Paraworld Zero (16 page)

    “You should have seen the look on Mrs. Larz’s face,” Tonya said, laughing.
“She was so furious. That was quick thinking, Simon. I don’t think I could have made all that up
so fast.”

    “But I wasn’t making it up,” Simon said.

    “Of course you were. You can’t read ancient Pu—” She stopped herself,
suddenly recalling how Simon had miraculously learned the Pudo language just after waking up from
his coma. “You
weren’t
making it up?”

    “No.”

    Thorn chimed in, “Wow! Do you know what this means? Simon could solve the
mysteries of Pudo’s history. Our scientists still don’t know what the aliens looked like and how
they invaded the planet so quickly without being detected.”

    Simon adjusted his glasses. “I don’t think they were aliens.”

    “Really? That contradicts everything our scientists have claimed for
generations! We should go to the library after school. I wonder if they’d let us into the
historical section so you could read some of the ancient history books.”

    Tonya responded sarcastically, “That sounds
real
fun, but after school, Simon has therapy—with me.”

    “Oh, come on, Simon,” Thorn said. “You can miss one therapy session.”

    “Well, I guess I could.”

    Tonya frowned and was about to say something, but the school bell cut her
off. “Oh, darn. We’re late for physics class,” she said wryly.

    

    

    Physics class was as boring as ever and so was computer science,
microbiology, and genetics. When school ended for the day, Simon and Thornapple went to the
library, but Tonya decided to go home.

    The library was a magnificent building, made of thick granite walls that
climbed upwards towards the sky. The courthouse, the sheriff’s department, and several other
prominent buildings stood within the same complex as the library.

    Simon felt as if he were about to enter the cave of a huge stone mountain.
Thornapple pushed the humongous library doors open, and the two children made their way through
the many 3-D terminals that lined the walkway. They passed a group of three-year-olds who were
sitting on the ground, listening to a hologram explain how “our bodies are made of atomic
molecules.” Simon used to love libraries and the way they gave him the opportunity to escape from
reality; however, the Pudo library was in no way a fun place to visit.

    Thornapple walked over the hard marble floor to the front desk, where a
decrepit old man slept. Simon, sitting in his hover chair, rose a couple of feet to meet the
librarian, but the chair wouldn’t go high enough for him to see the man face-to-face.

    “Excuse me, but could you let us into the sealed portion of the library?”
Thorn asked politely.

    The old man didn’t answer. He wore a red and white outfit with little mittens
over his hands and a cone-shaped cap that covered his long white hair. If gnomes existed, they’d
look just like this librarian. Simon laughed out loud at the thought, causing the sleeping man to
wake up with a grunt.

    Startled, the librarian peered over his tall desk at the boys below and said
in a thick, drawled accent, “
Shhh,
don’t ya know you’re in a library, boys?”

    “Yes,” said Thorn. “We want to see the sealed portion of the library.”

    “Sorry—can’t help ya,” the whimsical old man replied. “But I do have the
newest edition of
Mathematicians Weekly
.”

    “No, thank you,” Simon said.

    “Well, now—how ’bout the Scientific Lecture Series? I hear they’re better
than the four-volume set that came out last year.”

    “Maybe later,” Thorn said. “Why can’t we see the sealed portion of the
library?”

    “Wouldn’t be sealed if I opened it!” The old man chuckled loudly.

    “
Shhh!
” another old librarian scolded from across the room.

    “Oh, don’t let your knickers get so tight. I’m just try’n to help these two
boys.”

    The old woman scoffed at the comment and ran over to help a group of patrons
who had just entered the main door.

    “Oh, hello, boys. May I help you?” the old man said, as if he had forgotten
all about their previous conversation.

    Simon frowned. “Uh, can you direct us to the sealed portion of the
library?”

    “Why, certainly!” The librarian pointed to a steel door with a digital keypad
embedded in the wall directly behind his oversized desk. “Now,” he said, getting ready to share
his joke again, “do ya know why I can’t letch-ya in?”

    “Because it wouldn’t be sealed if you opened it?” Simon said, grinning at the
peculiar man.

    “Yeah!” he roared. “You’ve heard that one before, haven’t you?”

    “Glumly!
SHHH!
” hissed the other librarian from across the room.

    “
Ahh!
” The old man waved his hand to brush her off. He looked at Simon and Thorn with a
puzzled expression and then said, “Oh, hello. Welcome to the library, boys. Did ya know this
great building is the only thing that survived the Battle of Lisardious?”

    “No,” Simon said, trying to hold back his laughter. “I didn’t know
that.”

    “So, what can I do you for?”

    “We were just browsing,” Thorn said in a discouraged tone.

    “Well, enjoy yourselves.” The old librarian shuffled some papers
around.

    “Come on, Simon,” Thorn said. “Let’s go home.”

    They left the building and took a shortcut under the pavilion which was being
set up for next week’s dance. Dr. Troodle’s home stood within eyesight of the library, and as
they walked towards the house, something strange grabbed their attention. A large mammal with
massive hind legs and a wide, muscular body grazed on the grass not too far from the Troodle’s
front porch.

    “Oh, no,” Thorn groaned.

    “What is it?”

    “It’s a farbearus.”

    Thorn ignored the animal completely and rushed to the front door but
hesitated to open it when he heard the loud conversation coming from inside.

    “We bought him fair and square! You yourself signed the contract,” Mrs.
Troodle’s harsh voice sounded.

    “Yes, but seven years—so long,” came the agonized reply.

    “You should be grateful Har is in a home like ours.”

    “I is grateful,” Har’s mother said in a drawn-out voice, “but next
week—little Har’s birthday. Please let little Har be with family. Please.”

    Simon’s eyes widened at hearing Har’s mother describe her son as being
little
. He shuddered at Mrs. Troodle’s response.

    “Get out of
here—now—before I call the police and have you sent to the mines. We still have six good
years out of him. I don’t want to see your ugly face until then!”

    The front door flew open and almost knocked the boys off the porch. A large,
hunched-over woman staggered out. From what Simon could see, she had looped earrings, dark,
leathery skin, and a hideous face full of scars. Simon grimaced. But just as the giant strode
off, he looked more closely and realized she also had big blue eyes full of tears. All the
coarseness of her appearance seemed to wash away with those watery tears, and, for a brief
moment, Simon glimpsed her inner beauty and the love she had for her son. His heart ached in
sympathy for the pathetic creature, but there was nothing he could do to help her.

    

    

    That night at dinner, the Troodles discussed the upcoming celebration and the
historical significance behind the Battle of Lisardious with great enthusiasm.

    “…and if it wasn’t for the genius of the small Puds, we wouldn’t even be
here today,” said Dr. Troodle.

    “Quite true,” his wife said. “But sometimes I wish the aliens would have
gotten rid of a
certain group
of Puds.” She nodded to Har as he refilled her glass.

    “But, Sweetie,” Dr. Troodle countered, “if we didn’t have the big Puds, who
would do the menial labor?”

    “You’re right again.” She smiled. “So, children, what did you learn in school
today?”

    Tonya looked up from her plate of seeds and grass and said, “I learned about
the same amount of information today as I did yesterday.” She finished the rest of her sentence
in her mind—
which was equivalent to nothing.

    “Wonderful!” Mrs. Troodle laughed mechanically.

    Thorn squirmed excitedly in his seat. “Simon discovered the true translation
of the ancient writings of the Battle of Lisardious.”

    “Fantastic!”

    “Wait a second,” Dr. Troodle argued. “The history of the Battle of Lisardious
has already been translated.”

    “Yes,” Thorn said, “but our scholars messed up. Simon can read the ancient
language correctly.”

    “That’s ridiculous,” his father said with a half smile. “So, Simon, what
exactly did
you
see in the ancient text that our
best scholars
didn’t see?”

    Thorn answered on Simon’s behalf. “He found out that the enemy invaders who
almost destroyed the planet weren’t really aliens.”

    “Then where did they come from?” asked Mrs. Troodle.

    “From the ocean—I think,” Simon said quietly.

    Dr. Troodle laughed heartily. “So you think our entire civilization was
almost annihilated by a bunch of fish?” He held up his plate.

    Simon was sadly reminded of what they were having for dinner: some sort of
blue jellyfish with three black eel heads jutting out of the top. Mrs. Troodle chortled at her
husband’s witty remark. Her fake laughter, mixed with occasional snorts, was starting to get on
Simon’s nerves.

    “Simon, you have such a wild imagination,” she said. “And I suppose that’s
acceptable behavior for someone… well, for someone with an inferior intellect, but people on Pudo
don’t waste time using their minds for frivolous activities. I’m surprised at you, Thornapple,
for allowing yourself to start
… imagining things.
”

    “Mother, we weren’t just wasting our time
imagining
what happened to the ancient Puds,” Thorn said. “We even tried to get more
information at the library.”

    Dr. Troodle raised his eyebrows. “Children, if you find you don’t know
something, just ask us. We pretty much know everything there is to know.”

    “That’s right,” Mrs. Troodle said proudly. “Go ahead, Simon, ask us
anything.”

    At first, Simon couldn’t think of anything to ask, but then he remembered the
dream he had that morning.

    “What does
civility
mean?”

    “Good question,” the woman said, beaming. “Civility means being polite and
courteous to others.”

    Dr. Troodle added, “It also means being a good citizen and showing respect to
everyone you come in contact with.”

    Simon nodded and asked, “And what does
equality
mean?”

    “Goodness, Simon, where did you come up with these words?” asked Mrs.
Troodle.

    “I heard them in a dream.”

    “Heard them in a dream,” the woman repeated, shaking her head. “See, Simon,
that’s exactly what I was talking about. Even in your dreams, your mind wanders around aimlessly,
thinking of unimportant things.” Simon gave her an earnest look, and she sighed. “Think of
equality as a math problem: 1 + 1 = 2. When both sides of an equation are equal to each other, we
have equality.”

    Simon frowned. “I didn’t think it had anything to do with math.”

    Dr. Troodle chuckled. “Sweetie, remember who you’re talking to. You can’t
just throw out math problems to someone like Simon and expect him to understand them.”

    Simon clenched his fists under the table to control the anger that swelled
inside him. He knew he wasn’t that great at math, but being treated as if he were an idiot was
infuriating.

    “You’re quite right, Honey—like always,” she said. “Equality deals more with
people. It means that everyone should be given the same rights and the same opportunities. So
when people aren’t treated as equals, you have the opposite of equality. Does that make
sense?”

    “Yeah,” Simon said, “so it’s kinda like the situation between the big Puds
and the small Puds.”

    Dr. Troodle choked on his drink and sprayed liquid everywhere—some of it even
came out his nose. Thorn’s eyes expanded, and Mrs. Troodle looked like she was about to explode.
But before anyone could say another word, Tonya suddenly screamed, “I can’t stand it any
longer!”

    The red-haired girl sank her fork into one of the eels protruding from
Simon’s jellyfish and ripped it away from the strange organism. She gnawed at the eel like a dog
attacking a bone. Ripping through the tough skin with her bare teeth, she made her way to the
tender meat inside.

    Everyone else just sat there with their mouths hanging open in shock. Thorn
was the first to respond. “Wouldn’t the Elders be a little upset with you, Butblacruze?”

    Through a mouthful of meat, she muttered, “The Elders can just kiss
my—”

    “Tonya!” Simon stopped her. “What’s wrong with you?”

    The young girl looked at Simon. Tears welled up in her eyes. Without warning,
she threw the eel down on the table and ran to her room.

    “That girl’s been acting strangely ever since she got home from school,” Mrs.
Troodle commented.

    Simon scooted into his hover chair and followed after her.

    “Tonya,” he called from behind the closed door. “Tonya, can I come in?”

    “
NO!
”

    “Tonya, what’s wrong?”