James the Strong’s magnificent silhouette was overlooked by the discovery of Earth and yet again, he sulked.

  Soon, reflectors (now called “mirrors”) were all the rage, and any Settler worth a jot owned not only a mirror but several—large and positioned to catch the sunset at every angle going. And once a language adapter was developed, a whole new world opened up to the planet.

  Within a year, the Settlers were peering into the mirrors, reflecting parts of lives Victorians called private. They stared into living rooms, bedrooms, restaurants, and conference halls, quickly picking up the difference between a bribe and a tip, interfering and advising, and a fumble with staff and conjugal rights with “one’s wife.”

  Anywhere there was a mirror, those in the city watched like a soap opera.

  The Incomers couldn’t afford large mirrors. What they had were pocket mirrors, which they took about their person, waiting for the sunset—which, when arrived, sent them into a spin of a“headless chicken” running, trying to catch the light like an elusive mobile signal.

  It took six months to develop an aerial that connected to Earth and another month for the production to be rolled out, leading to rows of identical Incomer’s huts covered in aerials and Incomers finishing a day’s work “on the dot” to “catch the sunset.”

  The Foreigners were busier than ever, caught up making mirrors—with instructions—flat-pack aerials—with instructions—and price-cut Victorian clothes that were machine washable while trying to deal with an influx of old wigs to recycle.

  Settler men had given up wigs for hats and beards and the amusing tipping of a hat in the street, along with “suffragette” joking, while women flounced about in dresses with petticoats, privately wondering if petticoat-wearing was really the be-all and end-all so many claimed.

  The Settlers and the Incomers found the Victorians hugely funny. They laughed at the old-fashioned ideas of Darwinism and even had Darwinism parties, making up names for four-legged creatures, then falling about the floor laughing.? They learned that owning a woman was called marriage and wedding dresses were best left for Darwinism parties due to white being the sort of color that could only be worn once before “needing a wash.”

  It was Fanny who first saw a suffragette.? She, being the offspring of the spokeswoman, was, as many called her, a chip off the old block and just as mouthy.? Fanny was staring into a tank-sized mirror wondering how long it would be before her owner would arrive looking for a “seeing to.”

  Her owner’s idea of a “seeing to” was a quick in-and-out under a petticoat, an orgasm was a distant memory to Fanny. “My family member is comatose” she often claimed. “It hasn’t woken up in years, let alone applauded an entry.”

  She stared at her image and was just in the middle of counting how many of her friends felt the same way when her image morphed into the bedroom of a suffragette.

  She watched, fascinated, and over the next few months, a new world opened to her.? She started tea parties for women and talked of voting.

  “It’s the cornerstone of democracy,” said Fanny over a particularly stewed cup of hemp tea.

  “I thought democracy was standing outside the meeting room yelling,” said the aging horselike woman, “something the Foreigners did.”

  “Apparently not,” said Fanny in her best “women from the mirror” accent.

  The horselike woman sat up. With an accent like that, Fanny obviously knew what she was talking of.

  LM-2 and her two comrades were installed in a room next to the meeting room. They were whipping up designs of mirrors that didn’t rely on the sunsets, with switches and light adjustments.? Mirrors had changed everything, and Aggie struggled to adjust.? In a flash, LM-2 was in her library, and James the Strong was quoting her like she had the answer to everything . . . claiming LM-2 was the son he’d always dreamed of.? Gone was the man who depended on her. Instead, James the Strong was quoting a woman dressed as a man who had her son eating out of her hand, and she, the mother of the next leader, had as much influence as an Alien.

  She was as redundant as a used tea bag.

  Aggie knew it was only a matter of time before James the Strong would work out exactly what the bulge in LM-2’s groin really was. In fact, she often wondered if he already had.? She began to wake up in the morning in panic, looking to the future with dread; soon her position would be as buggered as the flowered beds that were constantly stripped.

  She thought, pondered, and concluded that there was only one thing she could do to save herself: outthink LM-2 and interfere.

  Before anyone could sneeze “statue,” Aggie had come up with a template for a mirror that worked any time of the day.? The Foreigners, however, pooh-poohed her ideas; they had been told by the Librarian that she was a spy, not to be trusted.? Not that anyone trusted the Librarian, but at least he had some clout, and could change things.? Aggie had as much clout as a tea bag.

  It was tough for LM-2, remaining incognito in a man’s outfit. James the Strong loved to stand beside her and inhale her scent while she explained things so clearly, like Aggie used to.? LM-2 tried to keep her distance, but he was so large and the room so small, and he was always touching . . .

  “You make everything so clear-cut—like sliced cheese,” James the Strong said to her, literally breathing down her neck.

  The truth was, she was starting to enjoy it.

  For a start, he had very pleasant-smelling armpits, and he always came to her—rather than the other two Foreigners—with a “let’s hear what our LM-2 has to say.”

  “Merely tactile,” muttered Foreigner One, who had taken to talking like the Librarian, “a habit to hide any confusion. This whole mirror thing has him flummoxed.”

  “As confused as a four-legged creature after a day in a hemp field,” muttered Foreigner Two.

  “I wouldn’t let him hear you say that,” muttered LM-2.

  “Doubt he’d understand,” said Foreigner Two.

  “He just needs gentle guidance,” muttered LM-2 to herself. “A little time, that’s all.”

  “Yes,” muttered Foreigner One, “he is but a flummoxed creature.”

  Foreigner Two looked at his comrade. “Just cause you’re best buddies with that Librarian doesn’t mean you have to talk like him.”

  “Best buddies?” said Foreigner One.

  “Yeah, you’re so far up his backside you could clean his teeth.”

  “That is a highly inappropriate comment,” said Foreigner One.

  “Oh, I forgot, he’s got falsies, hasn’t he,” snapped Foreigner Two.

  “Falsies are for Incomers. What he has is a set of . . .” He turned to LM-2. “What do you call ’em?”

  “New teeth,” she sighed.

  “New teeth for an old face,” said Foreigner Two.

  “You’re so flippant,” huffed Foreigner One.

  “Oh am I? I’m not the one flicking his golden locks at a man old enough to be his grandfather.”

  Foreigner One glared at his comrade. “I am merely trying to oil the works for us,” he hissed. “He is the only one who can make changes.”

  “Oil? You’re so slippery you’ve got skid marks,” snapped Foreigner Two, “on your tongue.”

  “It doesn’t matter what age the Librarian is. We need to focus on these mirrors—work together—or we’ll be back to the arts corner, achieving nothing,” said LM-2.

  “Yeah, like you want to go back,” said Foreigner Two.

  “Leave it,” said Foreigner One.

  LM-2 stopped. “What are you on about?”

  “We’ve seen the way you look when he comes in,” said Foreigner Two. “You’d better be careful.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I said leave it,” snapped Foreigner One.

  “I wouldn’t get any ideas. That Aggie’s still got her feet under a few tables.”

  “That’s enough,” snapped Foreigner One, gesturing to the corridor full of voices.?“That Aggie will be here any minute, and we need to be prepared. You know what that Librarian thinks of her.”

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.