Chapter 14
"Thank you, madam! I'm sure your husband will enjoy the watch!" Augustus Pem bowed to the woman who accepted the commissioned pocket watch from his hands. He had made a name for himself, here in the past… Not his own name, of course, and there were times when he became heartily sick of Perry August, watchmaker extraordinaire. But they would still be looking… All those people who had joined together to thwart him… He couldn't let himself be found before he was ready…
He moved to the door, opening it for the woman, and watching her walk away, before he closed and locked the door and flipped the Open sign to Closed. The most you could say about this small California town in 1890 was that it was a simpler place and a simpler time. Most folks were completely honest. They never questioned the prices of his wares. Most of them were content to think they had spent money for something no other watchmaker would be capable of. And they had. All braggadocio aside, Pem was a fabulous watchmaker. His skills were exceptional…
He watched a carriage go by on the street outside. He had made enough money here to have one of those himself, but it was better to continue to lie low. History had never had an Perry August, Watchmaker. Even that small little change in this timeline could snowball down the time stream, until in the future, it became big enough to give him away. So he was very, very careful, and kept himself to himself. Even when Rhoda was around…
Rhoda… His assistant, something of a novelty in this time period. A woman who worked in a store… But Rhoda was a pioneer, hardy stock, and she was out on her own. In a way, he had saved her by taking her in and letting her work here, and she was very good at selling his wares…
He shuddered all over and shut thoughts of Rhoda away. She was gone for the day. He was closed… Now was the time to finally put the finishing touches on his masterpiece. He returned to the sales counter and reached beneath it for the watch wrapped in silk. Placing it lightly on the counter, he carefully unwrapped it and looked at it with a perfectionist's eye.
He had removed futuristic features, so that the watch would not seem strange to the Victorian crowd among which he moved. But the lacy curves and arabesques he had left alone; not quite what might be expected by critical eyes of the time, but foreshadowing Art Deco, which was to come. And very pleasing, yes, very pleasing.
He had also removed the time travel apparatus. It wouldn't do to have people accidentally traveling through time. While it would create confusion, which would certainly aid his plans, it would also create chaos, which wouldn't be helpful at all. And the damage it would do to the timeline might be irreparable. He couldn't have that... Besides, there were plenty of materials here, good materials. He'd built his escape route; he didn't need this watch anymore.
Certain chemicals available in camera shops had abraded the initials down, until they could no longer be read. He'd built up the surface then with thin slices of gold leaf, and fused them using tools he wasn't supposed to have in this time period. The reasons he had to work late at night in the shop, when no one was around to see lurked in his tool box; tools from far in the future, tools that he wouldn't even be able to explain to anyone here in 1890... But he had needed them to repair the deeply abraded surface, so that he could engrave new initials on the case: BCC, instead of JNM. The initials of the man for whom this watch had been commissioned.
Lifting the watch carefully, he flipped the case open and smiled. With better tools, steadier fingers, he had etched a beautiful spiral design into the case. The matte curves stood out from the brightly polished surface, and he had added the knobs and gears needed to activate the hypnosis cycle he had spent several years packing into the watch, moving gears, resetting tiny parts, until he made it all fit within the watch casing.
A dangerous weapon, Admiral Nelson had called his crudely made prototype. By now, somewhere in the future, it lay in pieces in a land fill somewhere, gone beyond repair. But Admiral Morton's watch had been remade into a fine replacement for what was lost. Better conceived, better designed, and far better made. Three years here in the past had given him the time to perfect his design, and to remake the watch into his own. He had never let anyone see it. Not even Rhoda, even though she'd begged to see what he worked on in the dead of night when everyone else was asleep…
Rhoda… He would miss Rhoda… Perhaps when he had conquered his enemies, he would come back for her… He could redesign her as well, remold her into his queen…
But first, he had people to destroy. Soon, soon, he would be able to slip again into time's embrace, to seek out his enemies one by one and destroy them. Here in the past, it had been an easy matter to track down people who had no reason to fear him. It was why he had come to this place, to this little town. He lived just down the street from Arabella Pennington, who – in three months – would marry Benjamin Chester Crane, the popular harbormaster, who was the toast of the town…
Arabella, the beautiful young debutante, had commissioned a watch for her wedding, a gift for her husband to be. The wedding would be the event of the season, an extravaganza in white and gold, to which Perry August, timid little watchmaker, would not be invited. Oh, but he would be there in spirit...
The watch was beautiful; true, he couldn't claim credit for that. It had been made by other hands, but he had enhanced, oh, yes, he had. And it was beautiful and unique, an object that the proud groom would undoubtedly wear ostentatiously... And when the time was ripe, it would do it's work. Em rubbed his hands together in anticipation, then reached for the watch.
He closed the case carefully. This watch wasn't what Arabella thought it was, and soon, she and her new husband, Benjamin Crane, would both feel the effects of that mistake. When he had destroyed their marriage – and young Crane's reputation – beyond repair, then he could move forward in time to seek out others, whom he would take pleasure in destroying for the havoc they would wreak in the future… He didn't need to kill them; he wanted to see what his hand had wrought when he returned to Admiral Nelson's time, and then to his own. The changes would be devastating; of that he was sure.
Only three months and a handful of weeks to wait before his job here was done… Pem smiled as his fingers clenched around the watch in his hand. Somehow it was fitting that his nemesis' timepiece would be his means of gaining his revenge…