by carl ashmore
‘Course,’ Joe said, ‘Dad used to read it to me. It’s an awesome story.’
Uncle Percy continued. ‘Yes, it is. Anyway, as Stonehenge was finished so long ago, before recorded time, no one knows precisely when it was completed, or indeed who completed it.’
‘Couldn’t you just use the time machine and go and get it,’ Becky said.
‘To do that, you would need an exact date, time, location and who it was presented to. I have none of these. Anyway, Bernard believed, as with the popular legend, it was taken to Ancient Greece. But he had no idea as to where or when. So he started investigating more contemporary sources.’
Uncle Percy pulled the book closer. He pressed three letters on the padded cover and the book’s title illuminated red. Suddenly a bookshelf creaked open, exposing a compact wall safe concealed behind it. Becky and Joe looked at each other in astonishment. Uncle Percy approached the safe and typed nine digits into a keypad. The safe door sprang open.
From what little Becky could see, the safe contained tattered documents, an old watch, a necklace, a small non-descript wooden box, rolled up blueprints and other assorted valuables, but Uncle Percy closed the door before she could get a better look. He returned carrying just two items: a scrap of paper and an object wrapped in cloth. He passed Becky the piece of paper. ‘I found this note in Bernard’s pocket.’
A.J E
17 Cromwell Gardens
6768956665
SS?
Uncle Percy studied Becky and Joe’s enthralled faces. ‘I believe A.J.E. to be the initials of the Victorian archaeologist, Arthur John Evans. Now, Evans lived in Oxford, but he did keep a place in London. The address is that of Evans’ apartment in Westminster.’
‘And what about the numbers?’ Becky asked.
‘I believe they’re the combination to his wall safe. To cut a long story short, knowing Evans was in Oxford at the time, I believe Bernard broke into number 17 Cromwell Gardens, found the safe and stole its contents.’
‘And what was in the safe?’ Joe asked eagerly.
Uncle Percy lifted the package. ‘This.’ He removed the cloth to reveal an orange disc about seven inches in diameter.
‘What is it?’ Becky asked, engrossed.
‘I don’t know. The metal is unlike any I’ve seen. The marks, well, they bear no resemblance to anything I can find in history. This disc is a true enigma.’
‘So where did Arthur Evans get it?’ Becky asked.
Uncle Percy shrugged. ‘Much of this is speculation, but I know for a fact that in January 1900 he’d recently returned from an archaeological dig at Knossos on Crete. Perhaps he found it there. Anyway, as well as being an archeologist he was also the curator of Oxford’s world-renowned Ashmolean Museum. And that’s where I’m going tomorrow, to January 16th 1900, to talk to him about it.’
‘Can we come?’ Becky said immediately.
Uncle Percy walked to the far side of the room and stared out of the window.
Becky could see he was struggling to give his consent. ‘We’re involved now, whether you like it or not,’ she said. ‘It was our rooms that were done over.’
Uncle Percy continued gazing into space. As the seconds passed by, Becky glanced anxiously at Joe. Then she watched as her uncle’s mouth edged open. ‘I suppose it may benefit your education to see Victorian England.’
Becky and Joe gaped at each other. They were going on another journey in time, to meet Arthur Evans and to find out about the mysterious disc.
Uncle Percy returned the disc 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?’
‘Er, yeah,’ Becky said sarcastically.
‘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 founding member of the SS, and one of Hitler’s most brutal bodyguards. In fact, Kruger was so notorious for his cruelty, his ruthlessness, and his unwavering loyalty to the Nazi Party he ended up being so powerful he only took orders from Hitler himself. I know for a fact he was personally responsible for sixteen murders on June 30th 1934; a diabolical night in German history infamously known as ‘The Night of The Long Knives.’ Obviously I won’t go into details of his atrocities, but let me just say that even the most high-powered members of the Nazi Party were afraid of Otto Kruger.’
Becky had turned white. ‘So what happened to him? Why is he in our time? And what on earth was he doing tearing our rooms apart?’
‘I’m afraid I can’t answer any of those questions. All I do know is that Otto Kruger disappeared sometime in the summer of 1940 and was never heard of again. Until now, that is…’
- Chapter 11 -
A Victorious Revelation
The following morning, Becky stared jadedly at the mountain of eggs and buttered toast piled high on her plate. She had hardly slept. Despite Uncle Percy’s appeals not to research Kruger, she had found a black and white photo of him on the net and his face had plagued her all night.
At that moment, Uncle Percy breezed into the kitchen dressed in a single-breasted morning coat and glossy black top hat, a walking cane 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 their Uncle to the morning room where they saw two very different outfits laid out for them. Becky stared at hers in horror: a brown and white striped cotton dress, cream bonnet with matching woollen shawl and parasol. Her throat dried up.
Uncle Percy noticed her shock. ‘Well, Becky. If one wishes to venture in time, one must dress as others dress.’
‘I AM NOT WEARING THAT!’ Becky roared, as Joe giggled loudly. She spun round to face him. ‘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 wish to accompany Will and me this is exactly what you will wear,’ Uncle Percy said cheerily. ‘It is not open to debate.’
‘Will’s coming?’ Becky asked.
‘Yes.’ Uncle Percy bent forward and whispered, ‘Between you and me, he’s not particularly happy with his apparel either.’
At that moment 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 muttered.
Uncle Percy winked at Becky. ‘When Becky and Joe 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 a Cornetto. 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 rang eleven, Uncle Percy, Will and Joe gathered at the foot of the staircase in the Entrance Hall. 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 Becky appeared, stomping noisily down the
stairs. She glared at Joe, who was on the verge of laughing. ‘If you say a word, I’ll strangle you with your own knickerbockers.’
Uncle Percy ignored her outburst, his face glittering 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 it was an extremely muggy day, the Time Room felt cool and fresh as an eager Becky watched Bertha emerged from the lower levels. She turned to Uncle Percy, who inserted a small cube of Gerathnium into the time machine. ‘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,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘All time machines are equipped with a standard Invisiblator. Observe…’ He withdrew a device from his trouser pocket and pressed a button marked with the letter ‘I’. At once, Bertha vanished.
‘Whoa!’ Joe exclaimed.
‘It’s invisible,’ Becky panted.
‘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, 16th 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 Invisiblator remote. ‘Quick as you can.’ He leapt out. Everybody followed.
Straightening his hat, Uncle Percy pressed the ‘I’ button and the campervan disappeared. Pulling out his fob 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 first thought was that Victorian Oxford 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 a gigantic 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.
A short while later, Uncle Percy stopped and pointed at a very grand building. ‘The Ashmolean Museum.’
Becky glanced at Will, whose eyes were bright and alert, flitting in all directions. She noticed he maintained an unusually firm grip on his walking cane.
Entering the high doors, Uncle Percy strode purposefully to the front desk. Finding it deserted, he slapped a brass bell, which sent a echoing clang through the large, airy lobby. 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 unusually pompous voice. ‘I’m Colonel Igidor Puffbury from the Royal Academy of Antiquities. I have an appointment with Arthur Evans regarding his recent excavation at Knossos.’
Becky held back a giggle.
The woman stared at Uncle Percy 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. ‘Colonel Puffbury, 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 was leading the others down a winding passageway with a succession of wooden doors on either side. Seconds later, they were standing beside a thick oak door with a polished 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 a thick moustache and short, curly brown hair tinged with flecks of grey, 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. ‘Can I help you?’
‘Good morning, Mr Evans,’ Uncle Percy said. ‘I’m Colonel Igidor Puffbury.’
‘Good morning, Colonel Puffbury,’ Evans said, slightly bewildered.
‘May I introduce you to my manservant, Shakelock.’ Uncle Percy nodded at Will, who glared back at him. ‘And my two charges, Rebecca and Joe.’
‘Hey up,’ Joe grinned.
‘Hiya,’ Becky said.
Evans didn’t really know what to say. ‘Err, hello to you all,’ he said. ‘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. And I’m such a busy fellow I surely would.’ Uncle Percy nodded at the figurine. ‘Wonderful piece you have there. A Cycladic statuette of Amorgos unless I’m very much mistaken. One of your finds?’
‘Y-Yes,’ Evans replied, surprised. ‘How did you -’
‘I’m in the game,’ Uncle Percy said nonchalantly. ‘As a matter of fact, that’s why we’re here.’ He withdrew the disc and positioned it carefully on the table. ‘I was wondering if you could tell me anything about this.’
Evans’ brow furrowed as he picked up the disc. ‘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 disc 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 focused rather uncomfortably on his inkwell.
‘The Labyrinth?’ Uncle Percy expressed with genuine interest. ‘As in the fabled location where Theseus slew the Minotaur?’
Becky heard Joe gasp. And she knew why - if memory served, Theseus was one of the fifty Argonauts that 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 Disc. So you found your disc 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 had to stop herself from laughing.
> ‘Really?’ Evans said. ‘Amazing.’
Uncle Percy smiled weakly. ‘Anyway, any ideas as to the origin of your disc?’
‘I’m afraid not,’ Evans said. ‘To my knowledge, these discs are like nothing found before. They bear no physical relation to any civilisation that has ever existed. The metal is unlike any I’ve encountered. The markings are utterly unique in any cultures I’ve encountered. It’s safe to say this disc, and yours now, of course, may be the some of the most important finds in the history of archaeology.’
Becky stared at Evans and a wave of guilt swept through her. Arthur Evans appeared genuinely thrilled by his discovery. Yet he would never see that discovery again. He would never learn the disc’s story. He would not be a part of its future.
The Theseus Disc would from now on only ever exist in his memory.
*
Becky, Joe, Will and Uncle Percy retraced their steps down the main road, satisfied expressions on their faces. Even Will had become more relaxed as they approached the time machine.
Becky had never seen Joe more animated.
‘Theseus was an Argonaut, wasn’t he?’ Joe said excitedly.
‘According to legend, yes, Joe.’
‘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 and fought a creature called the Minotaur, a fearsome beast that terrorised the city of Knossos.’
‘What type of beast?’ Joe asked.
‘A monster with the body of a 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?’
