by Michael Rigg
"You carryin' any weapons, miss?"
Alice laughed slightly. She lifted her arm and pulled back the sleeve. "No, sir. No Ident, as you see."
The policeman thrust out his lower lip. "Interesting that a haberdasher would be traveling with an Overwatch Guardsman." The cop, obviously Imperial, glared at Bryce. "She mend your skivvies for you, Captain?" He said 'captain' with a sneer.
"She's my—"
"Fiancée," Alice blurted.
The cop raised an eyebrow. "Indeed?" Then he burst out in laughter. The Transit porter, who was already several persons down the line from where Bryce and company stood, looked back and laughed as well.
Bryce's complexion became scarlet and the chord in his jaw tightened as others in the line turned to gape and chuckle. Some whispered. Others pointed over their shoulder. Lucien also looked as though he'd swallowed a canary, but Alice smiled brightly and hugged Bryce's arm. She laid her head on his shoulder and beamed. Bryce's embarrassment played into her spontaneous ploy easily. No longer murder suspects, they now became a joke to the Imperial authorities in the city, a heroic Confederate officer marrying a low-level haberdasher's assistant from the Empire.
After the cop and Transit porter left, Bryce looked down at Alice sternly. "You shouldn't have done that, Alice."
Alice looked to Lucien who struggled to hold back a smile of his own. Then she looked at Bryce, reaching up to pet back loose strands of his blond hair. "Now now, darling," she beamed, "You know I only look out for your best interests as you look out for mine."
Bryce chewed his lower lip and looked away. Alice didn't see him slowly smile.
CHAPTER 11, “Night Crossing”
As we stepped aboard the humming SkyTrain, ducking our heads and climbing a short metal stair-step into the main cabin, I poked Bryce's arm. "Hey. Sorry about the fiancee thing. It's just.... I knew it would throw him off."
Bryce's casual smile dropped slightly when he met my eyes. "No apologies, Alice. I'm sure it will all be forgotten by and by."
"Was it really that big a deal? You seemed irritated." Which was true enough. With each glance and sneer from other passengers boarding the SkyTrain, it seemed my twist of the truth brought us more unwanted attention than if we'd flat-out declared that we knew the man who was arrested on the fin of the SkyTrain.
"Not at all," he said flatly. I looked to Lucien who pursed his lips and shook his head slightly, but vehemently, as if tasting something sour, or encouraging me to drop the whole thing.
Changing the subject, I said, “It's odd, isn't it, that they'd be letting us go aboard after all that's happened.” I looked along the length of the shiny metal capsule we were boarding. I touched my hand to the hull as I stepped inside, vaguely thinking I'd done that before. A good luck charm before flying? Had I flown before? Certainly not on a SkyTrain. I knew I'd never seen anything like this.
Lucien said, “An easy matter to make repairs. The authorities are doing a smashing job. No reason not to allow us to depart, yes?”
“I guess so.”
We made our way toward the back of the cabin. The interior of the SkyTrain was short and we had to duck slightly to make our way down the raised center aisle, high-backed seats with ornately patterned upholstery lined both sides. I didn't know if all SkyTrains were designed like this, but the one we were aboard was fashioned in bright solid gold throughout, with wine colored seats and laced curtains over the rounded portals.
Bryce led us beyond a red velvet curtain to a narrower area lined with gold velvet curtains on both sides. A set of curtains was open and I saw that they concealed upper and lower sleeper bunks. Bryce stopped at one of these and checked the number on his ticket. "Okay, Alice," he smiled, indicating a lower bunk. "This will be yours. You should get your rest. Lucien and I will take shifts on the upper bunk."
"Shifts?"
"I'm still advisin' caution on this journey. The men who traced us to the Bridge are wily. There's no tellin' until we're safe at home what they may do next, or where they may turn up." He looked to the portly butler. "Lucien?"
Lucien nodded in the direction we'd been moving before we stopped at the bunks. "Our seats are just beyond the sleepers, sir. I'll make my way about before we embark and see what I can't sniff out."
"Very good."
We made our way forward into another open seating area. Here the seats were joined in pairs facing other pairs across small tables. Ash trays and small service carts with butter, sugar, molasses and playing cards sat in the center of each table. Bryce motioned to one of these and I squeezed in next to the window. He sat next to me and Lucien sat across from us. Both men remained silent, watching as passengers shuffled past, some muttering or mumbling conversations to one-another. Near the front of the SkyTrain, toward the first seating compartment before the sleepers, a baby began to cry.
I reached out and plucked a set of cellophane-wrapped silver dinnerware from the small service cart on our table and unwrapped it with the zeal of a child at Christmas. Lucien and Bryce watched me as I held up a metal spoon that was fashioned into short tines at the end. Part spoon, part fork. “It's a Spork!”
The men exchanged glances. Lucien huffed and Bryce smiled. “Yes.... Yes, Alice, it's a Spork.”
Lucien said, “Did they not have these where... from wherever—?”
I nodded to an ornate golden handle on the ceiling that was set into a box-shaped protrusion. These were spaced along every other booth in this area of the SkyTrain. I said, “I have no idea what that is, but this is a Spork—but I remember them as being plastic, not metal.”
“Plastic?” Lucien huffed. He shot a confused glance to Bryce who only shrugged. I realized with some shock, and a fair amount of horror, that I knew what plastic was but the common material was alien to these two. I then realized I hadn't seen a single thing made of plastic since I woke up. Everything was brass and bronze, steel, iron, canvas, glass...
Bryce smiled with confidence. “Given time, my dear, I'm sure all of your memory will return. From Sporks to Hydron Boxes, I'm sure it's all a matter o' time.”
I turned to the window and looked out at the city lights. The police had finished their investigation and had moved on. They had Wilco in custody. I supposed that's all they needed unless an investigation was ongoing in some area I couldn't see.
I glanced around the golden cabin once more, then leaned toward Bryce and whispered, "This all appears rather opulent. Is it expensive?"
He grinned. "Not very. A few hundred dollars."
I nodded.
"Each passenger."
I heard footsteps and moving below us and wondered aloud, "But this must be first class, no? We could have traveled coach."
"Coach?" Lucien asked more to Bryce than to me.
Bryce shook his head. "Alice, the 'first class', as you put it, would be below us."
Lucien huffed. "Those of corporate privilege and station receive special dispense for transport, particularly over the country borders. They sit farther from the high voltage that courses over our heads. Safety for the successful one might say."
I nodded slightly. "And we'll be traveling from the Empire to the Confederacy, right?"
Lucien's nod was somber but suspicious and I could tell that he still hurt for me on some level, my lack of memory, and on another, his suspicion about my origins.
Bryce, who had been watching the flow of passengers, nudged Lucien under the table with his boot. "The aisle's thinnin' out."
The butler nodded to Bryce with a touch to his brim and pried himself out of the seat to walk the SkyTrain. I whispered to Bryce, "Do you think anyone followed us aboard?"
His eyes still on the passing travelers, he shrugged with one shoulder. "Anythin' is possible." He smiled at me. "You, above all, should realize that, especially today."
I nodded and turned my attention back out the window, my thumb caressing the smooth surface of the Spork as if it gave me some connection to the memories I'd lost, and found, a talisman t
o my past. I wondered where Pandora and Wilco were, if he was okay, if I'd ever see Pandora again and ask her what it was that had shaken her so much about the raised bumps on my back. I shifted in my seat and reached back to my kidney. I could feel them through my shirt. They were still sensitive to the touch but didn't seem any worse. I thought about saying something to Bryce, but decided against it since Pandora's warnings and deflections were clear that I should mention them to no one. What if the marks made me a criminal? What if they confirmed what I feared most—that I'm some sort of sleeper agent for this Thorne & Wolfe company? What if I was something worse than a witch? Would I remember how protective Bryce had been, or would I attack him blindly when he least expected it? Would Lucien kill me? Would Bryce stop smiling at me and maybe throw me from the SkyTrain?
I needed to find a mirror to get a better look at them. It struck me that I hadn't gotten a good luck at myself at all. The mirror in the haberdashery was dirty and clouded. If I could see my face clearly, maybe I'd remember something else. Looking up to Bryce, I said, "I think I should go to the bathroom."
He glanced to an amber light above the arch to the sleeper section. "Not yet, my dear. We're about to get underway. You can hold on for a moment, can't you?"
Almost on cue, a static-laced voice came over an intercom. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. If you'll all please find your seats, we'll be underway in one minute."
People stuffed bags and purses under seats. A man across from us lit up a cigar and puffed, the air instantly filling with a sour wooden smell. I reached for a seat belt but couldn't find one. "Bryce, there're no seat belts."
"Seat... belts?"
I looked around and saw people shuffling cards, lighting cigarettes, leaning over tables to talk to one another. No one buckled a seat belt.
A moment later, just before the amber light turned red, Lucien re-joined us. "Nothing out of sorts, Captain," he reported.
"And below?"
"Nothing that I could see. It looked to be one passenger and a lot of luggage."
"Aristocrat," Bryce smirked. "No worries."
The speaker popped. "Ladies and gentlemen, we will now be getting under way."
And with that the entire cabin began to vibrate and shudder. I looked out the window and watched the city lights. I expected them to start moving away from us, but they didn't. The hum became louder and louder. People in the cabin shouted to be heard over one another. Bryce leaned back and closed his eyes. I reached over and took his hand, holding it tight. My other hand gripped the edge of the table, my knuckles glowing white. He opened an eye to look at me as he reached over to pat my hand with his other.
Then came sudden silence. It was as if the generators or whatever it was that powered the SkyTrain were suddenly shut off. I didn't think to realize it was simply the rotation of the enormous wing into the 'fin position' that made all the racket. I looked to the window, my mouth open to ask what happened —
And Philadelphia whisked away in a flash. Just like that. It was there, then it was a streak of lights that vanished in the distance as though the image outside my window was nothing more than a picture that was suddenly pulled away.
"We're moving?"
Bryce squeezed my hand. "At hundreds of miles per hour." He checked his pocket watch, as did Lucien.
I looked below and saw the odd light zip by below us, criss-crossing strings of lights from suburb streets, blurs of airplane or flying carriage lights, but all of it fading as fast as I spotted them. There was a faint shushing sound, the rushing of air outside, but no hum of engines, no vibration of generators. Midnight blue clouds whisked by below us like stretched balls of cotton. "It's so quiet. Like a glider."
Bryce released my hand and patted it before scooting out of our booth and standing. He reached for my hand again. "And it'll be like this for the next few hours or so. You should rest, my dear."
I reached up and took his hand. He pointed me toward the washrooms in the very back of the SkyTrain, then he nodded to Lucien. "Will you accompany her? I'm goin' to the wireless cabin to place a call ahead to have someone meet us at the Shreveport Bridge."
Lucien nodded and started to get up, but I held out a palm to the butler. "I'll be okay, Bryce." I flashed him a smile. "I'm only going to the bathroom. What could happen?"
Lucien's mustache twitched. "Need I remind you how you awoke this afternoon, young lady?"
I focused on Bryce, a quiet plea in my eyes. "Bryce...."
He nodded before resting his hands on my arms. "If anythin' befalls you, Alice, you call out."
I nodded and moved down the aisle toward the restroom, absently tucking the Spork into my vest pocket, amazed that I felt no momentum at all as we glided through the sky on an electric grid.
At the end of the aisle I found an extremely narrow doorway with the smell of chowder and fresh bread. The tiny kitchen held scores of swaying pots and pans on hooks, and two men in white coats toiling over various orders that must have been placed prior to our departure—unless they were complimentary since I noticed no one in the role of flight attendant taking orders. Across from the kitchen was a narrow closet door marked FIRE CLOSET and next to that two narrow doors marked GENTS and LADIES. The very end of the corridor terminated in a large opening in the floor and the top of a spiral set of stairs that went to the deck below us. A gilded sign in fancy lettering said, "Personal Travelers ~ Keep Out."
"Hmpf," I smirked to myself. "First class sounds better." I worked my way into the narrow wooden closet labeled LADIES and pulled a chain that illuminated the space with three bare bulbs above a mirror. Next to a tiny sink was a toilet. Behind me was a small brass rack with towels. But I couldn't take in more than that because I was faced, for the first time, with my own reflection.
My long auburn hair lay flat against the sides of my head and over the shoulders of my gusseted shirt and vest. My green eyes appeared gray, crow's feet stretching out from them and dark circles forming below them. My lips were dry and starting to crack. I remembered how Bryce looked at me in the haberdashery and shook my head. He must have been kidding. I was a homely wreck.
Nothing in my reflection sparked any memories, no flash of applying lipstick or makeup, not even brushing my teeth in a steamy mirror back home, wherever home was.
Nothing... until a "bump" turned out the lights.
The smooth coasting of the SkyTrain hitched and we were jostled by turbulence. I heard the crackle of electricity overhead, a loud snap as the metal fin above reconnected with the current. The lights flickered out while I was staring at myself in the mirror. That's when I saw the face over my shoulder and my blood turned to ice.
It was only a flash, but I clearly saw a woman in her fifties, platinum silver hair curled around her ears and eyes so dark I couldn't make out the color of her irises. I gasped and spun around as the lights flickered back on but no one was there. I reached out to touch the wall, to see if something in the wood grain or brass towel rack fixtures formed a face-like pattern. But it was too real, too well defined. It was a woman's face, and she was dressed in a black corseted dress. I had almost felt her breath on my shoulder, the smell of mint.
Clutching my chest, I forced myself to take several long breaths before turning back to the sink. Keeping my eyes off the mirror, I ran some cool water into my hands and splashed my face. When the lights flickered again, I gripped the sink tightly and gasped, whimpering as they strobed back to life.
I stepped out of the ladies room without looking back. I didn't even bother to pull the light chain.
Bryce met me in the aisle. "Alice. Are you all right? You look as though you've seen a ghost."
"I think I may have," I stammered in a weak voice.
"You're pale and trembling... Come." Bryce took me by the arm and led me toward the sleeper section. "You should lie down, my dear. You've had quite the day."
I flinched. In my mind I saw the woman's face with the alabaster skin, the dark eyes. "No." I pulled back
from his grip and he turned to me.
Swallowing hard, then taking a deep breath, I said, "Don't leave me? Please, Bryce."
He stepped up to me and rested his hands on my arms. I could feel myself shaking against him. I felt so weak, so vulnerable. It didn't fit with how I felt against Perek Grubbs. The coiled dragon inside me was gone, washed away by my vision of the ghost woman.
He said, "You can lie down. Leave the curtain open. I'll sit with you on the edge of your bunk until you nod off."
I swallowed again and nodded.
"We'll talk until you drift off, all right?" I could see the concern in his face, his deep brown eyes holding my very soul in their protective light. They were not the eyes of the mirror. The ghost's eyes were dark and cold, hurtful and callous despite the pale woman's innocent expression.
We made our way to the sleeper section, passing Lucien on the way. His bowler sat on the seat next to him as he thumbed through a newspaper. Bryce told him, "I'm takin' Alice to lie down. Keep your eyes peeled."
“Like grapes,” Lucien nodded and licked his finger before turning the page.
At the sleeper bunk I slipped out of my shoes and climbed in. The bed was deeper than it looked, and soft. I could feel the spines of feathers under the padding, but the bunk itself was like a cloud, the fine cotton sheets hugging me close. Bryce kept his word and sat on a hip facing me. He smiled down as I brushed back my hair and returned the grin.
"I need a bath," I muttered with a sour frown.
"Adeline will see to it once we've arrived home. We'll get you proper clothes, a hot meal—I'd imagine an early breakfast—and a nice comfy bed to sleep in."
I smiled brightly. "Adeline? You mentioned that name once before."
"The elder of my two sisters." Bryce smiled warmly, his eyes catching the golden glow of the cabin. "She is truly the wisdom of our family. I dare say she'll take a kindness to you and may even be instrumental in findin' out where you came from."
"Do you have any other siblings?"
