THE WATCHERS
Akademie der Sankte Hildegard, Friday 9 January 2043
On Friday afternoon the word was passed via q-mail and old-fashioned whispers, and that night scores of girls gathered in the Aspen lecture hall, filling the rows of seats and even sitting on the floor. Four of the older students guarded the doors.
"Did you bring popcorn?" Alea asked Monique as the lights went out.
"Shhh!" hissed the girl behind them. "It's about to start."
The video opened with a screenful of credits, the letters and pictures moving about to the recent dance tune from Lalolo. Marie and Gretchen got credit for actually paying attention in computer class and being able to access the security feeds, Winifred was thanked for her photography, Viu for the music, and Salet and Zia for alerting the team. Then the names of everyone in the Art of Video class danced in vivid color across the screen.
"I guess we know who made the video," Monique said dryly.
"Shh!" came the voice from behind.
"Oh, hush," Alea said without turning around. "You've heard this song a thousand times before."
But then that song faded and sweeping arpeggios of some kind of string music filled the room, while the video swooped over beautiful valleys and snow-covered mountains, finally ending up at the school, but hovering high above so that you could see the river and the town and valley, too, as if you were a bird. The view shifted to blue sky and white clouds with an eagle soaring in the distance, and the rainbow title "Aerie of Love" slowly bloomed upon the screen.
"Great goddess above, what a title," muttered Monique, and Alea giggled. Monique despised what she called "candy-ass love." Behind them, the shushing girl noisily got to her feet and moved.
Then the viewpoint spiraled down, ending at the tower that held the music room, and a picture of Sister Laina playing her harp and the words "Starring Sister Laina" appeared. The music stayed soft and flowing as still-shots of Sister Laina came and went upon the screen: Sister Laina in the classroom lecturing, teaching a weaving class, riding one of the generator bikes, making a funny face at dinner, and finally staring pensively out the window, looking across the courtyard to…
…the dojo, where Sensei Mike was staring straight at the camera, a silver sai in each hand, looking sexily dangerous. When the words "Starring Sensei Mike" came on screen, girls cheered. The next few minutes came from a regular training video, as Sensei Mike moved in slow motion through one of the advanced katas. The watching girls sighed. Another montage began: stills of him sitting on a horse, eating in the refectory, returning the bows of a row of young (and very short) students in the dojo, and standing on the top of the one of the castle walls, looking out over the valley. The sunshine made his hair and beard almost gold.
"Did the video girls ask you for family photos?" Monique asked. "Since he's your cousin?"
"Yeah, but my mom didn't have any," Alea answered. "She doesn't do pictures much."
The next still showed him sweaty and shirtless, just returned from a run, and that morphed into a video, as he did pull-up after pull-up on the bar. Alea was mesmerized by the muscles rippling under his skin. More sighs of appreciation rustled around the room. Then he was back in white karate gi and black belt, as short clip after clip showed him dropping different people (including Alea) on the dojo mat.
"What's that song?" Alea whispered, for she didn't recognize the heavy beat or the words about people biting the dust.
"It's a classic by a British group called Queen," Monique replied. "It's really old, like 1960s or something." She started singing along: "And another one down, and another one down, and another one bites the dust!"
The dojo scene faded away, and the music got romantic again with sunshine sparkling on a mountain stream and the words "The magic begins…" flowing across the screen. Monique groaned and called upon the goddess again. Now there were pictures with both Sister Laina and Sensei Mike, or at least a picture of each of them on the screen at the same time, usually arranged so they seemed to be either smiling at or staring longingly at each other. Then came action video from last summer, with Sister Laina and Sensei Mike sparring in the dojo.
"Are those wooden swords they're using?" Monique asked.
"Yes, they're called bokken," Alea said, trying to keep track of all the moves.
"Sister Laina's good," Monique said in surprise. "I thought she just did music and art stuff."
A date-stamp appeared in the bottom corner of the screen: December 21. "That's the day I left!" Alea said, feeling somewhat put upon. She'd been keeping watch on Sensei Mike and Sister Laina for weeks and they hadn't done more than look at each other, usually when the other one was looking away. But in the pictures on screen, Sensei Mike and Sister Laina were looking out a window together (December 21), saddling horses together (December 22), laughing together in the refectory (December 23), and standing side by side in a church (December 24).
"They go to church?" Monique asked in bewilderment.
"Concert," Alea explained, pointing to the musicians in the background.
Then came a long-distance shot with thermal image enhancement, obviously from a security camera, showing the couple standing intriguingly close together in the courtyard. A yellow circle appeared, drawing attention to Sister Laina's hand, which was definitely touching Sensei Mike's. The time stamp read December 24, 21:34. A few people cheered. One minute later, Sister Laina was mostly out of frame, and Sensei Mike was standing there alone, looking up at the sky.
The next day, on December 25 at 10:32, Sensei Mike entered the music room. Eleven minutes later, Sister Laina walked out. It was hard to tell, but Alea thought she saw tears. Sensei Mike didn't leave for another nine minutes. He looked serious but calm. On December 26 at 14:12, Sister Laina boarded a train in town with a woman who had short blonde hair.
Then the screen went black except for the title "Where did the magic go?" and only the calendar showed, steadily counting the days: 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31. Muttered curses and shrieks popped up here and there among the audience as their chosen dates came and went.
"Why don't they show us what he was doing while she was gone?" Alea asked.
Monique shrugged. "They probably think a totally black screen is artsy or ultra post modern or some such."
On January 1 the lights came back on, and Sister Laina was shown at the train station again, along with the caption: "The Magic Returns!" A security camera showed Sensei Mike at Sister Laina's office door at 15:59, and he didn't leave until 16:42. At 19:32 that same day he was standing outside Sister Laina's bedroom door, his hair all ruffled from the wind. Two students were visible in the background, near the stairs.
"What's he holding?" Monique asked.
"That's a piece of his birthday pie," Alea replied, but she needn't have bothered. Another yellow circle appeared on screen, highlighting the container as the caption appeared: "He brings her pie!" But he left her room at 20:13, and Sister Laina didn't even appear.
The next shot was dated January 2, 07:29. He was walking down Sister Laina's corridor, and once again his hands were full. "He brings her oranges!" the caption blared. "For breakfast!" Sister Laina opened the door to him at 07:31. Someone cheered. He left an hour later, and she saw him to her door.
On January third, a long-distance picture clearly showed them holding hands as they stood in a meadow under a big oak tree, and Sensei Mike's head was bent to hers. "Did they kiss?" read the caption.
January fourth and fifth went by with only innocuous shots, including one of her going into his room for about ten minutes while he got his riding boots, and then on January sixth came the Twelfth Night Ball. Murmurs of appreciation filled the room when Sensei Mike appeared in his pirate outfit, and murmurs of envy and admiration greeted Sister Laina's green gown and flowing red hair.
"That's only half a dress," Monique observed. Though the neckline was fairly modest, the bodice was a single band of cloth that went behind the neck, crossed over each breast and then attached to the skirt at the sides, so that both the navel and the entire back were exposed. The front of the skirt reached only to mid thigh then from there fell in a sharp V to the floor, so with every step came a glimpse of leg. At the ball it had taken Alea a while to realize just how little fabric there was, because Sister Laina had worn her hair in long cascades of curls, and her hair had covered most of the bare skin.
There had been a lot of cameras at the ball, and the film class had been able to splice together different videos to show the couple dancing from multiple angles and to several different songs. "The waltz is way more romantic than the tango," Monique said as they watched Sensei Mike whirl Sister Laina around the room, "and the way they're dancing it, it's sexy too. "
"I think it's sexy because of the way they're looking at each other," Alea observed. "When I waltzed with him, it wasn't sexy, but it was fun to twirl round and round and get dipped sometimes. He's got a strong lead."
In the corner of the screen, the clock ticked along. The floor grew less crowded, but the music kept on and Sensei Mike and Sister Laina were still at the ball. Finally they went to breakfast, dressed in their fancy clothes, and then Sensei Mike escorted Sister Laina to her room. There in the hallway, in full view of the security camera, she pulled him to her and kissed him, and no question mark was needed here. Her hand was at the nape of his neck, urging him closer, and his hands were buried underneath her hair, roving up and down her naked back.
"Ain't no daylight between those two," came the comment from the girl two rows over, loud enough for everyone to hear. And still the kiss went on. People started to clap and cheer. Finally, Sister Laina and Sensei Mike stopped, and she undid a ribbon from her incredibly long hair and pressed it into his hand. Then she gave him a lingering smile and went in her room. He stood, staring at the door for a minute, winding the ribbon round and round one hand, then headed down the hall, whistling.
The calendar flashed: Thursday, January 8, 18:00. Sensei Mike once again appeared in Sister Laina's hallway. He knocked, she answered, they walked out together, dressed for winter weather in coats and knitted hats. Then they were eating dinner at the Italian restaurant in town, she in a dark blue dress and long silver earrings, he in the cream-and-brown sweater of soft alpaca wool that Alea had helped her mom pick out as a Christmas present for him. The time stamp was 19:02. "That's my picture!" a girl near the front called in excitement. "I was having dinner with my mom, and they just walked in! I saw them holding hands across the table!"
At 20:33 Sensei Mike and Sister Laina showed up in the courtyard camera, and security cameras tracked them to her door. They didn't kiss in the hallway; this time she invited him in, and he was the one to close the door.
"I'm surprised nobody put cameras in their rooms," Monique confided.
"Somebody did mention it," Alea replied, "but everybody agreed it would be wrong. Plus, they both always lock their doors."
The clock kept ticking; the door stayed closed. Midnight, one in the morning, two… Someone started chanting the time, and soon all of them were calling out the hours: five, six, seven, eight, nine!
At 9:47 on Friday morning the door finally opened. Sensei Mike and Sister Laina were just visible in the doorway, and they were holding hands. Sensei Mike stepped into the hallway, wearing the same clothes he had worn the night before. He said something and then listened in return. He started laughing, and then her hand reached out and pulled him back inside. He kicked the door shut with his foot, and it was closed once more.
The room erupted with cheers and whistles, and Alea and Monique were on their feet and clapping. The screen was flashing "8 January!" along with the words "The Magic of Love Goes On". Nobody could really hear the music; but Alea thought it was the Hallelujah chorus.
When the picture faded from the screen, people gradually sat back down. Athene, one of the oldest girls there and a member of the film class, came to the front. "The purse is four hundred twenty-five Euros," she announced. "Are we all agreed the date is January eighth?"
A dark-haired girl in the back stood up and asked, "What if they waited until after midnight?"
"Oh, please," muttered Monique.
"They went into her room at eight-thirty-nine," Athene said. "Does anyone here think they waited more than three hours?" Not one person raised a hand. "January eighth is it then." She clicked a button and the January betting sheet was displayed on the screen.
"O Goddess," Alea muttered and slid down in her chair.
Athene looked out over the crowd of girls and asked, "Who has the initials S–H-Mc?"
No one answered. Slowly, Alea got to her feet, climbed over Monique's legs, and went to the front of the room.
"Your initials are A-R-H," Athene said.
Alea nodded. "S–H–Mc is for Sara Heather MacLeod." Everybody just looked at her, so she added, "Sister Caorran."
"Your mother?" Athene said in disbelief, and a hiss of outrage ran around the room. "You told your mother?"
"She already knew about it," Alea explained. "I didn't tell her anything."
It didn't matter. The girls were still mad.
"Ignore them," Monique said, swooping down the aisle then linking arms with Alea. "They just wish the money was theirs." Alea took the envelope with the money from Athene, then Alea and Monique left, arm in arm. "Might as well do it now," Monique said when they reached the corridor. "Will your mother still be awake?"
"It's only eight-thirty," Alea said and led the way through the castle to their family suite.
Will was seated at the table, making yet another intricate creation of wire, rocks, and glass. He looked up when they came in. "Hi, Monique," he said cheerfully, then gave a special smile and a nod. "Alea."
"Will," she said and smiled in return. It was all they ever needed to say. "Is Mom in?"
Will jerked his head to the closed bedroom door, already reabsorbed into his project. Alea stepped over last week's creation of string and metal on her way across the room.
"What are those?" Monique whispered.
Alea shrugged. "He calls them shambles. He's made them since he was about five." Juliette had forbidden any more after the first eight, which was one of the reasons Will had wanted to come home.
"They're pretty," Monique said, turning to look at the one hanging over the couch.
"Sister Laina likes them, too," Alea said then knocked on the bedroom door.
"Come in," Mom said, and Alea and Monique stepped inside. Mom was sitting in the middle of the bed, surrounded by piles of paper. She had a pen tucked behind her right ear. "Hello, Monique," Mom said. "Alea."
"Mom." That was all they ever needed to say, too. "You won," Alea announced. Mom tilted her head, looking confused, and Alea added, "The betting sheet on Sensei Mike and Sister Laina. You picked yesterday, so you get the four hundred twenty-five Euros." Alea put the envelope on the edge of the bed.
"Ah, yes," Mom said, smiling a little. Then, looking confused again, she asked, "How did you know the date?"
"We took a vote," Monique said, "even though the time markers on the video made it pretty clear."
"Video?" Mom said. Her smile had disappeared.
"The girls in the Art of Film class spliced together security feeds and stills and some karate training vids to make a movie," Alea explained. "They even added music and captions; it came out nice."
"Except for the candy-ass titles," muttered Monique.
"Holy Mother," Mom swore in a quiet whisper then exploded off the bed in a blizzard of papers. "Where is the video?" Mom demanded while she pulled on her shoes. Behind her, a paper floated gently down.
"Mom!" Alea protested. "You can't—"
Her mother fixed her with a serious glare. "Where?"
Alea swallowed hard. "We were in the Aspen lecture hall, but the girls with the vid may have gone to someone's room by now."
Mom cursed again then took out her phone and punched two buttons. "Councilor Caorran here," she said, each syllable clipped and precise."Requesting security shutdown two-alpha, Phinyx House at St. Hildegarde, Austria. Immediate." She listened, nodded, then said something in a language Alea had never heard before.
Monique looked at Alea, eyebrows zoomed up and eyes wide. Alea shrugged helplessly and shook her head.
"Confirmed," Mom said then turned off the phone. She took a deep breath then smiled at Alea and Monique, saying, "Let's go find the video."
An hour later, Sara knocked on Cassandra's door, a copy of the video in hand.
"Oh my," Cassandra said several times as she watched the video unfold. Dad was silent, but he closed his eyes here and there. They were sitting next to each other, holding hands.
Sara supposed she'd get used to that, in time.
When the video was over, Cassandra smiled at him and said ruefully, "No more kissing in the halls."
"Yeah," he said, rubbing his hand over his beard. "I'll talk to Erika about the security of her security feeds. I'll also tell her to talk with Marie and Gretchen. Maybe even hire them."
"How many girls saw this?" Cassandra asked.
"Alea said at least a hundred."
Dad shook his head and closed his eyes again. "Karate class is going to be hell." Then he asked, "You said you had the Guardians cut power to the transmitter?"
Sara nodded. "There's no phone service or web access anywhere in the valley right now, so we still have a chance to stop this before it gets posted."
"Smart," he said, with the look of serious approval that let her know he was proud.
Sara straightened a little as she smiled at him, "Thanks, Dad. I already talked to the girls who made the video, and reminded them of our honor code about respecting each others' privacy. I also told them that Sister Laina's ex-boyfriend was a stalker who would try to kill you both if he knew she had a lover."
Dad lifted his eyebrows as Cassandra said, "Nice touch."
Sara shrugged. "More believable than the Game. So, the girls agreed not to post it, and I watched them delete the videos on their phones. But I suspect there are more copies out there." She looked at Cassandra. "You could ask them."
"I could," she agreed slowly. "Is it worth it? Our pictures are already on the web, under a variety of names. Privacy is nearly impossible these days."
Dad nodded but said, "Stories go viral more than stills. And, even if we didn't have people after our heads or need to protect the secret of immortality, I don't want this out there."
"I don't either," Cassandra said. "But my preference isn't 'great need'."
"Keeping the secret is," Dad replied. "And if it's not kept, we'll have 'great danger', too."
Sara had heard those phrases before, for Cassandra had explained that centuries ago she had vowed not to use the Voice except in times of great danger or great need. Sara didn't think that she herself was dangerous, so that meant that Cassandra must have felt there was "great need" to use the Voice on her a few months ago. Sara had to admit that standing petrified on the stairs had definitely gotten her attention, and had helped her to realize just how messed up she was.
Cassandra and Dad looked at each other for a moment, and then Cassandra stood and said to Sara, "Let's go talk to the girls."
"I'll erase this video then go see Erika," Dad said. On her way out the door Cassandra leaned over and kissed him.
Sara supposed she'd have to get used to that, too. As she and Cassandra walked down the stairs, Sara asked, "Do you always ask his permission to use the Voice?"
"Not at all," Cassandra said. "But considering your father has told me he'll take my head if he thinks I'm misusing it, I do like to have his approval."
By eleven that evening, Cassandra had interviewed twelve girls, and Sara had deleted four more copies of the video. Cassandra sank down wearily on a chair in a small lounge off the hall. "We're lucky they're artists," Cassandra said. "They wanted to make it perfect before they shared it with anyone else." She leaned her head back against the stone wall and closed her eyes, her palm pressed to her forehead.
"Headache?" Sara asked. "From using the Voice?"
Cassandra didn't want to move her head to nod. It felt as if an iron band were being slowly tightened just above her eyes, driving the nails deeper in."I'll be all right," she said. She took a few more deep breaths, pushing the pain away. Food would help, but for that she needed to get to her room. Cassandra opened her eyes and stood. She smiled at Sara. "Shall we?"
They had gone down two corridors before Sara asked the question Cassandra had been waiting for. "What did you say, to make him come back in your room?"
"I told him I had oatmeal," Cass answered.
"Oatmeal," Sara repeated dubiously.
"It was nearly ten o'clock and we were hungry, and he was going to bring us some food," Cassandra explained. "Then I remembered I had oatmeal. When I told him, he laughed and came back in."
"And you ate oatmeal for breakfast."
"Yes. With tea."
"Of course. And then...?"
"Then?" Cassandra repeated, deciding to put an end to some of this curiosity and prying into her private affairs. "We made love on the floor, and then we made love standing up. Then we went to lunch. Your father was hungry again," she explained.
Sara closed her mouth with a snap. "Sorry I asked," she muttered.
Cassandra nodded, satisfied.
Next: Duncan to the rescue