Centered right in the middle of our square is a small circular stone covered area surrounded by tall branching elm trees. There used to be a tiny garden but that did not last with all the urchins playing in trees, bushes and undergrowth. Instead we only have the elms left that now surround a ravaged dirt and stone area. About a month ago one very late evening I noticed my mentor, Mr. Hubbard stand just outside the now partially paved, circular center, staring intently at the ground. He must have done this for more than ten minutes because I remember him walking out of the store just after 10 and it was now quarter past. One is always aware of time when master watchmaker Hubbard is around. From my position in the store I could see the bent shape of the watchmaker slowly walk around the trees, examining the roots and stomping his feet on the stones. At various points he nodded to himself and pulled out a notebook to scribble observations. When the good man finally entered the store again he looked at me and said: "Jeremy, I need you to speak with someone in city hall tomorrow. We are going to construct us a large city clock again!" "May I ask what exactly your intentions are? Do we not already have enough clocks in this house? If people needed a street clock they could simply listen or look at Big Ben, which you helped design if I'm not mistaken", I asked.

"Yes, yes we have Big Ben but you can not see that tower from just everywhere and going by the sound alone is not going to help you out at a quarter past. There are some clocks around the city but they are far and few between. No, we need street clocks and I have just the solution for that", he said to me, with the last portion half muttered to himself. The next morning I was sent to Guild Hall with a letter from Hubbard explaining his plans to build city street clocks. The Guildhall is a building in the City of London, off Cheapside and Basinghall Street, near Bank. Even though it is not the immediately obvious location to submit plans to alter the city's roads, it is in fact the first point of contact with the vast bureaucracy that manages London.

When the magistrate opened the letter and read a few sentences he slightly lowered his half glasses and peered at me as if saying: You disturb me for this? Since I was not aware of the details of the letter myself I could not explain or apologize on behalf of my mentor. "And he ultimately wants a thousand of these clocks embedded in the pavement around London?" the magistrate asked, not amused. "I guess so, sir. He helped design Big Ben you know", I added in case that held any weight with the man. "I do not care if he himself has built Buckingham Palace brick by brick, this is preposterous. Does he have any idea how much this would cost? Not to mention the upkeep." What else could I do but to supply the answers that made my employer seem up to the task: "I'm sure he has a plan for the upkeep, patrolling police officers could keep an eye on the time for example." This was not a smart move on my part. "Use police officers to monitor clocks? Are you serious lad? No I will have nothing of it. Please tell your master that he needs to stick to his profession and let us deal with public affairs."

What else could I do but return to the store with the bad news. Hubbard did not take it well and I've never seen him this angry before. He immediately disappeared downstairs into his workshop, where he always goes to brood. About a hour later I heard him open the trap door and enter Bibliotheca Echidna underneath the store, probably to contact some unofficial channels within the city. Whatever exactly he discussed down there I could not guess and I did not wait to find out. The next morning was going to be rather tiresome because I had to move a grandfather clock into the living room of the Claremont family residence. As a consequence I went to bed early and did not hear Hubbard return. At daybreak I found him in the library bent over old books on clock making. "There will be one", he said. They gave me permission to build one clock, to try it out as it were. I'll show them, once they see it they will want them all over the city." Better to leave him there, nothing would stop his determination now anyway. When he got into a mode like this it was better to let the fever run its course. With no immediately noticeable damage, the Claremont clock was delivered, installed and leveled, and with that the most interesting part of the day was completed. There were some errands to run before I went back and on the way I picked up some materials Hubbard needed for his street clock. He has helped design large clocks but has never actually built one himself and the whole endeavor made me wonder if this was one bridge too far.

I found him in his workshop bending some metal strips. Apparently he was already building the support structure for the Going Train and Main Spring. "It will be Fuseé based", he said "we can get away with it since it will be flat on it's back and very stationary. Yes, and I have the right set of chains for that as well, this bicycle maker gave them to me a while ago. The biggest problem now is making the gears and pillars, it's all a lot bigger than I'm used to", he rambled on for a while. "Perhaps you should contact your colleagues who have done this before?" I asked. "Nonsense, this not more difficult than the regular timepieces that come through here", he replied. I let him be, sooner or later he would come to see that this was a bigger job than he could handle by himself. That later came a lot sooner that Helen and myself had anticipated. It was Helen who caused the rupture since she was growing increasingly annoyed by Hubbard's depressed attitude. I found her scoffing and yelling at Hubbard in the kitchen, all the while wrapping bandages around his head. "It is nothing Jeremy, just a mainspring that got away from me", he said, trying to make it appear as if these things happen all day and they do but not with coils of metal a feet in diameter.  "Perhaps it is time I ask Edmund again to help me out." Hubbard sighed, it was not easy for him to give up control over the creation of time. Edmund was Hubbard's link into clockmakers Messrs E.J. Dent & Co, the same ones responsible for Big Ben. He did not have to say this twice, especially since these things happened on such few occasions. I practically sprinted all the way to London's famous clockmakers, where luckily I found Edmund. The man was instructing various artisans in the construction of large and heavy components of what will most likely become another church clock. Because of the size of their designs, their workshop was considerably larger than any other clock workshop in the city. Large enough in fact to house both clock mechanics including any bells that might be driven by the pulleys and chains attached to the inner workings of these complicated devices. Edmund turned around as he saw me gaze at the oversized parts and partially built mechanics. "Always bigger and better isn't it Jeremy?" He smiled and with his remark answering my question what fascinated the men working here, through long hours. "We don't build the fine mechanics your mentor likes to handle I know, but we do have our clock secrets as does he", Edmund continued. I could stand there all day watching the construction and assembly of these monsters of modern engineering. While watching two men out of the corner of my eye install an escapement into its housing I rattled off what Hubbard had told me. "He has funds to build a sidewalk clock you say?" He said. "I'm sure he's trying to use bicycle chains again to build a Fuseé mechanism. He just never learns. Right now we're busy repairing a big clock but after that we will give Hubbard a hand. Tell him I will visit around the end of the week" With that I left to go back home again. Hubbard was not going to like this, he expects things to happen right away.

It was my intention to make my way home as fast as I could. This was not to be, since I was rudely stopped by a rather short man wearing the typical attire of a sleazy London reporter. It is their custom to turn what would otherwise be a normal manner of dress, into something ludicrous and banal. The man had a worn Homburg bowler on his head, but instead of having it fastened as one would, it was slightly titled to one side, cutting a rather disheveled and nonchalant figure. "Morning lad", he said, putting himself squarely in my way. "The name is Harold Crowley, reporter for the Pall Mall Gazette. We were told your employer is planning a stunt with a clock somewhere. Care to elaborate?" It took me by surprise, although I could have expected something like this to happen sooner or later. Hubbard was well connected and as a result well known. "No idea what you're talking about.", I said, wanting to get out of the situation. I've heard Davies say once that you have to be careful with newspaper men. They can change what you say and make you appear a villain even if you've never harmed a soul. "Will be seeing ya!" Crowley yelled after me as I rushed passed him. What was special about the construction of a street clock? I asked myself. Surely Edmund did not have people ask him questions about what his employer was up to for every clock they made.

"You should have told him it was urgent!" Hubbard said when I returned. "Edmund will be here Friday and that is already quite nice of him I think. I'm sure he's dropping other work just to help you out", I told my mentor. That calmed him down a bit. "Alright, I will work on the design in the mean time. Did you tell him it will be Fuseé based?" "Yes I did tell him", I replied. "Excellent, then he will know what to bring." Hubbard instantly lost interest in the conversation and started to make his way upstairs to the attic to check up on the Triops. "Some newspaper man asked me about the project", I said in a raised voice. The watchmaker stopped. "What did you say Jeremy?" he said. "A man called Crowley, started asking questions about what you were building. I did not tell him anything", I said. "Why on earth would anyone be interested in what we do here?" Hubbard said, more to himself than to me. "Perhaps Tressilian is behind this again. We haven't heard from him in a while and perhaps he does not like the competition". Hubbard was now mumbling to himself, "I hope he did not find out through some connection in Echidna. This is most serious indeed." It occurred to me that Hubbard was more concerned about how the reporter found out than be worried about why the man wanted to know about the project. When I asked about this Hubbard shrugged it off. "They are always looking for things out of the ordinary, especially if someone has mentioned who approved it. "Can I ask who approved the construction?" I asked politely. Even though I had been with the old man for some time now, on matters of importance it was always advised to maintain a certain decorum. One never knew what the response would be. Hubbard looked at me. "I don't see why I should not tell you. Not that it really matters anyway. It was James Macnaghten McGarel-Hogg himself, Chair of the Metropolitan Board of Works. He, as well as some other dignitaries, frequents the halls of permanence down below. There was a case once where some of the clocks in the board's offices displayed a curious discrepancy in time. Because of the specific location of these clocks and because of the strange similarity in behavior, they contacted me. Perhaps I will tell you the story some time, it was quite interesting. It could be that this Crowley person is not interested in my clock at all but instead is interested in Hogg. This slums business he is involved in is getting quite out of hand", Hubbard said.

The rest of the day my mentor could be found in a foul mood, something the rest of us responded to with likewise behavior. Even Helen who is normally not influenced by any external show of negative emotion was affected. In fact the rest of the week looked to be quite similar. I did not find Hubbard in the library in the evenings, but I could guess where he was. The news that his closed community downstairs was not as closed as he wished, must concern him greatly. Not that this stopped him in his endeavors. In fact it probably helped. If the man was confronted with what appeared to him insurmountable obstacles, he would retreat into his workshop and delve into the inner workings of one of the complex devices trusted into his care. He would often remark how problems could be approached by liking them to watch and clock mechanics. "Each component needs another to function, but in order to do so they have to line up and match perfectly. Every tick and every turn happens therefore in a specific sequence and in a proper order, so it is with our plans and intentions. We may not like it, we may rebel, but we operate on much the same principles. Criminals I must say are wonderfully cursed with an even stronger sense of rattling clockwork plans. Their activities, often planned quite well, betray themselves when put into action. When one part of the plan is not executed as the mechanism dictates, the whole thing comes apart. Luckily for Scotland Yard it inevitably  always does. Look for the broken gears and twisted time and you find your perpetrator. Criminals would do well to study the science and engineering behind watch making. It would prevent them from making obvious mistakes", he would often lecture me. I'm not sure if I totally agreed with his belief that humans plan like clocks, but his analogy of crime to a mechanism has helped him in the past to understand events better than those legally in charge of solving them. For now dear reader I will have to leave you with an unfinished tale. The events are still unfolding and we will have to see how my master manages to build his experimental street clock, hopefully without interference of unwanted attentions.