"Here we go," DeLayne said, pulling up a chair. He handed Odeon the reader, which turned out to be a screen with a row of words underneath—all of which, to Odeon's gratification, he was able to puzzle out—and showed him how to insert the tape, then explained the touch controls for tape direction and speed. "The older models have electrodes that have to go on the temples," he added, "but the new ones don't need them. Some people have a mild reaction, disorientation or a touch of nausea; if you do, slowing the tape down usually gets rid of it. Whenever you're ready, just touch the "Go" button."
"Okay." Odeon did so—and promptly doubled over.
Alarmed, DeLayne grabbed the tape player and shut it off. "What's wrong, Captain?"
"I thought you said … mild nausea and disorientation. Not stomach cramps and … the worst headache I've ever had."
DeLayne frowned. "I've never heard of a reaction that bad, or I would've warned you. Let me get Dr. Drulet to prescribe you something."
"Thanks, but no thanks; I'll be okay. It's fading already." Odeon straightened cautiously, shaking his head. "I don't think I'd care to repeat the experience, though. Do you have any ordinary books I can use instead?"
"No, but I can have the ship print you out what's on the tapes. Normally I'd suggest you try a standard reading tape, but after that reaction, printouts would probably be the best idea. They're a hell of a lot slower than teaching tapes, though; it'll take you a day or so to learn what the tape would've given you in a couple of minutes."
"I'll take the day, and the printouts."
"You've got them. Imperial English, or should I have the ship transcribe everything into the pre-Imperial alphabet?"
"Imperial," Odeon said, after a moment's thought. "I'm going to have to learn it sooner or later, so why put it off?"