Lords

So stupid of me. I could've placed a mental block on myself and not having to worry about blurting out anything. Why didn't I think of that sooner?

"Seems I was right. That look of despair tells me more than a hundred words could. But there's no need to worry. Who or whatever you are, I am still your mother. And I've helped you with your act of being a 'wee lil' dumb baby boy', but you and I both know you owe me some answers."

She's not wrong, it's just that it's not easy to talk about this.

"So are you going to answer me?"

I looked up at her freckled face and dark brown eyes, and made up mind.

"Need to know."

"You're not going to tell me everything I want to know, huh? Well, that's fine as long as you help me make at least some sense of the situation. Like how do you have all this knowledge?"

"Not telling."

"Okay, bad start. What will you tell me then? What do you know, for instance?"

"Exhausting to enumerate."

"Holy crap, those are two words your 9 year old sister couldn't even pronounce! I should really get you to a research facility."

My look of shock must have been apparent again, since she started laughing – I really need to start working on my poker face.

"Oh, don't worry, I'm just teasing you. No mother would ever want her child to end up as a lab rat. But please elaborate on that exhaustive knowledge. Do you for instance know physics?"

"Yes."

"That was a bit vague. What part of physics?"

"Everything."

"Oh. Wow. So… I'm thinking maths too?"

"Of course. And every science."

"Holy crap to the third power! History then?"

I started laughing. Woman, I'm history incarnate. Oh, damn, am I giving away too much?

"I see, so your knowledge of history is even better than that of sciences." She's just too damn smart. "But what about geography then?"

"Good enough." I was Columbus' cartographer on the Santa Maria and in ancient Babylon I practically invented the basics of topology, so 'good enough' is a huge understatement, but I'm not willing to give away any more than needed to satisfy her.

"Good enough… That's a modest way of saying 'better than I can imagine', huh? But it doesn't matter. What about arts?"

That's a tricky one. I have pieces on display in the Guggenheim, the Louvre and hundreds of other museums around the world, some in the art section, but most in archeology.

"Adequate."

"There you go with big words again. Do you even know how ridiculous that sounds out of your mouth? I'm really having a hard time understanding this. Oh, on this topic, what about linguistics?"

As I know most languages ever invented by mankind, this is yet another tricky one. Let's go with…

"Genügend."

She told me she studied a bit of German, so let's test her a bit while she's testing me.

"Enough? That simple, huh? Well, since you know mostly everything a human could possibly know… Oh, before that, what about m.a.k.i.n.g. .l.o.v.e?"

Well, that's an inappropriate thing to talk about with your child of 6 months. I blush, but nod shyly. She laughs and blushes a bit too.

"No more tit-s.u.c.k.i.n.g for you then, my boy." Should've seen that coming. "So… are you even human?"

"Yes!" I'm eager to have her understand, that while this definitely falls in the paranormal category, I am as human as it gets.

"Okay. But would you even tell me if you weren't?"

Oh, I see, instead of asking me directly, she's testing philosophy on me.

"Probably. I don't know, I am human, after all." I add a coy smile, and she looks puzzled.

"Well, this got me nowhere fast. You know everything, but won't tell me how. What kind of child are you, torturing your mother like that? For a scientist, this is pure torture, you know?" She even puts on a sad face, but it's quite obvious it is an act.

Is she trying to get me to reveal… emotions? Yeah, it's basic manipulation on an emotional level. She's really desperate for answers. I should do something about that.

"Knowing would be worse. But I do love you, mother." As I tell her that, I walk towards her and hug her legs, still looking in her eyes with a bright smile. It's true, though, I do feel a mother-son bond with her, and she is amazing.

"Aww, I just can't get mad at you. I love you too. You're my most precious son, you know that?" I can somehow feel that's the case, as she spends way more time with me than the other kids. She doesn't neglect them, but our exchanges are probably way more stimulating to her, than the usual "Dorothy, 'ow many times 'ave I told ya' not to slap yer broda' with the fish yer gonna eat in 'alf an 'our?". Even before today, without talking, I reacted to her stories like a mute but smart a.d.u.l.t, and as far as I can tell, she loves it.

"Anyways, let's get back to fixing this old thing, we can have some proper conversations later, but I still need to make dinner for the household, and I'd like to finish this before that."

As she talks, she pushes the ignition button, and sure enough, the old tractor gives a horrible sound as its inner electronics get fried. She looks puzzled for a bit, but then starts laughing.

"Oh right, that's what you were trying to warn me about. Well, it seems that this will take another day's work to fix then, so we're done for today."

I shake my head and hand her a pair of pliers. Since there's no need for me to stay quiet anymore, I'm sure I can guide her to fix this in no time, and still be home in time to make dinner.