Some years everyone brought tacos but other years students got inventive. She’d had them bring arepas from Colombia, menudo from Mexico, curanto from Chile, and once even a huge steaming platter of paella from Spain. It was always a fun and delicious experience for everyone and it really helped the students learn the vocabulary she was trying to teach.
Of course, all these dishes were delicious, but Vicky was still kind of tipsy and she didn’t know if she was up to describing such complex flavors into existence. So what she chose to talk about was mostly food found at her favorite Tex-Mex restaurant in the world, Pappasito’s.
She led off with some of the simpler food people associated with the cuisine—she talked about tortilla chips and the many different dips that came with them. As if by magic, baskets of hot, salty chips and little dishes of salsa, queso, and guacamole appeared on everyone’s plate.
“You choose a chip and dip it into the concoction of your choice,” Vicky told her audience. “Try them all—the salsa is spicy and hot, the guacamole is creamy and cool and the queso is melty and delicious.”
She watched as the bored-looking Professors and their students looked at each other and then began to try the food she had spoken into existence. Of course, she never would have tried to pass chips and dip off as exotic haute cuisine to a bunch of academics on Earth, but this was an alien world where nobody had ever even had a taco before, she reasoned. So she might just get away with it.
True, the food she was offering them didn’t have any squirming larvae or an arachnid-delivery system but who didn’t love chips and salsa? Well, she hoped they would love it, anyway.
As she looked around the lecture hall, she thought her first offering was a modest success. People were nodding thoughtfully and trying all three dips separately and then mixing them together. They seemed to be enjoying themselves and learning something at the same time, which was the main point of teaching, as far as Vicky was concerned. Still, she wanted to liven things up a bit more—get them really engaged.
Then she had an idea.
“Of course,” she went on, “What would a basket of salty chips be without a delicious Margarita to wash them down?”
Naturally this wouldn’t have been possible in her high school Spanish One Class, but here she felt she could serve alcohol with impunity. Especially since it was so easy to do—all she had to do was talk about an item and it magically appeared!
The thought-to-matter transference crown thing on her head was something else. She wished she could take it home and use it in her classes at Woodrow Wilson High.
She watched as the Professors—thirsty from their first foray into the endlessly addictive world of really good salty tortilla chips—picked up their wide, salt-rimmed glasses and drank.
Eyes widened and she heard many remarks drifting up about the “complexity of the mixture” and the “sweet-sour-salty blend” of the drink. Glasses were drained and eyes began to shine—people began to laugh as they looked at her expectantly for the next dish.
Vicky went on, talking about Tex-Mex and Spanish cuisine from around the world, though she stuck mostly to the menu from Pappasito’s. It was just so good she knew her audience would have to love it—especially after being forced to eat larvae and mold during Professor Lornah’s lecture.
She talked about chili con queso and pork tamales. She spoke longingly about chicharrones and redfish tacos. She explained the beauty of a perfectly balanced mole and allowed her audience to taste the most perfectly seasoned and balanced ceviche and with every dish, she offered an accompanying drink.
By the time she made sizzling platters of fajitas and accompanying shots of strong tequila appear on every table, the audience was eating out of the palm of her hand.
Literally, Vicky thought happily. They’re literally eating up everything I say! And they’re learning Spanish too—how funny is that?
She finished with decadent slabs of tres leches cake and crispy cinnamon churros for dessert paired with tiny glasses of Osborne Pedro Ximenez Sherry. And, when every last crumb was gone, she bowed—as well as she could with the three-foot thought-to-matter transference crown on her head and said, “Gracias for allowing me to teach you a little Espanol today. I hope you have enjoyed my lecture as much as I enjoyed giving it. Buenas Noches.”
At her conclusion, the auditorium erupted into applause. The professors and their students stood, clapping and cheering wildly.
Vicky bowed again, delighted and relieved at her success. It was definitely the best-received class she’d ever taught and though she thought the immense amount of alcohol probably had something to do with her audience’s reaction, she was still pleasantly surprised that she’d pulled the unexpected lecture off so well.
Ought to try teaching drunk more often, she thought and had to suppress a giggle. It was a good thing she hadn’t been drinking all the beverages she’d offered her audience or she would be flat on her back under the table for sure!
“Well…it appears your lecture was something of a success.”
The voice in her ear made her turn and she saw Professor Lornah standing there with a slightly sour expression on her face. Clearly she wasn’t completely happy for Vicky—or maybe she was just jealous that Vicky’s lecture had gone over so much better than her own.
“Oh, hi!” she said brightly, smiling at the other woman. “Yes, the audience did seem to enjoy it.”
“Enjoy it—my dear, they ate it up!”
The new voice to her left was coming from a tall, thin woman who looked to be in her late fifties. She had a beak-like nose and hair that had been dyed a brilliant pink. Behind her were two young men in their twenties, a burly one with dark hair and light eyes and a slender blond boy with wide brown eyes and a delicate air about him.
“Professor Victoria, this is Professor Torella of the Vessels of Antiquity University,” Professor Lornah said, introducing them. “Torry, this is Professor Victoria,” she added, speaking to the beak-nosed woman.
“So excited to meet you!” the woman exclaimed, giving Vicky smacking, enthusiastic kisses on both cheeks and then on the forehead—apparently for good measure.
“Well, I’m glad to meet you, too, Professor Torella!” Vicky said, returning the woman’s gestures—even the kiss on the forehead. It was a little weird but it was clearly just their custom and Professor Torella seemed to expect it.
“Oh, just call me Torry,” the beak-nosed woman exclaimed. “And can I call you Vicky?”
“That’s what all my friends call me,” Vicky told her, smiling easily. “Thank you for coming to meet me.”
“Well, how could I stop myself after you served us all such delicious, exotic delicacies?” the other woman exclaimed. “Those chips and salsa—why, I’ve never had anything so uniquely gourmet before! Those textures—the creamy paired with the crunchy and the spice on your tongue—delicious!”
“I found the dishes too hot—they burned my tongue,” Professor Lornah said sourly.
“Oh, you’re just jealous that your own lecture was only met with middling applause while Vicky was given a standing ovation!” Professor Torella exclaimed, rounding on the other woman.
From the alcohol on her breath, Vicky was pretty certain that “Torry” was drunk—or close to it—and probably wouldn’t be talking this way otherwise. But she was still plenty tipsy herself so she joined in.
“Well, I mean, come on,” she said, gesturing with one hand. “Tacos and Margaritas are going to beat out rotten buns and spider cakes every time, am I right?” she turned to Professor Lornah. “Next time, if you want a standing O, stop trying to feed people bugs—or feed people with bugs—and give them something good. It doesn’t have to be fancy—just about anything is better than rancid whipped cream.”
“Well!” Professor Lornah’s eyes grew wide and it was clear she was offended.
“Sorry—sorry.” Even in her rather inebriated state, Vicky sensed she’d gone too far. “I was just trying to help,” she told the other woman.
This loudly-whispered admission struck Vicky as funny for some reason and she had to try—rather unsuccessfully—not to laugh. She covered her mouth with one hand but somehow the giggles kept squeezing out because she just couldn’t help herself. Soon Torry was laughing too and the two of them were falling all over each other in a tipsy giggle-fit that just wouldn’t stop.
“Well, I have never been so insulted in all my life!” Professor Lornah stared at both of them with narrowed eyes and flaring nostrils. “How dare the two of you speak about me like this—right to my face?”
“Would you rather we talk behind your back, then?” Vicky inquired seriously and then she and Professor Torella started laughing again.
Professor Lornah appeared to be on the verge of storming off stage when a new voice cut into Vicky’s giggle-fit.
“Professor Victoria,” Chain said, frowning at her, his blue eyes worried. “Are you quite all right? If you don’t mind me saying so, you’re not acting yourself right now—not at all.”
Chapter Twenty-one
Clearly his little Elite was still—if not drunk—then pretty close to it, Chain thought grimly. She had hooked arms with a woman he didn’t recognize and the two of them were giggling like schoolgirls. Meanwhile, Professor Lornah was looking more and more upset. Chain knew his role was to be seen and not heard here, but he felt like he ought to interject before things got any worse.
To his surprise, the woman who had hooked arms with Vicky didn’t look in the least upset about him speaking in public. Instead, she beckoned with her free hand.
“Come closer, my dear. Vicky, is this beefy stud your student?” she demanded.
Vicky grinned.
“He certainly is. His name is Chainor and he’s hot—like ridiculously, amazingly hot,” she said, grinning at Chain.
“While I’m flattered by your assessment of me, do you think now is the best time to give it, Professor?” Chain asked.
He was trying to be stern with her, but he couldn’t help the small grin that twitched at the corners of his mouth. Vicky tipsy was charming—as cute and cuddly as a kitten—and what he mainly wanted to do was get her away in private somewhere and tickle her to hear that delightful giggle again.
Gods, I’m gone on her, he thought. It’s ridiculous but I can’t seem to help it.
“Your student is delicious,” Professor Torella declared, giving him a hungry once-over. “But is he a life-time devotee of your work? Is that why he’s so old?”
Vicky frowned as though trying to make sense of this. It confused Chain as well. He was barely thirty cycles—perhaps a bit older than the other male students he saw here but hardly ready for the retirement home.
“I certainly am devoted to Professor Victoria for life,” he said smoothly. “That’s why she’s kept me around for so long—though I’m practically a grey-beard by now.”
Professor Torella giggled at this idea.
“Of course you’re not old in years!” she exclaimed to Chain. “It’s just that you’re old to be a student. Either she took you on recently just because you’re such a pretty male, or you’ve been with her for years because you’re a lifetime devotee. In which case, you ought to be very well versed in what pleases her.”
“I like to think I am,” Chain remarked easily. “But I suppose you’d have to ask Professor Victoria about that.”
“Oh, I intend to.” Professor Torella turned to Victoria with wide eyes. “I intend to.”
“Torella, would you listen to yourself—having a conversation with a common student?” Professor Lornah demanded angrily. “You’re drunk or you wouldn’t be acting this way! Fawning all over Professor Victoria and speaking to her student as though he was an equal citizen…” She shook her head. “It’s disgusting.”
“Oh, stop it, Lornah!” Torella made a drunken shooing gesture at her colleague with one hand. “Stop being so stuck-up and snobby! I’m not drunk—I like these people—they’re fun!”
This seemed to be the perfect opportunity to Chain. He leaned over to Victoria and whispered in her ear.
“Isn’t this the woman we need to talk to about buying the other half of the T’lix-Kruthe?”
Victoria’s green eyes widened and she nodded. Turning to Professor Torella she said, “Excuse me, Professor, but I wanted to talk to you about a certain artifact I’d like to purchase. It’s called the T’lix-Kruthe—do you know if it’s available?”
But at Victoria’s talk of business, the giggling Professor Torella stood up straight and frowned seriously.
“I’m sorry, Professor Victoria,” she said, becoming suddenly formal. “But drunk or sober, I can’t possibly talk business with you until you’ve proven your teaching skills. It’s the one hard and fast rule of our little community here on Priima Belle.”
“Proven my teaching skills?” Victoria looked confused and Chain didn’t blame her. “But…but the lecture I just gave—” she began.
“Was lovely,” Torella said, cutting her off firmly. “But it didn’t prove to me or anyone else here that you can actually teach.”
“Well, I…I’m not sure what else I can do to prove it,” Victoria said blankly.
“I do,” Torella said, smiling brightly. “Come be my guest tonight, my dear. You can give us all a little demonstration of your teaching skills and—if they’re quite adequate—we can talk business tomorrow.”
“Well…all right.” Victoria nodded, a look of resignation coming over her face. “If that’s the way you do things here, Chain and I would be happy to be your guests.” She raised an eyebrow at Torella. “I assume the invitation is open for my student as well?”
“Of course it is, silly!” Torella giggled and gave her a conspiratorial wink. “How else could you prove what a good teacher you are? Oh, and we’ll need a witness as well. Lornah, you come too,” she said to the other woman who was still scowling angrily. “Come to my estate tonight and you can bear witness to Professor Vicky’s teaching methods.”
Professor Lornah looked like she might protest at first, but then a slow, crafty smile that Chain didn’t like at all spread over her face and she nodded.
“Very well—I’ll come,” she said. “But I warn you,” she said to Victoria, “I won’t be an easy judge. I’ll tell you plainly that I think your student is too old for you—too old to be any good at whatever it is you’ve been teaching him. And I’ll be very surprised indeed if you can change my mind.”
This sounded ominous to Chain but he only smiled easily at the three women and bowed to them.
“Thank you for the opportunity. I’m certain I can show off my Lady’s teachings to your satisfaction so that Professor Victoria may earn the right to buy the other half of the T’lix-Kruthe,” he murmured.
And if not, I can always steal it, he added to himself. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time he’d taken something that didn’t belong to him and Commander Sylvan needed this artifact.
Chain was damn well going to get it, one way or another.
Chapter Twenty-two
“What in the world do you think we’re expected to do once we get to Professor Torella’s country estate?” Vicky asked as Chain punched in the coordinates the other woman had given them for directions to her home.
“I have no idea,” he said, frowning. “But whatever it is, I doubt I can do it well enough to please that Professor Lornah. I believe she’s taken a positive dislike to you, beautiful Victoria.” He grinned at her. “Probably because your lecture went over so much better than hers did. Or maybe because you refused to let that arachnid run up your body and feed you a cake. Or possibly both.�
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Vicky shuddered at the memory of the hairy black and purple spider bobbing threateningly at the edge of the table with the cake clutched in its hairy front legs, just waiting for a chance to scurry up her body and jam the sweet treat between her lips.
“That was absolutely the worst lecture I’ve ever attended,” she said flatly. “And considering how long I’ve been teaching, and how many conferences and faculty meetings I’ve been to, that’s really saying something.”
“Well, your lecture was brilliant,” Chain assured her, grinning. “And delicious, too. I imagine you have to travel all over the Earth to find such an assemblage of delicacies.”
“Actually you can get most of the ones I talked about at any halfway decent Tex-Mex restaurant,” Vicky told him. “I’ll take you to my favorite place, Pappasito’s, when we get back home.”
Then she realized she was talking like they were going to be together after this mission was over—as though their relationship was anything but temporary.
“Or—at least I’ll give you directions on how to get there,” she amended quickly. “If you really want to go.”
Chain frowned. “I do want to go, but I want to go with you, Victoria. Unless they’re some reason you don’t wish to go with me?”
“No, of course not,” Vicky said quickly. “I just thought…” She cleared her throat. “So you really liked the food?” she asked, hoping to change the subject.
“Immensely.” Chain nodded, seeming willing to drop it, much to her relief. “Oh, look—I think we’re coming to Professor Torella’s estate now.”
Vicky looked out the viewscreen to where he was pointing and caught her breath.
It looked a bit like one of those modern French villas she liked to browse through on the Internet when she was playing “what if.” As in, “what if I was independently wealthy and could move to the French Riviera and live in a villa and hire a gorgeous pool boy to keep me company for the rest of my life?”
Well, she certainly had the gorgeous boy—or man—Vicky thought, casting a sidelong glance at Chain. And now it looked like the villa part was coming true too—at least for tonight.
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