Sylvia Chapter 4 (WIP)
"I do not understand why your statement of disinterest in that other student was seen as something so shocking," noted Grandfather, looking up from his inner analysis of Sylvia's account of her day.
Sylvia sighed from where she was hanging over the arm of her chair. "It can damage self esteem, the teachers say. So it's bullying."
He blinked, the expression on his face showing yet again the incredulity and amazement that it had expressed so often on the day before. "None of these issues surfaced during your previous years in the public school system."
"That's because it was elementary school. It mostly focused on approval for everybody and learning to be a good citizen, along with the math and language arts and stuff. It was self directed with automatic private and corporation sponsored teacher drones, and nobody thought of grown up stuff." She squirmed a bit to try and see beneath the chair, thinking that she'd seen a glint of metal under there. "In middle school we're supposed to be learning how to work for a human supervisor, and forming peer groups and that sort of thing."
Grandfather shook his head. "I do not think that you will be able to learn properly in such an environment. I have already spoken with the human education board, and they have given me permission to continue your education here as long as you are able to pass the quarterly tests and I am able to provide you with an appropriate peer group. Was your experience with the mainframe's tutoring satisfactory?"
Sylvia's baffled and unhappy expression was wiped away by a happy smile. "He's just as interesting as you are, Grandfather. And he's given me a history book about your people. He's teaching me to read the glyphs."
"I... had not realized that you would be interested in learning about my people," said Grandfather slowly, his surprise evident.
Sylvia gave him a wide-eyed look, wondering if he was joking. "Why wouldn't I be, Grandfather? It's part of my history too. And it's interesting for a lot of other reasons. Including the reason that I like to learn."
"Indeed." He facepalmed quietly at his oversight. "Yet again I have underestimated your hunger for knowledge. You are aware that those files are records of events that took place before our Creator had finished building the Earth?"
"Yes." Her shy smile bloomed, infinitely gleeful and geeky.
"Ah. You truly are my descendant." He shook his head, rumbling softly in a chuckle.
She curled up a bit in the chair, still smiling as she hugged herself. The stressful confrontation of the afternoon was being replaced in her thoughts by the calm peace of being here with Grandfather and the prospect of being able to study what interested her instead of simple and repetitive materials that she had mastered when she was eight years old.
But then she frowned. "Kaneesha wanted me to do her homework. Not help her with it, but do it."
"Where there any security recorders present?" Grandfather frowned, his own smile fading.
"No. I didn't see... wait." Her hand went up to the plain band of metal that pulled the top half of her hair into a low ponytail. "Yes. I'm wearing mine."
"Good. I will store the files so that we will have them if they are needed." Grandfather accessed the data stored on the simple recording device. "I understand that trying to get someone else to do the assigned work for educational sessions is improper?"
"Well it's not good for you. You can't learn if you don't do the work," said Sylvia slowly. "Most people can't really pick things up just by studying the theory." She'd been surprised when she first realized that, but it was true.
"Indeed." He nodded, then looked at her curiously. "You are not going to go and study further before supper?"
"No... I think I would rather spend time with you instead." She looked back hopefully. "Unless you have things you need to do?"
"Nothing that would prevent me from enjoying your company." His eye twinkled as he leaned forward in his chair with both hands on the head of his cane. "Do you wish to view a historical entertainment drama?"
"One of your old flat screen 'movies'?" Sylvia sat up eagerly.
"Indeed." He chuckled. "You are old enough now to view them without becoming confused or frightened, I think."
"I won't be frightened." She shook her head. "They showed a gutsy holo for recreation period a few days ago, and I only felt nauseated."
Grandfather pinched the bridge of his nose. "I do not approve of the modern human concept of entertainment. It discredits the value of life."
Sylvia nodded, but then looked at him hopefully. "What will we watch?"
He chuckled again, exasperation forgotten. "I think that I would like to view a file called 'The Golden Voyage of Sinbad'. It was created in the Earth year 1974 and was once best known for its use of stop motion puppetry to portray fictional creatures."
"Monsters?" Sylvia put her hands to her cheeks with excitement. "Is it an adventure story?"
"It is." Grandfather rose carefully with his chair's help, then reached for her and held her close as he moved slowly toward the hall and the entertainment room.
* * *
"He gave the crown to the Vizier." Sylvia grinned a little grin of pleased excitement as she snuggled down into the blanket tucked into Grandfather's hands. "I like that."
"Indeed." He glanced down to make sure that she was comfortable where she was resting against his chest plating in her nest of soft cotton. "It was a kindly action, though masked with a facade of selfishness."
Sylvia chuckled softly. "Sinbad is a 'tough guy' character. It would be harmful to his reputation to be seen as kind."
"That is an interesting deduction, Sylvia. On what information do you base it?"
"Your stories about your oldest friend, mostly," she confessed, laughing and blushing. "He never wanted anyone to think that he was being kindly or nice."
"Ahhhh. The Weapons Master." Grandfather's head shook slowly from side to side as he rumbled with his own quiet laughter. "Yes. That is very true. I am pleased with your use of a real life example to make deductions about the fictional character."
Sylvia leaned her cheek against the big warm fingers that sheltered her against all the incomprehensibles of the day, absently pulling her blanket up around her shoulders as she did. "...The silly boy is smarter and stronger now, but he's still silly. And now he looks like a yo yo."
"Indeed." Grandfather chuckled, then switched off the view screen as 'Sinbad's' ship sailed into the sunset. "It is a predictable story, but enjoyable. And the results gained through its simple construction are highly interesting."
"I liked those monsters better than the computer generated ones we have now. It makes it clearer that you're watching a story, and that makes it even more interesting for me," said Sylvia, then meeped softly as cool small arms wrapped around her leg. "Zeta Zelda, how did you manage to get cold when we're snuggled against Grandfather?"
The little mechadrone only muttered softly and snuggled more closely.
Sylvia laughed again, softly. "She's asleep, and we haven't even eaten supper yet. She's so silly sometimes."
"It is part of her appeal," agreed Grandfather, smiling. "Though at the time of her creation I rued my inability to make a more complex companion for you."
"She's just right. Sometimes I wish I could make her smarter, but then there are times when I think she's a lot smarter than she lets me see her being." Sylvia blinked somnolently, then sighed. "It's too bad she can't count as a peer group."
Grandfather rumbled soothingly. "You are human. You need other young humans to interact with socially so that you may develop properly."
"I've been alright without them so far." She looked up plaintively.
Grandfather shook his head. "When you were too small to enter the public education system I brought you to play dates. You seemed to enjoy the interaction that you engaged in during those encounters."
Sylvia's expression lightened. "Babies are fun. Even when they were the same age and size that I was. If you feed them, wrap them up in blankets, and cuddle them they're happy."
"Indeed." His eye twinkled. "I have found this to be true over the years. However once they get older they require further mental stimulation."
"Tickle them till they squeal, and then stack blocks for them to knock over."
"...So that's what you did to those other children to make them emit that volume of sound." Grandfather blinked, his brows raising with surprised enlightenment.
"You couldn't tell?" Sylvia looked up with surprise of her own.
"My holographic stand in lacks many of the sensors of my body, so no, I was never able to ascertain the cause of the vocalizations." He shook his head.
"Oh." She blushed and ducked her head. "Well. Heh..."
An upper finger curled to gently smooth her hair. "I do not think they sustained any damage from the experience. ...And I think I may have thought of a solution to the question of your peer group."
Sylvia looked up. "Oh, I'm glad."
He nodded slowly. "What are your feeling about the Archaists?"
Her face brightened with interest. "I've been trying to find material about them, but it's all blocked to people of my age and rated R."
"...I am starting to experience a failure in my surprise routines when it comes to anything that modern humanity practices," grumbled Grandfather softly, his head once more moving slowly from side to side. "But back to the point. There is an Archaist community nearby. From what I have gleaned from the relevant files they practice a form of what was once known as Christianity. They believe men and women to be of equal worth, and that the genders are the result of birth and not choice. They also still practice the ancient rite of marriage, which is not dissimilar to the pair bonds formed by my own people. And they still own and study those files that you recently memorized."
Sylvia could see why information about these people was considered R rated and improper for children, but though her eyes were slightly wide with a sense of mild shock picked up from her brief stint in public middle school they were also bright with curiosity. "How do they get jobs?"
"They are farmers. I understand that a great deal of their sustenance is grown on their own small farms." Grandfather squinted slightly as he ran over the data files again.
"Would they let me visit? I mean, if they're so different..." She hesitated, her hands going nervously to her face.
"The seclusion is not of their own choosing," Grandfather assured her. "They readily welcome visitors." And then his eye brightened. "As a matter of fact they have issued an invitation to a 'Bible study' tomorrow. There are apparently classes suitable for all age and gender groups."
"Bible study! You mean lessons all about it?" Sylvia sat bolt upright, her excitement making her cheeks flush as her eyes sparkled with interest.
"It would appear so," said Grandfather slowly, as he ran the file through his data processor a twelfth time.
"May I go? Please? What's the fee?" She gripped her small hands on the edge of his topmost finger, her eyes intent on his as she leaned back and twisted to be able to see his face.
Grandfather frowned uncertainly, then sent a voice mail to the frequency given on the ad about the study. The prompt and friendly reply caused his brows to once more lift. "There is no fee. Though the man that I just spoke to said that you may bring something pleasant to eat and share with your classmates."
"Something to eat..." Sylvia's expression changed to concerned confusion. "Did their farms not function properly? They don't have enough?"
"No, Sylvia. They have enough. Bringing food to share is an ancient social custom no longer remembered by much of human society, though it survives in many other races." Grandfather rumbled at her reassuringly. "It is a sign of friendship."
"Oh." Her brow cleared. "Oh! That will be a proper peer bonding activity, then. But what should I bring?"
"I will make a fresh batch of vegetable chips tonight while you are sleeping." Grandfather looked up as he accessed his chronometer. "But for now we should see about introducing you to some of the pot roast that I started cooking this morning. The mature stem should have absorbed the flavours properly and been broken down enough by the heat and moisture to make it palatable for you."
"I like your pot roasts, Grandfather." Sylvia pulled a dozy but contented Zeta Zelda out of the blanket nest, and then wondered where her other foot glove had gone. Unable to find an immediate answer to the question, she solved it in her own mind by kicking off the other foot glove and then holding it in her hand.
Then she settled onto the side table as Grandfather set her down and watched with quiet praying as he went through the ponderous and creaky process of being lifted from his chair. Once she was sure that he'd safely survived the ordeal she set Zeta Zelda down, found the missing foot glove, and then scooted down the table stairs and out of the room to get ready for supper.
Sylvia sighed from where she was hanging over the arm of her chair. "It can damage self esteem, the teachers say. So it's bullying."
He blinked, the expression on his face showing yet again the incredulity and amazement that it had expressed so often on the day before. "None of these issues surfaced during your previous years in the public school system."
"That's because it was elementary school. It mostly focused on approval for everybody and learning to be a good citizen, along with the math and language arts and stuff. It was self directed with automatic private and corporation sponsored teacher drones, and nobody thought of grown up stuff." She squirmed a bit to try and see beneath the chair, thinking that she'd seen a glint of metal under there. "In middle school we're supposed to be learning how to work for a human supervisor, and forming peer groups and that sort of thing."
Grandfather shook his head. "I do not think that you will be able to learn properly in such an environment. I have already spoken with the human education board, and they have given me permission to continue your education here as long as you are able to pass the quarterly tests and I am able to provide you with an appropriate peer group. Was your experience with the mainframe's tutoring satisfactory?"
Sylvia's baffled and unhappy expression was wiped away by a happy smile. "He's just as interesting as you are, Grandfather. And he's given me a history book about your people. He's teaching me to read the glyphs."
"I... had not realized that you would be interested in learning about my people," said Grandfather slowly, his surprise evident.
Sylvia gave him a wide-eyed look, wondering if he was joking. "Why wouldn't I be, Grandfather? It's part of my history too. And it's interesting for a lot of other reasons. Including the reason that I like to learn."
"Indeed." He facepalmed quietly at his oversight. "Yet again I have underestimated your hunger for knowledge. You are aware that those files are records of events that took place before our Creator had finished building the Earth?"
"Yes." Her shy smile bloomed, infinitely gleeful and geeky.
"Ah. You truly are my descendant." He shook his head, rumbling softly in a chuckle.
She curled up a bit in the chair, still smiling as she hugged herself. The stressful confrontation of the afternoon was being replaced in her thoughts by the calm peace of being here with Grandfather and the prospect of being able to study what interested her instead of simple and repetitive materials that she had mastered when she was eight years old.
But then she frowned. "Kaneesha wanted me to do her homework. Not help her with it, but do it."
"Where there any security recorders present?" Grandfather frowned, his own smile fading.
"No. I didn't see... wait." Her hand went up to the plain band of metal that pulled the top half of her hair into a low ponytail. "Yes. I'm wearing mine."
"Good. I will store the files so that we will have them if they are needed." Grandfather accessed the data stored on the simple recording device. "I understand that trying to get someone else to do the assigned work for educational sessions is improper?"
"Well it's not good for you. You can't learn if you don't do the work," said Sylvia slowly. "Most people can't really pick things up just by studying the theory." She'd been surprised when she first realized that, but it was true.
"Indeed." He nodded, then looked at her curiously. "You are not going to go and study further before supper?"
"No... I think I would rather spend time with you instead." She looked back hopefully. "Unless you have things you need to do?"
"Nothing that would prevent me from enjoying your company." His eye twinkled as he leaned forward in his chair with both hands on the head of his cane. "Do you wish to view a historical entertainment drama?"
"One of your old flat screen 'movies'?" Sylvia sat up eagerly.
"Indeed." He chuckled. "You are old enough now to view them without becoming confused or frightened, I think."
"I won't be frightened." She shook her head. "They showed a gutsy holo for recreation period a few days ago, and I only felt nauseated."
Grandfather pinched the bridge of his nose. "I do not approve of the modern human concept of entertainment. It discredits the value of life."
Sylvia nodded, but then looked at him hopefully. "What will we watch?"
He chuckled again, exasperation forgotten. "I think that I would like to view a file called 'The Golden Voyage of Sinbad'. It was created in the Earth year 1974 and was once best known for its use of stop motion puppetry to portray fictional creatures."
"Monsters?" Sylvia put her hands to her cheeks with excitement. "Is it an adventure story?"
"It is." Grandfather rose carefully with his chair's help, then reached for her and held her close as he moved slowly toward the hall and the entertainment room.
* * *
"He gave the crown to the Vizier." Sylvia grinned a little grin of pleased excitement as she snuggled down into the blanket tucked into Grandfather's hands. "I like that."
"Indeed." He glanced down to make sure that she was comfortable where she was resting against his chest plating in her nest of soft cotton. "It was a kindly action, though masked with a facade of selfishness."
Sylvia chuckled softly. "Sinbad is a 'tough guy' character. It would be harmful to his reputation to be seen as kind."
"That is an interesting deduction, Sylvia. On what information do you base it?"
"Your stories about your oldest friend, mostly," she confessed, laughing and blushing. "He never wanted anyone to think that he was being kindly or nice."
"Ahhhh. The Weapons Master." Grandfather's head shook slowly from side to side as he rumbled with his own quiet laughter. "Yes. That is very true. I am pleased with your use of a real life example to make deductions about the fictional character."
Sylvia leaned her cheek against the big warm fingers that sheltered her against all the incomprehensibles of the day, absently pulling her blanket up around her shoulders as she did. "...The silly boy is smarter and stronger now, but he's still silly. And now he looks like a yo yo."
"Indeed." Grandfather chuckled, then switched off the view screen as 'Sinbad's' ship sailed into the sunset. "It is a predictable story, but enjoyable. And the results gained through its simple construction are highly interesting."
"I liked those monsters better than the computer generated ones we have now. It makes it clearer that you're watching a story, and that makes it even more interesting for me," said Sylvia, then meeped softly as cool small arms wrapped around her leg. "Zeta Zelda, how did you manage to get cold when we're snuggled against Grandfather?"
The little mechadrone only muttered softly and snuggled more closely.
Sylvia laughed again, softly. "She's asleep, and we haven't even eaten supper yet. She's so silly sometimes."
"It is part of her appeal," agreed Grandfather, smiling. "Though at the time of her creation I rued my inability to make a more complex companion for you."
"She's just right. Sometimes I wish I could make her smarter, but then there are times when I think she's a lot smarter than she lets me see her being." Sylvia blinked somnolently, then sighed. "It's too bad she can't count as a peer group."
Grandfather rumbled soothingly. "You are human. You need other young humans to interact with socially so that you may develop properly."
"I've been alright without them so far." She looked up plaintively.
Grandfather shook his head. "When you were too small to enter the public education system I brought you to play dates. You seemed to enjoy the interaction that you engaged in during those encounters."
Sylvia's expression lightened. "Babies are fun. Even when they were the same age and size that I was. If you feed them, wrap them up in blankets, and cuddle them they're happy."
"Indeed." His eye twinkled. "I have found this to be true over the years. However once they get older they require further mental stimulation."
"Tickle them till they squeal, and then stack blocks for them to knock over."
"...So that's what you did to those other children to make them emit that volume of sound." Grandfather blinked, his brows raising with surprised enlightenment.
"You couldn't tell?" Sylvia looked up with surprise of her own.
"My holographic stand in lacks many of the sensors of my body, so no, I was never able to ascertain the cause of the vocalizations." He shook his head.
"Oh." She blushed and ducked her head. "Well. Heh..."
An upper finger curled to gently smooth her hair. "I do not think they sustained any damage from the experience. ...And I think I may have thought of a solution to the question of your peer group."
Sylvia looked up. "Oh, I'm glad."
He nodded slowly. "What are your feeling about the Archaists?"
Her face brightened with interest. "I've been trying to find material about them, but it's all blocked to people of my age and rated R."
"...I am starting to experience a failure in my surprise routines when it comes to anything that modern humanity practices," grumbled Grandfather softly, his head once more moving slowly from side to side. "But back to the point. There is an Archaist community nearby. From what I have gleaned from the relevant files they practice a form of what was once known as Christianity. They believe men and women to be of equal worth, and that the genders are the result of birth and not choice. They also still practice the ancient rite of marriage, which is not dissimilar to the pair bonds formed by my own people. And they still own and study those files that you recently memorized."
Sylvia could see why information about these people was considered R rated and improper for children, but though her eyes were slightly wide with a sense of mild shock picked up from her brief stint in public middle school they were also bright with curiosity. "How do they get jobs?"
"They are farmers. I understand that a great deal of their sustenance is grown on their own small farms." Grandfather squinted slightly as he ran over the data files again.
"Would they let me visit? I mean, if they're so different..." She hesitated, her hands going nervously to her face.
"The seclusion is not of their own choosing," Grandfather assured her. "They readily welcome visitors." And then his eye brightened. "As a matter of fact they have issued an invitation to a 'Bible study' tomorrow. There are apparently classes suitable for all age and gender groups."
"Bible study! You mean lessons all about it?" Sylvia sat bolt upright, her excitement making her cheeks flush as her eyes sparkled with interest.
"It would appear so," said Grandfather slowly, as he ran the file through his data processor a twelfth time.
"May I go? Please? What's the fee?" She gripped her small hands on the edge of his topmost finger, her eyes intent on his as she leaned back and twisted to be able to see his face.
Grandfather frowned uncertainly, then sent a voice mail to the frequency given on the ad about the study. The prompt and friendly reply caused his brows to once more lift. "There is no fee. Though the man that I just spoke to said that you may bring something pleasant to eat and share with your classmates."
"Something to eat..." Sylvia's expression changed to concerned confusion. "Did their farms not function properly? They don't have enough?"
"No, Sylvia. They have enough. Bringing food to share is an ancient social custom no longer remembered by much of human society, though it survives in many other races." Grandfather rumbled at her reassuringly. "It is a sign of friendship."
"Oh." Her brow cleared. "Oh! That will be a proper peer bonding activity, then. But what should I bring?"
"I will make a fresh batch of vegetable chips tonight while you are sleeping." Grandfather looked up as he accessed his chronometer. "But for now we should see about introducing you to some of the pot roast that I started cooking this morning. The mature stem should have absorbed the flavours properly and been broken down enough by the heat and moisture to make it palatable for you."
"I like your pot roasts, Grandfather." Sylvia pulled a dozy but contented Zeta Zelda out of the blanket nest, and then wondered where her other foot glove had gone. Unable to find an immediate answer to the question, she solved it in her own mind by kicking off the other foot glove and then holding it in her hand.
Then she settled onto the side table as Grandfather set her down and watched with quiet praying as he went through the ponderous and creaky process of being lifted from his chair. Once she was sure that he'd safely survived the ordeal she set Zeta Zelda down, found the missing foot glove, and then scooted down the table stairs and out of the room to get ready for supper.