“So? Nothing came of it. Right?”
Nellie took a long, angry drag from her cigarette. It did not take her husband long to realize his blunder from the pained look in her eyes. They spoke of a whole year’s worth of suffering. “I am so sorry,” he said.
At that moment, Brooks walked into the room. “Mr. President. Madam President.”
“What’s the damage report, Brooks?” Nellie asked. She was referring to the automaton’s recent fall through the floor.
“Madam, the Hayes china has been completely destroyed.”
Both Will and Nellie turned their heads in surprise. “It’s gone?” she asked.
“Crushed beyond repair, madam.”
Nellie looked back at her husband. Her entire face changed. “That will be all, Brooks. Thank you.”
“Madam President. Mr. President.” He bowed on his way out the door.
Nellie could not believe it, and neither could her husband. “That’s good news,” Nellie whispered across the table.
“I know!” Taft replied. In one of Captain Butt’s many, many letters to his sister, he described the Hayes china “as ugly as it is possible for china to be.” Having them destroyed by the android was a breath of fresh air for the president.
“You said it was Archie’s idea to crush the automaton with the bathtub. You’re absolutely sure?” Nellie pressed.
“Yes. I think I’m going to promote him to major.”
“Do it,” she affirmed.
Taft grinned with delight while Nellie finished her beer. Aside from the ruined mansion, things suddenly seemed a bit calmer in the White House Kitchen. But only briefly. “If this was an attempt on your life,” Nellie started, “it means the mansion is no longer safe. You cannot spend the night here, Will. I won’t allow it.”
Taft’s face twisted with worry. “But Nellie—”
She locked eyes with her husband. “I won’t allow it. Not until Wilkie and Wickersham have this matter thoroughly investigated.”
“Why George?” Taft asked. “He’s busy enough investigating the strange case of Dr. Tesla and the disappearing assassin.”
“Unlike Mr. Wilkie, I trust Mr. Wickersham with my life. Have the two pay Thomas Edison a visit on George’s way to New York. I want them to sweat everything they can out of Edison about this monster he sold us. He has been a very bad wizard.”
“With gusto.” Taft smiled.
“There’s more,” Nellie added without returning the smile. “There is no way we can go on vacation with the mansion in such disrepair. Fortunately, the press is expecting us to be away for the next week and a half. That provides us some cover. You will accompany Mr. Lincoln to Alaska while I take care of things here.”
“You want me to leave you?” Taft asked in disbelief.
“We need to stay separate.”
The president could barely speak. “Is this because I was late?” he asked, devastated.
“No, Will. I am saying this because it is what needs to be done.”
Taft inched closer to Nellie, saying shyly, “Nellie, we were supposed to go on vacation together. I wanted us to be together. You and me. For your health.”
Nellie set down her glass and placed her cigarette holder across her lap. “Will, you know how it aches me whenever we are apart. You have all my letters. We shared the same grief every minute we have ever been apart. That is why you must respect me when I say that, for my health, I need you to stay away from me these next couple of days.”
Just like that, Nellie Taft rendered powerless the single most powerful man in the western hemisphere. Taft hung his head, feeling every ounce of failure in his three-hundred-fifty-pound body. “I understand.” The president set his glass down and began his quiet march out of the kitchen.
“Will…”
Taft turned around.
“I know that I am very cross with you, but I love you just the same.”
Taft’s whiskers curled. “My dearest Nellie…”
The first couple shared a darling embrace.
“Now listen,” Nellie said, getting straight to business. “You have less than ten days to solve this riddle up north. Mr. Lincoln is a man of science, just like his father was. If his concerns turn out to be unfounded, we can put this whole matter of Martians and pocket watches behind us. However, if he can gather scientific proof that there are or ever were ‘visitors’ to this planet, your administration could use it to quash the brewing scandal in Alaska once and for all. You would win more than reelection, Will. You could be remembered as one of the greatest presidents in history.”
Taft snickered. “Well, for all the fortune and glory that would bring us, you know I’d rather be chief justice than as wealthy as a roomful of robber barons.”
Nellie paused. The slight smile on her face faded.
“Nellie, what is it?”
“Nothing too important,” she said. “You just reminded me of something unpleasant I forgot to tell you. J. P. Morgan stopped by the house in Beverly while you were away.”
“J. P. Morgan?” Taft grimaced. “What does he want?”
“I don’t know! I didn’t meet with him. The man is a revolting human being. All I know is that he showed up in his motorboat the day before we left. His men said he wanted to speak with you in private. There were no reporters or cameras.”
Taft twitched his mustache. “He probably wants to give me more uninvited advice on how the Sherman Antitrust Act does not apply to him or his friends. Mark my words, Nellie: I will not have him bully me the way he bullied Teddy three years ago. Nobody is above the law in this country. If he thinks otherwise, you and I can redecorate the dining room with the heads of the animals from Upton Sinclair’s type of jungle! Just like this!” Taft seized his Monopole bottle and shattered it against the tabletop. He then stabbed his shard through the air, shouting, “Take that, Standard Oil! Take that, U.S. Steel!”
Nellie stood back and smiled. She loved moments like these. Moments when her husband, acting entirely on his own, looked and sounded like the president she always knew he could be. “Kiss me,” she required.
Taft discarded his weapon and effortlessly picked up his wife. The presidential couple kissed passionately as Will carried Nellie across the White House Kitchen floor. Within her husband’s embrace, Nellie felt lighter than air.
Chapter X
Up in the Air
“That’s quite a view, isn’t it?” Taft remarked to his friends. The moonlit twilight of the evening painted a breathtaking panorama of the National Mall from Airship One’s Oval Office.
The vast landscape was particularly striking for John Hays Hammond, who, like most people, had never seen the Washington Monument with the full expanse of the Potomac behind it. He rubbed the back of his nearly egg-bald head in disbelief. “I don’t know what to say,” he observed. “It’s dazzling.”
“Beautiful sights, plenty of food…” Taft helped himself to some of the amuse-bouche on his desk. “Gentlemen, we should do this more often!”
“Will, if you don’t mind my asking…” Robert approached with a glass of amontillado in his hand. “What do you plan on doing during this trip?”
“That’s a good question.” Taft tapped his champagne glass as he thought. With the exception of the three Secret Service agents—and Miss Knox—posted outside the office’s four doors, there were no staffers or secretaries in the zeppelin’s West Wing. Administratively, Airship One was operating with a skeleton crew. “Honestly, I don’t know. Maybe hit some golf balls into the mountains? See what happens?”
Robert and John glanced nervously at each other. “I think that could trigger an avalanche,” Hammond cautioned.
Taft stopped tapping. “Oh! Well, in that case, I guess I’ll just drink some hot cocoa and catch up on my reading.”
“Anything in particular?” asked Robert.
“Not really. The cleaners threw out my funny papers.” Taft’s eyes moved across the miraculously uncluttered office, eventually falling on
Robert’s well-thumbed copy of Tom Swift and His Airship on one of the room’s leather sofas. “How about that? Any chance I can borrow your book when you’re done?”
Robert looked at the book’s brightly colored dust jacket and smirked coyly. “Sorry, Will. I brought that for research.”
“What? You’re borrowing my airship! Why can’t I borrow yours?” Taft teased.
“Wait a minute,” John backtracked, “you’ve got hot cocoa in there?” He pointed his glass of vermouth toward the president’s remarkable cabinet.
Taft smiled proudly. “It’s got chocolate liqueur, if that wets your whistle!”
The Surprise cabinet meeting was interrupted by a knock at the door.
“Come in!” Taft laughed as he reached for another delightful amuse-bouche. Captain Butt walked in through Miss Knox’s door. “Archie! I hope you’re here to join our little summit.”
“I’m sorry, sir. I’ve come to report that the airship is ready to depart.”
“What’s our flight path?” asked Robert.
“We travel northwest through Canada. The land should be uninhabited once we clear the Great Lakes, so we can fly during daylight. The whole trip should take less than forty-eight hours.”
“You’re sure this time?” Taft prodded. His whiskers curled playfully.
The upright officer fell victim to the president’s infectious simper. “Yes.” Captain Butt smiled back at his friend.
“Very good, Archie. Have the cooks prepare supper immediately. We’ll be expecting you at our table.”
“As you wish, Mr. President.”
Taft finished his champagne and the remaining appetizers on his desk. “So, who’s hungry?” he asked as he rubbed his hands together eagerly.
* * *
Five bowls of terrapin soup, four roast canvasback ducks, three different types of desserts, two bottles of champagne, and quite a few laughs later …
“So I told them, ‘Hey! Can the number seven train stop here for a large party?’ And when it arrived, I jumped on the train and said, ‘You can go ahead; I am the large party!’”
The four men laughed heartily in Airship One’s elegant dining room.
“Has Will always been like this?” Robert asked John across the lavishly dressed table.
“Oh, yes. He hasn’t change a bit since his Yale days.”
“My bathroom scale disagrees!” Taft said to more merriment.
“Seriously.” John snickered. “I was two years ahead of Will, but he was always quite popular. ‘Big Lub’ was his nickname. He was our champion wrestler.”
“Heavyweight,” Taft emphasized, slapping his stomach.
“He was also salutatorian, a member of Psi Upsilon, Skull and Bones—”
“That’s like the Porcellian Club,” Taft clarified for Robert, “only better!”
Robert set down his coffee cup and accepted this Ivy League banter with a smile. “Tell me, Will. If Skull and Bones recruits only the best and brightest young minds, how come you got to join but John didn’t?”
Captain Butt raised his eyebrows. These were fighting words.
“It was a technicality,” Taft assured. “Jack went to Yale’s Sheffield School, which has a completely different student body with separate secret societies. Besides, judging from how much a man like Jack earns compared to being president of the United States, I don’t think he’s complaining.”
“I’m not,” John bashfully validated.
“Trust me,” Taft continued, “my father cofounded Skull and Bones, and three of my brothers are Bonesmen. If I went to Sheff, there’s no way even I could have gotten into the Tomb.”
“Actually,” John corrected, “that’s not quite the case anymore. At least not since I started teaching at Yale.”
“Oh, really?” sneered the proud Bonesman. “And why would that be, wise guy?”
John sipped his coffee nonchalantly.
“Mr. Hammond…” Robert’s ears piqued with curiosity. “What do you know?”
A Cheshire cat’s grin spread across John Hays Hammond’s face. “It’s a bit of an alumni secret, but some of my undergraduates at the Sheffield School figured out how to snoop on all of Yale’s secret societies, including the Skull and Bones tomb. I considered telling Dean Chittenden, but the students weren’t violating any laws or damaging any property. Besides, I must say I was quite impressed by their discovery! It was far more interesting than the interior of the Tomb.”
“Ha! You and all your engineer bookworms couldn’t break into our broom closet!” Taft challenged.
John thought for a minute. “Was the broom closet to the left or right of Yorick? I forget. There are so many doors in that dusty old place.”
The president’s smile disappeared.
“Yorick?” asked Butt.
“It’s the name of their skull,” John smirked. “And Will, as one Yale man to another, I must ask: Could you and your Bonesmen have possibly picked a less original name?”
Robert’s eyes shifted between both Elis. “Will?”
“All right, enough of this,” Taft grumbled. “I didn’t invite you two on this airship so we could play twenty questions. Mr. Lincoln, please explain to Mr. Hammond and the captain why you are taking us on this unexpected trip to Alaska.”
“Thank you very much, Mr. President.” Robert pushed his coffee aside and adjusted his spectacles. “Gentlemen. Earlier this year, I was asked to chair an executive inquiry on the recent reappearance of Halley’s comet. This decision was made by the president”—Taft nodded—“based on spectroscopic data collected by the Yerkes Observatory, the Harvard Observatory, and my personal observations in Manchester, Vermont. Our concern was nothing short of a credible threat to all life on Earth.”
“You’re talking about Professor Flammarion and his cyanogen scare,” John entered.
“Yes.”
“Mr. President, why wasn’t I told we were investigating this?” Captain Butt asked with concern.
“Because the investigation wasn’t official, Archie,” replied Taft. “Robert was working strictly off the books, same as you do every time you man the helm of this zeppelin.”
Or as Miss Knox was as she listened to this conversation from behind the dining room door.
Her notebook was open and her pencil was moving.
A clock chimed.
Chapter XI
[Written in Shorthand]
LINCOLN: CAPTAIN [BUTT], I CAN ASSURE YOU THAT OUR INVESTIGATION WAS STRICTLY SCIENTIFIC. ALTHOUGH THE MILITARY DID ASSIST US WITH OUR RESEARCH, MY TEAM DELIBERATELY OPERATED OUTSIDE OF THE GOVERNMENT FOR THE SAKE OF ANONYMITY.
BUTT: I RESPECT THAT, MR. LINCOLN, BUT SURELY A THREAT OF THIS MAGNITUDE—
TAFT: ARCHIE, IF IT HONESTLY LOOKED LIKE THE WORLD WAS GOING TO END, YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN THE FIRST PERSON I’D ASK TO DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT. BELIEVE ME.
BUTT: BUT—
TAFT: NO BUTS. JUST KEEP DRINKING YOUR WATER AND LET THE GOOD MAN CONTINUE. [LAUGHTER.]
BUTT: VERY WELL. MY APOLOGIES, MR. PRESIDENT.
TAFT: THAT WON’T BE NECESSARY. MR. LINCOLN?
LINCOLN: THANK YOU. WITH THE HELP OF SIR ROBERT BALL FROM THE CAMBRIDGE OBSERVATORY, WE CONCLUDED THAT THE APOCALYPTIC SCENARIOS OUTLINED BY PROFESSOR CAMILLE FLAMMARION OF THE JUVISY OBSERVATORY WERE UNSUBSTANTIATED. NEVERTHELESS, AS A PRECAUTION I ASKED ANY AND ALL AVAILABLE OUTLETS THROUGHOUT THE COUNTRY TO MONITOR THEIR SKIES THE NIGHT WE WERE EXPECTED TO PASS THROUGH THE COMET. TOGETHER WITH INFORMATION PROVIDED BY [BRITISH AMBASSADOR TO THE UNITED STATES] JAMES BRYCE, I WAS ABLE TO COMPARE ALL OUR FINDINGS WITH THOSE FROM SIMILAR OUTPOSTS THROUGHOUT THE BRITISH EMPIRE.
TAFT: WAIT A MINUTE. YOU WERE MONITORING THE SKIES AROUND THE ENTIRE WORLD?
LINCOLN: YES. BRIEFLY.
TAFT: YOU NEVER TOLD ME THAT!
LINCOLN: IT WAS AN ACT OF AMITY BETWEEN OUR TWO NATIONS. I DID NOT THINK YOU WOULD MIND.
BUTT: IN MR. LINCOLN’S DEFENSE, AMBASSADOR BRYCE IS A VERY KIND MAN. HE HAS BEEN WORKING HARD TO IM
PROVE ANGLO-AMERICAN RELATIONS DUE TO THE GROWING POSSIBILITY OF WAR IN EUROPE.
TAFT: WELL, IT’S NICE TO KNOW WE CAN COUNT ON HIM FOR THESE TYPES OF FAVORS! ANYWAY, PLEASE CONTINUE.
LINCOLN: ACCORDING TO OUR FINDINGS, NOTHING APPEARED OUT OF THE ORDINARY ANYWHERE ON THE PLANET, EXCEPT IN ALASKA. EYEWITNESSES FROM THE U.S. SIGNAL CORPS ALONG THE ALL-AMERICAN ROUTE FROM WILLOW CREEK TO THE TANANA RIVER REPORTED SOME SORT OF ATMOSPHERIC PHENOMENON EMANATING FROM THE WRANGELL MOUNTAINS. THE DISPLAY STARTED AT SUNSET, MAY 18: THE PRECISE MOMENT EARTH PASSED THROUGH THE TAIL OF THE COMET. WE EVEN RECEIVED SIMILAR SIGHTINGS DAYS LATER FROM A DETACHMENT OF THE ROYAL NORTHWEST MOUNTED POLICE OPERATING IN THE YUKON TERRITORY.
HAMMOND: WHAT DID THEY SEE?
LINCOLN: BLUE LIGHT. A SPECTACULAR, INCANDESCENT BLUE LIGHT LOOMING OVER THE MOUNTAINS LIKE A CLOUD.
BUTT: HOW DO YOU KNOW THIS WASN’T THE DEADLY GAS?
LINCOLN: BECAUSE CYANOGEN IS COLORLESS, CAPTAIN. AND EVEN IF THIS DISPLAY WAS SOME SORT OF LIGHT REFRACTION, IT STILL WOULD NOT HAVE APPEARED BLUE.
HAMMOND: IS THERE ANY CHANCE THIS WAS AN AURORA?
LINCOLN: THERE IS ABSOLUTELY NO WAY THIS WAS AURORA BOREALIS. AURORAS ARE USUALLY GREEN, AND NO OTHER AURORAS WERE REPORTED ANYWHERE IN THE REGION. FURTHERMORE, WE KNOW FOR A FACT THAT THIS BIZARRE DISPLAY WAS SUSTAINED, OBSERVABLE FOR SEVERAL DAYS UNTIL IT WAS CARRIED OFF BY THE WIND. THAT’S HOW WE WERE ABLE TO TRACE ITS POINT OF ORIGIN BACK TO THE WRANGELL MOUNTAINS. NOT THE KENNECOTT MINES IN PARTICULAR, BUT SOMEWHERE VERY CLOSE TO IT.
HAMMOND: HOW CLOSE?
LINCOLN: I’D SAY NO FARTHER THAN FIVE OR SIX MILES FROM THE MINES. MAYBE LESS.
HAMMOND: AND THERE WAS NOTHING LIKE THIS ANYWHERE ELSE IN THE WORLD?
LINCOLN: NOTHING EVEN REMOTELY RESEMBLING IT. ACCORDING TO ONE OF OUR WITNESSES IN ALASKA, THE SKIES RESEMBLED AN IMPRESSIONIST PAINTING.
HAMMOND: I MUST SAY THAT IS MOST PECULIAR, MR. LINCOLN. MOST PECULIAR INDEED.
TAFT: YES, I DON’T UNDERSTAND HALF OF IT MYSELF. FORTUNATELY, THAT’S WHY WE BROUGHT YOU ONBOARD, JACK! YOU WERE THE GUGGENHEIMS’S CHIEF ENGINEER FOR YEARS, SO PLEASE TELL US: WHAT MAKES THE WRANGELL MOUNTAINS SO [EXPLETIVE] SPECIAL?
The Great Abraham Lincoln Pocket Watch Conspiracy Page 9
