Prologue (29 page)

Ginter punched a few more keys. “I have no idea.”

“Did you set off the alarm from your computer?” deVere asked.

Ginter looked up, dumbfounded.
“From my computer?
No, of course not.
I can’t affect the fire alarms from my computer.”

“Then there’s a fire,” Amanda panted. “We’ve got to go.”

“Not quite yet,” deVere argued, looking at the lab door. “Lewis, what do you have?”

“She’s right,” Ginter answered. “We’ll never find another wormhole in time.” He pointed at the barricaded lab door. “There’s going to be firemen and District cops all over this building in a matter of minutes. We’ve got to go.”

“How much time do we have?” deVere pressed.

Ginter checked the computer screen. “Wormhole is open another one minute and 28 seconds. We’ve got to go now.”

DeVere hesitated and then stepped back to the gray metal filing cabinets at the rear of the room. Squatting slightly he wrapped both arms around one and began walking it away from the wall.

“Watch out,” Ginter barked. As deVere stood back Lewis Ginter threw himself at the empty cabinets and toppled them both over, exposing the jagged tear in the wall.

“Let’s go,” he said and stepped through the hole. DeVere stepped back to his desk and grabbed the duffle bag he had brought with him. He took Amanda’s hand and escorted her over the jagged sheet rock. He turned back to Pamela who, after a moment’s hesitation, stepped forward wordlessly and through the hole. DeVere took one last look around the lab, listened for a moment to the still wailing alarm, and followed her in.

The Accelechron was humming. Atop the pedestal a chronometer was counting down the time left in the wormhole opening. It was down to 55 seconds. Lewis Ginter grabbed Pamela’s hand and pulled the dazed woman toward the vortex. “You’ve just got to trust us on this,” he said kindly. “It’s not safe to stay here.”

Paul deVere grabbed Amanda’s hand and was about to follow when the history professor jerked away.

“Wait,” she said, and nimbly stepped back through the hole and into the lab. In a panic Paul looked at the chronometer, which now read 44 seconds. However, in just a few seconds Amanda
returned,
her pocketbook in hand.

“What the heck do you-?” he began, but her smile cut him off.

”If you can bring your duffle I can bring my purse. I had to,” she confided. She leaned and whispered in his ear.

Speechless, Paul deVere watched as Lewis Ginter and Pamela Rhodes walked into the vortex. Taking a deep breath he muttered, “Women,” took Amanda’s hand, and together they followed them in. Paul deVere felt
himself
splash in the sky.

Chapter 14

“You bastard!”

For a moment Paul deVere thought that he was paralyzed. His mind was fogged and his body was unresponsive to his brain’s commands. He opened his eyes and mistily saw Amanda lying next to him, her face pushed into dirt. Beyond her, Pamela Rhodes was kicking a prostrate Lewis Ginter. Paul could see long grass in front of his face and could smell its sweetness. He felt the sun’s warmth on his face. He thought he was in some sort of meadow.

“You son of a bitch,” Pamela screamed as she kicked at Ginter again. “You and your fucking pervert friends slipped me some sort of date rape drug, that’s it, huh? Did you all have a good time with me?
Asshole!”

Pamela drew her right leg back again but Ginter was quicker. He caught her foot on the back swing and tumbled the woman to the ground.

“Nobody drugged you, damnit!” Ginter growled as he sat up. Next to Paul, Amanda stirred and opened her eyes. Paul’s body felt heavy and his head was pounding. He pushed his hands into the soft earth and tried to push himself up.

“Where are we?” Amanda asked, her eyelids flickering.

Paul gave a final heave and sat up. “More importantly, when are we? Holy shit, Lewis, did it work? Lewis?”

Lewis Ginter let go of Pamela’s leg and stood up. “The computer read
August 5, 1963
when I pushed ‘enter.’ I had the wormhole targeted for a park in the northeast
United States
.
Deerfield
Park
in
Manchester
,
New Hampshire
.”

Paul rubbed his forehead and looked around. He was in a grassy clearing. To either side he could see a tree line about 100 feet away. Between the tree lines the clearing sloped downward. He was on a hill and in the distance he could make out the skyline of a small city. He looked behind him. About 30 feet away, two black 19
^th
century cannons stood mounted on cement bases, their mouths pointed toward the city.

Amanda groggily studied the cannons. “Lewis, you put us back to the Civil War.”

Paul shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs. “I know this place. I’ve been here. It’s
Derryfield
Park
. Not
Deerfield
. You’re right.
In
Manchester
,
New Hampshire
.”

“You know this place?” Amanda asked, turning back from the cannons.

“I grew up one town over, in
Bedford
. I went to high school here,
West
High School
. And,” he chuckled, “I know that parking lot.” Paul pointed to the bottom of the clearing. Approximately 300 feet away a gravel parking lot stood empty.

“I used to come here with my girlfriend back in high school, in the late eighties. Nineteen
eighty-nine I
think. Yeah, that’s it.”

Paul jumped to his feet. “It actually worked, Lewis. We moved through space and time.”

Paul squinted at the low sun behind him. “It was evening when we left. We’ve definitely moved through time.” He turned to Lewis. “Do you know what time it is? I mean, in the day?”

Ginter rubbed his eyes. “The computer said the wormhole at this end would be open for just over five hours and thirty minutes starting at
3:38 a.m.
Since we left at the end of our opening it should be about
8:30
or maybe
9:00
in the morning.”

Paul nodded. “Judging from the sun I’d agree. What was the date?”

“
August 5, 1963
.
Monday.”

Paul bent down and grabbed a handful of grass. He pulled it up by its roots and pushed it to his face. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

“We’re here. It’s physical,” Paul said. He looked back up at the sky and let out a whoop. “We did it!”

He turned to Lewis. “Is it really 1963?”

Amanda raised herself off the ground and sat up.

“What happened to 1962?” she asked.

“I think the real question,” Lewis answered, icily turning to her, “is why Natasha and her friend were there? You mentioned a trip wire in your computer. What was that all about?”

“Someone hacked my computer,” Amanda answered.
“Must have gotten details.
You ought to be thanking me for installing the trip wire. It let me know they were on to us.”

Ginter didn’t take his eyes off her. “What was anything doing on your hard drive? Didn’t we tell you not to enter ANY details?”

“Paul said not my MIT office computer. This was my home computer.”

“Goddamnit, your home computer is linked to the office through the university circuit and can be hacked,” Ginter exploded. “Are you THAT stupid?”

“Me?” Amanda was fully awake now. “What about you? We’re supposed to have gone back to 1962. What the hell happened to that? You screwed us up. You put us into 1963. We’re now ten months too late to invade
Cuba
.”

“Ah, excuse me, are you guys serious or what? This wasn’t one of those date rape drug things? ‘
Cause
that would sound better right about now.”

The three turned to stare at Pamela who still sat on the grass. Paul had forgotten she was there.

Lewis shook his head. “No, no drugs. Not like I ever had to use them.”

“You three are shitting me, right?” Pamela asked. “You’re not trying to tell me we went back in time? Back to 19 fucking 63? Are you?”

Pamela paused, her eyes desperately moving from Ginter to deVere. “What about the bombs? Are you saying that you were building a fucking time machine all the time and you were lying to me?
To us?
Is that what you’re saying? Are you serious?”

When no one answered, Pamela jumped to her feet and staggered forward. “You’re crazy. You’re all fucking crazy. You drugged me and you’re all crazy. And who was that wacko with the gun to my head?
Another escapee from the lunatic asylum?
Part of Lewis’ scam plot?”

Pamela wheeled on Lewis. She was lurching forwards and back. She raised a hand to her forehead and tried to steady herself.

“Nice try, Lewis!” Pamela screamed. “Nice scam, asshole. Hire some bozo with a Russkie accent to scare the shit out of me with a toy gun, then drug me, bring me God knows where to some hill and tell me you have a time machine?”

She laughed hysterically. “It ain’t gonna’ work, Lewis! I’m not that stupid. Eckleburg ain’t that stupid. Lorrie ain’t that stupid. You and your pervert friends aren’t getting another fucking dime for you and deVere and, and you!”–Pamela pointed at Amanda still on the ground–“to stuff in some Swiss bank account!”

Pamela lurched forward and fell to her knees, still holding her head. Without standing up Amanda scrambled over and put her right arm around Pamela’s shoulders.