Ahead of his time
‘One has to consider the utility of every discovery: our fellows like to cause ripples not crashing waves. Whilst the Geographical Society is indebted to the toil of talented amateurs, such as yourself, each submission must be met with careful consideration.’
‘I understand, fully.’ Little beads of sweat were beginning to glisten on Perkin’s brow as he guided the official to his study. In his eagerness for secrecy he had taken the liberty of dismissing his servants for the evening and now feeling lost within his empty home he had mislaid the key to his tantalus. Would it seem impolite not to offer his guest a small brandy?
‘You’ve a fine collection. Only apes?’ the official noted staring at a row of skulls arranged in order of size. He plumped himself casually into a red leather chair; a little too presumptuously for Perkin’s taste.
‘All of the known great apes.’
‘Except homo sapiens,’ the guest noted.
‘I keep that skull safely in here.’ Perkin grinned as he tapped his head. His guest remained stoic. ‘It’s but a modest selection, recently acquired after I heard of Mr Darwin’s discoveries in the Galapagos Islands. His theories on natural selection were both stimulating and disturbing.’ Perkin sighed as he remembered the long dark night of his soul when his faith was challenged by a new scientific paradigm. ‘A friend of mine, Charles Dawson, and I have a small wager as to who will discover the missing link first, but I fear that Sussex, his preferred hunting grounds, only yields Bronze Age forts and cream teas.’ The amateur waited to see if there would be any response in his guest’s expression but nothing was forthcoming. ‘Alas, I may have stifled all of our ambitions. My discovery is quite unique.’
Theatrically Perkin pulled on his watch chain and produced a small key which he excitedly unlocked a drawer in a nearby bureau. A waft of lavender and mothballs filled the room as he struggled with a heavy object wrapped in hessian. He thudded the object onto his desk with a relieved sigh.
The official waited nonchalantly for an explanation.
‘It’s a fossil unlike any other! I found it in Lulworth Cove quite by accident, near Stair Hole.’ The eager host ushered the official closer. ‘With this rock I may prove that the Earth is but a few thousand years old.’
They both peeled back the coarse cloth. In the grey stone there glistened an odd flint-coloured shape, fractured yet distinguishable.
‘I think it’s a caligus.’
‘Let’s not get carried away with ourselves,’ the official said as he stared at the petrified sole, ‘what makes you think this is a Roman shoe?’
‘Look at the inscription. It’s dedicated to the goddess of victory - Nike! Look at the craftsmanship – the Ancients were truly gifted. Perhaps it’s an artefact from Atlantis.’
‘It’s certainly baffling,’ the guest said coolly, ‘naturally I will have to discuss this with the Society before I can confirm its acceptance but I feel that would be just a formality.’
‘Naturally,’ Perkin replied excitedly. Then remembering where he had hidden the key to the tantalus he scampered to gather some glasses. ‘This calls for a celebration.’
Checking that Perkin was beyond earshot the guest pulled out a brass pocket watch and allowed it to gather light from the gas lamp. He whispered, ‘Immanuel Perkin, archaeology, 1897’ a faint image flickered on its dial responding to his voice pattern –
amateur archaeologist disappeared under mysterious circumstances in August 1897.
‘Charles Dawson, same.’ The screen flashed red with text –
cross reference Piltdown Man hoax.
He quickly digested the information then slipped the watch back into his pocket. Then picking up the fossil he waited for his host to return.
The blow came suddenly. Perkin careered across the room and fell face first onto his desk. The guest checked his pulse – he was dead. ‘Sorry old chap but if they’re struggling with evolution how will they comprehend temporal mechanics?’
The official wiped his brow before making his call. The killing was a necessary evil. ‘I’ve found Brandt, well traces of her. That stupid b***h only jumped back to the Cretaceous, one of her trainers is fossilised amongst some ammonites.’
‘Who knows about this?’ a voice hissed from the watch.
‘It’s not a problem. Just bring the carriage quickly. I have everything here that I need – Perkin always wanted to be in the history books and I’m about to grant him that wish. His friend will be pleased, too. I promise there'll be no more c**k-ups with the timeline.’ Carefully the man picked through the ape skulls measuring a jawbone to fit Perkin’s skull.
Then, opening his pocket watch, he said, ‘Piltdown, England – location?’
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