by carl ashmore
Becky and Joe gaped wide-eyed at each other. They were going on another journey in time, to meet Arthur Evans and find out about the disk.
Uncle Percy returned the disk to the wall safe, when Becky remembered something. ‘Uncle Percy, on the note, what do the letters ‘SS’ mean?’
Uncle Percy’s expression grew solemn. ‘Well, I’m still not completely sure, but, judging by today’s events, I think we may have found our answer. You’ve heard of a rather notorious figure called Adolf Hitler?’
‘Of course,’ Becky said.
‘Well, the SS, or the Schutzstaffel, were originally formed as Hitler’s personal guards. One of the men who broke into the Hall today was Otto Kruger, a member of the SS, and one of Hitler’s most brutal bodyguards. He disappeared in 1940 and was never heard of again. Until now, that is…
Chapter 6
A Victorious Revelation
The following morning, Becky stared jadedly at the mountain of eggs and buttered toast Maria had piled high on her plate. She hadn’t slept well; although she hadn’t actually seen Otto Kruger, a shadowy figure visited her dreams time and time again, shattering any chance of a restful night.
At that moment, Uncle Percy breezed into the kitchen; dressed in a single-breasted morning coat and glossy top hat, a walking cane was tucked securely beneath his arm. ‘Morning all,’ he said brightly. ‘Wonderful day, isn’t it?’
Maria glared at him. Joe had told her about the trip to Victorian Oxford and she’d been smashing crockery ever since.
‘Morning.’ Joe glanced up. ‘You look great’
‘Thought I’d better look the part,’ Uncle Percy said, kissing a growling Maria on the cheek. ‘Now, are you both ready to try on your costumes?’
A wave of nausea passed over Becky. Going back in time was one thing but wearing a daft costume was another thing altogether.
Minutes later, Becky and Joe followed Uncle Percy to the morning room where they saw two very different outfits laid out for them. Becky stared at hers with utter horror: a blue and white striped cotton dress, cream bonnet with matching woollen shawl and parasol.
Uncle Percy noticed her shocked expression. ‘Well, Becky. If you want to venture in time, one must dress as others dress.’
‘I AM NOT WEARING THAT!’ Becky roared, as Joe gave a loud snort. She spun round, her fists clenched. ‘I don’t know what you’re laughing at? Those are knickerbockers. You’ll look more like a girl than me.’
Joe shrugged. ‘Don’t care.’
‘Well, if you want to accompany Will and me this is exactly what you will wear,’ Uncle Percy said plainly. ‘It is not open to debate.’
‘Will’s coming?’ Becky asked.
‘Yes.’ Uncle Percy bent forwards and whispered, ‘Between you and me, he’s not particularly happy with his outfit either.’
Just then, Becky heard a shuffling sound. Will entered the room, head down. He wore a brown suit, wide britches and knee-high stockings; his long hair was tied in a bun under a cloth cap and he carried a silver ball handled cane. His sullen expression spoke volumes. Becky choked back a burst of laughter.
‘Ready?’ Will growled.
Uncle Percy winked at Becky. ‘When the children are dressed, William.’
Minutes later, Becky paced her room. As far as she could remember, she’d never worn a dress in her life, and didn’t really want to start with one that made her look like an ice-cream. However, she dearly wanted to see Victorian England and, if this was the price she had to pay, so be it. She began to dress.
As the clock struck eleven, Uncle Percy, Will and Joe gathered at the foot of the entrance hall staircase. Joe wore a black jacket, baggy blue short trousers and a rather gnarled black cap (Gump and Sabian had taken it in turns to nibble at it.) As the clock finished chiming, they heard movement from above and a figure, all in white, stomped noisily down the stairs.
‘If you say a word, I’ll knock you into the middle of next week,’ Becky snarled at Joe, who looked on the verge of giggling.
Uncle Percy’s face, however, shone with pride. ‘You look quite beautiful, my dear.’
‘I look like a bog roll with legs!’
‘No, Miss Becky,’ Will said. ‘You look enchanting.’
Becky felt a sudden rush of blood to her cheeks. Maybe the dress wasn’t so awful, after all.
*
Although an extremely muggy day, the Time Room felt cool and fresh. Becky watched eagerly as Bertha emerged from the lower levels. She turned to Uncle Percy. ‘If we’re only going back a hundred years, what are we going to do with Bertha? She’ll stand out like a sore thumb.’
‘I’m glad you asked me that, Becky. All time machines are equipped with a standard-issue G6 Invisiblator.’ Uncle Percy inserted a small cube of Gerathnium into the back of the vehicle. ‘Observe…’ He withdrew a remote device from his coat pocket and pressed a button marked with the letter ‘I’.
Bertha vanished.
‘Whoa!’ Joe exclaimed.
‘It’s invisible,’ Becky breathed.
‘Indeed.’ Uncle Percy said, rapping his knuckles against where Bertha’s doors used to be. A resounding metallic clank echoed through the room. ‘The effect is achieved using a series of expandent mirrors and nanocameras that record and broadcast the immediate area around the machine. It’s the image playback that gives the illusion of invisibility. It’s rather old technology, but still effective.’ He pressed the button again and the campervan reappeared. ‘Anyway, best make tracks. Next stop - the Ashmolean Museum, Oxford, 19th January, 1900…’
*
Bertha materialised in a narrow side street. Thick snow shrouded the deserted street and a scrawny black cat clawed a dead mouse in the gutter. The cat glanced up at the campervan, temporarily puzzled, but then turned back to its lifeless quarry.
‘Out, please.’ Uncle Percy opened the door and retrieved the remote control from his jacket pocket. ‘Quick as you can.’ He leapt out. Everybody followed.
Straightening his hat, Uncle Percy pressed the Invisiblator button and the campervan disappeared. Pulling out his watch, he turned to the waiting group. ‘It’s due to snow again in precisely forty-eight minutes, so we need to return by then otherwise there’ll be a campervan shaped snowman.’
Becky’s thought that Oxford in Nineteen Hundred didn’t seem much different from any modern city, until they entered the main street and saw a wooden cart, brimming with coal, being drawn by an enormous shire horse. Dozens of people trudged the long, bustling road, some in formal attire, others wearing little more than rags. A red-haired woman with a dirt-stained face shivered on the street corner, clutching a bucket brimming with wilted flowers.
As they trekked through the snow, Becky watched her uncle closely. He was smiling serenely, his eyes absorbing every bit of architectural detail.
A short while, later he stopped and pointed at a very grand building. ‘The Ashmolean Museum.’
Becky glanced at Will. His eyes were bright and alert, flitted in all directions. She noticed he maintained an unusually firm grip on his walking cane.
They entered the museum and Uncle Percy strode to the front desk. Finding it deserted, he slapped a brass bell with his hand. A middle-aged woman scrambled from a door behind the counter. ‘I’m sorry, I just -’
‘No matter, dear lady,’ Uncle Percy said in an uncharacteristically pompous voice. ‘I’m Lord Alfred Harrington from the Royal Academy of Antiquities. I have an appointment with Arthur Evans regarding his recent excavation at Knossos.’
The woman stared at him blankly. Placing her glasses on the tip of her crooked nose, she opened a leather bound volume to her left. ‘You do, sir?’ She studied a page carefully. ‘Lord Harrington, you say? I’m afraid I don’t seem to have- ’
‘Nevermind,’ Uncle Percy said, with a flick of his hand. ‘Arthur and I go way back. It’s this way, isn’t it?’ Before the woman could protest, he led the others down a winding passageway with a succession of wooden doors on e
ither side. Seconds later, they were standing beside a thick door with a gleaming brass sign that read Arthur J Evans, Chief Curator. Uncle Percy knocked vigorously on the door.
Arthur Evans sat behind his mahogany desk, polishing a ceramic figurine with a worn brown cloth. Evans, a slim, affable looking man with short, curly brown hair tinged with flecks of grey and a thick moustache, looked up, surprised. ‘COME IN!’ He set the figurine down.
Uncle Percy opened the door and marched into the room.
Becky noticed a strong smell of stale tobacco as she followed.
Arthur Evans looked up, his eyes widening. ‘Can I help you?’
‘Good morning, Mr Evans,’ Uncle Percy said. ‘I’m Lord Alfred Harrington.’
‘Good morning, Lord Harrington,’ Evans said, slightly bewildered.
‘May I introduce you to my manservant, Shakelock.’ Uncle Percy nodded at Will, who glared back as Becky masked a laugh.
‘And these are my two charges, Rebecca and Joe.’
‘Err, hello,’ Evans replied. ‘I’m afraid I wasn’t expecting you.’
‘Well, you wouldn’t be, Mr Evans. I never make appointments because I never like to break them. Wonderful piece you have there.’ Uncle Percy gestured to the figurine. ‘A Cycladic statuette of Amorgos, unless I’m very much mistaken. One of your finds?’
‘Y-Yes,’ Evans replied. ‘How did you -?’
‘I’m in the game,’ Uncle Percy replied casually, ‘as a matter of fact, that’s why we’re here.’ He pulled out the disk and placed it carefully on the table. ‘I was wondering if you could tell me anything about this.’
Evans’ brow furrowed with disbelief as he picked up the disk. ‘W-w-where did you get this?’ he stammered. He pulled an eyepiece from his jacket pocket and fixed it over his right eye.
‘Cairo. I was leading a dig there.’
‘Cairo, you say?’ Evans said, sounding astonished. ‘But this is amazing. I have an identical piece. It’s at my apartment in London waiting for a metallurgist friend of mine to examine it.’
‘Really?’ Uncle Percy said, feigning surprise. ‘What an astonishing coincidence. And, if I may be so bold, where did you find yours?’
‘At Knossos. On the island of Crete,’ Evans replied, flipping the disk over and allowing his fingers to glide over the surface markings. ‘This is quite remarkable. I thought mine was unique.’
‘Knossos, you say? Where exactly at Knossos?’
‘It was lying on the bed of a lagoon.’
‘How interesting,’ Uncle Percy said. ‘And where was this lagoon?’
Evans removed his eyepiece. ‘I found a tunnel that connects the city of Knossos to the Aegean Sea. Anyway, there were dozens of caves leading from this tunnel, and the lagoon was in the largest of those caves.’
‘Well, isn’t that just fascinating,’ Uncle Percy said.
‘It’s more than that,’ Evans added. ‘I believe the tunnel to be one of my most important discoveries.’ He cleared his throat. ‘You see, I actually believe – well, I believe the tunnel is the site that legend has termed The Labyrinth.’ Evans broke eye contact and focussed rather uncomfortably on his inkwell.
‘The Labyrinth?’ Uncle Percy expressed with genuine interest. ‘As in the fabled location where Theseus killed the Minotaur?’
Becky heard Joe gasp. And she knew why - if memory served, Theseus, one of the fifty Argonauts, accompanied Jason in the search for the Golden Fleece. Could Theseus have actually existed?
‘If you believe that kind of thing, yes.’ Evans replied. ‘That, in fact, is why I’ve named it The Theseus Disk. So you found your disk in Cairo, may I ask where?’
‘In a pyramid,’ Uncle Percy replied, rather unconvincingly. ‘A very small pyramid occupied by a very minor Pharaoh.’
Becky stifled a laugh.
‘Really?’ Evans gushed. ‘Amazing.’
Uncle Percy smiled weakly. ‘Anyway, any ideas as to the origin of your disk?’
‘I’m afraid not,’ Evans said. ‘To my knowledge, these disks are like nothing found before. They bear no physical relation to any civilisation that has existed. The metal is unlike any I’ve encountered. The markings are unique. It’s safe to say these disks may be some of the most important finds in the history of archaeology …’
Becky stared at Evans and felt a sudden, overwhelming pang of guilt. Arthur Evans appeared genuinely thrilled by his own discovery. Yet he would never see that discovery again. He would never learn the disk’s story. He would not be a part of its future.
The Theseus Disk would only ever exist in his memory.
*
Becky, Joe, Will and Uncle Percy retraced their steps down the main road, satisfied expressions on each of their faces. Even Will had become more at ease as they approached the time machine, relaxing his grip significantly on the walking cane.
Joe, in particular, was as animated as Becky had seen him.
‘Theseus was an Argonaut, wasn’t he?’ he said excitedly.
Uncle Percy smiled. ‘According to legend – he most certainly was.’
‘And what was that about a labyrinth?’
Uncle Percy smiled. ‘It’s another Greek myth. Theseus supposedly entered the Labyrinth, a kind of maze, which existed beneath King Minos’ Palace on the island of Crete and fought a creature called the Minotaur, a fearsome beast that terrorised the City Of Knossos.’
‘What type of beast?’
‘A monster with the body of a giant man and the head of a bull,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘The Minotaur was thought to be one of the fiercest beasts of the Ancient world. If you believe that sort of nonsense.’
‘Have you seen one?’
‘No-one’s ever seen one, Joe. They never existed,’ Uncle Percy replied assuredly. ‘I doubt Theseus did either, or any of the so-called Argonauts, for that matter. Stories like this tend to blend fact, fiction, gossip, and good old fashioned codswallop. However, I’ll soon be able to tell you one way or the other.’
‘How?’ Joe asked quickly.
‘Because I’m going there.’
‘To Crete?’ Becky cut in.
‘That’s right.’
‘Can we come, too?’ Becky asked at once. ‘I mean, we’ve established we’re safest with you.’
‘That’s right,’ Joe agreed as if it was the end of the matter.
Uncle Percy looked distinctly troubled as he took the remote from his pocket and activated the Invisiblator. An instant later, Bertha appeared. Taking a pensive breath, Uncle Percy turned slowly to Becky and Joe and said, ‘Well, since you put it like that … and …err, as I would never like to be the one to stand in the way of your classical education, I think we should all make the trip, don’t you?’
*
As a jubilant Becky and Joe followed Uncle Percy into the campervan, not one of them noticed a tall, sallow-faced, middle-aged man with oily black hair concealed by a grey top hat, studying them from across the road. Neither did they see the considerably broader, younger man standing to his left.
The older man’s venomous blue eyes narrowed. Just looking at Percy Halifax sickened him to his core.
‘He did bring the children,’ Otto Kruger said. ‘Just like you said he would.’
‘Of course,’ the older man hissed, watching the campervan disappear. The man didn’t even blink - he’d seen hundreds of time machines in operation. ‘Now, let us pay this ridiculous curator a visit.’
And Otto Kruger’s powerful fingers curled round the pistol nestled in his overcoat pocket.
Chapter 7
The Omega Effect
Becky awoke to find Sabian purring lightly at the foot of her bed. For a moment she lay there recalling the events of the previous day. She rolled to her left, expecting to see Joe in the spare bed moved to her room since the break-in. His bed lay empty. Her first thought was a horrible one - he’d been abducted! She dismissed it at once. Not only had Milly been standing guard all night, but Uncle Percy had installed a variety of elab
orate security systems the night before.
Becky dressed quickly and scoured the upstairs rooms. No sign. Hurrying downstairs, she checked the ground floor rooms. Nothing.
Finally, she entered the kitchen and saw Jacob. ‘Have you seen Joe?’
‘No, Miss Becky.’ His kindly expression changed when he saw her reaction. ‘What’s the matter, child?’
‘Oh, nothing,’ Becky replied. Spying the untouched breakfast on the table, she grew alarmed. Joe never went anywhere without breakfast. Racing out the kitchen, she crossed the path and to her relief saw two figures in the archery field - a boy wielding a bow and the distinctive outline of a three-horned dinosaur. Gump raised his head, strands of grass dangling from his mouth like green spaghetti, and watched Becky stomp over, her arms folded.
‘Why didn’t you tell me you were up?’ Becky snapped.
‘What’s it got to do with you?’
‘I’m your big sister… and that means I’m your boss. And the other day a bunch of nutters trashed our rooms.’ Her face flushed scarlet. ‘SO IT’S GOT EVERYTHING TO DO WITH ME!’
‘I was here. Besides, you were snoring, and I didn’t want to wake you.’ He positioned his fingers on the bowstring, pulled back and released. The arrow landed centre target.
Becky couldn’t help being impressed at the shot. Her temper faded. ‘I don’t snore,’ she muttered. Then a silky voice floated on the air.
‘Your aim is much improved…’
Becky whirled round to see Will emerging from the trees.
‘I’ve still got a long way to go to be as good as you,’ Joe said.
‘In time, young sir, you will better me. Now, before you do each other harm, would you join me in a drink?’
‘Yes, please,’ Joe said.
‘In the tree-house?’ Becky said eagerly. Unlike Joe, she had never visited the tree-house before.
‘Aye,’ Will replied. ‘I’d like you to meet an old friend of mine.’
Becky and Joe looked at each other, puzzled.
‘Who?’ Becky asked curiously.
