Sylvia Chapter 6 (WIP)
Sylvia's schedule soon included daily excursions to the homes of her new friends, though after the first day she no longer brought her computer pad because Grandfather had obtained Opa Riley's ancient communicator frequency and now appeared regularly in avatar form on the even more ancient small screen that hung in chunky but largely forgotten state on the living room wall. Mattias loved Grandfather's image of an elderly, white bearded human man with an eye patch, and would sit and watch him for hours, gripping his small fat toes as his dark eyes flicked from Opa Riley's face to Grandfather's simulated one. Sylvia missed most of what the old men said to one another, since they were speaking in a language that she had not yet learned- a nearly extinct dialect of Gaelic that had once hailed from a small island on Earth known as Ireland.
But Sylvia was too busy learning other things to fret overmuch about missing out on the Irish Gaelic. Things like how to take the round ball of compressed plant leaves that was a blue cabbage and turn it into a delicious roast stuffed with savoury filling, and how to take a piece of rough fabric and a length of yarn on a needle and make something pretty and unique while using only resources that would be easy to replace.
"Zough I don't vreally understand all ze concern about vresources," noted Hannah as she busily put together a new dress to replace one of the ones that she had literally outgrown overnight. "Ve get ze fiber from ze fields, metal is vrecycled und vrevorked..."
"Well." Sylvia looked up from her work, absently accepting a small piece of dried algae from Esther as she did so. "I don't think that mainstream people have that aquatic plant that makes paper. And the sand for silicon things needs to be shipped from off planet." She wriggled her toes, then looked down at her foot gloves.
"I'll make you some prettier shoes zat use ze resources here," said Esther, laughing her easy laugh. "Vhat colour vould you like?"
Sylvia startled and blinked at her friend with surprised eyes. "Oh, but I just got these, and they're not worn out at all."
Esther shook her head. "But vouldn't you like some like Mutter vears? I can make zem vith straps instead of ze ties zat go up ze ankles."
Sylvia hesitated, but then noticed how the copper-haired girl's hand was already yearning toward her work box. "Well. Alright. But I don't know what colour. I've always just worn drab."
"Blue," decided Esther, setting the box in her lap and poking through it after putting away what she'd been already working on. "Vhat is your suit made from? I can't tell."
"Microfiber made from recycled petroleum based plastics." Sylvia looked down at her embroidery and recounted her stitches before starting again.
"Plastic?" Hannah looked up with surprise, her nose wrinkling. "Vhy vould you vant to vear plastic? Zat is body material for mechvolk."
"It's inexpensive and recyclable..." Sylvia blinked. "Mech... folk?"
"Ja. Ze natives. Plastic und silicon are some of the zings zeir bodies are made from."
"Shifters," offered Esther without looking up from the crochet chain she was starting in a bright blue Kerelian cotton yarn. "Ze big volk."
"I... know what you mean," said Sylvia slowly. "I was just..." She blushed. "I'm sorry for assuming. But I thought you wouldn't know much about them."
Esther and Hannah both laughed, though the sound held no mockery.
"Ve are Archaists," said Esther cheerfully. "Ve do zings ze old vay und like old zings. Und ze mechvolk are very old!"
"You mean you know some of the natives?" Sylvia's eyes went round at the thought.
"Ja! Zough Vater und Mutter know zem better." Hannah laughed again. "Tante Velocia und Arcturus visit und speak vith zem sometimes."
Then she leaned forward curiously. "Your eyes, zey look like zey are glowing."
Sylvia meeped inwardly, but only blinked outwardly despite her sudden blush. "That's just how they look in the sunlight, because they're so pale."
"Ach. I've embarrassed you." Hannah frowned with sympathy and patted the shorter girl's hand. "Forgive me, bitte."
"No. It's okay. I'm not embarrassed." Sylvia rubbed her eyes, making sure that the lenses were in the right place, then looked down at her embroidery.
"Vould you like me to show you how to make zis into ze back bodice of another suit of clozing?" Hannah touched the fledgling project gently. "I zink sat I'd be able to adapt our dress pattern into somezing like you vear. Und Mutter vould dye some fabric a colour zat vould look pretty on you."
"I don't want to make extra work for Aunt Maria."
"Nein. She vould like to do it. My mutter likes to share," said Hannah proudly. "I'd dye it myself... but my fabric alvays comes out vith streaks yet, und streaks only look pretty on skirts."
Sylvia looked from Hannah's skirt to Esther's, then over at Hannah's grandmother's skirt where that lady hummed to herself contentedly over a sink full of suds and dishes. "Why... you're all wearing the same thing, only with different colours and decorations."
Esther looked up and over at Hannah, then toward Oma Riley.
"Ja, ve are today," she said, laughing. "I hadn't noticed zat ve'd all put on our Easter dresses."
"Tvins!" Hannah grinned, her eyes dancing.
"You like being dressed the same?" Sylvia was startled again.
"Ja. It's fun," said Esther, also grinning as she munched a piece of algae.
"Vhy are you so surprised?" asked Hannah curiously.
"Well... the girls at my old school used to get mad if they thought someone was dressed too much like them. They all wanted to be unique. They'd spend hundreds of credits on artist made unique garments and accessories so that no one else would have the same thing. Some of them even bought their shoes one at a time to be even more unique."
Hannah and Esther exchanged a glance, then laughed again.
"Ve're different even if our dress patterns aren't today," said Hannah. "Uniqueness ist how you're made, not how your clozing is made."
Then she looked up hopefully as Oma Riley walked past the window seat. "May I help you, Oma? Vith ze dishes?"
"Nein," said the elderly woman cheerfully, as she often did. "Today it is my turn to play qveen of ze kitchen. I vill make it look just as I like it, und zen your mutter vill come and put it back her vay."
"I need to learn too." Hannah laughed.
"Play vith your freundin." Oma Riley set to wiping the heavy table. "You tidied up zis morning."
"Yes, Oma." Hannah cheerfully turned back to Sylvia. "So, are ve making ze pretty suit?"
"I... alright," said Sylvia slowly, a hint of her smile pulling at the corners of her mouth even as the rest of her expression showed her surprise.
Then she looked down as Mariam came crawling over, knotted rag doll in tow. "Why do the babies go to Bible study?"
"Ze same vreason zat zey go to school," said Esther as she handed Hannah a rolled piece of ribbon tape with numbers embroidered on it.
"They go to school?" Sylvia's surprise returned.
"Ja. Ve take care of zem vhile ve're in class so zat our parents can vork vizout vorrying about zem," said Hannah.
"Poor Mariam vants to learn so badly, but she is too young yet for school lessons," said Esther softly, her blue eyes going to follow her baby cousin as the little one continued on her way across the room and into the hall.
"She's alvready trying to sing ze German ABC song." Hannah chuckled and then reached over to lay the tape along her newest friend's back.
"What are you doing?" asked Sylvia curiously, looking over her shoulder.
"Measuring you for your new cloze. Vill you lift your arm like so?" Hannah lifted her elbow, and then gave a little shriek of surprise as said limb neatly caught a newly arrived Stephan in the solar plexus and knocked the wind out of him with a whoosh. "Ach! Stepi, I'm sorry!"
He waved off her concern, bent double with his arms around his bruised stomach as he fought to regain his wind and laugh about the mishap. His lungs inflated abruptly with a squeak as Oma Riley came up behind him and gave him a gentle shake. "Owwww. Hahahaha. Danke, Oma!"
"Speak Common," she told him, laughing herself. "Silly boy. Vatch vhere you're valking."
"Ja, ja. Common." He sucked in another deep draught of air, then grinned at his sister and friends. "Has anyvone got any vool zat needs vinding?"
"Not vright now, Stepi." Hannah sighed with relief and resumed measuring Sylvia. "Ve vound it all ze ozer day."
"Und you don't need anymore yet? Vhat kind of girls are you, to leave so little vork for ze men?" Stephan laughed, then winced and rubbed his chest.
"You should go und let Tante Karen look at you to make sure zat you're alvright." Hannah shooed him away gently.
Sylvia smiled as she watched the siblings banter and Esther join in, then glanced out the window. "Eeeek! Naked person!"
"Vhat?" Hannah and Esther both froze and turned their faces away from the window. "Is it a man or a voman?"
"Man." Sylvia frowned over closed eyelids.
"Stephan, qvick! Do ve know zem?" urged Hannah.
The boy peeked cautiously, and then laughed. "It's Onkel Jordan. He has his breech cloth on."
"...Breech cloth?" Sylvia peeked and saw that the tall, golden brown man who was standing and talking to Hannah and Stephan's father was indeed clad in one of the primitive garments. "Oh..."
"He's a feral," explained Stephan. "Vone of ze people who vant to go back to ze simplest life und vish zat zey could live on a vorld vith forests like in ze old holos."
"Why don't they emigrate?" asked Sylvia curiously.
Hannah looked up from writing measurements in a notebook, her eyes blinking slowly. "Zey can't, Sylvia. No vone's allowed to leave zis planet. No humans. If ve could emigrate zen my family vould have gone somevhere else too, so zat Vater could grow zings in ze soil in ze oldest vay."
"What?" It was Sylvia's turn for confusion. "But the hosts never said we couldn't leave. They brought our ancestors here to save us, not to lock us up."
"Ze human authorities have declared emigration illegal, Vater says," said Hannah. "Vhen he protested zey said zat anyvone who asks to do it vill be put into a correctional facility. Zey said zat humanity ist nearly extinct, und zat ve must stay here vere it's safe."
"...That's not true," said Sylvia quietly. "Grandfather has told me that there are other humans in the galaxy, even some who left Earth so long ago that they can't remember it and no one knows when they did."
"How does Opa Paxton know zis?" asked Esther, leaning forward with a slight frown of interest.
"He's been off planet, and he listens to the native media channels."
The other children stared at her, then exchanged glances.
"He listens to... but zose are illegal for us, even if ve had ze sings to listen to zem vith!" said Hannah worriedly.
"Does your opa know mechvolk?" Stephan asked Sylvia curiously.
"He... did," she said slowly, wondering what was going to happen now. "But please, don't tell your native friends that. Grandfather needs to be left be."
"Ve von't tell zem zat, Sylvia. Don't vorry," said Oma Riley kindly from where she'd stopped to listen to the children when she noticed the worried voices and faces.
Sylvia let out a relieved breath. "Thank you. But you should tell your native friends what the authorities are saying. The natives believe in freedom for all people, and I don't think they'll like those laws."
"Ja," said Oma Riley. "Zey are keeping ze freedom only for zemzelves, aren't zey? Hmmm."
One aged but strong hand gently squeezed Sylvia's shoulder, and then the elderly woman went to talk to her husband, who was currently in the living room discussing the tossing of a soft ball up into the air for the riotous amusement of Mattie.
"Do you zink zey vill care, Hannah?" asked Stephan uncertainly, his hands sneaking into his sister's work box even as his eyes sought out hers for reassurance.
"Zey seem like nice volk." Hanna looked to Sylvia.
"I... don't know," admitted Sylvia quietly. "Grandfather knows a lot more about them than I do.
"I zink... zat you are not telling us all zat you know," said Hannah gently. "But zat ist alvright. I vill pray, und Got vill let happen vhat He vants."
"Ja. I'll pray too," said Esther, nodding without looking up from her rapidly taking shape project.
"Und so vill I." Stephan grinned from where he was winding the yarn he'd taken from Hannah's box between two legs of the table.
"Are you making a doll?" That elder sister lifted a brow at him.
"Ja. Vhy not. Sylvia has not got vone of zis kind, I bet." He grinned, though concern still showed slightly in his eyes. "I vill make it big enough to hug und dress." Then he glanced toward their visitor. "You don't haf a doll braided from yarn yet, do you, Sylvia?"
"No. Actually I just have an old furry soft doll, and Zeta Zelda." She watched him curiously.
"Zen zis vone ist yours." He grinned again and resumed his work.
But Sylvia was too busy learning other things to fret overmuch about missing out on the Irish Gaelic. Things like how to take the round ball of compressed plant leaves that was a blue cabbage and turn it into a delicious roast stuffed with savoury filling, and how to take a piece of rough fabric and a length of yarn on a needle and make something pretty and unique while using only resources that would be easy to replace.
"Zough I don't vreally understand all ze concern about vresources," noted Hannah as she busily put together a new dress to replace one of the ones that she had literally outgrown overnight. "Ve get ze fiber from ze fields, metal is vrecycled und vrevorked..."
"Well." Sylvia looked up from her work, absently accepting a small piece of dried algae from Esther as she did so. "I don't think that mainstream people have that aquatic plant that makes paper. And the sand for silicon things needs to be shipped from off planet." She wriggled her toes, then looked down at her foot gloves.
"I'll make you some prettier shoes zat use ze resources here," said Esther, laughing her easy laugh. "Vhat colour vould you like?"
Sylvia startled and blinked at her friend with surprised eyes. "Oh, but I just got these, and they're not worn out at all."
Esther shook her head. "But vouldn't you like some like Mutter vears? I can make zem vith straps instead of ze ties zat go up ze ankles."
Sylvia hesitated, but then noticed how the copper-haired girl's hand was already yearning toward her work box. "Well. Alright. But I don't know what colour. I've always just worn drab."
"Blue," decided Esther, setting the box in her lap and poking through it after putting away what she'd been already working on. "Vhat is your suit made from? I can't tell."
"Microfiber made from recycled petroleum based plastics." Sylvia looked down at her embroidery and recounted her stitches before starting again.
"Plastic?" Hannah looked up with surprise, her nose wrinkling. "Vhy vould you vant to vear plastic? Zat is body material for mechvolk."
"It's inexpensive and recyclable..." Sylvia blinked. "Mech... folk?"
"Ja. Ze natives. Plastic und silicon are some of the zings zeir bodies are made from."
"Shifters," offered Esther without looking up from the crochet chain she was starting in a bright blue Kerelian cotton yarn. "Ze big volk."
"I... know what you mean," said Sylvia slowly. "I was just..." She blushed. "I'm sorry for assuming. But I thought you wouldn't know much about them."
Esther and Hannah both laughed, though the sound held no mockery.
"Ve are Archaists," said Esther cheerfully. "Ve do zings ze old vay und like old zings. Und ze mechvolk are very old!"
"You mean you know some of the natives?" Sylvia's eyes went round at the thought.
"Ja! Zough Vater und Mutter know zem better." Hannah laughed again. "Tante Velocia und Arcturus visit und speak vith zem sometimes."
Then she leaned forward curiously. "Your eyes, zey look like zey are glowing."
Sylvia meeped inwardly, but only blinked outwardly despite her sudden blush. "That's just how they look in the sunlight, because they're so pale."
"Ach. I've embarrassed you." Hannah frowned with sympathy and patted the shorter girl's hand. "Forgive me, bitte."
"No. It's okay. I'm not embarrassed." Sylvia rubbed her eyes, making sure that the lenses were in the right place, then looked down at her embroidery.
"Vould you like me to show you how to make zis into ze back bodice of another suit of clozing?" Hannah touched the fledgling project gently. "I zink sat I'd be able to adapt our dress pattern into somezing like you vear. Und Mutter vould dye some fabric a colour zat vould look pretty on you."
"I don't want to make extra work for Aunt Maria."
"Nein. She vould like to do it. My mutter likes to share," said Hannah proudly. "I'd dye it myself... but my fabric alvays comes out vith streaks yet, und streaks only look pretty on skirts."
Sylvia looked from Hannah's skirt to Esther's, then over at Hannah's grandmother's skirt where that lady hummed to herself contentedly over a sink full of suds and dishes. "Why... you're all wearing the same thing, only with different colours and decorations."
Esther looked up and over at Hannah, then toward Oma Riley.
"Ja, ve are today," she said, laughing. "I hadn't noticed zat ve'd all put on our Easter dresses."
"Tvins!" Hannah grinned, her eyes dancing.
"You like being dressed the same?" Sylvia was startled again.
"Ja. It's fun," said Esther, also grinning as she munched a piece of algae.
"Vhy are you so surprised?" asked Hannah curiously.
"Well... the girls at my old school used to get mad if they thought someone was dressed too much like them. They all wanted to be unique. They'd spend hundreds of credits on artist made unique garments and accessories so that no one else would have the same thing. Some of them even bought their shoes one at a time to be even more unique."
Hannah and Esther exchanged a glance, then laughed again.
"Ve're different even if our dress patterns aren't today," said Hannah. "Uniqueness ist how you're made, not how your clozing is made."
Then she looked up hopefully as Oma Riley walked past the window seat. "May I help you, Oma? Vith ze dishes?"
"Nein," said the elderly woman cheerfully, as she often did. "Today it is my turn to play qveen of ze kitchen. I vill make it look just as I like it, und zen your mutter vill come and put it back her vay."
"I need to learn too." Hannah laughed.
"Play vith your freundin." Oma Riley set to wiping the heavy table. "You tidied up zis morning."
"Yes, Oma." Hannah cheerfully turned back to Sylvia. "So, are ve making ze pretty suit?"
"I... alright," said Sylvia slowly, a hint of her smile pulling at the corners of her mouth even as the rest of her expression showed her surprise.
Then she looked down as Mariam came crawling over, knotted rag doll in tow. "Why do the babies go to Bible study?"
"Ze same vreason zat zey go to school," said Esther as she handed Hannah a rolled piece of ribbon tape with numbers embroidered on it.
"They go to school?" Sylvia's surprise returned.
"Ja. Ve take care of zem vhile ve're in class so zat our parents can vork vizout vorrying about zem," said Hannah.
"Poor Mariam vants to learn so badly, but she is too young yet for school lessons," said Esther softly, her blue eyes going to follow her baby cousin as the little one continued on her way across the room and into the hall.
"She's alvready trying to sing ze German ABC song." Hannah chuckled and then reached over to lay the tape along her newest friend's back.
"What are you doing?" asked Sylvia curiously, looking over her shoulder.
"Measuring you for your new cloze. Vill you lift your arm like so?" Hannah lifted her elbow, and then gave a little shriek of surprise as said limb neatly caught a newly arrived Stephan in the solar plexus and knocked the wind out of him with a whoosh. "Ach! Stepi, I'm sorry!"
He waved off her concern, bent double with his arms around his bruised stomach as he fought to regain his wind and laugh about the mishap. His lungs inflated abruptly with a squeak as Oma Riley came up behind him and gave him a gentle shake. "Owwww. Hahahaha. Danke, Oma!"
"Speak Common," she told him, laughing herself. "Silly boy. Vatch vhere you're valking."
"Ja, ja. Common." He sucked in another deep draught of air, then grinned at his sister and friends. "Has anyvone got any vool zat needs vinding?"
"Not vright now, Stepi." Hannah sighed with relief and resumed measuring Sylvia. "Ve vound it all ze ozer day."
"Und you don't need anymore yet? Vhat kind of girls are you, to leave so little vork for ze men?" Stephan laughed, then winced and rubbed his chest.
"You should go und let Tante Karen look at you to make sure zat you're alvright." Hannah shooed him away gently.
Sylvia smiled as she watched the siblings banter and Esther join in, then glanced out the window. "Eeeek! Naked person!"
"Vhat?" Hannah and Esther both froze and turned their faces away from the window. "Is it a man or a voman?"
"Man." Sylvia frowned over closed eyelids.
"Stephan, qvick! Do ve know zem?" urged Hannah.
The boy peeked cautiously, and then laughed. "It's Onkel Jordan. He has his breech cloth on."
"...Breech cloth?" Sylvia peeked and saw that the tall, golden brown man who was standing and talking to Hannah and Stephan's father was indeed clad in one of the primitive garments. "Oh..."
"He's a feral," explained Stephan. "Vone of ze people who vant to go back to ze simplest life und vish zat zey could live on a vorld vith forests like in ze old holos."
"Why don't they emigrate?" asked Sylvia curiously.
Hannah looked up from writing measurements in a notebook, her eyes blinking slowly. "Zey can't, Sylvia. No vone's allowed to leave zis planet. No humans. If ve could emigrate zen my family vould have gone somevhere else too, so zat Vater could grow zings in ze soil in ze oldest vay."
"What?" It was Sylvia's turn for confusion. "But the hosts never said we couldn't leave. They brought our ancestors here to save us, not to lock us up."
"Ze human authorities have declared emigration illegal, Vater says," said Hannah. "Vhen he protested zey said zat anyvone who asks to do it vill be put into a correctional facility. Zey said zat humanity ist nearly extinct, und zat ve must stay here vere it's safe."
"...That's not true," said Sylvia quietly. "Grandfather has told me that there are other humans in the galaxy, even some who left Earth so long ago that they can't remember it and no one knows when they did."
"How does Opa Paxton know zis?" asked Esther, leaning forward with a slight frown of interest.
"He's been off planet, and he listens to the native media channels."
The other children stared at her, then exchanged glances.
"He listens to... but zose are illegal for us, even if ve had ze sings to listen to zem vith!" said Hannah worriedly.
"Does your opa know mechvolk?" Stephan asked Sylvia curiously.
"He... did," she said slowly, wondering what was going to happen now. "But please, don't tell your native friends that. Grandfather needs to be left be."
"Ve von't tell zem zat, Sylvia. Don't vorry," said Oma Riley kindly from where she'd stopped to listen to the children when she noticed the worried voices and faces.
Sylvia let out a relieved breath. "Thank you. But you should tell your native friends what the authorities are saying. The natives believe in freedom for all people, and I don't think they'll like those laws."
"Ja," said Oma Riley. "Zey are keeping ze freedom only for zemzelves, aren't zey? Hmmm."
One aged but strong hand gently squeezed Sylvia's shoulder, and then the elderly woman went to talk to her husband, who was currently in the living room discussing the tossing of a soft ball up into the air for the riotous amusement of Mattie.
"Do you zink zey vill care, Hannah?" asked Stephan uncertainly, his hands sneaking into his sister's work box even as his eyes sought out hers for reassurance.
"Zey seem like nice volk." Hanna looked to Sylvia.
"I... don't know," admitted Sylvia quietly. "Grandfather knows a lot more about them than I do.
"I zink... zat you are not telling us all zat you know," said Hannah gently. "But zat ist alvright. I vill pray, und Got vill let happen vhat He vants."
"Ja. I'll pray too," said Esther, nodding without looking up from her rapidly taking shape project.
"Und so vill I." Stephan grinned from where he was winding the yarn he'd taken from Hannah's box between two legs of the table.
"Are you making a doll?" That elder sister lifted a brow at him.
"Ja. Vhy not. Sylvia has not got vone of zis kind, I bet." He grinned, though concern still showed slightly in his eyes. "I vill make it big enough to hug und dress." Then he glanced toward their visitor. "You don't haf a doll braided from yarn yet, do you, Sylvia?"
"No. Actually I just have an old furry soft doll, and Zeta Zelda." She watched him curiously.
"Zen zis vone ist yours." He grinned again and resumed his work.