The Never War (18 page)

“Is it as bad as all that?” Gunny asked.

Patrick's only answer was an ironic chuckle. He then turned and walked up the stairs back to the library.

Gunny and I stood there, stunned. I wanted to run home now more than ever. I felt sure that whatever was waiting for us in that library, it would be gruesome. I was truly at a crossroads. I knew how important this was, but I had to convince myself not to run for my life.

“You want to know why we're the ones responsible?” Gunny asked.

I looked up into a pair of wise eyes that had seen far more than mine.

“Because there's nobody else,” he said. With that, he slowly walked up the stairs after Patrick.

I stood alone, trying to keep from crying. What Gunny had said was simple, and it was the truth.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and ran up the stairs after them.

“Y
ou've got to get back to make sure the
Hindenburg
is destroyed,” Patrick said. Though his voice was quivering with fear, he couldn't have been any more clear. “If you don't, everything is going to change.”

“I'm guessing it won't be for the better,” Gunny said.

“Not even close,” Patrick answered.

“Do we want to see this?” I asked.

“No,” was Patrick's answer. “But you have to.”

We were back in the small library room. Patrick motioned for us to take seats. Gunny sat, but I was too nervous. When I get anxious like that, it's hard for me to sit still.

“Here's the deal,” Patrick began. “Remember I talked about mathematical equations and if you changed one number, the whole equation would be altered?”

“Yeah,” I answered tentatively.

“Well, it's true, but it also depends on what number you decide to change,” Patrick explained. “You might change one number and the overall difference would be small. Or you might change a number that has a much bigger impact.”

“What about the
Hindenburg
?” Gunny asked. “How big a change could that make?”

Patrick had to sit down. It was like the weight of what he was about to say was making it hard for him to stay on his feet.

“Saint Dane hit the jackpot,” he said. “He found a single event in history that if changed, would turn the future inside out. If he succeeds, he'll push all three territories into chaos.”

That was exactly what I didn't want to hear. “How can one change do so much?” I asked.

“That's what I've got to show you,” Patrick answered. He hit the white button on his chair and called out, “Computer.
Hindenburg
Variation. Item number one.”

Instantly the image of Max Rose appeared before us.

“It's all about this guy Maximilian Rose,” Patrick began. “He started doing business with the Nazis in 1935.”

“We know that,” I said. “He said he was shipping them tools and scrap metal.”

“That's not all he was shipping them,” Patrick said. “Computer. Item number two.”

Appearing before us was a group of men. None of them looked familiar. They were all white guys with short haircuts and wearing suits. They looked like a bunch of dorks.

“Who are they?” Gunny asked.

“Spies,” Patrick answered quickly.

“Spies?” I asked. “You mean like James Bond?”

“Industrial spies,” said Patrick. “The kind of guys who sell secrets about companies and manufacturing plans and designs. These are all Americans who worked for Max Rose. Some of them did it for the money, others were forced into it by Rose's thugs. Every one of them had valuable secrets the Nazis would have loved to get hold of.”

“And Max Rose was selling them these secrets?” Gunny asked.

“Yes. That is, until May sixth, 1937. Computer. Item three.”

The gang of spies disappeared and was replaced by an image of a wrecked car. Whatever had happened to this vehicle, it was ugly, because it was a step above scrap metal. I guarantee, nobody could walk away from a wreck like that.

“May sixth, six fifty
P.M
.,” Patrick explained. “Intersection of Toms River Road and Route five-twenty-seven…Max Rose is killed in a collision with a state trooper. But that alone wouldn't have stopped his spy business. He had lieutenants who would have picked up right where he left off. Except for one thing. Item four.”

The car wreck disappeared and we then saw the familiar image of the
Hindenburg
on fire.

“When the
Hindenburg
went down,” Patrick explained, “a huge payment from the Nazis to Max Rose went down with it. Records show there was a shipment on board with four million American dollars, bonds, jewels, and artwork. All gone in thirty-seven seconds.”

“Bad for Rose,” Gunny said.

“Worse than bad. Losing that money destroyed Rose's organization,” Patrick said. “Payments couldn't be made. Ties were severed. Some of the spies sank back into deep cover, never to be heard from again. Others got arrested. Bottom line is the crash of the
Hindenburg
put Rose's spies out of business.”

“Okay,” I said. “Now we know what happened. What did your computer figure out would happen if the
Hindenburg
didn't crash?”

Patrick hesitated, then stood up and paced.

“I input one single change,” he finally said. “I input the variable that the
Hindenburg
arrived safely.” Patrick took a
deep breath, then continued. “It took the computer twenty minutes to calculate all the changes. Pendragon, that's like saying a computer from Second Earth took a lifetime to calculate pi. That's how extensive the changes were. Every resource, every data bank, every bit of memory was called into play. It knocked everybody else in the library offline. I've never seen anything like it.”

“So? Show us,” I said.

Patrick sat back down in his chair. He hit the button and said weakly, “Item five.”

A man appeared. A lone man with salt-and-pepper-colored hair. He was short, with wire-rimmed glasses and a gray suit. He didn't look familiar at all.

“This is Dani Schmidt,” Patrick said nervously, “a physicist working for the Nazis. He never played a big part in history, because he was a failure. The project he devoted the final years of his life to was never finished. He was executed by the Nazis in 1944. His only crime was failure. But that was under the old scenario. If the
Hindenburg
had survived, his life would have taken a different turn. Item six.”

The image of Dani Schmidt disappeared, and was replaced by a large, gray piece of equipment that looked like a fat torpedo.

“When the
Hindenburg
arrived safely, the payment was made to keep Max Rose's spy operation in business. More information was stolen from the U.S. and fed to the Nazis. They in turn gave it to Dani Schmidt. It was scientific data they never would have gotten if the
Hindenburg
had crashed.”

“So what is that thing?” I asked, pointing to the gray torpedo.

“That was the project Dani Schmidt was working on,” Patrick said. “With the scientific information stolen from the
United States, he was able to put the final pieces of his project together.” Patrick then took a deep breath. “Item seven.”

The image of the torpedo was replaced by an image that looked very familiar. It was a bird's-eye view of Washington, D.C. I could see the Capitol, the Washington Monument, and the Lincoln Memorial.

“May twenty-fourth, 1944,” Patrick said with a shaky voice. “The Germans were on the run. The Allies would invade Europe in two weeks. The war would only last another year or so. But on that date, Dani Schmidt's project was brought into play.”

We then saw an image that made my knees buckle. There before us, looking as real as if we were watching it from an airplane, we saw Washington, D.C. hit by an atomic bomb. The city was vaporized. The familiar, horrific mushroom cloud rose up over the shattered capital like an evil tombstone.

“That was at ten o'clock in the morning,” Patrick said. “There was more to come. Item eight.”

The rubble of Washington, D.C. was replaced by a view of Manhattan Island.

Gunny breathed out, “Oh, no.”

Boom.
New York got slammed too.

“That bomb landed north of Manhattan at ten fifteen. Item nine.”

The mushroom cloud over New York was replaced by an aerial view of London.
Boom.
London was history.

“Ten twenty-five. The Nazis sent out long-range bombers with the world's first atomic bombs.”

“Shut it off!” I yelled.

“Clear,” Patrick said softly, and the destruction of London was gone.

“How can this machine know that?” I demanded. “It's just a guess.”

“It's not,” Patrick said. “This was always the Nazis' plan. But they never developed a working bomb, so it was never carried out. With the help of the information stolen from the United States by Max Rose's spy network, Dani Schmidt was able to complete his work. There's very little guesswork here. If the
Hindenburg
arrives safely, Germany will be the first to develop an atomic bomb. And they will use it.”

“What will happen from there?” Gunny said softly. He looked like he was in shock. “I don't want to see it, just tell me.”

“Most of the northeast United States will be devastated by the two blasts. They'll have to deal with radiation for years. Pendragon, your home of Stony Brook, Connecticut, will no longer exist. Earthquakes set off by the blast in New York will see to that.”

Now I had to sit down. I wasn't nervous anymore. I was sick.

“Bottom line is, the Germans will win the war,” Patrick said. “Adolf Hitler's evil vision will spread throughout the world, just as he planned. As you can imagine, from that point on, the world will take a much different course. Let me show you one last thing. Item fifty-six.”

On the platform we saw another overhead view. This was of New York City. The only reason I knew it was New York was because I saw a chunk of building that looked like the Empire State Building. But it wasn't a tall, majestic building anymore. It was only the top few floors. The building must have tumbled when the bomb fell and now only the top few floors were left. We saw several more views of the destroyed city. There were people waiting in line for food. Children slept in the streets, cold and hungry. Tents were set up where the roads had been. Thousands upon thousands of people lived in the rubble like rats.

“Was this right after the bomb fell?” I asked.

Patrick answered. “This is a view of New York City on Third Earth, over three thousand years later. Today.”

I then saw something that made me want to cry. Lying on its side, along what was once the busy street of Fifth Avenue, was a green structure that was being used for makeshift housing. It must have covered ten city blocks. Holes were cut in the sides for people to crawl in and out of. The image was stunning, and horrible, because lying there, broken and destroyed among the rubble of once proud buildings, was the Statue of Liberty.

“I'll say it again,” Patrick said quietly. “Saint Dane hit the jackpot. He found the perfect moment in time that he could manipulate and send three territories into oblivion. Clear.”

The images disappeared. Good thing. I couldn't take it anymore. The three of us sat there in silence. We had just seen doomsday. It's hard to know what to say after that.

“Could there be a mistake?” Gunny asked.

“Specific details may change,” Patrick answered. “But the basic situation would be the same. If Max Rose continues to operate his spy network, the Germans will develop the atom bomb first, and they will drop it on England and the United States.”

I had heard enough. We already figured that saving the
Hindenburg
would be a mistake. Seeing how great Third Earth was told us that. But now, seeing the horror show Patrick had just presented slammed the point home to me about as hard as possible. Any doubts I had about what I wanted to do were gone.

I stood up and said, “We're on the wrong territory.”

Gunny stood up. “Yes, we are,” he said with purpose.

“I'm coming,” Patrick announced. “I want to help.”

Gunny looked at me. I wasn't sure if Patrick coming along was a good idea or not.

“I don't think so, Patrick,” Gunny said. “We've got to hit the ground running once we get back. We wouldn't have time to teach you all you'd need to know about First Earth. No offense, but you might end up being more trouble than help.”

Gunny was right. Patrick wouldn't know simple things, like how to get across a busy street. We couldn't afford to be slowed down by anything, even a friend.

“I understand,” Patrick said, looking disappointed.

“Besides,” Gunny said. “You did your part. Now it's our turn.” Gunny then turned to me and said, “You ready for this, shorty?”

How could I answer that question? How could anyone be ready for what we had to do? I know why Gunny asked me though. A few minutes before, I was out of control. I wanted my life back. Though I knew stopping Saint Dane from destroying the territories and taking control of Halla was important, it felt like a fantasy. I was tired of living in a fantasy. But after seeing what Saint Dane had in mind for the three Earth territories, the fantasy had suddenly become real. Now he was hitting me where I lived. So how did I answer a huge question like that?

“Absolutely.”

Gunny smiled. Next stop, First Earth.

Before hitting the flume, I sat in the library and wrote most of this journal. I didn't want to wait until we got back, because if something happens to me, well, let's just say I wanted to make sure this journal was written. I trusted that the flumes would get us back in time.

Patrick drove us back up to the Bronx and the green shelter that would lead us down to the subway.

“We'll see you again,” Gunny said with certainty. “And it will be here on Third Earth.
This
Third Earth.”

Patrick nodded. He didn't seem as confident as Gunny. He then turned to me and said, “Pendragon, your uncle told me that if I ever doubted myself, or our mission, that I should put my faith in you. Should I put my faith in you?”

Whoa.
Uncle Press said that about me? Patrick was looking for some kind of guarantee that everything was going to be okay. I wished I could give it to him.

“I'm not sure why he'd say that,” I answered truthfully. “But I do know one thing. You might as well put your faith in us, because there's nobody else.”

On that solemn note, the three of us parted.

A second before we went underground, I took one last look at Third Earth. I really hoped it wouldn't be the last time I saw it like this. Gunny and I then hurried down the escalator, across the platform, down onto the tracks, and back to the gate that led to the flume. There we quickly traded our Third Earth clothes for our First Earth clothes. We didn't even talk. We were both focused on getting back as quickly as possible.