Despite turning their attention away from her, Alice sensed strongly her presence here held more significance than a simple desire to get to know her. She wished she understood why.
“Indeed, A’khet,” Principal Ryan responded, “and is aboard the Accessor as we speak, working that same magic to allow us to push out the boundaries of median space.”
“It’s not magic.”
Principal Ryan turned his attention to Alice, quietly engaged in sipping her tea and delicately pushing the tiny petals floating on top.
“Well, of course, it’s not precisely magic…” he started to say, but his tongue stilled, not a paralysis to struggle against, more a tranquil rendering to silence. Unable to say another word, he watched A’khet turn back to Alice. Silence descended in the room, and for some minutes, no-one spoke. A’khet gazed at her, waiting, patient, unhurried—attuned to one another.
"I saw the engines," Alice said dreamily, with just the hint of a smile, her voice soft and low. "Patrick showed me. They chimed and shone, and the harmonies rose above, and beyond any sound I ever heard in music, all flowing together into one perfect note, and the light—purple, to blue, to purple," she rocked her head from side to side in rhythm with the words as she summoned the memory. "In here," she raised her hand to her chest and her eyes to the A'khet. "The sound, in here," she laid her hand over her breast, below her throat, "and I remember the colours…” then sighing mysteriously, she paused and carried on sipping her tea, the moment as forgotten as that which occurred on the monastery steps.
Principal Ryan, stunned into immobility by both A'khet's powers and Alice's response, looked to A'khet for an explanation, but they remained focused on Alice. Manifested on each of their faces, an expression he'd never before seen in his few encounters with them, something like—he struggled for a suitable word—recognition? No—not only recognition, more like affection, but more even than the affection they had for his aunt. This expression, it was love. Undeniably, A'khet loved Alice? But he also witnessed a wave of indefinable sadness as they turned their eyes to each other and bowed their heads.
If Ryan was baffled out in the meadow, nothing compared to his feelings now. A succession of how’s scrambled through his mind. How could she know the harmonics of Substance? How could she have Knowledge? How could they know her?
His aunt was right. There was more to Alice than met the eye, and he was now certain there was more to A’khet than he previously believed.
As if they'd received all they required, A'khet rose. The A'khet who spoke throughout the interview stopped for a moment and placed his hand on Principal Ryan's arm, delivering in silence, just below his throat, the same place where Alice indicated on her own self a moment ago, an echo of that which is left after words are heard.
“Time will be forfeit, dear brother, until then, A'khet entrusts our beloved daughter to you. She is not for Patrick. A'khet always knew you would be drawn to her.”
Ryan felt a soft pulsating presence in his chest. Knowledge is literally drummed into the beneficiary, and this Knowledge was for him alone. But he didn't understand what A'khet meant about time being forfeit, and before he could regain command over his voice to ask, A’khet was gone.
Ryan looked at Alice, puzzled. He was drawn to her, in a way he couldn’t explain. Just as he couldn’t explain his conduct in manoeuvring Patrick onto the Accessor. His regard for her began that night in the auditorium, a regard neither influenced nor directed by the A’khet, of that he was confident.
She smiled up at him, there was a soft glow about her, her eyes held…what? He couldn’t tell…something. But Alice realised none of this. Still relaxed from the effects of the A’khet and their special tea, it occurred to her she’d completely forgotten to ask A’khet why they wanted to meet her again.
“The meadow, Principal Ryan,” she said, “at the back of the terrace. Would you mind if we walked there for a little while before we go home?”
The incident on the steps and in the meadow from earlier apparently forgotten, he knew instinctively that this time, Alice would visit the meadow and see it through new eyes. He didn’t answer, just followed her out onto the grass and sat beside her high on the hill, looking down at the monastery, discussing the scenery and life in space, with him doing most of the talking. The monks brought tea when they realised their visitors had not yet left, and the two continued in amiable conversation for many hours until the sun had almost disappeared, and Ryan reluctantly insisted they return home.
As they descended the hill with Alice still chatting about the views, he half expected her to bound down the steps with the same vigour she'd bound up them, but she stayed by his side. He could only speculate on the two sides of this lovely redheaded girl, currently busy pointing out features of architecture on the monastery she thought most beautiful and smiling at him in expectation of his agreement. He wondered why, not once during their encounter today, did the A’khet mention Alexis Langley…not once did they address Alice by her true name.
They'd almost reached the shuttle when Ryan stopped walking, overcome by an overwhelming compulsion to turn towards the monastery. Alice continued to the shuttle, not noticing he wasn't at her side. The upper terraces, glowing in the dying sun, threw shadows out towards the mountains, but he could just make out a solitary figure, a silhouette at the moment when day moves towards night.
“Our daughter’s earthly form walks with you.”
Ryan felt the words thrumming against his chest.
“A’khet address her as Alice Watkins,” he answered from his heart. “Which is she?”
But Noah Ryan felt only stillness as A’khet simply melted into the fading evening light.
Chapter 13
As the shuttle lifted, unaware of Principal Ryan's momentary encounter, Alice peered through the viewport for one last glimpse of the mountains and monastery, but she could only see a mantle of darkness. A last look would be nice, but she knew in a few minutes, as they travelled, the night would pass into day. Alice was becoming used to this passage of light and time, and as the daylight came through, she smiled across at her companion.
“I loved it there, Principal Ryan. Thank you for taking me. The monks are lovely too and so polite. I have no idea why I was suspicious of meeting the A’khet again.”
She settled back in her seat and tucked her hair over one shoulder. Ryan watched her from the corner of his eye—paying him no mind and smiling to herself, looking satisfied and comfortable. Around him, people didn't get that feeling often. Today, he'd seen much to bewilder, not least that she had little memory of the events.
“I loved the tea as well,” she continued, “it was gorgeous, is it something we can get at home?”
"No, I don't think so, I believe the monks make it."
"Oh, what a blow," her disappointed, pouting face caught him off guard, and he laughed, but it gave him an idea, a way of prolonging their time together.
“I could take you somewhere for something I know you do like.”
“What is it?”
“I won’t tell you yet but would you be happy to detour to the city before we go back to the Tabernacle? We can have a late breakfast.”
“Oh, that would be nice. How thoughtful. Thank you, Principal Ryan.”
“You’re welcome. Perhaps meanwhile, you would like to tell me about your new home? Principal Katya tells me it’s beautiful.”
“Oh yes, it is.” Alice sat up, always eager to speak of her new home.
"The house is on a cliff, well, just back from the cliff edge, so there are views of the ocean. On the opposite side of the house, we have lawns and stables with horses, and we have two dogs, which are nearly as big as horses, and a cat with half a tail."
Alice spoke in long sentences and gestured to add emphasis, from wide sweeps of her arms, down to measuring with her hands how much of the cat’s tail was missing.
Ryan deliberately slowed the shuttle, he could have returned them in under an hour if he’d a mind, b
ut he was in no hurry for their time together to end. He wanted to stay in her company, enjoy her happy explanations and simple joy, her startlingly green eyes and the freckles across her nose. He was convinced, occasionally, he’d witnessed a glimpse of Alexis Langley’s personality, but he couldn’t deny the Alice side possessed a warm and gentle disposition all her own.
She rattled on unfettered for a considerable time—extolling the virtues of her new home, about learning to ride a horse, the fish she caught and cooked, that she was no longer frightened of goats, and the patch of garden she’d cultivated for her own projects. She’d learned modern growing techniques and how to keep plants healthy and free of pests. And she told him in hushed, reverent tones of the view from her room at night when the moon was full. She thought it was heavenly and said so.
“But the loveliest of all are the aunties,” she told him. “I confess I still feel odd calling them that sometimes.”
“Why? I understood one of them is as close to an aunt as you can get. Principal Katya has assumed the title of auntie for herself.”
Alice wasn't sure about confiding in him. He might think her batty for having retained memories no-one believed were hers, so she would give just a little information.
“I know you’re aware I have confused memories, Principal Ryan, some of those memories place me around their age. Whether they’re true or not, they still have an impact.”
“Perhaps your aunt could help you discover something of your ancestry. It might help things fall into place for you.”
“I tried it with Amelia—Educator Sebel, but I found it…well, we only asked about Alexis Langley.”
To most people, researching Alexis Langley would make complete sense, but after the A'khet's cryptic words on the terrace as they left the sanctuary, and that they'd used the name ‘Alice Watkins' at the start of the interview, he was at a loss to form any theory. Though not a spiritual man, Ryan had faith events would evolve as they should. To speak of it to her might make matters worse.
Meanwhile, Alice waited for a response to her comment.
“Educator Sebel would be limited as she’s not related, and you were possibly carrying out the search on a non-signatured registry, it blocks any information that isn’t public. If you use your home registry with your aunt, those barriers aren’t there.”
“Dr Clere talks about me as if I were public property. Contravening privacy seems not to worry him. He spoke of me to Educator Sebel.”
“He shouldn’t talk about you to anyone, Alice. He’s vaunted his contribution to your recovery in a report to the Tabernacle, and he refuses to see you as an individual. He may take some convincing, but I doubt you need to worry about him.”
As she listened, she gazed thoughtfully out the forward viewport. Such a lovely day, and Principal Ryan such unexpected and pleasant company. A day in Tibet and now another day with no night in between. A journey like this would have taken hours in her old life; technology was in for an exciting future—the whole human race was in for an exciting future once they got past the plague.
“I was never imaginative. I don’t understand how I would have conjured all this up for myself.” Unintentionally, Alice gave her thoughts a voice.
“Conjured up?” Principal Ryan smiled. “Alice, I don’t feel conjured up, and I doubt Principal Katya or the A’khet do either. Conjuring up a completely different species with all their attributes would be a pretty tall order.”
“Patrick said something similar, and so did Dr Grossmith. I suppose I feel it was because I don’t remember being Alexis Langley, but I’m not the Alice Watkins I think I remember either.”
“Perhaps it's a good thing. Paving the way for memories that make complete sense.”
“Maybe, but what if the memories of Alice Watkins disappear and no other memories take their place?”
She was expecting an answer, but he had none to offer, so they both retreated into silence. Like Alice, Principal Ryan didn’t mind a hiatus in conversation, but this time, he was glad when the city loomed into view.
“We’re here. This place we’re going—in part, you are indirectly responsible for.”
He landed the shuttle on the same platform she and Principal Katya arrived at when Alice first visited the city. Alice kept her intrigue under control until they were inside.
“I don’t understand how I’m responsible.”
He pointed. “There.”
It was a regular, modern eatery, set up with booths and tables, not much different to any eating establishment of this or her own time.
They sat down opposite one another in a booth and Ryan pulled up the menu on the registry. Without a word, he showed her an entry.
“Hamburgers!” Alice gasped.
“Yes, Chef at the Tabernacle shared your recipe,” he flicked the entry to place the order. “It’s become quite a local favourite.”
“Have you tried them?”
“Not yet, I’m about to,” he grinned.
She liked his funny downturned smile. In fact, she found she liked everything about him, especially his eyes, and his voice, deep and melodious, and far kinder than she gave him credit for at their first few encounters. He was so different away from the Significator, and she felt comfortable asking him questions about his work, and what made him special enough to work on a spaceship.
“Spaceship is an old term Alice,” he said, clasping his hands loosely in front of him on the table. “I’m a planetary scientist, an astrophysicist and a cosmologist, much of my work on the Significator involves celestial cartography.”
He waited for it to dawn on her he’d mentioned this to her the night before, but she showed no signs of recognition.
“I know it’s all to do with space,” she said, “but I’m not sure what any of it means. My lessons revolved more around Earth’s society than space.”
“In simple terms, I chart the stars, classify planets and their suitability for exploration by humans or by drones or remotes.”
“It sounds important.”
He acknowledged her appraisal with a smile.
“Now we are actually exploring...”
At that moment, the food arrived. Alice made a conscious effort not to let her jaw drop. Crammed full of colourful extras, most of which she didn’t recognise, it was clear someone’s fancy had run riot and built extravagantly on Alice’s original description of a hamburger.
Principal Ryan, beyond impressed, his work forgotten, raised his eyebrows in awe.
“I’m not sure space exploration is as important as inventing hamburgers, Alice. These are magnificent!”
“I didn’t invent hamburgers,” Alice said in a small voice, not wishing to claim accolades for something she had no part in—certainly not this towering creation, not even recognisable as a hamburger, and possibly a little overwhelming as a breakfast dish.
“They’re something we had in my time, Principal Ryan. I used to make the meat patty and put other things with it, but nothing like these monsters. To get one of these, one would have to go to a hamburger restaurant.” Even then she doubted they would have been this formidable.
Alice tackled the concoction by deconstructing it. The chefs still hadn’t mastered the bread, but the salad and meat patty were both spot on, and the cheese, excellent. Alice questioned Principal Ryan about the sauces and other additions, which tasted OK, but he didn't seem to know much about food. Alice felt a little self-conscious about the fact the burger kept falling apart and dropping on her, and that most of it got applied to her face, requiring lots of fibrelettes to mop herself up with, though none of it seemed to bother Principal Ryan, who ate as if he'd taken lessons from Patrick. She spied other people at the eatery with hamburgers and marvelled at how something so simple could catch on. She supposed they wondered about that at first in her time too.
Principal Ryan called for coffee when they finished, but Alice only waded through less than half her meal. In her old life, it would have represented enough for three days’ di
nner.
“They are amazing Alice. Well done.”
“But I didn’t invent them,” she said once more, with a shrug. What’s the use? Hamburgers were hers it seemed, along with blue rinses and crochet.
“You may as well accept it. After all, there’s no-one we can ask.”
“But it’s not the truth.”
She gave up with a sigh. It was pointless to pursue it, and she changed the subject to something she knew he would talk about.
“Principal Ryan, will this registry show us proximal space?”
“Yes, of course, on a small scale though.”
He woke the registry, and on command, it displayed a colourful diorama covering the table. A small Earth and other planets slowly revolved as they made their way around the sun, “in their season”, as Principal Ryan poetically referred to them. Other, technical commands to the responder resulted in additional components being added, such as asteroids and dust clouds.
“This is proximal space,” he ran his finger in a circle around the sun, she recognised, with no small measure of satisfaction, all the planets, and even the moons of Saturn.
“And this area here is median space.”
He showed her how median space bounded proximal space.
“Like the brim of a hat,” she offered, and he agreed it was an apt metaphor. A small area contained within median space ran in an arc, directly along a short section of proximal space, containing planets with no names, only numbers—these were for exploration by one of the other ships, he explained. Then he pointed out another section, extending beyond the encircling ring of median space.
“This is Region 931. It's in threshold space, the area we visited on our last mission, which, as you are aware, fell short of success. The area is now quarantined.”
She vaguely recalled something about them being chased, but the specifics escaped her, so she pointed to a mark near Saturn, feeling a tiny twinge of nostalgia.
“That’s Saturn Station, isn’t it? How many stations are there?”
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