The Wells Bequest (12 page)

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Authors: Polly Shulman

BOOK: The Wells Bequest
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“Would you—you know—go out with Simon?” I asked. “Because that's what he'll think if you stop him.”

“No, I guess you're right,” said Jaya. “Poor Simon, though.”

After Simon had disappeared over the crest of the hill, Auntie Shanti said, “Let's talk about tomorrow. I have some questions about your plan.”

“Okay,” said Jaya.

“First off,” said Auntie Shanti, “why bother with the mini demo time machine? You could use that same technique to capture the full-size machine instead. After all, the full-size machine should be right there in the laboratory too, going forward into the future. It would be far more useful than the mini model.”

“But we already have the big machine in the repository—not that it works,” said Jaya. “How can it be in two places at once?”

“Of course it can be in two places at once,” said Auntie Shanti. “It's a time machine. That's what time machines
do.

“Oh, right. Duh,” said Jaya, hitting her head.

“I don't want to wrestle the Time Traveller for the full-size machine, do you?” I said. “The Time Traveller is riding the full-size machine. He's not going to just let us take it. The demo is empty. There's nobody at the controls. All we need to do is stop time and grab it.”

“Good point,” said Auntie Shanti. “That brings up my second question. How do you plan to stop time?”

I had been worrying about that myself. But not too much—after all, I
had
seen my future self on the time machine. “I was hoping we'd think of something when we get there,” I said. It sounded pretty lame, but we were bound to come up with something that worked.

“Actually, I have a plan,” said Jaya.

“Great! Tell me!” I said.

“When we get there, I need you to almost kill me.”

“What?!!”

“Choke me or hold a knife to my throat or something. When people almost die, their life flashes in front of their eyes. That's because time slows down and compresses. It should slow down enough for me to grab the mini time machine.”

“No way, Jaya! That's the stupidest plan I've ever heard,” I said, horrified. “It won't work.”

“Why not?” She sounded offended.

“Well, for one thing, there's no way I'm going to choke you or hold a knife to your throat.”

“That's not my plan not working. That's you being too stubborn and wimpy to try it,” said Jaya.

“Not wanting to hurt you is not
wimpy
! But it wouldn't work anyway. You know I would never hurt you! Your life only flashes in front of your eyes when you think you're really going to die, not when you know someone is pretending to try to kill you.”

“All right, fine. I'll use plan B, then.”

“What's plan B?” I asked.

“I can't tell you yet. Or else it might not work.”

“Oh, come on! That's ridiculous. I've told you all
my
plans.”

“No, really. I can't. It depends on the element of surprise,” said Jaya.

Nothing I said would change her mind.

• • •

I did win the fight about who got the guest bed. What with the hard floor, jet lag, excitement, and worry, I didn't get much sleep.

The next day, the three of us headed out after breakfast to the Time Traveller's house. Well, breakfast for me and Jaya—it was lunch for Auntie Shanti. It's five hours later in London, so we'd had some trouble waking up.

Before we'd gone a block, it started to rain, little misty drops that stuck to Jaya's hair like glitter. I turned up my collar and stuck my hands in my pockets.

The Time Traveller's house was big and fancy, made of red brick with white trim. It had an octagonal turret and all sorts of peaks and dormers in the roof. The whole ground floor had been converted to shops: a chocolatier, a yarn shop, and a florist.

The Time Traveller must have made a good living, I thought. Maybe that would be a good career choice for me too: mad scientist in a work of fiction.

I stood on tiptoe and peered over the low garden wall. Behind the house were a glass greenhouse, a shed, and a little building that might have been a stable or carriage house.

“That was his lab, I bet,” said Jaya.

“We want what used to be the parlor,” said Jaya. “Which one do you think that is?”

“The chocolatier, I should think,” said Auntie Shanti. “With the bow window.”

“All right,” said Jaya. “Here's the plan. I'll stop time. Leo, right away—the
instant
it stops—you grab the time machine and switch it off. Pull the lever upright. Perfectly straight up and down. Make sure you get the lever that's sending it into the future, not the one that would send it into the past!”

“I know,” I said. “I read the book too. And I saw myself using it, remember?”

“All right, just making sure you know what to do. Meanwhile, Auntie Shanti, you distract the shopkeeper and whoever else is in there. Buy some chocolate or something. Make a fuss. Can you do that?”

“Oh yes, I think I can manage,” said Auntie Shanti. “I'm rather good at buying chocolate.”

“We need a bag or something to put the time machine in,” I said. “It's going to be pretty distinctive looking—it glitters. We don't want people wondering what it is and where it came from.”

“Half a sec,” said Auntie Shanti, rooting in her purse. She pulled out a folded plastic shopping bag that said
Fortnum & Mason.
“Will that do?”

“Perfect. Thanks.”

“I'd better take that,” said Jaya. “Okay, here goes.” She opened the door. A bell tinkled as we stepped into a cool room smelling of chocolate.

• • •

There were plaster flowers on the ceiling. Shelves piled with fancy candy tins lined the walls. A long glass counter ran along one side with trays of chocolate laid out in rows, which made them look more like jewelry than something you'd eat. Aside from a saleswoman standing behind the counter, we were alone in the shop.

“May I help you?” asked the saleswoman.

“Yes, please,” said Auntie Shanti. “I need—oh, shall we say five hundred grams of chocolates? They're for my sister. She's quite particular. Have you got anything from Madagascar?”

“Yes, let me show you our single-estate bars,” said the saleswoman. “They're very popular.”

“Oh, no, that won't do,” said Auntie Shanti. “My sister loathes anything popular. What's your worst seller?”

“I think you must mean our most exclusive collection,” said the saleswoman.

“Quite,” said Auntie Shanti.

“Perhaps your sister would enjoy our florals?” suggested the saleswoman.

“Nasturtium and borage—with chocolate? Really? I can see why they're . . . exclusive,” said Auntie Shanti.

“Indeed. Would you care for a taste?” offered the saleswoman. Auntie Shanti wrinkled her nose but nodded.

Meanwhile, Jaya had been looking around the room. “The demo time machine should be near the fireplace,” she said.

I followed her across the room to a marble fireplace with long chocolate boxes stacked in it like logs. Jaya pointed to a spot by her feet. “In the book, Wells says the demo was sitting on a little octagonal table in front of the fire, ‘with two legs on the hearth rug.' So that should be right here.”

“There's no table there now, though. Do you think the demo would have fallen down? Or will it be standing in mid-air?” I asked.

“I'm not sure,” said Jaya. “If it's not on the floor, get ready to catch it.” She glanced around. Auntie Shanti and the saleswoman were deep in conversation, inspecting boxes of candy. “Remember, grab the lever the
absolute second
time stops,” said Jaya. “Don't wait! We won't have long.”

“Yes, yes, I know,” I said. “Hurry up and do whatever you're going to do, before the saleswoman notices us.”

“Okay. Here goes.” Jaya took a deep breath.

Then she leaned forward and kissed me.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Jaya Stops Time

T
ime stopped.

For a split second—or maybe forever, I couldn't quite tell—the world vanished. My heart pounded. There was nothing but me and Jaya and the kiss. Despite a strange, sharp pain in my left shin, I felt like I might explode with joy.

The sharp pain in my left shin got sharper. It was Jaya kicking me.

The reason the world had vanished, I discovered, was that I had closed my eyes. I opened them. Right in front of me, at waist height, something shimmered, complex and brassy. The time machine!

Like a frog snapping a fly out of the air, I reached out, grabbed the lever, and pulled it upright.

My movement broke the spell. Jaya let go of me, the kiss ended, time started up again, and the tiny time machine thudded onto my toes.

“Leo!” hissed Jaya. “You were supposed to catch it! Is it broken?”

“I hope not!”

I handed it to Jaya. She bundled it into the Fortnum & Mason bag.

The saleswoman had heard the thump and turned around. “Did you drop something?” she asked.

“My gram's clock,” said Jaya. “We're taking it to be repaired.” She pulled down the plastic so that the top of the time machine peeked out. It did look like a clock. “Are you done yet, Auntie?”

“Almost. I think I
will
take those florals, please. Two hundred fifty grams,” said Auntie Shanti.

The woman filled a box with brown lumps. “Will that be all?”

“Yes, I think so—or no, shall we get some rose creams for your mum, Jaya?”

“I think she'd like the ginger better,” said Jaya. She muttered to me, “I know
I
would.”

“Two hundred fifty grams of the chocolate ginger as well, then. And that's the lot,” said Auntie Shanti.

• • •

I walked down the front steps to the pavement, twitching and zinging with excitement. Jaya had kissed me! I'd found the time machine!

Auntie Shanti paused at the bottom of the steps. “How did you manage it? Stopping time, I mean,” she asked.

Jaya looked embarrassed. “I used the subjective startle effect,” she said a little stiffly. “I induced a moment of emotional anomaly, altering Leo's experience of relative temporality.”

“Emotional anomaly?” Auntie Shanti sounded puzzled. Then comprehension washed across her face. “You didn't! Little Jaya! Don't tell me you—”

She broke off and looked at me. I blushed.

“Well,” said Auntie Shanti with a laugh, “whatever works!”

“Jaya!” called a voice on the street behind us.

I whipped around. There stood Simon FitzHenry in all his reddish-blond hatefulness.

“Simon!” I growled. “Are you following us?”

He ignored me. “What are you doing here, Jaya?” he asked.

“Visiting my aunt, like I told you. Buying chocolate. What are
you
doing here?”

“You're buying
chocolate
? At the Time Traveller's house?” His voice dripped with incredulity.

“Oh, is this the Time Traveller's house?” Jaya sounded almost innocent. “We came for chocolate.”

“You know perfectly well it is. What are you up to?”

“Buying chocolate, like I just said. What are
you
doing here? Are you buying chocolate too, or is this just another really unlikely coincidence?”

“I've been tracking your movements with the Burton's people finder,” said Simon.

I could see Jaya's pity turning into anger. “You disgusting sneak! You've been
spying
on me?”

“I'm not spying, just . . . watching. I couldn't bear things the way we left them. I couldn't bear not knowing where you were.”

“You're
stalking
me!”

“When you showed up in London last night, I thought you'd come to see me. But I was wrong. And then today, when you went to the Time Traveller's house, I knew why you must be here! To try to recapture the time machine! But I
need
it. Where is it? Did you get it?”

“Don't be ridiculous. Do you see a time machine here?” said Jaya. “That thing's the size of an armchair.”

“You could have hidden it in the house. Or made it invisible.”

“Well, I didn't. And if I had it, there's no way I would ever give it to
you,
” said Jaya.

Simon narrowed his flinty little eyes. “I wouldn't taunt the man who controls Tesla's death ray, Jaya.”

“What death ray? Tesla never built one. And even if he had, why would
you
have it?”

“My grandmother's grandfather worked in Tesla's lab, remember? He sailed for England the night the lab burned down. He took three chests of plans and models with him.”

“Oh, so your grandmother's grandfather was a cheat too? It figures.”

“Please, Jaya,” said Simon. “I don't want to hurt you. If you have the time machine, let me use it. I need to go back to last month and fix my mistake so you won't hate me and we can be together.” His voice shook. I almost pitied him.

“Go away, Simon. Your little plan isn't going to work,” Jaya told him.

“Please, Jaya! Don't make me use the death ray!”

I stepped in front of Simon and looked him straight in the eyes. The guy was really sounding crazy!

Simon stopped, surprised.

“Get . . . out . . . of . . . here . . .
now,
” I said. My voice felt different—it had never before sounded that controlled and intimidating. “And stop threatening Jaya.
Do you understand me?
” My fingers tightened into fists.

Simon looked down at my hands. My eyes never left his face. He began to tense up.

Auntie Shanti put her hand on my right arm. I lowered it slowly.

“That's enough, Simon,” she said. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself. Leave us alone, or I'll make sure Dr. Pemberley-Potts hears about this.”

“You're making a mistake. You'll see.” With a last glare at Jaya and me, Simon stalked away down the street.

• • •

It takes a moment to recover from that kind of anger. We all stood there silently. Then what Simon had said sank in.

“Does Simon really have a death ray?” I asked. “The histories all say Tesla never finished inventing it.”

“But his lab burned down,” said Jaya. “Lots of his inventions got lost. Maybe the death ray was one of them—maybe Simon's ancestor really did steal the plans for it before the fire.”

“Highly unlikely,” said Auntie Shanti. “I've known Simon's father for years—we're both on the Burton's board—and he's never mentioned it. He's not what you'd call modest. Though I suppose even he might hesitate to boast about owning weapons of mass destruction.”

“Well, let's not stand here in the rain,” said Jaya. “After that ordeal, I need a crumpet.”

“I can carry the time machine, Jaya,” I offered. She handed it to me.

“There's a good tea shop around the corner,” said Auntie Shanti, leading the way.

• • •

The waitress pointed us to a tiny table by the window.

“That whole thing with Simon was really disturbing,” said Jaya.

Auntie Shanti frowned. “Not here,” she said, glancing around at the crowded tea shop.

“You're right,” said Jaya. She changed the subject: “What do you hear from Meena and the boys?”

While Jaya and her aunt discussed family matters, I spaced out and thought about the confrontation with Simon, the time machine, and the kiss. What was Simon capable of? I wondered. How much danger was Jaya in? And what could I do to protect her? But mostly, I wondered about the kiss. What did it mean? Did Jaya . . . like me? I mean, she obviously liked me, but did she like me the way you like someone you kiss? Or did she just know
I
liked
her
?

She'd kissed me for a reason: to make time stop. Obviously time wouldn't stop for just any old kiss. Her kiss was amazing. Nothing remotely like what had happened when I kissed Rachel Mintz in sixth grade. Clearly it had to be with someone you felt strongly about.

Had time stopped for Jaya or just for me? I opened my mouth to ask, then shut it again. I couldn't possibly ask her a question like that.

If the kiss wasn't real for her, then there was something sad about being kissed by the most awesome girl in the known universe for a reason that had nothing to do with how she felt about me.

Well, at least we had gotten a time machine out of it. I felt for it with my toes to reassure myself it was still under my chair, which made me jostle Jaya with my knee.

She smiled and jostled me back. “Sorry, we're being rude,” she said. “How's your scone?”

“It's great. Want a bite?”

I held out my scone and she bit it. I watched her lick clotted cream off the corner of her mouth and wished I could do it for her.

• • •

Back at Auntie Shanti's apartment we shook rain off our jackets.

“Let's have a look at it, shall we?” said Auntie Shanti.

I pulled the demo time machine out of the Fortnum's bag. The fall didn't seem to have hurt it. Nothing was bent or broken.

“It's very detailed for a model. I love these little lion-paw feet,” said Auntie Shanti.

Jaya touched a bar with her fingertip. “Is this supposed to be twinkling like that? The big one doesn't twinkle.”

“It's supposed to. At least, that's how H. G. Wells describes it in the book,” I said.

“Now what?” asked Auntie Shanti. “Care for a spot of sightseeing, you two? Or would you rather take the model back to New York right away?”

“I've always wanted to see the Tower of London. And Kew Gardens. And I'm curious about the Burton Repository, of course,” I said. “But what I really want to do is try out the time machine!”

“The Tower of London would be super-fun with a time machine,” said Jaya. “But I don't want to risk Simon finding us again. We should get it home.”

“Pity, but I expect you're right,” said Auntie Shanti. “Better pack your things, then.”

I didn't have much to pack. I shoved my dirty clothes in the bottom of my backpack for padding, then wrapped the model time machine in my last clean T-shirt and tucked it away too.

“So how are we getting home, Auntie?” asked Jaya, coming back with her bag. “The dissolution transporter we used to get here is back in New York. Do you have one here?”

“No, and even if we did, we shouldn't use it on the time machine. It's never a good idea to use objects of power on each other without testing them first. Who knows what damage we might do.”

“How will we go, then? Are there jet packs?”

Auntie Shanti shook her head. “I thought we would take the
Épouvante.

“What's that?” I asked.

“From Jules Verne's
Master of the World,
” she explained. “In English, it's the
Terror.

“That sounds ominous.”

“It's not ominous, it's awesome. It's a land-air-sea sub-ship,” said Jaya. “But isn't it in the Phénoménothèque in Paris?”

“Usually, but it's here on inter-repository loan. Jane Random and I took it on holiday to Minorca two weeks ago. I might as well run you over before we return it—that way I can have a nice visit with your mum and dad.”

“Great! Where is it? Can I drive?”

“It's in the river. Leo will get his wish to see Kew Gardens—we'll be passing beside them on our way to the Channel.”

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