Chapter 2
Ambition and Expectations
Stembridge Colonial University
Drake’s Landing
Albion Prime
Effie Lancaster tried not to fidget in her chair as she waited, sitting at a large meeting table in the conference room, across from a cluster of large screens that covered the far wall. Her hands were folded neatly on the table in front of her and she made sure not to slouch. She’d dressed properly for the occasion, wearing a well-tailored, double-breasted tweed jacket with a full peplum, dark blue in color, and a matching skirt. Under the blazer she sported a white blouse and a blue necktie. Her long, auburn hair was done up in a lovely French braid. She’d even put on a little makeup, something she almost never did.
It was a big day, though, and Effie had worked very hard to get where she was. She’d first dreamt up then spearheaded a bold, ambitious proposal: the first off-world, scientific expedition sponsored by Stembridge Colonial University in decades! Today the University Board of Regents would decide if they would fund the proposal or not.
She’d put in many late nights planning the logistics of the mission: how many people would go, how long the journey would take, how much equipment they could bring with them, and what the insurance requirements were for such a thing. Effie had contacted no fewer than five for-hire starships to get estimates of how much it would cost to charter them for the expedition. She’d researched each vessel to ensure it met the requirements of her proposal, including having the correct type of orbit-to-surface lander.
Most importantly, after careful analysis, she had determined the best possible destination for the expedition, when factors like budgetary and time constraints were considered: Dakota, a K-type, main-sequence star some twenty-nine light-years from Albion. The Dakota System had five major planets, including an ice giant farthest out from the sun, two gas giants, and one sun-scorched, barren rock too close to the star to even have an atmosphere.
The second planet from the sun, Ishtakhaba, was a different matter. Situated in the middle of the Dakota’s habitable zone, this small world had abundant water and was teeming with life. Between its low gravity and the dense, methane-rich atmosphere, it was never considered for colonization, and the world remained pristine. Cartographic surveys had been done before, and the world had been visited by several survey expeditions, but none of those efforts focused on describing and taxonomically describing the native life.
There was only so much they could do in one expedition, Effie thought; a handful of researchers couldn’t hope to record more than the smallest fraction of the life on an entire planet by themselves. That wasn’t the point, however; the real purpose of the expedition was to enable the university Astrobiology Department to actually go out into the field for the first time in a very long time.
After weeks of effort to put the proposal together, her department chair, Dr. Gregg Moss, had signed off on the whole thing and submitted it to the Board of Regents for consideration. Now he sat next to her, wearing a proper suit and one of his bow ties. He’d even combed his messy shock of gray hair! Behind her, sitting in chairs against the back wall, were some of her fellow researchers from the Astrobiology Department. They’d come along to show their support.
On the screens were video feeds of the fourteen members of the Board of Regents, as well as one of the person they were currently speaking to. The sound was turned down, but an on-screen indicator went from red to yellow, telling them that the Board would address them next. Effie’s heart immediately started racing.
As if reading her mind, Dr. Moss leaned over and quietly spoke to Effie. “Remember to breathe, Ophelia,” he said. “Don’t lock your knees.”
She gave him a quick smile. He told everyone not to lock their knees, regardless of the situation they were going into. Effie had to admit, though, that in most situations, locking your knees would indeed make things worse. She stood up, taking a moment to straighten her skirt, and walked around the table to the front of the room. There was a narrow podium there with microphone built into it. After a few moments, the indicator light turned green, and Effie had a live connection to the Board of Regents.
An off-screen secretary read aloud what the Board would take up next. “The next business is a proposal from the Astrobiology Department. Miss Ophelia Lancaster, an on-staff researcher and postgraduate student, has proposed that the University fund an off-world, astrobiological survey mission, for the purpose of cataloguing previously undescribed alien species.”
It was Effie’s turn to speak. “That is correct,” she said. “I would like to thank the Board for taking the time to consider my submission.”
The one to address her was Professor Emeritus Tiberius Hardbottle, the Chairman of the Board of Regents himself! Effie folded her hands behind her back in an attempt to keep them still and had to consciously remind herself not to lock her knees.
“Good evening, Miss Lancaster,” Professor Hardbottle said. “When your proposal came to the Board, I looked it over with great interest. It has indeed been a long time since this hallowed institution has undertaken such an ambitious endeavor.” He smiled. He was an elderly man, with wrinkled skin and no hair on his head, but his eyes were sharp. “In fact, the last such effort was when I was still teaching, and I am by far the eldest member of the Board!” The other Regents chuckled. Effie allowed herself to crack a smile but said nothing.
“Unfortunately,” the Professor continued, and Effie’s heart immediately sank. It was all she could do to maintain her composure. “…we were not able to secure the necessary funding for the expedition. I want you to know that we on the Board voted to approve the project. By law, however, we had to seek authorization from the Commonwealth Ministry of Education for such a large expenditure that was outside of the approved budget. The Ministry, I’m afraid, didn’t agree with us that this is a good use of taxpayer monies.”
“I…understand,” Effie said. She kept her chin up, but her eyes looked down to the floor. “Thank you for your time and for your consideration.”
“Miss Lancaster,” Professor Hardbottle said, and Effie looked back up at the screens. “It was a bold proposal. Your father, God rest his soul, was a student of mine, many years ago, and I’m confident that he would be proud. The Ministry is under political pressure to control costs at the moment, and I’m afraid they overruled us this time. The accountants and auditors at the Ministry don’t hold the natural sciences in the esteem that they should. The government is only interested in biology as it can be applied to planetary engineering. For anything off-world, they seem to think it would be more economical to contract the work out.”
Effie nodded but didn’t say anything.
“I want to state for the record that I do not agree with the Ministry’s assessment. The benefits of Albion Prime launching its first scientific research expedition in generations would extend beyond whatever piddling cost savings might be achieved by hiring someone else to do it for us, and I told them as much. I would strongly recommend that you re-submit your proposal next year. You have a much better chance of getting it pre-approved for the next three-year budget cycle,” the aged Professor Emeritus said.
“I will do that, Professor,” Effie replied. “Thank you.” With only a nod from the Professor, the two-way connection was severed, and the Board went on to the next topic. Effie exhaled heavily and made her way back to her chair. Once in her seat, she rested her elbows on the table and held her head in her hands.
Dr. Moss gently put a hand on Effie’s shoulder and leaned in close to her. “I’m sorry.”
She looked over at him. “I always knew it was a long shot. Still…I dared to hope. I suppose I shouldn’t have.”
“It’s not a total loss,” the department chair said. “The Board of Regents approved! That’s very good news.”
“I know,” Effie said. “Would you…would you excuse me, please?”
“Of course, my dear.”
Effie got up and quietly left the conference room. She hurried down the hall and turned into the ladies’ washroom. Relieved to find she was alone, she let loose the tears she’d been holding back. It wouldn’t have done to let Dr. Moss see her cry, it wouldn’t have done at all.
She studied herself in the mirror as she used a hand towel to dry her eyes. Her face was flushed from the rush of emotion, and with a complexion as fair as hers, there was no hiding it. While she and Eddy were technically fraternal twins, not identical ones, the resemblance was so strong no one would mistake them for anything but family. Effie had never considered herself one of the prettier girls; in fact, her Aunt Deidre had once described her, much to her horror, as a handsome young woman. She was shorter than her brother and of slighter build, but there was much similarity in their faces.
Effie was startled as the lavatory door slid open. She was relieved to see that it was Grace, her friend and fellow researcher from the Astrobiology Department. “Hullo, Grace,” she said, glumly.
“Are you alright, Effie?” Grace asked, almost waddling into the washroom. Grace was no taller than Effie but was more petite, which made the fact that she was two-thirds of the way through her pregnancy all the more apparent.
“I’m fine,” Effie said. “You didn’t have to come looking for me.”
“You’re not fine,” her friend insisted. “I wanted to check on you.” She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Effie.
“Thank you,” Effie said, hugging Grace back. She stepped back, sniffled, and wiped her eyes again. “It’s just…we put so much effort into it, so many late nights. We planned everything down to the smallest detail. We even got the Board to agree to it, and for what? For some damned government bureaucrats to decide it’s not worth spending money on?” She shook her head. “The Classical Arts Department has a bigger budget than we do. None of us have ever been able to study alien life in its native habitat. It’s bloody unfair.”
Grace reached out and touched Effie’s hand. “It is, but we mustn’t give up. It may take us two or three years, but we will get another chance. We can still make this happen.”
“You’re right, of course,” Effie said, but she wasn’t so sure.
“Are you sure you’re alright, Effie?” Grace asked.
Effie sighed. “Honestly? No, not at the moment, but I will be. It’s just been a hard day.”
“I was cheering for you as well,” Grace said, “even though I wasn’t going to be able to go. I was excited to see what you’d come back with.” She was quiet for a moment. “I wanted to ask you if you’d like to come to the shower this weekend.”
“Shower?” Effie asked.
Grace smiled. “My baby shower, silly. I didn’t want to put you on the spot, especially after today. It’s quite alright if you don’t want to go.” She gave Effie a knowing look. This could be a sensitive topic for her.
“That’s very kind of you,” Effie said. “Would you mind if I gave you my gift later? I think…I think this weekend I might just want to stay in.”
“I wouldn’t mind at all,” Grace insisted. She leaned forward and awkwardly hugged Effie again. After a couple seconds, Grace suddenly pulled back from their embrace, eyes wide.
“Something the matter?” Effie asked.
“No, no,” Grace said, hurrying toward one of the cubicles. “I need to have a wee, is all. It comes on with little warning lately!” She closed the door behind her.
The Berkeley Mansions
Mayfair District, Drake’s Landing
Albion Prime
Eddy Lancaster sat in his favorite lounger, with his feet up, as he scrolled the newsfeeds on his personal codex. He didn’t habitually pay much attention to the news, greatly preferring not to burden himself with the troubles of the world—there was no sense in getting all worked up over things that were out of one’s control, after all. Every so often, though, he would get curious and read up on current events, if for no other reason than to not appear ignorant if it came up in conversation.
Looking up from the screen of his codex, he took a moment to enjoy the view out the window. It was a lovely Sunday morning; the sun was shining and puffy white clouds slowly drifted across an intensely blue sky. Merlin, Albion Prime’s single moon, was visible in the sky. The city of Drake’s Landing, a sprawling megalopolis of twelve million people and the capital of the Commonwealth, stretched out to the north. Massive skyscrapers gleamed in the morning sun in the distance, towering pillars of metal and glass. Looming over them all, rising to a dizzying two-and-a-half kilometers into the sky, was The Shard of Albion, the tallest building on the planet and the city’s most prominent landmark.
Eddy’s own building was minuscule compared to the titans of the downtown skyline. The illustrious title notwithstanding, the Berkeley Mansions were not very mansion-like at all. They were in fact a series of luxury apartment buildings, none more than six stories high. Like many structures in the Mayfair District, they were relics of an earlier era, refurbished and remodeled multiple times over the years. From what he understood, his building had once been a housing unit for dozens of colonists.
Despite the humble origins of the structure, his flat was large, quite nice, and came equipped with every modern convenience. The rooms were spacious and well-furnished, with plush carpet and polished hardwood covering the ceramicrete floor. Soundproofed walls made for a quiet home, and one was rarely bothered by noise from either the other units or the street outside.
As far as apartments in Drake’s Landing went, Eddy’s was quite large and took up fully half of the sixth floor of his building. There was a master bedroom with its own washroom, a guest bedroom, a main washroom, a spacious living area, a separate dining area, and a full kitchen. There was a cozy study off the main room, where Eddy’s lounger chair was located, complete with a small fireplace. There was even a smaller, attached apartment with its own bedroom, bath, and separate entrance, that could be used as a servant’s quarters or as guest accommodations.
The luxurious flat was nonetheless unimpressive when compared to his ancestral home, the Lancaster Estate, where his eldest brother Cedric was now head-of-household. His older brother Leonard owned a large home in the outskirts of the city, one that similarly dwarfed any unit of the so-called Berkeley Mansions. Unlike his brothers, however, Eddy was a bachelor and was quite content with his current dwelling. Eddy was happy with his uncluttered, streamlined lifestyle, free from an overabundance of life’s accumulated rubbish.
Eddy was prone to daydreaming and realized he was doing so again. He stopped gazing out the window and focused on the screen of his codex once more, determined to finish the rather dry and overlong article he’d begun. It was in the financial news section of The Times of Drake’s Landing. It seemed Parliament had just passed legislation that would raise income and property taxes on the Peerage, which included Eddy. He’d have to remember to consult with his financial planner as the entirety of his income came from his family’s holdings. Or, rather, his personal valet would remind him to consult with his financial planner. “Say, Mason?” Eddy said, raising his voice slightly to make himself heard. “Could you come in here for a moment?”
Mason stepped through the doorway to the study, his hands folded behind his back. He was a tall man, with broad shoulders and chiseled features. His appearance was impeccable, as always. His slacks, dark gray in color, were evenly creased, and his shoes were shined. His white dress shirt was pressed with a buttoned collar. His silk necktie was tied with a perfect Windsor knot and tucked into his light gray waistcoat. “Yes, sir?” he asked.
“According to The Times,” Eddy said, “it seems my taxes will be going up in the next fiscal year. Would you be so kind as to contact my accountant and schedule a consultation?”
Mason cocked his head slightly to the side and spoke precisely. “We are still many months away from tax season, sir.”
Eddy always thought Mason had a gravely sympathetic face, as if he was all at once taking your concerns seriously while patiently listening to you out of pity. “We are, yes, but if I don’t say something now I’ll forget,” he said.
“As it happens, I took the liberty of contacting Mr. Kendrick last week, after the new revenue bill passed in Parliament,” Mason said, referring to Eddy’s accountant. “He is aware of the coming changes in the tax code and is working on adjusting your withholdings so that the funds will be set aside to cover your tax liabilities for each quarter of the next fiscal year.”
Eddy blinked a couple of times, then smiled. “Good man, Mason. You never cease to impress me.” Mason wasn’t a member of the Peerage and was, from what Eddy understood, an immigrant to Albion Prime. As a commoner, he was not subject to direct taxation. No, the government of the Commonwealth was content to tax the majority of its citizenry in a myriad of other ways, including sales duties and transactional levies, but only Peers were required to pay personal income taxes. Still, for a man who didn’t even have to pay the bloody taxes, Eddy was confident that his valet was more familiar with the revenue code than he was.
“Thank you,” Mason said. “Was there anything else?”
Eddy remembered the message from his aunt. “As a matter of fact there is. It seems Aunt Deidre has gone and set me up on another blind date.”
Mason raised an eyebrow. “I see. May I enquire who the lucky girl is this time?”
“Stephanie Stanley-Stark of the Clarington Stanley-Starks,” Eddy said. “You’ve heard of the Clarington Stanley-Starks, I assume?”
“Indeed, I have, sir,” Mason said.
“Smashing, because I haven’t.”
“Zachary Stanley-Stark, Miss Stephanie’s father, was a friend of your father’s. He and his wife attended your parents’ funeral, if I’m not mistaken.”
“Really? I can’t say I remember.” Hundreds of people from dozens of notable Peer families had shown up at the funeral. Eddy had been an adolescent at the time and couldn’t remember all the well-wishers who’d shown up to offer condolences. “How do you know of them?”
“I had the pleasure of serving in their household staff some years ago,” Mason explained, “as an apprentice in the Domestic Servants Guild.”
“Is that so?” Eddy asked. “It’s a small world after all.”
“Yes, sir. The Stanley-Starks are a quite respected family. The Stanleys are descended from Roger and Miriam Stanley, a rather wealthy couple from Earth who were among the original colonists. If memory serves, Marcus Stark immigrated to Albion much later. He was granted the Peerage for his service in the Second Terran-Cepheid War and became a commissioned officer in the Commonwealth Defense Forces. He later married Annika Stanley and the rest, as they say, is history.”
“Mason, old man, you are a veritable encyclopedia of arcane lore regarding the gentry of this planet.”
Mason seemed quietly pleased with that remark. “Thank you, sir. Am I to presume that you have some trepidation about taking young Miss Stanley-Stark out?”
“You presume correctly, yes. I believe a picnic luncheon was suggested.”
The valet furled his brow, thoughtfully, and took few steps further into the study. “If I may ask, what is the source of this trepidation? I mean to say, what is it you are concerned about?”
“You know how it is. My dear Aunt Deidre speaks with the family of one or another bachelorette-of-means, and the next thing I know I’m obligated to take the bird out and show her a good time. No one asks my opinion of the matter beforehand, and I always find myself trying to connect with a complete stranger. There’s no romance, no chemistry, just a familial duty for Edwin Lancaster.” Eddy sighed. “‘Be a dear and take this young lass out,’” he said, doing a convincing impression of his aunt. “‘She comes from a very good family! You need to be thinking about settling down.’”
Mason nodded, knowingly. “Your aunt means well, sir.”
“I know she does,” Eddy acknowledged. “That’s why I can never bring myself to say no.” Deidre was a widow, having lost her husband in the same accident that claimed Eddy’s parents. Eddy and Effie were children at the time and Deidre had practically raised them as her own afterward. They had all overcome a terrible family tragedy together, and Eddy loved his aunt dearly. She was, however, often a bit much, and had a lot of free time on her hands. He continued, “I just wish she would leave my love life to me. I’m quite capable of meeting women on my own.”
Mason raised an eyebrow again. “Of course.”
“You don’t believe me!” Eddy said.
“Forgive me, sir, I don’t mean to make insinuations. It’s just that it’s been a rather long time since you’ve dated of your own accord.”
That was true, Eddy had to admit, but why did that matter? “What of it? I’m hardly some washed-up derelict in danger of dying alone. Everyone is in a hurry except me.” Eddy sighed. “Complaining to you about the social expectations of the Peerage doesn’t accomplish anything, does it?”
“I’m afraid not,” Mason said, with a slight consoling tone, “but, if I may, it’s merely a picnic luncheon. As I understand it Miss Stanley-Stark is quite comely, and I haven’t heard any unpleasant rumors involving her. She’s not attempting to live her life as an…influencer.” There was a very subtle sneer in his voice as he said that word. The valet didn’t think highly of attention-seeking social media personalities and hadn’t cared for Piper Sutherland. Peers using mass social media at all was considered uncouth in the first place, even if, as in Piper’s case, it was all done through her public relations manager.
Mason held up his arm and pulled back the sleeve of his shirt slightly, revealing the small codex mounted on the underside of his left wrist. “Excuse me, a message from Miss Ophelia. She’d like you to know that she’s on her way over for lunch.”
“Lunch! Of course,” Eddy said. He shook his head. “We have a Saturday luncheon at least once a month and somehow I always forget. Her proposal to the University Board of Regents was rejected and she’s taking it rather hard. Let’s do something nice for her, try and cheer her up.”
Mason nodded again. “Leave everything to me.” He turned to leave the study but stayed. “A thought occurs, regarding your predicament with Miss Stanley-Stark.”
“I suppose it’s a bit of a stretch to call a date with a pretty young woman a predicament,” Eddy admitted, “but I’m concerned that this will only lead to my being saddled with further expectations, regardless of my opinion on the matter.”
“Indeed, sir. However, during my days in the service, it was understood that often the best way to deal with an ill-conceived regulation was to adhere to it strictly and ardently. Do this long enough and leadership would see how ill-conceived it actually was.”
Eddy was intrigued. “Mason, you scoundrel, tell me more.”
“Mason!” Effie said, throwing her arms around the valet as she entered Eddy’s apartment. “It’s so good to see you!”
Mason, for his part, reciprocated with only the lightest pat on her shoulder. Effie was a hugger and Mason emphatically was not. She knew that, too, but did it anyway, something that was an endless source of amusement for Eddy. “It’s good to see you as well, miss,” the valet said. Once she let go of him he stood up straight, smoothing wrinkles out of his waistcoat.
Eddy crossed the foyer and hugged his sister as well. “Hullo, Awful-ia,” he said.
That got a weak smile out of her. “Hullo yourself, Ed-worm. Thank you for having me over.”
“Nonsense,” Eddy said, “you’re always welcome, you know that.”
“Lunch is almost ready,” Mason said.
“It smells lovely,” Effie said. “What’s on the menu?”
“Today’s main course will be roast pork medallions with autumn fruits, miss,” Mason said. “It should be ready in a few minutes. May I take your coat?”
Once they were seated at the table, Mason excused himself and disappeared into the kitchen. Eddy poured himself a glass of flavored seltzer water and chatted with his sister about nothing of consequence, not wanting to bring up her troubles before she’d been able to enjoy her meal.
Eddy’s kitchen was equipped with a seldom-used autochef. It was simple enough to operate—one needed only to select the desired meal from the available list and, if the necessary ingredients were loaded into the system, robotic arms would unfold from the ceiling to prepare it. It worked well enough, but Mason only used it if there was no other option. In fact, he seemed to take quiet offense if you suggested he do it the easy way.
That suited Eddy well enough—Mason was an excellent chef and Eddy was quite fond of his cooking. He liked to think he didn’t lead an especially opulent lifestyle, given his family’s fortune, but enjoying hand-prepared meals on the regular was one of his favorite indulgences.
Mason returned from the kitchen a few minutes later, a silver platter in his hands. “Lunch is served,” he said, setting the tray down on the table.
“It looks delicious,” Effie said.
“Indeed,” Eddy agreed. “Thank you, Mason.”
“My pleasure, sir. Do let me know if you’d like anything else.” After he’d finished serving the roast pork, he withdrew back to the kitchen, leaving the twins alone to talk.
“Why doesn’t he ever join us?” Effie asked.
“I’ve told him he’s welcome to,” Eddy explained, digging into his meal with a fork and knife. “He takes his meals in the kitchen and insists that eating with your client is improper, against Guild protocol or some such. The staff at home had the same rule, don’t you remember?”
“I do,” Effie said, “but it seems odd sometimes that he’s so formal with you when it’s just the two of you living here.”
Eddy chewed his food and swallowed before speaking. “The Guild is the Guild, whether there’s one of them or a dozen. That aloof professionalism is part of the package, as it were. I suppose it makes a certain amount sense. It’s probably easy to let standards go by the wayside when you cohabitate with your client for years on end.”
“I guess so,” Effie said. “Still, I think it’s a little unfair that you got your own personal valet, and I didn’t.”
“Yes, well, the family didn’t think you needed a babysitter,” Eddy said. “You managed to get through your university days unscathed.” It had been made clear to Eddy that if he wanted to remain in good standing with the family (and maintain access to his trust fund before it matured and was released to him in full), he needed to retain the services of Mr. Mason. His salary and the associated Guild fees were paid from the family fortune, not Eddy’s personal living allowance. All the better, because Eddy would struggle to afford a valet of Mason’s caliber and pay the lease on his apartment at the same time. He’d have to consider downsizing, or worse, finding work, and that was a dreadful thought indeed.
“I know Cedric and Aunt Deidre were insistent about hiring Mason,” Effie said, “but it was for the best, wasn’t it? I for one adore him.”
“I resented it at first,” Eddy admitted, “but I daresay I don’t know how I’d get on without him now. In any case,” he said, cutting off another piece of pork roast, “the food alone makes him worth it.”
Once the meal was finished, Mason returned to the dining table and cleared the dishes. At Eddy’s request he brought out drinks for the twins—a gin and tonic for Eddy and a glass of red wine for his sister.
“It’s a shame about your expedition,” Eddy said, gently. He paused to sip his drink. “I know how much it meant to you.”
Effie sipped her wine and shook her head, slowly. “It wasn’t just the months I spent in planning,” she said. “It’s frustrating enough that all of that effort was for nothing, but the journey to Ishtakhaba was going to be the basis of my doctoral dissertation.”
Eddy was content with his bachelor’s degree in business and didn’t share Effie’s love of academic research, but he tried to be understanding. “Can’t you, I don’t know, write a dissertation about something else?”
“I can,” Effie said, “but I don’t want to write it about something else. It’s not even about the dissertation, I just…” She trailed off, shaking her head again. “I just wanted to go out and do something, for once in my life.”
“It hasn’t been so bad, has it?” Eddy asked.
“I know how I must sound,” Effie said, “but I’m really not some spoiled brat. You and I are both very fortunate. Yes, there have been difficult times, but on the balance our lives have been…well, they’ve been rather charmed.”
“I agree,” Eddy said, pausing to sip his drink again. “Hence my suggestion that it’s not been so bad.”
“That’s just the thing! My whole life has been comfortable and safe. My research, such as it is, consists of reading data that comes from off-world. Once in a rare while we get an actual biological sample in. Ever since I was a girl, I’ve dreamed of off-world adventures, of exploring new planets and studying the life there. I worked so hard to get where I am and it feels like…” She trailed off and sighed before looking at Eddy again. “It sometimes feels like it was all for nothing. Perhaps I’ve just been a fool. I knew the state of the Astrobiology Department when I began my graduate studies. I shouldn’t be surprised that it hasn’t changed.”
“Now hold on,” Eddy said. “In that message you sent me, you said that the Chairman of the Board of Regents himself voted for your proposal, and that the issue was with government funding. He said to resubmit it for the next budget plan, did he not?”
“He did,” Effie said, “but the earliest I could submit it is next year. Even if the budget were to be approved, it could be anywhere from two to four years before the expedition got off the ground. I would hope that I’d have earned my doctorate by then.”
“Granted, you’d still have to come up with something else for your dissertation, but actually launching this expedition remains a possibility, doesn’t it? Perhaps it’s a little early for despair.”
“There’s no guarantee that I’ll even get to go by then,” Effie said, “but it’s not just that. I suppose I’ve been reexamining my life, as they say. Focusing on this project for so long allowed me to not focus on anything else. With that taken away, there’s nothing left to do but focus on everything else, and it’s left me rather gloomy.”
Eddy wasn’t used to seeing his sister like this. Usually she was optimistic, upbeat. This business with her survey expedition had left her living under a cloud, it seemed. “May I ask why? You’re doing what you always wanted to do, aren’t you?”
“I am, but it hasn’t been as satisfying as I’d hoped. It’s not just this, either. This feeling has been building for quite some time. I think about where I’ll be in, say, ten or twenty years, and I don’t know that I like it.”
“What is it that you fear?” Eddy asked. “I can’t imagine you’ll end up destitute or living on the streets.”
“No, nothing like that. I just see myself turning into a lonely old spinster, doomed to spend the rest of my years in academia. I’ll be a professor, teaching similarly doomed students about xenology and survey astrobiology without ever actually having done it.” Effie sipped her wine and looked at Eddy again. “Even now, I don’t have a life outside of the University. I’m not, you know, seeing anyone. In fact I haven’t dated anyone in years.”
“Nor have I,” Eddy said, trying to sound comforting. “There’s no rush, despite what Aunt Deidre thinks.”
“I know, but you at least have your mates at that silly club. Now that I’ve stopped to think about it, I don’t have any real friends outside of the University, either, and most of the ones I do have are settling down. My friend Grace will be having her first child soon.” Effie paused and cast her eyes downward. “She seems so happy.”
So that’s what this is about, Eddy thought. It wasn’t just that her expedition was declined; her friends and peers were starting families. He hadn’t followed his sister’s romantic life particularly closely, but from what he understood she hadn’t had much luck. He’d heard that Deidre had tried to arrange dates for Effie as well, but with much less success. Effie couldn’t have children and word of her condition had gotten out. Respected Peer families were such bloody gossips, he thought with a frown, more worried about looking respectable than acting in a manner which would earn them genuine respect.
“My life revolves around my work,” Effie said, “because there’s nothing else for it to revolve around. Recent events have made me face up to the fact that I may never get to actually go do my work in the field, and that society doesn’t place much value on it in any case.” She sighed. “I fear I’m wasting my life, Eddy.”
Eddy chuckled humorlessly to himself and finished his drink. “I have the opposite problem, it seems. I’m quite content to go on wasting my life, for the nonce at least, but the family has other ideas. Aunt Deidre has taken it upon herself to set me up on yet another blind date.”
“Oh, dear,” Effie said. “I know you dislike it when she does that. The last one went rather poorly, did it?”
“I’d say it went swimmingly if I’d been auditioning for the role of Piper Sutherland’s personal photographer.”
Effie’s eyes widened. “She set you up with Piper Sutherland? Goodness, I wish Deidre would have talked to me first.”
“I already have one relative trying to play matchmaker,” Eddy insisted, “I don’t need two of you.”
“I simply mean that I would have warned her off of Piper. We went to finishing school together, and even back then she was as vain as Narcissus himself. I’m surprised she’s still single.” Effie rubbed her chin. “Well, not that surprised. She’s as shallow as she is pretty. I expect she won’t settle down until she gets old enough that silly boys stop fawning over her. Then she’ll panic and marry some poor bastard from a family at least as rich as hers.” She finished her wine in one gulp. “Trust me, you avoided disaster there.”
Eddy couldn’t help himself and laughed out loud.
“What?” Effie asked, smiling. “Perhaps I’m being catty, but that doesn’t mean I’m wrong. Her smile faded after a moment. “At least someone will marry her.”
Eddy felt his heart sink. “Effie, come now,” he said softly. “You’re being too hard on yourself.”
“Self-pity is unbecoming of a Lancaster,” Effie said, repeating a line that Aunt Deidre had used frequently when they were growing up. “I just…I just don’t know what to do with myself at the moment.”
“You’re brilliant,” Eddy insisted, “and you’re the hardest-working person I know. Even if your plans in life don’t always work out, at least you have them. I don’t even think about the future, much less make plans for it. I suppose I should be grateful to Deidre. She’s probably the only one left in the family who hasn’t given up on me.”
“I haven’t given up on you!” Effie said. “Stop being silly. You just need to figure out what you want to do.”
Eddy gave a half-hearted smile. “The whole idea of having you over for lunch was that I was going to cheer you up, not go on about my own problems.”
“We’re both being pessimistic today, aren’t we?” She rested her chin on her hand. “I forgot to ask, which girl are you going out with this time?”
“Stephanie Stanley-Stark.”
“Oh, of the Clarington Stanley-Starks?”
“Apparently,” Eddy said.
“Hmm, I don’t know her. Maybe she’s nice?”
“Maybe.”
Mason spoke up, then, having seemingly materialized near the table. “Pardon me for intruding, but might I make a suggestion?”
“Gah!” Eddy said with a start. “Good hell, man, you’re as silent as a cat.”
“Or a ninja,” Effie said.
“Exactly,” Eddy agreed. He thought about it for a second and realized he’d never heard that word before. “Wait, what’s a ninja?”
“The ninja were covert agents in Feudal Japan, on Ancient Earth,” Mason explained, “known for specializing in the arts of espionage, infiltration, deception, and assassination. The term comes from ninjitsu, a martial art that they purportedly practiced,” he said, turning to Effie, “but one which I assuredly do not practice.”
“You never cease to impress me with your knowledge,” Effie said to the valet.
Mason looked very pleased indeed with that compliment. “Thank you, miss. As it happens, the military history of ancient, pre-space Earth is a fascinating topic to me, and one on which I’ve done a great deal of reading.”
“That’s very good,” Eddy said, “but what was your suggestion?”
“Ah, yes,” Mason said. “Again, pardon me, I was not intending to eavesdrop, but I did overhear some of your conversation. You should consider paying a visit to your Uncle Jack.”
“Jack?” Eddy thought about it for a moment. “It has been a fair tick since we’ve called on him, hasn’t it?”
“Months, in fact,” Mason said. “As it happens, I received a message from Mr. Brighton.”
Brighton was Jack’s longtime butler and consigliere. “Oh, no!” Effie said. “Is Jack alright?”
“Monsieur Arsenault-Lancaster is in fine health for a gentleman of his age,” Mason said, “but it would seem that he has himself fallen into something of a slump, recently. Mr. Brighton believes that a visit from the both of you would greatly cheer him up. My suggestion is that you take the opportunity to seek his counsel regarding your own troubles. He is, after all, a very seasoned gentleman, and one who has not always, shall we say, adhered to the expectations of the Lancaster family.”
“Mason, I think that’s a brilliant idea,” Eddy said. Uncle Jack was a widower and had helped Aunt Deidre raise the twins after their parents’ deaths. “What do you say, Effie? Perhaps we could both stand to get out of the city for a bit.”
“I think it’s a lovely idea, Mason,” Effie said.
“Then it’s settled,” Eddy said. “Mason, if you’d be so kind, let him know that we’d like to come for a visit as soon as possible.”
Mason smiled and nodded. “Very good, sir. I’ll make the arrangements.”
Eddy thought about it for a moment. “Say, while you’re at it?”
Mason paused. “Yes?”
“Contact Miss Stanley-Stark’s lady’s maid and make the arrangements for our outing, as we discussed.”
“Really, Eddy?” Effie asked. “You’re having your man call her maid? Don’t be a tosser, just call her yourself.”
“No, no,” Eddy said, playfully waggling a finger. “That wouldn’t do at all. If dear Deidre is going to take it upon herself to arrange a romantic rendezvous for me, and if I am expected to dutifully attend for the sake of protecting the family’s good name, then the whole thing shall be conducted as properly as a Sunday suit. I wouldn’t want to scandalize Miss Stanley-Stark by doing anything less. Don’t you agree, Mason?”
“Of course, sir,” the valet said. He turned to Effie. “Miss, while you’ve no doubt ascertained that Master Lancaster is doing this under protest, I expect Miss Stanley-Stark’s family will be rather impressed by the gesture. I have it on good authority that Honoria Stanley-Stark is quite the romantic and is enamored with the tradition of gallantry from the colony’s founding.”
“Mason, you know as well as I do that many of those alleged traditions were invented after the fact. We have detailed records of the colonial founding and there was very little in the way of such formalities for the first century. The arranged dating was concocted as a socially acceptable excuse for Peer families to avoid intermarrying with off-world refugees!”
“That may be the case,” Mason said. “Nonetheless, many hold those traditions in high regard, even if the origins of said traditions are less noble than we like to imagine.”
Effie continued to protest. “Be that as it may, I very much doubt Stephanie Stanley-Stark will find it as endearing as her family does. I wouldn’t be surprised if she doesn’t want to see you again after that.”
Eddy grinned, innocently.
Effie chuckled and shook her head. “Edwin Lancaster, you cheeky devil.”