I meet with Miss Alice

Dear Sir Williard,

Three busy days have passed since my last entry in this growing journal. I have spent a good portion of the 500 pounds that were loaned to me. Much to Andrews' relief I now have a reputable ensemble of clothes and some more fine (albeit second hand) dressers, wardrobes and other much needed furniture. More importantly to me, I am now the owner of a Webley Double-Action revolver that is older than I but which, I have been assured, is still highly serviceable, a Huntington Arms aether-rifle capable of stopping even a fully mature bull rocephant in its tracks and a Purdy side-by-side sidelock shotgun much like the one I used when visiting your country estates what seems like so many years ago.

I paid all my employees their first month's pay last night and gave them all the day off. Not even Andrews objected either to receiving his pay a week earlier than they expected or the day off as well and as soon as the breakfast dishes were cleared away all five of my employees were off as quick as mice before I changed my mind. My decision to empty the house was not one based on altruism, Sir Williard; you see in the days since I discovered the mysterious lights in my boathouse I have reached out to the only person I know of here on Rajah-4 who might have some personal insight into the situation.

Writing to Miss Alice and inviting her to meet me at my house is not something that I did lightly, but my Lord, when I examined the bars of the water gate I became more confused than ever. I had expected to find a gap between the underwater stone threshold and the thick iron bars of the gate large enough for a slender young lad to squeeze under, but Sir Williard, this space was less than a two inches and - for lack of a better explanation - I once again had to face the realization that there is more to this mystery than I had originally thought. Miss Alice's question about whether I had seen the hauntings at the Alterson Cottage that I had so easily dismissed was now worth more careful consideration.

Let me be clear, Sir Williard, I still do not believe that a restless spirit haunts my humble estate, but have by now seen enough wonders on this barely explored planet to discount any avenue of investigation. As a man of science, I'm sure you are familiar with the cephalopods of Earth who can easily fit through apertures this size, could it be that there is some being on this planet that can transform their shape in this manner? I need more information. Unfortunately, the best source of information on the indigenous fauna of the planet is the Library of New Thames with its collection of primary source writings, but after the way I misused poor Miss Monroe, I cannot return there, and so two days ago I wrote to Miss Alice and invited her to visit me and share with me what she knew about the sightings along the River Arjun as they related to her deceased friend Miss Katheryn Alterson. To my delight, a brown-skinned youth with a mop of thick black hair arrived yesterday with a hand-written response from Miss Alice accepting my invitation and set my plans into motion.

Promptly at 10 in the morning I saw my guest pay the driver and climb down from one of the light carriages that can be hired for small trips around town. She was dressed in a bright yellow walking-dress that showed far more of her calves and shoulders than would be acceptable anywhere else in our Great British Empire and carried a parasol as much as a fashion statement to complete the look as for protection from the ruddy sun of the system whose gentle warm rays were one of the factors explaining the unblemished skin of the population. The sudden constriction in my throat and trousers warned me that I was entering a dangerous situation, but having satisfied myself with both Akemi and Hilda within the past twelve ours, I believed that I'd be able to resist the urges that had so tormented me.

Oh, Sir Williard, once again I underestimated my self control and the corrosive nature of this planet's insidious power. Had I realized then, what I now know I would have warned this innocent young gentlewoman away before she could fall from her state of grace. At the time though, I welcomed Miss Alice into my parlor and poured her a cup of tea as she arranged herself on a couch that was positioned to look out over the sloping lawn leading to the river below.

"Thank-you, Dr. Baxter." Her lilting voice was as warm as the words themselves. "I was so pleased to have received your invitation," she took a sip of tea before setting the translucent porcelain china back on its saucer with a slight tremor in her hand. "I had in fact considered visiting you myself at the Clinic, but this is so much more pleasant." I remember sensing that Miss Alice had at least an inkling on the depravities taking place in the offices of Dr. Miller, no doubt rumours were whispered from one girl to another to avoid any interaction with these facilities. For this at least, Sir Williard, I was immensely grateful although as I will relate, it created an awkward situation for me.

"Doctor Baxter," Miss Alice lifted her gaze to meet mine timidly, "May I speak with you privately about a personal matter? It is a thing that, at least in a small way, concerns you too."