“Afraid not,” Heather said coolly. Her earlier pleasant personality was gone.
Anne sighed. Walk away now. You can’t afford it and you know it. Steven will have a fit. “When could you deliver it?”
“We don’t deliver over the weekend. Would Monday morning be okay?”
What are you doing, Annabelle? Leave your credit card in your purse and tell her you’ve changed your mind. “Monday morning would be just fine.”
“Wonderful. Please step over here and we’ll do the paperwork. Let me get you a chair, too. When are you due?”
“August seventeenth.” Anne looked at the desk again, swore at herself one more time and then followed after Heather Browning.
“Will that be check or charge, or can we work up a payment plan for you?”
Don’t even open your purse. Just leave it in there and go. You don’t need the payments and you certainly don’t need Steven getting upset with you. “Visa,” Anne said and her hand passed the card to the saleswoman.
“Please fill this out. We’ll need directions to your residence for the delivery van. I’ll be right back with your receipt and warranty certificate.”
Anne picked up the pen, filled in the information and then waited nervously for Heather Browning to return. She had never done anything like this before—making a big purchase without consulting with Steven first. She felt as though her nerves were going to poke through her skin. In a way, she hoped the card would be rejected.
Heather returned and sat before Anne. “Please sign here,” she said. Anne did so. “Here is the warranty. We guarantee it for five years, unconditional. If you or someone can be home between 10:00 and 12:00, Mrs. ...” she looked at the delivery form, “Waring, our delivery guys will ... ah ...” Her mouth closed and she looked at the charge card she was starting to hand back. “Annabelle Waring?” she said quietly and then looked at her customer.
“Yes.” Anne said.
Heather’s mouth slowly came open. “Oh my!”
“What’s the matter?”
Heather’s mouth closed again. “Nothing. Nothing. You just look so familiar and your name is so similar, but it’s been so many years. It may just be my bad memory. Never mind. Just a coincidence I guess.”
“What kind of coincidence?”
“The person I told you about earlier, who told me I would sell this desk today. I would swear she had the same name as you. But that was over 40 years ago. I was just a child so how could I possibly remember the name? Very strange.”
“It certainly is.”
“Well, congratulations on your purchase, Mrs. Waring. Do you have a place picked out for it in your home?”
“No, I don’t actually. That might turn into a problem.” She stood and extended her hand. “Thank you, Mrs. Browning.”
Anne noted 97 degrees on the bank clock and then had to brake hard for a sudden yellow light. The red light glared at her while her leg strained against the clutch pedal. A trickle of sweat ran down her back. She had a nearly overwhelming urge to lie down on the seat. Instead she closed her eyes, for only a second she was sure. A honk snapped her eyes open. The light was green. Her aching leg gave up the clutch with a jerk and she, the monster, and her eight-month-old fetus bounced into the middle of the intersection where she found the brake and clutch at the same time, bringing them all to a sudden halt. Then, with the skill of an Indi driver and a scream of burning rubber, she left the intersection and the honker behind.
By the time Anne pulled into her driveway, her embarrassment had eased, but her frustration with the heat, and her anger at having to deal with the truck had not. Her body ached and she felt like she had been beaten up and then thrown into a sauna. She struggled out of the truck, slammed the door as hard as she could and marched into the townhouse. It was a brand-new unit they could hardly afford, but, thank God, it had central air conditioning. I do not want to ever again be pregnant in the summer, she told Steven. After spending three summers in Charleston, we should have known better then to plan a summer pregnancy.
There was no blinking light on the answering machine, so she poured a glass of orange juice and went directly upstairs. A cool shower was all she could think about. It was 5:15 and she had to be out the door by 6:30 in order to pick up Steven by 7:00. Plenty of time. She dropped her clothes into a pile and stepped into the shower.
The cool, hard spray beat against her head, cascaded off her face, down her swollen breasts and around her protruding belly. She thought she heard the telephone, slid open the shower door and listened. Nothing. She stepped back into the spray and ran her hands around the skin-covered cocoon in which her baby girl grew. She smiled. Since the day they were married she dreamed of having a little girl, but Steven was insistent on a boy. They had already agreed on her father’s name, Robert, and his father’s name, Troy. Steven wouldn’t even discuss a girl’s name. Anne felt a kick. “Hi, Elizabeth Anne,” she said in response. “This is your Mommy.”
On the fourth ring, the machine came on and Steven’s voice told the caller they had reached the Waring residence and to please leave a message. “Anne Honey, it’s me. It looks like we’re going to have to work late. I should be able to get a ride. I’ll call again if I don’t. I love you.”
Steven stepped from the office into the lab and glanced at the clock. 5:20. His concern that Anne wasn’t home left him, and his mind returned to The Project. They called it by no other name and didn’t talk about it outside the building. The Project had been going on for more than four years. Funding was coming from a company called Broad Horizons. His paychecks were regular, drawn on an account out of Atlanta. Although secrecy was of the utmost importance, money always seemed to be tight, so security was the responsibility of the team members. Besides, there was less of a chance of someone snooping around if it didn’t look like there was something to hide.
He approached Jerry who was bent over a computer terminal, scrolling through a series of Pie charts. He watched for a minute and then said, “The spectrograph is calibrated. I believe we can do the test tonight if everyone is in agreement. What do you think, Jerry?”
Jerry stared at Steven for a couple of seconds and then said, “Get the word to everyone to meet in the conference room at 1900 and we’ll do the final talk-through. After the meeting we’ll perform the full power test, and check grid and RP3 alignments.” Jerry was the team leader, and nothing happened without his knowledge and say so. Everyone knew it, and accepted his authority without question.
“And if everything is ready?”
“We’ll sedate Charlie.”
Steven beamed. He wanted to throw a fist in the air and yell aloud, “Yes!” but he was a professional. He had been waiting over a month for this test. Back in early June they did one test with a baseball that was successful. It was more than successful. It was beautiful. The ball was sent forward 24 hours. That was 24 of the longest hours any of them had ever spent. Few of the team hardly slept. Right to the second, 24 hours after it disappeared, the baseball reappeared exactly as calculated. After analyzing the data, the team decided that in two weeks the live test could happen. And then disaster. A lightning strike. Visible damage was minimal; however nothing could be trusted to chance so every piece of equipment, every circuit board, every component had to be inspected. Expensive surge protection equipment was installed along with four lightning rods. Now, finally, after nearly a month delay, they were ready once again. Steven headed for the control room to tell the others.
Anne stepped out of the shower, feeling much better. She went into the nursery to borrow the baby powder again. It made her feel elegant and right now she needed to feel anything but pregnant. The nursery was ready, had been for weeks, but it seemed every other day they were buying something else for it. She thought about Doctor Rose’s declaration that it would be a girl and had the urge to go shopping. No! she thought. We can’t afford to buy anything else until Elizabeth Anne is born. Especially after the desk.
She started to throw
on anything, and then decided she deserved to be taken out to dinner—a good place to break the news of Elizabeth Anne and the roll top desk. Instead, she chose her best maternity outfit. Hair, makeup, nails, perfume, and suddenly the bedside clock radio read 6:43. She cursed at herself for losing track of time. He would pick at her. Until she became pregnant, she was never late for anything. “You’re the most time-driven person I have ever met,” he told her one time. In the last few months she couldn’t seem to keep track of anything if it involved timing and he always made fun of her. Moving as quickly as her swollen body would allow, she grabbed her keys and purse and went straight out the door. The monster started on the second try. “A record!” she cheered out loud, and then backed out and headed for the Navy base.
At 1850, Jerry instructed the team to power up so that they could go straight into full power tests after the meeting. Steven had already brought the time controller on line and started double-checking various time scenarios. Anything beyond seven days was no longer counted in hours but in 24-hour periods. Tonight’s live test with Charlie was again going to be only 24 hours ahead, but the entire system had to be tested at full power. Checking to be sure the test/live switch was in the test position, Steven punched in, “Back - 44 years.” The computer displayed 16,437, the number of days in that time period, and the date, July 17, 1943. He checked the power level displays on all three phases of the retro-loop, and the platen levels, as well as the buildup voltage in the progressive separator. Everything matched the graphs they had developed over the last year.
“Let’s go, Steven,” Jerry half suggested and half ordered as he headed for the conference room. Steven paused briefly to reset everything back to zero, which was the routine when walking away from the controllers. “Steven!” Jerry yelled, this time from down the hall. Steven paused one more time, and then turned away. The computer display still read July 17, 1943; 16,437 days. He didn’t want to delay this meeting.
“Be back soon, Charlie!” he announced and then rushed to catch up with Jerry. Charlie had already been placed in the huge, glass transport cage. He wiggled his nose but otherwise sat still. His overly floppy ears drooped by his side. He hadn’t been fed in eight hours in the hopes that this test would happen tonight.
The Marine guard eyed the sticker on the windshield of the old truck, and then with the efficiency of a New York traffic cop, waved Anne onto the Charleston Navy Base. The lab was set up in an old World War II barracks at the North end of the base, in the area of the Navy Shipyard. She parked in the gravel lot. The five vehicles also parked in the lot told her that everyone was still there and that they were probably working late. That wasn’t unusual, but Steven hadn’t called. He always called. She was irritated that she had rushed out the door and he wasn’t ready to go.
To pass the time she pulled the ultrasound photo from her purse. “Elizabeth Anne!” She smiled and put the photo in her pocket to show Steven. The heat in the truck became unbearable. It was air conditioned inside. She slid out of the truck.
She was wearing sensible shoes, however, the mixture of dirt, gravel and dried up ruts nearly caused her to fall several times. By the time she stepped into the office her ankles hurt more than usual, and there was no place to sit. She wandered around the room, analyzing the pictures of ships and men in the old uniforms, until she was totally bored. A large clock on one wall read 7:13. Looking down the hall, she could see that the door with the cipher lock, the one that was always closed, stood open. She listened for sounds but heard only the hum of equipment. “Hello!” she announced apprehensively. No response. Moving slowly down the hall, she announced her greeting once more. Again, no response. She looked at the ten-button security lock on the open door, poked her head in and once more said, “Hello!” The room was indeed empty. She started to proceed further down the hall in hopes of finding someone. She knew that she should have stayed in the front office, but, Hell, what are they going to do to a pregnant lady? It was then, as she started to pass the door, that she spotted a rabbit in a large, glass box taking a good portion of one end of the room. She went in.
“Oh, how cute!” She placed her purse on a shelf above a panel of gages and switches, and then stepped across the room and into the glass enclosure. The rabbit sniffed her hand and then lay back down. Anne sat cross-legged next to him. “You’re hungry, aren’t you baby?” She stroked his soft fur. “Sorry I don’t have anything for you.” Out of the corner of her eye, something move, followed by a click. She looked and saw nothing. She returned to the rabbit. Several seconds passed and there was another click; another movement. She looked. Her purse was dangling from the panel by its strap. Suddenly lights were coming on throughout the room, and there were motors starting up. She started to struggle to her feet but was forced back down by a deafening high pitch wail. She covered her ears, and again tried to struggle to her feet. Without her hands, it was impossible, and uncovering her ears wasn’t an option. She made it to one knee before being blinded by an intense white light. She collapsed to the floor, trying to cover her ears and eyes at the same time. Just when she thought she would go insane, the sound stopped; the white light persisted. Instinctively she curled into a ball to protect herself and her baby, scared of what she couldn’t see. The rabbit startled her. She pulled it in and hugged it close. She lost track of up or down. Her head spun as though she was coming off a carnival ride. Then she heard Steven’s voice, foggy and far away, the words confusing.
“Steven,” Anne whispered. “Steven!” she screamed, and then there was darkness and silence.
And sleep. Deep, deep sleep ... and dreams.
CHAPTER 2
Friday ~ July 17, 1987
When Steven walked into the conference room, Jerry was barking orders. A box of Cheerios disappeared into a cabinet. Cups, silverware and dishes dropped noisily into the sink. Hands and arms moved quickly to clear and clean the table.
“We need a maid.” An old joke.
“We need to stop being slobs.”
Jerry dropped a computer printout and yellow legal pad on the table. “Let’s get started gentlemen.”
Everyone sat down, some grabbing a soda out of the refrigerator, others a cup of coffee.
“First, is there anyone who at all feels, even remotely, that we don’t have a go yet?”
There was silence from the other six at the table.
“Have there been any variations during any of the testing today that I don’t already know about?”
Thomas Bradshaw, who procured the voltage stabilization equipment, spoke up. “The fluctuations coming into the building have been unusually high.”
“Voltage or frequency?”
“Both. However, the stabilizer has performed splendidly, always staying within the one half of one percent tolerance.”
“Do you foresee any problems?”
“None at all.”
“Good. Let’s proceed with the check-off and then the walk-through.”
Steven was anxious, but probably no more or less than anyone else in the room. He understood the importance of this procedure and totally turned his mind to it.
“What about weather?”
“Just got off the phone with the airport. The usual twenty percent. Nothing on radar within a hundred-miles.”
“I’m sorry, what was that last part?”
“Nothing on radar within a hundred-miles.”
“Good. Would someone kick off the AC?”
The air conditioner went silent. “That’s better.” Only the whine of the refrigerator could be heard, as well as the hum of equipment from down the hall. Something about that irritated Jerry but he didn’t know what. He closed the conference room door. “Let’s begin.”
They went item by item, each requiring a brief discussion before moving on to the next. They were only a few minutes into the first page when the quiet whine of equipment from down the hall suddenly changed in pitch and volume. “What the ...?” Chairs scraped, one hit the floor, others hit each other.
Jerry and Steven collided at the door, then bolted, one behind the other, down the hall toward the intense white light streaming out of the lab. Steven reached for his goggles, normally hanging around his neck, then remembered laying them on his chair at the control panel. He rushed to them, knowing better than to look toward the glass cage until he had them on. He dropped them over his face just as something hit him in the leg.
He looked down ... a bag?
Purse?
He turned his head toward the glass cage and screamed, “Anne!” The whine stopped. He looked at the control panel and knew he couldn’t stop it from there. But, he could kill the power. Thomas was at the power panel.
“Shut it down!” He yelled. Thomas looked at Jerry. Jerry shook his head.
“Shut it down!” Steven screamed again and ran for the power panel. Jerry stepped in the way.
“No, it’s already gone too far. It could kill her.”
“You don’t know that!” Steven raged at him.
“You don’t know that it wouldn’t.”
He turned back and shouted, “Anne!” He wanted to run in and pull her out but dared not. “Anne, it’ll be Okay! It’ll be okay! I’m sorry!”
“Steven!” He heard was ragged; then the white light flared and went out.
All goggles came off, except Steven’s. He stared in shock at the spot where only seconds before his wife lay curled in a ball. Jerry reacted quickly; business-like. “Check everything. Give me full reports. Make sure there were no glitches. We should have her back in twenty-four hours.”
Twenty-four hours, Steven thought. That’s right, twenty-four hours. If everything works she should be back tomorrow night.
“I want to know how this happened.” Jerry looked at Steven. “How did she get in here?”
Steven slid the goggles to his forehead. “I don’t know. I called her and told her not to pick me up tonight.”
“No! How did she get in HERE? This lab is supposed to be locked at all times.”
Sabre-Toothed Cat Trilogy Page 124