Shadow Storm (Quantum Touch Book 3)

by Michael R. Stern

  “Mr. R, are you going to pretend to take us somewhere?” asked Todd.

  “No, Todd. That’s not why he’s here. Class, we’re almost done today. You’re doing a great job with the tournament, but let’s not lose track of school work. We’re on vacation countdown, so keep reading.” The bell rang. “See you tomorrow.”

  Once his students had left, Fritz said, “Where’s the generator?”

  “In the car.”

  “When the kids are gone, I’ll help you.” When they left the room, Ashley was heading their way through the bustle in the hall.

  “Where are you going? Hi, Tony.”

  “Generator,” said Fritz. “When this dies down.” He gestured to the banging of closing lockers and the crowd of students heading for the exit.

  “Then where?”

  “Lee. To invite him for dinner.”

  “Can I come? Now and to dinner? And did you tell George?” Ashley asked.

  “No.”

  “Maybe you should. He could screw things up.”

  George wasn’t to be denied, even if he didn’t know what was going on. He walked in and saw Tony.

  “Hi, George. I was just coming to get you,” said Fritz, less than truthful.

  “What are you doing?” asked George, his irritation taking shape.

  “I’m going to see General Lee and invite him to come for dinner. Do you want to meet him?”

  “You mean, go through.” He pointed at Fritz’s door. “I . . . uh . . . well . . . ”

  “You can if you want, George.” Ashley and Tony stood back, holding in laughter.

  “Well, okay, but . . . will we be gone long? I have important things to do.”

  “Depends on what he has to say. I don’t know.”

  “Well, okay, then.”

  “Is the hall clear?”

  Ashley went to look. “No one here.”

  “Tony, grab a chair. Let’s go.” Fritz placed the book on his otherwise naked desk.

  “Mr. Russell, you’ve come again. And brought company, I see. Hello, Mr. Gilbert. And . . .” He stood and stepped toward George, extending his hand.

  “General, I would like to introduce you to George McAllister. He’s the principal of my school. You know, my boss, my general.”

  George had backed away from General Lee, reluctant to shake hands.

  “It’s okay, George. General, he’s a bit startled, I think.” The general took George’s hand between his. “Mr. McAllister, my pleasure. Believe me when I say I do understand how you must feel. I had a similar feeling when I first met Mr. Russell. So tell me, gentlemen, to what do I owe this visit?”

  “General, I’ve come to invite you to dinner.”

  “In your time? Truly?” Lee’s face broke into a broad smile, his eyes laser bright. “Can I see your automobiles?”

  “General, you’ll be riding in one. And I’ve asked the President of the United States to join us.”

  “Mr. Russell, my heart is pounding. This would be quite exciting. Do we go now?”

  “No, General. I wanted to see if you would be agreeable.”

  “Agreeable? Mr. Russell, I embrace the opportunity. I don’t know what it will mean, but just to see what the world will become is wonderful. Wonderful.”

  “Then, General, here’s the plan. We’ll try to be exact with . . .” He pointed toward the portal. “This time, next week. Will that be convenient?”

  Fritz saw the change. Lee giggled, a response that Fritz recognized. Another little boy. George gaped at Lee, still numb and Ashley watched and smiled.

  “It would be exceptionally convenient, Mr. Russell. And the president will be there, you said. What is his name?”

  “Barack Obama.”

  “Ah. An Irishman. My, how things have changed.” Ashley snickered. “Have I said something amusing, Mr. Gilbert?”

  “General, you should know, so it’s not a surprise,” said Fritz. “He is not Irish. He is what, in our time, we call African American.”

  The general considered that for a moment. “Mr. Russell, are you saying that the president is a nigra?”

  “Yes, General. And he’s been elected twice.”

  General Lee laughed with what sounded like pleasure. “Well! It seems Mr. Lincoln was correct. My, if we had known, perhaps we might have avoided the war. I do wish Mr. Lincoln could have lived to see it.”

  “I think he would be as astounded as you, General. We will be along to see you next week. It’s a bit chilly, so you might keep a coat nearby.”

  “It’s a bit chilly here now.”

  “When is now, General?”

  “It is September 17, 1870, Mr. Russell.”

  “General, we need to leave, but we look forward to seeing you soon.”

  “Gentlemen, I do so look forward to our next meeting, perhaps more than anything I have ever looked forward to. Thank you for your invitation. May I bring something?”

  “There’s no need, but thank you, General.”

  “I will see you soon.” They all shook hands, George more comfortably this time, and returned to the present.

  “How did it go,” asked Tony, as they emerged from the portal.

  “He’s coming,” said Fritz. “So, George, what do you think?”

  “Fritz, uh, I don’t know what to say. That’s what you’ve been doing? It’s amazing, incredible. I shook his hand. Like he was real.” He paused. “Lois won’t believe this. I just met Robert E. Lee. Fritz, this is incredible.”

  Fritz lifted the book to clear his desk and opened it to the paper-clipped page. A sentence jumped out. “On September 28, Lee had a stroke and died two weeks later, on October 12, 1870.”

  “We’re just in time,” said Fritz.

  “What do you mean?” asked George, as Ashley and Tony came in.

  “A week from now in his time is September twenty-fourth. He had a stroke four days later and died two weeks after.”

  Ashley said, “But you can keep him alive by changing the paperclip, can’t you?”

  “Ash, I don’t know. We’ve been looking at time as a wave, but a wave doesn’t move at a single speed, I don’t think. The wave alters with interference, like when it hits the shore. It stops and changes direction.”

  “So if time is speeding up, we need to be careful how we move the paperclip,” said Ashley.

  “I think you’re both right,” said Tony. “We need to be gentle with the clip.”

  “How does it work, Fritz?” asked George, who had never shown the slightest interest before.

  “Now I know the portal changes things.”

  “Are you laughing at me?”

  They said yes in unison.

  FRITZ ASKED Linda if they should invite their parents.

  “Fritz, that’s getting to be a lot of people. But they would love to meet Lee and see TJ.”

  “So we should ask?”

  “Yeah, I guess so. Fritz, this is so unreal. Robert E. Lee’s coming here. And he’s meeting the president. I wonder how that will go.”

  “I think the conversation may be the most fascinating discussion we’ll ever hear. I just hope we can get Lee on the right day. We’re cutting it very close.”

  JANE AND ASHLEY helped Linda get ready to welcome the expanded guest list. The president and First Lady would fly in with James and Mel. They invited Jim Shaw and Al Kennedy. When school ended on Wednesday, Tony waited for the halls to clear, a tablet in his hand, eager to see how close in time they would come. Fritz had marked their last entry, outlining the paperclip in pencil. Fritz and Tony placed the paperclip. Tony measured the slight move outside the pencil marks. Fritz went through alone.

  “Mr. Russell, I think you need a small adjustment. Our dinner isn’t for three days yet.”

  “Could you come now, General?”

  “Sorry, young man, but I regret a previous engagement which I cannot cancel. I have a meeting with General Longstreet. I don’t think you should meet him just yet, although if you’d like, I could inform him of
our adventures.”

  “I don’t think that’s wise, General. For now, at least.”

  “I want to ask him to write his story of the war. I think it will be important in the future for people to know what we faced. Why don’t you try coming for me again?”

  “I will, General.”

  Once again, Fritz and Tony adjusted the paperclip and Fritz returned to Lee’s office.

  “Ah, Mr. Russell, you are closer. Our appointment is for tomorrow. But I anticipated you might come sooner. If you wish, I can join you now.”

  Fritz took a deep breath, exhaling sharply. “General, that would be fine. I worried we would miss again.”

  “I must tell you that I am a bit nervous to travel through time. And to meet your president. But I have been anxious before. It is difficult to live a soldier’s life and never be worried. My agitation is balanced, however, by my anticipation of seeing your automobiles. I am curious.”

  “Well then, General. Grab your coat and grab your hat. Leave your worries on your doorstep. Shall we?” The general put his greatcoat over his black suit jacket and wore a brown coachmen’s hat. Taking a deep breath, he followed Fritz through the portal to 2015.

  “Here we are, General. Come this way.” Fritz opened his classroom door. Pointing to Tony, he said, “General Lee, I would like to introduce you to Tony Almeida. Tony is an engineer. He works for the president. He’ll be coming with us.”

  “A pleasure to meet you, young man.”

  Even Tony, in spite of his knowing what to expect, gasped. Not sure if he should smile, he said, “General, the honor is mine. If you’ll give me a moment, I have a couple of chores to complete.” Fritz brought the general into the classroom.

  “This is my classroom, sir.”

  “Quite comfortable, it seems. What are those?” he asked, pointing to the radiator covers.

  “Heat source, sir. You are familiar with radiators and boilers.” Lee nodded. “Hot water travels through pipes from a central boiler system in the basement and heats the entire building.”

  “And these seats are for your students?” The general sighed. “My, but time has flown since I met your classes at Appomattox, Mr. Russell. Five years already.”

  “It’s only been eight months here, General. But to me it seems like yesterday. You met two of my classes that day. I teach seven classes each day. Every morning, fifteen hundred bright-eyed young men and women come through those doors,” said Fritz, his hand sweeping toward the window.

  “A regiment of students. That must be quite a spectacle.”

  Tony was taping the door latch when Ashley came in. Fritz asked, “Tony, why are you taping?”

  “Just a guess, but if the door doesn’t shut completely, I think the portal remains stuck in place, open. We’ll find out later.”

  “Ah, hello again, Mr. Gilbert,” Lee said. “It is nice to see you.”

  “And you, General. Glad you could make it. Are we ready?”

  “I am,” Lee said. “This is quite exciting.”

  “Good,” said Ashley. “Would you like to ride with me?”

  “Ash, I think the general should come with me.” The four men walked into the parking lot.

  “Oh my,” said Lee. “These are automobiles?”

  Fritz said, “They are. Shall we take a ride? Ash, I’m going to go downtown. You follow, okay?” Lee walked around the car, running his hand along the surfaces. He bent down and touched the tires. He stared at the headlights. He tapped the windows. Fritz could tell questions were lining up. When Fritz opened the door, Lee ran his hand over the cloth seat covers, and then climbed in. “Very comfortable seats, Mr. Russell. Much better than a wooden plank.”

  Fritz climbed behind the steering wheel and closed the door. “How is it compared to a saddle?” The general rubbed his fingers across the dashboard.

  “Mr. Russell, I’ll answer you when I see how hard the bumps are.”

  “General, this is called a seat belt.” Fritz pulled the fabric, demonstrating how to attach the buckle. “You should attach it, sir.”

  Lee reached over his right shoulder and pulled. The metallic click brought a satisfied grin. “I believe I’ve done this right, Mr. Russell.” Fritz agreed, started the engine, and began to move. The general inhaled, as if he were waiting for a roller coaster to crest the top.

  “General, this is a speedometer. It tells us how fast we are traveling.”

  “Oh my, this is quite fast. How fast are we moving, Mr. Russell?”

  “Right now, we are going twenty-five miles per hour, about the speed of a horse galloping.”

  “But no bumps. This is quite enjoyable.”

  Fritz pointed to the road surface and told the General about the national highway system. “Our highways were built when another general became president. They were actually conceived as helping national defense as well as being good for commerce.” The general asked about the steering wheel, he looked in the glove compartment. He yanked gently on the seat belt. Fritz turned on the radio. The General asked about the wheels.

  “The tires are made of rubber. They have been improved regularly for years.”

  “Rubber? I used rubber as a school boy to erase pencil and chalk marks. Is it the same?”

  “Not exactly, but it is from the same source. The product started with sap from rubber trees. You may recall a Mr. Charles Goodyear, who invented a process called vulcanization, which made rubber less brittle and able to be used year-round. Tires eventually came from that, but it took almost seventy years.”

  Fritz sped up and told Lee each time they were going five miles an hour faster. He reached forty but had to slow down for a traffic light. In the distance, the steeple of the oldest church in town stood tall near the last open field in Riverboro. A dozen young boys were playing.

  “What are they doing, Mr. Russell? This is an activity I’ve not seen before.”

  “We call it football. Perhaps we can discuss our sports at dinner.” He stopped at the intersection. “Those lights tell drivers to stop so that cars going perpendicularly can proceed. Red means stop. Green is go. The yellow light is a warning that red is on the way. We take turns. The lights are powered by those wires.” Fritz pointed. “Electricity. The lights change automatically. Watch.” The light changed to green and the car began to move.

  “Does the automobile respond to the electricity?”

  “No, sir. When the light changes, the driver steps on this pedal. You may remember that we discussed petroleum when we first met. That’s what provides the power to the car.” He pointed to his foot. “So I guess you could say the driver responds to the electricity.”

  “That is quite intelligent. And orderly. Are there many of these lights?”

  “Yes. They are at many intersections of roads. We’ll see more as we go.” Fritz proceeded into the downtown shopping area, and Lee looked at store after store and at the people walking along the sidewalk.

  “Mr. Russell, what is in these shops? This is like a large city to my eyes.”

  “It is small for this time, General. Would you like to get out and look?”

  “Could we do that? I would like that, indeed.”

  Fritz parked in the municipal lot. The general lifted his head to a noise in the sky. “General, if you remember, I said we had machines that flew. That’s one of them.”

  “Mr. Russell, you come from a most magnificent time, but perhaps you can explain to me how such a machine functions.”

  “General, I can’t, at least not adequately. I guess most of us accept that airplanes fly without understanding the physics and engineering.”

  “That is an interesting observation, Mr. Russell. I will consider the things I take for granted in my time. I think that many things we know are merely accepted as fact, without our asking how they came into being. Shall we look at your shops?”

  As they passed a parked truck, Lee asked what it was. “We call it a truck, General. As with trains, the front, what we call the cab, pulls that l
arge box behind it. Trucks are built on the same principles as automobiles and can go everywhere without needing rails.” The more they walked, the more General Lee commented. Lighted store signs flashing. An electronics store. A game shop. A bakery, a delicatessen, a bank, a supermarket.

  “Supermarket,” said Lee.” Why is it super?”

  “Would you like to go in and make up your own mind?”

  “Most certainly.” Taking the lead, the general led his hosts inside. He stopped short when the door opened automatically. “Oh, my,” he said. They walked through and looked at the aisles and the shelves and the overhead signs indicating what could be found in that area. Fritz guided Lee up one aisle and down the next, past cans and packages, bags and boxes, the meat and produce sections, and through the dairy and bakery departments. Lee tipped his hat to the shoppers he passed, smiling at their stares. Fritz ignored the other customers, but could sympathize with their mystified reactions.

  “Mr. Russell, what happens when all these things are gone?”

  “By tomorrow, these shelves will be refilled. The store stays open until midnight and opens tomorrow morning at seven. Overnight, trucks will bring replacements, and a crew will fill the shelves and counters. We take much for granted in our time. With our transportation system, we are able to move products from where they are grown or manufactured to far-away destinations with great speed. Some of our trucks and boxcars are cooled to keep the food fresh. General, we even transport fish from the ocean to the middle of the country.”

  “Mr. Russell, I understand why you call this super. Most remarkable.” Lee picked up a package and asked, “What is this covering?”

  “It’s called plastic. It’s used in many ways.” Fritz picked up a package. “This is plastic, so is that. The packages of meat and fish we saw are covered in a type of plastic. Its purpose is to protect the contents from spoiling. Plastic is one of the products made from petroleum.”

  “Is that so? Can you use this plastic to power your automobiles?”

  “It’s a different chemical structure. In the future? Who knows?”

  “And what are those?” asked General Lee, pointing to the monitors mounted on the walls.