"Really?" Ninurta growled. "Whut kinda self-respectin' space-time machine ain't got a cloaking device?"
Tibbs held his hands up in exasperation."As I was explaining, it DOES have a cloaking device, which is currently... indisposed" he offered lamely.
"So we got us a city of a blue million people, who apparently never sleep, and we're just going to... what? Pop in for a sec? Don'tcha reckon that might draw a bit of attention, which, as I might've mentioned, is the exact opposite of what we want to do?"
"If we 'pop in' at some out of the way place, it should go entirely unnoticed. Victorian Londoners are somewhat expert at minding their own business..."
Ninurta interrupted Tibbs by throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation. "Alright alright alright! Have it yer way - but iffen I gotta kill half of London, that's gonna get a mention in the papers, you can bet yer ass!" and he stalked off - as far as he could in the time machine - and sat in a sulk at the hatchway. The faster he got out of this rig the better... for all concerned.
Tibbs maneuvered the machine to an open area near something called "Liverpool Street Station", an odd name considering it fronted on Bishopsgate Street, and touched the spiky oddity down. Ninurta immediately threw the hatch open and bolted from the device, with BIAD close on his heels.
As soon as they were clear of the machine at a safe distance, Tibbs immediately took off again to await the outcome of the snatch operation.
Ninurta took in a breath and surveyed the surroundings to get his bearings. 1888 London was a dimmer place than he expected. There was what appeared to be a rail yard to his north, and a drunk immediately to his east, just where he wanted to go. The drunk stood there with his mouth gaping at the spectacle he had just witnessed.
"Great!" Ninurta mumbled.
Boy in a dress offered "Don't hurt him please, Ninurta. he's drunk. He won't remember any of this tomorrow..."
Ninurta grunted and started towards the drunk, BIAD quickening his pace to keep up - and perchance save the drunk from a severe beating, or worse. Instead of the expected mayhem, Ninurta merely brushed past the drunk, who was still gaping but recovered enough as the pair brushed past to ask "Wot was 'at, then?"
Ninurta growled back over his shoulder "It wuz yer mother! An' we're your brothers. She just birthed us..." For his part, Boy in a dress offered the drunk a winning smile, not realizing how terrifying that smile can be to the uninitiated, whereupon the drunk promptly passed out. Whether from drink or from terror, I shall leave it to the reader to discern.
Walking briskly across Bishopsgate Street, the unlikely pair entered a street named Widegate Street, and maintained their pace, Ninurta walking with a loping stride most unbecoming of the gentleman he was poorly attempting to portray. Meanwhile BIAD hustled along with a quick step, trying to keep up with his shorter strides. Ninurta was amazed at how truly dim it was in a city this large. The street lights didn't output anything like the light capacity he was used to, and the swirling fogs didn't help matters at all. It was just after midnight, and people were still bustling everywhere. This was NOT the 19th century village he had imagined.
Just as they crossed a street named Sandy Row, "Widegate" Street suddenly narrowed - they should have renamed this section "Narrowgate Street", Ninurta thought glumly. Just as they entered the alleyway, Ninurta spied a pair of people against the wall to his left. At first he thought it was a man attacking a woman - something he expected in the era, at this particular time - but as the pair got closer, he saw what they were really doing and... "Good gawd!" He exclaimed. "Why don' y'all git a friggin room!"
The man responded by grunting out "Why spend the extra? Now move along!" and kept right on going just as he had been, huffing and puffing.
The woman's only comment was a breathless "They've got special rooms for friggin'?"
BIAD questioned Ninurta as they walked past the spectacle in the darkened alleyway, asking "Is he hurting her?"
Ninurta responded with "Only if she's lucky, but I kinda doubt it" and kept striding.
As they neared the far end of the alleyway, a shadow detached itself from within a doorway and blocked their path. "Wot 'ave we got here, then? Out for a stroll are we? You look to be a mighty fine gentleman for this part of town, at this time of night, guv'ner."
I ain't got time fer pleasantries, fella. Stand aside." Ninurta growled at the shadow. At that point, 3 more shadows detached from various doorways to gather with the first.
"We seem to be in the majority, fine sir, an' we'd like to 'ave a li'l chat." There wasn't any friendliness in the man's voice, but he continued in the same vein. "A fine gen'leman such as yourself ought to realize the dangers inherent here, in this part o' town, but we ain't dangerous men, We're 'elpful men. Just gi' us any valuables ye've got, and we'll assure you safe passage to the end o' the street, we will. We're nice like that."
Ninurta growled at the man "I ain't got no valuables, but iffen you git outta my way, right now, I might not kill ye. How's that fer fair?"
The shadow chuckled. "I see you've not apprised yourself of the situation you're in. There's four of us, alleged to be hardened criminals all, and just one o' you, in all yer finery." He paused, then added "If ye've go' no valuables, maybe a little one on one time with the little missy there might do... Nah. We're going to take your valuables AND some one on one time wi' 'er!" and the four advanced on them, not realizing the terrible mistake they had made.
Ninurta didn't have time to release the latch on the sword cane, but it wasn't the first time he'd whooped a man with a mere stick, and probably wouldn't be the last. He lifted the cane and lashed out with it, striking the lead antagonist a smart crack on the side of his head, which sent him sprawling, interfering with his balance and applying lateral force at the same time. He then slid the cane through his hand and, grabbing the handle with his other hand, sent a linear jab straight into the next man's solar plexus just like he was shooting billiards. Turning back to the first assailant, he beat the man's head as he was trying to rise again until he collapsed, senseless, then treated the second, gasping, man the same
Turning to the other two, he found that they were already down, BIAD's hair still writhing like Medusa's snakes until it settled down and BIAD looked insufferably pleased with himself. "They aren't a problem anymore" he shrugged.
Ninurta picked up the men by their collars and summarily deposited them back into their respective doorways, appearing like they slumbered there... which Ninurta had already noticed was a habit in this age of London.
"What if they wake up and cause trouble?" BIAD asked.
"Ninurta snorted. "What're they gonna do? Grab the nearest constable and complain that someone they were trying to rob had the temerity to fight back? Nope, they ain't gonna say shit about it. Let's move." and he strode off continuing eastward.
At the end of the alley, they entered Raven Row right at the corner of a large edifice that turned out to be a convent and shelter house for unfortunates. Turning left at the east corner of the structure (and the end of Raven Row) put them on Crispin Street. Continuing along the front of the convent for a bit over half a block, they turned right onto Dorset Street.
About 2/3 of the way east on Dorset Street they found what they were seeking. An arch in the brick unibuilding along the north side of Dorset had a sign visible in the dim light above it proclaiming it to be the the entry to Miller's Court.
Entering the archway About 12:50 AM, and walking through a tunnel-like passageway between buildings, they came to a small open court lined with apartments - or what passed for apartments in this area, at this time. One, on a corner, had two windows - one larger, and the one closer to the corner smaller - And immediately around the corner a doorway into the same room. The smaller window near the corner had two broken panes in it, covered with a coat being used as a curtain. Down the corner of the apartment - just a single small room, really - on the same side as the broken window, ran what appeared to be a cast iron gutter spout, although it could have been made out of crockery - Ninurta wasn't sure, and wasn't going to tap it to find out.
From inside the room came a sweet voice with an Irish lilt, singing.
Ninurta whispered to BIAD "this is the place. Let's back out for now and watch from the arch." The pair retraced their steps to the archway, through it, and to the other side of the street where they could keep an eye on the arch. It was the only way in or out, and it was where they would catch their man.
Once safely on the other side of the street, BIAD spoke up and said "Pretty voice on the singing woman."
"Yup." Grunted Ninurta.
"Can't we get closer and listen?" BIAD prodded.
"Nope." Ninurta responded. "That's the victim singing, so she ain't dead yet."
"We could save her" BIAD offered.
Ninurta just tightened his jaw and, through gritted teeth, said " Nope. It'd change history". He was going to have to fight with himself to avoid doing just what BIAD had suggested. He stood, like a stone statue with feet shoulder width apart and his sword can firmly on the paving blocks, both hands gripped white-knuckle tight atop it in front of him.
And he waited.
********************
Ninurta had no way of knowing it, but he would again be reported in history books from this incident. BIAD had disappeared to God only knows where (he's never been accused of having a long attention span) when Laundress Sarah Lewis passed Ninurta at about 2:30 AM on her way through the arch to Miller's Court, and noticed him standing there watching. His opulent appearance made him stand out in that neighborhood, which got him noticed, and reported to the police after the murder was discovered. Poor Sarah had the willies, thinking she might have been the victim if not for mere chance. The thought was floated at Scotland Yard that HE was possibly Jack the Ripper... but he was not. Jack was already in the room with Mary Kelly, and by 2:30 AM was already at work. Though they did search for him, the constabulary never did find Ninurta, not surprisingly - which only added to the mystery of history.
Sarah, for her part, walked right past the 12 foot by 12 foot room where Jack the Ripper leisurely disassembled poor Mary Kelly, none the wiser, content that she had gotten the danger behind her, standing on Dorset street staring at the entryway to Miller's Court.
Jack worked his grisly deeds for a little over 3 hours, secure in the knowledge that no one would pass by and discover him, since this kill was not on the street as the others had been.
He didn't count on Ninurta and BIAD standing watch, waiting for him, already knowing where he was and what he was doing.
*******************
Tibbs held his hands up in exasperation."As I was explaining, it DOES have a cloaking device, which is currently... indisposed" he offered lamely.
"So we got us a city of a blue million people, who apparently never sleep, and we're just going to... what? Pop in for a sec? Don'tcha reckon that might draw a bit of attention, which, as I might've mentioned, is the exact opposite of what we want to do?"
"If we 'pop in' at some out of the way place, it should go entirely unnoticed. Victorian Londoners are somewhat expert at minding their own business..."
Ninurta interrupted Tibbs by throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation. "Alright alright alright! Have it yer way - but iffen I gotta kill half of London, that's gonna get a mention in the papers, you can bet yer ass!" and he stalked off - as far as he could in the time machine - and sat in a sulk at the hatchway. The faster he got out of this rig the better... for all concerned.
Tibbs maneuvered the machine to an open area near something called "Liverpool Street Station", an odd name considering it fronted on Bishopsgate Street, and touched the spiky oddity down. Ninurta immediately threw the hatch open and bolted from the device, with BIAD close on his heels.
As soon as they were clear of the machine at a safe distance, Tibbs immediately took off again to await the outcome of the snatch operation.
Ninurta took in a breath and surveyed the surroundings to get his bearings. 1888 London was a dimmer place than he expected. There was what appeared to be a rail yard to his north, and a drunk immediately to his east, just where he wanted to go. The drunk stood there with his mouth gaping at the spectacle he had just witnessed.
"Great!" Ninurta mumbled.
Boy in a dress offered "Don't hurt him please, Ninurta. he's drunk. He won't remember any of this tomorrow..."
Ninurta grunted and started towards the drunk, BIAD quickening his pace to keep up - and perchance save the drunk from a severe beating, or worse. Instead of the expected mayhem, Ninurta merely brushed past the drunk, who was still gaping but recovered enough as the pair brushed past to ask "Wot was 'at, then?"
Ninurta growled back over his shoulder "It wuz yer mother! An' we're your brothers. She just birthed us..." For his part, Boy in a dress offered the drunk a winning smile, not realizing how terrifying that smile can be to the uninitiated, whereupon the drunk promptly passed out. Whether from drink or from terror, I shall leave it to the reader to discern.
Walking briskly across Bishopsgate Street, the unlikely pair entered a street named Widegate Street, and maintained their pace, Ninurta walking with a loping stride most unbecoming of the gentleman he was poorly attempting to portray. Meanwhile BIAD hustled along with a quick step, trying to keep up with his shorter strides. Ninurta was amazed at how truly dim it was in a city this large. The street lights didn't output anything like the light capacity he was used to, and the swirling fogs didn't help matters at all. It was just after midnight, and people were still bustling everywhere. This was NOT the 19th century village he had imagined.
Just as they crossed a street named Sandy Row, "Widegate" Street suddenly narrowed - they should have renamed this section "Narrowgate Street", Ninurta thought glumly. Just as they entered the alleyway, Ninurta spied a pair of people against the wall to his left. At first he thought it was a man attacking a woman - something he expected in the era, at this particular time - but as the pair got closer, he saw what they were really doing and... "Good gawd!" He exclaimed. "Why don' y'all git a friggin room!"
The man responded by grunting out "Why spend the extra? Now move along!" and kept right on going just as he had been, huffing and puffing.
The woman's only comment was a breathless "They've got special rooms for friggin'?"
BIAD questioned Ninurta as they walked past the spectacle in the darkened alleyway, asking "Is he hurting her?"
Ninurta responded with "Only if she's lucky, but I kinda doubt it" and kept striding.
As they neared the far end of the alleyway, a shadow detached itself from within a doorway and blocked their path. "Wot 'ave we got here, then? Out for a stroll are we? You look to be a mighty fine gentleman for this part of town, at this time of night, guv'ner."
I ain't got time fer pleasantries, fella. Stand aside." Ninurta growled at the shadow. At that point, 3 more shadows detached from various doorways to gather with the first.
"We seem to be in the majority, fine sir, an' we'd like to 'ave a li'l chat." There wasn't any friendliness in the man's voice, but he continued in the same vein. "A fine gen'leman such as yourself ought to realize the dangers inherent here, in this part o' town, but we ain't dangerous men, We're 'elpful men. Just gi' us any valuables ye've got, and we'll assure you safe passage to the end o' the street, we will. We're nice like that."
Ninurta growled at the man "I ain't got no valuables, but iffen you git outta my way, right now, I might not kill ye. How's that fer fair?"
The shadow chuckled. "I see you've not apprised yourself of the situation you're in. There's four of us, alleged to be hardened criminals all, and just one o' you, in all yer finery." He paused, then added "If ye've go' no valuables, maybe a little one on one time with the little missy there might do... Nah. We're going to take your valuables AND some one on one time wi' 'er!" and the four advanced on them, not realizing the terrible mistake they had made.
Ninurta didn't have time to release the latch on the sword cane, but it wasn't the first time he'd whooped a man with a mere stick, and probably wouldn't be the last. He lifted the cane and lashed out with it, striking the lead antagonist a smart crack on the side of his head, which sent him sprawling, interfering with his balance and applying lateral force at the same time. He then slid the cane through his hand and, grabbing the handle with his other hand, sent a linear jab straight into the next man's solar plexus just like he was shooting billiards. Turning back to the first assailant, he beat the man's head as he was trying to rise again until he collapsed, senseless, then treated the second, gasping, man the same
Turning to the other two, he found that they were already down, BIAD's hair still writhing like Medusa's snakes until it settled down and BIAD looked insufferably pleased with himself. "They aren't a problem anymore" he shrugged.
Ninurta picked up the men by their collars and summarily deposited them back into their respective doorways, appearing like they slumbered there... which Ninurta had already noticed was a habit in this age of London.
"What if they wake up and cause trouble?" BIAD asked.
"Ninurta snorted. "What're they gonna do? Grab the nearest constable and complain that someone they were trying to rob had the temerity to fight back? Nope, they ain't gonna say shit about it. Let's move." and he strode off continuing eastward.
At the end of the alley, they entered Raven Row right at the corner of a large edifice that turned out to be a convent and shelter house for unfortunates. Turning left at the east corner of the structure (and the end of Raven Row) put them on Crispin Street. Continuing along the front of the convent for a bit over half a block, they turned right onto Dorset Street.
About 2/3 of the way east on Dorset Street they found what they were seeking. An arch in the brick unibuilding along the north side of Dorset had a sign visible in the dim light above it proclaiming it to be the the entry to Miller's Court.
Entering the archway About 12:50 AM, and walking through a tunnel-like passageway between buildings, they came to a small open court lined with apartments - or what passed for apartments in this area, at this time. One, on a corner, had two windows - one larger, and the one closer to the corner smaller - And immediately around the corner a doorway into the same room. The smaller window near the corner had two broken panes in it, covered with a coat being used as a curtain. Down the corner of the apartment - just a single small room, really - on the same side as the broken window, ran what appeared to be a cast iron gutter spout, although it could have been made out of crockery - Ninurta wasn't sure, and wasn't going to tap it to find out.
From inside the room came a sweet voice with an Irish lilt, singing.
Ninurta whispered to BIAD "this is the place. Let's back out for now and watch from the arch." The pair retraced their steps to the archway, through it, and to the other side of the street where they could keep an eye on the arch. It was the only way in or out, and it was where they would catch their man.
Once safely on the other side of the street, BIAD spoke up and said "Pretty voice on the singing woman."
"Yup." Grunted Ninurta.
"Can't we get closer and listen?" BIAD prodded.
"Nope." Ninurta responded. "That's the victim singing, so she ain't dead yet."
"We could save her" BIAD offered.
Ninurta just tightened his jaw and, through gritted teeth, said " Nope. It'd change history". He was going to have to fight with himself to avoid doing just what BIAD had suggested. He stood, like a stone statue with feet shoulder width apart and his sword can firmly on the paving blocks, both hands gripped white-knuckle tight atop it in front of him.
And he waited.
********************
Ninurta had no way of knowing it, but he would again be reported in history books from this incident. BIAD had disappeared to God only knows where (he's never been accused of having a long attention span) when Laundress Sarah Lewis passed Ninurta at about 2:30 AM on her way through the arch to Miller's Court, and noticed him standing there watching. His opulent appearance made him stand out in that neighborhood, which got him noticed, and reported to the police after the murder was discovered. Poor Sarah had the willies, thinking she might have been the victim if not for mere chance. The thought was floated at Scotland Yard that HE was possibly Jack the Ripper... but he was not. Jack was already in the room with Mary Kelly, and by 2:30 AM was already at work. Though they did search for him, the constabulary never did find Ninurta, not surprisingly - which only added to the mystery of history.
Sarah, for her part, walked right past the 12 foot by 12 foot room where Jack the Ripper leisurely disassembled poor Mary Kelly, none the wiser, content that she had gotten the danger behind her, standing on Dorset street staring at the entryway to Miller's Court.
Jack worked his grisly deeds for a little over 3 hours, secure in the knowledge that no one would pass by and discover him, since this kill was not on the street as the others had been.
He didn't count on Ninurta and BIAD standing watch, waiting for him, already knowing where he was and what he was doing.
*******************
Diogenes was eating bread and lentils for supper. He was seen by the philosopher Aristippus, who lived comfortably by flattering the king.
Said Aristippus, ‘If you would learn to be subservient to the king you would not have to live on lentils.’ Said Diogenes, ‘Learn to live on lentils and you will not have to be subservient to the king.’
Said Aristippus, ‘If you would learn to be subservient to the king you would not have to live on lentils.’ Said Diogenes, ‘Learn to live on lentils and you will not have to be subservient to the king.’