The Art of Evasion
Posted on Fri Apr 22nd, 2016 @ 8:35am by
Edited on on Thu Jun 2nd, 2016 @ 11:37pm
Mission:
Time and High Society
Location: Mr. Bailey's Mansion, London, England
Timeline: March 20th, 1896
[ON]
As Herbert Wells had hoped, his futuristic guests made quite the fashion splash. Paying for the dresses, hats, and accoutrements had painfully damaged this month's budget, but the results made it worthwhile.
The 'school girl' Monday carefully stayed by Mrs. Wells' side, but Ricki threw caution to the wind. Upon the premise of best defence being a good offense, she artfully became the center of the gentlemen's attention. She playfully accepted one book or paper after another that was thrust into her hands. "Hmmm... this is German, a treatise on the philosophy of law."
The men smiled in amazement, "How extraordinary!"
Another man pushed forward with a sheet of paper, "This one will stump you!"
'Riquee' accepted the challenge with a smile, and examined the paper. "This... is Chinese. It's a purchase receipt drafted in Shanghai."
"I don't believe it! That's seven languages in which you are fluent." He showed her a coin, "Then you recognize this?"
"I'm afraid not."
"What? How could you not? It also is Chinese!"
Ricki dramatically raised the top of her wrist to her forehead, "Alas, I am poor and penniless!"
Laughter erupted. Another called out, "That is seven languages so far, Thomas! To the library! We must find more!"
"Here! Here! This one! Can you read this?"
Ricki offered a polite lady's nod and accepted the book. "Ah yes. Latin... the Vulgate Bible. This would be Matthew twenty two."
The more that she recognized, the more excited they became. "This one! This one!"
"Hindu... poetry."
Not everyone had enthusiastic applause to offer. One man pushed forward and thrust a torn piece of paper into her hands, "You'll not know this one!"
Sensing his resentfulness, Ricki politely took it in hand. "Hmmm, this is difficult!" Amidst patient cigars, pipes, and bourbon, she raised her finger, "I think... that this is a cypher!"
"Foul! Foul! You don't know what language this is, so you call it a cypher?"
"Oh, but Sir! The evidence is here!" She looked to a man wearing a monocle, "Kind Sir, may I borrow your optical piece?"
"But of course!"
She returned a bow of the head and examined the paper. Actually, her synapses had been manipulating her closed wrist computer and tricorder wand to scan. "The letters are very carefully formed. They haven't the flow of practiced freehand."
"Use logic, woman! Careful writing does not make text a cypher!"
"Ah! But it does lend support to the better evidence. Both ink and paper are new, not vintage. In fact... I would venture to guess that if you examined Mr. Wells' guestbook, you might find that one of the pages has been torn out from the back."
One of the men ran over and hastily paged through it. "By George! She's right! Templeton! You rascal!" Hearty laughter erupted. "You've been well and truly outwitted by a woman! Well done, my dear!"
Said man became red faced with suppressed anger.
Ricki expressed her displeasure by handing the paper back, "Gibberish, Sir."
The women in the gathering took their place on the perimeter. One of the well-to-do socialites confided to Mrs. Bailey, "Seeing Mr. Templeton taken down a peg or two makes the whole evening worthwhile."
The hostess was resentful, "It's shameful, publicly humiliating a gentleman like that!"
"Oh, come now, Margaret. He cornered the poor woman. What was she to do?"
"Take it quietly, of course."
The woman sighed, "Well, it's plain to see that the men are as good as bewitched for the remainder of the evening."
The most dedicated predator in the room was Mr. Bailey himself. He drifted around the men besieging Ricki and whispered to himself, "Well played, my dear, using them as a shield." He turned his attention to Monday and Mrs. Wells. They seemed quite content to sit quietly and observe. "I say! How remiss of my servants! You have no wine, Miss Monday."
Amy offered a motherly chide, "She is too young, Mr. Bailey. Wine is too strong for her."
"Oh, of course! How obtuse of me! My apologies, young one." He took a seat with them, directing his question to to Monday, "Tell me, what brings you and your remarkable friend to London?"
"I came here by accident, Sir."
"Accident? How on earth can one accidentally travel to a city in a foreign country?"
She could feel Amy's suppressed nervous gaze. "I was visiting a boat when it suddenly departed."
Mr. Bailey was quite content to draw attention to himself with a hearty laugh, "Seriously?"
Amy Wells lent a hand, "Riquee San Louie was dispatched to catch up and serve as chaperone and bring her home."
"Ah! I see. And, since your colony was so tragically lost, where do you now call home?"
"I haven't really found one yet, Sir. I've been aboard ships and at... sea ports ever since."
"Oh, dear. It must be quite the shock for you, ending up here in such an advanced and civilized city!"
"It is a shock indeed, Sir."
Amy almost had to bite her tongue to keep from smiling. "Mr. Bailey, you are so kind to include us in your wonderful gathering."
"Think nothing of it! It is my pleasure, I assure you!" He gestured for a servant to bring him another drink. "How long will you grace London with your lovely presence?"
Monday kept her tone quiet and calm, "I do not yet know."
Amy added, "We are in the process of straightening out travel arrangements."
He gestured a tap of the finger in the air, "Consider myself as a resource to assist you. I insist!"
Monday hesitated, looking to Amy. The older woman used Herbert as a shield, "I shall share your most gracious offer with my husband. I am sure that he will be quite grateful."
The evening progressed as most gatherings did. Men became more drunk and boisterous. The women milled about, fueling gossip and speculation. One of the women approached Mrs. Bailey and asked in confidence, "Margaret, how can you stand it! Look at that woman!"
The hostess fumed quietly at Ricki. "Look at her. She freely converses with servants as though they were equals! How dare she!"
"It's a slap in the face!"
Mrs. Bailey squinted pensively, "No. She's not doing it to spite us. Riquee seems to be freely gracious with all." She looked to her friend and rival, "Who do we know that does the same thing?"
"Of course! This is Amy's doing! She has poisoned her foreign guest by setting the example of improper behavior!"
"I utterly despise that woman!" At that moment, Amy passed nearby. Margaret threw her arms open wide, "Amy! How lovely to see you again! It has been far too long!" The two exchanged a light, patting hug. "Come! Come join us!"
"You are too generous, Margaret."
"Not at all! Not at all! Come, sit." After setting, she tipped her head and asked of the shadowing Monday, "Tell us, where did that amazing Riquee San Louie attend school?
Monday shook her head slightly, "I do not know, ma'am. I have never been to her world."
Amy gently squeezed her wrist as a warning.
Ricki had been keeping an eye on Monday. Or rather, she kept an active silenced tricorder wand upon her. As soon as bio readings indicated stress, she swooped in to intervene, "Monday! Are you enjoying yourself?"
"Very much so... Riquee."
"Mrs. Bailey, with your permission, I should like to show her your lovely flower garden before the sun sets!"
"Of course. How remiss of me to not have offered a tour earlier. Please do enjoy." As the pair departed, she quietly vented to her friend, "How utterly rude!"
Outside, Ricki slowed her pace upon reaching the ornate flower garden, "Are you all right?"
"I think so. Ricki, I don't understand. The servants. They look so miserable. I know that they would enjoy the party, but they are all but ignored! What is do difficult about people getting their own refreshments?"
"It's an issue of social pride. It is a craving for maximum convenience."
"It is insensitive and crude." She shook her head, "And the women, I understand them even less. I hear discussions about emancipation of women, yet they are the ones who reinforce the social paradigm the most!"
Ricki nodded, "Mmmm, that is a common psychological dynamic among humans. It is the same of any social organization which claims maximum allegiance from its members. Those who have compromised, those who have sold out to the system the most react the most violently. Nothing is more unbearable to them than to see someone take a stand against something to which they themselves had surrendered. Social castes, military, corporations, the emotional dynamic is the same."
Monday shook her head, "Sometimes I think that the Vulcans have been right all along about emotional display."
Ricki shook her head, breathing in the aroma of roses in the cool evening air, "No, my friend. Vulcans aren't immune to faulty logic and deep motivations. You're already too much like them as it is. Don't work harder at becoming so."
Mr. Bailey had succeeded in throwing diversions at the Wells couple. "Ah! There you are! What do you think of my wife's handiwork?"
Monday suspected that the mans' wife had precious little to do with the actual work. She was about to compliment all of the gardeners who must have been involved, but Ricki knew her too well. She preempted, "Truly, what an artistic eye your wife has, good sir! One could happily spend endless hours out here."
One of Bailey's henchmen commented, "Probably even moreso for a savage-girl."
Bailey chided, "Now now, let us not bruise the tender virgin. I'm sure that she's working very hard to become civilized." He drew nearer, "And to that end, some of the ladies have been asking. Might young Monday be available for a shopping tour tomorrow? They promise to take very good care of her."
Ricki concealed the threatened impulse that she felt, "I think that would be a rare and wonderful opportunity. However, I have given my word that I will chaperone her at all times."
"Indeed! We cannot cause a lady to break her word! Come with! Come with! I am sure that you will be most welcomed!" He offered a predatory bow and withdrew.
After they were away, Monday whispered, "I have a bad feeling."
"So do I. My tricorder readings of his brainwaves register a strong blend of joy and aggression. He's got something planned."
[OFF]
Riquee San Louie
Miss Monday
Mr. & Mrs. Herbert Wells
Mr. & Mrs. Bailey {boo! hiss!}
Starbase 332 Twilight Zone
Pegasus Fleet
