Posted by Bowen Cates on 3/26/2008, 2:47 pm
24.207.121.197
Chapter 18: During Which One Tends To Get General The Impression That Our Heroes Are Headed Strait Into a Trap
“Okay Theo.” Lestrade cautioned as she took up her position on the right side of the closed door to Doctor Powell’s laboratory “when I say ‘go’ open the door, got it?”
“Uh…okay” Theodore nodded, trying hard not to faint as the smell leaking from under the door started to waft in his direction growing more and more suffocating with each passing moment.
He couldn’t help but wince when he looked at Lestrade, she was so tense that he thought she must be in a lot of pain. Each muscle seemed to stand out from the skin and a frown of determination obscured her graceful features.
She almost reminded Theodore of a cat...he sniggered under his breath, Holmes the dog and Lestrade the cat…it explained a lot about their behavior toward each other.
“Theo, Theo!” Lestrade kicked him lightly in the shin to get his attention “are you falling asleep or what? I said go!” it was hard to yell at him when she couldn’t talk louder then a whisper.
“Oh, sorry.” Theodore blushed deep red.
She sighed, “Okay, let’s start again”
Theodore lifted his hand so that it was hovering just above the worn metal of the doorknob and took a deep breath.
“Okay, ready”
“One…two…three…GO!” Theodore swung the door open with all his strength and the two burst into the room to find Doctor Powell, with his gigantic shoulders bent over a computer consol, off which he what appeared to be downloading information.
“Freeze!” Lestrade yelled, pointing her ionizer at the back his head.
He swung around, but instead of denying his guilt or becoming violent, as they had expected him to do; he simply pulled up a highly polished metal stool from the desk behind him, and sat down.
All the pomposity which had been evident in his manner when Theodore had first seen him, seemed to have left him as he put his face in his huge leathery hands so that only his carefully combed brown hair was visible.
“I suppose I should have seen this coming a while back.” he sighed, it was hard to understand him as he was speaking through his hands and his voice was exceptionally muffled.
“Put your hands in the air.” Lestrade ordered.
As the scientist did so, Theodore was given a chance to study his face. It was large, and covered in lines, stubble was beginning to appear over his chin and a pair of dark brown eyes, almost the same shade as Theodore’s glinted sadly out of deep tired looking sockets.
The whole impression was one of extreme age and fatigue, in height he was almost a head shorter then Lestrade. However, where bulk was concerned he was huge, muscle seemed to dominate his entire frame and flexed with every movement.
He wore a white lab coat, a white shirt covered in chemical stains, and an ugly orange tie that seemed to stand out rather rudely against its wearers other attire.
He still wore that same pair of trousers that 1800 Holmes had commented upon earlier, which were indeed patched at the knees, although, obviously whoever had done it was a very good tailor.
On his feet were a pair of worn brown shoes, the laces of which were in dire need of replacement.
“I understand why you have come, don’t bother to tell me my rights, it’s my fault, I never should have taken New Scotland Yard into my confidence.” he informed Lestrade in a deep, gruff voice, which sounded as old as his face “just notify my assistant Mr. Bamfield that we are going, I do not want him looking for me all night.”
“Well then, where is he?” The inspector was short on patience.
“He’s just in his office; you can send the boy around to get him.” he offered, indicating Theodore, “it’s the cubical over there by the chemical storage unit.”
Following Powell’s gaze Theodore turned his head until he was looking into the far corner of the laboratory, where a little white, box-like office was indeed partly obscured by a large metal cabinet.
“You okay with that kid?” Lestrade asked, nodding in its general direction as she checked her prisoner’s handcuffs.
“Ya sure, Greg’s a friend of mine.” he assured her.
“Ya I know” she shrugged, taking her hands away from Doctor Powell’s wrists, seemingly satisfied with her work.
Was it just him or had Theodore detected an accusatory tone in that statement of hers?
Trying hard not to look Powell in the eye as he crossed the room and walking over the Greg’s office, he took a deep breath and knocked on the door.
No one opened it.
Theodore waited another minute before repeating the action, louder this time.
Again, no one answered, putting his ear to the door, Theodore could hear crashing and banging, even something that sounded like an ionizer going off.
‘No!’ he thought ‘No!’ there was no way Moriarty could have found out about Greg telling him about Powell! They had been so careful!
Suddenly, he heard a voice cut through the abyss of crashing, it was not one Theodore recognized, but people’s voices sounded different when heard through doors. As it was, it only served to cement his fears.
“Look out! You want her, you're gonna have to go through me!”
Who could Greg be protecting? He needed help, should he call inspector Lestrade? no, that would allow Powell to escape! No wonder he had been so docile, he knew Moriarty was here to help him!
Theodore pounded on the door, and then, unable to restrain himself any longer, he twisted the doorknob, bursting into the room.
Only to see Greg Bamfield, sitting in a large padded desk chair in perfect comfort, his eyes riveted to what Theodore recognized instantly as a television set, very old and dented in numerous places. He realized It would have to be over one hundred years old.
Picture after picture flashed over the screen as a guy in a red jacket stepped in front of a one eyed woman with purple hair, waving his fist madly at the offender which seemed to be some sort of impossibly huge bee…
In fact, now that Theodore had had a chance to cool down and reflect, the show seemed to match perfectly the description of the one Greg had been telling him about when they had first met…
Future mega or future meetings or something like that.
The assistant was pounding his fists into the arms of his chair and yelling at the screen:
“Come on Fry! There’s still time! Save her for zed’s sake!”
The sound on the set was turned up so loud that Theodore was finding it hard to think. He was feeling distinctly hot and a bit angry after having fallen for such an obvious mistake.
“Uh…Greg?” he said, trying to control the emotion in his voice.
He didn’t look up.
“GREG!” Theodore yelled, no wonder he hadn’t heard his boss get arrested. Even if the sound had been turned down, he was so absorbed in his show that he seemed oblivious to everything else around him.
“Huh? What!” he spun around so suddenly that his foot caught on the side of the small table upon which the television set was perched and he fell off his chair in a heap.
Theodore couldn’t help but laugh. “Greg, it’s me, Theodore Trent” he was no longer so mad now that Greg had had a bit of humiliation himself.
“Oh, ya” he blushed, picking himself up off the floor and flipping the ‘off’ switch of the television with a sharp ‘click’. “I know, I was…I was watching a show”
“I noticed” Theodore grinned as the screen went black “was that the one you’re always talking about?”
The intern’s face lit up with pride and he nodded enthusiastically “ya, Futurama, it’s the best zedding show ever, but it’s from way back, like…a hundred years ago or something, I have them all on DVD’s!
“Uh…sounds great” Theodore had never liked TV and so he was not surprised to learn that the show was from his time, even though he had never seen it.
“What are you doin’ here?”
Oh ya, Theodore hadn’t broken the news to him yet. “uh…well, I’m here with inspector Lestrade.”
“Who’s that again?”
“She’s from New Scotland yard, she’s the one who came with 210-I mean Holmes, she came with Mr. Holmes last time,\.” Theodore had to resist the urge to wipe the perspiration from his forehead, that had been too close.
“The one with the brown hair?” Greg asked, running his finger’s through his own, self-consciously.
“Ya, that’s her, any way, we’ve come to uh…well, to tell the truth Greg, She’s here to arrest Doctor Powell.”
Greg just stared.
Theodore was feeling kind of awkward at this particular moment “we don’t have a choice you know, he’s guilty of-” but Greg cut him off.
“Ya” he said, staring at the floor “I thought you might be comin’ for ‘im sooner or later”.
“Well, it isn’t your fault, you just told me the truth.” he was having a hard time controlling his hands, which seemed to be almost desperate to pat the assistant on the back.
“Ya well, he’s bin good to me, a bit cranky sometimes but nothin’ bad, you know?”
“Ya, I know what you mean” Theodore comforted, fighting off memories of his own brother and the last time they had fought, right before-
“Hey Theo!” Lestrade yelled from back in the lab “get back out here! He we haven’t got all day!”
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