(Excerpt)
“What do you think of the sauce, Little Janey?”
Janey gurgled in response, and dribbled some too.
“Have you been practicing the spells Grandma taught you?”
“Yeah sure.”
“It will be time soon for your stint at the Academy,” Mommy raised an eyebrow in a way she hoped was mysterious, “where you’ll meet all kinds of boys and girls your own age.”
“I’ll miss you so much, Mommy!” Janey was licking her plate clean.
“I’m sure I’ll miss you very much too, my darling.”
“Can I bring Miss Perkins and Miss Robespierre and Miss Jubilee?”
“No dear. The Academy is a place of learning and refinement. There are to be no toys, sentient or otherwise.”
Janey uttered a high-pitched shriek and smeared sauce on her brow. She gurgled and spat.
“Those spells Grandma teaches will protect you from the other students, who might try to meddle with you at times,” Mommy elaborated, “so it is your duty to learn them well. Although you aren’t fluent in Rommus-lek quite yet, it will come in time. As all things.”
“What’s so special about the Capital? We have everything we need right here! Who cares if I never learn anything?”
“Every citizen must make their pilgrimage to Gygen-Rommus. You should consider yourself lucky that you get to spend that time at the Academy – most are sent straight to the military conditioning camps. It’s time for you to bring Grandma her dinner.”
“When I see the minister I’m gonna blast him with my rifle! The secretaries and the proctors too! I don’t need any spells or cubes or people!”
“Be sure to tell Grandma.”
Her lower lip quivered. She stared at Mommy with a brooding mania reserved only for her most dedicated performances.
“Inqaaru jawin minkra,” she began, fingers curling in involuntary spasms, “Knock-knock moogersh, gri gri krogisnala!”
Mommy gazed at her with agitated resignation. Her face betrayed no wisp of feeling or intent. She focused on the future as instructed. This room and her daughter were merely illusions to be endured.
“I enjoy it gigantically when you practice your syllables. Tell me: what is the objective of that incantation?”
“You’re supposed to shrink to the size of a thimble.”
“And can you tell me why I didn’t?”
“Of course. You rub that foul-smelling lotion all over you.”
“I use my intuition, darling. I can tell by your concentration that you are up to mischief. An accomplished witch lets no one into her mind.”
Janey sank back into her seat. “I’m still hungry,” she quipped.
“You’ll not get anymore food,” Mommy gushed, “Until you go up to Grandma! No games, no kaleidoscope! Move it, witch.”
The little one sulked out of the room, and Mommy closed her eyes meditatively. Soon there would be no need to constantly battle and assert her authority. She relished the approaching thrill with a noxious grinding of her nearly flat teeth. Janey would certainly drown at the academy. There was no way she could learn the correct pronunciation, poise, and speed with which to carry off a successful spell in the two weeks she had before her departure. Grandma would of course drill her mercilessly as always, but even her patience had its limits.
Mommy rose from the already closed table and allowed a smile to access her thin lips. The room sounded a gentle hum as the insides of the table churned in vigorous sanitation. She moved, ghost-like, along the left wall, feeling the vibration of meals past. The dining room opened onto a long hallway with grotesquely tapestried walls. Mirrors measuring one foot by three feet were placed at two foot intervals along each wall. Between each mirror was a blue glow-tube. The walls were crawling with serpentine images and distorted faces. Mommy quickened her pace.
At the end of the hallway was a large grey door. Mommy approached with great enthusiasm. Her fingers curled and her palms sweated. On the right-hand side of the door was a scanner surrounded by flowing script: “Access Panel”. She halted her passage in front of the scanner – it was directly on eye level. In fact, it looked like an eye. The outer iris glowed a dim red and traced down to a point in the center. The door slid open without a sound.
The interior chamber was circularly-shaped and about 10 feet in diameter. The walls were of a reflective material and the floor and ceiling were black. A single disk of light shone from the middle of the ceiling; it was 1 foot in diameter and of a mellow cast. Mommy stood directly underneath it and it shut off.
“Rommus chou-leck. Open.”
A song of lights twinkled across the circumference of the room, illuminating and reflecting Mommy’s image thousands of times in brilliant flashes. She experienced the customary vertigo and sense of rotation. As the twinkling moved faster the walls appeared to expand outward, as did the edge of the ceiling, until the depth of the room was beyond measure. She was between two endless black planes, one above and one below. Distance increased in every direction besides up and down. Light came evenly across the infinitude like a permanent mid-day fog.
On the horizon she saw two figures approaching rapidly. Their pace was not great; travel in this room was greatly exaggerated. Within thirty seconds they were in her immediate space. Both were Manoks, 7 feet tall and 3 feet wide. The figure on the left was the Minister of Defense. He had a shock of red hair atop his metallic skull and wore the grey cloak which indicated a highly mechanized personage. The cloak covered his entire torso and stopped at mid-thigh, revealing cobalt-colored legs and large grey spring-boots. To his right stood the Minister of Mercy, a hairless, cheery fellow with copper-colored skin and puppy-dog eyes. He was dressed in a fashionable tweed suit and carried a mahogany briefcase. He nodded warmly and addressed Mommy in control-speech.
Although he spoke in glib wavelengths, Mommy tensed, not expecting the platform he used. At that particular level only the very trusted officials could maintain their conscious thought without feeding the overwhelming urge to supplicate and reveal all intention once the subsequent command was given. If she had not been a well-practiced Ro’chana (and a member of the inner command circle) she would have fallen to her knees and been subject to their will. The fact that he was using such a platform on this routine occasion irritated her but also left traces of apprehension; was something amiss in the capital? Had sensors picked up devious activity amidst the other domes? He must be testing her control-maintenance, making sure she wasn’t allowing laxness in her abilities from too little practice. She reminded herself that it was a valid consideration in case of any trouble from the domes; in the event of an insurrection her once divinely-noted witchcraft would have to be in top form, and her years at the homestead interacting solely with Grandma and Little Janey weren’t conditioning her for a lasting prowess.
Readying herself, she addressed the Manoks, feeling not even a shadow of the coming storm.
