“Earl Grey, with cream & sugar.” Grace said. A soft ding sounded, and she opened the beverage dispenser door. Inside sat a steaming cup of tea. Gently she withdrew the hot cup, and left the kitchenette of the hotel suite. “Curtains, open.” She said as she crossed the living room. The curtains whisked aside to let in the morning sun. She glanced out the window, noting the blueness of the sky, and the water far below, before advancing into the sitting room where she had left her Smart Contact to clean and recharge. She sat her tea on the table and carefully retrieved the clear device from the solution tank, lifted her eyelid, and inserted it onto her right eye. She blinked, then blinked again, and the device activated. The time appeared across her vision. Only a few minutes left, she thought as she picked up the small thin half circle headband from the table, turned it over in her hand, and then sat it back down. She had promised Bradlie that she would join her for a tea party. No, correct that, a Princess tea party. And it was nearly time.
She could not get the events of the days before out of her mind. Even after the harrowing escape from the terrorist attack at the convention, and ultimate safe arrival at the hotel, her nerves were still shot. There had been almost an hour before she was able to reach Mason, and know that he was safe. And poor Bradlie. Her mother could barely console her. Dear Mason, had said he would send her a little something as a surprise present, to help get her mind off of what had happened. It had not been the first time they had been front row for such a horrible thing. In the last two years they had survived two such attacks, but never when Bradlie had been there. In fact, several of the Freedom Republic candidates had been attacked in the last few years, including Arthur Johnson, a front runner just a year ago, who had been assassinated during a campaign speech in Des Moines. It was terrifying, but it was also part of life. If a candidate dared to publicly embrace Christianity, it was certain they would face some form of persecution. And sometimes it was violent.
And poor Rod, bless his soul, she thought. He was a good man. A believer. He had been assigned to Grace’s detail for all of the last two years. She had called his wife last night, to give her condolences, and had been shaken by the grieving widow’s strength. God’s will, she had said. And though Grace believed with all her heart in her savior, Jesus Christ, she had a hard time reconciling what had happened. Was it really God’s will that Rod, a husband and father, a faithful man, a man of faith, had to give his life to protect her and her family? How could that be, she thought? How could her time on earth be worth more in the grand scheme of things? How could her life be more important than that of such a good man? What was it that she was meant to do? What could she do to better serve God’s wishes? What could she do, as one person, that could mean so much? She sighed, and took a sip of her tea.
And poor Mason, bless his heart. He was a good man. He had left the suite early this morning to work on his last minute preparations for the debate tonight, but had made sure to remind her of her promise to Bradlie. He had been so comforting after the attack, and assured her that they were perfectly safe. He had immediately arranged for a replacement for her security detail, but Grace had been uncomfortable with the female agent assigned. She was too gruff, too direct, and Grace hated to admit it to herself, but she was concerned with the woman’s ability to protect her. When Grace told Mason of her concerns, without a question he requested another replacement. The new agent would start today, he had said this morning. He had even promised to come back and make the introduction himself. She sighed.
Noticing the time again, she picked up the VirtuaScape band. Even after the horrific events from the attack, her son-in-law, John had done as he had promised, and set her up to use the VirtuaScape contraption. He reasoned that it would be better for Bradlie if she could spend more time with Grace, especially after the attack. But Grace was apprehensive. Though not a luddite, by any means, she did not like change. Especially with the increasing rapidity of changing technology, she grew more and more uncomfortable. She wasn’t afraid of new things, at least she didn’t really think she was. But she could not deny the dread she felt just looking at the VirtuaScape headband. She sat down, as John had said she should, and reached for the device, but just couldn’t quite bring herself to pick it up. Not yet at least. Another glance at the time. A few minutes remained. She sipped her tea, relishing the warmth and sweetness. She sat the cup down, gave a brief sigh, and picked up the headband. Carefully she positioned it around the rear crown of her head, as John had shown her.
Within a few seconds, she felt a tingle at the base of her neck. She gasped, and almost pulled the band off her head. But she recalled John’s explicit instructions. A tingling was normal, he had said. Something to do with the device synching with the interface, or some such techno-babble crap, she thought. The tingling came in waves now, a low rhythmic sensation, that made her mind begin to fall in on itself. She tried to fight the feeling. She tried to lift her hands to remove the band, but she couldn’t. She felt as if her entire body had suddenly become paralyzed. Fear welled up inside her, as darkness overtook her. All sound ceased. It was nothingness. No sensations. No Light. No sense of touch or taste. She was alone. Utterly and completely alone as she had never been before in her life. And she was terrified. Help, she thought. I need help. Suddenly, before her eyes, a menu screen appeared, floating just in front of her eyes in the darkness.
There were several choices on the hovering menu screen, HELP being the one currently highlighted. Shocked, but slowly calming down, John’s words came back to her. If you need help, he had said, just think, help. She couldn’t help but laugh at the fear she had felt just moments before. She focused on another menu option, and it became highlighted. Princess Tea Party, it said. That was what she wanted. Suddenly the menu screen flew away, and another screen presented her with but one option. Bradlie was highlighted. This was it. Again the menu flew away and left her in total darkness. Once more she felt a sensation at the base of her neck, and then gradually the ambiance around her began to brighten. Very slowly at first, almost imperceptibly, and then suddenly the entire room surrounded her.
She was in a Medieval era tea parlor. Still seated, she glanced around the massive room. The walls were of rough hewn stone. The huge fireplace was ablaze, and she could feel the warmth from the flames across the room. Ornate tapestries adorned one wall, full size suits of gleaming armor lined another. Amazed at the opulence of the surroundings, she leapt to her feet. She caught her foot in the leg of the chair where she had sat, and nearly fell. A last second grasp of the chair arm kept her from hitting the ground. As she raised back up, and let her hand uncurl from the arm of the chair, she realized that it was made of gold. Beautifully gilded with intricate carvings, inlaid jewels, and what must have been ivory. She had never seen such a beautiful piece before. Bright light sparkled in her eyes, and she noticed the large window on the remaining wall. Cautiously she stepped towards it.
Looking out, she could see that she was high up, several stories in fact, and below her, the walls were made of huge blocks of stone. Massive stones, fitted together with the precision of a mason’s hands. Beneath the stonework, an ornate draw bridge joined the castle entrance with the vast green meadow beyond the great moat. Meadow grasses waived gently in the wind as far as she could see, and the flowery scent drifted around her. Amazed, she let her hand rest on the stone window sill and marveled at the warmth of the sun she felt from its rough finish.
“Good day, me Lady.” A voice startled her from behind. She spun around, as a young maiden sat a glistening silver tea service on a table near the fireplace. Grace noticed the simplicity of her dress, and the odd braiding of her long hair. Grace stepped towards her when she realized that she herself was wearing a heavy floor length dress. The material was velvet like to the touch, and a deep maroon in color. With each step across the flagstone floor, the dress swayed and billowed. She giggled, and spun around. The dress blossomed around her.
“Beautiful.” She said.
“Aye, me Lady. It ‘tis
.” The young girl said with a heavy Scottish accent, and gave a short curtsy. “The Princess Bradlie is on her way up now, me Lady. Shall there be anything else?” She asked. Grace took the final steps to approach her, yet the girl shied away from her.
“It’s okay.” Grace said softly. “I just want to have a look at you.” Again she stepped closer. This time the girl stayed still, but was obviously uncomfortable at the scrutiny. Grace reached up and gently traced her hand up one of the girl’s braids. The hair was fine to the touch, and the braiding quite detailed and artistic. She bent closer and sniffed. No perfume, just the smell of slight sweat. An earthly smell.
“Me, Lady?” The girl asked. Grace touched the bare skin of her arm. It was soft and warm. “Me, Lady!” The girl exclaimed, snatching her arm away, and rushing towards the door. She gave a last puzzled look back, curtsied, and hurriedly left the room. Grace laughed.
“Amazing.” she said. She glanced again around the room, and then saw it. Above the fireplace hung a huge framed canvas. In the center, standing next to her trusty white steed, was a beautiful young woman. The immaculate dress flowed down her body in graceful swaying lines. The jeweled tiara atop her head glistened in the hauntingly painted light. But no light, real or painted could compete with her smile. It was Bradlie.
“Grandma?” Grace turned, and there she was. Wearing a long flowing white gown, encrusted with jewels.
“Bradlie!” She exclaimed, not noticing the serious look on her granddaughter’s face.
“Oh, Grand Mama. It is Princess Bradlie, if you please.” She said with an extreme note of exaggeration. Grace looked at her, dumbfounded. Bradlie burst into laughter, and ran to her, her skirt billowed behind her. She wrapped her arms around Grace, who hugged her back as eagerly. Grace bent down and kissed her forehead.
“Isn’t this cool?” Bradlie said.
“It’s...amazing.” Grace replied, as they held hands and both surveyed the room.
“Oh, look. Glenda brought tea!” Bradlie said, racing to the table.
“Glenda?”
“Yeah, Glenda. That’s what I call her.”
“Like from the Wizard of Oz, Glenda?” Grace asked.
“Nah, just Glenda. I like that name.”
“But what’s her real name?”
“She doesn’t have one.”
“How can she not have a name?” Grace asked, clearly perplexed now.
“Because she’s not real.” Bradlie explained as she began to pour the steaming aromatic tea into the tiny silver cups. And for a moment the answer had caught Grace off guard. She was right, the girl was not real. None of this was real, no matter how very real it seemed. She tucked her dress behind her and slid into the chair.
“Cream?” Bradlie asked. Grace nodded, as she still pondered the extreme realism she was experiencing. Bradlie added cream to both cups, and then asked about sugar. Again Grace nodded, and Bradlie ladled several spoonfuls into the cup, and gave it a quick stir. She carefully picked it up and handed it to Grace. The warmth of the liquid came through the metal of the cup, and was almost to warm to hold comfortably. The aroma of the steam was intoxicating, mouthwatering peppermint with a hint of vanilla. Grace brought the cup to her lips and took a small sip. The tea was almost too hot, but not so hot that it burned her tongue. The mint was refreshing. The silky texture of the cream rolled through her mouth, and the sweetness coupled with the vanilla made it scrumptious.
“Delightful!” She exclaimed.
“Isn’t it though, Grand Mama.” Bradlie said with a flair, finishing her first sip. “Pinkies up!” She said, as she wiggled her pinky in the air.
“Pinkies up.” Grace replied, mimicking her granddaughter, and wiggled her pinky as well. “Are those crumpets?” She said, pointing at the baked morsels arranged on the silver tray.
“Why no, Grand Mama. No plain old crumpets for us princesses. Those are scones!”
“Scones? And what do you know of scones little one?”
“That’s Princess little one, Grandma.” She giggled. “I know they taste good.” She said as she picked one up and took a bite. Grace reached across and selected one for herself. The biscuit felt rough to the touch, and as she brought it to her mouth, she could smell the bitter sweet scent of blueberry. The light caught the crystallized sugared top and sparkled. She took a small bite. The taste was exquisite, with a firm outer crust, flaky pastry inside, and a hint of blueberry. She was amazed. Suddenly there was movement in her peripheral vision. She turned just in time to see a small gray and white striped tabby kitten leap to the window sill.
“And who have we here?” Grace asked.
“Oh, that’s Miss Kitty. Isn’t she pretty?” Grace nodded, as she watched the tiny thing lick its paws. Satisfied that they were clean, Miss Kitty then turned around several times, and settled down in the warmth of the sunshine. She laid her head across her paws and stared lazily at Grace. The kitten opened her eyes, and the light reflected out of her irises, with a saturated blue that would rival the most azure Caribbean waters. Grace gasped.
“She is beautiful!” She exclaimed. She had never seen such a beautiful irradiant blue before. She rose up and stepped slowly towards the window. Miss Kitty watched her warily, but did not move. Grace took another step, and was suddenly startled by a flicker of darkness across her vision. It came again, and she felt her balance shift. She quickly raised her arms to keep from falling, when again a dark flash hit her.
“Grandma?” Bradlie asked, the worry evident in her voice. And just like that, it was gone. Her balance returned, her vision cleared, and all was well. She looked around the room, and everything was as it had been. She smiled at Bradlie.
“I’m fine.” She said, and turned back to Miss Kitty. She had not moved. The kitten still lay lazily in the sun. Grace stepped a little closer, and noticed that the kitten’s eye color had changed. Now her eyes irradiated with a pale green. She stepped a little closer, and suddenly Miss Kitty had had enough. She jumped form the window sill, and shot through the doorway, tail held high behind her.
“Bradlie, dear? What color are Miss Kitty’s eyes?” She asked her granddaughter as she walked back to her chair.
“Green, Grandma. Weren’t they pretty?”
“Yes.” Grace replied calmly, but confused. It must have been a play of the light, she thought. Just the angle, that was all. She sat back down and the two of them continued their princess tea party in the grandest style, also careful to keep their pinkies up. When another hour had passed, it was time for the party to come to an end. They hugged, kissed, and Princess Bradlie left the room. Grace sat back in the chair, closed her eyes, and relaxed. A few seconds passed without event, and just as she was about to open her eyes, the menu appeared in her mind. The word, exit, was highlighted. She mentally selected the option. She felt the warmth of the room fall away from her, the crackling from the fireplace ceased, and once again she felt alone in a void. Seconds ticked by, as her pulse began to race. Fear once again welled up in her even though she knew that she was perfectly safe. Seconds ticked by in the darkness, and then gradually the room swam into focus.
She was back in the hotel. She took a deep breath and exhaled, slowly gathering herself. Absentmindedly she pulled the VirtuaScape band from her head, and rubbed her eyes. A message appeared across her vision on her Smart Contact. Thanks, Grandma! It was a blast! Though a bit shaken from the experience, she couldn’t help but smile. Little Bradlie was right. It had been a blast. Sure, a little scary at first. But it had been amazing. Everything had been so real. Almost too real, she thought as she got up. She picked up her tea cup, and thought it odd that it still felt warm. She took a sip, and realized the temperature had not changed much at all from when she had sat it down hours ago. She blinked and checked the time. Only fifteen minutes had passed since she had begun the VirtuaScape event. How could that be? Only fifteen minutes. She and Bradlie had talked for hours, drank tea, and ate scones. They had even played Old Maid and Go Fish. How could only fif
teen minutes have passed, she wondered.
She sent John a message asking about the time lapse. He responded almost immediately with an answer that was way over her head. Something about time dilation, synapse stimulation, electromagnetic delta waves, and several other things that Grace could care less about. In essence, he had said that it was normal and don’t worry about it. Okay, Grace thought, that’s good enough for me. She rose from the chair, tea in hand, and walked back into the living room. There was an air of gloom in the room, dark behind the thick draperies.
“Curtains, open.” She said, and the drapes whisked open, letting the warmth of the sunlight shine in. Grace smiled.
Chapter 4