Sylvia Chapter 10

[random_xtras]

"I'm glad he's alright." Sylvia frowned with concern at the pale but smiling little face on the screen in front of her. "I'm glad you're alright, Mattie."

The baby wriggled a bit, his grin widening, then paused to wave the end of Hannah's braid at her. "Aroo."

"Hair," Sylvia told him, smiling.

"Are." He examined it, then chuckled and leaned back against Hannah with a sigh.

His older sister cuddled him gently, then turned a look of concern toward her friend. "Ve are all vell now, Sylvia. But I can see sat you're not. Did somezing happen?"

"No." Sylvia adjusted her armchair so it wasn't reclining so much. "I just wound up with an opportunistic secondary infection. It wouldn't have been any trouble if I hadn't already had the super bug. And the super bug wouldn't have been any trouble if it hadn't butted in. But they both came, so now I'm laying around like some delicate invalid from one of those ancient novels we found on the infonet that time."

"I told you zhey veren't sat unrealistic," said Hannah teasingly. Then she grinned again. "Zhe suit looks pretty on you."

Sylvia blushed at the teasing, and then even more at the compliment as she looked down at the soft white and blue unisuit that she wore. "Thank you. I feel kind of bad, though. You guys had other things to think of than my outfit."

"Nein. Don't be silly. My oma needed somezing to do as she sat by our beds. Ve all have new dresses und shirts too, including Vater und Opa." Hannah kissed Mattie on the hair, then fluffed it gently as he cuddled up against her and grinned. "Oh! Speaking of Opas, how is yours?"

Pale eyes glanced toward the murmur of voices from the kitchen, and Sylvia chuckled softly. "I... I have an oma too now."

"Vhat??" Hannah leaned forward with surprised and pleased interest. "Vhat do you mean?"

"I mean Grandfather got married again." Sylvia watched as Oma tried to put cake batter on Grandfather's nose, and her voice got softer. "I've never seen him this happy."

"Ach! But I zought sat your people didn't get married."

"Grandfather does. He's old fashioned." Sylvia's tone made it clear that she heartily approved of her grandfather's odd quirks.

"Ahhh. Vhat is she like? Und vhy do you call her 'Oma'?" Hannah set Mattias free and leaned down to get her sewing before straightening up on her coffee table perch.

"Oh. Um. I have no idea why I call her that. But it's stuck." Sylvia blinked and paused in her careful tying of coloured thread. "And she's... Well, she's an Oma. But she acts more like Aunt Maria does with Uncle Walter than how Oma Lizzie acts with Opa Piotr."

"Ach. Cute!" Hannah's grin was wide. "Und you just haven't seen Oma vhen she decides to play. Sometimes she vill sit on Opa vhile he's in his chair, und zhen zhe two of zhem vill vread a novel togezer out loud."

Sylvia perked with interest. "I wonder if my grandparents would do that? It sounds like fun. Grandfather loves to reread his favorite books, and some of them are stories." Setting down her work, she steepled her hands together in front of her face.

"Vhich stories? Are any of zhem vones sat ve haf in our shelf?" Hannah rocked just slightly, obviously giving a baby brother a ride on her foot.

"No. I don't think so." Sylvia thought of the novels that her Grandfather had read to her and the ones that he kept for his own amusement. "Well, I have some of those. But Grandfather likes stuff written by non-humans."

"Ohhh. Und he can get zhem?" Hannah handed a piece of carrot down to Mattias as he babbled appealingly.

"He's had them for awhile." Sylvia absently wondered if Grandfather would now consider her old enough to read some of the novels by his own people that he'd translated excerpts from for her when she was younger. They had sounded like very interesting stories. "I have to get back to my language studies soon, so I can read them too."

"Anozer language?" Hannah laughed. "How many do you know alvready?"

"I... never counted." Sylvia blinked. "But I can only read most of them, because no one here speaks them."

"Ah. I only haf German, Common, und Mandarin. Und my pronunciation on zhe Mandarin is very bad." Hannah looked down as Mattias crowed at her. "Vhat? Vhat is zo funny?"

"Bababa!" he told her cheerfully.

"Vhere? Vhere is a baby?"

"Baba!" He laughed gleefully. "Adadadada baba!"

Hannah laughed too, and Sylvia found herself echoing their laughter.

"Oh, I am glad he's alright. Do you think he'll be well enough to go to school again soon?"

"Tante Chang says he can go again next veek," said Hannah. "He vill like sat. You should hear him shout vhen it's time to go in zhe mornings. Und zis morning vhen Stepi didn't take him, he cried."

"Babababa ky..."

Sylvia's eyes widened. "Did he just say 'cry'?"

"Maybe." Hannah looked down thoughtfully. "Mattie, did you say 'cry'?"

"Mamamamama!" The baby laughed.

"Maybe not." Hannah shrugged and looked up with a grin. "Zhey say many sings sat are not vords at his age. Zough I am sure sat he said 'Kaninchen' zis morning vhen he vas riding on my back as I took care of zhe rabbits."

"Awwww." Sylvia smiled, then sighed.

"Bored?"

"Yes," she admitted guiltily.

"Don't vorry. Sat's a sign sat you're getting better."

"That's what my Oma says, too." Sylvia expression was wry. "But it just feels wrong to sit around while everyone else is doing something. She says that healing is doing something, but it still just feels like sitting on my chair and not contributing."

"You can't vread?"

"Not for very long. It puts me to sleep, or makes my eyes hurt. And listening to audio makes me sleep, too. Then when I wake up my head feels like it's stuffed full of quilt batting."

"Aaach." Hannah's face showed concern and sympathy. "You vere very sick, to be still reacting like sat."

"And Grandfather is worried," concluded Sylvia quietly, as she glanced once more toward the kitchen. "I don't like worrying him."

"He'll be alvright. Especially if you vrest und let yourself heal properly." Hannah looked down and startled. "Ach! How did you get over zhere, Mattie? I'm sorry, Sylvia. I must go."

"Alright. I'll talk to you later." Sylvia blinked with startlement.

"God bless!" The screen went blank.

"I wonder if he's started crawling?" A finger poke to her wrist computer shut off the holo-screen, and then she looked over toward her Grandfather, only to see him looking back quizzically. Knowing that he would have already heard her conversation with her friends, she responded with a questioning look of her own. "What is it, Grandfather?"

"I was wondering if you would like to come with me for a short walk in the atrium," he said. "The cake is baking now, and will not need further attention for several minutes."

"Oh. Alright." She brightened, then pressed the button on her chair that would sit it up. "Is Oma gone?"

"No. I believe she is in the entertainment room, looking at all our files." He walked over to the dining room balcony and lifted Sylvia gently as she stood shakily, then spoke more quietly. "I do not think that she will be leaving again."

"I'm glad. She's good for you. You seem a lot happier now, Grandfather."

He rumbled softly as he cradled her against his chest. "She is good for you too. I had been concerned about your lack of a female role model during this critical time in your life. From my studies into human development I understand that having a mother is very important to girls who are entering womanhood."

"Bleah. I don't want to talk about periods right now." Sylvia stretched her fingers, and then waved at Zeta Zelda as the mechadrone climbed up to sit on the back of her chair.

"There is more to growing up than periods," said Grandfather gravely, smiling at Zeta Zelda as he turned in his slow and hobbling way toward the door. "As I said, you need a role model. And though you now have friends, and know their mothers and grandmothers, I believe that having a potential confident for any issues that you do not feel comfortable in bringing to me will be beneficial as well."

"I can tell you everything, silly." Sylvia shook her head.

"What of your plans for gifts?"

She stopped with her mouth open, then blushed slightly as she nodded. "Okay. I think I understand. But I still think it's really good for you to have Oma, because now there's someone to take care of you, too." She leaned her arms on the finger he curled close, crossing them comfortably. "That makes me feel happy."

He looked away as they entered the atrium, though she could see how his eye was twinkling. Judging by his expression and the colour of that eye, she could also make a pretty fair educated guess that he was blushing a bit himself.

"And... yes. It does feel good to have someone like a mother. I didn't realize I missed it till Oma came. Maybe I never realized what it could be like to have one till I saw Esther's and Hannah's," she finished softly.

"I wonder if there is anything else that I have been unable to properly provide for you due to the difference in our physical and mental natures." Grandfather frowned and rumbled worriedly as he walked among the apple trees, his feet and cane making soft scuffing sounds on the rubber path that he'd installed to save the little ground cover plants from being crushed to death against their lattice by his weight.

"I really don't think so." Sylvia leaned back comfortably, inhaling the scent of the ground cover and of the apples on the trees. "I thought I was socially backward for awhile, but now I'm not so sure."

"You are only shy." Grandfather shrugged that concern away. "And not damagingly so. You do not avoid contact with others, and I have seen you initiate such contact under your own violation. You are a quiet and studious personality, and the fact that such characters are not currently stylish in no way lessens their worth."

"Would you say that if you weren't the same kind of nerd?" Her eyes danced even as she blushed slightly about being cheeky and teasing him.

Grandfather stopped short and looked down at her with surprise. "...I have not heard that word in several centuries."

"I found it in a book." She ducked her head and grinned, then settled back again. "I like it. I don't understand why people once thought it was an insult."

"Nor do I, truthfully." He resumed his slow steps, leaning thoughtfully on his cane. "But I suspect it may have stemmed from the fact that those who could be labeled as 'nerds' were never the most common or vocal components of society. And as those type O individuals who were more common and vocal could not understand the studious ones they ridiculed them."

"So just like now. Only they don't use that word anymore." Sylvia glimpsed a bright splash of colour hanging from the protective grid over one of the grow light panels and gasped softly with excitement. "Grandfather, the flying flower is blooming!"

Grandfather paused and followed her gaze upward, then gave a pleased rumble. "So it is." Then he glanced downward. "And look! Look there in the crown of the Fiji tree, Sylvia!"

She leaned over to look toward the tree in question and gasped again as she caught sight of fluttering petals among the leaves. "Another one! Ohhhh, and it's a different colour! Our flower made seeds!"

"Yes. Look here." He pointed to a little crooked star of green clinging to one of the air circulation vents, and then to its three fellows slightly lower down. "And one of these is budding. The K'vk'ar ambassador would be pleased."

"Ohhh." Sylvia looked back toward the plants that were already blooming, her grin and eyes wide with wonder. "And he really said that they hardly ever set seed?"

"He did. They will live happily in many conditions that are not ideal. But it is only under ideal conditions that they seek to spread." Grandfather very very gently touched one of the little plants on the wall and watched it twitch slightly. "I feel a very... nerdly... pride in our gardener's ability."

Sylvia blinked, then hid her face and laughed.

Grandfather rumbled as he walked along the path toward a corner of the atrium that Sylvia seldom visited, his cane going out to gently brush aside some of the coloured ivy that scaled the wall there.

Sylvia watched quietly, her chin trembling slightly as one of the plaques beneath the ivy was exposed. "You're thinking of your oldest son."

"Yes," said Grandfather softly. "Having your Oma here reminds me of him strongly, though he took his physical and mental features more from myself." He ran his fingers gently over the smooth metal. "You would have enjoyed his company, I believe."

"Is that his wife there beside him?" She nodded toward the plaque to the right of the one they were looking at.

"Yes." Grandfather brushed aside its covering as well, exposing little ivy footprints that did not continue onto the plaques themselves. "She died the day he did, and her body lays beside that of your Oma in the crypt of heroes."

Sylvia frowned slightly. "But not beside my uncle?"

"We were never able to retrieve his body. The canyons are dangerous and shifting landscapes, populated still by creatures that even my people must fear." Grandfather sighed.

"That's why it hurts so much," she said soberly. "You haven't been able to lay him to rest."

"Indeed. Though your Oma tells me that he passed though the veil and rests quietly with his wife in the Source." His fingers once more brushed the plaque honoring his eldest. "That greatly eases the ache of separation."

"Why didn't Oma go? And how do your people stay behind?" asked Sylvia cautiously, afraid that she was going to hurt him with the questions, but unable to stifle her curiosity.

"Your Oma has unfinished business, she tells me." Grandfather's deep voice sounded slightly rueful, but full of grateful affection. "And I believe that the answer to your second question lays in the nature of the living energy that is our life force. It does not go out, even when we can no longer see it." He looked down as Sylvia lay her head against his chest to try and sense that living energy inside him.

"It just changes." She closed her eyes and concentrated on pinpointing the sound.

"Yes. And there have been recorded cases of individuals who were killed, yet who returned to full function."

"Do you think that Oma will do that?" She looked up quickly.

"I do not know," he said softly, letting the ivy fall back into place as he turned away. "But it does not matter if she does. Her presence as it is currently is enough."

Sylvia patted the big fingers that encircled her, a small smile coming to her face. Then her brows drew together curiously again. "Do you have any other grandchildren?"

"I do. Before their deaths my elder son and his wife had a daughter named Cygna, who has grown up a member of her mother's team. And my daughter and her husband have a son."

"And where does my other other cousin live? The boy?"

"He lives with his parents. I hear that he will soon enter the military academy." Grandfather frowned slightly.

"He's going to be a soldier?" Sylvia absently frowned too. "But your people aren't involved in any wars right now."

"I believe his decision stems from a desire to enter the planetary defence corp, which also includes the local police." Grandfather paused to look down at the reflecting light fountain, his cane going out to gently brush the dark red leaves of one of the trees that stood around it and then moving on to poke at a second tree that bore more commonly coloured leaves along with small yellow and red fruit. "Do you wish for some crab apples?"

Sylvia blinked, distracted from thoughts of a tall cousin with a police badge, then smiled and nodded. "Yes, please. Can we pick enough to preserve with spices?"

"Not today," said Grandfather with gentle firmness as he reached carefully for a few of the fruit. "You are not to exert yourself to that extent till your system can take it without harm. And I am unwilling to trample the creeping thyme and chamomile."

"Oh yes... I forgot." Sylvia sighed, but then brightened and accepted the six little apples that he presented to her. "Thank you." She sniffed at the ripe fruit happily, feeling her stomach rumble eagerly as she thought of the lovely tangy flavour held only by this particular kind of crab apple. "Did you ever taste these when you were human?"

"I did." Grandfather chuckled as he turned away to further follow the path through the trees. "And I believe your grandmother took a picture of my reaction to the first bite."

"They aren't that sour." Sylvia laughed.

"You have been accustomed to various flavours since your infancy," he told her with amusement. "I, on the other hand was only meeting with such things for the first time."

"So did it look like the expression you made when you tasted that copper chip I'd painted with the sour mixture?" she grinned, once more blushing faintly as she teased.

Grandfather paused to consider, then continued on his way. "It very well may have." Another chuckle. "I am still surprised that you would play such a joke, but I enjoyed it once I had soothed my taste sensors."

"It was only half a joke," confessed Sylvia, her cheeks brightening. "I wasn't sure how much would be too sour for you."

"It was not too sour for me. Only unexpected." He paused and went very still.

Sylvia looked up from her apples, and then followed his lead as she saw the tiny purple petals fluttering around his face, her eyes going wide as she realized just how small the new flying flower was.

Grandfather shut down his air intakes and "held his breath" lest he damage the diminutive flying vegetable, watching as it seemed to examine him closely. Then he smiled as it settled on Sylvia's hair. "I must take a picture of that. Your Oma will want to see it."

Silvia's eyes were shining as she blushed and paled in turns with bottled excitement and delight, but she dared not even speak for fear of frightening away that soft brush of petals that she could feel.

Then she sighed as she watched the bright flash of the flower leaving. "I guess I look like a tree."

"No. You do not." Grandfather gave a gentle shake of his head at her silliness, and then showed her the images that he had captured. "You look like an esthetically pleasing thirteen year old human girl."

"You're being so silly." She leaned on his finger and looked at the images, feeling herself blush as she looked at herself. "I look older than I thought I did. I guess I still think of myself as a little kid instead of a big one."

"You bear resemblance to your Grandmother, though other ancestors have given you your more petite size and structure," said Grandfather as he turned toward the last path in the atrium.

Sylvia tilted her head slightly, unconsciously aping his mannerism as she mentally compared the picture of her grandmother which hung in the living room to the image of herself that now hung in the air in front of her.

"I have her eyes," she said softly. "Only mine look lighter because the rest of my features are paler."

"Yes." He paused to examine the bench under the arbour, and then looked down at her. "Shall we sit for a few moments and simply enjoy the environment?"

"I'd like that. It's been too long since I could come and sit." She looked toward the apple tree that she loved to sit in, and saw that the natural seat in its crown bore a new pad of blue carpeting. "Maybe I'll be able to come here and study again soon."

"Yes. I believe you will." Grandfather activated the lift on the bench, then settled carefully before laying down his cane and leaning back comfortably. "Ah, I too have missed this."

Sylvia smiled, then turned her attention to examining her crab apples till the peace of sitting in the softly whirring, sweet scented surroundings sent her to sleep.