Garia struggles to make Morlan understand her world but it seems the gulf may be too great. She discusses her predicament with the King and later discovers some interesting side effects of her new body...

Somewhere Else Entirely

by Penny Lane

6 - A World of Machines

Disclaimer: The original characters and plot of this story are the property of the author. No infringement of pre-existing copyright is intended. This story is copyright (c) 2011-2016 Penny Lane. All rights reserved.

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Morlan scowled when Keren followed Garia through his study door but made no other comment. She stood in front of the desk and took a deep breath.

"Master Morlan, I apologize if anything that I said this morning caused you offense. I am unfamiliar with your language, I may have accidentally said something in such a way that it had a different meaning to what I intended."

"Very well, Mistress," Morlan replied. The polite apology surprised him, and he began to revise his opinion of the young woman standing in front of him. He stood and gave her a short bow. "We will say no more about the matter. If you would seat yourself." His eyes went questioning to the Prince, standing behind Garia.

"Since Mistress Garia is not entirely familiar with our language," Keren said, "I have come to provide any assistance she may require. I trust that this meets with your approval, Master Morlan?"

Since Morlan could hardly refuse the presence of the Prince, he graciously assented and Keren brought another chair to put beside Garia. As before, Jenet remained unnoticed in the background, but even she felt more comfortable with the Prince in the room. Once Keren had seated himself Garia began to speak.

"Over lunch I have given consideration to my position in this time and place," she said, raising Morlan's eyebrows with her choice of phrase. "I believe that I can resolve some of the difficulties which you perceive, Master Morlan, but that may make the answers you seek harder for you to understand, not easier."

Morlan waved a hand to indicate that she should proceed, but there was skepticism plain to see on his face.

"Firstly," Garia said, "there is the question of my age. I have realized that it is possible that we may both have been correct. Can I ask you, how many days there are in a year?"

"Why, three hundred ninety one of course," Morlan said. "Any child knows that."

Garia shook her head. "Not on my world, there aren't." She stood and gestured at the blackboard. "If I may?"

Morlan nodded. This nonsense again! But he was interested to see what she would do.

Garia strode to the board and found a cloth to wipe out her name before using the chalk to calculate the age she would be here. This was tricky, as she didn't know exactly when she had departed from Earth, but she decided to use her seventeenth birthday which was recent enough for the present purpose. She rapidly multiplied and divided, Morlan watching her with astonishment.

"That looks like... fifteen years and eight-tenths of a year," she said finally. She made another calculation. "...and that eight-tenths of a year is about three hundred forty-four days."

Morlan and Keren had got up and now stood either side of her.

"Fascinating," Morlan said. "I don't think I could have made the calculation that quickly. These are what your numbers look like?"

"Yes, Master Morlan."

"And how long is your year, in this calculation?"

"Three hundred sixty-five days plus a little under a quarter."

"I see." Morlan turned to Garia. "It seems I also owe you an apology, then, assuming this information is real, of course." He gestured. "Shall we sit down again?"

"That was my next point," Garia said after they had regained their seats. "Whether my information is real or not. Master Morlan, you have to consider this from my point of view, if you can attempt to do that. There are a number of possibilities as I see it. Firstly, I might be mad, as you have been suggesting, and that any previous existence I might be remembering never really happened, that I might have always been part of this world."

Morlan nodded, interested to see where she was going with this, if she would trip herself up.

"Secondly, I might really be mad, as you have been suggesting, but that this world might be all in my imagination, and I might still be in the other world, in something like a dream state." Morlan's eyes narrowed as he considered this possibility. Garia took a breath. "Thirdly, that all of what I have experienced before and since is real, and that I have somehow been genuinely transported from one world to another. I'll leave that for a moment.

"Fourthly, it is possible that I might have died." Morlan looked taken aback at that. "In a number of the religions on the other world, it is held that after a person dies a part of their... spirit, I guess you could call it, we call that the soul, exists after the body stops. In some of those religions the souls goes to a happy place," she wasn't going to get into heaven and hell here, "and some others believe that the soul gets reborn into a new body. It's that last idea that might have happened here, and would explain why I'm now a girl where I was once a boy, although I would have expected in that case to have started out again as a baby."

Morlan had to revise his opinion of Garia yet again. Here she was, discussing philosophical questions the Society of Questors had been arguing about for decades! Did this make her story true, or did it just make her more dangerous?

"Now," Garia continued, "I have to consider my position here. Whichever of the possibilities above is true, and I freely admit there might be yet other explanations I have not considered, I believe that I have to act as though both the other world is real and that this world is real. Would you agree with that, Master Morlan?"

Morlan cleared his throat. "Mistress, your argument is concise and well thought out, and, if I may say so, not one I would have expected from someone of your youth," his mouth twitched into something that one day might have been a smile, "whatever calendar system one uses. Aye, I understand your position, although it still leaves far too many unanswered questions."

"Thank you, Master Morlan. There is another factor which I have to explain to you, and it is this that might cause you the most difficulty." Morlan frowned. "Most of what I have seen around me is slightly familiar -" there, she's admitted it! "- but only in the sense that I've read about it in history books. Bows, swords, wooden houses, dirt roads, animal-drawn vehicles." History books? What is she saying? "These are things that were familiar in my own world, but around three to four hundred years ago. You might consider me as coming from three to four hundred years in the future."

"What? You come from our future? How can that be? The future hasn't happened yet, can't happen!"

"Well, no," Garia qualified. "Not the future of this world, exactly. It's just that my world has had around three to four hundred years more of development than yours has. And before you say anything else, I should tell you that the developments in my world have accelerated during the last couple hundred years. It's not surprising that you find the things I've been telling you difficult to accept. I apologize that I didn't understand the situation much earlier, much awkwardness could have been avoided."

Development. Morlan tasted the word, not sure whether he approved of it or not. He realized that Garia's things were still spread out in front of him. If these were a result of three hundred years of development, what else might she know that she could tell him? Suddenly, assuming she spoke anything like the truth, the young woman began to look like an extremely valuable source of knowledge.

"Mistress Garia," Morlan began with what he hoped was a smile, "if what you are saying is the truth, then there is much that we might learn from your world, would you not agree?"

Garia had got there before him. "Yes and no, Master Morlan. You must understand that my world had to do it all the hard way, and that many mistakes were made, many lives lost and many others broken before the time I live in. Parts of the history of my world are extremely grim. On my world there are stories, fanciful tales of people who travel through time, and in these stories there are rules about passing knowledge down to earlier years. There is much I can freely tell you, there is much I could tell you with caution, and there may be much that I decide I cannot tell you.

"In addition, you also have to remember that I am still young, as considered by both our worlds. So I don't know very much about anything, and what I do remember is whatever is left inside my head. I am still at school, although I will soon be leaving." Assuming I ever get back, of course. And assuming I become Gary again, of course.

"What? You went to school? Yes, I suppose you must have, if you can read and write and make calculations like that." He pointed to the blackboard. "Are you then the... child of a noble, to attend school?"

"Um, Master Morlan," Garia said cautiously, "on my world, in my country, there are no nobles at all." Although there are some who would like to consider themselves nobility. "Every child in the country must go to school between the years of five and eighteen."

"All of them?" Morlan asked skeptically. "This seems to me to be a great waste of everyone's time."

Garia shrugged. "For a very small number, it is. But for the rest of us, that much schooling is necessary for us to learn enough to fit into our world. Our lives are very complicated by your own standards."

Morlan regarded her statements with incredulity. Lives in Palarand were sufficiently complicated yet a mere child could understand enough to be productive by the time they reached double-digit years. How was it possible that any person, let alone a woman, could require six more years than that of education? Granted, for someone like himself it could be said that learning never ended, but of course he and his fellow Questors were somewhat different than the rest of Palarand's subjects.

"You say that your father is not a noble. In that case, what does he do?"

"He's a bookseller, Master Morlan," Garia replied. "That is, he owns a bookshop."

"He owns a shop? That sells books, you say?" Garia nodded. Morlan thought that if her father sold books, then that might explain why she could read and write. Still, books took a long time to copy. How could one make a living at such a trade?

"Your father, he sells enough books to make a living, I assume?"

"Yes, he does, although my mother also works. The bookshop sells between thirty and eighty books a week depending on what's popular at the moment."

"Thirty to eighty books a week?" Morlan raised an eyebrow. "How many scribes does he employ, to copy all those books?"

"Oh, he doesn't employ any scribes," Garia said. "They aren't used in our world any more. All the books are produced elsewhere by, um, machines, he just sells them."

Morlan grunted at the blatant evasion and then latched on to another thing Garia had said. "You said that your world has no nobles."

"Not entirely correct, Master Morlan," Garia answered. "My own country doesn't have any formal nobility. Other countries do have people who are called nobles, but I would guess that they don't have any powers like the nobility here probably do."

"But, your king, how does he rule without nobles?"

"We have no king, Master Morlan. We elect a President who is nominally head of state. He is supported by a Senate -" this word came out in English "- and a House of Representatives, all of whom are chosen by the people at regular intervals."

"The people elect your rulers? All the people? All the rulers?"

Garia gave a wry smile. "Yes, Master Morlan. It sort of works most of the time. Anyone over the age of eighteen who is a citizen of the US can vote, but politics is something I tried to avoid most of my life so far."

Morlan shook his head. "Madness, madness."

"Oh," she grinned, "and by anyone I mean that both men and women can vote and be elected to all government posts. We make no distinction between men and women for most things."

Morlan's eyes bulged. "You mean that you could have a woman ruler? That seems insane."

Garia's face grew serious. "Master Morlan, I trust you intend no offense to anyone in this room."

The room suddenly got very quiet. "Mistress Garia, I intended no disrespect, and I desire that you would take none." Morlan licked his lips and gave a sidelong glance at Keren, whose own face remained impassive. "Here in Palarand," he explained, "and in most nearby countries it would not be considered proper for a woman to rule on her own. There are a small number of states that I know of which elect rulers, but I do not recall that any of them allow women - or even ordinary men - to be permitted to vote. I mean, really, women -"

"Master Morlan," Keren interrupted. "I think you would do better to find another topic of interest, before we start another argument."

Morlan looked at the expression on Keren's face and at the glint in Garia's eyes. "Aye, Highness," he said quietly. Casting about for something else to talk about his eyes found Garia's clothing.

"Tell me then about these, Mistress. Master Tanon says that they are of amazing craft and quality, but that you told him and Mistress Merina that these are but ordinary clothes in your country. This, for example." Morlan held up the t-shirt.

"As I explained to Merina," Garia replied, "these garments are all produced by a machine. It takes a very short time to make one. Oh, it requires a man or woman to set the thing going, and to assemble the different parts, but machines do most of the work."

"And the trousers?"

"I don't know the exact details. There are looms which produce thousands of... strides of cloth every day. I think the pieces are cut out by hand, and it needs a person to sew them together, but the sewing is done by a machine, even so. It must only take -" she closed her eyes, calculating. Damn this man! I need to know how their time system works. "- perhaps a twentieth of a bell to make one. I'm guessing that as I don't really know how your timekeeping works here."

"And this curious device here?"

"That's called a zipper, or sometimes just a zip. We use them for clothing, but they can be used for other things as well. Bags, tents, for example."

"How are they made? You must have many metalsmiths working to make these tiny parts?"

"Master Morlan," Garia said, conscious of the gulf that separated them, "these are made by a series of machines in different sizes, different lengths, different colors. Automatically. By the millions."

"This device here, which you say tells you the time, that is also a machine?"

"I suppose it is, yes, although I had never thought of it that way." Garia shrugged. "It's just a watch. Everyone has at least one."

Keren's eyes were wide as he considered the implications of what this young woman was saying, although neither noticed, they were too intent on one another. Morlan picked up the wallet and shook out some coins.

"These are money where you come from?"

"Yes, Master Morlan."

"What about these?" He pulled out one of the bills.

"They are money too. They are for amounts of money where carrying coins would be too heavy or bulky."

"What are they made of? Does the scribe have to draw all that detail on each one?"

"They are made of a substance called paper." That word came out in English, which told Garia that no-one, at least within traveling distance of Palarand, had yet learned how to make it. "It is usually made of plant or wood fibers, although these particular notes contain a lot of cloth fibers to make them longer lasting."

"Wood fibers? I don't understand."

"Um." Garia thought. "You have mills here, which grind up grain to make flour, which gets baked into bread and other things?" Morlan nodded. "Imagine a big mill which can crush wood down to almost the level of flour."

"But, Mistress!" Morlan objected, "That would be an enormous thing!" Garia nodded in turn. "How could anyone make a mill that big? How big would the water-wheel need to be? And wood is very hard, I can't believe you could feed a log into a pair of mill wheels and grind it up."

"The wheels aren't wheels, more like the insides of a mincing machine." Morlan looked blank and Garia realized that he had probably never seen the inside of a kitchen in his life. "And they are cast of steel, not stone. However, you don't need to grind up trees, at least not to start with. Just sawdust will do. You mix it with water and pound it, and then let it dry out in thin sheets. Probably just as smooth as the parchment you have on your table and much cheaper and easier to make."

Morlan looked at Garia. Was she making fun of him? There was a single word that kept cropping up in here explanations and he didn't like it, as it meant she avoided telling him what he wanted to know. Machine. He pressed on. "And the writing on these sheets?"

"Is all done with big machines," she replied. "As I said before, we have no scribes."

At that point Garia dried up as she suddenly realized she was on the point of handing over information she possibly should not. What was it in Star Trek, the Prime Directive? Paper was probably okay, the society would almost certainly benefit from that, but printing was a different matter. Who could she discuss these matters with, if anyone?

Morlan had come to conclusions of his own, and they weren't comfortable ones.

"Machines, machines, all I hear is talk of machines! Is your whole country full of machines?"

Garia did a double-take and then thought. "Why, yes, I suppose it is," she said slowly. Planes, cars, ships, radios, elevators, cookers, washing machines, lawn mowers, televisions, cell phones, computers, and that was just what the man in the street used. Behind the scenes she knew it was even more so. Perhaps we live in the Machine Age, she thought.

"This whole afternoon has been wasted listening to your nonsense," Morlan fumed. "Machines, mills crushing trees, elected rulers, money made of flimsy sheets, even women voting! All fantasy! I still think you're a spy, come from some land beyond the ocean. Why do you still deny it?"

"Morlan," Garia said, her temper rising, "every word I have said here today has been the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I told you that this morning."

"And you expected me to believe you?" he sneered. "You're just a girl, whose word doesn't count for anything. This afternoon has been lies, lies and more lies, just as I expected."

"Are you casting doubts on my word, Master Morlan?"

"What word? Only a man can give his word, a woman can't, not in Palarand, not anywhere I know."

"If I could proficiently use the weapons of this place," Garia said coldly, "I would challenge you. Then you would find out if a woman can keep her word."

Morlan eyes bulged. "You little tramp, I don't need weapons to take care of you."

Garia opened her mouth to make a sharp reply and then thought better of it. Instead she turned to Keren.

"Highness, might I ask you to accompany me back to my chamber? Master Morlan listens but he does not hear. I fear that we will make no progress today."

Keren jumped up. "Why, certainly, Mistress Garia. I will accompany you back, and then once I have done that," he turned to face Morlan, "I will tell my father all that has happened here."

Morlan twisted his face into a snarl, but he kept silent. He stood and bowed to his Prince. Keren turned and held out a hand to help Garia stand, and then followed her to the door.

They walked through the corridors, Jenet following dutifully behind. When they got to an intersection Garia stopped. Keren looked at her enquiringly.

"Highness, every word I said in that room is the truth," she said earnestly. "Can I ask if you believe me?"

Keren studied her carefully. The stresses of the last few minutes showed clearly on her face but he saw no attempt at guile.

"Mistress, I don't know that I am qualified to answer that," he answered. "I know of no way that the truth can be determined, if any of what you told us is true. By the same token, there is no way in which Morlan can say that you aren't telling the truth." He came to a decision. "Come, let us return to your chamber, perhaps you and I can then have a talk before I go and disturb the King."

Keren grinned and Garia smiled, as they both knew the King would still be deep in his accounts and would not welcome another interruption.

Back in the Lilac Chamber they took seats either side of the fireplace.

"Sit down, Jenet, you've been standing all day."

"But I mustn't, Mistress."

"I insist. There's no reason you shouldn't be comfortable if you're not actually doing something."

"As you wish, Mistress." Jenet perched on a chair near the window, as far away from the pair as she could get. Keren regarded Garia with approval.

"This morning," Garia began, "Master Morlan told me not to judge others by their own experiences."

"I take your point, Mistress," Keren said immediately. "He was doing the same to you, wasn't he? Hardly surprising in the circumstances, but even so."

"He must have a certain level of imagination to be able to do his job, surely?"

"I would have reasoned so, Mistress. After all, people in other countries can't be expected to think about us the same way we do. Are you suggesting that he is not the right person to be performing that job?"

"I wouldn't dare to presume, Highness. It would only give Morlan more ammunition, make him more suspicious."

"Ammunition?"

"More..." Garia stopped, disconcerted. No guns! "Arrows to fire at me."

"Ah. Aye, I agree. Still, it seems that Morlan is resistant to new ideas, particularly new ideas of certain sorts, I have seen that for myself." He smiled at Garia. "So, to answer your earlier question, Mistress, I do believe you, at least with reservations. You are certainly not the simple young girl that Morlan seems to think he is dealing with." He thought. "I don't think we can substitute Morlan in this process, it would just cast more suspicion on yourself that you are manipulating the situation to your own advantage. I just wish there was some way you can convince him of whom and what you really are."

"Believe me, Your Highness, I have been trying to think of a way, but it's difficult. It's bad enough being on a completely strange world, I'm also having to come to terms with a whole new body. I'm having to learn to deal with all this flummery for a start." She flounced up the skirt of her dress with her hands. "Women's clothing back home is different to all this, although women do wear dresses at times, it is true, but of course being a boy I had nothing to do with any of it."

"You'll have to take my word for it, then," Keren said, "the gown suits you perfectly. In fact, I think it matches your coloring better than when my sister wore it." His face grew serious. "It hadn't occurred to me what such a change might mean to someone. You must be finding it quite strange."

"Trust me, strange doesn't begin to cover it. These, for example." Garia pushed a finger into one of her breasts. "These are quite the oddest things ever to grow on a body. They are nothing at all like I expected them to be. And then there's the fact that there's nothing down there," she put a hand on her lower abdomen. "I really don't know if I've gained or lost by this transaction."

Keren regarded her thoughtfully. The body might be that of a girl, even a good-looking girl, but she didn't behave at all like any girls that he knew. Of course, most of the girls he knew fell into two camps, servants, or daughters of rulers from other countries whose parents wanted to marry them off to the next King of Palarand. No, this young person was of a kind he had not come across before and she intrigued him.

Jenet jumped up.

"The tenth bell, Mistress. Highness, with your permission, we need to make Mistress Garia ready for the evening meal. If you would excuse us?"

Keren took the hint. "Yes, Jenet, of course." He stood. "I'll go and find my father, then, and see you at table."

He bowed towards Garia. She stood and curtseyed, and Keren turned and left the room.

"I don't hear these bells of yours, Jenet. Is it a particular note you listen for?"

"I don't think so, Mistress. It's just that the bells aren't very loud in this part of the palace, this chamber faces the wrong way. I've been hearing them almost all my life so I know what to listen for. Next time I get a chance, I'll warn you in time so that you can hear them yourself."

Jenet opened the closet door. "Mistress, we will need to change your gown for the evening meal. Shall I get some out for you to choose from?"

"Jenet, you know I won't have the faintest idea," Garia protested. She considered, and realized that she would have to devote some of her time and energy to learning how to be a woman in this society. She sighed. "Yes, Jenet, by all means. I'm going to have to learn how to do all this, aren't I?"

Jenet gave a small grin and moved towards the closet.

While the day dresses were broadly similar to the one she had worn today the more formal dresses she had been supplied with reminded Garia faintly of Elizabethan or Stuart styles, what she could remember of those. After all, how many red-blooded American males are interested in historical women's costumes? True, there were no elaborate ruffs or slashed sleeves but the gowns were long, full and made of quite heavy fabric. Although buttons were occasionally to be seen, usually on the sleeves, all the dresses were laced up the center of the back.

Since there was a little time before going down to the dining room, Jenet suggested that it would be a good idea to try some of them on so that they could see what fitted and what didn't. Two were immediately discarded as being too tight or too short and Jenet intended returning them to the Mistress of the Wardrobe. The others were a mixed bag. Garia hoped that she wouldn't be stuck inside one of the heavier dresses on a particularly hot evening.

One surprise was that, with the exception of the breast-supporting bodice, no underwear was worn by the women of the court at this time of year. Jenet did mention that "when Kalikan called" certain arrangements were made to protect their clothing. This oblique reference completely escaped Garia.

I have to admit, the present arrangement is a great deal more comfortable than having bunched-up sweaty cloth wedged between my legs all day. No wonder the girls back home all wear short skirts in the summer!

Finally having selected a suitable summer-weight dress of palest green silk Garia was ready just as Jenet announced that the evening meal gong had sounded.

~o~O~o~

Today's main course was fish. At least these appeared to both resemble and taste like their Earthly counterparts. Garia supposed that was due to evolutionary pressures. If you lived in a river, then your shape was constrained by the need to move through the water effectively. Some interesting spices were used in the dish as well, and her appetite seemed better. Despite the arguments of the afternoon, she felt in much better spirits than she had done since arriving at the palace.

"I trust that your health is improving, Mistress Garia? You certainly seem to have a better appetite now."

"Thank you Sire," she replied to Robanar during a pause between courses. "I do feel better, although there is still a slight headache. It isn't troubling me much, though."

"I understand there were more disagreements this afternoon?"

"Regrettably, yes, Your Majesty. It appears that Master Morlan persists in judging me by my appearance, thinking that I must be something like a girl of a similar age from nearby."

"I think we've all come to the conclusion that you're nothing like that, Mistress. The big problem is for us to determine what you are like. Morlan has difficulty with some of the strange things you have been telling him, they are entirely outside his experience. If he cannot understand, what hope is there for the rest of us?"

"That's not entirely true, father," Keren interjected, "I think I'm beginning to build a picture of what Mistress Garia's world might be like. The problem is that it is taking Morlan so long to get anywhere, as he argues over every single thing Mistress Garia says to him."

"He is very good at what he does," Robanar observed, "and I cannot say that I blame him when he tries to solve new problems by looking at old solutions. You think that Mistress Garia is innocent, then? You aren't saying that because you might be attracted to her, by some chance?"

Both Garia and Keren blushed deeply.

"Father, that was uncalled for," Keren protested. "It's certainly not a subject for discussion at the dining table. Perhaps we should retire to the parlor after we've eaten and talk about these matters further."

Robanar smiled at Keren's discomfort but took the hint. His original light conversational remark had apparently sparked off something deeper and the subject was really not suitable for the ears of all those around the table. He turned to Garia.

"Mistress, I'm sorry if I am causing you embarrassment, my words were intended to be light-hearted. Let's change the subject. The weather is hot, are you comfortable? I know that you are not attired as you might be wherever you came from, do you find any problems with the clothes the Mistress of the Wardrobe has supplied?"

"It is about as hot here as I am used to at home, Your Majesty. As for the clothes, I must thank your Majesties for what you have provided. I am finding them very strange to wear, but they are comfortable, especially in this heat. Jenet has proved invaluable in teaching me what to wear, how to present myself and some of the palace customs."

"That's good, my dear," Queen Terys said from beyond Robanar. "I know it's difficult for you at the moment, but I'm sure you'll ask if you need to know anything."

"Oh, I will, Your Majesty, I will."

~o~O~o~

In one of the royal parlors everyone found seats. Robanar looked at Keren.

"Keren? There were things you wanted to discuss?"

"Yes, Father. I think it's unfair to suggest that I might be attracted to Mistress Garia, after all, I only met her yesterday! However, since I have met her, and particularly since I've spent some time in her company in Morlan's quarters, I have realized that she has a certain air about her you just don't get from any of the other young people I've been introduced to."

Garia blushed deeply at the unsolicited praise. Keren continued.

"At the moment there are few others in the palace of my own age, father, and I would have thought it natural that when someone new comes along that I might take the time to find out more about them. However, Mistress Garia's position here is strange and I don't think it serves any good purpose to suggest things in public that cannot be true. Is that not so, Mistress?"

"Your Majesty," Garia said, "I'm sure that you are well aware that the more people who think they know something, the more it is likely to spread, and the bigger chance that whatever is said will be altered the further it gets from the source. I'm sure you wouldn't want rumors to spread throughout the palace or even the city. I certainly don't, as they might prevent me from having a fair hearing."

Robanar nodded. "You argue well, Mistress. I can understand both your concerns. Very well, we'll keep our discussions to the people in this room for the time being. Oh, and Morlan, of course."

Terys said, "I'm afraid it may be too late to keep the subject quiet, dear. I have already heard several rumors about our mystery guest, none of them anything other than nonsense."

"Really?"

"Aye," the Queen replied. "She's a sorceress who flew in on a ptuvil. She's a Kittrin in disguise. She's a traveler who's fallen on hard times and managed to get into the Palace by spinning tall tales. She comes from Kalikan and just popped out of thin air up in the mountains. That's just a selection my maids have told me that are circulating the palace."

Robanar chuckled. "Interesting." He turned to Garia. "I trust, Mistress, that you aren't any of these things?"

"I don't think so, Sire. However, I'm not really sure how I did get here. I'm not even sure where here is."

"But, you're in Palarand," Robanar said. "Surely that's a start? I'm not sure I understand your difficulty."

"Sire, this is not my world," she explained. "The world which I come from, which is called Earth, has been thoroughly explored and every part of it has been described and cataloged in considerable detail. Even if it were not for the fact that my world has only one moon, then the various animals and plants I have seen since I appeared here would have told me that I was somewhere else entirely. We know that some other worlds exist, but the very little we know about conditions on those worlds leads us to believe that no life can exist on them, so this world, the one I understand you call Anmar, must be very far away from Earth.

"Now, I do know that nobody on my world has the ability to send someone from one world to another, so how I was transferred from there to here is a mystery. I appeared to be wearing the same clothing I would have been wearing at home, but why I am a girl and not a boy is another mystery. I also cannot explain why I can speak your language, although I have discovered that I still know my own native tongue. In order to try and solve these mysteries, if it is at all possible, I must learn about my surroundings."

"Mistress, if what you say is true, then I can appreciate your concerns," Robanar said. "I can say that we will do all that is in our power to help you, as I'm sure that you would wish to return home if it is possible. But something else is making you unhappy."

Garia said, "Yes, Sire. Master Morlan has got it into his head that I am a spy, and therefore he discounts everything I say which doesn't support his case. The problem is that I am not a spy, and I am searching for some way in which I can demonstrate that to him. Since I know next to nothing about this world, I am finding that difficult. I'm just floundering around in a fog. Morlan won't tell me anything at all as he considers that he would be giving information to a spy."

"What sort of information is Morlan objecting to, Mistress?"

She replied, "Almost everything, Sire! For example, I know that I am in Palarand, but I don't know what Palarand is. I don't know how to tell the time here. I don't know the names of almost anything I've eaten at your table. I don't know the name of the great river which flows through the valley, in fact I don't even know which way it flows. "

Keren said, "Looked at from Morlan's point of view, he's right, Mistress. If you're a spy, then you already know all of this, and you must just be pretending not to know these things in order to find out more things that may be useful. However," he switched his attention to his father, "I've now seen Morlan questioning Mistress Garia, and he seems very resistant to considering any explanation that doesn't agree with his chosen theory. I don't know why that is. Perhaps he has other information we are not aware of."

"Your own opinion?" Robanar asked Keren.

"I think I believe that Mistress Garia comes from another world," Keren said. "I'm not sure about her other claims, but she shows no knowledge of local customs at all. She can read and write, although in her own language only, and I saw her do arithmetic in front of Morlan. I suppose that it is possible that she comes from another land beyond the explored seas, but why tell the truth about one thing and then lie about others?"

"Mistress Garia," Robanar said, "it seems you have a problem here and I fear it is beyond the likes of us to solve it. I personally do not feel that you are a danger to the kingdom, but that's why I keep expert advisors. For all we know you may be a cunning actress, intent on deceiving all of us."

So the King is neutral at the moment, dependent on his experts. He doesn't consider me to be much of a danger otherwise I'd probably be locked up. On the other hand, I represent an unknown quantity and he's reluctant to trust me until he knows more. And then there's Morlan, who's beginning to come across as increasingly paranoid. Yuck.

"I understand that, Your Majesty. I do not know how to solve this puzzle. Perhaps I shall have to think of an entirely different approach."

~o~O~o~

She lay back in bed, the covers pulled away as it was so warm. There was still a fair amount of light, but it would go rapidly once it started.

How have I gotten myself into this pickle? Why am I here? In fact, why exactly am I here at all? Was there some point to this whole exercise? Have I been brought here to do something specific, or is it just chance, or, perhaps, is it all some ghastly mistake? Why as a girl, wouldn't Gary have done?

She answered that one herself.

Maybe not. If I had shown up on that mountain road as Gary, I might just be still lying there filled with arrows. Even if I had been brought to Palarand I would almost certainly have ended up in the cells, probably considered a lunatic to boot. But this is an improvement?

This body is going to take some getting used to, she thought. I'm not used to being half everyone else's size, for one thing. And I certainly seem to react differently to other people's emotional states. I doubt Gary would even have noticed Morlan getting angry today. I certainly didn't notice my teachers' emotional states back in high school, did I?

Then there's these, she thought, bringing her hands up and placing one on each breast. Holy Cow!

Garia was totally unprepared for the sensations that spread through her body as her hands made contact, her nipples pushing themselves into her palms through the thin fabric of the nightdress.

Oh... my... God. No-one happened to mention that a girl's body was capable of this.

To someone whose man nipples had never seemed more than discolorations on his chest the abilities of her new body were a revelation. Garia spent some time as the light faded exploring the new territory she had discovered, finally relenting as the room darkened.

Ew. I'm wet down there. I hope it's not piss, I did hear that women don't have as good control of their bladders as men do. A blush in the darkness. I'm silly, aren't I? It comes from the Girl Place. Considering what happens down there, a little lubrication is probably a good thing. Her hands went without thinking down to her crotch and fresh sensations exploded through her body.

Some time later, flushed and sweating, Garia felt sleep coming because of her exertions and she relaxed completely. No-one told me that a girl's body was capable of that, either. No wonder some of them want to get laid every chance they get. Wow!