We walked on thick, oriental carpets under giant crystal chandeliers that looked as if they’d come from a European castle. Several sitting areas had red-leather furniture where people sat chatting or reading newspapers. Nobody spoke above a whisper. It was like being in church, or a library. It was pretty obvious that you had to have bucks to stay here. This was no cheapy hotel like the one my parents took me to at Niagara Falls. That place was skuzzy and smelled like b.o. Here you could eat off the floor. Not that you’d want to. Everyone I saw looked as if they had just stepped out of an old-fashioned department-store window. All the men wore suits and hats. The women had on dresses.
There were only two people in the whole room who looked totally out of place-me and Spader. I was feeling pretty stupid wearing a bright blue suit with shoes to match. Spader didn’t look much better in Gunny’s big coat.
“We’re out of our league here,” I whispered to Gunny.
“Nonsense,” Gunny replied. “You’ll fit right in.”
Yeah, right. If we were circus people here to juggle for the good folks.
“Come with me,” Gunny said, and walked off.
We followed him, staying close, hoping nobody would notice us. Gunny walked through the lobby like he owned the place. He had a slow, smooth walk that said, “This is my house and I’m proud of it.” Several people nodded and smiled at him as they passed. Gunny knew everybody’s name and had a little something personal to say to each of them.
“Afternoon, Mr. Galvao, see you again next month. Hello, Mrs. Tavey. I see you’ve been to our beauty salon. Very lovely. Mr. Prevett, your luggage has all been sent ahead, just as you requested.” The guy was good. He knew every guest by name. No wonder he was a captain.
We made it across the lobby and up to a bank of shiny, brass elevators. Gunny hit the button.
“Where are we going?” asked Spader.
Gunny glanced around casually to make sure nobody could hear him. “They’re doing a big renovation up on the sixth floor,” he said softly. “Nobody will know if we have a couple of spacemen staying there.”
That sounded pretty cool to me. We were going to be staying in the swankiest hotel in New York, with a whole floor to ourselves. Not bad. The elevator door slid open and Gunny motioned for us to enter.
There was a guy inside. He was a little dude, about my size, with wire-rimmed glasses, who wore the same uniform as Gunny. The only difference was he only had two gold stripes on his sleeves and wore a round cap with a flat top.
“Going up!” he announced professionally.
“Sixth floor, please, Dewey,” said Gunny.
“Yes sir, Mr. Van Dyke,” he said with a squeaky voice. “Sixth floor.”
The little guy was the elevator operator. He slid the elevator doors closed, pushed the handle, and the elevator immediately started…down. “Oops, sorry,” he said. He pushed the handle and the elevator jolted to a stop. He struggled with it and the elevator shook. He finally found the right gear and we started to go up. Phew. The operator gave us a sheepish look of apology. I didn’t get his problem. Up, down, start, stop. Not a whole lot of options. I had the strong suspicion that this guy might be a nimrod.
“This is Dewey Todd,” said Gunny. “His father built this hotel.”
That explained a lot.
Dewey looked up at Gunny with a scowl. “I asked you not to tell people that, Gunny. I don’t want people treating me different. I want to make it in the hotel business on my own.”
“Well, you’ve almost got the elevator part, mate,” said Spader, trying to hold back a smile. “That’s a good start.”
Dewey smiled proudly. He didn’t get the cut.
“Sixth floor!” he announced, and slid the door open. We all made sure the elevator was safely stopped and everything was cool before stepping out.
“Enjoy the costume party,” Dewey said. “Those are great circus outfits!”
“We’re spacemen,” I corrected.
“Oh, sorry.” He closed the elevator doors and we were alone.
“He really is a fine boy,” Gunny said, chuckling. “Just a little confused sometimes.”
“I know the feeling,” I said.
The sixth-floor hallway was definitely being worked on. The walls were bare and there were painting tarps spread out all over the place. As Gunny led us down the corridor he explained, “This was the first floor they finished when the hotel was new, so it’s the first they’re going to modernize.”
Modernize. What a joke. They were trying to make this floor look like 1937. Not exactly “modern” by my standards. We reached the end of the corridor and turned left into another long corridor. Gunny walked up to room 615 and used a key to open it up.
“Welcome home, gentlemen,” he said.
The room was huge. Actually, it was a couple of rooms. I think they call this a suite. I could imagine that when the work was finished, this was going to be a pretty fancy place. But right now, while they were doing the renovation, it was being used as a storage area for chairs and sofas.
“You sure this is okay, Gunny?” I asked.
“Absolutely,” he answered with confidence. “It breaks about eighteen different hotel rules, but I’ve been here long enough to pull the right strings. Just don’t go ordering room service.”
There were a bunch of sofas lined up in a column along one wall. They were up on their arms and reached almost to the ceiling. All we had to do was bring two down and we’d have a comfortable place to sleep. There were big cushy chairs, along with a bunch of stacked tables. There was only one thing missing.
“Where’s the TV?” I asked.
Gunny gave me a curious look. “The what?” Duh. TV wasn’t invented yet. “Never mind,” I said, feeling like an idiot. “How about a radio?”
“I’m sure there’s one around here someplace,” answered Gunny. “Are you two hungry?”
“Absolutely,” I answered.
“I could go for a kooloo fish and some sniggers,” said Spader.
Gunny gave him the same curious look he gave me when I asked about the TV. “I’ll see what I can find,” he said. “You two make yourselves at home. I’m going to get you some clothes. Is there anything else you might need?”
“Something to write on,” I said. “We’ve got to keep up with our journals.”
“Right,” answered Gunny. “I’ll be back.”
Gunny ambled out of the room, leaving Spader and me alone. I walked to the far side of the room, where fancy doors led to a balcony. I opened them and stepped outside. It was close to sunset. From our sixth-floor landing, I got a pretty good view south and west, where the sun was headed down.
“Is this where you grew up?” asked Spader. He was standing right behind me. I hadn’t heard him coming.
“No, about thirty miles from here,” I answered. “And more than half a century in the future. How weird is that?”
It really was. This was home, but not really. I had an idea that maybe I should try to find my grandparents. They were around in 1937. But then I remembered that my family had disappeared. Did that mean our whole family history disappeared along with them? I had to stop thinking about it. It was making me homesick.
“It’s a scary-do,” Spader said while gazing out at the city. “I’ve never seen anything so busy.”
“You’ll get used to it,” I assured him. ”I suppose so,” Spader added. “But I’m thinking about Saint Dane. There’s a lot of natty-do that monster could get into in a big city like this. How are we going to find him?”
Good question. Saint Dane loose in New York City was a scary thought. “Something tells me he’ll find us,” I said. “I’m going to take a shower.”
The bathroom was almost as big as the living room. This was definitely a suite for hotshot guests. The whole room was covered with white tiles. The bathtub was huge and stood on feet. There was a giant silver showerhead that sprayed enough water to wash a horse. I cranked up the shower, got it good and hot, and stood undern
eath the spray to let it massage my head.
As I stood there trying to get brain dead, an odd thought hit me: I wasn’t going to school anymore.
I know. Weird thing to think about all of a sudden. Maybe it was because I was sort of home. Part of me was psyched. School was important and all, but it wasn’t exactly something I looked forward to. On the other hand, schoolwasimportant. It was where you learned stuff. What your parents didn’t teach you, school did. As I stood in that shower, I actually started to get nervous. All my friends were going to pass me by. They were learning things that I wasn’t.
Then I thought of all the places I’d been that day. Hmmm. Maybe I was getting a pretty intense education after all. I wasn’t going to Stony Brook Junior High anymore; I was a full-time student at Traveler U. Maybe that was all the education I was going to need. After batting these ideas back and forth in my head, I came to one solid conclusion:
All this thinking was ruining my shower.
I stood there for another ten minutes, then found a stack of thick white towels, dried off, and left the bathroom to Spader.
A few minutes later I was in the living room, settled into a cushy chair with my feet up while Spader washed away his own thoughts. I was so dog tired, my eyes started to close. It was the first time since we got here that I could let the air out, and it felt great.
Then an urgent knock came at the door.
My eyes shot open instantly. I wasn’t asleep anymore. I wasn’t even tired. So much for letting the air out.
Spader poked his head out of the bathroom. He shot me a questioning look that said, “What do we do?”
I had no idea. We were busted. It looked like our stay at the hotel was going to be a short one.
(CONTINUED)
FIRSTEARTH
This looked bad. How could we ever explain who we were and why we were hanging out on aclosed floor of the hotel? In bathrobes. I didn’t want to get Gunny in trouble, but I didn’t want to get arrested, either.
I snuck quietly over to the door, desperately trying to think up a story that would get us off the hook. None came. I peered through the peephole to get a look at who we would have to deal with and saw…
“Room service!” announced Gunny with a big smile.
Phew. Talk about relief. I opened the door and Gunny came in wheeling a big cart that was loaded with those silver domes they put over plates to keep them hot.
“Feeling better?” he asked.
“I am now,” I answered. “We gotta get a secret knock or something so we know it’s you.”
“Secret knock. I like that,” Gunny said with a sparkling smile. “Like G-men.”
“Like what?” asked Spader as he walked in with a towel around his waist.
“Can we eat now?” I asked.
“All in good time, gentlemen,” Gunny said. “We’ve got business first.”
The cart was draped with a white tablecloth that went down to the floor. Gunny reached underneath and pulled out two brown packages. “Try these on for size,” he said, and tossed one to each of us. We tore them open to find our First Earth clothes, courtesy of one of the shops here in the hotel. We each had a pair of wool pants with jackets. My pants were light gray with a darker gray jacket. Spader’s were a light brown with a matching jacket. We each had plain white shirts.
“What do I do with these?” Spader asked as he held up a pair of long, white boxer shorts.
Gunny laughed. “Don’t they wear underwear where you come from?”
“Sure,” answered Spader. “But I could make a sail out of these. They’ll get all twisted up.”
I put mine on and they came down to my knees. But you know what? I didn’t care. It felt good to wear regular cotton underwear again, even if I looked like some kind of grandpa. We also had white T-shirts, black socks, and dark leather shoes. The pants had suspenders, too. That was kind of cool. I’d never worn suspenders before. And everything fit perfectly. Gunny was a good judge. After we both got dressed, Gunny looked us over and smiled.
“Now you look like you belong,” he said proudly.
“Can we eat now?” I asked.
“Patience, shorty, patience.” Gunny reached under the cart and pulled out a stack of white paper and a small typewriter. “You can use this to type your journals,” he said. “It’s faster than writing.”
“What is that thing?” asked Spader. ”I’ll teach you,” I said. I had only typed on a computer keyboard before, but figured I could learn how to do it the old-fashioned way. “Now can we eat?” I begged. The smell of the food was making me salivate.
“One more thing,” said Gunny. “Since you boys are going to be coming and going around here, I figured out a way you can fit right in.” He reached back under the cart and pulled out two uniforms like the one Dewey, the elevator guy, wore. “You’re going to work here as bellhops.”
“What’s a bellhop?” asked Spader.
Gunny explained. “You greet guests, help them with their luggage, and run errands around the hotel. It’s easy work, and you’ll have a terrific boss.”
“Who?” Spader asked.
“Me.”
“This all sounds good but, can wepleaseeat now?” I asked in desperation.
“Have a seat, gentlemen,” Gunny said. “It’s chow time.”
We both sat down while Gunny wheeled the cart in front of us. “I wasn’t exactly sure of what to order,” he teased. “But after some deep thought, I believe I came up with the perfect menu.” With a flourish, Gunny lifted up two of the silver domes.
What I saw made me so happy I wanted to cry.
Since I left home I had eaten some very strange food. It wasn’t bad, just different. On Denduron I had lots of vegetables and an occasional rabbit. On Cloral I ate a ton of fish and all sorts of weirdball fruits and vegetables from the underwater farms. On Zadaa, Loor had made us some good crunchy bread along with spicy vegetables. All of the food I had was good, but nothing compared to what was sitting before us right now. We each had our own big, juicy cheeseburger and pile of golden French fries…direct from heaven. Gunny reached under the cart and pulled out a champagne bucket loaded with ice and bottles of Coke.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“I think you’re a genius,” I said quickly.
Spader wasn’t enthused. “What is that stuff?” he asked nervously.
“Cheeseburger, French fries, Coke-food of the gods, my friend,” I said. I lifted up my burger, took a delicious whiff, closed my eyes, and wolfed into it. Oh, yeah, I was home.
Spader lifted up a fry, looking at it curiously. “What exactly is a french before it’s fried?” he asked.
“White vegetable, cut in strips, fried in grease,” I answered. “Stop talking. I’m trying to focus.”
We didn’t say another word for the rest of the meal. Spader ate reluctantly, but didn’t seem to hate it. I put ketchup on our fries and salted them up real good. Man, they were excellent. The whole while Gunny stood over us, smiling. He was like a proud chef who enjoyed the way his food was being appreciated.
Then, for dessert, Gunny lifted two more silver covers to reveal…banana splits. Yes! He even had a couple glasses of milk to wash it all down. It was all so incredibly excellent. It had been a very long day, but this dinner made it all worthwhile. I wanted it to last forever, but my stomach was screaming for me to stop. I was totally stuffed and absolutely happy.
“Now don’t go expecting this kind of service again,” Gunny cautioned. “This is special because you just arrived. After this you eat in the kitchen with the rest of the staff.”
“Gunny,” I said. “You have no idea how perfect this is.”
“Oh, I got a pretty good idea,” he said with a smile. ”But it’s better than you think,” I added. “Tomorrow’s my birthday and this is the best present ever.”
“Then happy birthday, shorty,” Gunny said, beaming. “Many happy returns.”
“Happy birthday, mate,” said Spader. “Wish I could ra
ise a pint of sniggers.”
“Yeah, but this’ll do me just fine,” I said, holding up a bottle of Coke.
Gunny took the now empty cart and put it by the door. He then came back into the living room and sat down with us. As much as I wanted to kick back, burp, and pretend life was good, that wasn’t meant to be. We were here for a reason, and it wasn’t to gork out stuffed on burgers.
“This is all new to me,” Gunny said. “Chasing Saint Dane, I mean. What do we do?”
It was time to get down to somerealbusiness. The party was over.
“All the territories are reaching a turning point,” I said, holding back a burp. “We’ve got to figure out what that turning point is here on First Earth, and what Saint Dane is doing to push it the wrong way.”
“This should be snappy-do, Pendragon,” Spader announced. “You’re from this territory. I mean, you’re from thefutureof this territory. Think of something big that happened in 1937 that Saint Dane might be messing around with.”
The pressure was on. I wasn’t very good at history. It all seemed so boring, memorizing dates and places and speeches made by guys I didn’t care about. But even though I was historically challenged, it didn’t take me very long to come up with an idea. To be honest, it was a no-brainer.
“You’ve got something, don’t you, mate?” Spader asked with a sly smile. I did, but I wished I didn’t. The more I thought about it, the more freaked I got. This was bad. This wasreallybad. My heart started to pump faster and my palms got sweaty.
“What is it?” asked Gunny.
“Thereissomething,” I began. “I don’t remember all the dates. But there is definitely something big about to go down.”
“So tell us, mate!” exclaimed Spader.
“The war you were in, Gunny,” I said. “The Great War? That became known as World War One.”
The Never War tpa-3 Page 5
