A spectacular view explained why the president had asked. The full expanse of the South Lawn resembled a green ocean. The National Mall and the Washington Monument were visible through the windows. “Wait until you see it when the sun goes down,” said the First Lady. Her contagious excitement, even after so many years, overcame my doubts.
While we looked around the Blue Room, the Secretary of Energy, and her two assistants, Kim and Tony, walked in. “Sorry we’re late, Mr. President,” said the secretary.
“Shall we sit?” the president suggested. The conversation was light and congenial. George’s wine was served and dinner was individual Beef Wellington with asparagus.
“This is delicious, Mr. President,” said Ashley. We all agreed.
“The salad greens come from our garden,” said the First Lady, pointing out the window.
“You can’t imagine how hard it is to keep from gaining weight around here,” said the president. “Thank goodness I have so many outside appearances that come with bad food.”
For dessert, we had pastries and ice cream molded into American flags, rippling stripes of peppermint and vanilla. “We have a full-time pastry chef and staff for small gatherings like this and full state dinners,” said the First Lady. “It’s amazing what they come up with. And you should see this place at Christmas.”
When the table had been cleared, James appeared with a folder, marked: “PRESIDENT’S EYES ONLY.” The president looked over the contents and suggested we all go out on the Portico. He said, “It bothers me that not all Americans can get the thrill I get when I go out here, especially at this time of day.”
After a few minutes to enjoy the view, the president asked everyone to follow him to the West Wing. We went to the Roosevelt Room, adjacent to the Oval Office. It was already set up for a presentation. While everyone found seats, the president thumbed through the folder, which he then handed to me. I was surprised at the openness.
“You’re in pretty good shape,” said the president. I read the report. It was one page plus the blood test results. It said simply, “There are no abnormal functions seen; there are no clinical indications for Mr. Russell’s apparent conductivity of electricity. However, on a thermogram, there was an unusual activity in the thalamus area, indicating a hypersensitivity which could explain receptivity. When active, the color should be bright yellow. Mr. Russell’s scan showed bright green.”
I finished and handed it to Linda, who read it and looked back at me quizzically. I said, “I don’t know what the color means, but the thalamus controls sensory activity. Everything else is normal.
“What I want you to see,” the president said, “is what the scan of your classroom picked up. I need to apologize to you again, and you too George. Sunday morning, I sent our team back in with a better antenna, which Tony had invented the night before. I want you to see what they collected.”
Disturbing as that knowledge was, no one said anything. Even George was subdued, despite the invasion of his fiefdom.
“Before we begin, I would like you all to understand that this is a secret, and needs to remain so.” There was no mistaking the president’s meaning, and he asked each person individually to agree. He told us that our promise was being recorded. As the images appeared, the hush was interrupted by gasps. When it was complete, the president told Kim to run it again and stop it where it was marked. None of the pictures were clear, but we could make out ghostlike images. Near the beginning, my shoes glimmered. Usual activity, kids and adults, attracted our attention. Kim stopped the projection when a clear image appeared.
I got up and walked to the screen.
“That’s Lee?” asked Linda. “He has a strong face.”
“Looks like him,” I said.
“This is what you saw?” said Lois, amazement in her voice. I nodded.
We returned to our seats and the projection continued. There was a building on fire, but not clear enough to linger at, and then a clearer image of the president. Kim stopped again. The final image was a bright light when the desk was scanned. The president continued, “When we saw these, we knew this needed monitoring. But I know from our contact that you’re as concerned as I am,” he said, focused on me. “So you all understand, our ability to detect human images in blank space is a development we never saw coming. Someday, maybe, we’ll announce this new find, but as I said, for now it remains secret—at the highest levels. I will hold you all to that.”
The First Lady, feeling the discomfort, said, “Would anyone like some coffee?”
Ashley quipped, “I could use something stronger.”
The First Lady said, “No problem.” She walked to the door and asked the waiter who was standing at the door to bring in coffee and drinks. A cart was wheeled in, fully equipped.
The president said, “Normally, we would have staff here to serve, but under the circumstances, I thought better of it. Help yourselves.”
As everyone rose and went to the cart, the president said to me, “We need to fix this. These images are disturbing.”
I said, “Strangely enough, I can say ‘you should be in my shoes.’ And those were my shoes.” The president smiled. “Did you find out anything about the Suburban? I can’t help but think someone here is after me. Linda’s worried too.”
“I’m concerned about it too. I’ve asked Tom to see if there are any other ways we can monitor what’s happening. We’ve been discussing what we can do. Let’s get a drink.” I had coffee, and the president chose sparkling water. As the seats refilled, the room was quiet, everyone lost in thought.
“Now I know how Kennedy felt during the Cuban Missile Crisis,” said George.
“You know, George, this room was one of the places that meetings were held during that October. But back then, we really had an enemy. I hope you don’t feel like we’re enemies.”
“Sorry, Mr. President, I was just thinking that being president, you have to deal with a lot. I would bet that something’s going on somewhere in the world that you need to tend to right now. Not to mention Congress.”
“George, you’re right. You should be in my shoes.” We all laughed.
What had begun as an enjoyable dinner had turned somber. Recognizing the change in atmosphere, the president said, “I wanted a nice dinner for you before we got to this. Fritz and Linda, we had more fun at your house, believe me!”
Sandy interrupted him. “Just out of curiosity, Mr. President, are we in trouble?”
“No, but you need to know the enormity of the problem,” said the president. “One thing we haven’t discussed is the possibility of altering history, being present when a world-altering conversation or event takes place, maybe affecting the result.”
“Like being at Ford’s Theater in time to stop Booth,” I interrupted, glancing at Ash. Everyone looked at me, with varying expressions of surprise and shock. The president stared at me, checked his watch.
“Or what if someone forced you to do something now or in the past?” he asked. “Or you walked into a billy club? You folks have a trip to make, and I actually have a few things to do myself. I appreciate your coming, I really do.” To me, he said, “Keep working at it, and if you need anything, you have my number.”
“Thank you, Mr. President,” I said.
As if on command, James came in. He announced that we would be driving to Andrews. Once again, everyone rose.
“Thank you for the lasagna,” said the First Lady, “and the recipe.”
As we left the Roosevelt Room, the president said to me, “I mean it. If I can help, let me know.”
“Thanks. Talk to you soon,” I said.
IT WAS ONLY a few minutes before Jim Koppler asked to come in. The First Lady excused herself, seeing her husband’s piercing eyes behind lowered eyebrows, his jaw muscles rippling.
“Mr. President, I can’t stand by while you take so lightly the potential threat these people pose. Food, wine. The secret service isn’t doing its job. Mr. Williams said he would take it home if the
re was nothing wrong. He’s not protecting you, and he’s ignoring the rules. And who’s this newcomer, Sandy Horton? Has anyone done a background check on her?”
Breathing in through flared nostrils and then blowing out through pursed lips, the president chose to remain calm. “Jim, I know you’re doing what you think is necessary. I also know that the food will be checked. It was a gift. I’m trying to keep their trust, so if there is a value to the portal, we don’t have self-created enemies. And I do wish you would choose to remember that I’m a pretty smart guy. I wanted Russell here. If inviting the others got him here, so be it. So far, our explanation has been accepted, and there has been no negative effect. This stays in the White House. Got me?”
Koppler left. The president knew that little would change. Furious, the national security advisor returned to his office “Let’s see how smart he is.” His cell was at his ear.
Chapter Twenty
BY 10:30, WE WERE BACK at school. We said goodbye to James and stood as a group in the parking lot.
“Well, we sure have a lot to talk about,” said Lois.
“Not tonight. I still have some thinking to do,” I said.
“Tomorrow then,” said George. “We can’t talk about this during school. We need to assess this.”
Linda said, “Come to our house at noon. Ashley, go shopping.”
“What should I get?”
“Get inspired.”
Watching the verbal volleying, Sandy said, “I’ll help. See you tomorrow.”
“We’ll see you at noon then.” Linda said.
When we arrived home, I almost fell into an armchair in the family room. “Nice dinner,” I said.
But Linda wasn’t in the mood for small talk. She said, “Fritz, they’re not fooling around. Now I’m more afraid of not finding the portal again.” She sat across from me.
“I know. Those images alarm me. They didn’t even notice all the things I did. I could make out the kids’ faces. The fire was there; we were there. And they pulled it out of thin air. That’s actually pretty impressive, but it’s scary.” The reality finally slid into my head. What if someone else finds out? I could be kidnapped or killed. I didn’t mention that to Linda.
“Fritz, what are we going to do?” She was sitting on the edge of the couch.
“Exactly what we’ve been doing. I’ll have to ask George if I can come in after hours, so no one will disturb me.”
“Us, you mean. I’m coming with you.”
“Okay,” I said, surprising her. “I’m strangely tired. Let’s go to bed.”
Sunday started later than usual. Neither of us had slept well, and we moved slowly. Linda spent a bit longer than usual in the bathroom.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Nerves. Dinner was great going down but didn’t sit well. I’ll be fine.”
At 11:30, Ashley showed up in his Sunday best—torn jeans and what appeared to be a new flannel shirt. He carried a bag of groceries, and Sandy had a twelve pack of beer that she put in the refrigerator. She seemed to feel at home.
“New shirt?” I asked, while Ashley emptied the groceries. I had seen almost all of his wardrobe at one time or another.
“Yeah. L.L. Bean. Bought a couple. I put my elbow through one last week, and these were on sale.”
“You shopping? That’s something new.” The portal? Sandy? I wondered.
At noon, the McAllisters arrived. A black Suburban drove by as I opened the door. We had set the table in the dining room, and the food was ready.
Lois took the lead. “So now we know what the government is thinking. What else do we know?”
I had the answer, the list I had been developing in my mind. I went through all I knew about the weather, lightning, the doorknob buzzing, the paperclips. “What’s new is the brain activity. I looked up thermograms earlier. The bright green thalamus indicates hyperactivity, not something abnormal, but it might explain my susceptibility to electrical charges. We also know they broke into the school.”
George said, “I’ll have to check the tape storage and see if it tells us anything.”
“It probably won’t, George. They know how to erase it.”
“I’ll check it anyway. Can’t hurt,” George replied.
I continued, “We also know that the president considers this a priority. As friendly and cool as he tries to be, there’s no doubt he will act to eliminate the threat if I can’t. We took an oath of silence.” They all stared at me. “That probably wouldn’t hold up in court, but it would be a nice final reminder just before a gun goes off in your face or you get pushed out of a plane at 30,000 feet over the ocean.”
“Oh, come on, Fritz,” said George.
I raised my hand to stop him and then said slowly, for emphasis, “George, every one of us is going to be watched. We already know they bugged us here.” I suddenly worried whom else they might have bugged. “You all need to stay tight-lipped. I need to solve this, because I think we’re on a timetable, and we don’t know how much time we have. The president has too much to do to worry about us. Like you said, George, something is going on somewhere that demands his attention.” Hesitating, I looked around the table. “They have the problem solved if I am permanently gone, but that leaves you all as accessories. With me gone, you’re not direct problems because I think I’m the only one who can open the portal. But even a suggestion that time travel is real, or that the government can detect those images puts us all at risk. And what you know puts you at risk.”
“How much time do you think we have?” Ashley asked, his fork poised to dive into the potato salad.
“I don’t know, but he might let us keep trying until we run out of ideas. You heard him offer help. If they do try to help, without our asking, that’s when I think time will be running out.”
Lois, having listened to all this calmly, said, “Then you need us to help. Like you’ve said before, Fritz, we have some pretty smart people here. What do you want us to do?”
“I started writing what we know at school. I haven’t actually written down anything since. Let’s put a list together, with dates, so we can follow our progress.”
“There’s one thing that I don’t understand from the projection,” said Sandy. “What was that bright light at the end?”
“My desk,” I said. “Hold on. What about my desk?”
We discussed all we already knew once again. Then I remembered that my cell phone was in the desk drawer when they scanned the room. It was turned on, and the lights were turned off. I said I didn’t remember their being near any electric sockets. “If that antenna thing was so sensitive, the phone battery could have been enough to make that image. But we’re already pretty sure the desk has some role in this.”
••••
AT HIS DESK early Sunday morning, the president scanned the Washington Post absorbing reactions to his speech in Brussels. He lifted his coffee cup as Tom Andrews knocked and entered.
“Good morning, sir.”
“How did it go?”
“I got all of them sir. Houses, cars, classrooms, the school office. This time, no one will find them. Each one has its own receiver. We’ll know anything and everything. I was listening to what we picked up in the parking lot last night. They’re meeting at Russell’s at noon.”
“I really hate doing this.” For a moment, the president hesitated. “Has Mr. Koppler said anything to you?
“Sir, he thinks there’s some kind of conspiracy. I don’t think he trusts teachers, which is strange. Did you know both his parents were teachers?”
“I did, but I’m not going to say anything. I hope they figure this out soon. Without us. And Tom, see if you can find out why he doesn’t trust teachers.”
The door opened and the First Lady entered, looked at her husband, and then at Tom before she said, “I’m interrupting, sorry.”
As she turned, Tom said, “I was just leaving, ma’am.” When he left, she saw the look on her husband’s face, and said, “You di
dn’t!”
“Tom took care of it last night, while they were here. They are all a problem now. I want to monitor what they’re doing. And I want to know if they find anything. Plus, they could be in danger. They’re getting together at noon.”
••••
“HERE ASHLEY. Take this home,” said Linda, handing him the remainder of his shopping. Most of lunch was uneaten. As everyone prepared to leave, I said, “I want to get into the school at off-hours, George, so I can work this out without interruption.”
“Well that’s kind of irregular, Fritz.”
Lois said, “George, don’t be stupid. He’s not going to raid the soda machine. This is important.”
Stunned by her outburst, George said, “Well, all right. You’ll need to let me know when, so I can give you the keys.”
Lois exclaimed, “Jee-zus, George, make him a set! If he needs us, he’ll let us know. Won’t you, Fritz?”
“Of course.” I was as surprised by Lois as George was.
Lois finished, “You’ll get the keys made by tomorrow, George.”
Ashley and Sandy left next. “You two need to think about the desk,” I said. “Ash, I may need to take it apart to see if there’s anything unusual there. Will you help?”
“Sorry, I’m busy.” I gave him a dirty look.
Linda shook her head and said to Sandy, whose look of bemusement was almost comical, “This is what you’ve gotten yourself into. It’s amazing they haven’t gotten into more trouble.”
“We’re making up for it now.”
Ashley went out, but Sandy turned to Linda and me. All she could say was “unbelievable,” and then she left, too.
A black Suburban passed the door. I watched it disappear around the corner.
••••
THE RESIDENCE PHONE rang. “Yes,” said the president, after he listened to the latest report. He hung up, and then picked up the phone again. “Would you get me the Secretary of Energy please? No, I’ll hold on. Thanks.”
Storm Portal (Quantum Touch Book 1) Page 20