(c) copyright 2003 by Sime~Gen Inc. All rights
reserved.
Chapter
Three
The Tutor
By ten that night, Vret had barely stopped shaking
with fatigue. The long
Third Order recovery period was another reason he so desperately
wanted to Qualify. He
hated being too tired to think straight – and as a Third, he’d be
in that condition almost all the time.
As soon as he recovered from a functional, there’d be
another.
It had taken his assigned Donor more than half an
hour to get him to stop sweating from what he diagnosed as a mild case
of vriamic shock. “Kwotiin
is harsh on his trainees, but if he thinks you can make Second, you
can; no doubt about that.”
Vret heaved his Cassleman and Logan and other
books onto the desk in the study room.
His name had been on the reservation sheet outside the door,
though he, himself, had never reserved the room.
He had Collection Lab at four the next morning
because he was past turnover but not yet in serious Need and they
wanted him to work directly with a Gen.
He hoped he’d be able to finish here and get some sleep
before then. Taking
donations always wore him out fast.
But … A
tutor! Only the
most uneducated kids from the back of nowhere ever got assigned a
tutor. But he had said
he’d do whatever it took, and he had to show Kwotiin that he meant
that.
And then heaven rained peace upon his ravaged
vriamic.
He whirled to find the door filled with the most
incredible nager a Third Order channel could ever display.
He struggled to duoconsciousness, and gaped like a first-week
student zlinning a Farris for the first time.
“Ilin Sumz!” The
woman who had changed his life by uttering a few simple words he
himself had said. And
she’s going to tutor me in history!
“You must be… – why are you so surprised?”
The throbbing wonder abated as she controlled her showfield.
“Kwotiin said he told you I’d be glad to tutor you in
history if you’ll help me out with my lousy vriamic control.
It’s been getting worse, lately, not better.”
“Um.” Words
vanished from his mind as if he’d never learned to speak Simelan.
Then they flooded back in a rush.
“He didn’t mention that, but I would be most pleased to
provide whatever help I can.”
She smiled, and it filled the cubicle with bubbles
of anticipation of delight that tingled his skin everywhere.
When she zlinned him, he felt her smile all the way to his bone
marrow and suddenly he knew she was as interested in him as he was in
her.
“Sorry.” Her
nageric effect toned down a bit. She
went on talking in a serious, businesslike tone as she set her books
down and positioned a chair, but he didn’t track what she said.
I do not know that she’s
Bilateral, author of Aunser ambrov
D’zehn, he reminded himself sternly.
Participants on the secret board used nicknames for anonymity.
If caught, no one person could betray everyone else, but just
the person who got them onto the boards and those they, themselves,
had introduced to them.
Fortunately, he didn’t have to come up with any
more witty comments. They
fell right to work, seated side by side, his fields interpenetrating
hers. She felt as tired as
he did, he noted. But
after that he began to track what she was saying about the
socio-dynamic causes of Unity and why attempts to create something
similar had failed all around the world so many times before Klyd
Farris and Risa Tigue made it happen.
For the first time since he’d arrived at
Rialite, history started to make sense.
The words in the book actually registered, and he could
remember the meaning even a half hour later.
Events hadn’t just happened, people didn’t pop out of
nowhere, they had childhoods and failed marriages and wayward
children, and then made world shattering decisions based on what
they’d learned from their lives.
Everything these historic figures had done had a
cause somewhere back in time, and left an effect propagating through
to the present, two and a half centuries later.
History wasn’t unlike forensic science, his favorite subject.
Sitting with Ilin Sumz, he learned how many clues
could be found in how the languages changed with public attitudes.
History records might say anything, but linguistic clues told
the truth.
That study hour turned into an amazing night –
one of many in quick succession. The
mysteries of history lay bare and revealed before his inner eye.
But the highpoint of the evening came as they were
parting. As he turned to
walk away, he felt her attention on his back, sweeping lower, to hips,
thighs, calves, and back to his shoulders.
And the whole ambient glowed with pure approval.
Oh, we will be good together!
