This time, when they reached the portal, he released the portal control without asking and stepped through with her. Once inside, he pulled her close. She heard his heart beating as her head rested on his chest. She had expected this and feared it.
Placing his hands on her shoulders, he set her back from him and ever so gently, cupped her face in his hands before lightly placing his mouth against hers. As their lips touched, she resisted an old inbred urge to pull away, instead, she kept her face still, breathing in the scent of him, trying to concentrate on the sensation of his tongue touching the inside of her top lip.
He kissed her eyelids and the tip of her nose then placed his hand behind her head and held her again to his chest. He smelled wonderful, nothing like Ted’s tobacco and sweat stench. She curled her arms around his back and leaned against him, wishing she knew how to respond. Was this how it should be? To be held in the arms of the kindest, the sweetest man she had ever met?
“I’m sorry if I don’t get to see you before you leave,” he murmured gently, lifting her face and stroking her cheek and looking deep into her eyes. “I’ll be on duty from now on, but you can contact me if you need. I hope that’s ok.”
Not ok she thought but smiled anyway, no point in making it difficult. She didn’t own him. He released her and kissed her gently once more before he left.
Patrick headed straight to the bridge. Principal Ryan, engaged in dialogue with the bridge crew and communication engineers, acknowledged him without even a glance.
“Patrick.”
“Ryan,” Patrick replied, not bothering to look over to see if whatever they were deliberating on required his involvement, instead, he gazed out the forward viewport.
After a moment, Ryan joined him, interrupting Patrick’s thoughts of Alice.
“I hate those bloody concerts,” Principal Ryan ran his hands through his hair. “I swear they are becoming duller. I’m leaving my oboe at home next time.”
“You implemented them, Ryan, you only have yourself to blame. Besides, it wasn’t dull.”
“It was the same program we did a month ago, Patrick.”
“I didn’t mean the music, Ryan. Alice was so taken with it, she was a pleasure to watch. Interestingly, she said she knew nothing about music, but I believe she does. She thought you played beautifully.”
“In that case, she’s right, she doesn’t know anything about music. I’m mediocre at best. Why do you call her Alice?”
“You are too modest, Ryan, besides, it was the first time she’d heard one of our concerts. She asked me to call her Alice.”
“Keep it professional, Patrick,” Ryan had nothing else to say on the Dr Langley subject. “We need to modify the senior staff concerts for the next trip if we are to continue using them as entertainment for the crew. At least we won’t have to have those goddamn awful assemblies while we’re away.”
“Shall I make sure any new crew members play something other than violins?” Patrick suggested, even though musicality was not criteria for service on a principality ship.
“Agreed,” Ryan turned to leave. “Now I’m off to get some exorcise.”
“Exorcise, Ryan? Don’t you mean exercise.” Ryan was a midnight gym junkie.
“I’ve been playing host to those environmentalists for the past year. Call it whatever you like.”
Patrick watched him leave. Rare for Ryan to make a funny.
Back in her quarters, Alice took off her earrings and looked at herself in the image definer. There were changes all the time, in her hair, her skin and tonight, her eyes. She liked her eyes, liked the green, her old ones were hazel and dull, but these eyes were wide and alive. She thought how it felt to be in Patrick’s arms, his kiss and the light touch of his tongue over the inside of her lip. Ted seldom kissed her and when he did, she always shrank away, something she knew she almost did this evening. Habit, she supposed, her mother’s warnings of triggering hormones must still be having an effect, but Ted’s kisses disgusted and terrified her, knowing what would follow and naturally, she thought all kisses would be like Ted’s.
But Patrick’s kiss wasn’t disgusting, his kiss was sweet and light and gentle. So why, oh why, didn’t she feel anything? Was she so old now, there was no possibility of any hormones being triggered?
The link sounded. It was Amelia.
“Well?”
“Well, nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“He kissed me, that’s all.” Alice wanted to play down the situation until she sorted out her own feelings about it.
“You have all the luck!”
“It was just a kiss. What did you do?”
“I spent the evening in the dining hall with a couple of off-duty stewards. They were both educators before they retired, so we had a lot in common.”
“How does that work? Why aren’t they educators still instead of stewards? Seems a backwards step.”
“Ask me in the morning. I’ll be there bright and early.”
As the screen flicked off, Alice stood in a daydream. What a day. She needed sleep but first, a shower. Standing in the gel flow, she let her mind wander to the concert, humming a few of the tunes, then she stopped. Alice Watkins didn’t hum, she whistled a little, but she didn’t hum. Stepping out of the washer, she leaned close to the image definer, pursing her lips, she blew. Nothing. Alexis Langley’s lips did not whistle.
But she remembered that one tune, the one played with all that noisy energy. What was it, pomp om pom…? Alice tried to conjure up the sounds. She woke up the registry. It was already listening.
Pom pom pomp om. She hummed a few bars and the music to Pizzicato Polka floated into view; the registry then sounded out a piano rendition.
Satisfied, she walked over to the bed, pulled the green shift over her head and, without waiting to put on her beloved knickers, stepped barefoot through the portal.
The auditorium on the officer’s deck was in darkness, the sensor lights lit her way as she descended towards the podium and the bright downlight appeared when she stepped onto the stage, bathing the piano in a golden glow. A grand piano. Alice circled it, reverent, it had been years since she had played a grand, she ran her fingers lightly over its contours before reaching the curve of the well where she stopped and lifted the lid. Small points of light sparkled where she expected to see hammers and felts but no matter, she called gently,
“Eeh Aaw,” then smiled as the piano made a soft echo in reply. She made her way slowly around to the keyboard and sat down.
The keys were the same as any piano, so she pressed one or two, just to test the tone and tried to remember the noisy melody. She played a few more keys as a hologram appeared at eye level. The Pizzicato Polka. She peered at the music, struggling to transpose the notes to the keyboard. The result was a cacophony.
“Five and five, Alexis. Remember, five times right hand, five times left hand. You are trying to train your brain to at least have some idea of where your fingers need to go. Then put them together. Try again.”-Miss Rowan, Piano Teacher of Alexis Langley, aged 10.
So, five times she tried the polka with her right hand, then five times with the left, as she had been taught all those years ago, then put them together. This time, it made sense, but it was difficult to get her fingers moving. Her joints seemed stiff and rusty.
There was a piece she liked, what was it called? She had a hazy recollection; how did it go? Ah! She pom pom pommed at the piano and the music appeared. To A Wild Rose. Yes, that’s it. She didn’t rush this time. Five times on the right hand and then five on the left and from somewhere, long buried, surged forth all she needed to play this much-loved piece she knew so well, it was Uncle Martin’s favourite and the notes returned to her so easily, she barely even had to look up at the music that appeared as a hologram above the piano.
Absorbed as she was in her playing, Alice didn’t notice the figure standing at the top of the steps. He’d heard the music as he passed by and wondered why Councilman Ellis had
stayed so late. Entering the auditorium, he quickly recognised his error but stood for a moment before taking the nearest seat, careful not to disturb or distract her. He pulled his left ankle up comfortably onto his right knee, placed his left hand over his calf and leaned his elbow on the side of the seat, resting his face against the back of his other hand. And he listened.
Alice was oblivious to her audience. The piano registry gave her a few more suggestions as she pom pommed her way through but she was keen to try the polka again and this time, her hands flew more surely and although she hadn’t touched a piano in centuries, she brought more animation and joy to the piece than Councilman Ellis had done with weeks of practise. A fact not lost on her lone spectator. She sat back, satisfied, and folded her hands in her lap.
As the last few notes of the polka died away, he stood to leave, not needing her to learn he’d been listening to her performance. It would seem, rather than her knowing little of music, she knew a great deal, but he hesitated, she only had access to these decks in the company of a senior officer, protocol demanded he should remind her, even if she was doing no harm. After a moment’s deliberation, he walked down the steps towards the podium. Of course, he could speak to her. He was Principal of this ship.
“Well played.”
Alice spun around, her face contorting in surprise and her eyes widening in recognition. She shrunk away, her back against the piano, grateful for its support to stop her sliding to the floor in embarrassment.
“Principal Ryan!”
Seeing him standing in front of her, Alice thought her heart would stop. “I am so sorry, I thought…” But Alice couldn’t think. Confusion set in and with it, the inability to fathom why she was here, in the auditorium, not wearing shoes or knickers? She felt weak.
He stepped forward to steady her, but she clung to the piano and only glanced down at his hands, reaching out, ready to catch her if she should fall. Alice had no intention of that happening. She slid her back around the well of the piano.
“I startled you, I’m sorry, Dr Langley, but there is no need to apologise,” he withdrew his offer of support and placed a hand on the piano, hoping a step back may calm her. “The piano is for everyone’s enjoyment. I’m surprised to find you here alone that’s all. Statesman Patrick told me you know nothing about music.”
Alice was too terrified to respond. Why was he saying these things? What was she doing here?
“I—I don’t remember.”
“You were playing the piano, Dr Langley.” Principal Ryan didn’t understand why she should be so frightened. Perhaps a compliment might help. “Most accomplished.”
Alice looked at the keys, gleaming in the light, then returned her horrified gaze back to Principal Ryan, her hands still gripping the piano behind her, wanting to run and wishing Patrick was here to protect her. She didn’t even know how she got here but she needed to calm herself. Principal Ryan had been so polite when she choked on the firewater roll, he would forgive her now. She took a deep breath.
“I’m not sure what I’m doing here, please excuse me, Principal Ryan, I would like to go to my room.”
He held out his arm again.
“You’re unsteady. Shall I escort you?”
She shook her head vigorously.
“No—no, thank you, I’m fine.”
But she wasn’t fine, and she backed away from him until she reached the steps, then turned and fled up the stairs.
Ryan watched her run up the steps, exiting through the foyer at the uppermost level, the sensor lights fading as she departed, but he didn’t move even after she was out of sight.
What the hell was all that?
But it wasn’t just the exchange that bewildered him. As he spoke to her, he’d suddenly become aware of how small and light she was, how her hair gleamed red and gold in the glow from the downlight, her eyes—incredibly green, fixed on him with fear. When he first entered the auditorium, it was her playing, not only her technique but the emotional depth which had attracted him, but now… He pressed a few keys as his thoughts dwelt upon her. Then, closing the piano lid, he turned smartly and strode back the way he came, leaving the auditorium in darkness.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Amelia sounded the portal buzzer early the next morning. Alice had only just dressed, not understanding why she felt half-asleep. Amelia had Tyro Drake in tow, laden with half a dozen bound volumes while she brought breakfast on a hovering trolley. It was easy enough to see Amelia had Tyro Drake twisted around her little finger because she pointed towards the table without a word and he deposited the volumes, looking up to see if she had another command. She shepherded him back through the portal.
“We’ll call you if we need you.”
Alice watched him leave.
“He seems smitten.”
Amelia agreed. “Yes, much like a pet. He is only 19 and still being educated. Too young for me but he likes to be useful. What do you think of these?” she held up a volume. “They’re transpositions of books from your time, I got them from the library. I thought we could see if they help your memory, but more importantly, I brought…Tah dah!”
“What are they?”
“Cream cheese bagels,” Amelia expected Alice to be over-the-moon with excitement, but instead, her expression was somewhat deflating.
“I don’t know what a bagel is, Amelia.”
“Didn’t they have them in your time?”
“Possibly, but I never had one. It looks like a bread roll.” Alice picked one up.
“Well, it is but also so much more. Bread roll diminishes it.”
“Why did you bring breakfast? We always go to the pasticium?”
“Because today we work, work, work and study, study, study. We’ve only got today together, and we need to cram a lot in. Hang on…”
Amelia investigated the washer and under the bed.
“What are you searching for?”
“Who, not what. Statesman Patrick. I’m just checking he actually went back to his own quarters last night.”
Strange, Alice thought, a little while ago she would have blushed and stammered at such a remark but now, she found it amusing.
“He’s not here. I promise you, he left me here alone last night.”
“You must need lessons in kissing, Alice,” Amelia said through a mouthful of bagel while taking a seat in front of the registry.
Alice sat beside her.
“You might be right,” she shrugged, “but I’ve only kissed one other man.”
Amelia’s jaw dropped in astonishment.
“One—Other—Man? Are you telling me the truth?”
Alice nodded. “Yes, as I remember it but, we can’t be sure, can we?”
“Shall I ask who?”
“Not if you won’t like the answer.”
“Someone from the past we don’t believe is yours?”
Alice turned down the corners of her mouth and nodded a yes.
As promised, it was a day for study. They pored over the books, even though Alice recognised almost nothing and uncovered little to jog any memories. Jointly declaring the exercise a failure, they consulted the registry, from where Amelia gave her a crash course in Earth’s social structure.
Alice learned most couples have one child, two at most and usually within a year or two of each other. Children attend day school from age five but stay with their parents until they turn 15. During that time, parents receive assignments befitting of their professions but both parents must be available to be with the children, that includes military couples, which are rare. At 15, the child leaves home and begins aptitudes.
The first two years are on Earth, with introductions to such areas as agriculture, education and medicine. Science subjects follow. Art and music are initially extracurricular but encouraged. The child spends the last year of aptitudes in space, a few months on a space station and a few on a starship. Few opt out of the space assignment.
“But it does happen that a child has no desire to
go into space,” Amelia explained, “and if their interests point in a different direction; the arts or music, for example, the Tabernacle will support their preference. Final year aptitudants, like Drake, will spend a year on a principality vessel like this one only if there is a strong interest in the military, coupled with distinguished achievements in their science studies. Assignment to principality ships will increase the length of aptitudes due to the nature of deep space assignments.”
She went on to say that when aptitudes finish, university begins. Graduation is at 22 for educators and some agriculturists. A science student doesn’t graduate until 25, and afterwards, spends a year as an intern. All science graduates must continue study in their preferred field with one additional option, for a further two years.
“We almost never stop learning, Alice. Educators must complete an upgrade block at year 5 from graduation if they want to teach older children. I can only teach five to nine-year-olds.”
“About my level! So, am I right, Amelia, if you are three years from graduation, you are 25?
“That’s right. Five years younger than you, so when you are old and ugly, I will still be young and beautiful!”
Alice pulled a face at her.
“So how do people end up as stewards? Not good at their jobs?”
Amelia told her no, not the case. Everyone may retire at 65 but some apply for continuation in their profession, and generally, that lasts for another five years, though they can reapply. At 65, if an individual wants a different path, their personal circumstances are evaluated, and their aptitude and desires given consideration.
“Don’t they mind being told to retire?”
“No, they love it. Those who do. They can do nothing if they wish. We have people, even ex-military, who make clothes, cook in dining halls and pasticiums, work in construction, breed animals, many who once worked on the ships as science officers or communications specialists, enjoy participation in, and are fulfilled by other, Earth-centred activities. And we have agriculturalists, educators and previously planet-based doctors working on starships. But after 65, even if you are continued or reassigned, you can stop whenever you choose.”
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