“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 sho
t 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.”
Gunny took the cart and wheeled it toward the door. “Oh, one more thing. Before work, we’ll stop by the barbershop in the lobby. We can’t have you two working here looking like ladies.”
I hated to admit it, but Gunny was right. My hair was getting long and shaggy. Spader’s black hair was almost to his shoulders. These were definitely not 1937 cuts.
“What’s a barbershop?” Spader asked.
“G’night, gentlemen,” Gunny said. “Sleep tight.” He opened the door, then turned back to us and said, “How’s this?” He rapped twice on the door, then once, then three times.
“The perfect secret knock,” I said.
“I always wanted to be a G-man,” Gunny said with a smile. He closed the door and we were alone.
“What’s a G-man?” Spader asked again.
“It’s not important,” I answered.
“Then tell me about this World War Two. Is it really the natty-do you’re saying?”
“Worse,” I answered solemnly. “I don’t know the words to describe how bad it was. If there’s a chance we could stop it, it would be beyond incredible.”
Spader stood up and smiled. “Right then! I have a sudden urge to pee. Not that I’m nervous mind you. I’m just…scared to death.” He went for the bathroom, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
The ideas we were throwing around were too huge to comprehend. Was it possible that we might find the trigger here in New York that would start a chain reaction to prevent World War Two? A horror like that war was right up Saint Dane’s alley. Of course, that meant Saint Dane would be doing his best to make sure we wouldn’t find that trigger. That would be the challenge. Same old, same old.
Then three knocks came at the door.
I got up to let Gunny back in, figuring he had forgotten to tell us something. I hoped it was about breakfast. I was stuffed, but the thought of bacon and eggs was a sweet one.
“I can’t believe you forgot the secret knock already,” I called out as I headed for the door. “You’d make a lousy G-man.”
I opened the door and instantly got shoved back into the room. I fell down on my butt, hard. At first I didn’t get why Gunny would have done that. When I got my wits back and looked up, I had my answer.
It wasn’t Gunny.
Standing over me were the two gangsters from the subway station. The nasty one had a black revolver pointed right at my nose.
“Ain’t no G-man around to help you now,” he snarled.
JOURNAL #9
FIRST EARTH
I was on my butt, looking up at two guys who only a few hours before had tried to kill me. They didn’t even bother covering their faces with handkerchiefs this time. They were a couple of gnarly-looking dudes too. The nasty one was, well, nasty looking. He had a pudgy face and dark, wild eyes. He was one of those guys who had to shave every hour or he’d have a Fred Flintstone thing going on.
The other guy, the tense one, looked a little less tense than before. I’m sure that was because he didn’t have an
audience now. He had thin features and a sharp, beaklike nose. He still didn’t look all too happy about what was going on though. I glanced into his eyes and thought I caught a hint of sympathy. But not enough to call off his bulldog partner. The nasty guy held his pistol on me. It was an old-style revolver with a long barrel. It wasn’t high-tech, but I’m sure it could get the job done.
“How did you find us?” I asked while crawling backward.
“We got eyes everywhere,” said the nasty one, with a touch of cockiness. “You can run, but you can’t hide.”
“Why are you after us?” I asked.
“I got nothing against you,” Nasty said. “But my associate is another story.”
His associate. Who was that? Saint Dane? I wanted to keep these guys talking. Maybe I could use my Traveler hypnosis on him. But that would be tough, seeing as I was too scared to think straight, let alone concentrate enough to use mind powers I wasn’t even sure I knew how to use in the first place.
“You have the wrong guy,” I said with desperation, though I knew he probably had the exact right guy.
The gangster bent down and stuck the muzzle of the gun in my face. “Winn Farrow don’t make mistakes like that.”
Winn Farrow. Who was Winn Farrow?
More important, why did he want us killed? It was then that I saw something move out of the corner of my eye. It was Spader. He was behind the gangsters. I tried not to look at him because that would give him away.
“I…I don’t know any Winn Farrow,” I said.
Spader cautiously moved behind one of the sofas that was standing on end.
“I’m not here to argue with you, sonny boy, I’m here to tell you how it’s gonna be. Don’t go sticking your nose where it don’t belong,” he said. “If somebody gets in Winn Farrow’s way, he won’t be there for long, if you catch my drift.”
The sofa behind the gangsters started to move. Spader was going to topple it over on them. I had to use every ounce of willpower to keep the gangsters’ eyes on me.
“Okay, I hear you. Can I ask you a question though?”
“What?”
“Can I have my ring back?”
The question caught the gangsters off guard. They both looked at me as if I were nuts. Here they were putting on this big strong-arm intimidation show, and all I cared about was my ring. It confused them. Good. It was the perfect time for Spader to make his move. But it didn’t exactly work out that way.