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The Afterlife of Alice Watkins 1

Page 24

by Matilda Scotney


  “Scientific papers sound awful. And please, call me Alice. Dr Grossmith, on Saturn Station, describes my awakening as a miracle, but after seeing images on the registry, I’m a little afraid of being famous.”

  “You are already immortalised…Alice. I’m not sure you should be telling me this, either.”

  “You’re the first person I’ve spoken to who didn’t have any idea who I was when I met them, apart from the principal of the ship and his officers and then I believe he was told before I left Saturn Station—so I suppose that doesn’t count,” Alice shook her head. “I’m not clever enough to invent a history. Everyone I’ve had any proper conversation with so far has known my origins. So, if people ask me about myself, I don’t have anything else to tell them but the truth.”

  “It must be so strange.”

  Alice agreed. “Stranger than fiction. I don’t believe it myself most of the time.”

  Sarah sat for a moment longer, pondering the revelation, and Alice wondered if she should have made up a story, but with no background, what else was there to offer but the truth? Sarah had asked her and as she would be living here in this world, she might have to get used to other people asking the same question. She couldn’t hide forever, even if her story did seem far-fetched. She may need to declassify herself and hope people accept her.

  Sarah got up and put her hand on Alice’s shoulder.

  “Well, it’s surprising news but I also believe it’s yours to give out as you see fit. I’ll keep it as a confidence. Now, get dressed and put some of this on,” she handed Alice a delicate bottle. “I’ll take you down to Principal Katya. She is a dear, but doesn’t like to be kept waiting, particularly for her lunch.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  On board the Significator, Statesman Patrick peeled off his overalls and stood in the shower. He closed his eyes. It had only been a few hours since Alice left, and he wondered what she thought of the sharp-witted and deeply intuitive Principal Katya, a woman for whom he had immeasurable respect.

  In his room, the bed beckoned. He’d been on duty for 24 hours and now he was tired, and his body ached. The preparation for the Gravidarum and portage cylinders’ modifications was going well but poring over the initial specifications made his head hurt, every so often he found his attention wandering to the moment he said goodbye to Alice, not exactly the lapse of professionalism young Tyro Drake needed to witness from his superior officer. Patrick pushed the thought away, it was done, no point in overthinking it now. He sighed, rubbed his eyes, pulled on the first shirt and slacks he found and, after one more longing look at the bed, decided he needed food first.

  Statesman Hennessey was seated alone at a table in the officer’s dining hall, picking at his meal and reading from his portable registry. Patrick seated himself opposite. They offered each other the usual, single name greeting common among senior personnel.

  “Hennessey.”

  “Patrick.”

  “When are you going to the surface?” Hennessey closed the registry to give his full attention to his colleague. “That all-nighter ensured you’re on schedule, so Ryan could spare you. He’s been on the bridge since last night; the way he behaves anyone would think you’re leaving for your next mission next week.”

  “I need another all-nighter to finish, so I’m back on duty in eight hours. I’ll go to the surface in a couple of days. Ryan needs to visit his family at some point as well. His father is ill, I hear. When do you leave for Earth?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “You don’t seem very happy. I thought you’d be relieved.”

  “I am happy, Patrick, about going home, but leaving here? Well, mixed emotions I suppose. Junnot is definitely coming back?”

  “Her linguistics are pretty good. What’s the problem?”

  “Mine are better. It’s going to be hard to be based on Earth again.”

  “You married into an Earth-based profession. You knew the rules.”

  The conversation gave Patrick an idea, and he signalled to Hennessey to hand over his portable registry. Hennessey obliged without a word, knowing Patrick had a habit of changing tack mid-conversation if the fancy took him.

  “Tabernacle,” Patrick added his signature to the link. “Statesman Patrick, message to Principal Katya.”

  Sarah showed Alice to a spacious patio area in the garden where groups of people, statesmen and other dignitaries, sat at tables, eating and conversing while others, seated alone with portable registries, were enjoying the sunshine. Principal Katya was alone and gave Alice a delighted smile as soon as she caught sight of her.

  “Alice, you have had a long soak, I think. Feel better?”

  “Yes, thank you, Principal Katya, I loved it and Sarah is so attentive. I’m being treated like royalty!”

  “Good, good. I hear too, from my nephew, that Statesman Patrick took you under his wing on the Significator.”

  “Yes, he did, Principal Katya, he helped me a lot.”

  “Patrick is a good man, an eye for the ladies, though. A veritable trail of broken hearts across the galaxy!”

  Principal Katya chuckled at her choice of words, an innocent enough remark but one which gave Alice pause. She wouldn’t be one in a long line of broken hearts, and it surprised her to learn such a thing about Patrick, but really, she shouldn’t, Statesman Patrick was the best-looking man in the universe.

  “Patrick comes here the day after tomorrow. He sent word a few minutes ago, to say he is arriving that morning and would see you. I have told him you are on vacation and will accept a visit only if it pleases you to do so.”

  “I’d like that, Principal Katya. I consider him a good friend.”

  “Then he will be admitted.” She sounded stern but, as Alice soon learned, the twinkling in her eyes meant her tone might seem steely, but her words were only meant in fun.

  Principal Katya chatted pleasantly throughout lunch, on topics ranging from the gardens to the history of the area and allowing Alice to ask one or two questions about the Tabernacle and even about Principal Katya herself.

  “That, my child, is the briefest of stories. I chose agriculture as a profession, the same as all my family, from generations back, apart from my sister who elected to enter the sciences. My nephew, her son, followed her, but his study took him to the stars.” She stopped, and Alice wondered if her question was too personal, but Principal Katya sat herself up tall in her chair, contemplating how she should continue, it wasn’t a story she often repeated but this young girl had much to learn about society, her own story was as good a place as any to start.

  “One day, 40 years ago or thereabouts, I was working in Principality 12, while there I developed a wasting disease in my leg. The disease was cured, but the experience changed not only my height, but my ability to carry out the manual work on the land that I loved and…I was alone—no, Alice, don’t you dare look so sad,” she laughed and took Alice’s hand. “I had no husband, no child. I didn’t want to twiddle my thumbs, as they say, so I came here, put my bags on the doorstep and said I would not leave until they gave me work to do!”

  “And they made you Principal of the World?”

  “Not straight away, my dear girl, but I was admitted to the council, in the capacity of Statesman here at the Tabernacle before being reassigned back to Principality 12 a few years later, to preside as the principal. When Principal Hallam, my predecessor, died, the council recalled me. I have been principal for 20 years and I will stay principal until I drop to the floor at the feet of my councilmen!” Possessed of such an impish and mischievous smile, Alice found it difficult to believe this friendly, funny lady was related to the dour Principal Ryan.

  “If each country, principality, has a principal,” Alice asked. “What do you do here?”

  “We govern reproduction, removal to the Calamities, marriage applications, regulate space travel and myriad other issues to make the world beautiful and safe and of course, to keep our minds and bodies healthy and us old people busy!”<
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  She was remarkable, wise and intelligent and funny. Alice compared Principal Katya’s vitality and enthusiasm to her own previous existence, to her own advancing years. The old Alice possessed none of her qualities.

  “What are you looking at, my dear?”

  In her reverie, Alice had been staring at Principal Katya’s snow-white hair, remembering her own blue rinse, which she thought so smart.

  “I’m sorry, Principal Katya,” she apologised. “I didn’t mean to stare but you have such lovely white hair, I always—I mean, in my time, some ladies liked to rinse blue through the hair, it was considered stylish.”

  Alice knew blue rinses were very unfashionable, but she had loved hers.

  “Blue hair?” Principal Katya’s face lit up with interest.

  “Not very blue,” Alice hastened to explain, “not like the sky, only a hint, yours would be lovely.”

  “I must try this blue. Steward!”

  Within seconds the steward was at their side.

  “Let Miss Ling know I wish to see her. Here.” Principal Katya pointed at the table then winked at the steward. “Let her know we are going to experiment and have some fun!”

  He left with a bow and a large grin.

  “Now, what other curious and remarkable pastimes from your time do we need to learn?” she clasped her elegant hands in front of her on the table, waiting for Alice to offer up the mysteries of her life. A life she knew Principal Katya believed existed only in her imagination.

  “Well, I can’t remember too much that was exciting,” she confessed, but in a moment of inspiration, told Principal Katya about the television soap operas, taking care not to refer to her own experiences but to say, ‘they’ and ‘some people,’ thus avoiding speculation about herself. She mentioned knitting and crochet and Principal Katya demanded further information on ‘this crochet’. Alice found it a challenge to explain as Principal Katya had no concept of yarn. She continued the struggle until Miss Ling arrived, tall and elegant, with expertly applied makeup and perfectly manicured nails, intrigued by the ‘experiment’ alluded to by the steward.

  Principal Katya introduced Alice and told Miss Ling the story of white-haired ladies who rinsed their hair blue. She wished to try this, and could it be done? Miss Ling frowned here and there at places during Alice’s explanation.

  “Yes, Principal Katya,” she said, thinking inwardly how like Principal Katya, to try something so outlandish, but she obediently reached for her portable registry. “We will need to use a few pigments. Just a moment.”

  Moving her slender fingers across the screen, Miss Ling selected different hues of blue and played with them until she saw one which might suit, then set it against the registry’s likeness of Principal Katya’s hair. The result was anything but subtle. Both women looked at Alice for her approval but the colour was ghastly.

  “It’s too dark,” came her tactful response, hoping not to offend Miss Ling. “The intention is to highlight the hair, brighten it, not change the colour to a definite blue. Can you make it less intense, Miss Ling, perhaps take this pigment out, fade it a little?”

  She offered Alice the portable registry, and although it was a device she had never used, she shaped the colour palette with confidence, playing it against the white and resulting in a colour Alice considered as close to desirable as possible. She handed the screen back to Miss Ling, wondering for an instant how the registry came to be in her hands in the first place, but she had an idea how the blue rinse might look on Principal Katya, the way Alice’s own blue rinse looked before she became a carrot head.

  Principal Katya, eager to try the hair colour, was already out of her seat, beckoning to Alice and Miss Ling to follow. Miss Ling whispered to Alice.

  “Principal Katya loves to try new things and meet new people. She has been so looking forward to your arrival and will want to try everything you do that she has never tried.”

  “I am not deaf, you girls,” Principal Katya called over her shoulder. “I can hear you chattering behind my back as if I were an old lady to be humoured!”

  They followed Principal Katya through the great hall to Miss Ling’s salon, a surprise to Alice such a place existed within such a grand and hallowed place. There were no hairdryers, no basins, no mirrors around the wall and in many ways, not unlike the room she first remembered on waking, sparse and functional with minimal furnishings. The walls were curved opaque glass and had a proper door through which to enter and exit. There was a single large chair in which Principal Katya sat, like a monarch on her throne.

  Miss Ling applied the pigment by reproducing the colour from the registry into a small cylinder and brushing the device through Principal Katya’s hair. As she did, she twirled the hair around the cylinder to form soft curls and as Alice watched, a blue highlight appeared. Miss Ling showed Principal Katya her reflection in an image definer, but Alice still considered it just a shade too blue.

  Not so Principal Katya, who turned to Alice with unconcealed delight.

  “Alice, this is splendid! I will always have this now. I am renewed. And now, I wish to crochet.”

  “Well, to crochet, we need yarn and hooks, Principal Katya.” Alice had only been here a few hours, but she was worn out! Principal Katya had the energy of a teenager and would take a lot of keeping up with!

  Principal Katya petitioned Miss Ling for advice.

  “Do you know where we can obtain this yarn and hooks?”

  “What is the expected outcome of the exercise, Principal Katya?”

  Alice was the only one able to answer this question, and both women looked to her. Outcome? Alice didn’t use the word ‘outcome’ in crochet unless you considered finishing a project, a shawl or a baby jacket an ‘outcome’.

  “A blanket might be an easy place to start.” In the absence of patterns, a blanket would be the best guarantee of an ‘outcome’

  “A blanket. As in a cover? Like a blanket of snow?” Principal Katya loved the idea.

  “Yes, but more of a blanket to put over your knees or lay across your bed to make it pretty. We start by crocheting squares then joining them together.”

  Miss Ling understood. “I suggest you try the tailor, Principal Katya. Fabrics are his area of expertise, perhaps he will understand yarn.”

  “Indeed, the tailor. Alice, you will go to the city today after all!”

  A short time later, Alice found herself out the front of the Tabernacle with Principal Katya, awaiting the arrival of the shuttle.

  Principal Katya laughed.

  “Here I am, directing things,” she prodded Alice gently in the arm. “You should have reminded me, this is your vacation. I confess I get tremendously excited about new things.”

  “Please don’t worry, Principal Katya, I’m happy to go. Remember, I’m new here and the city will be an experience.”

  “Then we are both happy. Here is the transport.”

  The pilot helped Principal Katya into her seat but apart from a bow of acknowledgement, left Alice to seat herself. She was young now, younger even than he, and of course, he wouldn’t have considered her in need of assistance.

  “Fly low, please, Pilot.” Principal Katya instructed. “Our guest can see the countryside. It is a beautiful time of year, Alice, Spring has only just begun.”

  Yes, Alice thought, beautiful. Breathtakingly so. Below her, homesteads nestled in lush green gardens the size of smallholdings. Cows and horses grazed undisturbed and from a few of the dwellings, dogs ran and barked as the shuttle flew above their gardens. But never, anywhere, not even in a magazine at the hairdressers had she seen such an edifice as large and impressive as the City.

  Built into the side of a mountain, the structure rose in sheer proportions from the ground, reaching up and onwards almost as far as Alice could see. The city extended out by more than 5 kilometres with a side central level supported by a single, slender stem.

  “The habitation area and infirmary,” Principal Katya pointed out. “Over there, we
have the Merchants; Providores, pasticiums, dining halls, purveyors, tailors, all those who keep our bellies full and clothes on our backs.” She smiled at Alice, evidently a popular and oft-visited destination for Principal Katya.

  “Below,” she pointed out the lower sections, further into the rock, “is the Industrial Sector, housing small item manufacturing workshops and high above, closer to the clouds, are the entertainment areas and theatres.”

  Alice was lost for words at the enormity of the place. Like the principality ship, it resembled a small country rather than a man-made structure and Principal Katya astounded her further by telling her Principality One had not just one, but three cities, this being the largest. Alice tried to pay attention to Principal Katya’s narrative but was too overawed. The city was staggering in its size. A colossus. Above the city, the top of the mountain rose high, like a crown atop a regal head and where the city was in part formed from the rock and in part built against it, the mountain curved around like a protective shell.

  The Merchant sector resembled a Christmas tree ablaze with lights while the lower sections were less visible. The habitat and infirmary arm glistened with clusters of lit areas. The pilot brought the shuttle down to the lower level and came about to present Alice with a panoramic view from all directions. At the base of the stem, many large shuttles, with markings different to the Tabernacle shuttles, took off and landed.

  “Those belong to the city,” Principal Katya explained. “Anyone can use them to order.”

  After allowing Alice ample opportunity to be awestruck, the pilot took the shuttle to one of the upper levels, landing on a small platform on the widest part of the city, outside the Merchant area. She could only guess at what the pilot thought of her astonishment, or even if he knew seeing this was a first for her.

  Alice climbed from the shuttle onto the landing pad, at a startling height. Normally afraid of anything above the first rung of a stepladder, Alice felt no fear, merely turned to aid Principal Katya, as though standing this distance above the ground, with a rippling forcefield below, was an everyday occurrence.

 

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