WARPING EFFECTS / CH. 20:WEDDING GIFTS
RESTORED KINGDOM EMBASSY, MARS. 16TH APRIL, 2296.
“Welcome, Kate,” Alice said, “Did you have a pleasant trip?”
“Not bad, not bad at all. Except for blasting our way out of orbit, that was unpleasant.”
“Problems?”
“Not everyone had found their seats or got strapped in. The woman who should have been beside me landed on me. All her fault, she'd actually got up because she wanted something from her bag. And oooh did she have foul mouth! Spoke as though they should have held up departure so she could get her glasses or whatever it was. And when they told her that by getting out of her seat she'd committed a safety violation, putting other passengers — i.e. me — at risk... wow was she angry.”
“Do I dare ask where she was from?”
“Not your problem, don't worry. The captain had her confined to quarters for twenty-four hours. The flight was more pleasant after that. But I'm not here to talk about my travel woes. I'd actually like your Simon to help me with a little experiment.”
“Should I be worried?”
“Not especially, but... well... maybe it'll strengthen my hand a bit. Lilly's helping Heather with negotiations, isn't she?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Heather talked to Sarah, but I think she should have talked to John too. But Will will do. I think there's good reason for getting the Institute involved too.”
“Really?”
“By the time she starts sending pilots, certainly. Those test-pilots are going to need to be made of stern stuff, really stable. But I think before-hand too. Want the complete sales pitch?”
“No, thanks.”
“That's good,” Kate said, “I'm still polishing it.”
“I thought you were just coming to play tourist, Kate.”
“Oh, I am. But there's nothing quite like a few weeks of space travel to help wild thoughts circulate around your brain. Changing the subject... have you thought much about Mama Ng, recently?”
“Not really. Why?”
“These days, well informed clan members guess that she had othersight as well as the gift. Unless she said anything to you, she didn't talk to others about it, but she either had it or used the gift in a way to give her similar insights.”
“We all have different specialities, I've noticed.”
“Yes. Mama's seems to have been making pronouncements about people's feelings for each other. For instance she told John and Sarah they were 'already married in their souls', or some such. Sound like anyone you know?”
“I don't think Heather would quite say it that way, but I get the similarity, if that's what you mean.”
“I was also thinking can you imagine yourself, or Karella, or me, or Sarah, or Vivian or any of the others making that sort of declaration? Or even Mystery at her most mysterious?”
“Hmm. I can certainly imagine Mama saying it. But no, no one one else. But Mama did say that she'd never met someone with Simon's gift.”
“But she did she sound surprised?”
“She said he was unusual, but I knew that.”
“He is. That's why I want Simon to have a look at you and me, just chatting, when he comes through that door. Can you ask him to?”
“OK. I'm going to be quite curious looking.”
“That's OK, I've just got little crazy theory.”
“What about?”
“What Heather actually saw between Maggie and Kevin, rather than how she interpreted it.”
“What, you think that she saw Kevin and Maggie would spend a lot of time thinking to each other?”
“I'm sure she's seen that before. According to Heather — I asked on my way here — she saw attraction, no surprise there, plus an relationship that God was involved in and blessed, but there was a strong hint about not yet in it. Maggie's now concerned that that means Yvette's going to die soon and she'll marry Kevin, and she's absolutely no desire to see her new sister die that soon, or think that any romances she enters before then are destined to fail so she can be available to comfort him when they're both mourning. But Maggie knows so much about the gift — it's just natural to her how it can be used — that I really wonder what God's got in store for her if it's not that one day she has it herself. So I'm wondering if that might be what Heather saw.”
“Oh! I see. I heard that Maggie got Kevin to send her thoughts to Heather soon after he was given the gift, is that what you mean about her knowing how the gift can be used?”
“Yes, that's part of it. And the way she can give memory balls, that is pretty odd, too. I've tried asking her if she knows how to do various things, and she knows everything I've thrown at her. Even stuff Sarah claims she didn't know, or had forgotten.”
“But you're sure she doesn't have the gift?”
“Unless God is hiding it from us all. You'd know more how that works better than me.”
“I'm pretty sure Heather would have spotted if she was as damaged as I was. Simon showed me once. I was a total mess.”
“Yes, yes, he's said.” Kate said. “But unless it was before she could speak, Maggie's never shown any sign of having the gift. She's just been so close to Sarah's thoughts, and had memory balls from her unconscious, too, that it seems she knows it far more — instinctively I guess the word is — than I do.”
“Hmm, yes. Memory balls. Did you hear that Maggie gave Renata a memory ball full of vocab items for kitchen items about five years ago?”
“No! Language-learning by a memory ball?” Kate asked, surprised.
“Yes. Handy, concept, eh?”
“If only...”
“That's what I said. I now know how to say most of the things in this room in French. Maggie's been teaching Renata how to make them.”
“And it works?” Kate asked.
“It does, yes. And I even hear them not coming out right, so I can practice my pronunciation.”
“That is... wow! That's worthy of a paper!”
“There are limits. According to Maggie, it lets you put labels on things, easy vocab items like that, but when it comes to grammatical items, thinking in proper sentences, things like that, it doesn't help much.”
“They've been experimenting on the way out here?”
“Yes.”
“And Maggie was actually able to teach Renata how to make a memory ball?”
“She gave her a memory ball of how to do it. But Maggie's a bit cautious there too. Renata already had the concept, from when she was ten, and had dreamed about being able to roll up her thoughts, and so on. We tried it on Simon and he said he just couldn't make sense of it. But then I've been trying to teach him since I heard Maggie could make memory balls, without success.”
“So maybe some people just can't?”
“Or maybe some people have a different concept of what a memory is in the first place.”
“Oh. Right. So Maggie's going to have Sarah's concept, Renata might have picked that concept up from her five years ago...”
“But Simon's concept of thoughts and memories aren't the same as mine I know. His concept of conscious and unconscious is a bit like soup with bits of spaghetti in it, the ones you can see are conscious.”
“And you?”
“I'd say... interlocking chains of snowflakes, some are always hidden from view, others come in sight when you change perspective.”
“That's a beautiful image. But that's different to me again,” Kate said.
“What do you see?”
“Ha! I had decades of training in psych-counselling. A countryside of plains, woodland, dense forests and deep pits. The forests and pits are surrounded by soldiers, guarding them to make sure the dangerous creatures don't get out.”
“And psych-counselling is all about taming the dangerous creatures?”
“More like taking a tour of the landscape, noting what's still dangerous and trying to sedate it enough to pull it's teeth, what isn't as dangerous as it seemed when the defenses were set up, what's died of old-age or starvation, and what needs bigger fences.”
“Bigger fences? Really?”
“Sometimes that's the best solution. Acknowledging problems to be dealt with later, maybe much later. For instance addictions, dangerous thought patterns, you don't want to go near that area, so what boundaries and defences you want to set up until it's safer?”
“OK. But how do you make a ball out of landscape?”
“I've always found it quite a challenge to make memory balls.” Kate admitted.
“Snowballs are easy, once you've picked the crystals.” Alice pointed out.
“I'm sure that's got to be cheating,” Kate said, shaking her head. “Shall I ask Maggie how she thinks of memories?”
“If you like, but Simon's almost back from work.”
“Oh goody, I might get to find out if I'm right. Can we pray a bit?”
“Of course.”
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FINDHORN-BUNTING RESIDENCE, 16TH APRIL, 5.00PM.
“Heather?” Simon said, eventually, “Can I interrupt?”
“Yes Dad,” Heather said, looking up from the corner where she and Matthew had been sitting closely together looking at plans on her study tablet.
“Image for you,” he said, touching her hand, “faces blanked out to help the experiment.”
“Ooh, this sounds interesting. That's mum. I recognise her.”
“Yes.”
“And someone else... I presume it's Kate?”
“Yes. So much for hiding their faces. But tell me about what's between them.”
“Some strong links between them, they're both sort of waiting for something or someone, I'd say they have been for a while.” Heather looked at the mental image some more, then opened her eyes wide, and looked at her father “Hey!”
“Yes?”
“They're not going to be married, why am I seeing them as united like this, with that glow?”
“That halo is the same as a Godly match, agreed?”
“Yes.”
“We can tell Kate she was right then. Marital future doesn't come into it, it's God's approval on their relationship, whether that's as a couple or as friends or...” he left it hanging.
Matthew looked confused. “You've just decided to stop because I'm here, Simon. Should I leave?”
“No Matthew. Just some things Dad and I know that we're not allowed to tell you.” Heather said. “I was way out of order in what I told Maggie, wasn't I?”
“About Kevin? I think they'll say it was for the best, but.. yes, you were wrong in your analysis. But.... if I'd been there I'd have probably said something pretty similar. Our categories are not necessarily God's.”
“It's a shame we can't plug our minds into a display to document this.” Heather said.
“I'm not sure Mum would want to be quite this... exposed.”
“True. You see her in far more detail than I do, of course,” Heather said. “I guess that's part of marriage.”
“You don't see her in such detail?” Simon asked, confused.
“No. Emelia said something similar, remember? About how everyone saw things about their spouses that other's didn't?”
“OK, but... I've always seen your mother in this much detail.”
“Well, you were in love with her even though you'd forgotten.”
“I'd not forgotten.” Simon corrected his daughter, “I'd just lost my confidence that my dream-girl was a real person.” Catching Matthew's confusion, Simon said, “Alice learned how to use the gift as an early teenager, and one of the first things she did after that was look for who she'd marry, well, roughly. She first talked to me when I was a teen, and we'd practically decided we'd marry as soon as we were both old enough. Then, a few days later... her life fell apart and she got really confused, and I didn't hear from her again for years.”
“Oh. That must have been... really sad.”
“Yes. Yes it was,” Simon said, “But getting back to the present, Heather, I wonder, ought you to reassure Maggie that reevaluating what you saw, it might not mean anything romantic at all?”
“Maybe. I just wonder how many categories of God-blessed relationships there are. I think that would scare her even more.”
“What do you mean about categories of God-blessed relationships? And why would that scare her?”
“Urm,”
“What Heather means, your highness,” Alice interjected, “is if your mother's not told you anything about Kate, then Heather won't either.”
“You mean about Kate having the gift too? I knew that. Oh. You think Maggie's scared of getting the gift?” Matthew asked.
“I'm not sure. It's just a little hypothesis of mine.”
“Why would you think that?” Alice asked.
“I don't think I should say,” Heather said.
“Onto safer ground, then: memory-balls. Have either of you tried doing one?”
“That's Maggie's speciality, isn't it?” Matthew asked.
“So that's a no?” Alice asked.
“That's a no,” Matthew agreed.
“No idea how,” Heather said.
“Guess,” Simon said.
“You thought it was gifted people only?” Heather asked.
“Indeed. But then I learned Maggie can and Renata too. So I tried.”
“And?”
“Catch,” he said, grinning.
Alice caught it. It wasn't big, but it was a memory-ball. She looked inside. “You romantic! I was right, wasn't I?”
“Cool and a bit scary, Yes.”
“Is it suitable for curious daughters?” d3Heather asked.
“You remember it that clearly?” Alice asked, amazed, and ignoring her daughter while she looked at the memories in the ball. His treasured memories of when she'd first burst into his life, and then when she'd first been in the peace, on the hills above his old house, and echoed him thinking of her as sleeping beauty.
“Well, obviously you do. But I'm sure I wasn't that pretty, Simon.”
“You still are, love.”
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
“Too much flattery will get you pealing the potatoes if you're not careful.”
“OK,” he grinned, heading towards the kitchen.
“Before you go, you've got to decide if Heather gets to learn about when you totally failed to kiss me.”
“Not to mention how you wrapped me round your little finger.”
“Well, that too, not that you seemed to mind. But maybe it should stay just between the two of us, then? But she's heard all the stories, after all.”
“I don't mind. Heather? Your call. You've heard Maggie's experience better than us.”
“Yes. It'll become my memory. It's probably best to leave emotionally charged memory balls alone, isn't it?”
“Probably. Matthew might get very confused if you start falling in love with me,” Alice agreed.
“So would I, mum.”
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COMMUNICATIONS DEPARTMENT, LEVEL MINUS THREE. 2296, MONDAY 22ND APRIL
It was Manuel's first day. Dominique wasn't with him, or anyone else he knew, and he was nervous. He'd been met by a relative of people he knew, though, and that helped. She'd given him what she called a quick tour of the building - it had taken an hour — and exactly like the plan for the day had said, now he was in a little room with her. He'd been rehearsing what to say next.
“Ma-Maggie said you got here because you liked breaking codes, about twenty years ago.” Manuel said.
“Oh, did she? I'll have to have words with her about saying that sort of thing.”
“Oh, sorry.”
“It's true, though. I still do, in fact.”
His face seemed to brighten, Mandy noticed, before he blushed and looked at his feet. His prepared lines vanished from his mind like water on a hot stove.
“I used to be really shy too. It's not as crippling as it used to be, but we don't have many extroverts down here, you'll notice. Since I grew up with lots of siblings and don't actually panic when I meet new people, they've made me the tour guide. Do I remember someone saying Mark sixteen was important for you?”
“Yes,” he risked a glanced at her. He'd been noticing all morning that she was much prettier in real life than the picture he'd been sent. He plucked up the courage to ask, “You too?”
“Yes. And you've met Zara, I understand? I'm one of her sisters in law, Zach's my oldest brother.”
“I noticed the name, and wondered.”
“But being shy, wouldn't have asked? That's why I said.” In the silence, Mandy noticed that his finger twitch, which she'd noticed on the tour, wasn't just a nervous twitch, it was Morse code, spelling out her name, followed by 'pretty'.
“My mother,” Mandy said, “always assumed that I'd follow in her footsteps and my life would eventually revolve around boyfriends, husband and in due time raising children. I said twenty years ago that it wouldn't, and she's finally acknowledged she was wrong.”
He looked at her, confused. Why was she saying this?
“Part of the problem of course,” Mandy carried on, “is working here, my working day is full of too many secrets.”
“Urm,”
“So, I have an oath that doesn't let me talk to many men, and I used to have a mother asking me if I'd been on any dates this month, which was quite a disincentive, actually. Apart from being very shy in the presence of women you don't know, what's your excuse? In case you're wondering, this is just me trying to get you to say something that I can't read on your personnel file.”
“Urm. I get scared.”
“And tongue tied?”
He nodded.
“Would it help if we switched to Morse code?”
“Sorry,” he said, slowly turning lobster-red as he realised what his finger had been doing.
“I understand from Heather that you are one of the brightest Mer alive, from Renata that you have a good sense of humour once you know people and come out of your shell, and from my supervisor that a large part of my work is going to be spending time with you until you feel comfortable here. And probably after that too. So, clarity is important, and I have to earn your trust.”
“And scaring me is part of that?”
“I don't want to scare you, Manuel.”
“No?”
“I want to reassure you that I don't bite, that I don't have any husband or boyfriend lurking in the background who will be jealous of any time we spend together, that I don't mind spending time with you. I vow before God I will try to be a friend to you, Manuel. If you want me to be your sister in Christ and you want to hide behind me as I understand you tend to with your sister, I will be that for you. If you only want to talk about work, we can talk about work, but...” she shrugged, “if you find your fingers saying I'm pretty too often to ignore, then maybe we can spend some time talking about what we want to do about that. But I'm not at all desperate to rush into that sort of relationship.”
“Thank you. Clarity is important, yes.” he agreed, and forced himself to say “It's not just my fingers saying you're pretty.”
“No? Then I suppose I ought to add that you are the first Christian man without a girlfriend or wife to join our team here in over a decade, and all my mum's badgering and expectations are telling me... well, never mind, that's just mum and my upbringing, I think. I'm an expert at ignoring things like that.”
“I'm an expert at ignoring feelings too. Except fear.”
“That's a harder one, isn't it? So, it is almost lunch time. We can go to the canteen, where there will be maybe a hundred people, we can go to a smaller dining room, where there's less choice but there will just be people from this floor, or we can go there, collect some food, and come back here, that is also normal.”
“What do you normally do?”
“It varies. Assume I have no preference.”
“Then back here. One person at a time is easier.”
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INSTITUTE FOR THE HUMAN MIND, 1ST MAY 2296
Jim was on the reception when, as he eventually told his children, his life changed. He spotted the girl, about his age, getting out of an official vehicle and coming down the path towards the institute. She was tall, she was well muscled, she was so gorgeous that he decided he needed to ask her out whatever her religion. She smiled at him, a gorgeous smile, making his heart leap and his grin widen.
“Pania Margaret James, I have an appointment,” she said.
“Welcome, very welcome, I don't suppose you're free this evening?” he asked.
Her charming smile remained in place, but suddenly there was a Mer knife pointed at his throat, “Most people here are Christians, I hear. You are a Christian, are you?”
“Urm, no.”
“Well... at least I don't need to gut you immediately, for risking breaking your oath to God,” she seemed just a little disappointed, he thought, “I'm going to give you two options then, shark. Change that fact or change your decision about asking me out.”
“Urm.”
“Because you're already a shark, I can see that from your smile, but if you ask me out, you're dangerous.”
“I don't want to be a shark,” he said, looking at the vicious knife a couple of centimeters from his jugular.
“Welcome, Pania,” Sarah said from behind him. “Do try not to get sleep-gassed.”
“He asked an entirely inappropriate question, Maam. But he's just learning the meaning of the word repentance,” Pania replied. Her knife didn't waver.
“I really don't want to be a shark,” Jim repeated.
“So, what are you going to do about it?” Pania asked.
“Will you go on a date with me if I become a Christian?”
“Jim, that is not a valid reason for turning to Christ,” Sarah said.
“I'm not interested in just one date,” Pania said.
“Urm, what about lots?”
“More reasonable,” she said. “But I do agree with the wise lady behind you. What sort of Christian would you turn into if you're only doing it because of a pretty face?”
“Not just a pretty face,” he said, “a pretty face with gorgeous hair connected to a beautiful body, with shapely arms and elegant fingers that are holding a really impressive knife. There's lots of convincing arguments there.”
“Tell me about yourself, shark,” Pania commanded, still smiling.
“I'm called Jim, I'm really clumsy with elbows, axes and dishes, but I can make jewelery. I'd like to make you some earrings, if you'll let me.”
“Why earrings?”
“Because they're more of a challenge than a ring.”
“And you like challenges?”
“Yes,” he said, noticing the knife was still not moving.
“And you'd see going out with me as a challenge?”
“No, well, I wasn't expecting the knife, but... I don't think you're a boring person to be near.”
“I see. You could just keep a crocodile as a pet. I hear that's exciting.”
“Crocodiles aren't nice to cuddle.”
“As things stand at the moment, you get to cuddle my knife.”
“You could put it away,” Jim said.
“Why should I?”
“Because I want to pray, I want to stop being a shark, I want to be a Christian.”
“No conditions?”
“What, about you going out with me?”
“Exactly.”
“I become a Christian, you promise to let me make you some earrings. No promises about dates, but... you're not married or dating anyone are you?”
“No, I'm not,” she said.
“Then I will be asking when I give them to you.”
“What's suddenly made you decide you want to become a Christian, Jim?” Sarah asked.
“Pania's just smashed my stereotype — which I admit was getting pretty wobbly — and convinced me Christians aren't boring.” He decided he didn't mind Sarah checking.
“I think he's actually serious,” Pania said to Sarah.
“So do I,” Sarah said, “In the circumstances, would you like to borrow an office to discuss things?”
“Urm... I'll be late for my appointment, won't I?”
“Consider it postponed for half an hour,” Sarah said. “Have you led someone to Christ before, Pania?”
“No,” and for the first time so far she displayed some uncertainly. “You're a Christian?”
“Yes. And in any case, I think I ought to come too, just in case young Jim here gets himself in any more trouble.”
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Half an hour later, Pania was sitting in John's office.
“Don't feel you need to say anything that's covered by secrecy laws, but you can, no doubt, confirm I have clearance to level one beta.” John said, “And just so you know some of what I know, according to the file Security sent, you're the daughter of two embassy workers on Mars, and that you were raised bilingual in Mer and English.”
“Yes.”
“You obviously feel more affinity to your Mer heritage than any cultural role-model you might find here in the Restored Kingdom, which makes sense from your genetics as well as your upbringing. My wife, who you met earlier, and I have met Alice and Simon a number of times, and last saw them and Heather, socially, a couple of weeks ago, but whatever you say here remains here. All three of them know we work here, so if you do want to talk to them, you are fully permitted to say that you met us, at our workplace, and so on.”
“But I can't talk to my parents about meeting anyone else,” she said.
“Meeting someone, yes, where you met them best done by the person concerned. Now, I know what was put on the forms that got you this interview, but I'd like to hear in your own words, if that's OK. What's the problem from your point of view.”
“I over-react all the time,” Pania said. “Someone says something wrong, and my knife is at their throat. I hear a warning about a six-hour storm in an hour's time, and I'm down in the storm shelter making sure there's enough food and water for a week. I pulled my knife on your receptionist for asking me out without checking if I was a Christian or not, and then I actually called him a shark.”
“I heard. And he's now a Christian?”
“He is.” Pania agreed.
“So, that bit of it worked out OK then.”
“But he could easily have been really upset and sued me or something.”
“He couldn't, not without breaking the reporting ban. But he shouldn't have asked you out; that's a breach of the conditions he's here as a work-placement student under, so if you want to make a formal complaint, let me know.”
“I don't want to get him in trouble.”
“No?”
“His reaction wasn't what I'm used to. Normally when boys ask me out and I pull my knife on them then they run a mile.”
“So it's happened before?”
“Yes,” Pania said, sighing, “lots of times. Martian risk-taking...”
“So you've sort of formed a habit of doing that?”
“I guess so.”
“But you also think it's part of overreacting?”
“Yes. It's not just brainless boys asking me out, if there's almost anything out of place, I get out my knife.”
“And you mentioned over-preparing for storms too.”
“Yes.”
“Do you react strongly to anything that's not life-threatening?”
“Someone asking me out isn't life-threatening.”
“Isn't it? From what I heard, he was so enamoured by your smile that he didn't care about making you an oath-breaker.”
“And a six hour storm?”
“Radiation storm predictions can be wrong, I understand.”
“Rarely.”
“What's the longest that a predicted six-hour storm has ever lasted?”
“A week,” Pania said instantly.
“And so you prepare for that eventuality?” John prompted.
“Urm, I guess so. But that was years ago.”
“How many years?”
“Fifteen.”
“So, within your life-time.”
“Yes.”
“You weren't very old. Do you remember it?”
“Yes,” she shuddered.
“Unpleasant memory?”
“Scary.”
“Did you have enough food?”
“Yes. Another day's worth.”
“Your family normally have a week of food in the shelter?”
“Yes, but my brothers used to snack on it....”
“Pania, why do you list this as over-reacting? It sounds like you're making sure you're properly prepared.”
“But my brothers don't live at home any more.”
“Would you ever go outside without your tent?” John asked her.
“Of course not.”
“How is that different? People might snack on emergency supplies, so you check you've got them.”
“But I'm supposed to be Martian! I'm supposed to accept risks, not check absolutely everything, not assume that someone asking me out is out to destroy my faith!”
“Do your parents think you're over-reacting to storm warnings?”
“I don't know.”
“What about other people at the embassy?”
“Not many of them are Mars-born... they think the forecasts are more reliable now.”
“Does anyone who lived through that week-long storm say you're overreacting to a storm warning?”
“Urm, I don't know.”
“Pania, who told you that you were overreacting?”
“My supervisor at the university.”
“Who interviewed you and a few others on Mars, and then accompanied you back here, is that the pattern?”
“Yes, she accompanied four of us here, gave us some orientation and so on.”
“But she hadn't stayed there long?”
“No, just a few months.”
“And how much experience has your supervisor had with Mer warriors?”
“I don't know. Not very much, I guess. I'm a bit odd, studying away from Mars or Atlantis.”
“You've told me about things that happened on Mars, and things that have happened here. Presumably your supervisor observed something that caused her to ask you to get help?”
“I saw one of my friends, Tina. She'd been talking to a non-Christian that evening... when she got up, she was really wobbly on her feet. The boy must have spiked her hot chocolate.”
“You intervened?”
“Yes. He made a formal complaint against me the next day.”
“Tina is a Christian?”
“Yes.”
“Does she often drink?”
“Alcohol? Sometimes a glass of wine with food; not often.”
“What does she think about you intervening?”
“She doesn't remember what happened, except that he was bringing the drinks. She feels terrible about what might have happened.
What I don't understand is that we were warned about that ploy, but when I act to put a stop to it going any further I get a formal warning.”
“He denied spiking her drink?”
“Yes.”
“To a truthsayer?” John asked.
“He made a voluntary statement to the university truthsayer that he didn't do it, but someone else might have.”
“And because it was a voluntary statement, no one asked if he'd arranged for it, or given some signal to indicate that's what he wanted. Would you recognise him?”
“Yes. He works behind the bar sometimes. I'm not allowed into the bar area any more.”
“Have you made a formal complaint against him?”
“Yes, that evening, after I'd got Tina home. But he denies doing anything and I'm apparently the aggressor because he tried to push my knife away and cut his hand, and I have a history of overreacting.”
“You are a Mer warrior and a Martian, under gravity-stress and culture-stress. The fact that the dangerous shark is still breathing demonstrates to me that you took due account of the different laws here, and did not overreact. The fact that your supervisor is a jit does not excuse her failing to give you and Tina the support you ought to have received. The university truthsayer also has some questions to answer.”
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BLACKWOOD CABINS, SATURDAY, 12TH MAY, 2296
“Thank you for coming, Sarah,” Mandy said.
“I'm always happy for an excuse to come to Blackwood,” Sarah said, “Is it a difficult problem?”
“Not really,” Mandy said, smiling slightly. “I seem to have a suitor: Manuel Mathfriend Penny Jacob. He's a mathematical genius as you might guess from his name, and shyer than I ever was.”
“So you've invited me, John, Yvette, Vicky, Zach, Zara and their kids?”
“And Dominique, his sister. But he knows Zach, Zara and kids already, and he's sort of hoping that they'll occupy the others. He and Dominique have been regulars at the youth hostel, almost since it was opened. He would like your approval to court me, and for me to have Dominique's approval, before our relationship goes any further.”
“That rather begs the question of how far it's gone so far.”
“So far, not very. Well, part of my intended-to-be reassuring 'we don't bite here' talk was that I didn't have a boyfriend lurking. I didn't mean it to, but I guess he took it as saying I was interested in having one. So, we get on well, we have things in common beyond liking codes and the challenge they represent, and I'm not really opposed to the idea of a boyfriend.”
“But?”
“Neither of us are twenty any more; we're not hormone-driven semi-adults. So why do my eyes look for him when I arrive in the office and why do I find myself smiling when we make eye contact? It doesn't make sense.”
“You're surprised at the strength of your emotions, is that it?”
“Yes, I guess so.”
“Want a diagnosis?”
“Mental instability?” Mandy suggested.
“The variety commonly known as falling in love, yes.”
“I was afraid of that. Bye-bye rationality?”
“Well, a certain reduction, at least where he's concerned. But on the other hand, it might mean bye-bye loneliness as well.”
“I'm not lonely,” Mandy claimed.
Sarah just looked at her.
“OK, OK, I'm happy being lonely.”
“That's not really true either, is it?”
“No. But I don't want to make a mistake. I don't want to fall in love with him just because he's shyer than I am and funny and handsome and available and Christian.”
“And you get on well together?”
“We do.”
“And you like each other.”
“Yes.”
“So... why shouldn't you fall in love?”
“Because strong emotions are scary.”
“No, I mean logical reasons.”
“You're my last hope. Can you think of any?” Mandy pleaded. “I'm scared.”
“Why don't we pray, Mandy? And then you can introduce me to the man you're supposed to marry.”
“Who said anything about marriage?”
“Your loving matriarch, who sometimes feels led to use her gift to look into the future, and sometimes says things she doesn't expect to.”
“And this time?”
“Does it matter, Mandy? You're not going to let fear delay your obedience to fitting into God's plans, are you?”
“There's a huge difference between foreknowledge and marching orders, Sarah.”
“I don't know when, Mandy, OK? Let's leave the future some secrets.”
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THE CAPITAL, RESTORED KINGDOM, SATURDAY, MAY 23RD, 2297
“Say hello to your Auntie Heather, Yelena.” Svetlana said to her daughter. Yelena blew a milky bubble, gurgled happily, and reached for a flower on Heather's bouquet. Her hand-eye coordination was good, but her arm at ten-months old wasn't quite long enough to reach.
“I don't think she's very interested in me now. But she did quite a fast crawl down the carpet during the sermon, didn't she?”
“To my extreme embarrassment, yes. Kristof was much more dignified,” Svetlana said, referring to the elder of her twins.
“She was adorable, and it's very easy being dignified when you're asleep.”
Heather said, “But how are you doing?”
“I'm thoroughly enjoying motherhood, thank you. If I'd known it was this much fun... well, I thought I was too busy. Thank you so much, Heather, for all you did to help my little bundles of joy arrive safely.”
“My pleasure.” Heather dropped her voice, “I hope this time is less complicated than last.”
“This time?” Svetlana looked at the young happy bride, and shook her head, “Heather, are you at it again?”
“Oops, sorry.”
“So... how long have you known?”
“I just spotted it today. But then I've not seen you face to face for a while.”
“Hmm. Well, congratulations on being the radiant bride, and I hope you can manage to juggle all your responsibilities well.”
“Thank you. And thank you for lending the project Nadiya and Sebastian. They are just so natural at helping people brainstorm and organise themselves.”
“They've been really fitting in? From your perspective?”
“From what I see and hear, there'll be genuine tears when they need to go back to running the barony, from all cultures represented. But they can't be in both places.”
“No. Not until you invent the time machine, which I hope you won't do. I'll talk to them before they return about if this is really just a one-off. But I'd better let some other people talk to you.”
“I'll try to speak later, but...”
“You'll have more time on the other side of your honeymoon, Heather. I'm not planning on moving house, so you know where I am. Drop in when you can.”
“Thank you, Imperial Tsarina, we might take you up on that offer.”
“Do.”
The next well-wisher was actually two: a pair of familiar faces, Yvette and Kevin.
“Congratulations, Heather. It's a beautiful dress,” Kevin said.
“It's not very practical, there are hardly any pockets at all,” Heather said, grinning.
“The idea of having any in a wedding dress is a bit unusual, I understand.” Kevin pointed out.
“Where am I supposed to write things down I think of, then? It's not like I'm wearing my wrist unit.”
“I think the tradition is you're not supposed to be thinking of anything you'd dare write down.” Yvette said, “but I wouldn't know, really. Not my culture.”
“How are you two doing?” Heather asked.
“Sarah keeps reminding us that patience is a virtue,” Kevin said.
“And?”
“We have set a wedding date: Saturday the eleventh of July,” Yvette said.
“That's the end of your first year, Yvette?”
“Yes, a few weeks into the summer. I pointed out that my current career path makes me a student for another six years at least, and dad got the point almost immediately.”
“And Sarah?”
“Would have preferred we wait a bit more.” Kevin admitted, “But culturally...”
“It's hard on you both,” Heather nodded.
“You're invited if you're on the right planet,” Kevin said.
“Thank you. I'm not sure where we'll be yet.”
“Isn't your schedule supposed to have calmed down by now?”
“It has, a bit,” Heather grinned, “I've managed to make time for a wedding and our honeymoon! Oh, keep an eye on your friend Jim, Yvette. My friend Pania has plans for him. Hello John, Sarah!”
“Congratulations on your extra new role in life. Karella sends her love to you and Matthew, and between us we've cooked up a little surprise for you.”
“Oh? I love surprises,” Heather said.
“Good. Our wedding present to you and Matthew, Heather. Personally, that is, it's not to become part of any royal space force or something like that. You didn't ask, but we knew you were worrying about the general topic.”
“Urm...”
“Have a quick fly over Atlantis at sixty-five kilometers high some time, you won't miss it.” Sarah said.
[Tonight if you like,] Karella's mind-voice added. [We'll hand it over officially later, but you're welcome to have a sneak private viewing.]
----------------------------------------
65KM ABOVE ATLANTIS, LATE THAT EVENING.
“We're exactly a kilometer away now,” Matthew said, looking at his radar display.
“It's huge,” Heather said, needlessly. “Yes, but what is it?” Matthew asked.
“It's whatever we want to equip it to be, love,” Heather replied, looking at the faintly glowing sphere of crystal. “Offices, workshops; a Boris-drive equipped mini-Atlantis for bubble-drive research. Our mobile laboratory and home from home.”
“All in free-fall, unless we're hovering next to a gas giant.” Matthew said.
“Until we get around to inventing artificial gravity. Boris thinks we ought to be able to tweak his equations to, and it'd make a long-term stay a lot healthier.”