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Time-Travel Duo

Page 39

by James Paddock


  “Well, Mrs. Waring, your silence tells me what I need to know. It appears our meeting is over.”

  But she aced her orals. Despite the fear, she pulled it together in front of those men.

  “I’m not sure what your real agenda is but you’re not going to buffalo me to achieve it.”

  Not only did she ace the orals, she blew their socks off. She looked at the clock and it quieted a little.

  “I fulfilled my promise to Mr. Lamric. I granted you an audience.”

  The men up at MIT nearly did the same thing the admiral was trying to do now when she started to freeze up. Just dismiss her, like an irritating fly at a dinner table, like an irritating woman suddenly showing up in a man’s world. But she gained control in front of those men. She closed her eyes and brought forward visions of her grandmother’s farm in North Dakota. The animals always intrigued her. From a distance at a young age they looked romantic and fun, sleek and powerful. Then one day she grew up and she saw they were just beasts, dirty, slow and dumb. They were just animals, nothing special.

  The panel of distinguished scholars sitting on her oral board were in the end just men. Not dirty, slow and dumb, but only men just the same. It was in the middle of stumbling through answering the first question that she realized that. She settled down and cruised though the remainder of the board. In the end she made them uncomfortable because a woman could match and sometimes exceed their knowledge and expectations. She stood with them at their level.

  The admiral was coming around his desk, presumably to escort her to his door, maybe out of the building, or completely off the base.

  He is just a man, a powerful man, but a two-legged human being just the same. She drew up some saliva. “My agenda is nothing more than what you were told. There are a lot of details you haven’t been made aware of but the essence is still the same. I have knowledge that could help this country and I think it’s not only my duty, but also my obligation to use this knowledge to America’s advantage. I believe it’s why I was sent here. Article Three of the Constitution, Section Three, states, and I quote, ‘Treason against the United States, shall consist only in levying war against them, or in adhering to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort.’ If I don’t at least try to pass what I know into the right hands, wouldn’t I be treasonous? Wouldn’t withholding valuable information be translated as giving aid to our enemies?”

  He continued toward her. She braced and then he was past her, heading for the door, she presumed, to open it and ask her to leave, or call security and have her escorted away. James’ eyes followed him. She saw concern in his face. She waited but didn’t hear the door open, didn’t hear anything but the continuing ticking of the clock, not pounding like before but still too loud, much too loud. She turned to see where he went. He was standing in front of a replica of the Constitution. She hadn’t seen it when she came in as it was to her back. James looked at her, questioning. She shrugged her shoulders.

  “Tell me about Article Six, Mrs. Waring.”

  “Which paragraph?”

  He turned, looked at her and said, “Paragraph three,” and turned back to the print.

  “Paragraph three of Article Six, ‘The Senators and Representatives before mentioned, and the members of the several state legislatures, and all executive and judicial officers, both of the United States and of the several states, shall be bound by oath or affirmation, to support this Constitution; but no religious test shall ever be required as a qualification to any office or public trust under the United States.’”

  “Recite for me the last amendment.”

  Anne thought for only a few seconds, not really sure how to approach the Admiral’s request. “First I’ll give you the last amendment as of now, in nineteen forty-three. It’s Amendment Twenty-one of nineteen thirty-three having to do with the repealing of prohibition, which, by the way, was put in place with Amendment Eighteen in 1919. Amendment Twenty-one reads as follows: ‘Section one: the eighteenth article of amendment to the Constitution of the United States is hereby repealed. Section two, the transportation or importation into any State, Territory, or possession of the United States for delivery or use therein of intoxicating liquors, in violation of the laws thereof, is hereby prohibited. Section three, this article shall be inoperative unless it shall have been ratified as an amendment to the Constitution by conventions in the several States, as provided in the Constitution, within seven years from the date of the submission hereof to the States by the Congress.’ The last amendment as of my time, nineteen eighty-seven, was the twenty-sixth amendment of nineteen seventy-one. It reduced the voting age and reads as follows: ‘The right of citizens of the United States, who are eighteen years of age or older, to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any State on account of age.’”

  “And just one more, Mrs. Waring. Recite for me Article Four, Section Three of the Constitution.”

  “New States may be admitted by the Congress into this Union; but no new State shall be formed or erected within the Jurisdiction of any other State; nor any State be formed by the Junction of two or more States, or Parts of States, without the Consent of the Legislatures of the States concerned as well as of the Congress. The Congress shall have Power to...”

  “Very well, Mrs. Waring.” He turned to face her. “Tell me. In the next forty-four years, will we add any more states to the union?”

  “Two,” Anne stated flatly.

  The admiral raised his eyebrows. “Let me guess: Hawaii and Puerto Rico.”

  “Hawaii was second. Puerto Rico is still a possession.”

  “Hawaii was second. Hmm.” He slowly returned to his desk, settling back into his chair. “I cannot imagine who the other would be.”

  “Alaska, Sir.”

  He leaned back, laced his fingers together over his belly and looked up at the ceiling. “Alaska, of course. Don’t know why that didn’t occur to me.” He continued to look in deep thought for a full minute then came back to Anne. “So, you’ve proven to me you have an excellent memory, and are very creative when placed in a corner. I do not know any way, however, that you could prove to me beyond a shadow of a doubt that you are a time traveler, outside of disappearing right before my eyes and reappearing with George Washington himself.”

  Anne’s back stiffened. “Well, Sir, I would imagine our business is done then. I had no control over my arrival here in nineteen forty-three and so I have no control over being able to return to my time or to any other time for that matter. It has been very depressing to say the least. I may as well have been placed on the moon, which by the way does happen.”

  “Excuse me, Mrs. Waring. Did you say you go to the moon?”

  “No, no, Admiral. I was just putting two thoughts together. The United States puts a man on the moon, actually several over a period of years.”

  He held up his hands. “Hold on just a minute. Are you trying to tell me we’ll fly people to the moon?” He leaned forward on his desk. “This is too much I think. First, I’m asked to believe that time travel is possible, and now I have to swallow that we are going to fly to the moon and in the next forty years or so.”

  “In twenty-five years, actually.”

  The admiral stood. “Well, James, what you’ve found is a great science fiction writer. Hold on to her because she may be rich some day selling books.” He looked at Anne. “I’ll watch for your books and you have my guarantee I’ll buy them. I do enjoy a little of the out-of-this-world science fiction now and then. Other than that I think our meeting is over.”

  Anne stood. She didn’t know what else to do. She still wasn’t sure if she should be doing anything, but something kept telling her she was here for a reason and that the shipyard was the key. She was certain. But now what? “I’m very sorry for taking up your time, Admiral.”

  “Actually, Mrs. Waring, it was entertaining.” He reached to open the door and there was a knock. The admiral’s secretary opened the door far enough that she could step part
way in. “I’m sorry to disturb you, Admiral, but there’s a call from the Philadelphia Naval Yard concerning your trip tomorrow.”

  “Thanks, Marge. I’ll take it right now. Mr. Lamric and Mrs. Waring were just leaving.” He returned to his desk and picked up the phone. “Admiral Harris here... Yes, Captain. What can I do for you?”

  Chapter 48

  Tuesday ~ October 26, 1943

  James grabbed the door and held it for Anne, expecting that they would be leaving. She wasn’t moving. She was standing next to her chair with an odd look on her face. He reached out and touched her arm. She pushed him away with one hand, placing the other on her forehead as if trying to remember something.

  “Yes.” Admiral Harris continued with his phone conversation. “I’m scheduled to arrive at seventeen hundred... No. She won’t be with me this time. Other obligations I’m afraid.”

  Anne signaled James over to her. She whispered under the admiral’s voice. “I’m going to have to hit the Admiral with another big one that he won’t believe, and it’s chancy to say the least. I’m not even sure I believe it myself, but this will either make it or break it. Sit back down.” She sat. James followed reluctantly.

  The admiral hung up his phone and looked at her. “I thought our business was concluded, Mrs. Waring.”

  “I’m going to beg of you a little more indulgence, Admiral. My apologies for listening in on your conversation, but I couldn’t help but hear that you’ll be in Philadelphia tomorrow. I’m going to tell you a story that even in my day, most people consider to be pure fiction but a few claim really did happen. I haven’t believed it myself, until now. My own time travel experience will allow me to believe that anything is possible. This event I’m going to tell you about supposedly took place in the Philadelphia Naval Yard, October twenty-eighth, nineteen forty-three, the day after tomorrow.”

  The admiral leaned back in his chair again. “Okay, Mrs. Waring. I’ll indulge you. I have time for a little more entertainment.”

  “It may seem a little crazy,” Anne added.

  “I have sitting before me a time traveler who speaks of flying to the moon. What could possibly be more crazy than that?”

  Anne smiled and then blushed. “Yes. Of course. I see your point.”

  “But, please, go on anyway.” He signaled with his hand to continue.

  “Thank you, Admiral. This is roughly how the story is told, and I’ll just tell the short of it. Hopefully, you’ll discover the rest yourself. There was some experimenting going on by the Navy on making a ship invisible using Albert Einstein’s Unified Field Theory for Gravitation and Electricity. Basically, it was theorized that a ship could be made invisible to radar thus masking it from torpedoes. The first test of this theory was done on July twenty-second of this year aboard the Destroyer Escort, USS Eldridge. The ship disappeared from all visibility, not just radar, for about fifteen minutes. When it returned, the crew was disoriented and nauseous. The Navy decided it was too much power and revamped the equipment so that the ship would only be made invisible to radar. The second test is the one scheduled for the day after tomorrow in Philadelphia. It’ll take place about five-fifteen in the afternoon, again aboard the Eldridge. This time it will have only a minimum crew of forty-eight men. The story goes that the ship will vanish again, but this time it will be reported to reappear in Norfolk, Virginia. This will last for several minutes, and then the ship will return to Philadelphia. Part of the crew will be missing and some, the story goes, will be fused to the metal in the ship’s structure. This experiment was, or is called Project Rainbow. It’s known in my day, in the journals of science fiction, as the Philadelphia Experiment.”

  Anne waited for a response from the admiral. He only sat, not smiling, staring toward a wall full of photos of shipyard activity, instead of out the window. The ticking of the clock continued steadily, getting louder by the second. Anne wished she could block it out, but the more she tried the louder it got.

  “Another well thought-out piece of science fiction,” the admiral finally said. “I do seriously think our business is over now.” He stood and Anne and James followed. “Thank you very much for coming, Mrs. Waring, James.”

  Without another word, the two of them left the office. James quietly closed the door behind them. Through the outer office, down the flights of stairs and out the door, they held their silence.

  When they stepped outside, James was first to speak. “Do we actually go to the moon?”

  “I didn’t fabricate a thing, James. The event in Philadelphia may be a fabrication, but not of my doing. I hope it isn’t. Because if I sparked his curiosity enough, and I have a gut feeling I sparked more than that, and he gets himself in a position to observe the USS Eldridge day after tomorrow and it really does happen, he’ll be convinced that I’m who I say I am. He’ll even believe that men will walk on the moon.”

  “What do you mean, gut feeling?”

  “Didn’t you notice how he changed? Up to the point of the Philadelphia thing, he was very receptive, open, animated in a way, even when he didn’t believe me. It was like when I said the words, Project Rainbow, the air in the room got very heavy.”

  “I didn’t feel anything.”

  “Maybe it’s all in my mind, but a hunch nevertheless. My hunch is that Project Rainbow is the reason he is going to Philadelphia.”

  “So what do we do now?” James asked. He held the door for her while she got into the car.

  “We wait.”

  After Anne and James left, Admiral Harris stood looking out his window at the masts of ships rising above the buildings in the shipyard. Although, from here, he couldn’t see the people, he knew there were better than twenty-five thousand of them striving to keep the Navy supplied with structures which would carry men and armament into the war, a war from which many would not return. An ugly thing. A very ugly thing. He hoped his son would not be among them. He shrugged off that thought and returned to his desk. He picked up his briefcase, opened it on his desk, took out a half-inch thick folder and then pressed the intercom.

  “Marge. No interruptions for about fifteen minutes, please.”

  “Yes sir,” came the reply.

  He sat back down, moved the briefcase to the floor, and opened the folder to the report inside. The word, SECRET, was stamped in red, top and bottom. In the center of the first page inside the cover were only the words, Project Rainbow.

  Chapter 49

  Tuesday ~ October 26, 1943

  “I think the time has changed.”

  James and Ruth both looked at Anne. They were getting used to her making statements that didn’t make sense and then eventually explaining by telling them of some thing or some concept yet to be invented. Like, “Two minutes in the micro,” she said one day after complaining about her coffee getting cold, or “air bags,” “curling iron,” “cassette tape,” “VCR,” “laser surgery.” A lot of the explanations led into investment discussions – what companies to watch for, what companies to watch out for.

  “Daylight-savings time,” she added. “Remember I told you about the time changes that happen twice a year?”

  They both nodded.

  “Generally, the clocks are moved back an hour the last weekend in October, however, I don’t know that for sure. The last weekend is the thirtieth and thirty-first, putting it awfully late. The switch back to standard time may have been this last weekend. Because I don’t know for sure, I again need to be here at six and at seven. Next week 7:00 for sure.”

  “What time is it now?” James asked.

  “6:12. You guys don’t have to stay for another hour.”

  “You can’t make us leave,” Ruth said. “I’m getting a bit chilled though. Can we walk back up to the house and come back at 7:00?”

  “Of course.”

  They walked in silence for a while, each thinking their own thoughts.

  “It’ll be dark at seven,” James said. “We’ll have to bring the lantern.”

  A bit more
silence.

  “I’ve been thinking,” Ruth said. “I’m sure you’ve already thought about it, Anne.”

  “Thought about what?”

  “The days. What day is it right now in 1987?”

  “It’s Tuesday of course because...” Anne stopped. She stared down the road, unfocused. “Holy shit! It’s Monday.” She stamped her foot. “Jesus! How could I be so stupid? Of course! I walked into the lab on Friday and arrived here on Saturday. We’re not only an hour different but also an entire day different. We’ve been sitting out here waiting on the wrong Goddamn day! It should be Wednesday. God, I’m sorry. I’ve wasted your time.”

  “No you haven’t,” Ruth said.

  “Maybe.”

  “Pardon, Anne?”

  “Maybe it’s on Wednesday. Maybe it’s on Tuesday. Damn! What if Steven thought I might not think of it and adjusted accordingly so that it would be Tuesday for me? He could have thought of both of them – daylight savings and the difference in days – and adjusted for my not thinking of them. I have to figure both ways though, or all four ways.”

  “Four?” James said.

  “Yeah. He either accounted for both, accounted not at all, or accounted for only one or the other. That’s four friging combinations.”

  “Friging?” Ruth asked. “What is that?”

  “Friging.” Anne considered for a moment. “A curse or a swear. You know how some say gosh darn instead of Goddamn. Friging is a gentler form of fu...”

  “Never mind. I don’t want to hear it.”

  Anne grinned. “We are all adults here, and it’s just a word.” She looked at James who was turning red.

 

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