01 Taxilas Children

TAXILA'S CHILDREN
The problem was the language. It was obvious that few of them possessed the Gift. It left a
lot to be desired when trying to convey thoughts by gestures and facial expressions. Steve
sensed that it wasn't the only problem with the succession of visitors who came and went. It
was as if they did not want to get too close. Some would come, almost to look him over and
go again without explanation or overtures of friendship. He began to feel like a freak.
Something had to be done about verbal communication. He decided to raise the matter of
language lessons with Jabez when he paid his usual evening visit.
Steve was getting stronger and was able to sit up in bed. It was good to lean back against
the cool of the stone wall behind it. The days were quite warm and the room was flooded by
the light from their star. His curiosity about the outside was nearly driving him crazy. He was
on a planet not yet visited by man. As far as he knew, he was the first of his kind to visit any
planet outside of the Solar System and yet, he didn't have a clue about his environment.
His evening meal arrived, carried by a beaming Caela. Now that she was over her fright
with the Bole and especially when she wasn't under the shadow of Jabez, who bullied her
with a sharp tongue, she became the giggling matron, as tongue tied as a young girl. Steve
enjoyed a mild flirtation, he had to keep his technique honed in case a more serious
opportunity presented itself. This evening was not any different. He ran his fingers up her
brawny forearm, as she placed the food beside the bed. She giggled and blushed and
pretended she didn't like it, whilst he grinned at her and tried to look lecherous. It was a game
they played every evening and she seemed to go away happy. He was now strong enough to
feed himself. He thought, that in a way, she wished that he was not.
He promised himself that he was going to make a few steps the next day. He had to try to
get mobility back into his legs, otherwise he would stay weak. The pattern was never varied,
during the day he was left alone. They all went off somewhere and came back in the evening.
The subject of where they went was never raised during his conversations with Jabez.
However, he did raise the matter of language lessons. The old man listened carefully and then
waffled.
"My Lord pays us a great honour that he chooses to learn our tongue. I will assign a
teacher - one who is Gifted."
It was left at that and he wondered what approach the new contact would bring. He
resigned himself to an earnest and solemn equivalent of Jabez, who would conduct the
lessons on his hands and knees on the floor, not daring to look up at him. He was in for a
surprise, a very pleasant surprise, but that wasn't until the following evening, after Jabez
returned from the day's toil.
As soon as the house grew quiet and after he had eaten his morning meal and endured the
attentions of the men who had been assigned to assist him in his ablutions, he made his move.
He made completely sure that the house was deserted and tried his first unassisted movement
from the bed.
Before he tried to do anything, he formed a tentative plan. As long as his legs would
support him, he would be all right but he couldn't expect miracles. He had been out of action
for too long. He decided to prop his back against the walls and ease himself gently along. If
his legs gave up, he could always crawl back to bed. It wouldn't be dignified but he didn't
expect an audience.
His bed was in the corner of the room and opposite the door. The window was on the wall
where the head of the bed was. It was logical to try the window first. His legs caved like
rubber but at least, he managed to stand. The bed cover dropped to the floor with his
exertions. He didn't dare to try to pick it up, he would have toppled on to his face. The stone
wall was cold against his bare flesh and rough. He took things very easily. He reached the
window, panting and streaming with sweat.
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