Silver Shoes for a Princess

by James P. Hogan

“So when will he do it?” Taya asked, abandoning the pretense of a story in her eagerness.

  “He has already started to. But they haven't been asleep in the same way that you sleep. They've been kept cold for a long time, and they can only be warmed up again very slowly and carefully."

  “So how long will it take?"

  “Not long. Scientist says about another five days."

  “Five days! I won't have to wait that long before I can talk to them, will I? I'll never be able to wait five days!"

  “You see how impatient you are,” Kort said. “And you'll have to learn to be a lot more patient than that to talk to them. They won't be able to talk as soon as they wake up."

  “They won't?"

  “Of course not. They don't know the language yet. They'll have to learn it, just as we had to."

  “Are you going to have to teach all of them?"

  “Certainly not. You are going to have to help."

  “Me?” Taya stared at Kort in amazement. “But I can't teach things. How will I know how to teach anything?"

  “That's something you're going to have to learn,” Kort replied.

  “But they'll need to know all kinds of things. Will I have to teach them about Merkon and the machines ... how to make clothes and draw pictures and spell words ... and do sums?"

  “I said there would be a lot to do between now and when we reach Vaxis,” Kort said. “But it won't be as bad as you think. We've decided to build some more bodies like mine to help. Also, because Scientist stopped the others growing, you are now eight years older than they are. You've already learned a lot that they won't know. By the time they are nine, you will be seventeen and will have learned a lot more. Between us we should manage okay."

  Taya tried to picture the forms in the boxes walking and talking, asking all the questions that she asked Kort and trying to learn all the things she'd had to learn. “I'll be very special, won't I?” she mused, half to herself.

  “Very,” Kort agreed.

  “Do we have a word for a Taya that's special?"

  “No. We've never needed one before because there's only ever been one of you. But maybe we should have a word like that now."

  “How about ‘queen'?” Taya suggested. “That's a nice word. Could a queen be a Taya that's eight years older than anyone else, and who knows more things and has to teach the others?"

  “I don't see why not,” Kort said.

  “So does that make me a queen?"

  “Well, not really, because there aren't really any others yet. But you will be in five days’ time."

  “I want to be special now. Can't we have another word that means somebody who isn't a queen yet, but who will be in five days’ time?"

  “Sure we can. Let's say that somebody like that is a ... ‘princess.’”

  “That's a nice word, too. So am I a princess right now?"

  “Right now,” Kort confirmed. “I've already written it into the dictionary."

  Taya looked down at herself, and after a few seconds raised a disappointed face toward the watching robot. “I still don't feel very special,” she said in a thin voice.

  “How did you expect to feel?"

  “I'm not sure. But there should be something different about being a princess. I still feel like a Taya."

  “I'll tell you what we'll do,” Kort said. “We'll make a rule that says the princess must look different from everybody else. Then everyone will know who she is, even if they're still small and not very good at remembering things yet."

  “How will we do that?” Taya asked, brightening.

  Kort unfolded the red cloak that he was still carrying, draped it around her shoulders, and fastened the clasp at her throat. “There,” he announced. “Only the princess will wear a red cloak."

  Taya stepped back and looked happily down at herself as she spread the cloak wide with her arms. Then she twirled round and around, causing it to billow in the air. “I feel like a princess!” she laughed. “I'm really special already, aren't I?"

  The robot bowed low and offered his arm. “Come, little princess, we must go now. Scientist has work to do here."

  Taya climbed onto Kort's arm and clung to his head as he straightened up and turned toward the door. “Will you make me some shoes that are silver, like yours?” she asked. “I think a princess should wear silver shoes too, don't you?"

  “A princess should have anything she wants,” Kort replied.

  The door closed behind them, cutting off the yellow glow. The robot and the princess moved away along the glass-walled tunnel, toward where the capsule was waiting to carry them home.

  END

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