Book VII Read online

  Time Travel Adventures of The 1800 Club

  BOOK VII

  By Robert P. McAuley

  Published By

  Robert P. McAuley and Smashwords

  Copyright 2014 by Robert P. McAuley

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which has been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

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  The Premise

  The Time Travel Adventures Of The 1800 Club is a 21 st Century haven for people seeking to escape New York City’s frantic pace. Dressed in clothes their ancestors might have worn during the 1800s, members enjoy foods of the period and read periodicals featuring news of a particular date in 1865. However, the 1800 Club also has an astounding secret . . . Time Travel. Members travel back in time nudging famous persons and key events just enough to ensure history unfolds, as it should. Guardians-of-the-past, living in the future, send robotic probes back through the ages, discovered that, at critical time-junctures, pivotal figures stray from vital tasks and actions. These Time Watchers of the past can’t go back and fix the glitch in the timeline because the atmosphere they breathe has been cleaned up over the years and the air of the past is almost unbreathable for them. Then an 1800 Club member from the 2000s are sent back to guarantee that events get back on track. The 1800 Club’s members aid Lincoln, Roosevelt, Bat Masterson, Mark Twain and many others. Without subtle interventions by these unknown agents, the famous might have been only footnotes, rather than giants of history.

  Dear reader, I once read a time travel book where the main character went back over one hundred years in the past to retrieve an object from a house. He entered the house, picked up the object and brought it back to his time. To me it was upsetting that he took us back in time and never once said anything about the house! Never described anything! He might as well have just gone back to a park where things never change. That is why I try to bring the reader along with me as I travel through time. RPM

  A peek into chapter 1

  Because of the death of a little boy over forty-years earlier, Great Britain loses the air war in the Battle of Britain. Three club members go back to fix this glitch and meet another character thought to be a fictional character.

  A peek into chapter 2

  Jesse James must live . . . so that he can tell the future time travelers where a certain, embarrassing parchment was hidden.

  Chapter 1

  The Great Britain Mission

  DATELINE: AUGUST 5, 1897 PLACE: IPING,

  WEST SUSSEX, ENGLAND

  There was a light breeze, but the morning sun was warm on the faces of the people who strolled along Timberly Street, a crowded, stone sidewalk located in Iping village in West Sussex, England. People chatted and smiled as they greeted one another and carried on with their daily routines. A portly woman with a large floppy hat carried a linen bag of groceries and held the hand of a young boy as the breeze blew the rim of her hat down in front of her eyes. It was at that moment, as her hat rim blocked her view, that she was abruptly pushed toward the street. Other people were just as suddenly shoved aside, but the large woman lost her balance, dropped her bag of groceries and lurched against the boy, letting go of his hand. He found himself propelled into the cobblestone street in front of a four-horse carriage. The woman and those around her screamed as the boy’s life was snuffed out on August 5, 1897.

  DATELINE: JULY 10, 1940 PLACE: ABOVE THE DOCKS OF GREAT BRITAIN

  A group of German bombers surrounded by agile Messerschmitt Me 109 fighters swooped towards the dockyards of England, thus beginning the Battle Of Britain. Far below, another group of fighters rose from airfields below to intercept them. The melee ended almost as soon as it had started and the end result was fires raging in the docks and columns of black, greasy smoke rising almost vertically into the sky denoting crash-sights of the fallen aircraft.

  Both sides returned to their respective bases awaiting the return bout that was to continue for three months. A high-flying hawk circled the area and after the battle ended, followed the fighters as they landed and perched on one of the hangars at the Royal Air Force base at Coltishall.

  DATELINE: 2068 PLACE: HISTORY TRACKING CENTER, NEW YORK CITY

  Alexis Shuntly squinted through her thick glasses at the hologram she was looking at. Her shift had just started and she sipped black coffee and munched on a slice of buttered whole-wheat toast. She sat closer to the battle raging on the coffee table and shook her head as she thought, Boy. We sure do build great weapons to destroy each other. She felt that she could almost smell the smoke from the miniature battle before her and she moved her coffee cup back as a British aircraft came in for a crash landing next to her toast. Finally, the noise of battle subsided and the probe settled on a British aircraft hangar and surveyed the damaged aircraft.

  Alexis reached for her coffee as she reran the scene that showed the columns of smoke rising into the clear, blue sky. She counted them and wrote the number twenty-nine down. She then went to the history computer at the end of the long conference table she was working at and asked for the number of aircraft downed that day as she thought, Might as well just do a double check before grabbing the next hologram. The computer set to work as she went and took a bite of her toast and returned a moment later to see the answer displayed: AIRCRAFT DOWNED ON JULY 10, 1940 WAS 19. BREAKDOWN: GERMAN AIRCRAFT LOST, 13: NINE HE-111s and FOUR ME 109s. BRITISH AIRCRAFT LOST, 6: FOUR HURRICANES AND TWO SPITFIRES.

  She looked at her notes and saw a disparity in the numbers. She had counted twenty-nine aircraft lost while the computer said it was only nineteen. Uh-oh, she thought, that’s a difference of ten aircraft and I wonder if they were German or British? She reran the entire hologram six times before she called the Time Tracking Group in for a meeting.

  The group sat around the conference table, watched the hologram and then listened as Alexis stated the bottom line: “So, our history tells us that the British lost six aircraft that day while the Germans lost thirteen. But, if this new hiccup in history happens, the British lose sixteen to their enemy’s thirteen. So the Brit’s lose ten more fighters than they actually did. Now, according to our computer projections, if this keeps up, they could lose the air battle of Britain.”

  John Hyder raised his hand and was recognized by a nod of Alexis’ head.

  He said, as he absentmindedly pulled at his long, blond and gray sideburns, “Alexis, what happens if they lose the air battle?”

  She looked at the notes she held and said after she found the spot, “If the Royal Air Force loses control of the air over England, it opens the way for an invasion by German forces.”

  Jerry Sullivan slid his chair back and half stood as he asked, “Alexis, can you tell m
e what types of aircraft the British lose in this newest version of history?”

  Once again she referred to her notes. “In the newest hiccup of history, the Royal Air Force loses six Spitfires, two Bristol Beaufighters and eight Blackburn Skuas’.”

  “So,” continued Jerry as he cleaned his glasses, “in the latest version they lose none of their Hurricane fighters. Correct?”

  Alexis slid her finger slowly down her notes and said as she shrugged her shoulders, “Right. They don’t lose any Hurricane fighters. Does that mean anything to you?”

  “Not sure. But I do know that the Beaufighters and the Blackburn Skua should never have been in an air-to-air dogfight with the German Luftwaffe. They were slow, underpowered and outgunned by the Germans.”

  “Well,” answered Alexis as she sat back down in her seat, maybe they needed them. Maybe they were low on fighters.”

  “Precisely!” Jerry started to pace as he spoke, “I suggest we read up on the fighters used by the Brits’ during the battle. I’m pretty sure they never used those two types of aircraft that way, and what about the Hurricanes? How come in the new version none of them were shot down? I say let’s get some photos of all the aircraft involved and watch the hologram again and count what type goes down. Make sense?”

  A nodding of the member’s heads said that all agreed.

  “Okay,” said Alexis as she stood, “here’s what we’ll do. Jerry, you get the photos of the aircraft used and I’ll have Ted order lunch. We’ll return in one hour. Good?”

  Once again all agreed and left the room as the battle stayed frozen on the conference table.

  Two hours later and after watching the hologram another nine times Alexis stood before the group. She read the data that the group had compiled from their research and watching the hologram images.

  “The consensus of this group is that the Battle of Britain, otherwise known as the battle for control of the air above Great Britain, defeated the enemy air forces by using two type of fighters: the Spitfire and the Hurricane. While the Spitfire was a match for the German’s best fighter, the Me 109, they were few in numbers and had to use another fighter, the Hurricane, in their fight against the invaders. In the original history the Hurricane, while inferior to the Me 109, more than helped by attacking the German bombers and other aircraft. Together these two fighters fought off the German Luftwaffe and stopped the invasion of the British Isles.” She paused, pushed back her thick black hair from her eyes and continued.

  “However, in the latest version of the battle, the British are losing more fighters and pilots than they can afford, and our computers predict that soon there will be no pilots left to fly. The main reason seems to be the missing Hurricane fighters. Although slower than the British Spitfire, it was more numerous and a much better fighter than the Beaufighter or the Blackburn Skua.” She looked around the table and went on, “Any suggestions?”

  Joseph Sergi shrugged his shoulders and asked, “Why not send a probe back to one of their airfields and see if any were available that day?”

  Alexis nodded, “Sounds right to me,” she looked around the room and saw approving faces. “Okay then, I’ll get Ted.” She opened the door and motioned to the ever-present runner who entered opening his notebook.

  “Yes, Ms. Shuntly?”

  “Ted, will you please send a probe back to July 10, 1940? Program it to check out all the aircraft stationed at the RAF base at Coltishal, just outside of London.”

  “And,” added Joseph Sergi, “maybe the other two bases as well.”

  “Ahhh, that’d be RAF Leconfield and RAF Tern Hill.” Alexis said as she referred to her computer notes.

  “Will do, Ms. Shuntly.” Said Ted as he exited the room. “I should have the holograms ready in about one hour and fifteen minutes.”

  It was almost three hours later that they finished looking at the holograms and Alexis said with a shake of her head, “Well gang, looks like the Hurricane fighter was never purchased by the RAF, and now they’re taking a beating.” She slumped back into her seat as she went on, “Looking at further computer projections is becoming disheartening too. It seems that if the Germans gain control of the air space over England, they’ll invade and win. That will leave no place for the United States to operate out of and the Germans become the dominant power of Europe. And shortly after that, they’ll attack Canada and then us.”

  “Wow! Quipped Jerry Sullivan, “We better make a move pretty soon. Maybe we should send someone back and try to get the British Government to purchase the Hurricane.”

  Joseph Sergi raised his hand and stood as he addressed the group, “I took a few minutes out during lunch to check up on the designer of the Hurricane, Mister Sydney Camm, and if we have a probe sent back to the Hawker Aircraft Company in 1925, he was their Chief Designer.”

  Alexis nodded and said, “Thank you, Joseph. Did you get a location for the company?”

  Joseph nodded and said, as he read from a notebook, “Yes, the Hawker Aircraft Company was based at Kingston on the Thames. Camm was the designer of the Hurricane and its’ first flight was in 1935. But as I said he was definitely at Kingston in 1925. Supposedly he was playing around with the design years before the military put out a request for a fighter.”

  Once again Alexis opened the door and motioned to Ted to come back to the room.

  The young man said with a smile, “Yes, Ms. Shuntly?”

  “Ted, we need to send another probe back, this time to 1925, to Kingston on the Thames. A factory called the Hawker Aircraft factory. See if you can find out where Mister Sydney Camm is located in case we have to send someone back to make contact with him.”

  “Right away, Ms. Shuntly. But, I may need more than the usual hour to find Mister Camm.”

  “No problem, Ted, I’ll be here.”

  Two hours later the group watched as a hologram showed the reception area of the Hawker Aircraft Company. The probe did a slow scan and finally settled on a telephone list of the company’s employees. There was no Sydney Camm listed. The scene shifted to follow the paved road leading from the factory to the town of Kingston. The enterprising Ted had programmed it to follow a set pattern should the man not be present at the factory, and now it was paying off. The probe next settled in a position to scan names and telephone numbers of the Kingston Telephone Exchange. Once more there was no Sydney Camm listed.

  Once again the time watchers were perplexed. “This is getting worse,” said Alexis as she started to pace the floor. She stopped and asked, “All right, then, a full press on Mister Camm. First, when and where was he born? Let’s find that information and send a probe back to make sure that event happened.” She looked at Joseph and asked, “Joseph, will you, please get that information?”

  Joseph slid over to the history computer, as he answered, “No problem, Alexis. Give me a minute.”

  Another hour and fifteen minutes later and the group smiled as the probe showed new-born baby Sydney Camm being fed by a nurse in a small hospital in Windsor, England, on August 5, 1893.

  Almost afraid of disturbing the baby as it ate, Alexis said in a low voice, “Well, at least we know Mister Camm was born. Now we have to start following him as he grows up and see where he decides to not design aircraft.”

  “Or dies.”

  The group turned to see John Hyder stand as he continued his line of thought. “Let’s face it, gang. One of the possible reasons Mister Camm doesn’t design the Hawker Hurricane is that he dies before our history says he did. I suggest we send a group of probes back simultaneously, and see if he grows up to enter another field, or if he even grows up at all.”

  After agreeing, the group retired for the evening as Ted went to work on their request.

  Eight o’clock the next morning and the group sat at the conference table eating breakfast as they watched the holograms produced by the ten probes Ted had sent back. It was the hologram of the boy’s birthday on August 5, 1897 that startled them and ended their breakfast. Slowly Alexi
s stood and addressed them.

  “Well, at least now we know why the Hawker Hurricane fighter aircraft was never produced: Sydney Camm died when he was only four years old.” She sat down and went on in a low voice, “We must prevent this disaster from ever happening.” She did a quick look at the group and all agreed by simply nodding yes, as she opened the door and again motioned for Ted to come into the conference room. “Ted, we will have a hologram ready for President Bill Scott of the 1800 Club, ready in an hour.”

  DATELINE: JUNE 4, 1957 PLACE: BIFF’S POOLHALL, BROOKLYN, NEW YORK

  The three time travelers; Bill Scott, president of the 1800 Club, John Brand and Rocky Perna, two club members, were dressed in the typical 1950s clothing of a white tee shirt, blue denim jeans, motorcycle boots and wore their hair slicked back using the greasy hair tonics of the time. They watched as the glare of the light bulb, which almost touched the green felt-covering of the tenth and final pool table, reflected off the greased, combed-back hair of a young man as he stretched to make his shot. The young man, Jacky, tapped the white cue ball, sending it into the nine-ball, causing it to roll into the side pocket, and causing a collective moan from the group of players surrounding the table.

  Jacky removed a pack of cigarettes from the rolled up, short-sleeve of his tee shirt, took out a cigarette and lit it as he deftly placed the pack back into his shirt-sleeve. “Nine cents each,” he said, “that’s twenty-seven cents, guys.”

  Bill put a nickel and four pennies on the rail of the table as John and Rocky matched his. The four men were playing nine-ball, for one penny a point, and Jacky was showing them why he didn’t seem to need a steady job, and almost lived at Biffs.