Soldier at the Door(44)

It takes a worrying kind of intellect to do that so efficiently. And she was just starting to think there was no intellect among the Administrators.

Apparently there was, just the wrong kind. And who did that intellect belong to?

Mahrree didn’t know the answer, but at least Terryp’s stories would make Poe’s evenings worth remembering.

“I had a copy of those stories,” Perrin remembered as he put down Jaytsy who was squirming to be released, and scooped up Peto instead. “I loved the one about the giant that holds the world on his back. I used to imagine that land tremors were because he had an itch he couldn’t reach.” He smiled at the memory. “And then,” his voice became lively, “I figured when it was thundering, that was when he sneezed!”

“Eww, now that’s not very appetizing right before dinner!” Mahrree sneered. “So what was the rain?—Oh, never mind.”

“And then,” Perrin wasn’t finished yet, his eyes looking twenty years younger, “I decided that when he had intestinal pains it was—”

“Nothing I want to know about!” Mahrree shut him up.

Perrin gave her a disappointed look. “You may not want to know about it, but I am sure little Peto here would. Right, my son? The bodily functions of giants are fascinating to little boys,” Perrin held up his son and rubbed noses with him until he giggled.

“And right now, you are that giant.”



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After dinner there was a knock at the door. Mahrree opened it to see Qualipoe’s robust mother standing there looking radiant. She wore a gown that took Mahrree’s breath away. It was the same shimmering fabric of Poe’s, but with stripes of pink and burgundy which seemed to shine even in the dark of the evening. A long coat of finely woven black worsted wool, which matched her glistening black hair, protected her from the growing chill.

“Good evening, Miss Mahrree—I mean, Mrs. Shin,” Mrs. Hili apologized with a smile.

“Oh, it’s always Mahrree. Come in, please!”

“Actually, I won’t, I’m on my way to the concert tonight. I just wanted to return this,” and she handed Mahrree The Stories of the World. “Qualipoe won’t be needing it right now.”

“Why not?” Mahrree asked, disappointed. “He seemed excited to read it. I’m sure if I talk to him I can convince him to—”

“No, he wanted to read it,” Mrs. Hili interrupted. “But I told him he probably shouldn’t, at least not right now. I don’t want him to have too much on his mind before the testing next week.”

Mahrree narrowed her eyes. “Are you saying that reading this book will . . . make him forget what he needs to know on the test?”

“See, I knew you’d understand!” she breathed easier. “If he remembers this nonsense,” she gestured to the stories, “but then doesn’t remember the numbers and facts he’s memorized, well then, there’s a problem.”

“Oh, I am sure he won’t confuse flying arrows from another people assaulting our world, with the definition of an acute angle!”

Mrs. Hili did not look amused. “You may not realize it, but if the children perform well on the test, the school will receive funding from the Administrators.”

“The children get paid for learning? My, maybe I’ll go back and be a student,” Mahrree said mischievously. “But I don’t see why we need money. The school house—”

“Is in shambles!” Mrs. Hili exclaimed.

“Really?” Mahrree blinked. “What happened to it?”

Mrs. Hili rolled her eyes. “Come now, you know what it looks like—stone walls, wood floor, log supports, so basic, so . . . tasteless.”

Mahrree was completely lost. “Exactly how is that tasteless?” The description matched her own house.

“You really haven’t been out lately, have you?” She glanced down to Jaytsy who was hanging on her mother’s skirt. There was unidentified food and patches of dirt smeared on her face and dress.

“Cute little girl,” Mrs. Hili said, unconvinced of her own evaluation. She looked back up at Mahrree. “You haven’t even seen the new building project, have you? The new home development, on the south side? They’re building with blocks now, and the structures are astoundingly innovative!”

“Innovative, huh?” Perrin came up to the door to join the conversation. “They’ve had block buildings in Idumea for about seven or eight years now. I admit they are sturdy and possibly safer in a land tremor. But honestly, I find them rather bland. Every building looks the same—same gray color, same square shape, each block poured to look exactly the same. Anything with variety is broken down and recast. Now stone and log buildings—those have character!” he smiled.