The Afterlife of Alice Watkins 2

by Matilda Scotney

  “This must have been an amazing place to grow up,” Alice said, stopping to look at the trees and endless fields, as far as the eye could see.

  “Absolutely, great for us kids. The school is near the city precinct, so everything we needed was always within a short distance from home.”

  “Yet, you left it all and went to the stars.”

  “It’s still here, Alice, and no child remains at home forever. Life beckons. I never considered any vocation other than one that would take me into space. Even when I created the rose garden— viewed from above, each section is set out like a constellation. I was too young to go into space, so I made my heaven on Earth.”

  He felt slightly foolish telling her this, he’d only been a child, but her eyes became distant, lost somewhere, and it seemed she no longer heard him. She spoke, her voice dreamy, barely above a whisper.

  “Silently, one by one, in the infinite meadows of heaven, Blossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels.”

  Noah knew the poem, reading it as a child, many years ago, inspired him to lay out his new garden, copying his favourite stars in the sky. She couldn’t possibly know how much that passage meant to him.

  “Do your parents usually go away and leave the animals?” her voice, suddenly bright, startled him from his reflection.

  “Yes, yes of course. There are food and water dispensers, but if the fancy takes them or they want human company, the dogs wander over to Carl’s house. If my parents are away for a long time, a steward comes from the city to look after them. Otherwise, Carl comes over.”

  “Are you sure your parents won’t mind me wandering around when they aren’t here?

  “No, why? This is my home, too, I’m welcome here regardless if my parents are here or not. Weren’t you welcomed at all times in your family home?”

  “I didn’t even have a key, Noah, not that going to my mother’s house after I married held any appeal.”

  “Well, it’s not like that here. We’re welcome, I assure you.”

  Noah knew his parents best, so Alice accepted his reassurance. They walked back to the paved area where the dogs still lay unmoved, and he waved open a door that led to an elevator. The elevator opened directly into a large room. Blankets and veterinary equipment were piled high against one wall. The furniture looked vintage, with a slightly dilapidated air. A cat sat in a particularly saggy chair and meowed when it spied Noah, standing up and stretching in greeting. He picked up the cat and kissed its head. Alice went to the edge of the glass rectangle, less a window and more of a wall, but with a beautiful outlook above the trees. A stream and a forest lay to one side, and in the other direction, the spires of a city. A huge city.

  “Why so many trees?” she turned to him. “I can’t see other houses.”

  “There were others here before, built before the last wave of plague, but they didn’t survive the aftermath. This one was built later. Our nearest neighbour, Carl, is a couple of miles in that direction,” he pointed towards the back of the house. “This house came into my family after one of my ancestors purchased it from the designer.”

  “I understood people were only assigned homes when they retired or started families?”

  “Largely. If they wish, a married couple can be assigned a home, but usually live wherever their assignment takes them, if possible, they’ll be assigned together. If they have a child, they’re assigned a home automatically, and that home remains theirs until they no longer want it or ask for somewhere else.”

  “What about individuals, people like you? My friend Amelia lives on a school campus.”

  “Accommodation is provided on assignment, and at leisure, there’s always accommodation. Otherwise, single people are only assigned upon retirement. For military personnel, it’s their ship.”

  “What about personal items, what if someone likes ornaments or books?”

  He shook his head. “Only in their assigned quarters.”

  “So how come this house stayed in your family?”

  “Because it’s an historical site. Most houses, like your aunts’ house, are much more recent builds, and part of the Assignation Charter. This one was already under ownership by the Ryan family when the Charter was passed. If a house has a family history, it’s assigned in perpetuity—meaning it stays in the family until the family is no more.”

  “Like Patrick’s home?”

  “Yes, the same. Did he take you there?”

  “A few weeks ago,” she stayed at the window, her back to him, looking out over the trees, so she didn’t see the sudden tightening of his jaw. “He took me to meet his mother and sister. They told me all about their family; they have a real history.”

  “Did you go to the old village?”

  “We didn’t have time, it would have been interesting, I’m particularly fascinated by those old buildings. Who decides who inherits the family home?”

  “The family.”

  “But you have two sisters. How does that work?”

  “We’re all eligible under Assignation. It doesn’t matter who lives here, it will always belong to our family.”

  Alice loved this about her new society, so giving and accepting, competition and family problems seemed a thing of the past. In some things, though not all, these people had learned a better way.

  Noah watched Alice wander around the room. He wanted her to love his home as much as he did. Many of his best memories lived here, and he wanted to share those things of most importance to him before he parted from her, but he knew this house was certainly not as impressive as Patrick’s baronial hall—and it smelled faintly of dog. Few surfaces didn’t have something to do with animals deposited upon them; somehow, it hadn’t bothered him before.

  “You’re quiet, Alice. Is it not what you expected?”

  She turned to face him and grinned.

  “Not what I expected at all,” she said with honesty. “You are so precise and neat and well—I’ve said it before—grand, and this house is amazing and old and unique, it looks so lived in and...” she struggled to find a word to sum it up, but he read her reaction wrong and thought she was about to comment on the smell.

  “…and it smells of dog. I’m so sorry. I guess I don’t see the untidiness. It’s never been any different, and I’ve always been so happy here. My parents nursed a lot of orphaned animals and needed to keep them close. They set up the house to accommodate that. You should have seen it at the height of their careers when we had horses! We loved it, growing up, and Alice—my mother would not agree that I’m neat and precise. She would laugh out loud at ‘grand’.”

  She smiled—mothers see different things in their children.

  “I was going to say comfortable and homely. I would have loved growing up somewhere like this. When I first saw the house, it looked to me like a giant glass sandwich,” she wagged a finger at the glass wall, “but my aunties’ house has a doggy smell too, I can’t believe you didn’t notice. I feel quite at home.”

  He relaxed.

  “I hoped you would like it. Shall we have coffee?”

  She didn’t even have to answer. She never said no to coffee.

  While he was busy, Alice inspected several accolades lined up along a shelf, trophies she decided, even though they were little more than flat circles of plastic-like material. On each one, she made out a name—Noah Ryan. He handed her a mug and picked up one of the awards.

  “You were surprised when I said I grew flowers and liked weaving.”

  “Yes, sorry, preconceived ideas surfacing.”

  “No, that’s ok, you probably expected something more active. These accolades are for archery, I took part in several championships. I won all of them, I practised for hours at the range at the Tabernacle when my aunt was a statesman there. She’s quite a marksman herself.”

  He didn’t seem proud, but Alice thought it remarkable—remembering her own futile efforts—and said so, but he waved away her praise.

  “It was a long time ago.
There’s a range on the Significator, and the new statesman is a champion, so I’m looking forward to a challenge. Meanwhile, Alice, I can’t offer you much to eat. My parents don’t cook so they have no provisions. The Providore delivers meals for them as they need.”

  “That’s ok. I’m fine for now. What about you? Did you need to order from the Providore?”

  “Let me finish showing you around first. We can visit the city later.”

  “Noah, there’s no real need to visit the city.” Alice didn’t want to spend time in any other company. “I can cook, I’m quite good, that is if your mother wouldn’t mind me using the kitchen.”

  “I doubt she knows we have one.”

  Alice pointed down. “We’re standing in it.”

  “It doesn’t exist to my mother.”

  “What did you eat growing up?”

  “Weaned onto the Providore, my sisters and I.”

  “Then you don’t cook?”

  “Coffee from a dispenser is my limit.”

  She cast a practised eye around the kitchen area.

  “Cooking is a pleasure, Noah. You don’t know what you’re missing.”

  “I would be a willing student, Alice, it simply has never been suggested before. I’ll contact the Providore. What will I ask for?”

  The kitchen appeared well-equipped, and the cooking lights and plates were of a similar design to the ones at home, they responded rapidly to Alice’s voice and commands. She could probably do something here.

  Alice made a list on the registry, it had only been a matter of hours since breakfast at the Tabernacle, and because of the time difference, they would be planning dinner later, so she chose appropriately.

  Noah linked through and spoke to the Providore for a few minutes; obviously people he knew well.

  “They’ll be here in an hour or so. They know my parents are on retreat, so they were a bit surprised to hear from us. My father has been ill and taking his rehabilitation slowly.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that, Noah, you have seen them since you got back?”

  “I spent time here before the ball, and they’ll come up to the ship before I leave. They always do.”

  Noah showed Alice the rest of the house and the guest room, which afforded a view of the stream and forest. In contrast to the living area, the room was spotlessly clean and smelled of the honeysuckle growing below the window.

  He also showed her how the house ‘worked’. Every system drew power from panels powered by the sun. Alice wasn’t sure this was such a novel idea. Michelle had solar panels on her roof for hot water, and Alice had heard of people who got electricity the same way, but as Noah proudly told her how his parents preferred ‘old-fashioned’ power sources, she kept her opinions to herself. It came as no surprise later, to see a small parrulee alcove and Substance energy chamber, standard in most buildings.

  They walked down to the edge of the stream and sat on the grass, talking about the differences in buildings from her time and the diversity of styles she saw now. The house rose above them on its legs, looking less and less like a spaceship, and more like the happy family home Alice knew it once was, her earlier critical view of the house transformed.

  “You like the house?” Noah laid half propped on his elbow, watching her.

  She nodded and looked around. “The setting is gorgeous. Where does the stream run to?”

  “Through those woods.”

  He sat up and placed his hand on her shoulder, leaning close to point further down the stream.

  “My favourite place as a kid,” he laughed. “I’ll show you tomorrow if you like. I still like to ride through it.”

  His hand felt warm on her skin, and she closed her eyes. This would be a tortuous few days if he kept touching her.

  Chapter 23

  Alice loved cooking for them both. She showed Noah how to prepare a salad, but mostly he just got in her way. He’d never considered the idea of preparing food, and displayed no flare, so she ended up ordering him from the kitchen.

  The evening couldn’t have been more perfect. They took dinner out to the lower patio, surrounded by the dogs and the cat, which had somehow managed to find a spot on the hammock with the larger dog, who it appeared, hadn’t moved all day. The lights of the city twinkled in the distance, but here all was quiet, save the music of night birds and insects.

  “It’s summer here now, isn’t it Noah?”

  “Yes, though my favourite time of year is at the end of summer, just turning to Autumn.”

  “It’s winter at home now in Principality 19, even though it’s not really cold. We called it July, I arrived on Earth in April. I miss saying the months of the year.”

  “Then my favourite month is September.”

  “You know the months?”

  “I do. I read a lot, early literature speaks only of months; quarters and numbers possess little poetry.”

  “How do modern novelists manage if there is less romance in words?”

  “They manage well—a creative mind can summon poetry from just about anything.”

  “Mary and Jane don’t have real books, only the registry readers, and I’ve never seen a bookstore.”

  “I assume that’s a place to obtain books?”

  “Yes, and we had libraries, to borrow books for a few weeks, then we exchanged them for different ones.”

  “I see,” but he didn’t see. The concept of using money escaped him, and he wondered at the wisdom, given what he knew of her society, of trusting property to unknowns.

  “Principal Hardy has a lot of books, and the Tabernacle library, so they are available, aren’t they?” she asked.

  “Yes, the author supplies bound copies upon request, but it’s not very common.”

  “Not the same as browsing a bookshelf for a title that takes your fancy,” she grinned, and her expression suggested he was missing out on a long-lost pastime.

  “I can browse a registry for books, if I wish, Alice, but for true escape from work and everyday issues, I come here. I feel at peace, even when mother and dad are home with all the dogs and animals, and it’s just one big noise.”

  “Isn’t space quiet?”

  “Not for me. It’s a workplace. I don’t have any set hours of work, I can be called at any time. Patrick and I share command duties, but if I’m on the bridge, I’m in command. If I want time off, I can delegate to him or in the case of our next mission, Statesman Junnot.”

  “Is he in the military?”

  “Military, yes, but he is a she. She was due to come with us last time but suffered a serious injury while mountaineering. That’s why Hennessey came on board.”

  “It didn’t occur to me you would have a female second officer,” she admitted, though there was no reason it should have surprised her.

  “I rather warmed to Hennessey the second time I met him.”

  “He just wanted to get home. Once word came through he’d become a father, all thoughts were on returning to his family.”

  “That’s understandable.”

  “Yes, it is. He spent time on Septimus Station and the Inquisitor but never chose a military career. He only ever wanted to raise a family, and then found himself in space when it happened.”

  “Couldn’t you have chosen someone else?”

  “Yes, plenty of people, but not with his background in linguistics. We were contacting a new species. Junnot has the skills, but of course, she wasn’t available, so Hennessey got press-ganged.”

  “Didn’t he want to go?”

  “Under other circumstances, yes, but he and his wife were preparing for a pregnancy, so not a good time. Junnot’s accident happened only a few days before we departed, but I think, despite the situation, Hennessey was rather intrigued at meeting a new civilisation.”

  “It’s a shame it went pear-shaped.”

  “Pear-shaped?”

  “Didn’t work out.”

  “Yes, but we couldn’t predict the outcome. I’m sure we’ll do better next time
.”

  “Take a cake,” Alice suggested.

  He leaned forward, instantly reminded of their conversation on the Tabernacle terrace.

  “What did you say?”

  “Take a cake. That’s what my mother did when she wanted to meet new neighbours.”

  Alice was distracted by a horse walking over to the dog in the hammock, nudging it none-too-gently with its nose, as the hammock started to swing, the dog fell out. Unhurt, it stretched and flopped down on the paving.

  “The horses here—they’re enormous,” Alice said. “I thought Jorrocks was big at first. But these horses…”

  “We need large horses,” he pointed to himself. He was right, she agreed, pity a little horse with short legs carrying him around.

  “What about your mother? If she’s Principal Katya’s twin, does she have a pony?”

  He laughed.

  “No. She rides these horses, and she controls them. No nonsense there. Don’t worry, you’ll have no trouble.”

  “Oh, are we going riding?” Alice didn’t hide her dismay. These horses were for giants. Jorrocks was for midgets like her.

  “Tomorrow. We’ll take the horses down to the woods. They love the exercise, and I can show you the countryside.”

  The rest of the evening passed in pleasant conversation until Alice stifled a yawn; she felt tired, even though she didn’t want the evening to end. Noah stood, offering his hand to help as she wriggled out of the oversize chair, but instead of letting go, he kept her hand in his, and she looked up at him, her heart beating wildly. Was he going to kiss her? Touch her? But he only smiled.

  “Goodnight, Alice. Another wonderful day in your company.”

  “Goodnight, Noah. Thank you.”

  He watched her leave. Of course, he wanted to kiss her, to touch her, but he couldn’t find the right moment. He waited for the sound of her door closing before he sat down again, contemplating the lights of the city and his own ineptness. More than once, he’d considered creating an elaborate seduction scene, even though he’d never tried such a thing before, and the only person to go to for advice just happened to be the other person in love with Alice.