A Moment of Silence

Chapter 2

"Mr. Linton!"

I shot up immediately, and found complete darkness. Stretching out one hand in a searching manner, I eventually slammed my fist down on something as hard as rock. A strangled groan emitted from someone, and I grinned, immediately knowing who it was.

"Hello there, Sir! Where are we?"

"That is what I'd like to find out," answered a familiarly cold voice.

A click and a few shuffles later, the chaise door opened, flooding my eyes with light. I squinted and looked down, trailing after Mr. Ambrose's tailcoat which he seemed to have retrieved and put back on.

Then I saw what was outside.

This definitely wasn't London. No, this couldn't be London at all. There were bird like metal objects flying in the air, buildings were entirely too high to be normal- and the people. Good lord the people!

Women walked around in strangely colored underwear, with pants hiked up higher than the knee. None of them looked at each other like it was strange.

The men engaged in this too. They wore beige colored trousers, with the strangest looking shirts I had ever seen. Other men wore colored short-sleeved shirts with the same beige colored trousers, also at knee length. No canes, no tailcoats, no modesty at all, and quite often, you'd see navy blue trousers of all lengths, worn by both sexes!

My mouth still wide open I slowly turned my head to Mr. Ambrose.
His mouth was slightly open too. Much wider than normal. If the scenery in front of me wasn't surprising enough, the look on his face was.

Then I stared at him closer, and if my mouth couldn't have stretched any further, it still did. That wasn't Mr. Ambrose!

"Who the hell are you?" I asked the not Mr. Ambrose man next to me.

The person rolled his eyes.
"Mr. Linton, I do not have time for-"

He turned towards me and his eyes narrowed wildly into a suspectful glare.
"Who are you?"

I scowled at the pseudo-Ambrose.
"You bloody bastard! I don't know who you are, and how you know my surname, but you better bloody tell me where the real Rikkard Ambrose is!"

The pseudo-Ambrose relaxed and let out a sigh.
"It's you alright. No figment of my imagination would talk to me like that."

He frowned and stared deeper into my eyes.
"Same voice, same eyes, but..."

"But what?"

"Your hair is lighter. In color. Somewhat blonde," he said too nonchalantly for my liking.

"What?"

I reached up and easily plucked a single strand of hair from my head.

Bloody hell! Blonde indeed!

I reverted my gaze back to the pseudo Ambrose.

"And your hair is brown now."

His eyes narrowed infinitesimally.
"Are you lying to me Mr. Linton?"

A chill went through my body but I ignored it.
"No I am not lying fake Mr. Ambrose. Look."

I forcefully plucked a single strand of hair from his head, and shoved it in front of his face. He stared at it for a moment, but he didn't seem to be shocked.

Instead he simply flicked it to the ground and said, "Come."

I stomped my foot on the ground. There was no way I was going anywhere with a brunet Ambrose.
"Why should I go anywhere with you? I am not even positive of who you are."

He spinned around and cupped my face with familiarly tender hands.

Then I was forced to know, with a single gesture, he still was indeed Mr. Ambrose. No other man had ravaging oceans for eyes like him, and no other man could survey me thoroughly like him. I stared into his eyes awkwardly until he was satisfied.

When he was, he spun back around swiftly.
"Knowledge is power is time is money, Mr. Linton. We must find out where we are."

He walked forward at a painfully fast pace, making my legs be forced into working faster than their supposed  to. While we sped through unknown streets, I tried to take in as much as I could.

Everything was so different from the quiet London I knew. The streets were busier with colored moving objects, each with two, parallel, black, circular things spinning under it. They whizzed up and down on a paved road. My guess was those were the modern transportation devices.

Once in a while, a loud, humongous, white, metal bird would zip through the sky, then disappear into the clouds.

Everything was more colorful. Everything was more loud. Everything was new.

As we continued, I noticed we- or rather Mr. Ambrose got a few stares. Most of then came from women, and if they weren't looking at his clothing, they certainly noticed his face.

Subconsciously, I scooted closer behind him, only to find most of their gazes directed towards me now, with glares of pure venom instead of ogling, before proceeding to continue on their way.

I almost didn't recognize the familiar voice from all the distractions.

"Sir! Sir! Oh forget it, Sahib!"

"No way!" I thought internally. "It couldn't be..."

Karim?

I turned around to find another version of Karim, a much more gentler version, not as large- but just as intimidating. Also, the beard was gone replaced with a stubble. I couldn't help but giggle a little.

Mr. Ambrose had already turned around at this point and was examining the supposed Karim head to toe.

"Karim?" Mr. Ambrose questioned in a suspicious tone.

The pseudo-Karim frowned, almost looking downright offended.
"Sir you wound me! I am Kasim."

Kasim's gaze traveled between the two of us. He cleared his throat politely.
"Forgive me for asking sir, but I can't help but wonder what you are wearing."

Instead of giving an answer, Mr. Ambrose chose to ignore him, asking, "Where are we supposed to be right now?"

Kasim paled. "Erm, well. We are supposed to be at a very important meeting in forty minutes."

Kasim directed his gaze towards me glaring fiercely. "Your secretary here was supposed to be keeping track of time."

I rose two eyebrows.
It seems like Karim's disdain for you has never changed- even in the freaking future!

"Well," I said in defense, "instead of wasting time here, how about we go to this meeting?"

"That can wait," Mr. Ambrose interrupted. "I believe," he gestured to our clothing. "We do not have the proper attire."
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