Chapter 2

The Other Traveller

Amelia hadn't realised she had been holding her breath. In fact she had gone so still it seemed her heart had momentarily stopped pumping blood and what blood was left in her veins had frozen there. She'd gone still during R's admonition, but it seemed she was hardly the only one put on a figurative time-out by the force of nature that was their impressive leader, and her current boss.

Shake it off, bring it back. You were asked to be here, you have as much value here as they do and they do not have your experience or information. Start talking. Breath.

R inclined her head slightly, urging her to continue. The cold creep of anxiety and fear tingled in her fingertips as she shifted to her left leg and unclenched her hands, placing them on the table, her fingers lightly splayed across the files in front of her.

"As I was saying," Voice even, clear and just a little frosty, good, give 'em hell. "While Wells and his Traveller were using the machine to see the past, others..." she said, straightening, crossing her arms behind her, "were looking for ways to see the future."

"Others?" Dr. Jekyll asked softly, watching her intently. Amelia noticed Mrs. Harker glance at Jekyll then to her as if following a similar thought. A scientist and a doctor, deductive reasoning.

"Yes, others," she continued, shifting her weight to her right leg. "In the year 2005, a small group of scientists working within NASA... our modern space and aeronautics administration..." she paused at the blank expressions in front of her.

Right, space travel isn't a thing yet.

"Er..." she continued, glancing around the room, "I'll explain later. This group of scientists were all familiar with Well's work and occasionally got together to discuss it, but never in anything but theory. One day, two of them decided to try an experiment, based on his work. They wanted to see, if using the technology at their disposal, if they could move a small object. A watch. Forward in time." Amelia pushed her left sleeve up a bit higher, revealing a watch clasped just below the elbow. Small, a woman's watch, with a gold face and dark leather band.

"It worked."

It's still ticking, that's good, I'll have to adjust it for London time I guessOH MY GOD TRY TO STAY FOCUSED"

Amelia shook her head slightly, as if clearly her mind, and continued quickly "Naturally NASA discovered the experiment and decided they needed to create a new department. Funding was, quietly, shifted, a base was established in Canada and the scientists and their families were all reassigned to the new TRACE progam."

"TRACE?" asked Sawyer, leaning back from the table, shifting his arm so it sat lightly on the back of the chair.

He speaks.

"Yes, " said Amelia, clearing her throat. "Time, Relativity And Continuity Exploration." She gave a slight, fond, half-smile. "Not very subtle but the name is only known within the organization. To the rest of NASA, and the world, we don't exist."

Sawyer nodded slowly, brushing his hair out of his face. "So if the rest of the world doesn't know you exist, does that mean this threat we're facing... or will be facing," he leaned forward until both of the forearms were resting on the table, fingers tapping lightly, "comes from within TRACE?"

All eyes were suddenly back on Amelia. Some wary, accusing, others she was still unable to read. The cold shocked back into her hands and she felt the cold sweat begin at her temples as a wave of fatique struck her like a concrete wall, starting at the base of her skull and seeming to pull her whole body down like it had never known gravity until this moment.

Dammit, not now.

She hid her slight falter as another weight shift, then as casually as possible, sat in the chair Nemo had previously provided her. She had almost forgotten about the Captain, who had been silent and still the entire time. He was now watching her intently. Too intently.

Get this over with, and now.

"Not exactly," she replied, forcing her exhausted eyes to focus on the individual buttons on Sawyer's vest. Just stay focused and it will go away. We believe the threat came in a form of another traveller, from your end. We don't believe they are associated with Wells, at least not yet, but we do know they did come through a tear left over from one of Well's Travellers...uh... travels," she finished awkwardly, eyes skipping to her hands then back to the room.

"A tear. Whatchu mean a 'tear'?" came a voice suddenly over her left shoulder. She prided herself on not starting too violently when Skinner's chair next to Mina's suddenly was wrenched backwards and the coat on it lifted from the seat as if by magic, suddenly acquired the form of a body and sat back down. Mina didn't bother to hide a scathing eye roll as she slipped a tin across to the floating coat, and the coat opened the tin and applied the white, creamy past to the air above the neck, slowly revealing a ghastly face with a decidedly sarcastic expression.

"When someone time travels, they create a hole, what we call a tear, in the fabric of space and time," she continued, deciding it was best not to look directly at the...lack...of eyes in Skinner's pale face. "Now these holes heal themselves fairly quickly, within a half a minute or so, but it allows someone without a time travel device to follow through this tear to where the traveller with the device ended up. We sought out Wells and began working with him soon after we refined the time travel to extend to people instead of simple objects. At the time he was commuting between now and TRACE headquarters and we believe this other traveller followed him through the tear, where he stole one of our portable time portals."

"How many of these...time portals...are there?" growled Quartermain, curiosity seeming to be the catalyst to breaking his gruff silence.

"Two," said Amelia. "Including mine."

"So he stole one of your portals and you need our help getting it back," drawled Dorian, rolling his cane over his knees. "Can't catch him on your own with your own technology, I grieve for the intelligence of future generations."

Should have added "insufferable asshat" to his file.

"This is not OUR problem that we are coming to you to fix," she spat. "This is very soon to be YOUR problem and, by extension, ours. We believe he stole the portal to duplicate the technology and then sell to the highest bidder but failed. So instead he's peddling stolen highly advanced and deadly modern chemical warfare to dangerous powers NOW in YOUR time when the innocent have no defence and the death toll will be devastating."

Fatique briefly shaken off, she had stood, leaning on her hand on the table, glaring directly at Dorian.

"Define 'chemical,' Miss Storm," came Jekyll. "Strychnine, cyanide, arsenic..."

"I guess the proper term would be biological," she continued. "A strain of influenza virus that had been around for centuries mutated somewhere in the late 2000s. It emerged in 2009 as a new strain of Swine Flu, you will not have heard of it yet Doctor," she added quickly, raising a hand to still the doctor's almost-outburst.

"At least you wouldn't have for a few more years," she added quietly. "It had all the same symptoms of typical influenza except it was taking hold in previously healthy people, as opposed to the usual easy targets such as children, the elderly and pregnant women. In severe cases the victim would start to feel better then relapse with a high fever and progress into respiratory failure within 24 hours. It was declared a pandemic and killed around 285,000 people. It was eventually contained and went into decline closer to winter of that year and by summer of 2010 the pandemic was declared ended. Years passed and although the virus on it's own did not resurface in the same capacity, and it's fairly low lethalness compared to other viruses, that did not stop some terrorist organizations from attempting to weaponise the strain, increasing the mortality rate and the rate of infection."

"So this threat...is a disease..."

Amelia glanced up suddenly. It was Dorian who had spoken. What caused her surprise was the change in his voice, and now, she saw, his entire demeanor. He was staring at her with eyes wide, face pale, hands and cane completely still on his lap. In fact his entire body was still. If she didn't know better she would say he seem horrifi...

A loud clatter sounded as Dorian's cane slid off his knees and hit the marble floor and all eyes turned towards the sound and Dorian. In a movement so fast she almost missed it, Mr. Grey had retrieved the cane and it was sitting in it's previous place on his lap, his hands grasping it tightly. His face and countenance back to it's usual lazy disdain. He absently picked at a speck on his trousers.

"Do go on Miss Storm, your little story was finally getting interesting."

She paused, looking down at her files absently.

"TRACE also monitors any sort of archaeological or historical discoveries for sudden changes that could show an interruption along the space-time continuum. We weren't aware of this development with the virus until we started hearing about... earlier outbreaks and pandemics, beginning in 1894. Ones that make the...more recent ones seem like a case of the sniffles."

"How recent, Miss Storm?" asked softly.

"Miss Storm is here to help us with a problem that was NOT originally on our history, not to tell us about our own natural future, no matter how dire it sounds." R glared around the table, taking time to focus on the scientist and the doctor in the room.

"She will not be answering questions about future events that may alter time and history further. Have I made myself clear?" A round of quiet "Yes mum"s filled the steely silence in the room. R's eyes came to rest on Amelia last. "This warning extends to you as well, Miss Storm."

Damn.

Amelia's lips closed and her eyes darted to the table and back up, hoping she looked appropriately contrite.

R's mouth twitched at a corner. "Good. Carry on.

Amelia cleared her throat again absently. "Well... the areas these pocket pandemics are affecting are all within 10 kilometers of a detected tear. We believe the other traveller is buying the engineered virus from future bio terrorists and selling his services to apply the virus to specific points in time. What will be known as the "Outbreak of 1984" was the first alteration to be made to the historical timeline that we detected, so we figured we'd start here, stop him before he began, so to speak."

"Miss Storm will be our liaison with TRACE in 2033 while we hunt down this other Traveller and intercept his dealings with these bio-terrorists," R continued. "Mina and Dr. Jekyll, you have been provided with the details of the mutated virus in your papers. You will study it and attempt to engineer a treatment able to be produced en masse if the occasion arises, as will TRACE on their end. Any equipment you need can be provided by the Captain. Quartermain and Sawyer you will be in charge of your usual duties as procuring and altering weapons. Mr. Grey, you and Skinner, as well as Sawyer will gather intelligence, find out about a man peddling a super virus, you will work with Miss Storm in this as well."

R stood, a gloved man in a suit flitting from seemingly nowhere to slide back her chair. All seated in the room rose as well, Amelia's eyes darting to Ishmael, suddenly at his Captain's side, handing him his sword, which he deftly attached to his belt. She hadn't realised he'd removed it.

"As of now, you are dismissed. I will be in contact and expect daily reports. Captain."

"Yes," said Nemo, standing stiffly at attention, but not so still Amelia didn't think he could unsheathe his sword and remove her head before she even realised he had moved. I'm not sure I'll ever forget just how dangerous these people are.

"I have provided transportation to and accommodations upon the Nautilus for all, if it suits you," the Captain continued.

"Coun' me in," Skinner quipped, turning suddenly, his coat swirling in his wake. He picked up his hat, placed it on his head and turned up his collar. "I'm never one to turn down free lodgins." Striding towards the doors and out as another butler grudgingly opened it for him.

R retreated through a set of much more subtle doors near her seat at the table and the rest of the guests began milling about, collecting their effects, talking quietly with one another and filing out the door and up the steps

Amelia strode to a chair near the door that held her coat and a beat-up black nylon shoulder bag. As she turned around she nearly dropped them as she found Sawyer less than a foot away from her, standing with his hands in his pockets and a crooked grin on his face. It seemed everyone else except the Captain and Ishmael, still at the table deep in discussion, had left.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you. We haven't properly met." He extended a rough, yet friendly hand towards her. "Sawyer, Agent Sawyer. US Secret Service."

She paused a moment, returning his gaze directly into his eyes before returning a firm handshake. She was used to men trying to intimidate her, talking down to her but all she saw was an open friendliness, and perhaps some unabashed flirtatiousness but saw no malice in his eyes.

"Yes, Tom Sawyer, I've read a lot about you, from your file."

"Uh, yes," He chuckled nervously, eyes flicking to the floor then back up to her. "Not the best way to get to know someone though, don't you think?"

"Perhaps," she countered, giving him a long look, toe to head. "Although yours seemed pretty accurate."

She smiled at his nearly panicked expression. He looked about to say something else when Captain Nemo and Ishmael approached.

"Will you be joining us on the Nautilus, Miss Storm?" he asked, his steely eyes contrasting with his stance that projected nothing but open hospitality.

"Yes, Captain, thank you. I believe the rest of my personal effects have been transferred to one of your cars."

"Excellent, I'll have them transferred to your room on the ship once we arrive," he said, inclining his head towards Ishmael who nodded briskly, hands grasping the front of his vest casually.

"Thank you," she smiled at the Captain and his first mate when Sawyer piped in.

"I'll be staying aboard the Nautilus as well, since we're both going the same way, may I escort you?" he asked, inclining his head towards to stairs outside the door, still with his sideways grin and a hand extended to hers which held her, apparently heavy-looking, bag.

She smiled slowly and swung her bag easily up and over her shoulder, draping her coat over her arm. "Thank you, Agent Sawyer, but I think I'll manage. I've encountered stairs before." She gave the surprised Sawyer a wink and proceeded briskly up the stone steps.

Sawyer took a moment to remember he was in the company of the two other men, closed his mouth with a smirk and jammed his hat on his head, hands into his pockets went through the doors.

The Captain was about to follow when he noticed Ishmael attempting to hide an amused smile.

"What is it?" he asked.

Ishmael glanced up the stairs then back to his Captain, not bothering to hide the smile now.

"I like her," he said, handing the Captain his coat. Nemo simply grunted and proceeded up the stairs, convinced he could hear a small chuckle behind him over the sound of his feet on the cold stone steps.