The Time Change Trilogy-Complete Collection

by Alex Myers

  “That would be fine,” Robbie said quickly, hoping it would go unnoticed. He stole a glance at Frances who was standing there with her mouth wide open.

  The clerk continued, “Sam Clemens has stayed with us here several times. Jack Riggs? As in the Jack Riggs the inventor? Is he still around?”

  Robbie turned and Frances’ face was ready to pop two veins in each temple. “What is this about Robbie?”

  Robbie didn’t speak; he just looked down at his feet.

  “Is this Jack? My Jack?” Frances asked with a look of horror on her face.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Sevenski, is the Presidential Suite going to be acceptable?”

  “Yes!” Robbie said way too loud.

  “Yes, the Presidential Suite is acceptable?” The deskman asked again.

  “Yes, Jack is back?” Frances asked.

  “Yes, the suite is okay.” He turned back to Frances. “Yes, Jack is back!”

  “How long has he been here?” Frances asked.

  “Today is day six. He went to see Sam Clemens and then they went to see Ralph Waldo Emerson. Excuse us,” Robbie said to the desk clerk, “I’ll be back to take care of this in a few minutes.” He guided Frances away from the front desk to a seating area in the corner of the lobby.

  “I wait for this man for twenty-four years and when he gets here he doesn’t even have the common courtesy to say hello? My God, twenty-four years is a long time, Robbie, what happened? Did he find someone else? Did the years diminish his love?”

  “I don’t think it’s like that, Miss Frances, it hasn’t been twenty-four years for him—I think it’s only been a few months. I was only a kid, but to me he still looks exactly the same. It’s like he never left.”

  “That’s certainly a scenario I didn’t think about. I just assumed that time would pass the same for both of us. Why, he’s still only thirty-four or thirty-five and I am, well I’m an old lady.”

  “That’s not true, Miss Frances.”

  She stood and looked into the big mirror on the lobby wall. With her hand, she traced the lines on her face. At first, she looked appalled, and then she just looked sad. “I’m old enough to be his mother. Of course, he doesn’t want anything to do with me. Fine, I guess I’m the fool.” She turned and ran.

  Robbie could have got up and chased her, but what could he have said to make it better? He had already caused enough grief and it was Jack’s grief not his. Be a man, Jack, and be honest with her, she deserves that much.

  “What are you mumbling about Robbie?” Jack asked, stepping up to Robbie’s chair in the lobby.

  Jack’s appearance startled Robbie. He was not going to confront Jack, not right now at least. He wanted to speak to Sam about it first. “Nothing Jack, nothing at all.”

  “You look like you just lost your best friend,” Sam said as he stepped up behind Jack.

  Robbie stood and smiled broadly. “Nonsense gentlemen, I just got us the Presidential Suite.”

  CHAPTER 21

  Jack and Sam met the Emersons at the train station. They caught a cab together to take them to Thomas Edison’s downtown offices.

  The cab was an electric car. It was a wheeled box made of glass. Jack sat in the back on a bench seat next to Ralph and Lydian Emerson. Sam Clemens was in the front next to the driver. The floorboards were the only things not made of glass. Jack rapped on the window with his knuckles. It had a wooden sound.

  “That’s bulletproof,” the driver said looking at Jack in the rearview mirror. “The old glass would shatter every time you hit a pothole or some goddam kid would throw a rock.”

  Jack rapped on the glass again and figured it was a least three layers thick. “When did you get this?”

  “I was one of the first ones about two or three years ago. Is this your first time in New York?” The cab driver was looking directly at Jack in the mirror.

  “No, I’ve been here before, but it’s been a while.” Jack thought it had only been less than a year, but more than twenty-five years of changes had taken place.

  “Sixty-Five South Sixth Avenue? Isn’t that the Edison Building?” The cab driver asked.

  “Yes it is, got a meeting there today,” Jack said.

  “You an inventor?”

  “You can say that. Why do you ask?”

  “You’re my third inventor fare in the last two weeks. One of them even met with the great man himself; although that’s not the way he described Edison afterward.”

  “How would you know that?” Jack asked.

  “Because the man paid me to wait for him in front of the building. Bell, ah…Alexander Bell, yeah that’s it, Alexander Bell. He said Edison took one look at his plans and kicked him out of the office. He then even claimed that Edison stole his plans.”

  “For the telephone? Didn’t Alexander Graham Bell invent the telephone?”

  “Telephone?” The man looked at Jack in the rearview mirror. “Brother, where have you been? Someone at the Riggs Corporation of Virginia invented the telephone about ten years ago. No, this big boy had something like a portable phonograph, played music, played it in my backseat I tell you. Said it was a tape recorder—whatever the hell that means.”

  They drove in silence passing mini cars and only occasionally horse-drawn carts. It looked like the streets were mostly filled with large and smaller versions of the cab Jack was riding in. Automobiles had never gone through a design phase like those he saw. All thanks to the changes he had made back in the original timeline.

  “What’s wrong with your friend?” The man tipped his head in Emerson’s direction. “He looks like he’s a little touched.”

  Jack looked at Emerson who was sitting small and frail next to him. The muscles in his face were slack, but he could see him flinch and close his eyes when he heard the driver.

  “This is Ralph Waldo Emerson,” Jack said.

  The driver exploded in ugly harsh laughter. “And I’m the Queen of Sheba.” The driver then motioned with his thumb toward Sam, “And I suppose this is Mark Twain.” The driver laughed even harder.

  Jack’s face was turning red. He was incredibly angry but didn’t want to cause a scene. There was no reaction from Emerson except that his penetrating eyes were brimming with moisture.

  “How about you pal, you somebody famous too? Ever invent anything I might know?”

  “No, I just keep to myself mainly. The name is Riggs, Jack Riggs.” Jack watched the man’s face for his reaction; he didn’t have to wait long.

  “Jack Riggs!” The driver laughed again. “Jack Riggs the inventor? Like the Jack Riggs and with Ralph Waldo Emerson and Mark Twain? Come on buddy, give me some credit. What do ya take me for? Boy, wait till I tell the boys back at the shop. Got me some real bona fide celebrities.” He laughed so hard he drifted into the oncoming lane of traffic. A couple of horn blasts and he jerked the cab back into the right lane. “Jack Riggs. That should go over real well at the Edison Company. Just don’t mention your name if Edison is anywhere around.”

  “And why is that?” Jack asked.

  “Everyone knows how much Thomas Edison hates Jack Riggs—the ‘Wizard of Hampton Roads’. I mean, how would you like to be the second greatest inventor of all time? Here’s your drop off.” The cabbie brought the silent electric car to a smooth stop. “The Edison Building. You need help getting the walking corpse, excuse me, Ralph Waldo Emerson, into the building?” The man laughed at his own joke again.

  “I think you’ve done quite enough.”

  CHAPTER 22

  “Mr. Edison will see you now,” a male secretary said as he led Jack, the Emersons, and Samuel Clemens into Thomas Edison’s second-floor office. The office reminded Jack of the time he was in Cyrus McCormick’s office back in 1856. The main difference was that Edison’s was more of a monument to Edison.

  Even with Sam’s help, Jack struggled to get Emerson up the two flights of stairs. He was a five-foot-four-inch sack of bones and at times, it was just easier for them to completely lift him off hi
s feet and carry him. Emerson was completely silent except for the occasional breathy whistle of exertion.

  They passed Edison’s stock ticker, which was a smaller, more sophisticated version of Edison’s original design. The secretary left them at the door of an empty office without a word. Still arm in arm with Emerson, they walked into the huge darkened room. There seemed to be a modern version of nearly everything that Edison had originally invented.

  On display were a photograph, movie camera and projector, and mimeograph machine. There were also displays of machines that originally Thomas Edison had never worked on, things like a washing machine, vacuum, and several countertop appliances. No doubt, this was all to use electricity from one or another of Edison’s electrical plants. Jack noticed Sam nod to an electric typewriter in the corner that’s placard said it was invented with the help of Mark Twain.

  Jack had already noted that all electric was now direct current instead of the less efficient alternating current. Edison had fought hard in the last timeline with Nikola Tesla and George Westinghouse in the ac versus dc battle. Because of Edison’s money and influence, the inferior delivery system had won. Not so this time, Jack had used dc in all his products and made it the standard.

  They took seats in maroon leather high-back chairs in front of an ornately carved desk the size of a conference table. Jack sat in one, Emerson was in the middle, his wife next to him, and Sam was on the right. Lidian Emerson was holding Ralph’s hand.

  Thirty minutes later, they were still sitting there, no one having stopped by to even to check on them.

  “Do you think they even know that we’re here?” Lidian asked.

  “I’m sure of it,” Jack said, having noted the tight security on the way in. He felt as if they were being watched even now.

  “Were we expected?” Lidian asked.

  “They were expecting somebody,” Sam said. “I didn’t tell him who was coming except that I was bringing VIPs. I also told him about the cathode ray tube you said you needed.”

  “Why hasn’t anybody been in?” Lidian asked. “The waiting is just plain horrible.”

  Emerson’s eyes flashed from Lidian to Jack and back.

  “I figure making us wait is some kind of posturing. He’s sending a message that he’s more important than us,” Jack said.

  “Don’t you just think he could be running late?” Sam asked.

  “Do you think that’s what it is, Sam?” Jack asked.

  “No.” Sam cast his eyes down and shook his head in frustration.

  “I did some research on Edison and this is one of his favorite tactics.”

  “Mr. Emerson!” Thomas Edison said, entering the room. Edison was smaller and stouter than Jack would’ve thought. He came bounding into the room. “Mr. Emerson, it’s so nice to meet you.” Edison walked around the front of the chair, placed his hand under Lidian’s, grabbed the older man’s hand, and shook it. There was a look of horror on everyone’s face—all except for Ralph Waldo Emerson.

  “It’s an honor to meet you.” Thomas Edison said.

  Emerson sat expressionless.

  When there was no response, Edison dropped Emerson’s hand and awkwardly stood straight. “Yes, well…” Edison said trying to orient himself. “Mr. Emerson, hello,” still there was no response. “What’s wrong with him?” Edison asked, stepping back. He looked first to Sam and then to Jack.

  “Mr. Emerson has aphasia, probably brought on by a stroke. This has left him incapacitated,” Jack said.

  “Who are you?” Edison said almost accusatorially.

  “I’m…” Jack hesitated. He knew of Edison’s massive ego and couldn’t deal with the hostility or the question at the moment. “This is Mr. Emerson, Mr. Emerson’s wife, Lidian, and, you know Sam there, and I’m Jonathan Riggs.”

  Edison flinched when Jack said Riggs. “Mark, nice to see you again.” Edison called Sam, Mark Twain, even though he knew that Samuel Clemens was his real name. “What is the purpose of today’s visit?”

  “I need to use the cathode ray tube with Mr. Emerson.”

  “That’s what Mark said and that alone got you this meeting. I wasn’t aware that Ralph Waldo Emerson would be with you.”

  “And Lidian Emerson,” Jack said.

  “Yes, of course, Mrs. Emerson. Mr. Riggs what purpose on earth would you have with a cathode ray tube? I think a better question would be, how would you even know that I have one?”

  The secretary entered the room. “Mr. Edison, an older woman claiming to be a Dr. Blackwell and her male nurse are here. They say it’s to join you in a procedure.”

  “I will need them,” Jack said.

  Edison’s curiosity was clearly aroused. “Show them in.”

  “That’s Dr. Elizabeth Blackwell, first female physician in the United States and now chief of surgery at the NYU medical school,” Jack said. He had met with Dr. Blackwell a day ago and asked for her help with the procedure. After a long explanation from Jack, she agreed and had examined Emerson earlier that morning. Dr. Blackwell had attended Jack’s wedding to Frances and had been the doctor that declared Jack dead. She was one of the most serious-minded people Jack had ever encountered. A person not normally given to fantastical explanations, but one who had taken Jack’s time travel story and his explanation of the futuristic nanobots very much in stride. It seemed that she believed her own observation and empirical evidence over the case’s logic. The evidence was right in front of her eyes, and she couldn’t help but offer Jack all of her help and services.

  She had determined that nothing at that time, using 1881 medical science, could be done to improve Emerson’s condition. She had also performed the transfusion giving Ralph Waldo Emerson two pints of Jack’s blood. Now they needed Edison’s help. Jack explained the procedure and what to expect. Dr. Blackwell introduced herself to Edison and took a seat next to Lidian.

  Thomas Edison looked cornered. He looked from one person to the next and finally settled on Jack. “What is the meaning of all this?”

  “We need your help with a medical procedure for Mr. Emerson,” Jack said.

  “This is no hospital, and I’m certainly no doctor.”

  “We need to use the cathode ray tube that you are developing for your radio picture scope.” Jack looked Edison dead in the eye.

  Edison sat back in his chair like he had been slapped. He sat without moving. Finally, he reached out to his right ear and increased the volume of his hearing aid. “No one with the exception of five people who all work for me know anything about that tube, and only I know the name of the product. What is going on here Riggs? Just what kind a corporate spy are you?”

  “I assure you that I’m not a spy or associated with any business. I am just a friend of Mr. Emerson’s with a little knowledge and ability and I would like to see him recover.”

  “How do you know that I have a tube if you’re not a corporate spy?”

  “I am something of a clairvoyant. I’ve seen the future.” Jack knew that later in life Edison would have a huge interest in the occult and the paranormal and hoped it would spark an interest.

  Edison was about to speak, but then took closer look at Jack. He opened his mouth to speak again and closed it once more. He stood behind his desk and began to pace the floor. He rubbed his chin with his hands. “What do you need from me?”

  “Mr. Emerson has something in his bloodstream that can be activated by the small amounts of radiation emitted from your tube.”

  “Cathode tubes do not emit a consistent level of energy. It varies depending on the size.”

  “We need to use the one you’re going to use in your radio picture scope, the RPS.”

  “RPS? I just thought of that this morning,” an astonished Edison said. “I did not tell anyone, I didn’t even write it down. What is it exactly that you want?”

  “It’s a short medical procedure with Mr. Emerson. Dr. Blackwell will be overseeing it. There are small particles in his bloodstream that can cure his medical condi
tion if we turn on the switch with the radiation from your tube.”

  “There is no radiation coming from the tube. I have perfected it. It’s absolutely safe.”

  “Yes, it is safe,” Jack answered, “but there is radiation, too little for you to detect. It almost needs to be turned off and on in a Morse code-like sequence. It’s another reason I could use your help, being the old telegraph operator that you are.”

  “Please don’t try to flatter me.” He turned to Dr. Blackwell. “Did we meet once at NYU?”

  Jack knew that they had, he’d seen the picture.

  “I have heard about your flawless memory—yes, we have. We met about a year and a half a year ago, albeit briefly when we installed your newly developed halogen lights in all of our operating rooms.”

  “Dr. Black, Chief of Surgery—right?” Edison asked. Either he forgot he had already been introduced just minutes ago, or more likely hadn’t heard introduction in the first place.

  “I just want you to know I’ve never heard of anything more preposterous than the request by Mr. Riggs. Mr. Emerson, are you okay with this?”

  Ralph Waldo Emerson blinked his eyes and Lidian said, “He wants to do this.”

  “And Dr. Blackwell, do you accept responsibility from a medical standpoint?”

  “I have all the confidence in the world that this will work.”

  Edison turned to Jack. “I don’t know who you are, or what game you’re playing, but I want you to know that I don’t believe you. A mechanical device in the bloodstream that can be turned on remotely, inside the body and can reverse the effects of a stroke? And all this from the tube that doesn’t emit radiation? I don’t know how you have fooled these esteemed people, but I’ll have you know that I’ll have none of it.”

  “Now, Tom, you promised me,” Sam Clemens said.

  “I’m okay with you not believing, Mr. Edison. I’m not here to convince anyone of anything. I’m here to help Mr. Emerson.”

  “Then let’s do this and then the quicker you can be gone,” Edison said.