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Chapter 5
After Agatha had helped dismantle the box camera time machine, Harriet placed it carefully in her large carpet bag. With the time machine safely secured, the two ladies then put on their coats and stepped out into the damp night air of Victorian London.
They both stood outside the front door of 24 Harrington Square watching the thick London smog swirl around the gas-lit street lamps.
“We don’t stand much chance getting a hansom cab this late in the evening so it looks like we’ll have to walk.” Harriet announced.
Although the smog was considered a health hazard by many, tonight it was going to be their friend, giving them cover as they walked London’s deserted streets. The City of London police had still not captured the serial killer who went by the name of Jack the Ripper, and it was still considered too risky for any woman to be out on their own late at night.
The sound of their metal-tipped boots on rough cobblestones echoed through the quiet London streets, alerting any would-be attacker to the women’s presence.
Periodically, the two of them would see tall shadows appear ahead of them in the smog. Both women would then stop walking and dive into a dark doorway until they considered the threat had passed.
Eventually, Agatha could make out through the smog the neo-classical shape of the British Museum, they had made it with half-an-hour to spare before their vortex deadline.
The two women looked about them, checking there were no Peelers in sight. Certain the coast was clear, the two of them ran from their cover, up to the iron gates that led into the museum grounds.
The gates were obviously locked. Agatha reached out and shook the steel-grey padlock that fasten the chains around the museum gates.
“Come on!” Harriet whispered, “I know a side gate.
The two women scuttled off like two feeling rats down the side of the museums grounds and along its black wrought iron fence. The fence carried on running along-side the road before disappearing into a thick bush. Harriet parted some of the branches and disappeared into the thicket.
Agatha, stood waiting for Harriet to return, she did so moments later, instructing Agatha to follow her. Amongst the thorns and burrs of the thicket was a hidden rusty gate. In all the years that Harriet knew of its existence, it had never been padlocked.
“I found this when I was a child.” She said as she opened the creaking gate.
Time was getting on, both women now ran across the lawns that surrounded the museum and threw themselves flat against the side of one of its walls.
“How are we going to get inside?” asked an out of breath Agatha.
“This way!” said Harriet, grabbing Agatha by the arm. Crouched low and scurrying along the side of the wall, both women stopped beside a low side door. Harriet rummaged in her carpet bag and retrieved a key.
“You have a key to the British Museum?” enquired Agatha.
“Long story,” answered Harriet as she opened the door.
Then reaching inside her carpet bag Harriet produced two oil-lamps. Lighting one she gave it to Agatha. “Now quickly take this, we only have ten minutes to reach the Egyptology section.
The side door opened into the Parthenon sculptures room, Ancient Egypt was on the upper floor, time was going to be tight!
Harriet pulled Agatha towards the Greeks and Lycians room where there was a flight of stairs. “I need to slow down,” panted Agatha. “I think I’m going to be sick!”
“We’re nearly there!” reassured Harriet as she pushed open the double doors of Room 61 and Ancient Egypt. Without hesitating, Harriet rested her carpet bag down on top of a glass display cabinet and upon opening it fetched out with both hands the time machine box camera. Agatha was close behind her with the tripod.
“Quickly!” said Harriet. “Set it up pointing at that empty space under the window near that sarcophagus!”
Agatha did as she was told. The box camera by now in Harriet’s hands was becoming heavy as the anti-matter core began to accelerate detecting the time wave vortex. Harriet removed the lens cap and jumped back as a beam of purple light projected itself on to the window.
Gradually, the image of the window was replaced by a cloud of purple smoke. The purple smoke became dense as its middle took on the form of night itself. A black hole had just appeared in Room 61 of the British Museum.
Harriet and Agatha stood open-mouthed watching as surrounding stars were being sucked into the black mass. Agatha instinctively reached out her hand, Harriet whacked Agatha’s arm back down.
“Don’t touch it! Not yet!” Harriet warned Agatha.
Then it started to happen, at first it was a small pinprick of white light in the centre of the black hole but soon it started to grow until the black hole was completely gone replaced by a large swirling bright white light. It was the time vortex!
A small storm had by now started to whip up in Room 61 as the surrounding air was being disturbed by the vortex.
“This is it Agatha!” shouted Harriet over the rushing wind. “I’m sorry I never read any of your books!”
“It’s OK the first one isn’t published until 1920!” Agatha shouted back. The 1926-time vortex was getting stronger as it detected Agatha’s presence. She was like iron filings being pulled towards the vortex magnet. “I’ll come and see you when I get back!” she said shouting to Harriet over her shoulder.
Harriet watched as Agatha levitated towards the white light, then without warning the room began to shake violently!
Harriet was knocked off her feet, as exhibits fell from their shelves smashing open some of the glass display cabinets. Upright ancient sarcophaguses tumbled and fell to the floor.
Harriet looked towards the white light, it was receding and Agatha was still here, slumped on the floor, it hadn’t worked. The black hole returned to its purple smoke form before disappearing with the light beam back inside the camera.
Agatha picked herself up and was immediately greeted by a concerned Harriet. However, the recent events had just revealed a sinister secret. One of the upright sarcophagus that had been near the window, now lay damaged on the floor with its occupier exposed for all the world to see. Expect this occupier was not part of some Ancient Egyptian royal household. This occupier belonged to the nineteenth-century and who had recently been murdered!
To be continued...
© Alice White
They both stood outside the front door of 24 Harrington Square watching the thick London smog swirl around the gas-lit street lamps.
“We don’t stand much chance getting a hansom cab this late in the evening so it looks like we’ll have to walk.” Harriet announced.
Although the smog was considered a health hazard by many, tonight it was going to be their friend, giving them cover as they walked London’s deserted streets. The City of London police had still not captured the serial killer who went by the name of Jack the Ripper, and it was still considered too risky for any woman to be out on their own late at night.
The sound of their metal-tipped boots on rough cobblestones echoed through the quiet London streets, alerting any would-be attacker to the women’s presence.
Periodically, the two of them would see tall shadows appear ahead of them in the smog. Both women would then stop walking and dive into a dark doorway until they considered the threat had passed.
Eventually, Agatha could make out through the smog the neo-classical shape of the British Museum, they had made it with half-an-hour to spare before their vortex deadline.
The two women looked about them, checking there were no Peelers in sight. Certain the coast was clear, the two of them ran from their cover, up to the iron gates that led into the museum grounds.
The gates were obviously locked. Agatha reached out and shook the steel-grey padlock that fasten the chains around the museum gates.
“Come on!” Harriet whispered, “I know a side gate.
The two women scuttled off like two feeling rats down the side of the museums grounds and along its black wrought iron fence. The fence carried on running along-side the road before disappearing into a thick bush. Harriet parted some of the branches and disappeared into the thicket.
Agatha, stood waiting for Harriet to return, she did so moments later, instructing Agatha to follow her. Amongst the thorns and burrs of the thicket was a hidden rusty gate. In all the years that Harriet knew of its existence, it had never been padlocked.
“I found this when I was a child.” She said as she opened the creaking gate.
Time was getting on, both women now ran across the lawns that surrounded the museum and threw themselves flat against the side of one of its walls.
“How are we going to get inside?” asked an out of breath Agatha.
“This way!” said Harriet, grabbing Agatha by the arm. Crouched low and scurrying along the side of the wall, both women stopped beside a low side door. Harriet rummaged in her carpet bag and retrieved a key.
“You have a key to the British Museum?” enquired Agatha.
“Long story,” answered Harriet as she opened the door.
Then reaching inside her carpet bag Harriet produced two oil-lamps. Lighting one she gave it to Agatha. “Now quickly take this, we only have ten minutes to reach the Egyptology section.
The side door opened into the Parthenon sculptures room, Ancient Egypt was on the upper floor, time was going to be tight!
Harriet pulled Agatha towards the Greeks and Lycians room where there was a flight of stairs. “I need to slow down,” panted Agatha. “I think I’m going to be sick!”
“We’re nearly there!” reassured Harriet as she pushed open the double doors of Room 61 and Ancient Egypt. Without hesitating, Harriet rested her carpet bag down on top of a glass display cabinet and upon opening it fetched out with both hands the time machine box camera. Agatha was close behind her with the tripod.
“Quickly!” said Harriet. “Set it up pointing at that empty space under the window near that sarcophagus!”
Agatha did as she was told. The box camera by now in Harriet’s hands was becoming heavy as the anti-matter core began to accelerate detecting the time wave vortex. Harriet removed the lens cap and jumped back as a beam of purple light projected itself on to the window.
Gradually, the image of the window was replaced by a cloud of purple smoke. The purple smoke became dense as its middle took on the form of night itself. A black hole had just appeared in Room 61 of the British Museum.
Harriet and Agatha stood open-mouthed watching as surrounding stars were being sucked into the black mass. Agatha instinctively reached out her hand, Harriet whacked Agatha’s arm back down.
“Don’t touch it! Not yet!” Harriet warned Agatha.
Then it started to happen, at first it was a small pinprick of white light in the centre of the black hole but soon it started to grow until the black hole was completely gone replaced by a large swirling bright white light. It was the time vortex!
A small storm had by now started to whip up in Room 61 as the surrounding air was being disturbed by the vortex.
“This is it Agatha!” shouted Harriet over the rushing wind. “I’m sorry I never read any of your books!”
“It’s OK the first one isn’t published until 1920!” Agatha shouted back. The 1926-time vortex was getting stronger as it detected Agatha’s presence. She was like iron filings being pulled towards the vortex magnet. “I’ll come and see you when I get back!” she said shouting to Harriet over her shoulder.
Harriet watched as Agatha levitated towards the white light, then without warning the room began to shake violently!
Harriet was knocked off her feet, as exhibits fell from their shelves smashing open some of the glass display cabinets. Upright ancient sarcophaguses tumbled and fell to the floor.
Harriet looked towards the white light, it was receding and Agatha was still here, slumped on the floor, it hadn’t worked. The black hole returned to its purple smoke form before disappearing with the light beam back inside the camera.
Agatha picked herself up and was immediately greeted by a concerned Harriet. However, the recent events had just revealed a sinister secret. One of the upright sarcophagus that had been near the window, now lay damaged on the floor with its occupier exposed for all the world to see. Expect this occupier was not part of some Ancient Egyptian royal household. This occupier belonged to the nineteenth-century and who had recently been murdered!
To be continued...
© Alice White
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