WARPING EFFECTS / CH. 3: INTERVENTIONS
ST PETERSBURG, RUSSIA, SAT 23RD DECEMBER
“Your ambassador said it was a urgent matter of state, Your Majesty?” Tsarina Svetlana, Empress of the Russian empire and Taiwan said. She looked tired, and pregnant.
“Heather Findhorn-Bunting said very very little, Imperial Majesty, but she said that it might help if I visited. I'm sorry to add to your day, it looks like it's been too long already.”
“Heather asked you to come? She told you about...?” Svetlana put one hand to her precious bulge.
“No, not even that much. She said you'd been under a lot of stress. She and my grandson seem to be making plans to see more of each other, by the way. But that's not urgent. You're worrying yourself into exhaustion, aren't you? I was the same, when I was pregnant with my daughter. Sadly, she died, and we still mourn her. But worrying didn't help, not one tiny bit. Praying did, so did crying. Crying with my husband helped a lot, crying and praying together? That's even better.”
“And you came all this way to say that?”
“No. I came because when the Tsarina starts cancelling meetings people notice, and quite frankly, get worried. Heather assured us we didn't need to put the military on alert or anything, and told us to stop being nosy, and no, we couldn't help. Then she corrected herself and said I might be able to.”
“And your friend 'Mystery' didn't add to the picture?”
“I asked her to check on you when we heard of the cancelled meetings. Angry and worried was all she would tell me. Which didn't really help much.”
“One doctor tells me I must stay active, and take vitamins. Another says yes, be active but I must also rest, and sleep well, and of course stay calm, and avoid all medicines, including vitamin supplements. They claim to be experts but tell me contradictory things!”
“And even then, they refuse to promise anything,” the queen said, knowingly. “Can I make a suggestion or two?”
“I expect you can, yes.” Svetlana said, tiredly.
“First, get some sleep. Second, you have been the most open member of your family for generations, and your people love you. Use those two facts. Let them pray for you, and your little one. Thirdly, let Rudolph handle everything. Oh, by all means he can pretend that he's bringing stuff to you, let's not upset people too much. But if you're asleep, or exhausted, let him handle it alone. Your staff can help him make the right choices anyway, can't they? Alternatively, or maybe also, go on holiday.”
“A holiday?”
“The one thing I've noticed, in the last fifty plus years, is that well-managed countries never fall apart while their rulers are on holiday. Businesses don't either, for that matter. Oh, there might be a crisis that makes it necessary to run home, but even then, you being on holiday would not create a power vacuum. It's up to you of course. What's more important? Your pride or having a clean conscience for the rest of your life that you did everything you could to save the life of your little one? That divan doesn't look too uncomfortable, Imperial Majesty. I suggest you try it out. I know there are probably a whole army of functionaries whose only pleasure in life is when you to give them some attention, but they'll wait while I'm in conference with you, won't they?”
Svetlana looked at the divan in question. It was tempting, but not as tempting as her bed. “Thank you, but I don't think I'll resort to subterfuge. And you're wrong using the singular. Two precious ones in here.”
She pressed a button on her desk. When the door opened, Svetlana said, “Olga, it seems her majesty's urgent state business was to tell me roughly what you've been saying, only more strongly. And she added a holiday, too.”
“And now her Imperial Majesty is going to bed if she's any sense,” The queen interjected.
“I have some sense, thank you very much, your majesty. Olga, when I wake up, show me that decree of regency I know you've optimistically drawn up. Was there anything else you thought I should do, your majesty?”
“Just the public declaration, but I'm sure Olga can handle that. It's great being my age, I can tell you youngsters what to do, and no one gets offended that a grandmother thinks she knows best.”
“That's only because we know you speak from love,” Svetlana said, “thank you. But before you go, will you pray with me?”
“Of course.”
----------------------------------------
BESIDE THE SEA, RESTORED KINGDOM, SATURDAY 23RD DECEMBER.
“Your grandmother actually went!” Heather said. “I didn't really think she would.”
“The Tsarina has visited a number of times. She and my parents are pretty good friends.”
“So why were they doubting her?”
“Because they've not met much since she came to power. And sometimes people change, I guess. And they couldn't explain what was happening.”
“Not even your mother?”
“My mother won't spy on people. Check on them, but not spy.”
“Sensible of her to draw limits. Speaking of which,”
“Yes?”
“How many Security officers do you need around you?”
“Standard detail, somewhere like this? Only two.”
“And those two up ahead are just out for a stroll?”
“I guess so,” Matthew squinted into the glare at the couple watching the waves a few hundred metres ahead. “I think I recognise them, but they're not royal protection.”
“That's all right then.”
“Is it?”
“Well, they're not really paying attention to anyone but each other and their son out in the water.”
“In the water? He'll freeze!” He scanned the storm-grey water near the beach, concerned.
“He's playing dolphin, see?” She pointed, much further out, to the boy, in his early teens. “So, I doubt it. Shall we say hello?”
“I suppose we should.”
As they got closer Heather whispered, “Diplomatic corps.”
“You recognise them?”
“Not personally. They've not been to Mars.” closer still, she said in Mer, “Greetings, mer-friends. You son swims well, but he's getting a bit tired, and there's a nasty current a bit further out.”
“You know these waters?” Lilly asked in Mer.
“Not at all.” Heather switched back to English, “But I know what I see. I'm Heather Findhorn-Bunting, by the way. I expect we know people in common, unless the diplomatic corps is much bigger than I thought.”
“Lilly and Bob. You do have a bit of a reputation for unexpected insights.”
“I'm a seer, yes. Do you have a way to call him in? He's getting a bit closer to that current every time he loops.”
“Normally we'd flash a light at him,” Lilly said, “But I'm not sure he'd see it at this distance. He is out further than normal.”
Heather reached into her pocket and pulled out a small tube, two centimetres in diameter and five long. Once released from the clip on the end, a ring dangled from it on a thin cord. “Here, try this. Pull the string very firmly to start it, about half a meter, and then really don't look into the beam.”
“Laser?” Bob asked, accepting the device.
“No. Pocket-sized, reusable rescue beacon. It's very bright. He'll see it, don't worry.”
Bob gave a tentative pull on the string. It didn't budge.
“You need to pull so hard you think you'll break the string.” Heather said, “it always gives me a sore finger, that's why the concerned father gets to do it. Oh, the string needs rewinding by hand, which is quite fiddly, so pull really hard, please. It won't work unless you do.”
Bob did as instructed and found himself holding a little tube giving out as much light as several dozen magnesium flares.
“It's supposed to be visible from space during daylight if you turn the brightness to maximum. And it'll probably burn eyeballs, so let's not do that.” Heather said.
“Martian technology, I presume?” Lilly asked, shielding her eyes from the reflected light from the waves, “Do you think Ben has he noticed it yet?”
“Yes to both.” Heather replied. “It's a prototype, from our final year group project at university. And Bob, your son is probably blinking away the spots in front of his eyes, but he's full of curiosity. You can turn it off by putting the ring back in the base.”
“It's really powerful.” Bob commented. “It's some kind of chemical process?”
“Given Heather's course matter, I suspect not.” Lilly said, as another bit of information surfaced in her mind. “Atlantis is allowing production?”
“Not yet, it needs more work,” Heather admitted. “It's just too bright.”
“It was, wasn't it?” Matthew said. “Well Bob, how does it feel to have started what I strongly expect is a fusion reaction by muscle power?”
“My finger hurts, your highness, and I would tend to classify that as a dangerous weapon.”
“Oh it is,” Heather agreed. “A class-mate got a decimal point in the wrong place and we didn't realise until we'd put them together. At full power we've been sternly told it could cause eye damage at a hundred meters, not to mention start fires, so that's mechanically blocked off, the maximum setting is about an eighth what it could be able to put out.”
“But you still keep it in your pocket,” Lilly said.
“Not every day, no, but this morning it looked useful.” Heather replied. “As for dangerous weapons, I have my knife on my belt of course, just in case of sharks.”
“What do your protection officers think of that, your highness?” Bob asked prince Matthew. Knowing how he'd feel about someone near his client with a lethal blade, not to mention that fusion powered-search light.
“I think they regard Heather as several extra layers of defence.”
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“Eventually they will, I hope.” Heather said, “Right now they are... concerned. We'd need to ask them to know what about. It's not like I can read their thoughts from here, unlike some people we know.”
“But you can tell if people are tired, concerned, and so on?” Lilly asked.
“Yes. Or sick, or pregnant; in pain or in love. And if things are safe or useful or dangerous. Don't lean on that next railing too hard, for instance, or you might end up on your face in the sand.”
“And you don't consider it a secret at all?”
“I don't really want it broadcast, but I don't hide it either.” Heather laughed, “I wasn't exactly very good about keeping my mouth shut when I was little, so it's fairly well known in some circles internationally. For example that I told my parents Svetlana had meningitis in front of her. So, I guess one day it will be a subject that comes up in international broadcasts.”
“Oh? Fame is inevitable?” Lilly asked.
“Utterly unavoidable from where I'm standing,” Matthew said. “Heather is the youngest full member of the Academy that Atlantis has had for a long long time, plus of course she's going to be letting me bask in the light of her genius, while she does things like blow bubbles in the fabric of space-time and maybe move on from there to invent faster than light travel.”
“That's a long way off,” Heather said. “Maybe not even in my life-time.”
“Not so long ago,” Bob said, “everyone knew that mermaids were a myth and you couldn't get into space without a big rocket.”
“Almost everyone,” Heather corrected. “The Mer knew differently, and I'm informed that I told everyone in the room that Ruth Mars-speaker was a mermaid when I was about two. That was before Atlantis moved, so they didn't believe me.”
“You had your gift that young? That's... theologically interesting,” Bob said.
“God calls different people at different ages, and meets us where we are. My mum always told me I needed to say sorry to God as well as people when I did bad things or lied. And of course, I knew lying was a silly thing to do. Here comes your bold adventurer. Can I show him what I saw?”
“Of course.”
“What was that light, Dad?” Ben asked, running up the beach and wrapping his shivering body in his towel. “Some new ultra-torch?”
“Heather's emergency flare. Martian tech, and mind your manners.”
“Good morning, maam.” Ben said, and doing a double take on seeing the prince there, he stuttered “and good morning your highness.”
“Ben, do you know what a seer is?” Heather asked.
“Like Emilia Knifeteacher?” Ben asked, automatically looking at his mother.
“Let me show you why we thought you should come in,” Heather said, offering her hand. “That red means danger, bright means full of energy, blue means cold, blue-grey means tired.”
He accepted the image of himself, distinctly not full of energy, with cold tired arms. He'd known he'd been over-doing it; it seemed this woman with the impressive flare did too. He also saw the red current, that would have dragged him out to sea, and gulped. “Currents are dangerous,” he quoted.
“Sharks are dangerous, currents are dangerous, over-stressing your body is dangerous. Playing dolphin is fun, but getting caught in a current because you're too tired to swim out of it isn't.”
“Sorry,” he said.
“You lived, and you won't do it again, I hope.” Matthew said.
“No, your highness.”
“Now, look out at the water with your eyes,” Heather said continuing the lesson “and compare with what I see.”
“The current is where the water changes colour!”
“Look again, not exactly.”
“Oh. It's there before, under the water.”
“Yes. So if you see a change in water colour, you stay well away unless you know exactly where it's going, how fast, and so on. And remember that currents move and some change direction.”
“I will, maam.”
“Good. Now, get warm, your mother probably doesn't want to have to put you in the fridge to warm you up.”
He looked at her in confusion. “Is that some kind of treatment for hypothermia?”
“No, it was meant to be a joke. Speaking of which, Matthew, your protection officers are coming over.”
“Heather,” Matthew said, with a pained look “don't call crown officers a joke, it's not nice.”
“Oh, they aren't a joke. You'll see.”
“Sir, Maam.” they said, firmly, respectfully, and with their stunners half-drawn, “Could we have a quiet word?”
“Of course, officers,” Heather said, leading the confused Matthew to where they waited.
“The people you were talking to, highness...” one started, quietly. “I know they look like a pleasant couple, but...”
“They are Diplomatic Service,” Heather said. “Well, technically he's diplomatic protection.”
“Our wrist units say for both they are armed and dangerous, do not approach.”
“I am also armed and entirely dangerous when threatened,” Heather said. “And Matthew's profile probably says do not approach without due reason. I expect someone is playing a joke or you do not have clearance to know their roles.”
“Maam, we have one-alpha clearance.”
“Exactly,” Heather said.
“Your highness? Can you confirm?”
“I'm afraid I don't know them, although I vaguely remember their faces. Their answers were consistent with what Heather has said.” Matthew said.
“Procedures dictate we err on the side of caution, Sir, Maam.”
“Then can you please request confirmation that 'armed and dangerous, do not approach' means 'insult by interrupting prince's conversation with them with half-drawn stunners.'” Heather asked.
“That unusual device used to signal out to sea, maam...” the younger agent started.
“Is mine, and could be a blinding weapon, yes. Their son was about to get himself into a dangerous current.”
“We'll call headquarters,” the older agent said.
“Good idea,” Matthew said.
Two minutes later, an apologetic royal protection officer was showing Bob what his wrist unit had shown.
“Lilly?” Bob asked.
“Yes, dearest?” She asked all innocently.
“Again?”
“Not me this time, dear. I expect someone is being tested.”
[And educated,] Mystery Voice corrected. [Heather passed the test of does she listen to protection officers, Matthew gets half marks because he needed Heather to drag him away from your scintillating company, and the protection officers will get some more education about Heather's gift because they weren't listening. Just trying to keep everyone safe and up to speed.]
[And what about our romantic walk by the sea?] Matthew asked.
[You interrupted your romantic walk to talk to my friends Lilly and Bob, Matthew. I just tweaked things a tiny bit to see how you'd all react.]
“We love you too, Mystery,” Lilly said aloud, then asked “Romantic walk?”
“Out of several abortive attempts so far, I think this is the closest thing so far to a genuine date,” Matthew said, “do you agree, Heather?”
“Urm, yes.”
“I for one am glad you came this way,” Lilly said, looking at her son, who'd obviously recovered enough energy to try skimming stones off the top of waves.
“He's got a good aim,” Heather noticed.
“And a lot of energy, hence the swimming.”
“Well, Lilly, Bob, it's been nice to meet you,” Heather said, “But I think we'd better move on. I'm trying to build up my stamina under all this gravity.”
[Heather,] Mystery said, just to her, [Please consider Lilly and Bob as potential assistants for your project, on the international relations side, I mean. You don't need to decide now, of course.]
[You think it'll need someone in that role?]
[Depends how much time you want to spend shuttling from place to place, giving reports and trying to recruit people, rather than actually working on things.]
[Do they have any inkling of your plans?]
[None at all.]
[Good. Wait on the line a bit then,] Heather thought. “Lilly? Silly question for you.”
“Yes?”
“Mystery's just been interrupting me with thoughts of recruiting people. Any idea why you glow as a useful step to someone I need to talk to?”
“Urm, I'm pretty good at getting on with people.”
“I'd noticed that, but I think you know someone specific who'd be useful to my soon-to-be-starting project, and I need to meet. Can you think of someone who'd be interested in working on stretching our understanding of physics, or an expert in Atlantean micro-construction who wouldn't mind triggering a black hole on the way to understanding, or someone who knows how to stop a black hole if we accidentally trigger one, or even better tell me how to avoid making one in the first place when I'm trying to put things inside big bubbles in space-time. Micro-engineers, mathematicians, people with strange abilities to intuitively think in five or six dimensions and then actually able to explain them to the rest of us?”
“Sounds like a fun project,” Lilly said, “For some reason my brother springs to mind, but he works in a measurement lab doing something with the phase of photons if that makes any sense.”
“Bingo! Thank you, Lilly. He's the man. He's not civil service or something ultra-convenient like that is he?”
“No, as far as I know they mostly do quality control work for semiconductor manufacturers. The company's part of some big privately owned group with a head-office in Restoration. I forget the name.”
“GemSmith?”
“Yes, you know it?”
“I was talking to the owner not so many days ago.” The enormity hit her of just how complicated balancing all the different vested interests could end up being. [OK, Mystery, you're right, the project does need some kind of vested-interest balancer. All you need to do now is convince me it should be a career diplomat-spy from one of the governments involved.]
[Who are you calling a spy?]
[I know what I see, are you implying you don't know?]
[I know about Lilly's past.]
[Oh, that's all right then. I expect she's just keeping in practice. She's not disloyal.]
[I don't think anyone's ever accused Lilly of disloyalty. But sometimes the subject of her loyalty hasn't been what people expected.]
[Fair enough, now stop worrying.]
[You don't know her history.]
[I probably know more than you think. The Beautiful Peninsula; 'loyal agents' making faked asylum claims.]
[You shouldn't be old enough to able to remember that.]
[Some came to Mars.] Heather thought, then said “Lilly, Mystery's just reminded me... I think I know someone you went to school with, plus or minus a year or two. Now attending our Church on Mars, still very glad they don't need to look over their shoulder any more.”
“Someone I went to school with?” Lilly asked, shocked.
“You have the same twists and turns and convolutions in your past. This probably isn't the right place to talk, though.” Heather thought for a bit, “Rusting boxes in puddles.”
“And saboteur-pigeons damaging the roof?”
“Exactly.”
“Wow, it's a small world.”
“Solar system,” Heather corrected, “They managed to get themselves assigned to Mars.”
“That must have taken some doing,” Lilly said.
“I expect so. So, if both want me to make introductions, I will.”
“I'll think about it. Not all old memories are good ones.”
“I understand,” Heather said.
“He's a Christian?”
“She is, yes. Apparently became one on the flight out, having carefully arranged to travel on a different flight to the one she was booked for.”
“Good plan if you're planning to defect,” Lilly noted.
“Yes. I can't remember how she did it, either, most ways of missing your flight to Mars used to mean you needed a new ticket.”
“Ouch, sounds expensive.”
“Exactly. Oh, I remember!” Heather said, looking out to sea. “They'd issued her with a hard-copy ticket, and she forged herself a new one which told her to turn up for an earlier ship. When they said she wasn't on that ship, she accused them of wanting to make her miss her flight and charge her extra for her cargo. They had space and so rather than have her kicking up a stink they let her on.”
“Well that narrows it down.” Lilly said, also watching the waves. “Most of us weren't that good at that sort of forgery. I'd like to get in contact. If she doesn't believe I could become a Christian, tell her, 'the sack had a pig in it.'”
“She knows you as Lilly?”
“She does, yes. Now, stop keeping the second in line to the throne waiting, or I might get in trouble.”
“I'm just listening in,” Matthew said, “learning lots of new things about Heather.”
“As long as they're good.” Heather smiled, “I'll be in touch, Lilly.”
“Don't you think you ought to ask for my wrist unit number, or something?”
“What a strange idea,” Heather said, as though she'd never thought of doing such a thing. “Come on, Matthew, we've got a long way to go.”
----------------------------------------
“Why didn't you ask for Lilly's wrist unit number?” Matthew asked about five minutes later.
“Because I'd need to write it down, I don't have anything to write with, I'd rather not put it on my wrist unit right now, and I don't need to. I'm pretty sure that your body guards can give it to me, after all.”
“Why don't you want to put it on your wrist unit now?”
“Same reason I didn't want to say much to her about my friend; we were being observed.”
“What?”
“I'm pretty sure they don't have the technology to hear us at this distance, but lip reading isn't that difficult with a good enough lens. That's why Lilly and I were looking out to sea.”
“You didn't say.”
“No, but Lilly noticed me doing it, and decided I'd noticed something. I decided she was right.”
“But we don't need to take any other action?”
“We have. We've moved away from Bob and Lilly, and away from the camera-drone.”
“A camera drone?”
“Yes, journalistic. About half kilometer away. I wasn't sure if it was watching us or Bob and Lilly, but it did inform my decision about holding hands. Right now, we're out of sight of course.” They'd passed into an area of woodland as they'd reached the end of the beach. At the top of the hill they were now climbing there was grassland, with some sheep grazing on it.
“Does that mean you don't mind now?”
“It means that I wouldn't have minded earlier, but you're the one who knows what protocol dictates.”
“A journalistic photo drone at half a kilometer isn't exactly going to get high resolution pictures.”
“Not my every eyelash, no, but I think it probably raises the chances of our secret getting out.”
“I didn't think we were keeping it a secret. But it's not unusual for me to walk along here to talk to people.”
“No, but would it be unusual for you hold hands with them?” Heather asked.
“Good point.”
“So, do you want to bring tears to the eyes of thousands of teenage girls everywhere?”
“It's got to happen sometime,” he pointed out. “I don't mind.”
“Oh good, then you get to help me on this uneven ground.”
----------------------------------------
NEWS REPORT, THE ROYALIST. SATURDAY 23RD DECEMBER.
EXCLUSIVE Photos! Prince Matthew in love!
Eligible bachelor Prince Matthew, unexpectedly back from Atlantis, has been spotted walking hand in hand with the gorgeous Heather Findhorn-Bunting (daughter of Alice, our ambassador to Mars and Simon, the forcefield expert).
As far as we have been able to find out, this is Heather's first trip to planet Earth, and she's barely been here a week. Our exclusive footage shows his highness being the perfect gentleman helping her up a rocky slope, but did he let go of her hand? No, he didn't! Our subscribers can see what happened next inside!
If you think you've heard the name Heather Findhorn-Bunting before, you almost certainly weren't looking in society papers; the prince's girlfriend has recently shocked the international scientific world by tearing holes in every single theory on how the antigravity drive works in deep space, gaining her a place in the Atlantis Academy. Quite what her trick is, we don't know, but she's obviously got Prince Matthew floating on air!