Abberline reloaded his revolver. “Stay inside, Mr. Holmes. Don’t open this door for man or Morlock.”
“Are you giving me orders, Inspector?”
Abberline looked him up and down. “Why yes, I bloody well am. Now stand back and let me do my job.”
For once in his life, Mycroft Holmes did as he was told. He stepped back from the portal, allowing Detective Inspector Abberline and the mysterious Miss Hemlock to exit the Diogenes Club. Then he closed the door behind them and bolted it.
From all over the city the Morlocks emerged, stepping out of dim alleyways, crawling out of sewer grates. People ran from them, screaming. Spooked horses bolted, turning over the carts and carriages they hauled, spilling out cargo inanimate and human alike. People fought off the Morlocks as best they could, with walking sticks, umbrellas and bare fists. Under the direction of Inspector Abberline, the London Metropolitan Police showed up in short order, forming a cordon around the area near the Diogenes Club, which was where the largest group of Morlocks seemed to be converging.
Miss Hemlock looked about for a way to reach the Tower of London and catch Nebogipfel before he could abscond with the Wold-Newton stones, if he hadn’t already. She knew the chances were great that he already had, but she would deal with that when the time came.
As she ran up the street, she was accosted by a Morlock, the pale brute grabbing her from behind. She screamed, twisting around to get her hand on its goggles. She yanked them off, exposing the creature to the bright midday sun. It howled in pain, shrinking back from her. She gave it a swift kick between the legs for good measure. The Morlock mewled like a wounded animal as she ran up the street away from it, reaching for her Time Machine. If she couldn’t navigate through the chaos she would move around it through the fourth dimension. She was about to activate it when a familiar voice called her name.
“Miss Hemlock!”
She looked up to see a carriage driven by none other than Captain Burton. He slowed the horses to a stop beside her. Inside the carriage was a man who looked strangely familiar, like Nebogipfel, only without the dark beard.
“What are you doing here?”
“We don’t have time to explain,” said Burton. “Where’s Nebogipfel now?”
“He is going to the Tower of London to retrieve the Wold-Newton stones.”
“Get in!” said Burton. “Herbert will explain everything on the way.”
“I will?” said the Time Traveler.
“Hurry!”
Herbert opened the carriage door and helped Miss Hemlock inside. No sooner had she climbed in than the carriage started off, Captain Burton spurring the horses into a gallop. The carriage bounced so that she feared the entire carriage would come apart at the next bend in the road.
Getting herself seated, she said, “What is going on? Why is Captain Burton with you?”
“He came to see me in the future,” said the Time Traveler. “I’m Herbert, by the way.”
“So I gathered.”
“I’m afraid my doppelganger has been running amok.”
Miss Hemlock stared at him for a long moment. “Your what?”
Herbert explained things as best he could as Burton drove them through a sea of marauding Morlocks. Outside the carriage, a few more of the fungoid beasts had been relieved of their goggles, and were being held back people brandishing burning sticks of wood.
“Heavens,” said Herbert, staring out one of the carriage windows. “The Morlocks have never had to work so hard for their supper. They bred the Eloi to come to them.”
Miss Hemlock didn’t have the foggiest idea what the man was talking about, and didn’t want to. One thing she had learned from traveling through Time was that it was possible to know too much. Herbert’s doppelganger had certainly used that knowledge for ill intent. She knew one thing: none of this was supposed to happen. There was no historical record of Morlocks invading London, and no way to keep such a large-scale event a secret. This was yet another paradox atop an assemblage of paradoxes, and she didn’t think she would be able to untangle them.
“This is all my fault,” said Herbert. “I never should have built my Time Machine.”
“No,” said Miss Hemlock. “It’s mine. I should have stopped this from happening. Your doppelganger, or whomever he is, should never have been able to come back here. He stole a Time Unit from my offices.”
“You did everything you could,” said Herbert. “He also went into the future, and brought an army of Morlocks back through Time with him, right under my nose. I should have seen it. He’s me, for God’s sake!”
“We shouldn’t be beating ourselves up,” said Miss Hemlock. “There is one person to blame here, and that is this Nebogipfel fellow. We need to find him and put an end to this nonsense once and for all.”
“You’re bloody well right, of course,” said Herbert. “But how? He’s been ten steps ahead of us this entire time!”
Miss Hemlock tapped her chin with an index finger. “What does he want with the Wold-Newton stones?”
“He wants to remove himself from this timeline,” said Herbert. “This version of Earth.”
“What? Can he do that?”
Herbert shrugged. “He thinks he can. Captain Burton has had some experiences that seem to suggest it’s possible.”
Miss Hemlock arched an eyebrow. “Experiences?”
“He met versions of himself from an alternate timeline,” said Herbert. “It was quite fascinating. One of these other Burtons was some sort of mystic who actually had pieces of the Wold-Newton stones embedded in his forehead. By focusing his mental energy, he seemed to be able to move himself and the other versions of himself through different universes. By Jove. I suppose it isn’t a universe anymore, is it? Perhaps a multiverse…”
“That is fascinating,” said Miss Hemlock, interrupting him. “And it gives me an idea.”
13. All the Myriad Strands of Time
Captain Sir Richard Francis Burton, the Time Traveler, and Miss Hemlock arrived at the Tower of London to discover it overrun with Morlocks. They heard screams and gunfire as they drove beneath the large archway that curved toward the main entrance. Burton urged the wary animals to a stop near the tall steps that led into the ancient structure. The explorer smelled gunpowder and blood as he hopped down from the driver’s box and opened the carriage door.
“What is this plan of yours?” asked the Time Traveler
“It’s simple enough,” said Miss Hemlock, stepping out of the stolen carriage. “We let Nebogipfel win.”
“What?” protested Herbert. “That’s the opposite of what we should do.” But as he alighted from the carriage, his mouth stretched into a devious grin. “By Jove! No, Miss Hemlock is right. We must let him win. It’s the only way to stop him.”
“I’m afraid I don’t follow,” said Burton.
“I’ll explain on the way,” said Miss Hemlock. “Come. We must hurry.”
“If we are to let him win,” said the explorer, running after her, “why not let him take the Wold-Newton stones and be gone?”
“Because then he wins,” said Miss Hemlock as they went up the steps. A Morlock lay upon them, bleeding, its smoked goggles yanked half off its misshapen head.
“This ill-advised daylight invasion isn’t going to end well for the Morlocks,” Burton said.
“My doppelganger is using them as a distraction,” said Herbert. “With half the city fighting the Morlocks he can get at the Wold-Newton stones. Besides, I think he intends to leave them here, giving them a head start on eating humanity. We’re nothing but Proto Eloi, as it were.”
“Do you have any idea what he’s talking about?” asked Miss Hemlock.
Burton nodded. “I’m afraid so, my dear.” He produced a revolver from his pocket. Herbert was similarly armed. Miss Hemlock gasped in surprise.