Time Travel Adventures of the 1800 Club, Book II Read online

  Osloe smiled again. “A reward for your help, John. I could never have made it on my own. You can run those in your magazine along with as much of the story as you wish. I hope it brings you the top magazine award available.” He took out an instant camera and set it on his desk, adjusted a timer and stood next to John as the picture was snapped.

  “I’ll take two. I’m taking one with me as a reminder that friendship is never ending and universal.”

  John asked, “When do you leave, my friend?”

  Osloe extracted the first photo from the camera and handed it to John, he put the camera in his pocket and answered, “I have been planning this trip for years. I’m ready now. I want to go home and see my family.” He handed John a folded sheet of paper from his jacket pocket. It was a bank transfer statement.

  “John, as I said, without your help all those years ago, I couldn’t have made it. You gave me two hundred and twenty-five dollars to get started, and I’m returning it, with interest. I’m leaving you all I have on Earth. It comes to over three million dollars. I made some good investments, and I owe it all to you.”

  John was startled, “I can’t take this! I didn’t do anything . . . “

  “The small man held up a hand. “I have no use for it, and I don’t want it taken over by a bank. No, it’s yours to use as you wish. Now, I have another surprise for you.”

  He headed for the door as John followed with the papers and photographs. They walked down the long tunnel and came to a heavy steel door with an armed guard in front of it. The guard looked at Osloe’s ID card and then John’s. He waved them on as Osloe opened the door with a swipe of his ID card. They went in, and Osloe closed and locked the door behind them. He opened a second door and there in the center of a round room was the disc. Osloe motioned John forward and then quickly went beneath the saucer. He opened the belly hatch, got in and in thirty seconds was out again.

  “Get in, John, you’re driving.”

  John looked at him. “I’m driving? Where?”

  Osloe pointed to the ceiling. “Straight up.”

  That’s when John saw the round room was a large round tunnel going straight up.

  “At the top,” said Osloe as John settled into the seat, “is a round steel door that will automatically open as we approach it.”

  “But, where are we going?”

  Osloe smiled broadly and said, “You are taking the flight of your life. And when you are ready, we take you home, and I take off for my home.” He pointed up. “Ready?”

  “I’m ready. Here goes.” John squeezed the grip as he put up-pressure on it, and the disc slowly rose. As predicted, when they got to the top the door opened, allowing the sunlight to stream into the disc’s interior. John glanced over at Osloe, who looked like a child on an amusement park ride. He was beaming.

  “Shall I open her up?”

  “Whenever you are ready, Captain,” Osloe replied.

  John squeezed and the saucer shot straight up. As the sky went to blue-black John slowed. “Transitioning to forward,” he said. He put forward pressure on the grip, and the disc went from up, to forward flight. He squeezed tighter, and they zoomed around the Earth.

  “Speed?” he asked.

  “In Earth terms, it can go at sixty-five thousand miles an hour.” The sun dipped behind them, and they were over the Pacific Ocean. John was exuberant as he zipped around the globe. Finally before them was the sun again.

  “They must be going nuts at the base, Mr. O. You can’t go back now even if you wanted to. They’d throw you in the clink and toss away the key.”

  “Will you be all right, John?” Osloe asked.

  “Me? What can they do to me? It’s only natural for a reporter from Aerospace Technology Weekly to take a flight when offered. Even a spacecraft. Not to worry, Mr. O, I’ll be fine.” He grinned and asked, “Or should I call you Jack Partesuom?”

  Osloe patted his shoulder. “I needed a name, John. I wanted to start over and didn’t want the Wright brothers to hear anything about me in case I got into some trouble. They had to concentrate on flying. I took up too much of their time as it was.”

  John nodded and pointed down as New York came into view. “I’m going to land it in Central Park. I’ll hop out and you can finally go home. Okay with you, Mr. O?”

  Osloe nodded, “Okay with me, John.”

  John went vertical over New York and when he was close to the Empire State Building, went to forward flight again. In a minute, he had landed in Central Park. People ran, mostly away but many toward them. John followed Osloe out of the craft, and they stood outside as a crowd gathered, not close but in a large, quiet circle. The crowd watched as the tall man and the smaller man hugged and then, the smaller one got back in and the saucer took off straight up.

  The, hard to faze, New Yorkers parted quietly as the taller man walked through the circle and toward the streets. Some followed for a short distance and watched as he went down the subway stairs.

  John opened his apartment door as the phone was ringing. It was Dave West. He wanted to let John know he had heard all about the saucer landing in the park and a tall man walking away. He figured it was John when he received a phone call from Groome Lake demanding to speak with John Brand. The news about the hubbub at Groome Lake made him offer John a place to stay until the magazine printed the story.

  John accepted and was about to leave his apartment, when he saw the note his boss had given him about the invitation to Groome Lake. On it was Jack Partesuom’s name, but John saw it in the reflection of a shaving mirror he had unpacked. The name backwards showed Osloe’s sense of humor. The mirror’s reflection showed Partesuom as, “Mousetrap.”

  He packed a small overnight bag and as he stuffed items into it, he noticed the piece of paper that Wilbur Wright had handed him years ago. He opened it and saw a sketch of a mousetrap … and, it was a better mousetrap than was ever available on the marketplace. He smiled and thought, Boy, do I have a story to tell, well, at least what I can tell. He went out and locked the door.

  Back at The 1800 Club, Bill was enjoying a cigar and brandy as he watched a television special on the Wright brothers. He was taking a sip of his drink when his Time Unit gave a low vibration, letting him know there was a text message coming in. He opened it and read, “HELLO, BILL. CAN YOU READ UP ON THE HINDENBURG? WE HAVE SOMETHING DEVELOPING THAT CAN BE A DISTRACTION TO THE PROGRAM. I’LL FIND OUT ALL I CAN AND SEE YOU SOON. REGARDS, YOUR GRANDSON, EDMUND SCOTT.”

  Bill closed the unit and walked over to his bookcase and removed a book on the German airship, Hindenburg.

  Chapter 2

  The Hindenburg Mission

  DATELINE: MAY 6, 1937 PLACE: LAKEHURST, NEW JERSEY

  It was eight-thirty in the evening and rain threatened again. The crowd scanned the sky, as a butterfly hovered over them, its dark wings blending into the rain clouds. The throng was waiting for a glimpse of the giant German airship, Hindenburg, now more than two and one-half hours late.

  A photographer walked out of the immense hangar that would protect the great airship from the weather and announced that his office in New York had informed him that the craft had not flown over their city at five-thirty as scheduled. One enterprising reporter started to interview people waiting for friends and family to arrive from Europe, while others in the crowd began to leave, but still looked up hopefully at the darkening sky. Flashes of lightning gave an ominous starkness to the U.S. Navy field as the sailors who would have helped moor the craft drifted back to their barracks. Some may have had a premonition that the world had seen the last of the greatest, lighter-than-airship, Hindenburg.

  DATELINE: 2066 PLACE: HISTORY TRACKING CENTER, NEW YORK CITY

  Jerry Sullivan cleaned his glasses vigorously as he looked away from the hologram that played in the center of the long, mahogany table. He looked at the others who sat with him. Everyone appeared shocked.

  “It was supposed to explode and burn at Lakehurst Naval Station on May 6, 1937,�
�� said Alexis Shuntly. She turned to John Hyder on her right, “My God, John! Do you know what this means?”

  Hyder was shaking his head. “Jerry,” he asked, “will you play it again?”

  Sullivan activated the butterfly drone’s hologram, only to show the same clip, an empty, wet airfield where the airship Hindenburg should have been—on fire. He looked around the table at the others. Besides Hyder there was Joseph Sergi, Maryellen Muldey, Anthony Landi and Alexis Shuntly. The six people of the Time Tracking Group sat glumly. Behind them, hanging on the wall, was a picture of John Mudge, the inventor of the Time Machine the group used to track these events.

  Sullivan stood up and stared at the picture. “We absolutely have to send someone back,” he said. “This is, by far, the worst possible thing that could happen. We must make sure the Hindenburg crosses the Atlantic and crashes at Lakehurst like it happened in the history books.” He stopped pacing and looked at them. “For the record, a show of hands for all in favor of a trip back to straighten this out.”

  Every hand went up. Sullivan nodded and opened the door to catch the eye of the tall young man who waited in the hallway. “Ted, please come in.” Sullivan held the door and after the young man had entered, closed it.

  Ted looked at him and said, “Sir?”

  “Who works in the 1937 time period?” asked Sullivan.

  Ted took out a small notebook and thumbed through it. Before he could answer, Alexis Shuntly said, “The person to send is John Brand. He did an outstanding job on the Wright brothers mission.”

  “But,” said Anthony Landi, as he stood up and began to pace, “that was in the 1903 time frame. Would he be able to drop into the late thirties and perform just as well?”

  Shuntly nodded and said, “Absolutely! That was my case and I read his debrief. He was innovative and handled any twist that came his way. He’s also a pilot. I think we should go with a person with a proven record. This is just too important to leave to chance.”

  Sullivan began cleaning his glasses again and turned to the young man. “Fine. Ted, who oversees that time period?”

  Ted checked his notebook and answered, “Edmund Scott from our time period is the contact person for The 1800 Club of that time period. It’s run by Bill Scott.”

  Sullivan nodded his head, “Yes, I remember Bill Scott. Alexis brought him here for the Wright mission. Nice man, and a fast learner, too.” He looked at Ted. “Will you set it up for us?”

  The young man nodded and left. As he closed the door, he thought he’d never seen them so down. This must be big.

  DATELINE: 2011, PLACE: THE 1800 CLUB, NEW YORK CITY

  Bill Scott was playing a computer game and had the upper hand against an alien starship when he heard a knock on one of the two doors in his living room. That door was the Time Portal so he knew the knock could come only from someone from the future, most likely his grandson Edmund. Bill sent a bolt of energy at the starship and as it exploded he reached the door and opened it. The tall young man who smiled at him was indeed his future relative, Edmund Scott.

  “Hey handsome,” Bill said as he gave him a bear hug, “come on in.” Scott helped the younger man into the club as Edmund said in a whisper,

  “Greetings from 2066, Grandpa.”

  Bill winced. “Ow, that hurts. Stick with Bill, kid. Okay?”

  The future Scott smiled as he was led to an easy chair and sank down. “Whew, this air is tough on us clean-living guys. I don’t know how you do it.”

  “Hearty lungs, Edmund, hearty lungs. But it’s good to know that the future people have cleaned up our polluted air . . . even if it means you can only make short visits. Guess you don’t want something to drink?”

  Edmund shook his head. “Bill, we have a major problem and need your help.”

  Bill sat down opposite him. “What have you got, Ed?”

  Edmund caught his breath and in a low, slow voice started to explain.

  “I’m sure you are familiar with the German Zeppelin the Hindenburg.” Bill nodded assent. “Good,” Edmund continued. “Its last flight was from Germany to the U.S. in 1937. It was supposed to dock at Naval Air Station Lakehurst in Lakehurst, New Jersey, but it exploded right over the base. Sabotage was suspected at the time, but later the theory was that it was struck by lightning or there was a tear in the internal gasbag.” He paused and took a slow long breath and continued.

  “The gas they used was hydrogen. It’s a highly combustible gas that might have been set ablaze by static electricity from the thunderstorms in the area. It was a shame, because if they had used helium it would never have happened. Helium’s not combustible.”

  Bill raised his eyebrows. “So why didn’t they use helium?”

  Edmund took a shallow breath and said, “The U.S. was the world’s supplier of helium, and they wouldn’t sell any to Nazi Germany. In fact, the U.S. passed the “Helium Act” stating that it would not sell helium to any other governments. Of course, they passed it strictly to stop the Germans from buying it. The U.S. wanted to corner the lighter-than-air travel market. He paused again.

  “Anyway, one of our drones was sent back to that date and the Hindenburg never arrived at Lakehurst. In fact, it never entered U.S. air space at all. It was lost somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean. The liner Rex reported seeing it as it flew over France. So it could have gone down anywhere between France and New York. We just don’t know.”

  Bill sat back in his chair. “Let me see if I have this right. You would like me to somehow make sure the Hindenburg explodes over the Navy base at Lakehurst, New Jersey?”

  Edmund shook his head, “No, Bill, not you. The council recommends that you send John Brand. He has proven himself and he’s an aviation expert and a pilot. He’s perfect for the mission. What do you think?”

  Bill thought a minute and said, “I agree that John Brand is the man for this mission, but do they realize that this is in the thirties and The 1800 Club members would feel more comfortable in the 1800 period?”

  “Yes, Bill, they know they are asking to send a person back to an era he has not trained for, but this mission is super critical, and we have to chance it.”

  “Why is this mission so important?”

  The young man from the future coughed and took a deep breath. Then in a low voice that indicated to Bill that he was coming to the end of his tolerance for this time period and its polluted atmosphere, said, “On board the Hindenburg that day was John Mudge. He was the great-great-great grandfather of John Mudge, the inventor of the Time Travel Unit. He survived the Hindenburg disaster in 1937, but if the Hindenburg doesn’t arrive over Lakehurst, New Jersey, he dies somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean along with all of the other passengers.”

  He closed his eyes and breathed slowly as he continued, “If the Time Travel Unit isn’t invented, all sorts of chaos will break loose. All the missions we have gone out on will have not happened, and history will wander off-course over and over again.”

  He opened his eyes wide and looked at Bill. “So you see why we have to send back a proven person with the aviation credentials that John Brand has.”

  Bill sat back in his chair. “Wow! What do your computers predict will happen if Mudge doesn’t survive?”

  “That’s the scary part. When the council queried the computer, it didn’t respond at all. They think there’s no way the computer can predict the outcome because the changes would be so vast.”

  Bill saw that the stress plus the atmosphere was draining his future grandson. He stood and said to Edmund, “Go back and tell them it’ll be fine. John Brand is the right choice for this job. He’ll fix it so don’t worry. Now, let’s get you back to a healthier environment, young man.”

  He helped Edmund out of the easy chair and walked him to the door. Bill patted the younger man’s shoulder and said, “You going to be all right?”

  The man from the future smiled weakly. “I’ll be fine. And I’ll tell the council they can relax. The mission is in good hands.” They hugge
d and Edmund went out the door and back to 2066.

  Bill closed the door behind him and walked quickly to the phone.

  John Brand was in his office. On his desk was a photograph of himself and Mr. Osloe. As far as anyone knew, it was just a picture of John and a friend. Very few knew that Mr. Osloe was an alien, an alien who snatched a flying saucer from the secret base known as Area 51. As for the UFO sighting in Central Park that day, the guys in black passed around the story that a movie was being made in the Park that depicted a Flying saucer.

  The offices of Aerospace Technology Weekly where John worked had been under a lot of pressure lately from various government agencies to let them talk to John about Mr. Osloe. The magazine was planning to run the photos the alien had given to John. The agencies were unaware of the pictures so John knew as soon as they were published he would be off their list of favored reporters invited to functions. John had written the story but had left out the most intriguing part; the time travels section. No, he thought, can’t write about that. The guys with the dark glasses would be all over The 1800 Club.

  His phone rang and John answered, “Aerospace Technology, John Brand speaking.”

  The voice on the other end said, “Hey John, It’s Bill Scott. I know there’s no meeting tonight, but I wonder if you can stop by?

  John sat back and put his feet up on his desk. “Hi, Bill, how’re you doing? Don’t know if I can make it tonight, I’m supposed. . .”

  Bill interrupted. “Remember what you said about ‘another trip’? Well, I have one for you, and it’s a doozy! Believe me when I say it’s ‘you’ all the way, and it’s super hot. Super hot! Got to talk to you soonest, John.”

  John quickly sat up straight. He pulled his chair closer to the desk and covered the telephone mouthpiece so he wouldn’t be overheard. “If it’s that hot, I’ll be there.”