State of Time: Beginnings Series Book 6

by Jacqueline Druga

  “You mean into this morning?” Ellen corrected.

  “Do that a lot?” Rev. Bob asked.

  “Lately,” Ellen answered, “And I suppose with quarantine we need the practice.”

  Rev. Bob caught it. He guessed he wasn’t supposed to but he saw the wink Dean had given Ellen. “I’m here for my test.”

  Dean held up a folder. “Just gathering your things. You can head to room three.”

  Rev. Bob nodded, lifted his hand in a wave, and headed to the examining rooms. Dean and Ellen stayed on his mind during the walk. Perhaps he was putting more into what he saw but all Rev. Bob kept thinking about was how he kept dismissing Frank. He vowed as soon as he was done eating his eggs, he would dig up the list Frank had made him a few days earlier. The one Rev Bob laughed at, ridiculed, and made him call Frank an incurable paranoid possessor. But if his memory served him correctly, that list wasn’t compiled of jealous rantings. Instead it was compiled of valid points Rev. Bob never heard Frank trying to make.

  ^^^^

  Cleveland, Ohio

  The bitter cold brought in from the lake did not bother Robbie as much as the ice that formed on just about everything in Cleveland. The interstate was bad enough to travel without the ice that lay inches above the overgrown road. On foot was how they had to get to the lab that lay on the outskirts of the major metropolis. They were making their way through the frigid city whose layer of thin white made it look deader than any place Robbie and his crew had ever gone.

  It was worse than any jungle Robbie had navigated himself through. The map of Cleveland was a mere joke. Instinct and gut feeling led Robbie to the research center. The giant ‘B’ of the Bowen name was tilted and its blue coloring cracked and faded. They found the cryo-lab. It lay in the third sub-basement level. Open doors were a path to it. Doors that were probably left open by Chester not that long before.

  “Check out every single piece of paper. Read it, save it,” Robbie ordered out, stepping over the still decomposing bodies that had defrosted months earlier. Dried blood and vomit and part of the floor showed evidence of the plague they suffered--late--but by their own hands. A circle of justice, Robbie thought as he looked at those who suffered and died faster than they should have. “Let’s do this quickly, gentlemen. Scavenge this place. We have Chester’s house to find. And I have sight-seeing I want to get in.”

  Throwing his rifle behind him as it hung over his shoulder, Robbie found a seat at a desk that sat just outside the cryo-glass wall. A notebook, dusty and covered with bloodied finger prints set on top of it. Finding his home there, Robbie began to read and search out the desk.

  ^^^^

  Former Quantico Marine Headquarters

  They weren’t one hundred percent readable but the information conveyed was clear enough. Behind his desk, George slowly sifted through the pile of papers. The words on some were sideways and George had to tilt his head as he read over every piece.

  Steward’s hand pointed down to a letter as he stood behind George. “This is the best that can be done. Dean and Ellen were in the mobile all night.”

  George adjusted his glasses. “Where did the fax machine come from?”

  “A . . . Cole brought back a case of them from a run.”

  George nodded. “I remember that. I was just afraid the fax in history was being used.”

  “Sir? They have no phones. Why would History have a fax?”

  “Oh, that annoying anal woman.” George grumbled. “These are just notes.” George shuffled through the next one. “Aside from the fact, I can’t make heads or tail out of . . . whoa.” he lifted a page high.

  “That was the particular one that caught my attention.”

  “Steward?” George shifted his eyes to look at his right hand man. “You’re not gonna tell me you were reading my faxes before me, are you?”

  “No.” Steward stood up straight. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Just caught the letter’s first line, that’s it. No more.”

  “Right.” George read some more. “Oh my God.” He moved to the next page. “Oh my God. How was this found?”

  “Seems our Dr. Hayes, in all his hastiness of getting ready for the future trip, failed to lock anything up in the mobile lab including his personal file box. That was in with his . . .” Steward snickered. “Birth certificate, marriage license, and such. I thought it was brilliant of our person to think of looking in there.”

  “Any idiot would know if Dr. Hayes brought his personal file box to the mobile lab, there’s something in it. The original copy of these letters was returned?”

  “Yes. And I’m sure unmissed,” Steward responded.

  George read some of the letter out loud. “Bring back Dr. Dean Hayes. He could very well be your, the future of Beginnings, only hope.” He peered up. “Dean had died. They used the machine to bring him back to try to stop this virus. The antidote is in the case which definitely confirms we started it.”

  “Is the virus in the case?”

  “Can’t be. Not if they’re going into the future to get it. And look . . .” George showed Steward the letter. “They blackened out the Quantum Regressionator sequence. Godrichson’s an asshole.” He gathered up the faxes. “Get Davidson down from D.C. today. He’s our theorist. I want to talk to him.”

  “I’ll take care of that.” Steward nodded and walked to the door. He stopped with a snap of his finger and turned around. “Just wanted to tell you, I sent a truck up to Vermont for our bio man, Dr. Radovich. Weather permitting, he should be here late tomorrow.”

  “Good,” George said. “I need him to work on this virus. Whatever we get Beginnings with obviously does the trick.” He leaned back in the chair. “The thing is, they know it’s coming. We have to figure a way to hit them in a manner they won’t see until it arrives and since we have a date . . .” George tapped his hand on the pile of faxes. “We have to hit them long before they expect.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Beginnings, Montana

  “No, no, no.” Dean waved his hand in the air as he stood in explanation mode before Ellen and Henry in the mobile lab. “Henry won’t have to be the logisticalizer. We’re going to the future. He can actually assist in getting what we need.”

  Ellen finally understood. “So he’ll do the air samples by the lab and the samples nearer to town?”

  “Exactly,” Dean said. “That way you and I can collect what notes and blood and tissue samples we need. But enough of it. Since we’re setting our destination for night and one day after Jason’s letter, things should be quiet in town and allot us the time to get what we need.”

  “Hopefully the samples we get aren’t of a mutated strain that the antidote doesn’t touch.” Ellen pointed out.

  “We’ll keep our fingers crossed.” Dean reviewed his list. “Next, I want to run a test of the radio and headsets through the bio suits. Check to see if we can communicate with each other because that is so vital.”

  Seriously, but like she was still in school, Ellen raised her hand, “When we return is our first plan of action to see if the antidote is present in the vials?”

  “Most definitely. It’ll make it easier for us to work with the virus if there isn’t a threat of catching it.” Dean replied. “Henry. You’re being quiet. Do you have any questions?”

  Henry looked up. “Um . . . no.” He shook his head. “Yes. But I feel really dumb since it has nothing to do with all this medical stuff. O.K., yeah it does, but . . .”

  “Henry,” Dean snickered. “What’s your question?”

  “O.K. I feel stupid. But . . . you, me, Ellen. Right? Did we just already change the history because in Jason’s letter, Johnny is immune or rather got a hold of the antidote as well?”

  Closing his eyes, Dean gave a slow nod of his head. “Yes. But we aren’t exempting Johnny from his destiny.” He saw another look of confusion on Henry’s face. “Those vials are not small. They are by my guess, more than three inoculations of the serum. So, we will give one to Johnny if it’s
in there.”

  Ellen had to question that. “Why Johnny? We already changed the future by bringing you back. So why stick to the guns of it? I’m not meaning to sound cold but we have other options.” She gave a flick of her eyebrows.

  Henry interjected, “The future is not etched in stone, Dean. This is very vital. Hey, wait if it’s so vital, why waste it on me? Why not get Johnny to go and give him the serum along with someone else.”

  Ellen whined. “No, Henry. I want you to go.”

  “What value am I?” Henry asked. “I don’t know anything medical and . . .”

  “You heard Jason. He wants you on every time trip regardless. You will always be the constant, the one who knows the truth. And secondly . . . why Johnny? Who else? Jason? Andrea? Do those two know any more than Johnny about the physics of viruses? No. I taught Johnny myself and though a novice, he knows. Besides, personally . . .” Dean smiled, “Andrea and her praying? Do you really want to be quarantined with Andrea?”

  Henry pointed to Dean. “He’s got a point, El.” After getting a ‘thank you’ look from Dean. Henry had another question. “Dean? What’s it gonna be like when we go. Will there be a virus?”

  “Hopefully not,” Dean exhaled. “We’re going to the future from this point in time. Jason’s letter was written from a future without me. So knowing the way I am, if we go and there still is a virus, I would have done a hell of a lot of work, notes, samples and such. We’ll bring supplies to copy and possibly steal what I did. My work in the future will be our ground work of today. So knowing that . . .” Dean paused when he saw Henry writing. “What are you doing?”

  “Jotting that quote down.” Henry gave a thumbs up. “Good job.”

  Dean grumbled. “I think . . . I think we’ve gone through this enough.” He started to gather up his notes. “Why don’t we go over to the trailer and get our things situated there.”

  Henry stood up with a stretch. “Good idea.”

  Ellen stood as well. Turning she stopped and drew up a quirky look as she glanced at the huge picture-type window and walked to it. “Dean.” She peered out seeing just a hint of the center of town in the distance. “I feel like we’re going to be the people in the plastic bubble, with this window.”

  “Yeah, we will feel that way. We’ll be the entertainment for anyone who wants to come up and watch.” Dean shut off the computer.

  Henry hesitated in his leaving the lab. “They won’t come up and watch if the weather gets as bad as I expect it.”

  “Henry?” Dean had question to his voice. “I’m curious. How do you know so much about the weather?”

  “My secret tell-tale signs,” Henry answered.

  “Which are?” Dean asked.

  Ellen shook her head with a chuckle. “Dean, they wouldn’t be a secret if he told.”

  “Do you know them?” Dean asked Ellen.

  “Oh, sure.”

  “Then it’s not a secret.” Dean looked back at Henry who still stood by the door that led to the trailer. “Tell me.”

  “All right,” Henry said. “You’re a doctor so you may appreciate this. It’s a combination of theory, common sense, and body signs.”

  Dean laughed. “What?”

  “Yes. See, when my monthly cycle symptoms intensify, it signals a change in weather. More sever means a worsening of weather conditions, possibly drastic. Decreasing or none for a month means reversed weather patterns. But…” Henry held up a explaining finger. “If my symptoms arrive early and are severe . . .” He whistled. “Watch out. There’s trouble.” He opened the mobile’s side door. “You guys coming.”

  Ellen smiled and hurried to catch up. “Right behind you. Dean?”

  “Wait.” Dean held up his hand then hurried to catch up to the pair.

  “Dean, that’s all there is to explain. Geez. And you call yourself a scientist.” Henry stepped through first into the newly attached three foot corridor and across to the other trailer.

  They entered the small trailer home through its back door. A narrow hallway greeted them.

  “Henry?” Dean trailed behind as they took the hallway passed the two bedrooms and bathroom to the living room. “Your monthly cycle?”

  “Yes, Dean. That’s what I said.” Henry spoke as if Dean should have known better. He moved to where a grouping of boxes set in the center of the living room.

  “What cycle Henry?” Dean asked. “You don’t get a period. You aren’t a woman.”

  “I know that. But I do get a cycle.” Henry handed him a box. “All men do. They have times of the month.”

  Dean laughed. “No they do not.”

  “They do too,” Henry argued.

  “Henry.” Dean paused so as not to laugh at him. “They do not. I’m a doctor, I know.”

  “Dean,” Henry spoke with insistence, “I go through mood swings just like Ellen.”

  “That’s because her mood swings are so severe they affect you. She did the same thing to me when I lived with her. I never said I had a period though.”

  “I’m not saying I get a period,” Henry argued, “Just PMS.” He listened to Dean laugh. “Tell him, El.”

  “It’s true Dean, he does.” Ellen nodded. “Last month, he went through that wanting sweets, got irritable very easily, and Henry even got bloated. Huh Henry?”

  “My pants were tight.” Henry shook his head.

  “Oh my God.” Dean nearly toppled his box. “Henry you . . .”

  “Dean.” Stepping to Dean, Henry tilted his head and smiled. “Why are you arguing with me? I know my own body. And I’m taking this box to the bedroom.”

  Turning and watching Henry walk by him, Dean shook his head. “A monthly cycle…and I’m being quarantined with him.”

  “Let’s hope not too long.” Ellen tapped Dean’s cheek. “He can get vicious.”

  Just as Dean closed his eyes, he opened them when there was a knock at the door.

  “Oh,” Ellen said excitedly. “Company. I’ll get it.”

  “You do that.” Dean reached down and grabbed another box. “I’ll take these to the back.”

  Almost in a skip, Ellen headed to the trailer door. She turned the unlocked handle and pulled. Nothing. “Damn it.” She swore. “Robbie, you were supposed to fix . . .” With the emphasis of her word she kicked the door. “…this.” The door clicked then popped open. “Oh.” Ellen blushed. “Rev. Bob. Wow. What are you doing here?”

  “How are you Ellen? May I come in?”

  “Sure.” She opened the door wider. “And I’m fine. We’re just putting away some of our personal belongings we brought up.” She closed the door. “Is this official business?”

  “Yes,” Rev. Bob nodded.

  “That is really sweet. You’re gonna bless our trailer. Hold on. I’ll get Dean and Henry.” She took a step but Rev. Bob held out his arm.

  “My business deals with you,” He spoke softly. “Frank came to me a few days back. He said he wants to stop the twelve step plan.”

  Ellen snickered. “Frank is tired of that? I thought he was into it. O.K. Sure. No problem.”

  “No.” Again Rev. Bob shook his head. “He came to me to ask for my help in getting you to try another route, a route that deals with you moving back into the house. Here.” He reached into his pocket and handed her Frank’s list. “I told him if he could convince me with ten reasons, I would speak to you.”

  Ellen scoffed in a slight laugh as she reviewed the list. She gave it back. “This is fifty percent a Dean lashing list. I didn’t think you’d buy into it.”

  “I didn’t. But you have to read between the lines and look at the situation with your eyes open. He made valid points.” When Rev. Bob heard Ellen’s sneering laugh, he filled with a little bitterness. “Listen. You’re married to Frank. You made vows to him. But for over a month you have been in annulment limbo. A decision has to be made now.”

  “I thought you believed in your twelve step plan.”

  “I most certainly do,” Rev. Bob said
proudly, “but only when outside influences are minimal. Ellen, you are drowning in a vat of outside influence . . . Dean. Frank made valid points.”

  “Frank made jealous points,” Ellen argued.

  “Again, I say no. The cold hard truth is that conventional relationships in this community are nonexistent. Men have reached agreement with each other, even set forth new domestic laws regarding the sharing of a woman. Men in this community are able to do that without jealousy, rage, or greed. Frank and Dean are not classified with those men. They cannot. You cannot. And a decision must be made.”

  “It’s not that easy.”

  “Make it that easy. Do the right thing. You have a husband who loves you and wants to make this marriage work. If you choose to end the marriage, I will sign the annulment. No questions asked. But if you choose to make it work.” After a deep breath, Rev. Bob moved to the door. “Then you, Ellen have to throw yourself into it, fully. Move back in with Frank. Even for half the week at first. I know Dean is the father of your children. But for the sake of your marriage, you must limit not just your professional, but your personal contact as well. Deal with him only when it comes to the children. It was done in the old world; it can be done in this one. As with all other aspects if your life, friendship, companionship, whatever . . . you must cut Dean out completely. It’s the only way, at least for a little while.” Giving Ellen a gentle smile and advice to mull over, Rev. Bob opened the door with ease. “Think about it.”

  Ellen’s eyes closed when the door did. She brushed the chill from her arms that was brought on by the chilly air along with the blast of cold reality. Turning around, she stopped when she saw Dean. He was staring from his standstill just at the living room’s entrance. “Dean . . .”

  “Who was here?” Dean said walking into the living room and grabbing a box.

  “Um . . .” Ellen’s nervous breaths seeped into her words. “Cole. He stopped by to see if we needed anything.”

  “Oh. Good. And you better grab your things and claim the small bedroom. Henry’s insisting you should have the couch.” Flashing a smile, Dean turned, carrying his box. He gripped it in his arms tightly and walked back out of the living room.