Chapter 2
The Ellsworths on Earth
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When Oliver Ellsworth got home from work, he told Abby and Tom that he needed to have a private word with Gemma. The kids knew what this meant: time to go to the spare room over the kitchen and listen in on the adults.
Gemma was Abby and Tom's grandmother. When they were little, Gemma pronounced that it was ridiculous to be called 'Grandma Gemma'; it was too much of a mouthful. Simply 'Gemma' would do fine. She was their Dad's mother and had helped to look after them ever since they'd been brought to America as toddlers.
Adults always had serious discussions in the kitchen, at least in the Ellsworth family. Several years ago, Tom and Abby had discovered that by opening the air vent in the floor of the spare bedroom located directly above the kitchen, the voices of those below could be easily heard. They had also discovered that listening in on other people was usually pretty boring. Still, a couple of weeks ago, their Dad had told them that there was a chance he might be asked to open an office on Gracchia in the city of Aurelia, the major trading center. He worked for an arbitration firm, which Dad said was like being a referee for businesses, enforcing the rules and making sure everyone played fair without hurting each other in court. Dad was a lawyer, too, but he said that arbitration worked much better and simpler as long as both sides really wanted to be fair.
Abby and Tom were dying to know if they were going to go to Gracchia. They had every right to listen in on a decision that would affect them, too. And after all, they were eleven years old now, well into the double digits. Sometimes it seemed like their Dad didn't realize how old they were.
"…think this disruption will hurt them?" Dad's voice drifted up through the vent.
Gemma's voice was crisp and no nonsense. "Absolutely not. Oliver, it's a chance in a lifetime, take it!"
Sounded like Dad had the job offer to go to Gracchia.
"It's just…kids need stability."
"And you've given them a wonderful home. Don't worry, they'll be fine." This time Gemma's voice was softer, gentler.
Words like soft and gentle weren't commonly applied to Gemma, though they loved her dearly. More apt word choices would be crisp and lively. Gemma hadn't lived with them for several years now. She'd moved into a low maintenance condominium complex several blocks away with a declared need for more independence, though she still stayed with Tom and Abby when Dad had to be out of town. Sometimes Abby thought that maybe Gemma had moved out so Dad would be more likely to get married again, but Tom thought Abby was being silly.
Both Abby and Tom had been adopted from the orphanages after the Blood War. America hadn't been involved in any official capacity until after the war, although there had been unofficial advisors. Dad had been a lawyer in the Army, stationed near Paris, and as luck had it, the American Army encampment was almost next door to a huge orphanage, jammed with the innocent victims of a vicious war. The GIs gave all they could spare to the children, and ultimately, many of the children were adopted.
Occasionally one of the kids at school would taunt them for being 'Blood Orphans,' the name given to all the adoptees, and for a while the odious Tracy Bulworth had taken to calling Abby "Little Orphan Abby," but usually neither Tom nor Abby gave it much thought. Oliver Ellsworth was the only father they'd ever known. Not being genetically related, they didn't look at all like brother and sister. Tom was big for his age, with thick, wavy blond hair and freckles. Abby was small with dark hair that was stick-straight and golden skin. The only part of them that matched, in fact, was their eyes: Both Tom and Abby had blue eyes. This looked especially remarkable on Abby, and every now and then someone would ask her if her eyes were 'real'.
Sometimes it seemed as if their father worried that their earliest years spent in an orphanage had somehow left them fragile, but the truth was that Tom didn't remember those years at all, and Abby just barely remembered the gentle women dressed in black, the good religious women who had run the orphanage. During the war, all electronic records had been wiped out forever by the electro-magnetic pulse bombs, and there was no way of finding out who Abby's and Tom's birth parents were or even to know which side of the war their parents had been on.
"Oliver, there's something else." Gemma's voice again. "There's talk that the Repatriation Act may still go through."
"Nonsense," Dad said, but his voice was worried. "I can't imagine that such a thing would ever pass."
"You know that feeling is running high in Europe right now; they feel like it's an issue of national pride. And there are people in this country who want to establish better relations again and think this is a necessary step."
Tom and Abby sat back, away from the vent, and looked at each other. This was awful. Dad had told them about the Repatriation Act because he didn't want them to hear about it from the kids at school who might have the facts straight but the interpretation wrong. He'd said that some of the people in Europe wanted the return of the war orphans. There were hysterical claims that somehow the Americans had stolen the children. "But I'd never let them do anything to us," he'd reassured them.
Abby and Tom leaned forward again. Now their Dad didn't sound quite so sure. "The law…," he began.
"The law is whatever they say it is. Listen, Oliver, I don't think this is much more than a lot of hot air, but why take the chance? You have the perfect opportunity to go to Gracchia, which by Macready's account is a wonderful place. And let all of this blow over."
Macready was one of Dad's old friends from when he was in the Army. He'd been among the first Humans to go live permanently on Gracchia and sometimes he'd send them funny little gifts from there. Both Abby and Tom really liked him.
Tom had been thrilled about the possibility of going to Gracchia, Abby hadn't been so sure. Going to another planet was scary. Away from Gemma, home, friends and school. Well, going away from school wasn't so bad. But the possibility that they might be forced to leave Dad and home and return to the orphanage or get adopted by some other family in another country, that was horrible.
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Dinner that night was especially healthful: stir-fried vegetables, tofu and brown rice with only a little chicken thrown in. Tom and Abby had different ways of coping with their Dad's obsession with healthy food. After dinner, Tom usually drew on the stash of candy kept in the back of his dresser drawer. Once, he'd put some peanut logs in a box under his bed, then forgot about them for eight months. When he'd finally remembered them, they'd looked like they were covered in moss. Abby usually tried to eat something before dinner like a peanut butter and jelly sandwich or anything she could cadge from Gemma before Gemma went home for the night.
Tonight, even if they hadn't eavesdropped, they would have known something was up. Dad had brought home two kinds of ice cream: chocolate with marshmallows and nuts and vanilla with a raspberry swirl and little chunks of milk chocolate. As they were eating their ice cream, Dad said, "Kids, you know I've mentioned that possibility of a job on Gracchia?"
Abby nodded, mouth full. "Yes, Dad," Tom said. The trick was going to be to look properly surprised.
"Well, I've decided to take the offer. We'll be traveling to the city of Aurelia on Gracchia in a month or so, after school lets out. We'll be living there for about a year, perhaps two at the most."
He continued, "We'll all need to get a Linguistic Mapping Device before we go."
Abby didn't have to feign surprise. She dropped her spoon on the floor, and Wilson the cat took a break from chasing bugs and came over to take a couple of cautious licks of vanilla.
"Cool! I can't wait to tell the guys I'm getting Limed!" Tom, at least, was enthusiastic.
"Limed?" Dad had never heard this term before.
"You know, L-M-D. Ling-something Mapping Device. The kids call it getting Limed," Tom explained.
Abby was distressed. "You mean that thing where they drill a hole in your head a
nd put in a computer in your brain?"
"Abby, do you remember last summer when you cracked your tooth on a cherry pit?" Dad was attempting misdirection.
Abby nodded. She had been eating cherry cobbler that Gemma had made when she bit down hard on a cherry pit. One of her molar teeth had cracked, and she'd had to spend over an hour in the dentist's chair while he re-bonded the tooth.
"Well, getting a Linguistic Mapping Device is much less of a procedure than that was. The doctor does have to make a tiny hole, then he inserts the LMD and places it on the part of your brain that's responsible for language. Then it puts down tiny little filaments and talks to your brain." Dad held up a grain of rice left over from dinner. "The LMD is about this big. It won't hurt, I promise you."
"Of course, they have to drill a hole in your head too," Tom added helpfully.
"A tiny hole," Dad's voice was firm.
Abby supposed anything was better than being sent back to Europe.
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The Linguistic Mapping Device was one of the devices that had been made possible by the revolution in quantum computers began by Nigel Wooster with the assistance of the Gracchus. The massive amount of information that could be stored and accessed in a small amount of space enabled a person with an LMD to understand the spoken range of any foreign or alien language that had been programmed into it. The LMD couldn't capture the subtleties of language, the facial expressions and body language, but it was an invaluable tool for anyone traveling to a planet with five other alien races.
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Abby had one further question as they were cleaning up after dinner.
"Dad, can Wilson come?" Abby loved their cat.
"Of course Wilson can come," Dad smiled and scratched behind Wilson's ears. "He's indispensable."
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