Galatzi Joy (Galatzi Trade Book 3)

by Robin Roseau

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It was a good relationship, and I’m glad for him. He moved to Blessed once he was done and met a nice, local boy there, the last I heard.”

  I turned to back to the technician. “What can I do now?”

  “It works on voice command,” he said. “In time, you will learn to subvocalize.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “You speak, but so quietly it produces no sound. The implant doesn’t actually hear you but listens to the signals you produce.”

  “Oh,” I said. “I understand.” Well, in a fashion, I understood.

  “You need to begin with naming your implant,” he added. “If you don’t give it a name, it will respond to the name given by the manufacturer. You must also decide if you wish a male or female voice.”

  “Female,” I said. “Do I get a choice beyond that?”

  “It is quite flexible. Is there a famous singer whose voice you like?”

  “There is someone from home. She calls herself Melina.”

  He paused and then said, “I have it. You can assign different voices for English or German, or you can use the same voice.”

  “It’s going to sound like Melina?”

  “No, although you could train it. Melina is listed as having a contralto voice, and there is a default choice of Female Contralto. They will sound similar. For now, let us just pick a single voice for both languages. Do you know what name you wish to use?”

  “Could I call it Melina?”

  “You could,” he replied. “It is currently configured to respond to a name of Kingston 27A. Say its name.”

  “Kingston 27A,” I said.

  “Attending,” said the voice, in English.

  “It’s speaking English,” I complained.

  “Say these words,” he said, and the hologram prompted me.

  “Kingston 27A.”

  “Attending.”

  “Preferences.”

  “Preference system activated.”

  “Change implant name from Kingston 27A to Melina.”

  “Confirm: change name from Kingston 27A to Melina.”

  “Confirm change.”

  “I will now respond as Melina,” it said, still in English, and I wouldn’t have understood if the technician hadn’t been helping.

  New commands appeared. “Change response language to German.”

  “Confirm: Change response language to German.”

  “Confirm change.”

  “New response language is now German,” the implant said, in perfect German, although with an accent.

  “It has an accent,” I complained.

  “Ah. My mistake.” More words appeared.

  “Melina,” I said, “Change accent to Frantzland, Ersteheim region.”

  “Confirmed,” it replied. Apparently this was a smaller change that didn’t require me to confirm it. It was such a short word I couldn’t be sure it was proper, but after this, my implant carried a voice as from my old home.

  “Ready?” The technician asked.

  I nodded, and more words applied. “Melina, change response voice to female contralto.”

  “This is the female contralto voice in German, using the Frantzland Ersteheim regional accent,” the voice said, and if it didn’t sound exactly like Melina, it was close enough. I smiled. “Confirm change?”

  “Confirm change,” I agreed. “Thank you, Melina.”

  “You are welcome, Maddalyn,” it said.

  I laughed. “It knows my name.”

  “It does,” agreed the technician. “I think of mine as she.”

  “Not me,” said Devon. “Mine’s definitely male.”

  I laughed again. “This is so wonderful!”

  “I know,” said the technician. “I love my job. I get to see so many excited people.”

  “Oh, I bet that is grand,” I replied. “What else can I do?”

  “Let us partner with your tablet,” said the technician. “We’ll teach you to accept conference calls and email. First, unlock your tablet and then go into settings and search for pairing.”

  It took a minute; it was a feature I had never used. Then words appeared. “Melina, initiate pairing mode, device 71799352.”

  “Device found,” Melina said. “Confirm pairing with tablet named MaddPad.”

  “Confirm pairing,” I said.

  “Pairing complete.” And then before my eyes, I could see my tablet screen, twice, once the actual tablet, and once an overlay. “Oh, wow.”

  “Let’s drive your tablet for a moment,” said the technician. More words appeared.

  “Melina, MaddPad slave mode.”

  “Slave mode activated.”

  “Now, you use your eyes like a pointer, but you speak the actions you want.” And several words appeared. “I would set the real tablet down to avoid confusing yourself. You can check your messages here, but then we’ll direct your implant as your primary communications device.”

  I lowered the tablet to my lap and set my hands over it, but then I flicked my eyes at the image of the tablet that Melina was giving me. “Click,” I said. “Up. Click.” It took longer than it would have taken me the old way, but I found my mail. And then I froze, staring at it.

  After a moment, I looked down, and the actual tablet was doing everything the virtual tablet had been doing. I stared at that for a while, too.

  Neither Devon nor the technician rushed me, but then I felt Devon’s hand on my shoulder. “It’s a lot to take in.”

  “Yes,” I agreed. I looked up at the technician. “I can do this without the actual tablet.”

  “Yes. Say disengage slave mode.” I did that, and Melina confirmed it.

  Then the technician talked me through connecting to the local network. After that, it was much like registering a new tablet, Melina providing an interface before me that looked just a like a computer screen, with much, much more space than a tablet. I registered Melina as my primary communications channel, and a moment later, I saw I had an incoming video call from Jaylon Wyatt and remembered that was the technician’s name. Laughing, I accepted it.

  “Herzlichen Glückwünsche, Frau Herschel,” he said. Congratulations.

  “Sprechen Sie Deutsche?” I asked, surprised.

  “No, no,” he said, back in English. “I only learned that phrase.”

  I thought that was kind of him, so I said, “Danke schön. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” he replied. Then Devon had to help as he continued. “Let me show you what I see on my side.”

  He produced his own tablet and turned to me. I saw what looked like a screen saver.

  “That is me?”

  “Yes,” he said.

  “But I see you,” I said. “I see you there.” I pointed at the real him. “And there.” I pointed into space where the implant showed his face.

  “Jaylon has a model that can do that,” Devon explained. “Yours cannot. Yours can display what you can see, but it is considered a security risk to enable it.”

  “Why?”

  “Imagine that you are looking at something sensitive when you receive a call. If you forget, then your caller will see what you are seeing.”

  “But you can slave with your tablet,” said the technician. “Melina can use your tablet’s camera, so you can point it at you. We can teach you tomorrow.” And then his second image disappeared; I realized he had terminated the conference. “That is enough for today. I want you to put Melina to sleep and leave her until tomorrow. Have Devon take you to your room for a nice nap.”

  “Could I nap in the garden?” I asked immediately.

  He smiled. “If you like.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Wyatt,” I said in English. Then I had to use German to say, “I will see you tomorrow.”

  “Until tomorrow, Ms. Herschel.”

  * * * *

  Devon rolled me to the garden, putting me in my favorite place, then pulled another chair over to face me. He smiled. “I want to talk
to you about one more thing. Maddalyn, this isn’t Frantzland.”

  I looked around and smiled. “I can tell.”

  “It is normal to use first names here.”

  “You already offered du,” I said, the informal ‘you’.

  “Yes, but you should assume, unless someone is speaking German to you, that you could treat them as du and not Sie.”

  “I couldn’t.”

  “You need to learn, Maddalyn. The Talmonese don’t even have last names. They are known by the first names, perhaps with a place name added only when necessary. The vendart of Sudden is known simply as Baardorid, and he is the only man on Talmon with that name, as best we know, but if another were present, he would be Baardorid of Sudden.”

  “Vendart?”

  “Hmm. Mayor, perhaps, is a good translation.”

  “Oh, I see. But we are not on Talmon.”

  “No, we are on Tarriton. Have you heard anyone call Anna ‘Ms. White’?”

  “Oh.”

  “They are not being disrespectful, Maddalyn.”

  “Herr Wyatt called me Ms. Herschel.”

  “Because he knows you are from Frantzland, and because I warned him you would be offended if he treated you as comfortably as he would anyone else.”

  “Oh,” I said.

  “Anna wants you to begin growing accustomed immediately.”

  “Of course.” If it was what Aunt Anna wanted, I would do my best.

  “Good,” he said. “You have an assignment.”

  “I do?”

  “Yes. You must introduce yourself to at least three people, speaking in English, using your first name and theirs. It’s okay if it’s someone you’ve met before, but Anna and I don’t count. You already use our first names.”

  “Now?” I think my voice squeaked.

  “No, but before I come back tomorrow morning.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “You’ll do better than try,” he replied. “I didn’t make this assignment up, Maddalyn. Anna did. Are you going to disappoint her?”

  “No!” I said firmly.

  “Good. I didn’t think so.”

  Those words would become my mantra? Am I going to disappoint Anna? And the answer would be ‘no’, resoundingly ‘no’. At least for now, and then later, while it looked like I was, indeed going to disappoint her, a friend would save me from that. But I’ll get there.

  Devon nodded then helped me rearrange the chair so I was comfortable. I looked out at the view and smiled.

  “I’ll set someone to check on you. Do you need anything?”

  “No, thank you, Devon.”

  * * * *

  “Miss?”

  I nurse was kneeling in front of me. I opened my eyes.

  “Do you remember where you are, Miss?”

  “Sorry,” I said. “Poor English. My name Maddalyn.” I held out my hand.

  She took my hand with a smile. “Hello, Maddalyn. I am Ria.”

  “Pleased to meet, Ria. What ask?” It was a little shocking, but not that shocking. It wasn’t like I never used first names. But I always knew the person first.

  She spoke slowly and pantomimed some of it. “Do you,” and she pointed to me, then said, “Know?” and she pointed to her head. “Where you are?” And she pointed down.

  With the visual prompts, I figured out what she was asking. “Ja,” I said. “Understand. Tarriton. Rejuvenation center.”

  “Very good,” she said. “It’s time to get you inside.”

  That I didn’t understand, as she had stopped being careful, although I’m not sure I would have even if she spoke slowly. But she stood and moved behind me. She told the chair to reset, and then she turned me around and began pushing me towards the buildings.

  * * * *

  Ria pushed me to the cafeteria. She helped me through the line and then asked, “Where do you want to sit?”

  I didn’t understand, but I pointed to a table with other people. “Is okay? Meet?”

  “Let’s go ask,” she said. She pushed me over and then spoke in rapid English. I didn’t catch a word, but she edged me to the table, helping me set my tray in place, and then wished me a good afternoon.

  “Hello,” I said. It was a round table. There were two women and one man, both clearly recovering patients, each in their own wheelchair, and one other man and woman, seated at regular chairs. “My name Maddalyn. Poor English.”

  They were kind. I learned their names, and then the woman who wasn’t a patient asked, “Where are you from, Maddalyn?”

  That I understood. “Frantzland,” I said.

  We talked, if one wants to call it that, for several minutes while we ate, although it was awkward. Then one of the men began telling a story, speaking far, far too rapidly to understand, and I decided I’d intruded enough. It wasn’t their fault I spoke such little English. But I listened as he spoke, eating my lunch.

  Eventually the one woman took care of her tray and the tray of one of the women in a wheelchair, then she took mine for me, as well. The man saw to the others. Then the woman wheeled her friend away. The man wheeled the other woman away, and I was left at the table with the last of the men, also in a wheelchair.

  He and I looked at each other for a minute. He smiled. I said, “Tired. Thank to talk.”

  “You’re welcome, Maddalyn,” he said.

  Before he could say more, I used the pad to command the chair to return me to my room. It backed me from the table and wheeled me away.

  Immersion

  Anna didn’t bring me home with her. Instead, she took me to somewhere that looked like a resort, straight from all the photos. I’d never been somewhere like this. It, like everywhere on Tarriton, was beautiful.

  “This is Cardenas University,” she explained. “Your home for the next several months.”

  “I thought you were sending me to Talmon.”

  “You don’t think I’d send you untrained, do you? Let us get you settled.” We climbed from the jumper. Then, with my meager luggage following along on a grav sled behind us, she led me towards the buildings.

  Everything about Tarriton was still new to me, so new. And everything had its own magic. Everywhere I looked was beauty, beauty I’d never seen before. Frantzland was functional. Oh, we had art, but it didn’t surround us. And while I shouldn’t say that the trees were art, they seemed like it to me.

  But it was more than the vegetation and wide-open skies. The buildings were works of art. Of course, there is a German word for architecture. It is a cognate: Architektur. But this was not a word used on Frantzland, and so it was an unknown concept to me. To see these buildings designed as more than simple boxes, protection from the elements, was a marvel to me.

  And I could see so many places at once. That was another aspect I continued to find overwhelming, and one that I didn’t think I’d ever get over.

  “Alles schön,” I said. It was all beautiful.

  “Yes, well,” said Aunt Anna. “No more German.”

  “Du entschuldigst mich,” I said. Excuse me?

  “From this moment,” Aunt Anna said very slowly in English, “You speak only English.”

  I caught enough of that. “Only English.”

  “You must learn,” she said. “I will teach you a word. Immersion. Eintauchen. Say it.”

  “Eintauchen,” I repeated.

  “Not funny, Maddalyn,” she said. “Immersion.”

  “Immersion,” I said carefully. “English only.”

  “English only,” she confirmed.

  “No Talmonese?” I asked in English.

  “No. English now. You will learn Talmonese on Talmon.” I understood enough of that.

  “I understand,” I said.

  “Good. Come.” That I understood.

  She led me into one of the buildings, and then we passed into an office. “Maddalyn Herschel,” Aunt Anna said. “This is Saira Horn, Dean of Admissions for the university.”

  She offered her hand. I didn’t understand s
everal of the words Aunt Anna had used, but I realized I had been offered a name and a title. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Maddalyn,” she said.

  “Thank you. I call you Dean Horn?”

  “Yes,” she confirmed. “Please, have a seat.” She offered a gesture. Anna and I both took our seats, and then the dean said, “Congratulations. Anna must have great faith in you.”

  I looked at my aunt. “Aunt Anna is very kind.”

  “Aunt Anna is it?” asked Dean Horn.

  “It is a more tenuous relationship than that,” Aunt Anna replied. I quickly used my implant to offer a translation.

  “Ah. Maddalyn, how is your English coming?”

  “I am learning,” I replied. “Immersion.”

  “Ah, yes.”

  We spoke for a few minutes, and then she said, “Well. Here is your schedule.” There was a pause, and then Melina informed me I had a new document from Dean Saira Horn. I accepted it and then nodded. I could work through it when I had time.

  “Thank you, Dean Horn.”

  “You are welcome, Maddalyn. Pippa is waiting to show you the campus and help you settle into housing.” She stood up, prompting Anna and me to do the same. We clasped hands, and she showed us from her office.

  In the corridor, a woman waited. She stepped up to us with a smile. “Maddalyn? I’m Pippa.”

  I held out my hand and greeted her. And then Aunt Anna said, “I’m going to leave you with Pippa, Maddalyn.” But then she reached for me and pulled me into a hug. It was the first time I’d been hugged in public, and I didn’t know what to make of it, but I hugged her back.

  “Thank you,” I whispered to her. “I will not...” Then I struggled and finally was able to say, “Disappoint you.”

  “I know,” she said, releasing me. “You may contact me if you need anything. Otherwise, I’ll check on you periodically.”

  Then she slipped away, and I watched after her, feeling a little loss. But then Pippa stepped closer, setting her hand on my arm. “Come on. I can take you to housing first. We can ditch the luggage, and I’ll show you the rest of the campus.”

  I understood one word in three, so I turned to her. “My English is poor. Please speak slowly.”

  “Oh,” she said. Then she spoke very slowly. “Where. Are. You. From?”