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The Clocks
Story 1 - Birds of a Feather

Story 1 - Birds of a Feather

Ptica was, for once, grateful for the sound-dampening device she needed to wear. Because of it, none of the students could see the fangs that she bared as she smiled at them. She wanted them cooperative, and somewhat intimidated, not terrified.

"I welcome you to the Applied Sociology Mini-Seminars. As this series is available only as an elective, and every one of you had to shuffle your schedules to make room for it, I shall forego my usual attempts to scare away the uninterested and unmotivated. Instead I shall, just for today mind you, express my personal satisfaction and pleasure that you have chosen to attend."

She darted her head to the side and fixed her gaze on one particular student, "That isn't for public distribution. Just this once the gossip mill needs to remain silent...if you take my meaning Xiland."

Seeing frantic motions of agreement from the being in question, she turned back to the rest of the class and fluffed her feathers.

"The purpose of these seminars is simple. They exist to provide you with a more thorough understanding of a number of situations that you were exposed to in App. Soc. VII and VIII. Thus far we've barely scratched the surface of the culture of The City of The Bells. These seminars will provide you with more background and also a look at what happened prior to and after the material you saw in the regular classes.

"As I despise wasting time, I shall stop my introduction there. You've all read the introductory material, otherwise you wouldn't be here. So let's begin with Miranda Donetti back when she was 13 and still Miranda Kastner. It's a reasonable starting point...and I must admit that the title of this segment tickles my fancy."

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At age 13 Miranda Kastner was already taller than most adults. With some makeup help from her older sister Anna, and by borrowing her clothes, they could pass as twins, even though Anna was already 17. Anna had taken advantage of this on numerous occasions when she was the target of overly amorous and, to be frank, greedy men who were interested in marrying the family money, with her as, at best, a distant afterthought.

What had surprised and depressed Miranda the most was that none of them knew that Anna didn't have a twin. You'd think that someone wanting to marry into the family would have at least researched how many children there were and their ages. While going with Anna to various parties and wedding receptions was, at best, boring, she dearly loved her sister and would have done anything to avoid seeing her in pain.

One natural consequence of all this was that she herself had become soured toward the entire concept of marriage. She'd decided that she'd very much prefer to remain unmarried if all she had to choose from were men as shallow as those chasing after her sister. In the ensuing years, she saw nothing that gave even the slightest nudge to her assessment.

She was almost 17 when something at the edges of her awareness began to gnaw at her, like a minor itch you can't quite reach but is not, as of yet, bad enough that you're going to take yourself off to someplace private so you can get at it. Eventually she noticed that whatever it was happened only at parties somehow involving the Donetti family. That was when she began counting.

Five months later, after adding up all the parties that they'd attended, which were far too many as far as she was concerned, she realized that the percentage of those with members of the Donetti family present, or thrown by them, had gradually grown to be almost 80% of the total. That was when she came to the conclusion that, which she felt was brilliant of her at the time, there was something about that particular family that was either attractive to her sister, or, perhaps, of value to her family in some way. She almost dislocated her shoulder from patting herself on the back when she realized that it might just be both.

That, of course, left her with a tiny problem. Now that she'd figured out the connection, what was she going to do about it? After due deliberation, she decided to ask the person most likely to be able to shed light on her problem.

(No, she didn't ask her sister. That would have made much too much sense, and Miranda didn't have any yet.)

She decided to ask her parents. She reasoned that, as her father was the designer and her mother the master crafter at their store, Journey's End, they might know something useful considering their daily contact with the nobility and more prominent citizens of The City. (And anyone who was filthy rich, but we won't go there during this class.)

Miranda waited till one evening when Anna was out with friends then approached her parents with her question. For her, at that time, she was rather subtle. She flopped herself into a chair across the room from her parents and said, "Anna keeps dragging me to parties where the Donetti's are hanging out. You know what's going on?"

She was rather proud of herself. She didn't swear even once in either sentence.

Her parents exchanged a glance and nodded slightly at each other. Miranda had confirmed their suspicions. Now all they had to do was keep her from fouling things up. They needed a distraction of some sort.

Her father had a sudden inspiration. "That's a good question, but, sad to say, not one that we can answer right now."

As Manda started to stand, in preparation for stomping her way out of the room, her mother added, "But there may well be a way for you to find out."

Miranda started to open her mouth to answer, but her mother acted first. She shook her head, as if thinking to herself. "No.... That won't work. You aren't patient enough for something like that."

Her father nodded his agreement. "I'm afraid you're right Jo. We're going to have to think of something else."

Just before she blurted out that she could too be patient, Miranda realized that doing so would instantly disprove her statement. Difficult as it was, she sat carefully and composed herself. It was about as easy as pulling an old rusty nail with her teeth, but she persevered. "Mother. Father. I believe that I am capable of being just as patient as is necessary when it comes to helping my sister. Please inform me of what it is you are considering."

She was very proud of herself. The expressions on her parent's faces were clear evidence that her desire to destroy something rather than sit there and act "ladylike" hadn't shown.

(Yes, yes. I know. You're wondering how a girl who was the personification of the word "tomboy" or perhaps "cataclysmic force of nature" was able to keep her sister company at so many parties without drawing undue attention with her speech and behaviors. I'll even give you a serious answer. When she went out with her sister, she assumed the persona of someone the age she appeared to be. It wasn't entirely conscious. It simply felt to her that that's the way it ought to be.

Then, as now, the one thing paramount in her life was organization. She was happiest when everything fit in the appropriate boxes. As a consequence, when she pretended to be Anna's twin, her "this is how a young woman nearly 20 behaves at a formal party" box was opened and she put on that persona for the evening.)

Her mother drawled, "Well.... It might work."

Turning to Ignatius she asked, "What do you think dear? Should we give it a try?"

He responded with, "I suppose that if Manda is certain that she can do it..."

Miranda clenched her teeth together to avoid shouting. She managed to respond with only a nod.

Her parents exchanged another glance and the tiniest hint of a smile formed on each of their faces. They'd sucked her in. Now to see how things worked out.

Josephine smiled and nodded at her daughter. "Very well dear. It's probably worth a try. What it comes down to is this. Your sister is probably involved with something that has to do with the older Donetti son RIchard. He's only a few months older than she is, so that's likely.

"It is, however, unlikely that you'll be able to find anything out from him directly, but you might have some success with his younger brother Robert. He's close to your age, just a few months more than a year older than you are. As luck would have it, there're to be a series of weekly conferences discussing ways to better organize city services in the various districts. There are problems with everything from making sure that there's enough lamp oil for the street lights at night to properly scheduling street repairs so as to disrupt commerce and tourism as little as possible.

"Since all these projects require funds, and the Donetti's are in the business of providing money to people, Robert is being sent there to see if any useful connections can be made. If you attended also, and happened to run into him, I'm sure you could figure out something to talk about. If you're able to do that regularly, you might be able to slip in a question about Anna now and then."

Her mother smiled at her again. "How does that sound dear?"

Miranda wasn't necessarily all that interested in The City as a whole, but when she heard that the meetings were to be about getting things organized properly, her ears perked up. It didn't really matter to her what was being organized. Organizing things meant that there were fewer surprises in life, and that made things better. That part of her was absolutely true to the German side of her heritage, and it was something she could heartily agree with. Perhaps this wouldn't be so bad after all.

The first meeting was just three days later, on Friday. Her mother had persuaded her that it might be problematic if she made herself up to look like she were in her early 20's when the person she needed to connect to was not quite 18. What they came up with was a more mature appearance for her face, but with clothing that definitely wouldn't be worn by someone over 18, 19 at the most.

When she arrived that evening, she was manifesting her 20's personality. She'd figured that if she stomped in as her usual self she'd draw too much attention of the unwanted kind. Once inside the building, she slipped off to the side and against a wall so as to be less obtrusive.

When it was time to begin, people were still milling around, chatting, looking for seats, and generally not being very organized, which irritated Manda no end. She was of a mind to leave, but her need to obtain information for her sister compelled her to stay in spite of her personal desires. What was left to do was figure out where this Robert Donetti was. Given his age, it was likely that he'd be the youngest person here besides herself, so she stood on her toes and tried to see around the people in front of her.

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"My. You're taller than I'd thought. It must be nice to be able to see over people like that, though I can't for the life of me figure out why you're so interested in all these boring old fogies."

Manda muttered, "Ya got that right buddy," before she belatedly realized that she just might want to see who she was talking to.

She twisted to her right, still up on her toes, and saw a young man of about her own age. He was a bit taller than average, being about 173 cm, which made him only 10 cm shorter than she was when she was standing normally.

All she managed to say once she saw him was, "Oh."

He responded in kind, "'Oh' yourself. Hi there. I'm Robert Donetti. I've seen you at a few parties with your sister Anna. At least I'm pretty sure that you're you. Somehow you look older and younger all at once."

Manda noticed that it was a rather nice laugh. "Well, I don't need ta look old enough to be her twin here, so I sorta settled in the middle. Ya see?"

"Not really, but I'll take your word for it. You sound different too."

OOPS! She's slipped out of her persona. It was too late to switch back, so she settled for just trying not to cuss while she was talking to him.

"Well, ya see, when I'm pretending ta be her twin and am trying to keep all those money-grubbing as...ah, those overly attentive gentlemen away, I need to match how she looks and sounds. Let me tell ya, it's hard work too!"

Robert noticed that her harsh glare softened as she added, "But I'd do anything to protect her. She deserves much more than one of that lot."

He smiled up at her. "If you don't mind, it'd be easier to talk to you if you got down off your toes. I'm afraid I'll get a crick in my neck if I have to keep looking up that far."

Manda flopped down with a jerk. "Ah. Yeah. I 'spose you're right."

She turned to fully face him. "Now that I think of it, I didn't get yer name. Who in he..ah, who did you say you are?"

Robert covered his mouth with his hand and managed to turn his laugh into a coughing fit. Miranda was nothing at all like he'd imagined. Fortunately, that was good. He was sick and tired of all the girls with fancy clothes and empty heads that were only interested in him because of his money, or weren't interested at all but were after him because their parents sicced them on him like a foxhound after a fox.

This girl was completely different. It was evident that if she were truly relaxed, she'd be cussing up a storm.

Fortunately it was also evident that she was quite able to speak formally at a "society" function if she had to, which probably meant that in her normal life she just didn't give a damn.

Once it was clear that Anna and his brother Richard were making a match of it, Anna had teased him by suggesting that he pursue her younger sister. She SAID it was because she found the idea of a double wedding amusing. That's when Dick had chimed in and said that it would cost a lot less that way too.

After that they'd glanced at each other and doubled over laughing.

Robert hadn't been fooled for a second. Both of them had been serious. He suspected that Anna's relationship with Miranda was in truth almost that of a twin, no matter that they were nearly five years apart in age. That could easily explain why she wanted him to marry Miranda. They'd be able to see each other frequently if it worked out that way. If they married men from different families, who knew how often they'd be able to meet? He wondered idly if maybe they'd been meant to BE twins but something had happened to prevent it.

Heh. Not that there was any way to find out for sure. It probably didn't matter. He wasn't about to marry someone just because their older siblings thought it would be a good idea. Much as he hated to do it, he had to admit that, even with the little he'd seen of her real self today, she was at the very least intriguing. The question in his mind was simple. Was she intriguing enough that he'd enjoy being with her for the rest of his life?

Was he in love with her? Absolutely not! She did tick a few of his boxes though. Unlike the vast majority of men, he rather enjoyed being with a woman who was taller than he was. Her dark skin with that cap of curly black hair was quite exotic too, especially when you included the streak of silver at her hairline on the left.

The way she was dressed said a lot about her too. He didn't know the numbers, but the profits from Journey's End would easily have allowed her to buy anything she wanted. It appeared that what she wanted was stylish without being ostentatious. The cut of her clothes was a bit unusual, but they matched her tall frame in a way that ordinary clothing wouldn't.

Again, she could have been wearing one or even many pieces of exquisite jewelry, even if they were just loans from her parents in order to advertise their shop. Instead she had a thin, gold-chain necklace with an amethyst pendant, and two simple loop earrings.

His musing was interrupted by her rasping, "My God! Can't they get this thing started at least somewhere near the appointed time? I presumed that the entire purpose of this was predicated on the idea of getting things better organized, not to increase the entropy of The City."

Robert was shocked. Her vocabulary just then was far better than most people he knew. His eyes narrowed as he contemplated the idea that her rough, younger-sounding self might be just as much of an act as what he'd seen at the parties.

All of a sudden a mischievous side of himself that he hadn't been aware of, or at least had never admitted to - even to himself - jumped out and took control.

He took Miranda by the elbow and steered her to the front of the hall. As they moved forward he whispered out the side of his mouth, "Since they won't get the party started, what say we start the ball rolling. Maybe if we organize the organization meeting, something useful will get done."

Manda had been about to blurt out something, you know, like: "What the hell are you doing?" Or maybe, "Let go of me you bloody mule!"

However, that all changed when he started talking about organizing the organizing. Not only did it tickle her fancy, it appealed to her true self. By the time they got to the raised dais at the front, she found herself looking forward to...whatever.

Somehow, by unspoken agreement, they tag-teamed the crowd.

Robert began by raising his arms and his voice, "Settle down. Settle down. We need to get this going if we're all going to get home in time to get up for work in the morning without being groggy."

Then Manda followed up, "We're here tonight to discuss the problem of street-lamps burning out too soon, either just before dawn or, even worse, in the middle of the night when they're needed most."

Robert's turn now. "Before we make any decisions we're going to need some records to review."

Manda called out, "So will those who have the records of how much oil is purchased, what kinds of lamps are being used, how the oil is being allocated, how many lamplighters there are, and what time of day in the various seasons, and under what weather conditions the lamps are used, please come forward and make their presentations?"

As the various individuals came forth, either Miranda or Robert would pluck their documents out of their hands and read the pertinent information to the crowd, thus circumventing the total stupor those attending would have been in if those providing the information had read their reports in full.

Once they were finished, there was no doubt that the people responsible were not working together but were rather guessing what the others would need.

At that point Miranda shouted, "Who here has extremely good handwriting? If we're going to make a proper report to Duke Stavros, he needs to be able to read it."

A young woman of about Miranda and Robert's age raised her hand and came forward. "I can do that for you."

She looked around the room, as if searching for a specific person. "Do you suppose that someone can find me a chair, table, pen, ink, and paper?"

The owner of the hall paled as the girl pulled back her hood of her cloak. Within three minutes the appropriate items appeared before her, having been hurriedly brought by the owner and three of his staff.

"Will this suffice La..."

He was quickly cut off. "Thank you very much. These will do nicely."

She turned to a perplexed Miranda and Robert. Each was thinking the same thing, "Who is this person that the owner of the hall treats her with such deference?" Both of them knew him, or of him by his reputation. He was known to be absolutely honest but rather prickly. He'd give you exactly the services you paid for and not a scant thing more.

Lifting her pen she said, "I'm ready. Please proceed."

They shook themselves then began. Each recited the pertinent points regarding bottlenecks, and their proposals for ameliorating them. When they finished, they asked their scribe to read them back to the people in the hall, "To make sure that everything has been properly covered."

Once she had done so, Miranda asked, "Are there any corrections?"

Robert waited a few seconds then announced, "Thank you for coming and for your participation. I think that we have begun this series of meetings quite well. We'll make sure that this report reaches Duke Stavros."

Miranda finished with, "We'll look forward to seeing you next week. The topic to be discussed then will be how to ensure that street repairs are done properly and in a timely manner so as to cause the least possible interruption of commerce. Goodnight to you all, and fare you well."

Robert and Miranda turned to each other, grinned, and shook hands. Not only were they finished, but they'd managed to get it all done in only an hour. Boredom successfully prevented!

That was when Miranda asked, "Ah. Robert. Tell me. How are we going to get the report to the Duke? I don't know anyone at The Residence."

"Oops. Neither do I. Do you suppose that anyone is still here who can do it?"

A voice full of humor came from behind them, "Oh, I think I can take care of that for you."

They turned around and beheld their scribe.

"Oh, that'd be real good on ya. Ya already saved us. I'm afraid that my writing isn't all that good. In fact, it sucks!"

Robert added, "I agree. You've been a godsend.

"Oh. I should introduce myself. I'm Robert Donetti and my enigmatic companion here is Miranda Do...I mean Kastner. Might we know your name?"

"I'm pleased to meet you. I'm even more pleased that you took over and actually got something done. I was afraid that I'd have to stand around for two or three hours and then report back that nothing of any worth happened, just like all the meetings last year.

"I'm Henrietta Bulambo."

Instantly Miranda fell into an elegant curtsey that no princess would be ashamed of.

Robert likewise bowed impeccably.

Henrietta's response was barely controlled laughter. "You two are a most interesting study in contrasts. I do believe that I shall make an effort to become better acquainted with both of you, starting right now."

She grinned up at them. Way up. (She had already reached her full height at only 151 cm.) "Since you came to this meeting in the first place, and since you two have managed to save us all so much time, you must still have at least an hour or two free. So, here."

She shoved her notes at Robert who automatically took them. Then she strode between them and hooked one of her arms through Manda's right and the other through Robert's left.

"Let's go."

"Ah, where are we going Lady Henrietta?"

"Look you, I get way too much of that 'Lady Henrietta' crap already. It's gotten so bad that I feel like gagging when I hear it. Whenever we're alone like this from now on, you're both going to call me 'Dot'. That's been my nickname forever. I'm called that 'cause my second name is Dorothy.

"As for where we're going, we're going up to The Residence. We need to deliver these notes to my father. Then the four of us are going to have a good, long chat."

Miranda and Robert exchanged puzzled glances over Henrietta's head. A chat? About what?

Henrietta hadn't seen their exchange and continued merrily, "Thank you for volunteering to work as my agents in The City. One day, when I'm Duchess, I'm going to need solid advisors my own age. If we start now, you two will do admirably by then. Besides I also need a few real friends, instead of people pretending just so they can get something out of me."

That statement was met by a moment of stunned silence, followed by an echo from either side of her, "Damn, you sure got that right!"

The three of them exchanged glances then burst out laughing. From there they proceeded up the hill to The Residence.

Miranda never did get around to investigating Richard. She was far too busy, both with working with Henrietta and with spending the rest of her free time with Robert.

Anna and Richard did indeed have their desire for a double wedding granted, and, when Miranda's parents were seen to be smothering giggles instead of tears throughout the reception, all those who noticed wrote it off as due to nerves.