Later in the evening after abandoning the trip to the city due to Alice not cheering up to the level Amelia hoped, they sat together on the cliff top, looking out to sea.
“I’m sorry about earlier, Alice,” Amelia said. “I confess learning Principal Ryan is the baby’s father rather floored me. It’s hard for me to imagine him stopping his arrogance long enough to…” Amelia pulled a face, “I’m making it worse.”
Alice grinned sideways at her, she’d pulled up her knees and folded her arms to use as a chin rest to watch the moon.
“I know you think he’s arrogant, Amelia, so did I at first. He terrified me.”
“What happened to change your mind?”
“He’s Principal Katya’s nephew. After the Cotillion Ball, she asked him to take me to see the A’khet, we spent the whole day together then a few days later he came here, and we went to Machu Picchu. He’s nothing like he seems on the ship.”
“You’re in love with him?”
Alice answered with a small smile.
Well, Amelia was doubly flabbergasted; he must have redeeming features not apparent to anyone but his mother, and Alice of course.
“He grows flowers, Amelia, roses, beautiful roses, and he weaves baskets and hand rears puppies.”
“He does not!”
“Yes, he does, and he’s endlessly patient and understanding.” Alice couldn’t help but grin at Amelia’s disbelief.
“I can’t believe we’re talking about the same man. Sorry, Alice, I’m just trying to get my head around the fact you passed up the most gorgeous man in the universe—apart from John, of course—and went for the total opposite!”
“Amelia, I didn’t pass up on the most gorgeous man in the universe—not to me, anyway. It was never Patrick.”
Amelia put her arm around Alice.
“I’ll get used to it, sweetie. Don’t mind me!”
Mary and Jane didn’t get home till late, well after Alice went to bed and Amelia, still in a state of amazement, lay awake all night in the guest room rather than leave her alone.
Mary and Jane were delighted to see Amelia in the morning, but Alice, nervous about the coming revelation, hovered about, anxious and fearful. As it happened, she didn’t need to say anything. One look at a chocolate pastry sent Alice out into the bushes, retching violently. She’d only suffered mild nausea up till that morning, but now it looked as if the symptoms were going to settle in with a vengeance. The three women at the table looked at each other as they listened to Alice. Jane rose and went inside, returning with a diagnostic kit. When Alice came back, white and shaking, Jane held the Diaprime panel up to her body and checked the readings. Without a word, she handed it to Mary, who glanced at the results, then looked at Alice.
“A little girl, Alice, 7 weeks and 3 days,” Mary placed the diagnostic tool on the table for Alice to see, but she kept her eyes cast down and didn’t look. Noah had left her with something precious. If only she didn’t feel so sick. Once again, the bushes beckoned as another wave of nausea washed over her.
When she finally returned to the table, Mary brought damp fibrelettes and gently wiped Alice’s face. Alice didn’t resist.
“Why didn’t you tell us, sweetheart,” Mary asked.
“I didn’t believe it myself.” Alice felt ashamed to have thrust all this on them.
“And Principal Ryan?”
“He doesn’t know, I only really realised these last few days.”
“Amelia told us while you were out at the bushes that your chip was never replaced. That is indeed an oversight.”
“I never gave it a thought. I can’t tell Noah, Mary, he’d come back. He has to stay on Earth if he has a child—it’s why Statesman Hennessey left the ship, because his wife had a baby. He loved his work in space.”
“Principal Ryan wouldn’t come back, Alice,” Mary looked at Jane for confirmation, she nodded her agreement. “He would remain with the ship.”
“Did you know Alice was involved with Principal Ryan rather than Statesman Patrick?” Amelia asked, still finding this turn of events astonishing and not having much success in accepting Principal Ryan possessed any worthy attributes.
“Yes, it was apparent when they were together, but we only saw them a couple of times,” Mary said. She turned to Alice.
“When did you get the opportunity for this to happen? You’ve seen so little of him, and this obviously happened after Peru?”
“The last time I went to the Tabernacle, he was there,” Alice explained, under the circumstances, there was no point in trying to hide it anymore. “We’d been speaking on the registry before that. I’d planned to spend time with Principal Katya, but she had urgent business, so I thought I’d cut short my visit. Noah invited me to spend a few days at his home and then go to the Top of the World.”
“Did you say anything to Principal Katya?”
Alice shook her head.
“There was nothing to tell at the time.”.
“Well, clearly, that’s not the case. In fact, why didn’t you tell any of us?” Mary’s feelings were hurt, that much was obvious, Alice knew she’d made an unforgivable error in judgement in not telling the aunties the truth.
“Because of Patrick. He told me he loved me but refuses to believe I don’t return his feelings, and it’s just…well, Noah has to spend two years with him, and we felt—we felt it would be…awkward.”
“When the truth is hidden, misunderstandings occur, Alice,” Jane said, pragmatic as always, and though she shared Mary’s disappointment, her tone held no reproach.
“You’re right, Auntie Jane, we thought we were just keeping a little secret, one we could sort out when they returned.”
“He is a Principal, Alice, it’s his job to resolve issues,” Jane continued, privately resentful someone in Principal Ryan’s position had not shown more foresight.
“We let it go too far. It appears Patrick still has relationships, even while professing his love for me. Noah thought he might simply get over it in the two years and would accept the situation when they got back.” She looked at them all, tears of shame and sadness spilling over her cheeks. “I know we handled this badly, but we couldn’t have predicted this.”
“It’ll be a lot harder when Patrick finds out you’ve had Principal Ryan’s baby, surely it’s better you tell Principal Ryan now, and then he can tell Statesman Patrick?” Amelia suggested, not at all sure what course of action would be for the best.
But Alice remained firm, despite her distress.
“There’s another mission planned, and Noah is hoping for three years in threshold space. I’m not going to tie him down. We aren’t married. He hasn’t asked me to marry him, and he can’t take me with him, so there’s the end to it.”
“I think wives do go on starships,” Amelia said, an expression of thought-wrangling lining her face.
Alice shook her head, no, not the case.
“I met up with Statesman Hennessey at the Cotillion Ball. I was just making conversation and asked if he was enjoying being home, he looked happy, if a bit wistful, and I said how nice it would be if he could go back to the Significator and take his wife too. He just laughed and said he couldn’t imagine a more unwise career move. It reminded me of what you said, Amelia, about parents needing to be on hand to raise their child.”
“I was generalising, Alice. It didn’t occur to me you’d put it to the test.”
“Anyway, I can’t do that to Noah. We were only together a few days, and he’s dreamed of this all his life.”
“I don’t know much about military law,” Mary said, “but, he loves you…doesn’t he?”
Alice started trembling, she clasped her hands together, almost in a gesture of supplication, her voice pleading.
“I beg you not to tell anyone, any of you. Noah’s ship has left median space, we don’t have visual contact, only unreliable audio-text communications. You say he wouldn’t abandon the mission, but it would make it much more difficult for him to contin
ue, even if he concealed it from Patrick. I’ll tell him on our first link when he returns.”
“What about Principal Katya?”
“Please don’t tell her! She’d probably send a ship after him,” she cried. “I started all this secrecy, and now I must beg others to keep the secret. Auntie Jane, Auntie Mary, I don’t want to disrupt Noah’s life, and I’ve brought you nothing but problems. I’m so sorry.” Alice folded her arms on the table and buried her face in her sleeves, Amelia stroked her back to ease her distress.
“You haven’t brought us problems, Alice,” Mary knew she spoke for Jane. She went over to Alice, and kneeling beside her, lifted her tear stained face. She took a fibrelette and wiped the tears away.
“Alice, you bring us so much joy,” Mary’s voice faltered. “You are like the daughter we could never have, seeing you grow in your new life, learning, having friends and now…a baby! Alice, you’ve brought happiness beyond our wildest dreams! We won’t tell anyone, for now. But soon, the truth is going to come out. We will face all this together. Alice, we love you.”
Alice threw her arms around Mary and held her tight. Jane and Amelia sat quietly, watching on, each tearfully considering the potential consequences this situation might yield.
Chapter 34
That afternoon, the aunties thanked Amelia for her support and sent a still overwrought Alice for a nap. Jane brought coffee out to where Mary sat at the registry.
“I tried to check the military guidelines regarding marriage,” Mary said, pointing to her research. “There’s not much at all, at least for public viewing.”
“Nevertheless,” Jane said, “I’m sure Alice is wrong about this. On the Argos, years ago, Principal Stanley’s wife was science officer,” she perused the scant information Mary found. “True, they were childless, and she was military and qualified, but they were assigned together.”
“Alice has no current skills, and now it would appear she isn’t properly chipped either,” Mary sat back, the events of the day had wearied her.
“Principal Katya could sort that out in an instant,” Jane waved her hand and turned to the registry to check for further information, “and she could settle the question of whether Alice is correct in her assumptions.”
“Jane, Principal Katya needs to be told, it would sort it all out.”
“Yes, but we can’t unless Alice agrees, and I don’t see much chance of that happening at the moment, the problem is…” Jane searched through a list of felonies. Of the very few, one was a failure to report the birth of a child. She showed it to Mary.
Mary was horrified and read the list for herself. “Oh, my goodness, don’t tell Alice. It says nothing about concealing a pregnancy, so it isn’t unlawful yet.”
“She spends a lot of time on the registry, Mary, she might find out herself.”
“Let’s give ourselves some breathing space, and Alice time to settle down, we can tell her—just not right away.”
“Well, if she isn’t chipped, then she isn’t registered so there can be no consequences, for her at least, but for us…”
“I know,” Mary said, her face grim. “I don’t fancy going back to work, particularly as penance.”
“That’s what’ll happen,” Jane was equally disinclined to make any changes to her happy life.
Alice eventually came to her senses and decided to tell Principal Katya, but every time they spoke on the registry, and Alice steeled herself to come clean, each time, her nerve failed her. She knew the Accessor, out in far side median space still had some sporadic and unreliable communication with the Significator, but none filtered through, only to the Tabernacle. And Alice was still fearful Principal Katya would tell Noah.
Alice remembered her bravery in confronting Dr Clere, but in this, what did she feel? Shame? She shuddered at the idea any remnants of Alice Watkins’s old guilt complexes remained, and after four months of grappling with her conscience, avoiding visiting the Tabernacle and ensuring Dr Grossmith on his regular links didn’t notice her growing tummy, Statesman Mellor contacted her, and the matter was taken out of her hands.
“Statesman Mellor, what a surprise.”
“Alice—Dr Langley.”
“Is everything alright?” Alice felt a rush of concern, he hadn’t addressed her by her title for a long time, and he’d never called her at home.
“Principal Katya is suffering from syncope and has been prescribed complete rest.”
“Syncope?”
Principal Katya hadn’t mentioned feeling faint. Alice spent considerable time on the registry, reading and learning and knew about syncope. Amelia even teased her that the Eduction chip must still work for her to absorb so much knowledge.
“Yes, it’s happened on several occasions. Principal Katya refuses to take time away from the Tabernacle and hasn’t done so in 20 years, save for one or two visits with you. Her physician believes her body is insisting that she do it now. She has dictated a text, and I’m transmitting it to you. Alice, I understand there is no need for concern.” He inclined his head with a smile, and the transmission ended. The letter appeared directly, Alice smiled, even the text sounded like Principal Katya’s voice.
‘My dear Alice,
No doubt Statesman Mellor has advised you by now of my infirmity. I can trust him not to inject too much drama into the situation. I am indeed tired and have felt so for a little while. The specialists proposed stasis to ensure my body rested, but I could not imagine anything worse! Instead, I persuaded the physician to allow me to come to Tibet for complete rest with the A’khet and the monks. The physician will attend me on a regular basis until I am declared fit to return. It occurred to me to suggest I came to stay with you and your aunties, but then thought better of asking you to care for a decrepit old lady, although I know you would be kindness itself. I do not know how long I will be away, dear girl. There is no registry at the monastery. You may communicate via the Tabernacle, and it will be delivered by my physician when he visits. I am sorry we will not see each other for a while, but as I have no wish to retire completely yet, this rest will ensure my continuation. As soon as I leave the monastery, I will contact you, and we will enjoy a visit.
My respect to your aunties and my deep love to you.
Katya.’
Katya. Not Principal Katya. Alice went to find the aunties to tell them the news. Despite reassurances, she was anxious for her friend and felt no gratitude in the reprieve she’d been handed in not telling her about the baby. Alice sent a note to Principal Katya, thanking her for letting her know, and reiterating everyone’s insistence she take things easy.
Flowers were delivered with astonishing regularity—Patrick had clearly put in an order before he left—but one day, a shuttle arrived with a gift from Noah. Alice, Mary and Jane stood and watched it being unloaded.
“A piano,” Mary exclaimed. “What an extraordinary gift! Alice, I didn’t know you played.”
In all this time, it never occurred to Alice to mention her nocturnal musical excursions.
“I do, apparently, Auntie Mary, but only when I sleepwalk. It’s beautiful though. I love it. What an incredibly thoughtful gift.”
The piano, a replica of the one on the Significator, was installed in the parlour, below the portrait of Alice. She ran her fingers over the cabinet and caught a memory, the smoothness of the wood, the lights of the auditorium, and Noah. Mary saw her small, sad smile.
“Do you think you could play something for us?”
“I can only play when I forget who I am, Auntie Mary. Statesman Mellor, Statesman Patrick and Noah, all say I play well, I just can’t remember. It must be a subconscious skill, maybe if I practice, it’ll come back.”
Mary turned on the piano registry and requested the tutorial.
The tutorial came up, and Mary lifted the lid, inviting Alice to sit down, but the keys meant nothing to her. She shook her head.
“I can’t remember a thing.”
“The tutorial will help, go on, it’l
l be fun.”
And as the days and weeks past, practice she did, incorporating the discovery of music into her world, along with history and architecture and an interest in the stars—the latter so she could see where Noah might be. She stubbornly refused to give any thought to what might happen when he got back, or if anyone found out about the baby.
Seven months into the mission, all communication with the Significator ceased. The Tabernacle sent the Accessor back out to the edge of threshold space, but they only encountered silence. Principal Katya, still on retreat, sent Alice a message via the Tabernacle to assure her this happened on their previous mission and not to worry unduly.
The southern hemisphere summer turned to Autumn and the nights became cool. A restless Alice sat in front of the general registry, wrapped in a blanket, Pecky asleep on her shoulder. Jane came out of the bedroom and saw her sitting there, staring at a blank panel.
“What is it, Alice?”
“I don’t know who I really am, Auntie Jane.” Alice didn’t look up.
“Well, you are our precious girl,” Jane smiled, sitting down next to her. “Other than that, I don’t need to know anything else.”
Alice smiled.
“I know you love me, but sometimes, I question where I come from. I’m still officially Alexis Langley and since the baby,” she placed her hand on her swollen tummy, “those memories of Alice Watkins have become very vague. I don’t even know if she’s relevant, but not so long ago, I’d convinced myself I was her. If I could honestly remember Alexis Langley, it might be OK. But tonight, I couldn’t sleep—I was thinking about Alice Watkins’s children. I haven’t thought about them in ages. Two children, a boy and a girl, grandchildren too, and a life that’s fading away every day.”
“Maybe it’s because you’re pregnant.”
“I had these memories right from the start. I don’t accept them now as true, but they often creep in, and I have this urge to find out if somehow, they were ever true for someone in my distant past.”
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