Sanctuary Falling (35 page)

Angela nodded to Yllera and looked to Tina, “How long do you need to keep her to make sure she is past the crisis?”

“I’d need a week or two, a
 
couple months would be better,” Tina answered.

Angela glanced at Yllera, the urgency had doubled, the girl-woman couldn’t bear a couple of months. “Tina, is there anything you could do to help if a problem arose?”

“No, not really, but this could happen to other Agurians and the more I understand about it the more help I can be in future.” Tina said more decisively, realizing Yllera had made a case for leaving.

“Compromise time, Yllera you’ll wear a monitor so Tina can have her readings. Tina you have five days to determine her stability. Unless a major problem comes up, Yllera you go back in one week,” Angela proclaimed.
 

Tina was definitely not happy with the result, but Yllera showed more satisfaction. At least one person was happy. Angela left on that note, taking a different route to her office, through the halls. Yllera’s situation brought to mind the overall trouble of communication. No one in Angela’s sphere of responsibility had more than begun to see Angela’s troubles. She needed people with better communication skills, who might be better at picking things up.

Angela plucked her pop-pad from her pocket, and keyed for Niri. Niri’s smiling face quickly greeted her, “Hey chief, what can I do for you?”

Angela paused, why had she gotten so good at starting actions before clear plans had formed. Angela couldn’t tell Niri that she didn’t know why she was calling, “Niri, I want you to include a broadened communications module. I want new factors to come out of training able to communicate without words, and I don’t mean telepathically. Give me people who know sign language, can read body language
 
or read lips. Give me more options.”

Niri nodded slowly, “Okay chief, I think I can do that.”

- - - - - - - - - -
  

Chapter 10

Once More into the Breeches

------------------------------------

Annette juggled her borrowed canvas shopping bags. It might have been easier to actually shop with the girls. The trouble was that she hadn’t in her memory had enough resources to make random impulse purchases.
 
That wasn’t to say she had gone without what she needed, just that sometimes she couldn’t get everything she wanted. Growing up, her foster mother had helped Annette sort her priorities, sometimes getting the
>
in’ shoes meant a standard book bag. The rule had always been shop twice buy once.
 
Basically Annette was used checking out all of the shops and making a list of what she wanted then dividing out her allotment of choices by priority.
 

The girls had laughed at the idea yesterday.
 
They were used to the higher student allotment, Annette still wasn’t sure what her allotment could get her. Still, this morning they had all offered their individual shopping bags for Annette to use, thus the juggling. Eight bags, because to have refused one might have been taken as an insult by the owner, and Annette didn’t want to alienate any of her tentative friends.

Last night Annette had taken stock of what she had. With her room she had been issued; two pairs of tennis shoes, seven sets of undergarments, one nightshirt, one swimsuit, and five jumpsuits all in one shade of purple or another, then there were five pairs of white socks.
 
Annette could envision prisoners at a maximum security facility receiving the same. That thought was what had decided her on the shopping trip, and how she had come to understand the girl’s shock at the scarcity of her wardrobe. The girls had been wearing color coded jumpsuits for a year already.

Annette finally gave up on juggling shopping bags and folded all but one of them and stuffed them into the unfolded one. Her first shopping priority was shoes. The standard issue ones weren’t the most supportive or comfortable, and Annette knew well that good shoes were a good idea. A major splurge point she was going for was steel toed arch support shoes. The better protected her feet, the more
>
surprises’ she could endure.
 
Socks were next on her list, good ones would hold back blister formation, during endurance training.
 

Annette knew just the booth to find her footwear. She had good socks and
 
a custom fitting pair of boots, in less time than the girls had spent ogling the sandals. Annette almost left the shoe shop at that but a cute pair of sandals caught her eye. They were black leather strap sandals and she did need something dressy so they joined the boots. The shop keeper wrapped up her purchases and helped her bag them, without questioning the matter of if her allotment was sufficient.

The next shop on her list was a shop specializing in embellished jeans, the kind with decorative patches and embroidery. Annette knew they were a fad thing but she wanted at least one cool pair, besides if she ever got assigned to the 1960's she would already have wardrobe.
 
Annette tried on a pair covered in psychedelic flowers from the calf down with a peace sign on the hip pocket, they didn’t fit and Annette put them back.

“You like them?” The salesgirl was quick to ask.

Annette looked up from the rack, there were several other people shopping and she wasn’t used to salespeople being interested in her. “Yeah, I guess, but they don’t fit. I’ll find another pair.”

The salesgirl grabbed the jeans from the rack and stepped over to the register, “One moment,” she ran the bar code, “I can get you a custom pair if you like them. I can have them sent to your quarters.”

Annette cringed, she’d already gotten the custom boots, she wasn’t sure how many custom items she could afford on her allotment. “I don’t know if I can afford them.”
 
The salesgirl chuckled and passed a pad to Annette, the pad showed a level five allotment, something reserved for primary factors and above, way more than a student should have. “That has to be a mistake.”

The salesgirl paused and tapped at the pad, “No, it notes as having been requested by head of factor training, and it is clearly authorized by the Chief herself. So would you like the pants?”

Annette nodded with a dry mouth.

 
“I know just the perfect shirt to go with them.” The salesgirl stepped up to a rack of tie died t-shirts selecting one with a flower on the front and a peace sign on the back, it was way too small,
 
“Just imagine it the right size, wouldn’t they look good together? I’d get the outfit if I had your allotment!”

Annette nodded again, and the salesgirl tapped in the order.

“You want anything else?” The salesgirl asked returning the clothes to the racks.

Annette shook her head and stepped numbly back out onto the main street. She looked up at the projected sky and wondered why Niri and Angela had been so generous. A ripple of light caught Annette’s attention and she glanced towards it quickly enough to see a flicker of the rock above the projected sky show through. She put it off to being a symptom of her post metamorphic sensitivity syndrome, and glanced across the road at her next shopping goal.
 

Her mind fell back to her allotment, level five? Niri probably made the recommendation because Annette had nothing but jumpsuits to wear, but why would Angela have okayed it? Angela had mentioned that Annette had the potential to be a primary factor. Maybe the allotment was Angela’s way of putting weight behind the statement.

Annette glanced upwards, hoping to catch sight of the ceiling again, the image didn’t so much as ripple. Annette stepped across the street, pausing at a shop selling canvas shopping bags. Some had the logos of other Sanctuary shops, those were standard issue. A couple of Annette’s borrowed bags showed the same sort of logos. Other bags
 
had pictures of scenes of natural beauty alien to Sanctuary, and some alien to
 
earth for that matter.
 
Annette selected one showing the various body forms of the dolphin-like
 
Delphine swimming through the
 
zero gee of a starship
 
in front of a view screen image of a blue green planet. It was beautiful. She lifted it from the rack and found the words “Delphine Freedom” printed on the other side along with an indecipherable artist’s signature.

“You like?” The shop keeper, an elderly woman, said with a heavy Tanerian accent, “My ex-mate is paint-placer. He keeps shop on another street. If you like he sell poster of painting. He have many others. He lets me put paintings on bags. They sell good. You buy?”

Annette nodded her head and the woman tottered through a back doorway and she came back with an armload of delphine inspired images carefully printed on canvas sacks. Annette respectfully selected five more and put them in one of her loaner bags with the first.
 
She guessed the girls would appreciate the gifts. Annette knew she planned to hang the extra’s in her quarters as art.
  

The woman tapped at her pop-pad. “Much thanks for you buy. Come back as you will!” The old woman said with a huge grin.

Annette smiled back and hurried on to the shop next door, it was close fronted with a display window divided into several panes. The door was unique in that it had a shiny brass knob and opened out like the ones around Tawny.
 
The window didn’t display clothes and the day before Annette hadn’t even mentioned an interest in the stacks of books it held, but today it was one of her priorities.
 
She turned the knob and opened the door to the jingling of a bell. Inside it smelled of dust and paper, and it was lit dimly enough that Annette felt safe removing her darkened glasses.
 
She tucked them into her pocket and cleared her throat.

“Excuse me, is anyone here?” Annette asked when no one appeared. Silence answered her and she wavered between the desire to buy books and the instinct to leave.
 
Annette noticed a bell sitting on the counter.
 
She rang it and the sound of someone moving at the back of the shop was her reward.

Soon a young man appeared, though he had the shuffling step and stooped posture of one who was very old. He also had the faint odor
 
Annette had come to recognize as belonging to briaunti. “How may I help you young lady?” The man spoke with a trembling voice as if he had more years behind him than the old woman selling shopping bags.

“Yes, I’d like some books about time travel,” Annette answered.

“Fiction, non-fiction, or human theories about it which are in part both,” The man asked opening a particularly large book on his counter. The book like the man was different than first glance would indicate, it’s insides were taken up by a particularly large display screen. He tapped on it while he waited for Annette’s response.

“I’d like some of everything,” Annette answered.

“I think then I will get you a few volumes I liked particularly. Have you read Neremu? DeFallini? Wells? Hawking?” He said in a more deliberate voice as several books levitated their way from the stacks to his counter.

“I’ve read
The Time Machine
by H. G. Wells,” instantly one of the books disappeared from the stack, “and I’ve heard of Hawking but not the other two.” Annette replied looking at the dusty covers now sitting in front of her.

“Neremu is a Tanerian. She wrote a really good book about the stupidity of forgetting the past while you are in it. DeFallini is a bit more difficult to read. He’s briaunti and he writes like Vonnegut. Speaking of which have you read
Slaughter House Five
?” The man’s eyes seemed to read her answer before she could even think it and another volume appeared.
 
“Good, and your allotment is more than sufficient. I hope these volumes are helpful.” He reached over the counter and took one of her shopping bags and began filling it.

Annette left the bookstore weighed down by her purchases, and almost ready to quit shopping because of it. “Man, these are heavy!” she grunted spontaneously.

“Miss, perhaps I can help you with them?” A familiar yet unfamiliar voice twittered from somewhere near Annette’s shoulder. It took her a moment to realize it was coming from her remote pin and belonged to Prima.