"I must agree with the Lady Mei. If we tarry much longer than we may miss the excitement," adds Ezekiel.
"Agreed," Thom answers with a nod, "we need to get out of here and get to work." Consulting the map on his palmtop he continues, "this address is closer, lets head over there and see if we can locate this woman. Everyone keep your eyes peeled for any signs of people who don't belong, they could be Centrum agents. Iban, scan minds- look for anyone who's thoughts seem anachronistic... actually, what year is it in your homeworld, Iban?"
Sir Humphrey's gaze glances over the buildings around him, as he ponderously begins stuffing his pipe. "Hm. Quite remarkable, the architecture. The first Capital of the world, if one ignores Constantinople of old.", he begins speaking.
"That is not an easy question to answer, the Gregorian Calendar is not the prevalent one where I come from. The company I worked for it was 3006 Vikram Samvat, The primary calendar for the Pan Asian Cooperative Congress was 4685 a Year of the Earth Snake. Business time is all based on UNIX time, The month I left started 2503440000. Unix time is the number of seconds since The AI became aware. but I believe Mind 21st Century I believe.
Iban begins scanning minds as the team walks.
As IBAN's mind brushes over C's mind, the telepath has a confusing hash of images of a landscape that's not even close to Homeline normal, crystals, whales floating through a cerulian sky, alien thoughts and images, nothing even remotely human. The alien's mind is also laid out differently than it should be, the part of the human brain that should be processing visual stimuli is instead holding memories, and the portion that should be processing language is instead maintaining the autonomic nervous system. Nothing makes sense...
well, calculating the unix time is simple enough but without knowing when 'the AI became aware' that's useless...
Thom pinches the bridge of his nose while Iban explains the complex and convoluted tracking of time in his homeworld. "Alright, if you sense any thoughts that involve technology beyond a steam engine or a light bulb, or anyone who's thinking about other dimensions or timelines let us know. Subtly."
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All around you, the poverty of the region is in evidence. Even the better-dressed folk appear to be putting on airs. There are several people on the street, but no one who stands out in particular. As you walk, you do overhear an altercation from a nearby alleyway.
"Hand them over now, there's a good lass," a deep male voice says.
This is followed by a soft sniffle, as though someone was crying.
As they walk past the alley, C'deth makes a sharp right turn into the alleyway, curious what is going on. She slips a hand into the slit of her dress and places it on the revolver as she does so.
Iban notices C's abrupt change of direction and moves to follow, he almost peeks to see what she is thinking but the lingering synesthesia from the last brush holds him back.
:Amos, I am moving to backup C'Deth:
:Acknowledged, moving up.:
Amos has been following the group by a few seconds to watch for tails. When the news comes forward he doesn't change pace, but does walk through the group and take up a position just outside the alley in case someone decided to make a run for it... or ambush them.
"Preposterity! Such behaviour is simply unacceptable.", hisses out Sir Humphrey, raising his cane, as he gestures towards Amos that he'll circle around. In a moment, the Englishman's titanic figure disappears into the next alleyway with nary a sound. I'll give this knave a caning he'd soon not forget!, he thinks to himself as he rushes through the alleyway.
Thom quietly shakes his head.
nothing like a little light vigilante work to make sure we don’t attract unwanted attention... maybe we can just use ourselves as bait once we’re found out...
Stopping at the entrance to the alley, he signals Mei to stand with him. Leaning in quite close and laying one hand on her hip, he whispers ”We can stand watch here. We’ll make sure whoever they’re confronting doesn’t escape this way, and we can also try to limit how much attention they attract.”
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Mei is pressed against the wall by the squad leader and for a moment her pulse races. Had she teased enough to find a man more like from her homeline? No. He was working. As she leans for a moment and watches his back she flexes her entire body like a cat using the wall to roll her curves up his body from low to high all the while she says why Thom, of course we are watching
Ezekiel breaks off and follows the group heading into the alleyway.
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In the alleyway, a man gestures towards the woman before him with a knife. Her hands linger a moment on the strand of pearls around her neck before removing the necklace and giving it over to the ruffian. Her eyes betray your presence and he spins suddenly, knife at hand. "I'll have no trouble with you lot. Just going to be on me way." He starts to back away, towards the opposite end of the alley, unaware that Sir Humphrey is already heading that way.
"Oh, that's ever so good. I'm not supposed to hurt anyone if I can help it, my employer will be upset with me if I shoot you." Her hand comes up with the gun, keeping it at an angle so that the revolver's round will not punch through the man and into the woman. "Now, do be a good dear, and drop the knife and the pearls. If you do, I'll let you run off by yourself. If you run with the knife and pearls, you'll find that running with a knife is dangerous. Especially since I'll put a bullet through the back of your head, which will force your brain stem forward through what used to be your sinus cavity and out of the 3 inch hole in your face that used to be your nose. If you try to grab the woman as a hostage, I'll shoot you, through her if I have to. I'm a trained doctor, I know where I can shoot her without killing her and yet still hit you with a lethal round. So all in all, it's much better if you just drop things and run. Go on, shoo now..." She makes a shooing motion with her free hand.
Iban steps up behind C and makes contact with the mans mind.
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The man hesitates for but a second, looking at C'Deth and, in particular, the weapon she holds. Without another word, he drops both knife and pearls and takes off running for the other end of the alley.
The woman stands mutely, staring at C'Deth. At length, she manages to stammer, "T-t-thank you."
C'Deth gives a small bow, and puts the gun away. She picks up the pearls and the knife, and returns the pearls to the woman. "You are welcome." She examines the knife for a moment, then puts it in her bag, and turns and walks out of the alley, her curiosity sated for the moment.
Looking over her shoulder at Mei and Thom and the others. "Should we not be on our way? We do have a time table." And then she continues along the path they were travelling on, as if nothing had happened.
As the man leaves the alley Iban begins to read his surface thoughts, 'Can't have him running to inform the authorities'
He follows behind C listening to the surface thoughts as they go.
Sir Humphrey suddently reappears from behind the corner, clapping his hands excitedly. "Marvelous!", he announces with a spring in his step. "We do indeed, and it would be impolite to be rude.", he quickly runs a hand across his bushy moustache. "A shame that the miscreant escaped with his back uncaned, but a good deed was done indeed!", he announces, pausing for a moment as he rubs a hand across his chin.
"Well, hmrh.", he begins saying in a clearly embarrased tone. "It would be incredibly ungentlemanly of me to make such an assumption, and I certainly would not.", he clears his throat, staring up in the air. "But a wild presumption might suggest that the lady we rescued just now might have a larger chance of possessing information relevant to us than the average Londoner.", he clears his throat. "And I will say no more."
Seeing the situation has been resolved mostly, Amos drifts off to avoid drawing attention.
Thom nods to Smythe at the corpulent gentleman's suggestion. He makes a quick motion of his head to prompt Mei to accompany him as he heads into the alley. "Are you alright, miss?" he asks the understandably shaken woman.
"If we have performed our good deed for the day, I suggest that we be going. We have matters to attend to," says Ezekiel, following after Amos.
"By heavens!", exclaims Sir Humphrey as he approaches, his cane striking the ground as he walks with noticeable thuds. All the previous subtlety of the man has apparently flown alongside the ruffian. "Do excuse us, madam.", the massive man bows down graciously, before shaking his head. :To IBAN, my bewitching companion. If you could henceforth notify our companions, I believe that the dearest lady may have some relevant information. Regards, Sir Humphrey:, he speaks into the man's head as if he were writing a letter.
"We are on-route towards Central London at the moment. It would be our greatest pleasure to accompany you towards the rest of the way, and then hail a carriage for your next destination.", he offers, thudding his cane. "Bah! Where are my manners.", he blurts out. "Herbert Cavendish, a hunter and a natural philosopher, at your service. Might I inquire as to your name, madam, and if it won't be too rude, as to why a lady of your standing would be alone in such a...", he looks around the neighbourhood, "...precarious residential estate."
Once it becomes obvious no one else is following her, C's curiosity kicks in, and she turns to return, peering into the alleyway.
She nudges Mei with an elbow. "Why are we still messing around in the alley way? It wasn't anything important, just a non-lethal mugging." She whispers.
”Smythe was looking to get some info from a local,” Thom whispers to the two women, ”sounds like she’s a lost tourist, though.”
C whispers back, to Thom. "I wonder which line she is from? You don't suppose she's one of the ones we're looking for?" Once someone has said that she's a tourist, C thinks of an alt-quantum (given in her mind a Tourist is someone who is from an alternate quantum).
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The woman straightens her dress and adjusts her hat before retrieving her parasol and bidding you good day. The rest of your walk to the Whitechapel District is without incident. If the area you were walking through were considered poor, then this is truly a slum. Filth coats the streets and a palpable moodiness hangs in the air. Even the skies seem darker, though you are certain it is your imagination.
"London is not quite as how I had imagined," says Ezekiel, taking a handkerchief out from one of his pockets and covering his mouth. "It is no wonder that my forebears were so eager to leave this place."
"I had assumed that the women we would be seeking would be nobility, given the importance of their fates; I assume by the state of this town that I was incorrect," he continues. Ezekiel had, after all, been born nearly two hundred years before the Ripper murders and nearly three hundred before anyone had come up with the idea of "serial killers"; the whole concept was still foreign to him. Murder was of course not unknown in Puritan New England--it was actually slightly more common than in the present--but the idea that someone would kill without motivation was. "Who were these people that their destiny is so important to the future?"
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the women were no one of power but rather the down trod and prostitutes looking to make enough money to pay the bill for the next meal or a night of lodging. This slum is one of the worst in history. Charles Dickens is writing about it soon and the deplorable children labor laws. These killings help police work develop immensely and for changes to occur in these slums in some small part because "Jack" the Ripper becomes infamous and terrorizes the greatest city on earth at this time. Mai says having read the briefings.
"Quanta-shift causality is incredibly complex," Thom adds as quietly as possible, "it could be predicated by any or all of the things Mei mentioned, or none of them... maybe these two deaths change the traffic patterns in London enough for one day that two people meet, or don't meet, causing or preventing the eventual birth of someone of huge importance."
"As far as our work is concerned, the 'who' doesn't matter, and the 'why' doesn't matter; we just do the 'what' that we're told to do and everyone gets to go home without this line deviating so far that we can't get back."
"Of all time, madame.", corrects Sir Humphrey as he continues trotting his cane on the ground as he catches up with the rest. Clearing his throat, he continues. "Yes, as fascinated as I am about the causality and the temporal flux, any reasonable individual would induce that the real priority is preventing our cowardly foes to gain more ground.", he suggests. "For while we may have our own failings, they're undoubtedly virtuous compared to those Quanta-pilfering Centrum.", he announces quietly, yet with surprising passion.
C briefly considers switching out her body for an equivalent high-G or Survival form, but other than the survival form's enhanced smell, none of her humanoid forms have night vision. This is obviously something she needs to correct when the opportunity arises.
For now, she simply travels with the others, not really knowing what they are looking for, as this wonderfully primitive world is a delight for her.