Changelings

"Like snakes'?" Ke-ola asked.

"No, not all in one piece. They shed it in big flakes or scales, kind of like some trees lose their leaves."

"Don't their insides fall out then?" Chesney asked.

"No, of course not, 'cause they have new skin underneath," Rory said, looking at Chesney as if she were a silly little girl, which, actually, she wasn't.

When the twins told Marmie that Rory's granny was a famous scientist and was going to be one of their teachers, she seemed pleased, but was distracted by business. They realized that though she tried to act interested in their school and what they were doing, she was as busy, or maybe even busier, than Mum and Da. Marmie had lots of people working for her and doing things for her, but that gave her even more problems to solve. Often when they talked to her, she nodded and smiled or made appropriate noises, but wasn't really listening. And of course, she didn't personally pick out the teachers or have a lot to do with the school. She was too important for that.

"I think she liked us better when we were little," Murel said later.

"Nah, she still likes us. She's just used to us now," Ronan told her. "She knows she doesn't have to worry about us all the time. Why should she? We know our way around now and who to go to for stuff. We know how to keep people from finding out about us. We're almost adults, when you think about it."

"True. And it's not as if she's our mother or even a real auntie," Murel said a little bitterly. She had wanted to tell Marmie about them wanting to ask the new teacher if she could help them learn to control their shape-shifting. But Murel knew she could have said they were going to jump off the station into space without the benefit of suits and Marmie would have probably replied, "Bon, cherie. Tres bon. You are so clever."

"Really," Murel told her brother, "she's sort of a glorified babysitter. Only not as furry as

'Nook and Co'."

Mentioning the cats' names made her homesick. She longed to bury her face and hands in their fur, feel their raspy tongues on her cheeks and fingers-or flippers as the case might be-hear their thundering purrs or even their disdainful scolding. She missed mind-talking with them, missed talking with other creatures who were not her twin brother.

The first day of class, Rory's gran strode into the room after they were all seated. She was dark-skinned, like Rory, with the same rough-carved features and broad nostrils. Her eyes were not blue like his, but sparkling black, like anthracite at the bottom of a cold and flowing stream.

"So," she said. "You are all my grandson's classmates. Do not think, because Rory is my grandson, that I am a daft old woman who will sit here knitting while you throw spitballs at each other."

They all laughed. Professor Mabo had a great smile, with shiny white teeth and dimples, and when she spoke, her voice had kind of a song to it. It rose and fell and did little tweaks and twirls that made what she had to say more interesting. And it turned out to be plenty interesting already.

She took out some pictures that looked like the ones the twins had seen in Rory's parents' quarters. They were very stylized and looked kind of like X rays of animals, with pictures of other things inside of them. "Do you know what these are?" she asked.

"Rory's screensaver?" Ke-ola asked.

"Is it?" Professor Mabo asked her grandson.

"Yeah, Gran, I have the wombat design as a screensaver."

"It will be Professor Mabo to you too, Rory, while class is in session," Rory's gran told him.

"As for you, young man, you are apparently correct. Rory does have this sort of artwork as a screensaver. So you are familiar with the design, but do you understand what it means?" Rory raised his hand, but very cautiously. He wasn't looking nearly so pleased to be in a class where his grandmother was the teacher now. Murel thought it would have been nice if the grandmother had told Rory before class started what he was supposed to call her.

"Anyone but you, Rory. This art comes from our culture, so you should know already what it means. But I want to know if anyone else can figure it out."

"I think I know," Ronan said at the same time he raised his hand.

"Yes. It's Ronan, is it not?" But she looked as if she knew exactly who he was.

"Yes, ma'am. I think the drawings inside the bigger drawing are the story that explains the bigger creature. Some of the art of our Inuit ancestors is a bit like that."

"Most perceptive, Ronan. That is indeed part of the reason for the inner drawings. They also serve to depict the essentially dual nature of all creatures."

"All creatures, Professor?" Murel asked.

"Oh yes. You will always find the remnants in every living thing of the thing it was before it became the thing it is now."

"But most creatures are only one thing at a time, aren't they? I mean, they used to be something else maybe, but now, in this time, they are what they look like."

"Most creatures? That is an interesting way to phrase your question, my dear. Most students would feel that all creatures are as you describe, not merely most."

"Oh well, we don't know about all, do we?" Dewey asked. "I mean, none of us have seen all the creatures there are to see. That's what Murel meant, right, Murel?"