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(Jenny was startled when Chidwi leapt up onto her shoulder. Chidwi had been frolicking in the garden, as she often did when Jenny was reading.
“Jenny, your tummy is unhappy,” Chidwi sent, sounding a lot like a mama scolding her child. “You haven’t eaten your supper. I know reading about Lizzie and Ynni is nice. You are learning many things. But Lizzie and Ynni would be upset with you if you made yourself sick by not eating. Come. Eat supper on the patio in the open air. Breathe. Remember breathing?”
Jenny blushed and marked her place, taking care not to damage any of the delicate yellowed pages. It occurred to her that Chidwi had gotten some instructions from Burt about her. Although she knew this was for her own good and they cared about her, it still was a bit humbling to know that she needed such care.
She certainly was intensely absorbed in reading the journals, even more so now that so much depended on her and her future decisions. She felt that the one way she could continue her training while recuperating from “the shout” was by vicariously experiencing Lizzie’s journey as an agent and a gate guardian. Perhaps at some point she would have enough experience on her own, but for now she was entirely dependent on the experience and understanding of others around her.
Her own recent history had taught her that she might not always have the benefit of easy contact with her advisors in every situation, however, so she was anxious to move forward as quickly as she could in her training, even if it was mostly “on the job.”
She obediently followed Chidwi out to the patio, where Lizziebot had laid the little table with a salad, a sandwich, and her favorite pink lemonade, still cold, with condensation running down the sides of the glass.
As Jenny sat there and watched Chidwi perch herself on the opposite side of the table in front of a bowl of fruit and raw vegetables, she sighed. As was her habit, she took a moment of silence to show appreciation for the meal that was laid before her and for the many blessings of her life.
And despite all of the adventures she had personally experienced so far, she did indeed feel blessed. Despite a lot of pain, uncertainty, and the fright she had gone through in the short time since she was first handed the keys to the little house on Infinity Loop, she had still gotten so much out of it.
She and Burt had found one another. She had many great and faithful friends and colleagues. She had connected with Tarafau and his family on a very personal level. She had become great friends with Bob, her “bonus dad,” as he called himself. In fact, she realized that despite all of the seemingly negative things she had been through, she was actually much better off than she had been.
And then there was Sam. Such a sad outcome to what Jenny once thought had been a friendship so close that she thought of Sam as more like a sister than just a friend. True, in the end, Sam had done the only thing she could think of to redeem herself; and Jenny knew, via Miriha, that Sam had felt deep remorse before she had sacrificed herself to destroy the evil Gall. Nevertheless, she couldn’t help to continue to mourn the loss of her friend on both levels.
Now, as she ate her lunch, with Chidwi munching delicately and happily across from her, she couldn’t help but wish that at least that part of her adventure had been different.
“Jenny is sad, but she is loved. The sun is shining, and Sam is only continuing her journey in a different dimension. Jenny wants Sam to be happy, yes? Sam is moving forward to her own happiness, and someday Jenny will know this.”
Jenny cocked her head. “You understand these things much better than I do, Chidwi. How is it that your people know so much?”
“Linklings are born with good thoughts and good memories. We hear the minds around us and we are given the memories of our past parents and their parents down marches of time. Humans must learn these things. We are born with them. You will know when you are ready and when you choose to remember.”
Jenny shook her head. She often felt like Chidwi was so much wiser and smarter than she could ever be, even though she was extremely meek and humble in her approach to Jenny.
Chidwi chuckled her giggly little laugh. “Jenny is smart. Jenny is good. You will see. Chidwi chose Jenny because we need one another. You will see...” she repeated, and Jenny couldn’t help but smile.
As she finished her meal and collected the plates and utensils to take into the kitchen, Chidwi sprang up onto her shoulder, crooning happily to herself.
Jenny stopped and stretched, realizing that Chidwi had advised breathing and that she hadn’t done her breathing exercises at all today in her rush to get back to the journal. So, she sat cross legged on the floor, settled into a relaxed position and breathed, taking herself deep into her REM state. By the time she came out of it, she did feel much more rested and energized.
She got back into her chair and picked up the journal, feeling much better prepared to find out what happened next.)
Lizzie placed the little seedling gently into the slot with soft rubbery sides, taking care to be sure the tiny roots were properly submerged into the nutrient solution. A long row of these extended down the planting room. Reloi worked across the planter from her.
“How often do you do this?” she asked, noticing how his seedlings seemed to float of their own volition into the slots in front of him. She really wished she could get the hang of the whole mind kinetics thing he was trying to teach her.
“Except in planting season, the plants generally only need weekly tending, mostly checking for those things that are ready to harvest. Of course, this kind of farming eliminates the need for pest control or weeding.
“Planting season for each type of plant varies. For instance, some vegetables like the leafy kind used in salads are harvested a leaf at a time at need. Some need to be harvested monthly or weekly, and often we do sequential planting that spaces a planting a few weeks apart to give a continual supply of a particular vegetable that doesn’t keep well.
“Generally, the way we do things means we don’t need much in the way of preservation or refrigeration, as we nearly always harvest the vegetables directly from the aquaponics to the kitchen.
“Obviously, some things, such as fruiting trees that require more space and need to be in soil, have their own planting and harvest times. Those things still need to be preserved, most often dehydrated or freeze dried for out of season use.”
Lizzie nodded. She found the planting a peaceful activity, allowing her to enjoy the atmosphere of the plants at different stages all around her while allowing her mind to engage in other things.
This had become part of her morning routine. Ynni perched happily on her shoulder, crooning softly to herself, something she tended to do when contemplating things, she didn’t always share with Lizzie.
As they completed their task and moved up into the hallway of the apartment building leading to Lizzie and Tarafau’s apartment, they met Tarafau coming through the main door from the outside. He had gone out to help with a detail that had been clearing an area just outside the town for a new school building. It appeared that the town was growing, albeit somewhat slowly compared to what Lizzie had seen on Earth.
“Workout and then showers,” Tarafau sent. They all trooped into the community room of the apartment, a place where the occupants could engage in various recreational activities or just sit and talk or read. This time of the morning, the room was usually vacant as the other occupants were engaged in work and school activities.
The outer edges of the room held furniture arranged for conversation groups while the inner part of the floor was empty, a perfect place for Tarafau, Lizzie, and Reloi to do their breathing exercises and then for Tarafau and Lizzie to do their quarterstaff forms. They didn’t spar here, as Reloi’s people were pacific and wouldn’t have understood the need.
They did go out and do a jog around the town square afterwards. By the time they had returned, showered, and dressed, it was still early in the day. They had a meeting with the supervisors of the educational system today, something Lizzie had been looking forward to.
Ynni and Tanata had evidently become good friends in the short time they had been here and now chittered to one another, somehow having overcome the need for mindspeech. It was funny to see them, both so very different from each other and so accepting of their differences. Lizzie found herself wishing the citizens of Earth could learn that one important mindset.
When they were ready to go, Ynni and Tanata resumed their usual perches on Lizzie and Reloi, and the four of them, along with Tarafau, set out to meet with what Lizzie kept thinking of as the “school board.”
They arrived on a very interesting campus. Somehow Lizzie had expected it to be much like her college campus at home, but every age range seemed to be accommodated here. From the youngest children (what she might have thought of as nursery school) up to students who seemed to be obviously more the same age as Lizzie, and even some students who appeared to be well past middle age.
They walked into the administration building, which also housed a gymnasium that doubled as an auditorium. The few offices at one end of the large building didn’t seem to be very exclusive or impressive. The office they were escorted into looked a lot like Professor Cormier’s little office, only slightly larger, enough that they all could find chairs around a conference table.
There wasn’t a lot of shine or polish, but the furniture was well made and looked like it was fairly old, worn by much use.
The man and woman who greeted them were dressed in the usual flowing garments she had seen on nearly every resident of the town so far. Lizzie had to guess that the work clothes of laborers and farmers were probably a bit more utilitarian.
“Greetings,” the male sent. “I am Glath, and this is Beleen. We are honored to have you here, Lizzie, Tarafau, Reloi, and friends. Today you will have an opportunity to see what we are doing to educate and help our people progress and hopefully to survive. I am sure you will have many questions, but I ask you to hold them until we finish the tour.”
“We would ask you to sit,” sent Beleen, “but we have a lot to see today and want to give you plenty of time to meet the students and see the full range of our facilities. This is important, as your first assignment as an Alliance intern will be to teach some classes in those things that are allowed by the Alliance precepts.”
Lizzie was stunned. Me? Teach? What? She was grateful for her training in keeping her emotions concealed, for she was sure, if she had not been paying attention, pure shock would have shown on her face. Ynni sent her a mental chuckle, and Lizzie almost swatted at her for it.
Their hosts gestured back towards the door, and they proceeded immediately out of the admin building across the campus to another building obviously housing classrooms.
The first class was of the nursery level, but to Lizzie’s surprise, there were not just a couple of nursery teachers, but several young people of varying ages interacting enthusiastically with the little ones. Some were reading to a circle of entranced listeners seated on a carpet. Some were building with blocks, and others were playing some kind of game that involved a lot of jumping up and down and giggling.
“We have found that one of the best ways to thoroughly learn something is to teach it to someone else. For the most part, our teachers take it in turns to instruct directly and then to supervise other students as they teach in small groups the various disciplines.”
As they stood there, one of the little girls looked up from her blocks, looking directly at Lizzie. She jumped up and ran full tilt at Lizzie, her arms outstretched as she leapt up into Lizzie’s arms, throwing her arms around Lizzie’s neck and wrapping both legs around her waist. Lizzie had opened her arms reflexively at the last second as she realized what the girl was about to do. Now she stood, frankly dumbfounded, returning the enthusiastic embrace.
Ynni had jumped down from Lizzie’s shoulder, chirruping in surprise, and the rest had just laughed at Lizzie’s surprise and delight.
“Izzie!” the little one said aloud. Then in rapid mindspeech, “We knew you were coming. We practiced your name. Did I do it right?”
“Very well done. And what is your name?”
“I am Ephreni. I have five annuals now. We are glad you are here. Will you stay with us for a very long time?”
“I will be here for a while, and then I must return to my own home. But thank you for your welcome. It makes me happy to be here with you.” And to her own surprise she knew she meant that sincerely.
She set Ephreni down gently, looking into wide violet eyes and noting that her hair was so white as to be nearly transparent. Other than that, she could have been any Earth child of five years old. Lizzie looked around her in astonishment. This was very different from any Earth school she had ever experienced or heard about.
“Would you like to help us show Lizzie the rest of the school, Ephreni? It can be your lesson in Socials today,” Glath sent.
Ephreni beamed the kind of smile that can only be generated by the pure and honest soul of a child. “May I? That would be wonderful!” Then to Lizzie, “Would that be all right with you?”
“Of course, Ephreni. I would like that.” Lizzie replied, impressed with the courteous question from such a young one.
Beleen gestured for them to follow her out the door into the hallway. As they emerged, a classroom appeared to be exiting a few doors down the hallway. Lizzie hadn’t heard any bells ringing nor noticed any other classes leaving their rooms. She asked about class schedules, having forgotten about holding her questions to the end.
But Beleen answered her calmly. “Classes are taught in a modular fashion with breaks in between modules. These breaks are determined by the instructors. There is no firm schedule, with the exception of the midday meal and the beginning of classes in the morning. The only time you will see all of the students out and about at the same time will be when we do a joint activity, usually once every week.”
Mindspeech interpreted week as a division of time periods, but not necessarily seven days, as on the Earth calendars. In the case of this planet, a week was the vague equivalent of nine Earth days. There were five weeks in their equivalent of a month. Tarafau’s planet was similar, but with 8 days in a week and 5 of their weeks in a month. And in both cases the days varied in length.
Lizzie was sure there must be some way of coordinating all of these time differences in some kind of usable reference format. She made a mental note to ask Tarafau about it when she got the chance.
As they walked down the corridor, they entered what seemed like another random door. This room was something Lizzie recognized immediately as a library. Books (actually rolled scrolls) lined shelved walls, and many students sat at tables and in random chairs reading and writing quietly. It seemed to be a common theme among every culture with a written language to collect stories and reference materials in a public place.
Of course, not all people in any given culture had access to massive libraries such as the fabled Alexandria library, extending those privileges to only a few scholars and government officials. Lizzie had noticed, however, that cultures that made learning accessible to all citizens seemed to thrive in ways that those who restricted learning did not.
She looked around in awe, realizing that in a way she was restricted by her lack of understanding of the language these books were written in, and she began to understand how much her own literacy meant to her. She vowed, when she had time to spend on Earth, to use some of her resources to make literacy more accessible to more people in more places.
“Every school in every town in our planet has a library such as this, and even the parents of students and other citizens have access to every book we have on our shelves,” Baleen explained, seeing Lizzie’s longing look.
Sure enough, as Lizzie continued to look around, she realized, to her surprise, that some of those she had thought were students were actually mature adults.
They didn’t pause here as much as Lizzie would have liked to, but she noticed the library had a space devoted to small children and some who looked to be of preschool age were sitting in a circle on the floor listening with wide eyes as an adult, dressed a little more colorfully than most of the adults Lizzie had met so far, told them a story with wide gestures and animated facial expressions.
They went from classroom to classroom, pausing to listen and watch the various activities for different age groups. Some of the classrooms looked almost typical of what Lizzie was used to at home, but she discovered that those classrooms were used only for studying individually, not for instruction. Students circulated in and out of these classrooms as needed at any given time.
As they paused in front of the admin building before viewing the Physical Education areas, Lizzie asked, “And what do you expect me to teach here? I have no teaching credentials worth mentioning.”
“Credentials? What does that have to do with teaching? We have no dedicated or professional instructors here. Everyone in the community takes a turn, a month at a time, to teach here. Each brings with them their own experiences, skills, and wisdom. We teach not only thinking and basic skills, but life skills that will be necessary regardless of their future vocation,” Beleen remarked, her eyes widening. “It is not so on your world?”
Lizzie shook her head, almost embarrassed to admit it. The way Beleen had put it, it seemed so obvious that this was the way to do it. Lizzie could see that each way had its merits, and she still had nothing but respect and gratitude for the professional teachers in her life.
They all tramped to the large, cleared field behind the school where people were working out. Some were playing a game with a large ball about two feet in diameter, rolling it back and forth with hands and feet in some kind of maze-like pattern cut into the sward. Others were doing what looked like a construction project, assembling the framework for a building.
“What is that?” Lizzie asked, pointing at the construction project. It reminded her of a rather expanded version of woodshop classes from her high school.
“They are building muscles, improving motor skills, and learning the rewards of effort and persistence. At some point, the walls they are constructing will be taken to a building site and assembled into a usable structure; a home or shop or other building needed by the community. When it is done, they will be invited to the dedication of the building as one of the contributors.”
Lizzie didn’t know what to say. This was so very different from what she had expected. She could see where some of these principles could be very useful and effective if some of the educational communities on Earth chose to adopt them. And, since this wasn’t technology, perhaps it would be okay for her to share them at some point with someone on Earth who had some influence.
Reloi, who had been somewhat subdued during the tour, now spoke up. “I was thinking perhaps you could teach them something about your music, Lizzie. Also, I think they would enjoy interacting with Ynni and learning about the concept of a close-knit tribal community.”
“Music teacher? Me? I only doodle on the mbira, Reloi. I know practically nothing about music theory.”
“Ah, and do you think that is so necessary? Perhaps you can teach them how to feel the music. Perhaps you can teach them to do as you have done. Obviously, making music isn’t dependent on classical music training; otherwise, how would you have created such a loyal following in your concerts under ‘our tree’?”
Glath’s nearly transparent eyebrows shot up. “Music? Our students would love this. Could you give us a sample?”
“Play here? Now? I don’t have my instrument with me.” Lizzie fibbed, not wanting to extract it from the MDP in a public place.
“Then perhaps we will do a gathering tomorrow early on. It may inspire the students in their later classes,” Beleen said, and as if she knew this was somewhat embarrassing to Lizzie, she continued with a mischievous glint in her eyes, “I’m sure it will be instructive, regardless of your own opinion of your skill level. Remember that the role of a teacher is to expose students to new ideas, not to decide what they choose to do with the information you give them. Who knows where this may take some of them in the future?”
“Yes, please!” Ephreni sent excitedly. “Please will you play for us tomorrow?” Her bright eyes peered earnestly into Lizzie’s in a way that Lizzie could not say no.
“All right, I will. But I cannot guarantee how it will be received. I am myself only a musical doodler, as I said. I will do my best.”
“Which is all any of us would ever expect from you or any other being,” agreed Glath. “Now that we have shown you the main areas of the school, I am sure you have questions, and we hope we will have answers for you. Let’s adjourn to the picnic area where our culinary students have prepared a lunch for us, and we can relax and speak freely.”
He gestured to a young man who was waiting his turn at a game they were playing. “Hefen, please escort Ephreni to the garden. I believe her classmates are tending the new shoots today.”
Ephreni looked a little disappointed at this, but she obediently followed Hefen away, turning to wave one more time to Lizzie with a sad smile. “See you tomorrow!” she sent before she turned to follow.
They walked down a short path and around the end of the building to an area that was populated with many tables, similar to any picnic table you might find on Earth, except that they were low and there were no benches or chairs. Instead, like Lizzie had seen at a Japanese restaurant in L.A., there was a space dug out under the table in which to put your feet. Obviously, they would be seated on the ground.
One table was already laden with a variety of dishes of the typical fare she had come to expect here, mostly raw foods consisting of vegetables and fruits, with some crackers Lizzie had become fond of, alongside every plate and a glass of water. At one end of the table was a tray set up like all of the other table settings, intended, as Lizzie saw, to sit on the arms of Reloi’s hover chair.
The arms of his chair usually served well to hold a tray or desk when he was interacting with his tablet or reading. In this case they made a perfect platform for the food tray.
Once they had all seated themselves around the table, there was the usual moment of thankful silence, and then they all enjoyed the small feast that had been prepared for them.
“This was prepared by students?” Lizzie asked as she drizzled a light vinegary sauce onto the cooked portion of vegetables on her plate.
“Indeed. The students are actively engaged in running the school under the supervision of teachers and teacher helpers. They also help keep the school clean, work in the gardens inside and outside that provide their meals at the school, and assist the teachers of their younger classmates. The purpose of the school is to prepare them mentally, physically, and materially to live successful, productive, and creative lives,” Beleen explained.
Lizzie thought about this. She knew that most educational institutions on Earth thought they were doing the same thing, but now she wondered again, if maybe some adjustments of how education was perceived and implemented would make a difference, especially for the full spectrum of different needs she had seen during her school years. This appeared to be designed to flexibly adjust the curriculum to suit the needs of the students.
“I was impressed with the way you allow the students to teach one another. I’ve seldom seen that in the schools where I come from. I know I could have learned a lot by teaching the things that came easily to me to those who were struggling with the same concepts. I think it would have also allowed me to connect with other students better. I was always ahead of my classmates and felt somewhat isolated throughout my school years.
“Has it always been this way in your schools, or is this some kind of advancement in education?” Lizzie asked.
Glath frowned for a moment and said, with an audible sigh, “I wish I could say it had always been this way, but alas, it took the major disaster that led us to the core of our planet to allow us to see a better way. When we first arrived, there were no schools. We were too focused on just surviving.
“We discovered that our young could do much more than we had realized to contribute to their communities, including caring for the younger ones and learning trades they never expected to pursue.
“Many parents began to teach their children separately and then started to combine lessons with other families. The current system evolved from the lessons we learned as a community. At present, almost all education within the planet operates in a similar way.
“It has decreased competition among our children and encourages teamwork. It also means that the entire community contributes to the success of our schools; no student is ever charged for their education, as even the students contribute in one form or another. Vocational training is accomplished through an organized apprenticeship program on several levels, up to journeyman and mastership.
“We try to expose our students to a wide range of skillsets, as well as courses in the arts taught by artisans in the community they live in, to allow them to make intelligent decisions as to what to pursue as contributing adults in their communities.”
Lizzie nodded her head in agreement. That had been the one major irritant in her own educational experience. The fact that she couldn’t get hands-on experience in the things she already had studied on her own and advance at her own pace had been a constant frustration for her.
Lizzie observed, “I can see that much good has come from the disaster, even though I know it must have been horrible to have experienced at the time. Even, with the little I have been able to observe, so far, it appears that the changes you have made as a culture under difficult circumstances, have been, on the whole, beneficial to all of the survivors. It appears you are on a good track to thrive in your current circumstances. I am looking forward to learning more about your people and I hope I can contribute in some small way.”
“And now,” Beleen sent, rising gracefully from the table and holding out a hand to Lizzie to help her up, “I think we need to allow you to go on to the next briefing on your agenda, Lizzie. There is much to see. Can you be here tomorrow morning to introduce yourself to the student body and do a music demonstration for us?”
“I will be happy to,” Lizzie replied, although just the thought of playing in front of the entire student body made her a little weak in the knees.
“Thank you, Beleen and Glath,” Reloi put in, levitating the tray from his chair to the table below. “We appreciate the tour. It brings back wonderful memories for me. We look forward to tomorrow, then.” And after one and all did the finger touching gesture that was the equivalent of a handshake, they headed out to the street to move on to the next appointment.
