Britannia Unleashed

Temporalis-1

TEMPORALIS

NEW BEGINNINGSSir Belvedere Wainthrop shielded his eyes with one large spade of a hand, whilst extracting some bitter-tasting flora from his mouth with the other. Whatever was caught up in his walrus moustache required more careful extraction. Said surgery complete and several squints later, his eyes reluctant to wake from their induced sleep, he found himself adjusted to the blinding light. Compared to the dour London he’d left behind it was akin to stepping into a Persian noon. Belvedere pulled himself gingerly to his booted feet and gaped at what he beheld.

“Good God, I don’t believe it! The damn thing’s only gone and worked. Look at all this: palms, magnolias, horsetails, clubmosses, and as if all that wasn’t proof enough, one taste of this air would be. The past has become my present, the gates to a new era in exploration unleashed. Even the biggest sceptic would have to admit the Ministry have pulled off the greatest miracle since the resurrection.” Belvedere gave his broad chest a mock gorilla beating and inhaled deeply. “Ah, so fresh it reminds me of Scarborough on a good day. No, I stand corrected, I believe it closer to an early morning perambulation on Dartmoor. Hotter, too. Very much so,” he added, mopping at his already sweating brow.

Being a man of purpose, Belvedere did what any good Britannian would do in the same situation, he straightened his cuffs, beat the dust off his trousers and slicked back his short, dark hair. He then made a point of thanking himself for remembering to dream up a full apparel. Being the first Britannian to explore prehistory would not have earned too many plaudits if done so au naturel. Much too French. That wouldn’t have done at all.

A few good gulps of invigorating air and it was time to take in the scenery. A slow, purposeful full circle revealed him three-quarters surrounded by dense jungle, one-quarter not. It was towards the open end of his arboreal surroundings that Belvedere headed straight towards the blazing sun.

The golden orb was a welcome sight for a man who’d grown used to the underground laboratories of London’s secret chambers; Belvedere was never destined to be contained. He threw one large arm over his furrowed brows pausing until the tiny stars ceased waltzing across his vision. When he reopened them, he was no more than a foot from the highest, steepest cliff he’d ever seen. And that was saying something for a man used to adventure.