength whatsoever. If you people had any sense at all, you wouldn't give him to any but Third Order channels or self-sufficient Seconds."

        Surely they shouldn't be talking dirt about other teachers in front of us? Deah glanced at Arat uneasily. He watched them intensely, with no sign of being aware that the students' overhearing was inappropriate. Of course, they were talking about him too.

        "Tebithaux, I realize you are very fond of your pet theories regarding Donor and channel interaction, but I must remind you that the Tecton absolutely has to have people who are interchangeable. Arat's got to come out of his First Year knowing how to work with the Sosu Mileays of the world, or his educational requirements aren't being met. The boy shows every sign of being First Order material - "
        "Bloody shen, Doem, he's First Order now. You know full well I'm no Second despite what the paperwork says, and I was perfectly satisfied by our transfer."
        "Well, that only strengthens my case. A First Order channel should have enough experience and control to work with lesser rated Donors when necessary. You are not helping Arat out by letting him think he can get out of learning to work unsupported."
        There was a pause. For the first time, genuine offense became zlinnable in Teb's nager.
        "I never under any circumstances told Arat it was okay to refuse to work," said Teb. "I'm just saying that when he's given a Donor, it should be somebody competent. But since we're attacking one another's technique, it's your own stubbornness that is preventing Arat from advancing from your class, and nothing more. He is capable of it, and you know it, and holding him back on the basis of mere technicalities is just plan ridiculous."
        "Technicalities! Tebithaux, he's never turned in an assignment. He answers less than half the questions on the tests, and the last time we successfully tested him he refused the demonstration portion until we let him use his classmate Jeniard as a substitute for the test Donor. The last time we tried to test him, he refused to test at all because Jeniard had already advanced and wasn't available."
        Teb burst out in surprised laughter. "Jeniard? Doem, that's ridiculous. If a five month old channel can provide better support, it's time Mileay thinks about retiring."
        "It wasn't Mileay that time, it was Donettis," growled Doem.
        "Anyway," continued Teb, "you know, and I know, that Arat could blow your test completely out of the water if he put effort to it. By keeping him back you're only going to increase his resentment, and understandably so. If you know he can do it, you should simply advance him; being in a more challenging class may help him in many ways."
        "If it were anybody else, I would agree. But our orders regarding Arat are to make sure he learns respect for the Tecton system and for his superiors in it."
        "Give me a break, Doem. I know you've never gone in for that party line B.S."
        Doem waved a hand, negating his last statement. "But for his own sake, Teb! If he can't learn to respect me, and he can't learn to respect the assistant Donors, how is he ever going to be able to work under a Controller? How is he ever going to get along with his Donors? And you're only making the problem worse."
        "I am not making anything worse!"
        "Don't you have any idea how badly your coddling is affecting the boy's adjustment to life at the school? Being singled out as more sensitive than the others only reinforces his belief that he doesn't belong with them."
        "Doem, he is more sensitive than everybody else. Ignoring that certainly won't help him in his schoolwork."
        "He's not making any real friends, Tebithaux. And if he doesn't make any friends, nobody's going to be in a position to straighten him out before it's too late. The school is neatly divided up between those students who are too afraid of him to go near him, and those who fall over themselves to do as he asks - no matter what he asks. Not a one of them is capable of examining him objectively, much less speaking frankly in his presence."
        "And you local teachers are any better? You approach him expecting the worst. You assume that everything he does is out of having a bad attitude - but look at yourselves! You perpetually misinterpret his words and diagnoses, twisting them into some sort of attack, when all he is doing is being honest. It's very nearly a joke. When are you people going to get it together and learn that some students are going to be smarter than you, and some students are going to swing more field strength than you, and that's just how the world is? It doesn't excuse you from facing down or teaching such students. Where would I be today if the channels at Imil were scared of a kid with a big nager?"

        Deah couldn't stop squirming. She wanted nothing more than to slip away, preferably without being noticed. She looked at Arat; even he was beginning to look somewhat uncomfortable at the way Doem and Teb were lighting into each other. Either that, or their nagers were bothering him. He glanced at her and she pointed a tentacle at the door, raising an eyebrow in question. He turned away.

        "Look," said Doem heatedly, "I don't like the school's charter any more than you do. I don't think the world is ready for a channel's school with no Householding involvement, and if you want my bet I think this place will either be shut down or completely reorganized before five years is up. But right now, right here, it is what it is, and we have to work with it. That means working with local teachers, and doing things the way that was agreed upon. And it means working triple shifts in the Sime Center, Controller's office and the classrooms, never having any personal time for friends or family, living in unfinished teachers' dorms…."
        "With our hands tied by these impossible bylaws laid out by some idealistic committee - " Teb attempted to insert.
        Doem, however, was in full rant. "Then there are the exasperating little details that there are no decent excuse for, even ignoring the rest of it. Like Arat's file folder. It's never in the cabinet when somebody else needs it! It's shenned lucky you happened to pop in, or it'd be another round of don-hat-and-arm-protection-and-go-chasing-after-the-general-contractor-trying-to-get-your-office-door-unlocked. And if I couldn't find him, which is the more likely case, I'd have the choice of either writing up the report and hanging onto it until I see the folder again personally, or else throw it on that monstrous heap in Confidential Files and hope it ends up united with the folder on its own. Fat bloody chance of that happening, with you keeping it squirrelled away in that office of yours…."

        Arat stood up suddenly. Ignored by the arguing teachers, he strode toward the door. Deah hesitated only a moment before jumping up and following him.

        "… maybe if some people like Tebithaux Randon weren't so keen on personal nager-building and discovering new mutations," continued Doem loudly and sarcastically, "and if everybody else weren't impossibly overworked, then simple things like keeping paperwork in the drawer where it belonged might possibly be achievable. Well, one can dream!"

        The door closed, shutting off the sound of his voice.

        ----

        Once out in the empty hallway, Deah sighed in relief... and frustration. "I can't believe he said I was just wasting my time!" she said. "I'm not a perfectionist. I couldn't do it at all before that first demonstration yesterday. Why can't anybody see that?"
        Arat stopped and looked down at her.

        It struck Deah suddenly that this was the first time they'd ever been alone together. His attention took her breath away. He zlinned her so thoroughly she felt naked from head to toe - and about one inch tall. His expression was that of a lord evaluating a bumbling peasant oaf: calm, arrogant, dismissive.
        "I wouldn't rule out a lack of sufficient physical development as the root of your problem," he remarked.
        Deah felt her face turn beet red.
        "What do you know!" she retorted.
        Arat blinked, surprised by her reaction, then quickly covered up with haughty indifference. "Very well then. Good day." He turned and walked away from her, his nose in the air.

        Deah fumed all the way to Teb's office.

        ----

        When Deah had set about to make herself available to teachers for office help, she'd found them more accommodating than she'd ever dreamed. In fact, it quickly became obvious there wasn't a teacher or staff member in the school that wouldn't accept an unlimited amount of her time in exchange for answering a couple questions now and then. Even Doem couldn't resist getting her to help grade papers.
        Not only that, but the school's main office always needed filing and other office help, and even the City of New Othwol's makeshift Controller's Office began to use her occasionally.
        When she graded papers, she could see other students' differing perspectives on what they were learning. Working in the school's main office helped her to understand the greater picture of how students were educated at the school. And the occasional chances she got to file papers and copy transfer schedules in the City Controller's office gave her taunting glimpses into the real uses for all of the things they were learning.
        But the most valuable experience of all was working for Sosu Tebithaux Randon, because Teb was truly willing to be her mentor. He helped her with her questions about classwork, and though it was clear Arat was his favorite pupil, he always managed to find a moment for Deah when she needed him most.
        An avid self-improvement enthusiast himself, Teb encouraged Deah in her struggle for knowledge, and even suggested reading material and lent her books. He understood what it meant to want to really learn, not just go through the motions of learning.
        So when Teb returned to his office some time later, Deah asked him the question that had been bursting inside of her ever since she'd left Doem's classroom.

        "Sosu Teb?"
        "Yes, Deah?" The Gen's nager was kind and responsive. Her confidence increased somewhat as his attention fixed on her.
        "Hajene Doem said I was...." she struggled, trying to find the least painful way of expressing that which she found unbearable. "He said I've been wasting my time, and that's why I'm behind."
        Teb nodded, his nager attentive and concerned and sincere, and the words began to rush out.
        "He says I'm a perfectionist, spending twice as much time learning something so that I can be twice as good as everybody else. But that's not how it is at all! I don't know why I did that demonstration so well yesterday. Before that, I really couldn't do that procedure. He says my definition of success is wrong, but he's the one who kept telling me I wasn't doing it good enough in class. Teb, how am I ever going to get through the training? I swear to you I'm not wasting my time. I'm trying as hard as I can, and I'm not a perfectionist. I'm not. I only want to graduate."
        Teb placed a hand on hers, his smooth cool nager comforting her.
        "I believe you," he said.
        She knew a profound relief. Teb believed her. He would help her.
        "Deah, not everybody learns at the same rate. And yes, there are some people who will never be able to learn everything the others do."
        Deah's relief froze into horror as Teb continued.
        "The transition to adulthood is never easy, particularly for channels." Teb frowned, then picked his next words with care. "You have to understand... when you change, when you become Sime, you can't just continue on with life as if nothing had occurred. It's not like your first steps, or your first tooth, or your first love."
        "I know that."
        "I think you know the words, but you haven't really assimilated the full meaning of it yet. Deah, when a person changes over, there are major, major changes that happen inside the body. Chemical changes. Nervous system changes. Why, that's all the brain is, is chemicals and nerves. Add on top of that your body is different, your senses are different, even what you eat is different. You feel like the same person," (he put his fist to his chest) "because you have the same soul. But the brain and body are those of an entirely different person."
        "So you're saying," said Deah slowly, "that I have to try to fit in, to live somebody else's life? Somebody I don't know very well?"
        "Yes, you do. Because nothing within your experiences as a child could possibly have prepared you for what it is to be Sime and adult. You can consider your childhood a foundation, if you like, but the structure of your life must be built anew."
        "And the new me," said Deah, bitterness creeping into her tone, "may be less than I had hoped."
        Teb shook his head. "Not less. Different. You'll learn new kinds of strength you never considered before. Standards of success and advancement a child would never have been able to conceive of."
        "Well, like what?"
        "Like perseverence."
        "Oh, give me a br -"
        "And having a positive attitude in the face of adversity. And in finding ways to succeed where others see none. Don't you believe those things are badly needed in the Tecton today?"
        She stared at him.
        "Deah, the Tecton isn't about setting a perfect mark and trying to match it. It isn't about grades, or parental reports, or any of that other kid's stuff. It's about trying to make the world a safe place to live for Simes and Gens. The world is dangerous. There are juncts, and Gens with guns, and people who'd kill or murder their own children if they change the wrong way. Sime Centers are getting burned down. Householdings are arguing with each other. And, the Tecton isn't a living, breathing entity that can save the world on its own... it's thousands of people just like you and me, all doing the best we can. Your part may not be large, and it may not be glamorous, and it may not even be in the public contact. But every part, no matter how small, is helping the Tecton and the world move ahead."
        There was a pause.
        "I can't believe it," said Deah slowly, as it finally dawned on her why this seemed so familiar. "You're telling me to become the Insulator's Apprentice."
        "I'm what?"
        Deah grimaced at the memory of that unpleasant first day. "There was this guy, Pico Waik... forget it, it's not important."
        Teb's eyes and nager locked onto hers, the firm support lending strength to his words. "You have the power within you to find that new Deah and make her succeed, whoever and whatever she turns out to be, but you have to choose to do it. Doem is a wise man. Think about what he said, and follow his advice. For your own good." He met her eyes, trying to judge her mood by sight alone. "Okay?" he asked, gently.
        She nodded, but the reply stuck in her throat. It was a few moments before she was able to say, "Okay, Teb."

        But it wasn't okay.