Chapter 8
“Y ou spoke to a large group very well,” Eashai said as we walked down a tree-lined sidewalk leaving the conference center. On the other side of the trees, hovering vehicles passed along a road that seemed to be made of short-cut grass.
I laughed. “I’ve had plenty of practice. Nothing prepares you to speak and answer questions about a topic better than teaching.”
“Do you like teaching?”
I smiled. “I do. Granted, I love the research too, and working at a university is one of the best places to do that. But there’s something special about helping the next generation learn the knowledge and tools that they need.
Their eyes light up when they understand something, and it’s beyond satisfying to watch their internal celebrations when they overcome a difficult problem. ”
“I considered teaching,” Eashai said. “However, after appearing for several guest lectures, I decided it was not the right path.”
“It’s not for everyone,” I agreed. “I love it, but I’ll admit it is challenging. For me, even worse than the admin side are the students who feel obligated to be there.”
“Is school not mandatory for your children?”
I laughed. “School is mandatory through what we call high school. Beyond that, however, it is their choice… usually.”
“Explain.”
“I teach at a university, which is where education becomes much more specialized. Even in high school, it’s general knowledge: basic math, history, easy sciences, languages, things like that. Colleges—and universities—are where they go to learn about the things that will be specific to their jobs.”
“Ah, yes, I remember now. We were given basic information about your education system, though it varied enough by country that it was merely a cursory explanation. So, all students go to university?”
I shook my head. “There are trade schools and apprenticeships for some jobs, careers where hands-on practical learning is a better approach than the heavy knowledge base of college. And some choose not to pursue education beyond high school at all. Some in our society look down on them, but some jobs have to be done that don’t require advanced degrees. ”
“So, then, how are some students obligated to learn from you?”
“Family pressure, usually. Some humans get prideful about their work. Family members have done the same job through many generations, and they expect their children to follow in their path. But they forget their children are not them, and have their own dreams and goals. Just because a family has had doctors for five generations doesn’t mean the kid in front of me wants to be a doctor.
They might want to be an accountant or a welder…
or a scuba instructor. But they’re afraid of going against the family’s demands.
So they sit in my class, miserable, and only put in as much effort as it takes to not get in trouble. ”
“That does not sound pleasant.”
I shook my head. “It isn’t, for anybody.
They hate it. I can tell they hate it, and that makes it harder for me to do my job.
And often it ends up being for nothing. Some rebel and tell their families they’re doing what they want instead.
Others subconsciously self-sabotage. Of course, some’ll excel and be brilliant in their careers, but I always wonder how happy they really are. ”
“That is a shame.”
“I agree,” I stated, then. “If you don’t mind changing the subject, I noticed we keep passing trees with fruit.”
“Ah, the gapcha. Would you like to try one?”
“They’re edible, not ornamental?”
“Yes, and I am rather partial to them.” He paused as we approached another fruiting tree, reached up, and picked two of the fruits. He then handed one to me.
“You can just take them?”
He cocked his head to one side. “Of course. The fruits here are for anybody.”
“Nobody comes to pick them all just to sell them?”
“There are permits for those who wish to pick and sell. They are normally granted to youth as a way to encourage community. Elderly and those with demanding jobs will usually have a few people they rely on to pick for them at a reasonable price.”
“So people can just take as many as they like?”
He bit into the fruit and nodded. A moment later he continued. “Yes. There is plenty for everybody, and many families have favorite serving and preservation recipes.”
“What happens if they’re not all picked before they’re overripe?”
“If the fruit is getting too ripe, then city crews will harvest and the crop will be sent for processing.”
“Is all food like this?”
He laughed. “No. Popular fruit trees from each season were selected for public planting. If you look, you will see several varieties, each in a different stage of its cycle. In this manner, there is always something available for anyone who wishes. Other food is managed by farms and sent to stores, much like on Earth.”
“I think I get it,” I replied. I looked at the dark purple fruit in my hand. “What did you call this again?”
“These are gapcha, the trees bear the fruit in winter.”
“This is winter?”
He nodded. “We have seasons, the same as Earth. However, they are less extreme. The clouds block much solar radiation, and also work to retain and redistribute heat.”
“I see.” I bit into the fruit. The flavor was reminiscent of a cross between an apple and a blueberry, but the flesh was soft and juicy like a ripe peach.
“Well?” Eashai asked, then took another bite of his.
I chuckled. “It’s good. It tastes like a blend of several Earth fruits.”
He laughed. “And I felt that some Earth fruits were lacking flavor complexity. If you do not mind, I would like to try the blend of what it reminds you of.”
I nodded. “Of course.”
We resumed walking—in silence until we finished our treats—then we disposed of the pits in convenient rubbish bins.
“You have to go to your lab this afternoon, right?” I asked.
“That is correct. New samples were sent with us. I must confirm that there were no issues, then I will discuss testing parameters with my team here.”
“I thought you’d already done most of the testing that we’re doing on Earth.”
“We have, though we will occasionally revisit based on your results. Our work here is now focused on ensuring the safety of the baby girls who will be born. We do not wish to separate our volunteers from their families. To that end, we are conducting every test possible to verify that the disease that killed our women has been eliminated.”
“How are things looking?”
He paused and looked at me. “Hopeful. However, we are cautious. Even with our advanced technology, we cannot prevent the degradation of records over the course of two millennia. Systems fail or become outdated. Handwritten records have been carefully preserved, but are still incomplete. We are attempting to piece together information lost to time. In many ways, it is almost as if we have started the search anew. We look to the past for guidance, but we do not let it restrain us. We must either develop a cure or prove beyond any doubt that the virus failed to survive once our women were lost. Those are the only outcomes we will allow ourselves.”
“Like looking for a needle in a needlestack.”
“Pardon?” he asked with a confused expression.
I chuckled. “The phrase is normally ‘like looking for a needle in a haystack.’ It means you’re looking for something small and very hard to spot in an abundance of something else just similar enough to make it a challenge.
But I had a friend who owned a puzzle of a needle in a needlestack.
I’m not sure if you’re familiar with jigsaw puzzles, but they’re images printed on cardboard, then cut into interlocking pieces.
They come disassembled, and the challenge is to put the picture together.
Usually, with puzzles, you can approximate where a piece goes by color, what elements are on it, and other context clues.
But there were no context clues in the ‘needle in a needlestack’ puzzle.
Every piece had parts of the photo of needles.
So completing that puzzle consisted of much more trial-and-error. ”
He had a thoughtful expression, then nodded.
“I believe I understand your analogy now. Both the puzzle and the… needle in a needlestack… itself. The research is trial and error, but among all the potential viruses we must test to determine if they are mutated from the one long ago, we do not know which… needle… we are looking for.”
I grinned. “You get it!”
He smiled. “I must remember that phrase for later.”
I laughed. “Just remember that it’s normally a needle in a haystack. I don’t know how many would get the reference of a needle in a needlestack.”
His eyes crinkled around the edges as he echoed my laugh. “I will keep that in mind.”
I bumped his shoulder with mine as we started walking again. “So do I get to see your lab?”
He hummed. “I would not be opposed. However, due to the technological differences between us, I must seek approval.”
“Oh…” I sighed. “I get it, though. Maybe not at the university, but I’ve been in labs where visitors had to get clearance before.”
“I should know by tomorrow,” Eashai stated.
“So I should just hang out at your place this afternoon?”
“I would rather you enjoy yourself. There is a beach not far from here, and a regular transport makes access easy. Or…”
I chuckled.
“What is funny?” he asked.
“I’m kind of lost without you. I don’t speak the language, have no idea where I’m going, and I doubt any businesses here take credit cards.”
He blinked several times. “But the…” then the color drained from his face. “I forgot!”
“Forgot what?”
“My apologies, Gene,” he blabbered as he hustled to what looked like some sort of decorative column between the road and sidewalk. “It was my intention to add you to the visitor database yesterday, but…”
I caught up to him and put my hand on his shoulder. “Hey. It’s ok. You had other things on your mind.”
He turned to me with a gentle smile. “Still, it is something I should have done.”