by Bob Craton
CHAPTER 4
Caelia
Her full name was Cælele-Amia Emerick~Chancelar, and although her first name was certainly not the only thing that made the girl distinctive, it was indeed unique. Of all the people living in Annâles-Scientia, only her father would ever have thought of naming a daughter after a legendary heroine of such antiquity. For that matter, the girl’s mother was the only woman wise enough to understand his motive and tolerant enough to let him have his way. The story of the original Cælele-Amia was known from the fairy tale that scholars sometimes told to their daughters. No one thought twice about the origin of the current Cælele-Amia’s name, however. Everyone knew who she was and they all called her Caelia.
Caelia was tall for thirteen and stood head and shoulders above the little ones clustered around her on this day. They were a gaggle of sixes, boys and girls alike all brightly dressed in yellow pants and tunics, just starting their formal education. Caelia’s clothes were colored deep green but were otherwise the same style. Her hair was the color of embers burning red and gold in a fire, something unmatched among her folk. She wore it pulled back and tied with a ribbon behind her neck, from where it cascaded down between her shoulder blades. Although her lithe body was as athletic as any boy among the thirteens, no one who saw her face ever mistook her for a boy. She had inherited her facial features from her mother (fortunately so, in everyone’s opinion), although her green eyes obviously came from her father.
“Quiet down and listen to me, everyone,” Caelia told the children and they ceased their chatter. They were serious now because they knew this first day was important. They understood that because they were smart. Everyone told them so. For students, learning things was the same as work was for adults, much more important than playing. Caelia said, “We’re going to the Anginearium today. It’s in one of the buildings inside the Chamber and a lot of interesting things are there. Who remembers what we talked about?”
“Me! Me! I do!” cried out a chorus of small voices.
“Good for all of you! We’ll talk to some very smart people and one of the anginears will show us some very interesting things. Plus, the Dozent himself will speak to us there.”
“Escol?” asked one of the boys.
“Children should call him Dozent Escol,” Caelia reminded them. “His full name is Escolastico Chancelar, but most people just say Escol because it’s easier. His first name actually means someone who teaches all that he knows, which is a good description of him. The last name isn’t so hard, is it? You already know how to pronounce Chancelar, don’t you?”
“Because it’s your name too!” called out a boy in the front row.
“That’s right, Linas,” Caelia replied with a proud smile. “He’s my father.” Suddenly, poor Linas was pushed hard from behind and staggered forward. He almost crashed into Caelia but she caught his shoulders and helped him keep his balance. For a brief moment, she left her hands touching him. Linas gazed up in awe but Caelia was not looking down at him. Her eyes were searching out the culprit who had pushed him instead.
“Linas is in love with Caelia! He loves her!” cried out the girl who had been standing behind him. Laughter rang out, especially from the boys.
“Kira! Never shove anyone like that!” Caelia said. “Someone could get hurt.”
“But he loves . . .” Kira tried to insist.
“What’s wrong with that? It’s no excuse for what you did,” Caelia answered sharply. Then she softened her face and looked coyly around at the other kids. “Besides, how could he help it? Everyone loves me!” she said with a touch of mischief and then she spread her arms wide as if to embrace the whole world. “Even Kira does, if she’d only admit it.” This time all the children except Linas and Kira giggled. The boy stared in wonderment at Caelia’s face while Kira scowled. “No more playing around. It’s time to grab the rope.”
Hearing her words, the kids lined up while a soft rope was stretched into a straight line. The biggest boy was assigned the important duty of being last in line, while a girl who walked with a limp was placed in front right behind Caelia. She was good at organizing such things and no one in Caelia’s groups was ever left behind. Each child grasped the rope tightly and they started forward.
Once in the Chamber, the little ones knew the rules. Every child had at least one parent who worked there and the kids had been inside before. They stayed in the middle of the walkways and never pulled the rope to one side or the other. When they crossed Meeting Square and walked past Speaker’s Dais, they all resisted the urge to climb the steps and run around on the platform. Even the adults they passed followed the instructions Caelia had given them. They smiled at the little ones but did not speak or wave; that might distract the kids. At that time of day in the Chamber, many people were laboring at their trades, some of them inside buildings and others out in the open. Many used sharp tools and some stood in front of big things that spun around or shook from side to side. In several places, hot fires burned inside the large stoves which adults called forges. A careless child could easily get hurt in the Chamber.
“There it is,” Caelia told them as she pointed ahead to a structure built, like everything else in sight, of smooth rectangular stone blocks. It stood three floors high, although an outsider might think it was only two floors and a flat roof. Inside the Chamber, of course, there was no need to cover the top story. Naturally, Caelia gave no thought to what strangers might think since she had no memory of ever seeing one.
“We’ll go inside and ask the nice people if we can ride the lifter up to the top level,” she said to the children.
The people inside were as nice as expected. Everyone stopped what they were doing and smiled warmly. “Hello, Caelia,” they said, although some called her “our girl” or “precious” instead of her name, followed by such phrases as “welcome, children” and “congratulations on starting school today.” A kind man helped half of the kids climb into a large basket which had cables attached to its corners. These ropes went up through a hole in the ceiling which was the same size as the basket. Although the children didn’t really understand, the ropes were expertly counterweighted. Clever wheels with cogs were hidden somewhere inside the walls and helped pull the basket upward so the man had little trouble turning a crank as it ascended. When the basket returned, he did the same with the other half of the group.
The wall around the third floor was high enough to block the kids’ view except in a few rectangular cut-outs which served as windows, but the children didn’t care about looking outside anyway. The floor was crammed with tables covered with any number of fascinating devices made of metal or ceramic. The nearest one was a cube with a shaft coming out of the top. A small mirror sat atop the shaft and spun around, flashing brightly as light hit it. Better yet, the next one was a small box with metal legs attached. The legs actually moved and the box hopped up and down, over and over. Then a man and woman walked up to them.
“I am Dozent Escol, and this is Anginear Mariel. You are very welcome here, young ones,” he said. He was some years past forty, had a friendly (if not handsome) face, and was dressed in the green clothes that indicated he was a member of the savant-litteratae. The woman was younger than him but still quite old in the eyes of the children, and wore the traditional outfit of anginears – a white tunic with many pockets and black trousers. The man continued, “I know this is your first visit, but you’ll come back here often in the coming years. You’ll learn very much and become proficient at fabricating . . . .”
“Excuse me, Dozent Escol,” interrupted Caelia. “I need to have a private word with the children, please.” Turning to the kids, she cupped her hands around her mouth as if hiding her lips and spoke in a loud stage whisper, “My father is really great,” she told them, pretending that Escol and Mariel couldn’t hear every word. The little ones enjoyed the gag. “But sometimes he makes these long boring speeches. I think I should ask him to just show us how these models work instead. Okay?” Every head nodded and Cael
ia returned to speaking to Dozent Escol. “Sir, could Anginear Mariel please explain to us why this one with the mirror spins like that?”
“Certainly,” he replied. He smiled and turned to Mariel. “Please take over.”
After Mariel told the children about the first gadget, she made her way down the row of tables giving them all sorts of interesting bits of trivia and showing them little tricks each device could perform. As Escol expected, Mariel grabbed their attention and kept them aahing and oohing in delight. The Dozent knew that sixes wouldn’t remember technical details anyway, so the main goal was to excite their curiosity and keep them eager to learn in the future. Caelia understood that point better than he did and this wasn’t the first time she had gotten him back on track.
Escol was extremely proud of his daughter and watched her as she kept a close eye on the children. She was easily the brightest of her age level and, he believed, the most impressive young intellectual ever. The first part was obviously true, but ‘ever’ is a long time and he had no way of proving the second part, a technicality which in no way diminished his opinion. Predictably, everyone agreed with him. She was also much better than he was when dealing with people – and not just with children but adults also. That ability came from her mother, and Escol and his wife were both delighted that Caelia had gotten the best traits of each of them.
Later when the session was finished, Escol stood at one of the windows and watched his daughter lead the brightly-dressed children on the way to their next stop on the tour. They followed Caelia carefully, just like baby cygnets behind a mother swan. And she was only thirteen! Yes, Escol was very proud indeed.
For perhaps the ten-thousandth time in Caelia’s lifetime, Escol thought, ‘What a Dozent she will make!’ Then another notion entered his mind and he added, ‘Or anything else she needs to be!’
