3

I was, I admit, still amazed by the strange girl's recent feat, but her politeness and apparent helplessness drew my sympathies, and in spite of her age, I chose to respond to her dispassionately, as though she were herself an adult.

"You are at 221B Baker Street, Miss Liddell, and my name is Sherlock Holmes." I said, "However, I suspect that you're really asking whether your sister is still alive and still safe, and whether this city; this England is really your home, to which you've returned. The answer, in that case, is that your sister is still in some danger, but is alive, for the moment, and this is indeed the world from which you vanished, though you've come back to it twenty years later than you left it."

For a moment, Alice's expression turned to one of deep sadness and astonishment, but at last, she climbed slowly up onto one of our armchairs without being invited to sit down, and looked up at me mournfully. I swear to you, Watson, that there was a look in her eyes, very much like the look I've so often seen in the eyes of my brother, except without the searching, penetrating gaze of one who takes in all that he sees. I could tell at once that both she and Mycroft had seen many strange things in their lives; things, perhaps, which would have curdled the blood of men like ourselves.

"Your bewilderment is understandable." I remarked as she tried to reach her small arms up to the armrests of my chair, and only halfway succeeded, "If you were an adult, I would offer you brandy, although I have some tea, if you'd like that instead."

"Thank you, sir." Alice replied, though she was still frowning sadly as she spoke, "I've very fond of tea."

It took only a moment to put some water in a kettle and set it on the heat, before I turned back to face my strange visitor again, and noticed that she was playing nervously with her fingers; apparently still not comfortable with me. Indeed, I realized, to a child, my nonchalance might have been seen as coldness and strictness, so after a few moments, I bent down next to the armchair, until my head was level with hers, and I spoke to her a bit more softly.

"Miss Liddell, I am a private consulting detective. Your sister has hired me to protect her from harm, and to get to the bottom of a mystery in which you, apparently, are involved."

"Yes, sir." Alice replied quickly, "That's the very reason I came here. I feel I can trust you, Mister Holmes."

"That's good," I replied quickly, "because I may have need of your trust, and there are many things I'm quite eager to learn; about you and about your father."

"I'll do my best, Mister Holmes." she replied politely, though she still didn't smile.

"Am I correct in assuming that you can travel to other times?" I asked, perhaps too quickly, "Was that the nature of your father's experiment?"

"I can go to other places, and other times as well, I suppose," she replied, "but I don't think that's what father meant to do. He spoke of sending packages to other countries in the blink of an eye, when he talked about it to me, but I think I've gone beyond what he wanted, if you'll excuse me, sir."

"Beyond? In that you can move to other times, as well as places, you mean."

"No, sir." Alice replied with a quick shake of her head; an act which caused her full, long hair to bob a little from one side to the other, "It's not only that. I can go to places which... are not very much like places, sir."

The kettle had begun to whistle, so I quickly removed it from the heat and began retrieving a cup and saucer for my guest, preparing the tea quickly as I replied to her.

"Not like places? I don't understand. In what way?"

"Well, in some of those places, everything is nonsense, Mister Holmes." Alice replied as she gratefully accepted the tea, "Think of flowers who speak and rabbits who live in little houses and grow carrot gardens. Rabbits and mice having tea with hatters in the forest, and cards and chess pieces holding trials over nothing, and greeting food instead of eating it. Little babies changing into pigs after savage mistreatment by spoiled servants who go unpunished. I'm sure it all seems a bundle of nonsense to you, Mister Holmes. It seems the same to me, and I've been to those places. They're not at all place-like, though, once you've left, if you take my meaning. It comes back to me as though it were all a dream, yet I know I was really there."

"I don't know if I believe all of that." I said as I sat down across from her, "Still, the fact remains that you have traveled forward through time at least twenty years. That can't be denied. My question is simply this; why did you not return home, once you realized what had happened? Are you unable to travel backwards through time?"

"No, Mister Holmes." Alice replied, starting to look a bit relieved as she held the small teacup in both hands, "I can go back through time, as well as forward. I came here from the year nineteen-hundred and forty. However, I still have many problems controlling it. When I use it to travel to another time or place, it takes a minute before I'm able to use it again, and going exactly where I wish to is very hard, still. I feel I'm getting better at it, but now, I wonder if it would even be best, to go back to my own time."

"I wonder the same thing." I noted with a smile as I listened to the brave, young girl speak, "Your father learned an important lesson when you disappeared, and I wonder if he would have learned that lesson, had you come back to him. Besides which, if he'd known that his experiment was more or less a success, he might have foolishly tried to sell it, and then, who knows how much damage might have been done by it? It's been hard on you, I'm sure, giving up your family, but it might turn out to be for the best."

Alice just looked glumly into her teacup before taking a sip. That seemed to have relaxed her a bit more, but she still had a puzzled look on her face.

"I do have other friends now... Others who I can rely on to take care of me." Alice said at last, "Mary, Peter, Christopher and the the others. I trust them. I'm still worried about Elizabeth, though. I wanted to be sure that she was safe."

"You may leave that to me." I replied, smiling in what I hoped was a comforting way, "In your place, I would stay here; preferably in my room, where you'll be out of sight of my friends and opponents alike. I may have further questions once this case is resolved, but for the moment, the last thing that we want is for Moriarty or his agents to get their hands on you, or even to learn of your existence, if they don't know already. However, within twenty-four hours, it should be safe to return Dixon home, if all goes as planned."

"Yes, sir." Alice just said in amazement, and in a few minutes, leaving her in my room with her tea and some food, I left to make one last errand.

Once again, I disguised myself for the trip to Miss Liddell's estate; this time as a bent, old woman, and once again, I was met with shock and amazement by the inhabitants of the house when I revealed my true identity. However, I told Elizabeth nothing about her sister at the time, moving from room to room of the building in turn, tapping walls and floors as I went, and asking poor Elizabeth many questions about her father, and what she could remember of his methods of work. I even asked her directly if she knew where Phillip Liddell had kept his notes, though she, of course, did not. I fear that my probing questions may have earned her ire. In the end, however, I found what I'd been seeking.

Three rooms in that house were further from the dining room than any others; on the very outskirts of the house. Of those three, only one was locked, and that, I was convinced, was where the solution to the problem lay. Taking only a moment to ask the permission of the lady of the house, I quickly jostled the old lock, succeeding in opening it, and there, I found myself at last, in the room that the burglars had been searching for; the laboratory of Phillip Liddell.

I am a chemist myself, of course, but Doctor Liddell had, it seemed, dabbled in many branches of science that I had little experience with. I recognized the sample containers of a chemist; the jars and beakers containing a variety of very old compounds. There were even more in a pail on the floor, which was filled with water. That, I deduced, had once been an ice bucket, for storing compounds that needed to be kept chilled. All of that, I was familiar with. Yet, he also had many small cages in that room, which must once have been used to hold animals; perhaps intending to use them as test subjects. There was also a large bed in the center of the room, though it wasn't dressed for anyone to sleep in. Perhaps most interestingly, however, a series of iron rings were arranged on the wall across from the bed, connected by small, copper rods. The rods, in turn, were connected to a series of copper strips of extraordinary thinness, which were fed into the side of a metal box, with a series of knobs and levers arranged over most of its top. There was also a compartment in the bottom of the box, but it was empty, except for some metal coils attached to the sides. None of the levers or knobs seemed to have any effect, but after being left alone for more than a decade, I'd hardly expected them to.

At last, in the midst of the chemicals and contraptions that the doctor had gathered in that room, I found something far simpler; a strongbox with a simple lock. I soon had it open, and there, I found the very things that I'd expected to find; the final notes of Doctor Phillip Liddell, lying in a stack at the bottom of the strongbox.

I leafed through those papers quickly, memorizing each word. They were brief notes, but very much to the point, and when I'd finished reading them, I knew what needed to be done. Phillip Liddell had very much made a mess of both his life and his family, and I felt that it was my duty to limit, as best I could, the damage that all of that might do to Elizabeth.

After stopping briefly in Baker Street to make a few more arrangements, I followed the trail of George Cooper for an hour or two, hoping that it would lead to some incriminating evidence against Moriarty himself. As it happened, I did discover a single forged note, but it made very little difference in the scheme of things. My more important discovery was Cooper himself, who'd decided to have dinner at a small place known as the Fighting Dane. There were over fifteen rooms in the Fighting Dane, five of which were used for dining, and of those five, two were one-table rooms, intended for private dinners and small conferences. I won't bore you, Watson, with the details of how I got in to see him. I was, however, satisfied by his astonished expression when I removed my disguise and revealed myself.

"Holmes!" Cooper exclaimed angrily, scrambling to his feet as I sat directly across from him at the otherwise-empty table, "What is the meaning of this?! You said that you would wire to me!"

"My plan has changed." I replied calmly, looking directly into his eyes as I spoke, "I'd originally intended to make some attempt to have you arrested, in spite of your threats, but as things stand now, I can't see what good it would do. I'm prepared to accept your offer, after a fashion."

Cooper merely stared at me oddly as I spoke to him, and within a few seconds, he'd taken his seat again, though there was still no sign of satisfaction on his face.

"You've found the last notes of Doctor Liddell, and you're offering them to me, in exchange for the safety of his daughter?"

"No." I replied, however, "I want more than that, Mister Cooper. To begin with, I want you to give me your word that neither you, nor any of your people murdered the butler of Elizabeth Liddell. I suspect that you're innocent of that crime, but I'd prefer to hear you confirm it."

Cooper sat silently for a moment or two, looking at me suspiciously, and that look alone told me all that I needed to know.

"Say no more." I continued, "Your accomplices haven't murdered anyone, but when they reported their failure to you, they also told you about something else; a strange sight, perhaps, which surprised them both."

Cooper still made no reply, but I was finding him easier to read as I spoke to him, and I knew that my deduction had been correct. The two burglars who he'd sent to search the house had encountered something that neither of them could explain.

"In that case, I don't feel the need to have them arrested either." I continued, "However, you should know that I've already met with both Hans and Rita, and neither one will be eager for more work from you in the near future."

That time, Cooper really began to scowl, though he still said nothing.

"Now, as to the matter of the notes; I will give them to you on one condition. You must swear, from this day forward, to never again harass or endanger any member of the Liddell family, nor try to search their house, or bribe their staff, or tamper with their holdings, or indeed, to do anything that would disturb them. Phillip is dead, and his family should not be suffering for his sins."

To that, however, Cooper replied almost at once, though he still looked suspicious when he spoke.

"I don't want anyone to suffer. I just want those notes. If that's what you want, Mister Holmes, then I accept your terms."

"Forgive me for pressing the matter," I continued, however, "but I must be certain that you understand the terms to which you're agreeing. Are you swearing to comply with my demands, regardless of what Doctor Liddell's final notes contain?"

However, it seemed that Cooper had indeed meant to agree to those terms.

"Mister Holmes," he said at last, "I've been searching for these notes for quite some time, and devoted more than a little manpower to the search. Even if the notes prove to be utterly worthless, I would still pay a king's ransom to have the search ended."

"Very well," I concluded without hesitation, drawing the notes from the pocket of my coat, where I'd placed them during our discussion, "Here are the notes that you've sacrificed for, though I doubt you'll be pleased by their contents."

Cooper had seized the notes in a flash, and begun rifling through them, but his scowl deepened as he read the very same words that had filled me with such relief.

"Margaret will likely be the first to discover this. If that's true, Margaret, I would have you know that I never intended harm to our family, or to Alice. I was certain that I was right; that my process would do exactly what I'd designed it to; send people to another place in the blink of an eye. It was foolish of me to test it on Alice; and more than foolish. I was selfish and obsessed with the possibility of glory and success, though I didn't realize it until after our daughter was gone. I was the one responsible for Alice's disappearance, and you deserve to know the truth about that."

"Please know that if I've been distant from you in the recent past, it was only because I was desperate to recover our little girl, who's now lost to us, due to my pride and selfishness. Perhaps I was foolish to think she could be found and recovered. After all this time, I don't think I'll ever see her again. Yet, I couldn't bear the thought of giving up the search, not knowing whether our little Alice was alive or dead."

"Perhaps I'm just an old fool, falling into the same mistakes that I did before; obsessing over a single goal, when I should be learning to appreciate my family. I don't know. If so, Margaret, you have my deepest apologies for the way I've acted, and for all the horrible things that I've done. Please tell Elizabeth that I'm sorry."

"In any case, I've dismantled the control mechanism for my machine. Even if I wished to, I'm not certain whether I could build another. No one, anywhere, will learn the secrets of my discovery, if I have anything to say about it. It's done nothing but cause pain to me and to you, and I won't let it destroy the life of anyone else. This is all I can still do for you, my beloved Margaret."

"Forever yours; Doctor Phillip Liddell."

Of course, Cooper was disappointed by the contents of the documents, but he put them into his pocket nonetheless, before turning back to face me with a look of resignation on his face.

"Isn't it a shame, Mister Holmes, how many of these apparently-rational minds, ultimately turn out to be irrational sentimentalists? Even you yourself only brought me what I asked for because of your sentimental concern for Miss Liddell."

"No." I replied, however, "It wasn't sentiment that brought me here, and I, for one, agree with Doctor Liddell's decision to do away with his experiments. As much good as they might have done for the world, the evil that such a discovery is capable of may be greater than either of us could have imagined; perhaps even greater than he himself knew. As an honest man, trusted by his friends, I'm certain you can appreciate that, Mister Cooper."

Then, with that parting shot, I stood up, stepped back into the shadows, re-applied my disguise, and left that place, determined to have a few more things resolved before midnight.

I had returned to Baker Street before nine o'clock, and was pleased to find that my guest had indeed remained in my room, and was half asleep on the floor next to my bed. It took only a moment to wake her, and then, it was time for us to have one final talk.

"Your sister is safe now." I explained, which brought a relieved smile to her face.

"Thank you, Mister Holmes." Alice replied with a polite curtsy. Still, I had a few more questions, which I was determined to ask before that strange, little girl left me again.

"There are a few points about the case that I would like to confirm, if you don't mind." I continued, gesturing for her to take a seat on the bed while we spoke, which she quickly did, "Two burglars broke into your sister's house, and attempted to murder her butler Dixon with a small revolver. In the year nineteen hundred and forty, you learned about this, and went back into the past to investigate, and to make certain that your sister was safe."

"Yes, sir." Alice replied with a swift nod.

"You then appeared in a small room, just off a hallway leading to the back entrance of your house, but just as you entered the hallway, you saw Dixon running towards the burglars, unaware that one of them was armed. He was briefly distracted by you; it was all in the footprints on the carpet, but regained his composure when he realized that you were only a little girl; perhaps mistaking you for one of the neighborhood children, and at the very least, recognizing the much greater threat of the burglars."

Alice nodded again with a look of wonder in her eyes.

"However, at the moment when one of the burglars pulled out his revolver, Dixon realized the horrible danger that he was in, and turned around, in the hopes of getting out of range of the weapon, or perhaps back into the kitchen, and finding some means of escape. You intercepted him, however. Like himself, you'd begun to realize just how grave was the danger posed by these criminals, and your intention was the same as his own; to do what you could to remove him from harm's way. You seized him by the leg, and took him to another place, or perhaps, to another time."

"Yes, Mister Holmes." Alice replied, "I took him three weeks into the future, where Elizabeth was very happy to see him."

"I'm pleased to hear that." I replied, a genuine smile crossing my face, as the idea had never occurred to me, "I'll be certain to inform her that Dixon is alive, and will be returning to her shortly. You then conducted an investigation of your own into the burglars, and the affairs of your sister, and discovered, in the course of that investigation, that I had been hired to resolve the case. So, you came to me, in the hopes of learning what, if anything, needed to be done for the protection and wellbeing of your sister. Have I left anything out?"

"Only one thing, sir. I went back to the morning of the day when the two burglars broke into our house, and I followed Elizabeth into town. I was watching her carriage while she went into her friend's apartment. Mister Holmes; there were three men there, who I knew were horrible fiends. They had a look in their eyes, like the sort I've seen only once, in the face of a vicious queen. Two of them went towards the carriage from the sides, and a third man, who was an older gentleman, waited in the street. The two young men grabbed my sister's coachman, and one of them attacked him, hitting him across the back of the head. I knew that the poor coachman was in danger, so I ran forward without thinking it over, and I... I suppose I pulled him out of their grasp."

"You mean that you seized him and moved him through space, without moving his two attackers."

"Yes, sir. I don't know what they thought of it, but I moved, with the coachman, about a dozen yards away, and half an hour before in time, if you know what I mean. We ended up in an alley behind the apartment, and I waited there with him for the next half hour, until I heard the sounds of the struggle, and the excitement of the brutes, as they realized they'd lost the coachman. I had to leave him, though, because my sister came looking for him, and I was horribly afraid of what she might say if she found me there."

"Thank you." I replied with another smile, "That answers several more of my questions; including how the coachman came to be asleep in an alleyway, instead of minding his horses. However, Miss Liddell, I still think it would be unwise for you to return home yet. Moriarty is still at large, and promise or no promise, if he learns of your existence, you and your loved ones will be in grave danger again."

"I do wish that I could go home," Alice replied with a despondent sigh, "but this place is not my home anyway. My home is back in eighteen-hundred and sixty-four, and I don't feel I should go back there again."

"In that case," I asked, genuinely curious, "Where will you be going?"

"I'll likely return to nineteen-hundred and forty." Alice replied, starting to brighten up just a little, "A woman lives there named Mary, who cares for me, and I have many good friends, as I've said. Peter, and Christopher, and Edmund, and all the rest. It makes me quite sad to leave my old life behind, but I do have a new life waiting for me; a better life."

"A better life?" I asked, more curious than ever, "Is the year 1940 really a better time than this one?"

"In many ways, no." Alice replied sadly, "Many people are very poor there, and there's been a terrible war for many long months. Still, something else has happened; something wonderful. It may even change the world. Someone new has been fighting to protect the rest of us; an amazing hero. I'm sorry, Mister Holmes, but I don't feel I should tell you more than that. It can be horrible for people to know about their future."

"I understand." I replied, folding up my notebook, and taking my eyes off of Alice for just a moment, "Still, I went to a great deal of difficulty to help you and your sister, and under the circumstances, would it not be appropriate for you to offer me a reward of some kind? After all, this power that you have..."

However, no sooner had I said that, than Miss Alice Liddell had disappeared again, and the empty bread bag on the bed, as well as a dozen or so other minor clues were the only signs that she'd ever been there at all.

"Well, that's the tale, as far as it fell within my field, my dear Watson." Holmes concluded, "As I said, I still don't know what happened to Alice. The girl seemed to think that she had friends, who she could trust. Still, not having personally met them, I've often had my doubts. I admit, there have been times when I've even longed to learn more about the future that she predicted; the war and poverty, and the champion who she said would appear. However, looking back on my life, I can see why she chose not to reveal more to me. Consider, Watson, what would have happened, had I known in advance about my eventual victory over Moriarty, or worse; what it would demand of me. I should most likely have failed, or lost heart and grown impatient with the waiting and hiding that followed Moriarty's death, as I struggled to entrap his right-hand man. Think of the arrogance and undue self-confidence that might have filled my head, had my long and generally-successful career been revealed to me in advance; how it might have obstructed my logical faculties. Think of the enthusiasm for unlocking the secrets of a hundred cases, which knowledge of the future would have turned to intolerable monotony. She was wise beyond her years, Watson."

"I suppose so, Holmes. Still, even now, I feel very curious about the future that she was describing."

"It doesn't matter anyway." Holmes replied with a smile, waving the subject off, "She's gone now, we have no way to reach her, and it may be just as well. Besides, you've sworn not to reveal any of this to anyone, Watson. I hold you to your word."

"You need not do any such thing." I replied quickly, leaning forward to reassure him, "I will keep my word to you, whether I'm held to it or not."

"Excellent, Watson. Excellent." Holmes replied to me, leaning back in his chair and closing both of his eyes in a relaxed, but contemplative manner, "I knew I could count on your discretion, old friend."

We discussed little else that day, and I returned home, fully convinced that, until nineteen hundred and forty, that would be the end of the story. However, I was wrong.

Three weeks later, I received a telegram from Sherlock Holmes again, and it read in this way; "An amazing thing has happened, Watson. Discretion on this point. A.L. has returned to me. Astonishing information. Please come at once."

It took only a moment, of course, for me to decipher the meaning of the short note, and rush out to my friend's dwelling in the country, where I found him at home, writing feverishly in a notebook, as he sat on his own front steps. He greeted me surprisingly warmly, looking more cheerful than he had in years, and soon had welcomed me inside, but again, once inside, the blinds were drawn, and only little light entered his room from outside.

"Once again," he said, "I must bind you to secrecy, but as you already know so much of this matter, you should, perhaps, hear the rest. Alice has returned to me again, no older than she was all those years ago. In fact, she might well have stepped right out of my rooms in Baker Street, and into this very house, decades later."

"Well?" I asked, most eager to hear the rest of the tale, "What else? What did she say?"

"She said, Watson, that although knowledge of the future can destroy a man's life, it wouldn't harm me so much now, since mine was nearing its end. Oh, don't look so alarmed, Watson. It's no surprise to you, I'm sure. I've known it for a long time. I'm not a young man, Watson. Neither of us is, and my life has been very full. I may pass on any year now, and I wouldn't be unsatisfied. Suddenly, she was offering me something that mortal man only rarely comes to possess; knowledge of future times. It was terrifying, Watson, but also enticing."

"You accepted." I observed, not certain whether to be angry with my friend, or envious, or perhaps merely glad for his good fortune.

"I did." Holmes replied, "I learned many things, Watson. She showed me that another Great War would begin, worse than the first, and as with all wars, it came with great poverty for weaker and better nations, and temporary wealth for unscrupulous, strong nations. Of course, it also came with death on a horrible scale, but also courage and skill; heroism and glory. That's the way of wars."

"I should prefer to believe that none of that would be in our future," I admitted sadly, "Nevertheless, it has the ring of truth. Human cruelty and arrogance don't fade with a single, global war."

"There is a difference, however." Holmes continued, almost as though I hadn't spoken, "Alice introduced me to her friends, and such friends, Watson... Mary, Peter, Christopher, Edmund, and the others. None were entirely normal. Each was just as odd, in their own way, as she, though her gift, I fear, was the most dangerous. Including Alice, there were seven children there, each with a strange gift, and a stranger history. It was only through my dealings with Alice, that I had the strength to face them. If not for her, I fear that my mind might not have survived the encounter."

"However, when I asked Alice which of them was the hero to whom she'd referred, she told me that none of them were, and asked me if I wanted to meet him."

"As much as I'd seen already, Watson, I was not prepared for it. She took me to the midst of a French village, where the air was filled with the sounds of gunfire, and the buildings were mostly in pieces. I tried to ask her why she would endanger herself by stepping into a war, but she actually smiled at me, in spite of the surrounding noise, and said that we weren't in any danger, because -he- was there. I had no way to understand what she meant, until I looked across the rubble, towards the field of battle, where brave men; who looked like Englishmen and Americans, were doing battle with German soldiers, and a tank; larger than any tank that England currently has in its arsenal. It alone could have driven through the American and English forces, and crushed over half of them, but suddenly, something rushed up to the tank; faster than anything I've ever seen. It was only once it stopped moving, that I was able to see what it was, Watson; a man, dressed in a strange uniform of some kind. He seized the front of the tank with both hands, and began to destroy it unaided, though it clearly taxed even his colossal strength. I could hardly believe what I was seeing."

"The German soldiers lost heart at once; faced with that terrifying Hercules of a man, and began to scatter, as our forces moved in to attack. Soon, the battle was over, and I had never dared to move from my spot behind the rubble, throughout it. However, I could see that the man in the uniform was looking in my direction, as if he could see me clearly, through the very rubble itself. Soon, he started walking towards me, and that was when I knew that there was no point in hiding anymore."

"I stepped from the rubble and went to meet him, looking at him carefully, and finding a hundred clues about his past and his identity in his appearance, dress and posture. He, it seemed, was the hero of the second World War, to which young Alice had been referring, and although I was unsure of how he would receive it, I felt that something needed to be said."

"'This isn't enough, you know.' I said to the man before me, surprised by my own boldness, 'People need more than a strong military; they need the truth. They'll never have any justice or freedom in their lives if they don't know the truth first. The stronger you may be, the more important it is for you to know that. You're answerable if you forget it; to a far higher and mightier court, if not to these men.'"

"He seemed confused for just a moment, but at last, he smiled at me, and said, 'I don't know how you got here, Mister Holmes, but thank you. I needed that. I'll do everything I can to defend truth and justice, even if it means denouncing the whole world. I wish I could say that you can trust me, but I'll do the best I can to be worthy of trust. The rest is up to you."

"Then, without another word, the man in the strange uniform leapt into the air, vanishing among the dark clouds above, and I felt the hand of Alice wrapping itself around mine, drawing me back to my room. I heard her small voice thanking me for my help; I suppose she must have meant the case that I solved for her sister, and saying good-bye. Then she too was gone, and I don't expect I'll ever see her again."

"Alice, it seemed, had always felt grateful to me for helping her sister, and I suppose that deep down, what she most wanted was to give me some reward in exchange for my help. With her power to take herself and others to strange places and strange times; to countless odd worlds, she must have wrestled with how best to reward me. In the end, she must have thought that meeting him would be the best reward of all. I'm afraid, however, that my feelings over the encounter are mixed. I've always had hope for the future, and I have it still, but if men will be as mighty as that in so short a time, there are countless terrible things that might happen. I've solved my share of crimes, Watson, because I knew that any man could be caught and imprisoned. There is a risk that within the lifetime of those growing up now, that will no longer be the case. That fills me with terror, my friend. Still, when I examined that man's face and posture, I saw a nobility of character there. Perhaps there will always be heroes, Watson, whether they're loved or despised; good men willing to rise to the occasion and protect those who need it, and anger those whose will is evil. Perhaps I have less to be afraid of than I thought. If so, then I owe Alice Liddell a debt that I can never repay."

That was the end of the story of my friend's encounter with Miss Alice Liddell, and his strange vision of a future that may or may not come to pass. He refused to give me any more details on the subject, and I admit, I myself am reluctant to put down all that I know about it. It seems so impossible; so hard to believe, and I have only the word of Mister Sherlock Holmes that any of it is true. Still, my friend was always a man with his feet firmly on the ground, and after all that the two of us have been through, I feel that his word is more than enough.

A Note From the Author

I've wanted to do a story like this for a while. I've always thought of Alice as a person who travels to other places, and the moment the thought occurred to me of what might happen if she ever gained partial control of it, I knew I had the makings of a halfway decent crossover with nearly anybody.

I think I may have chosen Sherlock Holmes simply -because- he's such an otherwise-grounded character, and I wanted to challenge myself, and see if I could make a competent story out of these two -very- different genres.

That was really the biggest hurtle. There's no denying that the grounded, mystery genre of Sherlock Holmes and the insanely high-fantasy genre of Alice are simply too different to be combined without at least -something- being lost, and it seems, to me, that there are two ways to do it. Either one genre devours the other, or the two genres each move outside of their comfort zones, meeting about halfway.

Many fanfictions choose option number 1, allowing one series to take center stage in the story, while the other either adapts themselves as best they can to their new genre, or simply looks on in amazement as the events of the story unfold, but I just don't think crossovers fulfill their potential when they're done this way. After all, isn't the point for the characters to interact?

In the end, I chose option number 2. Alice is by no means in Wonderland at any point during this story, and she never takes anyone there. Certainly, allowing Holmes to visit Wonderland was never a serious option. He just wouldn't contribute enough to that kind of story. Holmes needs to be in an environment where his iron grasp of logic actually means something.

However, Holmes -is- moved out of his comfort zone as well in this story. He's forced to confront things that go beyond the normal and natural phenomena of his place and time, and has great difficulty adapting to them. However, that, really, is the fun of placing Holmes in a crossover story like this one. The characters he's being faced with differ drastically from what he's seen in the past, but in the end, Holmes in a great hero, and he's up to the challenge.

In the future, I may do further stories about Holmes, or I may do them about Alice, and her friends in 1940. Or I may not. However, I enjoyed this story, and I hope you did too. Please review if you liked it, and God love you.