Chapter 18 - Expectations
“Wake up, Princess Kryslie!”
Delia shook her charge gently, then more vigorously.
“Wha…?”
“You must wake up. You are being summoned.”
Kryslie opened one eye, glanced at the timepiece and groaned.
“It’s still the middle of the night!”
“It is only an hour before your normal waking up time and you are required in the Conference Room.”
Kryslie did not want to move. Every muscle seemed to be stiff and sore from the lesson the previous evening. Her eyes felt as if they wanted to stay closed. Not surprising, considering the very late hour when she had finally fallen asleep.
With another groan, Kryslie sat up and swung her legs around to hang over the edge of the bed. While she practiced the pain blocking technique, Delia took the opportunity to brush Kryslie’s hair. The day’s clothes were waiting in a neat pile on a chair.
“I wish I had time for another of your massages,” Kryslie commented to Delia. “Though that would probably put me back to sleep. And President Reslic made it very clear that we were not allowed to slack off today. I wish – I didn’t have to go to this meeting.”
“It’s your duty as Heir Designate,” Delia chided.
“What about my privileges as Heir Designate? I’m a Princess and I am not even allowed to sleep in occasionally.”
“It’s your responsibility to learn all you can about what is happening in the world. Either you or your brother will succeed your father…”
“As far as I am concerned, the lowest apprentice gardener has more responsibility that I do,” Kryslie complained.
“That won’t always be the case,” Delia said primly.
“What’s the point anyway? Has there ever been a High Queen?”
Delia pursed her lips. “There has been a Queen Regent.”
“Big deal! Do you think I will have time for breakfast this morning?”
“You will be unacceptably late to this meeting if you don’t hurry.”
“Darned if I care!”
“Do you think it wise to provoke your elders today, Mistress? Particularly in light of your lesson yesterday?”
“Stop preaching, Delia.”
Delia noticed her mistress’s increased activity and said no more.
Kryslie arrived, as usual, within moments of her twin.
She grinned at her brother and heard in her mind, “How are you?”
“Well enough,” Kryslie grimaced as she thought her reply. “I dare say I got no more than I deserved and enough to get me to admit to the point. What about you?”
“A few more bruises,” Tymos shrugged.
They stopped communicating after the amplified request for all in attendance to come to order. Tymos and Kryslie found seats immediately behind their father in the outer row of seating. Tymoros glanced at them before taking his own seat.
Kryslie slumped into hers and wriggled, trying to get comfortable but she was sore in too many places. Shifting her weight caused her seat to creak faintly. It seemed though that no matter how she moved, something hurt and she needed to renew her mental pain blocking. If asked, she could not have said what the speakers were saying.
Tymos was at least able to pay attention, so that when asked for comments, he could answer for both of them. He hoped that he could shield his sister from more trouble.
Tymoros noticed the signs of inattention, but said nothing until there was a break in proceedings.
“Krys, they’ve found mutants in the hills and signs of aliens,” Tymos whispered quickly. “The second scout group will be returning and a party of the Tymorean Peace Corps will be going to do a thorough search of the area.”
“Good of you to bring your sister up to date, Tymos,” the High King said as he stood up and turned to face his children.
Tymos paled and Kryslie looked at her feet to hide a blush. Tymoros lifted her face up and studied her expression.
“Kryslie, I would like you to go and have a talk with your foster mother. You will find her in the nursery.”
Kryslie opened her mouth to protest, but Tymoros interrupted.
“Tymos can tell you all you need to know.”
“I’m not a child to be sent from the room! I just couldn’t get comfortable,” Kryslie objected in a low voice.
“Go to your mother. While you are there, I advise you to lose all the resentment you are nursing, or you will find yourself in trouble all day.”
With a muffled expletive, Kryslie strode away from her father and transmitted to the nursery.
Kryslie chose to arrive in the large day room, empty at that early hour. She recognised Tanya’s voice coming from a smaller side room and she walked in that direction.
As she entered the room, a baby began to cry. Soon, a second child echoed its exact tones.
“Kryslie,” Tanya greeted her warmly. “I didn’t expect you here. Isn’t there a meeting in the conference room?”
“Yes, but father sent me here as if I was a naughty child!”
Tanya understood; her foster daughter’s mood was obvious to her.
“Can you give me a hand for a moment?” she asked.
“Yes, of course,” Kryslie agreed. She had no argument with Tanya, who was a serene presence, glowing with health and now obviously pregnant.
Tanya picked up one of the crying babies and handed the wrapped bundle to Kryslie.
She was tentative about the task at first, because the child immediately began to scream louder. However, she copied Tanya’s example and walked around, gently patting the child’s back and rocking from side to side. The crying eased off, and then stopped.
“Come and sit down,” Tanya invited. “These two are teething at the moment and will settle better being held. Then you can tell me what is making you so angry.”
Kryslie found it easy to unburden her festering resentments to one that knew the value of actively listening without interrupting.
“They have to be hard,” Tanya said when Kryslie had stopped talking. “Sometimes they even have to inflict the ultimate punishment. There might come a time when you must. An Heir Designate can often represent the Governors.”
“I won’t be like them!” Kryslie vowed.
“It is to your credit that you think that way,” Tanya commended. “You haven’t had any experience of life outside the estate – no listen …”
Tanya put her free hand on Kryslie’s arm.
“I was born a commoner. I grew up in Delf, one of the cities. For the most part, the people in the cities are prosperous and peaceful, but there are the occasional malcontents that delight in causing trouble and the rare murderer. When you are older, after you have reached level Delta of course, you will be able to travel to the cities and towns. In the absence of higher authority, you would be asked to judge such people.”
“Tymos and I have no authority,” Kryslie complained. “Every one on this estate seems to have more than we do.”
“It may seem that way, but you and your brother are very important – to the world, to your father, to me and to everyone.”
Kryslie snorted quietly, not intending to be rude.
“Tymoros, as High King, must have heirs or the stability of the world is threatened. We can’t put you and your brother at risk or let you risk yourselves. Hence your attendants, the constant attention and the emphasis on you acting with thought and caution.”
The utter conviction and sincerity of her foster mother’s words overcome some of the conflicting resentments of that constant supervision and continuous pressure from her teachers.
“Soon enough, you will have a brother or sister. One who is already kicking strongly.”
Tanya paused, as the child within her increased its activity.
“Xyron has thirteen children, Jono has eleven. The lad you are holding is his youngest.”
“Is that why they are pushing us so hard?” Kryslie asked.
“No, they are p
ushing you as hard as you are capable of learning – for your own sake.”
Some time later, when Kryslie was again, settling the fretful child, she felt a hand on her shoulder. She jumped, before recognising the sense of her father.
“Young Ennis Reslic,” Tymoros recognised, causing Kryslie to look at him in amazement.
“How about putting him back in his cot and joining me for breakfast?”
Kryslie nodded and as she was settling the child, she heard her father asking after the other children in the room by name.
“It occurs to me,” Tymoros said when Kryslie rejoined him, “that you and Tymos should have some responsibility.”
Tymos, who was talking to Tanya, heard his name mentioned and looked up.
“One of the earliest lessons in discipline is the morning inspection. Follow!”
His meaning became clear as the King walked through the dormitories for each age group. Tymoros greeted each child by name and the King spoke to them in turn, praising or chiding as required. The children that slept in the nursery area were expected to have their bed and possessions tidy, whilst the children who slept with their parents but stayed in the nursery during the day were required to be neatly presented.
Mostly, the children in the nursery were too young to be having lessons in the small lyceum, though a small number of older children whose parents were missionaries did sleep there. These already knew them. All heard that the High Kings children, Prince Tymos and Princess Kryslie would be presiding at future morning inspections.
When the High King and his consort and children were back in their suite having breakfast, Tymoros spoke to Kryslie. “I sense you are more relaxed now.”
Kryslie looked up and saw no trace of censure in her foster father’s expression.
“Yes, I guess I am.”
“Do you wish to discuss your concerns?”
Kryslie was not sure that she wanted to. She shrugged. “I don’t know why but I just felt like I was being pushed around too much. Sometimes I just want to slack off and do something I want to do.”
“And now?” Tymoros prompted.
“Tanya explained some things to me. I will accept what she said as truth, even if I still don’t understand why. I mean, she says we are important, but I can’t see it. We weren’t even born here. Our instructors keep telling us we are too ignorant, too inexperienced, and too young – and then they seem to be pushing us all the time. Just us, not the rest of our level. I assumed it was because we came here when we were adolescent, but Jonko and Keleb are older than we are – and no one is pushing them, so what’s the rush?”
Tymoros was not going to tell his children what the Elders saw in their future.
“You are my heirs, and in a position to need to learn a great deal more than your fellows,” was all he said.
“Then why do I feel, sometimes, that we know more than the teachers on some subjects?” Kryslie finished.
“Perhaps we could test that feeling,” Tymoros suggested.
Kryslie didn’t react to the suggestion, just glanced at her brother and sighed. She had probably just let herself in for more strife.
Tymoros finished his breakfast and stood up. He walked over to a computer terminal and called up some data. He studied the screen for a while, and then quickly flicked through several more screens of data.
“There may be some merit in your comments,” Tymoros said thoughtfully. “I will suggest that your level be tested to see if any of you are ready to graduate up. However, it is time to go to your lessons now.”
The students of level Zeta were hard at work and were the only occupants of the large tiered hall. On this day, rather than sitting together on one of the lowest tiers, they spread out throughout the hall so that each could complete the series of tests on all of the subjects they had covered. If they did well enough they would graduate to the next higher level. Some of the number had only been there matter of weeks; others had been there for months. Not all would be ready to graduate after the testing.
The tests required proof of knowledge and use of logical thinking and they had the whole morning to complete them. However, halfway through the morning Tymos and Kryslie as well as Stenn had already finished.
Stenn Reslic put down his light pen and computer pad then looked around. The timepiece showed ten o’clock, so there were two hours before any of the instructors would return. He wouldn’t be able to use the terminals for private study of his structured basics; the instructors locked them out during testing.
He grinned wryly at himself. He had been annoyed when his father had insisted that he have extra lessons, but that was before he realised how fast Tymos was learning. Now, his aim was to keep up with his cousins. He had spent two idle years in level Theta and he’d gone into level Zeta after only six months in level Eta, and now he might be going up again in a similar time period. Well, his father ought to be impressed.
Thinking about his friends, Stenn glanced around. Tymos seemed to have finished. He’d put his pen down and was staring into space. Kryslie seemed to be fidgeting. Stenn wanted to fidget too. He liked to be busy, and seldom found himself with nothing to do. He wished he could go outside.
He thought back to the morning’s instructions. Nothing had been said about staying there once they’d finished and put their computer pads in the reader slots. All they were told had been that they had until twelve o’clock to submit the work.
Without conscious decision, Stenn began to edge his way around the room until he was in the tier just behind Kryslie.
“Psst!”
Kryslie looked around.
“I’ve finished, and I don’t want to sit around for two hours with nothing to do. We could keep ourselves usefully busy if we went outside and practiced that last tortuous exercise my father devised. Our teachers will be tied up until at least noon and we can be back by then.”
“No,” Kryslie said at once. She still felt the passionate conviction of Tanya’s reasons for them not to put themselves in danger. She said as much to Stenn.
“What danger?” Stenn asked. “True, every group usually has guards, but I have never heard of any time when they have been needed. Out there we can be busy, in here our minds are idle – isn’t that a greater danger?”
Kryslie felt the skin on the back of her neck prickle. Suddenly, she felt the need to be outside.
“Alright, then.”
Tymos sensed his sister’s approach and dropped out of a light meditative trance.
“What are you doing, Krys?”
She told him, and used the arguments Stenn had given her, adding, “Rather than being open to alien thoughts.”
“You’re right,” Tymos finally agreed.
“We can find a quiet spot in the gardens,” Stenn added, coming up next to them.
The three of them transmitted to the front of the room to submit their tests, then again to a paved area outside the large lyceum. They all glanced around, then Stenn urged, “Come on.”
He led them carefully around, past his father’s palace, avoiding servants walking from their residence to their workplace, into the thicket of trees between the lyceum and the servant’s garden. They saw another group of students and the associated guards and instructor and edged closer to the isolation building. Kryslie suddenly grabbed Stenn and whispered a warning as she pulled him deeper into a small grove of trees. “They have put guards around the Isolation Building.”
She indicated through the trees where the brown clad guards could be seen patrolling.
“I wonder what is going on.” Stenn whispered intently. “I didn’t hear Father mention anything.”
Tymos recognized the look of daring on his friends face.
“It is not our concern!” he warned his friend. “If we pass close to your father’s palace we can still reach the Palace Gardens unseen. We can go and find a quiet spot away from the other levels.”
“Where’s your sense of adventure?” Stenn challenged.
“On hold,
” Kryslie told him firmly. “Having your father prove to me how untrained I am, once in a week is enough.”
The trio moved further away from the patrolling guards and went in search of a suitable place to exercise. They saw a group of Level Gamma students and observed them for a time, remaining hidden from the two guards assigned to that part of the garden. They slipped into the tree barrier in front of the guard barracks and came suddenly upon a small group of six Level Alpha students. The students were facing away from them and were comparing of flora specimens. The three observers quietly slipped behind three trees. When they moved again, they were seen.
“Stenn!” a sharp voice spoke. “Come out at once!”
Stenn caught Tymos’s gaze and pulled a pained expression. They both recognized the voice of Gann Reslic, the most senior student. Stenn gestured for the others to stay put. He put his hands in his pockets and strolled out into his brother’s view with a carefully neutral expression on his face.
“The rest of you too!” Gann insisted.
Tymos and Kryslie emerged slowly recognizing the authority of the senior student.
“Why are you here?” Gann demanded, looking at his brother.
“We had finished the test. We thought that we could spend the time more usefully out here, practicing our lessons. We were looking for a quiet spot.”
“So why were you creeping from tree to tree?” Gann countered sharply.
“We didn’t want to disturb you!” Stenn said trying to look innocent. Gann was not impressed.
“You should know better!” Gann told him annoyed. “You know I’ll have to speak to father about this!”
Stenn shrugged pretending to be unconcerned.
Gann spoke to his fellow students. “See they stay here until I return.” He transmitted away. Two of the brown clad guards moved closer, watching, but not interfering.
“You may as well sit down,” one of the remaining students suggested. “It may be a long wait.”
“Maybe I should have let you speak,” Stenn whispered as he settled himself on the ground. “You two out rank him. He would have had to let us keep going.”
“Wouldn’t work,” Tymos countered. “He is senior student and we have no authority over anyone except the children in the nursery.”
“Sorry, then. I’ll tell Dad it was my idea.” Stenn suddenly chuckled quietly.
“If it was just me, Gann would’ve thumped me and dragged me back. He is such a stickler for rules. He won’t like interrupting Dad in conference.”
Neither, Kryslie nor Tymos found the idea amusing.
They wished intently that they could return to the lyceum, but as long as they were under the watchful eyes of the senior students, there was no leaving the gardens.
The time spent sitting on the grass waiting for judgment passed slowly, almost unbearably. Finally, after about half an hour, Gann returned.
To his brother he said. “Father wishes to see you, Stenn. He expects you at once.”
Tymos and Kryslie were told, “You are to return to the lyceum and wait until you are summoned.”
The summons came from Tymoros and he was waiting for them in his private sanctum. His manner was severe, and he kept them standing at attention. They had never seen him in this mood before.
“Your test results were extremely good,” he said coming straight to the point. “Academically you are ready to graduate to Level Epsilon. However, your lapse of discipline this morning indicates that you have not reached the degree of maturity required for the higher level. You did not have permission to leave before noon. It was intended that you would be fully occupied all morning. You could have put a lot more thought into the philosophical questions.”
“I stopped when my mind started thinking in circles,” Kryslie admitted. “I was feeling restless and felt I needed to be out and physically active.”
Tymoros turned his thoughtful gaze onto Tymos.
“I agreed because I have had it emphasised to me that we need to keep our minds busy,” Tymos supported his sister.
After a moment of consideration, Tymoros spoke again.
“There was a very important reason for keeping you busy until noon and for the extra security in the grounds. Your wanderings nearly put you into grave danger. Yes, the guards noticed your proximity to the isolation buildings! A small group of mutants arrived here today. The guards escorted them to the isolation building for evaluation. While I have a great deal of pity for these people, they are all unstable and many are mentally unbalanced. Had they managed to escape they would have had no hesitation in destroying you to ensure their freedom.”
“I’m sorry, Father,” Kryslie said looking away from him. “I noticed the extra guards but I never considered why.”
“We are so used to having guards and attendants around,” Tymos started to explain, but Tymoros cut him off.
“Will I need to insist that your teachers are more specific in their instructions?” Tymoros asked. His children flushed uncomfortably, trying not to resent the implication that they needed to be treated as if they were still in the Small lyceum.
“No, Sir,” Tymos assured him blushing and wishing he had trusted his instincts and insisted that they all stayed in the Large lyceum. It only then occurred to him that no group of students was ever completely alone in the various gardens during study hours. Attendants, guards or a teacher were always around; so what were they being guarded against?
“We have decided that you will complete a detention program before we allow you to go to the higher level. It will test your present capabilities to the utmost. You will begin this evening. And you will consider yourself restricted to walking, not using your transmitters.”
Tymos and Kryslie spoke together, “Yes, Father.”
Sensing his disappointment in them, they waited for his dismissal.
“That is all I am going to say on the matter.” Tymoros said sternly. “You may go!”