The Afterlife of Alice Watkins 2

by Matilda Scotney

  “What do your sisters do, Principal Ryan?”

  “They’re both veterinary scientists, like my parents and both married to veterinary scientists. Each has a daughter.”

  “Your parents are vets! Vets are lovely people.”

  The brief vision of a ginger cat with one tooth drifted through Alice’s mind.

  “My parent’s speciality is mainly equine.”

  “Equine? Horses!”

  “Yes, that’s right and they keep horses now they are retired, but other animals too. A whole menagerie!”

  “I like animals,” Alice told him. “I feed the ducks on the lake at the Tabernacle.”

  “So, I heard.”

  The idea clearly amused him.

  “Except now they all swim towards me when I’m on the edge of the lake,” she said. “In fact, they swim towards everyone now, expecting a treat. I fear I may have created a demon!”

  “Ducks are self-sufficient creatures. It wouldn’t hurt if you stopped feeding them.”

  “It’s probably not about them, Principal Ryan.”

  The ducks represented an almost forgotten familiarity, something she still needed, but she wouldn’t say so.

  “I get a lot of pleasure from feeding them.”

  “Then it sounds mutually beneficial.”

  “Old habits. Where is your home, Principal Ryan?”

  “Principality 5. You called it England.”

  “I’ve never been to England. I never left Australia.”

  “Records say your chamber was discovered in old China. Scientists through the ages assumed Martin Watkins conducted his experiments there.”

  “Do you know much about me, my history?”

  “Some, during our education, we learn something of all the sciences, including cryonics. You came under that heading, even though you weren’t cryonically suspended. No category existed because you were a living specimen of preservation of an unknown kind.”

  “I’m glad then I’m not more of a curiosity.”

  “You should be glad. There were occasional revivals of interest, but Grossmith kept you away from prying eyes as much as he could, and you faded in most people’s minds. Anonymity is a good thing.”

  She decided when she met him on the principality ship that he would be a private man, though she wondered how a principal could ever achieve anonymity.

  He spoke to the responder and then turned to her, pointing to a triangle which appeared and hovered above the responder.

  "It's on auto, that icon—the propinquity alert will sound as we approach. We're not allowed to take the shuttles too close; there is very little place for technology in the retreat."

  She nodded and waited. He’d put it on autopilot for a reason and he shifted his seat around to give her his full attention.

  “Principal Hardy briefed me when you came on board the Significator, Dr Langley. None of us was aware you had awakened. In fact, none of us heard anything of you since university.”

  “He told me the story, Principal Ryan, but it must have been a dull 40 years for him. Apparently, I just lay there and did nothing.”

  “Not dull to him! His instincts about you made a compelling argument. In those 40 years, he had sole control over the project and kept you away from public and scientific scrutiny. Few had any idea you’d relocated to Saturn, let alone awakened. Have you read much about your time in stasis?”

  She shook her head.

  “I know I wasn’t dead, and that scientists weren’t able to analyse the fluid or the capsule. It seems I know as little as everyone else. There were a few other parts of people preserved alongside me.”

  "Those others weren't preserved. They were degraded samples. Our scientists believe they were placed there just to confound anyone who tried to decipher your preservation. The head and tissue treatments were easily explained. The sarcophagus that sheltered you proved impenetrable and impossible to scan, probe or analyse. The first examiners assumed you were dead. As the years passed, they recorded no cellular decay, and as instruments became more accurate, they detected brain activity."

  "Dr Grossmith told me, but then…" she hesitated, not sure if she should trust him with her fears. She glanced up—he looked serious, but smiled as he waited for her to continue, his scary factor scaled right down since they left the Tabernacle, so she took a deep breath, “…I saw an image of the sarcophagus, it terrified me. I hate the word ‘sarcophagus’.”

  He nodded, understanding.

  “There was no change to the sarc…capsule over the centuries.”

  “But I changed, didn’t I?”

  Alice hoped it was alright to talk about this with him. She’d managed to put a certain distance now between her new life and the subject matter, and—apart from the hated word ‘sarcophagus’—she didn’t give any of it much thought anymore, although she knew others did. And Principal Ryan was proving to be anything but dull.

  “Well, I’ve seen images only,” he shook his head. “Your form was indistinct. Analysis of the images from around 50 years ago, showed you gaunt, with no hair or teeth.”

  Alice went pale, the idea of him—of anyone other than Dr Grossmith seeing her like that horrified her. She’d seen her image on the registry when she went investigating but now, to hear it from someone like Principal Ryan, was worse than Toby telling her she had chin hairs! Obviously, some of it was still capable of striking a chord.

  Principal Ryan swallowed hard. What was he thinking? Why on earth did he start a conversation like this?

  “Dr Langley, I do apologise, I didn’t mean to be insensitive.”

  Alice recovered herself, she didn’t want him to think her vain, even though they spoke of a time when she had no control over her appearance.

  “It’s fine, Principal Ryan. I’ve seen images of myself, but you paint quite a picture. Do go on—if you don’t mind that is.”

  He hesitated—he was no expert—and now, she was waiting for him to continue; he’d committed himself, so he would make the best of it and choose his words more wisely.

  “These features alerted Grossmith to the changes in you. In the literature provided by Principal Hardy when you arrived on the Significator, we learned that around 14 years ago a technician noticed a change in your hair and fingernails—they were growing. Dr Grossmith arranged for you to go to Saturn Station and he never moved from your side. He witnessed the event ten years ago when the preserving liquid and the, er…capsule disappeared instantaneously, leaving no residue, you weren’t even wet. No trace of the fluid could be found in your body, as though the liquid was little more than an illusion. You were left lying in a shell-like structure. In the moments following, your life signs failed, and life support measures initiated.”

  He was glad to have avoided the word ‘sarcophagus’.

  “Where is the shell now?”

  “In the Bell Institute. When your hair began to grow, Dr Grossmith believed the time was close for your awakening. He asked Principal Katya leave to take you to Saturn to protect you from certain pathogens. Moses pathogens. They stop the growth of new tissue. Everyone is immunised, but of course, you weren’t, not then anyway. The pathogens can be deadly and if they weren’t, would certainly have interfered with the growth of your new organs.”

  “Moses Pathogens? Named after Moses in the Bible?”

  “Almost. There are ten pathogens under the umbrella of Moses Pathogens. The scientist who isolated them had Christian leanings and in fact, became a Christian when he retired. I can take you to see the shell if you wish. It’s a simple polymer dating from the 21st century. No mystery at all—much to science’s great disappointment—and it gave them no clue as to the constitution of the preserving liquid.”

  "No," she said quickly. "I don't want to see it. When I saw the image on the registry, it was just like looking at myself in a coffin. I felt physically sick."

  Ryan once more felt uncomfortable at having started this discussion. It was difficult to put himself in her place. It coul
d only be unbelievably bewildering.

  “Well, I can see why. I hope I haven’t distressed you, Dr Langley. An interesting footnote to all this is you didn’t age the whole time you were on life support.”

  "Principal Ryan, you haven't distressed me. I knew many of these things, including the fact I didn't begin to age until a couple of years ago. Dr Grossmith's view is the only one I've heard. I'm glad now I have another perspective, so I thank you for being so frank. I think Dr Grossmith is worried about upsetting me. He's very protective, unlike Dr Clere, who'd like to study me further."

  “That won’t happen. The Tabernacle will block any attempts to interfere with your life.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. I wondered in the past if all this might be a dream. I don’t want it to become a nightmare.”

  “You were on Saturn Station a long time, it must have been hard to leave.”

  “I don’t remember most of it, just those last few months, Principal Ryan,” she shook her head. “Before that I was in some kind of semi-comatose state. Apparently, they made me walk about to stop me from seizing up!”

  Alice laughed at the image that conjured up, of a Frankenstein monster, wandering around a space station covered in bandages, arms outstretched, but it was likely Principal Ryan wouldn’t understand, so she didn’t share the thought with him. With no warning, the enormity of the changes of these last few months hit home; she found herself looking down at her hands, fiddling with the fingers on her left hand, as if she were still wearing a wedding ring. It was sobering, and she looked over at him, he was studying her with interest. She returned her gaze to the viewport and the view.

  “My everyday activities were regulated and monitored by my carer and Principal Hardy,” she continued, keeping the emotion from her voice. “I was largely kept away from the crew, but I’m not a sociable person, Principal Ryan.” She sensed somehow, he would understand that. “But to answer your question, yes, it was hard to leave, I felt safe there,” then as if thinking aloud added, “It was strange, on the station I didn’t give a thought to rain, or the breeze, or the smell of grass, but when I came home…I realised how much I missed them.”

  “Do you feel safe now?”

  Alice couldn’t help giving him her biggest grin, despite the emotions churning inside her.

  "I have everything I could wish for, Principal Ryan. I'm so blessed."

  So blessed. What a beautiful phrase. She didn’t see his smile at her words, she was lost in thought, no doubt contemplating those very blessings. To have been through so much and to still feel blessed…

  He turned away as the propinquity alarm distracted him.

  "We're here."

  Alice, so engrossed in her history, hadn't paid attention to the fact that outside it had turned to bright daylight. The journey passed quickly with their unexpected conversation, but then, with such marvellous technology, nowhere was far from anywhere on this planet.

  Chapter 12

  From the forward viewport, even after landing, she saw they were closer to the sky than earth. Tree covered mountains slanted in tones of purple and green to the left and the right, set like a tapestry against the azure blue of the sky. What glory! She jumped from the shuttle, oblivious to Principal Ryan's offer of help, breathed deeply of the mountain air and ran towards the scene of sky and trees, grinding to a halt on top of a mountain ledge, a sheer drop stretching below her with no force field to catch any unsuspecting visitor.

  She laughed at the danger, then turned her head towards a curious structure that towered above, much of it cleaved into the mountainside. Instead of reaching outwards from the mountain face like the city in Principality One, this edifice descended low to the valley floor, the facade carved in relief from the stone. A maze of terraces tiered down the mountainside, each embellished with elaborate stone fretwork and gleaming white in the sunlight. From where she stood, even this close to the top of the mountain, many, many steps led to the uppermost gallery.

  What a magnificent place! A sacred place. The atmosphere seeped through to her bones. Inspired by the view and deeply affected by the atmosphere, she raised her arms to the heavens and closed her eyes, only opening them when she heard Principal Ryan’s footsteps behind her. She swung around, wrapping her arms around herself in a hug, filled with uncharacteristic freedom of spirit.

  “It’s beautiful,” she laughed, swinging back to the landscape of blue and green, and holding out her arms once more to embrace the view. “It makes me wish I could write poetry.”

  “I know the feeling,” he said as he stood beside her. “It makes me wish I could paint. Come along, Dr Langley, we are expected.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t call me Dr Langley. Have you been here often?” she followed him along the path.

  "I'll try to remember to call you Alice, but I'm programmed too well and may call you Dr Langley without thinking. Are you aware I should address you formally in company? To answer your question, yes, I have been here before, a long time ago, with Principal Katya."

  “I’ll forgive a lapse…” she said, then with a joyful shriek, sprinted towards the steps that led to the uppermost terrace. Ryan stopped, bewildered. What on earth had come over her? She bounded up the steps with the energy of a child, her laughter ringing out and echoing behind her. As she reached the top, she turned, red hair flying in the breeze, hat in one hand and the other stretched out towards him.

  “Come on Martin, you old slowcoach!” she called.

  The use of her uncle’s name sent a chill through Ryan. What could he be witnessing? A momentary step back in time for her? A shadow from her past? She seemed eerily familiar and at ease in this place.

  Alice, still laughing, turned and ran through an archway on the terrace, he spied her above the wall, running up the hill through the grass.

  In his confusion, he started up the steps, catching up with her close to a cluster of large rocks, flat on her back on the grass, in a starfish pose, giggling. Without a word, and with the sense he might be intruding, he sat down beside her.

  She swivelled her body to look at him.

  “Have I been here before?” she said, her laughter diminishing into breathlessness.

  “Honestly? I don’t know.”

  But if his aunt was correct, perhaps she had, centuries before.

  Alice jumped to her feet in one swift movement, shaking blades of grass from her hair, and looking around at the view.

  “Isn’t this beautiful, Principal Ryan?”

  He stood, doubting she really required him to answer.

  Then, laughter gone, she stepped close to him, studying his face, her expression sombre.

  “Do you think Alexis Langley ever visited here?”

  He was about to tell her she’d called him Martin, but at that moment, an orange-robed monk signalled to them from the archway, and the opportunity was lost.

  The monk escorted them to a stone-walled room. There were no furnishings, save for a table, two chairs and a bench. The window was little more than a narrow slit, permitting only a hazy slant of light to illuminate the room. To Alice it looked like a prison cell. She hadn't made the connection between the monk who escorted them and the fact this might be a monastery. She asked Principal Ryan for his thoughts.

  “It’s a sanctuary, Alice, the central structure existed for centuries, but the monks invited A’khet to remain here. They added to the structure and now occupy the lower levels, that way the monks continue with their devotions undisturbed.”

  “Were the monks the first people A’khet contacted?”

  “We assume so.”

  Alice would have asked more, but their discussion ended when four A'khet entered the room. As before, the calm and peace she felt at the Tabernacle when the lone A'khet visited, descended upon her. Each A'khet touched Principal Ryan's shoulder, smiled and inclined their heads, then continued the same ritual with Alice, only this time, unlike the encounter at the Tabernacle, there was no sudden recoiling of hands.

  Alic
e and Principal Ryan seated themselves at A'khet's silent command; each A'khet took a seat on the bench opposite. A sole A'khet spoke aloud with a thin, smooth and gentle voice. Alice couldn’t tell if it was the same A’khet she first met, as they were all identical in appearance and dress, only with a slight variation in height.

  “You honour A’khet, Alice Watkins,” the spokesman A’khet said.

  “Thank you, A’khet.”

  “You would like tea?”

  Alice felt their attention on her.

  “Yes, please, we didn’t get to finish dinner.”

  Principal Ryan smiled to himself as he remembered his aunt ushering them away. A’khet glanced at him, they’d heard him. So easy to forget no thought could be hidden.

  The tea was poured into small, hand-held bowls. Strange, brightly coloured petals that Alice didn't recognise floated on the surface.

  “They are safe, A’khet can assure you,” A’khet said, addressing her unspoken concern. “This tea will relieve any hunger or tiredness. It is most refreshing.”

  Alice sipped it. Sweet and fragrant. Like perfume.

  A’khet waited for a moment for her to savour her tea before speaking again.

  “You have had adventures, Alice.”

  “Yes, though it seems I slept through most of them.”

  “You believe you are sleeping now?”

  “At times, yes, but I know you read minds, so I won’t try to explain.”

  Each A’khet watched her with their large gentle eyes holding no expression, their extra eyelid sweeping across in complete and perfect synchronicity. She glanced at Principal Ryan, also watching her. What did they expect from her? Nothing was hidden from A’khet, and even as the thought floated, they assured her silently that A’khet would not intrude, and she may think whatever thoughts she chose.

  A’khet momentarily turned their attention to Principal Ryan, speaking aloud once more, as if to allow Alice a moment with her thoughts.

  “All is well with the Significator, Principal Ryan? We hear Statesman Patrick has worked his magic once again.”