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truth is, the Circolar was rather vague…in regard to how exactly the Corona-Soter would help us. Or, not exactly vague—unfinished, it seems. So, even if I find this Corona-Soter, it could all be for naught.”
    “Then perhaps it was you, Bewfordios, who made the mistake.”
    “Revolvos. Wait—come back here! What’s your flight number? I could meet you. Do not disappear. Don’t you DARE disappear!”
    ********
    “Principal Provost.”
    “Don’t you dare!”
    “Principal Provost, wake up.”
    “Wake up?” Principal Provost opened his eyes. Drool was dripping from the side of his mouth and he was looking at—Concentric help him—cleavage! He’d fallen asleep on Mrs. Snipe’s shoulder. “I’m awake,” he stammered, sitting up. “I was trying to get a better look at—what I mean is, meditate on Mrs. Boncher’s wise words.”
    Principal Provost shifted his gaze as far away from Mrs. Snipe as possible, aware that she was smiling at him.
    Thank goodness, Mary Boncher appeared to be reaching the end of her speech. “And now I’d like to introduce Mimi Rosenbush,” she said. “Mimi is going to give us a preview of next year’s Parent-Teacher Partnership Program. I’m sure Principal Provost would agree, planning for our children’s future is an effort well worth…”
    Blast it! If only Revolvos had listened to me. If only I’m not too late. IF ONLY THIS WOMAN WOULD STOP TALKING!
     
     
     

Chapter 6
    DIARY OF JULIANNE WELLS
    London, England 1896
continued…
    Upon entering the study, the pounding, pulsating sound became almost overwhelming. My brother was nowhere in sight. Uncommonly eager regarding his safety and disregarding all protocol, I placed the teacup and saucer upon his desk, crossed to a bookcase in the back of the room and withdrew a tattered book entitled, Olmecs and the Cultivation of the Rubber Tree. Reaching into the empty space, I twisted a handle hidden therein; then, stood back and watched as the door to Herbert’s secret laboratory slid open.
    The pulsating sound, overwhelming a mere second ago, was now deafening. My eyes did not—could not comprehend the chaos which lay before me. A whirling tempest spinning out of control, yet like so many pieces of a shattered mirror, a storm clearly composed of what had once been my brother’s laboratory. Slowly, very slowly, for it was as if the sound itself was pulling me forward, I stepped into the room. Words cannot do justice to the moment, for as my foot entered the room, it was as if my body began merging, bit-by-bit, blurring into a vast swirling storm of debris.
    Frightened, I stepped back, relieved to find myself whole again. The experience had not been painful in a physical sense but, indeed, excruciating to my sensitive and yet unworldly perception.
    The next part is still not clear, whether I saw Herbert sitting inside his invention within the storm or only heard him, the sound of his voice imprinting the suggestion of him on my mind. Whichever, the image will be forever fixed, remembered as the very last time I saw my brother, combined with the sound of him shouting, “It works Julianne, it works!”
    Paralyzed, I remained on the edge of the precipice fearing for my life, for Herbert’s life, not for one instant believing that he was traveling through time or space; rather, that through his experimentations he had disrupted something. I could not imagine what that was, but likely, it was threatening to do great harm to Herbert, to our house, and possibly, to our world.
    All these thoughts ran through my mind as I stood there for what seemed an eternity, when suddenly, I became aware of the sound again…fainter now.
    I breathed for what I believed was the first time in several minutes, relieved to find I could now discern the outline of my brother’s form amidst the storm.
    Dazed, I watched, hopeful that my brother and the room would return to their solid state. Slowly, the oak walls and floor, tools, tables, chairs, lamps,