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"Marcos Ribeira," Dona Crista explained. "The tall boy--"
"Ah, yes, the one who's built like a cabra."
"He is strong," said Dona Crista. "But I've never noticed any friendship between them."
"Once when Marcao was accused of something, and she happened to see it, she spoke for him."
"You put a generous interpretation on it, Libo," said Dona Crista. "I think it is more accurate to say she spoke against the boys who actually did it and were trying to put the blame on him."
"Marcao doesn't see it that way," said Libo. "I noticed a couple of times, the way he watches her. It isn't much, but there is somebody who likes her."
"Do you like her?" asked Pipo.
Libo paused for a moment in silence. Pipo knew what it meant. He was examining himself to find an answer. Not the answer that he thought would be most likely to bring him adult favor, and not the answer that would provoke their ire--the two kinds of deception that most children his age delighted in. He was examining himself to discover the truth.
"I think," Libo said, "that I understood that she didn't want to be liked. As if she were a visitor who expected to go back home any day."
Dona Crista nodded gravely. "Yes, that's exactly right, that's exactly the way she seems. But now, Libo, we must end our indiscretion by asking you to leave us while we--"
He was gone before she finished her sentence, with a quick nod of his head, a half-smile that said, Yes, I understand, and a deftness of movement that made his exit more eloquent proof of his discretion than if he had argued to stay. By this Pipo knew that Libo was annoyed at being asked to leave; he had a knack for making adults feel vaguely immature by comparis
on to him.
"Pipo," said the principal, "she has petitioned for an early examination as xenobiologist. To take her parents' place."
Pipo raised an eyebrow.
"She claims that she has been studying the field intensely since she was a little child. That she's ready to begin the work right now, without apprenticeship."
"She's thirteen, isn't she?"
"There are precedents. Many have taken such tests early. One even passed it younger than her. It was two thousand years ago, but it was allowed. Bishop Peregrino is against it, of course, but Mayor Bosquinha, bless her practical heart, has pointed out that Lusitania needs a xenobiologist quite badly--we need to be about the business of developing new strains of plant life so we can get some decent variety in our diet and much better harvests from Lusitanian soil. In her words, 'I don't care if it's an infant, we need a xenobiologist.' "
"And you want me to supervise her examination?"
"If you would be so kind."
"I'll be glad to."
"I told them you would."
"I confess I have an ulterior motive."
"Oh?"
"I should have done more for the girl. I'd like to see if it isn't too late to begin."
Dona Crista laughed a bit. "Oh, Pipo, I'd be glad for you to try. But do believe me, my dear friend, touching her heart is like bathing in ice."
"I imagine. I imagine it feels like bathing in ice to the person touching her. But how does it feel to her? Cold as she is, it must surely burn like fire."
"Such a poet," said Dona Crista. There was no irony in her voice; she meant it. "Do the piggies understand that we've sent our very best as our ambassador?"
"I try to tell them, but they're skeptical."
"I'll send her to you tomorrow. I warn you--she'll expect to take the examinations cold, and she'll resist any attempt on your part to pre-examine her."
Pipo smiled. "I'm far more worried about what will happen after she takes the test. If she fails, then she'll have very bad problems. And if she passes, then my problems will begin."
