Warehouse 13

Previously on Warehouse 13...

Artie says that H.G. Wells is actually...

A woman.

I was apprenticed at Warehouse 12.

Then who is H.G. Wells?

My brother Charles was the writer.

I supplied the ideas.

My machine allows your mind

to inhabit the body of someone in the past.

- We're in 1961. - Uh-huh.

- Check it out, we're... - Jack and Rebecca.

Oh, I do beg your pardon.

Best mind where you're walking, gov'ner.

Morning light can play tricks on you.

Yes, yes, yes. Mustn't be late.

Oh.

Weren't we supposed to meet at the Observatory?

Your note said you found the perfect source of--

I say, what the devil is...

Police!

There you are, Mr. Blue-Winged Warbler.

Doug Varley, you've done it again.

Get to check you off my life list.

Oh. Mmm.

Would you like some whipped cream for your pie?

Oh, naughty, naughty.

Mmm.

What? The power's out,

and the banana cream pie goes bad.

I didn't eat the crust, just the healthy part.

You got to ride in the Cherry Picker!

Well, I was investigating.

So did you find out anything here,

you know, other than what warm lemon meringue tastes like?

Oh, actually, Pammy said that

just before the power went out,

she heard kind of like a horn sound.

But I still don't see how it matters.

It was just lightning.

Is this gonna hold up us getting our power back on?

Uh, no, no.

They should have it back up and running soon.

Okay, it wasn't just lightning.

The body was completely disintegrated.

Right, and took half the billboard with it.

What was weird is that the edge of the billboard was worn,

almost like it was in a sandstorm.

Okay, so something sand-related.

Um...Sands of Iwo Jima.

Annette Funicello's beach ball.

I have an idea, but you're not gonna like it.

Frankie Avalon?

Why don't you trust me?

It's the kind of thing we should have

agreed upon first.

Each of us should have veto power.

Artie will agree with me, right, Artie?

One, I have veto power over both of you.

And two,

the Regents have already decided to allow it,

so let it go. They said that we can do it?

It is done.

You're right, Myka...

I do know what this is.

== sync, corrected by elderman ==

I must have started drinking again

because the woman who tried to activate a supervolcano

with a giant fork is standing here,

and you're all acting like it's a potluck.

No. No, no, no, no. Pete, H.G.'s not really here.

She's a hologram.

That thing on Artie's desk is projecting her.

Couldn't hurt a fly.

Pretty snazzy, if you ask me.

I mean, if she wasn't a volcano-causing super villain,

like you said.

Look, when H.G. first showed up,

I read her files from Warehouse 12.

I remember a case with the same details.

You have my word, Pete.

My only intention is to help.

Oh, 'cause your word means so much around here.

I'm quite glad to see you here, Myka.

I'd like to think I had something to do with that.

Yeah, no ego there.

You know, it's a shame Jinksy isn't here

to see the freak show.

Oh, is there a new recruit?

He's on personal leave in--

hands off!

Oh, I don't know if you've heard.

I can't actually touch anything

in my current holographic state.

How is your shoulder feeling, by the way?

Like you shot it.

- Technically, you did that. - Yeah. Moving on.

Like it or not, we're gonna have to use her help.

The billboard worker is not the first death.

Yeah, day before yesterday, a painter disappeared

from the top of the Fort Pitt Bridge.

The police thought he fell into the river--

They're not gonna find his body.

The witnesses heard exactly the same noise

as that waitress.

Did you check the traffic cams?

The bridge was out, and we've tried to find links

between the victims, locations, witnesses--we got nothing.

People are dying, Pete. We need to know what she knows.

All right, so here are the rules.

You get to enjoy this change of scenery

exactly as long as you are helping us.

The second that that is over, you go back to your...

- Limbo prison? - Mm-hmm.

Understood.

Tell us what you know.

Righty-o, then.

It was 1893.

Christina had been gone for nearly two years by now.

Once again, my brother was basking in my glory.

Oh, you're wonderful, Mr. Wells.

Oh, you're too kind.

My stories are but the simple musings

of a humble man cursed with too much imagination...

And terribly good looks.

Helen.

Your brother, he's as charming as he is brilliant.

I couldn't agree more.

Where does he get his ideas?

Actually, from me, of course.

Helena!

People never believe what you're capable of.

Do they, Helena?

Well, I know you were surprised.

H.G.!

Mr. Wolcott.

Um, Miss Wells,

Mr. Crowley,

I came straight away.

A curiosity has surfaced.

Wait.

A curiosity?

A ping, darling.

Oh, I like that.

Continuing.

It regards the stolen artifact.

Then we must go at once.

Two agents have already died on this one.

I should accompany you instead of Wolcott.

I have more experience in the field.

Nonsense. Wooly and I will be fine.

Besides, if we spend too much time together, Vincent,

people will talk.

I'm dreadfully sorry, everybody,

but it appears I shall have to leave you

in the hands of my captivating co-host.

Well, I shall be more than delighted

to entertain the ladies.

Mr. Wells, do tell us about your next story.

Yes, Charles, do tell.

Oh, well, I'm afraid you'll just have to wait.

No, really, I insist.

Ladies, you must make him tell you.

They're the work of a genius.

- Yeah. - Come, Wooly.

You can fill me in while I change.

Change clothes?

This way. No dawdling.

Details, please.

What and when?

Um, strange dust,

same as we found when the agents were murdered.

Bobby discovered it this morning.

He heard the tone as well.

Location?

Duncan, off Piccadilly.

That's rather public.

Our adversary has become quite bold.

Something wrong?

No. No matter.

I asked the Bobby to, um--

what's that term you use?

Preserve the scene,

knowing how much you like to examine every detail.

Come, Mr. Wolcott.

In the words of my good friend Mr. Doyle,

the game's afoot.

Thank you, constable.

It's ours all right. Have a look.

I'll take your word for it.

Um, are you sure you should be touching that?

How else do you imagine I can determine its origins?

What do you make of it?

A passerby saw something he oughtn't?

Or perhaps the thief just wanted

to test the power of the horn.

No.

But I'm beginning to see a modus operandi.

The agents from whom the artifact was stolen

were ambushed.

He knew where they'd be and when.