Comstock Family

        Elizabeth stared at the food on her plate with disinterest, playing with the vegetables as she pushed them across the plate with a fork.

        "Whats the matter? Aren't you hungry?" Mother asked her. She was clearly disinterested in her food too, looking at her daughter with  worry etched on her face.

        "Leave it be, Alice," Father cut in. "I said it once and I won't repeat myself. She will listen and thats it."

        "I just think you are being too harsh on her, Zachary." she replied. "You are asking her to carry the whole world on her shoulders."

        "Maybe, but we cannot say no to our calling. God speaks to me and I only listen. She will listen too."

 

        Elizabeth looked up to her parents. Her Father, the Prophet himself was busy washing down the last of his meal with wine, while Lady Comstock smiled softly to her daughter.

        "Everything will be alright, my little lamb. I'm sure you will see that your father only wants best for you." Elizabeth still said nothing, but only huffed. She knew she was groomed to rule Columbia from an early age, but this was going too far.

 

        "Father, may I be excused from the table?" she spoke up, putting her fork aside.

        "Go, Elizabeth.  We will speak about this later."

 

        Elizabeth got up and marched off from the dining room, straight to hers. Comstock House was a real palace, floating in the air just to the side of Emproria. Wide corridors and marble floors, she loved that place at one time, but now she hated it as it became her prison. She knew her Father would not let up, even though she resisted with her whole being. Luckily, Elizabeth had someone to speak to. Daisy was always around, taking care of her ever since she was a little girl. Elizabeth loved her mother, but the negro woman was someone that she could always confide to, someone who would teach her about things that her father or mother would never speak about. No doubt she heard their shouting match earlier and would be waiting for Elizabeth in her room. She could not wait to speak to her.

 

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        Elizabeth entered her room and as expected, saw the servant woman, dressed in a plain black skirt with a white blouse. Daisy was in the middle of folding Elizabeth's clothes and putting them away. Truth be told, even though her duty was to perform all of the menial jobs around Comstock family, Elizabeth never treated or saw her as a servant.

 

        "Coming from a dinner with your Father, honey?" Daisy inquired, but she already knew the details.

        "I am so fed up of being kept here, and now he wants me to undergo a surgery!" Elizabeth was frustrated and threw herself on her bed, burying her face in her pillows. Daisy put away the folding to the side and sat down on the bed next to Elizabeth.

 

        "Liz, honey, he is your father. He wouldn't be doing it just to hurt you." Daisy delicately approached the subject.

        "In order to rule the city, I have to keep myself under control, whatever that means." Elizabeth's muffled voice came from the bed.

        "It wouldn't hurt though if you could get him to explain."

        "Its enough that a bit of my finger is missing, now he wants to 'temper me'." Elizabeth said the last word with a voice that mimicked the Prophet. Daisy chuckled lightly.

 

        "Lizzie, hon, do you remember how much trouble you caused your mother with your tears when you were a babe? You would cry and cry and then you would pop those things open around her whenever she came to you."

        "Its not like I ever asked for it." Elizabeth got her head out of the pillows. "and now I'm stuck with it and a hideous deformity." She looked up at her hand and a missing phalanx bone on her smallest finger, looking at it sadly.

        "Well, you know what happens with those things and now, that they seem to be more and more common, your father just wants what is best for you and the city." Daisy carried on, nudging the girl towards the idea.

       

        "I already said its not my fault" Elizabeth spoke up. "And what would you know about my tears?"

        "I read your aunt's books too, you know. Otherwise I wouldn't be able to keep up with a smartass like you." the older woman replied.

 

        "I wonder what aunt Ros will say about it." Elizabeth wondered and got up. She headed for her boudoir and Daisy followed.

        "Why won't you ask her? I'll pass on the message to her, she will be around tomorrow."

        "I would be great if she could speak to Father about this.".

 

        Elizabeth sat down in front of her mirror and observed herself. Her hair was tied together with a ribbon and she herself was dressed in her black and white dress, all modestly covered up and prim, as was proper for Prophet's daughter. She sighed, while Daisy stood behind her and untied the ribbon and let Elizabeth's hair loose. She set the ribbon aside and picked up the brush and begun working through the long, dark hair of young Miss Comstock.

 

        I want to go out, dress up, meet people." Elizabeth said quietly.

        "There will be time for that, young miss."

        "Oh stop it." Elizabeth scoffed at her title, albeit playfully. "I just wish I could meet someone who would take me away..."

        Daisy smiled. "Thats's a good dream, but how will he get around your big friend?"

 

        "Songbird..." Elizabeth said wistfully, thinking about her childhood pet turned bodyguard. That was his role all along and Elizabeth knew it, but she longed sometimes to be free of him. At the same time, she missed him as a friend sometimes. It was him who made sure she never left Comstock House or that no one unwanted approached it.

        "Don't you worry, my little lamb. Your aunt will talk with your father, maybe she will convince him."

        "I hope so too," Elizabeth replied, thinking if changing the mind of the Prophet was even possible.

 

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        The young lady was already in her bed by the time the negro servant was packing up to go home. While initially part of the home staff in the early years in Comstock House, As Elizabeth and Columbia grew, so did the need for a full time staff fell, or at least staff like Daisy. In no small part she actually wanted to be out of the Prophet's house herself. She crossed the long bridge, passed the security check and headed for her small apartment below Emporia. Her talks with the young miss Comstock were quite important to her, she cared for the girl, seeing her grow from a baby to a woman, and even teaching her about few things that usually mothers explain to their daughters.

 

        But that did not change the fact about who ruled Columbia or the rules that were in place. Daisy quickly made her way to the apartment across the dark streets. Even though Columbia was full of police and security, it was no good to linger around for too long, even for a Comstock House maid. Daisy lived alone and modestly, but she had many friends. She always felt more secure here than in the big floating palace. She set aside her bag and kneeled by the window, where she moved a loose floor panel to dig out tow books from a hidden space.

 

        She opened the red little book and stared intensely at the signs and symbols in it. From the other book, she pulled out a small sheet of paper and begun writing.

        When talking to the girl, Daisy learned of the procedure in detail and the planned date. Pettifog was already informed, she was told and Elizabeth had to be isolated and prepared in time for December. It seemed short but at the same time, it was something. Once she got the word down to Finkton, they would organize. She finished the note and put last of the ciphers down on paper. Daisy would stuff the note in a secluded pigeonhole on her way to work tomorrow. One of the courier boys will swing by and by noon next day, Shantytown would know. She took her time to put away everything and hide it again under the floorboard. She then laid down on her bed and sighed.

       

        Daisy, you know this girl her whole life, you can't just use her like that... but she would help her. She would help her and all the others, one way or the other.

 

        Elizabeth decided to do as Daisy advised her to do the next day - that is to speak with her father again, find out the details, maybe persuade him to delay it or find a way around it. Their first discussion ended in a shouting match and there was little she was able to learn or change her father's mind. She would not find him at the breakfast table, as the Prophet preferred to have his coffee in his study.  She did find her mother however, who still seemed to be set on cheering up her daughter.

 

        "I hope you are not upset with your father anymore," Lady Comstock begun the conversation as they sat at the dining table, with maids already laying out the breakfast and preparing the coffee.

        "I'm fine mother,  I want to speak to him about it." Elizabeth wasn't particularity hungry, but she felt she would need the energy for whatever talk she would have with her father. To her mother's surprise, she actually had some coffee herself.

       

        "Oh, that is good to hear. I will be meeting with the ladies of the temperance league later in the morning and afterwards, I shall be seeing to the people from the surface at the entrance chapel. I might be gone for some time, but your aunt and uncle should be around to meet with you and your father." She took a sip of her hot drink and made a rather disappointed face.

       

        "Its a shame that I will miss her, I haven't had the opportunity to speak with Rosalind in a while."

        "I will tell her that you asked about her, mother." Elizabeth reassured Lady Comstock. While Rosalind and Robert Lutece was not related to anyone in the Comstock family, they held the titles of Elizabeth's aunt and uncle. Lady Comstock was gracious towards the scientists for their help with her daughter and even developed a friendship with Rosalind to everyones surprise, given the initial antagonisms between the two when the girl appeared, as well as scientists' recluse nature.

       

        "If you want to catch your father, you better do it before he gets busy. His morning coffee is just the time for it." Her mother reminded her.

         "I better go then." Elizabeth got up. "No rest for the wicked, is there?" She quipped.

         "Elizabeth!" Lady Comstock made an outraged expression. While Elizabeth was quoting the Book of Isaiah, she was implying a rather impious thing in reference to Zachary Comstock. But Elizabeth didn't care and chuckled to herself quietly. It was hard to believe that the seed of the Prophet would have a mischievous streak in it.

 

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        Elizabeth made her way up the stairs to Prophet's study. She passed through the House library - vast room lined up with books from floor to the ceiling, with a walkway above and a cozy corner with two armchairs and a fireplace. Next to her bedroom, which already was littered with her own books, her father's collection was her second most favored place to spend time until recently.

 

        She walked up to double doors that separated the library from the study. She rapped on the door softly, as she always did before entering, even though her father never refused her entry. She waited for a brief moment, expecting his voice to usher her in, but no sound came. Elizabeth noticed an untouched tray with coffee on the table next to the doors. This was not unusual, sometimes urgent business called the prophet away and this could be no different.

 

        What was unusual was the sudden impulse to go inside. As mischievous as she was, she never dared to enter the inner sanctum of the Prophet before. Then again, she was never as upset with him before. She wasn't going to stay sheltered forever, and the worst he could do was to give her a talking to. She already knew what it was like, it couldn't get any worse now.

        She felt light tingling and trepidation as her hand touched the door handle. Despite the fear, her excitement was greater. Elizabeth took in a deep breath and opened the door. She entered the office with light steps, inaudible on the soft carpet. She knew how the room looked and the Prophet changed it little if at all in the last 20 years, only adding the odd bit of technology as times moved on - a phonograph, voxophone laying on the table in the corner, and a telephone. On the walls there were maps, flags and war trophies. Apart from a heavy desk with green felt top in the middle, room was filled with shelves and filing cabinets. Notes, documents, files, all spread out evenly across the room. Zachary Comstock never allowed anyone to stay in there for too long, which explained the organized chaos that he kept in there.

       

        Elizabeth did not dare to touch anything, but she nonetheless circled around the familiar room and looked at it from unfamiliar angles, exploring every nook and cranny. She looked at everything and looked for nothing in particular. Her interest was suddenly piqued by what looked like a photograph that was sticking out of a file under a pile of other ones on the desk.

        She could just about make out the name on the folder, starting with 'D' and ending on 'itt'. She couldn't pull it out, as she would move the entire stack, but what she could do was to take the photograph out. She pulled apart the papers and gave it a light tug. It came loose quickly and Elizabeth was now face to face with a strapping young man. He had a strong jaw, crop of messy hair and air of something special about him. She looked at the photograph for a moment, taking in the look of the man, before she heard solid footsteps outside.

 

        Elizabeth quickly tucked away the photograph in the folds of her dress and moved away from the desk when the doors opened and a bearded man entered.

 

        "Elizabeth? What are you doing in here?" Prophet asked.

        "Mother said that you would be here so I came and waited for you." She replied.

        "You know better than to enter here without permission!" His expression turned sour for a moment, but Elizabeth's downcast eyes and apologetic posture quickly dispelled Prophet's ire. His face lightened up and he moved to sit behind the desk in the leather chair.

        "Now, I'm sure you didn't mean any harm. But don't it again."

        "Father, I wanted to speak to you about the procedure," Elizabeth said.

        "Ah yes, of course. I saw your aunt downstairs, we exchanged few words about it."

        "Is it really necessary?" She asked with concern. "You know I never mean or want any of those things to occur, they just... happen without me. I barely leave this place as it is!"

        "Elizabeth, your future demands that the city be made safe and whatever God-given gift you might have has to be curbed for the safety of all." The Prophet always did everything for one reason only, and that was to pave the way for his daughter. And it was growing tiresome to her.

 

        "Father, can we delay it? Maybe Rosalind and Robert can find something to help me..."

        "Elizabeth, I put everyone at lot of risk if this continues. I know it might hurt you, but the alternative is much, much worse."

        Elizabeth did not like his dark tone or the distant stare, as if Zachary Comstock already saw the alternative. It seemed that Luteces were her only solution now.

        "Father, before I go, I wanted to ask you something. What do you know about DeWitt?"

       

        Father Comstock's face turned grim in a blink of an eye. It was frightening to see her father like that and she trembled ever so slightly. she had seen him like that before.

        "Where did you hear that name?"

        "N-nowhere I heard it somewhere..."

        "Who told you about him? What do you know?!"

        "I don't know anything, I don't know."

        This time, the grim face did not go away. "Do not ever mention that name again. Forget that you heard it at all." He looked at her and huffed, before speaking up again. "I'm going to speak to Doctor Powell, there is no point in delaying the procedure."

        Elizabeth's face that turned sour. She turned on her heel and walked out, slamming the doors.

       

        Elizabeth was still tense but calmed herself after she stormed out of Father's office. Whoever that DeWitt man was, she had to find out. If he made her father furious, it was already a big plus in her book. There was something about the way he looked that intrigued her too. Last but not least, he was hell of a looker compared with the dandies that she had to suffer from time to time when her father invited important people. She had no penchant for dock workers or Finkton laborers, but this one seemed different. Elizabeth took a quick peek at the photograph one last time and put it back in her pocket before going downstairs to meet with Aunt Ros.

 

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        Elizabeth descended the stairs to see her mother converse in quiet, familiar voice with a red-haired woman in a jacket with a tie and a long skirt. She could recognize that outfit anywhere.

 

        "Aunt Ros!" She ran down the stairs to approach and embrace the woman, who barely had the time to turn around to meet the girl.

        "Oh, I didn't see you there Elizabeth." One could tell that Rosalind Lutece was never one to engage in much physical contact with people by her stiff way of acting, but she returned the hug with a genuine pat on Elizabeth's back.  

        "I already spoke with your mother," she said as Elizabeth let go of her. !It would appear that the Prophet has indeed chose the time for the operation. i can imagine that you are concerned, for all the right reasons."

Aunt Rosalind never made anything sound pleasant, but more often than not scary talk turned out to be just that, while the young girl preferred to heed her own intuition. This time it was now joke however and the statement only added to Elizabeth's burden.

        "Betty, my dear, I will leave you with your aunt. She will take you outside." Her mother doted on her even well into her adulthood, making sure that her daughter knew exactly what and where she would go, even though Rosalind Lutece had the uncanny ability to find and keep the girl around. She alone could always make sure that the girl did not wander off too far in the city, something which helped everyone immensely while little miss Comstock grew up.

        "Ok, I will go get my hat." Elizabeth ran up to the cloak room just off the foyer, while Lady Comstock exchanged last word with Rosalind, leaning in and whispering into her ear. Rosalind gave her a rare half-smile and nodded. Lady Comstock then left without a word.

 

        Elizabeth returned with a hat, similar to the ones worn across Columbia, with a blue ribbon attached.

        "Come Elizabeth, I will take you to the lab, we will talk of your procedure and of your father there."

 

The Lutece Lab wasn't too far from Comstock House, but the two women strolled slowly through the Streets of Emporia.  Elizabeth savored every moment she spent there.  

        "Is the procedure really necessary?" Elizabeth asked with concern. "Its not my fault those things happen, I don't even know what they are."

        "Necessary? Strictly speaking, no, it isn't. But if there is one thing that your father doesn't like, its surprises," the scientist replied.

        "Isn't there some other way to stop them? The tears, I never asked for any of that."

        "I know that better than anyone else. Trust me," Rosalind said, and added after a brief pause, "your uncle is an exception of course, but he is a special case."  

        "I wish I just could go outside more, without people treating me like an egg or a vial of nitroglycerin," the girl sighed.

        "Everyone probably told you how much your father loves you, no doubt about that. But if you want real answers, you need to look into the problem with clear mind." They passed the crowded market and descended the stairs to the small square in front of the lab.

        "I hope you did read The Principles of Quantum Mechanics? Like I told you?"

        "Yes, I read it seven times now."

        "Keep going until you get to seventy seven. What about the chapters in 'Barriers to Interdimensional Travel?'"

        "Those too, and the paper you wanted me to write," girl replied with resignation.

        "Well, what is your conclusion then? I wouldn't be giving you those to do without a good reason." They were now at the door to the lab. Rosalind stopped and waited for the reply.

        "There is a difference between what we can normally perceive and what is out there."

        "And what is 'there'?" Rosalind pressed on, unsatisfied with imprecise answer.

        "The probability space, and the tears are windows between each probability." Elizabeth recited and Rosalind gav her an approving nod.

        "You have it all figured out then. I won't burden you with further explanations, that would 'ruin the fun', as Robert puts it." Rosalind pushed the door and entered the front of the lab.

        The front desk was unmanned, as usual whenever Robert or Rosalind were working on something bigger than usual and sent the receptionist home. Elizabeth dreamed of working there at one point, if only to get out of the House and be closer to the laboratory, but her father was adamant, that the Lamb won't stain her hands with menial work.

They quickly passed into the interior and walked straight to the main part of the house, where contraption stood silently.

        "Robert, are you at home?" Rosalind asked loudly and waited for a reply. They heard someone walking down the stairs and the male Lutece came into the room.

        "Yes, I'm here what is..oh, I see you brought Elizabeth," his voice jumped from irritated to pleasantly surprised. "Hi uncle," Elizabeth greeted the man warmly. She loved him as much as she did her aunt, if not slightly more. Robert Lutece did show somewhat more emotion at times, much to young Elizabeth's delight when he used to give her candy whenever she was in the lab. Nowadays, he passed her books she couldn't find in the library, some of which were less approved titles.

        "The Prophet is planning the procedure sooner than we thought and Elizabeth is rightly worried about it," Rosalind said to her brother.

        "I guess we will have to see if the operation is necessary at all." Robert mused to himself loudly.

        "But that will be hard without meddling with few constants...

        "...and variables."

 

        Elizabeth decided to ask them something. It was likely that Lutece twins would give her a far more honest answer than anyone at home, even with their cryptic manner.  

        "Aunt, Uncle, do any of you know anything about man named DeWitt?"

        For the first time in her life, Elizabeth saw the stoic Lutece twins shaken as they looked at her with pale faces and wide eyes.