Diann Thornley by Ganwold's Child

Author:Ganwold's Child
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2012-06-05T13:32:55+00:00

Tristan glanced up from the Pocket Tutor when Renier entered the sitting room flanked by Avuse and two masuki, but Larielle patted his arm and said, “Go on, Tris. You’re doing very well.”

Conscious of the governor pausing across the table from him, he returned his attention to the display, and his reading: “Despite their limited role in de-ter-min-ing the final … outcome?” He glanced at Larielle for confirmation.

She nodded. “That’s right. It means how something turns out in the end.”

“Oh.” Tristan shifted in his chair and went on. “—the final outcome of the con-flick … What’s that?” He pointed at the miniature monitor.

“Just a minute; one at a time,” Larielle said, and tapped the monitor. “What’s that again?”

“Conflick,” said Tristan.

“Close, but not quite. What does that little mark on the second character do to it?”

“Oh. Con-flict.” Tristan planted an elbow on the table to support his head in his hand. “What does it mean?”

“Ask the Tutor,” said Larielle.

Tristan sighed. “Define ‘conflict,’ ” he said.

“Conflict,” the Tutor responded. “War; struggle; disagreement between opposing ideas or forces.”

“Do you understand that?” Larielle asked.

“Yeah.”

“Good. Now,” she said, “look at the other word, one character at a time.”

Tristan said, “Na Shivish?” and questioned her with his look.

“Yes,” she said. “That means people from Na Shiv. It’s another world in the Issel Sector.”

“Na Shivish,” Tristan repeated to himself, and continued. “— troops formed the ma-jor-ity of the surface forces.”

Larielle nodded. “Good. Why don’t you ask the Tutor to read that passage back to you now?”

Tristan shrugged and opened his mouth to make the request, but the governor chuckled. “I think that’s enough reading for this evening, my dear. Come now.” He turned away. “We’ll have chelle tonight, Avuse.”

Reaching for the Tutor’s OFF button, Tristan nudged Pulou with his foot and rose, and the gan emerged from under the table. They joined the others before another fireplace with artificial flames, and Tristan took the chair farthest from the masuki.

In a moment, Avuse brought a tray of goblets and a crystal carafe from the vacuwaiter. Tristan watched him place the tray on the table at the governor’s elbow and pour a crimson liquid from the carafe.

He accepted the glass he was offered. The red liquid smelled spoiled to him, but the others either didn’t notice or didn’t mind. He took a sip; it tingled on his tongue. He grimaced and set the glass down.

Across from him, the governor said, “I’m pleased with your progress over this past month, Tristan.”

He glanced up but said nothing.

“Your reading skills and confidence with the Tutor are improving,” Renier pointed out. “I sense your hunger for the education that you’ve never had.” He ran a finger around the rim of his own goblet and looked at Tristan directly. “I think it’s time you were granted that opportunity.”

The words were generous but there was something about his tone that Tristan didn’t trust. “Why?” he asked.

The governor appeared mildly surprised. “Your father would have wanted the best for you, my boy. Since he has not been able to provide it, I feel that I should.

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