The House of Storms: Book 6 of the Blue Plane series

By T. Austin Campbell

The System is a universe of alternate realities that captures Outsiders and creates System characters to populate its venues. It challenges its victims to adapt, endure, and survive disparate adventures from benign to evil. Three University of Maryland graduates—Courtney, Macy, and Devon—get a firsthand look at it as they travel across Canada sightseeing and looking for summer jobs. before starting careers in the US in the Fall. But the world went crazy!
The three women entered a Victorian living museum town in eastern Canada, were robbed, and took jobs in the local hotel. They began to suspect they had entered a science fiction movie. Three women detectives, veteran captives of The System, asked the new victims to collaborate in investigating a potential bank robber. They informed the women that they had entered an alternative reality called The System. Courtney became romantically involved with the criminal and remained on the case until she and the detectives were trapped by the robbers in Vancouver. Devon was separated from the others in central Canada and saved three children from a murderous logger who chased them and attacked her in a mortuary. Macy ended up in a fishing village on Hudson Bay where she tried to prevent another System captive from breaking the rules and profiting by selling plans for future inventions. The System created a storm of retribution.
Courtney, Macy, and Devon reunited in a broken-down car in Nebraska, entered a carnival to seek help, were plagued and taunted by sinister characters, rescued by a System deus ex machina who whisked them into a Temple (a kind of portal between venues). The three women emerged in gold-rush era central Canada where they joined three System characters, were kidnapped, escaped, rescued from rapids, courted by natives, and almost rescued by townsfolk. The three women awoke in Tokyo as FBI agents partnered with shape-shifters chasing a thief to other planets and through the Dimensions. Then in St. Petersburg they worked as under-cover CIA agents to expose espionage in the consulate.
They went to sleep in The House of Storms, current residence of four veterans of The System and awoke in pre-historic Texas where they encountered four very early captives of the System who had gone native. A rival tribe enslaved the group to build a huge city in a desert canyon. They escaped through the navel of the earth through a creation legend. The four veterans from The House of Storms struggled to escape Maoists in northwest China, joining eight Chinese fugitives and traveling overland and by stolen boat, dodging the pursuing People's Liberation Army.
Courtney, Devon, Macy, and their boyfriends met up with the four House of Storms residents for dim sum in Hong Kong. The final scene is of the four House of Storms veterans in their new residence overlooking a lava pool in pre-historic Hawaii pondering their mantra: Love is the most important reality.
Throughout this book and the entire series, recurrent themes are What is the nature of reality? What is The System? What is its purpose?
Fans of such science fiction as Matrix, Quantum Leap, the Prisoner and alternate realities will enjoy the challenges and quandries presented by The House of Storms and other books in the Blue Plane series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Aug 18, 2023
• ISBN: 9781667866468

T. Austin Campbell

A research geneticist with the U.S. Department of Agriculture, T. Austin Campbell, Ph.D., has traveled extensively in Asia and elsewhere. He published scores of scientific articles in the journals of his discipline. Now a full-time novelist, he continues to explore new places and weaves memories of his travels and those from his childhood into tales of high adventure, romance, and triumphs of the human spirit in a world of everchanging realities.

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BOOKS in the BLUE PLANE SERIES

The Grasshopper Man

The Blue Plane

The Temples

The Dark Plane

The Elysian Fields

CHAPTER 1 Westworld

CHAPTER 2 Tête-à-tête

CHAPTER 3 Strange Sojourn

CHAPTER 4 House of Storms

CHAPTER 5 And Then There Was One

CHAPTER 6 Will Martin

CHAPTER 7 What’s In a Bottle Cap?

CHAPTER 8 Deadly Chase

CHAPTER 9 The Books

CHAPTER 10 Surveillance

CHAPTER 11 Retribution

CHAPTER 12 Narrow Escape

CHAPTER 13 Dark Carnival

CHAPTER 14 Hide and Seek

CHAPTER 15 Moose Jaw

CHAPTER 16 Dreams and Reality

CHAPTER 17 Boredom

CHAPTER 18 Pursuit

CHAPTER 19 Times of Peace, Times of Tragedy

CHAPTER 20 Ginza

CHAPTER 21 The Mirror

CHAPTER 22 Wormhole Epsilon

CHAPTER 23 Brass Monkey

CHAPTER 24 Hibiya Park

CHAPTER 25 Respite from the Storm

CHAPTER 26 Saint Petersburg

CHAPTER 27 Consulate Intrigue

CHAPTER 28 Danger Lurks

CHAPTER 29 Capture and Escape

CHAPTER 30 John-Boy

CHAPTER 31 Night Work

CHAPTER 32 The Wheels Come Off

CHAPTER 33 Spy Motel

CHAPTER 34 Ancient Reunion

CHAPTER 35 The Jádí

CHAPTER 36 Prisoners

CHAPTER 37 Kiva

CHAPTER 38 The Navel

CHAPTER 39 The Star Fort

CHAPTER 40 Oil Exploration

CHAPTER 41 Escape from Gansu

CHAPTER 42 Reunions

CHAPTER 43 Trucks and Bicycles

CHAPTER 44 Misdirection

CHAPTER 45 Boxcar Stateroom

CHAPTER 46 Discovery

CHAPTER 47 Bailout

CHAPTER 48 Body Parts

CHAPTER 49 Fellow Runners

CHAPTER 50 Kai Tac Airport

CHAPTER 51 Fuel Stop

CHAPTER 52 Bombshell

CHAPTER 53 Stowaways

CHAPTER 54 Traitor

CHAPTER 55 Grounded

CHAPTER 56 A Glimmer of Hope

CHAPTER 57 Close Call

CHAPTER 58 Dim Sum

Epilog

Copyright © 2022 by T. Austin Campbell

Campbell, T. Austin

The House of Storms: Book 6 of the Blue Planes series

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ISBN 978-1-66786-645-1 (Print)

ISBN 978-1-66786-646-8 (eBook)

To my high school English teacher Irene Robin who believed

and to my wife Judith Abbott who shared my dream.

June, 1991 Central Canada

For the three recent graduates, Class of ’91,

the adventure began innocently enough as they

entered the small town of Westchester, Canada.

But the world went crazy!

CHAPTER 1

Westworld

Devon Parks, Courtney Fields, and Macy James rode along the Trans-Canadian Highway debating their next move. They had each secured a job starting in September in private biology labs along the US East Coast. Inseparable at the University of Maryland, they were going to be hundreds of miles apart. They had seen how the fastest of friends could drift apart when separated by even fifty miles, especially when they acquired new friends, got married, had children, changed social stratum, or just simply grew up. Just now, they were off on a lark, playing before they had to settle down in the fall.

Devon was open faced, charming, and sweet. She was probably the smartest of the three. Her hazel eyes, curly dark brown hair, and slightly softer look drew people to her like a magnet. She was generally quiet until something aroused her sympathy or anger. She was saved from being pushed around by a combination of spunk and character.

The gregarious and upbeat Courtney was a curvy five foot two, brown hair, brown eyes. She was stubborn and was seldom pushed in a direction she didn’t want to go, which often made her a leader of whatever group she got involved with.

Macy was tall, blonde over blue. Like the other two, she was a pretty good student, but also enjoyed a good time. She could be a bit quirky—like actually liking hiking and camping, botany and geology.

We approacheth a town, Courtney announced. Didn’t we say we would take the plunge into the job pool at the next town, assuming there were jobs that required our limited skills?

I have skills you girls know nothing about, Macy said with exaggerated dignity. Perhaps I should find a job and then ask if they have anything you two could possibly do.

That would really be sweet, Devon purred sweetly.

We weren’t talking about sexual prowess, Macy; we were talking about daytime job skills.

I’m writing all these insults down in my book, Courtney, and some day ….

Surveying the town, Courtney said, The tour book doesn’t mention a place like this around here.

It looks Victorian, Macy observed. Hansom cabs, tea carts, a meat market with geese hanging by their necks, bins of fish on ice, greengrocers, and smoking chimneys on every building.

Everybody’s in costume, Devon said. I wonder if all the employees have to dress up?

There was a sign that said, Leave conveyances here. Courtney parked the car and locked it as the other two surveyed the anachronistic town. Macy pointed to a three-story house just inside the gate on the right. The arch over the walkway identified it as the McGinnis Hotel. There was a small hand-lettered sign on the gate which made them look at each other and smile, Personnel needed, apply at rear entrance.

It was funny, it seemed like no one took any notice of them until they crossed some magic barrier and stepped onto the street. Suddenly people began doing double-takes—the few women on the sidewalk looking scandalized; some of the men, highly bemused and quite interested.

I guess you do have to be in costume, Devon giggled. The McGinnis is hiring. Guess we go to the back door.

The three walked around the block and down an alley to the back of the hotel. They stepped up onto a broad stoop and Courtney knocked. In a minute or two, a woman in a long dress and apron opened the door and took one look at them. She blurted, What in the name of the Lord are you wearing? What in the devil happened to your bleedin’ clothes? Her Canadian accent was unusually thick—Was that part of the act?

Macy said with all the dignity that she could muster, We were robbed. We were dragged into an alley and assaulted. She saw the cooks’ shocked looks and hastily assured them, No, no, not that way. They just stole our money and clothing before we could get away. We were seeking employment and saw the sign advertising a need for hotel personnel. We were coming here to apply.

Well, at least you got away. You must report the assault to the Constabulary immediately. You must get some decent clothing first, of course. We’ll get you fixed up and, afterwards, we can see about positions for the three of you.

They walked through a mud room and into a—What was it?—a larder Macy remembered the term, which had vegetables, chops, several small fish, and some kind of fowl, maybe one of the geese they had seen in the meat market. They could hear other people working in the next area, which Macy assumed was the kitchen.

Behind the door, the woman said, there are some old kitchen work outfits. They should fit all three of you after a fashion. When you’re dressed decently, use the brush and kerchiefs there to do something with your hair and then come into the kitchen. Where in the world did you get those shoes? Well, we don’t have spare shoes so those will have to do. She shook her head and left.

After the door was closed and she could hear the cook’s steps fading away, Devon said, Robbed?

Macy snapped back, That’s the best I could come up with under the circumstances! How the hell else would we have lost our clothes and purses in broad daylight?

Spooky, Courtney said. This damn place feels like Westworld.

You mean like the movie? Devon asked. Yeah. I’ve never heard or read about a place like this in this area, where everybody is in character. What do we do now?

We haven’t heard of everything, Courtney said in a tone that implied that she thought she had probably heard a bit more than they had. Let’s go along with it; it could be fun.

The three women changed clothes and attempted to tie the kerchiefs over their hair the way the older woman had hers, then trooped into the kitchen to line up for inspection. The woman who had answered the door and two younger women stood with their arms crossed, looking at them appraisingly. That’s better. I’m Agnes, head cook, the older woman said. These are Caroline and Fern. We do the cooking. Three other girls that you will meet later do the scullery work.

Courtney introduced the three of them, said they were from Maryland in the United States, and that they were interested in applying for jobs in the hotel.

I know it sounds rather strange, Devon said softly, thinking these people were overplaying their roles—They had surely seen women dressed in jeans and T-shirts before—but, well, we don’t have any appropriate clothes for this hotel.

In an aside, Agnes gave brief instructions to two very young women who had just come in to begin dinner preparations. The positions available are for maids; and we probably have suitable uniforms that will fit you.

That’s a step up from the scullery, Fern said with a little smile. She headed into the scullery and immediately began banging around.

Agnes continued, I would ask if you have letters of recommendation, but I assume they were taken with your clothes. Well, we must get to work. Have a seat in the employees’ lunchroom and I will send someone to see if the mistress of the hotel is available. She led the way, got the three young women settled, and scurried away.

We’ll have to ask where we can get costumes if, in fact, we get jobs here, Courtney said. I wonder if they accept modern Canadian money or do we have to exchange it for—what?—funny money?

Are you sure we want to do this? Macy asked. I know, I know, it could be fun.

Good morning, ladies. I am Mrs. McGinnis. My husband owns this hotel and I manage the staff, said a middle-aged woman bustling into the room. She was well-dressed with her salt-and-pepper hair pulled back in a bun and a serious expression, but friendly enough gray eyes.

Good morning, the three said almost in unison, standing quickly and smoothing their borrowed dresses.

Please come back to my office. She led the way to a nicely furnished room in the back of the building and took a seat behind a small desk of fine cherry wood. The women were seated on a stiff camel-back sofa facing her. Courtney told her about being on an excursion across Canada before they assumed positions on the East Coast and assured her that they could get resumés when they got back to their car.

Car? If you left your trunks on the train car, it’s a good thirty miles away by now! The woman said this with a totally straight face.

Ah, I should have said that we left the luggage at the depot.

Oh, yes. Resumés? Very fancy. Well, the jobs I have available are for maids, two upstairs servicing the rooms and one on the first floor servicing the public rooms, that is, the lobby, dining room, sitting room, and the like. It is certainly preferable to working in the scullery and you three seem to be a cut above that kind of position. Her face became a bit more stern. You girls haven’t been in any kind of trouble that might follow you here, have you?

No, Ma’am, Macy said, putting her nose a bit higher in the air. We are honest, and we come from good families.

I can see that, Mrs. McGinnis said more softly. It’s a question I have to ask all potential employees. Now, have you worked as maids before?

Yes, Courtney said, thinking that they had all cleaned their parents’ homes and, on rare occasion, their own rooms while they were growing up.

Why don’t you get your papers and be back here in a half hour. Hopefully we can finalize things. You can stay at least a month?

Perhaps two weeks, Devon said with a little shrug.

I admire honesty. We are shorthanded and you are on an excursion, so I suppose that will have to do.

Macy inserted, We were accosted on our way here. And no, we weren’t injured; but they did take our money and clothing. Agnes insisted that we borrow these clothes. We really must report the incident to the constables. We will return just as quickly as possible.

The young women left through the back door, which seemed appropriate, and walked a few steps over to where they had parked their car. Where the hell is it? Courtney asked in puzzlement, joining her companions in scanning the area.

Well, shit! Macy said, stomping her foot and garnering scandalized looks from a couple of ladies walking by. Who the hell would steal our car? There have to be much better cars than that around here.

The damn thing could be fifty miles away by now, Courtney swore. We’ll have to go to the police, Mounties, whatever. This is going to screw things up royally. If the police can’t find it quickly, we’ll have to call our parents and ask for help.

Macy muttered, And they’ll say they never should have let us out on our own, irresponsible kids. Shit.

Anyone know where we’re going? Devon asked. She broke away from the group and walked over to a coachman watering his horse. Could you please tell me where the police, constables, Mounties are?

Constable station is up the street, Miss, and you might see one patrolling. Got some trouble?

Yes, sir, Devon answered, and the women walked on up the street.

We’re supposed to be back at the hotel in fifteen minutes, Devon said. I guess if we’re late, Mrs. McGinnis will understand.

They walked through what looked like a marketing district and then spotted an open door topped by a sign saying, Constable Station 6. Courtney led them in and approached a uniformed man sitting behind the counter. Excuse me, sir, our car was stolen.

Car? What sort of car, Ma’am? He pulled a piece of paper to him and dipped a pen into an inkwell preparatory to taking a report.

Macy did a little double take at the pen and inkwell, and thought, They really are thorough at set dressing! There wasn’t a computer, fax, or even telephone in sight.

Courtney replied, You know, automobile—What do you call them?—motorcar. It was parked right down the street in broad daylight and someone stole it.

Automobile? Motorcar? I’m sorry Ma’am, I … I don’t understand. He cocked his head and began to look slightly askance at the three women, wondering what to make of them and their strange accents. And then he noticed their shoes. Very peculiar and thoroughly ugly ones, he thought.

Listen, Courtney said, trying not to stomp her foot, this is serious. Our damn car is missing. All our stuff was in it. Thank God we didn’t leave any money in there; but we are stranded. I mean, what in the hell are we supposed to do?

Please calm down, Miss. And please watch your language! Alright, can you describe this car?

It was dark green, a Toyota Camry, Maryland license plate TGF4651. We are from Maryland, USA. Could you put out a bulletin immediately please. Whoever stole it is probably getting farther and farther away all the time.

I’m sorry, Ma’am; I have no idea what a toy… whatever you said, is, but apparently there is such a thing. You would have saved time if you had just said your coach was stolen. Where is your driver? I certainly need to take a statement from him.

"It’s my car!" Courtney said, finally giving in and stomping her foot. "I am the driver, as are my two friends. And what kind of statement do you want? It’s not a coach, it is an automobile. We don’t have time to play these stupid Victorian games! I said this is serious!"

Courtney, chill! Devon said, wondering what the hell was wrong with this man. She thought she would give it a try. Please get out of character for a moment. Act like a real policeman and do something about finding our car.

The constable bridled at what he took to be an insult, but kept his professional demeanor. Please don’t get upset, Ma’am. You said it was a green conveyance with some type of identification number on it. What type of hitch does it have? One-horse, two-horse?

It doesn’t have horses, it has an engine! It’s an auto … God damn it! Courtney dropped onto a bench and began to cry in frustration.

Look, ladies, I’ll put some men on it right away. A carriage like that shouldn’t be too difficult to spot. I’ve written this all up as a statement. He turned it around so they could read it and then said, Could you please each sign it.

Do you have any idea when we might …? Macy asked, hoping he was just obstinately staying in character and would actually be looking for a green Camry, not a green coach.

I can’t say, Miss; but, as I said, a coach like that should stand out. After they left, he just shook his head and wondered what the world was coming to.

They walked down the street, Courtney despondently observing that they were fifteen minutes late. They quickened their pace and knocked on the front door to save time. The butler answered, recognized them, and scowled a bit, whether at their timing or entrance they couldn’t tell and didn’t care. He simply said, Madam is waiting for you in the lobby. You are a bit late.

We know, Devon muttered. We were delayed.

As they approached Mrs. McGinnis, she said, I did mention something about promptness, didn’t I?

They lined up in front of her and Devon responded, Our coach was stolen, Ma’am. Everything is gone. We had to go to the constable to report it.

I didn’t know you owned a coach! I thought you came on the train.

That’s true, Ma’am. But when we got here, we hired a coach so we would have transportation to explore the countryside. We thought that, if we mentioned that, you might think we were too wealthy to need jobs. We used our parents’ money and perhaps that was a mistake. Regardless, all our things are gone now, and we really do need the jobs. If the police can’t find the coach and the things in it, we may have to stay longer. That is, if you will still hire us.

This gets more bizarre by the minute, and it would probably be prudent for me to check with the constabulary. No, we’ve wasted enough time. Let’s say I will hire you against my better judgment, primarily because you seem like nice young girls from good families, as you said.

Thank you, Ma’am, the three said in unison, and Devon even conjured up a slight curtsy.

Very well, have one of the upstairs maids show you to your room. Kitchen staff and housekeeping quarters are in the fourth floor, the attic. They can get you uniforms, which you will keep spotless—you will launder and iron your uniforms yourselves. You should return those kitchen uniforms, clean and pressed of course, to Mrs. Fredericks—I believe you’ve already met Agnes—as quickly as possible. You may decide among yourselves which of you will work upstairs and those two will report to Miss Hudson, head upstairs maid, and the remaining young lady will report to Miss Carmichael, head downstairs maid. Maids eat in the staff dining room; your supervisors will tell you the schedule. She stood and shook hands with each of them. I believe I will be happy that I hired you once we get beyond the bizarre happenings associated with your arrival. If there are any questions that your supervisors cannot answer, please come to see me.

The young women sighed and walked upstairs and looked around until they met Miss Hudson, a plump woman of about fifty with a pleasant manner and voice. She showed them to their room which had three single beds and a wash basin with a bar of soap and pitcher of tepid water. They were told that all the women employees shared a toilet and sink at the end of the hall.

Courtney had volunteered to work downstairs and was sent down to hunt up Miss Carmichael. Miss Hudson gave Macy and Devon an overview of their duties, which mainly consisted of making beds, dusting, sweeping daily, and mopping the floor after departures or weekly—or in case of accidents. They were to change the towels daily and the sheets weekly or between occupants, and were responsible for delivering the laundry to the washerwomen. They were to make sure that there was sufficient water in the appropriate pitchers for drinking and washing. If a guest requested to be served in their room, it was the women’s job to deliver the food and clear the dishes, bringing more coffee and dessert if necessary. Finally, Miss Hudson told the women emphatically that a flirtation or other activity with the male guests was absolutely forbidden, even if the guest requested some sort of … visitation.

I assume that you’re nice girls and won’t respond positively to any request of the kind I just alluded to. I’m not sure how much experience you have, and I hate to belabor this last point, but some men can be quite insistent. If a man speaks to you or touches you inappropriately, leave the room and tell the butler immediately; the guest will be expelled. I want a good working environment for my girls. Some guests are in their rooms already and others will be returning to the rooms to freshen up before dinner, which by the way is served at half six. Staff breakfasts at six and dines at eight so you are available to aid the kitchen if needed. Check with Mrs. Fredericks about lunches. You can each work with one of the other maids today and tomorrow to learn where things are and how we want the work to be done.

Miss Carmichael was in her fifties, still dark-haired and quite slim, and tended to be dour, although she seemed friendly enough to the staff. Courtney imagined that one could burn out working very long with the traveling public in a hotel, and yet there were probably no alternative careers for these women. Such situations could indubitably sour one’s personality.

Now, Courtney, Miss Carmichael said as she led her to the lobby, "all the downstairs staff will share in the downstairs cleaning. The lobby is what people see when they first come into the hotel and there are people in and out all the time, including children, so it’s difficult to keep it clean and neat. There are tricks of the trade downstairs staff can show you. The dining room floor seems to remain constantly untidy. We don’t have to clean it all the time, but you will have to learn how messy is too messy."

The three women had been working four days and had accepted the fact that it was going to be a while before their Camry was found. They had attempted to call Courtney’s parents and found that there was no telephone system. They brought the matter up to their supervisor. She had no clue what they were talking about, but said that there was a telegraph at the train station.

They asked how far the next town was and were told it was about a hundred miles. They couldn’t remember exactly what it had looked like as they drove into Westchester, but knew they had passed several small towns. When they had some time off, they had walked four or five miles out of town, looking for the place modern civilization began again. However, everyone they saw had stayed in character as far as they had walked until they reached the open plains. No four-lane highway, no telephone poles, nothing modern. An eerie feeling took up permanent residence in the backs of their minds. There was nothing to do but keep working and hope their car was found.

The final kicker was the fact that, when they decided to check their money and reached in their jeans pockets, they found it had gone missing too. Had their pockets been picked? They had had to ask for an advance of wages from Mrs. McGinnis. She had reluctantly given them their wages to date and had said it would be deducted from their weekly pay. They were only a little surprised to see that the cash was of Victorian vintage.

The three friends worked hard and had developed a rhythm. Macy and Devon were taking a five-minute break and were talking about the hotel’s occupants. This was one of the old hotels along the trans-Canadian railroad and, in its heyday, travelers often stayed two weeks or more before moving on. Some people even lived there. As a matter of fact, many of the current occupants seemed to be there for the long haul.

Devon was saying, Rumor has it that the occupants of rooms 112 and 203—Remember the good-looking man and woman?—are having a tête-à-tête. Is the man in 107 still eyeing you?

Of course, Macy smiled.

Have you kept your skirts clean—figuratively, as well as literally?

As per orders. I’m not that kind of woman.

Ha! You’re just as man-starved as the rest of us. But having a man eyeing you can sure help take your mind off your situation.

Yeah, Macy sighed. I don’t know what this place is, but we’ve got to get out of here. We’re just going to have to ride the train out, get back to civilization, and try to put everything back together.

Courtney was cleaning the lobby by herself, straightening the furniture, hanging the newspapers in their rack, and stacking the magazines before she began dusting and mopping. The same young man from yesterday sat down, picked up a newspaper, and pretended to read as he watched her work. She felt his eyes on her and, like the other women, she thought that a man would damn sure come in handy about now.

Enjoying your stay, Sir? She gave him a smile, remembering not to flirt.

Yes, very nice hotel, nice rooms, excellent food. You know, I’ve been listening to you talk to the other staff and some of the guests; and I was noticing that, well, that this doesn’t seem like the kind of work you should be doing.

I enjoy my job, Sir, she said, looking around for Miss Carmichael, but I do have a college degree in biological sciences, and I have a job waiting for me in Virginia in September. She turned back to her dusting and straightening, and moved to another end table to dust it and then center the oil lamp and straighten the shade.

I know you’re busy now, … What was your name?

Courtney, Sir.

Pretty unusual name for a girl. My name is Nigel Dawes. I’m working my way across Canada to a position as a lawyer in Vancouver. A college degree in biological sciences? It would be quite interesting to talk to you when you get off duty, when you have time to sit down and chat.

I’m sorry, Sir, Courtney said, continuing to work and purposefully moving farther away from the guest, you must realize that ….

… you can’t fraternize with the guests. Yes, I realize that. I in no way had fraternization in mind; I simply thought we might talk, perhaps away from the hotel.

What the hell? Courtney thought, looking around again for Miss Carmichael. Perhaps we could have a cup of coffee or something. I get off at four and don’t have to be on duty for the dinner shift until six. Now, I really must get back to work, Sir.

Very well, the man said, standing up. I’ll meet you across the street at the café at, say, half four for a casual cup of coffee?

Courtney spotted her supervisor coming and nodded quickly. She moved across the room and began dusting the mantle and polishing the andirons.

Later when they went off duty, Macy and Devon exclaimed together, You have a date?

We saw you flirting with him, Macy finished.

"I didn’t flirt and I’m not going to fraternize. I’m simply meeting him across the street in the café for a cup of coffee."

Do you want to ask Miss Carmichael if this is within the rules? Devon asked sardonically, arms folded.

Well ….

Well, make sure you don’t get us canned, Macy said with more vehemence than she felt.

I’ll be careful, Courtney said, putting the finishing touches on her makeup and checking the fit of her new dress.

Damn, Macy said, still a man-magnet.

Bubbles on a stick, they work every time.

Crap! That’s pretty low, Devon, Courtney retorted.

I’m just jealous, Devon said. The two went downstairs to sit in the staff room, resisting the urge to spy.

What kind of law are you going to practice in Vancouver, Nigel? Courtney asked after their coffee had been served. Nigel had been making polite small talk and Courtney had followed suit, thinking that perhaps Victorian men must have moved very slowly.

Criminal law. I think it’s the most interesting and it certainly pays the best—if you win. He smiled wryly.

This isn’t your first position, is it?

No, but it is my first position with a private law firm. Prior to this new position in Vancouver, I was an assistant district attorney in Toronto. And defense can be quite a bit different from prosecution. You have to learn how to defend and at the same time attack, if you know what I mean.

Yes, a whole new skill set.

Skill set, that’s a new one. Isn’t it unusual for young women to go directly to work after university? It’s good to have an education, but it seems that you would’ve met a young man at university and be getting married. I imagine you had many young men paying you attention.

Paying attention to me? Yes, a few did, and I did step out with some of them for dinner, theater, and the like. She wasn’t mentioning what else they had done, even if she was in Westworld.

Speaking of appointments, aren’t you supposed to be on duty at six?

That’s right. What time is it? I’ve lost track. Oh, and thank you for the coffee.

It is half five and I suppose you have to change back into uniform. Perhaps we can have another appointment of this type, he said, standing up and helping her to her feet.

Yes, that would be nice. Perhaps in another public place. The café is awfully close to the hotel and I would prefer that no one see us together.

Nigel escorted her toward the door and then steered her into an alcove that couldn’t be seen from the restaurant. Courtney guessed what was going to happen and couldn’t help responding enthusiastically. Man-starved, she said to herself as she felt very definite stirrings in her nether regions. You’d better hurry along, Nigel said.

Three people watched her cross the street, three pretty women sitting in the café sipping tea.

CHAPTER 2

Tête-à-tête

Did he kiss you? Macy asked with thinly veiled jealousy as they changed into their dinner service uniforms.

Yes, and it definitely tweaked my glands.

You always get the first man that shows up, Devon sighed.

I think that could be classified as fraternization, Macy said, cocking her head at Courtney.

As long as it doesn’t go any further, we won’t get in trouble, Courtney snapped.

"Sure would be nice to have my glands tweaked," Devon complained.

I’d love to continue this, Courtney said impatiently as she hurried out of their bedroom, but duty calls.

He kissed her, Jennifer observed softly to Shannon as they sat on the sofa in the lobby waiting for dinner.

Melissa observed, "I’d be kissing my man if I were back in San Antonio where I belong. I know, I know, The System obviously is using her as a way for us to find out what Dawes is up to. She’ll be useful if he opens up to her."

Shannon agreed and said, Right there with you, Melissa. The trick is going to be getting the three new Outsiders to cooperate with us. Chances are they won’t want to get more deeply involved in this venue; they’ll want to get the hell out and go home. I guess we’ll have to tell them the story, have them tell us that we’re crazy, then they’ll get hit with a lightning bolt of realization and finally accept the fact that they have no choice.

Yeah, Jennifer said with a pregnant sigh. Courtney just showed up, by the way.

Courtney had another tryst down the street in another small café the next day. She certainly knew what she wanted to do, but she was on thin ice already and would certainly get fired if Miss Carmichael or, worse, Mrs. McGinnis found out. She was standing in the door watching Dawes walk away when there was a soft Excuse me from behind. She turned to see a pretty young woman right