A Tale Of Two Planets

Chapter 14 - Bobby and Margot

"Oh—if it isn't Dorothea." The astonished figure of Bobby was bouncing outside the room. She clasped her hands, then, taking hold of the frame, entered. "I'm looking for Margot. She was wheeled in here, by mistake I believe. Being asleep in her chair, anyone would think her hurt—"

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"—or drunk," shaking her head. "Our rocket's delayed, you see. Something about a missing engine. I'm sure it sounds worse than it is. To be frank, I didn't even know rockets had engines— So, we'll be staying a few nights more. Where are you staying?" Bobby cast a look about the room. "Apart from in a hospital?"

"Just a hotel, don't know the name. Perhaps the same as yours?"

"Well then, we'll just have to see, sweetheart." Bobby squeezed Dorothea's arm. Then suddenly she strode off, returning with a piece of plastic in tow, offering a grimace as she joined the hard seat.

Dorothea frowned. "Is Margot hurt?"

"Margot'll be fine. She's just lost. And perhaps a tiny bit tipsy."

"Tell me something, Bobby."

"Mmmh, what's that, dear?"

Dorothea shrugged. "Just anything. Tell me something soothing." She fidgeted with the tube leading into her arm. "Pass my time, if you please."

"No. You don't want me to talk. I'm a teacher, you see. Or I was, a hundred years ago. I've talked enough."

"You've got kids?"

"What? No. Heavens no. I'm more of a decease-person. Got three big ones so far. One's a bit of a pseudo-bohemian, won't amount to much. But the other two are coming along, well behaved, building a regular curve at the doctor's office—" Bobby paused, observing Dorothea's falling face. "It's not that bad. I've grown attached to them. Or rather, they've grown attached to me. But let's leave it for another day. We're in a hospital for crying out loud. One can have enough of deceases and broken limbs. Ask me a question then?"

"Why a teacher?"

"I don't know," looking at her hands. "It's only work. No more, no less. I couldn't spend my time unoccupied, could I?

"Did you like it?"

"Well— I tried being a designer. That failed—no one would admit to the concept. The art-bit I guess, too diffuse. I couldn't talk to anyone, people avoiding eye contact. A real bugger in the social system, being a designer, create stuff. So I tried teacher. Piece of cake. Now people expect me to talk, about anything really—lecture on a piece of rope, that's fine, a real pipe-cleaner."

"I bet you taught history, or languages?"

"I taught whatever people wanted me to teach them. I looked things up, read a lot, and then conveyed my newly established knowledge to my pupils. They asked, and I told. They needed seminars, something to call an education. And diplomas - diplomas are great if you want a job, or a raise. Or just a reason to talk about yourself for a while. So we joined forces - I became their teacher and they became my pupils. And an educational system was born." Bobby paused, looking at the screen on the wall. "What's that thing for?"

"Information."

"Oh really? Well then, dear monitor, tell me what time it is, please." The monitor responded and Bobby brightened up. A row of numbers, red digits declaring day turning into afternoon. "So—" clasping her knees, "now I've talked enough. I should try and find my partner, and my furniture. My wheelchair'd be better off with you right now. You're not walkable, are you?"

"I'm not sure."

"Wait, and I'll see if I can find that thing, along with Margot." Bobby disappeared out of the room.