“I don’t really like the idea of being a sacrifice,” I said.
“Well, it’s not like I’m going to burn you at the stake or anything,” Kate said.
“You’ll just keep me around in a cage,” I muttered. “Like one of your specimens.” She grinned. “Well, you are quite an appealing specimen.”
“You don’t mean any of this,” I said impatiently. I checked over my shoulder and couldn’t see Miss Simpkins anymore. “Let’s turn off here.”
Kate looked down the narrow forest path. She raised an eyebrow at me. “I don’t think that trail will make for easy bicycling.”
“It’d wear us out,” I agreed. “We could always have a rest.”
“In the shadows behind a large tree, perhaps?”
“Most likely,” I said.
Kate and I hadn’t been properly alone since we’d left Paris, and I was desperate to hold her and kiss her. Maybe I could get her to admit she wasn’t serious about never marrying.
“It’s not a good idea,” Kate said playfully. “You obviously haven’t heard of Mimsy Rogers.”
“Who?”
“Earlier this summer, she said she was just going off to have a bicycle ride in Stanley Park. A little while later some family friends were hiking in the forest, and they spotted Mimsy’s bicycle against a tree. A few paces on, they saw someone else’s bicycle against a tree, and a few paces after that, they saw Mimsy Rogers in a passionate embrace with Michael Wright. It caused quite a scandal.”
The words “passionate embrace” made my heart beat harder. “When have you ever cared about causing a scandal?” I asked.
“There’s nothing I’d like more than a good kiss in the woods,” Kate said, “but I don’t have time right now. I’ve got to be somewhere at four, and I don’t want to be all rumpled.”
“Tea with James Sanderson, maybe?” I asked.
“No. It’s a secret.”
We pedaled on around the boardwalk in silence. I tried not to let my disappointment—or jealousy—show. I didn’t know when we’d have another chance to be alone—I certainly couldn’t imagine we’d have any time aboard the spaceship. Assuming I even made it onto the ship. My thoughts drifted uneasily to the final trials that awaited me.
“I really want to be on this expedition,” I said.
“You will be,” she said.
Maybe I should’ve been flattered by her confidence, but I felt irritated. She really had no idea. “It’s not that easy,” I said. “There’re still more than twenty candidates, and they’re all good.”
“Not as good as you.”
“I wish. I’m weak in some areas. In the suit, especially.”
I told her about the underwater training, and how, even after three sessions, I was still clumsy and uneasy. She said nothing for a moment, and I wished I’d held my tongue. Maybe she didn’t like hearing about my shortcomings. Kate had very high standards. I didn’t imagine she’d be very tolerant of failure.
“If people try hard enough, they usually get what they want,” she said.
I looked over at her, annoyed. “Easy for you to say.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, they just invited you. You didn’t even have to prove yourself.”
“Prove myself?” she said, glaring. She reached over and tried to shove me off my bicycle.
“Hey!” I said, swerving out of reach.
“So all the reading and studying and discovering I’ve been doing, that doesn’t count as proving myself?”
She veered over to have another go at me, but I was ready this time and braked. She overshot and teetered off her bike. Luckily she landed on the soft wood chips beside the boardwalk. I dropped my bike and hurried over to her.
“Are you all right?” I asked, holding out my hand.
She ignored me and dusted herself off. “Mr. Lunardi and Sir John invited me because of what I’d already accomplished,” she said, looking at me coldly. “I’ve already proven myself. Now you have to prove yourself.”
“I will,” I said. “Like I’ve always done.”
“Well, make sure you do, because Miss Karr likes you—for some bizarre reason—and if you don’t come, she might change her mind again.”
“Is that the only reason you want me to come?”
“No, just one of them.”
We got back onto our bikes. Our conversation shriveled up a bit after that, but I was too angry and hurt to rush in and patch things up. Let Kate do that, I thought. But she too was silent.
“I didn’t mean to insult you,” I said finally. “It just seems easy for you, that’s all.”
“Well, it’s not. Men always think they’re more deserving than women. It’s just like Mrs. Pankhurst said.”
“I’m tired of Mrs. Pankhurst,” I muttered.
“And she’s tired of you too.” Then Kate smiled. “Sorry for trying to push you off your bike. The look on your face was very satisfying, though.”
When we neared the main road leading back into the city, Kate checked her pocket watch.
“I should get going,” she said.
“Where?” I demanded. What was it she’d rather do than spend the rest of the afternoon with me?
“You don’t want to know,” she said. “It’s nothing to do with you.”
“You won’t tell me?”
She shook her head.
I was near crazed with curiosity by now. “I’m coming.”
“Don’t come,” she said.
“I’m coming.”
“Suit yourself.”
Pedaling hard, she took the city road out of the park.
“What about Miss Simpkins?” I asked.
“She knows the way home.”
Kate was very quiet as she led us downtown. We turned onto Rostrum Street with all its smart shops and fine ladies and gentlemen, and nannies pushing rich babies in their prams.
Kate coasted to a stop in front of Wittmer’s department store and tipped her bike against the wall. She looked into the shop window.
“Now listen,” she whispered. “You might want to stay on your bike.”
I looked at her, confused. “Why?”
“Just get ready to leave when I say.” Her eyes narrowed.
“Kate, what’s going on?”
I looked around suspiciously but noticed nothing unusual. Kate stared hard at the fur coat in the window, her blouse rising and falling rapidly.
The art gallery clock started to chime the hour.
From the wicker basket on her bicycle, Kate produced a hammer.
“Is that a hammer?” I asked stupidly.
“Yes,” she said. “The biggest I could find. Watch your eyes.”
And with that she swung the hammer at the shop window.
“What’re you doing!” I exclaimed.
“Making a statement,” she said, as glass shattered and sprayed everywhere. Twice more she swung the hammer, and the sound of breaking glass wasn’t coming from just Kate’s window. All up and down the street, hammers flashed in the gloved hands of elegantly dressed women. The sidewalks were awash with glass. Nannies screamed and wheeled their prams out into the street. Cars began honking. I thought I heard a policeman’s whistle, and then came the shouting of shop owners rushing to their doorsteps.
Kate dropped her hammer on the sidewalk and seized her bicycle.
“We’re off!” she cried, her cheeks flushed.
She hopped onto her bicycle and scooted away. Stupefied, I followed. There was a traffic jam now, as dozens of women on bicycles fled the scene. A couple had already been seized by gentlemen, and there was much shouting and screaming.
Kate looked back at me, and I don’t think I’d ever seen her eyes brighter. “What would your mother think of me now?” she asked.
Suddenly there was a policemen stepping out in front of us, and a man from behind shouting: “That’s her! And the young fellow too! Grab them!”
Kate tried to swerve around him, but the policeman grabbed
her handlebars, and then mine.
“Hold up there!” the officer shouted. “You’ll be coming with me to the station, the both of you.”
“Would you like some of my bread?” Kate asked.
“I’m not hungry,” I said.
“It’s not a bit stale. I always thought they gave only stale bread, but it’s quite fresh. Really, I’ve been most impressed by how courteously—”
“We’re in jail, Kate.”
We were crammed into a holding cell in the basement of the Lionsgate police station. The police had clearly rounded up a great many window smashers, for we had no shortage of company. It was as merry a scene as you were likely to find in a jail cell. Apart from me and the bewildered drunk cowering in one corner, it was all ladies in their white blouses and long skirts and summer hats. There must’ve been more than twenty. Some of them were cheerfully chanting slogans and bits of inspiring hymns.
“A bit quieter, if you don’t mind, ladies,” moaned the drunk. “My head’s hurting something awful.”
“Look,” Kate said to me, “I tried to tell them you weren’t my accomplice, but they didn’t believe me.”
Some of the ladies started making a fuss of me.
“What a noble young man!”
“Our brother in arms!”
“I think it’s commendable you’re supporting our cause,” said a woman in a big flowered hat.
“I’m not, really,” I said.
“Not many men would link arms with us for equality and justice. Mrs. Pankhurst would be very proud of you, young man!”
I smiled weakly.
“I must say, I did enjoy it,” Kate admitted. “I’m sorry I didn’t give you a chance with the hammer.”
“That’s all right,” I said. “I’m not quite ready to become a window-smashing lunatic.”
“All we want is the right to vote, Matt, same as men. But they won’t listen to us, so we have to make ourselves heard.” Kate grinned. “I think they heard that, don’t you?”
“I can’t believe the trouble you’ve caused me,” I said.
“Look, I did tell you not to come. Anyway, you’ve done nothing wrong. It’s a simple misunderstanding. Once my father arrives to get me out, he’ll be able to sort…” She trailed off. “No, no, he can’t do that.”
“What?” I said.
Kate looked desperate. “If my father sees you here, he’ll know we were together, and that would open a whole new Pandora’s box.”
“Can’t you just tell him we ran into each other on the street?”
She snorted. “He wouldn’t believe that. I could tell he suspected something at the garden party. He thinks we’re having a liaison.”
“They’re having a liaison!” the woman in the big hat said to her friend. “They’ve found love in a jail cell….”
“There’s no liaison!” I said angrily.
Kate pulled me back deeper into the cell. “Daddy can’t know you’re here. When he comes, um, just cower back here.”
I stared at her in mounting anger. “You’re joking.”
“And maybe turn your face to the wall.”
“You’re going to waltz out of here without me?”
Kate spoke in a taut whisper. “My parents are going to be angry enough as it is. But if they think I’m sneaking around with you too, they might not let me go on the expedition.”
I was almost shouting. “And what about me? If I don’t show up for my final trials tomorrow, they’ll kick me out. Finished!”
“Call your mother,” Kate said. “She can get you out.”
“I don’t want her to know!”
“My father knows!”
A great flash came from the other side of the bars, and I turned, blinking, to see a wiry press photographer beaming at us over his camera.
“That’s lovely, thanks very much, ladies—oh, and gentleman. Don’t worry, sir, you made it into the picture, too. Tomorrow’s early edition, if you’re interested.”
Kate and I stared at each other in stunned silence.
“Well,” she said, “now that we’re in the paper together, I suppose Daddy can get you out too.”
“Thanks,” I said. “Thanks very much.”
THE FINAL TRIALS
“This is you, is it not, Mr. Cruse?” asked Sir John McKinnon, the Minister of Air. He pointed to the photograph on the front page of the Lionsgate Times-Herald. There I was beside Kate, among a large group of jailed suffragettes, some of whom looked very pleased to have their pictures in the paper.
“It is, sir, but I can explain.”
It was first thing Monday morning, and I’d been summoned to Mr. Lunardi’s office. He sat behind his desk, glowering. Captain Walken stood nearby, his face grave.
“I hope it’s a very good explanation, Mr. Cruse,” said Sir John.
I told them, as simply as I could, about the window-smashing incident, and how my presence was just an unhappy coincidence.
“You had no idea what Miss de Vries meant to do?” Sir John asked.
“None, sir.”
“The young lady’s very strong willed,” said Captain Walken. “We saw that when the Aurora was shipwrecked.”
“If I’d known she was a suffragette,” said Sir John, “I’d never have invited her. Our government doesn’t look kindly on anarchists. Smashing windows! What a load of nonsense!”
I took a breath. “But her cause is right, sir.”
“What’s that?” Sir John snapped.
It was too late to go back now. “Women should have the right to vote, sir.”
“Outlandish,” said Sir John. “I won’t hear of it.”
I looked from Mr. Lunardi to Captain Walken, wondering what they were thinking. I worried I’d just set myself apart from all of them. It was a very lonely feeling, but I’d said what I believed, and wouldn’t try to take it back.
“I’m sure,” Mr. Lunardi said carefully, “that we all have our own views of the suffragettes. But let’s put them aside for now. Politics has no place on our expedition.”
“It’s not that simple,” said Sir John. “Miss de Vries’s name and photograph are in the paper. If we publicly announce she’s part of our expedition, there will be an outcry. I won’t have her besmirching the Canadian space program. She’s out, gentlemen.”
I was about to object, but Captain Walken caught my eye and silenced me with a small shake of his head.
“I think that would be a great shame,” Captain Walken said to Sir John. “Miss de Vries can be headstrong, certainly, but I’ve never met a young lady who’s smarter or braver.”
Mr. Lunardi nodded. “At such short notice, it’ll be difficult, if not impossible, to find someone of her caliber.”
“We can delay the launch,” said Sir John. “In any event, I don’t see what choice we have.”
“We do have a choice, and it’s ours to make,” said Mr. Lunardi, standing and pacing, hands thrust into his pocket. “I’ll be frank. I wish Miss de Vries hadn’t got her picture in the paper, but I don’t want to replace her for it. She’s perfect for this expedition, and I know you feel the same.”
“The government of Canada—” Sir John began to say, but Mr. Lunardi cut him off.
“I’m an equal partner in this venture, and I don’t want second best here. I despise compromises for appearance’s sake. My ship is ready to launch, and I don’t think anyone, including the Prime Minister, would want us to delay and risk being beaten by another country.”
It was quite a speech, and I was awfully impressed—and grateful.
Sir John gave a harrumph and gazed out the window. “Very well, we’ll keep her on, but I’ll be writing her a very stiff letter this morning, forbidding her from any more suffragette shenanigans.” The Minister of Air looked at me. “And what of Mr. Cruse here?”
“He’s blameless,” said Mr. Lunardi. “I’ll make sure the paper prints as much in the evening edition.”
“Thank you, sir,” I said, feeling completely wrung out.
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“You’re free to go, Mr. Cruse,” said Mr. Lunardi. “And good luck today.”
Captain Walken came out into the hallway with me. “That young woman has a habit of getting you into trouble,” he said with a chuckle. “I can still see the two of you on the island after the Aurora was shipwrecked. She’d dragooned you into searching the jungle with her, and you two came out after the typhoon hit soaked to the skin. I don’t think I’d ever seen a lad look more miserable.”
“It was the ship, sir, seeing her so tattered and torn.”
The captain gave me a kind look. “When I wasn’t much older than you, I had a rather ill-advised romance. I was like you, Matt, from a humble family, but her people were very wealthy. It caused no end of trouble.”
I looked at him in surprise, for I’d never known this about him. But I feared what he would say next.
“Everyone told us no good could come of it,” Captain Walken said.
“What happened, sir?” I asked.
“I married her,” he said, and grinned. “We had our thirtieth anniversary this year.”
I grinned back. “I like the ending to that story.”
“Put her from your thoughts now and get some breakfast, Matt. You’ve got a long day ahead of you.”
“Gentlemen,” said Captain Walken as he stood on the pool deck, “here is your situation, and it is a dire one. The hull of your ship has been breached and you are outside to replace the damaged metal plate. Time is of the essence; the ship is losing pressure and oxygen, and you have only half an hour. What’s more, you’re working on the dark side of the ship, and your helmet-mounted lamp is your only source of illumination. Work swiftly; every second counts.”
There were ten of us suited up, just waiting to have our helmets put on. I knew the captain wasn’t just being dramatic. We were being timed, and if I did poorly this morning, I hadn’t a hope. My stomach was in knots.
“Good luck, Matt,” Tobias said beside me.
“You too.”
“Hey, Cruse, what’s that on your back?” Bronfman asked.
“What is it?” I asked, worried something was wrong with my suit.
Some of the other fellows were looking over at me and laughing, but I couldn’t see what they were looking at, or reach it with my stiff arms. Tobias turned me around, and snorted. He peeled off a piece of paper and handed it to me. VOTES FOR WOMEN, it said.