Box Set - The Time Magnet Series Page 12

  “Lt. Thurber, please come to my office.”

  Jack appeared in the Captain’s office within two minutes. “Yes, Captain?”

  “I’m concerned about the crew, Jack. Are we telling them enough?”

  “Is there a problem, if I may ask?” said Jack. Ashley told Jack about Father Rick’s experience in the crew’s mess, how morale was starting to get dicey because people didn’t have a sense of their future.

  “I may have something that will make things better, or at least make people feel better. I’m working on a spreadsheet to map the incidents of time away versus elapsed time in the present. It’s trickier than it sounds because I never dug too deeply into that issue in my book. But I do have all of my interview notes, so I should have something for you by tomorrow.”

  “When I’m done with this spreadsheet, Captain, I think we’ll have some good news for the crew. Today is April 17. We’ve been in the past for seven days. What the crew will be happy to know is that we’ve been gone for only a few minutes, maybe hours, in 2013 time. It’s impossible to calculate exactly because we’ll only know how long we’ve been gone in retrospect. Remember the guy from World War I. He was gone for eight months in the past but only five minutes in the present.”

  “Thank God you’re aboard, Jack,” Ashley said as she stepped closer and looked into his eyes.

  He held her gaze and said, in a soft voice, “I thank God I am, too.”

  Chapter 36

  President Lincoln told Navy Secretary Wells to arrange a meeting with the Captain of the California. He also wanted Secretary of State Seward and Secretary of War Cameron to be at the meeting. Commander Campbell would be there also.

  Wells loved his new toy, the two-way radio. “Lima Juliette, Lima Juliette, this is Alpha Foxtrot, over.”

  “Alpha Foxtrot, this is Lima Juliette, go ahead,” said the officer of the deck.

  “May I please speak to the Captain,” said Wells. Ashley was on the bridge at the time and the OOD handed her the radio, telling her that Secretary Wells was on the radio.

  “This is Captain Patterson. Good morning, Mr. Secretary.”

  “President Lincoln would like to meet with you and Commander Campbell at 11:30 this morning,” said Wells.

  “We shall be there, sir.”

  Ashley imagined coming home to her late husband Felix. “How was your day, Hon?” Felix would ask. “Oh, let’s see,” she imagined saying, “Got up early, showered, had breakfast and met with Abraham Lincoln. Just a routine day.”

  The California was still anchored in Chesapeake Bay. At 0900 two sailors swung the boat davits over the side of the ship and secured cables to the bow and stern of the motor launch. One of them hit a toggle switch, lowering the boat to the water. The day was mild, with a bright sun and temperatures in the lower 60s. As Ashley stepped onto the ladder, the boatswain’s pipe sounded throughout the ship, followed by the announcement, “California, departing.”

  Ashley and Campbell were wearing their service dress blue uniforms. Ashley felt it was no longer necessary to disguise themselves in period civilian dress.

  They looked at each other. They didn’t speak. They knew they were about to make history, or maybe even change it.

  The launch motored its way along the Potomac, drawing stares from anyone ashore or on nearby boats. Petty Officer Donizzio, the boat’s captain, felt like a hero in a yacht club showing off his new boat. Donizzio eased the boat next to the pier, its twin diesel engines growling as he put it in reverse to stop the boat’s forward motion.

  A carriage awaited them. The driver opened the door and Ashley and Campbell climbed in. As their carriage rumbled up the cobblestone path to the White House entrance, Ashley glanced toward an area where the West Wing would eventually be, and noticed that the Rose Garden wasn’t there yet either. She said, “I’ve been to the White House a few times. It looks much better in 2013.”

  Although she didn’t like small talk, she would do anything, short of reciting nursery rhymes, to calm her growling stomach. An aide ran to open the carriage door for them. As Ashley stepped down her foot caught on a rung and she fell forward. The aide grabbed her arm and kept her from falling face first onto the cobblestones. Calm down, she said to herself.

  Ashley and Campbell were escorted to the President’s office, which was rectangular, not oval. An aide opened the door and motioned for them to enter. The thought crossed Ashley’s mind that the superintendant’s office at Annapolis was more opulent. Lincoln stood behind his desk with Wells and Seward to the right and War Secretary Cameron to the left. All eyes were on Ashley.

  Wells had purposely avoided telling Lincoln that Captain Ashley Patterson was a woman. Ashley is a common name for a man. He also neglected to tell him that she was colored. He wanted his President to have the wonderful shock that he had experienced a few days ago.

  Ashley had an urge to take out her smart phone and snap a picture of the expression on the men’s faces. If a dancing unicorn had galloped in instead of Ashley, their faces couldn’t have been more shocked. Obviously, Wells kept my identity a secret, Ashley thought.

  Navy Secretary Wells said, “Mr. President, Secretary Seward, Secretary Cameron, it is my honor to introduce Captain Ashley Patterson, Commanding Officer of the USS California. And this gentleman is Commander Ivan Campbell, the ship’s navigator.”

  Ashley and Campbell snapped sharp salutes. Ashley then offered her hand to the President, something a lady of the 1800s did not do. Lincoln, a man accustomed to taking charge of situations, was dumbfounded. He wasn’t sure if he should shake her hand or kiss it. He did both.

  “Madam Captain,” Lincoln said, “I must say that I’m surprised that you’re not only a woman, but a colored woman.” Ashley felt calmer, the ice broken. She also marveled at Lincoln’s voice. Thinking of the great marble statue in the Lincoln Memorial, she expected to hear a voice like rolling thunder or like Charlton Heston in The Ten Commandments. Instead, the President’s voice was slightly high pitched, and his manner of speaking almost soft in tone.

  She smiled and said, “In the good old twenty-first-century, Mr. President, we are known as black or African American.” She then told the men about Colin Powell, Condoleezza Rice, and Barack Obama, the nation’s first black President.

  Wells beamed. He saw that his friend Abe Lincoln, a man who shared his abolitionist views, was as pleased as he had been to see what human progress can mean.

  “We’ve received a thorough report,” Lincoln said, “thanks to Secretary Wells and the written document that Commander Campbell provided us.” Lincoln drew a deep breath. “Once we accepted the incredible fact that you have travelled here through time, and that you are able to tell us what will happen in the next four years, we all came to the same conclusion. We must terminate this horrible war as quickly as possible. I shall not abide the prediction that the war will bring 620,000 casualties. As God is my witness, may He smite me dead if I don’t do everything in my power to halt the slaughter.”

  ***

  Lincoln had a well-earned reputation as a raconteur, a man who would introduce a point with a lengthy story and humorous side stories. But this morning he got right to the point.

  “Captain,” said Lincoln, “the USS California is our weapon for bringing this war to a swift close. Our objective is simple, but its execution will not be easy. We will convince President Jefferson Davis and the command structure of the Confederacy that a protracted war will mean not only the defeat of the South, but its destruction.”

  “We will accomplish this task in three ways,” Lincoln continued. “First, the California will assist Navy Secretary Wells and his admiral staff in a naval blockade of the Southern states. Second, the California will actively engage the enemy at the Battle of Bull Run, the first major battle of the War, according to you folks. That will be three months from now. And third, but perhaps most important, we will fool the enemy into thinking that the California is but one of a vast fleet of Gray Ships about to devastat
e the rebel cause. Navy Secretary Wells and War Secretary Cameron will now tell us about the plan they have devised.

  Gideon Wells began. “The detailed plans for the California’s involvement at Bull Run will be worked on by your staff and one of our generals who will be stationed on the California. Now I will speak about the plan to confuse the South into thinking that the California is not alone.”

  “It will be called Operation Gray Ships," Wells continued. "The plan will have two parts. The first part involves your ship itself. The California is very fast with a top speed over thirty knots, faster than any other vessel on the water. You will steam from location to location, bringing with you fear and confusion. But besides speed, we want the California to actually appear to be more than one ship. Our plan is to paint over the large number 36 on your hull, and also to change the name of the ship on her stern on a regular basis. We also want the appearance of the deck itself to change from time to time. When people report seeing the ship they will see that their reports do not match up to the same ship. As a dramatist may put it, this will be a one act play with multiple costume changes.”

  “Your objective,” War Secretary Cameron said, “is to be seen, contrary to typical naval operations. Of course, if you’re fired upon, you will fire back. Is there any concern about that, Captain?”

  “It will be the Confederate ship’s captain who will have cause for concern, sir.”

  “Captain,” continued Wells, “do you have enough personnel on board to do this work?”

  “I believe we do, sir. I know we have two excellent officers in our engineering department to make this plan successful. If we need additional workmen and carpenters, I will ask for your assistance.”

  “And you shall get it,” said Wells.

  “The second part of Operation Gray Ships," said Wells, "will be more literary than military. We have contacts at all major newspapers, and we are going to see to it that articles about the Gray Ships are published regularly. We need not worry about putting them in Southern papers. Confederate spies will bring the papers south as soon as they are published. I understand, Captain, that the fellow I met, Lieutenant John Thurber, is a skilled writer and journalist. Please tell the lieutenant that he will write the articles.”

  Secretary of State Seward stood. He looked at Lincoln and said, “Mr. President, I believe it would be accurate to say that never in the history of warfare has one military unit borne such a grave responsibility. The USS California can end this war.”

  Lincoln rose from his seat at the end of the table. He leaned forward, supported by his long arms.

  “Captain Patterson, Secretary Seward is correct. The California is the key to a swift victory. God works in strange ways, and He has seen fit to bring you to us from another time. In His justice we will end this terrible war, and He will also aid me in ending human bondage. As you know, Madam Captain, vast thousands of people of your race are at this very moment enslaved. I thank God that He has brought us Captain Ashley Patterson to show us what freedom can become.”

  Everyone in the room stood, faced Ashley, and gave her a loud round of applause. She nodded her head, proud that she managed to fight back tears.

  ***

  Ashley sensed that the meeting was about to end. She had to have a private word with Lincoln, and it wouldn’t happen unless she asked.

  Ashley said, after the applause stopped, “I thank you, Mr. President, and I thank all of you gentlemen for the confidence you’ve placed in the California. May I have a private word with you, Mr. President?”

  Ashley knew that her request may be inappropriate, even insubordinate, but she knew she had to speak to Lincoln. “Of course, Madam Captain,” said Lincoln. Everyone filed out of the room except Ashley and Lincoln. He motioned her to a chair and he sat in the one next to it.

  “Mr. President, I’m worried about the morale of my crew. It actually goes deeper than just a morale problem. Our chaplain, Father Sampson, has been dining with the enlisted personnel, trying to gauge how they are standing up under the strange times we find ourselves in. They’ve all left behind, in another time, families and friends. From day to day, actually from moment to moment, they’re without a sense of a certain future. They’re emotionally upset, frightened, and sad. We come from the year 2013. Our country has enemies, God knows, but the Civil War is a faint memory, something we read about in history books.”

  “I have been wondering about this very thing, Captain, and I’m glad that you raise the matter. Do you have something to request of me? Is there something I can do?”

  “Yes, sir, there is. We have some strong evidence that the California may be able to return to 2013 by finding the exact location where we slipped through the time portal. What I’m asking you Mr. President is this: After the Battle of Bull Run, I would like your permission to say farewell and to bring my crew home.”

  Lincoln stood and walked over to the window. He had just heard a request so reasonable he couldn’t see how he could deny it. But in his few months as President he had learned a great deal about military strategy and tactics. He learned that there is one thing predictable about war, that it is unpredictable.

  He returned to his chair next to Ashley. “Captain I appreciate the problem your crew finds themselves in. The morale and enthusiasm of your crew is crucial to the success of our plans. I understand that they need some certainty in their lives. We fully expect that your participation in the blockade, the Gray Ships deception, and the Battle of Bull Run will turn the tide and force the South to capitulate. But war is full of surprises. So I can promise you this. If our plans are successful, you will have my full permission to return home, and I shall move heaven and earth to help you to accomplish it. But as President and Commander in Chief, I must say to you that your taking leave must depend on a successful outcome. Do you find that acceptable, Captain?”

  Ashley knew it was all she could hope for.

  “Thank you, Mr. President. We will make it a success.”

  Chapter 37

  Lieutenant Commander Nick Wartella, the ship’s Chief Engineering Officer called Lt. Jeff DeLouker and LTJG Nancy Forsyth to his office for a meeting. Wartella had been briefed by Captain Patterson and Commander Campbell on Operation Gray Ships.

  Wartella, an Annapolis graduate, had recently been promoted to Lt. Commander. His job as Engineering Officer on the California was his first department head post. His subordinates know him as a bright officer with little patience for imperfection. Captain Patterson thought that Wartella was the perfect officer to head up the California’s part of Operation Gray Ships.

  Wartella explained Operation Gray Ships, and their role in it, to DeLouker and Forsyth.

  “Navy Secretary Wells, according to Captain Patterson, characterized our job as a one act play with multiple costume changes. The California is the actor, and you two are in charge of changing costumes, as often as once a day.”

  Lt. Jeff DeLouker was a mustang, an officer who rose through the ranks as an enlisted man, and his salty language reflected it. He was in charge of the “A” Division of the Engineering Department. The “A” Division is charged with fixing what’s broken, and even manufacturing new equipment with available materials. Because a ship can’t pull into a service station at sea, the ability to make at-sea repairs is crucial. Everyone who ever worked with DeLouker knew him as a masterful organizer and leader. If he were a civilian he’d have been a wealthy contractor or real estate developer. But he loved the Navy and he loved making ships work.

  LTJG Nancy Forsyth graduated from MIT with a degree in industrial design. Before joining the Navy, Forsythe worked for General Motors, designing sets and equipment for automobile shows. She had a reputation for designing spaces that were as imaginative as an opera set. As a consultant, she helped design the opening ceremony of the Winter Olympics at Salt Lake City, Utah. Her designs for that job were praised in Architectural Digest.

  Forsyth and DeLouker were good friends. Before their assignments to the Cal
ifornia they had worked together on a large remodeling project at the Naval War College in Newport, Rhode Island. DeLouker admired her design skills, and Forsyth was impressed with DeLouker’s ability to manage complex projects. When Nancy Forsythe married her long-time girl friend, Jane Blake, Jeff and his wife Dianne attended the wedding. DeLouker had a non-stop sense of humor, earning him the nickname Taz, short for Tasmanian Devil. While at the War College project he would often introduce Forsyth as his wife, which usually resulted in a punch to his arm.

  “So, Nance, we get to play in a costume drama together,” said DeLouker as they sat down for their project planning meeting. Wartella had made DeLouker the project manager.

  “This won’t be easy, Taz,” said Forsyth. “We’ve been assigned the job of making the California look like 20 different ships, and to make the changes once a day. I think we should be guided by three major principles. The stuff should be easy to put up, easy to take down, and easy to maintain.”

  “My troops will be happy to hear that, Nance.”

  “Okay, let’s break the project down into parts,” DeLouker said. “I’ll start to list them and you just jump in with your ideas.”

  “First we need to look at the ship’s name. We can’t paint a new name on the stern every night, so we need to design large boards that can be bolted to the stern. The only problem is, boards are straight and the stern is curved.”

  “No problem, Jeff. I’ll design a couple of triangular supports that can be easily bolted and unbolted.”

  “Perfect, Nance. We’re going to need lumber from ashore. As soon as your designs are done I’ll contact the Navy Department with a parts list. I figure in 1861 the Navy uses a lot of wood. I want the signs to be pulled up and lowered with four sailors, two on each end for stability in the wind and two to lower the sign itself. We’ll need four steel grommets in the sign. We’ll leave the shackles secured to the sign with the lines tied off on the ship to help with stability in rough weather. As I’m thinking about this, I’m sure we can do a name change in less than five minutes. What do you think, Nance?”