I did not understand, but I bowed, murmuring, “Mentor,” to show I had heard. “Mentor” is a word that may be politely used to any older person of any caste who is instructing one.
The selector shuffled papers on the desk and came up with one that seemed applicable, for le looked at it as le said, “Tomorrow morning, someone will go to creche central and assist the manager in caring for the infants. Be there at the beginning of work hour.”
There was only one reply allowed, as I well knew. “Yes, Selector.”
The door behind me opened. I bowed, turned, and went out. The family had departed except for my nootch, and it was ke who took my hand and walked with me down the stairs. “What is Chiddy’s first duty?” ke asked.
“Help the creche manager,” I said, only then beginning to think how strange that was. Why the creche manager? “Why . . . ?” I started to ask, only to have ker fingers laid gently across my lips.
“Why not?” ker said.
I was to think of that over and over in the time that followed. Why not? Why not anything, or everything?
I was at the central creche when it opened in the morning. Family nootchi were leaving off babies, the creche nootchi were dandling them or winding them in hammocks or hanging the fretful ones upside down and walking them. I was put to walking, which I did, a baby hung from my shoulder by his toes and my hand pat-patting it on the back, the way the others were doing. When it sicked on me, I washed up and was given a smock to wear. So the day went, dandling and walking and making frequent trips to the sandbox, with much changing of underwraps when we didn’t make it in time. It did not seem like work, though it wasn’t play, either. It was not unpleasant, not arduous, not enjoyable. Just . . . neutral. Since it was my inclination to ask questions, I did so. Many of them. After four days of this, the manager told me to return to the selector.
On the morrow, I did so. It was not the same selector, though the words and attitudes were similar.
“When someone leaves here, go to the agricultural school and see the field superintendent.”
So, I did that, and for the next four days, I joined the school campesi and hoed weeds out of the grain rows. This was dirtier than the former work, and it was harder, too. It was so hot we all panted, water dripping from our mouth parts, but I enjoyed it more than the creche, being out in the sun and hearing the birds arguing in the trees at the field side. On the fourth day, the superintendent sent me to the greenhouses, where I did similar work, pulling weeds out of beds of seedlings. Then I spent two days learning how the records were kept, and another few days helping the record keeper. It was interesting enough for the nine or ten days I was there, and I learned a lot from the things I asked people.
Then it was back to the selector again, who told someone to ascend one level and go to the fourth selector on the right, and I did that. It was like the first one all over again. Le gave me things to do, le watched closely while I did them, but le didn’t seem to care how well I did them. I spent a cluster cleaning the laboratories. I spent a cluster at the theater, helping paint sets. I worked with a whole string of finisi, an artist in paint, a dancer, a designer of costumes. I was sent up another level and spent a long, long time directing a crew of ten-year-olds who were planting seedlings on the sanctuary hill as an autumn duty. As soon as their toe hooks fall off, when their wings begin to grow, around age six, all children have autumn duties and spring duties, things that are done for the community. I had planted my share of seedlings between ages six and eleven.