Chapter 9: Rise to Power

"Where to begin?" said Future Luke. "I suppose... Yes, it was about eleven years ago, when the scientist called Dimitri Allen approached you. It wasn't until later that I found out he was a specialist in the field of time travel."

"Time travel..." said Layton, more to himself.

"I wonder if he had anything to do with that time machine presentation?" said Luke. "You know, the one we're supposed to go to in three weeks time?"

Layton nodded. "That's an interesting thought, Luke."

"Well, I never found out exactly what he discussed with you," Future Luke continued, "but there was something in his research that enticed you. You became... obsessed with it."

Future Luke paused, becoming tense, and uncomfortable. He had the deep, severe scowl that he'd shown when they had first met.

"Please, go on. I must know more," said Layton gently.

"You want to know more," Future Luke repeated in a harsh whisper, his eyes growing cold.

He stood up abruptly, pacing around; and then he glared, his expression flaring into an intense fury. "You want to know what happened? You... you left us, that's what happened!" He clenched his fists. "Do you know how broken up Flora was? Do you realise how betrayed I felt?"

Layton looked like he didn't know what to say. "I... I'm sorry, Luke."

Future Luke made a growl-sigh. "You shouldn't be!" He sighed again in frustration, calming down. "I'm so sorry. That... that was uncalled for." He shook his head. "Goodness knows none of this is your fault, it's our fault for bringing you here. Obviously, it's not you I'm angry with. It's your alternate self."

"There's a difference?" said Luke.

Now Future Luke was the defensive one. "Of course there is! How could you even -!"

He slapped his forehead, and then sat back down, biting his lip. "Professor," he said softly, but firmly. "Do you remember that day when I was young, and I came home from school crying, because a couple of the other children made fun of me?"

Layton paused briefly while he remembered the incident in question. "Ah... You must mean the magpie? As I recall, they were teasing you for talking to the creature in the playground."

Luke nodded, smiling at the thought of the memory. "I remember! You told me to stop crying because 'true gentlemen don't cry'. And then you asked me to take you to the magpie's nest."

"But the really weird thing was that you'd never seen me talking to animals before," said Future Luke. "You believed it was true without even questioning it. I always appreciated that."

"I must confess there was an element of curiosity behind that gesture," Layton responded. "And imagine my delight when you talked the magpie into giving the head teacher's missing necklace back!"

"Professor," said Future Luke. "My father was too busy to even acknowledge my existence most days. You may not realise it, but that gesture... it meant everything to me."

"It's true," said Luke, trying hard not to be embarrassed when Layton smiled kindly at him. He looked down at the floor, and then suddenly got up out of the chair, and ran to hug Layton in the chest. Layton was taken by surprise, but he soon relaxed.

"I'm scared," said Luke. "I don't want us to stop being friends."

"Luke..." said Layton, ruffling his hair just like he used to when he was a little kid. "We'll find out what happened. I won't let it happen, I promise."

"Thanks, Professor," said Luke. Reluctantly, he let go, and took up his seat again.

Future Luke pointed a finger at both of them in turn. "Now - see that warm moment you just shared? Professor, you - your alternate self - you lost that warmth. I don't know what it was about Dimitri, but you... I don't know. You snapped. You became cold and uncaring - and obsessed with helping Dimitri with whatever it was he wanted.

"So..." He leaned an elbow on the table, putting one hand through his hair. "Let's see... You retired from teaching and pursued a career in politics. You forced me to return home... Coerced my father."

"Coerced...?" said Layton, more to himself. Luke was getting the impression that he'd already worked it all out and was simply asking for the sake of asking.

"Oh, no..." he said. How could this future had turned out so horribly wrong? What could have driven the professor to do such a thing?

"I didn't know that at the time, though," said Future Luke. "Before I found out the truth, I blamed my father, for the longest time, for forcing me to abandon you and go back home..." He looked down at the table, hanging his head for a few moments.

"Even from home," he said, "I tried many times to contact you, and Flora tried to dissuade you from whatever it was you had planned, Professor, but every time you either ignored us or refused to listen to reason. Eventually Flora gave up and moved back to St Mystere.

"All the time, as a politician you were heading research in the sciences, implementing new technologies that used cutting-edge renewable energies, all throughout Britain. Soon you became Minister for Science. You endorsed the manufacture of airships, of telecommunications towers, of power stations - all of which utilised the new power sources. By then I was suspicious, and I began gathering information on my own. And I formed an alliance with Don Paolo. Without his help we certainly wouldn't have half the gadgets we have now."

"Yes, I can see how having him on board would be a great boon," said Layton.

"With Don Paolo's help, we managed to chorale a few scientists to our cause, and we established a base deep underground. It was then that we discovered your true plans to take over Britain. Five years ago the previous prime minister resigned, and you took over. Ever since then, we've been fighting you, Professor."

"Hmm..." said Layton.

It could be very difficult to tell just what the professor was thinking sometimes, but it was always worth the wait.

At length, he said, "You say my future self met with Dimitri eleven years ago? And yet we've only been sent forward ten years, correct?"

"That's right," said Future Luke.

"That would put the meeting with Dimitri at one year before my present time. Also correct?"

"Yes. It was a few weeks after the Pandora's Box case, as I recall."

"But I didn't meet with a Dimitri Allen one year ago. I certainly don't have any wish to give up my job at the university. This one year where my future self... snapped, as it were, and drove you away... it is inconsistent with what happened to me."

"Good catch, Professor," said Future Luke, nodding his head to indicate that he was impressed. "It might interest you to know that you're from a different timeline altogether. The fact that you're still travelling around with your Luke proves this. You've 'hopped' from one timeline to another."

"Phew, that's a huge relief!" said Luke, feeling his spirits rise to bubbly heights. His faith had been duly restored. "I can't imagine the professor going into politics."

"Yes, I must admit to being reassured myself, if only slightly," said Layton.

"This future is not your future. Our Layton has a deep grudge against Bill, but somehow I think you don't. We'll know for sure when you meet him."

"Who's Bill?" said Luke.

"One of our time travel scientists," said Future Luke.

[ - Hidden Memory #7 - ]

"Phase three of the renewable energy programme is set to begin today. The government programme will see London become the first city in the world to be powered only by renewable energy sources. In a statement from government officials, the brand new Airbuses have completed all tests to satisfaction and will slowly phase out traditional bus routes as soon as next month. At the Renewable Energy Facilities Headquarters in Beckton, scientists have been developing new technologies utilising a type of nuclear fusion to generate energy. The hope is that this will complement the solar-powered boilers already being trialled in some boroughs of London..."

Prime Minister Bill Hawks sat at the back of his car, leafing through an old copy of the London Times, and he frowned in mild concern. He was due to have a press conference about the renewable energy tomorrow, but he wasn't worried about it in the slightest. He was very good at ad-libbing speeches on the spot. You just had to know how to put a bit of spin it. Light the fire inside people's hearts, know what makes them tick. If you were good enough at it, you could turn a disaster into an opportunity. Talking about a success like renewable energy - well, that was child's play.

It was the man on the front page that had him concerned.

Hershel Layton…

Minister of State for Universities and Science, and front page news, yet again. Not that Bill had any objections. He had to admit that yesterday's speech about how Britain was now "at the forefront of modern technology, the envy of countries all over the world" had been quite inspirational in its own right.

Layton certainly made the headlines often enough. The papers had been all over his proposals for the use of a new energy source to replace the fast dwindling North Sea gas and oil stores a couple of years ago; now almost every home ran on a combination of solar power and steam fusion. The Com Link Devices: another inspired move, capitalising on the fact that humans craved social interaction, and had an unquenchable thirst for knowledge. To have your loved ones and all kinds of information easily accessible at the touch of a button - well, even Bill had to admit to the ingenuity behind Layton's actions there.

But it wasn't just his radical reforms and his work with science that had captured the heart of the British public. He was a man for the people. Even back when he had still been a scholar, the public had loved him for his hard work, determination, and ability to solve just about any problem with a calm stiff upper lip. He represented everything about Britain that was good about being British - definitely a positive thing for public opinion of government in general as far as Bill was concerned.

The thing that had been nagging Bill for a while... It was like an itch on the back that you couldn't quite reach. He was sure he'd seen Layton somewhere before, a long time ago. Before he'd become so famous. He seemed to specifically remember the top hat. But he couldn't quite place where. Maybe it was just a coincidence.

He folded the paper, resolving not to think it any more for the time being. After all, he had to prepare for his statement tomorrow. He had his own public image to maintain.

That was when things began to go horribly wrong, because his bodyguard inexplicably reached over, covered his mouth with a cloth, and knocked him out cold.

[ - - ]

Bill groaned as he regained consciousness, and found himself restrained quite firmly to a wooden chair. He strained his neck, unable to move his hands. Some kind of… warehouse. Wooden furniture, beds, chairs, wardrobes, tables...

He continued to try to move his hands and legs, trying to see if he could at least move the chair along, when a voice from behind him frightened the hell out of him.

"Welcome to the land of the living, Mr Hawks."

Several men with firearms appeared (Police? What the bloody blue blind blazes were they doing, tying up their own prime minister?), but it was the one man who had spoken who stood out most of all. The man in the top hat.

"Hershel Layton? What the devil-? What's the meaning of this?"

"I should think the meaning is quite clear, but in case it isn't…"

Bill made a small gasp when Layton pulled out a gun of his own and pointed it straight at him.

This was absolutely crazy.

Layton was holding a handgun.

Never in the history of Modern English sentence formation did there exist a group of words that should never ever be found in the same sentence.

Layton was holding a handgun.

It was so insane he had to say it out loud just to make sure he wasn't dreaming.

"A gun?"

Layton sighed, with an expression that wavered between exasperation and irritation. "Yes, Prime Minister. I sincerely hope I won't have to shoot you in the leg to prove that, yes, this is a gun I am holding, and yes, I am very serious about this."

No.

This was still too insane. Layton, using the threat of violence to intimidate him? His disbelief must have still been showing on his face, because Layton frowned ever so slightly.

"William Hawks," he said quietly. "I know your dark secret. How many lives have you ruined? How many people have you callously tossed aside, just to get to the top? A few bribes here, a few rigged votes there..."

"What's this? You intend to blackmail me? I didn't think you had the gall! But you're bluffing. You have nothing on me."

"Do you care to test me, Prime Minister? Me - Hershel Layton, who leaves no stone unturned, who uncovers every clue down to the tiniest detail, who solves any mystery in the blink of eye? Let me assure you: I would not be here with you right now if I was not completely certain of my conclusions."

Inwardly, Bill began to panic. It was common knowledge that Layton was a master crime-solver, but up until now he'd never thought that he would be on the receiving end of one of his so-called investigations.

He narrowed his eyes. He hadn't got to where he was by being stupid. "Name your price."

"I'm not after your money, Mr Hawks."

"Then what the hell do you want?"

"What a tangled web we weave, Mr Hawks. You don't even know why you're here!"

Without missing a beat, Layton went on: "Let me tell you what you are going to do. At tomorrow's press conference, you are going to announce your resignation as prime minister. A vote for new leadership will be undertaken, but I think you'll find that there will be no opposition against me."

"That's... that's absurd! Is this some kind of joke? Do you think people will just simply allow you waltz in, no questions asked?"

"Oh dear. It would appear you still don't quite realise the severity of the situation. Allow me to enlighten you."

Layton snapped his fingers, and two police officers pulled a struggling figure into view.

Now Bill made a horrified noise. The sight of his wife, tied up and gagged, suddenly jerked him into cold, hard reality.

"Caroline...! What have you done to her?"

"Nothing... yet. However, her continued state of existence will very much depend on your willingness to co-operate."

There was no mistaking the threat there, and Bill glared back at his captor. What an outrageous thing to do. Did Layton seriously think he was going to get away with this? That he could just kill Caroline and no one would notice?

"You can't force me to do anything. I refuse to accede to any demands! Your political career is over, Layton!"

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, if I were you." Layton tilted his head slightly, his eyes meeting with Caroline's. "Mrs Hawks... I daresay you were attracted to Bill not for the man himself, but for his glorious amounts of wealth."

Caroline made a sharp noise, indicating that she was severely offended; and Bill felt his temper rise to unimaginable heights.

"Layton...! I swear, when I get out of here, I'll make you wish you were never born! You're through! You hear me?"

As furious as he was, though, he still couldn't help thinking that this was all completely off-key. Wasn't Layton supposed to be chivalrous? A gentleman? Had that all been an elaborate charade?

Either way, Layton appeared to be unmoved by the outburst. He continued to address Caroline. "Has Bill ever told you how he came to amass such wealth?"

"I'm warning you!"

"Contrary to what he would have everyone believe, his rise to power is in fact built upon coercion and corrupt dealings... which makes this quite the fun reversal, wouldn't you agree?"

Caroline was from high society and had likely never experienced a rough moment in her life; all throughout Layton's questioning she had looked absolutely terrified, with her eyes widened, and almost sobbing in distress. It was a miracle she hadn't fainted from the emotional stress. Now she shut her eyes, head bowed slightly. After a long moment she raised her head and glanced at Bill. It was a simple look, but a look was enough to convey her meaning.

It's not true, is it?

"Don't listen to him! He's lying, he's just trying to scare -"

- Click -

Bill cut himself off as Layton pressed the cold nuzzle of the gun against the left side of his head. He didn't dare move an inch, self-preservation taking over all other functions. Maybe Layton really had just gone insane, and that was all there was to it.

He felt the sweat trickle down his head, listened to Layton's soft breathing and to Carol's muffled whimpers. After a deliberate and drawn-out pause, Layton spoke gently to the both of them.

"Why don't you tell her how, fifteen years ago, you betrayed your best friend and sold both of your life's work, your dreams, for the princely sum of 1.4 million pounds...?"

While under severe pressure from the gun still pushed against his head, Bill was still able to think fast. Life's work plus fifteen years ago plus betrayal of best friend equalled Dimitri. Well, now things were making a little more sense, but only very slightly.

Dimitri... Humph. That idiot had been a fool to believe him. He'd been planning to sell off the energy source for the time machine from the start, simply because it was much better suited for a larger company that had the resources to fully develop it. They weren't going to get anywhere in a dull little lab in the backstreets of Hampstead.

In any case, Dimitri was the one with the grudge against him, not Layton. And he was certain he'd made it clear to Dimitri years ago what would happen to him if he tried to do anything foolish like press charges.

"Or," said Layton, his eyes turning cold, "about how you ordered your thugs to beat me to within an inch of my life?"

Surely Layton was mistaken. Before today, Bill had seen him as an asset; despite all else, he was a pioneer in British engineering, and famous as hell. A vicious attack of that calibre would draw the attention of the British press. Why the hell would he go and do a stupid thing like that?

Layton's icy tone was laced with a dangerous anger now. "Tell her how you killed Claire."

Claire?

Her?

Bill knew that Dimitri had never forgiven him for that explosion, fifteen years ago. Her death had been a genuine accident, but Dimitri had never been able to let it go. A man that let his emotions get the better of him like that could never be a true scientist.

And yet the question remained. What was Layton's connection to all this? Why did he care about what had happened to that stupid wench of an assistant?

It hit him as suddenly as a stray bolt of lightning.

Of course…

Now he knew where he'd seen Layton before. Claire's busybody boyfriend… who had been trying to find out every inch of information on that explosion 15 years ago, silenced on his orders and left comatose in hospital for a month. Not that he'd cared. At that time it was far more important that the details about that day were covered up; and when he'd received his money, he'd stopped thinking about Layton, and completely forgotten.

Layton clearly hadn't forgotten.

The fog of confusion had lifted; everything was crystal clear now. With that realisation came a leaden sense of dread and defeat. It was very likely that neither he nor Caroline were going to walk away from this unscathed.

"I... I see now. This is about revenge. But you're crazy, Layton, if you think you're going to get away with this."

Layton pulled his gun away and fired a shot across the depot, where the bullet struck the left door of a wardrobe. Bill and Caroline simultaneously flinched at the sound.

"Perhaps I want you dead, and I don't care about the consequences."

He glanced at Caroline.

"Or perhaps I want you to know what it feels like to watch helplessly while someone you love dies a very slow death."

Caroline began to struggle again. The scary thing was how calm Layton was while threatening to kill someone; he had somehow managed to reign in the menacing anger he'd shown earlier.

"Not that I know the extent of your true feelings towards your wife. Should I put those feelings to the test?"

Bill felt the bitter taste of bile in his mouth, and tried frantically to gulp it back down. "Y-you're crazy. You kill either of us, they'll lock you up."

"So you keep saying. But do you really think I would be here making such a brazen demand if I didn't have a plan in mind?"

He placed the gun back inside his black jacket, and slowly paced across the floor as he spoke. "Look around you: these police officers are your security team. Doesn't it strike you as odd that they would be following my orders?"

"The thought had occurred to me, yes..."

"Are you familiar with a man called Jean Descole?"

"I..."

What?

Bill hurriedly raced to find an answer. Was this a trick question? One of the man's infernal puzzles?

"Don't worry yourself. I'll explain." Layton paused briefly. "Descole was a very capable scientist, miles ahead of his time. We thought to borrow some of his technology, but at first we couldn't get the things to work. Human brains are quite a bit more complex, after all."

"Human brains?" Bill repeated, his own brain rapidly back on the path to confusion again.

Layton raised an index finger, as if Bill hadn't said anything. "And then we hit the jackpot: a compound formed from a hallucinogenic ore. It makes the brain highly susceptible to mental suggestion, so after incorporating very minute quantities of the compound into Descole's animal-controlling devices..."

He pulled out something metallic from his jacket: a Communications Link Device, one to be worn on the head. "...We came up with this. It alters the brain's chemistry in such a way that it removes the subject's free will whilst still keeping their personality intact."

"But... every person in Britain is wearing one of these..." Bill whispered, keenly aware of both the earpiece sitting on his own head and the coronet on Caroline's.

"Indeed. Every person in Britain," Layton repeated for emphasis. "All completely under my control, and blissfully unaware of it, too! Quite ingenious, wouldn't you say? Of course, we haven't activated your Com Link's 'hidden features' just yet. We were waiting for just the right moment to do so."

Bill was a tangled mess of emotions. Shock, horror, revulsion, fear, anger - so much came crashing down in the space of one second that he shuddered from the force of it all. He just couldn't believe Layton had gone so far. The Com Links were one of the first things that Layton had introduced when he had first become science minister. So, this plan had been going on for the last five years, at the very least, if not longer.

"You... you planned all this from the beginning, didn't you...? You going into politics, becoming Minister for Science - it was all a cover-up, wasn't it?"

He was treated to a sinister smile and a tip of the hat. "Now you're beginning to see, Mr Hawks."

"But who are you working with? There is no way you could pull this off by yourself. Dimitri must be involved somehow."

"Dimitri?"

"Dammit, Layton! At least give me some credit! I'm no fool."

Layton nodded in acknowledgement. "...Credit granted, Mr Hawks. You are correct."

"He's under your control too, then."

"Oh, no, absolutely not. We're partners in this little political chess game. In fact, the Com Link Devices were his design."

"But-but..."

Bill shook his head. He felt like there was still something else, something that he was missing, just out of reach. Why would Dimitri, of all people, consent to be a party to this madness? He could understand the grudge towards him personally; but fitting all of Britain with mind control devices? Dimitri was about as mild-mannered as a person could get - naive as hell, sure - but still, he ranked as the most peaceable person Bill had ever met. What had happened to him?

Had he really pushed his former friend over the edge with one threat too many?

"That... that can't be all there is to it," he said.

"And what makes you say that?"

"What are you and Dimitri planning?"

"Come now, I'm not going to reveal our plans just like that. I've said far too much already."

"You might as well just tell me. You're going to activate the Com Link on my head anyway, aren't you?"

"I might... I haven't decided yet." Layton paused, going into one of his famous thoughtful poses.

A shiver ran down Bill's spine again. How did the mind control even work? Would he be conscious during the process? Forced to do things against his will? Or would he have no conscious knowledge whatsoever, his will being manipulated into whatever Layton wished him to do? He wasn't sure which one was worse...

"While you're deciding, why not let Caroline go? It's me you want." He shut his eyes and sighed. "I'll do what you want willingly. Just... let her go."

Layton blinked in surprise, and he frowned, a harsh line of displeasure and a chilly gaze both indicating that the cold, menacing anger had returned in full force. "I think not. You still do not fully understand, do you? You don't realise the consequences of what you've done. Hardly surprising. You were never one to give a thought to anyone besides yourself."

"What's your point? Just get on and activate the mind-control already, dammit!"

"As you wish."

Layton took a step back and pulled out a tiny remote control, pushing a blue button on it. To Bill's horror, it was Caroline who made a pained face.

"Untie her."

The two officers holding Caroline obediently complied. She swayed from side to side slightly as she fell free, holding a hand to her head.

"Caroline, run!" It was a pointless shout, really, given that the police could have shot her down before she'd got very far, but both sanity and rationality had deigned to excuse themselves from the warehouse a long time ago.

She didn't react to the sound of her name, instead looking around her surroundings with half-lidded eyes. Now Bill began to sweat again. If she didn't even recognise him... How much of her remained? Had her memories been wiped?

"Carol!"

"I wouldn't waste my breath if I were you," said Layton, who was looking straight at her with a detached expression. "She won't listen to you. It is on a high setting, thus she will respond only to my commands. Normally... that is where we would end the process. However... if I increase the voltage, it becomes dangerously destructive to the neurons."

"You… can't!"

"Don't worry. I'm not going to do anything," said Layton. "You are." He pushed another button... and a fog filled inside Bill's mind.

It felt like... It felt like a heavy weight was over his eyes, as if he'd been drugged. He felt slowed, somehow. His reactions had been dulled.

Layton ordered a police officer to untie him. Bill tried desperately to make a lunge at the maniac, but... his body wouldn't comply. The message from his brain simply wasn't getting through to the rest of his body.

And then he heard Layton's voice inside his head: Stand up.

He stood up.

Good. Now take the dial from me and twist it round slowly.

He complied obediently, and Caroline cried out and fell to her knees, grabbing her head in both hands. A dark chuckle resounded in his mind; but he couldn't even shudder.

Out loud, Layton said, "I'm sure you can imagine the brain tissue being broken down, molecule by molecule..."

Carol writhed about on the ground, howling in tortuous agony. And Layton was standing over her, staring with satisfied glee, enjoying every second of it.

Bill tried to move again. He couldn't watch this! But he was unable to look away, either. He was forced to watch.

The sound of Layton's laughter grew louder.

Kill her, he said.

Bill turned up the knob.

Caroline screamed.

And Layton laughed.

[ - 7 - ]