by Frankie Rose
Agatha was singing when I entered the hangar in the morning. Her hair was coiled on the top of her head in a style that wouldn’t have looked out of place in Victorian England. She gasped when she saw me, limp on the sofa, lacking the energy to even pull my limbs into some sort of order.
“Farley! Did you sleep at all last night?”
“Not really,” I groaned, lolling my head to look up at Agatha standing behind the sofa. “I think I’m suffering from sleep deprivation. What’s up with the hair?”
The tiny woman gave me a confused look. “What do you mean?”
“Slightly outdated, don’t you think?” I yawned, stretching my body so that my loose t-shirt hitched up, exposing a little of my stomach. Agatha jabbed the bare skin with her index finger.
“It may look outdated to you, but women have worn their hair up like this for most of my lifetime. It’s only recently that this—” she tugged gently on the bird’s nest that was my own hair, “—has become acceptable.”
“Okay, fair point. Was it terrible being a woman back in those days? Having men expect you to be weak and retiring, doing what you’re told all the time?” I’d read just enough Jane Austin to know how women behaved back in the day, flouncing around in their long dresses, writing boring letters to equally boring men.
“No,” Agatha said, taking on a wistful tone. “It was great. Really. It wasn’t as bad for me, I suppose, because men and women from the Quarters have always been treated as equals. I could do whatever I wanted, and those were the days of discovery. Everything was new. Everything was an adventure. These days, it feels like everything important has already been discovered.”
“Hmm. When you put it like that... Do you miss it?”
“Sometimes. If I do, I just go visit Aldan. He can create whatever backdrop he likes as a meeting point when you go and see him. Occasionally I ask him to remember what he saw of Scotland, and it’s almost as though I’ve gone back. Like being a child again.”
I sat bolt upright, slightly dizzy. “He can do that?”
“Sure can.” Agatha nodded, her hair gleaming under the strip lights. “He doesn’t even need to be with you. He can host a time in his mind and leave you there, immersed in it, while he gets on with whatever he’s doing.”
“And you can talk to people? You can have conversations with them?”
Agatha frowned. “You can interact with the people but that has its limitations. They’re just shadows, so you can’t really have proper conversations with them or anything. They do react to you sometimes.”
“Sounds like the most advanced computer game ever,” I said, wondering what it would be like to step back in time like that. The shine in Agatha’s eyes said it was amazing.
“You could try it if you like,” she said.
“You think Aldan would let me?”
“Sure he would. He wanted to speak to you this morning, anyway. I was discussing your hallucinations with him and he was intrigued. He wanted to ask if he could monitor you for a little while to see if he could pick up on anything that might make them special. This way you could have a wander around for a while, and he would be free to do that.”
Without hesitating, I stood up, already making my way towards the door to get showered. “I’m totally in,” I told Agatha as I hurried away. “He can pick my brain apart all he wants if it means he might figure out what’s wrong with me. Exploring another time sounds like a sweet bonus.”
“There’s just one catch,” Agatha called after me. I already knew what it was. My enthusiasm suddenly fell flat. I swept my hair back out of my face and spun back to face Agatha.
“Is that really necessary?”
“’Fraid so. Without him, you’ll be completely lost.”
“Ugh.”
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