The Anomaly
Ed gazed apprehensively around the small,
cramped room. A complicated arrangement of electronic equipment had been set up on a workbench along the back wall. There were digital displays, several computers, dials, switches and various other bits and pieces, none of which meant anything to him. At the centre of the display was a large circular glass dish, which was emitting a pulsing red light and a constant low humming sound.
On entering the room, Bobby had been delighted to discover that James had a dog with him too, a ragged little bronze terrier who James had introduced as Toby and the two dogs were happily rubbing noses and sniffing at each other in the time-honoured fashion of such creatures all over the world. Ed had been left to his own devices for the moment, while Sherlock and James had an intense conversation at the back of the room, keeping their voices hushed so Ed wouldn’t overhear them. James appeared to be intrigued by his human visitor. He couldn’t stop staring at Ed and kept asking Sherlock questions, listening to the replies and then nodding, as though evaluating them. Eventually, he seemed satisfied and he approached Ed, smiling, his hands in his metal pockets.
‘A belated welcome to you,’ he said, in a refined Edinburgh accent. ‘Mr Holmes has fully appraised me of your unfortunate situation. I have to say I am fascinated. I’ve never had the opportunity to talk to a human before. Indeed, if there was only more time, I would love to study you.’
‘Erm…’ Ed felt slightly uncomfortable at this. ‘Study me, how?’
‘Well, there are a lot of questions that are just crying out to be answered,’ said James. ‘Why should you be the first softie in history to resist sleeping through the Calling? Why, after all these years, does the honour fall to you? What is so very different about you?’
‘Search me,’ muttered Ed.
For a moment James looked as though he might actually be thinking of doing exactly that. But he seemed to dismiss the idea. ‘If Sherlock was planning on bringing you back with him, I’d definitely have a whole list of questions for you. But he assures me that, for you at least, this is to be a one-way trip. Such a pity. What a missed opportunity to further our knowledge of humankind.’ He sighed then gestured to the banks of electronic equipment. ‘So, what do you think of our little brainchild?’ he asked.
‘It’s er… very… red,’ murmured Ed and James chuckled delightedly.
‘It is indeed,’ he said. ‘Red! I’d never thought of it like that.’ He turned to look at Sherlock. ‘So, where exactly is it you need to go?’
‘It’s in Manchester,’ said Sherlock. ‘You have your mobile?’
‘Of course.’ James reached into his pocket and brought out an identical phone to the one Sherlock used. ‘Never without it.’
‘Bring up Google maps while I look for the postcode,’ suggested Sherlock. He took out his pipe and tapped it. The curved Perspex screen slid down from the peak of his cap. He peered intently at nothing for a moment and then read the postcode aloud to James, who dutifully tapped it into his own phone. Then James walked over to the bench, picked up a lead that was plugged into one of the computers and connected the other end to his mobile. Almost instantly, a blurred map appeared on the screen. It focused itself and there was the familiar red marker indicating their destination.
‘The Peveril of the Peak,’ read Sherlock, looking over James’ shoulder. ‘Fine ales. Table football. It’s not a lot to go on but it’s the best clue we have.’
Ed chuckled. ‘Google maps are great, aren’t they?’ he said.
‘Yes, and perfectly suited to our needs,’ chuckled James, with evident pride. He studied the screen for a few moments. ‘Of course, for the moment we’re only using existing technology. Wait till you see what happens when we patch it in to the Anomaly.’ He waved a hand at the equipment, then studied the screen again. ‘The main road is a bit too public for my liking,’ he observed. ‘We need somewhere where your arrival is less likely to be observed by passers-by.’
Sherlock nodded. ‘Switch to street view,’ he suggested, ‘and we’ll look for the best place.’
As Ed watched in amazement, the pub itself appeared on the screen and it was just as he’d seen it in his vision, a small two-storey affair, completely clad in green tiles, pea green on the ground floor and a paler shade above. The name of the pub was spelled out in tiles on a brown band that ran right around the building between the two floors and it was also on a large painted sign above the main door. James used the mouse to track effortlessly around the side of the building to the back of it. ‘Ah look,’ he said, ‘there’s a little walled yard at the back with a gate set into it. That should be the ideal spot.’
‘Perfect,’ said Sherlock. ‘Lock onto those co-ordinates.’
James tapped some keys and the computer made a brief beeping sound, as though announcing it understood.
‘Locked on,’ said James. ‘Well, getting you there should be no problem at all. But what do you want me to do about bringing you back?’ He frowned. ‘I take it you are coming back?’
‘Of course I am.’ Sherlock touched his pipe and the screen slid silently back out of sight into the peak of his hat. ‘At least, I hope to be. Once I know what’s happening, I’ll text you a postcode and a time,’ he said, slipping the pipe and the phone back into his pockets. ‘Obviously, you’ll have to keep an eye on things here. I’m afraid it means that you’re going to miss the Agon.’
‘That’s no great loss,’ said James. ‘I swore the last time I went I would never do it again, not after hearing Sir Walter droning through one of his interminable ballads. Besides…’ He gestured to a pile of notes littering the workbench. ‘I’ve got plenty of reading to keep me occupied.’ He leaned closer as if to reveal a secret. ‘I’m working on another little modification for the Anomaly,’ he said. ‘If I stick at it till late tonight, I reckon I could have it all ready to go for next year’s Calling.’ He grinned mischievously. ‘It’s a voice activation module. Once it’s installed, it means you’ll be able to simply tell the machine exactly where you want to go… and it will take you there in the blink of an eye.’
‘Sounds good,’ agreed Sherlock. ‘But look, we mustn’t leave things too late. There has to be enough time for us to get back to our respective plinths. You don’t want to get frozen in here, do you?’
‘Good point. Same goes for you, of course. If I froze at least I’d be in the right city. How would they ever explain you being in an entirely different location altogether?’
‘They’d probably blame it on drunken students,’ said Sherlock. ‘That’s what they generally do with these things.’
‘Er… about the… Anomaly,’ interrupted Ed.
The two statues turned to look at him. ‘Yes?’ asked James.
‘It is … well, it is safe and everything? Isn’t it? Only, Sherlock told me about the cherub. You know, the little statue you sent to India…?’
James threw an accusing look at Sherlock. ‘Oh you did, did you?’ he growled. ‘That was useful.’
‘I merely mentioned it in passing,’ said Sherlock.
‘Hmm.’ For a moment James looked rather annoyed, but then he forced a smile and turned back to face Ed. ‘Well, yes, that was rather unfortunate,’ he admitted. ‘Something happened with that experiment that we hadn’t fully accounted for… but, we’ve had another two Callings since then so that little hiccup has been well and truly taken care of.’
‘A little hiccup?’ asked Ed. ‘Is that what you call it?’
‘Yes… just a wee… complication. But it’s all fine and dandy now. Seriously, you’d be in more danger crossing the road! The Anomaly is… well, it’s the future of travel. Just think of the tedium everyone endures when they’re going from A to B, even in this day and age! I mean, how long did it take you to get from Manchester to Edinburgh?’
Ed shrugged. ‘I was asleep the whole way,’ he said.
‘Well, fair enough, but some people can’t sleep on trains, can they? With our invention you simply step through a door and you’ve arrived at your destination. Instantly! Forgotten something? No problem, you can just nip back and pick it up, no matter what the distance. Of course, the only fly in the ointment is, how do we tell the world about it?’
Sherlock frowned. ‘I’d personally prefer to keep the invention for the sole use of us statues. I really don’t think humankind can be trusted to use it responsibly. They’d probably employ it as some kind of weapon.’
‘There’s something I don’t quite understand,’ said Ed.
The two statues looked at him. ‘What’s the problem?’ asked James.
‘Well, I’m trying to understand. Time has kind of stopped here in Edinburgh, right?’
James frowned. ‘Not stopped exactly. But it’s running in a different dimension.’
‘Yes, but it must still be moving forward normally in Manchester, so if we go there now… will it still be today… or will it be tomorrow?’
James looked thoughtful at this. ‘Well, now there’s a question. Of course, you must remember, that time is simply a concept created by man. And The Anomaly, of course, calibrates itself to the two different time spheres. So people in Manchester will still be interacting with you in real time. And it won’t be today or tomorrow, but… something in between.’ He noticed Ed’s bemused expression. ‘Well, put it this way. I’m sure you’ve read Stephen Hawking’s A Brief History of Time?’
‘No,’ said Ed. ‘Sorry.’ He thought for a moment. ‘But I’ve read The Time Machine,’ he offered.
‘Yes, but that’s not quite the same thing,’ said James. ‘That’s science fiction. This is science fact. If I had a couple of hours to spare, I’m sure I could explain it to you in a way you’d understand, but…’
‘We don’t have the luxury of time,’ interrupted Sherlock. ‘We need to go.’
‘Yes, of course.’ James smiled at Ed. ‘You’ll just have to trust me,’ he concluded and clapped his hands together as if to end the conversation. ‘Well, we’re all ready to proceed. If you would like to take up your positions?’
‘Certainly.’ Sherlock put a huge metal hand on Ed’s shoulder and guided him to the centre of the room, where a crude X had been made on the tiled floor with two lengths of gaffer tape. Bobby attempted to go with them but James raised a hand. ‘No, Bobby, you stay here with Toby,’ he said in a firm tone. ‘This is no job for a wee doggie.’
Bobby stood there, looking up at Ed and Sherlock, a pleading expression on his face.
‘Can’t he come with us?’ asked Ed.
‘How would we ever explain him?’ asked Sherlock. ‘It’ll be tough enough explaining me.’ He shook his head. ‘Sorry, Bobby, you wait here, there’s a good lad. We’ll be back before you know it.’
Bobby looked disappointed but went obediently back to stand with his canine companion. Sherlock moved Ed slightly to the left, so his feet were centred on the strips of tape. ‘Now, I want you to keep absolutely still until I tell you it’s safe to move,’ he said.
‘Er… OK,’ said Ed, warily. ‘It won’t… hurt,
will it?’
‘Not at all!’ James assured him. ‘But you may feel a little dizzy.’ He had now taken a seat in front of the equipment and was slightly to one side of it. Ed noticed that the circular red mirror was directly ahead now, pointed straight at the X. James’ fingers moved across a keyboard and the constant low hum that had been in the background ever since Ed had arrived began to rise rapidly in pitch, mutating from a deep rumble to a high-pitched squeal.
‘You might want to put your fingers in your ears,’ Sherlock advised him and Ed had to admit the sound was starting to become uncomfortable. He noticed that both Bobby and Toby were looking extremely agitated.
‘A slight side-effect that we’re still trying to find a cure for,’ shouted James over the screech. Ed took the advice he’d been given and jammed his index fingers into his ears, blocking out the worst of the noise.
‘All right, I’m engaging the location sensor now!’ bellowed James.
There was a deep crunching sound, like a heavy goods vehicle changing gears and the red light
began to mutate into a fierce white glow. Ed snatched in a breath because, as he watched, a circular opening appeared in the air directly in front of him, a shimmering, rippling band of light – and through that opening, Ed could see into another location entirely, an open space alongside a red brick wall. He was about to ask a question but then Sherlock was stepping decisively forward, one hand still on Ed’s shoulder and there was no option but to go with him. They passed through the circle and for the briefest moment, Ed
felt as though he was actually standing on thin air. James had been telling the truth, it didn’t hurt, but it was a most unpleasant feeling, as though every atom of his being had been rubbed out with an eraser and then replaced by an identical copy. There was a long moment where emptiness seemed to drift around him and he felt as though his stomach was about to give up its contents. Then suddenly, startlingly, solid ground connected with the soles of his shoes and directly behind him there was a brief noise, as though somebody had just pulled a large zip shut. He and Sherlock were now standing in a small concrete-flagged yard, the one that James had picked out on the computer screen. It was a bright, sunny morning, perhaps a few degrees warmer than it had been in Edinburgh and
somewhere nearby, birds were singing.
And then, a voice spoke right behind them. ‘What the blinking flip!’ it said.