Box Set - The Time Magnet Series

by Russell Moran

  “It’s obvious that she’s going to offer this ship to fight against the South,” Bradley said. “Even if she doesn’t, the Secretary of the Navy has the power to simply order it so. Let’s face it, since we find ourselves in 1861, the California is a Union ship. With the California thrown into the fight, the South won’t have a prayer. The fire power on this one ship can turn the tide of any engagement. They’ll probably surrender after the first battle, and the Confederacy will come to an end almost as soon as it began. Bradley looked intently at Ray, trying to judge his reaction.

  “I hear you loud ‘n clear Commander,” said Ray. “Abe Lincoln shoved his foot up Ole Dixie’s ass. The South just wanted to be left alone. Fuck’n Yankees just couldn’t let all be well. They had to tell us what to do and how to do it. Makes you wish you could do sumpin about it.”

  Bradley sensed the beginning of an alliance.

  “You know, Chief,” said Bradley, “the people who fought for the South were called rebels. The ones who once served in the Northern military were even called traitors. But some people, like you and me, know that they were patriots fighting for their homeland. They were willing to fight and die for a just cause. Best example is Robert E. Lee himself.”

  “So now that we’re here,” said Chief Ray, “the South gets fucked all over again.”

  “Well, let’s think about that,” said Bradley. “When the SEALs were snooping around in Charleston they heard a lot of talk about a mysterious Gray Ship. Obviously that’s us, the California. I imagine the Confederate command, both Army and Navy, must be very nervous. They’re probably thinking the North has come up with a big new secret invention. Wouldn’t it be interesting if the Confederacy had some inside information about the California, including her vulnerabilities? Wouldn’t it also be interesting if they had some modern weapons to level the playing field? Wouldn’t it be interesting if the South had, oh, I don’t know, some rocket propelled grenades, night vision goggles, automatic carbines, surface to air, and anti-ship missiles? Wouldn’t it be interesting?”

  Chief Ray moved closer, lowered his voice and said, “That would be very interesting indeed, Commander.”

  Chapter 18

  Captain Patterson called SEAL Petty Officer Pete Campo to the bridge. “Petty Officer Campo, I understand that a Seaman Planck has signed up for your class.”

  “Yes ma’am. I saw his name on the roster this morning. I start a new beginner’s class tomorrow and he’ll be there.”

  “Let me tell you a few things about Planck. You’ll see that he’s tall, gangly, probably best described as gawky. And he’s got a problem.”

  “What’s that Captain?”

  “A lot of his shipmates are making his life miserable, picking on him constantly and generally bullying him, all because of his appearance. He’s what I call a ‘bully magnet.’ He needs confidence training and physical conditioning. I’m not looking for you to turn him into a SEAL, just a confident human being.” She focused her eyes directly into Campo’s and said, “Pete, I want you to pay special attention to this kid. He’s a good crewmember, and I want him to be a better person. Can I count on you?”

  “Captain, give me a month and you won’t recognize this sailor.”

  Chapter 19

  Secretary Wells was still thinking about the horrible casualty statistics that Father Rick had described. Like everyone in command in the North, he had expected a short war. With the industrial strength, transportation, and communications of the Northern states, the Confederate administration would soon see that continued secession, not to mention war, would be futile. When the Erie Canal opened in New York State in 1825, it created a vast commercial network from Lake Erie to the Atlantic Ocean, building an industrial infrastructure the South could only envy. But, Wells thought, if the people on this ship are correct and they can tell him what the future holds, he would have to rethink everything about the Civil War, and so would Abraham Lincoln.

  ***

  Captain Patterson asked Ivan Campbell to give their distinguished guests a tour of the California, further infuriating Bradley.

  “Gentlemen, let me be candid with you, and tell you that we’re no smarter than you are,” Campbell said. “We came here with 152 years of scientific and technological advancement. On this tour I’m going to concentrate on our present capabilities. I’ve asked Father Rick, our ship’s unofficial historian, to join us.”

  The tour began with a lecture delivered by Father Rick condensing 152 years of technological history into a few minutes. Father Rick had found a two page listing of the major technological discoveries in a book from the ship’s library entitled: Technology from the Civil War to the Manned Space Station. He photocopied the pages and handed copies to their guests. As they were reading he snapped a photo of them with his iPad and handed it around to the men.

  Admiral Farragut, an experienced military man, knowledgeable in science and technical matters, saw the significance of the iPad.

  “This photograph that you just showed us which you took moments ago, can have a major impact on surveillance and reconnaissance.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Campbell. “Wait until you see our drones and attack helicopter. Combine them with photography, and battlefield reconnaissance takes on a whole new dimension.”

  They didn’t ask what a drone or helicopter was. They knew they’d find out soon enough.

  They read the pages and listened to Father Rick and Ivan Campbell. There, on a nuclear warship in Chesapeake Bay in 1861, they heard about wireless communication, the telephone, the light bulb, the transistor, photocopy machines, vacuum cleaners, washers and dryers, dishwashers, rocketry, missile guidance, automatic firing weapons, hand grenades, battle tanks, submarines, self propelled torpedoes, radar, sonar, radio, two-way radios, television, the personal computer, smart phones, iPads, IPods, space travel, and nuclear power.

  To wrap a little history around the technology, Father Rick then discussed the Spanish American War, World War I, the Great Depression, World War II, the Korean War, the Cold War, the Kennedy assassination, Ed Sullivan, the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, the moon landing, Vietnam, the Gulf War, 9/11, Iraq and Afghanistan, and the election of Barack Obama as the first black President of the United States.

  They began their tour on the bridge and ended up in the Combat Information Center (CIC). They headed to the Captain’s office for a wrap-up and review. Campbell handed Secretary Wells a folder full of photographs so he could review this day at his desk. Wells’ head spun with the strategic implications of what they had seen, Admiral Farragut’s with the tactical possibilities.

  “Captain Patterson, we shall take our leave now,” Wells said. “The human mind can only comprehend a finite amount of information.”

  Ashley then said with a smile, “One hundred and fifty two years is a lot to ponder in a few hours, Mr. Secretary.”

  “We shall meet again soon,” said Wells. “How do you recommend that we communicate?”

  She told Campbell to give Wells a two-way radio. Campbell took one from his belt and showed them how to use it. He also gave them a supply of batteries.

  “Captain Patterson,” said Wells, “a private word with you Madam?” They walked over to a corner of the room. Wells leaned close to Ashley and said, “I want you to meet with President Lincoln as soon as possible.”

  Ashley came close to blowing her command presence. Every nerve ending in her body ordered her to jump up and down and squeal like a school girl. Instead, she said, with studied calmness, “Whatever you and the President deem appropriate, sir.” Abraham Lincoln – Yesssss!

  Wells, Farragut, and Roebling were lost in thought from their day on the California. But one thing they all knew without even verbalizing it.

  In the last few hours, the Civil War had changed.

  Chapter 20

  Secretary of Defense Robert Gates was on the phone with President Obama. “Mr. President, I have a simple but troublesome thing to tell you.”

  “Shoot B
ob,” said the President. Gates came right to the point. “We seem to have lost the USS California, a nuclear cruiser, off the coast of South Carolina.” The president peppered him with questions about what steps were being taken. Both men knew that the situation was out of their hands for the time being. “Keep me in the loop, Bob. Whatever I’m doing, tell them to put you through.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  ***

  The USS Ticonderoga steamed full speed to the last known location of the California. It would be on site within a half hour. Her forward sonar pinging freaked out every whale and dolphin in the Western Atlantic.

  Three H-65 Coast Guard rescue helicopters from Coast Guard Station Charleston were speeding toward the coordinates of the last fix. The Coast Guard Cutter Gallatin steamed toward the site as well. The Gallatin had a rescue submersible aboard. By protocol, the local Coast Guard Sector Commander, Captain Eric Buehler, had operational command of the rescue effort, but because this involved a US Navy warship, he would take orders directly from the Chief of Naval Operations.

  The lives of 630 American servicemen and women were at stake. Every man and woman on the rescue effort had that thought locked in their minds.

  The California had been missing for twelve minutes.

  Chapter 21

  At 0930 on the morning of April 17, Bradley met Chief Ray in the weapons department. As Bradley suggested, Ray told Andrea Rubin that the XO wanted to do a routine check of the department’s weapons so he could prepare a report for the captain. Rubin didn’t think much about it, although normal protocol would have been for Bradley to contact her, the head of the weapons department, directly.

  “Why don’t you show me the portable rockets, rocket propelled grenades, hand held surface to air missiles, and the other small armaments,” said Bradley.

  Bradley noticed that the ordnance was not only stacked neatly but was also wrapped in small bundles for easy moving. “Looks like a couple of guys could move this stuff with ease, Chief.”

  The chief got into details. “This entire bulkhead (he pointed to a wall area five feet deep, six feet high and three feet wide) can fit into one Zodiac. That’s why they pack the ammo like this, so that it can be moved ashore easily.”

  Bradley lowered his voice. “How often is inventory taken?”

  “Once a day Commander,” the chief leaned closer to Bradley, “by yours truly,” he whispered. Bradley’s eyes widened.

  “I wonder how long it would take a couple of men to load that wall of ammo into a Zodiac,” Bradley said in a low voice.

  “Exactly 17 minutes. Add 10 if it’s a couple of older guys (Ray winked). We train our men in loading Zodiacs as a drill.”

  Bradley asked, “Is the other bulkhead, the one on the starboard side, a mirror image of the one to port?”

  “Exactly the same, sir.” He anticipated Bradley’s next question. “Yup, Two Zodiacs, double the bang for the ride.”

  “Will that leave any room for carbines?”

  “Yes, sir. 50 carbines per Zodiac on top of the other items. But it means only one man per Zodiac if that’s the amount of cargo they’ll carry. But that’s no big deal. A Zodiac is easier to drive than a tricycle.”

  The chief warmed to his weapons moving skills. “There’s a way you can increase the capacity of weapons storage by 100 percent.” This was better than Bradley had expected.

  “How do you do that?” asked Bradley. The chief pointed to a survival raft capable of holding hold six people.

  “Each of those babies can hold the same as a Zodiac without a man on board.” said the chief.

  “All together Chief, what do we have?”

  Chief Ray took his inventory sheet from his pocket. “Here’s the list sir: 50 M4A1 automatic carbine rifles; 100 rocket propelled grenades, 25 Colt 45s; 20 surface-to-air missiles including shoulder held launchers. We also have a total of 2,000 rounds of ammo for the carbines, and 750 rounds for the 45s.”

  “Looks like you could start your own gun company, Chief.”

  “Commander, you’re lookin’ at one ass whuppin,’ ammo movin,’ game changer." The only thought that plagued Bradley was how they would off load the weapons without being seen.

  Chapter 22

  General Robert E. Lee was the senior military advisor to Confederate President Jefferson Davis. He would soon be given provisional command of the Army of Northern Virginia, although he wouldn't take full command until the summer of 1862. Lee wanted to see firsthand the result of the opening hostilities of the war. The entire Confederate military looked upon Lee as the leader because of his reputation, although he didn't carry an official title as commander of the Confederate forces. Lee also wanted to talk to General Beauregard about this mysterious Gray Ship that seemed to be the talk of the South.

  After he toured Fort Sumter he could see that the result of the battle was a lot of masonry rubble. The walls were pockmarked from cannon fire, but the structure itself was still sound, a valuable new addition to the Confederacy’s defenses.

  General Beauregard invited Lee into his quarters in Charleston. He occupied a large office that had once housed an investment company. The space was 30 by 40 feet, equipped with leather furniture and a Persian rug. In the middle hung a crystal chandelier. This man doesn’t look ready for battle, thought Lee.

  “First, General, let me congratulate you on your successful siege of Fort Sumter,” Lee said. “I understand that our Navy was also of great assistance in preventing the Yankees from being resupplied.”

  “Yes General, I would say that the Navy was crucial to the outcome. If they had been successful in restocking food and ammunition, the Yankees could have held on for a much longer time.” Lee appreciated it when a commander gave credit to forces not under his command.

  “I’m concerned, General, about all of the reports I’ve been getting about some strange Gray Ship,” Lee said.

  “I too am concerned about the Gray Ship, sir. I haven’t seen it myself, but from the descriptions I’ve received, it sounds like it could be 600 feet long, although some reports have it as long as 2,000 feet. Its deck, according to reports, is covered with strange looking weapons. It has incredible speed and maneuvering ability, according to one of our captains who saw the ship up close.”

  “And we only know her as The Gray Ship?” asked Lee.

  “I almost forgot to tell you, sir. She is the USS California. She bears the number ‘36’ prominently on either side of her bow. One of our boats got close enough to read the lettering on her stern.”

  “Since we have a name and a number, do we not know anything about her?” asked Lee.

  “That’s the most puzzling thing of all, General. I contacted the local office of our Navy Department. They keep a list of all ships of the Union Navy. Neither the name USS California nor the number 36 appears on the list. We have a very effective spy in the Union Navy Department who keeps the list up to date.”

  “Has anyone seen any evidence of hostile intent from the California?” asked Lee.

  “No sir, but she flies the Union flag, and we’re at war. Hostile actions from that monstrous ship cannot be a long way off. We can’t identify many of the weapons that have been described, but we can assume they’re armaments because of their projectile shapes.”

  “From what you’ve heard, General, do you think one or more of our new ironclad ships could stand a chance against the California?” Lee asked.

  “From what I have heard, sir, I’m not sure our entire Navy could stand up against her.”

  “General,” said Lee, “I recommend posting lookouts at shore batteries along the coast. Have them make drawings of the ship. The ship probably moves too fast for a photograph. Once we have enough we can distribute the information to all of our naval forces.”

  “I agree, General Lee. I shall see to that at once.”

  So the North has a secret weapon, thought Lee.

  Chapter 23

  After his 45-minute morning workout, Jack Thurber holed himself up
in the ship’s library with his laptop and portable hard drive. Like most writers, he was a packrat. Technology makes it easy to be a hoarder, and even encourages it. His portable hard drive holds two terabytes of data and set him back less than a hundred bucks. All of the research for every book he wrote is on that hard drive, with a backup on his office computer back home. His good friend, a techie, poked fun at Jack about his habit of carrying all his data on a portable drive.

  “The cloud,” his friend said “is the only way to go.” All of his information could be carried on some remote server farm, backed up by dedicated computer dweebs.

  Jack pondered that, on April 10, 2013 (or was it 1861?), the cloud disappeared. He patted his portable hard drive.

  On orders from Captain Patterson he was reviewing all of the information he ever jotted down about time travel, specifically information on how to go back to the time you travelled from. In other words, how to get back to the wormhole.

  Jack enjoyed himself. Work, whether mental or physical is what drives him. It’s his life, a life that he had considered ending a few short years ago.

  Jack’s personnel file mentions that his wife Nancy had died in a car accident. What the file doesn’t say is that Jack witnessed the accident. Nor does it mention how much he loved her, cherished his every moment with her, and hated to be away from her. Nancy had taken her car to run an errand a half hour before Jack left the house to drive to a book interview. As he drove down the highway his eyes caught something in the air in front of him. In the opposite lane of travel, approximately 300 feet ahead, he saw a silver Lexus sedan, twisting and spinning crazily in the air. The car struck pavement and became airborne again, propelled by its momentum. After three bounces it came to a rest on its roof. He had one thought. It was more than a thought, more like a vice that gripped every square inch of his body and squeezed.