The Afterlife of Alice Watkins 2

by Matilda Scotney

  “Anyway,” she said, her voice becoming lower, seductive, “someone who is just a friend wouldn’t do this…” she bent forward and kissed his mouth, holding his hands away from her body.

  “or this…” she continued with a saucy grin, kissing his chest,

  “or this…” her mouth trailed teasing kisses as she slid down his body, her hair stroking his flesh, she looked up under her eyelashes as he groaned and covered his eyes with his arm.

  “Oh, Alice, I’m so glad we aren’t just friends!”

  In the courtyard, just before dawn, the two stood wrapped one final time in each other’s arms.

  “I love you so much, Alice,” he said, trying to put two years of breathing in her perfume, feeling the warmth and softness of her skin into this one last embrace. “I hate to leave you.”

  “I hate it too, Noah, but…” she looked up at him, her lip trembling, willing the tears not to fall, but despite her best efforts, one or two escaped and dribbled down her cheek. “We had these few unexpected hours together, and I know you have an important job to do. I love you, Noah, I really do, and I’ll be here when you get back, I promise.”

  Reluctantly, he let her go. “I’ve programmed a Tabernacle shuttle to take you home. I have to leave, Patrick’s taken the Significator out, and it’s right above us.”

  Alice looked up.

  “You can’t see it.”

  She shook her head.

  “No, it already seems a long way away.”

  He kissed her again and lifted her into the shuttle. As it rose, she watched him stride towards the high altitude automatrans she arrived in last night. When he was out of sight, she looked ahead through the forward viewport, at the dawn, at what remained of the night sky and already, she missed him desperately.

  Chapter 31

  Principal Ryan’s command chair on the bridge of the Significator didn’t feel like he fitted it now—the contours felt strange, unfamiliar and unwelcoming. Only a few hours had passed since he left Alice and the weight of separation lay heavily on him. He thought about their whispered words of love that morning and how she clung to him, determined not to cry. He was confident she knew how much he loved her and that he would be counting the months and hours until he held her again.

  The institution of reliable communications would be a priority on this mission, for without them, it would be difficult to contact Alice privately. He wanted to hear her voice, rather than rely on the military channels usually employed at the entry into threshold, where so often, voice communication converted to text, followed by an inevitable delay. Ryan often thought it a pity the telepathic A’khet didn’t need a communications array, he would have rather liked some Knowledge about decent comm. systems. Communication from within Threshold was the Achilles heel of deep space travel.

  He opened the crew manifest on the registry. Apart from Junnot, most of the crew were returning engineers and crewman; he skipped the Tyros as he had nothing to do with them, they would be Junnot’s responsibility. The manifest appeared to be in order, but one name stopped him as he flicked through—Dr Rosa Quintock. He knew that name. Rosa Quintock? He opened her profile. Yes, her face was unmistakable. Dark hair, large eyes, from the Americas Province, very beautiful. He remembered when she came on board the Inquisitor, most of the male crew went gaga. She was also very provocative. He thought of Alice’s word—floozie—and understood its meaning. He smiled. Yes, Quintock might be called that. She once bailed him up in an elevator on the Inquisitor. She liked rank, but he’d been cool towards her, and she didn’t find that appealing. In his opinion, where physical charms were concerned, she was a female version of Patrick. And now, she was here on the Significator, on the medical team. He opened the orders:

  ‘Dr Rosa Quintock, assigned 63rd day/3rd quarter/2513 - Principality ship Significator, transfer—Accessor.

  Accessor? He checked the transfer entry, signed by Principal Anil Ahmed on request from Statesman Carmichael Patrick. Patrick? What was he playing at?

  It was common enough to request transfers if the requesting officer considers a specialist suited to a mission and if the commanding officer is agreeable, but this was for the medical team. She wasn’t a mission specialist.

  Principal Ahmed’s call signature flicked up at him, the Accessor would be accompanying them to threshold space.

  “Ryan, we’re just about ready to get underway. You’ll see that three of my crew have transferred under the request of Statesman Patrick. I’ve approved. Have you seen the orders?”

  “Yes, Ahmed, they’re fine. Why have you released Dr Quintock? She isn’t a specialist.”

  “Patrick requested her and the two design engineers who will be working on your communications array. You need them more than I do, and after you let me have Oakes, I thought I would return the favour. I realise Dr Quintock isn’t a statesman, but she is keen to work in frontier medicine. She is also an outstanding pilot—quite matches you and Patrick. I think she’ll complement your crew. I believe she’s wasted here and Patrick was keen to give her a chance. You can reject her if you wish.”

  “Crew assignments are Patrick’s area. I trust his judgement. All decks have reported in. Civilians are back on dock. We’re ready.”

  Ryan watched the Earth drawing away, Statesman Patrick and Statesman Junnot joined him on the bridge, the three standing silently as the ship turned to starboard and the expanse of space slowly filled the viewports. Before he met Alice, Principal Ryan considered the world held little to hold his interest, little for him to explore or to satisfy him and until now, his world, his life of exploration held everything. In the seconds before the ship turned and the blue Earth drifted from view, he understood fully what his heart had told him these last few days—there was only one place in the universe he wanted to be, and that was with Alice. But he had a responsibility, to this ship and this crew and for now, he had to choose the galaxy over her. He allowed himself only a moment to reflect on the recent weeks, then taking a deep breath, he tuned out of his private thoughts and tuned back into his role as Principal of the Significator.

  Alice arrived back home to find the aunties enjoying a glass of wine out on the verandah. They didn’t ask where she had been, and after enquiring after Thomas, smiled in understanding when she said she might miss dinner and go straight to bed. After discussion, they had a fair idea where she’d spent the last few hours.

  Next morning, breakfast passed without a mention of the evening before, and Alice spent the rest of the day with the aunties, looking after animals, fishing, cooking and talking, but not once did they question her. She didn’t know they’d seen the automatrans, and they didn’t tell her. They would wait until she came to them with whatever she wanted to share.

  With Principality 19’s winter almost behind them and Spring just around the corner, Alice made sure she filled her days. She had no real need or desire to leave the homestead, save to go to the beach with Mary and Jane. She spent long hours at the registry, determined to learn as much as possible about her new world over the next two years, although she often found herself drifting into the history and architectural areas.

  There were a few visits to Dr Grossmith’s home, where she met his brother. Principal Katya and Statesman Mellor came to the homestead on one occasion, giving Alice the opportunity to show off her garden. Principal Katya reminded Alice about the bi-annual ball at the Tabernacle, assuming she would be attending? Alice agreed, but only from duty and love for Principal Katya; for herself, she couldn’t garner any enthusiasm at the prospect.

  And almost every day, she heard from Noah. She longed for those times when she heard his voice and saw his face. The day-night cycle on the ship was the same as for the Northern Hemisphere, so though there was a time difference, he’d leave a message to say when she could contact him if she was sleeping or not at home. Both Noah and Alice tried to make those brief messages positive and bright, but one time, she cried and Noah, in gentle understanding, lifted his hand to the registry
panel, encouraging her to do the same and they touched each other across the vastness of space.

  She also heard from Patrick, chatty and lively and full of enthusiasm. He made occasional comments about his feelings for her, but she only ever just smiled at him and changed the subject.

  As the ship moved through the borders of proximal and median space, visual contact became less distinct. Noah said this was an issue to be worked on during the mission, and Alice hoped with all her heart they might discover how to make it work efficiently in deep space. As it stood, once the ship passed into threshold space, visual communication would be lost, and as they ventured further, most likely audio as well. The region they headed for was uncharted and unexplored, and it bothered Alice that Noah would be in a sector of space where all manner of dangers could lurk. Without effective communications, anything could happen, but then, she supposed, even if something were to happen, no other ships had the capability of effecting a rescue. She had to trust he would make it back safely and not fill her head with such thoughts, or it could be a gloomy two years.

  Six weeks after Noah left, Alice reluctantly attended the biannual ball at the Tabernacle, wearing a green gown not too dissimilar in style to the one she wore in Spring, not caring to design anything different and allowing the aunties to select the colour. She avoided dancing and spoke dutifully with curious principals she hadn’t previously met, skillfully deflecting any questions of a more personal nature. As soon as she was able, and hoping no-one would see her leave, she walked alone to the courtyard and stood in the spot where she and Noah had said goodbye. She looked up at the window of Noah’s quarters. She knew she was only torturing herself, but she couldn’t help it. The stars above twinkled their indifference that they had taken him from her, and she felt desperately alone. Hot tears fell onto her cheeks as she looked to the heavens and whispered, “I miss you, Noah, I really, really do,” and felt as though her heart would break.

  The night after the ball, Principal Katya went in search of Statesman Mellor to join him in a late-night scotch. He was seated in his new comfortable seat. She sat beside him, knowing he expected her. He handed her a glass. This had become quite a regular late-night ritual—not a time for speaking too much, just keeping company and unwinding. The sound of piano music, mournful and sad, came from the library. Principal Katya nodded towards the door.

  “It’s Alice,” Statesman Mellor said, looking over.

  “I have never heard her play before,” Principal Katya said. “But I know of these nocturnal wanderings.” She studied her glass and thought about the night she’d seen Alice and Noah in front of the Tabernacle. Alice must miss him, but in all these weeks, neither she nor Noah spoke of it. If they wished to keep their romance a secret, so be it, as World Principal, she would not pry, and as Noah’s aunt, no doubt she would learn of it in due time.

  “She plays at least once every time she’s here,” Statesman Mellor said. “But she never remembers.”

  Principal Katya rose, handed Mellor her glass and headed for the library. The red-haired woman at the piano wore only a nightgown. Her feet were bare and her hair messy, as if she’d just lately risen from her bed.

  Principal Katya walked towards her and stood in the well of the grand piano. The woman looked up and stopped playing. There was an impression of something otherworldly, oddly bright and out-of-place surrounding the woman.

  “Hello,” the woman said.

  “Hello,” Principal Katya smiled back. “It’s Alexis, isn’t it?”

  The woman nodded.

  “You play well. Where did you learn?”

  Alexis stopped for a moment, a small frown shadowing her eyes, then she tinkered with a few keys.

  “At school, I think. I was a boarder.”

  Principal Katya was unsure what ‘boarder’ meant and resolved to check on the registry later. Now was not the time to have a lesson in vernacular.

  “Do you know where you are, Alexis?”

  Alexis looked up to the high ceilings and around the library.

  “A place of governance, this is the library. I’ve been here before, but I’m not entirely sure why.”

  “Do you know who I am?”

  “You are familiar, but I find it difficult to hold onto new memories when I’m like this, in this state. Other times, I seem to be somewhere else, a different dream place. The only thing that stays with me throughout is music, and sometimes, I find my way to this piano. I don’t even know where I find my way from! I played another piano one time, but I can’t remember where. And here,” she looked down and pulled out the skirt of her nightgown. “I wear these funny nightclothes and have bare feet,” she smiled at Principal Katya. Not Alice’s smile, but a beautiful smile.

  “Do you have other memories, Alexis?”

  Alexis tilted her head in thought, “I remember not having any hair and being very sick and my…” she raised her hands a little helplessly, “my poor Uncle Martin was so worried. He said he would do anything to save me, but we all knew it was hopeless. And now, I find my hair has grown back, so I wonder if I’m dreaming, or in a coma, or dead.”

  “You are not dead, Alexis. You have been asleep for a long time.”

  “Uncle Martin asked A’khet to help. At first, they said they couldn’t but then, I don’t know what they did. It’s vague. I was really ill, too late to make any difference I would have thought.”

  Principal Katya was aware Alexis had been desperately ill when she was preserved, but this woman seemed resigned to death, it appeared to hold no fear for her. And the A’khet, they’d known her uncle? Principal Katya saw the pieces of the puzzle fitting together. Alexis spoke again.

  “Do you know where I am? How can I be in two places?”

  “I am afraid I don’t know that other place, Alexis, but part of you is here, and we love you. We are hoping you will be restored to us fully.”

  Alexis appeared not to have heard.

  “There’s a woman,” she placed her hand over her heart. “Here, and I have a voice when I’m with her. I don’t know who she is but people call her Alice, and she tells them, ‘Alexis without the x’.”

  Alexis stood suddenly, her face lost all expression.

  “It is because the love of the A’khet transcended all others,” she announced, then with neither glance nor hint of recognition towards Principal Katya, she turned and left the room.

  Principal Katya followed and watched her as she ascended the stairs. She would return to her suite and in the morning would be Alice again. Principal Katya now understood what A’khet meant at that first meeting. Alice and Alexis were not the same person.

  She returned to Statesman Mellor and her whisky.

  “She spoke to you?” he enquired.

  Principal Katya nodded.

  “She spoke.”

  “Why do you seem troubled, Principal Katya?”

  “I am sad for the girl I met tonight.”

  “Sad, for Alice? Why are you sad for her? Surely this is her amnesia?”

  “I am not sad for Alice. Alice is very dear to me. I am sad for Alexis Langley.”

  Chapter 32

  Alice and Principal Katya spent an enjoyable morning together before Alice was due to leave for home, taking tea and talking about Principal Katya’s favourite subjects, food and crochet.

  Principal Katya elected not to tell her about the exchange of the previous night, concerned it might be a complication to her life, but today, she had other unpleasant and worrying news for Alice.

  “Alice, do you recall, Dr Clere proposed further debate and study regarding your preservation?”

  “Yes, I understood he had support, at least from his team.”

  “They have withdrawn this support since you successfully began living your life as a normal citizen. They knew and liked you on Saturn Station and want you to continue your life undisturbed.”

  “So, he’s on his own?”

  “Regrettably, no. He has converted several, much younger and less ex
perienced scientists from several disciplines, eager to blaze similar paths of glory as Clere, to join his cause.”

  “Can he force me to submit to these studies?”

  “No,” Principal Katya reassured her. “But he has put forward a demand that you return to Saturn Station. He intends to analyse tissue and blood samples, undertake psychological assessment and the use of ‘techniques’ to uncover your real memories.”

  “What techniques?”

  Principal Katya was not an expert in medical matters but was aware that the outdated methods Clere proposed as fundamental to his research were deficient in almost all areas. If supplemented by present-day technology, he argued, he could quickly bring Alice to a state of recognition. These methods were not without considerable risk and had long since been abandoned as potentially harmful. Alice could lose all the memories she’d made since waking, or her amnesia could become total; the areas of the brain Clere planned to stimulate might not be repairable if his team made a miscalculation. Clere reasoned it mattered little if Alice lost her Alice Watkins memories, they were false anyway, and the risk needed to be weighed against the possibility of the memories of Alexis Langley being recovered and the offering up of the formula of the preserving fluid. He insisted the benefits outweighed the risk. The words, ‘what do we have to lose?’ were mentioned only once in his proposal, but to Principal Katya, they crawled over every sentence.

  Principal Katya had seen the timid Alice Watkins persona diminish significantly over the months. She had blossomed, matured. Now, having met Alexis Langley, she realised no amount of scientific study would unravel this great mystery—even for the A’khet, the answer would undoubtedly prove beyond their mystical abilities.

  “Clere believes you have condensed memories,” she said. “One false, one true. He proposes to conduct a procedure whereby your memories are completely isolated and returned to you, one by one, eliminating those he believes are superfluous, which could be all of them. This procedure, called psychobiographism, involves the insertion of a probe into your spine; this technique was developed at the end of the 21st century to rehabilitate criminals. It was not without its merits in that application. Clere has managed to replicate a probe from an example in the Bell Institute. He means to use it to lift any censorship your subconscious is employing to fill in the gaps in your knowledge. It has serious side effects, any memories you value will be cleared. Do you understand these implications, Alice?”