BOOK 4: PREPARATION / CH. 32:RECEPTIONS
SATURDAY, 22ND DECEMBER, 4PM, THE CAPITAL.
Deborah was fascinated by the people dancing. It was all very strange to her. She knew it happened, but hadn't ever been at such an event before.
Couples, and obviously not-couples dancing together. She'd seen the prince dancing with different women, but just once with his future bride, Eliza. It was very strange behaviour. She saw that Eliza had been refusing all invitations, like she was, and that Karen and George were not dancing except with each other, except that at the beginning Karen had danced with her father, and George had danced with Karen's mother. That seemed acceptable.
The president, beside her, noticed her watching. “Cousin, you do not want to dance?” he asked.
“It would not feel right, to dance with strange men.”
“Ah. Then dance with your husband!”
“My president, I do not know how.” Adam admitted.
“Then, my cousin, perhaps you will do me the honour of accepting a dance? Then your husband can watch and learn. This is not a very difficult dance, you understand, there are others, far more complicated. The important bit is to move your feet at the beat of the music. Left foot, right foot, feet together, right foot, left foot, feet together. You should become used to this form of entertainment. You will meet it again and again. If a man should try to pull you close, that is a breach of etiquette. You may push him away and rebuke him, if he persists, you should slap his face, and the dance will be over. Probably, it will start a diplomatic incident, but only your husband should pull you close. It should not ever happen, of course, but it is possible.”
“I must learn this, my cousin?”
“You must, it is a very old part of their culture.”
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Karen saw that Albert was dancing with May Kray, and decided it was time to put one of her plans into operation. She beckoned May Ngbilla over; even with the train detached it was far less complicated if she didn't move. “Do you see my friend Deborah there, in the green dress?”
“Learning to dance with the president?”
“Yes. He's her cousin, and he's publicly nominated her as next in line, which we all hope won't spark a civil war when he dies.”
“Ouch.”
“At the moment though, she's also his truthsayer.”
“Really?”
“It's not a very public thing — she wears a veil when she's on duty. Want an introduction?”
“Yes, please.” Karen had another thought.
[Eliza, May Ngbila is about to be introduced to my friend Deborah. I believe it would be good for you to meet her too.]
[Cousin of the president? We've been introduced.]
[Yes, I know. But I bet you were wearing gloves. I'll warn her too, if you're happy for that to happen.]
[Oh! Well, yes, in the interests of good international relations. I'm assuming you don't mean to expose that I've got the gift. Even that I've got the power is a bit risky.]
[No. I don't think she needs to know that. Though she knows I have it, by the way. She's a believer, as is her husband.]
As Deborah left the dance floor, Karen thought to her. [Deborah, my friend, I would like to introduce you to two people. Would you meet one from my culture who is to work as a truthsayer? Our cultures are different, and people here know nothing of the role, so her role will be different, but she is young.]
[Yes, I will meet her. You will translate for me?]
[Of course. She is the girl sitting beside me.]
[And the other?]
[A big secret. She will come as May, the truth-sayer, leaves. If you would, as though by accident, shake hands with her without gloves, please. I think it would be good, but... I ask that you be very discrete. Only a few know.] Deborah came close to where Karen sat. Karen stood up and said “Deborah my friend! How do you like dancing? Have a seat and let us chat, please!”
“It has been a long time, Karen. Your dress is beautiful!”
“As is yours. I see less worry lines on your face, too. I think marriage is good for you.”
“It is good. And of course my life is more secure than ever before, even with the grumbles of the elders and the tribes. I do not know if I will ever enjoy this dancing thing, but, it is not too unpleasant.”
“When you are more practiced, it can be a place to hold a conversation. And of course it is nicer when you dance with your chosen or your husband.”
“Oh. Yes. Of course.”
Switching to English, Karen said, “Deborah, this one beside me is May, and she has much to learn. She has a job as truthsayer, the first such in our country, we believe.”
“You example are.” Deborah said, hesitatingly. “It is for for police, or for person that you work?”
May puzzled over the strange syntax, but answered “I work for a person, for Sarah.”
“Sarah is my cousin.” Karen supplied. “She hopes May can help her not be bothered by people who wish to lie.”
“That is not an easy task.” Deborah responded.
“I know.” May replied. “Sarah also knows this. As well as I.”
Deborah looked at Karen and asked, in her native language, “Your cousin also has this power?”
“My cousin also.” Karen confirmed. “My cousin is a busy lady, however, and very rich. She seeks to help people who are poor, who need help to pay their debts. But you know that here there is no history of truthsayers, and there is much fear, on both sides. There is fear that people will react badly, and there is fear that any with the truth-saying ability will be a thought-stealer. It seemed good to Sarah to pretend she has no power, except to those who work with her. People at her church and her workplace know, but to tell the whole world that this rich woman has the power? It might be dangerous.”
“So she pushes the danger onto this young one?” Deborah was not impressed by that.
“No! She thinks that no one will think a young girl is dangerous. But a very rich woman who has rich and powerful friends? There will be fears.”
“Ah, I understand. It is like the way that I was safer as a servant than I am now.”
“Exactly.” Switching back to English, Karen said “I've just filled Deborah in on why Sarah's employing you.”
“Because she's too busy.” May said.
Touching May's hand Karen added [And because a sixteen year old school-girl isn't nearly as scary to the general population as a multi-millionaires reclusive thought-hearer might thought to be be.]
[Not to mention one who's got connections to royalty.]
[Oh don't!]
“So you have no traditional dress at all?”
“No. I could dress as a witch, I suppose.” May said. “But a real witch would inspire fear. And not be a Christian. Witches deal with magic and demons.”
“That would be not good.” Deborah said, then switching to her mother tongue “She should invent one, I think. The question is, how does she proclaim her power, and how does she hide her identity? And how will people understand what she wears.” Karen translated.
“You mean, should I just wear a T-shirt with 'professional truthsayer' on it, rather than fancy dress?”
“Or would something more subtle be appropriate, like a business suit with some kind of emblem?” Karen asked.
“What is 'business suit'?” Deborah asked.
“What a bank-manager, accountant or lawyer might wear.”
“That might be good, yes. Someone serious, but not someone connected to the occult.” Deborah agreed. “But I don't know your culture, I don't know how I can help, really.”
“May, are there questions you have that aren't so cultural?” Karen asked.
“Yes. How do you recognise a lie?”
“For me, it is a little different. Culture again, people do not lie to a truth-sayer. But if they did? Karen, translate please.”
She spoke and Karen translated. “By catching them thinking 'what do I say?' 'does that keep my lie sounding true' 'oh she almost caught me out. I mustn't think that.' My presence prevents the lie, mostly.”
“That is what I'd like.” May said.
“Part of that is the ritual and the incantation.”
“Can you tell me about those?”
Karen again translated: “I don't know how relevant they will be, but I tell them of the God I serve and his power to judge the living and the dead, I tell them He has given me power to hear their thoughts, and a voice to shout out when they lie. The incantation is a prayer, really: that God will bring to light any lie they speak, and not let justice be perverted.”
“Thank you. Have you ever been in a situation where the truth shouldn't be told?”
“No. You can think of such?”
“I guess, where a lie is being told to protect another person.”
“I can think of that where the person you're talking to is good and the people questioning are not, but... would you put yourself in that position?”
“No. No I guess I'm thinking about all the stupid ways people might get in debt. Say that they get in debt because their brother's wife was really really stupid and got tricked into some get rich scheme, a second time, but the brother doesn't know. So the person lies to say it was them that got tricked, but it wasn't.”
“Oh. Then you'd have to be very careful, I think. A truth-sayer hears many many secrets, but must not lie. If you like, you are an expert witness. In that situation, you could leave, simply refuse to verify the person's story. Or you could just say the truth without the secret: this story is not the truth, but by it he thinks he protects someone he thinks is innocent.”
“Thank you.”
“It has been useful?”
“Yes. Very.”
“I'd like to talk to Deborah a little, May, if that's OK?”
“Of course.” May said, and went back to her place, looking around. She wanted to dance, but there weren't many boys around her age.
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“Deborah, let me introduce you to Eliza properly.” Karen said. “There is a connection neither of you know, I think. Deborah, Eliza was a hostage held by the evil Ibrahim. Eliza, Deborah helped to arrange the soldiers meeting you. At that time I did not know my thought-stealer uncle had a daughter, or that she served the same Lord as you and I, Deborah.”
“I am pleased to meet you.” Deborah said, offering her gloveless hand.
[Karen said I should offer you my bare hand.]
[She told me the same.] Eliza thought. “I thank you for your part in my rescue. Karen is right, I didn't know.”
[And now we have met, what next?]
[We pretend we cannot talk like this, I think.]
“I understand your cousin has named you heir?”
“That is true.”
“Then, perhaps we should find your husband, and my fiancé and introduce them to each other too, and tell of this new connection between our countries? And that we share our faith.” Eliza suggested.
[That we share this ability?] Deborah asked.
[Perhaps that is better done privately. My ability is not known publicly.] Eliza thought to her.
“I ask, please do pray for my cousin — that he finds faith and lives long. There is too much to learn.”
“My future father in law found faith recently, but I ask the same prayer for his life.”
“Your country expects the... the rock from space. I am sorry.”
“Yes. That is what the dreams and visions indicate. The very city where Karen was a student will be hit.”
“At the start, when the discovery was first made, it was in our land. Your pain is our relief.”
“Yes, I heard the report from Karen's father. We have the warnings. I do not expect many to die, though one of the dreams said there might be some.”
“I did not know. Can you tell me more?”
“There was one, we took it as a warning. There was a field full of tents quite near to the city, and a small rock came and destroyed one tent. So, we will not put the tents near to the city.”
“Ah. I will pray that it is just a warning, not a true prophecy.”
“Thank you.”
“And I am glad Karen told us to meet.”
“So am I.”
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SATURDAY, 22ND DECEMBER, 7PM, THE CAPITAL.
May was amazed. The wedding had started seven hours ago, and the reception was still going on.
“Any idea when this finishes, Tim?” she asked, as he approached her once more.
“No. None at all. I was wondering myself. You sure I can't persuade you to dance?”
“You've had three dances, Tim!”
“Yes. One with each bridesmaid except the one I really want to dance with.”
“I got to dance with prince Albert! Twice!” she gushed.
“I know.” he said, increasingly morose.
“He asked me something. Come on, sit down and I'll tell you all about it.”
“What was it? I hope you're not planning to supplant Eliza.”
“That's not funny. She's nice, and you're the one I'm going to marry.”
“I was wondering if you'd changed your mind.” he said, sure that she had, despite that reaffirmation. She'd rejected him every time he'd asked for a dance, and had hardly spoken to him all day. It had made him think about all the times she'd said they'd marry. It had been scary to start with, but the idea had grown on him. It certainly made it easier to know how to respond when other girls had seemed interested in him. He didn't want that certainty taken from him. He liked May; she was smart, Christian, and pretty. Very pretty. And now she was dancing with the heir to the throne but not with him.
“Tim, be serious.”
“May, every time I've asked you for a dance you've shrugged me off onto one of the others. I mean...” he dropped his voice “Pris is old enough to be my mother!”
“Don't be silly, she's not thirty yet. I've been thinking, I've got a difficult decision to make.”
“About prince Albert.”
“Partly.”
“Ha! I knew it.”
“We've got an invitation to the palace.”
“Who's we?” he said, unable to work out why Albert would need an invitation there.
“You and me.”
“What for?”
“Services to the heir to the throne.” she said, with a very self-satisfied smile.
“I don't want to know.” he said, bitterly, not sure what that could be except for something which was repugnant.
May looked at him oddly. “I'm going to tell you anyway. I found a bug in the hotel last night. Security ushered Eliza and prince Albert out of the building, then I helped spot some more cameras, more bugs, and the perpetrators, who were on their way to tell a journalist about the relationship between Karen and Eliza, which would have meant dozens of cameras instead of just three. As a thank you, I'm pretty much allowed to choose anything that doesn't cost much money or more than a few hours of their time.”
“And that's why Albert danced with you twice?”
“Yes. Eliza gave me a few suggestions this morning, Albert a few more, and helped me discard a few of them. Some of the ideas were too crazy.”
“You spoke to Eliza this morning? How? And what were they doing at the hotel?”
“Oh Tim, don't you get it? Karen's her cousin. Eliza was helping with the dress. Karen's the one that told the reporter over there about Eliza.”
“So, Karen's beautiful dress....”
“Is the one Eliza's going to wear, yes. Now, we've got three sensible options, and I want to know which one you want to pick.”
“May, please, can we have a dance?”
“You know I don't think it's a good idea, Tim.”
“Why not?”
“Because if you remember, we agreed a month ago dancing wouldn't be a good idea.”
He cast his mind back. A month ago? Oh! “May, that was about going to the end of term party, wasn't it? Not about a formal dance at someone's wedding! I mean, the lights are on and no one here is going to be going off into a corner for a snog, are they? It's vastly different.”
“You're sure?”
“Very.”
“I thought it was just, you know, you getting tempted beyond what you could bear. I've been trying to protect you.”
“And I thought it was you gearing up to dumping me, and it hurt.”
“What!” she asked in a shocked whisper.
“Please don't push me away, May.” he said.
“I'm sorry, Tim. Let's dance, then.” she said. And they did, three dances.
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3.30PM, ANCHORAGE TIME.
Robert was no expert at judging needlecraft, but as was expected he looked at Maddie's display dresses. He didn't care what the experts said, they were gorgeous. Before the wedding, she'd worn a pale blue dress. It had been sky blue, he'd thought, he remembered, and he could see she was wearing green, with beautifully embroidered trees on it. Pictures of land and life, one might say. Especially as Maddie might say, who loved books, histories, myths, stories. Between arguments, she'd told him some when they'd been small. It had probably been one of the things that helped him fall in love with her that she was such an excellent storyteller.
His thoughts about the virgin sacrificed to the dragon came back, and he remembered it had been one of her best-loved stories; the dragon's bride. He knew there'd been themes in it, land, air, sea, space, as well as the traditional four elements, earth, wind, water and fire. And as he looked at these dresses, in the noise of the party, sipping a drink, he thought he saw the story there, or at least, what he remembered of it.
The dragon had been living on his own on an island, far from anyone and anything except the fish he ate. One day, he'd looked at the moon, beautiful and silver in the blackness of space and had gone to try to look at it. A month and a week and a day he flew up, higher and higher, until his island was a minuscule dot below him and the sky above was black even though the sun shone. He flew until he could fly no further, and the thin air beneath his magic wings would carry him no higher. Yet and still the moon was there, high above and laughing at his puny efforts to reach it. So the dragon turned his back on the cruel moon, stretched out his tired wings, and glided around the world. From the black of space he glided through the pale blue sky, he traveled over blue-green seas, and green forests covering the land.
Robert ticked off the dresses. Black with silver dots for space, check. Sky blue, yes, this morning. Blue-green with ocean motifs, check. Green trees, yes she was wearing that. Oh Maddie, your dresses are retelling your favourite story, aren't they?
As the dragon soared he saw something strange in the forests. A brown and gold rectangle, and then another one. It looked strange and pretty, this golden pattern on the land. And he circled lower and lower to get a better look. He saw there were creatures moving about on the earth. Not the fish he knew from his island, but they had legs like him, though no wings of course. And as his shadow crossed over them these white creatures ran, just like the schools of fish did. And he realised he was hungry, very hungry indeed. And they did remind him so much of the scared fish he hunted normally. So he decided he should see what they tasted like, these white fluffy land-fish.
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But he didn't want to eat a clever animal, so he caught one, making a cage of his claws, and spoke in the language of dragons which all intelligent creatures can understand. And the creature screamed its terror. He spoke in the language of the mer-men, and the creature screamed its terror. He spoke in the language of the sailors, who he sometimes saw as he swam, and the creature screamed its terror. He looked at the other creatures, and saw they had gone back to eating the golden hay on the brown earth, unconcerned at the fate of their colleague. So he roasted it, and ate it, and it tasted good.
And there were plenty of these land-fish, and he hadn't eaten in a month and a week and a day. So he roasted and ate four more, and then settled down to sleep.
Robbie noticed the five white buttons on the gold and brown dress, and smiled.
The shepherds heard the sheep's bleating, and from the wood they ran, expecting dogs or maybe a wolf or bear. When they saw the dragon, delicately roasting a sheep over a flame from it's mouth they were terrified. And when they saw the dragon repeat that another four times, and settle down to sleep they knew they were in deep trouble. Without the sheep they'd have no livelihood, no cheese, no wool. And they went back to their village in deep distress. They consulted the local priest, who was a sadly a man of no faith or courage at all, and he panicked and ran. They consulted the mayor, who was a bitter old man, and would not believe them, and threw them in prison for sheep stealing. But the shepherd's wives went and looked, and then they picked up the mayor and dragged him kicking and screaming to the sheep fold, where the dragon slept in the gold and the brown. And he stopped screaming and kicking, because he'd died of fright.
The wives went, very nervously, to consult the young woman who everyone called a witch. And she looked in her books, and in her library, and the were amazed at the way she could read without moving her lips. And she said “I don't know. I don't know at all. I can only find two ways of getting rid of a dragon, and I don't like either of them.”
“What are they?” asked the wives, worried about the sheep and the wool and the cheese.
“The first one is that we call in a knight. And you know how expensive they are.” And the women nodded, and moaned about how the last one had eaten a month's food in a day, and tried to steal their daughters too. And they asked the librarian what the other option was. And the librarian said “The other option is just from a story. It talked about a village which offered the dragon a beautiful girl, a virgin, and the dragon took the girl, and ate her instead of the sheep, and flew away.”
And the wives looked at one another, and at the beautiful librarian, who they knew hadn't ever let any man near her, and they tied her up in her simple white dress and took her to the dragon. And for good measure they took the sheep home.
Soon after the dragon awoke and saw that the woolly land-fish had gone, and someone had left another creature tied up in front of him. This creature had two arms and two legs, and very pretty dark hair. He decided she was much prettier than the moon. “Can you speak?” he asked her in the language of the dragons, which all intelligent animals understand. And she replied “Yes, are you going to eat me?”
“Why would I do that? You're not a land-fish or a water-fish.”
“The people thought you'd eat me.”
“You're too pretty to eat.”
“Thank you for the compliment, but what are you going to do then?”
“I don't know. Why did they tie you up?”
“Because I'm too clever and not cunning enough.”
“Can you explain that?”
“They asked me about dragons and I read what I could about dragons and told them. They can hardly read, you see. But they're afraid of me being clever. so when I told them about a story about a dragon eating a pretty girl instead of the sheep they decided I'd do.”
“I'm not looking to eat a clever creature. But you are pretty.”
“You've said that before.”
“I don't suppose you're unmarried are you? A pretty girl like you?”
“I'm not married.” she said, wondering where this was going.
“I've got an idea, then.” And he wrapped his magic wings around her and her ropes fell off.
“Thank you dragon.”
“Do you like books?” asked the dragon.
“Yes. I've got almost a hundred.”
“I've got almost a thousand.” the dragon said “Would you like to see them?”
“Is there a catch?” she asked, sensibly enough.
“You'll have to ride on my neck. It's quite a long way.”
“And you'll bring me back here if I want to?”
“If you want to.” the dragon agreed. “Or I could take you somewhere else where they don't think feeding beautiful girls to dragons is a good idea.”
“You are a very kind dragon.” she said.
“Thank you,” he said “I try.” And she climbed onto his neck and they flew away over deep blue water, and white winds, and brown and gold earth. And the librarian loved the intelligent conversation of the dragon, and his gentle manners. And his library had over a thousand books. And they fell in love.
He gave her a magic necklace of green and blue stones, and wrapped her in his magical wings until she was full of magic, and she turned into red fire and kissed him playfully. He called the white winds and brown gold earth and deep blue water and wove his greatest spell. And she became a dragoness, a beautiful, wise and playful dragoness, who taught him even more about the world. And he taught her the magic of her wings, how to fly, and how to roast fish in her flames. And they lived happily ever after.
“Robert, what are you thinking about?” Maddie asked, realising that he'd been sitting there a long time, staring at her dresses.
“Dress number four ought to be red or orange, my beautiful librarian.”
“You worked it out.” she gasped.
“Well it was your favourite story.” he said and then had a thought. “Did you keep the necklace?”
“Oh, you remember that too? My last ever gift from you.”
“And I remember you telling me not to buy you anything else or it would spoil the story.”
“I... don't think I remembered that bit about it spoiling the story. I just remember wishing you didn't take everything I say so literally.”
“Well, once we get to the happily ever after bit then I'm sure it won't spoil the story any more. And the shops are closing soon, I expect.”
“And your bank account is empty.”
“That's also painfully true. Another thing that's true is the sun's setting, we should go.”
“So soon!” she gasped.
“We need to find the cabin. It's been a long time since I was there. We've got, what, an hour until it's dark? I'd hate to try and find the path to it when it's pitch black.”
“I thought the party would continue until midnight!”
“Maybe it will, but I think we should go, unless you want to wait until dawn?”
“I can't stay awake that long!”
“Then, let's go!” and he picked her up over his shoulder and with her screaming at him to put her down, he headed for his parents in law.
“Sun-down! We need to go so there's light to find the cabin.” he shouted over her protests.
“Fine excuse!” 'Uncle' Jack said and waved him off.
“You're not taking me anywhere without my handbag!” Maddie screamed at him.
He put her down and asked “Where is it?”
“I'll get it.” she said, adding in a whisper, “And I can walk out on my own, thank you.”
“Not and keep your reputation.” he whispered back.
Holding her head up high she walked to get her handbag. And then dodged behind her mother and sister who were standing near by.
“He wants to humiliate me, mum.”
“He wants more than that.” Anna, Maddie's older sister said, with a knowing smirk.
“I'm trying not to think of that.”
“Go with your man, Madeline.” her mother said, and taking Maddie's hand she put it in Robert's. “Look after my Maddie.”
“I aim to.” he replied, picking her off the ground again, and carrying her to where the coats were.
“So, now I'm supposed to put my coat on so I don't freeze, then you're going to turn me upside down over your shoulder again?”
“No. I've carried you this far so you know you can't get away, then I'm going to hold you tight until you're in the car.”
“It's my car, Robbie.”
“I think I ought to drive you away though, shouldn't I?”
“I suppose so, for appearance's sake. Hmm, someone's put something in my coat pocket.” Robert said, feeling a lump that didn't used to be there. Expecting a mouldy orange or some other trick, he looked in, carefully. Seeing what it was, he said “I guess it's an anonymous gift.”
“What is it?”
“Urm, it's safer if it stays there. I'll tell you in the car.”
“Someone else with out best interests at heart?” Maddie guessed.
“I guess so.”
Gently, he led her into the carpark. For the sake of the watchers she resisted getting into the car for a bit. But then saw there was a policeman watching too. “Oops.” she said. “Robbie, there's a policeman.”
“You'd better get into the car then.”
“I will, but let me sort out my dress first.”
She stood up, sorted out her dress and sat in, as decorously as she could. Robbie got into the driver's seat, and was about to drive off when he saw the policeman coming over. Carefully, he turned off the ignition and kept his hands in plain sight, just in case the policeman was worried.
Maddie rolled down her window. “Good evening, miss, is there a problem?”
“No officer. We're just off on our honeymoon. I think you might have seen a bit of cultural play acting.”
“Cultural play acting?” he asked, confused.
“I'm expected to be reluctant. If I'm visibly keen to start married life, that doesn't speak well of my morals.” she shrugged. “One of our peculiarities.”
“You're sure there's no problem?”
“Would seeing our marriage certificate help, officer?” Robert asked.
“I hope your not asking me to demonstrate public affection towards my husband before our wedding night, officer. I'd risk public censure for the rest of my life.” Maddie said.
“No, maam, I'll not ask that. But, I strongly advise you to keep very private any more acting as though that your husband is abducting you.”
“Thank you for your advice, officer, I will.” Maddie said.
“Happy honeymoon!” he wished them, and went back to his car.
“That was... embarrassing.” Maddie said.
“Yes. Can we pray? I feel a bundle of nerves.”
“Of course.”
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SATURDAY, 22ND DECEMBER, 8.30PM, THE CAPITAL.
George and Karen finally managed to get away from the reception; it seemed that after being there to talk to all afternoon, everyone had suddenly realised they wouldn't be soon and needed to have a quick word.
“We've got an hour to get to the transit.” Karen said.
“Well, ten minutes by transport, what, ten minutes to say goodbye to everyone.”
“Ten minutes to check out of the hotel.”
“I'd forgotten that. So we've got half an hour to get changed? That should be plenty, surely?”
“Just folding up the dress properly will take about ten minutes.”
“Could we leave that to Sarah?” George asked.
“We might have to. But even then it doesn't leave much time for feedback, does it?”
“Not really. But I would still like to kiss you, properly.”
“George, let's wait with that.”
“You're sure?” George asked, confused.
“Yes you can kiss me any time. Let's save time for things that only happen once.”
“You mean helping you out of that dress, don't you?”
“Yes, my husband, I do”
“I don't see a zip.”
“There isn't one.”
“Do I have to guess?”
“George, I love you, and I'll tell you no more than that you don't need to go diving under my skirts.”
“Oh, shame!” He looked, and said “Topologically this looks impossible. There must be hidden fastners.” he ran his fingers over the seam at the back of the dress. “I wish I had time to do this more. I can feel something here. There's some kind of button inside.”
“That's part of the adjustment. You don't need to worry about that.”
After some more ideas, and the occasional kiss, Karen looked at the clock. “I need to tell you don't I?”
“I think so, love.”
“I have a question, George. Would you like me to do so you can watch, or would you like to do, bearing in mind you might not have as good a view?”
“I don't understand.”
“The designer of this dress apparently based this on one she wore on stage, for a quick change act. That one came off in about a single beat of the music. I don't think this one is quite so fast.”
“I, urm, ah.” he fumbled for coherent speech.
Karen looked at his thoughts. He was trying hard not to imagine what she'd just said, she also saw what his true preference was as an artist, to replace false images with a true one. A true image without guilty feelings, which he'd guard and treasure, not distort or abuse. “George, my gift to you. Happy wedding day and happy Christmas, don't blink.”
Checking George had his eyes open, she released the button, and all worked as it should. “You're all mine, George, and I'm all yours. You may kiss the bride.” He did, for quite a long time, as they let the feedback come and their love for one another blotted out their sense of time. Just one kiss. The amazing thing was, they got to their hypersonic transport on time, too.
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4.30PM, ANCHORAGE TIME.
“I'm glad we've found the cabin. It's getting dark.” Maddie said.
“Now all we need to do is get some heat.”
“I couldn't agree more. And light.”
“Here's a wind-up torch.” Robert said, “And here's the axe. Great.”
“Don't you go cutting off anything vital.”
“I'll try not to.”
“Good. I'm just saying that because it's rather prominent at the moment.”
“Maddie!” Robert said, embarrassed.
“Go cut up some wood for the fire, Robert. We've got some reading to do.”
“You were sniggering part of the way here.”
“I know. The introduction to the book was quite funny. Then.... then I thought we should read it together. I certainly don't want to tell you those things. You should have let me drive.”
“Oh. OK. Why?”
“Because I'd feel really lewd telling you some of what I read in chapter one. That's why I closed the book. I guess I'm more traditional than I thought. But then, so are you, carrying me away like that. Did you have fun?”
“It was the right thing to do, Maddie.”
“I know. Sorry for screaming so much. That was the right thing to do, too.”
“So, are we a modern couple or not? I mean, you're literate, happy to learn to teach. You drive! That's modern, isn't it?”
“I thought so. But, on the other hand, we're not gadje.”
“No. Our attitudes are different.”
“Very. The book says it's written for couples about to marry, not already married. Even though it is a Christian book. It's meant for study alone or together, but there are things I have read already that I wish you had told me. I feel... dirty knowing them from anyone but you. And speaking of dirt, I'm looking forward to cleaning this room as you cut the wood, because it's so dirty in here. I mean, look at the dust! I couldn't cook here, let alone sleep with this dirt around me.”
“Then, my wife, let's do our different work, and get ready for reading together.”
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SATURDAY, 22ND DECEMBER, 10PM, BLACKWOOD CABINS.
“Hello, Mr and Mrs Kray, I'm Matt Webb the administrator here. Normally Henry here would take you straight up to your cabin, but I thought I'd take the time to welcome you in person. Mrs Williams said that you'd like to do some skiing. The instructor's been alerted, is looking forward to earning some of Mrs Williams' money, and can be reached on this number, here.” he passed her the business card. “Alternatively you can come down to reception and whoever's on duty will call him for you. You're in one of the cabins with new secure cameras, of course, and the stove has just had a full service and a clean bill of health. Instructions for using it are in the cabin.”
“And since we knew you were coming late, I've pre-heated the cabin for you, Sir, Maam.” Henry added. “I'm not claiming it's at your favourite room temperature, but it should be at least twelve centigrade in there, possibly even sixteen.”
“Wow. First class service!” Karen said, with a smile.
“Well, maam, we understand that your coming here helped trigger the change of owners, so this is just our little thank you for that. We're not quite fully booked, you understand, but our jobs are looking a lot more secure than they used to.”
“Well, thank you for all you've done.”
“I'll leave you in Henry's hands, then. There's always either someone here or the system will forward calls to the wrist unit of whoever's on duty. So if there's any problem at all, or you need anything, call reception.”
“We will.” George and Karen reassured him.
When they got to the cabin and had been given the tour and the keys. George looked questioningly at Karen.
“What is it?” she asked, making a wild and highly accurate guess about what he was thinking.
“How cold are you feeling?”
“Not very. It's nice and warm in here compared to outside.”
“I was thinking the same thing.”
“Plus our sleeping bag ought to keep us warm.”
Thinking of their experiments that summer at the institute he asked, “Then, Mrs Kray, would you be happy if we continue our little experiment with emotional feedback? I'm sure there were a lot of points we haven't investigated fully.”
“That sounds like a good idea. And if we somehow do get cold, there's plenty of wood in here already.”
“I don't think I'll be keeping any written notes on this experiment.”
“I hope not. So, shall we start with holding hands, or with a kiss?”
----------------------------------------
5.30PM, ANCHORAGE TIME.
The stove was nice and warm by the time Maddie announced “I'll want to do more cleaning in the morning, but I think I'm comfortable with leaving it like this for now, are you satisfied?”
“Of course, Maddie! Come and sit with me?”
“Have you finished the introduction?” She sat down beside him, carefully staying a few centimetres from him.
“I have. Maddie, I know you mentioned cooking. I'm not actually hungry at the moment.”
“Not for food, anyway.” she said, with a shy smile.
He smiled back and kissed her. “Exactly. I saw there's a chapter at the back that's called 'For the wedding night.' Should we read the whole book now, or just skip to that?”
“I don't know. I can see it's tempting, but there might be things in the rest of the book that we should learn first.”
“You're probably right. Maddie, we're on our own now, married, and in private. Can you tell me what you really think?”
“I don't know if I even know, Robbie. Am I scared? Terrified. Am I excited? I'm not sure. Am I happy to be your wife? Yes.”
“And would reading the whole book reassure you?”
“I hope so. Either that or terrify me.”
“And may I hold you? Close, I mean?”
“Closer than this?”
“Yes.”
“I'm not sure, Robbie. Its not something we've done before.”
“I know. But if you're not comfortable with that...”
“It doesn't auger well for the rest of the evening, I know. Robbie, I'm a virgin, I'm thinking like a virgin.”
“I understand that, Maddie. But you're my wife and I'd like you to start thinking like my wife. So, easy step by easy step?”
“That's not going to work.” she said. “And I think you need to cross the boundaries, Robbie, not ask me to. And...”
“Yes?”
“Not lots of little steps, a few bigger ones.” Maddie said quietly, knowing it was right, and feeling terrible for saying it.
“You're sure?”
“Fairly.”
He looked at her beautiful face, and saw it was creased by worry and he wanted to kiss her worries away, caress her and hold her tight until she felt safe. Yes, maybe that was a big enough step for the first one. He started with kissing her on the forehead, and another one on her nose and her cheeks and her eyes and her nose, and chin, kiss after kiss until she was giggling and laughed “do you call that a big step?”
Then he kissed her lips, and held the kiss there, watching her eyes as well as he could. She struggled, and he went back to kissing her face. “Is that what you had in mind, my beautiful wife?”
“Not really, but I can live with this.”
“Good.” he said, and kissed her a few more times again. Eventually she kissed him back. He held her, and she didn't pull away. It was certainly not something they'd done before, so it counted as a step. Not a little one either. Together, they read the book.
----------------------------------------
SATURDAY, 22ND DECEMBER, 10.15PM, THE CAPITAL.
Sarah handed the dress over to Maria, enclosed in its travel case. “Eliza's got the long-term storage chamber at the palace already. You're sure it's no problem for you to deliver this?”
“No problem at all. It's much easier for me than for you to get past palace security.”
“Well, that's certainly true.”
“I presume you're emptying the house?”
“Yes. We'll put a lot of stuff in storage, of course, and I'm getting a quote for decommissioning the security system.”
“Any thoughts about what to do with it?”
“Well, I had thought that I'd get them to install it up at the cabins, but it's not really appropriate, is it?”
“Not really.”
“So I'm thinking that when we're rebuilding after the impact, we'll just reinstall it. Maybe I'll even let them convince me that something needs upgrading.”
“Personally, I doubt you need to.”
“Me too. Is it even worth reinstalling the sleep-gas release?”
“Given your relatives, good and bad, then yes, I'd think it's worth it. You're going to be increasing your profile every time you talk to someone, too.”
“That's true.”
“Something you might like to think about, though is adding a little change. The AI at the institute is a certified system. If Kate agrees, you could put in a request that it be able to authorise release as well as the police.”
“What would that have done to Dirk, when he tested it?”
“Sent him to sleep, unless he was recognised by the AI as someone in Security. Even then, noting down camera positions is a pretty aggressive act.”
“I just hope it doesn't decide that decommissioning isn't an aggressive act.” Sarah laughed.
“Oh, it's an extremely aggressive act. I'm sure it would try to gas them, If you're not there to reassure it. And since Karen's been staying there, the team that decommission the system will need clearance too. I've just thought of that.”
“Because they'd be able to look at history logs, you mean?”
“And retrieve her I.D. details, too, if they took the storage away.”
“I must admit I'm ignorant. Is it the same as the house computer, or a separate unit which talks to it?”
“A separate unit. Why?”
“Because there's data on the house computer I haven't got at yet — stuff my dad stored. Including, I believe, details for the thing I called my tiara.”
“Oh. You think it would be useful?”
“I presume that it was something to hide my ability from your brother. It would be interesting to see if it would protect, for example, you from thought-hearers.”
“I'm not sure I'd trust it, but yes. I can see that as a useful tool. But surely he didn't do all the electrical design and manufacturing work himself.”
“If he didn't, I can't find out who helped him.”
“Your tiara was broken, I understand?”
“Yes. I've got the debris, but hardly any of the circuits are in place, and there were lots. Horace and Ivan haven't been able to work out what the entire circuit was, except that it had different oscillators in it, and the chips were almost certainly custom-made.”
“Well, I do have certain contacts who have, shall we say, certain tools unavailable to the average research lab. If you'd like them to see what they can find out, with a view to reconstructing it as something to test for its uses inside Security? Perhaps the manufacturer is still around, and has the plans filed away, even.”
“Why didn't I think of that? Yes, that's entirely possible, isn't it? And if they are, then what's the betting they're about to get flattened by the impact?”
“Hmm. Yes, that's a possibility, isn't it? I can't imagine your father taking many trips to arrange it, or trusting more people than he needed to. Your little empire doesn't have any semiconductor plants in-house, as it were?”
“No. Nothing. I think I'll go and wave some micrographs at the companies I know of around here and see if they recognise anything, but if that fails then I expect I'll take you up on that offer.”
“What will you do if you do find a local manufacturer with the plans?”
Maria asked, not just out of curiosity.
“I'll almost certainly get them to make another one, and then start some experiments. Mama Ng didn't approve of it at all, by the way. She said it made my thought-hearing 'ears' numb. So I'm not going to try and use it. It might even be something I'd want the plans of destroyed.”
“Why?” Maria, normally unshockable, was shocked.
“If it doesn't work to block thoughts but only causes discomfort to thought-hearers, think what some people might want to do with that.”
“Turn it into a weapon. Yes. I see that.”
“But if it works as a thought-hiding mechanism...”
“Then it would serve a purpose, yes.”
“In the right hands. That's the tricky bit. So the crown might be getting exclusive rights anyway.”
“I appreciate your trust in your government.”
“Well, I'd be a bit silly not to trust Eliza, wouldn't I?”
“Remember the crown isn't the same as the royal family. But OK, point taken.”
----------------------------------------
SATURDAY, 22ND DECEMBER, 10.30PM.
Ernest Jacobs, owner and until now director of E.C.Stoves, knocked on his son's door. It was a bit late, but he knew Adrian, his son would still be awake, since he'd only just got back from an emergency call-out.
“Come in, Dad.”
“I'll let you shut the door, but I won't stay long. What was the problem?”
“A old toothbrush, would you believe it.”
“A toothbrush?”
“Yes. Turns out that their kid had been playing 'Mr Toothbrush takes a bath.' and that progressed into 'Mr Toothbrush gets rescued from the whirlpool.' Only he didn't on game number five. Kid claims it was because his Mum distracted him at the critical moment.”
“I presume the stove was cold, then?”
“Yes, well, they'd just started lighting it when the toothbrush went down. My guess is the distraction was Mum saying 'don't you dare stick anything but water down the feed-pipe'. They got most of the wood out.”
“Sensible adults, at least. Melted toothbrush would have been nasty.”
“Just what I said.”
Ernest handed his son a little piece of engraved wood. “Something for your desk, Adrian. Happy Christmas.”
“Dad...”
“I'm serious. I've been thinking about two things for the last ten days, and it's time for changes. This is one of them. I've been making a lot of mistakes over the past few years, and it's hurting the company.
"I'm probably going to accept young Mrs Williams' offer too. But I want you in on the negotiations. She's not interested in taking over, just in making sure we get good expert advice.”
“Dad, I'm not sure I'm the best person for the job. I'm much happier dealing with the stoves than finances and business decisions.”
“I was the same. But you're not going to be on your own. You've got the family around you, and I'm not planning on vanishing, after all. But, hard as it's going to be, I'm going to let you make the day to day decisions. I'm determined on that at least. Mrs Williams pointed out that there's no need for the owner to run the business, just to set the policy.”
“So, what's the policy, Dad?”
“We keep the company going. We listen to what the experts say about the impact. I told you she's got an inside track to the dream-prophesies, didn't I, that there were three witnesses?”
“Yes. I do wonder why it's so hush-hush about who they were.” Adrian pondered.
“I guess they don't want the personal publicity. I saw one rumour that one of them was someone in the palace.”
“Well... that would certainly explain why the King is taking it so seriously.”
“So, I think we ought to be ready for the impact happening. That probably means new sales dropping.”
“Or even drying up entirely. Which would be a disaster for the whole company, not just the guys in production. That's where our profit comes from, Dad.”
“I know.”
“So, what can we do?”
“We're going to have to put up servicing costs. And I did think, if we separate out the per-stove servicing from the travel time and fuel and the rest, then we could say something like why should our near-by customers with lots of stoves subsidise travel for people with one further away.”
“But we need to put costs up all across the board, Dad.”
“Not necessarily. That's where Mrs Williams' experts come in, I think. Setting a fair price for services, and keeping our customers happy at he same time.”
“Sounds like a very hard square to circle.” Adrien concluded. “I think we need those advisors.”
“What about the other parts of the package she was offering? I mean, the phone system has its quirks, I know, but do we need it replaced, along with the database redesign and other things she offered to throw money at?”
“Well, they're all interesting ideas, they'd all help the company. But it's your decision, Dad. It all affects your share of the dividend.”
“I'm retiring and drawing my pension, son. Don't worry about my dividend. You've got a share too. What about what it does to yours?”
“If you're serious about me taking over as manager, then I think that gives me a pay-rise, doesn't it?”
“You're right there.”
“So I think it's covered. But what does it do to the maintenance department, dad? I'm senior technician for a reason.”
“Yes, son. I had thoughts about that, too. Mick's better than the rest, technically, from what I've seen, but he doesn't have the seniority, and I'm not sure he's the best person to pick up a phone. So, that makes it hard. What about some sort of exam covering all areas of your job? You drag some of the worst cases out of the scrap book, and I'll act out the most problematic customers, and we'll give them some kind of score and see who comes out top?”
Adrian thought for a moment. “There's another option. Maybe there's no need for a senior technician. You know my work included taking bookings because I knew my way round the database as well as stoves. If we're getting a new database, which included somewhere where Sandra could easily see who's booked out when, and it also had some kind of symptom database where it would help her work out what sort of maintenance was needed for the most common cases, then she could forward the tough cases to Anna, say, who's really good at that side of things, but from what I've seen, pretty much anyone in the department except Mick has been able to handle customers when I'm out. They just weren't going to go near the computer.”
Sandra put her head round the door. “Hello, Grandad! Did I hear my name being mentioned?”
“You did.” Adrian said “If you had a helpful computer that would prompt you what questions to ask if you got stuck, do you think you could take maintenance bookings too? You could always pass the call on to Anna or someone if there was a tricky problem.”
“But I'd need to know who was available when.”
“Assume the computer would tell you that too.”
“Ooh, you mean we might be moving the booking system into the twenty-first century?”
“There are distinct advantages to a chart on the wall, girl. It never crashes, for instance, and if you're in the room it's much faster than scrolling through menus.” Ernest pointed out.
“And if you're outside the room then you need to take a walk, which is good exercise, I suppose.” she shot back, “I think I could handle it, Dad. Why?”
“Grandad wants me to put this on my desk.” he showed her the 'managing director' tag.
“Congratulations. But I never did get the point of those things.” she said “I mean, everyone knows who's who, so why do I need to be reminded that I'm the junior member of the sales department every time I sit down?”
“Tradition, visitors, new people. Plus of course, you cheeky girl, it lets us shuffle people's desks around to keep them on their toes.” her grandfather teased. “Anyway, that's yours now, Adrian. I'm off to enjoy my Christmas without as many cares in the world as I used to have.”
“Happy Christmas, Dad.” Adrian said.
Ernest did one more thing before going to sleep that night. He hit send on a message he'd drafted earlier:
“Dear Mrs Williams, Sorry for taking so long to decide, and thank you for your patience. I've just handed the management of E.C. Stoves to my son, who's been in charge of the maintenance department until now. He is fully aware of the unbalanced nature of our current business model, and he been telling me of the need to change policy for a long time. Since I'm an old dog, ready for retirement, it seems more appropriate for a younger dog to learn the new tricks. As he's also got a five percent share, I've discussed your proposals with him, and he's in favour. We would be very glad to discuss precise details at your convenience. Ernest Jacobs, principle shareholder, E.C.Stoves.”