Chapter 4 - The Man in the Black Top Hat

Flora walked through the metallic entrance to Gressenheller University, still a little transfixed by how different everything was. The grand building had not escaped mechanisation, and she had to admit she was a little unsettled by the unfamiliarity of a place she used to know very well.

She didn't know whether she would be let in given that this was ten years in the future and so there might no longer be any staff who recognised her, but Clive had been optimistic for a change and had pointed out that if they weren't let inside to see the professor they could always wait outside in the grounds for him to come out.

"Um..." said the receptionist, as she approached the desk. He looked like he'd been in some kind of accident. He had one eye bandaged and his face was full of plasters. Flora didn't recognise him, but his name tag said 'Edgar'.

He gave both her and Clive a startled look, as if surprised to see them, and then began to sweat, enough that he had to pull out a handkerchief from his shirt pocket.

What's up with him? Flora wondered.

"Er, hello, can I help you?"

Flora and Clive exchanged glances. From Clive's expression, she could tell he thought the man was behaving a little strangely as well, but then he shrugged and muttered, "Maybe he's having a bad day."

She nodded, and turned back to face Edgar. "We're looking for Professor Layton, is he in today?"

Edgar stared at her with his good eye for a moment. "Um... and you would be?"

"His niece and nephew," said Clive, before Flora could respond.

The man's expression changed from excessively nervous to utterly horrified. "W-w-what? Wait, of course you are! S-s-silly me..."

"Er, right..." said Clive, who obviously hadn't expected his bluff to work so well.

"So can we see him?" Flora said, hoping to cover for Clive's momentary inability to speak.

"Y-y-yes, yes, of-of course! He d-doesn't teach here any more, b-but I'll s-see if I can get s-someone to t-take you to where he is."

"Oh, that's most kind!" said Flora.

"T-take a s-seat..." said Edgar, and he disappeared through a door into the back office behind reception.

"Phew," said Clive, sitting down in the seating area and taking off his golden helmet. "I can't believe that actually worked. He didn't even ask for any ID."

"He did seem a bit troubled by something," said Flora. "Anyway, it's not like we're lying too much - I do know the professor. He'll definitely recognise me."

"That's good to hear. I really want to get back to my own time." Clive took off the Com Link from his wrist, fiddling with the buttons on it. "Though, these things are kinda neat," he said.

"Careful, you might break it," said Flora.

"Wait, I think I'm on to something here," said Clive, almost stubborn in his persistence.

Suddenly, a beam of light shot from the Com Link, and a 3D video appeared, showing a flock of Scarlet Macaws taking off in the wild.

"Wow, that's amazing!" said Flora. "It's like watching TV in 3D."

"I wonder how many channels it has?" said Clive, more interested in the machine than in its effects. With the way he was fidgeting with the device, he reminded her of Bruno.

"A good friend of mine would love to take it apart," she said. "He was brilliant at building robots."

"You should bring yourn back as a souvenir, then."

"Well... yeah, I guess..." she said, trailing off thoughtfully.

Before Layton had visited St Mystere and subsequently adopted her, an old caretaker named Bruno had created a village of robots at her father's request, so that she wouldn't be lonely after her mother had passed away. The robots were so life-like that it was impossible for an outsider to tell the difference, and helped to keep the illusion of life going in the otherwise empty village.

Bruno had also built a robot version of her mother, but even with an identical appearance, Flora could tell that she wasn't truly her mother. Lady Dahlia had had a completely different personality programmed, such that Flora ended up hating the woman for resembling her mother; and she would always hide herself away from Dahlia, only occasionally venturing out into the village of robots.

"Um... did I say something wrong?" said Clive, peering at her with wide, worried eyes.

"Oh, no! Not at all. Sorry, I zoned out there. It's just... well, the robots he built were so realistic you couldn't tell they weren't human. I always used to feel so sorry for them. But he was a good man - the inventor, I mean. He was always looking out for me. I haven't seen him for a while... I still write letters to him, of course, but I was just wondering how he was doing right now."

"All the more reason to bring him something back," said Clive. "I want to bring my one back. My dad'd love it, he loves gadgety things too. He lets me look at his plans all the time. He builds robots for construction works."

His eyes were shining with such pride that Flora really didn't want to say anything that would shatter that faith, especially since earlier she'd been the more optimistic out of the two. Still, the space-time continuum probably took precedence.

"But won't it cause problems if we bring back something from the future which doesn't belong?"

"Oh, you're right there. And I bet there isn't a way to power them back home anyway. Probably for the best," he said, though he did look as though he was going to use the Com Link as much as possible before going back.

"Excuse me?" said a man. Flora looked up, while Clive hurried to turn off the Com Link. It was a police officer, accompanied by two colleagues. "You're Mr Layton's relatives, are you?"

"Yes, that'd be us," said Flora, and Clive muttered, "Um."

"Ah, good. If you'd both like to follow me, please, we'll escort you to him."

The policemen accompanied them outside the university, and ushered them inside a white, yellow and blue blimp-copter-car.

"Looks like we get to fly over London after all," said Clive, putting on his seatbelt and bouncing up and down on his seat, before testing the softness by pushing down on the seat with one hand. "I think I'm getting used to this adventuring malarkey. Once you get past the shock, it's actually quite exciting. I can't wait to see what other gizmos they've got here."

"I'm glad you think so," said Flora, smiling at the boy. He was already eyeing the buttons next to the window with great interest.

It never gets old, that's for sure... but this time it's different. Because I'm not alone for this adventure, she thought.

The 274 Airbus landed, letting Layton and Luke off in Russell Square. Now that they were in central London, Layton was free to investigate the strange buildings and their apparatuses. His eyes scanned the area as they walked, taking in every detail, every little thing that had changed - the boilers, the pipes, the constant movement of the wheels - while his brain absorbed and analysed the information, trying to put pieces of the puzzle together in order to come to a conclusion.

Seeming to have a sixth sense about when to keep quiet, Luke held a respectful silence, but as they neared the university, he eventually asked, "Professor, do you really think we're in the future?"

Luke always asked a question along those lines, as if to validate his own thoughts and theories, but it was a fair question. Layton was not the kind of person to take things at face value.

Question everything.

Dig deep. Dig and dig until you find the answer.

The only thing you can rely on is cold, hard fact.

Those were the things his mentor had taught him.

And indeed, for every mystery that Layton had solved, there had always been a chink in the armour, a mistake in an otherwise flawless plan; some kind of clue that he could use to dispel the illusion and uncover the truth.

But this time... there didn't seem to be anything to disprove what they'd seen. Not yet, anyway.

In this supposed future, there was no hidden truth. He'd uncovered and dug deep, and so far he could find no tricks, no robot disguises, no hallucinogenic gas. What they saw was what they saw. And what they saw was a heck of a lot of machinery, far too advanced to have covered all of London in a short span of time, but definitely geared towards doing something larger than it would first seem.

What was it?

That was what was really bugging him. He wanted to get to the heart of it. He wanted to see what the grand machine of London was truly for. Perhaps, therein lay the truth about the time travel.

At great length he said, "Until we see something that suggests otherwise, I'd have to say yes."

Luke did a double-take, obviously expecting the standard it's too soon to tell, but something tells me there's more than meets the eye answer.

"It's the technology," Layton said, gesturing to a traffic light, which had one of the pipes adjoined to it, along with a large valve. "It's quite unlike anything I've ever seen. Assuming we are still in our own present time, you would be hard pressed to find a place in the United Kingdom where no one would notice hi-tech activity on such a grand scale."

"That's right," said Luke. "A new energy source would have been all over the news, wouldn't it?"

"Unless, of course, the entire city was hidden underground."

He looked up at the sky. The same old sky. That hadn't changed, at least. Fluffy clouds, here and there, floating dreamily along.

Why?

Why had he gone back to that fateful day? He had not been present during the explosion; he had only arrived on the scene much later. Could he have really travelled back through time and witnessed that specific moment?

If it was real... The second letter had mentioned some disruption to the time machine, but out of all the places in the world, out of all the times in history... why that precise moment? It couldn't be coincidence.

"But somehow... I don't think so."

"Golly, Professor! Does this mean I get to be excited about something that's real for a change?"

Layton came out of his reverie and chuckled. His assessment of the situation had less to do with logic and more to do with Claire. But Luke didn't need to know that.

"Perhaps," he said. "There are still a few unanswered questions. Let's go see if we can find myself."

Layton and Luke entered the university, where the receptionist immediately put a hand over his mouth. "Oh my goodness - it's - you're - him! Oh... g-good, I-I s-see your nephew is in good health, sir. I'll just c-c-call for the dean and get a cup of tea for you right away, sir."

Nephew? mouthed Luke.

"Let's just play along for now," Layton muttered.

After dialling a few numbers on a handset, the receptionist looked up at Layton, still stuttering nervously.

"Oh, er... is y-your niece okay? She's not with you..."

That's... quite the extreme reaction you have towards me... thought Layton. "She's, er, fine. If you'll excuse us for a moment, my nephew and I need to talk."

Layton pulled Luke over to one side. "Luke, I just thought of something. It might not be a good idea for the dean to see you, he might recognise you, and if I am to uncover the real truth behind this city..."

"Aha! There's that famous intuition. Understood. I'll, um, go to the library."

"Right, I'll meet you there."

Just as Luke darted down towards the stairs to the first floor, Dean Delmona came plodding along from the opposite direction.

"Heavens above! It is you!"

A short man with spectacles and a moustache, Delmona looked pretty much like his present day counterpart, except that apparently he had finally decided to accept his age, since he was no longer wearing his tiny toupee to mask his balding hairline. He led Layton up to his office, where there were two cups of steaming tea on the desk.

Delmona gestured for Layton to take a seat, but remained standing. Usually the dean was very open and chatty, sometimes undesirably so, but for some reason he appeared rather tongue-tied.

"You're... er... well, I hope? Seated comfortably? Air too hot? Too cold? I can turn the thermostat up or down if you like - "

"I'm fine, sir," said Layton, taking a sip of tea. After a beat, he sensed that, odd though it was, Delmona was waiting for his permission to sit down. "Please, sit down, sir."

Delmona did so, leaning back in his chair behind his mahogany desk. "So... What a surprise to see you here, my boy! I trust you had a pleasant journey here?"

"Yes, thank you," said Layton. "The bus offered some spectacular views of London."

"Bussed it, eh? Well, I suppose you did invent the things."

Hmm... So his future self had also created the new buses. Maybe that was why he travelled for free? That made a little more sense... but only a little. He took another sip of tea, if only because he found the action calming.

"So... to what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?" said Delmona. "Didn't think you'd have the time of day, what with you being Prime Minister and all."

Layton mentally gave himself several rounds of applause for having the composure to not snort in his tea.

"...Forgive me, did you just call me 'Prime Minister'?"

"Er, yes."

"That's what I thought," Layton said, suddenly feeling weak.

It...

Just...

How?

Why?

When?

Him?

Prime Minister?

"Something the matter?"

"No, nothing," said Layton, desperately trying to gather the bits of his brain that had gone in a million directions at once.

"Don't tell me you forgot!"

"I... er... no. This is... just a courtesy call. But, I must admit, it feels very odd being here again," said Layton, who, in the end, had decided that the truth was the best option here.

"Yes, I know what you mean. After all, seems like only yesterday you were teaching those bright young minds all about the civilisations of yesteryear. Now today you're teaching us all about the wonders of tomorrow! Steam-powered fusion! Who would have thought it!"

Certainly not me, Layton thought.

"I am surprised you're here, and without an armed escort, too? All very peculiar - not that I'm arguing with you, mind!"

"I won't be here long. In fact... I should probably leave now. Forgive me for cutting our brief meeting short..." Layton stood up, tipping his hat in apology. "May I let myself out?"

"Not at all! I completely understand! But you know, I could give you an extra sweet present. To the tune of five thousand pounds. As a way of securing our grant, if you know what I mean."

Once again, Layton felt himself having to keep a very tight grip on his emotions, turning an incredulous stare back on the man who in this time was his former boss. "You did not just try to bribe me."

"No," said Delmona cheerfully, "I suppose I didn't."

Layton shut the door behind him. He could scarcely believe what had just happened, and what he had just discovered, but it certainly explained everyone's reactions towards him. He quickly found Luke in the library, sitting at a table deeply engrossed in a newspaper.

"There you are, Luke."

"Professor!" Luke was in one of his excited states. He showed him an article inside the newspaper, pointing eagerly at it, and he said in hushed tones: "Look, look! It says here that you're -!"

"- Prime Minister. Yes, I know. Which means we won't find my future self here."

"Eh? Oh, of course, he'll be in 10 Downing Street... or wherever it is the prime minister goes whenever he's ministering primey stuff. No wonder that bus conductor was so nice to you, eh?"

"Yes, quite," said Layton, folding the newspaper closed and looking at the front page. "Curious, the date on this newspaper is indeed ten years ahead of our present day."

They exited the main building, and there were now several police officers in the university grounds, which was slightly alarming. Had something happened?

But none of the officers seemed particularly frantic, in the way that they would be if, say, Don Paolo had made a robbery; they were simply standing around. None of the students seemed to be particularly startled, either. When Layton approached the two officers closest to them, they both said that they were simply on patrol, and not to worry because, "We've got everything under control, Prime Minister!"

They must be here because of me, he thought.

With Luke in tow, he walked towards the main road, coming to a stop just outside the grounds.

What to do now?

"Where do we go from here, Professor?"

"Good question. Though I'm not too keen on the idea of deceiving people, I could continue to pose as my future self. Perhaps we should try to find Inspector Chelmey, assuming he is still around."

"Good idea."

Suddenly Luke exchanged his pensive look for one of surprise, and he pointed upwards. "Ah, look! It's the parrot from before!"

The green bird was flittering just above a lamppost. Hadn't Luke tried to show it to him before? But that had been in London Zoo of the present day. How on earth had it managed to find its way here?

With neck arched up, Luke watched the bird with all the patience of a stalking cat, as if expecting something spectacular to happen. Then the Spectacular Something happened: the parrot exploded in a shower of dots, and then reappeared right next to Luke.

"Oh, my..." said Layton. A parrot with the ability to travel across space... and time, as well, it seemed. No wonder Luke had wanted him to see the creature.

Initially Luke started in surprise, but then he squawked something, and the bird responded. They spoke rapidly to each other - exactly what the conversation was about, Layton had no clue - and then the parrot said in English, "AWK. TOP HAT. NEED HELP, POLLY DOES."

"Help? With what?" said Layton.

A loud noise came from above, sounding something like helicopter rotors. A small, one-manned blimp was coming in to land, with wings jutting out at its centre, and with rotors attached to the wings. It had two mechanical legs underneath it, presumably to prop itself as it landed. It was a car, helicopter, plane and blimp all in one.

A male voice boomed over loudspeakers. "Hershel! So this is where you've ended up!"

The tiny airship landed on the pavement, and a man wearing a white suit, with a red flower on his chest, came out and approached them.

Layton didn't recognise him at all. Not many people referred to him by his first name. The man had a knowing smile, and his body language - the way he was so comfortable, and at ease in his presence - seemed to suggest that he was very familiar with him, in a way that went beyond the superficial "celebrity" status. There wasn't much point in pretending to be his future self here.

"Forgive me, but I don't believe we've met before."

"You haven't spoken to Luke, yet, then?" said the man. "The Luke of this time, I mean?"

Luke frowned, and Layton wondered what was wrong. It wasn't a thoughtful frown. The boy was unhappy about something.

Distrust, thought Layton. Luke doesn't trust him.

"No," he said, finally, frowning himself in mild confusion. His own instincts were telling him to tread carefully, in any case. This man had known they were from the past just by looking at them, so just how much more did he know?

The man gave Luke a look of appraisal before returning his attention to Layton, and more alarm bells rang.

Why is he so interested in Luke?

"Do you have any idea what's going on, then?"

"Only that we have been transported to the future," said Layton, "and that the future Luke instructed us to look around the university."

"I see. And did he tell you why you were brought here?"

"I'm afraid his letter to us was rather vague in regards to that matter."

"Well then, perhaps I can explain a few things. My name is Dimitri Allen, and I am a leading expert in the field of time travel."

Ah, thought Layton. That does indeed explain his interest in us.

"That parrot little Luke there is holding," said Dimitri. "It appears to be drawn to your temporal signature."

Luke and Layton exchanged glances. From the expression on Luke's face, he could tell he was thinking the same thing: aren't the rings we're wearing supposed to mask temporal signatures?

"That means something to you, does it?"

"The parrot has been following us around, through space and time itself," said Layton. "Quite perplexing, really."

"If you come with me to our Time Machine Facility, we can try to figure out exactly why that is."

Curiosity vied with suspicion in Layton's mind. Should they go with this man and find out more? Or was it better to wait until they met with Luke?

The younger Luke made the decision for him.

"No," he said firmly.

"And why is that, if you don't mind me asking?" said Dimitri. Layton was wondering the same thing, but then Luke had been distrustful from the very beginning. There had to be a reason for it. It didn't make sense for the usually bright and bubbly Luke to be this suspicious of someone he'd never even met before.

"Because we've got to meet someone right now. Isn't that right, Professor?"

Layton nodded and kept an indifferent expression, understanding immediately: whatever the reason was for the lack of trust, Luke couldn't say it in front of Dimitri himself.

I'll play along, Luke. "Yes, that is correct. We should be heading to Scotland Yard now."

Dimitri made a tut-tut sound. "That's too bad," he said, sounding disappointed. He pushed something on his wrist. Suddenly, Luke and Layton found their path blocked by a group of menacing robots on either side. Though they were humanoid, they had scorpion-like tails, which made Layton immediately think of Descole's giant Detragan.

Layton growled, clenching his fists. "What's this all about?"

"I was really hoping you would come along quietly, and that I wouldn't have to resort to using force..."

"You can't do this!" said Luke. "The professor's - well he's the Prime Minister! The police'll have you arrested!"

Dimitri chuckled. "Will they, now?"

"Infinity," said the parrot suddenly.

Luke jumped at the otherworldly voice emanating from his hands, but no one was more surprised than Dimitri, who had visibly recoiled from the shock.

"What?"

The world blurred for a moment; and then Layton, Luke and the parrot were gone.

[ - Hidden Memory #2 - ]

Descole stood on the bank of the river Thames, looking out towards Tower Bridge. It was always a bit cooler here by the river than it was in the heart of the city. A moderate breeze caused his cape to flutter, and the tree branches above him gently swayed. The water was almost down to its lowest point. In London the Thames was tidal, and a full moon meant a very low tide at this time in the evening.

Infinity, he thought. That's how the scientists at the PDR Institute had done it. Infinity was, for their purposes, an infinite number of possibilities taking place within an infinite expanse of space. Infinity had allowed them to temporarily break down the laws of physics in order to bend the space-time of this universe into another possibility that suited them. No wonder Claire had died... or had she?

An astrophysicist constantly on the search for phenomena relating to the cosmos, Claire had been a great advocate for the "many universes" theory, and had hoped to use the results of the time machine experiment at the Institute to prove it. An infinity of universes, linked by an infinity of wormholes. With infinite universes came infinite potential... and infinite energy.

And apparently, she and the other two scientists had not only discovered this place of infinite possibilities, where all space-times existed at once, but they also had found a way to tap into its limitless power, if only for a millisecond. Descole knew that he, too, had to find a way of tapping into Infinity. His own time machine used a different method to the one of nine years ago, and as such, with current technology, it could only be used one way. If he was ever going to use it, he would have to make that one use count.

He heard someone approach him. He was almost certain he hadn't been followed, but if anyone had followed him, it would be him.

"Descole," said a quiet voice.

He looked up and sneered, turning around with a dramatic sweep of his cape. How typical of Layton to deduce right away that he was the culprit behind the current string of thefts from Dimitri's underground lab.

"You followed me all the way here? How foolish!"

"You are the one responsible for stealing Dimitri's research," said Layton, in that infuriatingly calm voice of his. "It seems you too are interested in time travel."

"Perhaps," said Descole. "To acquire that which has been denied to me many times before, I plan to recreate the conditions of the lab experiment nine years ago."

"Do you not realise the consequences of meddling with space-time?"

"Ha! I know exactly what I'm getting into. I'm not going to get killed like that fool woman, Claire."

Layton started, and then glared with a coldness that Descole had never seen from him before.

This was interesting, and Descole had to resist the urge to smile. Something about this woman seemed to push all the wrong buttons for Layton, and Descole wondered how far he could go.

"She was nothing," he said offhandedly. "An utter waste of human DNA."

"Descole..." Layton growled.

"Death was but a kindness, for in life she was destined to be a failure."

Suddenly, Layton drew a sword, and Descole laughed at the angry look in the other's eyes. "You knew her, didn't you? Maybe even loved her?"

It wasn't until Layton rushed forwards that Descole began to suspect that something really was amiss. The other man was being uncharacteristically reckless, a demonic fury taking over his actions as he charged, with eyes far wilder than that of any of the animals Descole had ever put under his control.

Descole drew his own sword and parried, not quite understanding the ferocity behind Layton's attack, reasoning that the gentleman had finally snapped. After years of facing that unflappable calm, he'd finally caught a glimpse of the man losing his cool. And to think - over a girl, of all things. How disappointing.

It never occurred to Descole that he would miscalculate just how personal this was to Layton.

That was his first mistake. It would ultimately lead to his last.

[ - 2 - ]

As the police blimp-car flew above the city, Flora looked out the window, able to get a better view of just how much London had changed. There were car-blimps, lorry-blimps, and, of course, the Airbuses. And then there were other ships that looked far more futuristic, as they were metallic and mechanical, with sharp dorsal fins and curved wings, such that it was as though she was looking at a sky full of both balloon automobiles and floating robotic fish.

She looked over at Clive, and saw that he had fallen into a sullen silence; his eyes were downcast and his shoulders were drooped. Something was clearly troubling him. She decided to go for the completely random approach.

"What's your favourite colour?"

"Huh? What?" He blinked in annoyance, frowning a little at the interruption, but then he perked up as his eyes focused on her, and he gave her a smile. "Are you always this... cheery?"

"Just when I'm on an adventure," she said brightly.

"Ah." He pointed towards the window and to the sky outside. "I guess I can see why."

"What's eating you? Just now you zoned out."

"Yeah... sorry," he said. "I'm just really worried about my mum 'n' dad, because of the fire at the Institute. What if they didn't get out in time?"

"I'm sure they're fine," said Flora, hoping to reassure him.

"Yeah, you're probably right..." he said, not quite looking convinced. "What about your parents? Aren't you in a hurry to get home too?"

"Oh, no..." she said, wondering how she could tell him without things becoming awkward. She decided to just come out with it. "My parents both passed away."

"Oh, gosh. I'm really sorry," said Clive, putting a hand to his mouth.

Flora shook her head. "It's okay! Really. To be honest... I suppose that's the real reason for being cheery all the time, so that I remember only the good things about them, and not the pain of losing them. But the professor looks after me now, he's like a father to me, so I'm not by myself."

"Ah, so that's why you're praising him all the time."

"You could say that," said Flora, smiling sheepishly. "Anyway, you shouldn't worry about your parents. If my friend Luke has a time machine, we can go back whenever we want. You could go back in time to before the fire and warn everybody."

Clive gasped. "I hadn't thought of that!" He beamed at her, now looking more certain. "Thanks, Flora, that makes me feel a lot better."

"Glad I could help."

"Oh, speaking of the professor... You said he was good at solving riddles, right?"

"The best. And I'm not just saying that, mind."

"Well, take a look at this." Clive pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to her. "One of the robots dropped it when they were chasing me."

She looked at the paper. On it was written the following:

G . . A . .

F . . E . D .

G . . -1B . C .

A . -1B . F . .

G . . . .

"G, full stop, full stop," she read aloud. "A, full stop, full stop... Minus one B? What does it all mean?"

"I dunno. I thought it might be some kind of special code, so I picked it up."

"That kind of thing is right up the professor's alley. We'll ask him when we see him."

The driver flicked his head back briefly. "We're nearly there. You ever been to see Mr Layton in London before?"

"Er, no," said Flora. She hadn't, not in this London.

"Do you see that black and white airship ahead?"

Flora looked; directly ahead was one of the larger fish airships. It resembled a killer whale with both its black and white colouration and the way it sliced through the air. Sleek and aerodynamic, it screamed speed and power.

"Yes," she replied.

"That's Mr Layton's ship."

"Wow," said Clive, which was pretty much what Flora was thinking.

A compartment on the side of the huge ship opened, and the orca-ship swallowed the car-blimp. The tiny craft docked alongside other small blimps, and the police officers escorted Flora and Clive away from the landing area, through some corridors and up to the bridge of the ship, which had staff working at computer terminals with buttons and blinking lights.

Clive's mouth opened in awe; he looked like a child visiting Hamley's toy shop for the first time. Flora was impressed by the airship, too, but she was rather more impressed by the fact that Layton owned it.

A voice sounded from behind them. "Flora," it said.

The voice was one she instantly recognised, and she immediately turned around. There, right behind them on the viewing platform, stood the man in the black top hat: the future Professor Layton.