Time Catcher

by Cheree Peters

  Jay looks at the sentinels and back to me, his black eyes shining with anger. Eli reaches for his forearm, and both sets of eyes burn into me as they disappear with the whooshing sound that I heard back on the platform. Where they stood is now still air. At that moment, the sentinels reawaken and my scream returns.

  Minutes later Francis finds me, surrounded by sentinels. I hear him frantically repeating, ‘Princess Althea! Princess Althea!’

  Amidst my shattered nerves, I feel a twinge of annoyance that he does not call me by my nickname; I need my friend, not my sentinel.

  The sentinels search the room and Lucy runs in, almost hysterical. ‘Is there anything I can get you?’ she asks, patting me to make sure I am really there.

  A shake of the head is all I can muster as I drag myself to my bed, wrapping myself in the sheets. My dress creases and melds with the scarlet linen.

  Lucy glances at the stomping sentinels. ‘Princess, shall we find you another room?’

  I shake my head again.

  ‘Or you could wait in your parlour down the hall while the sentinels do . . . whatever it is they are doing. It will be quiet there. I can bring you some cocoa.’

  ‘No cocoa,’ I say, and burrow deeper under the covers.

  Dr Kelvin visits. ‘How are you feeling? Does your head hurt?’

  ‘No, I just feel tired,’ I reply weakly.

  ‘Princess Althea does not even want her cocoa, Doctor,’ Lucy says, wringing her hands. ‘I noticed this morning when I collected her tray she barely touched her breakfast, and the cocoa not at all. Her Highness loves cocoa.’

  Lucy must be very upset to babble so to Dr Kelvin about unimportant things like cocoa.

  ‘Hmm, you must eat and drink, Your Highness,’ Dr Kelvin says, removing a syringe from her case. ‘Your health has always been fragile and you must keep up your strength.’

  I squirm. I am used to having my blood taken, but I cannot stop my body from tensing. After she removes the needles, I rub the permanent scar in my elbow crease created by years of needle jabs.

  ‘Promise me you’ll eat your breakfast and drink your cocoa every morning,’ she says.

  I nod, Lucy beams, and thankfully Dr Kelvin leaves, taking the vial of my blood to the Jasper Institute, the kingdom’s scientific facility. Usually she uses my blood in attempts to find a cure for my seizures, but I wonder what she will test for now.

  While distracted by Dr Kelvin and her perpetual syringe, I did not notice that the tingling on my wrist remains. It feels similar to the sensation caused by falling asleep on a limb, but is isolated to the underside of my wrist.

  For the second time today, I crave the mother I do not remember. Lucy fusses and plumps my pillows and offers me tea, but she is not my mother. I settle for the next best option and await my father, my eyes lifting in hope at the entrance of another sentinel, another servant. When Father finally arrives, my relief changes to trepidation as I see his face, full of anger. I prop myself up against the mahogany headboard.

  ‘Everyone leave immediately!’ he orders, storming over to me.

  Lucy clutches my hand, but she releases it after my father’s eyes catch hers.

  ‘Close the drapes before you leave, Lucy,’ he says. ‘My daughter needs rest.’

  Lucy obeys, shutting out the afternoon sun, and leaves reluctantly.

  ‘Althea, it is very important you tell me everything that happened and everything that they said,’ he says sternly when we are alone, without the angry tone I was expecting. ‘First, however, are you well? Did they hurt you?’

  I am taken aback. My father has never been one to show much affection. ‘I am well, thank you, Father,’ I say with a small smile, scratching my wrist. ‘One moment I was outside on the platform, and the next I was here.’

  ‘How did you travel here?’

  For a moment I feel like I am back with the two strangers, being asked questions that I have no idea how to answer. ‘How should I know?’

  ‘Attitude, Althea. What did they say when they brought you here?’ His keen eyes scan my face.

  ‘I do not remember. There was much whispering. One mentioned something about a Vault, or Vaulting.’

  My father’s green eyes brighten. I can tell he is more excited than angry. ‘Good, good. What else?’

  I want to tell him about Eli saying he knew me, but something holds me back. ‘I . . . nothing. I felt so woozy. The sentinels came soon after we arrived here.’

  ‘Why did they bring you here?’

  I am starting to feel frustrated. My father’s questions remind me of my own unanswered ones. ‘They said something about kidnapping me.’

  ‘But why did they bring you here?’

  ‘I don’t know, Father. Why would they want to kidnap me?’

  ‘Do not use contractions, Althea, it is common.’ His eyes shift sideways, thinking. ‘The Manipulators want to take everything because they think everything was taken from them. They were, of course, trying to kidnap you because you are my daughter, my princess. But I would never let anything happen to you.’

  He reaches his scarred left hand over to my own, caressing it softly. I release a small smile. ‘I know, Father.’

  ‘Is there anything else you can tell me?’ he asks.

  I try to piece together the puzzle in my mind. ‘I remember hearing a whooshing sound. And there was a blue light.’

  ‘Good, good. This blue light, did it affect you in any way?’

  ‘No, not that I can feel. Should it?’ I restrain myself from rubbing my prickling left wrist. Perhaps it is a reaction to the Manipulators.

  ‘You will be fine, do not concern yourself.’ He pats my hand again. ‘You cannot catch the virus from them, it is genetic.’

  ‘I know, but–’

  ‘I know best, Althea. You must trust me.’

  Harries, my father’s personal sentinel, strides into my doorless chamber and whispers in my father’s ear. ‘. . . was them . . . Corbin confirmed . . . same power.’ The few words I catch make little sense but my father nods, his eyes serious.

  ‘I am sorry, darling, but I must be going. We must increase your security and track the kidnappers. I will, of course, see you at the Kingdom Day dinner this evening.’

  ‘But–’

  My protest is cut short. ‘No buts, Althea, we must demonstrate to our subjects that we are unfazed by the Manipulators. We are stronger than them.’

  Before I can respond, Father leaves with Harries.

  The brass lantern-clock on my mahogany bedside table reads 5.17pm. This morning it seemed that time slowed, and now it has moved so quickly that I have had barely a moment to gather my thoughts. Now that I finally have my room to myself I dread being left alone with them. I wish the sentinels and servants would return to pack every centimetre of my chamber, crowding out my confused thoughts.

  This whole day has been so strange. I burrow under the scarlet sheets and the cream quilt. I know my father is always curious about the Manipulators, but while questioning me his eyes seemed almost hungry. I am glad that I did not tell him about Eli supposedly knowing me, or about my wrist tingling. For as long as I can remember, I have experienced occasional tingling on the underside of my wrist. I always thought it was nerve damage from when I was injured and my mother died, but today it will not stop prickling. My wrist is red from rubbing and scratching, but that does not ease the sensation. I wonder if it is a side effect of the Manipulators’ transporting me from the platform to my chambers. Or perhaps their touch has caused this maddening prickling.

  Who knows where I would be now if we had, to use the Manipulators’ word, ‘Vaulted’ somewhere else? I conjure up imaginings of life outside the Rampart. I have never travelled beyond the Old City to the north and know nothing of life outside the kingdom. Between here and the North Empire only vagrants wander the wild lands, claiming them as their own. I think of the woman screaming at Delegate Donoghue that the armament conscription killed her son. I curse the North for prolongin
g this war.

  Perhaps the Manipulators would have sold me to the vagrants, or ransomed me back to the kingdom. Who knows how much my father would have paid to have my life safely returned? Father has always ensured my safety, keeping me near to him in the city. I am not allowed to venture closer than a kilometre to the Rampart for fear of stray pulsars claiming my life.

  I slide out of bed and approach the window, reaching out from as far back as possible to open my pleated drapes to the glow of the setting sun. As long as I look out, rather than directly down, my fear of heights is kept in check. Casteel stands on the north-east corner of the Imperial Gardens, keeping a watchful eye over the city. The gardens are almost empty; most citizens have returned to their homes in the city and the outlying farms. Workmen are packing up the platform, taking down each piece of wood with their calloused hands.

  I turn back to my room, now forever besmirched by the events of this morning, the presence of the Manipulators burned into the air, the gaping hole where the door was, proving that I am not safe. I shudder and wrap my arms around myself, the red silk soft against my skin. I close my eyes and my father’s voice echoes through my mind. ‘Manipulators are never to be trusted, Althea. They want to take everything we have built because they think they are entitled to it. They believe they are superior to us, but they are mutants, less than human. If we do not stop them, they will destroy us all.’

  As long as I can remember I have been afraid of the Manipulators. But they were just young men, not much more than boys. Eli looked my age and Jay couldn’t have been more than a few years older. They didn’t seem evil . . . But they tried to kidnap me. No one should fear for their life and this room reminds me of my fear.

  ‘Evenin’, madam, how are you on this fine evening?’ I turn and see my best friend, Tahan, leaning against the doorjamb. Her cream blouse is untucked from her mint-coloured three-quarter-length breeches. I would never dare wear such tight trousers. I’m barely allowed the one pair of wide-leg pants I have in my wardrobe. Most women in the kingdom still only wear skirts or dresses, but Tahan is unconventional, modern. I admire her fearlessness very much.

  We met three years ago when she was causing a scene in the markets, shouting at a merchant for cheating her. I used my diplomacy, and my rank, to resolve the situation and we’ve been friends ever since.

  She saunters over to me, her flaming red hair trailing down her back instead of being pinned up as is proper for kingdom girls. Tilting her head, she gives me a lopsided smile. ‘Aw, c’mon, Princess, it’s rude to ignore your subjects.’

  I feel a twitch at the corner of my mouth but cannot smile.

  ‘So, I know your day was boring but wait till you hear about mine. I skipped the parade to see Niklen and he–’

  ‘I know what you are doing, it will not work.’ Tahan’s best quality is her ability to make me smile.

  She jumps onto my bed. ‘Please, it always works, it’s half my act. You gotta take the good with the bad. And sometimes even . . .’ she takes a pause for dramatic effect, ‘the ugly!’

  I roll my eyes and walk to the bed. ‘Oh, I know. I see the ugly whenever I look at your face.’

  She narrows her brown eyes. ‘Why you little . . .’ Reaching behind her, she slams a pillow into my side with a smirk. I grab the pillow from her hands and take a seat at the other end, resting against my headboard. We grin at each other.

  ‘So, tell all,’ she says after a few moments.

  ‘I didn’t realise you had turned into my father.’

  ‘First of all – disgusting. And second of all, did you just use a contraction? Isn’t that illegal for you?’

  ‘Since when is grammar important to you?’

  ‘Hey, just because my schooling isn’t as thorough as your elocution lessons doesn’t mean I’m some halfwit.’

  ‘Elocution. That is a big word for you.’

  ‘Quit skirting my question.’

  I know Tahan will not give up. ‘What would you like to know?’

  She flops onto her stomach in the centre of the bed. ‘Were the Manipulators good-looking?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I heard you were whisked away by two young guys, but in between everyone’s frantic worry about you and the Manipulators, nobody seems to have noted if they were easy on the eyes.’

  ‘I do not know if they were . . . cute. I was quite preoccupied with the whole kidnapping.’

  ‘At least tell me what they looked like so I can report back to the ladies in the markets. They would love to hear about their lovely princess’ dalliances with dangerous young men.’

  I picture Eli and describe him for Tahan. ‘His slightly curled, floppy blond hair made him look young, while his blue eyes contrasted with his tanned skin. The other young man’ – I don’t know why I don’t want to say their names – ‘his face was harsher, his jaw tense. He was tall with searching black eyes,’ I conclude my description.

  ‘Oh, tall, dark and handsome. Delicious.’

  Is he? I wonder. ‘His dark hair is different to kingdom style – shorter on the sides with a . . . quiff on top – but it suited him, I suppose. If he hadn’t been kidnapping me, I most probably would agree with you.’

  ‘So, what did they want?’ Tahan asks.

  ‘I do not know. Apparently we Vaulted.’ While she likes to gossip, I trust Tahan. She has never repeated my secrets.

  ‘Vaulted? That sounds interesting. That must be one of their powers.’ Tahan lies back, fiddling with her silver coin necklace, feet in the air. Her parents died when she was young and the necklace is the only thing she has of her mother’s.

  ‘Interesting? T, they tried to kidnap me!’

  She stops fiddling and looks at me seriously. ‘I know, and I’m glad they failed. But you know I’m not like everyone else, A. I don’t think the Manipulators are half as bad as your dad would have everyone believe. They’re just misunderstood. I’m not saying what those two did was right, but I won’t judge all Manipulators based on the actions of a few.’

  Tahan has never been afraid of the Manipulators, unlike me, but she has a cavalier attitude to most things in life. Is she right, are the Manipulators ‘misunderstood’? I am not so sure.

  ‘It’s wild to think they could have taken you away. Aunty J was hysterical, saying we could have lost our future queen to a bunch of mutants who would make you have royal Manipulator babies.’

  Her words make me feel slightly nauseous.

  ‘But I just think they would have taken you for ransom. It’s not like they can convert you into one of them.’

  ‘No, of course.’

  Tahan strokes my creased silk dress. ‘Why are you still wearing this? It’s hemmed five centimetres below the knee, as ordered by good old Duncs.’

  ‘Ha-ha.’ I self-consciously smooth the red silk over my legs. I get up and head towards my wardrobe. ‘If I were you, I would be careful my father does not overhear you calling him “Duncs”.’

  ‘Over the great Jasper Cardiff ’s grave would the almighty Duncan Cardiff ever have a nickname,’ Tahan acknowledges with a wink.

  ‘Please, T, don’t say Jasper’s name like that. Father would have you punished if he heard you disrespecting our ancestor.’

  ‘Why? Jasper created our illustrious kingdom and modestly named it after himself, so I can’t make fun of him or his relatives?’

  ‘I wouldn’t make fun of your relatives.’

  ‘Because you’re too nice. Just because my parents died, and my reluctant aunt had to raise me, doesn’t mean I can’t joke about it.’

  I envy her freedom. Our lives are so different. Tahan doesn’t have a life designed for her or a future laid out before her. Strangely, my father does not disapprove of our friendship, although her outspoken personality and rebellious manner of dress grate on his proprieties. But it is her casual attitude that I adore. Her friendship allows me to be myself, without a royal title or expectations.

  ‘And did your dashing Manipulators say anything abou
t why they picked you for kidnapping?’ Tahan asks. ‘Or anything at all interesting? I need to get them straight in my mind.’

  A light knocking turns my attention to Lucy standing in the empty doorway. ‘Good evening, Princess Althea, Tahan,’ she says, a slight tremor in her voice the only remnant of her earlier frazzled state.

  ‘Evenin’, Luce.’

  I smile inwardly as Lucy purses her lips. ‘The king expects you downstairs in fifteen minutes, Your Highness.’

  Regardless of today’s events, my father will maintain protocol, and that means a five-course meal with delegates from each Quarter of the kingdom. ‘I was thinking–’

  Tahan interjects, ‘Oh, c’mon, Luce, she’s had a rough day. Surely she can skip the formalities of a parade dinner. She should be in the comfort of her own room – even if she doesn’t have a door anymore.’

  Lucy’s smile is tight. ‘Thank you, Tahan. I am well aware of the eventful day that Princess Althea has experienced. However, this is not just a parade dinner, it is a celebration of Kingdom Day.’

  ‘Eventful day? Whatever are you referring to?’ Tahan winks at me.

  I do not have the energy to argue with Lucy, or my father. ‘Can T come?’

  Tahan catapults from the bed to stand next to me. ‘Please, Lucy! I swear I will be on my best behaviour.’ Her sarcasm is unmistakable.

  Lucy hesitates, and then says, ‘I suppose that would be fine, this once.’ Tahan cannot hide her smile. ‘But she must borrow one of your dresses.’ Tahan’s smile disappears.

  ‘Thank you, Lucy,’ I say.

  As Tahan and I make our way along the corridor, I take small steps, dreading the Kingdom Day dinner. I am glad that Tahan will be with me tonight; I will need her strength.

  The charcoal wallpaper of the corridor is lined with paintings that have survived from the Old World. The landscapes contain beautiful shrubbery and glistening lakes, while the portraits show stiff-backed sitters in sumptuous garments. Moments captured from a time long since passed, a time I do not recognise in the world around me.