Part two of the story started in Chapter 13 of The Adventures of Wells and Wolcott aka the backstory of why Kipling has a problem with HG. Because after some thought and a 14 hour nasty work day this happens. Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think.
But I’m holding on for dear life, won’t look down, won’t open my eyes
“Because I’m a woman,” HG grumbled.
“Was I not partnered with a woman for the past 15 years Wells?” Kipling gripped the handles of his chair. “That has never been the issue.”
“Then what has?” Chataranga pressed.
Kipling looked down for a moment to compose himself while the others waited.
“In a word,” he finally said, meeting HG’s eyes. “You.”
He raised a hand as protests arose from those assembled.
“I know you,” Kipling explained, “A stunning intellect wrapped in hubris that hides a dearth of experience. When I read the report of your first retrieval, the Marquis de Sade’s crop, I knew. To go after such a dangerous artifact so soon into your time with the Warehouse.” He sighed, “Foolhardy.”
“We had never met before I joined the Warehouse,” HG scowled. “You do not know me.”
“I know your type,” Kipling didn’t back down. “You remind me so much of a young man I once knew. He was a surgeon and a researcher. Quite gifted in many ways. And for a time he was celebrated amongst his peers for his discoveries. But then his young wife died suddenly. And he couldn’t accept the death of the one thing he loved above everything else. So that young man decided he must find the secret to life itself. Because he would be the one to who could pierce the barrier between life and death.”
“Oh my God,” HG clutched grasped the locket at her neck. “You knew?”
“Victor,” Kipling nodded. “I did. It was the case that brought me to the Warehouse. And the artifact that he created. The creation that had to be destroyed. “
Kipling’s eyes grew hard. “I recognized the same cocksure walk and sense of invincibility from the start. And realized that despite Agent Donnelly’s influence your ways were well ingrained in who you are.”
“Those very same qualities you deride,” HG protested “have made me a top Agent. I fail to see why being confident in one’s abilities is a crime.”
“It’s not,” Kipling admitted. “Until Shanghai happened. Or perhaps Budapest. Or even the incident in Kiev. Incidents that put bystanders in peril and almost resulted in Agent injuries.”
“Everything turned out fine,” HG huffed.
“But they show a pattern of increasing reckless behavior.” Kipling protested. He turned to Chataranga and McGivens. “How can you not see how Paris has affected Agent Wells? How can you still consider her for Caretaker of the new Warehouse?”
“And how do you know about Warehouse 13?” McGivens, red from anger asked.
Kipling turned to HG. “She was my partner for 15 years. I know a great many things.”
“So what was decided,” McShane asked over a pint well after the meeting.
“From what HG told me not much,” Wolcott stared at his glass. “She will still have to appear before The Regents next week and has been relegated to inventory until then.”
“And what of Kipling,” Patel sipped his beer.
“He and Lewis are off in search of a mirror,” McShane explained. “I overheard Chataranga going over the case this afternoon.”
The three men sat silently for a moment, lost in their concern for their friend.
“What are we to do Barnabas,” Chataranga asked his old partner turned Caretaker. “She continues a downward spiral.”
The pair watched from the balcony as HG worked on the skeleton of what was to be her Time Machine.
“We wait. The Regents have an interest in the possibility of time travel becoming a reality. Can you imagine,” he added. “Can you imagine the possibilities? Stopping Paracelsus alone would be worth it.”
“But at what cost?”
McGivens didn’t answer.