by Mike Parker
“That’s great news,” Nick cheered excitedly, “because I have a great idea for what we should do next.”
– 16 –
Let’s be Civil Now
The team had taken the weekend to recover from and revel in their Nixon mission. Nick especially needed some rest and downtime as he wore off the after effect of the mission stress. However, it was a lot for the others to process as well. After all, their friend had just told them that an important part of history, something they had learned from their textbooks growing up, never actually happened, at least not the first time. The weight of what the team was attempting was settling ever more firmly on their shoulders.
The Nixon mission had created much farther reaching consequences than their original time travel experiment had. They had all been positive, for the most part, as far as they could tell, this time. However, if they continued to go further back in time and make more and more significant changes, who knows what some of the repercussions would be. And surely the law of averages suggested that eventually one of their missions would go awry and the consequences may end up catastrophic.
Of course, they all felt the equal weight of all of history’s wrongs waiting to be righted. Now that they had tangibly proven that they could go back in time and affect positive change to the timeline, how could they allow the wrong and evil events of the past to just happen? How could they just stand by when they had the ability to fix and change things?
Monday morning the team assembled in the lab ready to discuss the subject of their next mission.
“I spoke to Emerson Michaels this morning,” Dr. Stevens stated. “He is the man who gives out all the synchrotron time slots. I informed him that the work Carl is doing is extremely important and asked him to give us, I mean you, top priority in regards to beam time.”
“That’s fantastic,” Carl cheered.
“I guess being a department head has its perks,” Nick chuckled.
“So, where are we headed next?” Ainsley inquired.
“Nick said he had an idea,” Carl remembered. “What was it?”
“When I was in 1972 Washington I saw the Grant Memorial and I couldn’t help thinking maybe there was something we could do with the Civil War,” the time traveler explained. “Perhaps there is no way to avoid it all together, but even if we could somehow shorten it or make it a little less bloody, wouldn’t that be worth it?”
“Indeed, it would,” Dr. Stevens agreed. “But we must be cautious.”
“The Doc is right,” the scientist stated. “The domino effect from that sort of thing could be immense.”
“But we could save hundreds of thousands of people,” Ainsley argued.
“Exactly,” the doctor said. “And that’s hundreds of thousands of people essentially added to the timeline. Can you imagine what that would do? People getting married to different people. Children being born who weren’t born previously. Other children not being born anymore, because their parents never met. It could change people’s jobs and where they lived. You could have soldiers with PTSD become violent or even homicidal. What impact could that have on others?”
“I see your point,” Nick conceded. “I just thought…”
“Now wait,” Carl interjected. “I’m not saying we should reject the idea out of hand, but we certainly need to proceed with caution.”
“Agreed,” Dr. Stevens added.
“Let me run some scenarios through the computer and see if there is a point in which we can redirect the timeline without risking major negative consequences. If we can find a mission with a high chance of success we’ll move forward. If not, we’ll have to look for something else.”
“That sounds fair,” Nick agreed.
“It will take a couple days for me to run all the simulations to predict the outcome of various actions,” the physicist explained. “Let’s meet back here on Thursday.”
“Sounds good,” Ainsley said. “In the meantime, I’ll do some research into the customs of the time period.”
“I’ll put in a request to Anthropology for an 1860’s outfit in Nick’s size,” the doctor suggested.
“I’ll brush up on my civil war history,” Nick added.
“It’s settled then,” Carl concluded. “We’ll each look into our assigned duties and reconvene here in a couple days.”
Three days seemed like plenty of time initially, but everyone on the team agreed that it had gone by exceedingly fast. They met again in Carl’s lab after lunch on Thursday afternoon to report on what, if any, progress each of them had made. Ainsley was the first to report to the group.
“I’ve made a long list of social do’s and don’t’ s for Nick to learn. I’ll go over them with him one on one later.”
“What about money?” Nick asked.
“Well you’re in luck there,” the reporter replied. “A couple years later and we’d be out panning for gold, but President Lincoln essentially created paper money to pay for the war. We should be able to print our own facsimile of the greenbacks, weather them a bit and pass them off as legit. People didn’t have the means for counterfeiting as much back then and the bills are such a new thing most people don’t really know what exactly they’re supposed to look like anyway.”
“Well, that’s good news,” the time traveler chuckled.
“Excellent work, Ainsley,” Dr. Stevens applauded.
“Who’s next?” Carl asked.
“Well,” Nick began, “I’ve done my best to get acquainted with the major names, places, and events of the war, especially early on. I should be able to navigate things relatively well. The rest I’ll have to fake my way through, I guess.”
“And I have the anthropology department working on a couple outfits suited for the period. I’m afraid jeans and t-shirt aren’t going to cut it this time!” the doctor stated.
“I guess that just leaves me,” Carl said tentatively. “I ran dozens of scenarios trying to find a point where we could dramatically shorten the war without irreparable damage to the rest of the timeline. The best-case scenario is likely less impact than we’d like, causing more damage than we’d like, but it really is the best we can do.”
“So, you’re saying, we either do this one thing or we leave the Civil War alone altogether?” Nick clarified.
“Yes,” his friend confirmed. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“Okay, then,” the report said. “What’s the one thing?”
“Lincoln’s Assassination,” Carl stated boldly. He gave his friends a moment and then continued. “As you all know, Abraham Lincoln was killed when a man slipped into his room and stabbed him multiple times just prior to his speech at Gettysburg on November 19th, 1863.”
“That’s right,” Dr. Stevens confirmed. “It was a Confederate soldier, disguised as a union officer.”
“Exactly,” the physicist replied. “The speech has been published and many historians speculate that it would have roused the nation, had it actually been given. The war would not have ended immediately, but it would have ended sooner.”
“I just studied up on this,” Nick chimed in. “After Lincoln’s death his V.P. Hannibal Hamlin, which is a seriously cool name by the way, anyways, Hamlin took over as president.”
“Hamlin was a decent guy and a good politician,” Carl resumed the debriefing, “but he did not have the charisma and strength of leadership that Lincoln did. Which is why General Grant was pulled off the field and put on the ballot in 1865. Grant won of course and spent essentially the first two of his three presidential terms fighting the war.”
“So, you’re suggesting we send Nick back to stop Lincoln’s assassination?” Ainsley asked.
“My tests predict,” her brother explained, “that if Lincoln survived, the war would likely still continue another couple years, but should end significantly sooner and be significantly less bloody than it exists in our current timeline.”
“What about downsides?” the doctor probed.
“There defini
tely are some,” Carl admitted. “Some family trees get shaken up a bit. A few storylines get bumped around a bit, but as far as I can anticipate there are no major alterations to vital events in our historical timeline. Slavery ends a little sooner, US economy recovers a little quicker, the civil rights movement jumps ahead about a decade and most importantly the war doesn’t stretch out over a dozen years.”
“What do you guys think?” Nick asked nervously. He was not nervous about whether or not they would vote in favor to the mission. Even though it had been his idea from the start, he trusted the discernment of his friends, so if they thought it was too risky, he was okay with that. No, he was more nervous that they might say yes. This was a big mission with big consequences, not to mention a whole lot of ways for things to go really wrong, including Nick taking a stray musket ball to the chest and being left in the hands of an 1800’s doctor. “Carl, you studied this thing the most, what do you say?”
“I think it could go either way,” the scientist stated. “There are lots of upsides if it goes right, but there is room for it to go quite wrong too.”
“But which one outweighs which?” his sister asked.
“I think I would vote to go,” Carl said cautiously.
“I agree,” the doctor said. “But we need to make sure that we’ve done our due diligence and Nick is as well prepared for this as he possibly can be.”
“Ains?” Nick asked tentatively. “It’s got to be unanimous or I won’t go.”
“Doc’s right,” the reporter said thoughtfully. “We need to make sure that we’ve covered and recovered all our bases, and then, yes.”
“Okay,” the time traveler spoke after a deep breath, “Where do we start?”
– 17 –
Where There’s a Wills There’s a Way
“All set to go?” Carl asked without turning around as Nick entered the lab.
“Yeah, I think so, although I’m not nuts about the wardrobe.”
“I assure you it is authentic,” Dr. Steven’s stated entering the lab as well.
“What’s wrong with them,” the scientist began as he turned to look at his friend. “Oh, my!” he said bursting into laughter. Nick stood in front of him in full Union soldier dress uniform. He wore the standard Prussian blue overcoat, a linen shirt, sky blue fabric pants and, of course, a Hardee hat.
“I think he looks rather sharp,” Ainsley declared.
“Let’s get on with it,” Nick said flatly.
“Have you two settled on a plan?” the doctor asked.
“Yes,” the reporter replied. “With a little more digging we discovered that that assassin gained access to Lincoln’s room by telling the guard on duty, that an officer had requested him elsewhere and that he would be the soldier’s relief.”
“Apparently, the soldier was either real trusting or real gullible,” Nick added. “Nathan Duquesne was left guarding the door of the man he had come to kill. When the moment was right, Duquesne entered Lincoln’s room and attacked.”
“So, what do you plan to do?” Carl asked.
“The same thing,” his sister explained. “Nick just has to get to the guard outside Lincoln’s room before Duquesne does.”
“Okay,” the physicist stated, “We’ll send you in around noon the day before the speech. You’ll have 36 hours to stop Duquesne’s attempt and make sure there wasn’t a backup plan in case the first assassin failed. In you go, my friend,” Carl smiled opening the chamber door.
Nick stepped inside the B.I.R.D. and then leaned close to his friend and spoke softly, “Since I’m about to be two hundred years away in a minute, this seems like a good time to tell you that it is possible Ainsley and I kissed last night.”
“Beam is powering up,” the doctor said.
“Gotta run, buddy,” Nick smiled broadly closing himself inside the chamber.
“B.I.R.D. is online,” a stunned-looking Carl informed the rest of the team.
Nick quickly assessed his surroundings as soon as the light of the teleporter had faded. He stood in a small cluster of trees just off the road and about a hundred yards outside the town of Gettysburg. He stepped out of the brush and onto the road which was nothing more than dirt worn clear by horse hooves and wagon wheels. Faking his way around in 1972 was one thing, but he could tell immediately that this was going to be a whole new ball game. He started walking toward the small town, reviewing all the material he and Ainsley had covered the night before. He reviewed the kiss a little too, but mostly the historical data.
Job number one was to not draw too much attention to himself or interact with anyone unless absolutely necessary. Job two was to find a house belonging to David Wills. Wills was an attorney and the organizer of tomorrow’s cemetery dedication and more importantly President Lincoln’s host for the night. It didn’t take too much to find the three-story red brick building as it was one of the largest in town and without a doubt the busiest one that day. Nick knew finding the house would likely be the easy part. Finding a way inside would be much more difficult.
The time traveler did his best to keep an eye on the house throughout the afternoon and make note of all the comings and goings. He tried not to stay in one location too long so as to avoid suspicion. Thanks to Ainsley’s counterfeit greenbacks he was able to purchase a meal at the local hotel, which he enjoyed quickly and then moved on. Occasionally, when he was sure of privacy, he would slip out his phone and swipe through a series of pictures he had taken the previous night. The photos were of the faces of some of the important players who would be in town for the dedication. He knew buddying up to one of these well-known individuals was likely his best bet of getting inside the well-guarded house.
Evening came and Nick had yet to find his way in. He watched from across the street as he could see Lincoln, Wills, and others seated around a large dining table, enjoying a feast of an evening meal together. His time was running out. Just as he was about to move to a new vantage point, Nick observed one particular guest excuse himself from the table. This could be the break he was looking for.
The time traveler slipped quickly and unnoticed around the back of the house where the latrine shed stood. He just caught a glimpse of the man entering the shed. Nick waited a couple minutes and then walked up to the shed to wash his hands in the basin set just outside the door. He continued to wash until the man exited the shed. Nick stepped away from the bowl and dried his hands on a small towel hanging on a nearby line.
“Hey, aren’t you,” Nick addressed the man nervously. “Yeah, you’re Edward Everett!”
“Yes, I am,” the man washing his hands replied, sounding pleased to be recognized.
“Wow, it is a great pleasure to meet you, sir,” Nick gushed. “For my money, you are one of the best orators in the nation, if you don’t mind me saying.”
“No, I don’t mind,” the man grinned.
Nick handed Everett the towel and continued to butter him up. “I simply can not wait to hear your speech tomorrow at the dedication. I’m sure it will be a spectacular work of prose.”
“Why thank you, young man,” the orator beamed, returning the towel to Nick to be rehung on the line.
“Say, I fancy myself a bit of a speech maker myself. Nothing nearly as eloquent as you of course, but I’d sure like to be someday.”
“You must constantly hone your skills, my boy. I give a lengthy discourse every day, whether there be an audience present or not.”
“You don’t say,” Nick gushed further as the two started walking back towards the house together. “I don’t suppose you would be willing to give a young fella like me some advice on how to get to your level of discourse?”
“Well,” Everett began, with no hint of embarrassment, “There are some levels that not everyone can reach, even with a lifetime of practice. However, with diligence and an adequate amount of natural talent, it is possible for one to advance his skills.” As the speech maker regaled Nick with tips and pointers the pair walked past the guard at the rear d
oor and into the house without breaking stride. Unfortunately, for Nick, it took longer than he would have liked to shake his backstage pass once he was inside the house, as Mr. Everett seemed to be an unending source of advice. The good news was he still had plenty of time to do what he needed to do.
Once inside, it was easy to keep a low profile as there were many Union soldiers of varying rank moving about the house. The time traveler couldn’t help but be impressed with the accuracy of the Anthropology department’s recreated wardrobe. According to the report he and Ainsley had read, the attack on the president would occur around 10:30 that evening. Timing things right would be critical. Relieve the guard too soon and he might discover the deception and return with a squad of soldiers. Show up too late and Duquesne would have already made his move.
Nick strolled casually through the parlor around 10:15 and gazed at the clock on the fireplace mantel. It was now or never. He made his way up to the third floor and located the room the president was staying in. He knew it must be the president’s room as it was the only one in that hallway with an armed guard. He walked briskly up the guard and then stood at attention.
“Are you Paul Simms?” the time traveler asked in a strong voice.
“Yes,” the guard replied.
“Colonel Sanders has just arrived in town and he wants to see you right away. He is in the army camp just outside of town.”
“What is this about?” Simms asked.
“I do not know,” Nick replied sounding as confident as he could muster. “The Colonel just sent me to relieve you of your post so you could go speak with him immediately.”
“Very well,” the soldier said stepping away from the door. “Colonel Sanders, you say?”
“That is correct.”
“Alright,” Simms conceded but then turned to leave one last instruction, “Guard that door with your life soldier. You know who’s in there, don’t you?”