“You don’t seem excited, Alice?”
Alice looked out across the beautiful lawn. The flowers were stunning in their variety, golds and reds; a duck with ducklings waddled around the side of the house, ignoring the dog making pouncing movements and barking, but not doing any harm. Alice didn’t want to go anywhere. She was home now.
“I don’t usually socialise, Auntie Mary. I’m awkward in company.”
“Alice, you have a young man who is interested in you, the World Principal is your friend, you’ve dined with senior officers from a principality ship and embraced us and your new life with open arms. You may value privacy, but you are a friendly young girl.”
“I’m nervous about being in a room full of people who are principals and councilmen who travel through the stars and run the world. I love that I’ve learned so much and can retain information, but now and then, I do things which remind me of my lack of education, before all this happened.”
“I don’t know where this is coming from Alice,” Mary sat next to her, placing her hand on her arm, her voice gentle, motherly. “Saturn Station has at least 500 people in residence at any one time, not including patients. The principality ship, over 3800 crew. The Tabernacle itself is home to more than 1500 live-in staff. You have called all those places home over the last few months.”
Alice understood, but she didn’t meet all of those people.
"I was protected somewhat, Mary. I barely spoke to anyone on Saturn Station, only Dr Grossmith and Kelly, my carer, and the library staff. I hardly ever saw Dr Clere. There were conversations and afternoon teas with Principal Hardy and Educator Sebel, with whom I made friends, and of course, Statesman Patrick. I can't think of anyone else except for Principal Katya and Statesman Mellor, and Sarah who drew the lovely picture you hung in the parlour for me, and the chef and the people who did the crochet group."
"Only and only?" Mary didn't realise Alice had gained so many acquaintances. "All these people, Alice—quite a few to accumulate in such a short time I might add—would never have judged you as a suitable friend based on your education, I hope we are far more enlightened than that."
“I don’t know if they noticed, Mary. They all expected Alexis Langley but forgave me when they realised I wasn’t.”
“You have succeeded in making many friends on your journey,” Mary gently tucked Alice’s hair away from her shoulders, just as a mother would a child. “Whoever you are, you are well loved. Hold your head up. Don’t be afraid or ashamed to embrace life.”
The following morning, Alice still expressed misgivings about the ball, even trying to invent reasons she shouldn’t attend. Firstly, because she was sure she was leading Patrick on and secondly because she couldn’t imagine herself at such an event.
The aunties were having none of it. In the face of Alice’s anxieties, they designed a dress themselves and now, after breakfast placed the portable registry in the centre of the table. They were determined she would go to the ball.
The dress the aunties designed reminded Alice of something her mother would have worn. She politely added her own opinions, modelling her ideas on a design she’d seen in her old life and thought beautiful. The aunties loved it, not noticing Alice had systematically obliterated their concept of elegance. Designing such a beautiful garment helped lessen Alice’s anxieties about attending.
Later that morning, Mary and Alice went to collect the goats congregating down in the forest. The two dogs and oddly, the cat, always accompanied them on outings around the smallholding. Alice thought it hilarious the little cat with no name and half a tail controlled both dogs, cowering them into obedience with just a hiss when they became too boisterous. Watching their antics, a vague thought about Sammy, his wavy tail and his pale ginger tummy wandered unbidden through her mind. She loved Sammy of the one tooth. He was a dear companion. Perhaps that was why she dreamed up ginger hair.
They'd left Auntie Jane where she seemed happiest, in the kitchen. They'd talked so much over the last little while, she'd used up all her voice reserves and was trying to stay quiet and recover. It took effort for her to speak, employing her abdominal muscles to control airflow and Alice was mightily impressed by the ability. Jane was a natural homemaker. Mary tended the animals, but often the two could be found laughing together, sharing chores and caring for animals and plants. The goats provided milk and Alice was shown milking stalls; fully automated and so goat friendly that the goats clamoured to enter, each receiving a scratchy massage along their backs as they were milked. Mary explained the massage relaxed the goats and increased milk production. She showed Alice where they made cheese from the goat's milk and where it was stored, in an outdoor fridge, without visible controls or cords, but otherwise just like any walk-in fridge from her own time. Everything stored within was fresh and home produced, cheese, milk, fish…
“Do you like to fish, Alice?” Mary asked as they extricated the last of the happy goats from the stalls.
“You mean you actually go fishing?”
“Well, there’s a pretty big ocean over there in case you hadn’t noticed.” Mary laughed and pointed toward the sea. "Of course, we fish. The salmon is superb, and one fish is enough for a month."
“I wouldn’t mind trying,” Alice smiled and without thinking added, “I’ve never been. My husband went occasionally, but he never brought anything home.”
Mary let it go. Apart from the recounting of her perceived past, Alice occasionally made spontaneous observations which she linked to her memories. Mary listened for any that might give her a clue that Alice was remembering Alexis, but so far, none had eventuated.
“So, you would like to fish? Can you ride a horse?”
Alice shook her head.
“I have never even been this close to one.”
“Later, we’ll go to the city to visit the tailor, for your clothing standard. But right now, I’m going to give you a riding lesson!”
Alice wasn’t sure. The horses were beautiful, but also very big. The dappled grey horse nudged her with his muzzle on the first day here and whinnied at her each time he saw her since. She liked to stroke his soft face and give him apples. She pointed to him.
“He looks gentle. It’s Jorrocks isn’t it?”
“Yes, I’ll bridle him up for you.”
Mary slipped a leather bridle over Jorrocks’s head. She indicated to Alice she should stand on the mounting block and demonstrated swinging her leg across the horse’s back and seating herself.
“Aren’t we supposed to have saddles?”
“Only in antiquity Alice. We ride without encumbrances apart from a simple bridle and reins.”
Alice stepped up to the block and climbed onto Jorrocks's back. It seemed too high for comfort, and she sat rigid and afraid.
"It's OK, Alice," Mary stroked Jorrocks's neck. "He'll look after you, and I'm not going to let you go. Try to relax. Horses can sense tension in their riders."
“I can’t relax,” Alice spoke through teeth clenched in fear. “I don’t like heights. What will he do if I can’t relax?”
"Nothing," Mary soothed. "He's as gentle as a lamb. But he might not be the only horse you ever ride, and I want to ensure you get into good habits and become a confident rider."
Jorrocks stood patiently, simply turning his head when a goat walked by and looking up as the cat jumped up onto the stable door. Alice felt as if he knew she was a novice and allowed herself to relax a little.
Mary took a separate lead and mounted her horse, walking on slowly, Jorrocks following obediently. They walked at a slow, rhythmic pace and Alice's confidence grew.
Mary instructed her in guiding the horse with her knees, proper use of the reins to control and how to stop. Everything Mary told her to do made complete sense to Alice, and the riding lesson was over far too quickly. She felt an odd familiarity about the whole experience, and in turn, it surprised Mary that Alice proved such a capable horsewoman after only the most basic instruction.
At the e
nd of the ride, with no hesitation and as if she’d carried out the movement hundreds of times before, Alice swung her leg over the horse’s neck and slid to the ground. She didn’t notice she hadn’t been instructed in this, only enjoying the fact there wasn’t even a twinge of arthritis in her hip. Mary watched her. It would seem Alexis Langley was no stranger to riding, even if Alice Watkins was a beginner.
Jane was on the verandah, waving her arms and pointing to Alice.
“You go ahead,” Mary took the bridle from her. “I’ll see to the horses. I can teach you how to rub them down and muck them out another time. I bet you can’t wait!”
“I’ve never done it before,” Alice called over her shoulder as she jogged to the house. “Every day there’s something new to learn.”
At the house, Jane pointed to the registry.
“Principal Katya for you.”
Alice sat down.
“Principal Katya! How lovely!”
“It is lovely to see you too, my dear. I have deliberately stayed away so you can settle in, now I can’t wait to see you again.”
"I love it here Principal Katya, I feel—I'm not sure…a sense of belonging, I suppose. I just had my first riding lesson!"
“A good place to start your new life, eh?”
“A wonderful place to start, with wonderful people.”
Principal Katya saw Alice turn to look with affection at someone she herself couldn’t see, but the gesture filled her with happiness and confidence she’d done the right thing.
“Now, I trust Patrick mentioned the Cotillion Ball?”
“He did, Principal Katya, but it was Statesman Hennessey who mentioned it first. He told me when he was at the Tabernacle.”
"Did he now? Well, I make the formal invitations, and you must consider this as such. I believe Patrick will escort you?"
“Yes, he said he would.”
Alice wanted to mention her anxiety about attending but knew it would fall on deaf ears. Principal Katya and the aunties had decided she was going and that—Alice knew with finality—would be that.
"Jane told me this afternoon you are off to the city to be outfitted. I wish I were there to go with you; there is a pasticium at the Calamities which is wonderful, with a most creative chef, I can tell you. You must go to that pasticium and none other. Jane knows it."
“I’ll mention it to the aunties.”
“So, you are accustomed to saying ‘auntie’ now?”
“At first, I felt a little awkward. My memories, well, some of my memories put me roughly in the same age group. To say ‘auntie’ was a little odd, but it gives me a sense of familiarity, which I love. I still sometimes say Jane and Mary without the auntie though.”
"Your memories? I know of these, but we have never discussed them. Are they getting in the way?"
“Occasionally, Principal Katya, but other times, I simply live in the moment. As I said, I feel comfortable here.”
"No-one will ask more of you than you are prepared or able to give, Alice. Of course, we all hope in time, your true memories return, but you are among friends and family. We all have your best interests at heart."
“I know, Principal Katya. And I’m very grateful.”
“Well, we will see each other at the ball. I so look forward to seeing you again. Enjoy your visit to the tailor. You will be beautiful!”
Alice smiled. Sleeping Beauty was turning into Cinderella in going to this ball. A fairytale life, she mused.
Jane appeared in the doorway.
“Your formal invitation?”
“Yes, and instructions to go to a particular pasticium this afternoon. A creative chef Principal Katya says.”
“Not the same as homemade,” she said and screwed up her face a little, pretending disapproval.
Chapter 4
On the Significator, Principal Ryan and Statesman Junnot stood silent and expectant in the engine room. Along with the engineering crew, they’d spent most of the last two days—and in Patrick’s and Oakes’s case, the nights—working on entirely unforeseen issues with the Gravidarum components. At last, Patrick scrambled his way out of the portage cylinder, followed by Oakes, their faces covered in huge grins.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Patrick announced grandly. “We have seen the light.”
Statesman Junnot, still new to Principal Ryan’s preference for formality, laughed and applauded, but checked her enthusiasm when she found herself at the receiving end of a withering look.
“I don’t think we’ll have any more problems, Principal Ryan. Thank you for your support. I don’t need you further if you have things to do.” Patrick declared.
Ryan raised an eyebrow.
“Thank you, Principal Patrick. I will return to my duties."
But Patrick had already turned back to the Gravidarum.
Principal Ryan was glad to get back on the bridge, out of overalls and in uniform. Patrick's skill in engineering was unmatched anywhere in the military, and while the Significator had him on board, Ryan was content to leave all engineering and magnitude issues to him. His only extra support this last couple of days was in attuning gravity contacts as Patrick aligned the Gravidarum, a task easily carried out by a junior engineer, but Patrick entrusted the Gravidarum to only a few. Ryan supposed he should be flattered.
They’d completed the Albemarle equations and wave forecasts, and Statesman Junnot delighted in getting in on the ground floor to see how the Gravidarum/Substance union would drive her communications spreaders. Watching her clambering over the Gravidarum, Ryan could easily see how she came to choose mountain climbing as her favourite pastime.
Patrick and Junnot joined him later on the bridge.
“Are you going to the surface, Principal Ryan?” Statesman Junnot asked.
“Tomorrow or the next day, I’m not sure, Junnot.”
“I understand Principal Katya is your aunt?”
“Yes.”
Patrick smiled at Junnot’s attempts at familiarity. Ryan always resisted any overtures of friendliness, he didn’t make small talk with the crew, not even with him, after decades of friendship.
“What about you Patrick?”
“Me? Oh, I’m not going until the day of the ball. Too much to do in engineering still. I can’t leave it all to Oakes.”
“Yes, you can, Patrick.” Principal Ryan didn’t look at him.
“Ryan?”
“You are off duty for the next 36 hours. Get some rest.”
“I can’t, Ryan.”
Principal Ryan turned and fixed him with a steely gaze.
“Really? After 48 hours on duty? The bottom line is, Statesman Patrick, I’m giving you a direct order.”
Patrick was taken aback, pressed to recall a time when Ryan gave anyone a direct order. His strength as a leader stemmed from his confidence in his crew, his belief that a skilled crewmember should be allowed autonomy, and his faith that those abilities be employed to the highest degree that crewmember could offer. In turn, the crew remained loyal and disciplined, seldom giving cause for a reprimand or, as was the case right this moment, being issued a ‘direct order’, particularly one accompanied by an unyielding glare, and to his first officer of all people!
“Of course, Principal Ryan, I’ll consider myself off duty as from now. I might go to the surface and see my mother and Dr Langley,” he grinned at Junnot, “I guess you drew the short straw, Junnot, missing the Cotillion.”
“Not in my book, Patrick. I’m entirely happy to be here, becoming acquainted with the ship. I can’t dance anyway.”
“Not much happens in space dock,” he warned.
“It’s my first command post. Probably best to be stationary. You trust me with your ship don’t you, Principal Ryan?”
Ryan was deep in thought.
“Principal Ryan?” she repeated.
“I do apologise, Junnot,” he turned to her. “What did you say?”
Junnot and Patrick exchanged looks.
“You trust me with yo
ur ship, Principal Ryan, at least in dry dock?”
“Yes, of course.”
Then he turned and left the bridge, leaving both his officers to contemplate the suddenness of his departure.
The city tailor, far less imaginative than the one Alice met in Principality One, needed considerable direction in recreating her design. Jane wandered off, not much for shopping, and left Mary and Alice to deliberate, or in Alice's case, agonise over what colour would best suit. As usual, and as seemed fashionable, there were primarily the greys and blues and reds offered.
Alice recalled when her granddaughter Eliza attended her school dance. Her dress, a beautiful shade of blue, wouldn’t suit Alice’s colouring, but the design was exquisite, and it was this design she put to the tailor.
“But not in these colours,” she held up the usual suspects and instead provided him with an alternative. “This colour,” she said and took the beautiful pearls Patrick gave her from their case.
Mary gasped.
“Alice! These are superb! Where did you get them?”
“Statesman Patrick. He gave them to me before he left the Tabernacle. A dress of this colour would be lovely.”
The tailor imaged the pearls and advised he would produce samples for them to peruse within the hour. Satisfied, they went in search of Jane, waiting in the pasticium Principal Katya recommended.
“Alice chose a non-standard colour for her dress, Jane. The tailor sent us off while he sorts it out. The design looks even lovelier in the colour she selected.”
“It was something my…” Alice started to say it was like something her granddaughter Eliza had worn. “…something I saw someone wear once. It wouldn’t have suited me then but it might now.”
“Show Jane your pearls, Alice.”
Alice opened the case, and Mary laid the pearls reverently over the back of her hand.
“My goodness!” Jane was every bit as astonished as Mary.
“Statesman Patrick gave them to her,” Mary nodded her head slowly, her eyes wide and a hint of a knowing grin on her lips. “Did you know Alice, these are not available to everyone? Even in a society such as ours, there are certain, exclusive privileges. If Patrick is the Patrick we think he is, his family would be among the privileged few.”
The Afterlife of Alice Watkins 2 Page 3
