“No Mr Urquhart, which suggests the travel was set from here.”
An idea came to me. “So James, what would happen if we changed them all to your time?”
They both looked at me, then we both looked at Mr Wells who, taking on board my suggestion, proceeded to move the dials to 2015. At first nothing happened. Then the air above the plinth began to shimmer and within another moment a black capsule materialised.
“It’s the box Marco had at Manchester!” said James.
He went over to it and pressed a button and a door slid open.
We entered. It was empty. Then we left quickly for we realised we had left Mr Wells in charge of the dials.
“You know what this means?” I said, suddenly realising what we had done.
“Yes, it means Marco is now stranded in some point in time without the means of getting back. Can anyone remember what the dates were set at? And more importantly, which dial does what?”
---~---
J.
We moved the first dial to 1900. Nothing happened. We moved the second dial and the time machine disappeared. The third dial did nothing.
We moved the second and third back to the present and the machine reappeared. I then went back down the passage to the pub. When I got to the door of the White Room I opened it and found a rather dirty room with candles and a moth-eaten bed. The first dial obviously moved us backwards and forwards in time which meant the whole chamber under the castle was a time machine as well. I wondered how much power our actions had consumed and more importantly whether anyone had noticed.
When I got back to the cavern I set the first one back to the present and returned to the pub. I was in the present time again. Then I repeated the process with the third dial and the time machine disappeared. I went back up the passage and found nothing changed outside.
At this point Elizabeth, who I thought had just been patiently wondering what I was doing, said, “James, change the hour on the third dial again. Look at the globe. There is a pointer over England.”
I looked at the slowly rotating earth. A brass point hovered over southern England. I turned the hour hand clockwise and the pointer moved east.
“It’s showing right ascension that means there must be ... yes, here it is. The declination dial numbered 0-90 degrees.”
I turned the hand and the pointer moved towards the north.
“It’s a spatial locator. This dial sets the location of the time machine.”
“Which means we can go anywhere in space and time. I could go back home!”
She saw my look and once again held my hand. “Not without you. Now what are we going to do with this contraption?”
“Well, we have Marco running loose and Maxwell brooding at your house. I think we should go and see Maxwell to listen to his version of events again but we must not tell him we have a time machine yet. For all I know he's been here. Are you coming with us, Mr Wells?”
“No, I am going into Midhurst in my time but first I will set us to your time so you can safely get out.”
“Actually”, I said, “we’ll set it to your time and you can leave first.”
Wells looked at us, shrugged his shoulders, and then agreed. Once he had gone we set it to our time. Just before we left Elizabeth said, “What is to prevent him coming back and using the time machine to contact Mr Batalia?”
This was a good point. I looked at the machinery. “You’re right, Elizabeth. We need to immobilise it.”
I looked at three dials and their associated levers. I tried to open the dial glass but they were sealed. However, the brass handles on all three associated levers were unscrewable and I removed them.
“This may do it, Elizabeth. But for all I know these handles just appear again in different times.”
We returned up the passage to tour room in the pub. It was our time.
We decided to book a week at the Coaching Inn to make sure we kept the room to ourselves and then drove down to Hamgreen.
Maxwell was waiting at the door.
“So you have come back. I am in some way pleased because I am stranded out of my time. What do you want?”
“We need to know what you think Marco is doing.”
“When he first visited me he came in his time machine and told me I had invented it. I denied this but he then described to me how one might travel in time. He said that if I didn’t invent it then his time machine would not exist.”
Elizabeth said “This suggests, that there are parallel worlds or multiple universes”
“It is more like at each point along our time line there are multiple or random choices at the Plank level.”
They both looked at me then Elizabeth said, “So why at each point do we not go off in different directions in time. What I mean is why we are all still here together?”
“There are infinite choices. So there's at least one universe where we all stay together.”
“I think, James, you may be on the edge of your comprehension.”
She was right of course. On the molecular level, following my suggestion, at each infinitesimal point in time our atoms should be going off in different directions.
I proposed that we must all be locked in one timeline, but each point depended on events in the past and a change of any historic event would change the future. Elizabeth, who I was beginning to think could give Einstein a hard time in a debate, said, “Do you mean our lives are already mapped out for us?”
“No, well, I hope not. I think we are free agents and the future depends on our past. Thus if you change the past you change the future.”
“And” said Elizabeth, “you can only change the future if you have a time machine.”
We both looked at Maxwell. He looked like the chap who invented dynamite for the purpose of quarrying and found that it became remembered as the explosive weapon of choice for war.
“So, Mr Urquhart, Marco is trapped in 1873 with all my research notes.”
“Yes, but he hasn’t got the technology or power supplies to construct a time machine to get back.”
“Unless Wells has sent the machine back to him,” said Elizabeth.
“God, I’m an idiot. They could be working together! I hope those handles will stop him.”
---~---
E.
To see my home again gave me mixed emotions. I knew I was out of my time, but I hoped that somehow Flory could be there to meet me.
I needed to be home. My bed, my favourite chair, the comfort of the soft candle light and the smell of an apple wood fire in the hearth with James. With James? I realised I wanted him with me in my time. Perhaps all of us just want to go home. But I knew now was not the time. It was occupied by Mr Maxwell and now James had proposed Mr Wells was working with Mr Batalia we may have lost our only chance of going back.
While contemplating my changed life suddenly the air in front of me shimmered and momentarily distorted and the time machine appeared. The door slowly opened. James moved close to me. Out stepped Mr Wells.
“Well, that worked. Thank you for your help Mr Urquhart. Now ...”
Maxwell rushed for the door of the machine, but James stopped him just in time. “And where are you going, Maxwell?”
“I am going home to tear up my papers.”
“Well, I’m afraid Mr Maxwell you cannot because it is only set to go from here to Midhurst,” said Wells.
James, who looked very perplexed, said, “How did you use the machine, Mr Wells? I removed the control handles.”
“Oh, it was easy. I just put my penknife in the slots and manipulated the sliders to the right position.”
James had that look he had when he broke into my house and felt he had not quite measured up to my expectations.
“OK, now that we are all together,” said James, “I suggest we all go back to the control room in the time machine and discuss our plans there. We can’t manipulate time here.”
“Just a minute Mr Urquhart,” said Mr Wells. “I’ve come here pos
t-haste because when I returned to my world, Mr Batalia was sitting in the public bar of the coaching inn.”
“What, you met Marco!”
“Yes, Mr Urquhart, I went up to him to thank him for his memoirs on his time machine as it had been accepted for publication and I had received a very generous fee of £100. He was studiously writing and when he turned he was quite shocked to see me. He then blustered a little and wishing me well hastily gathered up his paper and after a quick adieu he left.”
“So, Mr Wells, what was so important?”
“Well Mrs Urquhart, in his haste he left this.” He removed from his waistcoat a folded piece of paper which he handed to James.
It was a letter to a Professor Rolleston warning him on no account to discuss Maxwell’s diary and to report to Dr Batalia immediately if he had any information on the whereabouts of James Urquhart or Elizabeth Bicester, otherwise he would be excommunicated from COMSMESH. I grabbed James’ arm.
“James! We are fugitives. What have we done?”
“It seems we've learnt more about time travel than is good for us, Elizabeth, and the clue is in this name ComsMesh. Mr Maxwell, do you know where your diary is?”
“Yes, it is lodged in ...”
James stopped him in his tracks. “Stop, don’t tell me. The less people know the better.”
Then James whispered to me, “There may be bugs in here.”
I shivered and quickly looked around the room. “How big are they, James? Do they fly?” For I am quite nervous of spiders and daddy-long-legs.
“No, Elizabeth. I mean listening devices or even cameras watching us. We must get inside the machine. Humour me for a moment and pretend you are going to faint. It is important.”
I was much relieved though I could see James wasn’t. I played his game.
“Oh James, I am going to faint. I fear this conversation on time travel is too overbearing for me and now I am a fugitive from I don’t know what!” And I collapsed into his arms which I must admit took him quite by surprise.
“Help me, gentlemen, my wife needs some air. Help me to the time machine.”
And we went inside with James carrying me in quite a close fashion which I could tell he was enjoying at my expense.
James turned to Maxwell. “She has left her handbag on the sofa with her smelling salts. Quick Maxwell, get them before she faints again.”
Maxwell rushed out and James closed the door behind him. I was already holding my bag.
“Now, Mr Wells, get us back to Midhurst quickly!”
Wells started the machine and in seconds we were back in Midhurst. I gently released his grip and gave him a demure look that told him I was aware of his actions, then played that I was much relieved and felt better.
“Thank you, Elizabeth. It was the best I could think of to make sure Maxwell didn’t come with us.”
“And why don’t you want Maxwell with us?”
“Because he and Marco are trying to change time and I don’t know why. We need to find out what ComsMesh is.”
---~---
J.
When we got back to the Midhurst cavern, I could see Wells was quite concerned. I decided to tell him our whole story with Marco, how Elizabeth and I met and the time travels. He was extremely interested and said it had all the makings of a good novel with the right pen and embellishments. I was rapidly coming to the conclusion that Mr Wells’ only interest in life was writing adventures.
“Well, Mr Urquhart, I think there is still much to be found. I almost wish my friend Mr Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes were here to help. I think I need to go back to my own time and retrieve my notes of Mr Batalia’s memoirs for there may be something in them which could be of use.”
I wasn’t too happy about him leaving but as we seemed to have control of time I agreed it would be a good idea, and if he could find out where Marco was living that would be useful as well.
After he had left we set the outside world back to our time.
I needed to make the time machine inoperable. Mr Wells turning up at Hamgreen was quite a shock.
“Elizabeth, we really have to find a way to stop people using this infernal machine. There must be something in here we can remove.”
We went inside. There were only two or three controls and the camera. Where was the power supply? I tried removing the levers but to no avail. I then tried to remove the console panel by loosening the screws with a coin. It came off to reveal a block of three fuses. I took a quick breath, hoping to not to get electrocuted, and pulled them out. The faint hum I could hear in the cabin died. We then went back along the passage to our room in the pub.
On arrival I got out my laptop and we searched through the internet looking for ComsMesh. At first, I could not find anything although a number of sites came up with a media company called Adcom. I tried a couple of the sites and they seemed to be just one of the hundreds of little web companies trying to compete with Amazon or Facebook. I then found on about the twentieth page of Google a PDF page and opened it. It was a correspondence on file sharing, peer-to-peer systems and privacy. Halfway down it mentioned a conduit called ComsMesh. Nothing else. I looked up Adcom, which seemed to occupy the first ten pages on Google. It had over a hundred million subscribers! It had a simple business plan. They offer stuff they think you want and if you buy something at least once a month you can keep your subscription. I wondered which of the big media companies owned it but to my complete surprise Adcom actually owned three of them including two of the big social networks.
I decided to go on to the Adcom site and subscribe to see how it worked. I picked up an email address and a fictitious name, Andrew Dent, and put them in. The reply made me almost jump out my skin.
“Hello, Mr Urquhart. Thank you for joining us. We have linked all your social messages in one place for your own convenience. Please choose as an introductory offer one of our free gifts.”
“My god, Elizabeth, they know who I am and everything about me!”
Not only did they know my name but I saw my lists of messages not only from my various social media clubs but from my emails as well. They had every electronic communication!
“Gosh, James, you have a lot of correspondence and hundreds of photographs. May I see?” And she gave a rather mischievous look that suggested she knew what she might find.
“Perhaps, but only if you allow me to read the diaries of your teenage years.”
“Ah, touché, James. You would know all about me and a lady could never allow that.”
“Yes, our pasts do make us what we are today, but they are not necessarily what we are now. Anyway, let’s see if I can get out of this.”
I tried to unsubscribe.
“To unsubscribe, Mr Urquhart, please follow the instructions below. Please note in unsubscribing all your media messages will be deleted.”
By one simple action I had locked myself electronically into Adcom. No wonder they had so many subscribers.
I checked the legal stuff and newspapers. Apparently by subscribing all my messages became the property of Adcom, although I was free to keep printed copies or download them for personal use. This also applied to all those media companies I had previously subscribed to that Adcom had bought.
---~---
E.
I could not imagine all my private correspondences with my friends and acquaintances on public view. What would one become in society? A slip of a pen or private judgement and a person could be ruined. I mentioned this to James, who said this happens all the time and often leads to break-ups of friendship or vitriolic attacks on one’s character. I decided this was not a medium for me and also if I ever returned to my own home I would burn all my diaries from my younger years, for I would not want James to discover them and make judgements on my infatuations.
James had by a simple action now unfortunately surrendered all his personal correspondence to a company who I imagine could do with them what they wished. I pointed this out to him.
“Ja
mes, this is terrible! This electrical medium in which you correspond. What is to prevent them altering the content? They could turn you into a criminal or make you say things about your friends which were not true! You would have no redress.”
I could see he was mortified by this.
“God, Elizabeth, what we have done? You're right. We have handed over our past to alter as they will. They would have the power to control the world. They could destroy political opposition at a stroke! I now see what Maxwell was trying to say. Marco had described this world to him and he'd seen what could happen.”
“And he blamed himself and thought if he could destroy his discoveries, Marco’s world would not exist”
“Well, Elizabeth, the good news seems to be that Marco is the villain, not Maxwell. And the bad news is we have to go back to see Maxwell, who we have abandoned twice now.”
I could see there was merit in what he suggested. Mr Maxwell was the key to Mr Batalia, but I was getting very tired and did not feel up to another challenge at that time.
“But it is getting very late now. Perhaps it would be better to go in the morning?”
“Good idea. Now let’s sort out sleeping arrangements.”
I had almost forgotten about that in the excitement of what I can only describe as the day’s adventure. I had to remember that what I desired and what was protocol were two different things. I was gratified that James helped me out in more ways than one.
“Elizabeth, I’ll sleep on the sofa with a couple of your blankets and you in the bed. I’ll pop down to the bar for a couple of drinks while you get ready.”
I did not want him to leave. “No, I do not want to be left on my own next to that time tunnel. Anybody could come out.”
“How about I wait in the bathroom until you're ready. I promise not to peek,” he said with a grin.
“And how am I going to do my ablutions?” I must confess I was enjoying testing him.
“Oh dear. Right, you get abluted and I’ll wait here. When you're ready I'll face the wall and will definitely promise not to peek. I’ll cover my eyes. You could even blindfold me.”
I was beginning to feel we were acting like two silly children trying to be good in front of their parents.
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