Authors: David Golemon
“Sometimes we in power become blinded by the need to protect those who can't do it themselves.” The president lowered his head.
Niles and the others nodded at the man who had just been forced to look into the mirror and didn't like the face of the man who looked back. Compton could never allow the Event Group to become the personal pawn of the presidency. Technology had to be controlled. He knew the president's approval of the mission had been based on discovering time travel that could be used for the betterment of the United States, but Niles was smart enough to know that tech like the doorway was nothing more than what the Nazis had invented it forâthat of greed and power. He had to protect his friend.
“That's why you need people like these,” Niles said as he gestured sadly at all of his dead people memorialized in frames. “Mr. President, they can help you in protecting those that can't do it themselves, but we have to do it legally and aboveboard. These people, and many more thousands just like them, are your technology. Trust them, they do rather well when called upon.”
The president looked down at his friend and nodded. “I hate it when you become my conscience, Baldy. You're brutal, even more so than my wife.”
“Well, as Alice will tell you, I have the very same shortcomings myself.”
“Speaking of which, does that old woman still have the key to Lee's wet bar?”
Jack took out a key and tossed it to Niles.
“No, but I do. Come on, I'll buy you a drink,” Niles said as he turned and faced Jack and Virginia. “Join us?”
Virginia smiled and claimed she had never in her life turned down a free drink. She joined the trio.
“Jack?” the president asked, hoping the colonel would join them.
“I'm afraid I have something I have to take care of, Mr. President,” he said, and left the empty cafeteria.
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
Collins found himself alone on level seventy-two. He waited with the electric truck brimming full with Styrofoam-packaged materials. Finally Sarah showed up. She kissed him, knowing there were no cameras down here and not even Europa could spy on them.
“Ready to see the real wonderland?” he asked.
“I am surely not cleared for this level,” she said nervously. Jack only smiled.
Level seventy-two was the deepest level of the Event Group facility, the very farthest level from the top. It was the only level to house vaults that no one, not even the highest-ranking department heads, knew about. The black files were kept here and as Jack smiled he slowly pushed the crated material in and gestured for Sarah to follow. They deposited the Wellsian Doorway into the vault area. Jack explained that he just had to allow Sarah to see the strange items inside that would never, ever be exposed to the outside world. After an hour Sarah left the newly discovered level with her face showing the shock of what the Event Group had discovered throughout its long historyâitems that were so dangerous to the human race's existence that the level would never be visited by even those in power. After smiling at Sarah's shock, he then closed the heavy door and sealed it with his security badge. He turned and whistled as he and Sarah left the only operational time machine in the world, locked away from the greed of men.
Sometimes, as Jack and Niles had agreed upon, you had to give the United States Constitution a rest, just as the president had said those many years ago.
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
It was two weeks later when Jack, Carl, Sarah, and Anya stood inside the luxurious foyer of the expensive apartment on the Upper East Side of Manhattan. As they waited they saw the many pictures on the wall of students long since gone but raising families of their own.
Moira Mendelsohn wheeled herself into the foyer and smiled as she greeted the guests she hadn't seen since she had been whisked away by Group security before the federal authorities arrived in force at the navy yard.
“It's so good to see you again,” she said as she accepted the hugs from her new friends, the people who knew how to keep secrets.
“We thought we would stop in and see how you are doing, Professor,” Jack said as he studied the picture of a young child on the wall. He turned with a questioning look. “Boy, there's a resemblance there, isn't there?” Jack said.
“Oh, yes. That's my brother. It was taken three days before our family was rounded up in Poland,” she said with a sad look on her face.
“The boy you failed to find in all of your time travels?” Sarah asked as she joined Jack by the wall.
“Yes, I failed to save the one person that all of that was built for.”
Jack nodded at Carl and Anya, who stepped over to the front doors of the apartment and waited.
“Madam, on behalf of our Group, we would like to say thank you for everything that you did. As you know we have a computing system that basically has a mind of her own.”
“Oh, yes, that wonderful Europa. I realized that she wasn't your typical laptop.” She smiled.
“Well, she's damn good at digging. She found an older gentleman who lives in Battle Creek, Michigan, of all places.” Jack nodded that the doors should be opened. “Moira, you failed to find your brother because he was never in Germany after that night. Well, as you know we had that little mishap with the Russians and sent them back to Germany, where it is obvious they met a well-deserved fate. According to Master Chief Jenks and Virginia we screwed up the time line but good. We brought you the results of that screwup. It seems your brother in all of the confusion escaped Europe and made his way across the border, where a French family sheltered him until the war's end. He immigrated to the United States in 1949 and became a citizen two years after that. His name is Peter Chumskey.”
Carl and Anya gestured that the man should enter.
Moira's eyes widened as she recognized a boy in a man's body. She started crying and Sarah and Anya could not help but follow suit. The old and tired man rushed to the wheelchair-bound Moira and collapsed at her feet and hugged her legs.
Jack nodded at the others and they quietly left the apartment as the two siblings learned how love spanned even the ravages of time.
The Traveler and her only living relative were finally home.
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ALSO BY
DAVID L. GOLEMON
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DAVID L. GOLEMON
grew up in Chino, California. He has raised three great children and now makes his home in New York.
The Traveler
is the eleventh novel in his Event Group series. Visit David online at
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Contents
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This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.
THOMAS DUNNE BOOKS.
An imprint of St. Martin's Press.
THE TRAVELER.
Copyright © 2016 by David L. Golemon. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin's Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
Cover design and art by Jerry Todd
The Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.
ISBN 978-1-250-05764-8 (hardcover)
ISBN 978-1-4668-6143-5 (e-book)
e-ISBN 9781466861435
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First Edition: July 2016