An Alternate Perspective

by Wynne Mabry

  Elizabeth could not stop herself from giving way to a little smile. This was like the humour she was used to hearing.

  “The realities should be properly restored as soon as possible though,” he said more seriously.

  “So they should,” Mr. Hurst agreed. “I am sure that the other Elizabeth is anxious to get home. I feel so dreadful about her being sucked into the portal as well. It must have been a great shock to her.”

  “How was it that we did not crash into her?” Elizabeth suddenly thought to ask. “It would seem that we were sucked in at the same time.”

  “Currents spinning in different directions,” Mr. Hurst said. “We must have passed each other, although without having any awareness of it, but there was never any danger of collision.”

  “So we were spun around? That explains why I felt a little dizzy afterwards.”

  “It must have been a very strange experience,” Mr. Darcy observed. “Quite unlike anything.”

  “It was too fast to really take it in,” Elizabeth said. “I cannot remember having any awareness of being in the portal.”

  “It would have been almost instantaneous,” Mr. Hurst told her. “The briefest of journeys in spite of travelling an immeasurable distance.”

  “It is a pity one cannot travel across the country like that,” Mr. Darcy said. “Imagine not having to spend hour after hour sitting in a carriage. I would like to go from Pemberley to London in just a few seconds.”

  “What a brilliant idea!” Mr. Hurst cried. “It would not be a portal of course. Maybe a very long tube, with the same spinning force. Or a series of them. One could travel to all the major towns. I wonder if that kind of force could be created in some way?”

  He hurried over to the table and started scribbling on a sheet of paper.

  “You may have just inspired a new invention,” Elizabeth said with a smile. “But you have lost his company, I fear. Mrs. Hurst has told me that once her husband has an idea in progress, it is almost impossible to gain his attention.”

  “My loss may be society’s gain,” he said with a smile. “But it looks as though you will have to put up with me instead. I shall have to stay here to justify the locked door and any sound which might be heard, but I understand that this arrangement must be unpleasant for you. I did you an injustice earlier, and I was unacceptably rude, for which I hope you will accept my apology. I should not have accused you of scheming.”

  “No, you should not,” she agreed, “but if you really have stopped being suspicious of me, then I am happy to accept your apology. You really do understand that it was not my intention to force you and Mr. Bingley into anything?”

  “I do. I realize that you only meant well.”

  “And I agree that your concerns are not my business. You and I see things differently, but if we refrain from discussing subjects of contention, then I do not see why we could not get along for a few hours.”

  “Are there really any subjects which cannot give rise to some contention?” he asked in a pleasant tone. “Just yesterday, we were talking about the accomplishments of young ladies, which one might expect to be an inoffensive topic, but it turned into quite a contentious one. Except for Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst, who often speak as one, none of us had the same ideas.”

  Elizabeth did not like to think of those two ladies being as one. “What was your opinion?” she asked.

  “I hardly dare to admit to it. I believe I gave Miss Elizabeth the impression that no lady can be considered accomplished unless she has mastered every possible talent, besides being extremely well read.”

  “That is an exceptionally high standard.”

  “Does your Mr. Darcy think differently?”

  “He must,” she said with a smile. “He is engaged to a lady who admits to being quite unaccomplished. But he does have a great value for reading. And he is proud of his sister’s accomplishments, which are quite extensive, so perhaps his opinion is not so far removed from yours.”

  “I am sure you are not completely unaccomplished,’ Mr. Darcy said.

  “You have not heard me play the pianoforte.”

  “I have heard her play and sing, which she does quite well, and you did say that the two of you seem to be much alike.”

  “Then I must amend that statement, for it seems that she has more ability than I possess.”

  “I do not think so. She admitted to not being a great performer, and I could tell that her talents were not well developed, but I still say that it was a pleasing performance. She has good taste and execution.”

  Elizabeth smiled at this further evidence of his partiality, but she did not say anything of that. Instead she asked about his sister, and after that, they managed to find enough things to converse about for the next couple of hours. All the while, her eyes were frequently directed toward the centre of the room. As time went by, her hopefulness of being rescued slowly decreased, but she had the comfort of knowing that if Mr. Hurst had to build another machine, things would be made easier by Mr. Darcy’s assistance.

  She was just thinking of relinquishing all hope of rescue and going to spend some time with Jane when the wished-for anomaly suddenly made its appearance. Having given up on it, she was especially startled to see the little ring of glowing light.

  “I think he has done it,” she cried, jumping up from her seat. “He has opened a portal.”

  Both gentlemen jumped up as well, and they looked at the slowly growing circle of light, which was so familiar to one of them, and so astounding to the other.

  The Situation Worsens

  Before leaving the breakfast room, Elizabeth mentioned Mr. Darcy’s preference for not telling everybody the truth about her, and Mrs. Hurst agreed.

  “I see his point,” she said. “My brother is not very good at concealment. Nor has my sister much discretion. It is better that Jane should be spared from worry. We do not know how long it may take for you to be able to go home, but you may rest assured that you are very welcome here.”

  “Thank you. I very much appreciate your kindness.”

  “Of course, if Darcy is successful this morning, I will not see you again, so I shall take this opportunity to wish you the best. It has been interesting to meet you.”

  “And for me to meet you,” Elizabeth said. “You have given me some things to think about.”

  Mrs. Hurst smiled.

  Back in the library, Elizabeth found that Mr. Bingley had joined his friend and apparently been put to use. He was pouring water into the part that looked like an urn. Mr. Darcy was standing at the side of the machine and looking at it like one might view an unbroken horse.

  “You are just in time,” he said to Elizabeth, “I believe I am ready to make an attempt. We just have to start a fire and wait for this water to boil. And I think we had better open one of the windows as well as leaving the door ajar, so that the air can circulate. Since I will probably have to make numerous attempts, it will be a good idea to give the steam somewhere to go.”

  Mr. Bingley went to take care of this while Mr. Darcy scooped some coal from its container and then started a fire in the firebox.

  “Will it not be a complicated thing to find the right reality?” Elizabeth asked while they were waiting. “Mr. Hurst wrote that there are a great many.”

  “It should not be as long as nobody has interfered with the machine, which is not likely to have happened.”

  “I touched it,” Elizabeth admitted. “After I got up from the floor and was wondering what it was.”

  “Did you touch any of the knobs?”

  “No, my fingers just brushed against the metal, and not near the knobs.”

  “Well, that should not do any harm. As long as none of them have been turned, I should not have to worry about finding the right reality. This large group of them determines which plane is accessed, so if they have not been adjusted, then a new portal should open in the same place as the last one that was formed.”

  “That sounds very straightforward. B
ut what if they have been adjusted?”

  “If that has happened, the chances of finding the correct plane will be severely diminished.”

  “Then we must hope that nobody has touched them,” Mr. Bingley said.

  “Are you making another portal?” asked a voice from behind them. “It looks very interesting, Mr. Darcy.”

  It was Miss Bingley. Elizabeth would have preferred her to stay away, but obviously she was curious, and perhaps also concerned about her brother-in-law as well. Even though they were apparently not close, she must have some feeling for her sister.

  “You must keep back,” Mr. Darcy told her. “Anybody who stands too close to a portal will be in danger of being sucked into it. Do not touch the machine either. And keep quiet while I work.”

  Miss Bingley obediently took up a position behind them and said nothing. Indeed, they were all quiet, and their eyes were fixed upon the water boiler, with fine disregard for the notion that a watched pot is slow to boil.

  Despite this surveillance, the water boiled, and steam puffed out of the upper pipe. Mr. Darcy put on the gloves which had been left nearby and adjusted the two levers, explaining that this directed the steam to where it was needed. The cogs began to move, and then the light appeared in the cylinder, which everybody watched with great interest.

  Mr. Darcy applied himself to turning a smaller group of knobs that was set apart from the others. The light spun faster and faster. Miss Bingley and her brother both gasped with surprise when it extended itself from the cylinder. Even Elizabeth, who had some idea of what to expect, was startled, but she recognized that this was just what she had seen from the other perspective yesterday. It was all happening as before. Mr. Darcy had succeeded. In only a few minutes, she should be back where she belonged, and the two inhabitants of this reality would be restored to their friends.

  But this spiral did not grow any larger. Instead it collapsed inward and then vanished. Elizabeth’s heart sank, but then Mr. Darcy spoke in an unconcerned voice.

  “That was the more complicated part,” he said. “I did not expect to get it right the first time. The formation of a vortex is manipulated by these three knobs, and operating them is a tricky business. But I shall try again. It may take quite a few attempts, but at least there is plenty of coal. We shall need more water, Bingley. Hot will be best this time, or at least warm. We do not want to shock the heated metal with cold water.”

  They waited impatiently for the water to be brought up, and then for it to boil again. When it was ready, Mr. Darcy made his second attempt. That also failed, and so did several more, but eventually he produced a spiralling light which held strong and grew wider. Elizabeth felt confident that he had succeeded this time.

  As he moved to the front of the vortex, she followed closely and put a guiding hand upon his arm to keep him from moving too near. As they both stood looking into it, Mr. Bingley came closer, but he remained to one side, peering at the sight from an angle.

  Elizabeth watched with interest as the scene came into view. There were tiny bookshelves in the background, and a table which she thought was the one on which she had placed her candle less than a day ago. Most importantly, there were again some distant figures. They could not be made out at first, but once the scene was enlarged, she saw herself, Mr. Hurst, and somewhat surprisingly, Mr. Darcy.

  “It has worked,” the one standing by her side cried excitedly. “We have connected to the correct reality.”

  “I should go now,” she said to him, and he nodded at her.

  “Thank-you,” she said, and then she took a step forward, anticipating the force that would draw her inside in a moment, but it did not come.

  Instead, she saw the portal suddenly grow narrow at the other end. It was conical instead of cylindrical, and she could no longer see anybody. Perhaps they had already been pulled in. But why was it not pulling her as well?

  “Should this be happening?” Mr. Darcy cried.

  “I do not think so,” she said.

  At that moment, the portal quickly widened again. Elizabeth was relieved to see the other library reappear. She could not see Mr. Hurst and the other Elizabeth though. They must already be inside the vortex and would probably be thrown out at any second. She needed to go before they collided with her. Fortunately, it was pulling her now.

  She realized that the shelves were empty at the same time as something jerked her back.

  “I hope I did not hurt you,” Mr. Bingley said apologetically. “You were standing too close. It looked as though you were about to be sucked in.”

  “I nearly was. Thank you for saving me,” she said with heartfelt gratitude. She would have been sent to some unknown place if he had not acted so promptly. It was a good thing that Mrs. Hurst and Mr. Darcy had decided against telling him the truth about her, or else he would not have thought that she needed saving.

  “Where are they?” Mr. Darcy asked. “They should be here. Where could they have gone?”

  “I do not think they have gone anywhere,” Elizabeth said. “I think it was the portal which went elsewhere. This is not the same place that we saw when we first looked into it. Just before Mr. Bingley pulled me away, I noticed the empty shelves. There should be books upon them. This cannot be the same room. It is as though the portal jumped to another reality.”

  “Are you certain?” he asked, taking a step forward. “Once a portal has been established, it should be stable. I do not understand how it could have gone anywhere else. If they are not there, they should be here. Or still in the portal.” He moved closer and looked right into it.

  “Be careful,” Elizabeth cried. “You are too close!”

  She reached out to grab him. Her fingers touched upon his sleeve, but it slipped away before she could close her hand around his arm. He flew into the portal, and she felt it pulling upon her again. Another sharp tug saved her for a second time. This time, she and Mr. Bingley both tumbled backwards onto the carpet. She looked up to see the portal rapidly diminishing. In another second it was gone.

  “What has happened to Mr. Darcy?” screeched Miss Bingley.

  Hopes Dashed

  “Thank you for your assistance,” Elizabeth said to Mr. Darcy as the circle of light in the middle of the room was growing wider.

  “Yes indeed,” Mr. Hurst said. “It was very good of you. And thank you for the idea.” He was holding his papers in one arm, but he put out the other hand.

  Mr. Darcy shook it. “It has been interesting to meet you,” he said. “I shall certainly never forget this encounter.”

  He watched with great interest and some anxiety as the vortex widened and the people at the other end came into view. In a moment, he was able to confirm that his Elizabeth was one of them. It was a great relief to see that she was there, ready to return.

  After that, he found it fascinating to look upon another version of himself. As far as he could tell, that was the face which he saw in the looking glass every day. And that clothing looked familiar as well. It appeared that they had similar taste.

  To the edge of the circle, there could be seen a sleeve and part of Mr. Bingley’s face, showing that he was both curious and cautious at the same, just as Mr. Darcy’s own friend would probably be if he were here at this moment.

  “It is wide enough for us to return now,” Mr. Hurst said. “You had better step back a bit. We do not want to risk you getting caught up in the vortex.”

  With his eyes fixed firmly upon his Elizabeth, Mr. Darcy took a couple of steps back. He saw her move forward at the same time.

  Mr. Hurst and Elizabeth also moved closer their end of the portal. She felt herself being pulled and expected to be sucked in at any second, but instead she was suddenly released from that force. Before her eyes, the vortex shrank at an alarming rate and then disappeared altogether. She turned toward Mr. Hurst in great anxiety.

  “Do not worry,” he said with a reassuring calmness. “There was obviously insufficient power to maintain the portal. Either the fi
re was not large enough, or there was too little water. Darcy has probably already realized that. We shall just have to wait a little longer for him to refuel the fire and boil more water.”

  This explanation provided Elizabeth with much-needed relief, but it was not easy to sit and wait patiently after having just been on the verge of returning. She sat and stared at the spot where the portal had appeared while Mr. Hurst carried on a conversation with Mr. Darcy about some of the other experiments and research which he had conducted over the years. Mr. Darcy was interested in the subject, but she could tell that he was also distracted.

  After a while, she wondered if it was taking a very long time for that water to boil, or if her perception of the time was being influenced by impatience.

  “Should this be taking so long?” she asked Mr. Hurst after a few more minutes.

  He looked thoughtful for a moment. “It might have been a bit long,” he said. “I was not really paying attention to the time. I would not worry about it though. There could have been a delay in getting the water, or perhaps some more coal needed to be brought in. I only had a small quantity in the library. The rest in is a shed.”

  A little more time went by, in which her anxiety increased. Eventually, Mr. Hurst admitted to feeling concerned himself. “This is longer than it should have taken, even with any delay to get supplies,” he said. “There must have been some other problem, but it could be something which Darcy is capable of fixing.”

  “Unless there is nothing that can be done,” Elizabeth said forlornly. One dreadful possibility came to mind. “Do you think the machine could have exploded?” she asked with horror.

  “No, most certainly not,” he said firmly. “I was very careful in constructing it. Anyway, an explosion would have caused a surge of power. I believe that would have been transferred to the portal. Even though it would have been brief, we should have seen some noticeable effect like a very strong glow. What we saw looked more like a loss of power. It is far more likely that a piece came loose. Darcy will think of that. He is probably going over my notes and examining every part of the machine at this very moment. He may yet be able to fix the problem.”