by Clark Graham
A captain and three crew members were on the boat. Two of the men were in the cabin, monitoring the images of the seafloor. The other was watching to make sure the cables weren’t getting tangled. The captain spent most of his time in the flying bridge, steering the ship, but came down once in a while to check the status of the operation.
They’d been doing this for four days now. They had covered all the places that the plane should have come down. Dempsey brought out his laptop again. He was losing faith in his estimates. He had gone over and over the model. The plane had to be here. Right here.
Instead of looking at the monitor, General Williams scanned the horizon with binoculars. “You know what occurs to me?” he asked Dempsey.
“No, Sir.”
“We’re not being watched.”
“Sir?”
“There’s no plane in the sky, no ship from miles around. No drone keeping track of us. Nothing. Senator James would have been spying on at least one of us.”
“What would that mean?” Dempsey asked.
“That would mean, Senator James already has the plane. We’re wasting our time.”
“But sir, he’ll destroy time.”
Williams set down the binoculars. “I’m afraid you’re right.”
Chapter Nine
Seattle, Washington
2044
Phillip Anderson smiled. “Lockheed is laying off, so to get them to take on a new project was enticing. We have all the men who built the original Vmax3 drive. With their memories and our copy of it, it should be a breeze to reconstruct.”
Phillip shouldn’t have been there. He, like Senator James, didn’t have a security clearance. James was writing the checks, however, so what he said went. It didn’t matter that Anderson had been convicted of espionage and sentenced to life in prison. A presidential pardon, in exchange for James finding funding for a special project, freed Anderson.
Phillip would be the pilot. His first mission, go get Dalton and bring him back. James felt a need to yell and scream at him for the failure in killing Hitler. Then he would send Dalton and Anderson back to try and get rid of Hitler again.
The airframe had been beyond repair because of all the corrosion. This was a huge setback. Even James, who was an expert in shifting money around, couldn’t shift this much without getting the attention of a committee somewhere. It didn’t matter. With a time machine, he could get rid of his political adversaries in the past, before they became a problem. A few investments in the right securities would help recoup the money, too. All he had to do was stall until the machine was operational.
He would deal with that later. For now he smiled. “Excellent.”
Work went a lot slower than he anticipated. A CIA agent was poking around. Special Agent Carlson began looking into the missing money. The man had close-cropped hair and looked like a bulldog to James. His nose was a stub and crunched. He followed a scent like a bulldog. James couldn’t shake the man.
The man had interviewed James three times already. He didn’t seem to like the answers, because another interview was scheduled.
James stroked his chin as he thought about it. CIA, agent indeed. There’s nothing special about him. I’ll wipe him from the history books, just after I get rid of Hitler.
Phillip burst into the office where the Senator had set up shop. “The Vmax3 drive is done. It’s on a truck and headed this way.”
If James could have danced, he would have. “Ahead of schedule!”
“There’s a problem, though.” Phillip wasn’t smiling. “The men down there say that they are being talked to by Carlson. One by one. If one of them knows too much and slips, we’re done for.”
“I’ll tell Boeing we need that airframe sooner. They’re used to working massive overtime. They can start doing it on my plane.”
“Yes, Sir. I’ll let them know the schedule just got moved up.”
A month later, the engine was mated to the fuselage. James had moved back to Washington DC to distract the investigators. He would do no tests this time. The plane would take off in the middle of the night and bring Dalton back. With the day set, the senator relaxed.
When he arrived at his office the next morning, three CIA agents were waiting for him. Carlson handed him a piece of paper. “Senator, we are taking over your project. You will no longer have any contact with anyone involved with it.”
The senator checked his watch. “You’re too late. The plane has already taken off. By the time Phillip Anderson has completed his missions, Mr. Carlson, you will no longer exist. You will die of SIDS at the age of one. In fact, I expect you to disappear any second now.”
“That’s it, I’m arresting you for murder.” Carlson pushed the senator against the wall and handcuffed him.
“You’re going to have a very hard time proving murder if it happens in the past. Your friends here will never know you existed. Your investigation will have never have happened. I can’t have murdered you, you’re still alive.”
It was the first time the agents seem to understand what they were dealing with. Each looked at the other searching for answers, but none of them had any. Carlson undid the cuffs and left. He knew he couldn’t charge the man with his murder if he was still alive.
James rubbed his wrists. He had made up the whole story. Phillip was going back in time to get Dalton, which was the only mission currently. It would be two days before he left.
Chapter Ten
The Hamptons, New York
1912
Adalwolf Dalton was shaken awake by his wife. “What is that sound?”
No sooner had she asked than a light from the outside of the house illuminated the bedroom.
Dalton stood up, put on his pants and grabbed his pistol from the drawer. “It’s bad news. It’s the time machine.”
He headed outside his home to the back yard. The plane had landed and the pilot was getting out. When he looked over at Dalton, he held up his hands. “Whoa, buddy, I’m here to rescue you.”
“I don’t want to be rescued.” He concentrated on the man’s face. “Phillip Anderson, is that you?”
“In the flesh. Can you put down the gun?”
Dalton pointed the gun at the ground. “I thought you were in prison.”
“Presidential pardon arraigned by my friend, Senator James. I’m here to find out what went wrong and to fix it. Senator James still wants Hitler dead.”
“It doesn’t work. Without Hitler, the communists come to power. The United States is attacked on all sides. The timeline is a nightmare. No, Hitler must stay alive.”
“What about stopping the holocaust?”
Dalton shook his head. “Far worse things happen to the Jews under the communists.”
“I don’t believe that. Listen, come back with me and you can explain everything to them.”
Dalton felt Mary come up behind him. He swallowed hard. Senator James had the time machine, he had to stop him, one way or another. “No, this ends here. I can’t let you go back.” He pointed the gun at Phillip.
Phillip’s eyes widened. “You can’t be serious.” He held up his hands again.
Dalton’s eight-year-old son, Bryan, wrapped his arms around Dalton’s leg. “What’s happening, Daddy? I’m scared.”
“This is a bad man.”
Phillip smiled, he seemed to know Dalton couldn’t kill him with his wife and kid watching. “I guess I’ll be on my way, good buddy.”
“Before you go, how did you get the Vmax drive?”
“A New York stockbroker found it. No, he knew you somehow and he traced it back. Found the ship’s log that picked you up. He traced the location from there. It took him years. He pulled it up in 1925. He had no idea how to fix it, so it sat in a warehouse until we found it. The airframe was trash, so we had to construct a new one. No problem for Senator James. It was the Vmax 3 drive we needed. The original plans were destroyed. It was beyond repair, but all the components were there. We reverse engineered it.”
�
�You should destroy it, before it destroys you. I was lucky to fix the timeline.”
“Not to worry, I’ll go back in time and rescue you out of the ocean. I’ll bet you’ll be more willing to go with me then. See you in a few minutes.” Phillip climbed in the plane.
Dalton was having none of it. He walked over to the side of the plane and shot the oil tank. He emptied his clip on it. Phillips hurried to start the engine and fly away.
Eight-year-old Bryan was screaming and his wife ran up to him. “Did you kill him?”
Dalton hugged his son. “The bad man isn’t hurt.” He picked up his son and faced his wife. “He isn’t hurt, but he won’t make it back to his time. The fatal flaw with his machine is the position of the oil tank. They didn’t fix that when they built the new one. The drive that lets time travel happen won’t work for very long.”
“Is he going to be stuck in the past like you are?”
“Yes,” he smiled and kissed her. “It isn’t so bad.”
“I’m glad you didn’t go with him. I wondered all these years, if you would, if given a chance. Now I know.”
They walked back into the house. “Yes, I do love you, although I miss my Ipad.”
“Your what?”
“It’s a, ah well. It’s hard to explain is what it is.” Dalton put the gun in his pocket. He hoped he did enough damage to the machine to stop it. Phillip Anderson wouldn't care about timelines and people’s lives. He would do whatever Senator James told him, no matter who it affected. His heart racing, Dalton lay back down, his wife and eight-year-old in the bed. The boy had stopped crying at least. Dalton knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep.
The next morning, Dalton sat at his desk. He needed to find the airplane and destroy it. It was a nightmare that they had built another one. They can replace it over and over again. He shivered. He had to do something. He knew it was up to him. Ross and Williams were probably unaware any of this was going on.
If Anderson was able to fix the plane, he could go back farther in time. Would I go with him? He didn’t like Anderson, but getting plucked out of the ocean or off that freighter might have a way to convince him to go back to his own time.
How much damage would they do to the timeline? His very existence was threatened.
He felt his wife’s gentle hand on his shoulder. “It will be fine, sweetheart.”
I could lose everything I have and I wouldn’t even know it. He sighed. He stood up and hugged her.
“The time machine was amazing. If I had any lingering doubts about your crazy story, they all disappeared last night.”
“They should not have built another one. They should have let the whole idea go.” He kept holding her.
“What will they do now?”
“That machine won’t make it back to its own time. I shot low enough to ensure that all the oil will leak out. I don’t know how they found me. It’s very upsetting. They will have to build another. Of course, it could show up tomorrow with another pilot. Once they use this time and date, there is nothing stopping them from doing it again.”
“They could show up tomorrow, even though it will take them years to build another one?” Her wide eyes gazed intently into his.
“They could show up tomorrow, or yesterday. It’s not good for us.”
“You need to go out and get more bullets,” she insisted.
“I’m getting a bigger gun while I’m at it. Next time they might fix that fatal flaw.”
They busied themselves around the house, trying to forget what had happened. It was a deep feeling of helplessness to think that another time machine could land without warning.
Dalton checked his correspondence. The stocks were paying off. His steel mill was churning out raw material for cannons and guns. It was making him rich. It also gave him an underlying guilt. He would be providing the means for the great destruction that would happen in two short years.
When Mary came in, Dalton turned to her. “We need to get David back home. Europe’s not going to be a safe place soon. Your brother has done a tremendous work there, though.
“I’ll send him a telegram to come back. I have missed him so.”
“Tell him not to come through England. Leave from a German port instead.”
“Any particular reason?” She stared at him intently.
His knowledge of the future upset her often. This was one of those times. How could he tell her over a thousand people would soon die in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean? “It will be safer.”
She shook her head. “I’ll tell him it’s important. I do wish you could confide in me. I would like to know what’s going on.”
“It’s going to be bad, that’s all I can tell you. He needs to leave through Germany.”
She nodded and walked away.
Chapter Eleven
The Hamptons, New York
1912
The eight-year-old, Bryan, was having nightmares again. “Bad man from the sky is at our house,” He screamed.
Dalton woke and sat bolt upright in be, then reached for his gun. Mary gently touched his hand. “Honey, it’s another nightmare is all.”
He took a deep breath. Peeking out the window to make sure, he rolled over and laid back down.
Mary went in to comfort their son. Fifteen minutes later, she came back to bed. “He’s asleep. I don’t know how long he’ll stay that way. The time machine really upset him. It’s upset you too I see.”
“Haven’t had a good night’s sleep since it landed. I had hoped it was over.”
“Are we going to have this hanging over our heads for the rest of our lives?”
“I’m afraid so.”
She put her arm around him. “You didn’t go back with them. I guess I’m more important than an Ipad.”
He laughed. It eased his tension.
In the morning, a currier brought in a large crate. Dalton smiled as he wheeled it in the house. Mary’s forehead creased. “What is that, dear?”
“I pulled in a favor from one of my companies. It’s a bigger gun. I will stop them after all.”
She shook her head. “Boys and their toys.”
He sat the box down and busied himself at his desk. The door chimed again, this time Mary went to answer it. She came back into the room. “Honey, you said for David not to come back through England, but he couldn’t get across the channel, so he had to.”
Dalton snapped his head around. “What port, what ship?”
She stepped back in surprise. “Um, it doesn’t say what ship, but the telegram was sent from Southampton.”
“Oh, no.” He stood up and stared out the window. “No!”
“What is it?” Mary grabbed Dalton’s arm to turn him around. “What is it?”
His voice was muted. “The Titanic leaves from Southampton. It’s going to sink.”
“We have to stop it! Send a telegram. Tell them to change course, tell them to return to port.”
He hung his head. “I can’t. I changed history by letting one little boy die. If I let a thousand live, no timeline will be safe. No, the Titanic must sink. They will pass new laws. Ocean travel will be safer.”
“But, David? Will he die? How can you just stand there when his life is in peril?”
“I can’t do anything. I won’t do anything. I told him what not to do. He did it anyway.” He kicked the wall.
“Well, I can do something.” She stormed out of the house.
He sat down heavily in his chair. His world had just come crashing down. She knew now he wouldn’t stop history, for David or for her. He thought about going after her, but decided to let her go.
An hour later, she came back. Running in, she hugged him. “He isn’t on the Titanic. Another telegram from him arrived while I was at their office.”
She read the telegram. “Uncle Adalwolf, I hope you’re not mad at me. I tried to get on the Titanic, but she had sailed. Will be taking the SS. New York City, but there is a coal strike here, so she is delayed.”
He held up the telegram and said to it, “No, David, I’m not mad at you.”
Mary stepped back. “You would’ve let him die.”
“I already impacting everything, by just being here. I want to minimize that contact.”
“When are all those people going to die?”
“In a day or two. I don’t remember the exact day, but soon.”
“Is there nothing we can do? A thousand people? How horrible.” Tears streaked her face.
Dalton put his arm around her. “It’s the past where I came from. It was still a very sad thing, but just the beginning of sad things. Worse tragedies than that are on the horizon. It’s best that we don’t discuss them ahead of time. It all has to turn out this way or we are the reason for the suffering we create by changing the timeline.”
Mary was quiet for the rest of the evening.
A few weeks later, when the SS New York City arrived in New York, both Adalwolf and Mary were there to greet David.
“I couldn’t find passage in France or Germany, Uncle. I’m sorry, but I had to leave from England. I hope you’re not angry at me.”
Dalton ruffled his hair. “It’s so great to have you back in one piece.”
Mary hugged David. “Welcome home.”
Chapter Twelve
Issaquah, Washington
1970
Phillip had heard the thuds against the fuselage as Dalton shot his plane. He’s crazy. Wasting no time in getting airborne, Phillips had flown away quickly. Not knowing how badly the plane was damaged, he decided not to go further back in time, but go forward, to his own time, to have the plane repaired.
When he was high in the sky, he switched on the Vmax 3 drive, setting it for the year 2032. It came to life the plane buffeted wildly. This was normal. What wasn’t normal was the engine smoke billowing out the back. Soon the drive stopped working
His heart racing, Phillip tried to switch it on again, but it didn’t work. Where am I? When am I?
