The Wings of a Butterfly

.:3:.

With the generators running non-stop, Simon and Greg could work around the clock on their ever-extending time machine. The only slightly disturbing thing nowadays was Julian, who insisted on being present and constantly being informed. It was annoying, to say the least, to explain what you did to an illiterate billionaire.

After several tries and just as many failures, Greg announced it was time for the next serious attempt at looking at the past. Maybe now they were allowed to have a longer look, enough to see more details, which could place their discovery in a time frame.

Julian couldn’t wait to begin. The photo of the man –by now he was again convinced it was real– was sitting on the desk, framed and all. He was anxious to see those eyes again. He wanted to see more. First of all he wanted to know who the man was, and second why he had been so sad.

But before they would find out, they would have to get another view.

All generators had to work at their hardest to supply the machine with enough power to start up. Once it was running, it would take a lot of energy, but at a steady level. As long as none of the machines failed, there would be vision.

And this time, the vision was sharp.

“Oh gods,” groaned Julian, getting up from his seat. He moved quietly, as if his movements would chase the image away, as he looked closely at the screen. “It’s like looking through a window…”

“It’s more like we’re looking into a mirror,” said Greg thoughtfully. His sharp eyes measured the room they saw, and he turned around. “See? It’s this room, only mirrored. We’re looking into the past of this very mansion, gentlemen…”

“Really!” Julian turned around, eyes wide in surprise. “That will make it easier to find out who that man is… All we have to do is look at the history of this manor. That shouldn't be too hard.”

The two scientists looked at each other with meaningful expressions, but didn’t respond. Why Julian was so obsessed with that man they would never know. They were far more excited about the whole result they got now… The image was amazing!

“Is it real time?” asked Julian, looking closer.

“What?” Simon blinked. “We’re looking more than two hundred years into the past… What do you mean, ‘real time’?”

“I meant if it would move,” explained Julian patiently. He knew Simon thought he was crazy, but that didn’t bother him. “Like if we keep this on for a day, a day will pass on the screen.”

“How would we know that?” began Simon, turning red in his face, but Greg hushed him.

“This is as new for us as it is for you, Julian,” he said friendly. “Excuse Simon, please, he’s very excited. Shut up,” he murmured from the corner of his mouth when his friend wanted to protest. “Let’s find out… We’ll keep this thing running for as long as we can, and take turns to watch it.”

“I’ll take first turn,” offered Julian generously. “You guys go get a bite, I promise not to touch anything. I’ll just sit here and watch, patiently, until something happens. Okay?”

Simon opened his mouth to protest –an automatic reaction– but Greg poked him. “Marvelous idea, Julian,” he nodded. “Make sure to give us a call if anything happens, hm? See you later then.” He tugged Simon to the door. “He spent a million pounds on this project, you moron…” he muttered quietly. “Who cares if he damaged anything?”

Julian heard him, and grinned. He wouldn’t dare to damage anything. That would spoil all his fun! He sat down and put his feet up, lighting a fresh cigar, and began the long wait for anything to happen on the screen. He wondered if they would have sound, too. After all, it looked like a television set…

Several hours later, he woke up because the monitor seemed to flash.

Julian yawned and stretched, not alarmed at all. Probably another power failure, or a glitch in the system. Drowsily, he looked at what the large panel would show, expecting nothing but furniture and paintings. His moves slowed down when he saw the man walking through the room. “Well hello there…”

Cautiously – he still had no idea how to react– Julian stood up, and walked closer to the screen. He noticed the image didn’t blow up or fade when he came closer, as if he really was looking through a window or the glass pane of a mirror. He could see even more, as he almost stood against the glass; he could see nearly everything in the room.

The man he’d seen before, with the powdered wig and white shirt, moved around through the room. He carried papers and a writing set, bringing them from one cabinet to another. Apparently he’d been writing while Julian was sleeping, because he was tidying up. When he moved closer to the window, Julian automatically drew back to the side. He didn’t have to worry though; the man didn’t see him. Of course he didn’t, said Julian sternly to himself. He wasn’t alive… But it looked so real!

“Who are you, handsome,” said Julian under his breath. “What have you been writing, why do you look so angry, and so sad before?”

The man was wearing pale blue knickerbockers and embroidered silk stockings, and that white shirt with a beautiful embroidered waistcoat. They matched his eyes, saw Julian, who was more and more intrigued. When the man came close to what had to be the mirror, Julian didn’t draw further back. From close by, he watched him straightening his wig. He was close enough to touch him if that that stupid glass hadn’t been in the way…

With the wig fixed, the man dragged his fingertips under his eyes and sighed visibly. Then he turned around, pulled on a pale blue coat, and went out of the room. Julian repressed the urge to call after him. Come back… You’re beautiful!

Oh… right, he had to phone Greg and Simon when something had happened. Still staring at the screen, Julian picked up the phone and told them the news. They would be able to see it on tape… And Julian would try to find out who he was.

Who are you… And how can I get to you… My beautiful.