“Alice?” She didn’t answer.
“Alice? Are you alright?” He retraced his steps.
She turned then and opened her eyes, her lips curled into a small quizzical smile. She lifted her arm to point towards the cylinder.
“I know this.”
Patrick stood, bewildered, and though he knew he shouldn’t be touching her in sight of his crew, put his arm around her to steer her from the engine room.
“I know this,” she had said. How could she know this? Any of it? He glanced back at the Gravidarum to see what secrets they might have imparted, but they were silent, as they should be.
The moment in the engine room apparently forgotten, she thanked him for the evening all the way to her stateroom, while he relegated the incident to something he would consider later.
“Patrick…”
“I know,” he laughed, “ ‘thank you, Patrick, for a lovely evening’. You’ve told me ten times!”
“Well, it was lovely.”
“We have a couple of evenings left before we get to space dock. We’ll do this again.”
He put on his gorgeous smile, kissed her hand and left her to watch him walk away before she opened the portal. He certainly knew how to make an entrance! And an exit!
Alice stood at the image definer. No longer the image of an ageing Brisbane widow, this was the image of an attractive young woman. Where Alice Watkin’s face and body had gone, she had no idea and she didn’t really care. She liked this image much, much more. And Patrick had told her she was beautiful.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Amelia amused herself the night before to such an extent she missed breakfast, not linking via the registry with Alice until much later in the morning, half asleep and full of apologies.
“I’m so sorry, I spent the whole night talking! Can you imagine that?”
Alice could imagine.
“I didn’t get to bed until dawn,” Amelia peered at her from the comm. screen, bleary-eyed.
“Dawn?” Alice hadn’t realised. “We have dawn here?”
“Well, just before lights up anyhow. I am so tired!”
Alice grinned. “Serves you right.”
“How did your night go?”
“It was...lovely.”
“What time did it end?”
“At a decent hour!”
“Just asking. I’ll be there for lunch. What are you doing now?”
“Accessing the information registry. My educator has a hangover, so she can’t come and help me with my lessons,” Alice took the opportunity to poke some fun at her teacher.
“We’re on a starship, can’t be a hangover, more of a sleepover. Keep with the registry and store up the questions. We can go over them after lunch.”
The communication screen flicked off and Alice turned her attention to the information section. A light blinked in the bottom right corner. She hadn’t noticed it before, Amelia always sat directly in front of the registry during lessons. A word blinked in rhythm with the light.
“Command.”
On Saturn Station, Alice used the voice responder on the registry with varying success, but she had never seen one of these icons. It was listening and waiting for her to speak, blinking and listening, listening and blinking. Alice was unsure, so she stared at it as if it might do something other than blink and listen.
She said the first thing that came into her head, a computer word she’d heard Eliza use, bending towards the light and raising her voice as if the registry were deaf.
“Goggle.”
The computer showed her a pair of ancient-looking eye coverings. She wasn’t sure what Goggle did, anyway.
Perhaps a word from this time might work, something she’d heard mentioned but didn’t understand. The listening light blinked and waited.
“Sarcophagus.”
A list appeared and there, an entry entitled:
“Sarcophagus images. (Fragment-public domain/educational). Human preservation specimen (Sleeping Beauty Phenomenon (colloq.), Sarc & Darwin et al.). Research documentation dated: May 2318 (closed file–clearance code essential). Property; Bell Institute. Archived. 2497/4th quarter.”
Several images, captured from a distance, showed the interior of the cave, the chamber in which she was found. She tried to read the date on the first slide, but the numbers had degraded, it looked like 11/2206 though she couldn’t be sure. If she had been preserved in 2127 and Dr Grossmith said the Chinese military found her around 80 years later, then these were old images, original images and taken at the time of her discovery.
Held fast by morbid curiosity, she watched as each picture drifted in eerie slow motion across the registry, mostly showing containers and the grotesque image of a withered head. Bright lamps had been installed in the cave for illumination. In the centre of the cavern was a long glass-like receptacle, but at this distance and with the inferior quality of the image, it was difficult to gain an appreciation for its contents. Despite the bright lights, it occurred to Alice that in the long years she was in there, undiscovered, it would have been cold and silent. She shivered, but she didn’t turn away.
One image stayed longer on the screen, the camera or whatever device was taking the pictures had moved alongside the receptacle. Instinctively, Alice’s hand rose to touch the image with her fingertips, and as she made contact, there followed a deep and profound sadness.
The pictures resumed their gradual progress, ensuring each feature of the cavern was covered. The camera swept in close on the final image to view the glass container from above. It was difficult to see properly because the reflection of the lights on the glass obscured her vision. Alice leaned forward and peered at the image, just making out the sickeningly pale, hairless, corpse-like figure lying within.
Alice’s eyes widened in horror and her breath felt as if it had been sucked from her body, she leapt to her feet, almost knocking over her chair in her haste. She’d dared to ask the registry and now, it had given her the shocking answer. A sarcophagus was a coffin and Alice found herself staring down at her own grave.
Unnerved, she passed her hand over the access panel, backing away as the register went dark, but the listening light still blinked. Sitting on the bed, she tried to slow her breathing but couldn’t settle. Shocked and unnerved, she needed Amelia but felt too menaced by the registry to call her and had no idea where crew decks were, even if she’d been permitted to go there.
Desperate for a distraction and needing to do something, anything while the shock and horror of those images passed away, she decided the observation deck might just offer a place of safety.
Rushing through the portal, she ran straight into Patrick’s arms.
“You’re in a hurry, trying to avoid me?”
“No, no…not at all. In fact,” she stammered, relieved to see a friendly face, “if you have some free time, I can’t think of anyone I would rather have bumped into.”
Patrick, secretly thrilled at her evident relief in seeing him, held her steady longer than needed. In his head, he appreciated he was already breaching one directive or other, but she looked pale and anxious, something had occurred to bring on such distress.
“Yes, a few minutes. Where were you headed?”
“I was on my way to the observation deck. I had a fright and just wanted to…I’m not sure…”
“Get away from what frightened you?” he offered, at a loss to guess what one might find in a guest room that would be so upsetting, not much of anything happens on starships in proximal space. She shook her head,
“At least not be in the same room with it.”
Patrick took her to the highest point of the tower, many levels above Alice’s stateroom where the officer’s observation platform opened out, affording a spectacular view of the ship. The entire area was equipped for comfort and relaxation. Once there, he showed her to a private area, away from the few other officers socialising and enjoying coffee.
“Tell me what happened.”
�
��I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you, Patrick.” She still felt too breathless and anxious to worry if she sounded gushing.
“I’m glad I can be of help. What upset you?”
“I told you last night I’m not good with computers, but that didn’t stop me fiddling with the registry in my room. It’s different to the ones on the station but I worked out how to use it.”
“And that was frightening…?”
“Not really,” she shook her head. “I felt quite proud of myself. At my age, computers are…” trailing off to study his young face. She might need to keep that information to herself for now. It would be nonsense to him.
“I didn’t understand many of the big, scientific words I heard on Saturn Station, but Dr Grossmith placed a chip here—” she showed him the blue dot on her arm “—to help me learn.”
“Eduction chip,” he’d seen them before, even had one himself once.
“Yes, so I asked the computer a word I remembered from my conversations with him, to learn more. I’ve heard this word a few times, but I didn’t know its significance. I’m sure it will be clear to you why I thought of it.”
“What was the word?”
“Sarcophagus.”
Her anxiety was making sense to him now.
“And the registry showed you a sarcophagus or…something more…personal and disturbing?”
“It showed the cave where I was found. There were images, distant images as though the pictures were taken from a doorway. I couldn’t see too much at first but then the last image went really close, looking from above. I saw myself inside and it felt as if I was staring at myself in a coffin.” She thought about the image and shuddered. “Patrick, I was viewing my own grave—looking into my sarcophagus.”
She began to tremble. How had she ended up in that terrible place, in a glass coffin? Dr Grossmith had described it but she never believed it, now, she’d seen it for herself. Whether it was Alice Watkins or Alexis Langley who had awakened, she didn’t know, but wasn’t it impossible to be both?
Patrick would have responded to her trembling by holding her, had they been in a less public place, instead, he sat as close to her as protocols allowed and Alice was grateful for his nearness.
In a while, with Alice settling and needing to return to his duties, Patrick offered to fetch Educator Sebel to look after her.
“Thank you, Patrick. She’s coming to collect me for lunch. I think I’ll be fine now.”
Only agreeing to leave her if she wouldn’t be alone, Patrick walked with her to her stateroom and instructed her not to go to that segment of the registry again, suggesting instead researching her family tree might be less stressful and may even prompt a few happier memories. He cautioned her not to do it alone.
“Let Educator Sebel help. There are safeguards in place to protect confidentiality, so you only get general information. When you have your own registry, you can search anything you wish.”
“Thank you, Patrick,” she said, then remembered he was outside her stateroom when she bumped into him. “I didn’t ask you why you came to see me earlier.”
“I forgot! Do you like music?”
“I—I’m not sure,” she thought of the Saturday morning radio program she used to listen to while she did her housework, the only time she listened to music at home. “I don’t know anything about music.”
“Well, you are in for a treat. Tonight, we are having an assembly for senior staff, after which, we are to have a soiree. Principal Ryan plays the oboe, you know.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Well, he does. He plays at the concerts because he has no choice, but he doesn’t consider himself a performer. I hoped you’d come with me.”
“I would love to, Patrick, but you must forgive my ignorance. I’ve never been to a concert.”
“Light entertainment is just what you need after your upset.”
He saw her inside the portal before bowing and smiling that wonderful smile. He was popping up just when she needed him, but she didn’t mind, didn’t mind one bit. What a wonderful new experience, to have friends.
Amelia had spied them together as she came to collect Alice for lunch and quickly scurried back to the crew quarters to wait until she was sure it would be safe to return. She refused to eat any lunch until Alice told her the juicy details of her unplanned meeting with the devilishly handsome Statesman Patrick.
“Nothing juicy, Amelia. He came to ask me to a concert this evening, but I had an upset and he took me to the observation deck then sat with me till I settled down. He walked with me back to my room.”
“What upset you?” Amelia changed seats to sit close to Alice, putting her arm around her shoulders, her beautiful face creasing into a frown and forgetting all about Statesman Patrick.
Alice related the story of the chamber, unable to say the ‘s’ word again and struggling to hold back tears. Amelia squeezed her hand to reassure her throughout the retelling and felt bad for leaving her friend alone this morning. She doubted she was a substitute for Statesman Patrick, but happy he turned up when he did.
“Amelia, what does colloq. mean? The registry said, ‘The Sleeping Beauty Phenomenon’ (colloq).” Alice couldn’t remember all the words listed.
“It means colloquialism. The project had another name, a scientific title, the name escapes me, but Sleeping Beauty was coined when Dr Grossmith likened you to the fairy tale, appropriate seeing how you turned out.”
Amelia lied about not knowing the name of the project, but the title involved impersonal terms such as specimen, biological material, properties. Cold, unfriendly terms she would never apply to a warm and sweet individual like Alice.
“Patrick suggested we find my ancestors.”
“We’ll do it after lunch. It’s a lot of fun, though records as far back as you will be sparse, I imagine.”
“What if we don’t find anyone? I don’t even know who I really am.”
“Maybe it will give you a nudge.”
Back in Alice’s room, Amelia woke up the registry, but Alice sat on the bed, unwilling to look in case she saw an image that would upset her.
Amelia turned to her. “Give me a name.”
“Robert Redford.”
Amelia repeated the name and a grainy image appeared.
“Wow! Is he your ancestor? He’s gorgeous!”
“No, he’s a celebrity,” she grinned at Amelia’s look of surprise.
“A celebrity? Not many of those around, so why did you say his name?”
“Because it frightens me to see Alexis Langley, and it frightens me to see Alice Watkins. If she even exists.”
“Do you want me to stop?”
Alice wavered. “I’m not sure.”
“Ok, let’s try Alexis Langley, 2123.”
The registry responded immediately.
Alexis Langley would have been 25 then. From where she sat, Alice saw the image appear. Amelia moved aside and invited Alice to get a better look.
“Here you are.”
Curiosity moved Alice from the bed. The woman on the registry was younger than she, her hair shorter and she wore a blue check blouse with a sweater tied over her shoulders. She was clad in white slacks and sandals.
The blue sky hinted of summer and the woman, standing on old, worn steps, smiled downwards towards the camera. She seemed happy.
“Why didn’t Dr Grossmith show me this?”
“He showed you your reflection in the image definer, didn’t he?”
Alice was silent.
“It was this person…?”
Alice’s expression was answer enough.
“You?” Amelia pointed out gently.
Alice took stock of the young red-headed woman. It was her or at least, someone who looked the same as she did now.
“Ask about Martin Watkins.”
Amelia obliged. “Martin Watkins.”
And another image appeared. An older man, around 50 Alice guessed, an older version of Steven.
<
br /> “He looks like my son.”
Amelia grimaced and made a flicking movement at the registry to put it to sleep.
“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.”
Alice disagreed.
“For a moment, Amelia, I thought I might piece things together. It’s gone now but…I’m glad we did this.”
As usual, Alice wanted to nap in the afternoon. Amelia promised to catch up for breakfast next morning to hear the news from the concert and offering to return if Alice needed help with make-up.
Alone in her stateroom, Alice sifted through the events of the day and even though she felt sleepy, her nanna nap evaded her. Her gaze kept wandering to the registry. Inside lay images of people from her past, Alexis Langley’s past and possibly, even people who knew Alice Watkins, but all of them, Alice’s and Alexis’s family, would be long gone now. She no longer wanted the registry in here, a machine that contained pictures of dead people and worse, the image of her glass coffin.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Alice wanted to dress nicely for the concert but only owning dull grey shifts and slacks made her envy the deep maroon of Amelia’s uniform even more. She longed for the day when she could have more variety in her wardrobe, a lack that never bothered her in her other life. Amelia had her off-duty clothes with her but being more endowed in the bosom area than Alice, her clothes weren’t of any help, only offering a few accessories and a small jacket for Alice to use. She’d borrowed one or two pieces of jewellery from Amelia but, never having developed fashion sense, took a chance on what might look nice, deciding on green earrings and a green necklace and leaving off the gold belt. Although she feared she might overdo the makeup, she applied it sparingly as Amelia had shown her and the subtle results were rather pleasing.
It was only after dressing she noticed the green shift Kelly gave her back on Saturn Station. Green would look nicer than grey. In a second, Alice pulled off the grey shift and replaced it with the green. It was just as plain as the others but with the gold belt and hemline just above her knee; it was a definite improvement. In a moment of uncharacteristic daring, she discarded the slacks, leaving her legs bare and slipped into Amelia’s gold sandals, making a dramatic statement to an ordinary outfit.
The Afterlife of Alice Watkins 1 Page 18