James Palmer - Shadows Through Time

“But what is most peculiar,” said Professor Challenger, “is the recent outbreak of madness all over the city.”

Richard Francis Burton stared at the big, bearded man and realized he didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. He’d scarcely been back in London for a month, but already he was caught up on what he thought was the important news of the day. That didn’t stop Professor George Edward Challenger from bending his ear as soon as the latest meeting of the Royal Geographical Society had adjourned, telling Burton of everything he had missed in the thirty-three months he had been away. Since Challenger held the rather infamous reputation for being a domineering and disagreeable sort, Burton was inclined to just let the man talk as the hall emptied of occupants. Now the place was empty, the hour late, and Burton had no interest in prolonged exposure to the man. Until, of course, he mentioned the madness.

“I’ve read about it in the papers,” said the explorer as he dashed out the remains of a cheroot in a silver ashtray. “But is it really all that peculiar?”

“It is when you consider those afflicted,” said Challenger, stroking his thick black beard with sausage-like fingers. “It is only affecting spiritualist mediums.”

Burton arched an eyebrow. He hadn’t realized the madness was so specific. “That is strange.”

“Mediums are already half mad if you ask me,” Challenger continued. “Half mad, or charlatans. But isn’t it strange that so many of them would be killing themselves or running deranged through the streets?”

“So it would seem,” said Burton, glancing at his pocket watch one final time and, spying a way out, said, “but, I’m afraid we must solve the mystery of the madness of the mediums another day. I have a prior engagement.”

Professor Challenger stared at Burton wide-eyed, taken aback at being so suddenly dismissed. “Oh, yes. Very well then. It was nice talking to you.”

The two rose from their chairs and Challenger offered Burton his hand, the much larger man giving it an almost bone-rending shake.

“And you,” said Burton half-heartedly.

He had heard stories about Challenger for years, but had never met the man until now. Challenger had made quite a name for himself while Burton was in Africa searching for the source of the Nile, going on an expedition of his own that caused a stir throughout London. Half the city thought him mad, while the other half thought him a charlatan.

Burton hadn’t made up his mind where he fell along that divide. But he had enough to worry about right now, so soon after returning from his explorations, a trip that had almost killed him. This business with his partner on the expedition, John Hanning Speke, who had succumbed to madness on the journey, and who had died in an apparent hunting accident before the two were to debate their findings before this very society, combined with Burton’s impending nuptials, had taken up most of Burton’s faculties. Now he wanted nothing more than a quiet evening among like-minded friends and plenty of brandy.

As the two men were about to part ways, a small, female voice from the other side of the vast hall said, “Excuse me.”

Both men turned at the sound. Across a sea of wooden chairs stood a tall woman in a dowdy, dark green dress of a style no longer in fashion. She stared at the two men nervously, her lace-gloved fingers clutching a large carpetbag.

“I’m sorry, Madam,” Challenger boomed. “The meeting ended an hour ago.”

“Oh dear,” she said. “I’m sorry. I’m terribly late, aren’t I?”

“Is there something we can help you with?” offered Burton.

“Yes, there is. I am looking for Captain Richard Francis Burton and Professor George Edward Challenger.”

Challenger’s eyes widened in surprise, and he ceased stroking his enormous beard.

Burton made a slight bow. “Well, Madam. You are in luck. I am Richard Francis Burton, and this is Professor Challenger.”

The woman brightened and closed the distance between them, extending her right hand. “Perhaps my timing wasn’t so unfortunate after all. My name is Elizabeth Marsh, and I need your help.”

Burton settled himself back into the chair he had occupied while Challenger wagged his gums at him. Challenger did the same. Elizabeth Marsh took one of the small wooden chairs used for the meeting and turned it so she faced them, sitting down and placing her carpet bag by her right side.

Burton observed the woman carefully. Her American accent identified her as a denizen of New England, if he remembered his dialects correctly. A plain woman, yet not unattractive, her sea-green eyes seemed to take everything in, a careful study of her surroundings. Her mouth seemed over large, the lips unnaturally thick, her ears small and almost nonexistent. Her dark brown hair was twisted into a tight bun.

Challenger slouched in his chair beside Burton, unsure of what to make of their latest acquaintance.

“What can we help you with, Miss Marsh?” asked Burton, afraid Challenger would show off some of his trademark bluster and rudeness.

She sat in silence for a long moment, choosing her words. “Perhaps it’s best I begin by showing you.”

The woman leaned over and reached into her voluminous carpet bag. After rooting around in it for half a minute, she pulled out a small object wrapped in what appeared to be dried seaweed. She unwrapped the little parcel and held it out for Burton and Challenger to see.

“My traveling companion and I discovered this off the coast of Rapa Nui, in the South Seas.”

Burton removed it from its seaweed wrapping and stared at it. It was a rather large, flat object composed of some blue-green stone, almost metallic, with a series of strange glyphs worked into it. Burton rubbed the images with his fingers. They had been worn smooth by time and the ocean, but were still very detailed. The subject matter seemed to concern some strange oceanic god Burton wasn’t familiar with. Three tiny, supplicating human figures lay prostrate before a grotesque, looming being with the head of a fish and a frog-like body. He’d never seen anything like it, and didn’t want to again. He passed it to Challenger, who turned it over in his large hands, studying its every line and texture.

“What do you make of it?” asked Elizabeth Marsh.

“It’s very unusual,” said Burton.

“Where did you say you found it?” asked Challenger.

“Off the coast of Rapa Nui,” said the woman.

Professor Challenger arched one of his vast eyebrows. “You mean underwater?”

“Yes,” said the woman, her green eyes glancing back and forth between the two men, as if seeking something.

“Are you a treasure, hunter, Miss Marsh?” asked Challenger.

“No,” she said with a grin. “Nothing like that. Merely an explorer, like yourselves.”

“What does this have to do with us, Miss Marsh?” asked Burton.

Marsh stared at them for a moment before speaking. “This artifact isn’t the only secret the oceans hold. I’m sure you are both aware of the recent bouts of madness occurring in your city among its more… sensitive inhabitants.”

“The mediums, yes,” replied Burton. “The Professor and I were just discussing it before you entered.”

“Then you must also know that this plague, if you will, has also been recorded all over the continent of Europe.”

“No,” said Challenger. “I was not aware of this.”