His shoes hit the hard cold floor of a dark room. James stepped forward, blinking.

Dark soft mounts took shape in front of him, sharply lit by bars of fluorescent lights mounted on the tall ceiling. The unknown room must be a part of the old original bunker that Agency was founded in.

Where did the Director go?

“Sir?” He called out.

“Over here Jameson.” The Directors voice echoed from somewhere behind the shapes.

Verena’s shoes tapped on the ground behind him. He turned. Her face guarded, posture straight as an arrow. To most she was hard to read, but working with her for so long had allowed him to see though the cracks.

She was anxious.

“He’s over here.” He beckoned her to follow, then turned, confident she would follow as he stepped towards the strange lumpy shapes.

With his vision cleared and his bearings established, it became clear that these shapes were sheets draped over, things. He brushed his finger over a corner; the form underneath was solid and cold.

“They’re machines, of sorts.” A new crackled male voice said.

James’s hand flinched back. Feeling caught. He looked up, searching for the speaker.

“Just over here!” The man said.

James followed the voice around a cover machine in front of him, stepping out into an opening.

He rubbed his knobby hands together, approaching them. The speaker, a frizzled white haired man with large glasses, sporting a pair of full body coveralls that reminded james of his old racing suit, waved at them. He certainly didn’t look as stately as his name sounded. His large rectangular glasses reflected the light above, rendering his eyes unseen. His gray and brown hair fell in strange wisps, like it’d been windblown.

Behind him, stood a behemoth of a machine. The drawing on the paper.

The time machine.

He finally realized how it sized up compared to the small drawing on paper. It took up most of the room, nearly reaching the ceiling. The main part of the machine was a large circular frame. With a heavy base filled with wires and electrical bits and bobs. Electric or Magic?

A time machine felt magical, or a strange evolution between magic and technology. Surreal.

James stared at it, hardly feeling verna bush past him.

The Director stepped up beside the strange man. “This is Professor Theodore. The man who’s completely a feat no one else has.”

Professor Theodore Chuckled. “Only because you locked me down here. “

The Director side eyed the professor.

James looked between the two

Had he locked him down here?

“Has it been tested?” Verena stood a few feet away from the machine, nearly glaring at it.

The Professor waved a hand at the coved objects. “It’s had many drafts before it.”

James stepped back into the shadow of the nearest cloth covered machine. A low, angular, long shaped contraption, juts high enough he could rest his shoulder on it. Better to let Verena pepper Professor Theodore and the Director with her questions. In the meantime, it wouldn’t hurt to peek at what else was in here.

Nono of the machines were at large as the portal, so they were either dissembled bits, or other unseen inventions of the Agency hidden down here.

He lifted the edge of the cloth, releasing little particles in the air. The light from the ceiling illuminating them like fairy dust.

The hazy glint if unpolish metal was revealed, he lifted the cloth further. Revealing glass and pipes, and a tire?

The contraction resembled a old car, assembled with sharp aerodynamic angles, and pipes protruding out the back window. Or at least it looked like the back window. He’d have to unveil the rest of the vehicle to see.

“Jameson” The Director called.

“Yes sir?” James let the canvas fall back over the invention.

“Have you been listening?”

Not in the slightest.

“Hah, a man after my own heart.” The Professor chuckled. “Come, come. The portal is much more interesting.”

Verena now stood, arms crossed, eyeing the portal machine suspiciously, reluctantly submitting to the fact the mission. Not that they really had a choice

With Verena’s questions asked, James could ask his.

“So, How does it work?” He stepped up to the circular portion of the device, towering above him, the top of it just shy of the ceiling. Seriously, the ceiling must be nearly twelve feet height. Strange for something that felt like a basement.

“It works… in too long of an explanation for me to give it to you right now. But it does work.” The Professor replied.

Was it too long or was he not allowed to?

James pursed his lips and studied the machine. So long at it worked.

“That’s enough for today, you’ll see it in action tomorrow.” The Director handed Verena a large pale orange envelope. “Give these a read though. Wardrobe will have left things of your trip in your quarters. Familiarize yourself with them. Be ready to leave by eight hundred tomorrow. You’ll receive a pass to portal back here.”

Verena’s brow wrinkled. “So soon?”

“Yes. I shouldn’t have to expect any less from you.” The Director grippe her shoulder as he passed, walking back to the tele-platform.

“Yes sir.”

James pressed his lips together. He was right, they were supposed to be able to turn on a dime.

They all watched as the Director vanished on the platform in a purple fuzz.

Verena let out along sigh. “I’m going back.” She said as she started towards the portal.

“See you, later.” James called after her.

I wish she could be excited as me about this

“I supposed you better get to your studying too then.” Theo smiled at James. “And I should prepare this for the journey.” He patted the machine affectionately.

“Yeah…” James trailed off, staring at he information packet the Director had handed him.

Time travel, huh. What a day.

He didn’t recall the trip back to his quarters, lost in the tail end of a adrenaline rush of emotions. Or maybe he was just tired. Sure, he zipped around the world all the time, going from the Western coast of Canada, to within the German slice of the alps in a split second. Teleportation was normal. Yet time travel still felt like an entirely far fetched and sparkly concept.

Teleportation still obeyed the laws of time. You just got somewhere really fast. Time travel, meant you, he frowned, not finding the right word. Skipped? Rewound? Or maybe it really didn’t have any effect.

Time was a human construct in a way. Clocks and calendars just recorded a passing and gave us a feeling of control over the future. Tomorrow was a Tuesday. A solid fact.

A pair of brown leather cases sat outside his doorway, accompanied by a small circular box. He put the edge of the information packet in-between his teeth, carried the two cases inside, nudged the circular box along with him, kicked the door closed, and unceremoniously flung the envelope on his bed with a toss of his head.

He set the cases down and flicked the clasps open on the bigger one. A few neatly folded suits lay inside. One of plain brown wool, another of darker blue, with a few gold details, and one of a matte black. The first and the last where obvious, a plain day suit, and a dress suit, although that was likely not normal for serving staff, but they were always useful to have.

But the blue suit? He tugged it out. Holding the jacket up by the shoulders. Must be his chauffeur uniform. Didn’t chauffeurs usually have a hat? He eyed the circular box lying dejectedly by the doorway. Sure, enough a stiff hat sat nestled inside.

How the wardrobe managed to get everything to fit so well always seemed like magic to him. He swept his hair back and tugged the cap on, peeking in the mirror across the room.

It looked good.

Always a perk when the costumes for the mission made you look good.

Speaking of… He looked at the envelop on the bed.

James sat down on his bed and ripped the packet open. The director had said to study or read or something. All he remembered was words he’d heard faintly, too caught up in the time machine to focus.

Papers spilled out of the packet, along with a small book that landed on the floor between his feet with a thunk. He picked it up. Wrapped in worn bright blue canvas, the spine wrinkled from its long life. Bold black writing declared the title on the front.

Motors and Motoring.

The title really got to the point. He flipped through it.

Of course, he was a chauffeur, who knew far too much about cars that anyone would known when they first came into the public use. He set it to the side.

He had less than twenty-four hours, to prepa- no to feel at least tangible feel like he could be dropped into the nineteen hundreds and not stick out like a sore thumb. He studied the first page of the small stack, cycling through various British accents as he went.

It was a brief history. Information on the current monarchy, how they’d came to power. The circle of nobility, little notes under each houses name with the head, and a few tidbits that’d prove useful for information. Important sure Boring.

But boring. Politics. Why’d they all get caught up in some form of politics.

He flipped through the papers, skimming the paragraphs to pick out important bits. He got back and study the rest later, but if he was to be a part of the serving staff he could give himself a little leeway to learn about houses and politics onsite. So long as he had a basic understanding, he should be fine.

James set to memorizing his alias page first. He’d found a small paragraph listing any sort of history he had with Verena’s character. They were of different class obviously, so their interaction should be limited, but they would need to connect at points. At least the familiarity of being from the same place, and being of similar age, they’d likely have interacted growing up and would have a, if slightly formal, friendship.

He mulled over the mission objective: Unseat the heir to the throne by whatever means necessary. Did that include assassination?

What parameters would they have to be wary of to not disrupt history too much? Changing who landed on the throne was a pretty big play as it was. It could change the bloodline, the heirs that took the throne afterward, even what wars may occur. But with the Directors phrasing it seemed the main objective was to simply make sure the individual who was historically already in line, didn’t make it there at any cost. With no matter who took their place.

So what made this heir so dangerous? He fumbled for the papers again, which were now spread out over the bed. The heir would be part of the royal family; there had to be some historical context here. Finding a vaguely relevant paper he started reading, looking for anything.

His watch buzzed. Sending vibrations through the paper, causing them to rustle.

Eh?

James push himself out of the pile of papers he’d laid face first onto.

Oh.

He’d fallen asleep reading.

His watch buzzed again.

James dry eyes registered the digital screen in a blur. He squinted, making out the words.

Seriously what is- oh.

The portal.

The teleportation notification flashed on his watch.

He accepted it with a press

What was the time? Clearing the notification set the watch back to its main display, showing the time.

Seven fifty.

He had ten minutes to get, no to be ready to time travel.

A fantastic start.

James shuffled the papers together, not bothering to stuff them back into the envelop, and instead set them in the suitcase he’d left open. Throwing the chauffeurs uniform on the bed, he closest the suitcases, and started shrugging the uniform on.

He briefly assessed himself in the mirror, shoes, weirdly long socks, pants, jacket, and.. He swept his hair back, hat where did his hat go?

His watch beeped, alerting him that the invitation would run out soon.

Where was his hat? Didn’t he just have t on. He shoved the suitcases around. Nothing. The hat box was still empty, so he hadn’t put it back there.

His bed!

He turned to it. But the only thing on it was a wrinkled bedspread.

Beep, Beep.

His watch became more insistent.

There, under his bed, a shiny rim peeked out.

The hat

He nabbed it, shoved it on his head. Grabbed the suitcases with one hand and nearly punched the doorway with his watch hand.

Beeeeep. The doorway lit in purple in the brink of time.

James leaped through, shakily landing on the other side clutching his cases with both hands.

His hat tumbled off his head, landing on the floor at his feet. “Whoops.”

“Here.” Verena bent and pick it up, tucking loose hairs under it as she placed it on his head.

“Thanks.” He adjusted his grip on the cases, giving on to his other hand.

Verena huffed, bringing James’s attention to her again. She stood arms crossed, almost looking comical in her 1900th century suit. A spring green assembled in the style of a loose Professoress, shoes, a ribbon-adorned hat, and a fur coat, which she held in her arms.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in such a cheery green before,” James said. Tipping his chafferers hat at her.

Before she could answer, assuming she wanted to, the Professor approached him. Shadowed by the director. “Wonderful, just on time. Can’t be late to traverse through the time space continuum now can we!”

James wasn’t sure if it was a rebuke or simply a remark.

“Come.” Theo waved them back towards the time machine.

Bubbles rose in James chest, his breath hitching.

This was it. it was happening now.

“So, how does this work? Do you start it and then we step through, or do we stand in it and then you started it or does it like suck us up from where we’re standing, or-“ James let the questions out.

“Nerd.” Verena muttered.

Professor Theodore laughed. “I will start it and then you’ll enter.”

“Oh, okay.” James withheld the rest of his questions.

“You may start it.” The Director ordered, as he moved their cases closer to the portal.” I’ll send these in before you.”

James nodded wordlessly, eyes glued to the professor as he pressed a few buttons on a control panel lined to the machine. He fought the urge to jump up and down like an ecstatic five-year-old.

They were about to make history! To leave this time that he knew so well, and to explore another. He glanced at Verena, who was as still as stone, worry simmering under her solemn expression.

Theodore pressed a few odd-ended buttons and then placed his hand on a large lever, like a throttle on a ship, then pulled it down. The time portal buzzed, it grew louder until it faded into a softer fizz.

The portal lit up in the blink of light. Illuminating the covered inventions behind them and casting them into bright oblivion. Beams emitted from exit points inside the circle and bounced off the interior. Again, and again, and again. Until there was a solid curtain of light inside it. Glowing and pulsing.

Time.

Time was electric blue.

James squinted, the light intensifying by the second.

The Professor gave them a thumbs up, and James found himself looking at Verna.

He stepped over to her. “Look, you’re the best agent I know, and you’ve been my one and only friend for a long time. A little stint through time never hurt anybody.”

I hope

He gave her hand a quick squeeze. “It’ll be fine. Just like the movies!”

Or something.

James tugged Verena closer. The Director shoved their cases through the portal; they vanished without a sound, as if through a pool of water.

They both stood right up in front of it now. The portal bathed them in bright blue light, blinding them from any other color. He glanced back at Verena once more, then he inhaled deeply, and stepped into the portal. His existence in his time, disappearing and pulling her into another.