The Portal At The End Of The Storm (Quantum Touch Book 6)

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The Portal At The End Of The Storm (Quantum Touch Book 6) Page 22

by Michael R. Stern


  “I have to leave,” said the chief. “I'll have my guys keep driving by.”

  “Then call me in the morning, Brian. I'll fill you in if we find out more.”

  “If you do, call me tonight. Anytime. If I don't see you again, Mr. Gilbert, good luck.”

  The possibility hit home, to both Nat and me. “Thanks, Brian. For everything. But I think you'll see me again. Me, not the other guy.”

  When he left, Nat had another question in her eyes, but I skipped past the emotion. For the present. “You're done for now, Ash,” she said, looking at her cell. “No storms until the middle of the night.” I wasn't sure if that had more than one meaning.

  I expected her to start bombarding me with questions as we headed home, but she told me not to talk, she wanted to think. I had the paperclipped printout and had marked the last place with a pencil. A lot of information had been collected in just a few minutes and not talking made it easier to begin sifting through it. One thing stood out for me. Seeing Fritz again made me happy. But if we could change things back, would I remember any of what had happened. Or … I glanced at Natalie.

  Before I could get my coat off, she said, “You're really going home, aren't you?” Two tracks lined her cheeks. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close. I didn't say anything.

  Chapter 34

  Fritz

  “ASH, ASHLEY. WAIT.” I woke up. On a cot. In a jail cell. The strangest, most realistic dream I'd ever had lingered as I regained my bearings. Dawn had to be close. My brain grappled with the arrival of my friend, missing so long, and trying to reconstruct the conversation. Where were we? Had he actually found me?

  MICKEY TOLD ME not to expect any miracles on the first day. Most of what they did would be procedural. He had asked for a jury trial, so we had that ahead. The government, no one, had any hard evidence, no gun, no DNA, nothing. I added “waiting” to my daily exercise regimen.

  Two cops escorted me to the defense table at the front of a packed courtroom. Flynn sat in the first row, next to a nun. Kate smiled at me. The first day lasted a half hour, with jury selection to start the next morning. I glanced back as I reached the side door. She nodded. Twenty minutes later, a crowd blocked my cell door.

  “What's going on?” I asked Mickey. “I need to talk to you.”

  “Later. Now you have a visitor.” I focused on the group of people, and said, “Hi, Mel.” She looked back attempting to draw a memory of when she had seen me before. Without another step, my visitor's identity had been clarified.

  As I walked into my cell, he stood, hands to his side, and a Secret Service agent between us. “Mr. President, nice to see you. I'd offer you refreshments, but I haven't been shopping lately.”

  “Mr. Furst, I'm here out of curiosity. But now that I see you, you seem familiar. Like we've met before.”

  “Sir, I assure you that we haven't met. Not you and I, not here.”

  He rubbed behind his left ear, as he met my look. “I'm not sure exactly what that means, but I think you have a story to tell, more than what the newspapers report.”

  “You think that, do you?”

  “I do. And I'd like to hear it.”

  “Mr. President, you have more things to be concerned about than me. And my story is keeping me here, with all the comforts of home.” I smiled. I'd seen his expressions before, but I didn't know this man. He frowned, trying to guess if I were kidding. “I've been informed that my testimony will either put me in a mental institution or prison. Telling you denies me my day in court.”

  “Can you time travel?”

  He asked, not willing to banter with me. I glanced at Mickey, his unreadable look offering no help. In my previous life, I wouldn't hesitate to talk to this man. “My lawyer should say something at this point, but since he's being quiet, let me say this. You and I are surrounded by witnesses, all of whom are subject to the rules of the court, and as witnesses, can testify against me. I'm protected against self-incrimination by the Fifth Amendment. As you know. So let's make a deal. I'll tell you my story, one on one, if you pardon me now, so I can return to my life.”

  “Without any information? You expect me to agree?”

  “I do. And here's why. If time travel is possible, you want to know if you might make use of it to make the world a safer place. You recognize that manipulating time is also a danger. Both options exist side by side. You wouldn't be here unless you thought I was for real.” Our eyes locked while he fashioned his response. I didn't wait long. He stood up, reached out to shake my hand, and thanked me for my time. As he turned to leave, I said, “I'll take that as a 'no'. Too bad. It's a fascinating story.”

  “I'll read about it.”

  When the crowd finally left, I told Mickey that I wanted to see Kate. He told me that wasn't possible now. Especially after talking to the president as I had.

  “Did you expect me to tell him?”

  “You were a bit rude. And aggressive.”

  “You didn't say anything. So I figured I had nothing to lose. In my other world, we were friends. I saved his life more than once. We actually time traveled together. But I'm stuck here now, and I don't relish spending my life in jail. I had to take a shot.”

  He shrugged. “It doesn't matter now. We start with the jury tomorrow. Be ready.”

  Chapter 35

  Ashley

  THE THUNDERSTORMS COOPERATED. We were soaked again before we reached the door. Still trying to understand all the connections, our plan, meticulous in its detail, was about to be tested. Tony met us at school after dark. Brian Shaw waited again in the parking lot.

  Tony had fashioned a buffer to connect to the door, a description I'd given him. With the generator hooked up, I poked my head in to ascertain my location. Same place as yesterday. Confident I had more time, I entered the pub.

  “Back again, Mr. Gilbert?” the lady bartender asked. “He's in court today.” She handed me the morning paper. The picture of the courthouse and the headline of “The Time Traveler's Trial” jumped off the front page.

  “Can I have this?” She said to take it. “Thanks, Jane.” I ran out and through the portal in seconds.

  “Did you find him again?” Nat asked.

  “Not yet. But this will get me closer.” I showed them the picture. “I'll go here. Find out where he's being held, follow him and get another picture.”

  “Will the portal stay open that long?”

  “Let's hope so.”

  I sat in the back of the courtroom, the portal well-hidden in the shrubbery. When Fritz fell, it looked like he'd fainted. I hoped that my stay would shorten, that the judge would end early. The little bald guy sitting with Fritz had spoken to the judge, who nodded. Fritz sat, his head hardly moving, as the jurors were selected quickly. Both the prosecutor and Fritz's lawyer asked if anyone had a problem with time-travelers. The judge banged his gavel to stop the laughter.

  I left the courtroom, and followed the handful of men carrying cameras. I asked one where they would take Fritz. Only a few blocks down, he told me. When he asked me what my interest was, I said I wrote science fiction and I could smell a best seller here. I asked his name and told him I might make him a character. He offered a ride, and with the clouds looking full, I accepted.

  He parked in a perfect spot, directly across the street. Old trees lined the one side and the jail building looked like many municipal buildings from the '50s, red brick fronted by concrete steps and patios. I snapped off a couple of photos, as the thunder rumbled, and then headed back to the courthouse to beat the rain.

  “I found him,” I said, removing my suit jacket. The rain had fallen in buckets a block before I reached the portal. My shoes were soaked and muddy. “He's at the jail.”

  “Now what?” asked Nat.

  “I'll get him out later tonight. Just like we planned.”

  Chapter 36

  Fritz

  THE COURTROOM BEGAN buzzing when they brought me in. Kate wasn't among the spectators, at least not that
I could see. Flynn stood just behind the defense table in the front row. No one reacted when I stepped over to him.

  “Where's Kate?”

  “Working. She has a business to run, and a new cook to train. We had a visitor yesterday. A guy says he knows you. Name of Gilbert.” All of a sudden, I was surrounded, being lifted to a chair. As I refocused, Flynn's sharp eyes burned into mine.

  “Are you all right?” Mickey asked. “What happened?”

  “I don't know. A little dizzy, I guess.” But I did know. I wasn't dreaming. Ash had found me. The rest of the time in court passed in a blur as I concentrated on what his presence might mean.

  Not long after returning to my cell, my visitors arrived. Flynn pulled up the chair and Mickey sat on the cot.

  “Sit down, Russ.”

  “I've been sitting all day.”

  “Sit down. I need to tell you what happened, quietly.” Flynn pointed to the spot next to the lawyer. “Who's Gilbert?”

  “A friend from my old life.”

  “Old life. So he's a time traveler? Kevin said he vanished through what he said looked like a neon doorway.”

  “That's the portal. I thought I dreamed it. When did Kevin see him?”

  “Last evening. Early. He came into the pub looking for a newspaper. A story about you. You really are a time-traveler?”

  “You didn't believe me?”

  Mickey held up his hand to stop Flynn, as Tim McNamara stopped outside the cell. “There's a guy wanting to see you, Russ. Says he's your lawyer. Ashley something.”

  Heads swiveled from the bars to me. I looked at Mickey hoping he would have the right response. “He's from my office, Tim. Would you bring him here?”

  “You know this is irregular. You shouldn't be here either. I'll take him to a visitor's room. Then I'll come get all of you.”

  When Tim could no longer hear, Flynn asked, “What's he want? What's he doing here?”

  “I haven't seen him in more than eight years. How would I know?”

  “Is he here to get you out?”

  “Flynn, he can't just walk me out the door. I don't know what he has in mind until I speak to him.”

  “Are you going home?”

  Home. I thought about the word. Four letters. Vague faces. At that moment, I wasn't sure I wanted to leave here. I had a new life. I'd dismissed my past, never expecting to return. “Flynn, I don't know.”

  Tim handcuffed me to the table. Ashley sat across from me in a blue suit, white shirt and a red, white and blue paisley tie. That tie proved he was the genuine article. He eyed my companions.

  Mickey said, “Don't shake my hand. You're supposed to know us.”

  “Who are you?” Ashley asked.

  “I'm his lawyer, and Flynn here is a friend. We don't have much time, so tell us what you want.”

  “I'm here to find out how to undo the changes in time that Fritz set in motion when he came here. I need to get him out of here so we can go home.”

  “You're just gonna walk him out?” Flynn sneered. “Are you nuts?”

  “Here's my plan.” He looked only at me. “I need a picture of you in your cell, so I know where to go. I have a phone for you. Take the shot and send it to my phone. I'll print it and get you. Then we can figure out what to do. I'm in a parallel universe, too. We need to find a way to stop you from shooting the Kopplers.”

  “I have no place to put the phone. Give it to Mickey.”

  “If I take it,” he said, “I'm an accomplice to your escape. I won't do that.”

  Flynn said, “Kick off your shoes. Tim will let you put them on. Palm the phone and slip it into your sock. Now, let's get out of here. When we stand up, slip him the phone. Russ, kick off your shoes. Do it now.”

  Mickey signaled they were ready to leave, and as they stood, Tim came in and released the handcuffs. He looked at the shoes and told me to carry them. With the shoes in my left hand, and Tim standing on my right, I reached over to shake hands. Ashley dropped the phone in a shoe.

  Chapter 37

  Fritz

  I SAT IN THE quiet and waited. The ugly paint job on the cinder blocks jogged a memory from years past. My old classroom. I'd sent the selfie to Ashley. But who knew what would happen, when he might come. And then what? I wasn't ready to go back. Not yet. But not being in jail appealed to my comfort genes.

  While I waited, the anticipation of leaving fought with the desire to stay. Not in a cell, but here, with people who had become friends, almost family. I thought about the difficult decisions made by the millions who had chosen to leave their homes over the centuries seeking a new life as immigrants to a new world, America and elsewhere. Funny, but I hadn't thought those things when I had decided to end the Koppler conspiracy. I stepped through the portal from one world, expecting to step back where I'd left, and then go find General Lee. That plan hadn't quite worked.

  I wrote a note with my marker, thanking my hosts for their hospitality and telling them to let the president know that time travel was real. I'd give them something to remember me by. I even autographed it. All my random thoughts and time wasting activities diverted my imagining about going back. If Ashley did show up again, I'd have barely a moment to decide.

  Lights out. Evening had gone, night descended in full gloom. Only some of the lights went out. I'd only seen pictures, but thought about what life must be like in the northerly countries when the sun never set. Did they have blackout curtains? Did they ever get real sleep? More random speculation while I waited. Totally awake.

  I had only a sense of how much time had passed when the familiar rectangle light lit my cell, leaving almost no room for me to stand up. Ash poked his head in, and whispered for me to come through. I left the note on my pillow and stepped into the hallway on the other side.

  When the door clicked shut, I looked up and down the corridor. Before I could utter a word, Ash hugged me while Nat and Tony looked on. “Let's get out of here. We have a lot to talk about,” he said.

  “Wait, Ash. Give me a minute. I haven't been here for eight years. Let's go in and sit down.”

  Nat said, “You must be Fritz,” as she extended her hand.

  “Yeah, I still am, Nat. Hi Tony.”

  “I'll explain it all, but not here.” Besides the uncomprehending stares, I rubbed the ugly yellow wall by the door. “Fritz, you haven't met Nat or Tony, or rather they haven't met you before. We're in a parallel dimension. This isn't home.”

  “I need to go back, just not to jail. I have people I need to see.”

  “I can get you back, but not now. Trust me on this. We've been here too long tonight already.” Like my most recent lodging, I had no place I had to be, so I agreed. After eight years of adjusting and adapting, I followed them out into the rainy night. Sitting at the curb, a police car discouraged the curious, as well as overly hormonal teenagers. The driver stepped out.

  “Chief, this is Fritz Russell. Fritz, meet Brian Shaw.”

  I looked at the cop, then stared. “Brian? What happened to Jim?”

  Shaw answered immediately, shaking his head. “Ashley, I wasn't sure I believed you. Fritz, is it? Nice to meet you.”

  I wanted to get away from the weirdness. McNamara's summoned, an ideal spot just then. Safe and familiar. “Ash, get me out of here.”

  We climbed into a strange car. Nat sat in the passenger's seat, and Tony sat next to me. The tennis courts and open fields behind the school, dark and empty, flashed years of memories through my head.

  “Where's the Mustang?”

  “Home, I hope. Fritz, I'll explain it all once we're home.”

  “This is just so weird.”

  “You should be in my shoes.” He was looking at me in the mirror. The police car led the way down streets I had forgotten.

  Ashley drove past the parking police car and the yellow Beetle and into his driveway. Before he got out, he turned to me. “I'm glad you're here. You didn't make it easy.”

  “Good to see you, too.” I could visualize
the books I'd left on his desk. “I didn't expect to see you again.”

  “Come on. We've got work to do. Then we can fill in the blanks.”

  “Ash, I want to go back where you found me. I have unfinished business.”

  “Let's figure this out first. I can't get home from here now. You can at least help me. And don't forget, you promised to be my best man.”

  I'd forgotten about that. I climbed from the back seat and followed the rest into the house. The white-walled starkness made me squint. No mess, no book piles, a black stain on the old blue carpet spoke in stark contrast to my instant memory of his living room.

  “I like what you've done to the place.”

  “It's not mine, but I'll get to that.”

  Nat asked if anyone wanted a drink. I told her I did, and asked if she had any Irish whiskey. The rest asked for soda. When she delivered the glasses, everyone sat, with me as their focus.

  “For more than eight years, I've been wandering in the portal. I ended up in D.C. where you found me.”

  “You took off at Thanksgiving,” Ashley said. “I've been looking for you ever since. You've only been gone about four months.”

  “I've lived every day of eight years, Ashley. I hope you'll forgive me, but I have a lot more adjusting to do than you.”

  The man I had known as Jim Shaw asked what I'd done that changed everything. I told them I'd planned to shoot all three Koppler brothers to stop them from ruining lives if left on their own. When I entered the portal, two of them were already dead. If they were all killed, I figured that would bring back all those they had killed, and prevent them from carrying out the damage done by the Caballeros. I should have known that I'd turn things upside down, but I hadn't thought it all through.

  They listened as I told a brief history of my time in the portal, as if they knew all about me. With a police officer sitting and staring, I carefully sidestepped an admission that I'd shot anybody. I told of my travels from coast to coast, using my cooking skills to find work, what books I'd read. My pointed discussion of time-travel literature and physics generated the desired effect—boredom. By midnight, the stifled yawns morphed to full-blown groans of fatigue. Although my energy had drained, their departure would let me talk to Ashley alone.

 

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