by Dan Gutman
“Okay, okay. I got it,” Julia said. “We’ll keep our mouths shut. Now, why are we here?”
“We know about Miss Zandergoth, and we know about the Board,” said Ms. Gunner. “We know that she has been sending you back in time to take photographs in the past. We know everything.”
“How did you find out?” asked Julia.
“A little birdie told me,” Ms. Gunner replied, smirking. “Now, listen to me and stop asking questions. If the photos you took had been fake, Miss Zandergoth would have committed fraud. But we examined the photos and found them to be authentic. The fact that time travel is now a reality has very serious national security implications. For example, after she dies—and as you know, she will die soon—the Board could fall into the hands of people who would commit evil acts. They could travel through time and tamper with the historical record. Do you see what I mean? The ramifications of this are obvious and could be disastrous for our country.”
“Where is Miss Z right now?” asked Isabel.
“She is safe,” said Ms. Gunner. “She’s in a place where she can’t hurt herself, or anyone else.”
“Where?” asked David.
“She is in good hands,” Ms. Gunner replied, dodging the question. “In a hospital. Receiving the best medical care.”
“What hospital?” asked Julia.
“I can’t tell you that.”
“So in other words, you’re punishing her?” said David. “You stole her technology and you’re keeping her quiet.”
“It’s not punishment, and we didn’t steal anything,” said Ms. Gunner. “For the sake of national security, we feel that we need to control this powerful technology. Sometimes, when people know they’re at the end of their lives and have nothing to lose, they do foolish, dangerous things.”
“Where’s the Board?” asked Luke.
“It is in our possession.”
“Miss Z owns that technology,” said David. “She spent millions of dollars developing it. You can’t just take it.”
Ms. Gunner sighed and shook her head. Kids. So naive.
“To protect our national security,” she told them, “we can do anything we want. I assure you, everything was done strictly by the letter of the law.”
“I don’t like the sound of this,” Luke said, folding his arms across his chest.
“Let me ask you a question,” said Ms. Gunner. “Do you have any idea how Miss Zandergoth made all her money?”
“She started that online dating service,” said Julia. “Findamate.”
“Right,” said Ms. Gunner. “And do you know why it was more successful than any other dating service? Because she hacked into the computer network at the NSA—the National Security Agency—to gather personal data on everyone in America.”
“I didn’t know that,” said Isabel.
“Miss Zandergoth is not so innocent,” said Ms. Gunner. “She’s a hacker, no different from a teenage kid who plants a virus to disrupt a computer network or a country that tries to influence an election. And let me tell you, the United States government doesn’t like it when people hack into government computers.”
“So you just want to get back at Miss Z?” asked David. “Why don’t you leave her alone? She never hurt anybody by hacking those computers.”
“She helped people,” added Isabel.
“And she has ALS,” said Julia. “It’s incurable. She doesn’t have long to live.”
“I know that,” said Ms. Gunner. “At NOYB, we do not do things out of spite. Our concern is the health of our national security, not the health of one individual.”
“Okay, then get to the point,” said Luke, whose attention was starting to wander. “Why are we here?”
“You traveled back in time,” Ms. Gunner said. “You actually witnessed Abraham Lincoln giving the Gettysburg Address. You witnessed the Titanic as it was sinking. You witnessed Mount Vesuvius as it was erupting.”
“We did,” said Isabel.
Ms. Gunner paused for a moment to imagine those things. There was just a hint of wonder in her eyes.
“NOYB wants to send you on a mission,” she said.
“What?” asked Luke. “You want us to go on a mission for you?”
“What are you gonna do,” asked David, “send us back in time to kill Hitler or something?”
“We would never ask children to assassinate anyone,” said Ms. Gunner. “Not even Hitler.”
“How about sending us on an important mission?” suggested David. “Like, send us back to 1963 to find out who really shot President Kennedy.”
“We already know who really shot JFK,” Ms. Gunner said matter-of-factly.
“Who?” all the kids asked.
“That’s none of your business.”
“Why did you choose us?” asked Isabel. “You could send anybody on a mission.”
“There are a number of reasons why we’ve chosen you four,” Ms. Gunner told them. “You have experience at this. You’ve done it three times now. You know how the Board works, and you know what to expect. We don’t have to train you. Plus, by sending you on a mission, we can keep the circle of people who know about this technology as small as possible. People tend to gab to their friends, as you are well aware.”
“Wait a minute,” Luke said. “Miss Z was nice to us. She invited us to help her. You basically kidnapped us. Why should we play ball with you?”
“That’s what I was thinking,” David agreed. “What’s in it for us?”
“Yeah, why should we cooperate with you?” asked Julia. “We could go to the press and blow the whistle on your whole operation if we want to.”
“What are you going to do if we don’t cooperate,” asked Luke, “throw us in jail?”
Ms. Gunner sat back in her chair for a moment. Working with kids was new to her. She enjoyed their innocence.
“We prefer to use rewards rather than punishments,” she told them. “It’s more effective. You would be amazed to see what a rat in a maze will do to earn a reward.”
“We’re not rats,” said David.
“Are you talking about a cash reward?” asked Luke. “How much money are we talking about?”
“There’s no cash reward,” said Ms. Gunner. “And I’ll admit it, I’m not going to be as nice to you as Miss Zandergoth was. But I can offer you a tangible award.”
“What does ‘tangible’ mean?” asked Luke.
“It means that five years from now, when you’re ready, we can get each of you into the college of your choice,” said Ms. Gunner. “You won’t have to fill out any applications or write any essays. Oh, and there will be no tuition. You’ll get a free ride to college.”
“You can do that?” Isabel asked, her eyes open wide.
“Like that,” Ms. Gunner said, snapping her fingers. “That is, we can do it if you complete the mission. If the mission is not completed, you receive nothing, of course.”
Isabel was thrilled beyond words. She knew that a four-year degree at a good college would cost in the neighborhood of $250,000 or more. Her parents didn’t have that kind of money. They would have to take out loans and she would have to fight to earn scholarships to pay for college.
David had been hoping that he might qualify for an athletic scholarship someday. But he realized college sports are very competitive, and only the best of the best get scholarships. A free ride would be fantastic.
Julia was not overly impressed by Ms. Gunner’s offer. She figured that she would get into college anyway. Her parents had both gone to Ivy League schools. They donated a ton of money to their schools, and a building at Princeton had their name on it. So she would most likely get into college easily, and her parents would pay the tuition.
“What if I don’t want to go to college?” Luke asked. “Maybe I want to become a mechanic and fix cars. You don’t need to go to college to do that.”
“I understand,” said Ms. Gunner. “College isn’t for everybody. You’re free to leave right now if you choose, Luke. I bel
ieve Julia, David, and Isabel will be sufficient for the mission we have in mind. They can change their name to the Flashback Three.”
“No!” shouted Julia, David, and Isabel.
“We need you, dude!” David told Luke. “You and me are a team. We might have to do some serious butt kicking again. Like we did in Gettysburg and Pompeii, remember?”
Luke smiled. He remembered when he and David had beaten up John Wilkes Booth and the time they’d fought as gladiators. He had almost become addicted to the pure exhilaration of time travel. It was like the feeling you get from winning a big game or landing a sick trick on your skateboard. He wanted to feel that feeling again. And he liked being part of the group.
“Okay, okay, I’m with you,” he agreed. “What’s the mission?”
“Let me stress this one more time,” said Ms. Gunner. “If you tell anyone that you are working with us, we can make life very difficult for you. For starters, we’ll spread the rumor that you are insane. Usually, when we spread the word that somebody is insane, it tends to drive them insane, which only proves us right. We’re very good at this, believe me. We can destroy you. Do you all swear to keep this to yourselves?”
“But my mother always tells me—” Isabel started to say, but Julia silenced her with a look.
“We swear,” agreed the Flashback Four. “What’s the mission?”
Ms. Gunner paused until she was sure she had their full attention.
“Tell me,” she said, “what do you think of when I say the name Alexander Hamilton?”
CHAPTER 6
A MYSTERY OF HISTORY
AFTER SAYING THE WORDS ALEXANDER HAMILTON, Ms. Gunner looked from Isabel’s face to Julia’s face to David’s face to Luke’s face. Nothing. Blank stares.
“Never heard of him,” David said.
“Didn’t he play for the Cubs a few years ago?” asked Luke.
“Isn’t he a British fashion designer?” guessed Julia. “No, that’s Alexander McQueen.”
“Wasn’t Alexander McQueen in the original version of that movie The Magnificent Seven?” asked Isabel. “My mom loved him.”
“That was Steve McQueen,” Luke told her.
Ms. Gunner rubbed her forehead with her fingers. This wasn’t going to be as easy as she’d expected.
“Don’t they teach you kids anything in school these days?” she asked. “Alexander Hamilton was one of our nation’s most famous Founding Fathers. He was the first secretary of the Treasury. He was George Washington’s aide. He started the national bank.”
“Oh yeah!” said Isabel, brightening.
“That was my next guess,” said Luke, clearly lying.
“Was he a president?” asked Julia.
“No!” exclaimed Ms. Gunner. “Didn’t any of you see that musical Hamilton?”
“The tickets are really expensive,” Isabel replied.
In the corner of the room was a small table. Ms. Gunner took a curled-up poster out of her briefcase and unrolled it on the table. She clicked on the desk lamp so the kids could see it better.
“Does this mean anything to you?” she asked.
The Flashback Four gathered around the table to look at the drawing.
“It’s one guy shooting some other guy,” said Luke.
“It’s not just two random guys,” Ms. Gunner explained. “This is one of the most famous events in American history. It happened in 1804. That’s Alexander Hamilton on the right getting hit, and on the left is Aaron Burr, the guy who just shot him.”
“I never heard of Aaron Burr,” said David. “Who’s he?”
“Aaron Burr was the third vice president of the United States,” Ms. Gunner told him. “He served under Thomas Jefferson.”
“Wait a minute,” David said. “You’re telling me that the vice president of the United States shot somebody . . . while he was the vice president?”
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you,” Ms. Gunner replied.
To the reader: Actually, that would not be the last time the vice president of the United States shot somebody. In 2006, Vice President Dick Cheney shot a friend of his while they were on a hunting trip. But that’s a story for another day. Sorry for the interruption.
“You gotta be kidding me,” David said, shaking his head.
“We covered that in social studies,” Isabel said. “I forgot.”
“Didn’t cover it at my school,” said Julia.
“Maybe I was absent that day,” said Luke.
Actually, Luke was not absent that day. He just wasn’t paying attention.
“Wow, and I thought politics was nasty today,” David said. “At least politicians don’t go around shooting each other.”
“Where did this happen—in Washington?” asked Isabel, looking at the drawing closely.
“No, in New Jersey,” Ms. Gunner told her. “The town of Weehawken. On the shore of the Hudson River, just across from Manhattan. The United States of America was just sixteen years old in 1804. A teenager, you might say. Hamilton and Burr had hated each other almost since the Constitution was ratified in 1788. Finally, Burr got so mad that he challenged Hamilton to a duel.”
“A gunfight?” asked Isabel. “That was legal? Two people could just have a disagreement and settle it by shooting at each other? That’s insane!”
“It was insane,” said Ms. Gunner. “And no, it wasn’t legal. But people had duels anyway. That’s one of the ways they settled disputes in those days.”
“Why did Hamilton and Burr hate each other so much?” asked David.
“It’s a long story,” Ms. Gunner replied. “You can look it up sometime if you want to. But you can complete this mission without knowing all the particulars.”
“Okay, so the mission is obvious,” said Luke. “You want us to go back to 1804, stop the duel, and save Hamilton’s life, right?”
“Wrong,” said Ms. Gunner. “We don’t believe in interfering with the natural course of history.”
“So you want us to go back to 1804 and take a picture of the duel?” guessed Isabel.
“No, I don’t want you to do that, either,” replied Ms. Gunner.
“Then what do you want us to do?” asked David. “What’s the mission?”
“I want you to go back to 1804 and shoot a video of the duel.”
“A video?” asked Luke. “Why?”
Ms. Gunner rolled up the drawing again and put it back in her briefcase.
“Nobody knows exactly what happened that morning in Weehawken,” she explained. “All we know for sure is that Burr shot Hamilton, and Hamilton died the next day. But did Hamilton shoot at all? Did he shoot at Burr and miss? We don’t know. And if Hamilton did take a shot, did his gun go off after he was hit? Or maybe he missed on purpose. And if both men fired, who fired first? How much time elapsed between shots? There’s so much we don’t know about this duel. It’s one of those mysteries of history. A still picture will not tell us exactly what happened that morning. Only a video will.”
“I don’t get it,” Luke said, shaking his head. “What does it matter who fired first or exactly what happened that morning? It was in 1804. That’s over two hundred years ago. At this point, who cares?”
“A lot of people care,” said Ms. Gunner. “Historians care, and history cares. Truth matters. We want to set the record straight so we can teach the truth. Second, this is an experiment. If you’re successful shooting this video, maybe we’ll send you on a more challenging mission next time.”
“To kill Hitler?” David asked. “We can prevent the Holocaust!”
“Maybe Hitler,” replied Ms. Gunner. “Maybe Charles Manson or Jack the Ripper.”
“Wait a minute,” Julia said. “I thought you didn’t want to interfere with history.”
“In the case of the Burr-Hamilton duel, that’s true,” said Ms. Gunner. “But there are a lot of very bad guys throughout history whose criminal careers we would love to sort of, uh, nip in the bud, shall we say. We could save countless lives. I think tha
t would be a good reason to interfere with history, don’t you?”
“What about the butterfly effect?” asked Isabel. “You know, a butterfly could flap its wings in California and change the course of a tornado in Kansas. What if we killed Hitler and because of that, years later, like, smallpox wipes out America?”
“That’s just crazy,” David told Isabel.
“We don’t put much stock in the butterfly effect,” Ms. Gunner told the kids. “I’d be willing to take my chances that getting rid of a mass murderer before he kills his first victim will lead to a positive outcome. But let’s focus on Hamilton and Burr right now.”
“I have a question,” Julia asked. “Aaron Burr won the duel, right? So he obviously survived.”
“That’s right,” said Ms. Gunner. “He lived more than thirty years after the duel.”
“Well, I want a free ride to college,” Julia said, “but why is it necessary for us to go on this mission? If Burr survived, he must have known exactly what happened in the duel. He knew if he shot first, and all that other stuff. Didn’t he tell anybody afterward?”
“Good question,” said Ms. Gunner. “Burr said that Hamilton shot first. But Burr was a known liar. It was in his interest for Hamilton to have shot first. That way he could say he shot Hamilton in self-defense. If Burr had shot first, he would have been the aggressor. He could have been accused of committing murder.”
“Murder?” Isabel shouted. “It was a duel! Somebody was going to get shot!”
“Not necessarily,” said Ms. Gunner. “Many duels ended with nobody getting hurt. Dueling was sort of a dance that men did with each other to defend their honor. It had a certain etiquette to it.”
“Etiquette?” the kids all said. It’s hard to wrap one’s mind around the weird customs and traditions of the past.
“So there was no other witness to the duel besides Aaron Burr?” asked David.
“In fact, there were two other witnesses,” Ms. Gunner replied.
“Well, if there were witnesses,” said David, “they should have been able to see what happened and tell the world about it.”
