“Yes, I’m sure it is. Tell me, can you direct me toward the hospital? I’m a bit new around here.”
“Oh, dear! Are you sick or something?”
“Oh, no! I’m looking to visit a friend, reason I’m in town. Don’t even know the name of the hospital.”
“Oh! Roper.”
“Pardon, Ma’am?”
“Roper. The name of the hospital is Roper. It’s just straight down that street about a fifteen or twenty-minute walk. You can’t miss it.”
“Why thank you, Ma’am. You certainly are kind.”
“You’re welcome, Sir,” she said. “But I’m not Ma’am. I’m Helen.”
“Helen! Thank you, Helen.”
“Again, you’re welcome. A man or woman?”
“Man or woman?”
“Yes. Is it a man or woman? Your friend you are visiting?”
“Oh!” He had to think a second. “A woman.”
“Oh,” the girl replied quietly.
“Actually, she isn’t a friend. She is my aunt, but she has been more like a friend all my life.”
“Oh! That’s nice. I hope she’s okay.”
“I’m sure she is. Well, I must be going. Really nice talking with you.”
“Me too. Anytime.”
He turned and walked across the street and then looked back her way. She was leaning on her broom. He waved and said loud enough for her to hear. “Thank you for the directions.”
She returned the wave. “What is your name?”
“Roark,” he said and tipped his hat again. “Nice to meet you, Helen.”
“Nice to meet you too, Roark,” she said and then leaned on her broom.
As he rounded the corner out of her sight, he considered returning to see her again sometime. Nothing serious though, he reminded himself. Just a little female company. Nothing wrong with that.
Roark looked at the car parked at the curb in front of the hospital called Roper. He was sure it was the same one in which the man left. A doctor. He certainly was a doctor. He looked up at the hospital and considered what to do next, how to take advantage of this opportunity. Doctors are rich.
A nurse came out of the hospital doors, down the steps, and then turned toward where Roark was standing. His first instinct was to step away, off the sidewalk, become unnoticeable. But, instead, he had an idea. He wished he looked better, had shaved and washed up. He straightened his posture, then said to the nurse when she got closer, “Good afternoon, Miss.”
“Good afternoon, Sir,” she said and started to walk on past.
“May I ask you a question?” Roark added.
She stopped and turned to him. “Why sure.”
“Is this a good hospital?”
“I certainly think it is, Sir. I’ve worked here three years.”
“Three years!” Roark said. He fumbled for the words, not sure what else he should ask. “I guess you would know then.”
“Yes, Sir. I guess I would. You have a good day.” She started to turn away.
“Ah, Miss. The doctor who drives this car...” What to ask? Quickly... quickly. “... is he a good doctor?”
The nurse turned back and looked at the car Roark was pointing to. She stared at the car for such a long time Roark thought he had made a mistake. Maybe she thought he wanted to steal it. He didn’t even know how to drive. Where to go? Where to run? What to do?
“Oh! You mean Doctor Bronson.” Her face lit up. “Oh, sure. He is an excellent doctor. Do you need to see him?”
“No, no... ah... you see, my sister. She’s sick and I heard he would be a good doctor for her to go see. But I’m sure he’s really busy with doctoring plus his family and all.”
“Oh, my, no,” she said. “Oh, well, yes. He is sometimes busy, but that’s because he is very dedicated. But he has no family, a bachelor you see.”
“Oh! Well, thank you very much, Nurse. I’m sure my sister will be pleased with what I’ve found out.”
“You’re welcome, Sir,” she said and then turned and walked away.
Roark stood for a while looking around then reminded himself to keep moving. Standing in one place too long would get him noticed. He started walking back up Calhoun Street in the direction from which he had come.
A rich bachelor doctor. Maybe a gold mine. Maybe he could become rich enough himself that he would not have to steal any more, maybe move to Florida where it’s always warm. He thought about the woman, Helen, and wondered if she was still out on her stoop.
Chapter 31
Tuesday ~ September 3, 1987
“Hi, Anne. Your dad here. I tried getting a hold of you before I left for London but never got in touch. I just got back in – a long six weeks. I should have called from London but things being what they were, I never got the chance. I’ve had no messages or mail saying I have a grandchild. Is he being stubborn? Call me. I’m not doing much right now except acting as an occasional fill-in for other profs. No classes of my own until January. Would like to come down and see you two, or is it three now? Spend a couple of weeks. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll call again this evening. Love you all.”
When the phone rang, James had just flipped his eggs. He was still staring at the answering machine long after the end of Doctor Hair’s message, the spatula dripping grease onto the counter. The toast popped up and returned his attention to the task. He scowled at the hard eggs, dropped them on the plate, applied butter and jam to the toast, and then sat at the table. He nibbled on the toast and wondered what to do, if he should do anything. So far, in nearly a month and a half, Steven had been able to ward off or avoid every inquiry or curious speculation as to Anne’s whereabouts. The story was that after the baby was born, she and Elizabeth Anne went to Boston to visit family while Steven worked on a major government project. The only family she had in Boston was her father. Now Steven had a problem.
James chewed on the overcooked eggs and considered calling Jerry. He conferred privately with him a few weeks back after Steven and Jerry had words over bringing Anne’s father in. In early August Steven and Howard hit a roadblock, a hole in Steven’s theory. They had been battling it for a week when Jerry recommended calling Doctor Hair. It just happened to be a day that James had paid one of his visits.
“I’d have to clear it through the committee first,” Jerry said, “but I’m sure that won’t be a...”
“NO!” Steven yelled. “I said before that I would not get him involved. Don’t even think about it or bring it up again.”
“It just makes sense, Steven. He’s the only other person who understands what...”
“Are you God damn deaf, Mister Blaylock? NO!” Steven stormed out of the conference room.
Work continued. Progress did not.
James didn’t worry too much about the rate of progress because he knew from history that they well solve it. He also knew from history that they were still nearly three months away. But, how does it get solved? Do Steven and Howard work it out before Doctor Hair is brought into it? He looked at the answering machine. Or does Doctor Hair force himself into it? One way or the other, Steven is now going to have to deal with his father-in-law.
The conference James and Jerry had after the blowup with Steven was to determine if Jerry should call Doctor Hair. They decided to wait, unaware that he wasn’t in the country. Now he wasn’t only in the country, but available for the next four months, and he wanted to know about his daughter and grandchild.
Don’t interfere, his inner voice told him. Let it work itself out. He ate the toast, dumped half the eggs down the disposal and then picked up the phone.
Jerry Blaylock’s office was little more than a large closet in the corner of the lab, with a window to the lab, and a door that was seldom closed. There was just enough room for the desk, three chairs, a small table and a file cabinet. One could not easily get around the desk with the file cabinet open or someone sitting in one of the visitor’s chairs. Steven and Howard occupied the two visitors’ chairs while Jerry sat b
ehind his desk listening to the explanation of why their latest surefire solution to the insurmountable problem might work. Thomas stood in the doorway, leaning against the door jam. His arms were crossed and he was staring at the side of Steven’s head.
“We just won’t know for sure until we can actually apply power and run a hot test,” Steven said.
Jerry looked up at Thomas.
“I can’t move any faster than I am. We’re practically rebuilding this thing from the ground up. The schedule is that by the seventeenth we’ll have conventional power and on October fifth be ready to start going hot again. As it is it’s all I can do to keep those dates from slipping.”
“You’ve had over a God damn month already,” Steven flared up, bending halfway around to face Thomas. “It doesn’t look like shit’s being done.”
“And you haven’t been doing anything but scribbling on chalk boards for almost six weeks? I can’t just throw it all together with chewing gum and rubber bands so you can test out another lame brain theory to fix a problem you created to begin with!”
Steven jumped to his feet and then Jerry stood and put his arms out, palms down. “Hold on! Sit down, Steven. Cool off time here.”
“God damn it, Jerry. It’s stressful enough without this asshole –”
“Thomas! Cool off. You’re both out of line and you both know it.” Jerry waited a few seconds for tempers to ease. “Everyone is doing as much as they can. You’re right, Steven, that Thomas could put this back together a little quicker, but I won’t let him. We, all seven of us, agreed on this time table based on a number of factors, not the least of which is safety. Not only for us, but also for your wife and daughter. Certainly we could makeshift something to run your theory, but that would for sure shift the schedule considerably, and the test might be run under less than ideally safe conditions. Paramount right now, I believe, is constructing the power structure to handle double what we anticipate it needs. After that, you will have free reign to run all the tests you want, for as long as it takes...”
“... or until the money runs out,” Thomas injected.
Jerry gave him a hard look. “Right now the funds are still there. I managed to put together a couple reports that showed some success, but not enough that someone is going to want to pay a visit for a show and tell, at least not in the near future. That’s the reason, Thomas, for the tight scheduling, if you’ll remember. That visit is eventually going to happen. We just don’t know how long before it does. They’re throwing some pretty big money into an old beat-up navy barracks. When they show up we’re going to have to be ready to blow their socks off. If we don’t after this latest procurement of funds, I guarantee this program will be dead. If we rush too much and blow the system apart, this program is dead. Either way, you’ll never see them again, Steven. So, we have to do it right, and do it right as quickly and safely as we can.”
Steven slid back in his chair. Thomas remained leaning against the door jam, arms crossed, lips set. Howard sat between them, not moving a muscle or saying a word the entire time.
“Let’s say we call a truce here and get back to work.”
“No problem,” said Thomas and turned and walked away.
Steven stood. “Yeah. Back to work.” He squeezed past Howard. “Come on Howard. Let’s see if we can come up with another theory we can’t test.”
Howard sat still for a few seconds after Steven walked out and then slid forward in his chair. He put his hands on the desk. “It’s coming apart, Jerry. This team. It’s not just Steven and Thomas. You’ve seen it, I know. There’s tension inside Thomas’ group. Steven and I have been getting on each other’s nerves, too. If it continues on like this for another month, it may be us, not the system, which gets blown apart. In any case, if I were you, I’d be very nervous about going hot come October.” He stood. “I’m certainly glad I’m not you.” At the door he turned around. “‘Amazing Seven’ we called ourselves. We were definitely amazing when everything was going well. Not so amazing when the shit hit the fan.”
Jerry sat alone in his little closet office, thinking of the angry words between Thomas and Steven and the opinion presented by Howard, an opinion he privately held as well. “If I were you,” Howard had said. Every morning for the last week Jerry looked in his mirror and thought, “I wish I weren’t you. I wish I could dump this project and walk away.” It was a strange thought, a strange feeling. He never walked away from a challenge in his life. But, until now, he was only responsible for the performance of one person – Jerry Blaylock.
“We would like you to head up a team, Jerry,” the committee of three said after he arrived in the Washington, D.C. office following an eight-hour cross-country flight with two changeovers. He was eager and excited until he heard the purpose of the team. Then he thought it was a joke. But why would he be flown across the country to be presented with a joke by a senior Senator from Florida, a Congresswoman from New York, and a Navy Lieutenant. He sat through a five-hour interview with them after which they adjourned for the night. In the light of morning, they divulged to him what he was being hired for and offered him the position.
“The six man team is already assembled and getting settled in the Charleston, South Carolina area,” the Senator said. “There’s not a leader among them. They’re engineers and scientists.”
Once he was convinced they were serious and understood that there was real belief that it was plausible, there was no question in his mind he would accept. Still, he had to ask the one question.
“Why me? I’m a nobody.”
The Congresswoman smiled. “Frankly, Mister Blaylock, that’s one of the main reasons we choose you. This is an extremely secret endeavor. What we don’t need is someone of high profile attracting the attention of curious news hounds.”
“Well, that’s me. The last time I made the news was my birth announcement.”
“In addition, Mister Blaylock,” the Lieutenant said without making humor of his comment, “your military record has shown an ability to tackle and accomplish impossible tasks under a very high level of confidentiality. Basically, you have an impressive record and no one knows about it.”
“In other words,” said the US Senator from Florida, “you don’t talk.”
“The six are all young men, highly intelligent, who still think nothing is impossible. You, on the other hand, have had real experience doing the impossible. Your job is to keep the brains on track until the impossible is achieved.”
“What if success isn’t achieved?”
The three looked at each other. “We are a bit surprised you should ask such a question. That tells us you have doubt.”
“No! No!” Jerry corrected. “What I meant was, what if success isn’t achieved before the funds run out or you all decide to scrub the project? Let’s face it. Elections are coming up. Things change.”
“Let us assure you,” said the Senator, “that despite the government you see sitting in front of you, this project is privately funded, and the pockets are very deep. Also, we are in this for the long haul. All three of us are very committed. Should any or all of us wind up out of office, we’ll still be the committee you answer to. Nothing will change that except one of our deaths, and then you will answer to two. The project will not stop. We are quite confident that it will be successful.”
“These six,” Jerry said, “how intelligent are they?”
“Four have their doctorates from MIT. The others took a leave of absence on their doctorates to become part of this project.”
“I never finished college.”
“We are well aware of that. We feel that the differences in your education levels will be but a minor challenge for you to overcome.”
Jerry remembered walking out of that room scared as hell at what he just accepted, and excited as hell over being involved in something as futuristic as time travel. Now he knew he was in well over his head. And again wondered why he was chosen to begin with. He may as well have been appointed emperor of J
apan. He wasn’t a leader. He was a doer and for four years now he hadn’t done much of anything. These six men were self-motivated. They didn’t need him standing around telling them what to do. But that’s just what they did. They may be self-motivated but they always looked to him for guidance when they needed to meld together. He did keep them talking to each other. He had to admit, he did that well, and surprisingly he didn’t have to know that much about what they were doing. Just keep them communicating, track the job, manage the funds and rope in the problems.
The problems.
Until this, the problems had been few and easily remedied. This problem was large and then exasperated by the lack of communications, or was it more an increase in destructive communications? Jerry didn’t know how to deal with the sniping. He was good at keeping them talking; how does he keep them from name-calling?
And what about the committee? In the six weeks since that fateful day in July, he had heard from each of them. Normally, he receives a call from one of them once a quarter. And they never visited. He admitted to them they hit a snag but it was being worked out, which was the reason for the sudden jump in expenditures. They didn’t seem to be surprised or bothered by either, except for the increase in calls. They knew about the experiment with the baseball. Following that he justified increased expenses by claiming miscalculations in the power required to move larger objects. Certainly not a lie, but he didn’t allude to the fact that the larger object was a woman.
Jerry looked at the phone, the only one in the building. Should he call them now before things get totally out of hand? What would they do? Shut the program down? Fire him and bring in a real leader?
The phone rang and he jumped.
The committee, he thought. Sooner or later they are going to demand the full truth.
It rang again.
Maybe that’s the best thing. Maybe if the Navy Lieutenant stepped in, an obviously experienced leader, he could smooth things out.
It rang again.
They wouldn’t shut it down. Too much money invested at this point, and there had been success.
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