by Anthology
“Mother, I’m seventeen, not a child. And I’ve been invited to court to speak with the queen on Thursday afternoon. Surely you would not deprive me of such a triumph?”
Social standing won over familial safety, and Kate was allowed to remain in an increasingly turbulent London.
By Wednesday, the Royal Society astronomers confirmed that the celestial object was, indeed, on a trajectory toward London. They were no longer calling it a comet, however, as it was behaving in a rather perplexing—some might say frightening—manner. The astronomer’s calculations suggested that the object was under its own power, able to make course and speed adjustments.
Kate had to agree that they appeared to be correct, based on her own observations. In addition, the object grew closer every hour, until it was a looming brightness over the country. Speculation exploded, and apprehension turned to panic as soldiers began to filter into London. The queen exhorted her subjects to remain calm, and expressed her approval of those who chose to carry on with their daily lives.
Handbills were posted at every corner, bearing Queen Victoria’s profile and the words, “Nothing is certain, except that We will meet this Challenge with Fortitude, Grace, and the Might of God and Empire behind Us. Stay strong and true, Loyal Subjects, and fear not.”
Kate’s original euphoria at discovering the comet had curdled to an odd mix of pride and guilt. In a way, she felt responsible for whatever was about to happen.
If she had not first identified that speck in the sky, would it have changed its course? Had the act of observing its approach made its arrival inevitable? Was the Empire, perhaps the entire earth, doomed?
In a brave attempt at normalcy, the queen and prince continued to keep their court hours at Buckingham Palace. The Prime Minister and most of the peers still in London spent their time cloistered in Parliament, arguing over what course to pursue.
Thursday dawned bright, with the strange metallic light filtering over the city, and the Danville household made ready for Kate’s appearance at court.
“Must you tie my laces so tightly?” Kate asked the maid. “I can scarcely breathe.”
“Not every day you’re invited to the palace, Miss.” Still, the woman left off trying to constrict Kate’s lungs beyond bearing, and fetched the rose muslin day dress from the wardrobe.
An hour later, appropriately garbed and coiffed and bejeweled, Kate and her mother stepped into their carriage. The footman folded up the steps and closed the door, and the driver set out for the palace. Despite the well-sprung seats, every jolt over the cobblestones sent a jab through Kate. She tried to distract herself by looking out the window, but there was little to be seen. All the fine shops were closed up, and only a few dandies roamed the streets instead of the cream of Society going about their business. Most of the upper crust had departed London for their country estates.
“Will the looting spread this far?” Kate asked her mother.
“Of course not. The rabble knows better than to set foot in Mayfair.”
Despite the clipped assurance in Lady Danville’s tone, Kate could not help noticing that her mother’s gloved fingers were laced tightly together in her lap.
“Do you think Parliament has come up with a plan?”
Lady Danville sniffed. “According to your father, nothing but dithering is being accomplished. At least there are plenty of soldiers about. Don’t fret, darling. Everything shall turn out for the best. I have utmost faith in the queen.”
Kate was not convinced the queen could, by pure force of royal will, keep a meteor from smashing London to smithereens. Yet what else could they do but persevere?
The approach to Buckingham Palace was crowded with people. Some were shouting for the queen and God to save them, some were exhorting the throng to rush the gates, while others held signs proclaiming the world’s imminent destruction. Overhead, the bright sphere in the sky appeared to be growing larger.
With the aid of a dozen red-coated soldiers, the carriage managed to push past the press of bodies and through the well-guarded iron gates of the palace. Behind them, Kate heard the crowd murmuring like a restless creature ready to leap from its kennel.
A shout and the crack of a gunshot made both Kate and her mother jump. Kate’s heartbeat thudded in her chest, and Lady Danville pushed open the window.
“What is happening?” she demanded, her voice shrill.
A soldier jumped up, catching the side of the carriage, and the vehicle rocked slightly from his weight.
“Rest easy, ladies,” he said. “The rabble tried to rush forward, but so far shots fired into the air are keeping them back. We’ll have you to the door in a trice.”
Lady Danville nodded at him, then patted nervously at her hair. The gates shut behind them with a clang that Kate did not find as reassuring as she ought.
Their driver pulled the carriage up before the arched entry, and the footman handed Lady Danville and Kate out. Guards stood impassively on either side of the doors, ignoring the strange light overhead and the cries of the crowd.
A liveried servant waiting before the entryway glanced at the crest on their carriage, then bowed to Kate’s mother.
“Lady Danville, Miss Danville, you are expected. Please, follow me.”
He led them into the palace, past the grand sweeping double staircase and down a high-ceilinged hall lined with paintings and the marble busts of former rulers. The air smelled of flowers and lemon polish, with an undertone of must.
Kate lifted her chin and resolved to remain calm. Although her mother thought the queen only wanted to congratulate her on her discovery, Kate feared an interrogation lay ahead.
The servant ushered them through a set of tall doors and into an immense room decorated in scarlet and white. The numerous soldiers scattered about the hall looked as though they had been placed there for decoration, in their matching red and white. The ceiling overhead was ornately patterned, but the most imposing sight was at the far end, where Queen Victoria sat upon an elaborately carved and gilt-covered throne.
A crown set with rubies adorned her brown hair, and her large, dark eyes surveyed the hall from above her thin nose and rounded cheeks. At her side sat Prince Albert, dressed in a military uniform. He was slighter than Kate had anticipated—or perhaps he was simply dwarfed by the queen’s voluminous indigo skirts and penetrating gaze.
The room was filled with nobility: lords looking somber and consulting their pocket watches, ladies whose laughter sounded a bit too forced, a handful of young bucks who turned and watched the Danville ladies enter with over-bright eyes.
And a cluster of Royal Society astronomers, including Lord Wrottesley and the contemptible Viscount Huffton. Kate deliberately glared at the man, hoping the viscount would feel the burn of her stare, unmannered though it might be.
“Wait here,” the servant said, leading Kate and her mother to the side of the room. “The steward will fetch you when the queen is ready.”
“Very good,” Lady Danville said, then turned to her daughter. “Kate, you must remember to smile. And don’t, I pray, speak overmuch. The queen has far more important matters to attend to than listening to you drone on about telescopes.”
Kate swallowed past the dryness in her throat.
“Yes, mother,” she said.
In truth, she could not offer the queen any better insight than the astronomers. Despite watching the approaching object every night, she had gleaned no particular truths or insights from it—other than it appeared to be headed on a direct trajectory toward London, and approaching rapidly.
An officious-looking fellow wearing the palace livery and an ornate medallion about his neck, strutted up to them.
“Miss Danville, the queen will speak with you now.”
Kate smoothed the pink flounces on her skirt and tried to calm her sudden surge of nerves.
“Well, come along,” her mother said. “We mustn’t keep her majesty waiting.”
The steward turned a cold eye on Lady Danv
ille. “You may remain here, madam. The queen wishes to converse with your daughter, not you.”
Lady Danville’s mouth hung open for a moment. She snapped it shut, a flush creeping up from her neck.
“Very well,” she said with a sniff. “Kate, pray endeavor not to embarrass the family name.”
There was really no response Kate could make to that. She gave her mother a tight smile, then let the steward usher her through the room. Whispers followed in their wake, a buzz of gossip hovering like gnats about her head. As they passed the knot of astronomers, Lord Wrottesley gave her an encouraging nod, while Viscount Huffton looked bitter.
“Miss Kate Danville,” the steward announced when they were before the thrones.
Kate bowed her head and dipped into her best curtsey, her heart pounding so loudly she feared the queen could hear it.
“Rise,” Queen Victoria said, beckoning her to approach. “Welcome to court, Miss Danville. I understand you were the first to spot the object now approaching London.?”
“Yes, your majesty.” With force of will, Kate kept her fingers from knotting desperately together.
Prince Albert gave her a sharp look. “Indeed. Do tell us more. Do you have any idea what it is?”
“I’m simply an amateur astronomer, your highness. I don’t—”
“Your majesty!” A guard burst into the room and ran up to the thrones, halting a few paces away to make a breathless bow.
“Yes?” the queen asked, her tone unbelievably calm.
“The thing in the sky, it’s stopped. And, and…” He gulped for breath.
“Out with it, man,” the price snapped.
“Something has detatched from it, and is approaching through the sky.”
A buzz of speculation moved through the room, edged with panic. Kate bit her lip.
“Approaching through the sky, you say?” The queen rose, her skirts rustling. “Well then. We had best repair to the palace gardens to better view whatever is transpiring.”
“My dear.” The prince caught her arm. “Do you think it’s safe?”
Queen Victoria gave him a quelling look. “I am Queen of England, Princess of Hanover, Empress of India and supreme monarch of the British Empire. I shall not cower inside while great events unfold at my doorstep. And if we are all to perish, let it be said that we went forth to meet our fate bravely.”
“Of course.” Price Albert gave her a faint smile. “Lead on, my lady.”
The queen, the prince, and their guards swept forward. Half of the court went with them, including the astronomers, while the rest clearly did not want to risk setting foot outside the dubious safety of the palace.
Kate followed close behind, her pulse racing with fear and anticipation. Something was finally happening, and she, Miss Kate Danville, was about to witness a great event in history.
As they traversed the hallways and formal rooms of Buckingham Palace, Kate did not try to locate her mother in the throng. Lady Danville could hang safely back, or attempt to return home, but Kate resolved to remain as close to the center of events as possible.
Even though it might prove her doom.
Yet the fact that something was approaching—something smaller than the glowing sphere that filled the sky—suggested it was guided by intelligent entities. Perhaps it was simliar to a tender boat being launched out from a great galleon.
What a frightening thought! If that were the case, she could only hope these visitors from the stars were as benign and enlightened as the British explorers who landed upon heathen islands, bringing civilization and enlightenment to the poor natives on faraway shores.
Following that reasoning, then, if there truly were beings from beyond the stars, humans would be the ignorant savages. Kate gave a sharp shake of her head. She did not like that notion one bit.
At last they reached several pairs of French doors leading out to the terraces behind the palace. Outside, the sunshine was overlaid with silver, making the grass and shrubbery appear metallic.
The guards opened a set of doors, then preceded the queen and prince outside. Shading their eyes, they peered upward.
“Good gad,” one of the redcoats exclaimed. “It appears to be heading directly for us.”
The remainder of the court poured out onto the terrace. The air was filled with a deep, nearly inaudible hum. The light struck Kate like a blow, and she blinked against the brilliance. One of the queen’s ladies in waiting handed the monarch a parasol, and a few others sprouted above the throng like colorful mushrooms after a rain.
Lacking that apparatus, Kate cupped her hands around her eyes and squinted into the sky. Good heavens! And rather literally, at that.
The shining sphere hung over London, so bright she could not look at it for long. From the sphere, a dark ribbon descended—a plume of smoke left by a smaller orb. That object was most decidedly coming closer.
Was it a weapon, aimed at the heart of the Empire?
“Your majesty,” the captain of the guard urged, “please, return inside.”
“I will not be any safer within the walls than without,” Queen Victoria replied. “Whatever is approaching, we must meet it with fortitude.”
Already, the orb was much closer. Kate estimated it would land in the garden in no less than two minutes. As it approached the noise grew to a loud rumble.
The soldiers lifted their guns and trained them on the dark blot descending from the sky. Closer. Closer, until it was the size of a small outbuilding. It brushed past a few trees on the outskirts of the garden, and their branches snapped off and tumbled to the ground.
The air shook with a deep, mechanical roar. The surface of the man-made lake nearby shivered violently. Kate clapped her hands over her ears, watching as the object slowed to nearly a hover.
With excruciating delicacy, it landed on the manicured lawn of Buckingham Palace. The blades of grass beneath it wilted and sizzled. The orb seemed made of metal, yet no light sheened off the surface, and it had no discernible seams or rivets.
The noise cut off, and for a moment Kate wondered if she’d gone deaf. Perspiration stuck her dress to her chest, and she plucked at the fabric. Then the shouts of approaching soldiers punctuated the air as they poured into the garden and surrounded the black hulk of the orb, raising their guns.
“Hold your fire,” the queen commanded, sweeping out one gloved hand.
The soldiers shifted, but remained at the ready.
Noiselessly, the orb split in the front to reveal an elongated oval opening. Something stirred inside. The crowd leaned forward, fearfully fascinated, like a rodent before the sway of a cobra.
Faint movement—and then a creature floated out. It was not human, although it had two long appendages on either side that might be termed arms, and a head on top of its torso, surrounded by a clear bubble. Two flat, black eyes, turned on the crowd. Below those eyes, the creature had a slit for a nose, and a mouth full of writhing tentacles.
Bile rose in Kate’s throat at the sight, and she swayed. A nearby lady screamed and fainted, eased to the ground by her companion. No one else bestirred themselves to help—they were all transfixed by the dreadful sight hovering before them.
One of the soldiers yelled and discharged his musket. Kate flinched at the sound, half hoping the bullet hit its mark, the other half knowing they were all doomed.
The creature turned its head, and the soldier slumped to the ground. It was impossible to tell if he were dead, or merely stunned.
“Halt!” Queen Victoria cried, her voice finally taut with fear. “Do not shoot.”
“But, your majesty—” the captain of the guard began.
“No. We shall wait, and greet this creature as civilized beings, not vicious animals.” The queen took a single step forward. Her grip on her parasol seemed inordinately tight.
The thing turned toward Queen Victoria, and Prince Albert caught her elbow.
“Greetings,” the queen called. “We mean you no harm.”
“Y
et,” a nearby lord muttered. “I think we’re better off shooting the damned thing.”
His wife hushed him, and Kate could not decide if she agreed with the man or not. Part of her could not believe this was happening—that the glint of light she had first spotted two weeks ago had brought a being from the stars to land here, in the heart of London. Such things simply did not happen.
And yet, the dark orb sat implacably on the greensward, and its occupant was even now gliding toward the terrace.
Kate sucked back a breath and resisted the urge to bolt for the French doors and cower beneath a table. Instead she clenched her hands and watched. The creature stopped a safe distance from the queen. Perhaps it understood the tightening of soldiers’ fingers on their guns, or recognized the acrid smell of human fear.
A crackling sound filled the air, and then a voice. Inhuman, certainly, with odd inflections and staggered pauses, but the words it spoke were recognizable.
“These…beings wish no harm is speaking…to ruler of earth.”
There was a pause, and Kate wondered if the last bit had been meant as a question. The queen seemed to draw the same conclusion.
“Indeed,” the queen said. “I am Queen Victoria, ruler of the British Empire. Who are you?”
“We are…eeixlltiey.” The final word was a garble of sound. Likely there was no match for it in the English language.
The creature’s tentacled mouth did not move, and the voice seemed to emanate more from the orb it had arrived in than from the alien figure. Still, there was no doubt it was communicating directly with them.
“Welcome to earth, Yxleti,” the queen said, making a valiant attempt to pronounce the name. “Tell us, why have you come?”
“To observe…explore…assess…”
A bead of sweat ran down the side of Kate’s neck, and she wiped it away. She did not much like the idea of being “assessed” by inhuman creatures from the stars. But they had devised a way to communicate in English, and clearly been wise enough to come directly to the queen of the largest empire on earth.
The prince leaned over and whispered something in Queen Victoria’s ear. She nodded, then turned to her captain of the guard.