Why the hell would I cancel a phone number that I’ve had for years, I wondered. Then I realized that Verizon hadn’t heard from me in two years, so I walked into a store and paid cash for a cell phone with pre-purchased minutes.
“Bennie, it’s Jack, Jack Thurber,” I said when he picked up the phone.
“Who the fuck are you, Buddy?” Besides being a shrink, Bennie is also a cop, and his language tends to be blunt.
“It’s Jack Thurber, Ben, do you want me to spell it? I’m four blocks from your office. Can I come to see you?”
When I entered Bennie’s office on 61st Street, he was standing there with a Glock in his hand.
“Nice way to greet an old friend,” I said.
Bennie’s face turned pasty white. He put his gun on his desk and plumped down into his chair.
“Ben, are you okay”
“No, I’m not.”
“What’s the matter?”
“You’re dead, my friend. You died almost two years ago.”
Chapter 2
Bennie was sweating like a cold beer barrel on a hot summer day. He stared at me without saying anything. I saw a roll of paper towels in the corner by a wet bar. I walked over to the bar and I handed the roll to Bennie, who tore off a few sheets and wiped the sweat from his face.
Somebody had to talk first, and Ben wasn’t up to the task.
“I’ve done it again, Ben. I time traveled, this time into the future. I came here from July 1, 2015.
Ben stared at me and didn’t say anything. Then he started to cry. Ben would always tell people not to bottle up their emotions, and he was taking his own advice. He couldn’t get any words out through the sobs. When the sobbing stopped, he wiped his eyes with and blew his nose.
“Bennie, I think you owe your old friend an explanation.” My heart was pounding like a kettledrum. Bennie’s crying fit told me that the explanation wouldn’t be a happy one.
“It was November 26, 2015, Thanksgiving Day,” said Ben. “You and a bunch of other civilians were aboard the Abraham Lincoln with Captain Patterson, your beautiful wife, enjoying a special Navy League dinner. The ship was off the coast of New Jersey, steaming for Norfolk, Virginia. According to the news reports, the bomb detonated at exactly three o’clock in the afternoon. It was a nuclear bomb. Nobody survived, of course, including you.” Bennie looked up at me, some fresh tears running down his face. “But here you are, Jack, sitting in my office.”
Now it was my turn to be quiet. When a guy tells you that you and your wife are dead, it does nothing for a conversation.
“Come over here and roll up your left sleeve,” Bennie said. He looked at my arm. “There’s that scar you got from an accident as a kid. It’s really you, isn’t it Jack?”
I couldn’t breathe. I’ve experienced the weirdness of time travel before, but here is my friend telling me that I no longer exist. Ashley no longer exists. My world is over. Minutes passed before either of us said anything.
“It gets worse, Jack, if that makes any sense. Within five minutes of the first explosion, four more ships were nuked. They were all aircraft carriers, which made these attacks even worse than Pearl Harbor. Besides the Abraham Lincoln, the others that got whacked were the Harry Truman, the George Washington, the Carl Vinson and the Theodore Roosevelt. Over 26,000 people died. The death toll could have been a lot more, but all of the ships were at sea. Ever since the attacks, all military installations, including ships, have been under lockdown. To get onto a military base or a ship you almost need an Act of Congress. All of the cadets at West Point and the midshipmen at Annapolis now carry side arms wherever they go, including to class. Remember the annual Fleet Week in New York? That’s been put on permanent hold. The idea of having a bunch of unidentified civilians sightseeing on ships is out the window. And it’s not just military installations that have changed. As you walked here, did you notice more cops than you’ve seen before?”
“Yes, I thought there must be a police funeral or something,” I said. “The streets are crawling with cops. It looks like a different world than the one I left a little while ago.”
I changed the subject to a question, the obvious question. “Who did it, Ben?”
“A nuclear explosion doesn’t leave much of a crime scene to investigate. The FBI, Naval Intelligence and God knows how many other agencies are combing through the personnel records of every sailor in the fleet at that time.”
“Anybody claim responsibility? Al Qaeda?”
“Nobody. Not a peep. Not a clue. Everybody guesses that it’s al Qaeda, but nobody’s stepped up to claim the prize.”
“But what’s the purpose of a terrorist attack unless somebody brags about it?”
“That’s what has the government freaking out, Jack. The guess is that whoever did it is keeping it a secret because they’re planning more attacks. They found some big vulnerabilities and are still looking to exploit them.”
“Where were you when it happened, Ben?”
“I was walking back to my office after a court appearance. The Lincoln blew up off New Jersey about 50 miles from where I stood but I heard the blast.” Bennie started crying again. “When I heard it was the ship that you and Ashley were on I almost passed out. Jack, you look great. I cannot fucking believe that I’m talking to you.”
“That’s two of us, my friend. I’ve time traveled before, but I can’t wrap my head around this one.”
“You know, Jack, I’ve never been able to get this time travel stuff through my brain, but here you are, right in front of me, a dead man telling me he came here from the past.”
“After the bombings, Ben, what else has changed? Besides the military lockdowns, what does the country look like?”
“It looks like a basic third world dictatorship, Jack. After 9/11, we all were committed to maintaining our way of life. We weren’t going to let a bunch of terrorists control us. We lost the Twin Towers, the Pentagon got hit, and God knows where that other flight was headed. But we were able to move on. Except for the goddam security hassles at airports, we bounced back. Mayor Giuliani got on TV and told us all to go shopping, catch a show, take a walk in the park. In other words, carry on like normal. But five Navy ships gone within minutes? That was a game changer, Jack, that was the dawn of a new day, a dark fucking day. We were used to thinking that military sites were secure, but Thanksgiving Day 2015 changed all that.”
“So what else has changed, Ben?”
“Well, the first thing the president did was to suspend habeas corpus, a pretty basic part of our Constitution. He then started acting as if war had been declared, and nobody thought to dispute him. So we have one guy running the country, calling all the shots, and issuing commands off the cuff as Commander in Chief. Obama was succeeded by William Reynolds in January of this year. Reynolds put a rubber stamp on all the executive orders that came from the Thanksgiving Attacks.”
“President Reynolds?” I asked, “Back in 2015 I don’t remember hearing about a candidate named Reynolds.”
“William Reynolds was an obscure State Senator from Nebraska. He gave a great speech at a convention and walked away with the big prize on Election Day 2016. He doesn’t seem to enjoy his role as de facto dictator, but he has the support of the people by huge poll numbers. Thanksgiving Day 2015 changed everybody’s thinking. Nobody seems to give a shit about balancing security against civil liberties. People just want to be secure, and they’re willing to shave a lot of liberties to get there. I remember during the cold war there were a lot of Russians who longed for the good old days of Joe Stalin. A prick of a dictator if there ever was one, but people liked the stability he brought to the country. The scumbags who planted those bombs were a tipping point. They changed our country.”
“So now what, Ben? Ashley’s dead — hell, I’m dead — and America’s been plunged into darkness.”
“Jack, you’re the time travel maven. You tell me what’s next.”
“I’ll tell you what’s next, and I don’t even
have to think about it. I know what I have to do, Ben. Nothing’s ever been clearer. I’ve got to go back.”
“You gonna change history again, Jack?”
“Do I have a choice?”
Chapter 3
“Jack, as long as I’ve known you, even when we worked on your book, I’ve been skeptical about this time travel business. I think you’ve made a believer out of me. Shit, you’re dead, if you pardon me for reminding you. We’re talking about saving thousands of lives, not to mention yours and Ashley’s. We’re talking about getting back to some sort of normal life. We’re talking about reviving the phrase ‘American Democracy.’ I remember the philosophical horseshit in your book about never changing history. But sometimes history sucks, Jack. I say let’s change it. Let’s fucking change it. What can I do to help you pull this off?”
“I have time, Ben, 2015 time that is. I need a few days to learn every possible thing there is to know about the attacks. With all due respect to the FBI and the other agencies, nobody is better at picking the fly shit out of the pepper better than me.”
“You can set up shop here, Jack. I have an office down the hall that’s empty. It has a computer and Internet access. Also, you can stay at my place on 86th Street. I have plenty of room ever since I got divorced.
“I don’t want to impose on you, Ben. I’ll get a hotel room.”
“Do you think your credit card will be accepted?”
“I didn’t think of that. I also don’t have very much cash.”
“Jack, I still get a nice residual royalty income from your book. Here’s a couple of hundred for now.”
***
“Jack, one thing has my head spinning. These events, including your death, actually occurred, we didn’t imagine them. It’s history. If you pull this off, will all of the reports about the attacks just go away? Will the ships suddenly appear with all their crews, like it never happened? Do we just ignore all that stuff? I don’t get it, Jack.”
“Ben, ever since I wrote that book you helped me with, I’ve been called a time travel expert. How many times have you seen me on TV? I’m sure you remember the time when I was a junior officer and Ashley was the captain of the USS California. The entire ship slipped through one big wormhole and wound up in the Civil War and stayed in the year 1861 for four months.”
“Remember it? It was the most amazing experience of my life. I’m sure you remember that I was hired by the Naval Board of Inquiry to vet the witnesses, including you. It blew my fucking mind. Ashley testified that the California actually engaged in Civil War battles. She said that she did this to avoid a four-year war and save over 600,000 lives. So I sat there listening to this stuff, and I’m thinking, wait a minute. This lady’s not talking about the history everybody else seemed to know. Then she talked about meeting with Abraham Lincoln, and I almost passed out. My job, which is why I’m known as “Bennie the Bullshit Detector,” is to size up the truthfulness of witnesses, to see if they believe their own stories, not whether I believe the stories. So the California, also known as The Gray Ship, was missing for seven hours in 2013, but all of you people testified that she was gone for four months, gone in the year 1861. My head is still twisted from that Board of Inquiry. Jack, you’ve been my friend for a long time, and I know you’re a straight shooter, but I still have a hard time believing what you and the crew of the California believe.”
“Bennie, I’m dead, remember? People call me an expert on time travel, but that’s nonsense. All I know are my experiences. Maybe there is such a thing as an alternate universe, I don’t know. Maybe there are two Jacks, one alive in 2015 and one dead today. And maybe there are two Bennies, the one I’m looking at in 2017, and the one who lives in 2015. But the bottom line for me isn’t anything philosophical or theoretical. After I gather the evidence, I’m going back to the wormhole, back to 2015, and save Ashley’s life as well as my own and a few thousand sailors.”
“So after you disappear, Jack, I’ll be left with the recollection of this whacky story.”
“Something like that, my friend. It’s time for us to get to work.”
Chapter 4
“I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
I’ll never forget Father Rick Sampson saying those words, presiding over one of the happiest moments in my life. Ashley and I met when she was the captain of the USS California. I was a lieutenant in the communications department, promoted by Ashley from the rank of seaman. Long story. As Bennie and I discussed, the California spent four months in the Civil War, my biggest time trip to date. It had taken me years to get over the loss of my first wife, Nancy, who died in a terrible car crash that I actually witnessed. Thank God for my friend Bennie Weinberg for getting me through that. Ashley lost her husband Felix, a Marine Major killed by a sniper in Afghanistan. We were two lonely people on a strange journey in a strange time. The only positive thing about the Gray Ship incident is that we fell in love. Ashley’s a rising star in the Navy. A week before our wedding Ashley got her wings as a Navy pilot, and she’ll make admiral soon. She has guts, brains, and ability. She singlehandedly changed the course of the Civil War, a neat trick for a black woman, but that’s a long story. She’s also drop-dead gorgeous. As powerful a woman as she is, I feel like a lovesick teenager around her. Somebody’s out to kill her, and me, and I’m not going to let that happen.
Ashley’s folks and mine attended the wedding, as well as my younger brother Harry. Father Rick is our good friend, recently retired from the Navy with the rank of captain. He was the chaplain on the California when we took our time trip to the nineteenth-century.
After the California found its way back to the twenty first-century, Ashley and I took a 30-day leave at my lake house in North Carolina. A few days into our vacation, we both knew that we’d spend the rest of our lives together.
When I left 2015, Ashley commanded the USS Abraham Lincoln and we love the irony of the ship’s name, the both of us having met the man himself. Time travel’s weird, but it does give you some amazing memories. The thought of Ashley dying is now controlling my life. But I need to park my emotions at the curb and put on my investigative reporter’s hat. I’ve got a case to build, research to do, and I have to move fast.
Chapter 5
The USS Abraham Lincoln is tied up at its home port in Norfolk. Ashley is having lunch with Father Rick at the Officers’ Club. He retired from the Navy and is now the pastor of his own parish not far from Norfolk, St. John’s Episcopal Church.
“I’m sorry if I seem distracted Father, but I haven’t heard from Jack in two hours.”
Father Rick let go with his famous belly laugh.
“Ashley, you two haven’t even been married a year and you’re worried about being out of touch for a couple of hours? Besides, didn’t I see Jack on TV yesterday morning being interviewed on the Today Show?”
“Jack’s always on TV,” said Ashley. “I joke with him that I married a talking head. I know you think I’m just a love-struck newlywed, but my concern isn’t dumb. I called him and the message said the number wasn’t in service. He’s had that phone number forever. I emailed him, and every message got bounced back. I texted him and got the same message as when I called him. I tried his office at the Washington Times, and he hasn’t been in.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it, Ashley. A call to tech support will straighten this out. So how do you like being the honcho of a supercarrier?” said Father Rick, changing the subject.
“Frankly, Father, the stress is incredible. Compared to being a cruiser skipper, it’s like going from small town supervisor to mayor of a big city. As you well know, as my friend and advisor, I’ve always had this gremlin in me that screams that I’m in over my head, that my career’s getting ahead of me. I admit, if only to you, that I’m feeling overwhelmed.”
“Then why not look for some post that isn’t as heavy duty as running a big warship?”
“Jack and I have talked about just that. I have a friend at the
Pentagon who has been dropping hints that I’ll make admiral soon. The superintendent’s job at the Naval Academy should be opening in a couple of years. I’d love that spot. With Jack at the Washington Times and me at Annapolis, we’d work right near each other. Maybe we could actually be like a conventional married couple and enjoy each other’s company, without me getting deployed half way around the globe. Maybe we’d even have kids.”
“You two make a great couple. When we were on the California, I could see that you and Jack had a future together. The most enjoyable wedding ceremony I ever performed was yours.”
“Thanks, Father, but the knot in my stomach isn't going away. It reminds me of the first time I flew a jet of the deck of a carrier. If I could just figure out where Jack is."
Chapter 6
My name’s Dr. Benjamin Weinberg but everybody calls me Bennie. Like a good Jewish boy I made my parents happy by scoring good grades in high school and getting a scholarship to Yale. When I was accepted to Harvard Medical School I thought my mother would float away on her own private cloud.
Mom’s joy soon turned sour after I took a strange career turn, well strange to her but perfectly reasonable to me. After doing my residency in psychiatry at NYU Hospital, I joined the New York City Police Department. It wasn’t like I walked a beat in a blue uniform swinging a club. I joined the department as a psychiatrist. It seems that I had gained a reputation in an area that warmed the hearts of law enforcement people. I wrote extensively on the subject of evaluating the testimony of witnesses. I studied the field like it was the Rosetta Stone, reading everything I could on the subject and then adding my own papers and books to the literature. I became known as Bennie the Bullshit Detector because of my skill at spotting lies. Guys who cheat on their wives feel very uncomfortable around me. Prosecutors love me because I help them win cases. And I love my job because I help to free the good guys and lock up the bad guys. I also find my work fascinating.
Box Set - The Time Magnet Series Page 28
