Burton raked his fingers through his beard. “They’re spreading outward.”
Abberline nodded. “I thought Holmes would want to know, since defending the Crown against esoteric threats seems to be in his purview, but he didn’t want to hear any of it. He had some of his bloody scoundrels throw me out, while he takes a meeting.”
“With whom is he meeting?” Miss Hemlock asked eagerly.
“I don’t know. Two men. I didn’t recognize any of them.”
“Wait,” said Miss Hemlock, reaching into her coat. She produced a leather wallet and extracted from it two square pieces of paper. One by one she unfolded them and showed them to Abberline. “These people?”
Abberline studied the first one, a reproduction of an engraving depicting a man wearing a dark suit and long, bushy sideburns. “Yeah. That’s him. Looks a bit younger in the flesh, but that’s definitely him. I’d stake my badge on it.”
Miss Hemlock glanced up at Burton. “Daniel Gooch, railway engineer.”
She showed Abberline the next piece of paper, this time a reproduction of a photograph of an older man with a high forehead and receding hair. “That’s the second man,” declared Abberline.
“Charles Babbage,” said Miss Hemlock.
“Yes, I’ve heard of Babbage,” said Burton. “He invented something called a Difference Engine, said it would revolutionize industry. But he ran out of money before he could complete it. He’s been begging for funds ever since.”
Miss Hemlock returned the papers to her wallet and the wallet to her coat. “Then it seems I am too late.”
“What do you mean?”
“What I had hoped to stop has already begun to transpire. Mr. Gooch and Mr. Babbage are two of the men responsible for creating the machine that Mycroft Holmes will one day transfer his consciousness into.”
“You think Mycroft Holmes is already in possession of the Map of Time?” asked Burton.
“It is the only reason he would want to prolong his life,” said the Time Agent. “So he can oversee and guide humanity through these major upcoming moments in our history.”
“You haven’t missed your chance,” said Abberline.
Burton and Miss Hemlock stared at the policeman.
“You wanted to wait until your mysterious villain handed it off, right?” asked Abberline.
“Yes,” said Miss Hemlock.
“Well, he’s done so. Now you can get it.”
“But I don’t know where it is. I need to retrieve it without his knowledge.”
“He’s going to keep something like that close,” said Burton. “We’d need to know the precise moment he acquires the document and see where he puts it.”
“We can do that,” said Miss Hemlock, “if I can get inside his—what is it called? Stranger’s Room?”
“You certainly know your business, Miss Hemlock,” said Abberline.
“I know my history,” she corrected.
“But how can you spy on him when he’s so close?” asked Abberline.
Miss Hemlock grinned. “As Mycroft’s more famous younger brother would say, it’s elementary. Captain Burton, you’ve traveled through Time. You know of its effects?”
“You mean the way Time moves around the traveler?” said Burton. “Yes. Like watching the whole world speed up or slow down around you, in either direction. Bismillah. You mean to—”
“Travel back in Time, in Mycroft’s presence, until the moment he is given the Map. Then I’ll zoom forward and look for a good opportunity to abscond with it.”
“Bloody brilliant,” said Abberline. “But there’s just one problem. You can’t get in to see him. No one can. Especially—and I beg your pardon—a woman. No one but a member can get inside the Diogenes Club without special invitation.”
Miss Hemlock scowled. “You are right, of course. Besides, he is going to guard that map with his life. Whomever gave it to him must have warned him about attempts to retrieve it.”
“Also, you must take into account that taking the Map in the past will alter the future, er, our present,” Burton said. “One of Herbert’s bloody paradoxes will ensue. Taking the Map then will eliminate our need to take it now.”
“Bloody hell,” barked Abberline. “Here we go again. All this Time travel rot is giving me a sore head.”
“Not if we return to this precise moment,” said Miss Hemlock, “and Mycroft Holmes doesn’t learn of our deception until after I’ve returned with it.”
Burton and Abberline mulled this over in silence for a long moment.
“I’m not saying it won’t be dangerous,” she continued. “Right now, there are too many variables to calculate our odds of success. But whatever damage we cause now is small potatoes compared to what Mycroft Holmes can do with the knowledge contained in that Map. We have to get it back, damn the consequences.”
Abberline scowled disapprovingly at her epithet, but said nothing.
“What if I did it?” said Burton.
“What?” Miss Hemlock and Abberline said, almost in unison.
“I can get closer to him than you, a stranger and, forgive our backwards customs, a lady. We only need a distraction so that I can move through Time. One minute—one second—out of sync would make me invisible to him.”
“It’s very dangerous,” said Miss Hemlock.
“I’ve traveled through Time before,” said Burton. “Besides, what choice do we have?”
“All right,” said Miss Hemlock, looking around. Spying an alley next to the Diogenes Club, she said, “Step into my office and I’ll show you how my portable device works.”
It was the work of a few minutes to familiarize the explorer with how to operate the wrist-mounted Time Machine. Despite its smaller size, it worked exactly like Herbert’s original design. Once Burton had it secured to his wrist, he said, “I shall go back to earlier in the day and see if I can slip inside unseen. Then I shall locate Mycroft Holmes and go back further still.”
“Wait,” said Abberline. “How do we know this is where Mr. Holmes received the bloody Map of Time? The exchange could have been made anywhere.”
“We must assume, for now, that he received it here,” said the Time Agent. “His usual haunts aren’t well known to history. Our mystery man would have also started here to look for the perfect time to pay him a visit.”
Abberline nodded, and Burton took a step backward. “All right. Off I go. Once more into the bloody breach.” He flicked open the device, carefully set the tiny dial back four hours, and set the machine in motion.
“You’re a Time Agent now,” said Miss Hemlock. “Do us proud.”
8. Through Time and Space with Dr. Moses Nebogipfel
The tiny dish began to spin with a high-pitched whine, the vibration traveling up Burton’s right arm. At first nothing happened. Then orbs of light began to dance before his eyes, and he felt himself receding. He saw Abberline, Miss Hemlock, and himself walk backward out of the alley and around the front of the building, watching as the traffic on the street in front of the building moved faster and faster in the opposite direction. The sun moved downward from its current position, back along its track until it was buried by the horizon and the tall buildings that fronted the opposite side of the street. Watching his destination appear in the dial, Burton slowed the miniature Time Machine to a stop—and promptly fell over, almost crashing into the side of the building.
“Bismillah!” he muttered. Regaining his footing, Burton looked around. The street was empty, the hour early. The sky was tinged pink with the early light of dawn.
Brushing himself off, Burton left the alley and went to the door of the Diogenes Club. The entrance was locked, so Burton knelt and produced a set of lock picks and got to work. Inside of a minute he had the door open and was inside, locking the door again behind him. It was dark, but just as posh as Burton remembered from his previous visits. He moved quietly past empty, richly appointed rooms, his boots sinking into the lush carpet as he hurried toward the building’s far end, and the infamous Stranger’s Room. Finding the room unlocked, Burton entered and looked around. Burton moved toward the far corner near the room’s single window and set the miniature Time Machine in motion once more, this time moving forward.