Warm Springs

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Warm Springs Page 5

by Smith, Dean Wesley


  Belle nodded, noting the date hand-written on the old photo. “That’s some great Photoshop work,” Belle said.

  “It’s a real, documented picture, Dawn said. “taken on the date shown on the picture by Anderson James, the great western photographer. It has never been doctored.”

  “You showing them the picture that got me into this craziness,” Parks asked.

  Dawn laughed. “I figured it would be as good a one as any.”

  “Now I know how they are feeling,” Director Parks said. “The woman in that picture is Dr. Kelli Rae. First time she recognized me in a picture like that, I was damn angry, let me tell you.”

  Belle was stunned as she looked at the picture of Duster Kendal, Madison Rogers, Parks, and yet another bestselling historical researcher, Dr. Kelli Rae in an impossible picture.

  “I’m not sure what I’m feeling,” Belle said. “Disappointment, mostly, because I was hoping to work here for the summer on my research.”

  “I must admit,” Zane said, “you five sound like a bunch of nut cases.”

  Belle was stunned that all five just laughed.

  “We don’t blame you at all for feeling that way,” Dawn said after a moment. “In fact, we always expect it of a new researcher. But can we ask you one favor? Just come back to the institute with us and let us show you exactly what is happening. And how that picture can exist in history.”

  Belle looked at Zane, who now seemed to be under control.

  After a moment, he took a deep breath and glanced at her and nodded.

  “If Zane goes along, I’ll go,” she said.

  “Thank you,” Dawn said.

  At that, all five of the others turned back toward the cars.

  “I’m sorry,” Zane whispered to Belle.

  “Let’s hear them out and then figure out what to do,” Belle said.

  “I agree,” Zane said, nodding.

  She glanced down at the gravestone, then up at the people walking back toward the cars. Two of the most popular and best historical writers of all time were in the group. Of that, there was no doubt.

  But why would those two writers want her to believe she was their great-great-granddaughter? What point would doing that win?

  Belle pointed to the old gravestone, clearly weathered, then looked at Zane. “Want to explain to me why they pulled that scam?”

  “Not a clue,” he said, shaking his head. “Not one damn clue. You want to turn and head the other direction?”

  “A large part of me says we should,” Belle said, glancing at Zane. “But let’s hear them out. If we don’t, we will always ask ourselves what this was all about.”

  “Good point,” Zane said, nodding. “We stick together.”

  “I like the sound of that,” Belle said, trying to smile at him.

  But honestly, at the moment, she didn’t feel much like smiling.

  CHAPTER TEN

  June 9th, 2020

  Boise, Idaho

  ZANE WAS GLAD that the first Cadillac had already left by the time he and Belle wound back through the old tombstones to the SUV. It was everything he could do to try to keep his cover, but all along it was clear the founding members were not talking to him. Their focus was on Belle completely. So more than likely, his cover was blown with them.

  So the best thing he could do was just go along and help Belle through the shock of what was about to come.

  He just hoped he had reacted as she had expected. If he blew his cover too fast with her, they would all lose her, and he didn’t want to do that. He wanted to get to know her a lot, lot more.

  “Sorry to shock you like this,” Dawn said as she opened the doors and then moved around to the driver’s side. “We have learned over the years this is the best way.”

  “We thought about heading in the other direction,” Belle said as they all three climbed into the big SUV and Dawn got the car started and the air-conditioning going. The afternoon was slowly growing warm and promised to be even warmer before the cool night air took over again.

  “I would not have blamed you in the slightest,” Dawn said. “But after we show you some things and you hear us out, I think you’ll be glad you stayed. But at any point you have the option of leaving. You just have to abide by the nondisclosure agreement is all we ask.”

  Zane was about to say something snide about who would believe he met a bunch of crazy people, but decided not to. No point in pushing his cover too far.

  As Dawn pulled the big SUV off the grass and back onto the path of a road that wound under the trees through the old tombstones, she said, “Better do a Google search on Duster and Bonnie Kendal as well, so you know who they are.”

  Belle nodded and pulled out her tablet again.

  Zane decided it was just better to sit in the back seat and say nothing. He needed to be very careful and not just assume that since they weren’t talking at him they knew when he was from.

  From the front seat, as Dawn took the big SUV out of the cemetery and back into traffic, Belle said, “Oh, my.”

  She looked at Dawn, then back at the tablet.

  “Duster and Bonnie have funded a couple hundred mathematics scholarships in ten different major universities,” Dawn said. “And at MIT and Cal Tech they have buildings named after them. They have more money than they seem to be able to give away. All fourteen of the founding members are now fantastically rich, which is why the institute can do what it does for historical researchers.”

  Well, that answered part of that question for Belle, but only a slight part. Zane was glad Dawn had tried to clear that quickly.

  Zane watched as Belle just shook her head, then quickly passed the tablet back to him.

  From the page Belle had pulled up, it showed that Bonnie and Duster Kendal were acclaimed mathematicians doing work on alternate timelines. Both of them had more high-level degrees in mathematics than he and Belle put together in history.

  Zane already knew that and so much more about them. That was why he had been so excited to actually meet them. He was just damn lucky to have not fainted dead away. That would have been embarrassing.

  “Wow,” Zane said, handing the tablet back to Belle. “So four of the five of you founding members have impressive credentials.”

  “Actually,” Dawn said, “all fourteen total founding members have major credentials in their fields, including Director Parks.”

  “But the institute has been around since 1880,” Belle said. “I researched it as much as I could before wasting my money coming up here.”

  Dawn nodded. “It has been. And that’s the contradiction we hope to explain to you.”

  “And that picture,” Zane said. “How it can be a fake and yet not be a fake to you?”

  Dawn laughed and nodded. “It’s not a fake, but when Parks was in your position,” glancing at Belle, “back right before we started the institute three years ago, he had the same reaction and wanted to know the same thing. And wow was he angry. You do not want to see him angry.”

  “So how come I am just now being told all this after nine months?” Zane asked.

  Dawn pointed at Belle. “The reality of this information is easier to grasp with two people at the same time. Belle has been the first person to join the researchers at the institute since you joined that we feel is ready for the information we want to show you. And besides, we really need your caving skills for a project down the road.”

  Zane sort of felt surprised at that. Why would the institute need his caving skills? That made no sense at all.

  “Why is that?” Belle asked. “What was he doing that made him interesting to you over all the others here doing research, besides his skills at surviving in caves and being a damn fine writer?”

  Zane smiled at that. And her question hit right at a critical factor in all institute decisions on who came on board and who didn’t.

  Dawn laughed. “As you also have, Belle, Zane has a laser intensity on his research and a drive to make every detail in his books as accu
rate as he possibly can. His passion for historical research on his chosen topic equals yours and the rest of the historical researchers who know the reality of the institute.”

  “Doesn’t every historical writer have that kind of intensity?” Zane asked, feeling complimented while giving Dawn the chance to explain more.

  “No,” Dawn said, shaking her head. “We have let almost a dozen researchers into the institute at the entry level you have been at over the last few months, Zane. You have met many of them, and you are the only one. A number have left already, the others will in time, without ever knowing what we are about to show you two.”

  “But you know nothing about me,” Belle said. “I have not been tested.”

  Dawn again smiled. “We have been waiting for you to come through our front door. If you had not agreed to listen to our offer by the end of the summer, we would have gone and recruited you in August.”

  “I was vetted?” Belle asked, staring at Dawn.

  Zane could not tell if Belle was angry at that, or accepting the fact.

  “You both were,” Dawn said, nodding. “We saw both of you coming before either of you got here. Parks also owns a private detective agency and part of his agency’s job is to vet and do background checks on all historical researchers working and coming into the field.”

  Dawn laughed. “Let me tell you a quick story. Before the institute, before he knew what we are about to show you, Jesse, Director Parks, was doing a background check for Bonnie and Duster on Dr. Kelli Rae. She caught him, which let me tell you, is almost impossible. She caught him because of that picture I showed you.”

  Dawn shook her head, smiling for some reason at the memory. Then she went on with her story as she deftly got them through the downtown Boise traffic.

  “Kelli has a memory for faces and when she saw Jesse in the picture, then in real life, she thought she was seeing a ghost, or a distant relative. She knew the picture was real since she knew the photographer’s work and had gotten the picture from the historical society the year before.”

  “So what happened?” Belle asked as Dawn turned the big SUV onto Warm Springs Avenue and headed away from town toward the institute.

  Dawn laughed. “Both Jesse and Kelli were even angrier than you are when Bonnie and Duster and Madison and I met with them. They allowed us to show them what actually was going on, as you are allowing us. And it was Jesse who came up with the idea for the institute the very next day.”

  Suddenly Belle glanced back at Zane, her eyes wide.

  Then she looked at Dawn again. “You ever heard of the term Angel of San Francisco?”

  Dawn smiled and nodded.

  “I’ve seen pictures of the Angel of San Francisco,” Belle said. “A couple of them are actually hanging in the historical department at Stanford.”

  Dawn again just smiled.

  “Oh, shit,” Belle said, shaking her head and turning back to face forward as they got closer to the institute.

  “You want to clue me in on who this Angel of San Francisco is?” Zane asked. “My research sort of keeps me focused underground, if you know what I mean.”

  Dawn laughed.

  Belle turned in her seat to look at Zane.

  Zane was stunned. Belle’s eyes looked almost haunted.

  “From about 1890 through the big San Francisco earthquake and up to about 1930,” Belle said, “the Angel of San Francisco saved and helped more people than can be counted. She never once asked for a favor in return and she did what she did without any fanfare. There are only a few dozen pictures of her that have survived down through time.”

  Belle pulled the big SUV into the institute driveway.

  “Okay, so?” Zane asked.

  “Her real name was Bonnie Kendal,” Belle said. “And I now recognize her from the pictures in my department in Stanford.”

  With that, Belle just turned around and faced forward as Dawn took the big Cadillac to the parking area in the back.

  Zane had no idea at all what to say. It looked like Belle was starting to slowly understand.

  And that would help her very shortly.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  June 9th, 2020

  Boise, Idaho

  THE AFTERNOON AIR had warmed up, even under the big overhanging willow trees that shaded part of the parking area behind the big institute building. Zane could hear only the sounds of the river below the estate as he slowly climbed out.

  The other SUV was already there and no one was around.

  So he joined Belle and followed Dawn toward the back door that went into a basement under the wrap-around back porch on the big mansion. He had sat on that porch many afternoons, sipping on a Diet Coke before going back in to work, or heading down the path toward his apartment.

  That porch had a wonderful view, past the large garage building and through the trees and out over the slowly flowing river. He had been told that in the summer thousands of people floating in tubes and small rafts floated by, but it was still too early in the summer and the water was moving too fast for that.

  He had been looking forward to seeing that and maybe floating the river one afternoon.

  Dawn led them in the back door and across the basement full of old history books toward the staircase that led upstairs. The floor was covered with a thin carpet and the shelves were made of older wood. It felt like this room had been a fruit cellar before the institute fitted it with books that were seldom used.

  Of course, he knew that wasn’t the case. This had always been a decoy room right from the start in 1880.

  He had spent a few hours down here browsing in these old books, but had found nothing interesting in the slightest.

  Dawn glanced up the stairs, then back to make sure the door outside was closed, then she stepped past the stairs into an alcove of books and touched a side of one shelf.

  “Welcome Dr. Edwards,” a female voice said.

  Goldie. Zane wasn’t surprised to hear the same voice that was in the apartments.

  A shelf unit slid back silently and Dawn indicated that he and Belle should follow her into a well-lit corridor beyond.

  As he stepped into the corridor, the wall of books behind them slid closed with a click.

  “Can we get out of here now?” Belle asked.

  She clearly did not like the feeling of being trapped with a bunch of nut cases.

  “Sure,” Dawn said. “Goldie will open the door for you if no one is outside in the small library.”

  Zane nodded to Belle who only smiled faintly. Then he followed Dawn and Belle into what looked like a massive computer room. The room was the size of a small grocery store and had aisles and aisles of what looked like very expensive servers. None of them seemed to be working at all, none of their lights were blinking, and the big room was dead silent and a little cool.

  Dawn walked over to one wall without explaining the room and touched a screen.

  “This brings up a map of the entire facility,” Dawn said. “We’re the three dots here.”

  Again Zane was impressed at the security feature that hinted at. It was far advanced for this time. Same level as his time period.

  Dawn pointed to three dots against one wall in the very center of a huge, sprawling map that showed that this underground area was far, far bigger than just the institute building above it.

  “The mansions on both sides are owned by the institute,” Dawn said. “The underground secret part stretches under all three and goes into the ground three levels deep. I’ll explain later what some of the areas are for, and why three buildings.”

  Zane was flat impressed that Dawn was saying as much as she was. In his time, a hundred years in the future, the third building, the building for future time travelers beyond his time, wasn’t even mentioned.

  Belle just stood staring at the screen and shaking her head.

  “Wow,” she said. “How many people work down here?”

  “There are only thirty people counting you two who know about this p
lace at this point in time,” Dawn said.

  “So why so much room?” Belle asked.

  “Because we hope to continue to expand slowly into the future the work being done here,” Dawn said. “Right from the start this was built for the future.”

  “The three years ago start or the 1880 start?” Zane asked.

  “Yes,” Dawn said, smiling.

  Zane just shook his head and Belle looked annoyed, so he said what he knew Belle was thinking. “At some point a straight answer is going to be needed.”

  “That was a straight answer,” Dawn said, moving the image on the screen to the next level down. Four dots appeared there just below them, from what Zane could tell.

  “Good,” Dawn said. “They are in a room we call the living room.”

  Zane loved the living room. He had spent many a wonderful hour in that big cavern room in the future, talking with other researchers. And since it was mostly just a large cave, he felt completely at home.

  Then Dawn pointed to numbers of areas on the screen. “These screens are everywhere in this place and the exits are marked. Goldie will only let you out if there is no one on the other side. So sometimes you might have to try a second exit.”

  With that, Dawn headed down one row of the big servers.

  “What are all these for?” Belle asked, indicating the servers.

  “At times Bonnie and Duster and the other four mathematicians that are involved in all this need massive computing power,” Dawn said. “My understanding is that all this is extra power for those major math problems. There are ten rooms bigger than this at different points on the three levels.”

  “These are mostly servers,” Zane said. “More than likely this room is just storage.”

  He knew for a fact that in the future this room would be used for Belle’s genetics project storage in far more modern equipment, but he didn’t say that.

  Dawn nodded. “Makes sense. I never honestly asked anyone.”

  She went through a fire door and down a staircase carved out of rock. Their footsteps echoed in the stairwell.

 

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