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The Empress of Cetaganda had put aside three hours to deal with current projects. Reports and recordkeeping took ten minutes, but the last item on the agenda remained and Rian hoped there'd be sufficient time for it.
"And our experimental project?" she asked, dismissing her other subordinates.
The creche director realised that there was no one to hide behind and tried to melt through the floor. "It can't be educated!" The marble floor tiles similarly failed to yield to his mental commands.
Rian sighed and began to list out options. "Has it been deprived of sweets?"
"It convinced the entire nursery to share their desserts with it and ate itself sick. It spent three hours on an IV."
"Made to sit in the corner?"
"It scribbled wacky pictures and obscenities on the wall. Three spelling errors."
"Sent off alone?"
"It started to talk to itself. The psychologists say there's danger of a split personality developing."
"Medicated?" "You have forbidden us to violate the purity of the experiment."
"I see. And what has it done this time?"
The director hesitated again, but the stern gaze of the Empress made him speak. "It learns its lessons, does its homework, and answers questions in class correctly... but it's unbelievably arrogant and that's all we can get it to do! And it won't follow the training regimen! It constantly needs to do things its own way! The teachers are already clutching their heads! Who else would first pour milk and honey in a cup, and only then add the tea? None of our ba would dare do such a thing. There's no stopping its antics, and it even claims it tastes better that way!"
Rian stopped his rant with a gesture. "What do its fellow students think of it?
"They adore it," the director grimaced. "For what? Who knows, and I don't know why either. And they listen to it unquestioningly! If it wasn't asexual, I'd think they were all in love with it. Although it's early yet!"
"Yes, the asexuality is a good thing. We don't need uncontrolled breeding," the Empress nodded, echoing his thought. "What about discipline?"
"Yesterday it escaped again from a poetry lesson in the garden. It said observing the hierarchy of an anthill was more interesting. But it only believes in hierarchy when it's the one at the top giving orders!"
Rian frowned again, interrupting the endless flow of complaints.
"Celestial Lady," the director whined, "please send it to another creche. If this keeps up my staff will all abandon me. How am I supposed to run this place by myself?"
"This is the fifth creche in three years," the Empress answered in a thoughtful tone.
"Sometimes I'm tempted to kill it," the director breathed, realizing he had nowhere to go.
"If it dies, you will share its fate," Rian replied serenely.
"Is it possible to at least cut its tongue out?" the director implored.
"Haven't they all been taught sign language?"
"Or perhaps break one of its legs so that it'll run around less?"
Rian smirked. "As someone familiar with its progenitor, I guarantee that will not help."
"So let's send it to its progenitor on Barrayar!" the director exclaimed. "They created it, let them suffer!"
"I suspect the Imperial Auditor would not appreciate the gift. Nor the rest of the galaxy. After all, we've been denying we created Admiral Naismith."
"And did we create him?" the director murmured.
"No, he appeared as an adult and we missed his upbringing. So I need this copy to be perfect. Return to work and remember: you may be developing the character of your future Emperor!"
