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20th July 08, 03:02 PM
#1
Hamish's expression was interesting.
It dawned on me that although in this reality there had been no Great War, nor any of the subsequent difficulties, there had also been none of the alterations in the position of women in society. The Captain, who was pretending to read one of the larger journals looked at me over the top of it and raised an eyebrow.
I was distracted for a moment - the hours I have spent trying to make my eyebrows work independently to achieve just that result.
The man in black - who was some sort of policeman - cleared his throat. 'I expect that the ladies will be of great help to us, we will have a great deal to organise, and there is nothing like the fair sex to see that everything gets done.' He had retained his black leather hat, and as he nodded in my direction and the wide brim partly eclipsed his face, he winked at me.
From this distance in time it is difficult to remember those first hours of being with multiple versions of myself. As an avid reader of science fiction in my youth I had, on a philosophical level, already considered all sorts of eventualities which had become real experiences.
I can only remember that it was not at all disconcerting, and perhaps it gave me some insight into what separated twins experience on being reunited.
I was rather surprised to see that all three of the men had silver hair, though the copper had a beard which still retained some darker hairs. It was logical, as my - our - father's hair had turned silver very early on. They were very alike - rather more alike than we three women. Apart from the beard the three men looked identical - had they exchanged clothing they would have been distinguishable only by their accents. The civil servant had good crystal vowels, the copper must have lived in the Midlands longer than I did, and the man in DPM was a part time soldier and full time chemistry teacher, with a northern accent.
We were saved from what might have been a petulant protest by myself as just them there was a tap at the door, and we were invited to go to take lunch.
The woman wore brown garments, a just above ankle length sack like dress with sleeves to the elbow. A plain white cap and apron indicated her position in the household was fairly low - I soon learned to read the hierarchy of caps and aprons. She came in and curtsied to Hamish, which we soon came to realise was entirely normal.
We went out through the lower cellar then up into the ground floor of the House. There was a room next to the kitchen where we could wash our hands before eating, and as I was the first to do this, I went into the kitchen - first of all to be nosy, and secondly to unpack my lunch, which I had forgotten about until them.
There were some twenty rather elderly women around, and they soon came to look at what I had placed on the long wooden kitchen table and exclaim over the different foods.
'Strawberries! I haven't seen strawberries in thirty years.'
'Do you not grow them here?' I inquired.
'Grow them? It is not allowed to grow anything.'
'There are no plants, anyway, so we could not even if we dare.'
'Well - if I scrape the seeds off these, then there could be plants - and if they were grown in the walled garden - who would know?'
They seemed unable to comprehend the concept of disobedience.
I quickly removed seeds from the berries, and gave the rather mangled remains to the women. There was about half a berry each, but they exclaimed over them, and a couple were moved to tears.
The housekeeper recollected the meal, and chivvied the staff back to the serving of it, and to the washing up from a meal already eaten - the staff ate earlier than the gentlemen, and I was encouraged to go into the dining room to join them and the others of myself so we could be served.
There were five men in the Committee to Overthrow Fashion Furs, as we came to call them. They were all related, for it suited Fashion Furs to deal with people who had obligations to eachother. With the loss of men in the hunting it was necessary for there to be a clan system, with older men and survivors as the heads of increasingly large groups of wives, widows and children.
We sat down to eat what was possibly the worst meal I'd eaten in my life up to that point.
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21st July 08, 04:53 AM
#2
In the afternoon we returned to the underground room and the members of the committee told us of the various rebellions which had occurred, and of which they had some knowledge, over the last one hundred years.
We learned that in revenge for their uprisings entire nations and races had been removed to other realities, to places where Humans had died out. As far as they knew, on this version of the planet everyone had brown hair and brown eyes with a fairly light skin.
In the New World the native Americans hunted various types and colours of buffalo, deer and bear, Africa teemed with fur bearing creatures, as was probably the case in places further East - but they were a closed book to the Committee, places such as Australia and Japan were as remote as the far side of the moon.
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21st July 08, 03:18 PM
#3
As the afternoon wore on, and we became more dispirited, I asked about the method used to transport the people away, and presumably bring us here.
They looked at the quiet one of the Committee.
'They do not talk about the equipment used to open the doorways between the worlds, not in front of Others.'
He put in the capital letter to give it significance.
'However, we have managed to gather some intelligence about it. We have even managed to gain access to it and so bring you here, though I am sorry that, in order to be certain of finding suitable men for our purpose, we also brought you ladies. It could not be helped and we do apologise for it.'
'I take it that we will not be able to return home unless we succeed in this venture.'
There was an awkward pause.
'Or is even that not at all certain?'
The civil servant smiled. 'You do have a knack of asking awkward questions.' he declared. 'I do suspect that we will be staying here for some time.'
'But you could return us to the time of our departure.'
'No. The ring will make a way into another reality, but it is at the present time, there is no way to move back in time.'
'Of course,' I agreed.
'But we do not intend to fail, we will be leaving after dinner to visit some people, that is the gentlemen will be going. We must leave you to your own devices, but we should be back by morning.'
I bit my tongue, endured another dreadful meal and wished them well as they set off into the night. They has some tiny carriages each pulled by four diminutive ponies. They were of the New Forest type, but rather smaller than the ones I normally see at home.
They were not back by morning. The women were very concerned and kept a constant watch for them. Eventually about noon three boys came with the vehicles and a note. They had gone to Wales. Nothing more could be discovered, and so we just had to wait for them to return.
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24th July 08, 02:02 AM
#4
I gathered up a heap of dry dead plants and used my reading glasses to focus the sun onto some fine wisps of grass. It was soon burning merrily, spreading across the walled garden and removing years of neglect.
The women came running from the House in alarm, and tried to beat out the flames with brushes and mops.
'You'll bring the Fashion Police!' they shouted at me.
'Why? Surely they wouldn't be concerned by a garden fire.'
'They watch everything, you must not do anything to attract their attention.'
'How do they watch?'
My question was answered by the sound of an aircraft engine, and a small helicopter came into view over the high walls. It's pilot found a place to land and two of the passengers came to where we were all assembled. I had been pulled along by the household women, which was not wise.
The Fashion Police in their turquoise uniforms are arrogant, cocksure and they smirk - but the women were so meek and apologetic that I could have slapped them.
Fortunately there was a dirty old broken bottle lying on the burnt area, and the men concluded that it had caused the fire. They did not wish to get their boots dirty, I could see, so they took the first explanation which fitted the facts as they saw them.
Unfortunately the pilot kept the engine running downwind of the fire, and when it came to be time to take off, the revs would not increase. I assumed that the smoke had clogged the air filters, but the pilot seemed to have no clue about the possible causes of the problem.
They raised the alarm using a radio, I went to have a look inside whilst the Fashion Police were having a rather intense discussion on the other side of the aircraft. The company colours, turquoise and gold were used everywhere, and their rather artistic looking logo was on everything, even the material upholstering the seats.
The floor of the aircraft was littered with wrappers and dropped or discarded items. I picked up a pen and tried it on my hand, it did not work, so I swapped it for the identical, but working one on the clipboard in the pocket inthe pilot's door. I found a notebook under the seat, lots of sweets - someone did not like the yellow ones, a few coins, something sticky I did not want to know about. I put the pen and notebook in my skirt pocket, and retreated.
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25th July 08, 06:31 AM
#5
Not wishing to walk past the Fashion Police, I used the helicopter as cover and moved away from everyone.
The three of me had agreed to use a tree as a rendezvous point, it was a weeping cherry and had a large area beneath its branches where nothing grew, but around it there was a ferocious tangle of brambles. To gain access to the centre of the branches it was necessary to walk through the old grotto, a place full of nooks and corners, and if you knew where to turn you'd be able to duck under the archway and be under the canopy.
As I ducked I sensed that there was someone on the other side, and paused.
'Who's there?'
'Us.'
I stepped out and looked around at the Captain and the Chorister. The Chorister was holding a sturdy branch. The Captain was empty handed, but there was a bow and quiver set against the rockery, and a garden trugh with a good number of rabbits laid in it. She saw where I was looking, and grinned
'One more microwaved meal and I might have done something drastic, like gnawing off my own leg. As you're here, can you kotch them? My knife is useless for kitchen duties.'
I drew my knife and began to clean and skin the rabbits. The chorister made a face and a sound full of vowels and doubleyous. I told them that the helicopter was broken.
'They'll probably send a recovery crew out from wherever their base is. I hope they are efficient, I want to cook these.'
'What in?' I enquired grimly, 'There is only the microwave.'
'Spitroast perhaps.'
I looked at the insides of the first rabbit, and spread them out a little more.
'I don't think that this is a rabbit as I know them.' I said slowly, 'It isn't a vegetarian.'
The stomach contents proved to be part of a small bird, insects and what could have been a small fish. The Captain decided against eating rabbit from this reality, and I cleaned my knife, then remembered the notebook and pen.
'Look, I got this from the helicopter whilst they were arguing - pen and paper.'
'Anything interesting in it?'
'Just paper.'
The Chorister took it and flipped the pages. I had looked at it from the wrong side, there was writing on pages at what I had thought was the back of the notebook.
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26th July 08, 06:19 AM
#6
 Originally Posted by Pleater
She came in and curtsied to Hamish, which we soon came to realise was entirely normal.
So things there are pretty much as here it seems.
His Exalted Highness Duke Standard the Pertinacious of Chalmondley by St Peasoup
Member Order of the Dandelion
Per Electum - Non consanguinitam
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1st August 08, 01:23 AM
#7
Just when I am about to get on to the explanation - I am going to be away from the computer for a week or so.
The story was supposed to be complete by now - as were all the preparations for my absence here - but that has not worked out either.
Ah well - the best laid plans of MHICE and me gang aft agley
I am sure that Panache and davedove will be able to keep you entertained whilst I am away, and I look forward to taking up the prequel to their tales.
Fear not, the Hamish persona is not left in a sad brown suit.
Anne the Pleater
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1st August 08, 05:24 AM
#8
That is entirely fine with me, Anne. I have to leave for a week myself so I will end up being able to read the prequel before theirs.
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10th August 08, 12:57 PM
#9
During the days following the arrival of the helicopter we had to be careful as there were Fashion police guarding the aircraft and those off duty wandered about as though they owned the place. We were obliged to look after them, cooking and cleaning, carrying and fetching, they did not do a hand's turn for themselves and the women were very weary by the time several more helicopters arrived to remove them as soon as the repairs to the downed machine were effected.
For the first time I saw one of the Company Men - not one of this world in their employ but one wearing a golden tunic. He was decidedly too plump for the cut of it, his face had an unhealthy flush of red, and his mousey blond curls were thinning and rather badly permed. He peered around shortsightedly, and gave orders in a squeaky voice.
The men he brought with him to do the work were of an altogether different type - far too sharp. It was one of them who oversaw the unloading of the meals to replace those eaten by the fashion police - and the three of me went to get them. We made the mistake of calculating the number of meals eaten, the number of meals we had put into the baskets and how many more were needed to make up the number far too quickly and easily.
I turned and requested another two boxes, and then saw the expression on the man's face.
'So you can calculate - who taught you?'
'Granddad.' said the Captain, quickly. 'Is there something wrong?'
He gave a nasty grin.
'Oh no - I think we can find you some work at the local depot.'
'Oh no.' I gasped, for I had just finished planting the walled garden with the vegetable seeds I had brought with me.
Next day we were moved to the local depot, and were set to work in an office there, where the paperwork was in considerable disarray and the accounts were in disorder. It seemed that they had had no one numerate working there for years, and no one working really cared - but there had been an audit done and they had been given a warning that things had to be done better, and that the errors in previous years had to be resolved.
For three weeks we worked accurately and diligently, and things began to add up. At the end of the month we were sent to the regional HQ with the paperwork for the last decade.
That was the first time we traveled in a ring car. It was just a small one, with a ring that traveled only vertically, and from inside the car it was totally uneventful. There was a slight jolt - a safety feature which ensured that the whole car was transported, apparently, and then the door was opened and we stepped out into a hall busy with people, and where there were eight sets of the small rings and one large one.
It must have been a railway station at one time, and there were platforms around it for trains. A steam train was departing as we arrived, clanking and hissing dismally, it seemed in dire need of maintenance.
We were led to a magnificent town hall, where we presented the paperwork and waited until the clerks there were satisfied that it tallied with their records. A rather shrunken elderly man in a gold tunic came to look at us.
'So - did you do the work on the accounts?' he enquired.
'Yes, Sir,' said the Captain. 'It was very difficult.'
'I expect it was. You can work here now. The locals have no ability with figures, at least not the men.'
The Chorister gave a little cry of alarm, and I felt my shoulders sink, but we were ushered away to a room full of desks and boxes of papers, and told to get busy.
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