Frank regarded Iggy over the top of his glasses. “Yes, I’ve heard of you. I read your published papers. You were leading the team to create AM weapons at the Secaucus installation. Just what we need. Even more destructive firepower.”
“Not true.” Iggy shook her head. “But we had to act like we were. You said it yourself—forced labor. In reality, we’ve been working on a project that could save humanity.”
He scoffed. “Oh, yeah? How do you plan to do that?”
Iggy graciously deferred to her protégé.
Sera paused. “Frank, we’re going to save Jackie K.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 19, 2013
12:01 PM – EDT
Startled, Frank stared across the desk at Sera’s determined look, mirrored by both Iggy and Jay. “What? Jackie Kennedy? She’s been dead for nearly fifty years.” Either he had misunderstood, or the government had obliterated his guests’ sanity.
“That’s correct. Jackie K. was murdered half a century ago in Dallas by KGB assassins.” Jay eagerly leaned forward. “The President and First Lady had been touring Texas in an attempt to garner support for the 1964 reelection. Polls showed that it would be an uphill battle for JFK to win a second victory there, even though his running mate, Vice President Johnson, hailed from the Lone Star State. I suppose it probably boiled down to Southern mistrust of a liberal Northerner and a Catholic to boot as their Commander in Chief. You know, I think a better strategy would have been—”
“Whoa, whoa, wait a minute.” Frank had been waylaid in shock, but had recovered. “We all know what happened. The Russians meant to get JFK, but they screwed up and killed Mrs. Kennedy instead. So what? It’s ancient history. Nothing can bring her back now.”
“Yes.” Iggy arched her eyebrow. “But what if we could?”
No one spoke.
The professor felt alarmed, but genuinely concerned for Sera. “You can’t possibly be serious.”
Sera silently counted to ten. “Frank, we’ve discovered Anti-Time.”
“What?” His empathy waned as his agitation waxed.
“We accidentally invented a way to travel through time.”
“Ridiculous.” He snorted. “I thought you needed my help. But you’re trying my patience. Everyone knows chrono-displacement is impossible.”
“That’s what we thought, too. It’s the reason it took us so long to figure out that we had stumbled upon an incredible breakthrough.” Frank tried to interject, but Sera plowed on. “Hear us out. You’re a scientist for heaven’s sake. Be objective and base your opinions on the facts.”
Frank sat back and acquiesced, putting on an indulgent expression, as if he were listening to a toddler explain how she could fly.
“Okay. The key to time travel is the conversion of Anti-Matter to Anti-Time. Lacking a better name, that’s what we called it—Anti-Time. Like we said, Iggy and I were being coerced to create weapons, but we only pretended. We put on a good front, working with the AM and studying its characteristics, but we had no intention of making a bomb. We thought the research could ultimately lead to a boon to society. Maybe an unlimited power source. Something good.”
Frank crossed his legs as he focused his attention outside the window.
Sera unconsciously quickened her pace. “Our biggest hurdle was containment. As you know, if Anti-Matter touches ordinary matter, kaboom, there go the scientists, their facility, and a sizable chunk of the eastern seaboard. We could make the AM using the radioactive properties of Gadolinium-146, but we needed to store it. The typical method of using a glass vacuum chamber with opposing magnets worked to suspend a tiny particle. However, the solution to finding the energy required for larger quantities eluded us until Iggy had the epiphany to use lasers. The basic contraption is similar, but she encased the AM in a brass sphere instead of glass. Within the sphere, six beryllium laser beams come at the particle from every side in three dimensions. Picture the beams penetrating the six sides of a cubical box.”
Jay nodded in encouragement, hanging on every word as if he hadn’t been part of the adventure.
“When we increased the energy, strange things began to happen. The containment device appeared to move. Subtly at first, with a bit of a shudder. When we intensified the power, it seemed to be out of phase, like double vision with the shadow of the apparatus superimposed over itself. We thought the laser configuration lacked stability, so we reversed the magnetic polarity to compensate. When we switched it on, the whole shebang disappeared for a fraction of a second.”
Frank took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose between index finger and thumb. He took a deep breath. “What the hell does this have to do with Jacqueline Kennedy?”
12:22 PM – EDT
Having survived the harrowing ride, Sutherland scurried after his supervisor as he stormed the Lehigh gatehouse on foot.
“Official business. Make way.” Zimmerman pushed past random bystanders. He thrust out his uniformed chest and waved his ID in the surprised guard’s face. “Colonel William Zimmerman, US Army. You have a known fugitive on campus. Jay Harding is here, and I demand to know who he is visiting.”
“Uh, Professor Thomas escorted Harding and his companions about an hour ago. They’re probably in his office, right here in Packard Lab, fifth floor.” He picked up a phone. “Shall I let him know you’re coming?”
“Absolutely not. I am giving you a direct order not to contact this Tompkins.”
“It’s Thomas, sir.” The gatekeeper suppressed a smile. “Enter through the main lobby, around the corner to the right.”
Sutherland curiously observed a male undergrad who had sauntered by. The kid hoisted up his backpack and ducked into a side door of the building using a keycard. No doubt students were afforded unrestricted access. Didn’t Zimmerman consider stealth in his tactics?
12:25 PM – EDT
In the office, Frank had doggedly pursued the Jackie K. angle until Iggy stepped in.
“Be patient!” she barked. “We’ll get back to that. Now, the AM problem. Jay had a brilliant insight.”
He blushed. “Well, I don’t know about brilliant, but I realized that the object shouldn’t be moving, right? Or disappearing either. So I went to quantum physics, you know, to contemplate alternate dimensions, alternate universes, that sort of thing. But nothing from our experiment fit with those explanations. I ran into a number of dead ends.”
Frank shifted in his seat, willing a finale from the young man.
“I started theorizing on what could be happening if the object was, in fact, not moving. The only conclusion I could reach was that it wasn’t, but we were.”
“How so?” Frank drew out his words with sarcasm.
“The object wasn’t traversing through space, it was traversing through time.”
Frank rolled his eyes and flipped his palms outward.
“No, no, really. Think about it. If an object really could travel in time, it would stay in one place, right? But during that interval, the earth itself would orbit and rotate. Let me show you.” Jay got up and bent over the orrery on the credenza to demonstrate.
At that moment, a student ambled into the doorway. “Excuse me, professor, but I thought you would want to know that some military dude is coming for you and your friends. A fat, angry army guy with a side-kick on steroids.”
Sera flinched. “Dammit! The warden must have tracked us.”
CHAPTER NINE
THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 19, 2013
12:28 PM – EDT
Iggy sprang from her seat. “We have to get out of here. Now.”
Sera and Jay followed her lead and bolted toward the door.
Frank gaped at them. “Warden—what warden?”
Sera turned back to her former boss, realizing they needed him. “The warden is Colonel Zimmerman from the forced-labor research installation. He’s come to capture us and take us back. We’re fugitives.”
Frank was having difficulty reorienting his t
houghts after all the time-travel garbage they’d been dishing out. “I knew you were playing me. But it still doesn’t make sense. How the hell did you escape from that facility? It’s the most secure lock-up in the country. Physically impossible to break out.” He folded his arms across his chest.
“Not impossible if you can travel through time.” Jay sallied forth. “But time is exactly what we’re short on right now, so if you would help us, we would be grateful.”
“Help? Sera, how could you do this to me? I trusted you and now you want me to risk my life by aiding criminals.”
“Your life? Frank, we have to get out of here, fast. If they catch us, we face the death penalty. You know, the Traitor Act.”
He shook his head slowly.
“Frank, they’re going to execute us.”
His posture deflated. “All I can do is get you off this campus. Then you’re on your own. Come on.”
He led them down the stairs to the main level and crept into the lobby. Outside the entrance, they heard a booming voice ordering the security guards to station themselves at each exit from Packard Lab. No one would be allowed egress without authorization.
Frank instantly deduced that the voice belonged to the Zimmerman character. With nowhere else to go, he frantically herded the group behind the glass-enclosed Packard car, Old Number One. He motioned for them to hunch down behind the automobile. Peeking over it, Frank saw an army colonel and a captain burst into the entrance and race down the hallway.
“Great strategy, Napoleon.” Sera stood. “You took us right into their path.”
“Look, this is the quickest way down.” Frank scowled as he cantered to the front marble steps leading down. His whole body tingled from shock. An hour ago, he’d been lecturing a class. Now, he was assisting federal prisoners on the lam.
When they reached the bottom, Jay broached the relevant conundrum. “Uh, Frank, the warden said they were guarding the exits. Do you have a plan for, say, getting us out?”
“You’ll see. Wait here a sec. I need to organize transportation for you.” He ducked into an empty office to make a phone call. Emerging less than a minute later, he held out a wooden chair and handed it to Jay. “Hold this.”
Mystified, Jay turned to Iggy.
She shrugged.
Frank escorted them down the corridor through unmarked double doors into a utility room. A myriad of pipes hung from the ceiling and climbed the walls—gray ones labeled Chilled Water Supply and yellow ones marked High Pressure Steam. He brandished a key and unlocked a tan side door that inexplicably read 160A. Reaching into the unlit interior, he grabbed a flashlight from a brace on the wall. “Let’s go, folks.”
They followed him single file into a cramped space with unfinished cement floors and cinderblock walls. The humid air reeked of rust and mildew. Frank instructed Jay to lock the door and jam the chair under the knob for extra protection.
Sera glanced into the gloom. “What is this place?”
“Welcome to the Catacombs.” Frank swept his lamp up and over the ceiling of the tunnel. Cobweb-shrouded pipes continued into the chamber, vanishing into the darkened passage. He explained that an elaborate heating and cooling system burrowed under the South Mountain campus. A power plant housed on the lower northeast corner supplied the sole source of energy for environmental controls; none of the buildings had boilers on the premises. The Catacombs provided underground connections among all the classrooms and dorms. He mentioned that the administration worked to keep its existence hidden from the student body for obvious reasons.
“I get it.” Jay nodded. “Secret keg parties in the Catacombs.”
“Exactly. You would think that at an engineering college, more kids would figure it out. But break-ins are pretty infrequent. The faculty and staff are well aware, of course, and we have keys in case of emergency.”
Iggy snapped her head up. “Then it won’t take long for them to guess what happened to us.”
“Right. Let’s go.” Frank wended his way uphill as quickly as possible, occasionally sloshing through puddles. The pipes around them thrummed with hissing steam and trickling water.
At the rear of the pack, Jay heard the unmistakable sound of a doorknob rattling. “Hurry up! I think they’ve found us.”
12:40 PM – EDT
The Soviet operative pushed his inflatable speedboat into the Hudson River on the shore of what was once Hoboken, New Jersey. Careful not to slip on the wet rocks, he hopped into the craft and deftly attached his backpack to a tether under the small motor. Unlocking a side zipper, he triple-checked the stowage of his stolen Anti-Matter weapon plans. Mission accomplished.
The Russian paddled to the center of the river, enjoying the sounds of lapping waves. A fishy smell emanated from the polluted water, but that remained the only blight on his senses.
Prying eyes and ears would not be a concern in these desolate environs. The spy started his engine and cruised downstream towards the ocean. The broken torso of the Statue of Liberty loomed ahead as he gazed at the ruins of Manhattan. The borough resembled an enormous cemetery, with partly demolished skyscrapers serving as memorials to the fallen. During the ’64 Nuke War, his comrades in the Strategic Rocket Force had attempted to obliterate the island with a one-hundred-megaton nuclear bomb. Enemy resistance fire caused the aircraft to veer off course and miss the target. The device landed ten miles short in the Atlantic, but achieved the same result. The detonation caused a massive tsunami that killed millions and destroyed the city.
What a waste.
12:45 PM – EDT
Having raced uphill through the filthy tunnels, Frank used his key to exit through another locked door onto a stone staircase below ground level. As they clambered up, he twisted to examine the surroundings. “No! This isn’t right. We’re at Linderman Library. I must have made a wrong turn at the intersection.”
Iggy peered past him at the grassy knoll. “Guards.” Several rushed in different directions, shouting updates. “We have to go back.”
Sera agreed as she leapt down the steps.
As they retreated, Jay bonked his forehead on a low pipe. “Are you sure you have your bearings now, Professor?”
“I don’t often chaperone felons through the Catacombs.” Frank leered at him. “In fact, it’s my first time. So cut me some slack as I try to navigate.”
Startled, Jay blinked rapidly as they doubled back.
12:50 PM – EDT
Fifty paces downhill, the pursuers saw the glow of Frank’s flashlight at the upcoming junction.
Zimmerman hooted with glee. “We have them now.”
As Sutherland watched in astonishment, his superior drew a gun and leveled it at the receding figures. It was a Locklier H2 2011, the beloved military brainchild. The target-locking mechanism ensured that once aimed, the hinged barrel tracked the intended mark even if the subject moved. And it had a factory-installed silencer. But those attributes couldn’t compete with the reason for its widespread popularity with governmental mercenaries: the frozen hydrogen projectile. The bullet evaporated upon impact, leaving no possibility for ballistics analysis. Today’s army wouldn’t be the same without it.
“Colonel.” Sutherland hardly dared to breathe. “Are you sure we have the authority to terminate? Iggy and Sera are needed to complete Project Vindictus.”
“Yes, we need them, but Jay and the professor are expendable. I’m sending a message.” He fired the 2011 uphill at Jay, the closest. But the turncoat rounded a corner, and the projectile slammed into a hot pipe.
12:52 PM – EDT
The rebels screamed as high-pressure steam exploded around them.
Frank shouted, “My God, they’re gonna kill us all!”
CHAPTER TEN
THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 19, 2013
1:00 PM – EDT
At the lower northeast corner of campus, Sutherland paced back and forth inside the college’s power plant. Deceptively small from the outside, it housed one story above ground and two below
that connected directly to the Catacombs. The box-like facility teemed with pipes, boilers, and instruments within floor-to-ceiling glass and steel walls. The contraptions reminded the captain of the cartoonist who created the crazy machines. It had a comic Rube Goldberg-esque look, as if someone might pull a lever at one end, causing a ball to drop, water to cascade down a mini-Ferris wheel, and coils to spring up, finally delivering a morsel of cheese to a mouse at the opposite side. Sutherland listened as Zimmerman chewed out a maintenance worker over the sound of roaring equipment.
“I don’t care what the consequences are. Just shut off the steam, dammit! As per article seven, section twelve of the Traitor Act, I have taken over security at this institution as the ranking military officer present.”
A groundskeeper for over twenty years, Danny kept to himself and followed his own agenda, albeit slowly. He smiled benignly at the colonel. “I reckon’ you gotta speak to the university president ‘bout that, sir.”
Sutherland grinned at the man’s audacity.
Zimmerman clutched his holster. “I am ordering you to do as I say. Because if you fail to obey, it is within my rights to shoot you where you stand.”
Shaken, Danny nodded. Maybe he should ask for a pay raise.
1:05 PM – EDT
Winded from the adrenaline rush of being shot at, Frank relaxed his shoulders as he opened a door into a basement. “This is it. Taylor Hall.”
Jay glanced around, waiting for an explanation but not daring to ask.
Frank elaborated that they were situated underneath an old dorm at mid-campus. The edifice had been donated in 1907 as a gift from industrialist Andrew Carnegie in honor of his friend, Charles Taylor, who graduated Lehigh in the class of 1876. In disrepair for decades, the residence hall suffered from ceiling cave-ins, major plumbing fiascos, and a water main leak. Eventually, the administrators disengaged the water supply and condemned the building. The university had planned to demolish it and start from scratch, but the U-shaped structure was one of the earliest in the twentieth century made of poured concrete. The TNT required to knock it down would have taken half the mountain with it.
Destination Dealey: Countdown to the Kennedy Conspiracy Page 4
