Elizabeth slipped her hand over Simon’s as it rested on his thigh. He turned to her, and she could see the ghosts of their past reflected in his eyes.
“I’m glad we’re going to San Francisco together this time,” she said with a wry smile.
Simon laughed, half humorous and half self-deprecating. “I won’t make that mistake again, I assure you.”
The old Elizabeth would have taken that to mean that he wouldn’t “let” her run off on her own again, and she would have bristled like a prized colt at the inference. But this Elizabeth knew better. She knew that wasn’t what he meant. It meant he trusted her. Completely.
Elizabeth leaned in to kiss him, but before she could, Travers’ little Piglet voice interrupted them.
“We’re here!”
Simon’s discontented sigh made her giggle. She pecked his cheek and then stepped out as the chauffeur opened the door.
They’d stopped in front of an imposing building with large Corinthian columns that looked like a bank or a museum. A detailed frieze with carvings representing the signs of the zodiac wrapped around the top of the building. She recognized all of them immediately except for the one in the center—a boy, robes around his waist, standing inside a circle—until she read the words carved beneath him.
“The Aion Society,” she read aloud.
“Clever,” Simon said modestly impressed, but trying not to be.
“What am I missing?” Jack said.
“Aion was a god of time during the Hellenic period,” Simon explained. “The more popularly known Chronos represented a more linear way of thinking—past, present and future—each discrete from the other. Aion, on the other hand, symbolizes eternity, a perception of time stretching out infinitely in all directions.”
Jack nodded. “Got it. Dr. Who. Timey-wimey stuff.”
Simon frowned and Elizabeth couldn’t stop her laugh. “Watch the show, get the joke,” she told her husband as he held the door open for her.
The inside of the building was as austere as the outside, and she’d been right about it resembling a museum. Inside were displays and glass cases and even a few tourists.
“The Aion Society’s mission,” Travers said in his best tour guide voice as he led them through the main lobby area, “is to preserve history for future generations. Our collection is quite eclectic.”
Elizabeth and the others peered into a few displays as they passed. Were all of these things from Council missions? Was something from one of their trips here somewhere? One of Sebastian’s?
“This way,” Travers said as he led them out of the main floor and back behind closed doors.
“The collection?” Elizabeth asked.
Travers pressed the button for the elevator. “A combination of artifacts obtained by the Council, and some through more traditional means. It serves as a good cover. We acquire large sums of period money, clothing and the like. That might appear somewhat suspicious without the society’s ‘collection’.”
“That’s all very interesting,” Simon said, “but that is not why we’ve come here.”
“No,” Travers agreed. “It’s not.”
The elevator dinged and the doors opened. A large man in a dark suit waited inside for them and held the door open.
“After you,” Travers said.
Elizabeth looked at Simon, but she knew they hadn’t come all this way to bug out now, and she walked ahead of him into the elevator. Travers and Jack followed.
“Sorry, sir,” the big man said as he held his hand out to stop Jack. “You’ll have to leave that here.” He indicated Jack’s holstered gun. How he’d even noticed it beneath Jack’s coat, she didn’t know.
Jack frowned and glanced at Simon who arched an eyebrow and nodded. Jack unholstered the gun, flipped it in his hand and held it out handle first.
The man waved to a pretty young woman at a nearby desk. She came over and smiled at Jack who smiled back broadly. Elizabeth could see him trying to come up with angle.
The woman laughed lightly, but was otherwise unfazed by Jack’s charm. “Your gun, Mr. Wells.”
“Oh,” Jack said. “Right.”
She smiled and took the gun, handing Jack a numbered ticket in return like a coat check girl.
She stepped back out of the way and Jack tilted his head to get one last admiring look before slipping the ticket into his pocket. “Maybe this’ll be more interesting than I thought.”
“Wells…” Simon said as the doors closed and they began their descent.
“Just makin’ lemonade, Cross. Makin’ lemonade.”
~~~
The elevator deposited them on a level with multiple doorways and corridors. Each doorway had a set of complex gears embedded in the middle. They followed Travers to the right where he entered a code on a keypad. A small panel opened and he stepped forward for a retinal scan.
Simon and Elizabeth exchanged impressed looks. The Council certainly took security seriously, which was a darn good thing when you were dealing with something as powerful and potentially dangerous as time travel.
Once the scan was over, Travers stood back and the complex series of gears in the middle of their door began to spin and grind against each other. Like layers of an onion, they peeled away, each disappearing inside the wall creating a hole about two feet in diameter. Finally, the gears stopped and the doors slid open. The only thing that was missing, Elizabeth thought, was the Star Trek whoosh.
“This is our highest security area,” Travers said as he stepped through the opening. “You’re the only civilians to set foot inside.”
“As impressive as all this is,” Simon said as they walked down a long corridor, “you said you’d take us to Katherine Vale.”
“And so I have.” Travers knocked on an unmarked door. “Travers.”
The door opened and another bulky man in a suit answered.
“You can wait outside,” Travers said to him.
The man nodded once and then stepped aside.
Travers held out his arm, gesturing for them to go in.
“After you,” Simon said pointedly. He was not about to go anywhere without Travers in grabbing distance. Travers went in and they followed.
The room was nondescript. It had a few chairs, a desk scattered with papers and filing cabinets covered most of the far wall except for another doorway. The other wall, Elizabeth realized once she was inside, was all glass, but it was dark and smoky, a deep midnight blue.
“Well?” Simon did little to hide his impatience.
Travers pressed a button and the smoky glass cleared, revealing an adjacent room with nothing but a table, a chair and Katherine Vale.
~~~
Simon took an involuntary step forward; his heart raced at the sight of her. He heard Elizabeth let out a breath next to him and he glanced over at her and they shared an uneasy smile.
This woman, this evil woman who’d haunted his nightmares for the last two weeks was here, and judging from the manacles around her wrists, their prisoner. She seemed wholly unaware of their presence on the other side of the glass. She hadn’t given any indication she’d seen them, confirming his suspicion that this was some sort of one-way mirror.
Simon stepped a bit closer to study her. She looked a far cry from the woman he’d last seen in the catacombs of Egypt. Her wild expression was neutral now, almost bored. The blood-red ceremonial robes she’d worn were replaced with sky blue surgical scrubs. The manic energy she’d exuded was completely gone.
To all the world, she looked well captured. They should be safe from her, but Simon didn’t feel the relief he’d expected. Seeing her again sent a chill through him he could not shake nor explain.
“How?” he asked, never taking his eyes off her.
“We traced her watch,” Travers said.
Simon turned to face him and took a threatening step forward. “You what? You turned on the tracking device again?”
Good God, Simon thought as he looked back at Vale, she could have fo
und them so easily.
“Yes,” Travers said apologetically. “After we learned what happened in Egypt, and the incident here—”
“What incident?”
“She killed two men in the records office,” a voice behind him said in a mild French accent.
Simon spun around to see a tall man, at least his own height, with broad sloping shoulders, leaning against the wall near the door along the back of the room. When had he come in?
“Who the hell are you?” Simon demanded.
“This is Victor Renaud,” Travers said. “Victor, this is—”
The man waved his hand in dismissal. “I know who they are.”
And, judging from the sour look on his hawk-nosed face, he was unimpressed.
Travers ignored the slight. “He’s the one you can thank for capturing Katherine Vale.”
“Thank you for that,” Elizabeth said. “A lot.”
Simon nodded his agreement. “We’re in your debt.”
Renaud grunted in acknowledgment with patented French smugness, as he pushed himself off the wall and walked toward the glass. Simon waited for something more, but nothing came.
Renaud cast an assessing glance at Simon and then Elizabeth, as he slowly walked to the glass divider. His expression remained dark and sullen, and never changing as his attention slid from them to Vale.
Simon bristled at the obvious show of disdain for their gratitude. Who the hell did he think he was?
“Did you get back all of the watches she had?” Elizabeth asked.
“Just one,” Travers said. “The others…”
Simon grunted. Perfect, their entire mission had been for nothing.
“It’s worse than that, I’m afraid. After her return, she broke into the records office,” Travers said, his embarrassment clear, “and killed the men on duty before escaping.”
“What did she take?” Jack asked.
Travers sighed. “Nothing.”
“She must have been after something,” Simon said, turning back to look at her.
“Oh, yes,” Travers said. “It was after her escape that we reactivated the tracking device and Victor found her.”
Renaud continued to silently watch Vale through the glass.
Travers looked at her anxiously and then continued. “She’d been there less than a day by the time Victor found her.”
“That’s good,” Elizabeth said.
“Not good enough,” Renaud said softly.
That chill Simon felt began to grip his spine. “Where did she go?”
“1887, London.”
“Why then?” Jack asked.
“Her first assignment,” Elizabeth answered. “She told me about it in San Francisco. She’d been sent back to study Jack the Ripper. With Charles Graham.”
Simon’s heart began to race again, but he forced it to slow, forced himself to focus. “But the Jack the Ripper killings were in 1888, not 1887.”
Travers nodded. “The failsafe. The watch failsafe was reactivated with the tracking device. It keeps anyone from traveling to a time they’ve already lived through.”
“But I went back to 1933 and I’d already lived through it,” Jack said.
“The tracker was off then, so the failsafe didn’t stop you.”
Simon’s mind whirled as he started to put the pieces together. “She couldn’t go to 1888, but she could go to 1887 and wait.”
“Exactly,” Travers said, looking again at the woman behind the glass. “We’re assuming she was planning to kill Charles Graham.”
That was a logical conclusion, considering she’d gone to great lengths so far to do just the same.
“But Victor got to her before she could?” Elizabeth said.
Travers sighed. “Yes.”
Clearly, there was more to it. “But?”
Renaud stared at Vale. “Not before she did something else.”
“What?” Elizabeth asked, turning away from Vale for a moment. “What did she do?”
“That’s the trouble,” Travers said anxiously. “We’re not sure what.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Jack said. “Then how do you know she did something?”
“Cause and effect.” Travers turned to Simon and Elizabeth. “We can’t see the cause, but we can see the effect. And it’s…a problem.”
Renaud snorted. “A problem.”
Inside the cell, Vale stood up and turned to look at the glass. Her eyes scanned it and seemed to know just where to look. Her gaze fell on each of them in turn and finally landed on Elizabeth.
“A rather large problem,” Travers said as they all watched Vale move slowly toward them.
She walked to the far end where Jack stood and put her index finger on the glass. She trailed it along the surface, her finger squeaking as it slid across it.
Simon frowned. That wasn’t right. Not right at all. Ahmed had shot off her index finger. He could still remember seeing the bloody stump as she held the watch in her hand before she’d disappeared. But now it was as if that had never happened.
Vale stopped in front of Elizabeth. She lifted her hands and splayed out the fingers of both hands against the glass. Her pale violet eyes seemed to see right through the barrier, and she smiled.
Simon’s voice was soft as he spoke, as he realized what had happened. “Dear God. She’s changed time.”
Chapter Three
ELIZABETH HEARD WHAT SIMON said, but it barely registered. Vale’s eyes were locked onto hers as if she could see, not just through the glass, but right through Elizabeth’s soul.
“That’s the curious thing,” Travers said. “Whatever she’s done, it’s happening and unhappening. Or,” he added with a thoughtful squint, “has happened?”
With an effort, Elizabeth looked away. “What do you mean happening and unhappening?”
“Whatever she’s done it’s created a paradox where events are changing one minute and then reverting back the next. It’s a constant state of flux and entirely unpredictable. It’s very disconcerting.”
“That’s one way of putting it,” Jack said with raised eyebrows.
Travers looked nervously toward Vale. “Let’s discuss this elsewhere, shall we?”
Elizabeth didn’t need to be asked twice. Leaving sounded like a very good idea. She glanced back at Vale, but she’d already left the window and returned to her seat. Leaning back in it, her placid exterior returned.
Travers opened the door to the hall and Elizabeth, Simon and Jack started toward it.
“Are you coming Victor?” Travers asked as the others exited into the hall.
Victor slowly shook his head and kept his gaze on Vale.
“Tomorrow, then?” Travers said.
Renaud did not respond and Travers laughed nervously as he gently closed the door behind him, leaving Renaud inside. He turned to Elizabeth and the others. “Coffee?”
Simon frowned. “Just answers, thank you.”
Travers’ smile faltered, but he nodded. “My office is this way.”
They traveled down a few more levels and down another long hall to Travers’ office. He opened an ordinary looking door and held it open for Elizabeth and the others to precede him.
The room was not what Elizabeth had expected. Not that she’d given where Travers worked much thought, but from his rumpled suit and nervous, nebbishy ways, she’d expected him to have a little cubicle-like office. This, however, was not the office of any worker bee.
The room was substantial and plush—very Big Cheesy. Four dark leather club chairs huddled together at one end of the room and a large mahogany desk at the other, with a pair of antique globes on either side. And despite being several stories underground, it was light and bright. False windows let in simulated sunshine and ever-changing views.
“This is your office?” Elizabeth said.
He looked around the room, a little embarrassed. “I’ve recently been…promoted. Please,” he gestured to the club chairs.
Elizabeth and Jack took th
eir seats
Travers lingered, waiting for Simon.
“I’ll stand,” Simon said.
Travers opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it and sat down.
“As I was saying before. Time—”
“Why are we here?” Simon asked abruptly.
Travers looked nervously from Simon to Elizabeth and then back. “I’m afraid we need your help again.”
“The last time you said that we were ambushed by that…creature and nearly killed.” Simon took a step closer to Travers’ chair.
“I’m sorry about that—”
“Come to think of it,” Elizabeth said. “The other time you asked us for help, she was there, too.”
“It is a bit of a theme, isn’t it?” Travers said softly.
“If you expect us to risk our lives trying to stop whatever madness that witch has—”
“I do.” Travers said the words firmly, but his downward glance at his hands as he worried them in his lap gave away his nervousness. “You must.”
Simon still towered over him, but he wasn’t cowed. “However she’s managed it, and she has, her actions in 1887 have led to a change in history. This one change is the lynchpin for an entire series of events, for an entire group of people.”
“The Council?” Elizabeth asked.
“And others, but I’m sure you can see why changing the history of the Council might have far reaching consequences, ones that directly affect each of you.”
Elizabeth looked up at Simon. She saw her own thoughts mirrored in his green eyes. They’d been through this before. One change in history could result in a ripple effect with devastating consequences. As much as they tried to avoid the Council, she and Simon were irrevocably linked to it. A change in the Council’s history would mean a change to theirs.
Simon turned back to Travers. “You said there was one change. You know what changed then? Specifically?”
“Yes. We don’t know how she managed it or, frankly why, but our people have been able to pinpoint one historical event that is creating a cascade effect. Unless it’s reversed, set back to the way it is supposed to be, time will be altered. Permanently.” Travers stood and walked over to his desk.
A Rip in Time (Out of Time #7) Page 2