Just as Becker was cleared for duty again two anomalies appeared at the same and on top of that a call from the admiralty that had Becker rolling his eyes discreetly behind Lester's back.

Lester, although he didn't resort to eye-rolling wasn't exactly happy either. "Matt, you'll take Abby and Connor to the harbour. I already cleared your presence there with the Admiralty. Captain Becker, since you obviously think that working with a different military branch is beyond your capabilities you will accompany our two time hoppers for a trip to the countryside."

"How did he know?" Becker mouthed to Connor who simply grinned back.

Suddenly the countryside anomaly disappeared.

"False alarm?" Jess asked but it almost immediately reappeared.

"Can I?" Connor asked, checking something on the ADD. "No, it's an anomaly but it's fluctuating. Maybe I should…" He gave Lester a hopeful look.

"I'd rather not have a Victorian lady or a Russian assassin running around on a nuclear submarine," Lester replied because the man was incapable of answering a question with a simple yes or no.

It reminded Ethan of Felix only Felix had usually smirked as well.

Connor looked a little crestfallen.

"Hey, you'll be in a submarine," Ethan reminded him with a nudge. "Whatever that is."

"You don't know what a submarine is?" Jess asked surprised.

"Something that works under water?" he asked, barely managing to bite back his grin.

"Stop messing with them. You had submarines in the 1890's," Matt said a little testily.

"Becker, take your comedian and Emily out before the Admiralty arrives," Lester told them with a glare in Ethan's direction.

Matt didn't mind being in a submarine. It reminded him of the shelters, small and cramped and without any privacy. Any noise that came from beyond the flimsy curtains that served as walls was ignored by everyone. Mandras' hands laying protectively over Kate's stomach, Izar nestling between Paavo and Tel. Marama playing a game of dice made of bones with Ara and Eli while Matt had watched the, trying to figure out the rules. He remembered it as if it happened yesterday.

"I see English hospitality hasn't improved since the 1900's," Ethan commented after they had been thrown out of the pub.

"We should find the man who was interested in the creature as well," Emily suggested.

"Jess, give me everything you can find about the Witchfield worm," Becker said over radio.

"You think it's a creature?" Ethan asked.

"I'm not taking any chances," Becker replied. "Jess says most people say they've seen the worm around the cliffs so that's where we start."

"I guess this settles whether there's really a monster or not," Ethan said when they found the remains of a camping side.

"There's no body," Becker observed.

"Was probably eaten," Ethan commented.

"There'd be traces of that," Emily replied. "It has to have a hideout somewhere."

The followed a thin trail of trash down the cliffs. There was a cave just underneath.

"You two stay behind me," Becker told them when Emily made a move to go in there first.

She gave him an annoyed look but followed him.

Ethan took his revolver from his jacket. Matt might like his toy guns but Ethan wasn't going to take any chances. At the entrance to the cave was an open gate. It couldn't have been here for more than a couple years or else the sea water would have rotted it away already.

"There," Emily said and rushed past Becker around a corner. White light was weakly reflecting from the cave walls. The gateway was small and flickering.

"What's wrong with it?" Ethan asked. He had never seen a gateway acting like this and he had seen a lot.

Emily was crouching on the ground. "There's white sludge here, it covers the whole area around the gateway." Becker quickly pulled her back when something came splashing down from the cave walls.

"Is that water?" Ethan asked, his hand still on his revolver.

"No," Emily answered, watching as the clear liquid hit the white sludge around the gateway and began to hiss and sizzle. "It's acid."

"Jess," Becker reached for his radio immediately. "What's the closest property from our position?"

"It's a farm," they heard Jess reply and Becker nodded grimly.

"Looks like we'll have to knock on some doors."

"Hello?" Becker called, "Anyone there?"

No reply.

"Let's take a look inside," Ethan said, walking off into the direction of a barn. Before either Becker or Emily could do anything he had opened the door and was inside.

"Nothing but barrels," Ethan told them when Becker and Emily came inside as well.

Becker sniffed. "Petrol."

"Who are you?" A woman asked from behind them. She was armed with a shotgun that she aimed at Becker obviously thinking he was the biggest threat.

"We are visitors," Emily said quickly with her most convincing, harmless smile.

"Armed like that," she gestured with her shotgun towards Becker. "I don't think so."

"Did you open the gate?" Emily asked when she saw that a lie wouldn't help them.

"The gate?" She frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"Mum?" A man came in as well. "What's going on?"

"I found these people breaking in," the woman said. She was lowering the shotgun away from them for a second. That was all Ethan needed to yank it from her hand and aim his revolver at her head.

"You will tell us what you did with the creature that came through the light," Ethan said with a casual smirk on his face.

"What are you doing?" Becker hissed into his ear.

"You won't kill me," the woman said with a rapidly blanching face. Ethan's smirk had had that effect quite often on people.

"Who said anything about killing?" Ethan's smile was all teeth and he aimed lower. "Although I can't guarantee anything, obviously."

"The caves underneath the cliffs," the man answered quickly.

"We've been there," Emily replied. "There was nothing there."

"No, no, there are two of them. They're not always there but they always come back. They're hunting in the headlands." He told them with a fearful look in Ethan's direction.

"They?" Emily asked. "How many are there?"

"Two, just the two."

"If you don't want the police on your doorstep I'll suggest you forget that we were ever here," Becker's tone was like velvet covering steel.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" Becker yelled as soon as they had left the farm behind.

"What?" Ethan asked more amused than concerned.

"You can't go around and threaten people."

"It worked, didn't it?" Ethan shrugged.

"That's not how we solve our problems in this time," Becker told him angrily.

"She pointed a weapon at you. Why don't you go and yell at her?"

"She's not on my team." Becker ran a hand over his face. "Give me the gun."

"No."

"Give me the gun, Ethan."

"There are a couple of monsters on the loose here. And I don't have faith in your toy gun."

A sudden, inhuman cry had all of them drawing their weapons. Becker glared at Emily for bringing her dagger along as well but gestured for them so spread out anyway.

"Here," Emily called and waved them to the edge of the cliffs. Something worm like looking just crawled into the caves. They climbed down as quickly as possible and Becker took the lead once they reached the caves again.

The anomaly was still flickering but there was only one creature. It looked like a lizard that had been stretched for too long and now refused to go back to its original length.

"It's hurt," Emily said, using a couple stones to get a better vantage point, "from the acid."

"We can't bring it back through the anomaly," Becker said.

"Let me deal with that," Ethan replied, stepping forward and shot the beast in the head without blinking.

Becker grabbed his arm and pulled him back. "Are you out of your mind!" he yelled.

"Look out!" Emily screamed.

Becker pulled Ethan down with him which sent Ethan's revolver clattering into the darkness. It was just in time to get out of the creature's reach. The thing was a lot bigger than the other one had been. It took another swipe at them but Emily stabbed one of its legs, causing it to lash out in pain. Emily quickly jumped aside and stabbed it again, this time going for the belly. There wasn't much room for movement and the creature was lashing out wildly. Its death throes seemed to last forever.

"How was the submarine?" Becker asked Connor when they came back to the ARC.

"Oh you know, it all went well until someone tried to shoot us with a nuke," Connor answered snarkily.

"If it helps Ethan threatened to shoot people as well," Becker replied in an exasperated voice.

"Just one and she was about to blow Becker's head off," Ethan corrected him.

"She didn't," Becker protested. "She and her son had already killed someone by springing a monster on them," he added.

"I presume you resolved the situation peacefully and no one actually got shot?" Lester interrupted them.

"Of course," Becker said with another glare in Ethan's direction. "Although the anomaly was behaving strangely.

"How strangely?" Connor asked and then he and Becker were involved in a conversation about chemicals and physics that Ethan decidedly didn't care for.

Russian Empire, St. Petersburg, cellar under the Aleksandrinsky theatre, 1894

"You should hear him talk," Irena said admiringly as she dragged him through the streets of St. Petersburg. "He makes it all so clear. What we have to do. Our responsibility to end this useless class war."

"You know we'll be fired if they find us here," Ethan reminded although he couldn't deny that he was curious. He had heard too many rumours about Nikolai Ulyanov not to.

"Your father will kill me if I let you get caught," Ethan mumbled.

"Then don't let get caught," Irena laughed. It was already autumn again and her breath formed little white puffs when she spoke.

The square was filled with people. Most of them were workers going by their clothes but Irena waved at a few people that were obviously students. Someone had made a makeshift podium in the middle of the place. The man standing on it was young, maybe 20 with expressive blue eyes and a voice that demanded attention immediately.

"….Formerly, only students rebelled, but now thousands and tens of thousands of workers have risen as well in all the big towns. In most cases we fight against our employers, against the factory owners, against the capitalists. We declare strikes, all of them stop work at a factory at the same time and demand higher wages, demand that we should be made to work not eleven or ten hours a day, but only eight hours. We also demand other things that would make the working man's life easier. We want the workshops to be in better condition and the machines to be protected by special devices so as to prevent them from maiming the workers; we want our children to be able to go to school and the sick to be given proper aid in the hospitals, they want the workers' homes to be like human dwellings instead of being like pigsties."

Ethan couldn't stop listening. Next to him Irena took his hand and pressed it excitedly.

"The police intervene in our struggle. The police seize us, throw us into prison, deport us without trial to our villages, or even to Siberia. The government has passed laws banning strikes and workers' meetings. But we wage our fight against the police and against the government. We say: We, millions of working people, have bent our backs long enough! We have worked for the rich and remained paupers long enough! We have allowed them to rob us long enough! We want to unite in unions, to unite all the workers in one big workers' union, no, a workers' party and to strive jointly for a better life. We want to achieve a new and better order of society: in this new and better society there must be neither rich nor poor. All will have to work. Not a handful of rich people, but all the working people must enjoy the fruits of their common labour. Machines and other improvements must serve to ease the work of all and not to enable a few to grow rich at the expense of millions and tens of millions of people. The government persecutes us and our organisations but they exist in secret, despite all prohibitions; they publish news papers and pamphlets and organises secret unions. We not only meet in secret but come out into the streets in crowds and unfurl their banners bearing the inscriptions: "Long live the eight-hour day! Long live freedom!" The government savagely persecutes us for this. It even sends troops to shoot us down. Russian soldiers have killed Russian workers in Yaroslavl, St. Petersburg, Riga, Rostov-on-Don, and Zlatoust. But we do not yield. We continue the fight. We say: neither persecution, prison, deportation, penal servitude, nor death can frighten us. Our cause is a just one. We are fighting for the freedom and the happiness of all who work. We are fighting to free tens and hundreds of millions of people from abuse of power, oppression and poverty."

Ethan cheered with everyone else. Irena dragged him forwards through the crowd, closer to the podium.

"And we know who is responsible: the Tsar. Twenty-four years ago a handful of brave men and women already tried to tear out the root of all evil. But 24 years ago we were too few and to splintered to take hold when the opportunity presented itself. We only killed on head of the beast. We – "

"Police!" Someone shouted. The crowd became restless and so did Ethan.

"We need to go," he told Irena, already tugging her into the direction of the streets but she yanked her hand from his grip.

"We'll split up. Come to the Aleksandrinsky theatre tomorrow evening at eight," she pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and vanished in the crowd.

Ethan knew he shouldn't do this. Edmundo wouldn't approve of Irena mingling with these people. But Nikolai's speech had moved him more than he wanted to admit. Edmundo always had talked about treating the tenants on the estate with respect so why shouldn't the workers be paid the same respect?

He knocked at the crew entrance of the theatre. There was no play tonight and the grand windows that looked out to the Nevsky Prospect were dark and dead.

The door opened. It was Nikolai Ulyanov who ushered him inside.

"You're Ethan Dobrowski?" Nikolai held out his hand once the door was firmly closed behind them. "Irena talks a lot about you."

"Just good things I hope," Ethan replied, taking Nikolai's hand. "I heard you speaking yesterday. It was impressive."

"Thank you," Nikolai looked pleased, "Everyone of us tries to do their best for the cause. We're just a small core but we speak for millions," Nikolai explained. "Narodnaya Volya, the People's Will. The government has tried to eradicate us since the assassination of Alexander II but we have affiliates in every major city and even more followers and every day there are more."

"I told him to bring you in." Irena had turned up at Nikolai's side. "And that you're good with languages."

"She says you speak English and French."

"German as well," Irena added.

"Just a bit."

"Come," Irena took his hand. "I'll introduce you to the others."

There were fourteen people altogether including Irena and Nikolai. To his surprise there were also Sonja Romanov and Aleksandr Khabarov.

"You're the concierge in training at the Hotel d'Europe," Khabarov said and it sounded like a compliment.

"….yes," Ethan managed to finally say. He couldn't help but stare.

"I suppose it's only natural that you would become part of our movement. You see the class struggle every day," his voice sounded like velvet but there was a hint of steel underneath it.

"I do," he thought about Mouse thin and tired because her shifts were too long for a 12 year old girl but she never complained since that would have meant her dismissal, about the Guard and workers from the hotel suddenly disappearing without a trace. "The hotel management sees people as expendable."

"But you're here," Khabarov smiled at him. "That is a start for change."

"I hope so," Ethan replied.

"What is your name?"

"Ethan…Ethan Edmundovich Dobrowski."

"Sasha," Khabarov said with a smile and held his hand out for Ethan who took it for a moment too long.

"Ethan," Irena waved at him from the cellar stairs.

He took a look around to make sure the Concierge wasn't anywhere close and came to her.

"What?" He asked impatiently.

"The pamphlets are ready. Nikolai asked me to deliver them but the concierge changed my shift."

"When and where?"

"After the play at the back entrance," she said hurriedly.

"Dobrowski!" It was the concierge. "What are you doing?"

"Miss Dobrowski had a message for me that the laundry for room 53 would be delayed because of a water shortage," Ethan lied quickly.

"Go back to your work, then," the concierge told him.

"Ethan, come in," Sasha smiled as he opened the door for him.

"I'm here for the pamphlets," Ethan replied, feeling flustered. Sasha seemed to dance through the small corridors instead of walking.

"I know," Sasha turned to him. "Don't you ever smile? Life is far too important to be taken seriously."

Ethan gave him a confused look.

"It's from our new play: Lady Windermere's Fan by Oscar Wilde. It's hilarious and much more entertaining than our classics."

"I never liked classics," Ethan confessed.

"What, no 'All that may be so and mankind is ready to agree with it, but it is not what was asked.'?"

"Tolstoy?" Ethan asked with some exasperation.

"Of course. Or would you like "Respect was invented to cover the empty place where love should be."?"

"I liked Anna Karenina even less. Too constructed."

"You've never been in love, have you?" Sasha asked amused. "Too many relationships fail in the face of class diversion."

"Is that why you're here?" Sasha was surrounded by even more rumours than Sonja.

"Among other things," he admitted. "The pamphlets are in the cellar. Tomazs should have packed them already."

"Thank you," Ethan said because he didn't know what else to say.

"We will kill the Tsar," Nikolai announced one day. Tomazs who was in the middle of piling a new batch of pamphlets dropped them to the ground. Sonja looked up startled and Sasha leaned back, waiting for Nikolai to continue. The only one who didn't look surprised was Irena.

"When?" Sasha wanted to know.

"First of March," Nikolai replied and sat down. He gestured for Ethan and Tomasz to do the same. "Sixteen years after our comrades started the war we will finish it. On the same spot, by the same means. The Tsar visits the church in memory of his father each year and he takes the same route over the Nevsky Prospect."

"Hey," Ethan said when he caught Irena alone.

"Hey," she replied.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" He asked, "It's not too late to leave. We could just go home."

"Do you want to leave?" She sounded disappointed.

"No, of course not, not without you," he assured her.

"We'll change the world." Her eyes seemed to glow when she said it.

Ethan put his hands on her shoulders. "Yeah, we will."

"You are concerned for her," Sasha said as Ethan watched Irena leave with Nikolai.

"Of course I am," Ethan told him. He was waiting for something, some kind of acknowledgment but nothing happened.

"It is a good idea. With it we can rally the masses around us." He sounded so normal. Like nothing had happened, like they hadn't – like they didn't...Like he hadn't kissed Ethan, hadn't pressed him down on the bed and whispered quotes from plays and novels into his ear while Ethan could only gasp his name all night long.

Ethan was feeling sick with anxiety, trembling with anticipation, hungered to feel Sasha's hands on him again but nothing happened.

"My shift is over," Ethan said tentatively.

Sasha gave him a look that was laced with guilt and he shifted uncomfortably.

"We could go…Irena won't be back for a while." He thought that he sounded braver than he felt.

"Ethan, what happened was…I shouldn't have…regardless of what was going on, it wasn't appropriate and –"

Ethan had been telling himself no for four days that they couldn't, that he shouldn't and Sasha wouldn't. He thought he could let it go without putting up a fight but he was obviously wrong, because this was worse than the waiting and the insecurity of the past couple days. He couldn't stand here and let Sasha say no.

"I don't care."

Sasha shook his head. "You're young and confused. You've never been in love. It'll pass."

"I'm not that young. And I know that this," he waved vaguely between him and Sasha, "is nothing that will pass. I've seen the future, you know." He grinned.

Sasha gave him a long look which Ethan held before he started to smile as well. "The future?"

"The future," Ethan repeated. It was like a code for 'this isn't something other people would understand', and Ethan was young and in love for the first time, and he knew what it was like to be scared of who you were.

"The world was changed because you were made from ivory and gold," Sasha whispered into his skin. "The curves of your lips rewrite history."

"Which play?" Ethan asked sleepily.

"Not a play," Sasha sounded amused that Ethan already knew him this well, "Oscar Wilde."

"He wrote plays," Ethan pointed out yawning.

"And one novel: The picture of Dorian Gray."

"Don't tell me. It makes an important statement about one thing or another."

"About the wastefulness of youth," Sasha replied playfully, nudging Ethan in the ribs.

"I worked all night and delivered the pamphlets to Nikolai," Ethan protested, keeping his eyes firmly closed. "Give me a break."

"Work had you this exhausted?" Sasha asked, his fingertips caressing Ethan's side.

"Yes," Ethan replied firmly, burrowing his face in the pillows.

"What a shame," Sasha answered in a low voice, his fingers wandering down Ethan's thigh. "I suppose I should go then." He got up but Ethan, still with closed eyes, snatched his hand and pulled him back down on the bed. Pulling Sasha on top of him, his lips curled into a lascivious grin.

"It's the last night of the world. Indulge me."

Sasha leaned closer until his lips were brushing Ethan's ear. "It'll be my pleasure."