The Vor Game
I went to the goodbye party of a young man I know who is going into the Air Force. There are a lot of reasons why I think this is a very bad idea -- he's a little on the fragile side, and there's my opinion of the military to begin with. Specifically, he aced the language aptitude test and they're going to train him as an airborne cryptographer. They said they'll train him in a "level four" language: he can't remember what they all are, but Arabic is one of them.
Arabic is a lovely language, spoken by a large number of interesting people spread all over the world. You can often talk to learned people in backward countries if you know Arabic.
I am so afraid they will ask him to interpret for interrogations.
So I got him Young Miles to read. As usual, I did it too late. I didn't realize he isn't allowed to take books to training camp -- he could take a Bible, though. But he has a day to read The Vor Game, and I hope he does. I want him to have young Miles on his mind. I want him to think, "So, I'm in the military, I will do this right, I will do it with honor, I will follow the law and not just the rules."
I don't know, though. They own him for six years, and for the first five weeks he's not allowed to read a book of his own.
And this is all my writing for today except
"When someone does us a great favor, we always like to favor them back," the Mustard Fairy went on. "We reward our followers for their loyal service with gifts and parties."
When Katie was trying to tell her kmother something, and she didn't understand the story, her mother would always ask her little questions like, "Really?" to keep her talking. That's how she got enough details to understand. SO Katie did the same thing with the Mustard Fairy.
"Really?" she asked. "Tell me more." Then she thought that maybe you had to be more polite with fairies than with mothers and daughters, so she added, "Please." Her mother had said it never hurts to be more polite than the situation calls for, so she should always be as polite as she knew how. just in case.
The Mustard Fairy laughed a fragrant yellow laugh. She reached out her small hand with its long golden fingernails and -- poked Katie in the nose. "Really, truly, every day and every night," she said. "We never forget a loyal follower of the Mustard Fairy and all my cohorts of the Continent of Condiments."
"Also known as Condimentia," said one of the smallest, oddest of the little people, who was a dark shiny green like the liquid in the bottle of cough medicine for night time. Katie felt a little burst of fierce heat when he spoke.
"There has been some confusion around that," added a wrinkly, more robust neighbor of his, who wore a skirt that was red in the same way as the other was green.
"Why?" Katie asked, always ready to be distracted by a new story.
"Oh, maybe we'll get to that later," said the Mustard Fairy. "For now, we're in a big hurry to escort our loyal follower home to Condimentia for the party."
Katie was disappointed. All this commotion and waking up in the middle of the night and the interesting little people were going to go away before she had even gotten started asking questions.
"It's a good thing you're wearing your day clothes," said the green person. "A lot of times, we come in at night, and we have to wait for our guest to change out of their pajamas."
"Worse," said a pale little man with large leaves in his hair. "Some of them are in the bathtub when we come!" He shuddered delicately, but the largest of the people, who hardly had any shape at all and had only the smallest little features on his wide blank face, said "Hush. You're wasting time!"
The little group started towards the screen door at the back. Katie watched them sadly. How would she ever get back to sleep? How unfair the world was, with no mustard and now no Mustard Fairy!
The Mustard Fairy turned around and stamped her foot. "Come on, Katie, you don't want to be late for your own party!"
And now it is tomorrow, and I have a lot to do tomorrow, not least of which is begin to look for work in earnest.
Arabic is a lovely language, spoken by a large number of interesting people spread all over the world. You can often talk to learned people in backward countries if you know Arabic.
I am so afraid they will ask him to interpret for interrogations.
So I got him Young Miles to read. As usual, I did it too late. I didn't realize he isn't allowed to take books to training camp -- he could take a Bible, though. But he has a day to read The Vor Game, and I hope he does. I want him to have young Miles on his mind. I want him to think, "So, I'm in the military, I will do this right, I will do it with honor, I will follow the law and not just the rules."
I don't know, though. They own him for six years, and for the first five weeks he's not allowed to read a book of his own.
And this is all my writing for today except
"When someone does us a great favor, we always like to favor them back," the Mustard Fairy went on. "We reward our followers for their loyal service with gifts and parties."
When Katie was trying to tell her kmother something, and she didn't understand the story, her mother would always ask her little questions like, "Really?" to keep her talking. That's how she got enough details to understand. SO Katie did the same thing with the Mustard Fairy.
"Really?" she asked. "Tell me more." Then she thought that maybe you had to be more polite with fairies than with mothers and daughters, so she added, "Please." Her mother had said it never hurts to be more polite than the situation calls for, so she should always be as polite as she knew how. just in case.
The Mustard Fairy laughed a fragrant yellow laugh. She reached out her small hand with its long golden fingernails and -- poked Katie in the nose. "Really, truly, every day and every night," she said. "We never forget a loyal follower of the Mustard Fairy and all my cohorts of the Continent of Condiments."
"Also known as Condimentia," said one of the smallest, oddest of the little people, who was a dark shiny green like the liquid in the bottle of cough medicine for night time. Katie felt a little burst of fierce heat when he spoke.
"There has been some confusion around that," added a wrinkly, more robust neighbor of his, who wore a skirt that was red in the same way as the other was green.
"Why?" Katie asked, always ready to be distracted by a new story.
"Oh, maybe we'll get to that later," said the Mustard Fairy. "For now, we're in a big hurry to escort our loyal follower home to Condimentia for the party."
Katie was disappointed. All this commotion and waking up in the middle of the night and the interesting little people were going to go away before she had even gotten started asking questions.
"It's a good thing you're wearing your day clothes," said the green person. "A lot of times, we come in at night, and we have to wait for our guest to change out of their pajamas."
"Worse," said a pale little man with large leaves in his hair. "Some of them are in the bathtub when we come!" He shuddered delicately, but the largest of the people, who hardly had any shape at all and had only the smallest little features on his wide blank face, said "Hush. You're wasting time!"
The little group started towards the screen door at the back. Katie watched them sadly. How would she ever get back to sleep? How unfair the world was, with no mustard and now no Mustard Fairy!
The Mustard Fairy turned around and stamped her foot. "Come on, Katie, you don't want to be late for your own party!"
And now it is tomorrow, and I have a lot to do tomorrow, not least of which is begin to look for work in earnest.