Chapter 13 — Envisioning Lady Haldane
IF YOU’RE NEW HERE, WITH A PAID SUBSCRIPTION EARLIER VOLUMES AND CHAPTERS CAN BE DUG OUT OF THE SUBSTACK ARCHIVE, OR EARLIER VOLUMES CAN BE PURCHASED ON LINE:
VOLUME 1
VOLUME 2
VOLUME 3
VOLUME 4
VOLUME 5 is in press.
VOLUME 6, Chapter 13 continues:
~ 1 ~ Taking Aden Haldane’s arm, Miss Wilberforce said to him, “Aden, I recall that you were a very young lad when we first met. Your family were setting out from the Son’s House for a seaside vacation that day.”
Since that long-ago day, Aden had not seen Miss Wilberforce again until recently. And only recently had Malcolm Featherstone explained to him that, for three decades, Miss Wilberforce had been keeping the wolf from the Foundation’s door, thus incidentally keeping the door of the Son’s House open for Aden.
“I remember that day, Miss Wilberforce. My sisters were in a great stir to meet you! As I recall, they had envisioned you as a mysterious princess with a castle high in the Alps.”
“Ah, young women are magical beings of romance, are they not, Mr. Haldane?”
These words spoken by Miss Wilberforce as they were treading the well-worn footpath down to the village, suddenly swept Aden back a year in time, into his vision of an enchantress in the New City University Student Union. His Vision had stood for an eternal moment at a window, and the distant snow-capped mountains lay at her feet like pebbles in a stream.
“That day of our first meeting, Aden, was the day on which I decided to make the restoration and the keeping of the Son’s House one of my priorities.” Miss Wilberforce’s business-like voice was drifting into Aden’s ears from a distant eon.
To Rhoda’s ears, Yohanna’s voice came through their entwinement: “Aden Haldane has not yet touched the Elixir, dear sister—exhibiting a wise caution. …Rhoda! Are you working your charm on him again?”
No.
“It is happening. I sense it!”
Oh, Yohanna! So do I!
“We do owe him restitution for using him, Rhoda.”
We? It was my scheme to charm him.
“Rhoda dear, despite my occasional reluctance, I was then—and I am now—your willing accomplice. Look around you. I sense that Providence is offering you a way to serve justice.”
Rhoda heard herself then, in Miss Wilberforce’s voice: “You are now positioned, Aden Haldane, to lead the life of one of the last lettered English country gentlemen.” Was that the voice of Providence?
The words drew Aden back into the present moment, in which two women chatting on a small footbridge ahead of them on the path were now taking leave of each other. The older, a woman of more years than Miss Wilberforce’s, walked away from them on the other side of the stone bridge.
In the Persona of Miss Wilberforce, Rhoda had seen that the older woman was Elise Handke. Now she bit her lip, beholding in the young woman remaining on the bridge, the image of Aden’s Vision—whom she had played.
The Vision descended toward Aden from the arch of the small footbridge, the pebble mountains at her feet becoming the pebbles over which ran the living waters of the Abbey Brook. As she stepped onto the level path, the Vision shimmered, her flowing emerald velvet skirt and silky peasant-style blouse becoming the modest dress of a pleasant-looking country parson’s daughter.
~ ~ ~
Evangeline Sturridge was the only daughter of the Vicar of Marysville, and she was the last on Malcolm Featherstone’s list of young women suitable to be a bride for Aden. Until today, the matter of finding himself a bride had sat lightly in the back of Aden’s mind. The events of this day had brought it to the fore, and when Miss Wilberforce had taken his arm, he had determined to seek her advice in the matter.
Miss Wilberforce herself was stunned. She steadied herself, recalling that she had met Evangeline very recently when, with Mr. Quinn, she had been entertained by the Sturridges at the vicarage. It had been one of those occasional dinner visits by which she maintained her knowledge of current local affairs. Mrs. Sturridge, like the other citizens of Marysville, held Miss Wilberforce in awe, so she had been anxious to serve a fine enough meal to her illustrious guest, on rather meager resources. Evangeline had counseled her, “Mother, they say that Miss Wilberforce is so rich that you can’t possibly impress her. Let’s simply do as we do for our usual Sunday guests. Mr. Quinn has dined with us before, so we can serve a dinner that he likes. You can prepare his favorite roast duck, and I will make the dessert tarts.”
Miss Wilberforce had enjoyed that evening at the Sturridges' more than she had enjoyed any other of her recent Marysville visits. She had found Evangeline to be a fine conversationalist who seemed to be accurately informed about village affairs, especially local concerns regarding the approaching Son’s House hearing. Miss Wilberforce had seen that Evangeline was her father’s true confidante in matters of public affairs, and that she was much more level-headed than her mother. Evangeline had said that she did not think of herself as a candidate for the position of Lady Haldane. “Unlike some others,” she had said, “I can’t imagine marrying someone whom I don’t even know, only for his money and position.” The families of the two other candidates on Malcolm Featherstone’s list—Miss Claire and Miss Diana—were wealthy and ambitious, and each of the two girls was prepared to do exactly that which Evangeline could not imagine doing. The family of the Vicar of Marysville was neither wealthy nor ambitious, and Evangeline helped to make ends meet by working in a shop and serving as her father’s secretary. She knew of Claire’s and Diana’s ambitions. Who in Marysville did not? But she did not envy them and had not shared any gossip about them with Miss Wilberforce on that evening.
Mr. Quinn had thought of offering Evangeline a position in the Foundation, as an assistant and as understudy to Miss Pettibone. After Miss Wilberforce had met with Evangeline in the bosom of her family, he had sought Miss Wilberforce’s opinion of her suitability for this position.
Settling into Mr. Quinn's car after their pleasant evening at the vicarage, Miss Wilberforce had remarked to him, “Mr. Quinn, I do believe that Miss Evangeline Sturridge would be the perfect Lady Haldane. What is your opinion? You know the village better than I. I don’t see this as our concern, but it is certainly in the air.”
Mr. Quinn had been startled by her opinion, and then he had thought that her words might be a hyperbolic expression of approval for offering Evangeline the position on the Foundation staff. He asked, “Miss Wilberforce, has Malcolm raised the ‘Lady Haldane’ issue with you?”
“Yes. He has asked for my opinion of the candidates for Aden Haldane’s hand. In Miss Sturridge, I see the answer to both the Foundation’s need and Aden's.”
“Miss Wilberforce, Malcolm has shared with me the names on his list, and he has told me that, of the three candidates, he favors the two who belong to families who are among his more important clients. I believe that you have met them socially.”
“I have not met the young ladies, but I do know their families. Is the Vicar not a client of Malcolm’s?”
Mr. Quinn had returned Miss Wilberforce’s smile. “No, the Vicar’s affairs are not sufficiently weighty to generate much of a lawyer’s fee. In what light did Malcolm mention Evangeline to you?”
“Because he mentioned her as a candidate whom he considers distinctly inferior to either Miss Claire or Miss Diana, I think that he may not relish my opinion, now that I have one. I had told him that all three are suitable so far as I am concerned, and that truly the choice is Aden Haldane’s personal concern. Malcolm said that Aden had asked for counsel, as his experience with women, in this matter, is limited.” The Rhoda in Miss Wilberforce had been reminded of Aden’s proposal to her when she was the siren of his fantasy.
“I think that James included Miss Evangeline on his list in order to create the impression of impartiality.”
“I suppose, then, Mr. Quinn, that he has already given Aden his counsel on the choice of a bride.”
“I suspect that you are right; not only are their families his better clients, but—unlike Evangeline—Miss Claire and Miss Diana are both very much under the influence of Elizabeth. With either Claire or Diana in the Son’s House, Malcom and Elizabeth would acquire greater local prominence and influence.”
“Evangeline knows her own mind and heart too well for Elizebeth’s charms to sway her. We know Elizebeth quite well.”
“We? You and I?”
“I mean Miss Wilberforce’s ‘we’—my selves.”
Mr. Quinn had shaken his head in mild bemusement. “I have seen Ottilie Krüger descend from heaven, her aircraft surely about to crash and instead transforming into a vision of aviation’s future, landing smoothly before the Abbey. When I saw Ottilie, I thought, ‘there is the new Valkei—in a flight suit! What next?’ ‘Next’ was you, Miss Wilberforce, coming into being within a few days. And you have grown old with me over the years. After Ottilie’s Miss Wilberforce days, came Judith Ottokar’s. Now, Elise tells me that I am speaking with the third generation Miss Wilberforce—who continues to age gracefully.”
“Thank you for the compliment, Mr. Quinn.”
“Am I truly speaking with Miss Rhoda Knox?—who is, in truth, as young as Evangeline Sturridge?”
“You are indeed speaking with the third generation Miss Wilberforce.”
“You have remained, wonderfully, the same person over all of these years!”
“Well, we are the same Persona. It is Ottilie’s original Device, although I have made a few modifications so that now, even in sleep, I am Miss Wilberforce.”
“The deception is so perfect, it raises moral questions in my mind.”
“Personas exist only in service of the War Thing, Mr. Quinn.”
~ ~ ~
Miss Wilberforce watched Aden Haldane approaching the Vision of a siren whom Rhoda had conjured from Ottilie’s Laura Persona a year earlier. Rhoda had modified the Laura Design in order to accommodate Yohanna’s interaction with Fr. Aden, and Yohanna had just now declared that “we” owed Aden restitution for using him. Did that “we” include Ottilie, who had made the original Miss Wilberforce Persona?
Yohanna, we are enabling Aden Haldane, and we have placed Miss Evangeline Sturridge at some risk. Is the Circle taking advantage of us, or do I sense Ottilie’s positive influence?
“If Evangeline Sturridge is the young woman upon whom your attention is now focused, dear sister, she certainly would not be the Circle’s choice to be Aden Haldane’s spouse. Perhaps they no longer care about the Son’s House or about Aden; you have told me that in the vault was the original Preamble—but not the missing First Histories.”
The Circle’s guard may be down because Mortimer Kane is not here. Or, maybe Mortimer Kane has learned that the ‘First Histories’ are not to be found here. I think Ottilie must have learned that the ‘First Histories’ aren’t here, and her reason for setting a watch on the Son’s House was only to make it appear that the First Histories are here. Anyway, Dr. Kane will soon learn what has been found.
“Is it possible that the First Histories contain interesting information about the relationship between Thersa and Thiuderieks?”
Yes, Yohanna.
While his former temptress was conferring with Yohanna about the current War Thing situation, and the Persona of Miss Wilberforce was holding his arm, Aden Haldane was seeing the long, golden hair and the face, sweet beyond words, of his vision shimmer into the solid and wonderfully real, bright-eyed and intelligent Evangeline Sturridge.
Evangeline and Aden had never before set eyes on each other, and Evangeline’s first impression of Aden was favorable, for he was smiling, looking both honest and ardent.
Miss Wilberforce dropped Aden’s arm and stepped ahead of him to greet her recent acquaintance. “Evangeline Sturridge, I do not believe that you and Aden Haldane have been introduced.” After they had shaken hands with friendly warmth, Miss Wilberforce asked them, “Please walk with me to my cottage. It is not far, and we can have our tea in the garden before the hearing recommences. It is a lovely day for making new acquaintances.”
Aden Haldane offered his arm, which Evangeline graciously took. Together they set out with Miss Wilberforce, watched by curious villagers including members of Miss Claire's and Miss Diana's families.
~ ~ ~
Ricardo, Fr. Sigurd and Miss Pettibone remained gathered around the manuscript—the original Preamble of the First Histories. Fr. Sigurd was carefully packing his notebooks, pencils, and reference books back into a very large, old leather valise, of the kind lugged around by some professors, keeping their favorite references at hand.
Het walked up to Ricardo, asking, “Dr. Chavez, may I look at the manuscript for a moment?”
Miss Pettibone looked up suspiciously, but Ricardo lifted the manuscript carefully into Het’s hands. He explained, “Dr. Kerrigan, this manuscript is similar to the Telling Leaf; it’s another example of Inscription.”
Het held the manuscript up to the light and turned it over to look through its back side. Although—unlike the Telling Leaf— it revealed no moving images, Het saw the inscribed characters swaying very slightly, like leaves on a tree moved by a subtle breeze’s gentle breath. Het’s Old Goth was inadequate for making sense of it, but he was able to ascertain that the manuscript was written in Old Goth. He set down the manuscript on the table and ran his fingers over it. It felt to his fingers like the heavy parchment paper with a waxy coating that appeared to his eyes. Yet it had felt nearly weightless in his hand, when he was looking through it in the light, and it had appeared translucent then, like a very thin velum. “This is clearly some sort of Goth Device, Dr. Chavez, but it doesn't look old at all.”
"Fr. Sigurd and I think it is the oldest document of the Clan, written in the hand of Thiuderieks himself.”
“Dr. Chavez, you told us in California that there are few who accept the historicity of Clan claims; if your other old documents look as modern as this, I can see why. The letters in the mail pouch look far older than this.”
Miss Pettibone, who had been writing her final notes regarding the contents of the mail satchel, looked up at Dr. Kerrigan, nodding discreetly in agreement.
Fr. Sigurd said, after latching his valise, "When I was a young man, I came across a very old-looking document in Latin dating from around the year one thousand; it described the strange 'enchanted newness of the ancient Touchstone’. I studied the issue carefully and became convinced that, although the Touchstone looks new, it is in fact ancient. …Ricardo, I must go now to lunch with Abbot Fisher. I’m pleased that we agree about this manuscript. It has been a pleasure to see you again, and I expect to see you sooner or later at Home Ranch. I think the hearing will conclude quickly. Miss Pettibone, it has been good to work with you again; you have a masterful command of English. I know that Abbott Fisher will be interested, in future months, in your transcriptions of the satchel’s letters. Dr. Kerrigan, I am pleased to have met you, and I trust that you are enjoying your time in England."
Ricardo carefully slipped the Preamble into its coiled sleeve and offered it to Miss Pettibone, who smiled graciously as she received it into her hands. She said, "Miss Wilberforce will hold this for you, Dr. Chavez, until the Foundation receives your payment.”
"Miss Wilberforce?" asked Het, looking at Ricardo.
“Yes. After she receives my family’s payment to the Foundation, she will transfer custody to us, and the manuscript will be kept in Steuben's Institute for the foreseeable future.”
Ricardo began gathering up his things. Het asked him, "Does the Preamble state that this ‘Thiuderieks' agreed to make some sort of carriage for a god?"
"That's what it says.” Ricardo waited for Het to say more.
Het explained, "Esmeralda Montgomery told me that I might find the hearing interesting technically. Well, what I’m interested in is finding or making Devices that can prove my meta time theory, in scientific quarters. Herbert has told Esther and me a little about the Design of mobile Devices; he mentioned a mobile Device for a god as something like a standard example of an impossible Design, like achieving a perfect Carnot's cycle. Then, when I overheard Fr. Sigurd say something about an agreement between a god and a Maker, Herbert’s comment came to my mind, so I’m wondering what I can learn about mobile Devices to prove my theory.”
“Het, Rhoda has told me that both you and Esther show great aptitude for becoming Makers. I think that you two could gain some useful experience by making a simple mobile Device together—although maybe not one fit for a god. Have you fabricated any Devices yet?”
“No. We’re a lot like Fortran programming students who’ve done exercises, but haven’t written code that the instructor approves for being compiled.”
“A simple mobile Device might be a place to start.”
“How would we start?"
“Have you learned yet about making simple Descendant Devices?”
“Rhoda talked about that during our last lesson.”
“You could ask her to begin your Descendant lesson using as Archetypes the rear wheels of Herbert’s wagon’s original undercarriage. For whatever reason, the original undercarriage has been replaced by a modern suspension, but I’m sure the original undercarriage and wheels are to be found in the Workshop somewhere. They would serve as a foundation for a mobile Device.”
“How would that work?" Het asked, pleased to find Ricardo willing to talk.
“The wagon’s original undercarriage has sharp-edged wooden wheels connected to a thong-and-bent-wood suspension, with only a few metal ferrules connecting the wooden parts. It’s a little like a set of old wagon wheels. It looks rickety and unpromising, but a wagon equipped like this, however heavily laden, would be pulled slowly and effectively by a single draft animal—or by the Maker himself—over any terrain, however rough or steep. The weight is borne chiefly by the Powers of the Workshop, who—coordinating with the draft animal—eliminate all resistance and friction in his intended direction and so maintain his forward momentum. Wagon Devices were always parked on a slope in order to pick up some forward momentum at the start of a trek, thus maintaining the wagon’s motion up any slope.”
“Ricardo, that sounds pretty fanciful.”
“Well, Het, since you know modern physics, I can sketch out the principles. Let’s call our Makers’ art the science of Goth physics. Then we can say that Goth physics and modern physics intersect in the physical dimensions based on metric space-time—the three physical dimensions plus time. Here, the Second Law of Thermodynamics rules, while General relativity and Newton’s gravitational approximation capture the essence of working with momentum within the physical dimensions.”
“Ricardo, that corresponds to physical time in my theory.”
"To P?"
"Yes; and Q corresponds to the qualitative dimensions of meta time." Het wondered how much Rhoda talked shop with Ricardo.
"Ah. Rhoda has mentioned these terms to me. I guess dimensions of meta time correspond to what earlier physicists called ‘secondary qualities’—the ones that Galileo and his modern followers discounted because the Q dimensions are not precisely quantifiable in the way of measures of physical distance and time in which force is defined and measured.”
"That's right, Ricardo, but my theory does not assume that these dimensions are homogeneous like the three physical dimensions, only that they are distinct. I assume in my theory that there are five or more meta dimensions. Of course, they cannot be measured directly, but their changes are inferred indirectly from measurements on various properties of organisms."
Ricardo nodded. "Thinking of Goth physics in terms of modern physics, I'd call the dimensions of meta time by the Goth physics term ‘essential dimensions’." Ricardo had made the statement because he was wondering if Hans had discussed Goth physics with Het.
" ‘Goth physics’ sounds weird or old-fashioned to me, and ‘essential dimensions’ has a philosophical ring I don't like."
That response told Ricardo that Hans was apparently keeping his lessons to himself. He said, "Well, putting terminology aside, I can tell you that events in Q are the source of momentum in P."
Het blinked. Something like that had crossed his mind once or twice, but it had seemed preposterous. And even if it wasn't impossible, it was his idea. He had once spoken to Hans about it. They had been discussing meta time in relation to water flea life expectancy as a function of temperature. Het had said to Hans, “Well, meta time is a little more than water fleas’ heartbeat time, Hans. I have a vague notion that meta time might be an explanation for mass-energy in physics, but how that might work I have no idea.” Had Hans told Ricardo? How much did Hans know? Het said, “So, your Goth magic makes a wheeled Device move uphill."
"In a way, it does. But that's because a Device is centered in some meta time event determined by the Devices's Design. This event is the source of its momentum."
Was Ricardo implying that there could be events in meta time without involvement in physical time? Het set that idea aside to be discussed with Scott. He said, "Rhoda's lessons haven’t touched much on Design, and Herbert says it's not so important."
"That's largely true with Descendent Devices, Het, because Descendants inherit some aspects of the Archetype's Design, so mostly, the Design work has been done. That's why I was saying you could fabricate a simple mobile Device using the Wheeled Workshop's undercarriage."
"Okay; but you said the wheels and axle are made of wood. Is that part of the Design?"
“The Device’s wheels are made of wood, because wood moves in more essential dimensions than do manufactured metal and organic synthetics. To really understand that, you need to fabricate a beginner’s wheel-and-suspension Device.”
Het felt a suspicion that Ricardo was blowing smoke in his eyes, but he decided to play along. “What sort of elementary mobile device can we make?”
“You can fabricate a small Descendant of the rear wheels of the undercarriage with its suspension, as a rickshaw-like Device. The Design for a classroom Descendent Device is relatively simple. Frame the Design to work on a particular rough surface, like the arroyo that runs past the Turret at the University, carrying one person up and down within one day. Using Herbert’s knowledge, you can probably fabricate a Device that you can pull, and in which Esther can sit as the load.”
Does Ricardo suspect that Herbert knows more that he lets on? But if we can actually make this thing, can I get Esther to pull me?
Esmeralda had left the parlor of the Son’s House. Aden had left, and Ricardo, too, had packed up and left. Het looked around at the thinning crowd where Mr. Quinn and Clarence were encouraging people to return to the village, where the hearing was to recommence after the lunch hour was over. The staff of the Son’s House’s had been overwhelmed by the sudden surge of people, and they were happy to take charge again.
A boy of twelve or thirteen burst into the parlor and was directed to Het. Breathlessly, the boy said, “Dr. Kerrigan, sir, Dr. Kane wishes to speak with you at once on the telephone in Mr. Featherstone’s office.”
“Where is that?”
“I will show you, sir. Come with me.”
~ 2 ~ “Well, dear, I’m glad this jaunt has proven to be technically interesting for you. Thank you for speaking with Mort on the telephone. If you hadn’t talked with him, he might have been highly displeased with me.” Esmeralda was sipping wine in the mild evening air on the balcony of their bed and breakfast suite. Het scowled at the English landscape. “Are you brooding?” Esmeralda asked. “Perhaps Lady Haldane would not have been such a bad part for me; this village would be little different from the campus, as my playground—except that everyone knows everyone else too well. On the campus, there is a gratifying turnover of playmates, and so there are always ripe pickings.”
“For chrissake, EZ, is that all you think about?”
“You are brooding. Don’t you think, Het, that I, too, feel that this pudding we’re in may be even thicker than we thought last night?”
“So?”
“When we don’t know everything, we have to live with our handicaps and play to our strengths.”
“And keep playing at all costs?”
“Of course. …We’re being watched from out there. It thrills me to be the focus of scandalized eyes."
“Okay, I’m happy to add to your thrill, EZ. Speaking of such things: Was Kane scandalized by not having been informed about the claimants to ownership? From me, he wanted only to hear about my conversation with Ricardo.”
“He was only mildly annoyed, and he said he should have expected no less of bumbling Fr. Sigurd."
"I learned that Fr. Sigurd put his letter to Kane into the monks’ mail, which goes out only once a week.”
“Mort told me that he and Fr. Sigurd had agreed (Don’t you think it’s funny, Het, that they’re such chums?) that the Son’s House was simply the last place to search for the First Histories. He had searched the Son’s House when we visited with Aden, so he knew there was little evidence to suggest that the First Histories manuscript was hidden there. So, he sent me. I brought you along for fun, but he was not pleased that I’d stolen his advisor. So then I suggested that maybe his advisor had learned something of value from Dr. Chavez, and, right away, he wanted to talk with you. I guess you did learn something that he wanted to hear.”
“Mort told me I had picked up more interesting news than he would have, in my place, and he told me, ’Now, I’m glad EZ stole you.’”
“So, what did Dr. Chavez say to you?”
“I think he gave me a first lesson on how to make a chariot for a god. I’m sure now that a chariot for a god is exactly what Dr. Kane wants, too.”
“Your Friend, the god?”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. If it’s really true, I don’t get it.”
When she had said, “Your Friend,” Esmeralda had remembered hearing ‘her voice’ speaking again earlier that day, saying to her, “What sharp eyes you have, dearie.” Before that, she had not heard it since she had begun her rejuvenation treatment, although before the treatment, her voice had talked to her almost daily.
“Het, maybe it’s all about Aztec gold—lots of it. What if First Histories is really code for 'treasure map’, and Aden has secretly gotten it first. Maybe the gold is stashed all over England.”
“That actually makes sense! Rhoda’s family has ruling class Aztec blood, and Ricardo knows their bloody language, and Ricardo and Aden are both friendly with Steuben. They could all be in it together. Maybe the crap about 'Goth magic' that Ricardo told me and that I repeated to Mort, was some coded message about the price of gold.” Het recalled then what his mother had told him about his father, Oscar—that he was a high-class messenger between powerful people who were opposed to each other. He did not savor the comparison; he turned his mind away from it.
“But, Het, if Miss Knox and Dr. Chavez are Aztecs, won’t they want to get the gold back to their temple in Mexico?”
“Well, gold makes more sense than gods to me, but I wouldn’t assume that they’re doing it for Mexico. How did their families get all the money they’ve got?”
“But where does all this Maker stuff fit in?”
“Finding gold is one thing, EZ; making weapons is another, and both make you rich. I’ve learned from Rhoda’s lessons that the Makers’ art is only a weird way to do super high-tech stuff."
"Yes, Het dear. Making things is not my hobby, so I’ve been letting it pass, but now I'm interested. So I’m going to share with you a little more of what I know about Miss Okubo and Miss Knox. I told you that I saw the two of them casting a spell on Aden. Do you suppose he's still under it? Anyway, on the day I asked you to join me in this little adventure, I collided with Miss Okubo on that spiral staircase in the Turret. She saved me from a bad fall, and she identified herself as a witchdoctor. Then, she gave me a magic mirror (which I think that she, herself, had made), and she also offered to get me a ride in Rhoda’s special airplane—not the puddle jumper you've been in. What do you honestly think of that?"
Het was silent for a few moments. Then he said, ”That's news. Yohanna is also the girlfriend of my best student at the university—Hans Beckerath. She and Rhoda are friends, and I think they met at the University. Rhoda gave my mother a free ride in her Greased Lightning, and Mom said that it was like a flight through Hell."
“That sounds exciting! And Yohanna said that if I thought colliding with her was fun, flying with Rhoda would be even more thrilling."
"How did this collision happen?"
"Remember, Het, when you passed me in Kane's office and noticed my new look?"
“Yeah, I remember."
“Well, minutes after that, Kane asked me to take his place at Aden's hearing, and to bring a companion if I wanted. I was delighted, and I went tripping down that spiral staircases for the first time ever, instead of using the elevator. I went down those steps as fast as I could, watching my feet moving faster than they had since I was a teenager, and I collided with Yohanna, who was looking out the windows as she ran up. I would have tumbled all the way down those stone steps if she hadn't grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me back."
"I used those stairs once, EZ. They seemed medieval—narrow, and with no rails, so an enemy would have to fight his way up if he were besieging the Turret. Kane said it's a touch of historic realism. Those narrow windows even have beveled sides, so defenders would have an advantage, shooting arrows down on besiegers. I'm surprised you didn't both go tumbling down the stairs; there's no handhold."
"Well, when she grabbed me she spun me around, and my purse hit the wall, cracking my mirror. Here’s the one she gave me to replace it.” Esmerelda drew from her purse the mirror that Yohanna had given to her. "She was very apologetic, and she said I don't have to be a witchdoctor to use it. I wonder if Rhoda Knox is a witchdoctor, too. The mirror is magic: I can see the back of my head in the side mirrors." She turned her back to Het. "Touch the back of my head. Okay, I see your left hand, two fingers out. Now pull it away slowly until it’s not touching me. It's gone!" She reached back quickly and grabbed Het’s hand. “Now I can see your hand again, even though you're not touching my hair."
"Let me see it!"
"Promise to give it back? The way Yohanna said it was for me, I suspect it might not work for you, Het.”
"I promise. What would I do with a vanity mirror?"
"Give it to Esther, maybe?"
"No way; I don't know where she fits into this business any more.”
"Well, I’m sure she’ll still fit into your bed.” Esmeralda gave him the mirror, which she had snapped shut. "Be careful, dear; it's a witchdoctor's work."
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to A TALE OF TWO TIMES to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.