TimeTravel Adventures of The 1800 Club [Book 12]
Page 8
After locking the garden gate Bill took out his Time Frequency Modulator and shielding it from Watson entered in: SAMSON, then JUNE 2, 2015 10:57 a.m. Using the same key that he had locked the gate with Bill opened the security door and placed both pieces of luggage inside before stepping aside to allow his visitors in. He followed and as they started up the stairs he pressed the activate button on his TFM.
DATELINE: JUNE 2, 2015 PLACE:, THE 1800 CLUB, NEW YORK CITY
At the landing he turned to Watson as he unlocked his door and said, “We often use the garden entrance as it takes me directly to my den.” Hearing scratching on the door he quickly added, “Oh, and I do hope that you like dogs, Watson. He’s friendly and will give you the sniff-over test.”
“I absolutely adore dogs and am quite upset that my landlady refuses to have them in her apartment building.”
The door opened and his beagle ran past Bill and Watson and greeted Shirley with howls as he pranced around her.
“Well,” ad libbed Bill, “I guess he remembers Shirley.”
They walked through the den to the small alcove where Matt had put out tea and finger sandwiches. Bill trotted back down and brought up their luggage. As he reentered the alcove he saw that Matt had remembered to pull the dark red drapes closed and as in homes of 1898 it was the oil lamps that fought back the dark.
“Let me show you to your rooms so that you may freshen up.” Bill picked up Shirley’s luggage and Watson hefted his own as Bill opened the door. They followed him into the long hallway and he said as they stopped near the first room, “Shirley, as usual this is your room.” He put her luggage inside the room and pointed to the next door and said, “This is yours, Watson. If you need anything please just ask. I’ll be in the alcove when you are ready.”
Watson walked over to the dimly lit oil lamp and raised its wick to illuminate the room. Once again he was stunned by the rooms opulence. The main piece of furniture was the four-poster bed with a light blue silk bed cover that reached the floor. At the foot of the bed was a bench type seat with a light blue cushion. On either side of the bed was a small mahogany two-drawer table with a tall candle in a silver holder with a round back to reflect its light. Opposite the bed was a rich-brown three-drawer 1857 Victorian cherry dresser-vanity that had a triple mirror and while the larger center mirror was stationary the two smaller wing mirrors could be swung in to see the side of a person’s face. The six pulls on the drawers were round steel rings and the four legs were carved to resemble sleeping birds.
Opening a door next to the bed Watson found a spacious closet and opening another at the end of the room showed him the room’s private bathroom. White tiles covered the floor while light blue tiles covered the four walls. At the end of the room was a freestanding bathtub and shower combination. Just inside of the door stood a cabinet with a sink inserted into the white marble top and a wall-mounted kerosene lamp on either side of the mirror mounted above the sink. The large mirror itself was set in a three-inch wide white marble frame. Lastly, Watson walked over to the toilet and gingerly lifted the lid, grinned, closed it and said to himself, “Wonderful, no bidet!” He washed up and five minutes later tapped on Shirley’s door.
“Are you ready, Shirley?” Her answer was to open the door and with a smile said, “Yes. How do you like your room?”
He shook his head and whispered, “My word, it is as good as the best hotel room on the continent.”
“I know,” she said with the same smile. “Shall we join Bill?”
They reentered the alcove to see Bill closing the blinds after he obviously had been looking out the windows.
“Bill,” said Watson, “It is such a grand day, why not allow the sunlight in?”
Bill made a face as he answered, “Aww, the windows are dirty right now. I hope you found your room to your liking?”
Just then Matt entered and Shirley ran to him and much to Bill, Watson and Matt’s surprise, hugged him. “Matt, how have you been?” she asked.
“Just fine, Miss Shirley,” said a red faced Matt. “I wondered if there was enough food?”
“Do I detect an Englishman’s tongue?” asked Watson.
Matt nodded slightly, “Ah, yes, indeed, sir. London to be exact.”
“As are we,” added Watson.
“Yes sir, I’ve had the pleasure of meeting Miss Shirley before.”
Shirley entered the conversation, “Doctor John Watson, Matt Worthington.”
Matt glanced quickly at Bill as Watson put out his hand. Bill winked at him and Matt shook his hand. “It is my pleasure to meet you, Doctor.” He turned to Bill and added, “I must see to dinner. I trust that all is fine with this setting, sir?”
“Yes, Matt. Thank you very much.”
Matt left the room and Bill pulled out a chair for Shirley as Watson sat with his back to the windows. Bill sat as Shirley poured their tea.
“I must say, Bill,” said Watson as he looked around, “you have a beautiful home here.”
“Thank you, Watson. My friend and right-hand-man Matt, who you just met has much to do with that. He’s the best!”
The doctor nodded as he went on, “Yes. You Americans do treat your staff well. Something that I feel should be copied by other countries.”
Shirley held her cup of tea up and said, “Here’s to our visit.”
Both men joined her in her toast.
All took a sandwich and after a bite Bill said, “”I’m so glad that you could make the trip, Watson.”
Glad to get a chance to talk about his invitation, Watson took a sip of tea and said, “Well to be quite honest, Bill, the letter you sent me gave me no option but to come.”
Bill sat back, nodded his head and said in a low serious tone of voice, “To be quite honest with you, my friend, it was designed to do just that.”
“But why? If there was no letter I might have come over anyway.”
“Bill looked at him quietly for a moment, took a sip of tea then asked, “Would you?”
Watson shrugged and admitted, “No, most probably not.”
“And that’s why I sent the letter hoping that the content would intrigue you enough to accept my invitation and come over.”
“Intrigue me? My word, dear sir!” He took out the letter from his inside jacket pocket and continued, “The content of this letter tells me that your medical people are so much more advanced than any country in, in, well, in the world! How could they have achieved this without anyone ever learning that they were even working on it? And, yes I am here because of it so your plan worked. Now, will you reveal more to me?”
“Of course I will.”
Watson sat forward and asked the key question: “Why?”
“Why?” asked Bill suddenly realizing that Shirley was staring at him as well.
“Yes. Why would you reveal this to me? Why not simply invite the top medical people from all over the world to hear of this wonderful breakthrough that will help millions of people all over the world? Again I ask sir, why me: a small-time doctor from London, England?”
Bill looked at Shirley and asked, “Honey, can he handle it?”
Knowing what Bill was talking about she nodded as she bit her lower lip and crossed her fingers.
A perplexed Watson sat back and asked, “Handle what?” he looked at Shirley, “Pray tell, Shirley what part is it that you play in this?”
“She had no part in my inviting you, Watson. I simply needed to know if you are a visionary.”
“A visionary? Well, of course I am. Did she not tell you of our unique arrangement with Scotland Yard? Why if I were a typical London doctor I would be home every evening eating beef and pudding rather than not only helping solve dastardly cases but also pulling the wool over the eyes of the world famous Scotland Yard by introducing Shirley as a man: Sherlock!”
Bill grinned, “I had faith in you from the start, Watson. But this might be the one that shakes your faith in believing your own eyes.”
Watson took another sip and said as he pla
yed with the tips of his mustache, “Shirley, believe me when I say that this is no slight on you, but what is it that makes your fiancé believe that I might have a hard time believing something that he has obviously showed you already?”
Shirley looked at Bill then at Watson, “What Bill wants to know is if you can believe something that we have been taught is only in science fiction books.”
Seeing a look of puzzlement come across the doctor’s face, Bill spoke up. “What if I told you that this building that we are in has the ability to travel in time?”
Watson smiled broadly as he shook his head. “Sorry. That would be hard to believe. Care to try another?”
Bill sat closer to the table and asked, “What is today’s date, Watson?”
“Why, it’s June 2.”
“What year?”
“1898.”
Bill shook his head and said, “And if it were 2015, would you be able to accept that?”
Once again Watson’s face broke into a huge grin. “2015 you say? And would I be able to handle that?” He shrugged his shoulders and went on, “If it was 2015 and Shirley accepted that, why should I not accept it? However, if it were 2015, one would imagine that simply opening the drapes might allow us to see things that only a science fiction writer might see. But as you stated the drapes are closed because of dirty windows. Very convenient.”
Bill stood and walked to the window facing south and took hold of the drapes as he said, “The dirty window excuse was to keep you from seeing futuristic things before we had our talk. Now . . .” Bill pulled open the two drapes and sunlight flooded the room causing Watson to squint. He stood and walked to the window still shielding his eyes. His eyes slowly adjusted to the bright sunlight and suddenly they opened wider as his mouth fell open. Some of the tallest buildings in the world were there before his eyes and many more had iron beams shooting up past them as construction continued. Hundreds of cars and busses jammed the people-filled streets below for as far as the land went then tankers and other types of ships filled the waters around the city.
“My word!” he whispered, “How can this be? Why just recently I was looking at a periodical in my office and saw a rendering of New York City and it looked nothing like this!”
An aircraft that took off from JFK airport left a slight trail of white condensation from its wingtips and that was when Watson steadied himself by placing a hand on the wall. “My word! My word, indeed! How did we get from 1898 to 2015? I felt nothing different.” He felt his face, “Am I now over one hundred years of age?” He held his temple and said as he went back to his seat, “Lord, I have so many questions.” He looked up at Bill and asked, “Might I see an operation in a medical facility?”
“I’m sure I can arrange it.’
Watson took a gulp of his tea and went on, “Shirley, you knew and didn’t tell me?”
She nodded, “Yes. But, my dear friend would you have believed me if I told you?”
He shook his head no and looked out the window again. “Those buildings . . . so tall! How can an upper floor occupant get to their flat?”
Bill answered, “Elevators take them up to their floors, Watson.”
“I’m familiar with elevators or lifts as we say and I know that the American Surety Building has 23 floors and at least one lift, but these other buildings seem to have fifty or more. Fantastic!” He looked at Bill and said, “Bill, once again I ask, why? What is the purpose of bringing me here and showing me all of this?”
Bill looked at him then at Shirley who also wanted to hear his answer. “Look, let’s finish lunch and we can talk in my den. Agreed?”
Both nodded and Shirley poured another cup of tea for the three of them.
Thirty minutes later Bill sat on the large leather couch next to Shirley with Samson on her other side while Watson sat on one of the easy chairs facing them. Both looked at the silver cylinder Bill was handling as he spoke.
“Doctor Watson, the main reason that this building has the ability to travel in time is so that should we discover an important event in history going wrong, we can go back and fix it. We have a small group of members in our club that can do this, myself included. They can do this because they are specialists in various jobs and it is my job to take a member with a particular specialty and send them back and fix that event in history and make it right.”
“That-that is nothing but fantastic!” said Watson as he sat on the edge of his seat.
“Now,” said Bill, “Would you both agree that Lord Nelson was one of the best if not the best defender of the British Isles?”
Both nodded as Watson added, “Absolutely the number one defender of Britain! Many say that if not for him we would be speaking French. I walk past his column every evening as I walk to my flat. Quite impressive!”
“Well as you both know he was killed during the Battle of Trafalgar.”
Both nodded.
“Well I have what we call a hologram which is like a moment in time that we can see on my coffee table. It’s the real Battle of Trafalgar and as you both know it was a bloody battle. I have to warn you that it is not for the faint-of-heart but I do believe that you both have seen some pretty gruesome crime scenes yourselves.” He looked at them and Shirley squeezed his hand as he activated the hologram.
Once again both fleets came to life on his 1854 Victorian Parlor table. The white and light blue veined marble insert seemed to give the look of a stage that the hologram played out upon especially if it was a water scene as it looked as though it was going to run off the edge of the table.
As both Bill and Shirley had seen holograms before, it was only Watson who looked with wide eyes as his history unfolded before him. He jumped a few times as the French and Spanish ships fired ranging shots at their oncoming enemy, the British Fleet.
Both Watson and Shirley knew how Nelson pressed on towards the middle of the enemy fleet and broke through to destroy them. They also knew that a French sharpshooter shot the famous admiral after they broke through the line of ships so when the close-up appeared of Nelson getting hit by an enemy cannonball before the break in the line, they both recoiled. And when the British Fleet changed their plan of attack and lined up next to their more numerous enemies for a traditional battle they both shouted “No!” The rest of the melee showed the French and Spanish warships besting the English as the sun dipped below the horizon.
There was a momentary delay then the hologram showed what both knew as Trafalgar Square. It took a few moments to understand what the hologram was showing as they had both seen Nelson’s Column so many times before. The hologram panned on the crowd before settling on the monument and zooming in to show the statue of Bonaparte Napoleon.
Bill heard a gasp from both as the hologram ended.
“Would you like a glass of wine or perhaps something stronger?”
“Wine for me, Bill,” said Shirley.
Watson stood and with his hands deep in his pockets said as he paced the floor for a few seconds, “I can’t believe this! First you say that we are in the future and then you show me a-a moving illustration of Lord Nelson and say he lost Britain’s greatest sea battle. This is so unbelievable!” He stopped pacing, sat, shook his head and said, “Would you have any gin, Bill?”
“Yes, and I’ll join you.”
The three sat with their drinks and Watson said as he lifted his glass, “To Lord Nelson.”
Both answered, “To Nelson.” They took a sip and Watson asked, “So, with this time travel thing what do you do now? Go back and stop the French from shooting at his ship or something?”
Bill shook his head, “Not that easy. Sure we can go back but then what? Join the British Navy and tell Nelson to step aside and let the shot fly by? And there’s no way we can go back and join the French Navy either; too many variables, not to mention the language. No, we need to put one of our people aboard Nelson’s ship and get the admiral to step aside at the exact moment that the cannonball flies down the center of the ship.”
Bill rubbed his chin, “What about one of ‘yesterdays’ men?”
“You mean,” asked Watson as he swished the gin around in his glass, “go back and recruit a seaman from Nelson’s time?” He nodded, “That might do it.”
“And,” asked Shirley, “how does this recruited seaman know exactly when to have the admiral step aside?”
“Why,” quipped Watson, “with a pocket watch of course.”
“And does an everyday seaman carry a pocket watch in 1805? And if he does would not an officer get upset with an ordinarily seaman stopping whatever he is doing and whipping out a James Douglass of Chertsey pocket watch to check for the correct time?”
Watson shrugged his shoulders and answered, “Well if he was recruited to do that, then he would have to complete the job he was sent to do.”
Bill shook his head, “Pretty simple answer. However, as you know in real life a hundred things could happen that might stop an everyday 1805 sailor from doing his duty. Especially with officers walking around and cannonballs flying at them. I don’t believe that he would stop and take out his pocket watch to check the time.”
“Plus,” added Shirley, “he most probably would have to check the time a few times before he must make his move adding to his chances of being seen by an officer.”
“And,” added Bill, “what action would he take at the correct time? Ask the admiral to duck or step to the right or left? No. Let’s face it. Seamen aboard an 1805 man-of-war were used for one thing only: to get the job done and anything else would arouse suspicion. I imagine after checking his pocket watch once it would be taken from him as a hindrance to his job aboard ship.”
“Mmm,” said Watson as he pulled on his gray mustache, “then the answer is that it must be an officer as he would be able to have and check a pocket watch without raising suspicions.”