The Afterlife of Alice Watkins 1

by Matilda Scotney

  What Hardy saw was all this turning into a circular and progressively heated argument, one that would get them nowhere.

  “Psychology isn’t a valid form of medicine, Larry,” he said. “It hasn’t been practised for years and you have no expertise in the techniques. How often have you had cause to use the drugs of which you speak?”

  Clere was silent, fuming.

  “I’ll take that as ‘never’. What about you, Jim?”

  “Yes, twice, after a military accident in the Andromeda corridor. I had only just graduated.”

  Hardy nodded. He himself had never used such techniques or drugs on any of his own patients.

  “We were never able to analyse the fluid, Larry. Even if a molecule had been left, there’s no guarantee we would have ever discovered its secrets. How do we know the cancers she suffered were of the type we couldn’t cure?”

  “No,” Clere didn’t like his deficiencies pointed out but much was at stake here, so he would try reasoning, “but as an alternative to the Life Prosthesis.”

  Jim Grossmith saw that potential, but it would not be at Alice’s expense. He looked to Principal Hardy, though he doubted he would actually be considering Clere’s proposal.

  “It would be inhumane to keep her as a specimen, Larry,” Principal Hardy’s word was final. “She’s learning, socialising, albeit only with Jim and Kelly and the library staff, but she is adapting and rehabilitating. I note you have not even spoken to her in many weeks. The life to which she is entitled must be expanded and not taken from her. I’m sorry, Larry, you have not placed a cogent argument before me, therefore, the plan remains. She will return to Earth on the Significator.”

  “Her life belongs to science,” Clere dismissed the principal’s remark with a wave of his hand, a breach of protocol Hardy ignored.

  Dr Clere acknowledged neither of his colleagues as he turned on his heel and stormed through the portal.

  They watched him go. Lawrence Clere, all charm when he was getting his own way, receiving accolades, having his ego stroked, struck out like a wounded bear if opposed.

  With Clere gone, Jim Grossmith aired a few concerns of his own regarding Alice.

  “If she keeps insisting she’s Alice Watkins, do you think she will keep that persona?” he put the question to Principal Hardy. “To fully heal and integrate, perhaps she needs to be who she really is. I don’t agree with any of his proposals but Clere might have a point.”

  “Why? Because that is who we have told her she must be? You know her, Jim, Alexis Langley isn’t going to happen anytime soon, for now, we have Alice Watkins.”

  “I’m worried what the future holds for her.”

  Alice’s going away represented a sense of grief for which Jim Grossmith wasn’t prepared and Larry Clere’s persistence worried him. Hardy’s view, just to leave her be for now, let her get back to Earth and be normal for a while in the protection of the Tabernacle, seemed sensible.

  “What about the Moses pathogens, Jim?” Principal Hardy opened the registry. “Is there any reason to believe she’s not protected?” Alice had received all the required immunisations, he had checked and rechecked this information many times and didn’t need to do it again, but he wasn’t taking any chances.

  “I’ve never mentioned the Moses pathogens to her,” Dr Grossmith said, “besides, I think they’re irrelevant. Now she’s immunised, she’s no more likely to be infected than any of us. Clere has used the threat of the pathogens as a reason to keep her here.”

  Principal Hardy nodded. “Off the record, Jim, do you remember in the history, the original custodians of the sarcophagus approached A’khet about Alice when she first went to the Bell Institute?”

  Dr Grossmith did remember. He’d even asked them himself in recent years.

  “Alice calls all this science fiction, Abel,” he said, “I don’t know if A’khet has ever seen this method of preservation before, if they have, they didn’t communicate it to me when I asked them. I can’t even remember what they said.”

  Principal Hardy steepled his hands and tapped his forefingers on his lips.

  “Alice is science fiction to us, we never dreamed of a technology we couldn’t decipher. If the A’khet doesn’t know, then we, years behind them in understanding such mysteries, don’t stand a chance. But we both agree, do we not,” he continued, “that neither of us understands her references to this Alice Watkins and that she doesn’t even recognise her own face?”

  Dr Grossmith conceded that was the case. “We can only take solace in the fact that she uses the name Watkins, her uncle’s surname,” he said. “Somewhere inside her mind, she recognises that at least.”

  Principal Hardy agreed. “That’s true but for now, it’s all we have. We’ll be patient, and though I agree her memories are perplexing, the mists will clear in time. I wish I understood how she gained such extraordinary insight into the century from which she claims to come; her explanation and details are uncannily accurate. I almost believe something more is going on here.”

  And somehow, he had a sneaking suspicion that the ‘something more’ involved the A’khet.

  Chapter Nine

  A few hours after the intense debate in his office, Principal Hardy linked through to the guest quarters. Kelly’s face came into view.

  “Principal Hardy.”

  “Kelly Ann,” he said, using her proper title and name. “Has Alice had her afternoon tea?”

  “We’re just leaving for the mess, Principal Hardy.”

  “I’ll escort her today, Kelly. There are one or two matters I need to discuss with her.”

  “Of course, she’ll enjoy a visit with you.”

  Despite him receiving regular updates about Alice, they told him little of her emotional state and he found spending time with her allowed far more insight into his unusual guest, than any progress report.

  Alice was delighted to see him. She’d been on several outings to the mess with Principal Hardy over the weeks. He was a busy man, and she felt honoured he made time for her.

  “Good afternoon, Alice.”

  “Principal Hardy.” Alice had been learning how to respond to greetings in this society and where Principal Hardy was concerned, no longer felt the urge to curtsy.

  “Today, we’re going to the officer’s dining room for tea. I may find some different morsels to tempt you.”

  “I don’t need tempting, Principal Hardy,” Alice confessed. “The food is delicious. I haven’t found a single thing I don’t like. I even liked those little semolina cakes Kelly gave me to see if I could swallow.”

  “Well, you would be in the minority. They’re not manufactured for their palatability.”

  “That makes them sound awful, but I liked them.”

  Alice intrigued him, her humility and gratitude were refreshing, and she took simple pleasure in such ordinary activities. He understood why Jim Grossmith was so protective of her. She was an infant. Changing. Learning. Growing.

  Alice always had a store of questions about the station, the planets, himself, but today, he had to inform her that her time on the station was coming to an end, that soon, she would leave these familiar surroundings and return to Earth.

  “Are you happy here, Alice?” he asked when she at last allowed him to steer the conversation.

  “It’s all I have for the moment, Principal Hardy, I’m safe here. I’ve even got used to Saturn outside the window,” she pointed to the viewport.

  “Do you still believe you’re dreaming?”

  “You ask me that every time and yes, I suppose I do.”

  “Have I asked you before if it’s a pleasant dream?”

  Alice thought about it. No, he hadn’t asked her that.

  “It’s not a bad dream if that’s what you mean. I only know you, Kelly, Dr Grossmith, the library staff and Dr Clere and I don’t see him. I’m fine if it’s a dream. If it was real life, I would feel confined and somehow…” she looked around her before returning to him, “…without purpos
e.”

  “Alice, we plan to return you to Earth. You are ready to leave the station and broaden your world.”

  He’d been worried the news would upset her, but she only smiled.

  “Whatever you say, Principal Hardy. I suppose even fantastic dreams like this move along.”

  “I often reminisce about our first meeting Alice, when you said we had the labels mixed up?”

  She remembered. She still believed it.

  “I don’t think we did, but Dr Clere is of the opinion you should be studied, that we should use techniques and drugs to help you recover your memories.”

  “I don’t need help to recover memories.”

  “Dr Clere appears to be unable to separate you, as a person, from a cryogenic specimen. He views you in the same light and proposes more study.”

  She was silent, perhaps deep down the news of her leaving had made her anxious, but when she spoke, he didn’t hear concern in her voice, if anything, he heard…disdain?

  “Dr Clere views things through a narrow scientific lens, Principal Hardy,” Alice made strong eye contact. “To apply known scientific paradigms to a situation beyond his, yours and if I may say so, any of your scientists’ comprehension is a pointless exercise.”

  Principal Hardy maintained his composure in the face of this change. It could be pivotal.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “What would be his theoretical positioning? Where would he begin? From what I understand, all that could be done has been done, and all known scientific approaches are now exhausted. My uncle preserved me, Principal Hardy, so I would live, that is where the conundrum resides.”

  He nodded. “And he saw this outcome?”

  “I doubt it, how could he? But don’t look to science for answers. Therein lies a blank wall. I see this as posturing by Dr Clere and his attitude is disappointing.”

  “So, you formally reject any further scientific study?”

  She picked up her cup, her expression blank.

  “I’m sorry Principal Hardy, I was away with the fairies. Paradigms? I’m not sure what that means.”

  Remarkable! This is what they expected! The labels were not mixed up! And he would certainly not be advising Clere of this conversation.

  “It is I who should apologise, Alice,” Hardy said, the moment over. “I went off on a tangent about Dr Clere.”

  “Dr Clere is a prune,” she said and returned to her tea, acknowledging the steward who refilled her cup.

  Principal Hardy found it almost impossible to contain his excitement. He had seen a glimpse, a potential, like the one reported by Kelly, and he’d learned from it. They needn’t explore these momentary insights, at least for now. Alexis Langley had survived. Whether conscious or instinctive, he wasn’t sure, but as a doctor, he knew the human body had a huge and surprising capacity to heal itself. Alice only needed time, and her memories would surface. He became even more resolute in his decision about Clere’s proposal.

  A day later, Dr Grossmith and Dr Clere were again in Principal Hardy’s office.

  “Larry, you’re not to pursue her. Jim can follow her up and report back to you if there are any problems.”

  “That’s taking things too far, Principal Hardy!”

  “Nevertheless, as your principal, you are still under my command here on this station. You are to leave her alone.”

  “I will send my concerns to Principal Katya at the Tabernacle.”

  “I’ve already contacted her. These are her words to you, Larry—Dr Clere. Leave her be unless authorised otherwise. Principal Katya is preparing orders as we speak.”

  Lawrence Clere, grim, unsmiling and heartily dissatisfied at this turn of events, knew that here on Saturn Station, Principal Hardy’s word was law. He decided not to argue the point but wait until he could make the proposal to the World Principal herself. If anyone would see reason, it would be her.

  As they turned to leave, Principal Hardy stopped Dr Grossmith, allowing the disgruntled Dr Clere to exit alone.

  “Wait a moment Jim. I’d like to talk to you. That first time I spoke to Alice, she told me she had a theory.”

  “About what?”

  “About how she arrived here. She says we mixed up the labels.”

  Grossmith grinned.

  “I see, in that, she is really Alice Watkins, somehow preserved, changed in appearance and age and that the history we found with her relates to someone else? Yes, that sounds like Alice, but if that’s the case, how do we explain the data recovered from the chip?”

  “I know, it’s impossible.” Principal Hardy was eager to tell him of his conversation with Alice. “Do you recall Kelly’s experience of clarity with Alice?”

  Grossmith had read and reread Kelly’s account of the incident. “It was fleeting at best. It could have been random.”

  “You know you don’t believe that, Jim. Alice takes too simple a view of things to drop surprises on us, but yesterday, I also had a similar experience. I told her about leaving the station and, as an afterthought, about Clere’s views on further study.”

  “Didn’t that worry her?”

  “No, on the contrary, she struck me as irritated by Clere’s intentions. She countered his ideas, spoke as a scientist; confident, articulate and incisive. Her demeanour, speech, even the way she held my gaze, was not the Alice Watkins we know. The moment passed as quickly as it had begun but it was certainly not random. It was focused and on point. I’ve recorded my observations and encoded them to your personal file.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me straight away?”

  “I hesitated just in case it was random, but I realised at the time and become more convinced since, that her journey is one we can’t direct. She might be 30 or so and new to our society, but there is little difference between her and a newborn baby and what do we do when a new baby comes into the world?”

  “We educate the child, nurture it, love it and encourage its growth?”

  “Exactly. That will be our research but at a distance. Give her a life, a family. I will suggest this to Principal Katya—hopefully, she may find a close enough DNA match and we’ll see where that takes us. We’ll keep in touch and as time goes by, observe her milestones and enjoy watching her grow, as friends. In time, I’m certain she will recover her true self.”

  “I rather like Alice Watkins.” Dr Grossmith said quietly, he and Alice had become good friends. Her origins and all their old theories and expectations didn’t seem so important.

  “I like her too,” Hardy agreed. “But we are only seeing one side of Alexis Langley’s personality. She is a beautiful, gentle soul, but I would like to think she will eventually have all aspects of herself available to her and we should do all in our power to ensure that happens.”

  “Clere wouldn’t agree with any of this.”

  “He doesn’t have to agree. The Significator will arrive in proximal space within the month. When that ship leaves Saturn Station, Alice will be on board. I’ve arranged for one of Clere’s former patients, Educator Sebel to meet with Alice. I will brief her on the circumstances. She is also returning to Earth and though a little younger than Alice, I suspect, given her personality, they may become friends. She will be able to provide Alice with both companionship and tuition.”

  “It will be hard to let Alice go, but I confess to being relieved, Hardy. She deserves a proper life. Meanwhile, I’ll make sure she gets an Eduction chip inserted.”

  “This can be the only course of action, Jim. In a nurturing and loving environment, she may just remember who she really is.”

  Chapter Ten

  “Kelly, I’ve never asked, when do you sleep?”

  Alice was dressed in one of the too-flimsy nightgowns Kelly had given her, much skimpier and more revealing than anything she’d ever worn before and made of the same lovely fabric she intended to buy for the new baby’s blanket.

  “When you sleep, Alice,” Kelly replied.

  “What if something happens while I’
m sleeping?”

  “I’d know, don’t worry, I’ll be here.”

  “Does everyone who gets defrosted get a personal carer?”

  “Not everyone, Alice, only people with extended rehabilitation, and you weren’t defrosted.”

  “How long am I going to have this rehabilitation?”

  “As long as it takes.”

  Alice learned something new every hour. New things to add to her amazing dream if indeed it was a dream. Whatever, she was fine with it. She was happy here and although she didn’t know why, liked the normality her life had taken on now everything felt less foreign.

  “Why do you only sleep when I do?” Alice stayed on topic.

  “Not all the time, Alice, if I did that, nothing would get done!”

  Alice smiled, and that always pleased Kelly.

  “But how do you know when I need you?”

  It was like answering a child with never-ending questions.

  “I told you, I have your cells. They are co-written into my system and my body clock corresponds to yours.”

  Alice had forgotten. Cells and programming. She should remember such a simple thing.

  “What about when I go back to Earth?”

  “The cells will be removed, and I will return to my normal work and life until I get another KELA assignment, though none will be as amazing as you!”

  “Who will look after me?” Alice couldn’t imagine life without Kelly.

  “You can already look after yourself, Alice. You’re quite independent. Don’t worry, on Earth you will have capable and caring people to guide and support you, but you don’t need to be looked after.”