Edward Graves: Temporal Detective

“Keep your eyes closed,” Edward said as the blue light around them began to abate. “This is your first trip into the future and that’s a very special moment that only comes once.” Jessica could feel the resonance of her body slow down as she began to return to regular space-time. Her feet touched the ground again - grass she was pretty sure - as weight returned to her body. She could feel the warmth of the sun on her face and the insides of her eyelids turned red from the light. A cold chill danced around her body and she was thankful for her cardigan and stockings.

“You are now standing in another country, nearly a whole millennium from when you were born.” Edward spoke with a smile in his voice, his excitement barely contained.

Jessica moved a foot forward and felt the alien grass crush beneath her feet, heard the sound of thousands of tiny ice crystals shattering with the blades. She drew a deep breath. The air was cold and tasted different somehow, felt different in her lungs. It carried indistinct scents which were unfamiliar to her. She exhaled and could feel frost clinging to her breath.

“The air,” she said, “it’s different somehow; it’s fresher; cleaner.”

“Air Filters,” said Edward. “By the 24th Century the atmosphere was so toxic that it was dangerous to walk around outside for more than two or three hours without a mask. There was a global effort to build dozens of large air purifiers, powered by clean Fusion Reactors, situated around the globe at strategic points to clean the air. The air that you’re breathing is cleaner than it’s been in over twelve-hundred years.”

She could hear a cachophony of sounds - birdsong, some casual chatter and the low humming of engines of some sort, gliding by every once in a while.

“Are you ready?” asked Edward. “Ready to see the future?” She could practically hear him smiling ear to ear.

Jessica nodded lightly and she felt Edward’s hands press softly on her shoulders, she could sense his head right next to hers.

“Open your eyes,” he said softly, “and see.”

Jessica thought that she had readied herself for the culture shock which was in store for her, but she soon realised that nothing could prepare her for the reality before her.

“Oh my God,” she said softly.

“What do you think?”

Jessica just stared, slack-jawed, for a moment and then said, “It’s beautiful!”

It was like something out of a dream. They were atop a small hill in a park; a vast park covered in frost, so that the grass and trees, coloured in shades of green, were also flecked with dazzling white that glinted in the sun. Above their heads, small, sleek vehicles sliced silently through the air with majestic ease, criss-crossing above and below one another with an intricate rhythm. The air rippled softly behind them, leaving subtle trails of silver or rainbow coloured light. Further above the sky traffic, the sun blazed with an odd, warbling and distorted radiance.

Ahead of them, sat upon another small hill, was what looked like a gigantic snow globe. It was a glass dome about five or six kilometres in diameter and inside it stood what could only be described as a tower, or group of towers of different heights, piercing through the sky towards the roof of the dome.

“It’s a New Neo-Classical-Modernist design,” said Edward, “a popular architectural movement in the 23rd Century, with a bit of a revival in the 24th Century, all towers and spires and whatnot. The dome was a product of the time, for a time all buildings used to have their own sealed off air supply.”

Jessica just nodded and then she smiled and then she squealed and gave Edward a huge hug. “Thank you!” She said. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Edward’s arms flailed and his back clenched, “Ah,” he gasped, “you’re welcome.”

“I always thought that we’d pretty much screwed up the planet; that we wouldn’t survive another hundred years, let a one a thousand. Or if we did then it’d be some sort of Dystopian Apocalypse or something, so thank you Edward, thank you so very much.” A tear actually formed in the corner of her eye.

“That’s just it Jessica,” he said as she released him, “that’s exactly what makes this period so special. This is the other side Jessica. Humanity went through some terrible times, Global Warming, Ozone depletion, pollution, several World Wars, overpopulation, but then you know what? We made it through, we found a way. The planet is slowly returning to normal, off-world colonisations is finally easing the congestion on Earth and a new era of cultural, spiritual and scientific enlightenment has begun. This is the light at the end.”

“That’s beautiful,” she said. She just stared down at the beautiful expanse before her and smiled.

“Well,” said Edward, are we going to stand up here all day or are we going to take a closer look?” He held out his hand. Jessica smiled and grabbed onto it then, both grinning, they ran down the hill towards the Museum.

It seemed that every step she took, revealed a new wonder to Jessica. The path that they followed was lined with flags that advertised the museum, but upon closer inspection, she realised that they were holographic and a trail of pixels sprinkled from their ends as they waved in the breeze. The silver park benches, she noticed, were actually hovering, staying in a fixed position, save for when somebody sat down or got up, when they would sink or rise ever so slightly.

Though, the people themselves weren’t as different as she expected. Many were dressed in slim-fitting jackets in shades of grey, silver or blue with upturned collars and a zip running down the middle. Others wore similarly sleek and shiny clothing but there were many people wearing clothes not unlike what was normal in Jessica’s time, even some from the 1950s and 60s. She also noticed that practically everyone was wearing sunglasses.

“I can’t believe that people are dressing like that a thousand years in the future,” she said as they passed a woman who looked like she had stepped right out of a home appliance advertisement from 1952.

“It’s nearly the end of the Third Millennium,” said Edward happily, “people are getting nostalgic, looking back at the beginning of the millennium, even a little but further towards the end of the last one. It’s called New-Retroism.”

They watched as a man walk past them, wearing a blue denim three-piece suit, an open-necked shirt made out of a silver, plastic-looking material, sandals and a scarf designed to resemble a large green Boa-Constrictor, complete with forked tongue. “Well,” said Edward, “obviously some people are better at mimicking the look than others.”

They continued down the path, bounding more than walking, then Jessica looked up at the sky and thought of something. “Edward, is it just me or does the sun seem different here?” she asked.

“Ah, so you noticed that then? You are an observant girl!” He responded cheerfully. “The sunlight refracts and scatters in a slightly different way to what you’re used to; it’s the Ozone Generators.” He pointed his cane in a skywards direction as he spoke.

“Ozone Generators?” Jessica asked.

“Yes, they were deployed during the twenty-fourth century, about the same time as the air filters. Over one hundred stations positioned at various points around the globe, hovering up there in the atmosphere, all working to recreate the Ozone Layer which was practically non-existent by that point.” Edward laughed, “People will never cease to amaze me. We trap ourselves in a corner and just when all seems lost, wham-o! That’s when we become our most innovative. We’re quite a resilient race you know!”

They climbed up a slight incline and then, standing before them was the magnificent glass dome and the impressive reach of the towers inside. A holographic display floated before the dome, reading, ‘The Archfield Museum- Celebrating 600 Years: 2318-2918’. A large, arched glass tunnel extended out from the dome with a line of eager visitors slowly making their way inside. Edward and Jessica bypassed the line, earning the ire of dozens of people.

They entered the dome and walked through the beautiful gardens that surrounded the actual building, then climbed the stairs up to the grand, wooden doors which stood open. They made their way through the main entrance doors only to be halted by a sturdy man with greying hair and bulging arms, wearing a blue and grey uniform. He held up a hand and said, “Sorry folks, entrance passes are on sale at the desk to your left, please join the end of the line and await your turn.”

Jessica cast a glance over at the ticket desk to the left and was met with several angry stares and shaking heads from people in the line.

“Oh I don’t think that will be necessary,” said Edward. “You see, we have an appointment with Dr. Churchill.”

The security guard raised an eyebrow and then taped a spot just above his right ear, twice. There was a shimmer of blue light in his left hand which formed a translucent rectangle, before solidifying into a thin sheet of light. The guard turned the light like a page and it faded away, leaving another sheet beneath it. “Name please?” he asked.

“Edward Graves: Temporal Detective,” Edward said, rocking on the balls of his feet.

The guard mulled this over for a moment while studying the sheet of light, before saying, “Graves- 9:30am, hmm doesn’t say anything about your lady friend here.” He indicated Jessica with his head.

“This is Miss Jessica Lazarus, my new partner in training,” said Edward. “She’s assisting me on this case.”

“Well I think we can just stick with partner and lose the ‘in training’ part,” said Jessica.

“Whoa! Not so fast Cowgirl,” said Edward.

“Alright,” said the guard with a hint of frustration in his voice, “you’re clear. Dr. Churchill’s office is on the fourth floor, main tower.” He stepped aside and allowed them to pass.

Jessica wasn’t really sure what she expected the inside of the museum to look like, but so far it looked pretty normal. The lobby and entrance hall were fairly classical, all wood grain walls and a marble floor with a mosaic of Herodotus, the father of history on it. To their left, beyond the ticket desk, there was a gift shop and beyond that there was a corridor or wing, with an identical one to their right there, each stretching out as far as Jessica could see.

They continued walking straight ahead and climbed a flight of stairs, continued across the landing and upwards to the first floor. They entered through another large arch which led to long gallery filled with paintings and statues. She could see doors set on either side, leading to different exhibits and there was already a steady flow of people moving between them. As they stepped into the gallery, a holographic projection of a vaguely feminine form appeared before them, informing them that this was the first floor followed by a list of exhibits that could be found there. Edward continued walking through the projection so Jessica kept in step.

There were some soft benches in the room, presumably for resting and Jessica also noticed a set of three silver circles set into the floor on either side of the floor, each with a green light next to them. One of the lights turned red and then a few seconds later there was a buzz and spark of white light and suddenly there was a large man there, wearing a loud shirt and shorts that there two sizes too small. He stepped out of the circle and Jessica realised that he also had a small boy with him, eating an Ice-Cream cone.

“Short range Tele-pad,” said Edward as they walked. “The elevators of the 30th Century.”

’Right,” said Jessica, “cool.”

She looked at some of the exhibits that they were passing and one in particular caught her eye. “21st Century Wing (2000-2099),” she read aloud from the holographic display. “Edward can we take a look in there?”

“Hmmph, what?” He looked at the exhibit. “Oh no, sorry Jessica, not a good idea. Besides, we’re here on business remember?”

She stopped and looked at the entrance to the exhibit then she looked at Edward, who was still striding down the corridor, cane swishing in his hand. She continued after him but craned her neck back for a moment before moving at a slight jog to catch up with him.

“Why did you say that it’s not a good idea?” she asked.

“Because,” said Edward, “knowing your near future is dangerous. It’s one thing to see what the world will be like in a thousand years, but it’s another to read about what’s going to happen in five.”

“What, so I can time travel, but I’m not allowed to visit anywhere less than a century away?”

“I never said that,” said Edward. “You’ll just need to be a little more prepared first that’s all. It can be quite a shock, maddening even, to know what’s just around the bend.”

Jessica was about to retort but Edward veered to the left and said, “Here’s us.”

They were at another archway, but this one had a large flight of stairs inside it which spiralled up towards the sky. Next to the arch were two Tele-pads and another holographic sign, one which read: ‘Main Tower: Neo-Nihilist Art, Scandinavian History, The Anglo-Icelandic Wars, Administration.’

“Are we beaming up?” asked Jessica.

“Never really trusted those things myself,” said Edward. “The only person I want fiddling with my atoms is me, so if it’s all the same to you, I think we’ll take the stairs. Besides it’ll be good exercise.”

Good exercise was right, four floors and nearly two hundred stairs later, they emerged from an archway, Jessica slightly out of breath while Edward had barely broke a sweat.

“Next time,” she huffed, “I’m getting my atoms scrambled.”

“Oh tosh,” said Edward with a dismissive gesture. “You Generation Y kids!”

As they stepped through the arch they passed through a hologram that read: Fourth Floor: Administration- Authorised Personnel Only. It suddenly occurred to Jessica that there was a lack of lights in the museum, yet it was very well illuminated. She couldn’t pinpoint the light source, it seemed to be everywhere. She hadn’t noticed any light fixtures to speak of in the stairwell, or the rest of the museum for that matter.

This floor was much like the others except that, being in a tower, it was much smaller and the doors that ran down the corridor did not lead to exhibit wings, rather they were offices. Holographic banners floated outside each door announcing the name of the person who worked there, along with their job title.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you” said Jessica, scanning for a light bulb of some sort, “where does all this light come from?”

“Noticed the lack of bulbs, have you?” Edward said as he looked at each door that they passed, skimming over the name. He stopped and stretched his arms out, like a showman presenting some foreign spectacle. “The light comes from all around us. Light bulbs of any kind are made obsolete by the end of the twenty-sixth century. You see, the walls and ceilings of this museum are coated with a special substance. This substance allows for the transmission of light from any angle, meaning that every part of the museum is illuminated in varying degrees from every possible angle. It’s all quite interesting but it ruins the old light-bulb jokes. I mean I’ve tried, ‘how many Archaics does it take to install a photo-electric panel?’ but it just doesn’t flow as well.”

“Oh I’m sure that you can make it work,” said Jessica.

The curator’s office was at the end of the floor, with a hologram proclaiming it to be the office of Senior Curator Dr. Nathanial Churchill- Meeting by Appointment Only. Edward took out his pocket watch and declared it to be 9:23am. “We’re a bit early but I’m sure he won’t mind,” said Edward. He stepped up to a small orb that was set into the wall by the door.

A red light blinked to life and then a translucent red hologram appeared before them, witht he vague, faceless appearance of a businesswoman holding a clipboard. “Welcome to Dr. Churchill’s office, how may I help you?”

“We have an appointment with the Curator,” said Edward.

“Please state your name, appointment time and nature of your appointment.”

“Edward Graves, 9:30am, regarding the theft of the Eternity Stone,” said Edward.

The hologram flickered for a moment, glancing down at its clipboard and then said, “I’m sorry there is no appointment listed for Edgar Gates at 9:40am regarding the left of the eternally sewn. Would you care to make an appointment?”

Edward and Jessica looked at each other. “Try speaking a little more clearly,” suggested Jessica.

Edward cleared his throat and repeated his name, appointment time and nature of his appointment, making sure to speak as loudly and slowly as possible, breaking up each word and stretching every syllable.

“Unknown response, please try again.”

Edward’s face twitched, “Bloody machines!” His face turned pink and he apologised to Jessica for his language.

“Why don’t you let me have a go,” said Jessica. “I have a way with machines.” Jessica cleared her throat, “Edward Graves, 9:30am, the theft of the Eternity Stone.”

Once again the hologram flickered and once again it proved to be utterly useless. “I’m sorry, voice is not a match for the vocal record of, Edward Graves. Would you care to make an appointment?”

They toyed with the idea of dismantling the stupid thing and then just kicking down the door, but Edward thought that that might be misconstrued as rude and possibly aggressive. They decided to give it one last shot and so Edward cleared his throat once more and tried again.

“Welcome Mr. Graves,” said the hologram finally.

“About time,” said Jessica.

“I’m sorry but your appointment does not commence until, 9:30am, current time, 9:29am, please take a seat.”

’You’re kidding me, right?” said Jessica with indignation.

No sooner had Jessica said this, had the large wooden doors swung open, revealing a man who stepped out to greet them. He wasn’t quite what Jessica had expected a museum curator to look like; he was the exact opposite actually. Rather than being an overweight middle-aged man with grey hair and a beard, he was in fact a tall, handsome man with dark hair, dazzling blue eyes and a patch of rugged stubble. His satin suit was a strange ensemble of navy blue with black tiger strips, which contrasted against his tanned skin. Rather than a jacket though, he was wearing a long coat that danced about his ankles as he walked, with two small shoulder pads protruding out to the side. The whole outfit was topped off with a pair of red joggers and a tie that was far wider than what was fashionable in Jessica’s day. He looked like he had stepped right from the pages of a bizarre fashion magazine.

“I’m terribly sorry about Cheryl,” he said. “I’ve heard that she’s been giving you a bit of trouble.” The man marched towards Edward who had his arm outstretched, but the curator bypassed it and went straight for a hug, causing Edward no shortage of physical displeasure. “These admin-o-grams and info-bots can be such trouble sometimes,” he said as he finally released Edward. “And who might this lovely vision of scarlett beauty be?”

“Me?” said Jessica as blood rushed to her cheeks. She turned her head away to hide her embarrassment, however she found herself unable to stifle a giggle that slipped out of her lips; she wasn’t used to being complimented like that.

“This is my partner in training, Jessica Lazarus.”

Jessica regained her composure and offered her hand to Dr. Churchill. “Pleased to meet you sir,” she said.

“Oh my dear, the pleasure’s all mine.” He grasped her hand and planted a gentle kiss on it, “A true pleasure indeed.” Now Jessica felt like her cheeks were going to explode, she didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t going to lie, she thought he was hot! Edward cleared his throat rather loudly and Jessica turned to him. His head was cocked and an eyebrow was arched. She suddenly felt very self-conscious and hastily removed her hand from those of Dr. Churchill’s. “Um thank you,” she said.

Dr. Churchill nodded. “Now,” he said, “shall we get down to business? I take it that you have the Stone Mr. Graves?”

“Certainly,” said Edward, “Shall we adjourn to your office?”

Dr. Churchill shook his head, “There’s no need for that, we can settle this out here. I’m sorry to sound rude but I’ve been cooped up in there all morning,” he said with a reassuring smile. “I need to stretch my legs for a bit. Besides, I’m afraid that it’s a bit of a mess in there, I’ve been redecorating.”

“Oh we don’t mind the mess, do we Jessica?”

“No, not at all,” she answered.

“Besides, my poor companion here has weak circulation in her legs and could do with a bit of a sit down, couldn’t you Jess?”

“No, I’m fine,” she said, giving Edward a quizzical look.

“Well maybe I’m the one with the circulation problem, that’s probably it. You live to be as old as me, you tend to start picking up a problem here and there, things stop working as well as they used to. Don’t get me started on my joints, shot to pieces they are! The point is that I’m very grateful for your offering us a seat. Shall we?”

Edward took a step towards the Curator’s office, but Dr. Churchill blocked him off. Jessica saw the Curator’s features contort into a facade of pure, blood-chilling anger, before returning to their previous state. The change only lasted for an instant, but it was enough for her to be shaken free of any disillusions she had about Dr. Churchill. There was something wrong about him, the charm had all been an act and Jessica had fallen for it.

“I apologise Detective,” he said, straightening his tie. “I’ve been a bit out of sorts of late. I’ve been under a lot of pressure from on high to get the Eternity Stone back.”

“Completely understandable Doctor, don’t you think that it’s completely understandable Jessica?”

Jessica was beginning to understand how Edward’s subtle hints and cues worked; he looked at her in a certain way, with a particular smile which told her to just play along.

“Oh yes,” she said with a nod, “completely understandable. Your job must be a tough one, I mean the responsibility that rests upon your shoulders must be enormous. I guess that’s why you need those big shoulder pads.”

Edward laughed, “Oh Jessica you old joker, you!”

Dr. Churchill gave a slight, forced laugh and then said, “Yes well, if you could be so kind as to give me the Eternity Stone then you can be on your way. I’m sure that even Archaics such as you two have busy schedules to keep.”

Edward checked his pocket watch and said, “Yes, the hour does seem to be getting away from us. Very well then.” He pulled a small leather pouch out from his coat pocket, untied the knot and removed the Eternity Stone from within, throbbing with a pale blue light. Jessica thought that something seemed different about it, she didn’t get the same feeling as she had when looking at it before. “You do recall my standard fee, yes?”

“But of course,” said Dr. Churchill as he took the Stone and admired it for a moment, before placing it in a small, opaque container. “I’ll organise your payment.”

“I’m kind of sad to see it go,” said Jessica. “Maybe we could come back to see it once it’s back on display.”

“You would be most welcome,” said Dr. Churchill with a smile and a slight bow.

“Just one more question Dr. Churchill,” Edward said with his index finger pointing to the ceiling. “Nothing too important, just want to satisfy my idle curiosity. Curiosity’s a bit of an occupational hazard when you’re a detective.” He began pacing in small circles, twirling his cane.

The curator looked a little agitated but he did his level best to hide it. “Yes of course, anything Detective.”

“That pin,” said Edward, pointing to the Dr. Churchill’s chest with his cane. “That one, right there on your lapel, does it say NHC?”

Jessica hadn’t noticed it before, but now that Edward had pointed it out, she could see that the Curator was in fact wearing a lapel pin which consisted of an N, an H and a stylised letter C.

Dr. Churchill looked down at his chest and said, “Why yes it does. Is that all Detective?”

“What does that stand for exactly?” asked Edward. “I’m sorry, Mum always said that if I were a cat, then I would have used up all of my nine lives on a fatal curiosity overdose years ago!” Now he was walking in wider arcs around Jessica and the Curator.

“It is one of your fatal flaws,” said Jessica. “That and talking too much.”

“I do tend to talk too much,” said Edward.

“Yeah, you ramble on quite a bit.”

“Well, I don’t know whether I’d call it rambling.”

“I don’t know,” she said, “you’re doing it right now.”

“Am I?” said Edward. “Oh dear, sorry Dr. Churchill, you were going to tell us about your pin.”

The Curator held a very forced smile for a few moments and Jessica could see beads of sweat beginning to run down his forehead. Strangely, she could have sworn that his face was actually flickering a bit at his hairline, where the sweat was appearing. He cleared his throat and said, “It’s the logo of the National History Committee.” He smiled.

“Ah! Of course,” said Edward. “Thank you. You learn something new every day, don’t you Jess?”

“I’ve learned a tonne in just the past forty-five minutes alone,” said Jessica.

“Excellent,” said Edward. He was now standing behind the Curator. “You should always leave a museum having learned something invaluable. Whether it be about the Aztecs or the Great War...” In one swift motion Edward had brought Dr. Churchill to his knees and slapped a pair of shackles onto his wrists.

“Or that the Curator is an imposter?” offered Jessica.

“Oh good, you really did learn something. Oh and you’re lessons for the day Mr. Imposter, are as follows. One, I don’t charge for my services, something which I made clear to Dr. Churchill. Two, you should always wear your pin the right way up. It’s not a C, it’s a crescent moon it’s the logo for the Lunar History Nerds. Before you say anything Jessica, nerd just means an expert these days”

“And your lesson for the day Mr. Graves,” spat the imposter curator, “is that you shouldn’t overestimate your abilities.”

Two men appeared in the doorway behind Edward, both wearing the distinct pin-stripe suits of the Black Glove and both carrying a distinctly scary looking pair of handguns.

“Oh, Zounds,” said Edward.

“It’s not the word that I’d have used,” said Jessica, “but close enough, I suppose.”