She started to throw on anything, and then decided she deserved to be taken out to dinner—a good place to break the news of Elizabeth Anne and the roll top desk. Instead, she chose her best maternity outfit. Hair, makeup, nails, perfume, and suddenly the bedside clock radio read 6:43. She cursed at herself for losing track of time. He would pick at her. Until she became pregnant, she was never late for anything. “You’re the most time-driven person I have ever met,” he told her one time. In the last few months she couldn’t seem to keep track of anything if it involved timing and he always made fun of her. Moving as quickly as her swollen body would allow, she grabbed her keys and purse and went straight out the door. The monster started on the second try. “A record!” she cheered out loud, and then backed out and headed for the Navy base.
At 1850, Jerry instructed the team to power up so that they could go straight into full power tests after the meeting. Steven had already brought the time controller on line and started double-checking various time scenarios. Anything beyond seven days was no longer counted in hours but in 24-hour periods. Tonight’s live test with Charlie was again going to be only 24 hours ahead, but the entire system had to be tested at full power. Checking to be sure the test/live switch was in the test position, Steven punched in, “Back - 44 years.” The computer displayed 16,437, the number of days in that time period, and the date, July 17, 1943. He checked the power level displays on all three phases of the retro-loop, and the platen levels, as well as the buildup voltage in the progressive separator. Everything matched the graphs they had developed over the last year.
“Let’s go, Steven,” Jerry half suggested and half ordered as he headed for the conference room. Steven paused briefly to reset everything back to zero, which was the routine when walking away from the controllers. “Steven!” Jerry yelled, this time from down the hall. Steven paused one more time, and then turned away. The computer display still read July 17, 1943; 16,437 days. He didn’t want to delay this meeting.
“Be back soon, Charlie!” he announced and then rushed to catch up with Jerry. Charlie had already been placed in the huge, glass transport cage. He wiggled his nose but otherwise sat still. His overly floppy ears drooped by his side. He hadn’t been fed in eight hours in the hopes that this test would happen tonight.
The Marine guard eyed the sticker on the windshield of the old truck, and then with the efficiency of a New York traffic cop, waved Anne onto the Charleston Navy Base. The lab was set up in an old World War II barracks at the North end of the base, in the area of the Navy Shipyard. She parked in the gravel lot. The five vehicles also parked in the lot told her that everyone was still there and that they were probably working late. That wasn’t unusual, but Steven hadn’t called. He always called. She was irritated that she had rushed out the door and he wasn’t ready to go.
To pass the time she pulled the ultrasound photo from her purse. “Elizabeth Anne!” She smiled and put the photo in her pocket to show Steven. The heat in the truck became unbearable. It was air conditioned inside. She slid out of the truck.
She was wearing sensible shoes, however, the mixture of dirt, gravel and dried up ruts nearly caused her to fall several times. By the time she stepped into the office her ankles hurt more than usual, and there was no place to sit. She wandered around the room, analyzing the pictures of ships and men in the old uniforms, until she was totally bored. A large clock on one wall read 7:13. Looking down the hall, she could see that the door with the cipher lock, the one that was always closed, stood open. She listened for sounds but heard only the hum of equipment. “Hello!” she announced apprehensively. No response. Moving slowly down the hall, she announced her greeting once more. Again, no response. She looked at the ten-button security lock on the open door, poked her head in and once more said, “Hello!” The room was indeed empty. She started to proceed further down the hall in hopes of finding someone. She knew that she should have stayed in the front office, but, Hell, what are they going to do to a pregnant lady? It was then, as she started to pass the door, that she spotted a rabbit in a large, glass box taking a good portion of one end of the room. She went in.
“Oh, how cute!” She placed her purse on a shelf above a panel of gages and switches, and then stepped across the room and into the glass enclosure. The rabbit sniffed her hand and then lay back down. Anne sat cross-legged next to him. “You’re hungry, aren’t you baby?” She stroked his soft fur. “Sorry I don’t have anything for you.” Out of the corner of her eye, something move, followed by a click. She looked and saw nothing. She returned to the rabbit. Several seconds passed and there was another click; another movement. She looked. Her purse was dangling from the panel by its strap. Suddenly lights were coming on throughout the room, and there were motors starting up. She started to struggle to her feet but was forced back down by a deafening high pitch wail. She covered her ears, and again tried to struggle to her feet. Without her hands, it was impossible, and uncovering her ears wasn’t an option. She made it to one knee before being blinded by an intense white light. She collapsed to the floor, trying to cover her ears and eyes at the same time. Just when she thought she would go insane, the sound stopped; the white light persisted. Instinctively she curled into a ball to protect herself and her baby, scared of what she couldn’t see. The rabbit startled her. She pulled it in and hugged it close. She lost track of up or down. Her head spun as though she was coming off a carnival ride. Then she heard Steven’s voice, foggy and far away, the words confusing.
“Steven,” Anne whispered. “Steven!” she screamed, and then there was darkness and silence.
And sleep. Deep, deep sleep... and dreams.
Chapter 2
Friday ~ July 17, 1987
When Steven walked into the conference room, Jerry was barking orders. A box of Cheerios disappeared into a cabinet. Cups, silverware and dishes dropped noisily into the sink. Hands and arms moved quickly to clear and clean the table.
“We need a maid.” An old joke.
“We need to stop being slobs.”
Jerry dropped a computer printout and yellow legal pad on the table. “Let’s get started gentlemen.”
Everyone sat down, some grabbing a soda out of the refrigerator, others a cup of coffee.
“First, is there anyone who at all feels, even remotely, that we don’t have a go yet?”
There was silence from the other six at the table.
“Have there been any variations during any of the testing today that I don’t already know about?”
Thomas Bradshaw, who procured the voltage stabilization equipment, spoke up. “The fluctuations coming into the building have been unusually high.”
“Voltage or frequency?”
“Both. However, the stabilizer has performed splendidly, always staying within the one half of one percent tolerance.”
“Do you foresee any problems?”
“None at all.”
“Good. Let’s proceed with the check-off and then the walk-through.”
Steven was anxious, but probably no more or less than anyone else in the room. He understood the importance of this procedure and totally turned his mind to it.
“What about weather?”
“Just got off the phone with the airport. The usual twenty percent. Nothing on radar within a hundred-miles.”
“I’m sorry, what was that last part?”
“Nothing on radar within a hundred-miles.”
“Good. Would someone kick off the AC?”
The air conditioner went silent. “That’s better.” Only the whine of the refrigerator could be heard, as well as the hum of equipment from down the hall. Something about that irritated Jerry but he didn’t know what. He closed the conference room door. “Let’s begin.”
They went item by item, each requiring a brief discussion before moving on to the next. They were only a few minutes into the first page when the quiet whine of equipment from down the hall suddenly changed in pitch and volume. “What the...?” Chairs scraped, on
e hit the floor, others hit each other. Jerry and Steven collided at the door, then bolted, one behind the other, down the hall toward the intense white light streaming out of the lab. Steven reached for his goggles, normally hanging around his neck, then remembered laying them on his chair at the control panel. He rushed to them, knowing better than to look toward the glass cage until he had them on. He dropped them over his face just as something hit him in the leg.
He looked down... a bag?
Purse?
He turned his head toward the glass cage and screamed, “Anne!” The whine stopped. He looked at the control panel and knew he couldn’t stop it from there. But, he could kill the power. Thomas was at the power panel.
“Shut it down!” He yelled. Thomas looked at Jerry. Jerry shook his head.
“Shut it down!” Steven screamed again and ran for the power panel. Jerry stepped in the way.
“No, it’s already gone too far. It could kill her.”
“You don’t know that!” Steven raged at him.
“You don’t know that it wouldn’t.”
He turned back and shouted, “Anne!” He wanted to run in and pull her out but dared not. “Anne, it’ll be Okay! It’ll be okay! I’m sorry!”
“Steven!” He heard was ragged; then the white light flared and went out.
All goggles came off, except Steven’s. He stared in shock at the spot where only seconds before his wife lay curled in a ball. Jerry reacted quickly; business-like. “Check everything. Give me full reports. Make sure there were no glitches. We should have her back in twenty-four hours.”
Twenty-four hours, Steven thought. That’s right, twenty-four hours. If everything works she should be back tomorrow night.
“I want to know how this happened.” Jerry looked at Steven. “How did she get in here?”
Steven slid the goggles to his forehead. “I don’t know. I called her and told her not to pick me up tonight.”
“No! How did she get in HERE? This lab is supposed to be locked at all times.”
Steven picked up Anne’s purse, still dangling from the test/live switch on the control panel. Jerry scowled.
“I think I left it unlocked,” Steven said.
“You THINK you left it UNLOCKED! DAMN, Steven!” Abruptly, Jerry turned away, asking someone about cage temperatures.
Again Steven stared at the cage. “Twenty-four hours,” he said to himself. He tucked the purse under his arm and then located a pen and the clipboard already loaded with control sheets.
Under time he wrote, “forward 24 hours,” and then looked at the panel. “Oh, God,” he said quietly. He closed his eyes and then opened them, turned and looked at the cage. “Oh, God!” He looked around. Everyone was busy at their stations. He turned back to the panel, scanned the settings, cycled the switch to test and back to live then rested his hand on the button that would execute the event. He considered the alternative, living without her and facing her family, her father. He pressed the button and dashed into the glass cage, instinctively putting on his hearing and eye protection when the whine started up. He waited for the light, nearly totally blinded by the dark goggles. Instead of the light, the whine stopped and hands grabbed him.
“No!” he yelled. “Let me go. It’s all my fault. let me go.”
“What the hell are you trying to do, Steven? We’ll have her back in twenty-four hours.”
“No! No! She’s gone forever. Just let me go be with her.”
“Jerry!”
Jerry turned to Thomas who at Steven’s station. “What?”
“He’s right,” Thomas said. “She’s gone. Forty-four years gone.”
“What?” Jerry went to the station and looked at the settings. “Holy shit.”
Steven was only remotely aware of being manhandled down the hall and into the conference room. “Forty-four years!” Someone said. “We’ll never get her back.” From someone else, and from some distance away, “This is going to kill the project.”
When he became conscious of his surroundings, Steven was lying on the conference room sofa. Jerry was sitting in a chair staring at him.
“1943, Jerry!” He stood, kicked a chair onto its back and fell back onto the sofa. “What in the hell have I done?”
“I don’t know, Steven. We don’t have enough information yet to know what you’ve done. I want you to go home. I want everybody to go home and get a good night’s sleep. Be back in here at 0700 and we’ll start brainstorming.”
“I can’t, Jerry. I’ve got to solve this problem. I have to go back and get her, for God’s sake, she’s pregnant.”
“Go home, Steven, you’re in no shape to be thinking anything but irrationally.” Jerry handed him a soda.
Steven looked at it for a good minute. “Yeah, you’re right.” He handed the soda back and, spotting Anne’s purse on the table, picked it up. “0700, right?”
“Right.”
“You need to go home too, Jerry.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll leave in a little while. I’m going to study the data a bit and then rough up a plan-of-action for tomorrow.”
Steven walked to the conference room door. “Sure. Plan-of-action.” He left Jerry sitting on a chair, the cold soda in his hand.
Steven paused at the lab, and then continued on by.
“Steven.” Jerry called from behind him. He turned in response.
“In your field, you’re a genius; the best. You’re the only one who can solve this. I need you tomorrow fresh and ready to charge forward. The six of us would never have gotten this far without you. This whole project would be nonexistent without you. Don’t fail us now, Steven.” He paused briefly. “Don’t do something rash and fail Anne.”
“I understand, Jerry.”
Thomas stepped out of the lab in time to watch Steven leave. How is he?”
“He still wants to go after her.”
“You know he can’t. One of us should go, if anyone. He’s the only one with the brain to figure out how to bring her back. He needs to stay here and lead us through it. Besides, without him, this project is dead.”
“This project will be dead if the company gets word of any of this. This whole group needs to stay together and stay silent.” Jerry watched out the window as Steven got into his truck. “Thomas, what would you do? Your wife, pregnant with your first child, disappears into another time and it’s your fault. Your choices are, stay and possibly never see her again, leaving her stranded alone forty-four years in the past, or follow her.”
Thomas didn’t say anything.
“What do you think is going through his head right now?”
The realization lit up Thomas’ face. “One of us should stay here tonight.”
“My thoughts exactly. Why don’t all of you get out of here. I’ll stay. I want to study the data anyway.”
Steven’s drove slowly off the base. Traffic was light going up North Rhett Boulevard through North Charleston, through Hanahan, toward the quiet little bedroom community of Goose Creek. It was still daylight, but the sun was lying low across the marsh, casting a yellow and orange glow over the distant trees. The beauty escaped him, however, determined as he was on carrying out his plan. He would go after her, and he would do it tonight.
He parked and rushed into the town house. Upstairs, he found the athletic bag Anne gave him several Christmases ago. He could only presume they would never be able to return and there were things they were used to that 1943 would not have, things they could not do without. He started with her dresser. Bras, underwear, nylons; he grabbed everything he could find. Her cosmetics, her favorite perfume. Jewelry. He opened her jewelry box, sorted through it. Unable to decide what to take, he threw the entire box in. He remembered her broken string of pearls in a cup downstairs and ran to it, then back upstairs to her bedside table for her treasured family bible then back downstairs for her glasses and her Casio Sports Watch, and upstairs for nothing and down and from room to room, up and down, round and round until he finally collapsed i
n a chair, breathing hard and heavy.
He closed his eyes and waited for the confused disarray of thoughts to cease spinning in his mind. When he opened them, Anne staring at him.
“Well, now what, Sweetheart?”
“I’ll fix it.”
“How? This isn’t a TV you can just touch with a solder iron. How are you going to fix it, Stevie?”
He glared at her then closed his eyes again.
“Come on Steven, don’t ignore me. What are you going to do? It looks like you’re planning to join me. What if I don’t want to stay here? What if I want my house back? What if I want our baby to grow up in the nineties, not the forties? What if I want my family back? What about my college? What if I want to continue going to College? What if I want my life back? What are you going to do, Stevie?”
“I don’t know!” He jumped up and grabbed her photo off the table. “I don’t know how to fix it! I can’t bring you back. And I can’t leave you there all alone. Maybe together we can make a new life.”
He walked into the kitchen then back, her framed photo still in his hand. “What on God’s green Earth were you doing there anyway? Didn’t you get the message? And why in the hell did you go sneaking into the lab? You know that area is restricted, that my work is top secret. What the hell were you thinking?”
“Maybe I was thinking that I would like to know what all the secret was about. My God, Steven, I’m not a spy. I’m your wife and you’ve never even hinted at what you’re doing every day. I’ll bet some of the other wives know what’s going on.”
“That’s no excuse.” His anger was bubbling over. “You’ve ruined everything we’ve been working for. There’s no way the project can continue now. It’s over.” He fell to his knees on the carpet, laid the photo down in front of him and began crying. “And I’ve lost you.”
Despondently he shuffled upstairs and dropped her photo into the bag. He chose some basic necessities for himself then sat on the bed and wondered what he was missing.
Time-Travel Duo Page 2
