The Map of Chaos (Trilogía Victoriana #3)(161)
Murray stared at him blankly for a few moments.
“Let’s go to the conservatory,” he said.
Once again, Doyle was forced to follow him. When they went in, he was surprised to find the place empty.
“Emma used to spend a lot of time in here tending her flowers,” Murray explained. “So I have taken everything out in order to fill it with mirrors. I am expecting another delivery from Bristol this afternoon, which Elmer ordered.”
“Splendid,” Doyle retorted. “Look, Murray, I sympathize with your obsess—I mean, your interest in finding Emma, but what I am telling you ought to interest you as well. If what the old lady predicted twelve years ago is true, and the end of the world is upon us, you won’t have much chance of finding Emma, will you? The quicker we sort out this mess, the better, because we don’t know how much time we have left. So, listen carefully: I think the key to it all lies in the story Baskerville told Clayton . . .”
“Baskerville?” Murray asked, looking at him in astonishment.
“Yes, Baskerville, Baskerville,” Doyle replied, trying not to lose his patience. “Apparently, your coachman went to see Clayton about six or seven months ago. It seems the old man had met one of Clayton’s twins in another world, and together they had tried to defeat a . . . Martian invasion. And so, when the Hunters came after him, he considered turning to Clayton. Wells hoped the Clayton in this world would be able to help him, the way his twin had in the other universe. Even so, for a while he refrained from going to see him—after all, he had been fairly successful in avoiding the Hunters for two years, and during the previous couple of months he thought he had finally given them the slip. But when Wells saw the watcher on the moor, he realized they had caught up with him again, and, too worn-out by then to continue facing the situation alone, he resolved to turn to Clayton, praying he would believe him and, more important, that he would offer some solution . . . Our Clayton did believe him, though he knew nothing about those killers. But when Baskerville described the symbol on their canes, he recognized it as the same eight-pointed star adorning the cover of The Map of Chaos! That is why he showed Baskerville the book, in the hope he might be able to give him some information about it, but the old man knew nothing . . . Although clearly the Hunters, the book, the invisible creature, and the journeys between worlds are all connected . . . We just have to find out how!”
Murray nodded as he glanced about thoughtfully.
“Hmm . . . how many mirrors do you reckon will fit in here, Arthur?” he said.
Doyle could contain himself no longer.
“But what the devil is the matter with you, Gilliam?” he exploded. “Do you care so little about what might happen to George and Jane? For God’s sake, man, they are your friends! And what about the universe? Don’t you care about the end of the world?”
Murray looked at him resentfully. “And what could I possibly do for the universe that you, our most eminent thinkers, aren’t already doing?” he said sarcastically. “Arthur Conan Doyle, Inspector Clayton, H. G. Wells, and his brilliant wife . . . With all of you working to solve the problem, I can sleep easily in the knowledge that the universe is in good hands. But meanwhile . . . who is bothering to look for Emma? No one!” he roared suddenly, pointing accusingly at Doyle, who contemplated him in astonishment. “And yet you promised you would help me find her! You swore to me at Brook Manor, before confronting the invisible creature, that if we came out of there alive, you would devote the rest of your life to solving that riddle. You told me if there was some way of getting to Emma, you would find it! And I believed you! I took you at your word! I believed your damnable chivalrous posturing!”
Doyle waited for Murray to calm down, looking at him sorrowfully, and then he said, “And I meant it, Gilliam. Otherwise, why would I be doing this? Or do you honestly believe this method of yours is going to work?” he exclaimed crossly, pointing at all the mirrors. “I am absolutely convinced that the only way to discover the path that leads to your beloved Emma is by understanding what is going on all around us. As I said before: everything is connected. Everything. If I manage to solve the case of this mysterious book, not only will I save Wells and probably the entire universe, I will also discover the underlying nature of things . . . Do you realize what that means, Gilliam? I used to toy with the idea of writing a book about Spiritualism, but what is that compared to a theory that explains everything we are and all that is around us? I shall call it the theory of manifold worlds. And, you see, Gilliam, once I have truly grasped reality, I will also understand how to travel between worlds and will be able to guide you to the Emma in the mirror, just as I promised.”
Murray looked skeptically at his friend, hesitating to show any enthusiasm. He was still angry, although he had to admit there was some sense in what Doyle was saying.
“Very well . . . ,” he muttered, “how can I help you?”
“In lots of ways. We have devised a plan, which I will explain later . . . but first of all, I need you tell me everything you discovered on your trips to the fourth dimension in the Cronotilus, because in light of what we know now, it seems increasingly clear that the pink plain is an antechamber between those parallel worlds. I am convinced it contains many clues, possibly even the solution of how to reach Emma.”
Murray looked at Doyle in disbelief and then smiled ruefully.