Book IV

by Robert P McAuley

  “HI EDMUND. I’M AT CONEY ISLAND, 1955. BOY, YOU’D LOVE IT HERE. NATHANS FRANKFURTERS AND FRENCH FRIES FOLLOWED BY COTTON CANDY AND A TALL LEMON COKE. I’LL BE BACK AT THE CLUB IN ONE HOUR. SEE YOU THERE. LOVE, GRANDPA BILL.”

  Bill dropped a dime into the wooden turnstile and took the “F” subway train from the Coney Island station and got back to The 1800 Club in New York City in an hour. He had just reached his den and was about to drink the hot chocolate Matt had delivered when there was a tap on the door. He opened it and hugged his future grandson.

  “Come on in, sonny,” he said, as he guided the young man, “come in and sit down.”

  Edmund smiled and said, “Man, Grandpa Bill, you are the ‘wild one’ incarnate! I just love your leather motorcycle jacket, not to mention your jeans and boots. You are one cool cat.”

  “Don’t lip off to me, sunny boy,” answered a smiling Bill, “or I’ll tell my motorcycle gang about you.” He looked down at his outfit and said, “Hey, when in Rome, do as the Romans do.”

  “Well, I bet you fit right into the ’fifties, grandpa.”

  “I’ll change as soon as I get rid of you . . . you sassy young whippersnapper,” Bill quipped as he sat down opposite him. “Now, what did you guys upline dig up now? Last I heard was that you saw something about Amelia Earhart.”

  Edmund nodded, took a hologram cube and handed it to Bill. The younger man took a shallow breath and began to speak slowly.

  “Here’s a hologram taken in 1965. The council would like you to take a look at it. It’s from a book written and printed in Japan about how they defeated the U.S. in World War Two, and occupied a portion of America along with their ally, Mexico.”

  He paused, obviously short of breath in this poor environment, and then continued at a slower pace. “History Tracker Joseph Sergi follows the end of the first hologram with all he knows about it, and Amelia Earhart. He also explains how she was a major contributing factor to this glitch in history.”

  Bill activated the cube and sat back to watch it play out.

  Ten minutes later Joseph Sergi wound up his presentation as he said, “So, in closing, Mr. Scott, it all comes down to stopping Amelia Earhart from returning to the U.S.” The man in the hologram looked down at his hands as he continued, “We do not say kill her; but, we do say that she must be stopped from coming back. We know the Japanese will start World War Two on December 7, 1941, and we accept that, because we know the final outcome. But the computers tell us that should they attack sooner, and carry out their plans, the outcome could be bleak for the world. The United States would not be ready for a war at that period and Great Britain would be hard pressed with the German problem they face.” The hologram froze denoting the end.

  Bill sat there staring at the unmoving Sergi staring back at him. A cough from his future grandson got Bill back to the situation at hand. He stood and beckoned to Edmund.

  “Come on, Ed. We have to get you back to a better environment for your own good.” He walked him over to the door and opened it, “Tell the people up there I’ll get a plan together and brief them as soon as possible.” He gave him a hug and sent him on his way back up to 2066. He then turned to the club’s extensive library and removed a book titled, Amelia Earhart . . . Where Are You?

  Bill spent the rest of the evening reading all he could on Amelia Earhart and her final trip. The grandfather clock struck twelve midnight when he finished. He sent an e-mail to John Brand asking him to come to dinner the next evening, and then went to bed.

  DATELINE: DECEMBER 14, 1966 PLACE: DIAMONDS BAR & GRILL, NEW YORK CITY

  The following evening found Bill and John eating a steak and potatoes dinner at Paddy Diamonds Bar and Grill on December 14th, 1966. They were both bundled up in long overcoats that kept the winter’s chill off them. They sat by the large window that looked out onto the wide street, which was white with three inches of snow. Both men liked stopping in during this period of time, and had a few friends they had a drink with now and then.

  Big Bob, a retired World War II army sergeant, dropped a quarter into the Wurlitzer jukebox and soon the Beatles were singing “She Loves you,” and both John and Bill found themselves humming the tune. The back door opened and Paddy’s wife the thin, gray-haired Marge Diamond entered stomping snow off her shoes. She gave her big Irish smile to Bill and John and then told Paddy to lower the jukebox, to everyone’s dismay. Paddy grumbled as he lowered the volume. The music was another reason they both liked the time they were eating in.

  Paddy called from his side of the bar, “Bill, two here for ya.”

  Bill slid out of the booth and removed the two beers from the bar and returned to the red and tan plastic booth, torn and repaired many times with duct tape. He hefted his mug and said, “Cheers Johnny.”

  John pushed back his empty dish and lifted his mug to tap Bill’s.

  “Cheers, Bill.”

  Bill took two cigars out of his jacket pocket and offered one to John and lit both. Marge Diamond curled her nose at the cigar smoke and decided all was well in her husband’s bar and left to shuffle down the block and home. Paddy turned up the volume to the jukebox.

  Dinner was officially over and both time travelers sat smoking cigars and sipping their beers. They had an unwritten rule, “no business talk during dinner,” and now Bill briefed John on the new mission.

  Twenty minutes later, John said, “So, it comes down to stopping Earhart any way we can? Right?”

  Bill shrugged his shoulders and answered, “I guess so, but without harming her, of course.”

  John took a long pull on his cigar and asked, “According to the hologram, she survived and returned. Yet in our history books she never made it back. How do they explain that?”

  Once again Bill shrugged his shoulders, “They can’t. And I don’t understand it at all.” He sat forward, close to the table, “But suppose she did survive, and the government kept it a secret.”

  John blew a smoke ring as he asked, “Why? Why not tell the world she made it?”

  “Maybe,” Bill answered, “she had such crucial intelligence about the Japanese navy that the U.S. government decided to keep her return a secret. This way the Japanese never knew how much we knew. Make sense?”

  “Could be,” John said, “could be, but then, why didn’t they say so after the war was won?”

  “Who knows? But, no matter what, we have to stop her. Any ideas?”

  Now John sat forward, “From what I know of her, she somehow lost her way after she left New Guinea on July 2, 1937, as she headed to Howland Island for fuel. I understand there were some U.S. Navy people waiting there for her.” He spread his hands, “Some think she simply got lost and ran out of gas, others think she crash-landed on another island and lived her life out there. Others think that the Japanese intercepted and shot her down for flying over sensitive spots in their area. And there are some who say she survived and lived in seclusion in California away from reporters and the limelight.”

  “But why?”

  “Well,” John continued, “some think she ended up falling in love with her navigator, Fred Noonan. Maybe they wanted to disappear.” He looked at Bill and with a sigh said, “Let me go home and think this over. I’ll get back to you tomorrow, hopefully with a plan.”

  Bill left fifteen dollars for the check and a five-dollar tip for Paddy. They walked to the door as Paddy waved to them. “See ya soon gents,” he shouted over four young men harmonizing to The Drifter’s ‘White Christmas.’” They pulled their respective overcoats tight around them as they shuffled through the snow.

  Outside, Bill eyed a group of boys throwing snowballs at the passing people and busses. As they came within throwing distance he scooped up some snow and packed it into a tight snowball and handed it to John who grinned as he sized up the boys. Bill made another for himself and both tossed them at the boys, hitting two of them, as both men took off as fast as they could. The boys let out a shout and all started flinging snowballs at the unexp
ected and fleeing antagonists. Bill caught one in the middle of his back before they were out of range and the boys let out a victory cry.

  Shaking the snow off and laughing at their child-like behavior, the two men finally arrived at the gate to the club’s garden. Bill took the cold key from around his neck, unlocked and pushed the gate open through the mounting snow. He used the same key to unlock the big steel door that opened to the red brick walled staircase illuminated by the dancing yellow light of hissing gas lamps. They went up the stairs and opened the inner mahogany door to . . .

  DATELINE: 2011 PLACE: THE 1800 CLUB, NEW YORK CITY

  Both stood and shook hands as they shook the snow off.

  “Okay, John, shall I have lunch or dinner ready for you tomorrow?”

  “Lunch. If I don’t have it by then, well, I better have something.”

  “Okay,” said Bill as he removed his overcoat, “I’ll think on it too and, remember, anything we need, we get, so don’t worry about anything like that. Goodnight, good buddy.”

  Matt looked puzzled at the wet gloves left on the table, shrugged his shoulders and gathered up Bill’s clothes as Bill took a long hot shower.

  At ten minutes to twelve the next morning, Matt opened the door to Bill’s den. “Sir,” he said, “Mr. Brand is here. Shall I seat him?”

  Bill got up from his computer desk, “Naw, thanks anyway, Matt. I’ll bring him up.” He went down the long spiral staircase and saw John on the main floor. “Hey buddy,” he called down, “c’mon up.”

  John was all smiles as he took the stairs two at a time to meet Bill halfway.

  “I think I have it!” he said with a triumphant air.

  “Good “answered Bill, “let’s see if our ideas match up.”

  They entered Bill’s den and sat on either side of the coffee table. Matt had set up meats and cheese with bread and rolls. A hot pot of coffee and another pitcher of hot chocolate was on the sideboard.

  John made a sandwich as he spoke eagerly, “There’s only one way to handle this mission and that’s to go back and intercept her somehow before she reaches Howland Island.”

  Bill nodded as he pushed some papers toward his colleague. “My thoughts exactly. We have some problems to overcome, but I think it can be done.”

  John smiled and said, “Great minds think alike, Billy Boy.” He poured a cup of coffee and asked, “So, have you come to the same conclusion that this mission takes two people?”

  Bill grinned as he answered, “Yep! Me and you.”

  “Hah!” said John. He raised his right hand and both men slapped a high five.

  “A first,” said Bill, “a first for us to travel on a mission together.”

  “Will they let you go?” John asked. “I mean, they did say no dangerous trips for you.”

  Bill shook his head. “This is too big. I bet they’ll let that silly rule slide on this one. Now, what do you figure we need?”

  “Probably the same as you figured. An aircraft.”

  Bill cut in, “Not just any aircraft, but a long-range aircraft because we can’t just land anywhere and get gas.”

  “And, an aircraft that seats four,” added John. “Can they get us one?”

  “They say they can get us anything we need to complete a mission, so, they better if they want this mission to succeed,” Bill said, picking up paper and a pencil. “I’ll make a wish list and text it up to Edmund.”

  An hour later they agreed the list was complete, Bill ticked off the items needed for the mission, sat back and read the list out loud.

  “One long-range aircraft that will not look out of place in the late-thirties. A modern navigation system.”

  John nodded and lit the cigar Bill had offered him. Bill lit his, too, and said through a cloud of smoke, “I’m going to call Matt and go over the plan with him. I think we’re going to need him on this one.” He pressed a button on his desk and at once Matt answered and Bill asked him to come up.

  Opening the door, the butler asked, “You rang, sir?”

  “Yes, Matt. John and I are going out on a mission and we need a wheelman. How’d you like to drive a Mack truck for us in the late thirties?”

  “If you wish, sir. I’ll be only too glad to assist you and Mr. Brand on your mission.”

  “Good, Matt, you’re in. Now grab a seat and hear our plan.”

  An hour later Bill sent a text message to Edmund Scott in 2066. It read:

  “EDMUND, I BELIEVE WE HAVE COME UP WITH A PLAN TO STOP AMELIA EARHART FROM RETURNING WITHOUT HARMING HER IN ANY WAY. TO ACCOMPLISH THIS, WE NEED A FEW ITEMS.

  FIRST, AN ULTRA LONG-RANGE AIRCRAFT WITH A FOUR-SEAT ARRANGEMENT.

  SECOND, AN EASILY UNDERSTOOD NAVIGATION SYSTEM. I HAVE OTHER THINGS I’LL BE BRINGING FROM MY TIME.

  I NEED YOUR ANSWER BEFORE PLANNING ANY FURTHER. PS. I’LL BE GOING ON THIS MISSION ALONG WITH JOHN BRAND. ALSO, MATT WILL BE JOINING US FOR A TIME.

  REGARDS, BILL SCOTT, 1800 CLUB, 2011.”

  After sending the message, Bill looked at the other two men and said, “Dinner’s on me, guys. What say we go to Paddy Diamonds in, oh, say 1865 or 1900?” He looked at John and Matt, but they said they had no preference.

  “Okay, then,” Bill announced, as he tossed a coin, “heads, 1865; tails, 1900.” He flipped the coin and the three dressed in clothes of 1865 and went to dinner.

  DATELINE: JUNE 29, 1937 PLACE: PORT DARWIN, AUSTRALIA

  It was 6:15 a.m. and the silver, twin-engine aircraft stood at the end of the long runway, straining at the brakes as Amelia Earhart ran up the engines in a power check.

  The props sent dirt and debris flying back in its wash and the few people who watched history in the making silently wished them good luck. The flight before the pilot and her navigator was a long one, more than 1,200 miles over open water dotted only by a few small islands.

  Their destination was Lae, New Guinea, and at 6:29 a.m., satisfied that all was well with the Lockheed Electra, the brakes were released and the take-off roll started.

  Finally, the fuel-laden aircraft lifted into the cool morning air and disappeared into the haze for the seven-hour-and-forty-three-minute trip.

  DATELINE: 1865 PLACE: DIAMONDS BAR & GRILL, NEW YORK CITY

  The summer evening was warm, and over beers and turkey sandwiches the three time travelers worked on tightening the plan. As they finished, Paddy Diamond sauntered over carrying a large bowl.

  “Pig’s knuckles,” he said with a big grin, “just got these in today, gents. Fresh as can be. Thought I’d give a taste to a few good steady customers.” The three grabbed one each and thanked him.

  “So, Matt,” said Bill, “if it all goes as I plan, you’ll be driving a mid-thirties, Mack flatbed truck to and from Mitchell Field on Long Island. Up to it?”

  Matt nodded and answered, “Yes sir, I have my New York State driver’s license for many-sized vehicles from almost any driving period. The Mack truck was one of my favorites. A large fellow with a lot of gears.”

  “Excellent,” Bill said. “Guess we should go back while we wait for a text message from upline.”

  The three got up from the wooden booth, paid Paddy and left the bar. They walked the few blocks back to the garden of The 1800 Club and a few minutes later entered the den in 2011.

  DATELINE: 2011 PLACE: THE 1800 CLUB, NEW YORK CITY

  Mat offered to bring Bill and John some brandy and cigars as they waited to hear from Edmund Scott. He left the room just as the communicator on Bill’s desk vibrated and a message came through.

  “GOOD NEWS BILL. AS YOU KNOW THE HISTORY TRACKING COUNCIL HAS CLOSE TIES WITH MANY SOURCES FOR ITEMS NEEDED FOR OUR VARIOUS MISSIONS.

  IN THAT VEIN WE HAVE PROCURED A 2047 VISIONAIRE FROM THE LOCKHEED/SUKHOI CORPORATION FOR YOUR MISSION.

  THE VISIONAIRE IS A TWIN-ENGINE (ELECTRIC DRIVE, PROPELLER) ULTRA LONG-RANGE EXECUTIVE AIRCRAFT THAT SEATS FOUR BESIDES THE PILOT AND CO-PILOT AND IS A HIGH-ALTITUTE, SOLAR-POWERED AIRCRAFT.

  BECAUSE IT IS SOLA
R-POWERED, IT HAS AN ALMOST UNLIMITED RANGE AND BEST OF ALL CAN BE BROKEN DOWN INTO UNITS SMALL ENOUGH TO FIT THROUGH THE ENTRY PORT (THE CLUB’S DOOR) INTO WHATEVER TIME YOU NEED IT TO BE IN.

  IT FITS TOGETHER WITH NO TOOLS. JUST INSERT ITS NUMBERED PARTS INTO EACH OTHER AND THEY LOCK IN PLACE. I’M TOLD THAT NO PART IS HEAVIER THAN 100 POUNDS AND CAN BE BROKEN DOWN IN THE SAME FASHION.

  THE BIGGEST ASSET OF THIS AIRCRAFT IS THAT A PILOT CAN SELECT ANY TWIN-ENGINE AIRCRAFT THAT HE IS FAMILIAR WITH, ENTER IT INTO THE VISIONAIRE’S COMPUTER AND THE VISIONAIRE WILL FLY EXACTLY THE SAME WAY AS THE ONE INPUTTED.

  WE ALSO HAVE FROM THE SPERRY COMPANY, AN UP-TO-DATE NAVIGATION SYSTEM THAT NEEDS ONLY TO BE TYPED INTO THE COMPUTER, JUST ENTER THE STARTING POINT AND THE DESTINATION TO TAKE THE AIRCRAFT ANYWHERE YOU WANT TO GO AUTOMATICALLY.

  OUR COUNCIL WILL HAVE THE AIRCRAFT READY WHEN YOU NEED IT. REGARDS FROM THE COUNCIL, EDMUND. PS. THEY NEVER MENTIONED ANYTHING ABOUT YOU GOING ON THE MISSION.”

  Matt came back into the room with the brandy and cigars as Bill said, “Well, guys, looks like the plan is taking shape.”

  “Sir,” asked Matt as he lit the three cigars, “when do we leave?”

  Bill looked at John and asked, “Can you get the location and time that we must be at in order to intercept Earhart’s aircraft?”

  John blew out a smoke ring, nodded and answered, “By tomorrow morning I should have all the information we need. I’d guess we could leave anytime after that. And as for flying the aircraft, I’ll just program it to fly like a Twin Beech, which I fly all the time.”

  “Fine.” Bill looked at Matt and said, “We’ll need a few outfits of the 1937 period, and money too.”

  Matt nodded as he took notes.

  Bill continued, “I’ll be setting up my laptop tonight and burning a bunch of CDs for when we have to prove to Earhart that we are from another time. I’ll also contact Edmund about getting the aircraft into the garden in 1937 at a date we’ll tell him.”