Grand Tour by Elizabeth Chatsworth

Author:Elizabeth Chatsworth [Chatsworth, Elizabeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: CamCat Publishing

18

THE AETHERSCOPE

Constance stood alone in the center of her cabin, gazing at herself in the aetherscope mirror. The Constance staring back at her wore the same explorer’s outfit she did. Her tiny white pith helmet was tilted at the same jaunty angle. An adorable gray kitten snoozed on the alcove bed behind the other Constance, in the exact same spot where, in this world, Boo was snoring off two plates of the scientists’ charcuterie.

Across the dimensions, a knock sounded on two cabin doors. “Enter,” called out both Constance and her alternate self, each turning their heads to see who would enter.

As Cawley walked into her other self’s cabin carrying a tea tray, Constance grinned at her almost-handsome cowboy visitor. Trusdale was dressed in his least offensive all-black ensemble. A Western-cut frock coat, lariat tie, silk shirt, svelte waistcoat, and wool pants complemented his bespoke boots embroidered with silver airships. In his hands, he carried a champagne bottle and a pair of cut crystal glasses that oozed sophistication over alternate Cawley’s mundane teacups.

Constance clapped her hands with glee. “I win,” she said, glancing back at her alternate self’s shocked face. Her other self pouted as her version of Cawley passed behind her, heading for the iron bistro table.

Trusdale frowned. “Are you well? Why are you . . .” he stepped forward and glanced between her and the mirror’s image. “What the . . . is that a cat?”

“Is that a cowboy?” asked alternate Constance. “And no chaperone? You’re a wild woman.”

Alternate Cawley turned, saw Trusdale, and dropped his tea tray with a crash. Awoken by the sound, Boo barked at the cat with the ferocity of a Doberman pinscher.

“Boo, be quiet,” said Constance to the yapping Yorkie as Welli shot into the cabin with a riding crop raised in his right hand.

“What’s happening?” shouted Welli, staring wildly around the cabin. “Are we under attack? Is it sky pirates?” From his untucked pink silk shirt, bare feet, and crumpled linen pants, it appeared he’d been woken up by other Cawley’s tea tray. He stared into the mirror. The other Constance waved at him. “Cousin Wellington. I haven’t seen you in years. You’ve made it out of debtor’s prison in your dimension then. Good for you. Third time lucky, eh?”

Welli blinked and lowered the riding crop and stared between the two Constances. “Like one wasn’t enough to handle. Explain yourself, dear cousin. My Constance, that is, not you, Lady Phantasmagoria.”

“Don’t call her that. She’s another me, in a world very similar to ours. Some of the other me’s in other dimensions with whom I’ve chatted have been most strange. One poor girl was entirely preoccupied with seaweed scrapbooks. Another had willingly entered a convent. And in some dimensions, I don’t exist at all. Imagine a world without me in it.”

“Sounds like heaven,” said Welli. “Is whatever it is you’re doing safe?”

“No, it isn’t,” said Trusdale. “But your cousin here thinks it’s the only way to stop RATT.”

Constance in the mirror gasped. “Gosh, the

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