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Authors: Niall Teasdale
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from. Aneka told me it sounded like your Mandarin,
and it does. I’m no linguist, but I’d say it’s derived from it.
Simplified a bit, maybe. Some of the usual vowel shifts and changes
you’d expect over a thousand years of divergence, but very
similar.’
‘So, you can understand what is
being said to you?’
‘Not enough to dispense with
your services,’ Ella replied, smiling. She got a very bright smile
back in return. Aneka wondered what they were paying the girl to do
this job.
‘I am glad of that, and I think
you will find this next man most interesting, and far harder to
understand. He is over one hundred years old. The Citizens below
are treating him with some of their best medicines to maintain his
health because he is such a great source of knowledge passed down
by word of mouth.’
They stopped in front of a small
gate in a fence, Chan Mei putting her hand on the catch. ‘He is
very old, and must stay in bed much of the time even with the
medicines. Also, he tends to be… uh, huài xīnyǎn de?’
‘Irascible?’ Ella suggested.
‘Yes! Please be patient with
him. His name is Chan Nianzu.’ She pushed the gate open and started
into the garden beyond.
‘A relative?’ Aneka asked.
‘My great-grandfather, though
everyone in the family calls him “Grandfather.”’
The garden was beautifully
maintained, with a couple of rhododendron bushes and a lot of
carefully mown grass. There was even a small carp pond, though it
appeared to have no fish in it; maybe that was a little too much
for the family to afford. The house behind it was two stories high
and built a little like a pagoda with a wide, open front porch on
which was sitting a woman in her sixties or seventies who smiled at
them as Chan Mei escorted them past and in.
Chan Nianzu occupied a room on
the ground floor with a window which overlooked the garden, though
whether he ever got to look out of it was another matter. He was
sitting up in bed with a bank of pillows propping up his back and
head. He looked every bit of his hundred plus years, completed with
wrinkled, yellowing skin replete with liver spots and an entirely
bald pate. He peered at the three women entering his room with
watery eyes, and then remembered the glasses hung around his neck
on a cord.
‘Zhèxiē yóukè nǐ dāyìngle, sūnnǚ
ma?’ He had a strong voice still, the accent rendering his words
virtually indecipherable even to Aneka’s software. There was an
exchange of rapid Mandarin. Aneka heard her name and Ella’s in
there and figured they had been introduced. Then the old man said,
‘It is a… pleasure to meet you.’ His accent was thick, but he could
obviously speak some English.
Ella gave him her brightest
smile. ‘Sher shou omen de ronshing.’
He blinked at her, frowned, and
then there was another exchange of Mandarin and Chan Mei said,
‘Grandfather says that the honour is his, and that your Mandarin
sounds strange. I explained that you spoke a language like Mandarin, and he says that your “Rimmic” must come from the time
before the Demon War when the People went to the stars.’
‘I would very much like to hear
about that,’ Ella replied.
Chan Nianzu looked rather
pleased that she did. He waved them into chairs, making sure that
Ella sat nearest to him. Chan Mei sat opposite them and he started
speaking as though he was very used to recounting tales of the long
past. With his great-granddaughter translating, they got the
story.
‘Long ago,’ Chan Mei said, ‘this
land was called China, a land with a long history, going back
thousands of years. You understand that this is half-legend he is
telling us? It was passed down through many generations.
China was ruled by kings and emperors, but always there was the
Bureaucracy making sure everything ran smoothly, and eventually the
last of the emperors died and the Bureaucracy ruled the land for
the People.’
Well, it was kind of true, Aneka
thought, in a very simplistic manner.
‘In
and it does. I’m no linguist, but I’d say it’s derived from it.
Simplified a bit, maybe. Some of the usual vowel shifts and changes
you’d expect over a thousand years of divergence, but very
similar.’
‘So, you can understand what is
being said to you?’
‘Not enough to dispense with
your services,’ Ella replied, smiling. She got a very bright smile
back in return. Aneka wondered what they were paying the girl to do
this job.
‘I am glad of that, and I think
you will find this next man most interesting, and far harder to
understand. He is over one hundred years old. The Citizens below
are treating him with some of their best medicines to maintain his
health because he is such a great source of knowledge passed down
by word of mouth.’
They stopped in front of a small
gate in a fence, Chan Mei putting her hand on the catch. ‘He is
very old, and must stay in bed much of the time even with the
medicines. Also, he tends to be… uh, huài xīnyǎn de?’
‘Irascible?’ Ella suggested.
‘Yes! Please be patient with
him. His name is Chan Nianzu.’ She pushed the gate open and started
into the garden beyond.
‘A relative?’ Aneka asked.
‘My great-grandfather, though
everyone in the family calls him “Grandfather.”’
The garden was beautifully
maintained, with a couple of rhododendron bushes and a lot of
carefully mown grass. There was even a small carp pond, though it
appeared to have no fish in it; maybe that was a little too much
for the family to afford. The house behind it was two stories high
and built a little like a pagoda with a wide, open front porch on
which was sitting a woman in her sixties or seventies who smiled at
them as Chan Mei escorted them past and in.
Chan Nianzu occupied a room on
the ground floor with a window which overlooked the garden, though
whether he ever got to look out of it was another matter. He was
sitting up in bed with a bank of pillows propping up his back and
head. He looked every bit of his hundred plus years, completed with
wrinkled, yellowing skin replete with liver spots and an entirely
bald pate. He peered at the three women entering his room with
watery eyes, and then remembered the glasses hung around his neck
on a cord.
‘Zhèxiē yóukè nǐ dāyìngle, sūnnǚ
ma?’ He had a strong voice still, the accent rendering his words
virtually indecipherable even to Aneka’s software. There was an
exchange of rapid Mandarin. Aneka heard her name and Ella’s in
there and figured they had been introduced. Then the old man said,
‘It is a… pleasure to meet you.’ His accent was thick, but he could
obviously speak some English.
Ella gave him her brightest
smile. ‘Sher shou omen de ronshing.’
He blinked at her, frowned, and
then there was another exchange of Mandarin and Chan Mei said,
‘Grandfather says that the honour is his, and that your Mandarin
sounds strange. I explained that you spoke a language like Mandarin, and he says that your “Rimmic” must come from the time
before the Demon War when the People went to the stars.’
‘I would very much like to hear
about that,’ Ella replied.
Chan Nianzu looked rather
pleased that she did. He waved them into chairs, making sure that
Ella sat nearest to him. Chan Mei sat opposite them and he started
speaking as though he was very used to recounting tales of the long
past. With his great-granddaughter translating, they got the
story.
‘Long ago,’ Chan Mei said, ‘this
land was called China, a land with a long history, going back
thousands of years. You understand that this is half-legend he is
telling us? It was passed down through many generations.
China was ruled by kings and emperors, but always there was the
Bureaucracy making sure everything ran smoothly, and eventually the
last of the emperors died and the Bureaucracy ruled the land for
the People.’
Well, it was kind of true, Aneka
thought, in a very simplistic manner.
‘In