Chapter 22
by Dan Kirk
“I don’t know quite what to say, Brian.” Uncle Rich’s voice was weak, and he looked like death warmed over in his hospital bed. An I.V. line pumped liquids into him, but it was only a matter of time, hours, maybe a day or two if he was really lucky. He knew it as well as I did, sitting in this ward of the hospital in San Francisco. Outside it was Christmas, and people were celebrating the holiday with their families. I was too, in my own way, but it was a far different celebration.
“I’m sorry, Uncle Rich.” I said softly, still holding his hand. His grip was weak, but he squeezed my hand as tightly as he could.
“Don’t be, boy.” He said before a coughing fit took him. He punched the button on the morphine drip, and sighed as more of the drug flowed into his system. I knew he’d be asleep before long, and it would be wrong to keep Mom out of the room for much longer. Her, and her sister, and my father were all here, but I’d begged a few hours alone with him, and gotten them.
“If we’d come back earlier, I might have warned you in time.” I said softly. “But we couldn’t quite arrange it perfectly.”
“It’s almost too hard to believe, but you sound like you’re serious, so I’m going to believe you.” Rich said weakly, his voice relaxing as the drug eased his pain. “It certainly explains your sudden stroke of genius and them wanting to skip you ahead a few grades.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” I said with a small smile. “Thank you, Uncle Rich. The last few months have been wonderful seeing you so much, you know.”
“You’ve been a good nephew, and I like your friend, a lot.” Rich said with a chuckle. “Brenda doesn’t quite see it, but I was damn sure you two were a couple before you told me all this time travel stuff. Fated lovers. Got to love that. You be good to each other, you hear me? Stay faithful to each other too, with this damn disease. I wish you could do something about that.”
“We’re trying.” I assured him. “We have to be subtle, but we’re pretty sure we found a way to get the right information to the right people without raising too many questions.”
“That’s good.” He said before closing his eyes. His breathing was still shallow, but it was pain-free, and he was obviously asleep. I stood up, kissed his forehead and walked out of the room.
“He’s asleep.” I said to Mom, who was standing outside with Aunt Linda and Dad.
“Did you two say goodbye?” Mom asked and I nodded, letting the tears slide down my face. We really had said goodbye, and I’d had to ask forgiveness for not coming back further in time to save him. At least he’d given me that forgiveness.
“Why don’t we go for a walk, son?” Dad said in a gentle voice as the two women went back into the room. I nodded, and we walked out of the hospital into the cool San Francisco morning. It would have been nice if Davey could have been here, but his parents had firmly put their foot down against his visiting over Christmas. There had been a big enough fight when they’d found out that Uncle Rich was sick, and with what. That had nearly shattered the budding friendship between our parents, but we were working on it.
“How are you feeling, son?” Dad asked after we’d gone a few blocks.
“Better.” I told him.
“So much is changing.” Dad said sadly. “Your mother is going to be grieving for a while. You do understand that it isn’t likely…”
“He’ll be gone in hours, or maybe a few days at most.” I said sadly. “I’ll miss him.”
“I will too.” Dad said. “He’s a good man. It’s a shame he’s dying.”
“It is.” I agreed.
“How are you feeling about starting your new school?” Dad asked, changing the subject. “Are you sure you want this? You’ll be far away from home. I don’t know how your mother will deal with you being gone to a boarding school.”
“I’ll be coming back every couple of months, and all summer.” I reminded him with a smile. He just shook his head. “I know, it’s not the same, but really, I can get a better education there, and I think that’s what I should do. It’s not like I’m going to be alone, either. That’s why we all decided to stop pretending on our school work, because we realized we weren’t alone, and we had friends.”
“You do have an amazing group of friends.” Dad agreed. “Still, your mother and I are going to miss having you around.”
“Do you think this… argument over Uncle Rich is going to scuttle the plans you’ve been making with Mr. Jones?” I asked him and Dad looked surprised.
“No, oddly enough, I don’t think so.” Dad said. “We even talked about that before we drove up here. You were already in bed, but he called wanting to make sure that I wasn’t so pissed off I was going to pull out. It’s a good idea, a good business plan, and we’ve already gotten the loans approved to get started. He may be a little stuffy about social stuff, but he’s a good talker and will make a good face for the business while I handle all the financial issues.”
“Plus Mrs. Jones is a pretty good organizer, isn’t she?” I asked, pleased at how Davey and I had pulled off the project of getting our parents into business together. The combination of all four of them working together would help a lot of things, especially with his sister. His father was going to be too busy, and too happy to fall into the emotional state that had led to him molesting his daughter.
“She is, she is.” Dad agreed. “The more I get to know them, the more amazed I am by them as a family. Sandy’s father is a blast.”
“Dad, stop trying to use cool words.” I told my father and he laughed.
By the time we had returned to the hospital, Mom and Aunt Linda were ready for dinner. After a good meal, everyone returned to Uncle Rich’s room, and it was time. I could feel it in the room, and part of me fell apart as his two sisters each held one of Uncle Rich’s hands. He’d been awake, but not really coherent when we came back from dinner. He’d quieted down and smiled though when they held his hands, and so they stood like that for several hours, none of us moving at all until his eyes closed for the last time, and his lungs exhaled for the very last time.
While Dad held Mom, I held Aunt Linda who was crying just as hard as my mother. We cleared the room while nurses and a doctor filed in to do all the official things they have to do, and we tried to comfort the two women. My own eyes were filled with tears, and I had to struggle to remember the forgiveness I’d been given for not stopping this.
It really was a sad Christmas, but at least there was some more healing to be done after we returned home to Modesto. We’d pulled in and I was still unloading the car when a familiar brown Buick pulled up in front of our house. Mr. Jones was dressed in one of his best suits, and Mrs. Jones was wearing what looked like a new dress as they got out of the car. Even Davey was wearing a suit, and Jenny had on a very pretty dress as well as they walked up the driveway towards me.
“Davey told us of your loss, Brian.” David Jones, Sr. said in a quiet, deep voice. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m well, sir.” I said quietly, returning his politeness with politeness of my own. “It went as well as one could hope. Uncle Rich was surrounded by his family up until the very end.”
“As it should be.” He said with a slight bow of his head. “Do you think your parents would be up for visitors?”
“I think they’ll be happy to see you.” I offered and he smiled slightly as Davey took the suitcase I was holding and I led his family up to my house. Mom and Dad were talking quietly in the dining room when we walked in, and at first they looked wary, but that quickly changed to grateful appreciation for their visitors.
“You have no idea how much preaching I had to do.” Davey whispered to me as we stood out on the back porch while the adults were still inside, talking over coffee (and tea for Sandy). Jenny was in the living room watching television. “I took his own damn bible and started pulling out every bible verse I could find about love and forgiveness. Considering we were at Nanny’s, and all the family was there, it turned into a free-for-all bible study session. When Papa came in on my side, I knew I’d won.
“I knew you could do it.” I congratulated him softly and he blushed slightly. Making sure our parents stayed on good terms was important to both of us for a variety of reasons. My last time around, I’d taken the approach that I had plenty of years to make changes, but Sean had disabused me of that notion with our failure to stop the mad scientist and the power-hungry communist. Instead of just enjoying our collective new teenage years, we were going to take steps.
Besides, as Trevor remarked, it got kind of old after a month.
Even I’d forgotten the big differences between being twelve and being seventeen. We all had bed times that were far too early, our parents watched us a lot, a lot more than we were used to having to deal with, and of course none of us could legally drive. What had been a short car drive over to someone’s house turned into twenty or thirty minutes of bike riding, jogging, or begging for a ride from a parent. Sure, the school we were going to had a lot more restrictions in some ways, but in other ways it also had a lot more freedoms for us, and it would accelerate us on the path of making some changes.
It was shortly after the New Year, 1982, when we all flew up to our new school with our parents. The school was a very private, very exclusive Military Preparatory Academy in the backwoods of upstate New York. I know most kids get threatened with being sent off to a military school if they are bad, but in this case there couldn’t have been a better fit for all of us.
I had heard of the school in my original timeline because I’d worked with one person who had gone there. The man was a career diplomat in the State Department and one of the best at what he did. He had given full credit to the General John Cleveland Robinson Academy for giving him many of the skills he used in his work.
As a private school, it accepted only students that it had invited to attend, and I was surprised when we received invitations in late November. Almost never did any school of this type offer mid-term admissions, and for all six of us to receive invitations was an opportunity I hoped we, as a group, would not pass up. After looking at their academic offerings, most of us were onboard with going there (especially since there were scholarships involved so that all of us could afford to attend), but the deciding factor for Trevor was the fact that they did have a football team.
The school was your typical private boarding school, located on fairly large grounds that were well maintained, circled by a wall, and had uniformed guards at the front gate. There were four main large, multi-story buildings, and several smaller buildings as well as what looked like a fairly impressive sports complex all visible through the trees as we drove up the main drive. At the main building, an older man dressed in the uniform of an Army Colonel met us, and pleasantly greeted our parents before greeting the six of us who would be attending the school.
“I am Colonel Barry Reynolds, the Deputy Superintendent of the Academy, and Professor of Military History.” He said by way of his own introduction. For the next hour, he personally led us on a tour of the facility, mostly directed at our parents. Then after introducing another man who was also an instructor there, we were separated from our parents and the real introductions began.
“Each of you should be honored that we are accepting you as students here.” He told us in a stern voice. “You will be the youngest students in our school at this time, and you will have a lot of catching up to do from the beginning. That is why you are here a week before the term begins. We will cut you no slack once the term begins. For the next week you will be drilled in all the things you would have learned since last August regarding how this school operates. Four upper classmen have graciously volunteered to cut their leave period short in order to help prepare you for the new term. You will show them your appreciation by following all their directions to the utmost of your abilities.”
He went on like that for several minutes, with all the typical things one might expect about the history and honor of the school. Then he introduced us to the upper classmen, who seemed a little taken aback that three of us were as tall as they were, even though we were five years younger. After a short period of their attempting to establish their dominance with typical bluster, our parents were returned for a lunch served in the dining hall of the school. That was where we were introduced to General Robert Lingstrom, the Superintendent of the school. He was a retired three-star Army General, who listed as part of his resume having worked for ten years at the National Security Agency.
That was what had made us go from merely liking the idea of this school to doing my best to make sure everyone signed on with going here.
After lunch, our parents gave us all a teary-eyed farewell; at least they were teary eyed while we all sighed with relief to see the rental cars leave. Then the upper classmen descended on us and gave us their version of a military boot camp. I wasn’t sure which disturbed them more, the ease with which all of us handled the push-ups and sit-ups they kept on requiring, the fact that all of us had already perfectly memorized the “General Orders” that all cadets were expected to know, or the fact that later that night none of us were homesick or crying, wanting to go back home.
Todd and Sean were the two of us least accepting of the military mindset. I had been in the military myself, albeit as a reserve JAG officer, and Davey took to it like a fish to water. Trevor and Brandon accepted it with mild enjoyment, and although they didn’t really like all of it, Sean and Todd both tolerated it overall. The only thing they really complained about was the haircuts. They did not like having their hair shorn off, but even that they tolerated although I heard quite a few grumbles from them.
The only real mistake the school had made was in the room assignments. All cadets lived in a two-person room. Each cadet had his own bunk, locker, wardrobe, and desk. Normally the school assigned cadets to the room, but during the first semester several cadets had ‘dropped out’ of the school, and the cadets left without a roommate had been moved, so there were more than three rooms available. No one had made room assignments for us, and that first day we were led to three available rooms, ordered to select our rooms and stow away our gear.
That was a BIG mistake, but one we were extremely happy about because we were three couples and had been worried about how to get the right people to be rooming together. Since they had warned us that whoever we roomed with would be our roommates all through the rest of school, unless one of us dropped out, we were all extremely happy to make sure we roomed with our partner.
At least now we would not have to be sneaking between rooms every night.
“I don’t know if I can do this, Brian.” Davey moaned halfway through the first week. We were re-folding all of our clothes, mostly uniforms the school had provided. Like the real military, they expected everything folded in a very precise manner, just like our ‘bunks’ had to be made with tight corners precisely at a forty-five degree angle.
“Do what?” I asked him.
“Make my bed every damn morning, and fold my clothes like this.” Davey sighed.
“What about all the other stuff?” I asked him and he laughed.
“That shit is easy.” Davey said while laughing. “This is the hard shit.”
For a week, the upper classmen tried to run us through what they thought would be hell. They got us up at three in the morning, and kept us going until late at night. There was a lot of physical exercise, but also a lot of mental drills as well. Marching was a big part of every day since it was a big part of the school’s daily routine, and we were drilled constantly on things like every little fact about the school’s namesake, Civil War Union General John Cleveland Robinson. Sunday was a little different for four of us since we were not used to dealing with ‘chapel’ or church services, but it was a requirement that all cadets attend. Davey and Sean snickered at the rest of us over that little aspect.
Soon enough the term started, and the real schoolwork began. It took a few weeks for our fellow first-year cadets to warm up to us. At first they were standoffish with us new guys, but the first inter-house game competition in February broke the ice. We beat the sophomore team at nearly every event, and a large part of that was thanks to the athleticism of Trevor, Brandon, Davey and myself.
The actual schoolwork was a mixture of easy and difficult subjects. We had no problems in the regular History, English, Math, or various Foreign Language subjects, but the Military History and other military-centered classes proved challenging. By the time Spring Break rolled around, everyone had expressed that they were generally happier at the school than they had been back home in Modesto.
Still, it was good for all of us to go home over Spring Break and spend time with our families. For a week, we barely saw each other as we spent time with our individual families, but near the end of the week, it was our families who brought all of us together for a barbecue at a local park. There were about fifty of us altogether, as various grandparents, including my own grandparents who were still alive in this time line, all gathered along with our immediate families.
When we returned from a very relaxing, and fun, Spring Break, each of us was called into the Superintendent’s office for one-on-one meetings. Overall, the General was pleased with how we were fitting into the school, but apparently some of the instructors were concerned that portions of our school work were ‘too easy’ for us. He did not like the idea that we were not being ‘challenged’ to develop to our full potential, and wanted to have us be given in-depth assessments by his faculty.
That suited all of us just fine, because while some of our courses were challenging, we all knew that most of it was far too easy, and none of us liked the idea of not learning as much as we could. I think part of that was because of the last few years of the last timeline, where we’d raced against the clock to end a situation that threatened the stability of the world in which we lived. We all felt some personal level of responsibility to keep something like that from happening again, and mentally at least, we were all adults. Sure, we still had fun like any other teenagers, and a great deal of sex in the privacy of our own rooms, but we had a purpose, a mission, and we wanted to succeed in that mission.
Summer was a fun time for all of us. We were thirteen, and had finished what was effectively our ‘freshman’ year of high school two years early. During that summer we spent a lot of time camping, hiking, fishing (including several trips with Davey’s grandfather), and all the typical summer activities of teenagers. Occasionally we’d have arguments, and fight, but we’d get over it when our tempers calmed down and usually end up laughing over what we fought about.
The ‘business’ being started by my family and Davey’s was actually doing quite well. Parts of the idea had come from Davey’s father’s business in the last timeline. David Jones Sr. was proving to be quite a good salesman as he took the idea to companies like Microsoft, which was just starting to rise as a major player, and established giants like IBM. According to their business model it would still be another year before things actually got off the ground, but already they were doing quite well even though they had not yet delivered any finished product.
We all ended up going back to the Academy several weeks early for the start of the football training program. The Academy took football quite seriously, and there was quite a bit of grumbling when Trevor ended up on Varsity as second-string quarterback even though he was so young. Davey and I were good, but not quite good enough for the main squad, so we were on the J.V. team along with Brandon. Sean and Todd didn’t arrive until just before school started along with everyone else since they had no interest in playing on the team.
Sean’s relationship with his parents was actually better off now than it had been in any other timeline. The distance from them and their not looking over his shoulder all the time was helpful and he actually expressed a grudging change in his desire to see his father meet a grisly fate. Sometimes, distance does make the heart grow fonder.
Our term as “Second-Class Cadets” went a lot smoother than our first half-year. We were now accepted by our year-mates as part of their class, and although we only took about half our classes with them, we were no longer strangers. The academic work was much more challenging, largely because our ‘core’ classes were taught in special classes with just the six of us, or sometimes some smaller mix (we all had varying levels of skills in mathematics, so Davey and I ended up in classes with Fourth-Year cadets while the rest were in their own special classes). Trevor enjoyed the football season, even if he only got to play in three games, and only for a total of three quarters.
Not everything was perfect. Halfway through the year, Sean ended up before a disciplinary review board for fighting with a Third-Year cadet. The cadet in question was a bully, and had been physically harassing the smaller Sean when Sean unleashed his full fury on the older student. The bully hadn’t stood a chance and ended up in the infirmary with a broken nose while Sean suffered a few bruises. The end result of the disciplinary hearing was that both of them were punished for fighting, but the upper classman received the harsher punishment and a warning that further incidents would result in his removal from school.
A much more serious situation arose in the middle of the baseball season. Todd played with us on the team, as did Davey, Brandon, and Trevor. After practice one day, Todd and Trevor disappeared into a little-used shed near the baseball fields and were in the middle of oral sex when a Fourth-Year cadet walked in, finding them. He threatened them with revealing what he’d seen to the faculty if they didn’t ‘service’ him on demand, but was interrupted by the sounds of Davey and I calling out for our friends. Hastily he told them to meet him back there the next day or he’d tell.
Naturally Todd and Trevor told us what had happened, and we concocted a plan to deal with the upper classman. I ended up talking with an upper classman on the team after practice, one who we all suspected was gay from the way he took slightly longer looks at everyone in the shower, and we just happened to be walking by the shed as Trevor and Todd were pretty much pushed into the shed by Jason Howell, the cadet who was trying to blackmail them.
“Oh no.” Bill Lindstrom, the Fourth-Year I was talking with growled.
“What?” I asked.
“Wasn’t that two of your friends with Howell?” He asked me.
“Yeah.” I agreed, trying to hide my smile.
“I can guarantee he’s up to no good.” Lindstrom stated and walked purposefully over to the shed, where we could hear an argument going on inside.
“No, we won’t do it!” Trevor’s elevated voice was clearly audible. “I don’t care what you say to people, it’s your word against ours.”
“You’ll damn well suck me off, you stupid cocksuckers!” Howell growled at them and Lindstrom got an angry look on his face as he threw the door open and stormed inside. Howell was standing there, his practice pants unbuttoned and half-hard cock flopped out while he stood facing Trevor and Todd. He turned around with a sneer on his face but blanched when he saw Lindstrom. “It’s not what it looks like! I caught these two…”
“Stow it, Howell.” Lindstrom growled. “I covered for your ass when I caught you and that First-Year two years ago. Put that fucking thing back in your pants and I better never, ever hear of you harassing anyone again.”
Howell stormed out, and I was amazed at our good fortune until Lindstrom turned back to my two friends who were smiling and he managed to give all three of us a glare.
“Thank you.” Todd said quickly but was cut off by Lindstrom shaking his head.
“Look, let me explain something to the lot of you, and you better sure as hell share it with your friends.” Lindstrom growled. “I know you six think you’re the hottest shit on this campus, but we’re not blind. It’s obvious as hell what you guys do with each other, but as long as you fucking keep it hidden, no one’s going to say anything. Guys like Howell, they’re just looking for a chance to fuck you guys over. You need to be more fucking careful where you do your shit, get it?”
“Uh, yeah.” Trevor said with a slightly scared look on his face. “Um, thanks.”
“Don’t fucking thank me.” Lindstrom growled. “Someone should have told you guys already. Just fucking tone it down and keep your shit private.”
With that he turned and walked out. Later that night, we all had several long discussions and decided to try and tone things down a bit. We had been getting carried away, doing things in places where we could, and in this case, had been caught. After that, we kept it to our rooms, long after lights out for the most part, or managed to use each other as lookouts while the others had some fun.
Christmas break of 1982 was fun, and 1983 rolled around without any big surprises for anyone. Davey was growing increasingly worried as the time frame got closer for when his father had started molesting his sister, but he’d done just about everything possible to forestall that from ever happening. He and his sister were a lot closer than they’d ever been before, and they actually corresponded by letter a lot during the school year.
By the time summer rolled around, we were all ready for an extended break from the Academy, but Davey and I were a little unprepared for the changes the summer brought. First off, his family was moving in to a home just three doors down from my parents. Then, both of our fathers were gone most of the summer as their business began to take off, and they landed several major contracts with rental firms across the nation. They did take two weeks off towards the tale end of summer, and we were surprised by the trip to Europe.
That was when we learned just how well the business was doing. Our families were on the verge of becoming millionaires, and were considering ‘going public’. This time around, there wasn’t likely going to be a need for us to win the lottery. Our families were going to handle that for us just fine.
Our third year at the Academy went exceedingly well. In fact, it went way beyond our expectations. Academically, we were very challenged, and for the first time since coming back to this timeline, we all felt like we were being pushed to the full extent of our abilities. Our days were busy, and our nights were spent doing more studying than anything else.
During the Spring semester of 1984, there was an elective course that we were allowed to take. The instructor was a retired analyst from the Soviet desk of the CIA. His course was “A History of the USSR and the Future of Communism.” One of the last assignments he gave us towards the end of the course was to write an essay, using full citation of at least eight sources, on what the future held for the Soviet Union.
All six of us managed to independently write six essays on the fall of the Soviet Union. None of us collaborated, and although we used some of the same sources for citation, when we reviewed each other’s finished papers, they were different enough that it was obvious we’d each made our own efforts. While all of our conclusions were the same, each of us had reached them in slightly different ways that showed our different way of thinking. Two weeks before the end of the semester, and two weeks after we’d turned in the essays, we were all called into the Superintendent’s office.
“Mr. Alstrom was very impressed with the papers each of you wrote.” The retired General said when we were all standing before him. “At first he suspected you’d helped each other with the papers, but after reviewing them he realized you had probably all discussed this topic with each other without having collaborated on what was to be an individual project. Is that correct?”
“Yes, sir!” We all answered in unison.
“That’s good, I’d hate to think of any of my cadets cheating.” He growled with a warning look at all of us. “Now, Mr. Alstrom was so impressed with your work, that he’s called a few of his friends. I know each of you are much younger than our normal Third-Year cadets, but that shouldn’t hamper your opportunities. When you graduate here after your fourth-year, you will be more than ready for whatever University you choose to attend. Mr. Alstrom has been good enough to cut through the red tape and get an offer extended for each of you to intern with his former employer over the summer. It won’t take up your entire summer, but will be for all but a few weeks. None of you are obligated to accept, but I would consider it a personal favor if as many of you as possible will accept. Young men your age rarely have an opportunity such as this. I won’t lie. Most of what you will be doing will be grunt work, delivering files, making coffee and the like, but you will still learn many things, even if none of you choose it as a career.”
“I’ll accept, sir.” Davey said without hesitating. “My parents may not like it all that much, but Dad’s going to be pretty busy except for a few weeks towards the end of summer where he wants to go for another trip. As long as we don’t have to change that, things should work out.”
“I’ll contact your parents to make the arrangements.” The General said with a nod and then he looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “Cadet Breckenridge, does this mean you will be going?”
“Yes, sir, it does.” I said, and knew from the small smile and nod on his face that he damn well knew Davey and I were a couple, but said nothing. Maybe he thought it was ‘just a phase’, or didn’t even think about it at all, but he did know where one of us went, the other was not far behind.
“Count us in too, sir.” Trevor said after sharing a few looks with Todd, whose eyes were bright at the idea of actually getting into the CIA building.
“Good choice, gentlemen.” The General said with another short nod.
“We might as well go too.” Sean said with a slight sigh.
“Excellent.” The General said with a wider grin. “I’ll let Mr. Alstrom know all six of you have accepted. You can expect to receive further details over the next week. Dismissed.”
The ‘further details’ amounted to a lot of documents about secrecy that we had to sign, and since we were minors, had to be signed by our parents. Most of what we did that summer really was grunt work. We delivered files, we made coffee, and similar things, but we also talked to several people whose job it was to analyze every bit of data collected about the Soviet Union. Most of them thought we were foolishly naïve children, but we laid some important seeds over the summer.
That summer, Davey and I went with our families to West Germany, France, and Italy. It was odd, having traveled to a lot of these countries in other timelines, mostly after the fall of the Soviet Union and the rise of the European Union. The checkpoints at different borders that no longer existed after the mid-1990’s were a unique experience, especially after having spent most of the summer at the CIA.
Our last year at the Academy was the toughest yet, with our instructors having spent most of the last few years learning our strengths and weaknesses. The school wasn’t really a big one, so they got to know all of their students fairly well, and they used that information mercilessly to challenge us in a variety of ways. In sports, Trevor was the starting quarterback, and even managed to attract the attention of a few college scouts, our faculty members had tipped off the scouts to this amazingly talented fifteen-year old who would be eligible for college next year. Nearly every week, we got at least two or three brochures for several top-notch universities and we began to discuss among ourselves what we would do for the future.
That was why in late November of that year, after spending Thanksgiving at home with our families, we all met over at Trevor’s house the day before we were to fly back to school. His parents were both out, visiting some friends, and so we met in their dining room. We had all brought the tons of brochures and letters we’d received from various universities, colleges, and from various other institutions offering scholarships.
“First off, I think we need to make a final decision on what to do about our dear friend, the mad scientist.” Sean said with a sarcastic drawl after we were all settled in at the table.
“We can plant evidence that points to him working with the Soviets.” I offered. In the last timeline they had been hesitant to kill people, and even though they’d been on board for removal after coming back, offering this way out might be a better option for them. “He can’t invent time travel if he’s in jail for the rest of his life.”
“Not good enough.” Sean disagreed with a shake of his head. “He can still do the mathematics, and we all know that with enough money anything is possible. Guys, I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately. None of you know the man the way I do. He’s obsessed with this, and nothing short of death will stop him. The only way I can see that we guarantee he and Shevardnadze do not meet up would be to make sure he is dead.”
“Or Shevardnadze.” Davey added grimly as he nodded his head in agreement. “Of course, we won’t be able to get near Shevardnadze.”
“No, which is why the man who first invented time travel is the one who has to die.” Sean said, taking back the discussion. “I think I know just how to do it too. A story in the news last year gave me a good idea. One of the things that bugged me about the guy is that he smokes like a chimney. There were a few times I had to go over to his house first thing in the morning. He’s had the same house since the 1960’s, this little two-bedroom thing built during the depression. The place stank like you wouldn’t believe, and the first thing he did when he got up every morning was to light up a cigarette even before he was out of bed.”
“So?” Trevor asked with a confused look. “We know he doesn’t die of cancer.”
“No, but he does have a gas stove.” Sean said grimly.
“If we got in there, turned off the pilot light at night, made sure all the windows were closed, and left a burner on, he’d blow up when he had his morning smoke.”
Davey said with a little grin on his face. “That’s a lot of if’s, there Sean.”
“He has bad allergies some times.” Sean said with a shrug. “Part of the reason why the place stank so bad was that he never opens the windows to air it out. It’ll work. I know it.”
“If it doesn’t, we can work on a fallback plan.” I offered. Everyone looked uncomfortable, but no one objected. “Now, which of us will do it, and when? We should make sure whoever goes has a good alibi just in case.”
“What about his neighbors?” Todd asked with a frown. “Won’t we be risking hurting them too if his house just blows up?”
“His nearest neighbor is several hundred yards away.” Sean said with a shrug. “They’ll be fine. And I’ll do it. I know the house. I’ve been in there in the other timeline.”
“Won’t he hear you breaking in?” Trevor asked.
“I’ve been thinking about this.” Sean said with a grin. “In the nineties, he always kept a spare key under the back door. I bet it’s there in this timeline too. He likes to make his assistants go get things that he might have left at home so he just leaves a spare key where they can find it easily. I’ll wait until he goes to bed, maybe an hour after that, and then I’ll go in, blow out the pilot light and leave the burner on. He’s always making tea in a kettle, so I’ll put the kettle over the burner, make it look like he’d left it on and didn’t realize it or something. That should be enough to throw any possible suspicion off it being foul play.”
“What if you’re seen?” Brandon asked. “I don’t want you going to jail.”
“I can do it without being seen.” Sean said confidently. “Besides, you guys will be my alibi, right?”
“Yeah.” Davey said thoughtfully. “How about we do this over Spring Break? We’ve got that camping trip planned. All of us are planning to go to the DMV together and get our licenses right? And then we’ve already told our families we’re going camping for three days. That’ll give Sean one day to watch the place, and then another to actually do it.”
“I’m going with him.” Brandon said fiercely and no one objected.
“We’ll be able to give you both good alibis, especially if we go up on a back trail for most of the day.” Trevor added. “Okay, sounds like that’s settled. What’s next?”
“College.” I said and everyone looked around nervously for a moment.
“Look, I have to wonder if we’ve all been thinking along similar lines.” Trevor said after the silence had almost become uncomfortable. “Don’t get me wrong, I love all you guys. The thing is, we’ve been together, living together, working together, in each other’s pockets for damn near ten years now over two timelines. I’d like to be out on my own for a while, at least the four years it’ll take to finish up an undergraduate degree.”
“What about me?” Todd asked with a mock pout and Trevor smiled while Brandon and Sean chuckled.
“You know I don’t mean you in that.” Trevor said softly. “I’d just like it to be you and me for a bit, you know. Focus on us more, instead of the group.”
“I’d like that too.” Todd agreed.
“So would I.” Davey added as he looked at me. “No offense guys.”
“It sounds like we’ve been thinking along the same lines.” Brandon chuckled. “So, what school have you picked, Trevor?”
“USC.” Trevor said. “They offered me a football scholarship, and they’ve got that film program Todd’s been interested in since the last timeline. Brian, you always said you could work that into your plans.”
“I can.” I agreed.
“Good.” Todd said with a determined look. “What about you guys, Brandon and Sean?”
“MIT, full-ride scholarships for both of us.” Sean said proudly as he held up two letters that he and Brandon had brought. “I’ve got engineering. It’ll be a nice change from Physics now that I don’t have to babysit that bastard again.”
“Computer science for me.” Brandon added with a slight shrug. “This time I can get a proper education in the subject.”
“Sorry about that.” I said quietly and he chuckled.
“Wasn’t your fault, Bri.” Brandon stated. “They just didn’t have a halfway decent program.”
“What about you two?” Sean asked with a slightly worried look. “You said you went to Stanford in your first timeline. You going to go there again?”
“No.” Davey said with a shake of his head. “He went there so that I could pitch on the baseball team.”
“Now there’s a joke.” Trevor chuckled as everyone else laughed. “Davey Jones pitching!”
“Shut up.” Davey said defensively. Sure, he could throw a ball halfway decently after years and years of practice with us, but he was nowhere near being pitcher-quality in an amateur league, much less college ball.
“We’re going to Whitman College.” I said to cut off the teasing Davey was getting. Everyone looked confused.
“I’ve never heard of it.” Brandon stated.
“It’s a CIA school.” Davey said. “Well, it’s a school with a program specific for the CIA.”
“I thought you were staying away from the CIA after our little internship?” Brandon said to me with a confused look.
“He’s doing it because I want to do it.” Davey said. “I like it. I want to do it.”
“Which is why we’re going there.” I stated firmly.
“But what about the long-range plans?” Trevor asked with a confused expression. “We abandoning them?”
“No.” Davey said with a sigh. “I’ll have a couple years in by the mid-nineties, and Brian and I can go back to school, get our Masters degrees and then go over to State. It’s not like the mafia, really.”
“If you think you can pull that off.” Brandon said with a shake of his head. “Well, I guess that was pretty easy to do.”
“Yeah, but don’t worry, we won’t lose touch with each other.” I assured them. “We’ve been through too much for that.”
“No fucking shit.” Davey snorted, and we all laughed together before Trevor’s parents got home.
