Alien Tongues (31 page)

"How was the Riviera?" her mother asked as she spread clotted cream on a scone.

"I didn't pay it very much attention, Mum.  I was there just to talk with Séamus about our project."

"Such a nice boy. I do hope he comes back to the Labs.  You were getting on so well with him.  I was expecting a little romance there."

"Oh, come on, Mum.  You know he's not really my type.  He was just my fantasy guy who I wanted a bit of a fling with.  Don't get me wrong – I think he's really sweet and he's a special friend.  But other than our project, we're never really going to have much in common.  For sure I'm going to end up with another academic type."

"How about Dave Orwood?  Is that back to a friendship again?"

"Funnily, yes.  You know what an idiot he was when I first moved back here – thinking I was the solution to his divorce.  Then he got insanely jealous of me being seen with Séamus.  Since Séamus left, he couldn't have been nicer.  People keep telling me how he praises me as the best thing he ever had in his life, but he knows he'd never be good enough for me.  Quite reformed, is our Dave!"  Alice gave a short laugh. 

"But not reformed enough to be a decent husband?"

Alice gave a dismissive gesture.  "Oh, forget that. If I don't have enough in common with Séamus, I have nothing in common with Dave. Anyway, he can't get over me just because I was so hot in bed."

"Alice!"

"Mum, there's no one within earshot and don't pretend such facts are a shock to you.  Anyway, a relationship here isn't relevant because I've decided to reduce my workload at the Labs.    So you should seriously think about moving south to Cambridge."

"Thank you for the offer, Dear, but I suspect that would cramp your style.  I've been getting a lot stronger recently.  I think I'm going to be fine staying up here by myself."

Alice put down her tea-cup and took hold of her mother's arm.  "That's great, Mum, but it's not just that.  I want to get you further away from the Syndicate."

Ellen Turner shrugged.  "They're nice people. They understood what went wrong with your Dad."

Alice felt an inner shudder.  She hated that her mother had confided everything in Grant.  "I simply don't understand why you and Séamus put so much faith in that man. He has a heart of stone."

"Maybe, Dear.  I can't myself see into a man's heart.  But I do know he is a man of his word, and that's a rare thing today."  She paused then, as if wanting to change the subject, said, "What about Séamus's mother?  Early on, you told me about his father but you said before he was quiet about her.  I think you just said he hadn't seen her in a long time.  Did you learn anything more?"

Alice could see some small figures walking round the castle.  She imagined armies of attackers and defenders, engaged in bloody mayhem, slicing and burning each other in order that one family, probably little different from its rival family, could wear the crown in faraway Westminster.

"Actually, I did.  Séamus said that, after his father died, his mother went a bit strange.  She couldn't deal with the loss and blamed Christianity for it – you know, because of the Catholic-Protestant conflict in the North.  She said a priest came to her and said, it was all part of God's plan which we can't know.  And she thought, well, if that's Christianity's answer to everything that happens, why bother with being Christian?    I mean, if this is what can happen when God loves you, why would we care if God hates us?"

Her mother nodded sympathetically, but was not the type to consider such arguments.  She went to church to meet her neighbors.

"Anyway, she finally found this cult.  Apparently the cult believes we humans on earth are descended from some extraterrestrial humans who visited here and left us as a sort of experiment.  They believe that there's a human society somewhere out there in the heavens which has all the answers, if only we can get in touch with them."

Mrs Turner was pouring them more tea.  "Well if these people ever do get in touch with them," she said brightly, "They'll have me sign up for their congregation.  I dare say their Sunday services will be a lot more interesting than what we get now.  So anyway, where is Séamus's mother now?"

"She lives somewhere with this cult," Alice said, nibbling on a dry scone.  "She went off to join them as soon as Séamus went to college.  He says she was a very dutiful but mentally distant mother to him up to that point. She kept in contact for a while, but it seems the cult discouraged it.  I think the cult accepts the need for families to raise kids but, once they're adults, treat them like anyone else.  They say the family-clan structure of the world is the greatest source of human misery."

Her mother smiled politely.  "Maybe, but you're still my pride and joy, Alice Dear.  In the end we're all selfish, aren't we?  I mean you have to accept human nature, don't you?"  She spent a moment, thinking.  "It's also about language, isn't it?  When you and I are talking, it's different from with other folk.  When I say something to you, you seem to understand me so much better, like you really know what I'm thinking.  I'm never going to have to worry that you get the wrong end of the stick."

Alice nodded vaguely as she gazed up at the bastion of the House of York.  She was thinking how fortunate she was, as a woman, not to have been born at an earlier time.  She had a secure, well-paid position at Cambridge, and a flexible government role which allowed her to use the facility and visit her mother at will.  A couple of the academics down south were interested in her and she felt both were fishing to see if she might be interest in marriage.  They weren't particularly physically attractive, but she really enjoyed their company and they had a lot in common.  Just like Al and Jo, Meg Moon's suitors in
Moon Uprising
.  Alice burst out laughing.

"Did I say something funny?" her mother asked with surprise.

"No, Mum.  You're right. The language of families.  You can never upset anyone too much because they know the entire history of where you're coming from. That's the comfort, and that also the boundary."  Séamus had never even reached the boundary, and the girls had spent their whole lives trying to scale over its wall.

Jenny felt this was the most magical night of her life.  For the first time, she had her three sisters all alone to herself.  Admittedly, Ivan had parked his great frame at the other end of the bar, their chaperone for the night, but in practice he wasn't going to dare try and limit their fun.  For certain, he wasn't going to risk the disapproval of Phyllis and the chances of getting lucky at the end of that night.  Lots of men were eyeing up the four of them, so animated together, so exotic as four unique Asian looks, but all wearing the identical Irish mini-kilts.  The standard approach line was to ask why they had Scottish dress, and they never tired of confusing the questioner by correcting him with the word Gaelic.  One Frenchman had thought they had said Gallic, which led to further confusion, and had bought him more time with the girls.

But they made it clear that no man was allowed to spend more than twenty minutes with them that night.  They would happily exchange phone numbers, but this was emphatically their Girls' Night.  Jenny has insisted upon that, to which Chrissy and Phyllis had shrugged and readily accepted, and Tina had pulled a face and said it would be a very rare event.  Once they had begun drinking and talking, however, Tina seemed to be enjoying herself as much as anyone.  To Jenny, she looked unbelievably sexy that night, her make-up doing extraordinary things with her looks, and her long, booted legs seeming to stretch for miles up to her mini-kilt.

"God, Tina Baby," Jenny said when she finally felt the alcohol starting to hit her, "You could turn me into a lesbian so easily.  Girls, isn't she just a doll?  Dear, if you're ever stuck for the night and you want someone to go down on you, I'm really willing to try.  And I never made that offer to any other woman."

"That's very kind of you to offer, Jenny," Tina said dryly.  "I don't want to hurt your feelings because you're such a good friend, but I'm just never going to take you up on it.  The thought makes me want to puke."

Jenny ran her hand down the side of Tina's neck and the front of her chest, which Tina permitted with a small grin.  "Oh, you're a challenge!"  The smaller girl said breathlessly.  "It makes me want you even more!"

"You should ask Chrissy," Tina told her.  "She's more the type to experiment like that."

"Hmmm." Jenny moved to Chrissy, who was standing right by.  She touched her in the same way, again without resistance or response.  "Well, Chrissy to me is more like a very beautiful boy without a cock.  But I'm willing to give it a try."

"Sorry," Chrissy told her.  "You know, someday I might want to try it with another girl, but it wouldn't be with your type.  Probably a Tina-type for me, too.  Anyway, how do you know I don't have a cock?"

"I know you don't," Phyllis added.  "I saw you run with Séamus."

"But you saw his," Tina said.  "What was it like?"

"Too dark, Silly.  But he's got a really nice butt.  You too, of course, Chrissy."

"Can I ask for a moment of pure honesty here?" Tina continued.  "Did any of you girls have any sex with Séamus?  I can say honestly that the only thing I did was get naked and let him kiss a nipple. Anything more than that?"

All of the others shook their heads.  "You went furthest, Tina," Phyllis said.  "I just let him see my boobies when we had a mock knife-fight."  Then she pointed at Chrissy.  "You sat on him, totally naked together.  He must have felt something!"

"So did I," Chrissy said, grinning.  "All that hair felt really good."

Tina grabbed her shoulders and gave her a mild shake in a humorous act of jealousy.  "Okay, okay," Chrissy hastily added.  "He's all yours, when he's ready.  But be careful, Baby.  You're so hungry, you're in danger of swallowing him whole."

Tina placed her forehead on Chrissy's chest in a play-act of sobbing, appearing to thump in frustration with her fists.  Then it looked like an idea suddenly occurred to her, and her face brightened.  "You know, maybe I'm the same as Jenny.  Always wanting love from someone who doesn't want me in return!"

The other girls all laughed.  A group of three young men approached them, one of them asking if they could buy the girls drinks.  Though he spoke in English, Chrissy knew they were locals and replied in French.

"Of course you can," she told them, "And we enjoy talking to handsome young men like you.  But here are the terms before you decide.  This is our Girls' Night so we only talk for twenty minutes to any man, then we can exchange numbers for another time.  That mountain of a man at the end of bar is here to protect us.  And we never have sex for free."  She glanced at Tina.  "Even if we fall in love with you."

The man grinned.  "This year, I had sex for free with only two women.  The first one cost me far too much in personal time, and the second one – in all modesty – should have paid me."

Tina put her arm through his.  "I like this one.  Maybe I could fall in love with him."  She brushed his hair.  "Then I'm really explosive, Baby.  But my price also goes up."

"Then I can't wait until you charge me double, Darling," he replied.

"Listen," Phyllis said.  "The band is playing our song."

"Oh, you mean that American country one,
Daughters of the Dust Belt
?" The man asked.  "It's from that sci-fi novel,
Moon Uprising
?  Did you read it?"

"We all did," Phyllis replied.  "It's our Bible.  Well, in my personal case, after the Catholic Bible."

"Talking as fellow Catholics," the Frenchman said, "We'd be pleased to swap them."  He paused, intrigued. "So what do you girls think
Moon Uprising
is all about?"

"It's about freedom," Chrissy said.

"It's about universal love," Jenny said.

"It's about finding true love," Tina corrected her.

"Excuse my sisters," Phyllis told the man.  "Of course, it's about civil war."

"Look, they're starting a line dance," Jenny remarked.  They all turned to watch.  The French band, ethnically North African, was belting out the tune with a beat quite different from the American version. The female lead singer, ethnically francophone Sub-Saharan, had a remarkable voice range.  The excitement generated by the sudden catchiness and power had brought people onto the dance-floor, and they had naturally copied what they had seen many times on the well-known, viral video.

"They're not really doing it the right way," Tina remarked.  "Their arms should be sort of loose at their sides, and they need to stamp their heels at the right time."

"You mean, like
Riverdance
?" One of the men asked.  "Can you dance like that wearing a Gaelic mini-kilt?"

"I'm not sure," Jenny said, "But, because you got it right first time, I'm going to invite you to try it with me."  She took his hand and moved onto the floor.  She began correcting the line dance and the man seemed to pick it up very quickly.  The two other men almost simultaneously bowed to Tina and Chrissy, holding out their hands into which the girls placed theirs.  Phyllis skipped down the bar and grabbed Ivan from his chair, forcing him the join them on the floor.  When he finally decided to stop protesting, he suddenly began moving like an athlete.