“Summer camp or chemistry camp?”
Ivan glanced up at Ian’s question. “Well, I do suppose we should balance their education. I’m not sure if chemistry camp will teach them anything that I haven’t taught them at home.”
“Yes, but Lisle is utterly gaga for turning alligators into winged alligators,” said Ian.
“Precisely why she’s going to summer camp!” he laughed. “I love that girl but she’s so advanced for her age she’s going to end up turning her brother into an android before I can teach her basic morality.”
“They’re not doing that bad in that department.”
“Well,” Ivan said, his nose glimmering in the light of the kitchen, “better than I was.”
“It’s only fair that they get to choose their own paths in the end.” They had picked their own ways, after all, and they couldn’t possibly force the kids to pick either one. Purely following tradition had never pleased either of them, anyway.
“We’ll support them, no matter what.”
“We will.” They squeezed hands under the table. It would be good for the children to make friends – if they picked spywork, having a network of fellows willing to stick their necks out for them would someday be useful. If they picked villainy then they’d need to learn how to develop a sense of camaraderie with their brethren, which would provide them with cover identification, alibis and other sorts of protection if the heat ever got too hot to be borne. The relationship between these two branches were symbiotic but they were also opposing. They would figure this out themselves.
“Perhaps,” Ian said, “we should give them the option of choosing their proper place. Even if Lisle does pick supervillainy….”
“Ahh yes,” Ivan sighed. “Well. I’ll make coffee and you get them up?”
“Marvelous plan.” They were good at forming those, synchronized – just as he’d always knew they would be. He hoped the children would find futures that suited them as well, and put himself to work making breakfast.