The Never War (5 page)

“Where's the TV?” I asked.

Gunny gave me a curious look. “The what?”

Duh. TV wasn't invented yet. “Never mind,” I said, feeling like an idiot. “How about a radio?”

“I'm sure there's one around here someplace,” answered Gunny. “Are you two hungry?”

“Absolutely,” I answered.

“I could go for a kooloo fish and some sniggers,” said Spader.

Gunny gave him the same curious look he gave me when I asked about the TV. “I'll see what I can find,” he said. “You two make yourselves at home. I'm going to get you some clothes. Is there anything else you might need?”

“Something to write on,” I said. “We've got to keep up with our journals.”

“Right,” answered Gunny. “I'll be back.”

Gunny ambled out of the room, leaving Spader and me alone. I walked to the far side of the room, where fancy doors led to a balcony. I opened them and stepped outside. It was close to sunset. From our sixth-floor landing, I got a pretty good view south and west, where the sun was headed down.

“Is this where you grew up?” asked Spader. He was standing right behind me. I hadn't heard him coming.

“No, about thirty miles from here,” I answered. “And more than half a century in the future. How weird is that?”

It really was. This was home, but not really. I had an idea that maybe I should try to find my grandparents. They were around in 1937. But then I remembered that my family had disappeared. Did that mean our whole family history disappeared along with them? I had to stop thinking about it. It was making me homesick.

“It's a scary-do,” Spader said while gazing out at the city. “I've never seen anything so busy.”

“You'll get used to it,” I assured him.

“I suppose so,” Spader added. “But I'm thinking about Saint Dane. There's a lot of natty-do that monster could get into in a big city like this. How are we going to find him?”

Good question. Saint Dane loose in New York City was a scary thought. “Something tells me he'll find us,” I said. “I'm going to take a shower.”

The bathroom was almost as big as the living room. This was definitely a suite for hotshot guests. The whole room was covered with white tiles. The bathtub was huge and stood on feet. There was a giant silver showerhead that sprayed enough water to wash a horse. I cranked up the shower, got it good and hot, and stood underneath the spray to let it massage my head.

As I stood there trying to get brain dead, an odd thought hit me: I wasn't going to school anymore.

I know. Weird thing to think about all of a sudden. Maybe it was because I was sort of home. Part of me was psyched. School was important and all, but it wasn't exactly something I looked forward to. On the other hand, school
was
important. It was where you learned stuff. What your parents didn't teach you, school did. As I stood in that shower, I actually started to get nervous. All my friends were going to pass me by. They were learning things that I wasn't.

Then I thought of all the places I'd been that day. Hmmm. Maybe I was getting a pretty intense education after all. I wasn't going to Stony Brook Junior High anymore; I was a full-time student at Traveler U. Maybe that was all the education I was going to need. After batting these ideas back and forth in my head, I came to one solid conclusion:

All this thinking was ruining my shower.

I stood there for another ten minutes, then found a stack of thick white towels, dried off, and left the bathroom to Spader.

A few minutes later I was in the living room, settled into a
cushy chair with my feet up while Spader washed away his own thoughts. I was so dog tired, my eyes started to close. It was the first time since we got here that I could let the air out, and it felt great.

Then an urgent knock came at the door.

My eyes shot open instantly. I wasn't asleep anymore. I wasn't even tired. So much for letting the air out.

Spader poked his head out of the bathroom. He shot me a questioning look that said, “What do we do?”

I had no idea. We were busted. It looked like our stay at the hotel was going to be a short one.

T
his looked bad. How could we ever explain who we were and why we were hanging out on a closed floor of the hotel? In bathrobes. I didn't want to get Gunny in trouble, but I didn't want to get arrested, either.

I snuck quietly over to the door, desperately trying to think up a story that would get us off the hook. None came. I peered through the peephole to get a look at who we would have to deal with and saw…

“Room service!” announced Gunny with a big smile.

Phew. Talk about relief. I opened the door and Gunny came in wheeling a big cart that was loaded with those silver domes they put over plates to keep them hot.

“Feeling better?” he asked.

“I am now,” I answered. “We gotta get a secret knock or something so we know it's you.”

“Secret knock. I like that,” Gunny said with a sparkling smile. “Like G-men.”

“Like what?” asked Spader as he walked in with a towel around his waist.

“Can we eat now?” I asked.

“All in good time, gentlemen,” Gunny said. “We've got business first.”

The cart was draped with a white tablecloth that went down to the floor. Gunny reached underneath and pulled out two brown packages. “Try these on for size,” he said, and tossed one to each of us. We tore them open to find our First Earth clothes, courtesy of one of the shops here in the hotel. We each had a pair of wool pants with jackets. My pants were light gray with a darker gray jacket. Spader's were a light brown with a matching jacket. We each had plain white shirts.

“What do I do with these?” Spader asked as he held up a pair of long, white boxer shorts.

Gunny laughed. “Don't they wear underwear where you come from?”

“Sure,” answered Spader. “But I could make a sail out of these. They'll get all twisted up.”

I put mine on and they came down to my knees. But you know what? I didn't care. It felt good to wear regular cotton underwear again, even if I looked like some kind of grandpa. We also had white T-shirts, black socks, and dark leather shoes. The pants had suspenders, too. That was kind of cool. I'd never worn suspenders before. And everything fit perfectly. Gunny was a good judge. After we both got dressed, Gunny looked us over and smiled.

“Now you look like you belong,” he said proudly.

“Can we eat now?” I asked.

“Patience, shorty, patience.” Gunny reached under the cart and pulled out a stack of white paper and a small typewriter. “You can use this to type your journals,” he said. “It's faster than writing.”

“What is that thing?” asked Spader.

“I'll teach you,” I said. I had only typed on a computer keyboard before, but figured I could learn how to do it the old-fashioned way. “Now can we eat?” I begged. The smell of the food was making me salivate.

“One more thing,” said Gunny. “Since you boys are going to be coming and going around here, I figured out a way you can fit right in.” He reached back under the cart and pulled out two uniforms like the one Dewey, the elevator guy, wore. “You're going to work here as bellhops.”

“What's a bellhop?” asked Spader.

Gunny explained. “You greet guests, help them with their luggage, and run errands around the hotel. It's easy work, and you'll have a terrific boss.”

“Who?” Spader asked.

“Me.”

“This all sounds good but, can we
please
eat now?” I asked in desperation.

“Have a seat, gentlemen,” Gunny said. “It's chow time.”

We both sat down while Gunny wheeled the cart in front of us. “I wasn't exactly sure of what to order,” he teased. “But after some deep thought, I believe I came up with the perfect menu.” With a flourish, Gunny lifted up two of the silver domes.

What I saw made me so happy I wanted to cry.

Since I left home I had eaten some very strange food. It wasn't bad, just different. On Denduron I had lots of vegetables and an occasional rabbit. On Cloral I ate a ton of fish and all sorts of weirdball fruits and vegetables from the underwater farms. On Zadaa, Loor had made us some good crunchy bread along with spicy vegetables. All of the food I had was good, but nothing compared to what was sitting before us right now.

We each had our own big, juicy cheeseburger and pile of golden French fries…direct from heaven. Gunny reached under the cart and pulled out a champagne bucket loaded with ice and bottles of Coke.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“I think you're a genius,” I said quickly.

Spader wasn't enthused. “What is that stuff?” he asked nervously.

“Cheeseburger, French fries, Coke—food of the gods, my friend,” I said. I lifted up my burger, took a delicious whiff, closed my eyes, and wolfed into it. Oh, yeah, I was home.

Spader lifted up a fry, looking at it curiously. “What exactly is a french before it's fried?” he asked.

“White vegetable, cut in strips, fried in grease,” I answered. “Stop talking. I'm trying to focus.”

We didn't say another word for the rest of the meal. Spader ate reluctantly, but didn't seem to hate it. I put ketchup on our fries and salted them up real good. Man, they were excellent. The whole while Gunny stood over us, smiling. He was like a proud chef who enjoyed the way his food was being appreciated.

Then, for dessert, Gunny lifted two more silver covers to reveal…banana splits. Yes! He even had a couple glasses of milk to wash it all down. It was all so incredibly excellent. It had been a very long day, but this dinner made it all worthwhile. I wanted it to last forever, but my stomach was screaming for me to stop. I was totally stuffed and absolutely happy.

“Now don't go expecting this kind of service again,” Gunny cautioned. “This is special because you just arrived. After this you eat in the kitchen with the rest of the staff.”

“Gunny,” I said. “You have no idea how perfect this is.”

“Oh, I got a pretty good idea,” he said with a smile.

“But it's better than you think,” I added. “Tomorrow's my birthday and this is the best present ever.”

“Then happy birthday, shorty,” Gunny said, beaming. “Many happy returns.”

“Happy birthday, mate,” said Spader. “Wish I could raise a pint of sniggers.”

“Yeah, but this'll do me just fine,” I said, holding up a bottle of Coke.

Gunny took the now empty cart and put it by the door. He then came back into the living room and sat down with us. As much as I wanted to kick back, burp, and pretend life was good, that wasn't meant to be. We were here for a reason, and it wasn't to gork out stuffed on burgers.

“This is all new to me,” Gunny said. “Chasing Saint Dane, I mean. What do we do?”

It was time to get down to some
real
business. The party was over.

“All the territories are reaching a turning point,” I said, holding back a burp. “We've got to figure out what that turning point is here on First Earth, and what Saint Dane is doing to push it the wrong way.”

“This should be snappy-do, Pendragon,” Spader announced. “You're from this territory. I mean, you're from the
future
of this territory. Think of something big that happened in 1937 that Saint Dane might be messing around with.”

The pressure was on. I wasn't very good at history. It all seemed so boring, memorizing dates and places and speeches made by guys I didn't care about. But even though I was historically challenged, it didn't take me very long to come up with an idea. To be honest, it was a no-brainer.

“You've got something, don't you, mate?” Spader asked with a sly smile.

I did, but I wished I didn't. The more I thought about it, the more freaked I got. This was bad. This was
really
bad. My heart started to pump faster and my palms got sweaty.

“What is it?” asked Gunny.

“There
is
something,” I began. “I don't remember all the dates. But there is definitely something big about to go down.”

“So tell us, mate!” exclaimed Spader.

“The war you were in, Gunny,” I said. “The Great War? That became known as World War One.”

Gunny's eyes grew very wide. “Are you saying there's going to be a World War Two?” he asked in shock.

I nodded.

Gunny looked down and shook his head sadly. “And they said it was the war to end all wars.”

“They were wrong,” I said.

“When did it happen?” asked Spader. “Who was fighting?”

I suddenly wished I hadn't slept through Mr. Varady's world history class.

“I don't know all the facts,” I said. “There was this Hitler dude from Germany who tried to take over Europe. And Japan tried to take over Asia.”

“That's
two
wars,” Spader said.

“I think that's why they call it a
world
war,” I shot back. “They fought against Russia and the United States and England and China and France and oh,
man
! This is huge! Millions of people died. Millions. It changed the world!”

Spader said, “So maybe we should go over to Germany and talk to this Hitler fella.”

I laughed at that. “You don't get it,” I said. “We can't just go over to Berlin, knock on Adolf Hitler's door and say, ‘Excuse me, Mr. Hitler, you don't know us, but we'd really like you to reconsider this Holocaust thing. Okey dokey?'”

“Why not?” asked Spader innocently.

“Trust me. We're talking about leaders of huge nations ruling millions of people. This is so far out of our league, it's not even funny.”

“So when does it all happen?” he asked.

I had to stand up and pace, hoping it would rattle loose some factoids I might have picked up somewhere.

“I don't know the dates. But it wasn't all of a sudden. There was a buildup. The wheels were definitely turning by 1937 but I don't think it got to be a full-blown war until almost 1940. Guys, this sounds
exactly
like something Saint Dane would stick his nose into, and we are
way
over our heads.”

Gunny had been listening quietly. It must have been tough for him to hear that the world was about to be turned upside down again. Finally he said, “Don't be so sure about that.”

“Are you crazy?” I shouted back at him.

“Think about it,” Gunny argued innocently. “We know the war is coming, and we know Saint Dane is here to cause trouble. It all sort of fits. Our job might be to stop this war from happening.”

“That's impossible!” I shouted. “There's no way the three of us could stop something so big.”

“Maybe,” Gunny said thoughtfully. “Or maybe we're thinking about it the wrong way.”

“Gunny,” I said patiently. “It's a
world war.
Airplanes. Guns. Bombs. Soldiers. Millions of soldiers. We're two kids with big underwear and a tall guy in a fancy suit. I don't mean to sound negative, but I'm thinking Saint Dane may have picked a winner here.”

Gunny nodded thoughtfully. “I hear you. There's no way in heaven we could stop something like that once it got going.
But the thing is, what if it's only a little thing that gets it going in the first place?”

“Explain that, please, mate,” said Spader.

“I'm saying that you never know what leads to what. There might be a little old something that happens that seems like nothing at first, but it might lead to something else, and that leads to something else, and so on and so on until you find yourself in the middle of a big old war.”

“But—”

“Don't ‘but' me so quick, shorty,” Gunny interrupted. “Think about it first.”

“Okay,” I said, forcing myself to stop hyperventilating. “You're thinking there might be something small about to happen, that's going to start a chain reaction that will lead to World War Two…and we have a shot at stopping it?” I asked.

“Maybe.”

“You're dreaming!” I shouted.

“I might be, at that,” Gunny said. “But I know we're here for a reason. I also know that Saint Dane is here, somewhere. From what I've heard, he doesn't show up just to sightsee.”

“He's right, mate,” exclaimed Spader. “What if Saint Dane is here to make sure something happens that leads to the big war? Or what if he's trying to make the war into something bigger than it was going to be already? Hobey, if we find out what it is, we could make sure it doesn't happen.”

I wanted to believe it was possible. I really did. But it just seemed too incredible. The idea that we could do something to stop the worst war in history was a total fantasy.

“If you're right,” I said, “and I'm not saying you are, then it would have to have something to do with the gangsters Saint Dane sent to the flume to kill Uncle Press.”

“Now you're thinking!” Gunny exclaimed. “If we find a
connection between those thugs and what's brewing overseas, I'm guessing it'll lead us straight to Saint Dane.”

The three of us looked at each other. Was that it? Was our mission to figure out how Saint Dane was using some gangsters in New York to cause World War II?

“It sounds crazy,” I said. “But one thing is for sure: Whatever Saint Dane is doing here, it's definitely got something to do with these mob guys. I don't know if it will have anything to do with the war, but it's where we gotta start.”

“Right,” Spader said. “With the gangster-wogglies.”

Gunny stood up and straightened his suit. “That's where I come in. I've got friends in a lot of places; not all of them are good. I can ask some questions to get us started.”

I had no idea where any of this would lead, but I felt confident that we were starting in the right place. Where it would take us was anybody's guess.

“Get some rest,” Gunny said. “I'll come get you in the morning when it's time for work. Be ready early.”