The House Of Whoosher... ;-)

[moonglum]

As he stood up, he stopped. “Wait!” The man was facing the bookcase on the far wall. Something caught his eye. Somewhere in the dark recesses of his mind a memory flared briefly, and drew him towards the row of books at eye level. He slowly ran his hand along the row. All the books were level with the edge of the shelf, until he reached the end of the row. The final book stuck out by a fraction. He looked closer, the title on the spine read, 'Codex Sinaiticus'.Then he realised what seemed familiar. The cross and the title were upside down. He had been here before, he knew that now with certainty. Gently, he pushed against the book, there was a faint click and that section of the wall swung inwards revealing the top of a flight of stone steps that spiralled downwards.
Tilly and Bertie had stopped at the door and looked back. “It seems darling, that the young fellow is more familiar with this house than he let's on,” whispered Bertie to his wife.
“You may be correct my love.” Tilly said as she hitched up the side of her dress and, from the folds beneath, produced a Webley 32 revolver from the holster on her thigh. “It seems caution may be the order of the day,” she laughed and headed after the man. On the top step she turned and said. “Come along Bertie. What fun, a secret passage.”

[moonglum]

They made their way down a short flight of stone steps, then through an archway, into what appeared to be a cellar. Although there were no lamps or torches visible, there was light enough to see, coming from somewhere. The trio looked around. It seemed to be coming from the walls themselves. The room was littered with dust-laden wooden crates. A few were open revealing old, chipped or broken earthenware jugs and jars. In one corner sat a stone gargoyle, weather-worn and covered in cobwebs. Behind the grisly figurine and set back in an alcove, an iron-bound, heavy wooden door. There appeared to be no handle or obvious larch with which to open it. The man stepped around the gargoyle and, gently reaching out, he placed his palm against the oaken portal. He remained motionless for some minutes.
“I say, old girl. You don't think he is a bit, well, you know.....” Whispered Bertie as he raised his finger and made a twisting motion by the side of his head.
“Hush, my darling,” Tilly breathed. “Our friend is lost and confused. Hopefully this journey will help restore his memory.”
With a sigh, the man lowered his hand and stepped back from the door. As he did so, he brushed against the stone figure. There was a soft click and the door swung open revealing another flight of steps leading down.
The man stepped forward and, as his foot descended on the first stair, a voice screamed out in his head.
“HELP ME”.

[moonglum]

His head swam and he felt himself falling. “HELP ME!” The voice cried out again in his head, as his body hit soft sand, knocking the air from his lungs. He opened his eyes and saw ghostly visions of women circling around him. Their faces like deathmasks, haunting and taunting him. Their open mouths screaming, silently, pleading for him to hear. He sat up and put his hands out to touch them, but each of them danced just out of reach.
“Who are you?” “Do you know me?” “Who am I?” He cried out.
All at once the figures stopped. They moved apart revealing a woman with long blonde hair framing a faintly elvish face. Eyes of gold fixed his stare, as she smiled and moved slowly towards him.
Her lips moved. She was speaking softly, but he could not make out the words. As she moved closer, he began to hear.....”you....must.....save.....her.”
The visions vanished abruptly and he felt himself being lifted up.
“Are you alright old chap?”
He shook his head. He was standing against the wall at the foot of the stairs. Bertie was holding his arm.
“You fell down the stairs old man. No broken bones I trust!”
As his vision cleared, he looked around. The stairs had ended and opened out onto a large chamber. The chamber was dimly lit and stretched off into the distance. So dim was the light that, the man could not see the other end. As he stepped into the chamber, a faint pattern began to glow on the floor. It meandered and wound its way across the floor, disappearing into the gloom. Eurayle's voice echoed in his mind. ” In one, you will find a pattern on the floor. You must find it and walk along it. You must not deviate and you must not waver”.
The man stepped forward placing both feet upon the start of the pattern. At once, the stairway behind them disappeared, and was replaced with solid wall. Tilly turned and ran her hands over the surface. She turned and said. “It appears the only way is now forward. We cannot turn back.”
She and Bertie went to step forward after the man but found their way blocked by an invisible barrier. She called out, “We cannot follow you. Go.”
With faltering steps, their companion started walking along the glowing line beneath his feet. At each twist and turn he felt an irrisistable urge just to walk straight towards the end of the cavern. He completed what he imagined to be about a quarter of the way when, the visions started.

[moonglum]

The struggle was nearing a climax. Sporadic bright flashes within the blade, were becoming more frequent. So much so, that the sword was losing it's blackness and slowly changing to an azure, the colour of sky. The transformation complete, the sword lifted from the stone pinnacle, described an arc away and into space, then plunged down towards the earth below.

[moonglum]

With the visions came glimpses of a past that, at first, he did not recognise. Then, with each unsure step they began to establish themselves as solid memories. A woman......many women. A boy.....his son. Names fitted easily into place alongside faces, like a mental filing cabinet slowly filling with the information on people, places and events. Many, many lifetimes of happiness, sorrow, truth, lies, justice, injustice, triumph and above all else, guilt. His head swam, his vision blurred and he stumbled. He caught himself in time and continued then, rounding a curve, he saw in front of him, a low pedestal of stone. Strange he had not seen it earlier, he thought. Walking up to it, he found a sword standing upright on it's point. There were no supports, and he could see no reason why it did not topple over. Tentatively he reached out his hand towards it and, as his fingers curled around it's hilt, he felt a shockwave ripple through the cavern. A flash of light passed before his eyes and power surged through his body. He felt his muscles tighten and grow, his back straighten and stiffen. Lifting the blade aloft, a bolt of lightning flashed briefly from the sword and he shouted................JASON KORDE. MY NAME IS JASON KORDE.

The old man stared upwards as he felt the tremor in the ether. “He comes,” he whispered. Looking down he saw she was weakening, the blood running out of her taking with it her life force.

[moonglum]

Tilly and Bertie saw the lightning flash in the dim distance of the cavern and pushed against the invisible barrier. Suddenly the barrier vanished and they fell forwards onto the cavern floor. Picking themselves up they set off to catch up with Jason.
“Look, my love, the pattern has disappeared”, Tilly said as they set off towards their companion.
Bertie kept his eyes fixed ahead as the pair jogged across the rocky plain. He was surprised at the amount of ground they were covering, whilst the far end of the cavern was still not in sight. At last, they saw their companion ahead. He was standing, awaiting their arrival, idly toying with what looked like a sword! His twirling interspersed with parries and thrusts, as if fighting an invisible opponent.
As they approached, he lowered his blade until the point rested on the ground, turned to face them, and smiled. Tilly and her husband stared at the man in front of them. His facial features seemed the same but they could see he had changed. His hair was now blonde and shoulder length. His eyes, whereas before they had seemed to be brown, now hinted at a colour reminiscent of a clear sky on a warm summer day. The man blinked and Tilly thought she detected a brief flash of blackness in those eyes.
Jason bowed to his companions and declared. “My name is Jason Korde, it seems.”
“You appear to have changed, old chap!” Bertie stared at Jason, not sure what to make of all this.
“Only for the better, I hope.” Jason fingered the fabric of his frock-coat. “Not sure I like these clothes though.”
“So, my friends, ready for some fun? Or are you beginning to wish you hadn’t signed on.” Jason laughed and strode off towards the far end of the cavern.

[moonglum]

After some time the trio neared the far end of the cavern, only to be faced with another barrier. The air in front of them vaporized, shimmered and moved. Falling ceaselessly to the floor like a misty waterfall.
“What is this,” Tilly whispered.
Jason touched the sword-tip against the barrier and pushed Soulrazor forward. She slid easily through and, pulling the sword back, he said. “It’s a portal!”
“ A portal, old chap.” Bertie gingerly touched the surface with his hand. “To where?”
“Now that, my friend, is a very good question,” Jason replied.
“Well, faint heart and all that!” With that, the young man stepped forward.
“Wait!” Jason shouted as Bertie disappeared through the mist.
Tilly drew her revolver and, with a sideways look at Jason, went after her husband.
“Damn!” Jason spat as, sword first, he also followed the pair.

[moonglum]

Time seemed to move slowly. Tilly felt as if she were pushing her way through a wall of cotton. The light had faded and all around her was darkness. Suddenly she was through and the sight that met Tilly’s eyes when she emerged on the other side of the portal was, to say the least, a strange one. She was standing in a much smaller cavern. Bertie had his back to her and appeared to be talking to a young nun. Slowly she looked around and saw a stone altar with a woman tied to it.
“What the......”. She blinked and heard Bertie groan. Looking back she saw her husband sink to the floor, blood staining the front of his shirt. The nun laughed and began to slowly walk towards her, a dagger in her hand.
“Bertie!” Tilly's heart sank as she stared at her fallen partner. Then time seemed to speed up again. As the nun lunged at her, Tilly instinctively raised her gun and shot the nun twice in the head.

[moonglum]

Normally he slid through smoothly and easily. This time felt diffrent however. Jason felt as if he were wading through thick mud, each step sinking deeper than the one before. He knew he had taken only a few steps but already it began to feel as if he’d been trudging this way for hours. His heart was pounding, his breathing was becoming laboured and then, something caught his leg and he pitched forward onto a cold stone floor.
Jason opened his eyes and sat up. Slowly he looked around. Bodies, he saw bodies. He rubbed his eyes. They were still there. At his feet lay the body of a young nun, her face obliterated by gunshot wounds. It was obviously her body that tripped him as he emerged from the portal. Turning his head to the right he saw Tilly seated on the floor cradling her husband in her arms. Looking past her, he saw a woman bound to a stone altar.
Jason eased himself to his feet and walked unsteadily towards the altar. It was Aphemenie, and by the look of her, she had been dead for some time. She had been bled. Rivulets of her dried blood still lingered in the channels cut in the stone altar-top. Jason looked at her face, the agony still etched into her features. He reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair from her eyes. As he did so the air beside him moved and Loki, the old man, appeared. Jason stared at him.
“You could have saved her,” he said.
“I could not. I told you before, I cannot interfere.” The old man sighed.
Jason balled his fist, rounded on the god and hissed. “Then what use are you?” With that, he turned and walked over to where Tilly sat sobbing.

[moonglum]

Hours seemed to have passed as the grief went through it’s usual stages. For Tilly at least, denial drained her of her tears. Anger followed, at Bertie for rushing blindly ahead, she had always been the stronger of the two, and she prayed to her god to bring him back, take her instead. She realised at last that those gods who may be listening were, none of them, her god and she knew then that Bertie would never return. She stayed silent for a long time until, finally, she asked. “Did you know her well?”
The pair sat on the floor with their backs against the wall, her head lay against his shoulder. Tilly rummaged and, from somewhere, produced a slim silver case and took out a fat, hand rolled cigarette. She lit it, took a long draw and handed it to Jason.
“Not really. We met and travelled together for a while.” Jason replied. In his heart he knew Aphemenie had cared for him and, in his way, he for her. It wasn’t love, but a strong bond had existed between them. But for him, death was simply a fact of life. He had lived with it so long he no longer grieved as he used to. He took a long pull, held the smoke in for a while as he studied the cigarette. “What is this,” he asked, handing her the joint.
Tilly took the cigarette and replied. “Only the best!” and they both giggled.

[moonglum]

Jason awoke and looked around. He was still sitting against the wall. Tilly, however, was standing by the altar staring down at Aphemenie’s body. Jason got up, stretched and walked over to her. She turned as he put his hand on her shoulder. Looking past him at the body of her dead husband she said. “Shouldn’t we do something with these bodies?”
“Do what?” Jason said softly. “It’s not as if we could bury them. The ground is solid rock!” He looked around the walls, there were no obvious exits. The walls were plain rock all the way around and the portal by which they had entered was gone. “It doesn’t look like we’ll be carrying them out of here either.”
Tilly sighed. “What happens now? How do we get out of here?”
“That, my friend, lies beyond my purview,” Jason replied, in a strange far-off kind of way. He smiled at her and continued, “Don’t worry I’m sure something will turn up, it usually does.”
As if on cue, the ground shook slightly and a section of wall in the corner swung open to reveal an entrance to another chamber.
“What is it?” Tilly breathed, her revolver already in her hand.
Jason eyed the opening and replied. “Either our way out or somebody's way in!”

[moonglum]

Sword in hand, Jason walked slowly towards the opening. Peering around the edge of the stonework, he saw another cavern with, at the far end, an opening leading to a flight of stairs. The cavern was empty. Calling for Tilly to join him, the pair entered and began to walk towards the far opening. They stopped in their tracks and turned as the wall behind closed after them.
“It looks like we are expected,” said Jason.
They continued walking towards the opening. Stopping at the foot of the stairs, Tilly touched his sleeve.
“Where do you think these stairs lead to?”
Jason paused and, laying his hand on hers, replied. “Salvation or damnation, there seems little difference lately!”
Tilly smiled. “Did anyone ever tell you that you can be very cynical at times, Mr. Korde!”
Jason laughed as the pair began their ascent. “Many times.”
It was a short flight of stairs and, at the top, a small landing with a single wooden door. Jason turned the handle and, hand in hand, the pair stepped through into darkness.

[moonglum]

Tilly slowly opened her eyes. It was a struggle, her eyelids felt very heavy. Her whole body felt heavy. She just wanted to sleep. As her eyes closed again she thought she could smell food.
“Matilda!”
The loud voice woke her again. She struggled to open her eyes once more and a giggle escaped her lips. A woman in a white smock was walking along the wall at right angles to the floor. How is she doing that, Tilly thought?
“You silly girl. You’ve done it again. Fallen asleep in your dinner.”
Strong hands lifted her head from the table and sat her back in the chair.
“Let’s get you cleaned up and back to your room. It’s time for your medication!”
“I don’t know! Where are.......am......?” Her speech was slurred and her words muddled. Those hands again, lifting her to her feet. She tried to shrug them off, but her body was weak. Her arms were slow in responding and had no co-ordination. Tilly’s legs buckled and she heard the woman call out for assistance. As they led her from the day-room, she saw a man sitting at a table in the corner. His long blond hair was matted and stuck to his face as he shook his head and mumbled to himself. She reached an arm towards him as she was ushered through the doorway, and whispered. “Bertie!”

[moonglum]

Each day started the same way. She was roughly awakened, given an injection, washed and dressed in clean clothes and taken to the day-room. They served her breakfast, which she ate but couldn’t taste, and then left her. In her drugged state she just sat there, if she tried to stand her legs buckled under her and she fell to the floor. When they noticed her, they picked her up and sat her down again. After a while, she stopped trying to stand and focused her attention on her hands. She picked up a magazine from her table and, with shaking arms, tried to make the words swim into focus. They brought the white-haired man in about the same time every day and each time Tilly stared at him and whispered his name. Then her attention wavered and she went back to her magazine. Each day the same.
Today, however, was different. They woke her up as usual, but before they could administer her medication, a loud commotion outside the room caused the two orderlies to pause and go to the door. As they reached it, the door burst open and knocked the two men backward onto the floor. Tilly blinked as the white-haired man stood in the doorway, arms braced against the wooden framework. “Bertie?” She breathed. The man straightened and walked towards her. Gripping her robe with both hands he screamed, “WHERE IS MY SWORD?”

[moonglum]

Tilly felt the strength in those hands. She felt his breath on her cheek as she turned her face away from his. Then she felt him being pulled off her as the two orderlies grabbed his arms. With one last effort, the wild man pushed her backwards and she cracked her head against the wall behind her. Pain! She rolled sideways on the bed. Her hands clasped the back of her head, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. Pain, that most powerful of motivators. She opened her eyes and lashed out with her foot, catching one orderly behind the knee as they turned their captive away from her. As he went down he pulled the other two with him. The wild man seized his chance and rolled over onto the second orderly. Pinning him to the floor, the wild man pulled the man's hair back then slammed his head to the floor.
The pain in her head was slowly subsiding, her vision clearing, and with that clarity came the dawning that this was wrong. The first orderly had gained his feet and was rounding on the wild man. Tilly’s hand went to her hip but grasped at nothing. Then she saw it. A small metal dish on her side-table, and in that dish her morning meds. She grabbed at the syringe and slowly got to her feet. The orderly had his back to her and as she tottered and finally fell, she plunged the needle into his neck, her thumb pushing the plunger home. She felt the needle snap as she fell past him and hit the floor. Rolling onto her back she felt the need for nothing but sleep and as her eyes closed, she saw the wild man reaching towards her.

[moonglum]

The Duesenberg LaGrande sped through the country lanes and Tilly laughed as the near-side wheels lifted on a tight left-hand bend. It was a glorious, sunny, dreamy English day and the wind whipped the ends of her hair so they tickled her face and neck. She pushed her Foster-Grant sunglasses up above her hairline, catching the wisps of hair and pinning them down. Bertie double declutched and shifted back into third gear, accelerating back up to seventy. Tilly rested her head on Bertie’s shoulder and gently stroked his chest through his shirt. He laughed and put one hand on hers, turned his head to look into her eyes and .....vanished.
Tilly screamed and woke up. She was lying in the back of a van, her head resting in the lap of the wild man with the long blonde hair. Now that the drugs were wearing off, her memory was returning. This wasn’t her Bertie. She realised that now. This was the man from the cavern. She rummaged in her memories and then she knew him. Jason, his name was Jason.
He put a finger to her lips and said, “sshh, we’re breaking out!”

[moonglum]

24 hours earlier.

Jason sat at his usual table in the day-room. His body had been fighting off the effects of his medication for some days now. His metabolism wasn’t the same as others and although the initial administration had an effect on him, his body had slowly built up an immunity. He watched as Tilly was brought in and sat at a table. Jason was careful not to make eye contact with her. She looked in his direction every now and again, an expression of almost recognition on her face. He could not risk her drawing attention to herself and ruining his plans. There was no clock in the room, so he kept a mental record of the comings and goings of the orderlies by counting the seconds under his breath. His table by the window meant that, on cloudless days, he could see the sun. Jason worked out that it took roughly two hours for it to move between two of the trees in the garden. That gave him a rough clock to work with, if only for the mornings. He gave the staff names. Greybeard and Squinty were the heavies. They brought the patients to and from their rooms. Starchy, the matronly figure, with her crisp dark uniform and her stern manner; and Blondie, her assistant.
Jason did not know where he was, how they got here or why, yet! However, he was determined to find out.
Feigning discomfort he stood up slowly, holding his lower stomach and shaking his leg. Squinty walked over, offering his arm.
“Looks like he needs the bathroom, I’ll take him,” he called to his companion as he led Jason towards the door. The pair walked down the corridor and into the bathroom. The orderly steered Jason towards a stall and turned to wash his hands when the door opened and Greybeard poked his head in and said.
“Leave him for a moment, there’s a delivery.”
As soon as the pair left Jason stood up, lowered the lid and climbed up to stand on the toilet. There was a small barred window, high up overlooking the courtyard at the back of the building. Jason looked out and saw a small van pulled up at a loading dock. Same van, same time, he thought. He watched as the driver unloaded linen hampers onto the dock, and saw the two orderlies take them in and return with other hampers which were loaded on the van. Climbing down, he sat back down and mentally walked the path from his room to the loading dock doors. ‘Tomorrow’, he said under his breath.

[moonglum]

The morning came too slowly. The quiet of the night, punctuated only by those unidentifiable night noises, filled Jason’s head and robbed him of sleep. Eventually, he heard the scraping of the key in the lock and the door swung open.
“Wakey Wakey, sleepyhead, another glorious day in paradise. Time for your shot.” Greybeard sounded in fine form this morning, Jason thought as he swung his legs out of the bedclothes and sat up slowly.
“Well, you seem in fine fettle this morning,” said Greybeard as he readied the syringe. “We’ll have to see about increasing your meds,” he continued with a laugh.
Jason mumbled under his breath as he allowed the orderly to inject him. He needed to hurry this along, but not obviously so. The laundry van would be arriving soon. Greybeard took him by the arm and lifted him up from the bed. “Come on then, let’s get you settled in the day-room.” So saying, Greybeard began leading Jason from the room. As they moved slowly down the corridor, Jason started moaning and, holding his stomach, pointed towards the bathroom.
“You should have gone in your room, shouldn’t you?” The orderly laughed and led Jason into the bathroom. Letting him settle in a cubicle, the orderly said, “Now, you wait here my lad while we see to your friend.” Jason slowly nodded as Greybeard left the room. As soon as the door closed, Jason leapt up and rushed to the door. He opened it a fraction and scanned the corridor. At the far end, he saw both orderlies entering Tilly’s room. Making sure no one else was about, he padded quickly up to the doorway. The door was closed. Jason took a deep breath and kicked at the door, then flattened himself against the wall. He watched the handle and as it began to turn, he barged the door open and knocked the two orderlies backwards.

[moonglum]

Jason half carried and half dragged Tilly down the corridors to the loading dock. The van driver was nowhere to be seen so, he placed Tilly behind the hampers and crawled in behind her. He had just got settled when the driver returned and closed the rear doors. Shortly after, the vehicle began to move. The sounds it emitted, an asthmatic series of wheezes as it gathered speed, surprised Jason until he realised what it was. This was a vehicle driven by steam. At that moment Tilly woke up. She opened her mouth and Jason put a finger to her lips and said, “Shh, we’re breaking out!”
“Where are we?” she said dreamily and started to sit up.
“We are in the back of a laundry truck.” He whispered.
“Why.....”
Jason put his arm around her shoulders and said. “Quiet. We need to plan our next move.” He was acutely aware that they needed clothes and some idea of where they were. At that moment the truck stopped abruptly and they were thrown against the bulkhead. They heard shouts from outside and then footsteps circling the vehicle. The rear doors were thrown open and a voice said. “You can both come out now Mr Korde.”
Jason peered over the top of the hampers and saw the imposing figure of a woman standing outside. She was dressed in a WW2 flying jacket, dark brown riding breeches, riding boots and a pale blue blouse with a white silk scarf around her neck. The most imposing part of her ensemble, however, was the Ingram Mac10 machine pistol she was holding. Jason stood up slowly and the woman smiled and said. “Welcome to 1904 Mr Korde, my name is Miss Earhart. We’ve been expecting you.”

[moonglum]

Jason shook his head in disbelief. He and Tilly were seated in the rear seats of what appeared to be a Stanley Steam car, which was travelling at a far greater speed than he would have thought possible.
Steam vehicles! A Mac10! 1904! Miss Earhart!
“Not Amelia Earhart?” He asked.
The woman laughed and leaned back into the red upholstered driver's seat as she steered the car expertly around a series of sharp bends.
“No Jason. Although we have met. My name is Christine Earhart.”
They travelled on in silence for a while. They had left the city behind and were now in open country. The roads were more primitive here, and their speed had slowed accordingly.
Tilly was slowly regaining her faculties, she lifted her head from Jason’s shoulder and asked. “Who are you and how did you know where we were?”
“All in good time Mrs Rockingham. My father will explain when we reach the Tower.”
The rocking of the vehicle had a soporific effect on the pair, and despite the many bumps and ruts in the road, both Tilly and Jason dozed. They awoke when the car came to a halt. Stretching and sitting up, Tilly and Jason saw before them a squat, round building, standing approximately three storeys tall. Miss Earhart sounded the horn and a section of the lower wall slid upwards and she drove the car inside. A woman wearing a white lab-coat approached as she turned off the engine.
“Everything go ok?” she asked.
Miss Earhart stepped out of the car. “Absolutely fine,” she replied and, putting her arms around the woman, kissed her passionately on the lips. Tilly watched the two women with a degree of interest as Jason helped her from the car.
“Is this usual in your circles?” She whispered to him and coughed discreetly.
Miss Earhart turned from her companion and smiled.
“My apologies Mrs Rockingham, this is Miss Doyle. She has recently arrived and we haven’t seen each other in a while.”
Jason looked around. The ground floor area was filled with, what looked like, generators and power banks.
“I don’t suppose you have any spare clothes upstairs?” He asked.
“Yes, of course, how rude of me. You must be cold in those gowns. This way.” So saying Miss Earhart led the pair towards a staircase by the far wall. They climbed up to the next level and found themselves on another open plan floor. This one filled with electronic equipment and computer consoles. Miss Doyle had followed and she walked over to an elderly man seated in a wheelchair at a centre console.
“Did you lock on target?” She asked.
“No,” he replied. “The opening has passed. We will have to wait for the next window.”
Miss Earhart over and, placing a hand on the man’s shoulder, lent over and gave him a kiss on his cheek.
“Father, they are here. I’ll get them some clothes and we will meet you in the lounge.” She returned to Jason and Tilly. “Let us go upstairs.”

[moonglum]

“Welcome to the Tower.”
They sat in soft, comfortable armchairs in the centre of the upper floor. The large circular level had twenty to thirty small rooms set around its outer wall and the central space was given over to a communal seating/dining area. The man in the wheelchair faced them and continued.
“My name is Professor Earhart and you have already met my daughter Christine.”
Jason opened his mouth to speak but Tilly beat him to it. “Who are you and where are we?”
“Where you are, Mrs Rockingham is the Tower. It is a machine we built to traverse time. Unfortunately, it became obvious shortly after our initial test, that it was more than that, much more in fact. We found ourselves divorced, if you will, from what we knew as reality.
“You shifted dimensions?” said Jason.
“Precisely Mr Korde,” the Professor continued. “We first began recording anomalies, movements in the time-flow, using recently discovered instruments first invented in the late nineteenth century by a man named Wells. As you will appreciate, we were very excited by this.”
“You still haven’t told us who you are, or how you knew our names,” Tilly interrupted.
At this point, Miss Earhart joined the conversation.
“We are scientists, observers and explorers. Temporal adventurers, if you like. We eventually discovered that these anomalies were being caused by an individual moving between dimensions. Although we did not realise it at the time, we thought these were just movements in time. We found a way of tracking these movements and ultimately predicting the path of the next movement. We have been following you Mrs Rockingham, and by some discreet detective work, we discovered where you were, or rather, where you were going to be. We arrived here ahead of you and waited. This was our first test of the Tower and things did not go quite according to plan.”
“There have been many theories regarding other dimensions,” the Professor said. “However the one thing that all these theories have in common, is that all the dimensions run parallel with each other and that time is the same in each one. In other words, when it is five o’clock here, it is five o’clock on all the others. How wrong they were!”
Jason looked at him and said, “I have a strange idea I know where this is going!”
The Professor leaned forward in his chair and said. “Yes Mr Korde, you are that individual.”

[moonglum]

Tilly, Miss Earhart, and Miss Doyle sat on the roof gazing up at the night sky. Tilly remembered a night like this before they were married when she and Bertie had spread a blanket in the grounds of her parent's house and lay together looking up at the stars. They had made love for the first time and promised never to leave each other. Tears formed as she realized again that, he had gone forever. She felt a hand on hers and turned to see Miss Doyle smiling at her.
“Are you all right Tilly?”
“Yes, sorry, I .... the stars. I miss him,” she sobbed.
Miss Doyle put an arm around Tilly’s shoulders and hugged her.
“Shh. It’s ok. Memories can be powerful emotional triggers. Was it the loss of a lover?”
Miss Earhart sighed and handed Tilly a handkerchief. “You can be tactless at times, Emily.”
Regaining her composure, Tilly tried again. “It’s quite alright. I was thinking about my husband.”
“You are no longer together?” Christine asked.
“No, he died quite recently.”
Miss Doyle reached across and grasped Miss Earhart's hand and whispered.
“I don’t know what I would do if we ever parted.”
“You would probably find a handsome, strapping young fellow to share your bed,", Miss Earhart laughed and patted Emily’s hand.
“And you can be cruel some times," replied Miss Doyle.
Tilly was confused. “You have been apart though. Christine told us you had recently arrived. Did you use a second machine?”
It was Emily’s turn to laugh. “No, I have been on a quest here in 1904. I have been trying to locate Mr. Wells.”
Realization dawned then. “Do you mean HG Wells?” Tilly asked.
“Yes.” Replied Emily. “Do you know him?”
“I have heard the name. I believe he is an author, a writer of fiction.”
“He is still alive then, in your time?”
Tilly thought for a moment before answering. “Yes, I believe he is. He lives in Bromley I think, in Kent.”
Both Miss Doyle and Miss Earhart looked at each other for a few seconds before Christine asked.
“Tilly, what year are you from?”

[moonglum]

“Not different dimensions then, more like different or altered realities.” The professor sat with steepled fingers pressed against his chin, deep in thought. “Although they may possibly be the same thing!”
The ladies had joined Jason and the Professor in the lounge below.
Emily nodded in agreement. “It would support several theories,” she replied. “Tilly said that she and her husband were from 1932 and that Mr.Wells was alive in her timeframe. In our timeline, we know that Wells died during the Great War in 1918, whilst working for the military. Here in this timeline, it would appear that Wells disappeared shortly after publishing his journal in 1895.”
She turned to Tilly and said. “I have been to Bromley. I have seen his house, it is boarded up and in a poor state of repair. According to neighbors, a bright light erupted from his workshop about ten years ago and Mr. Wells was never heard from again. A friend had the house boarded up and his possessions put into storage.”
Tilly laughed out loud. “This is ludicrous,” she exclaimed. “HG Wells was an author. He published a work of science fiction in the 1890’s called The Time Machine, at the end of which the hero uses his machine to return to the future, to be with his love and, is never heard from again. This must all be a delusion. I must be dreaming.”
Emily placed a hand on Tilly’s arm. “I can assure you this is very real,” she said.
Christine Earhart was feeling restless. Science was never her thing and talking about science, even less so.
“Mr. Korde, would you like to take a stroll and leave these academics to their deliberations?”
Jason was relieved at the offer. If truth be known, he was feeling rather like the proverbial fifth wheel.
“I thought you’d never ask.” He smiled.
As the pair left both Emily and Tilly watched with a tinge of jealousy in their minds and eyes.

[moonglum]

“An I’m telling you, it weren’t there when we left!”
Bradminster was a small village out in the Essex marshes and Constable Brian Westwood it’s only policeman. The village consisted of a handful of shops, a small school, a pub, a church and twenty to thirty cottages. The majority of the population were farmworkers and their families. They were sitting in the office of the police house and Constable Westwood sighed. Tom Clifford was an old friend, indeed the two men had grown up and gone to the village school together. Tom was not usually one for stories, but he did drink some. Then again, most of the men frequented the pub as there was little else to do in a small village such as this.
“Are you sure, Tom?”
“Course’ I’m sure. I can see the bloody thing from my bedroom window. We’ve only been gone a month, visiting my sister down in Cornwell, and it weren’t there when we left.” Tom repeated.
“But Tom, if it’s as big as you say it is!”
“It’s huge I tell you. Must be three cottages high. How they built it in a month, Brian beats me.”
Constable Westwood sighed again. “Alright Tom, leave it with me. I’ll make some inquiries.”

[moonglum]

The tide was receding from the Essex coastline and the smell of ozone, from the exposed kelp, permeated the dawn air. Nature began to awaken and embrace the rising sun. Seabirds were circling over the marshland, squawking for their breakfast, as Jason and Christine walked along the raised earthworks that formed the defenses against the high spring tides. After a short while, they sat down on the grassy bank and watched for a moment as two seals cavorted in the waters a short distance from the shore.
Jason broke the silence between them. “You mentioned earlier that there was a problem in your arrival here.”
Christine Earhart put an arm around his waist, rested her head on his shoulder and, in a soft purring voice said. “Do we have to talk about that. It’s such a lovely morning and we know very little about each other. Wouldn’t you like to find out what makes me tick?”
Jason smiled. “I thought Miss Doyle....”
“Oh, my darling Emily is a wonderful person and a lovely diversion. However, she can be a trifle serious and sometimes the heart wants what the body needs.” She raised her eyes to his. “Don’t you agree?”
“That depends very much on the availability of those needs!” With one hand, Jason lifted her chin and leaned towards her waiting lips. At the last moment, Christine pushed him onto his back and swung her leg over his. Straddling his thighs, she pushed her hand down between his legs.
“I prefer to be on top,” she said and lowered her head down towards Jason’s lips.

[moonglum]

1904 was a time of change in any reality. Technology was ploughing vast furrows through the working lives of most people, not least the police forces of the country.
Constable Westwood read the instructions yet again. He had thought the police paperwork was bad enough, but this new-fangled contraption, this ‘telephone’, was driving him to distraction. It had only been installed a month and already it had frightened him half to death. Bells ringing at all hours of the night, and then muffled voices that he could barely make out, asking him what he was doing and was everything alright out there in ‘the sticks’. He was sure they were just taking the mickey out of him over there in Melden. Melden was the nearest town of any size and had a proper police station with an inspector, a Sergeant, and six constables. Brian Westwood shrugged off his daydream and returned to the paper in his hands. He had never actually made a call with the ‘contraption’ yet, just answered it when it rang. Along with the telephone, there was a wooden box affair with a row of holes in. Two electrical plugs were in the first two holes, one connected to his telephone and the other to the only other telephone in the village, at the rectory. The instructions said he shouldn’t touch these, but leave them plugged in. Ok, he thought, step 2. Lift the handset and turn the handle at the side of the box. He did this and waited.
“May I help you, caller?” The voice made Brian jump.
“Er, yes, hello. This is Constable Westwood in Bradminster calling. Could you connect me with the police station in Melden please.”
“Certainly, one moment. Please hold the line caller.”
Brian instinctively grasped the cord from the handset and stood there holding it.
After a few moments, there was a series of clicks and a gruff welsh voice said.
“Melden police. Sergeant Jones speaking.”
“Hello sarge. It’s Westwood here from Bradminster.”
Sergeant Edwin Jones was a jolly, slightly rotund, Welshman who had a soft spot for young Westwood. He was a firm, but a fair superior officer who looked out for his men. However, if he had known that one or two of his constables had been calling Brian in the middle of the night to wind him up, he would have strung them up by their toes.
“Hello, boyo. How’s life out in the sticks? Still terrorising the local virgins?”
His laughter echoed down the line and Brian instinctively laughed along with him.
“Not many of those out this way sarge.”
“What can I do for you boy.” Sargeant Jones smiled to himself as he thought the lad had probably run out of pencils or was calling with some other trivial request.
“Well, I don’t quite know what to make of it sarge. Tom Clifford came to see me earlier on. He has just returned from being away for a month. Been to see his sister in Cornwell.”
“Get to the point boy, I got things to do.”
“Yes, sorry sarge. Anyway, he says there is a huge building appeared out on the marshes and I was wondering if the RFC had started work on that proposed airfield yet?”
Due to mounting tensions across Europe, the government had given the go-ahead for the military to strengthen its defenses of the country. It was common knowledge that the Royal Flying Corps had been given permission to build an airfield out in the Essex Marshes, it being an ideal first-line of defence against a possible enemy invasion.
“I don’t think so, Brian. Anyway, you’d probably know that before us. They’d have to come through Bradminster to get out there. Wouldn’t they?”
“Well I did think that sarge, but I’ve seen or heard nothing. I was wondering, being the military and all, whether something like that would be hush-hush, you know?”
The sergeant was silent for a moment.
“I still can’t see how they could have done something like that without you seeing something. I mean, trucks and workers. The pub would have been standing room only virtually every night. Brian, have you been out there to see for yourself? Make sure Tom’s not seeing pink elephants”
“No, not yet sarge. I wanted to check with you first.”
“Well check it out, boy. Then call me back. I’ll make some enquiries this end.”
“Thanks sarge, bye.”
Brian Westwood replaced the handset and sighed. He was not looking forward to cycling all that way.

[moonglum]

Tilly lay on her bed, fully clothed, and struggled to find sleep. The Professor, Emily and herself had talked until daybreak and, although she had not understood half of their discussion, she was not stupid. It was apparent that this vast machine of theirs was having problems returning them home. They could not return from whence they came, was the phrase the Professor had used. Emily explained there may yet be a chance. They were waiting for a ‘window of opportunity’ to arrive. The conversation turned to herself and Jason. She had asked if they knew how Jason and herself came to be incarcerated in that asylum. The Professor had explained that Christine had posed as a temporary nurse, and learned that Jason and herself appeared one morning in Melden’s town square. They were both ‘raving mad’, as the authorities put it. Incarceration was deemed best for their own safety.

In the next room, Emily lay on her bed staring up at the ceiling. Her right hand absently stroked the cold, empty side of the bed where her lover, her Christine, should be. She was not strong like either Christine or this new woman. She had achieved firsts, with honours, at Cambridge and was accepted as one of the worlds noted authorities in her field. In short, there was not a lot that Doctor Emily Doyle did not know about quantum mechanics and nuclear physics. She was, however, lacking in confidence. She was intimidated by an academic world dominated by men. She felt a continual need to prove herself and that need, coupled with her overwhelming desire for the love of another woman, made her a very dangerous person. She knew what Christine would be doing with that man. Christine’s bisexuality offended Emily and tears ran down her cheeks. Looking at her hand, she realised she had grasped the cold sheet so tightly that her hand ached. It was then that she vowed to end this madness.

[moonglum]

Constable Brian Westwood was puffing hard. His cheeks were red and the saddle on his old ‘boneshaker’ was playing havoc with his backside. He had ridden for about an hour so far and was just approaching Tom Clifford’s farmhouse. From there, he would have to travel the rest of the way on foot. Tom met him at the door and the pair climbed the stairs to get a better view over the fields and onto the marshes. Tom handed Brian a pair of binoculars and, sure enough, way out there by the seawall, Brian saw a large round building. He estimated it as being about sixty feet in diameter, and possibly, a hundred to a hundred and twenty feet high.
“Seen anyone about Tom,” Brian asked.
“No, but I haven't been watching all the time.”
“Well, I’d best get over there to check it out. I’ll leave the bike here and walk.”
Tom shook his head. “You’ll be better off carrying on down the road. There’s a lane leading to the old chapel and a track off that. Runs right along behind the seawall, it does.”
The pair had come back down to the yard and Constable Westwood retrieved his bicycle.
“Right, I’ll stop by on my way back Tom,” and with a wave of his hand he cycled off down the road.
After a short ride, Brian turned off the road into the lane leading down to the old chapel. St Cedds chapel was built in the seventh century and although abandoned now, is one of the oldest churches in the country. The ride to the chapel seemed to take forever but, at last, Brian reached the track which ran along behind the seawall. The gate stood open and looking at the ground, Brian could see that vehicles had used the track recently. So, leaving his bicycle behind the gate, he began to walk along the track towards the building in the distance.

[moonglum]

Raised voices brought Tilly back to consciousness. She must have fallen asleep, she thought as she stretched, then swung her legs off the edge of the bed. Rubbing sleep from her eyes, she stood up and went in search of the bathroom. Outside her room chaos ensued. Two technicians were tending to the Professor, whilst another was shouting from inside one of the rooms.
“.......and a Mac10!”
Tilly approached the Professor. “What is going on?” She asked.
One of the technicians was holding a cotton pad to the Professors temple.
“It’s Doctor Doyle,” he said. “She has gone mad. She hit the Professor and took his keys. Now, it seems, she has taken weapons from the armory and gone downstairs.”
The Professor raised his head and looked at Tilly. “She appears to have had a psychotic episode, she has a history of mental illness. Stay here Mrs. Rockingham, until we can subdue her.”
At that moment they heard a woman shout and a shot rang out. Tilly walked over to the armory, pushed the technician aside and grabbed a revolver from the wall.
“Sorry Professor, I don’t play hide and seek.” She said as she walked towards the stairs.

[moonglum]

Christine walked back along the seawall. She was always hungry after sex, and now she needed food. She had left Jason asleep on the seawall, snoring as only a man does, after indulging himself between the sheets. As she rounded the building, a strange sight met her eyes. A police constable was stooped over, hands on his knees, puffing and panting for breath.
“Hello. Are you alright,” she asked, walking over to the man.
“Hello miss,” he wheezed. “Just out of breath, is all. Not as fit as I thought I was.”
“You poor man. Let us get you inside and find you a drink of water.” Christine put her arm around Brian’s waist and he, in turn, put an arm around her shoulders.
“Thank you, miss.” He replied as she led him towards the Tower.
At that moment Emily emerged from the doorway and walked towards the pair.
“You are doing it again Christine. With another one this time.” She mumbled and raised the weapon from her side. Christine Earhart looked at the Mac10 and shouted, “Emily no!”

Jason awoke alone. He looked around for Christine and realised she must have returned to the Tower. Stretching, he got up, adjusted his clothes and set off along the seawall. That is when he heard the shots. The staccato burst of a machine pistol sent him running towards the Tower. As he rounded the building he stopped dead in his tracks. Emily Doyle stood with her back to him. Further on, a man in a police uniform lay on his back and, next to him, Christine lay on her side. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the barrel of a pistol emerge out of the doorway with Tilly behind it.
“Emily!”
She turned towards him and fired. The force of the bullet slamming into him threw him onto his back and, as unconsciousness claimed him, he heard another shot.