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

by Michael R. Stern

  “Hasn't been fired at all.”

  Ashley grabbed my shirt front again. “Did you hear that? You did what we planned. You tried. I stopped you. Now we have to find a way to get home.”

  “Stop yelling, Ash. You'd think I'd killed somebody.”

  On the way back to Ashley's house, my left cheek burned. I gently touched it, but the sting held on. He saw, and said he had to slap me to get me back.

  “Back where?” I asked.

  “You don't remember?”

  “All I remember is stepping into the portal, and you trying to choke me in the hallway.”

  “Interesting. Do you recall our plan?”

  I wanted to say yes, but hesitated, trying to recall what I'd gone into the portal to do. I could see the three men, and I tensed as my anger rose.

  “You stopped me from killing them. I wish you hadn't.”

  “Listen to yourself. The only way to get home is to reverse exactly that. You started this by killing them. Two of them were dead already. We may have the third to deal with when we get home.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Fritz, you need to get a grip. Richter, Richemartel and Thomas Koppler are the same person. You killed James Koppler. Jim Shaw killed the other brother. Have you forgotten all we did with the portal?”

  “I think we need to talk about it, about home. It's all a blur. But it's been so long ago my memory hasn't caught up. Ash, going home is going to be hard.”

  When I said that, my emotions swirled, like a full bottle being dumped in the sink. Living in this world offered nothing. And what my former life had available did nothing to make me want to be there. Ashley turned into the driveway and sighed before opening the car door. He told me to come inside. Our long talk had waited, and the time for it had now arrived. Natalie went to get dinner and would be back soon.

  “I want her to hear this, Fritz. She'll take notes so you can keep reading when I'm not here. Nothing can be normal again until we get there. Both of us.”

  “Fine. If you think it will help.”

  Once at the table he poured us each a shot of whiskey. I took a couple of sips to calm myself, but not enough to dull understanding. He began with when we'd first met. The only interruption, Nat and dinner, didn't stop his monologue. Nat served the food, but had her pad filling almost before she hit the chair.

  Lights burned into the early morning. Ashley had introduced me to someone I had forgotten, who lived in an alien world. Me. Slowly, as he detailed an alternative timeline, I began to remember. I'd known all this, of course, for eight years, yet each new story elicited memories, feelings and images that could have been a movie, a novel, or a dream.

  “Ash, I know everything, but it's like I have some kind of a cloud veiling my memory, but only from going into the portal today.”

  “Good. At least you remember. If you do, and you lost it when you planned to kill them, then the trauma from your original entry re-activated by repeating the mission, the reason for doing it. Do you remember what happened to me when we rescued the president in Geneva? Dr. Dutton?”

  I had to admit that dredging up memories took me longer than either of us expected. The memories were like the bottom of a three-layer cake, trying to get through the filling, the top layers and the icing. They existed, but were mixed with each bite, hard to separate.

  “I get it. I burned my past in another universe. Until now, my memories weren't real. Thanks, Ash. Now we have to figure out what's next.”

  “Fritz, I've been over all the entries, especially the ones into the other dimension. Other than getting home, this is the last obstacle. We've missed something. I don't know what it is. We're solving an equation for an unknown. “X” equals what?”

  Chapter 46

  Ashley

  WE'D REACHED MEMORIAL Day, Fritz and I, marooned in lives not our own. Every waking minute, we talked or thought about how to get across to our world. Even puttering in the yard, one of us had notes at the deteriorating picnic table. Natalie came and went, mostly running errands for us, reserved and reluctant to interject a comment about an outcome she hoped wouldn't occur.

  With less than a month of school remaining, I had avoided extra visibility, with the kids or the teachers. Sandy had bluntly asked if I had started using drugs again. When I asked her why she thought that, she said I'd been aloof and uninvolved. I said I had a mission to complete, and then I'd be gone. In spite of what she'd seen, she shook her head.

  George cornered me on Thursday, as June began and the combination of spring fever and senioritis spread virally through the halls and into each class.

  “Ashley, I want to let you know that you've been named “Teacher of the Year.”

  “I'm flattered. But I'm sure you can find any number of others who are more deserving.”

  “I agree, but I didn't choose you. The faculty voted, with some assistance, I understand, from Nicole and Rachel.”

  I grinned at the arm-twisting I could imagine. “Thanks, George. Give it to the runner-up.”

  “I can't. You won unanimously. The teachers saw those two troublemakers and what you made them into, and voted as they were told. I have that information from multiple sources.” Then he laughed, and slapped my arm. “I'm glad you haven't time-traveled away.”

  That evening, with another late storm on the horizon, Nat and Tony joined us for a quick dinner. Finding Lee at Appomattox provided our next challenge. We discussed which books to use.

  “You said Lee would meet Fritz there,” Natalie reminded me. “If Lee saw you at Appomattox, you can't meet him if you don't go.”

  “I still don't understand what he can tell us that fits this puzzle. Which dimension will we be in?”

  “From all I can figure,” Fritz said, “Lee met you in this world, so this is the one we need to be in. But that's not a problem now.”

  “Maybe.”

  Appomattox. Where this nightmare began. I found my copy of the book Fritz originally used and thumbed the pages to Lee's arrival at the McLean house. Fritz and I planned to go together and see if we could arrange to meet the general for a private conversation. We needed to be visible to him, and obscured from other eyes.

  Nat invited Brian Shaw to join us. She explained that if we were successful, we might not return. Tony hooked the generator to the door to give us an escape if this plan didn't work. As I stepped to the door, Natalie grabbed my arm.

  “You need to tell Brian what to do if your old self comes back. Her eyes told a story of their own, one that had nothing to do with Shaw, other me, or Lee. Tears tracked her cheeks.

  “Don't cry. You have a different future than you think. If this works, you may not even remember these last six months.” I circled her with my arms, and pulled her tightly in. I didn't dare kiss her properly, so I pecked her cheek. “When we step in, the door will close but the portal will remain open. If we're coming back, one of us will let you all know within an hour. Don't leave until at least then. Brian, if we don't return, expect that another version of me, the one you know, will likely be back. You remember what you said to me when I first got here?” He nodded, recognizing the possible finality of our relationship. “Tell him the same story. He'll be disoriented, and may tell you that he believes he time-travelled. Tell him what's happened here. I can only speculate, but I have a feeling he'll straighten out.”

  I thanked Tony, hugged Natalie again, and pulled the door open. Fritz led me through the woods to the far side of a house, around which horses waited and soldiers milled, all eyes wandering to any movement or sound near the front door. When the meeting finished, Lee mounted Traveller and with hat in hand, returned the salute of the blue-clad men who had removed their hats. When he turned to go, Fritz pulled me to the road, the exact location we needed. Lee spotted us, nodded his recognition, and with his hands on the reins, gently waggled his fingers, pointing for us to follow.

  We walked at a leisurely pace, not wanting to draw attention, until no one at the house could see us. The
n we sped up until we enter the woods. Waiting just out of sight, to the left of the road, Lee sat on a tree stump.

  “Good to see you again, General,” Fritz said.

  “And you, Mr. Russell. Mr. Gilbert, I see my visions have been real.”

  “As I told you, General, we're in a different dimension, a parallel universe.”

  “So there are multiples of me. Do I win the war in any of them?”

  “We don't know, but for some reason, we were supposed to meet you here. At Appomattox. Do you know why?” Fritz asked.

  I added, “Can you help us get home, to our real world?”

  “I'm afraid I am unable to tell you more than what my visions have shown me.”

  “Other than meeting us here, would you tell us what more you've seen?”

  “Straight down this road, my men await me. They will want orders and my report. I must make haste. Follow me, if you will, and keep to the road. I will send horses for you. We will have opportunity to speak in a short while. I'll prepare a pot of tea for your arrival.”

  Chapter 47

  Linda

  ERIC'S SPRING VACATION began yesterday, according to the MIT website's student calendar. I'd called Jane and asked her to let the president know. I'd also emailed Natalie and asked her to tell Tony. Lois McAllister visited the bike shop earlier and I asked her to let George know we could all be at the school off and on during Eric's time off. Once more, with all the pieces in place, we waited for Eric.

  On Saturday evening, Mom told me to sit and watch a movie, or take TJ for a walk because, she said, the carpet couldn't take the beating any longer. I'd expected to hear from Eric, or Jane, or at least Lois by now. So I raced full speed to the door when the bell rang.

  Standing on the top step, Mel Zack reached for the door handle. I touched the handle, like Fritz did with the portal, and three more cars pulled up and parked, and a red Mustang pulled into the driveway.

  “Mom, we have lots of company.”

  “Wonderful. Ask them if anyone's hungry. My lasagna is done.”

  When Eric hopped up the steps, just ahead of George and Lois, he had a smile for me. The first real crowd in almost a year, I sat them in the dining room.

  “Emily, good to see you again,” said the president, when Mom carried a pan in and set it on the table.

  “Hello, Mr. President. You better be hungry. You all better be. Natalie, dear, will you help me. Jane, get drinks, Linda set the table.”

  “I can help too,” said the president.

  “You stay there. You're the second guest of honor.” She ducked around the corner. Plates and silverware clanked and clinked, glasses pinged, as Emily cut the lasagna. As fast as the plates arrived, Mom had a portion on each, large enough for two appetites. Once everyone had a plate and a drink, eating began in earnest, except Mom, who looked from plate to plate.

  “Linda, as usual, this is delicious. Maybe better than the last time.” The president looked at me and grinned, then filled another forkful. When I started to speak, Mom tapped my hand. Like a crew of mutes, only the scratch of silverware on stoneware preceded the gentle melody of enjoyed food. After two or three tastes, each eater complimented me on my latest masterpiece.

  “I didn't make it. This is Mom's version of my recipe. She made a couple of changes, and I think it's better than mine.”

  “Emily, it's fantastic,” the president said. “Sorry, Linda, but I think you're right. Not by much, but she's got you beat.”

  “I'm glad you like it. I never appreciated how much work Linda did to make one. Now I do.” Mom blew me a kiss. “But now that you're fed, it's time to hear from our first guest of honor. Welcome home, Eric. What news?”

  “Let him finish, Mom. Those portions are enormous.”

  Tony said, “They were the exact right size. And anyone who can't eat it all, send it my way. Ms. Miller, Emily, this hit the spot. I'm glad I skipped lunch.”

  “How's the shop, Linda?” the president asked, giving a sideways glance at Eric's plate.

  “Still quiet. It'll get busy once the warm weather gets here. Or so I've been told.”

  Mom interrupted. “We can talk about that later. Eric, I'll wrap up what you have left, and I have some you can take home for your family, but let's get down to business. Tell us what you've found.”

  Eric laid his fork down and pushed his plate away. “I've opened my portal a few times now. I've bought all the books. I didn't find Mr. R or Mr. Gilbert, but I do know that they both went to the places, at least some of them. I only spoke to two people. The first, Orville Wright, told me that he and his brother had spoken to Mr. R and Mr. Gilbert, but that had been a while ago. Mr. President, Winston Churchill asked me to give you his greetings. He told me Mr. Gilbert had recently poked his head in, but he remembered meeting them both. So I know I'm on the right track. I think I need to use the school to fine tune my search.”

  “Then we should go now,” said George. “No one will question us if I'm there.”

  Eric said, “That's fine with me. But I have a list of all the variables I could think of. If it's okay, I'd like to use Mr. R's classroom, and I'd like to start where the portal first opened. Dr. Barclay said that Mr. Gilbert believed that Mr. R wanted to go see Robert E. Lee. So I want to go to when my class met him. Maybe Mr. R will be there. At Appomattox.

  A half hour later, Eric had everything set up. George brought buckets from the cafeteria to fill the pool. Eric selected paperclips from Fritz's desk drawer, no longer containing a lock.

  “The desk may not work, Eric,” Tony said.

  “It's still electrified. Mr. McAllister, do you have the key?”

  “I've been carrying the master since Election Day. It's not his key, but it will open all school desks. Ms. Sweeney hadn't yet left the day the lightning hit. Will that work?”

  “I won't know until I try.”

  George handed him the key, and he laid it in the drawer in front of where the lock should have been. He selected the necessary book from the bookcase, clipped the page, and everyone cleared the room. With the generator hooked up, Eric pulled the door open. To Fritz's classroom.

  I can't describe my disappointment, but I didn't have time to say a word.

  “Planes,” Tony said.

  “I can't help,” said the president.

  “We need a thunder storm,” said Eric. “I couldn't get through in my lab without them. Sorry. I thought we'd have the planes.”

  I asked the president if he had any ideas. He scrolled for numbers on his phone, dialed General Beech and explained the situation. The general said he would make a call and be back to us shortly.

  While we waited, we sat in Fritz's room. Eric described all he'd seen on his other portal trips. He said he avoided exposure, only looking in, not talking to anyone else. I asked if anything unusual caught his attention.

  “The scariest spots were Hitler and Dallas. Seeing Hitler and knowing what he would become, I wanted to get a gun and shoot him. The emotion surprised me, almost as if the portal gave me feelings I'd never had before. I opened the portal to Dealey Plaza, just as President Kennedy came around that corner. I watched and listened for shots. An echo amidst the screaming made it impossible to tell if more shots came from other places. Then I shut the door. When the shock wore off, I wiped my face. I'd been crying. That surprised me too.”

  Jane asked, “Do you think the portal influences our emotions?” Eric started to answer, then paused and nodded. He reminded us of his first conversation at Christmas. Jane repeated that he thought energy changed forms. All thoughts, including emotions, flowed through all dimensions. “If that's true, at least to some degree, our relationship to the portal is as strong as our relationship to each other. And maybe stronger between those we know best. That explains why you left, Linda, and also why you came back.”

  The president said, “Fritz and I went to see my mother, and we had no trouble making the connection, or convincing her I was her son.”

  “It may also
help to explain why it's been so easy to convince figures from the past that we're not really aliens,” Mom said. “When I met Ben Franklin, I felt like I'd known him for years. I can't explain it, but it's like the portal communicates its own good and bad, depending on where it opens.”

  The president's phone rang. The ringtone sounded like “Ready or Not.” I couldn't be sure. He grinned when I looked at him. The only part of the conversation we could hear lent promise to our wait. “That's good. Thanks, Jim.”

  He said the general had arranged for the pilots who had worked with us before to join our newest adventure. I wouldn't have picked that word. He said the general would make arrangements for special duty and would send phone numbers to text the pilots. But he couldn't put it together until tomorrow. The code word would be “history.”

  Eric said he'd be home all week, and he could be here early if we wanted to have a full day of trying. He said that he'd also checked the weather. The 10-day forecast called for possible storms later in the week.

  “That's good,” said the president. “I don't want to overuse our welcome.”

  For me, Sunday couldn't come soon enough. I invited everyone back for coffee and dessert, but only Jane and the McAllisters came. Eric said he wanted to check his notes and visit with his parents, but we agreed to meet at the school at ten the next morning.

  Chapter 48

  Jane

  I ENJOYED MY time with Linda on Saturday night. She acted like her old self again. And Emily kept us all laughing with her stories about Tim, Ben Franklin and life in general. I think she shocked Linda with a personality that had been disguised. I can't recall the number of times Linda said, “You never told me that.”

  When I got back to Ash's place, the hominess had fallen off a cliff. I hadn't been there for a few weeks, and unless Ash got back now, my new job limited my freedom of movement. My mother asked what I would do if Ashley wasn't home soon. I had told them about the portal and all its history because I needed to get her off my back. As always, the president helped, stopping by one weekend in February to get their oaths. My father has said repeatedly that the president's visit and our story would be a highlight of his life. No doubt.