The House Of Whoosher... ;-)

[moonglum]

He awoke slowly. The fogginess of his vision blurred lazily into focus. He was standing, looking down at clouds. He knew where he was. On that pinnacle of rock, in limbo, somewhere between dreams and wakefulness. He was standing by a stone font filled with water. As he looked into its clear depths, he saw an image of a man he remembered. The long white hair framed the lean, oval face. The once blue eyes flashed between jet black and gold. The lips, in the image, were moving but no sound escaped the waters. He was looking at his former self from a long time ago, a time he had all but forgotten. Memories came flooding back, memories he had long suppressed. His eyes began to mist up and he became aware that he was not alone. He turned around and his heart stopped.
“Hello, my love.”
Those three words felt like a dagger being slowly pushed through his heart. He had known and been with many women in his life, but now he was looking into the eyes of the only woman he had ever truly loved.

[moonglum]

“This complicates things. I’ll have to report this sir!”
The two men were crouched behind bushes, back along the seawall by the chapel. The second man sighed.
“Yes, detective. I expect you will.” With that, the two men walked back to their car and drove off. On the way back to Melden the second man stared out of the car window, deep in thought. This did indeed complicate matters. If the readings on his instruments were correct, then this group of people had succeeded in doing what he, HG Wells, had long been working towards.

[moonglum]

“His injury is not life-threatening, however, he refuses to wake up. The anesthetic should have worn off by now.” One of the white-coated men was the medic of the group. “The bullet went through, missing vital organs and exited at the back. He was very lucky.”
The Professor held one hand to his bandaged head; the blow delivered by Miss Doyle had left him with a mild concussion. “I’ll let the others know.” He turned his chair to go.
“There is one thing.” The medic said. “He was crying in his sleep a little while ago!”
The Professor half-turned back towards the man. “Is that possible, without waking oneself up?”
The medic shrugged his shoulders. “Apparently so. I thought he was awake but I could not rouse him.”
The Professor looked at the other beds, containing the two dead bodies and his heart sank. The death of the police constable would cause problems. There were still five days until the next available ‘window’, and the young man would inevitably be missed before then. Likewise, the death of Emily Doyle would cause problems. Her knowledge of the workings of the Tower would be sorely missed. His one consolation was that his daughter Christine had survived with only a graze to her temple. He turned back towards the door and left the room.

[moonglum]

Later that evening, Herbert George Wells sat in his room at the Red Stag Hotel in Melden. He absently tapped the ash from his cigar and continued to stare at the painting on the opposite wall. The room was lavishly decorated with a burgundy flock wallpaper and velvet curtains. The fire in the hearth emitted an eerie glow which reflected off the varnished oak beams and polished furniture. A knock on the door interrupted his reverie.
“Enter,” he called out.
Detective Sergeant Donald Rogers entered the room and took a seat opposite Wells. From that moment, nine years ago, when the government had persuaded him he needed to put his old life behind him, Wells had had a succession of bodyguards. The latest, now sat before him bearing news.
“Well Donald, what did he say?”
The detective had been to the new telephone exchange. He wasn’t about to let anyone listen in on his call to headquarters in the capital.
“He is not best pleased with either of us,” said the sergeant.
“Oh no. I am the scientific observer in all this. You are the law officer!” Wells laughed.
“Well, anyway, Sir Oswald is coming here tomorrow.”
Sir Oswald Steveson, head of the Department for Homeland Defence, wanted to visit the scene of the crime.
“Ah,” replied Wells.

[moonglum]

Tilly sat on the edge of her bed, struggling with her emotions. Before the incident in the cavern, she had never shot anyone, let alone killed them. Now she had taken another life. True, she and her late husband had indulged in some amateur sleuthing but that was play-acting, mind games to alleviate boredom. The police took a dim view regarding armchair detectives, nonetheless, it had just been fun. She was an expert shot and that allowed her to warn, rather than maim, the petty criminals they had pursued. Now the fun paled into insignificance as the truth of her actions began to sink in. She felt justified in her actions against the nun. The woman was about to attack her, after killing her husband. Tilly hadn’t thought twice, she instinctively defended herself. Today was different, however. On emerging from the doorway, Tilly had seen the bodies of Christine and the policeman. She heard Jason shout. She saw Emily turn with her back to her and shoot Jason. Tilly didn’t call for Emily’s attention, didn’t tell her to drop her weapon, she calmly raised her weapon and shot Emily Doyle in the head. After Emily fell to the ground and as people brushed past her to attend to the fallen, Tilly quietly turned, walked back to her room and locked the door. She had no idea if the fallen were alive or dead.
It was murder. She convinced herself of that. Emily had not seen her and therefore had no chance to defend herself. “It was murder,” she whispered.

[moonglum]

She stood before him. The woman who had forsaken imortality, become human, to be with him. The woman he had watched die in his arms. He still felt the heat of the funeral pyre in his hands. Letitia, Queen of Swords, his love. He reached forward to hold her again, but there was nothing solid there, just an image.
“You have changed my love.”
“You haven’t!” He replied, as tears misted his eyes.
“I have brought someone with me. Your son has a message for you.”
“Oh no, please. Don’t do this to me. Why are you doing this?”
A young boy appeared at her side. Taiman, his son, whom he had slain by accident so long ago. The memory of that day burned him more than the pyre. Jason sank to his knees whispering, “forgive me.”
Taiman reached out and placed a hand on Jason’s cheek and he felt the softness and warmth of his son’s flesh. He heard his son say “There is a storm coming. This house will fall,” and in an instant, they were gone. Only the faint echo of his son’s voice saying, “I love you”, remained. Jason’s hand was left in midair, reaching out to touch his son’s face, their fading images branded onto his mind, forever. Then he fell, passing through rock and clouds, he saw the earth rushing up to meet him, and something else. Soulrazor was floating in the air below him. Waiting for him to hold her again. Wanting him to hold her again. She was fed and yet still hungry for more. He reached out his hand and she tumbled gently into his grip, a faint hum of pleasure tingled his arm, like stroking a contented cat.
He landed gently, feet apart, on the driveway in front of the House. He was home.

[moonglum]

The next morning Christine awoke early. She had slept fitfully. Her head throbbed and no matter which way she turned, she could feel strands of her hair being tugged by the sticking plaster on the side of her head. She had finally cried herself to sleep thinking of Emily. Despite her bisexuality, she had loved her passionately. There was a time when Emily would have thought nothing of Christine’s occasional dalliances with men. Emily’s mood swings of late though, fuelled by her jealousy, had made her impossible at times. Just lately though, Christine had begun to feel claustrophobic in her arms. She sighed and sat up. The pounding in her head increased and she almost lay down again. No, she needed to find solace in the arms of the man she held yesterday. Then she remembered, he had been shot. She forced herself to get up and dress, then went in search of news.
Christine stood in the infirmary looking down at Jason’s body.
“Is he ....” She left the sentence unfinished.
The medic smiled. “No, he is just sedated. He has not woken up though. It’s like he is in a coma. Keeps mumbling every now and then and his right hand is clenched as if he is holding onto something.”
Christine reached down and gripped his left hand in hers. Jason’s eyes opened wide and he shouted.
“Forgive me!” His eyes closed again and he resumed his coma-like state.

[moonglum]

Like Tilly, Christine had spent the night quietly grieving over her loss. Now, the thought that Jason may also die, stirred the emotions that had been festering inside her.
The pounding on the door broke Tilly’s slumber and she reluctantly sat up. Her head ached, not from any injury, but from the continual agonising over her actions the day before. The guilt was bile she could almost taste.
“What. Who is it?”
“Open the door!” Christine’s voice sounded strained.
“Go away.” Mumbled Tilly.
The pounding resumed. “Open this door. You will answer to me. Why did you kill her?”
Tilly sighed. She knew she would have to face Christine sooner or later, but not yet. “Go away!” She almost shouted. The hammering on the door stopped but continued in her head. She lay her head back down and the door crashed open. A disheveled and somewhat deranged Christine stood framed in the doorway.
“You will answer me,” Christine screamed.
Tilly groaned. “No, I won’t. Please, not now.”
Christine entered the room and stood at one side of the table, her hands shaking.
“Why?”
Tilly remained lying on her bed and made no attempt to rise.
“Do you know where you are Christine?”
Christine was confused. “What has that got to do ....”
“I don’t.” Tilly sighed. “It was supposed to be a fun weekend. I saw my husband murdered in front of me. It was 1932, now it is 1904. I am in a time machine with people who are searching for a writer of fiction. I spent, who knows how long, in a drugged stupor. No Christine, I cannot tell you why, because this is all a dream and I just wanted it to stop.” Tilly rolled onto her side and sobbed.
The anger that Christine felt earlier, subsided. She walked across the room and sat on the edge of the bed. Placing a hand on Tilly’s shoulder, she whispered. “It’s alright. It’ll be alright.”

[moonglum]

Sir Oswald Steveson sat in the hotel lounge. Opposite him, Wells fiddled with a sheaf of papers.
“Trouble seems to follow you, Wells. Time travelers, two lunatics escaping from the asylum and now four people shot, including a police officer. Were the emergency services called, do we know if anyone died?”
“No.” Wells fidgeted, clearly embarrassed. “No, we beat a retreat when the shooting started.”
Sir Oswald thought for a moment. “You are quite sure these people are from the future?”
“Well, not positive, you understand. However, since we are the only people investigating time travel, as far as we know, it seems unlikely they are from the past.”
Sir Oswald returned to his thoughts. After a few moments, he appeared to have reached a decision.
“Very well then. I suggest we visit these travelers and find out what they are doing here. I’ll arrange for the army to join us, along with a medical team.” With that, he stood and went in search of a telephone.
Wells breathed a sigh of relief and reached in his pocket for his cigar case. He felt intimidated by the man who held the defense of the realm in his hands. Politicians, even Presidents, deferred to the power this man commanded. He was not a man who suffered fools gladly.

[moonglum]

Professor Earhart and two technicians sat at the table and looked at the pile of papers in front of them.
“We owe a debt of gratitude to Miss Doyle for liberating these from Mr. Wells storage facility in Bromley.” He said.
“Do you think they will help us return home?” Asked one of the men.
The Professor sighed. “In truth, I don’t know. I have looked at them briefly and have noticed one or two problems in equating Wells notes with our own knowledge of physics.”
Four days. That was how long they had until the next window of opportunity. Four days until the heavens went mad. Four days until a second moon appeared and eclipsed the first. The Professor knew, however, that they would likely have visitors before then.

[moonglum]

He ascended the short flight of steps and reached forward to grasp the doorknob. His hand passed through the solid surface as if it were a mirage. He stepped back, momentarily surprised. The ground felt solid enough beneath his feet but, on closer inspection, the building seemed hazy and indistinct. Turning, he looked out over the farmlands and villages in the valleys below. His family home was built on a hilltop overlooking his family's domain. Turning back, he stepped through the solid door, into the Longhall. Noises assaulted his ears. Laughter, merriment, a feast. His whole family was seated at the top table with friends and retainers seated below them at the long table that reached nearly to the door. Looking at his family, he saw his father and mother along with his brothers and sisters, and there at the end, the solitary empty chair where he should have been.
“Do you recognise it?”
Jason turned and saw the old man standing next to him.
“It was my younger sister’s nameday. It was....” His voice faltered. The doors crashed open behind him and hordes of Gothmiri marched in. Jason drew Soulrazor and swung at the demons. His sword passed harmlessly through their bodies. He turned, pleadingly, to the old man.
“No, stop this. You can’t.... please.”

[moonglum]

“Is he dying?”
Tilly and Christine stood either side of Jason’s bed and looked at his still body. His chest moved up and down slightly indicating his shallow breathing.
“I don’t know”, Christine replied. “The medic said he did not think his condition was life-threatening but he appears to be in some sort of coma. He has not responded to any stimuli.

Jason stood helplessly and watched as his family and friends were herded out of the hall and into the square. He screamed and shouted as they were butchered one after the other.
“Why ..........Why are you doing this?” He yelled at the old man.
“Unless we confront our past, how then can we hope to shape our future?”
Jason turned his back on the scene and stared back through the open doors of the hall, stared back at the empty chair at the end of the table, and realization hit him. The place setting wasn’t for him! He counted the chairs. Turning again, he scanned the bodies on the ground. Brand was missing. His brother should have been there.
As if on cue, four horsemen rode into the square. His brother reined in his horse and dismounted. He looked ashen as he whirled around witnessing the carnage. The leader of the Gothmiri dismounted and walked over to Brand who recovered his wits.
“You said you would spare them for ransom!”
The leader pulled a knife from his belt and stabbed Jason’s brother in the heart. As his brother fell to the floor the leader smiled and said. “I lied”.

[moonglum]

The old man placed a hand on Jason’s shoulder.
“You blamed yourself all those years.”
Jason shook the hand away. “I should have been there!”
“And what use would you have been? You were little more than a court flunkey a factotum, then. Certainly not the man you are today. They needed someone they could mold, someone they could shape, and your self-pity gave them what they wanted.”
Jason raised Soulrazor to strike, and the scene around him dissolved away. Blackness, then light, and he was once more standing on the pinnacle, the old man at his side. Jason’s anger subsided and he looked into the old man’s face.
“Why use my son and Letitia like that?”
The old man raised a hand in defense. “That was not my doing. They toy with you yet again my son.”
“Who are you really?” Jason asked.
“I told you once before. I am Loki. A minor god who did some bad things. My punishment, if you will, is to be your guide, your conscience.”
Jason laughed. “Then I guess we are both being punished.” He was thoughtfully silent for a while, then. “I still should have been there.”
“You were not to blame. Your brother betrayed your family, not you.”
Jason sighed. “Why am I here now?”
“It seems you and your friend have become, hmm how can I put this,” the old man thought for a moment, “misplaced in the grand scheme of things.”
Jason smiled. “Oh, so there is a scheme, a grand plan, is there?”
The old man grinned. “Well, sort of, maybe! What I cannot explain, however, is the difference in the time periods. The gods were only interested in making you suffer. It mattered naught to them when or where. No, it would seem that someone else has been manipulating time, as it were.”
Jason was silent for a moment, before asking. “Is there a way back?”
“To your reality? I don’t know.”

[moonglum]

The convoy left Melden at sunrise and, after leaving the town, wound its way through the countryside towards Bradminster. The patchy early morning mist gave the dawn air an eerie feel, as the sun slowly began to melt it away. On arrival at the village, the convoy stopped briefly to allow Sargeant Jones to alight and man the police house. The vehicles then moved on, through the country lanes and out onto the marshes. Their progress was hampered every now and then by the presence of the odd farm cart carrying the workers out to the fields. Although it was formerly all marshland, the tidal defenses had allowed some of the land to drain naturally and, over time, return to arable farmland. After a while, the fields gave way to the unclaimed marshland and the convoy proceeded towards their final destination. The three army trucks led by a staff car finally halted at the lane leading to the chapel. Armed soldiers alighted from two of the vehicles and began to fan out across the marsh. After conferring briefly with their commanding officer, Sir Oswald and Wells, accompanied by Sergeant Rogers, set off along the track towards the Tower.

“Professor, we have company!” One of the technicians had been posted as a lookout and had seen the arrival of the army. “Three of them are approaching the Tower on foot.”
The Professor sighed. “It was to be expected,” he said, wheeling his chair towards the door. He forestalled the man’s next question. “No arms. There has been enough shooting.”
Christine and Tilly met them at the main door, his daughters Mach10 slung on her shoulder. “I hear we have visitors!”
The Professor eyed the weapon with some disdain. “I would prefer you left that here, my dear.”
Christine bristled. “The army is outside. I have been shot once this week, I don’t intend there to be a second time.”
The Professor shook his head, he knew it would be folly to argue with his daughter. She was headstrong, but not unnecessarily reckless. He wheeled his chair through the doorway followed by the two women and prepared himself to meet the delegation.

[moonglum]

Professor Earhart sat in his wheelchair outside the doorway to the Tower and watched the three men approach. His daughter and Tilly stood either side of him and waited. Christine’s index finger gently stroked the trigger guard of her weapon. Sir Oswald’s party stopped a short distance from the Professor.
“I would be grateful sir if we could conduct our business without the threat of firearms.” Sir Oswald's voice carried its usual authoritative tone.
The Professor nodded and turned his head towards his daughter. “I would appreciate it, my dear, if you would return your weapon to the armoury.” Muttering a curse, Christine turned and returned inside. Turning back to Sir Oswald, he continued. “I assume sir, that the same courtesy might be extended by your soldiers.”
Sir Oswald smiled. “Stand down men,” he bellowed. “Now sir, to whom might I be addressing?”
The Professor smiled. “My name is Professor Earhart and my friend here is Lady Matilda Rockingham.” He paused before continuing. “Gentlemen, might I suggest we continue our business in more comfortable surroundings.” He levelled his gaze at Mr Wells, “I am sure you wish to see inside!”

Christine muttered to herself as she closed the armoury door. She turned and headed back towards the stairs. As she passed the infirmary, the door opened and one of the medics emerged. “How is he?” She asked.
“Much the same,” the man replied. She was about to continue when, for some strange reason, she had a compelling urge to enter the infirmary. Closing the door behind her, she walked over and sat by Jason’s bedside. She looked at his face, then his chest, hardly moving with his shallow breathing. She thought about their time together on the seawall and reached her hand towards his. It was then she noticed he still had his fingers curled as if holding something tightly.
“He seems to be missing something, doesn’t he?”
The voice made her jump. She looked up and saw an old man, dressed in a long white robe, sitting in the corner. She was sure the room was unoccupied when she entered.
“Who are you? How did you get in here?” She stammered.
Ignoring her questions, the old man stood and walked over to the bed. “I need you to do something for him.”
Christine was bemused. Who was this person? She had never seen him before. How did he slip past everyone and get in here, and why did the medic not mention him?
The old man smiled. “It is puzzling isn’t it, but I repeat, I need you to do something for him.”
“Oh, and what would that be? Just who are you anyway?” Christine was regaining her wits.
The old man sighed. “Who I am is not important. What you do for him is. You must reunite him with his sword.”
Her wits ebbed away again. “What! What sword? What are you babbling on about?”
The old man levelled a stern gaze at her and replied. “I do not have enough time to satisfy your childish questions. Find his sword.”
Christine returned his stare. “There are no swords here, old man. I would not know where to look for one either.”
“Ask his companion.” The old man snapped and abruptly vanished.

[moonglum]

Christine sat by Jason's bedside in a daze. She lifted a hand to her bandaged head and wondered if she was still concussed. She shook her head. No, it seemed too real, she thought. Her head was aching as she rose and went to one of the cabinets to find some aspirin. Just then the door opened and three soldiers entered the room. “Can I help you?” She asked.
One soldier, bearing the stripes of sergeant on his shoulder, replied. “S’alright miss, we’ve orders to remove the bodies and take the patient to the hospital.”
Christine moved back to Jason and said. “Is that really necessary? I mean, we can care for him here.”
“Sorry Miss, it’s orders.” The sergeant said and turned to supervise his men remove the constable's body.

“This really will not do, you know!” Sir Oswald and the others were seated in the lounge area. “These deaths should have been reported yesterday, and your injured friend, surely he required hospitalization?”
The Professor nodded. “I apologize, sir. I take full responsibility. We were rather shocked by the turn of events and unsure as to the procedures involved. I intended to send one of my colleagues to the nearest town this very morning. Unfortunately, events seem to have pre-empted us.”
Mr. Wells sat in his chair and, up until now had remained quiet. On their journey up through the Tower, he had marveled at the equipment on the lower levels. The computer screens in the control room had fascinated him in particular. They brought to mind some experiments he had read about concerning a Russian scientist by the name of Perskyi carried out a few years earlier. “Could you not simply have returned to your own time and left us to be none the wiser?” He asked.
The Professor sighed. “Unfortunately we have a problem. Our equipment appears to be malfunctioning. It would seem that our interpretation of the laws of physics are somewhat at odds with your own.”
Mr. Wells laughed. “Surely that’s impossible. The laws of physics remain constant throughout the universe, do they not?”
“Until now, I would have believed so. However, and here I must apologize to you sir, we have taken the liberty of studying your own notes on the subject and our suspicions are confirmed.”
Wells was stunned. “My notes?” He said.
Professor Earhart smiled. “Indeed sir, we have them here, liberated from your house in Bromley.”
Sir Oswald erupted. “This is intolerable. First murder and now theft. This won’t do at all!”
“Do be quiet! This is important,” Wells snapped. Turning back to the Professor, he continued. “Am I correct in assuming that you are suggesting the possibility of an alternate reality Professor?”

[moonglum]

Christine hovered just inside the doorway to the lounge. The menfolk were in heated discussion and Tilly sat, hands in her lap and listened with polite detachment, not really sure what she was doing there in the first place. She felt Christine’s eyes watching her and looked up. The slight inclination of the woman’s head towards the open door followed by her exit prompted Tilly to rise.
“If you would excuse me, gentlemen.”
Sir Oswald and Mr.Wells rose and nodded to her, then sat back down to resume their talks.
Outside, Christine beckoned her to follow. The pair descended to the infirmary and, after closing the door behind them, Christine whispered. “What happened to Jason’s sword?”
“Sword!” Tilly stared at her companion for a moment, deep in thought. “Yes, I had forgotten, he did have a sword. When we were in the caverns. He was holding it as we climbed a stairway and then ........... I woke in the asylum. I don’t recall what became of the sword. Why do you ask?”
Christine was about to answer when the door opened and the soldiers returned to remove Emily’s body. The pair remained silent as they watched the men complete their task.
“A strange thing happened,” Christine continued as the door closed. “ An apparition, a ghost, appeared in here and told me I must find this sword.”
Tilly looked at the woman with a grin. “A ghost!”
“I don’t know! It could have been a hallucination for all I know, but it was real, I’m sure of it. We have to go with him to the hospital.”
Tilly stood, deep in thought again. She was skeptical at first. However she could see that Christine was in earnest, she could see that her friend believed in what she had seen. The look of desperation on the woman’s face told her that there was something between the pair that she, Tilly, had missed.
Tilly placed her hand on Christine’s arm and, as the soldiers returned to take Jason to the waiting ambulance, she whispered. “Wait here.”

[moonglum]

Tilly returned a few minutes later accompanied by the detective assigned to Mr. Wells. She clasped Christine’s hand in her own and said. “Sir Oswald has graciously allowed us to attend Jason’s bedside at the hospital. Detective Sergeant Rogers is to accompany us at all times though, for our own safety!” Tilly raised her eyebrows slightly in comic exaggeration.
Christine frowned, she would have wished the pair to journey alone but accepted the fact that Sir Oswald did not trust them. Turning to the officer she said. “Splendid. Will you allow us to fetch our coats and a few things should our friend awaken?”
Sergeant Rogers was a compassionate man, but he was no fool. He saw the exchanges between the two women and smiled inwardly. “Certainly ladies. However, I must insist on one thing. No weapons!”
Christine smiled, “Of course Sergeant.”
The ambulance had already left by the time they were ready to leave. Christine suggested they take the Stanley and, reluctantly, Sergeant Rogers agreed. He would have preferred to requisition one of the military vehicles but did not feel he had the authority to do so. They set off at a brisk pace with Christine at the wheel. The policeman had never traveled in a steam vehicle before and was surprised at its turn of speed.
“You seem quite confident Miss Earhart. Is this an example of all the vehicles in your era?”
Christine smiled her most enigmatic smile. “Thank you, sergeant. No, I have made some extreme modifications to this one and I must confess, I am quite pleased with the way they turned out.”
It didn't take long before they caught up with the ambulance and had to slow down. The three remained silent for the rest of the journey to Melden.

[moonglum]

They pulled onto the hospital grounds and parked the car. The ambulance had pulled into the emergency point and Jason was being transferred inside. Tilly, Christine, and the detective walked to the main entrance. Sergeant Rogers walked up to the reception desk and asked. “Can you tell me where the patient is going? We have the authority to accompany him.” He showed the woman his badge.
“He is being transferred to a private ward. Room C104.”
“Thank you.” The detective obviously new the hospital layout as he led the two women around a corner to a hall with elevators and stairs. They stepped inside a waiting car and quickly rose to the second floor. Room C104 was just along the main corridor to the right. They waited outside whilst the porters removed a gurney and then entered. Jason was lying in a bed whilst a doctor and nurse were performing some medical checks.
“How long has he been like this?” The doctor asked.
“Just a few days,” Tilly replied. “Ever since he was shot.”
The doctor was studying Jason's hand. “This is strange. It is almost as if he is holding onto something very tightly.”
“That started yesterday. He was delirious at first, then he clenched his hand and the delirium stopped.” Tilly moved to the bedside and placed a hand on Jason's arm. An electric shock jolted her arm and threw it into spasm. She pulled her arm free then watched in horror as Jason’ s body began to glow with shimmering blue light. “What is happening?”, she screamed and abruptly vanished. The glow around Jason’s body began to subside and Christine instinctively reached her hand towards him. A strong hand on her shoulder pulled her away as Detective Rogers, pistol drawn, grasped her. Christine stared at the space where Tilly had disappeared. She turned to the detective and said. “We must return to the tower, now!”

[moonglum]

The Dusenberg glided along through the country lanes like a hockey puck on ice. Bertie laughed as the car narrowly missed the iron gates that had begun to close behind him, and he gunned the engine for that final drive up to the house.
"Look Tilly, they've done a marvelous job with this one. The house even looks as if it's falling down. I bet the stairs creak too." He laughed again and brought the 'old girl' to a stop in front of the main building. Tilly stared at the house with a strange sense of deja vu. She looked back at the man next to her and her heart missed a beat. Bertie looked at her and said. “Are you alright darling? You look positively white.”
Tilly smiled and putting her arms around her husband, rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m feeling rather strange Bertie. Would you mind awfully if we turned around and went back home?”
Bertie laughed. “Of course not darling.” He started the car and as they drove back towards the road, Tilly hugged his arm and whispered in his ear, “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

[moonglum]

Both Wells and Sir Oswald started, as static electricity coursed through the arms of their chairs. The walls appeared to shimmer and give off an eerie glow. Just then a technician burst into the room. “Professor, it’s started! Our calculations were wrong!”
“What is happening?” Sir Oswald was on his feet in an instant. Wells, on the other hand, sat there in amazement. “Fascinating.”
The Professor wheeled his chair around and headed towards his elevator. Looking over his shoulder, he called out. “Gentlemen I must ask you to leave now.” He entered the cubicle and descended to the floor below. Exiting the elevator he was met with a scene of chaos. Technicians were dashing from console to console, trying to stabilize events. Papers were being knocked off desks as charts were laid out on top. The Professor approached one of the men studying a chart. “How long?” he asked.
The man looked up from his deliberations. “Minutes, maybe seconds!”
Sir Oswald and Mr. Wells meanwhile, were ushered outside by armed men. The doors closed behind them and, as they fled towards their vehicles, they turned to look back at the tower. The outer walls were pulsing with a blue glow and, as they watched, the whole building grew more indistinct until it vanished altogether.

In the hospital room, Christine stopped at the door. She turned and looked back at Jason writhing on the bed. Rushing back to his side she tried to lift him into a sitting position. Her hair was standing on end and her scalp itched, as static surged through her body. She looked for help from the detective and saw he had fled. The doctor, meanwhile, was huddled in a corner, petrified. She got Jason’s arm over her shoulder and everything vanished. The darkness that engulfed her thickened until, finally, she lost consciousness.

[moonglum]

A change and an old friend

In a small clearing in a forest life stood still. The animals sought the sanctuary of their homes, the birds stopped singing and huddled in their nests. Even the leaves on the trees seemed to cease their rustling as the wind itself quietened and died. The forest held it’s breath. Then slowly the air in the clearing shimmered and took on a hazy, bluish patina. A small, dark circle solidified in the centre and slowly grew to the size of a doorway. The creature stepped through and stopped as the portal vanished behind her. She looked around and sniffed the air. A grin curved her mouth as she sucked in the air. He was here. The White Slayer, the Reiver, was here. She was the last, the Mother. The others had failed. She had witnessed their spirits return to the Shrine for their eternal rest. Her brood, her children had tried in vain to avenge her people. She may be old now, but she would not fail. Slipping easily into the guise of a wolf, she padded off silently among the trees.

[moonglum]

Christine Earhart just wanted to sleep, but the droning was annoying. She shifted uneasily in her hammock and tried desperately to allow the gentle swaying to return her to her dreams. The hand shaking her shoulder was not helping though.
“Wake up sleepy-head. We are nearly there.”
“Nearly where?” She mumbled. The droning was becoming louder, and the swaying was beginning to make her feel sick. Her eyes snapped wide open and she sat bolt upright. DRONING........SWAYING....HAMMOCK? The realisation hit her like a hammer-blow. She was on board an aircraft.
“Come on Amelia, we’ll be landing soon lass.”
Christine almost fell from the hammock and staggered across the deck to peer out of a porthole window. The blue colour of the ocean flashed past beneath her, abruptly changing to the dull yellow sands of a beach before finally turning green as the beach gave way to grass and trees. As Christine looked she felt the hydraulic shudder as the landing lowered and locked into place.
She turned to the man standing next to her. His earlier words just starting to register. “Where ....... What did you call me?”
Fraser Norris laughed out loud. A big scottish guffaw, that shook his tall frame. “Ye really did tie one on last night lass, didn’t ye?”
A voice from the flight deck warned them to strap in, ready for landing. Christine moved forward and sat in one of the two passenger seats, next to her fellow traveller. As the aircraft began it’s descent her mind reeled. Did he really call her Amelia or did she imagine it? Where in gods name was she and, more importantly, were was Jason?

[moonglum]

Jason Korde was wondering much the same thing, as he lay in bed rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The last thing he remembered was being shot. His fingers instinctively stroked his shoulder, looking for the wound that was not there. Had he imagined it all? Was he still in that asylum? No, he recognised this room. Funny, he thought, he could never remember going to sleep in this room, only ever waking up in it. ‘Oh well,’ he thought, as he swung his legs out of the bed, ‘let us see what games await us this time'.
When he emerged from the bathroom, Jason found a breakfast tray had been left on a side-table by the window. He moved to the wardrobe and dressed quickly. Seating himself at the table, he poured a cup of tea and idly picked up a folded newspaper from beside the tray. Opening it up he found himself staring at a picture of Christine Aerhart occupying most of the front page. She was dressed in a flying suit and the headline read:
Ace Aviator Aerhart to tame the globe!
Jason read on:

‘Fresh from her success at flying solo across the Atlantic Ocean, woman aviator Amelia Aerhart is now on course in her record attempt to circumnavigate the world. She has completed all but the final stages of her epic journey.’

He was engrossed in his reading when he heard a knock on the door. Crossing the room, he opened the door to find Mrs. Peacock standing there, her arms folded and the usual dour expression on her face.
“You have a visitor sir! He is waiting in the library.” With that short speech, she turned and walked away.
He? Now who could that be, he thought as he put on his jacket and left the room.

[moonglum]

Herbert George Wells settled back into the chesterfield and thought of the strange events of the past years. After writing a purely fictional short story followed by a novel, he had been propelled along a path of research which ultimately led him to realize it was actually possible to manipulate time. True his research had floundered for a while, but thanks to his government involvement and correspondences with a young patent clerk in Switzerland, he had perfected specific instruments enabling him to monitor any movements in the time flow. It was this development that allowed him to discover the arrival of the Tower. That was five years ago and all had been quiet ever since. It was as if the events in the Essex marshes had never occurred. He had continued his experiments in secret and finally, thanks to his conversations with Professor Earhart, his dream had been realized in full. All his hard work had paid off. His time machine was ready to test. A flicker of a smile crossed his lips as he pondered the events which led him here, to this house thousands of miles from his home. His instruments had shown him Jason Korde was the reason for the fluctuations in the time-flow.

[moonglum]

"Mr.Korde, I am so very pleased to meet you." Wells stood and extended his hand as Jason entered the room. Jason looked at the man and replied.
"I'm sorry, have we met?"
"Ah, of course," Wells nodded as he remembered the events of a year ago. "No, we have not actually met in person, as it were. I was witness to your unfortunate, um, accident at the tower. Unfortunately, certain diplomatic constraints dictated that I not intervene. My name is Wells, Herbert Wells, Mr. Korde.”
Jason studied the man for a few seconds. He was well dressed but in an oddly old-fashioned suit and waistcoat.
“You have me at a disadvantage then, Mr. Wells. I have only recently arrived here and I’m still finding my bearings.”
Wells nodded. “Interesting!” He reached into his waistcoat and produced a large pocket chronometer. Its round face had several smaller dials, the hands of which were revolving at different speeds. “Tell me Mr. Korde, how long has it been since your accident and do you know what year this is?”
Jason sighed. “I am afraid Mr. Wells that dates and times no longer hold an interest for me. One day is much the same as all the others. You will forgive me if I seem vague but that is just the way of things!”
Wells nodded again. “Quite. I understand, of course, it’s just that I believe I may be able to assist you.”
“In what way? You yourself have said that you hardly know me.” Jason was beginning to tire of this conversation.
Wells resumed his seat. “Mr. Korde, if you would permit me a few moments of your time to explain, I believe I can help you.”
Jason regarded this odd little man smiled and said, “How could you help me exactly?”
Herbert George Wells beamed and replied, “Why, to reunite you with Miss Earhart and end all this of course!”

[moonglum]

The plane was being buffeted by a strong headwind. Christine fought the controls with all her might just to stay on course. She had been battling this weather since shortly after leaving New Guinea. Fraser had bragged to the ground crew about how good a time they made on the previous leg of the journey. So good in fact that apparently they had arrived a day early and decided to fly inland and celebrate. Christine was unaware of this. Her memory started by Jason’s bedside and ended with waking up on the short flight back to Lae airfield the following morning.
“We should be sighting Howland any time now Amelia!” Fraser twisted in his seat to face her.
Christine cringed at the name. She had tried to tell him earlier that she was not Amelia Earhart but stopped short. How could she make him understand, he would think she had gone mad! It was a good thing she was an accomplished pilot herself otherwise she might not have got away with this strange turn of events.
“I can’t see any sign of land. Try the radio again.”
Fraser fiddled with the dial and called out their ident and position. After a few moments of silence, he said, “I don’t think the set is working lassie. That scraping noise when we took off could have been the aerial breaking off underneath.”
Christine looked at the gauges. “If we don’t find Howland soon we are going to run out of fuel!”
While Fraser returned his attention to the radio, Christine continued to scan the horizon for signs of land. The only thing she could see was a strange blueish mist forming in the distance.

[moonglum]

Jason looked at the strange machine sitting in the driveway, with some amusement. It reminded him somewhat of an old-fashioned Landau without wheels. Instead, it sat on ski-like runners. At the rear was a large copper fan arrangement, the blades of which were interlocked with, what appeared to be, red gemstone fasteners. The interior comprised one large maroon leather bench seat, capable of easily holding three people across its width. In front of this was a wide control panel covered with dials and switches. Various electronic counters sat one above the other, in the centre of the console.

[moonglum]

Mr. Wells inserted a crystal rod, topped off with a small black orb, into a hole in the console and activated one of the switches. He then adjusted the numbers on one of the counters and pulled the rod all the way back in its slot. As the fan behind him started in motion, Jason felt a slight vibration, slowly getting faster and faster until the vibration disappeared and was replaced by a faint hum. Wells took out his pocket watch and showed it to Jason. He saw the hands on all the dials moving backward at an ever-increasing rate until they became a blur. Jason looked outside the machine at the landscape around them altering so fast his eyes could barely keep up with the changes. His brain fought to accept what was happening, his body began to shake as he clamped his eyes tightly shut and finally slumped into unconsciousness.
Jason awoke to a curious sight. Mr. Wells in rolled-up shirt sleeves, his trousers rolled to his knees and a knotted handkerchief on his head, was paddling in the sea! He looked over at Jason and smiled.
“Ah, you are awake, back in the land of the living I see.” He chuckled.
Jason sat up and realized he was sitting in a deckchair, on a beach!
“Where am I?” “Where are we?”
Wells walked from the water, up the beach and stopped in front of Jason. “That is a difficult question Mr Korde. An educated guess is somewhere on the west coast, probably what will be California.” He paused. “I cannot be more accurate than that, you understand!”
Jason struggled to sit upright and looked around. The beach stretched for miles in either direction and, apart from the two of them, was completely deserted. Behind them, a thick forest of trees blocked any other view.
“What happened?”
Wells smiled. “The effects of time travel on the inexperienced, old chap. At first, the brain struggles to accept what it is seeing and simply stops trying to process it. Sort of an overload of information, I guess. You do eventually get used to it, you filter it out to a degree.”
Jason shook his head, he was still feeling strange. “What year is this then?”
“I believe it’s somewhere in the Devonian Period, about sixty-four million years in the past! We have a base here!”
“We? A base?” Jason could hardly believe his ears.
Herbert George Wells laughed out loud. “Come on old chap. If you are able, there are some people you should meet”.

[moonglum]

They followed a sandy path through the jungle for some minutes until eventually arriving at a large clearing. In the centre stood the Tower and next to it, Mr Wells’ time machine.
Jason stopped. “Are we really in the past?”
Over his shoulder Wells replied. “Yes Mr Korde, come all will be revealed!” With that, he continued towards the Tower. As they approached, the door opened and Christine rushed out and threw her arms around Jason’s neck.
“I’ve missed you,” she breathed, pulling him towards her and kissing him.
Jason reveled in the warmth of her embrace until a discreet cough reminded him that Wells seemed to be in some haste. Linking her arm in his, the pair followed Wells into the Tower.
They rode the elevator up to the lounge area. Exiting, they were met by a beaming Professor. He propelled himself forward extending his hand. “My dear chap, so glad you could finally join us. You have no idea the trouble we’ve had arriving at this point. Come sit down and have some refreshment. The three of us have quite a tale to tell!