by Ann Aguirre
“Even still, I phoned him to let him know where I was,” Joshua said. “I’ll put in a request for you. She must be terribly worried.”
“She’s so sad about Nicholas that she probably hasn’t even noticed I’m gone,” Lucy said.
“Remember what you said about parents knowing a few moments ago? Right now she doesn’t know and that’s bound to be driving her more crazy,” he said.
Lucy didn’t say anything and they sat in silence under a blanket of stars. He started the car back up and continued down the road.
“Where are you taking me anyway?” she asked. “We appear to be in the middle of nowhere. Should I call my mother now?”
His lip twisted up. “You’re safe with me, and it’s a surprise.”
“As long as you aren’t taking me off to be murdered.” She tried to keep her face straight but the twitch of her lips gave her away.
“I said it was a surprise,” Joshua said. “I suppose you’ll have to wait and see.”
But she didn’t have to wait long, and as soon as the sign loomed up over the horizon, he dared another glance at her.
“The Hollywood Canteen?” Lucy’s eyes were as round as silver dollars and the stars overhead seemed to dance in them.
“Absolutely,” he said. It wasn’t that he wanted to impress her exactly, but he guessed that a girl from small-town Illinois might think it was swell to see movie stars. Joshua had seen them his whole life. He hadn’t bothered to tell her that he’d spent a good portion of his formative years on back lots. It wasn’t something he liked to talk about if he could help it.
A polished and obviously physically fit man greeted them at the door. “Tickets?”
“I’ll be on the list,” Joshua said.
The man gave him a disbelieving look but retrieved a small card. “Your name?”
“Joshua O’Donnell.”
“Yes, sir,” the man said, stepping aside immediately. “This way, please.”
“Were you a movie star before you decided to take over the world?” Lucy whispered as they entered the swinging canteen.
It had been a country bar before a group of Hollywood elites had hatched their plan to open a canteen for soldiers. No one had bothered to update it to something more posh, so the walls were still painted with cartoonish Western scenes. Long, rustic beams lined the ceilings, in stark contrast to the ten-piece band playing on the stage and the celebrities sprinkled throughout the joint. It wasn’t the kind of place starlets would normally flock to, but it wasn’t for them—it was for enlisted men, and it was the best way showbiz could find to help, even if it was only giving them a good time before they left to die on foreign soil.
“No,” Joshua said with a laugh, checking his fedora. The girl at the counter had ringlets of spun gold that hung perfectly to her shoulders and waved over her forehead. She was really much too pretty to be a coat-check girl. Joshua caught Lucy staring at her.
“Is she an actress?” Lucy asked.
“She’d like to be,” Joshua said. “She’s clearly been groomed for it, but the American people have less patience for new faces these days. They want their favorites, to keep their minds off the war.”
“Are you sure you aren’t an actor?” Lucy asked, her eyes narrowing. “You seem to know a lot about show business.”
“I’m not an actor,” Joshua said as a hostess took them to one of the best tables in the house. “But my father is.”
“Wait!” Lucy shrieked. “Is your father Mickey O’Donnell?”
“The one and only,” Joshua said. Now that she’d found out, he wished she hadn’t. Any girl would want a piece of the fortune now that his father had begun producing films as well. There was even talk of making him head of MGM, but Joshua thought it was unlikely given his father’s volatile temper.
“I saw one of his movies,” she said. “And I’ve seen him in the gossip rags.”
“Whatever you read isn’t true. He’d want me to tell you that.”
“Is any of it true?” she asked Joshua.
“Almost all of it, but actors are liars and they expect their children to be as well,” he told her. “Lying is a family business in Hollywood.”
“It’s really too bad you don’t get along,” Lucy said. Her eyes darted around the room and she gasped, pointing out celebrities serving tables and dancing with soldiers. There was no more mention of Joshua’s father, which Joshua found refreshing. She’d only seen one of his movies, after all, and, of course, she’d read about him. But she didn’t seem interested past that.
“Do you want to dance?” he asked her.
“I don’t really. I haven’t ever … I don’t dance.” She stumbled over the words. “You should ask someone else.”
Joshua felt a sharp snap in his heart as though it had broken and mended itself in a split second. He couldn’t explain it. He simply knew he wanted to hold her, so he sidestepped her excuse and extended his hand. Their eyes met and she took the proffered hand without further protest, allowing him to sweep her onto the floor. They waltzed next to Bob Hope and later Joshua taught her how to jitterbug.
“You told me that you didn’t dance,” he admonished her as they stepped outside for air.
“I don’t. I think I only could because you were here.”
Joshua caught her in his arms and pulled her roughly to him. Lucy’s face glowed in the moonlight. There was a pretty color in her cheeks, rose washed to silver in the dim night.
“Has anyone kissed you before, Lucy Price?” Joshua asked.
She shook her head, causing a single curl to loosen and fall across her brow. He brushed it away, trailing his fingers down her face and cupping her chin in his hand.
“May I kiss you?” he whispered. An eternity stretched between them before she said the word he needed to hear.
“Yes.” She barely managed to push the word past her lips before his mouth was on hers. The kiss consumed her so fully that her body relaxed, nearly going limp in his arms, and she swayed just a little as he held her steady.
Lucy had never kissed a boy before. The war had broken out around the time they started to interest her, and while her friends listened with dreamy eyes to schoolboy plans for guts and glory, Lucy didn’t have the stomach for it. But now with Joshua’s lips pressed hot to hers she crumpled against him, thoughts of the dead and the dying slipping as far away as the stars twinkling overhead. His arm wrapped more tightly around her waist, and she fell further into the moment until there was only the roar of her pulse urging the kiss on. When he broke away, he dropped his forehead against hers and they stared into each other’s eyes, both knowing a line had been crossed.
But neither caring.
“We should get back to the base,” he said. He stepped away from her and looked toward Lucas’s car.
She knew he was right, although she wanted to stay here forever. The only thing that waited back on base were tests and scientists, needles and examinations. But Lucy looped her arm through his, allowing him to lead her to the car. It would be over soon. The war would be over and they would be free, but that all seemed too far away tonight when her life felt like it was finally beginning.
* * *
Patton lounged in his chair as Dr. Lucas poured two bourbons and handed one to him. The man’s office was small and spare, nothing like the places where Patton did business. It was a scientist’s lair, stuffed with so many books and papers that there was no room for decorations or furniture beyond the two chairs and table Lucas used to do his research.
“Then you’ve found exactly what I thought?” Patton asked, wishing to clarify the good news Lucas had just given him.
“I believe so.” The doctor’s forehead creased as he sipped his drink. He clearly wasn’t as thrilled at the unexpected development. “The implications of the findings are quite disturbing.”
“I would think a man who had discovered the key to immortality might feel some pride.” Patton chuckled at the dumbfounded expression on Lucas’s face.
Patton set his glass on the table and chose his words carefully. It was important that he not sound threatening. “The Cypress Project needs more money. I have that money, and so do many of my associates. We’ve all done our bit for our country at this point, and more than a few of us are wondering how far you plan to drain our piggy banks to get this off the ground.”
“I’m certain the investors understand that what they are doing—”
“The investors are quite simply that: investors. Businessmen don’t get into business to help people out. We expect remuneration.”
“And the War Department has already informed you that your places in Arras are secure.”
“We don’t just want places in Arras,” Patton said. “This new world of yours is going to need leaders, and I can only speak for myself, but I’ll be happy to step up in return for some special considerations.”
Lucas pulled his glasses from his nose and ran a hand over his tired eyes. “Even without the ethical considerations, it could be years before technology enables us to accomplish what you’re asking.”
“And we will have years, Dr. Lucas,” Patton reminded him. “Thanks to your machines, we’ll be able to control time.”
Patton sensed this line of argument was getting him nowhere. He needed to make the man see the possibility before him. “Think of what you can do with that time. How much you can accomplish. All it will take is a few words from you and some contracts with my lawyers. I can promise you that I won’t be the only one who reaps the benefits of your discovery.”
“My unintentional discovery,” Lucas said. “And how can you promise me anything?”
“This administration is desperate to see the war end, as is most of the world. They’d promise a man anything if he could put a stop to it, and with my money I’m the man who can pay for that solution.”
“I’m not certain you’re wealthy enough for that.”
“I’ve spoken with others. Hearst. Kincaid. They’re all in as long as you continue the research privately. There’s no need to involve the War Department.”
“Money won’t do you much good once the exodus is over. The administration plans to initiate a socialist structure while Arras is established. Everyone will have to work together—”
“And they will.” Patton stopped him. “But until then, money can buy me power. You won’t be left out in the cold, Lucas. We’ll take care of you as long as you take care of us.”
His companion opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated and clamped it shut again. Patton almost had him.
“We’ll live forever,” Patton promised. “Think of that.”
“All of us?”
“The fortunate few,” Patton said in a measured voice.
“And you expect people to go along with that? A good portion of Arras’s population is going to be American, Mr. Patton. I can’t imagine they’ll take too kindly to a few men running the show in perpetuity.”
“You’re thinking of this too clinically,” Patton said. “It’s simple with a bit of creativity. Our names, the names of these ‘few men,’ will die and we’ll be reborn as new men. The people won’t know their leaders haven’t changed. Given your experiments with alterations, I hardly think it will be difficult to smooth this over. And we’ll have plenty of time to handle the arrangements.”
“It strikes me that might be more a curse than a blessing.”
“As my friend Kincaid would say, ‘To be or not to be.’ Are you ready to watch the world destroy itself? Because this war will spread. My sources expect it won’t be long until it crosses the Atlantic, and then where will we find the solution when we’re hunkered down in bomb shelters?” It was a carefully chosen lie. His sources thought nothing of the sort. Hitler seemed intent on Western Europe at the moment, but it could happen, which Patton knew, and which gave him the ability to sell it to Lucas. “In Arras you’ll have time to eradicate disease and hunger. We will lift humanity up to the next stage of evolution. These boys you’ve been testing could be more important than doctors someday. Imagine being able to alter the foundational blocks of biology.”
A gleam was growing in Lucas’s eyes as Patton continued his speech, and soon the doctor began to nod in agreement with the promises.
“Perhaps I should send a telegram to Albert,” Lucas suggested. “If anyone could foresee—”
“You’ve said yourself that the most important thing is to end this war. Let’s focus on that for now,” Patton said. He rose from his chair and retrieved his fedora. “I’ll be in touch. I only ask you to keep this between us for now, and I’ll see that you get what you need for the first stage.”
He exited the room, but not before he saw Lucas begin to scribble furiously in the file. He would have to return for it later. For now he had more important things to do. One phone call and he’d be in charge of this alterations department. Then he would see what they could really do. Lucas’s initial notes had been very promising.
And after that was final, he’d handle Lucas. He’d bought him off for the moment, but he couldn’t be certain that would last long. The doctor was burdened with a conscience unsuited to ambition or science. He’d have to find someone else more flexible with his so-called ethics. Patton knew that wouldn’t be hard. He’d never had difficulty finding people willing to sell their soul before.
* * *
Lucas wrote with such speed that his hand cramped, but he ignored it. He had to reach Albert immediately, but it was difficult to get a line into Nevada at the moment.
Men like Patton were used to getting what they wanted and Lucas hadn’t given it to him. Patton had some fair points. Things Lucas might have considered if he’d been given the time, but this world wasn’t Arras. There was a war on, men were dying, and it would be all too easy for Patton to buy someone off. A senator, or a general, or even one of Lucas’s own men.
Patton displays a near-psychopathic disregard for the general population, imagining the alteration technology will be the proverbial fountain of youth. His clear case of megalomania suggests he will try to buy this technology to further his own agenda. It’s recommended that we sever our business relationships with Mr. Patton. We cannot wait for a moment of kairos for this, we must seek resolution as swiftly as possible before it is too late.
Lucas sank against his chair and stared at the letter, remembering for a split second the wayward message sent by Friar Lawrence to Romeo, but this was not a love story and more than two lives hung in the balance. He’d take it there himself in the morning.
* * *
The base was quiet when they returned, but Joshua knew the night guards would make a note of what time they’d come in and pass it up the chain. He hadn’t actually told Lucas he was taking Lucy with him and he was pretty sure his mentor wouldn’t have approved of him absconding with their prize candidate for the Cypress Project. But the real reason he wished he could avoid word of their date spreading was because he wanted to keep it himself. It was their secret sealed with a kiss.
Thinking of the kiss distracted him and he glanced over at her. She shifted her long, stockinged legs and smiled at him. He wanted to kiss her again, but he kept his hands on the wheel and parked the car. They were back on base and he needed to think with his head instead of with the other parts of his anatomy vying to run the show.
“Joshua,” Lucy said in a quiet voice when he shut off the engine.
He turned toward her, leaning in to kiss her again before he could stop himself. She giggled and pulled back.
“I have a question for you.”
“Shoot,” he said, a little disappointed that she’d fended him off.
“What are they testing me for? What do they plan to do?”
He could lie and tell her he didn’t know, that he didn’t have the clearance, which would technically be true. But Joshua did know because he was a Hollywood kid and he’d learned a long time ago that nobody in business t
alked straight. To get the real story, you had to listen to the unspoken lines between sentences and to the conversations not meant for your ears, and Joshua hadn’t been able to help himself. Some of it he’d guessed from the equations and models he’d helped Lucas with, but scientists also loved to talk to themselves as they worked through complex problems. And no one had a temper like a pissed-off researcher. One good rant could spill all the beans.
So he knew exactly what she wanted to know, but it wasn’t going to be easy to explain. It all sounded so crazy, even after everything he’d seen. Lucy had managed to touch the quantum threads they’d given her. She’d even affected them, but he doubted that would be enough to make her believe him.
“It’s better if I show you,” he said.
Because of the success earlier in the day, the labs were dead now. The breakthrough had been enough to warrant Lucas giving everyone the night off. Joshua thought Lucas might have stuck around himself; he’d seemed preoccupied, but then the man was never relaxed. To Joshua’s relief, though, even Lucas’s office lights were off.
Every man and woman on Lucas’s team had signed a contract stating that they wouldn’t leave so much as a handkerchief lying around, but Lucas himself kept files in his office. Files that Joshua had access to. He led Lucy through the dark, stopping at the office door to dig around for the key. It would have felt like a breach of trust if it had been anyone but Lucy he was showing the information to. She was directly involved with this project and she had the right to know what they were going to ask of her. The lock clicked open, and he went in first, fumbling for the lamp. But when he flipped the switch and light flooded the room, he wished he hadn’t come.
Lucy’s scream barely registered. He couldn’t tear his eyes from the body of his mentor collapsed across his desk. The back of his head was missing, leaving behind a thick ooze of blood that swirled black and red. Hideous gray clumps were splattered on the chair behind him.
“Did he…” Lucy’s voice trailed away, and Joshua was grateful. He couldn’t believe Lucas would do this. He did not want to believe it. Not when he was so close.
