Posted by Bowen Cates on 4/10/2008, 2:22 pm, in reply to "Chapter 25"
24.207.121.197
Chapter 26: In Which 1800 Holmes Realizes That Women Are Perhaps Not As Bad As They Seem…Perhaps
Theodore turned to his companion, watching him, the detective’s hands were clenching in and out, in an effort to withstand some unspoken pain; slowly, but surely, his eyes began to regain some of their former awareness of reality, but the pain only continued to worsen.
His face was contorted, and after a time, he shut his eyes tightly against the glare of the green light.
“Mr. Holmes?” Theodore ventured, hoping that the sound of a familiar voice would save him some torment.
“Stay…st…ay back.” He murmured spasmodically.
“I am Mr. Holmes, don’t worry. I’m not even close, it’s okay.” Theodore had to admire the fact that, even during all this, Holmes’ first thought was always for the safety of others.
“Holmes.” Moriarty called across the room, ceasing to pace about as he had been doing for the past five and a half minutes “time to wake up my friend, your audience awaits you.”
The seconds ticked by slowly, until finally the detective began to prop himself up carefully against the wall of the tank.
“Here, Mr. Holmes, let me help you.” Theodore offered.
“Please, Mr. Trent.” He groaned, the pain was obviously no better, and his fever seemed to be disorienting him. “You must maintain your distance.”
“Nonsense Holmes,” assured the master criminal,” Hargreaves will agree that it is now perfectly safe for you to accept assistance from the boy.” He glanced over his shoulder at the scientist.
“It’s alright Mr. Holmes; go ahead, you must be as easy on yourself as you can.”
Theodore did not wait for a reply from the Victorian, but slid across the floor on his knees and took hold of Holmes’ shoulder, easing him back.
“It’s okay, just relax, it’s okay.” Lestrade was attempting to reassure 2103 Holmes, who was now awake and attempting to sit up.
“What…What happened?” He inquired shakily.
“Only the predictable, Holmes,” Moriarty smirked, as the rest of the group, with the exception of Doctor Powell, glared heatedly at him.
2103 Holmes turned to face his companion. “Lestrade, what…what happened to your face?”
She grinned. “You never quit do you? It’s nothing, just a bruise.”
“Yes, I am more then capable of taking into account the realization that a contusion is surrounding the greater part your eye, my question was rather what, or who, had inflicted it.”
He glanced over Lestrade’s shoulder, First at Moriarty, then at his other self in the tank, Theodore was the only one without a clear view of his face at the moment, but from the look of things, he could tell that the detective knew exactly what was about to take place.
Despite the situation, the inspector laughed, she was soon joined by the irregulars. Even Theodore had to smile.
“Yes, yes, highly amusing Holmes, but we are wasting time.” The criminal interrupted; annoyed that he had not succeed in breaking his toys. “FENWICK!” he yelled.
A moment later, the wheezing assistant crept forth from behind a computer consol.
He held in his flaky hand, a remote with two large activation pads upon it. He pressed one of these, his disfigured face crinkling into a disturbing, yellow toothed grin.
All at once, the entire room was filled with a screeching grinding sound, as the floor began to shake.
Wiggins held tight to Deidre and Tennyson, an arm around each as Greg attempted to add more protection to the bundle.
Theodore sat silently, consumed with fear as 1800 Holmes whispered to him quietly between gasps.
“You needn’t fear Mr. Trent, He is merely raising the time machine from an underground facility, Hargreaves has not made use of those area’s for years and so the platform used to relocate the heavier objects is a tad rusted, hence the tremors.”
“How did they get it in here without his knowing?” Theodore asked, his own voice a low murmur.
“They did not; Sir Evan has no doubt been a prisoner in his own house for quite some time, unable to contact us.”
“Oh, right.” Theodore sighed; he was feeling a bit slow on the uptake.
The middle of the lab began to spiral open suddenly to reveal what looked a bit like a small black helicopter cockpit from Theodore’s time that had been stretched at both and had a sleek, flexible aura about it.
It had no lights or indicators on the outside of any kind and he could not even make out the line where the presumed side doors were to open, inside - one could just see outlined through tinted ovular windows – there were two small seats and a huge control pad of varying shapes and dimensions with glowing controls.
There was no steering wheel at all, and one could only assume that you controlled the machine’s path via some of the indicators glowing and then fading by the front driver’s seat.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Moriarty sneered, gazing lovingly at his stolen creation.
Powell was staring at the ground, his face had taken on an even more depressed demeanor, that of guilt, and even worse, shame.
Fenwick ran across to the summoned device, and, after the floor had closed up around it, brushed his hand lightly across outer side of the cockpit, the side of which then suddenly vanished, leaving more then enough space for him to climb inside and begin operating the various controls.
“Now,” announced the master criminal. “Before Fenwick completes his various tasks, I should like to bring two tiny issues to everyone’s attention. The first is that, should any of you attempt to aid your fellow prisoners or anything else of the sort, Silvers, and the twenty six other gentlemen I have at my disposal throughout this facility, will be more then happy to pull that lever on the side of the tank..”
He indicated a small handle protruding from the foundation of the prison.
“Sending five hundred gallons of water with them to their graves.”
He paused for the predicted effect.
“The second point being that I shall now initiate the final stage of my delightful little scheme.” And with that, he took off his watch and dangled his in the air for the entire room to see.
“Five!”
He shouted.
“What’s going on Mr. Holmes?” Theodore pleaded.
“Four!”
His companion did not answer, in fact, Theodore was sure he had just turned a shade paler.
“Three!”
Fenwick cackled menacingly from his seat in the time machine.
“Two!”
Everyone looked at each other, as the guards joined in the henchman’s laughter.
“ONE!”
It was at that precise moment that 2103 Holmes began to scream, it filled the room, erupting from his tortured form, which was flailing in agony in front of Lestrade.
“Ta ta now,” Moriarty yelled over the commotion, I must be on my way, although I must admit, I would have liked to stay and watch.”
With that, he strode across the room, and after completing the same sequence of events as his henchman, slipped into the driver’s seat beside him.
He reached in front of him, flicked his hand across a pulsating purple ambience, and the air was filled with a great throbbing which drowned out even the screams of the detective on the floor.
Then he was gone
A small pile of dust was all that remained of the strange contraption that had once stood there proudly, next to the tank.
Everyone turned their attention back to their friend, Lestrade was trying her best to keep him still, his wound was still hurting him, but the screaming was obviously arising from something Moriarty had implanted in him, which he had either activated, or set to activate on it’s own at a certain time.
“Hargreaves, what do I do?” Theodore could hear the panic in her voice.
“I can’t make a prognosis unless I am able to examine him!”
“Then tell me what to do or something! We can’t just leave him like this!”
Sir Evan nodded, glancing over his shoulder at Silvers and his companions, who were grinning delightedly.
“Put your two fingers on his wrist, try to hold him still, that’s right” he directed “tell me what his pulse is like.”
“Frantic.” The inspector yelled back, “I can’t feel it half the time.”
“Alright, does he have a fever? Check his eyes if you can, are his pupils dilated?”
She fulfilled the ordered task; 2103 Holmes was beginning to lose consciousness again now, his energy slowly sapping its self away in a hopeless struggle of delirium.
“He’s freezing, and his pupils are barely visible!”
“Alright, get him into a sitting position, keep his head up.”
She nodded. “Anything else?”
The doctor shook his head. “You can talk to him, but without access to my equipment there is nothing else to be done.”
As if to accent this, one of the guards - a grizzly looking fellow with greasy black hair and a broken nose - took a large step towards the medical cabinet, and taking out his ionizer, melted the door shut with one long blast.
Theodore turned to 1800 Holmes, his eyes were far away, but he wasn’t looking at himself, writhing on the floor, quite the contrary, his gaze was transfixed upon The irregulars, all huddled together, fighting back the impulse to burst into tears, and on Lestrade, who Theodore had never seen look so desperate.
However, he was definitely most interested in Lestrade; the inspector was holding his other self’s hand, and leaning him gently against her shoulder.
Theodore couldn’t hear what she was saying, as 2103 Holmes’ screams were too loud. But it was obvious that the latter’s counterpart was an exceedingly skilled lip reader.
“What’s she saying?” Theodore asked, aware that his companion might not answer.
Holmes tore his eyes away from the scene, shaking slightly with pain and fever.
“Please.”
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