Storm Portal (Quantum Touch Book 1)

by Michael R. Stern

  ••••

  THURSDAY’S FORECAST was more of the same. Linda was in the bathroom when I was ready to go.

  “Is your stomach still bothering you?” I asked. “Why don’t you go to the doctor?”

  “Fritz, it’s just nerves. This situation is starting to take a toll on me, too.”

  “I wish you would make an appointment and get it checked.”

  About three blocks from school, I noticed a black Suburban pull into traffic behind me. When I pulled into the school parking lot, the Suburban kept on going. Am I being paranoid?

  George was waiting for me at my classroom with pursed lips and something to say. He asked if I had been in the school the previous night. When I told him I had, he reminded me I was supposed to call him. George being irritated was not how I wanted to start the day. It must have shown on my face. He asserted that he was responsible for insurance issues along with everything else, and that I needed to remember that. Then he asked if I had discovered anything new.

  “Unfortunately, no.”

  “Well, maybe you’ll have some stormy weather for a few days.”

  I laughed. “For me, it’s been stormy for a while.”

  “You know what I mean,” he snapped.

  I reached into my pocket for my keys and pulled out some cash that had gotten caught in the key chain. I put the cash on the desk and unlocked the drawers. I reached for the books and brochure, my new daily routine.

  Ashley walked in, and said, “You’re early. What’s up?”

  “Just got up early. Linda and I came in last night during the storm and tried again. No luck.”

  “What’s with the cash?” Ash asked.

  “It got tangled up in my keys.”

  “You carry that much?”

  “Not usually. I got it before we went to D.C. Just in case. I haven’t put it back yet.”

  Ashley picked up the $100 bill and looked at the picture. I looked at it too. “I think I like these new engravings.” I rubbed the bill between my fingers. “I didn’t at first.”

  “Why not?”

  “I think historians just like some things to be traditional.” I slid the money into my pocket.

  “Are you going to try again today?” Ashley asked.

  “If the weather cooperates. You were right from the beginning, Ash. I think it’s the lightning, but there’s another link. I just don’t know what yet.”

  As I was talking, I was also watching the cars drive by. “What’s wrong?” asked Ash. I pointed to the passing Suburban and told him I had been seeing them constantly, that one had followed me to school. I said that either I was getting paranoid, or my time was running out.

  “Fritz, they’ve been everywhere for years. You are paranoid,” said Ash, who looked out the window again. “See, there’s another one.”

  “Or the same one.”

  Chapter Twenty One

  I STEELED MYSELF for the teaching I had no interest in right then. The students noticed, and more than once during the day asked if I was okay. I lost my train of thought with each crack of thunder. Something was roaming just beyond my reach. It bugged me. I popped an essay test on the kids during seventh period. It gave me some quiet time, a trick I’d learned early in my career. Another black Suburban went by. Scanning its details, I wondered if it was the same one. I walked around the perimeter of the class with my hands in my pockets, and it clicked. By the end of eighth period, I couldn’t wait for the kids to leave.

  I took out the books, checked the paperclips, and placed one on the left, one on the right, and the White House tour brochure at the center. I walked into the hallway. Lightning flashed. I touched the doorknob. BUZZ. I walked in and found myself on the top step of a brick building in an alley. A young man with a mustache brushed by and said, “Pardon me,” with a southern accent as the door closed. Another man was holding a horse. Seeing the door outlined, I walked through, back to the hallway. I grabbed the doorknob again, no buzz. I walked into my classroom.

  “My God, that was John Wilkes Booth,” I said aloud. I grabbed the Civil War book, thumbed to Lincoln’s assassination, and looked at Booth’s picture. “I’ve got it.”

  I paused for a moment, my pulse pounding like a jackhammer, and walked out into the hall. I grabbed the doorknob again. I walked through and into the office of Robert E. Lee at Washington College. Lee, sitting at the table he used as his desk, looked up, not startled, almost as if he had expected me. He said, “Why, Mr. Russell. I wondered if I might ever see you again.”

  Taken by surprise that the general would remember me, I said, “General, this is an experiment. I can’t stay, but may I visit again?”

  “Of course, but before you go, you should know that after your last, uh, visit, I sent some men to try to stop Mr. Lincoln’s killer. They were unsuccessful.”

  “General, I think history doesn’t want to be changed. The past fights back. I don’t mean to be rude, but I must go.” I turned to leave, but a thought hit me. “General, what year is it now?”

  “1868. What year is it where you come from?”

  “General, in my calendar it’s about a month since we first met.”

  “Mr. Russell, since our first meeting, I have had an abundance of time to consider our conversation. I hope we will have time to discuss this further.”

  “General, I would enjoy that. Perhaps it will be soon. But I really must go now.”

  “Of course.”

  Once again, I walked through the door and back into the hallway. I reached for the doorknob. Nothing. I opened it and walked into my classroom.

  “I think I’ve got it. This has to be it.” I returned to the hallway, and tried again. I ought to call him first. I didn’t. I opened the door and stepped through. The Oval Office. Empty. I stepped back into my world.

  ••••

  JIM KOPPLER JUMPED in his chair. There was Fritz Russell, standing in the doorway of the Oval Office. He put out the alarm. And then watched Russell disappear. “I’ve got to put an end to this.” He picked up his phone.

  ••••

  I LET THE DOOR shut completely to break the connection and went in. I took the Ford’s Theater book and the White House brochure and put them on the windowsill as a black Suburban pulled into the parking lot. I walked into the hallway, quickly grabbed the doorknob again, and returned through the portal to Robert E. Lee.

  Ashley told me later what happened while I was gone. Tom had hurried directly to my classroom. He peered in the window and noting my absence and my personal items still there, he headed back to the Suburban. Mel Zack was in the passenger’s seat, ready for any action Tom directed. They had been called by the national security advisor, Tom told Ash later. The car windows were tinted and opaque, so no one could see in, but Mel saw Tom coming back empty-handed.

  Ashley left his classroom, intending to go to my room. As he looked down the hall, he saw the Suburban parked ten feet from the door and Tom heading around the front of the car. At that point, a flash silhouetted the passenger in the car. He took a couple of steps down the hall, but the Suburban pulled away in haste, not wanting interference. Ashley said he thought, like a getaway, and ran to my classroom. As Tom had done, he looked in the window, then opened the door. He saw my stuff and knew I wouldn’t leave without it. Leaving the room, he went across the hall to Sandy’s classroom. “Have you seen, Fritz,” he asked. His forehead had more wrinkles than his shirt, Sandy told me later.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I just saw Tom,” he said, and paused at her questioning look. “You know, the secret service agent. He pulled out of the parking lot very fast, and there was someone in there with him, and Fritz isn’t in his room.”

  “Did you go to the office? Maybe George knows why Tom was here or where Fritz is.”

  Ashley turned for the door. Sandy said, “Wait for me.”

  Together, they ran to the office, footfalls heavy on the granite floor. Ashley knew that time was critical, and he was panicky. G
eorge stood in his office doorway, getting ready to leave. He saw them running down the hall and asked, “Is something wrong?”

  Leaning in the door frame, Ashley asked, “Have you seen Fritz?”

  “No. Why?”

  “Did you know that Tom Andrews was in the school?”

  “Who?” asked George.

  “The secret service agent.” Ashley was losing his composure, and George wasn’t helping.

  “No. Why was he here?”

  “I was hoping you could tell me that,” said Ashley, who headed back down the hallway, with Sandy a few steps behind. Thinking he should investigate, George followed them.

  “Wait for me,” he hollered down the hall. Ashley glanced back but kept running. Sandy slowed to allow him to catch up.

  “What’s going on?” George asked, gasping.

  “I’m not sure. Ashley saw Tom drive away fast. Fritz is nowhere to be found. Ash said there was someone in the car with Tom.”

  “Why is Ashley so upset?” asked George.

  “Honestly, George, don’t you see what’s happened? If Ashley’s right, Fritz has been kidnapped. And you know that Fritz has been worried about the president doing something just like this.” She shook her head and resumed running, leaving George to catch up.

  Another burst lit the hallway when Ashley reached my door. Then an immediate crack of thunder. He yanked the door open and looked around, hoping to find me in a corner or hiding under my desk or something. My briefcase was on the floor next to the desk, and my raincoat was draped over the back of the chair. But I was very definitely not there. Sandy opened the door and before it could close, George walked in. Both looked around.

  “Is there anything that looks out of place?” asked George.

  “No, nothing. Except that Fritz isn’t here,” replied Ashley. Ashley had no patience for George being obtuse at this point. He picked up the one book sitting on the desk, opened to the paperclip, and read.

  Sandy asked, “Ashley, what are you reading? Does it tell you anything?”

  “This was the book Fritz was marking in case he got through the portal. Back to see Lee. He marked the time where Lee was head of the college.”

  “Maybe he went home,” offered George.

  “Without his stuff? Not likely,” Ashley roared. “Besides, he left his keys in the desk lock. So his car is in the lot.”

  “Maybe Linda picked him up?” George was reaching for straws; he disliked disorder. Fritz’s being kidnapped more than met that definition.

  “Ashley, why don’t you call her and ask?” said Sandy, trying to stop more inane questions.

  “Not yet. No reason to worry her. He could be anywhere in the school. But I doubt it. What I’d like to do is call the president, but I don’t have his number.”

  “You could call the White House and ask for Lily Evans,” said Sandy. “That would get you through, I think. She may not know you, but she’ll know about Fritz. Tell her you’re calling the president because Fritz disappeared.”

  Ashley thought a moment and agreed. “My phone is in my room.” Replacing the book, he walked out.

  Sandy said sharply to George, “Are you coming?” as she started to follow.

  “Of course. I’ll just take Fritz’s things with me.” He picked up the briefcase and the coat, locked Fritz’s desk, removed the keys, and followed Sandy out.

  As they were leaving my classroom, Tom was running back down the hallway. He yelled, “Don’t let the door shut. Hold it open! Mr. Russell went through the portal. He’s still there.”

  Ashley came out of his classroom, phone to his ear, and followed Tom back to my room. Sandy and George were dumbstruck, but at least George had held the door.

  “What’s going on?” George barked. Ignoring George, Tom went past him and into the room, straight to the desk.

  “Where are the desk keys?” Tom shouted. “Quickly! That’s what opens the portal!”

  George resisted. He said, “How do you know that?”

  His toughness uncloaked in his deep voice, Tom said, “The president figured it out. And the room is bugged. Mel heard Mr. Russell go through just now on the monitor. GIVE ME THE KEYS!!”

  “Who’s Mel?” hollered George.

  Sandy, realizing what was happening, said, “George, give him the keys, or Fritz will be trapped.”

  At last, Lily Evans answered. Ashley told her that Fritz had found the portal, that one of them would call her back, that Tom was with them, and cut the signal. “Of course,” Ashley said, “the key. Ben Franklin, the key, electricity. I’ve had that bouncing around in my head all day. And we have a thunderstorm.”

  Tom put the key back in the desk’s lock. He turned to the others and said, “I hope that he can come back. If the key is the trigger,” his gaze turned to George, “you may have cut him off.”

  Returning to his status as principal, George turned an angry shade of red, and said, “What do you mean, bugging my classroom! You had no right!”

  Tom said, “If we hadn’t, Mr. Russell would be gone forever. We still don’t know if he can get back. We need to leave the classroom and wait in the hallway.”

  As the four of them left the room, Ashley asked Tom, “What are you doing here in the first place? Fritz has been watching black Suburbans drive by all day, and he’s been worried. I thought he was getting crazy, but obviously, he was right. So, why are you here?”

  Tom simply said, “The president sent me.”

  Ashley drew a long, deep breath to calm himself. Taking a step closer, eye to eye, he strained to remain calm but pointed. “That may be, but for what purpose? You may be a government agent, Tom, but Fritz is my best friend, and I want to know what you were planning. Because you aren’t leaving here without an answer.”

  “Are you nuts? Are you threatening me?” asked Tom, pulling his suit jacket open and showing Ashley his pistol.

  ••••

  “THANK YOU, GENERAL, tea would be nice,” said Fritz.

  “As I said to you yesterday, Mr. Russell, I was in a position to try to stop Mr. Booth.”

  “Excuse me, General, ‘yesterday’? I was just here.”

  “It was yesterday when you asked if you could visit again. What day is it in your time?”

  “General, you may not believe this, but it’s about five minutes since I saw you.”

  “I’m not sure how all this works, Mr. Russell, but it certainly raises a myriad of questions. But as I was saying, I asked two of my best officers to go up to Washington City and warn them of the attempt on Mr. Lincoln’s life. Since the war was not yet completed, there were guards on all the roads entering the city. It seems Confederate officers in uniform, even with a white flag and a letter from me, were not yet welcome. Though I am not surprised, I was hoping that there might at least be an officer who would recognize the danger. I was wrong.”

  Lee sipped his tea and continued. “I told my men not to approach the city armed but to leave their weapons where they could retrieve them. That probably saved their lives.” He sighed. “They told me they tried three different roads to get into Washington but were resisted each time. No Union officer was willing to listen. At the second entry point, my men had to escape before they were arrested. Fortunately, the Union troops were not prepared to fight. Fast horses were a value.”

  I listened intently and when the general finished, I said, “I have a couple of questions I would like to ask, if I may?”

  “Of course,” said Lee.

  “After our first meeting, did anything happen that seemed unusual or unlikely to you when we left?”

  Lee thought for a bit. “There were two things that struck me as most surprising. The first was on April 12, as my men surrendered their arms and our battle flags. General Grant had ordered that General Joshua Chamberlain of Maine command the surrender of arms, and when the parade of our boys began, Chamberlain ordered a salute to the surrendering army, a gesture that will remain in my heart as most noble.”

  I interje
cted, “General, do you know that Chamberlain is Governor of Maine?”

  “I am aware of that and wish him the best. That reception did a great deal to lessen the hurt of defeat. The second event that surprised me concerned President Davis. I fully expected him to be shot or hanged. Although he spent two years in prison, and at first in a squalid place, public protests up north got him removed to a real prison. I think people of the North wanted the war to end, and President Davis was a continuing reminder. He was never tried for treason. You know, of course, he was a West Point graduate, and served as Senator from Mississippi. But, I . . .”

  At that moment, there was a pop that startled us both. The portal had vanished. I went to the office door and opened it. It led to a hallway outside the General’s office, not the one at school.

  I turned to Lee. “General, I’m afraid that my return to my time has just disappeared. I’m not sure I’ll be able to go home.”

  “Young man, please sit. In my years of command, I learned one thing above all. Patience. Not everything is as good or bad as it seems. If you are in fact forced to remain here, we will find a way for you to live on as best we can. But let us not be too hasty. Perhaps your portal is just taking a rest.” His face crinkled. Lines abundant, eyes reassuring, Lee smiled at me.

  ••••

  “IT’S NOT A THREAT. The government can’t just kidnap people or shoot them or whatever you were going to do,” Ashley shouted, nose-to-nose with the agent.

  At that, Tom smiled. “Ashley, the president figured out that the desk key was what opened the portal. He’s out touring tornado country but asked me to bring Fritz to the White House to discuss a matter of urgency. I can’t tell you what. But we aren’t going to harm him. The president wants to ask a favor. Not something he wanted to do on the phone.”

  At that moment, Ashley’s phone rang. He looked at the screen. It was the president. “Hello?”

  “Mr. Gilbert, this is the president. I know you’re concerned, but Tom is there at my request. I need very badly to speak to Mr. Russell. I know he’s found the portal trigger, but I had figured out how it worked yesterday as I watched the tapes.”