Read Online Valhai (The Ammonite Galaxy) by Gillian Andrews - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Gillian Andrews
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did not meet Amanita’s standards.
“We like to dine according to tradition,” she told Grace severely.
“I expect, since you and your mother have lived alone, you’ve slipped into more informal customs?”
Grace bowed her head, but didn’t answer. She had made up her mind not to engage in battle tonight. She would be calm and considerate, as befitted a Sell, would interest herself in the wellbeing of her niece and nephew, and avoid all controversial topics. She had decided that the problems she had with Amanita were probably in good part due to her own failure to empathize with the older woman. She would try harder. The only subject she was determined to bring up was that of the donor apprentices; and that would be when she could get her brother alone for a moment.
“I can’t believe I have two 50 th level grandchildren!” Cimma said, reaching down to give each of them a hug, without putting the knife down. “Hello, Xenon 50, Genna! You are so much bigger than I remember.”
“I don’t know why that should surprise you,” sniffed Amanita, “growing is a perfectly normal procedure for children.”
“Grandmother Cimma, what is the knife for?” asked Genna.
“To protect you!” said Cimma.
Genna’s eyes widened. “Are we in danger? Are there bad men out there?” She looked around fearfully and began to cry.
“Of course there aren’t,” said Amanita. “Take no notice of your grandmother. Really, Cimma, do you have to frighten her like that?”
“They have to be protected,” insisted Cimma. “They both belong to the generation who will sit at the Second Valhai Votation! It will be their votes that decide the future of the planet.”
“Naturally Xenon 50 will be fully instructed in all facets of the decision-making involved, and I can assure you he will be educated to take his obligations most seriously,” Amanita said.
“No, I meant . . .” Cimma stopped. “He’s just a little boy.”
“He is already five.” Amanita looked at them seriously. “He will be brought up to know the extent of his responsibilities. Anyway,” She went on, “Xenon will be down in a moment. He has a lot of work currently, but will join us for the meal.” Her tone implied a very great honour.
“It is kind of him to make time for his mother,” Grace murmured.
“Indeed.” Amanita inclined her head.
Grace had taken a breath and was about to reply when the food arrived. The bell on the food lift rang, and the three women hastily hurried over to the lift to remove the plates, and distribute them around the table in the eating area.
Xenon 49 put in an appearance just as they were serving out the first course.
“Mother,” He touched fingers with her perfunctorily. “you are well, I hope.”
“Very. Is the work going well?”
“Fine. What is this I hear about a non-virtual visit from Vion?”
“He only came to pay his respects to your father’s tomb.”
“An obvious excuse. What did he really want?”
Cimma hesitated. “Well, if you must know he thought I was looking a bit under the weather.”
“I knew there was more to it than just a courtesy visit.” Xenon was pleased to be proved correct. “Did he tell you to stop carrying that ridiculous knife?”
“No, but he gave me a tonic.”
“I think you may need rather more than a tonic, Mother.”
“What do you mean?”
“The whole of Sell is talking about you.”
“Why would they do that, dear?”
“I think Xenon is a more appropriate form of address now, Mother, given my . . . err . . . status. And if you insist on waving a weapon around your head all the time you must expect some notoriety!”
“Your father told me most clearly to carry this at all times. I don’t see anything odd about it at all. It would be stranger if a wife didn’t obey her husband’s wishes!”
“Father is dead, Mother. You know that.”
“Well, of course I know that, I don’t live on another planet! But that doesn’t mean he can’t talk to me,
“We like to dine according to tradition,” she told Grace severely.
“I expect, since you and your mother have lived alone, you’ve slipped into more informal customs?”
Grace bowed her head, but didn’t answer. She had made up her mind not to engage in battle tonight. She would be calm and considerate, as befitted a Sell, would interest herself in the wellbeing of her niece and nephew, and avoid all controversial topics. She had decided that the problems she had with Amanita were probably in good part due to her own failure to empathize with the older woman. She would try harder. The only subject she was determined to bring up was that of the donor apprentices; and that would be when she could get her brother alone for a moment.
“I can’t believe I have two 50 th level grandchildren!” Cimma said, reaching down to give each of them a hug, without putting the knife down. “Hello, Xenon 50, Genna! You are so much bigger than I remember.”
“I don’t know why that should surprise you,” sniffed Amanita, “growing is a perfectly normal procedure for children.”
“Grandmother Cimma, what is the knife for?” asked Genna.
“To protect you!” said Cimma.
Genna’s eyes widened. “Are we in danger? Are there bad men out there?” She looked around fearfully and began to cry.
“Of course there aren’t,” said Amanita. “Take no notice of your grandmother. Really, Cimma, do you have to frighten her like that?”
“They have to be protected,” insisted Cimma. “They both belong to the generation who will sit at the Second Valhai Votation! It will be their votes that decide the future of the planet.”
“Naturally Xenon 50 will be fully instructed in all facets of the decision-making involved, and I can assure you he will be educated to take his obligations most seriously,” Amanita said.
“No, I meant . . .” Cimma stopped. “He’s just a little boy.”
“He is already five.” Amanita looked at them seriously. “He will be brought up to know the extent of his responsibilities. Anyway,” She went on, “Xenon will be down in a moment. He has a lot of work currently, but will join us for the meal.” Her tone implied a very great honour.
“It is kind of him to make time for his mother,” Grace murmured.
“Indeed.” Amanita inclined her head.
Grace had taken a breath and was about to reply when the food arrived. The bell on the food lift rang, and the three women hastily hurried over to the lift to remove the plates, and distribute them around the table in the eating area.
Xenon 49 put in an appearance just as they were serving out the first course.
“Mother,” He touched fingers with her perfunctorily. “you are well, I hope.”
“Very. Is the work going well?”
“Fine. What is this I hear about a non-virtual visit from Vion?”
“He only came to pay his respects to your father’s tomb.”
“An obvious excuse. What did he really want?”
Cimma hesitated. “Well, if you must know he thought I was looking a bit under the weather.”
“I knew there was more to it than just a courtesy visit.” Xenon was pleased to be proved correct. “Did he tell you to stop carrying that ridiculous knife?”
“No, but he gave me a tonic.”
“I think you may need rather more than a tonic, Mother.”
“What do you mean?”
“The whole of Sell is talking about you.”
“Why would they do that, dear?”
“I think Xenon is a more appropriate form of address now, Mother, given my . . . err . . . status. And if you insist on waving a weapon around your head all the time you must expect some notoriety!”
“Your father told me most clearly to carry this at all times. I don’t see anything odd about it at all. It would be stranger if a wife didn’t obey her husband’s wishes!”
“Father is dead, Mother. You know that.”
“Well, of course I know that, I don’t live on another planet! But that doesn’t mean he can’t talk to me,
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