"It will serve," Moreau said.
They changed and moments later, Wells stood before a mirror, examining himself in the black clingsuit. "I cannot say it flatters me.” he said. "It seems terribly revealing. And what makes it shine so? It looks as though it is soaking wet."
"It is the nature of the material," Moreau said somewhat impatiently. "And rest assured, in this time period, it is considered a conservative fashion. I should warn you that we are liable to see people, women in particular wearing costumes that are far more revealing. Customs are very different here. Try not to be shocked."
They went outside into the hallway and took a drop tube to the lobby. Wells could barely contain himself. He wanted to know how the lighting in the hallway operated, how the drop tube functioned, what made the indicator lights work and where the cool air was coming from. Moreau made no attempt to reply to his torrent of questions, saying merely that it was impossible to explain hundreds of years of scientific development to someone who could not even comprehend most of the terms and Wells had to satisfy himself with brief explanations of what the function of various things was, rather than how they functioned.
They came out into the lobby and Wells gasped at the immensity of it, at the height of the ceiling, which was several dozen stories over their heads at the huge colored fountain playing in the lobby's atrium and the strange music, coming from nowhere and created by instruments he could not even identify. As they walked across it and approached the large ornate glass doors leading outside, Wells was stunned to see them open by themselves and Moreau was unable to restrain him from repeatedly stepping on and off the sensor panels, making the doors open and close repeatedly, as a small child might do.
"Please. Herbert," Moreau said, finally dragging him away. "We must try not to attract attention to ourselves."
They went outside into the street and walked for a short distance, Wells craning his neck backward, looking up above them at the impossibly tall buildings and the traffic overhead. He stopped in the center of the sidewalk, gazing up with rapture and in moments there were a number of people around them, likewise looking up, wondering what he was looking at.
"Herbert, for God's sake, please!" Moreau said, dragging him on.
They hadn't walked a block before an adolescent girl with varicolored hair cut in a geometric style and wearing high black boots, scarlet clingpanties and a see-through halter sidled up to them and propositioned Wells. Moreau grimaced and waved her off.
Wells grinned. "Well, in some respects at least, things have not changed very much at all."
"If you had accepted her proposition," Moreau said sourly, "I think you'd have found that things have changed more than you might think. Come, let us go back to the hotel. I do not wish to expose you to so much that your mind will be shocked by overstimulation. We have much to talk about."
"Please, can't we stay a little while longer?" Wells said. "Can't we walk about? There is so much to see! I have a thousand questions bursting from my brain!"
"Later, perhaps," Moreau said. "Regrettably, we cannot remain here for long. Bringing you here was a great risk and Iam still not certain that it was the right decision. However, perhaps it was for the best. Perhaps now you will possess enough perspective to fully appreciate what I have to tell you. It would take hours to even begin to answer some of those questions you have, but I needed to eliminate your doubts."
"And that you have," said Wells, glancing all around him. "To think that I have traveled hundreds of years into the future! What a world awaits us! What astonishing accomplishments! Please, Moreau, can't we stay awhile longer?"
Moreau smiled, "Very well. But keep close to me. If we were to become separated, you would become truly lost, forever. -
"I do not know that I would mind that very much, — said Wells.
"Don't even joke about it," said Moreau.
"What would happen if we did not go back?" said Wells. "Purely for the sake of argument, of course."
"There is no way of knowing exactly what would happen.” said Moreau, "but you can be certain that history would be changed. The results could be disastrous on an unimaginable scale. By the act of bringing you here, I have already altered history, but the risk is slight if we follow proper precautions. It is nothing compared to the risk we all face hack in your own time. And now that you have seen all this, perhaps you might begin to understand. Come, I will tell you about myself, about who and what I am and where I came from, and about the crowning achievement of my career, which has now turned into a nightmare that threatens all humanity. And it all began when a device known as a chronoplate was invented and man achieved the capability of traveling through time…"
"Count Dracula?"
The tall dark man in the black opera cape paused as he was about to get into his coach outside the Lyceum Theatre. "I am Dracula.” he said, turning around.
"Inspector William Grayson, Scotland Yard. Might I ask you to give me a moment of your time?"
"Certainly. Inspector. How may I help you?"
"I should like to ask you a few questions. I understand that you were one of the last people to see Miss Angeline Crewe alive. "
"Yes," said Dracula, " I suppose I must have been. I had heard about her collapse during rehearsal. Poor girl, a tragedy to die so young. But why should the police be interested? It was an illness, no?"
"We have reason to suspect that it may not have been.” said Grayson. "Why, did she seem ill to you?"
"I thought she seemed a trifle pale," said Dracula.
"You had dinner with her and another young woman from the company, a Miss Violet Anderson?"
"Yes, that is correct.”
"And there was another gentleman present, a Mr. Anthony Hesketh?"
"Yes, it was Mr. Hesketh who introduced me to Miss Crewe."
"Isee. When was the last time you saw Mr. Hesketh?"
"I believe it was that evening, when we all had dinner together."
"And you have not seen him since?"
"No, I think he said something about going abroad on business.”
"How well do you know him?"
"We occasionally take in a play together. We met here, at the Lyceum. He was kind enough to share my box with me and assist me with the language. English is not my native tongue, you know."
"You seem to speak it very well," said Grayson.
"Thank you, but my fluency is not all that I would like it to be. The theatre is an excellent place to hear it spoken properly. I never tire of listening to Mr. Irving."
"So you and Mr. Hesketh are not very close, then? You see each other only at the theatre?"
"And sometimes for dinner, afterward." said Dracula. "I am a very private person, Inspector. I generally keep to myself and only go out at night. Mr. Hesketh seemed like a very pleasant and well-educated young man, but he is only an acquaintance, nothing more. I could not even say what business he is in. I do not recall ever discussing it with hint. Such matters bore me. We spoke mainly about music, literature and the theatre. I fear that I am not being of much help to you." "On the contrary," Grayson said, "every little bit of information helps. Might I ask what brings you to London?"
Dracula smiled. "I am a very wealthy man, Inspector Grayson, thanks to the fortunes of my family. I devote most of my time to travel. There is not a great deal to occupy one's time in my native country. The night life of London is so much more fascinating.
"
"I see, May I ask where you are staying'?"
"For the present, I am taking rooms at the Grosvenor. But I enjoy sampling your hotels as much as I enjoy sampling your theatre. In fact, I am enjoying England so much that I am considering purchasing a home here. Perhaps nothing quite so grand as my family castle in Transylvania, but on the other hand, nothing quite so old and drafty, either."