The Afterlife of Alice Watkins 1

by Matilda Scotney

  Chapter Thirty

  The Merchant sector operated on several levels. Elevators not only travelled up and down but side to side, even spiralling in a slow circle to the more inaccessible areas. It was a busy place, many people in uniform, some with military insignias, and lots of families with small children. Alice recognised the light blue uniform worn by several Tyros who passed them on the walkways.

  The various sectors remained open 24 hours each day while the habitat arm provided accommodation for single people working here. Principal Katya told her that Tyros taking aptitudes spent six months assigned to a city, working in each section as part of training to be in service to the world.

  Each studio on this level, (not ‘shop’ Principal Katya corrected her) was set back from the walkway and partitioned from its neighbour by simple columns. The studios on this level were solely for the manufacture and production of footwear and apparel. None of the open-fronted studios displayed their wares.

  On each level, there was a hub for the elevators to take them wherever they needed to go in the city. A few narrow windows offered restricted glimpses of the outside but Principal Katya said other parts of the city had larger windows and viewports with uninterrupted views of the surrounding countryside where one could see for miles and miles. Alice would have liked to have enjoyed those views, but Principal Katya was on a mission for yarn and hooks.

  The tailor who visited the Tabernacle earlier appeared flustered by their arrival.

  “Principal Katya, Dr Langley,” he bowed to them both, his young face flushed and anxious. “I’m afraid your garments won’t be ready until tomorrow morning.”

  Alice had chosen so many outfits; how could they manage to make them all in only one day? But she didn’t ask.

  Principal Katya held up her hands to calm him.

  “Tailor Mitchell, we are not here about the garments, though we might have saved you a journey. We are here on another matter. A conundrum for you, I believe.”

  “A conundrum, Principal Katya?”

  “Yes, Dr Langley has extraordinary knowledge of ancient craftwork and we need, what is it, Dr Langley? Yarn? Yes, yarn.”

  Principal Katya waited while Tailor Mitchell gathered his wits. He had never heard of yarn.

  “Yarn?”

  Alice decided it might be prudent to step in here.

  “We wish to make a blanket, Tailor Mitchell,” she said, “using squares of fabric like the samples you showed me this morning, but we want to make it ourselves. To do that, we must have long pieces of fabric, only this thick,” she tried to show him between her thumb and forefinger, “and wound into a ball or skein. We also require a hook to work the fabric.”

  Principal Katya nodded her agreement often while Alice explained as though she couldn’t have said it better herself.

  Tailor Mitchell stroked his chin, pondering Principal Katya’s ‘conundrum’. He placed a sheet of cloth onto a narrow master plate and activated a second plate, suspended above, with a flick of his finger. He then proceeded to guide the master plate by manipulating beams of light and in a few seconds, a length of fabric stripped from the sheet, far too short for their purposes, but he held it up in triumph, convinced he had solved their predicament.

  Alice took it from him. It was light to the touch so might be workable but needed to be thinner and much, much longer. And they still lacked a hook.

  “How long can you make one of these strands, Tailor Mitchell?” Alice handed the fabric back.

  “As long as you wish, Dr Langley.”

  “Is it possible to make it thinner? Half as thin?”

  “Yes, Dr Langley.”

  “Can you do it by weight?”

  “Yes, I can do that too. Do you have a weight in mind?”

  Alice looked around and spotted the odd boot sock thingies the tailor showed her earlier. She picked up a few.

  “I don’t know how you weigh things here, but each ball of the fabric needs to weigh as much as this and be continuous.”

  “Would you mind leaving this with me? Let me experiment? May I suggest you have tea at a pasticium and I will link with you as soon as I come up with a solution? Hopefully, not too long. Would that be agreeable, Principal Katya?”

  “Excellent suggestion. We will wait to hear from you.”

  Outside the tailor’s studio, Principal Katya nudged Alice.

  “You will learn I need no excuse for a cup of tea, Alice, but first we need to find this hook. Do you know the material used in its manufacture?”

  “Metal or plastic, not long, about this length…” and she again held up her fingers, “it’s got a little hook on the end to catch the yarn.”

  Principal Katya understood. “Someone who works with metal can produce such a tool. I am not sure of this plastic, but I think I know where to look.”

  Principal Katya found a stray Tyro to conduct them to the Industrial Sector, telling the girl what kind of industry she required. The young woman took them in an elevator to the levels below the retail sector, chatting about aptitudes and agricultural options with Principal Katya.

  Standing where the Tyro left them in the Industrial Sector, Alice realised these were not simple machine shops, nor garages, nor engineering workrooms. Where she had expected oil or grease and grubby overalls, the entire area was as ordered and tidy as the engine room of the Significator and the men and women working here were dressed neatly in uniforms. These were more like laboratories.

  Principal Katya spoke a few words to a steward who disappeared inside one of the laboratories and returned with an official-looking man. He addressed Principal Katya with the customary bow but paid no attention to Alice.

  “We need a hook with which to work fabric. My friend here, Dr Langley—” and at that, the man turned and bowed, “—is to teach me a new craft. She will furnish you with dimensions and you can fashion the implement.”

  Principal Katya took a seat, hands in lap, she waited for them to begin their task.

  Alice drew a childish line drawing of a crochet hook on the registry notepad, hoping it corresponded with the width of the yarn Tailor Mitchell produced. The engineer noted her sketch and withdrew, promising to return directly.

  He returned within ten minutes carrying several prototypes. None perfect or exact but after a few trials, came up with one Alice was confident would fit the bill. All this kerfuffle to find yarn and hooks made her wonder if the person who invented crochet faced as many problems in getting started. If so, she was surprised it ever survived.

  Principal Katya took Alice for tea as suggested by Tailor Mitchell. It was only mid-afternoon, and the third time she had sat down to eat; if she had remembered to eat breakfast, this would have been the fourth. How did everyone look so fit and well?

  The cakes and pastries were irresistible and all the food she’d tried over the months was delicious, except for the rolls and firewater. The steward brought them tea and cake decorated with a large quantity of cream. All these years later and cream still looked and tasted like cream. She could only hope that calories in the future were less than calories in the past.

  Tailor Mitchell made several balls of fabric, each with contrasting colours and within the scope of what he thought appropriate. Principal Katya inspected his efforts but first sought Alice’s approval before giving the tailor her compliments. The tailor had done a remarkable job in producing a workable, stretchy almost-yarn. Alice most certainly approved, and he promised he would work on the concept further.

  Before starting the homeward trip to the Tabernacle, the pilot took the shuttle high over the city for Alice to view from above. Breathtaking from all angles, but from so high, Alice gained a perspective of the sheer scale of the relationship between the manmade components and natural formation of the mountain. Principal Katya smiled, delighting in the opportunity of being the first to show her these wonders. Alice open her hands, palms up as if to say, “I cannot believe this!” Principal Katya heard her unspoken wonder loud and clear.

>   Late in the afternoon, Alice and Principal Katya were sitting together in the garden. Alice closed her eyes. It had been hundreds of years since the sun last warmed her face, that is if she decided to believe all she had been told, but the sun felt so good. It would have been nice to nap, but with a student sitting opposite, impatient to learn the art of crochet, she had no time to sleep or ponder the vagaries of her unexpected situation.

  Unfortunately, those intervening hundreds of years since she had last crocheted made their presence felt when, trying to co-ordinate hook and yarn, Alice struggled; the technique was in her head, but her fingers wouldn’t co-operate, and the results were rather untidy, an odd experience for someone who used to make jumpers and blankets and baby clothes by the dozen. She put the yarn down with a sigh, wracking her brain for a clue as to what she might be doing wrong. Alice had no choice but to keep trying, reasoning that as a novice, Principal Katya only needed the basics and if she concentrated, the technique would return.

  Happily, it did but as Alice’s ability improved, it became apparent that Principal Katya was not a natural at crochet and she fumbled and fiddled and tied her yarn in knots until, after a few false starts and with Alice’s help, gained a degree of mastery in the knack of juggling hook and yarn. Miss Ling joined them, wishing to try her hand, then Statesmen Mellor wandered over, followed by two stewards and Sarah. Miss Ling had the most success in handling the hook, Principal Katya the least but would not be dissuaded. At the end of an hour, under Alice’s watchful eye and with considerable persistence, she had crocheted a line of work.

  “We must all be taught this by Alice,” Principal Katya announced. “I think it will be therapeutic. Very relaxing.” A few members of the group agreed while others concluded it might not be for them. Alice took Sarah to one side.

  “Why would the male statesmen want to do craftwork? I didn’t know any men who did.”

  Sarah laughed. “Well, we love Principal Katya and if it gives her pleasure, and assuming we can take the time from our duties, we’ll join in with her. Don’t let her sense of fun deceive you, she works incredibly hard and takes little leisure time. I know she’s cramming in lots of activities but at any moment, affairs of the world can take her attention away for many days and she’s determined to make you feel welcome. We all enjoy her company and none of us gets to spend much time with her. Besides, this crochet is intriguing. I’m going to check it out on the registry. By the way, you will find there is no real delineation of roles between the sexes, it’s all common territory.”

  For a moment, Alice screwed up her face in puzzlement. Ok, no specific male and female dominated roles but crochet!! Well, yes, she liked it but why these brainy types would find it rewarding boggled her mind. Crochet was something to do while watching telly, mindless stuff to occupy idle hands, certainly not something to get too excited about, naturally, you took pride in a project completed well but now, to be teaching it to the people who run the world beggared belief.

  So, no nanna nap on her first day on Earth, instead, after Principal Katya excused herself, Alice retreated to her suite and sat in the window seat, looking out to the lake and reflecting on the events of the day, from waking on the Significator, to seeing Patrick as she left, her arrival in the shuttle and saying goodbye to Amelia. Then meeting the amazing Principal Katya, that lovely deep bath, shopping, if one could call that shopping, getting to know Sarah, visiting the city, so much in one day! Only this morning, she stood on the observation deck of a starship. It was all going so fast.

  The sun was setting, casting a soft glow across the lawns. The garden would be lovely now, so she made her way down the winding staircase and across the almost deserted great hall, unseen apart from one or two stewards who glanced in her direction.

  Standing on the steps, the lights from the Tabernacle reflected over the surface of the lake, shimmering like stars. The lawns spread out before her, inviting her to step out. She glanced behind to make sure she was alone then kicked off her sandals and wriggled her toes, enjoying the damp softness beneath her feet. How glorious! For months, she had been in the bright, artificial and clinical environment of Saturn Station and now, standing on Earth, on the grass and watching a beautiful sunset, she didn’t want to be anywhere else.

  The gardens were peaceful and quiet, with sandals in hand, she sauntered down by the lake, intending to walk as far as the summer house at the far end. The ducks had put themselves to bed and half a dozen rabbits were too busy munching their evening meal on the lawn to care about their visitor. Alice stopped to listen to an early hoot of an owl in the distance and, in the trees around the lake, birds chattered as they found their perches for the night. It surprised Alice to find she was the only person out here in such a beautiful part of the evening, but also glad of the solitude after so many months of having someone supervising her every move.

  She found a stone garden seat to sit on and looked up into the evening sky, hoping for a glimpse of Saturn but she didn’t know its position in the heavens and it would be too far away to see anyway, 1.2 billion kilometres or something Hennessey said. Saturn Station, her first home since waking was also somewhere above her, amongst those points of light.

  Summerhouse forgotten, she watched as one by one, more stars appeared, and the moon rose to take its place, the same moon that shone down on her centuries ago. It’s much prettier from here, she thought, remembering how much like clay it looked close to.

  Out there, in the peace of the garden, bathed in the glow from the great hall, Alice gave herself permission to dwell on the complexities of her new life, her rebirth. Perhaps one day she might be able to explain the events that brought her to this place, learn which universal force played a part in taking her from one life and placing her in another. And when that time comes, she might understand the reason why.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Statesman Mellor, silhouetted in the lights, called to her from the steps of the great hall. Alice stood and signalled to let him know she’d seen him and hurried towards the Tabernacle. He bowed but didn’t say, “Dr Langley,” instead he addressed her as “Alice”.

  “Principal Katya has arrived for dinner,” he said, inviting Alice to fall into step beside him. “She enquires after you and hopes you will join her. We dine late here,” he grinned. “Has she run you ragged today?”

  “She’s so kind, Statesman Mellor, you all are, I really enjoyed her company. Just now, out at the lake, I was thinking about all the things we did today, I didn’t realise the time!”

  Statesman Mellor escorted Alice to the garden where Principal Katya waited with Miss Ling, giving Alice a quick smile, he withdrew back to the great hall.

  “Alice, there you are.”

  Principal Katya pointed to a covered dish in the centre of the table. “Do you like potatoes with butter? We are having potatoes with butter.” She lifted the lid.

  But Alice didn’t feel hungry. Where on earth did these people put all the food they ate? She was starting to appreciate the controlled portions on the station and starship.

  “Yes, I do, Principal Katya, but I’m not terribly...”

  Principal Katya wasn’t listening.

  “We have researched the diets of your time and asked the chef to create something familiar. Are we not clever?”

  “You’re very thoughtful,” Alice accepted a plate from Principal Katya.

  Alice recognised potatoes and butter and although she had never seen potatoes of such a vivid yellow before, decided to try them, glad to see the other vegetables, like carrots and broccoli, seemed normal. Chef had prepared a brown sauce which Alice supposed was gravy, but only after pouring it on the vegetables, did she realise it was caramel. To her horror, Principal Katya and Miss Ling followed suit.

  Not unexpectedly, neither was impressed.

  “I’m so sorry, Principal Katya. I didn’t realise the sauce was sweet,” Alice apologised, even the error wasn’t of her making. Clearly, their research needed tweaking.


  “This is not how you ate?” Principal Katya looked down at her caramel covered supper.

  “It’s a good sauce,” Alice lied. She hated caramel sauce. “But we would have had the potatoes and vegetables with a pork chop or a chicken leg.”

  “A pork chop? Steward,” Principal Katya called out. “Bring Chef!”

  The steward was dispatched, and the chef summoned. He sat down, and Alice questioned him on pork chops and chicken legs. They seldom ate chickens, he said, only for celebrations, but eggs, yes, and they had pig meat. The chef had never heard of chops and Alice couldn’t tell him what part of the pig they originated from so, on the registry, they deliberated together on the different pieces of pig meat. None were recognisable as chops. Alice wasn’t sure and shook her head.

  “Do you have beef?” she asked in the hope Chef might show her something more recognisable.

  She was advised, yes, beef is used in many meals.

  So, Alice asked if they had sausages because she loved sausages, but her questions were answered with blank looks and mystified shrugs. Hamburgers proved to be a mystery too, so Alice gave Chef the recipe for meat patties, forgetting to explain hamburgers were the finished dish and meat patties only one component. Principal Katya said they would wait.

  “Now Alice, what do we do with this sweet sauce?”

  “Usually you have it with pudding.”

  “Pudding. Yes, after your meal?”

  “That’s right, sometimes we called it dessert, but you would have a savoury sauce with the dinner, we called it gravy.”

  “Fruit is pudding, I understand from the registry?”

  “Yes, fruit can be pudding, but pudding is a kind of dense cake.”

  “Hmmm.” Principal Katya peered at the registry. Alice saw all this confused her dinner companions.

  “Can you tell Chef how to make dense pudding?”