The Traveler Read online

  “Ah, the gist of the theory.” Thomsen clapped his hands together in excitement as Himmler took in a deep breath.

  He was forced to listen to the egghead braggart tell his tale, one in which he was growing ever tired of hearing. The man could not keep his mouth shut, and Himmler knew that was going to be a problem that was easily remedied when the final testing and assembly was complete inside the Berlin city limits. He brushed all thought of covering his tracks aside as Thomsen continued his explanation.

  “The doorway we have here will read the coordinates we have programmed into the Traveler’s jump pattern, which in turn will read the radio and electron waves from the area of the entered coordinates. When it doesn’t find a corresponding signal the signal amplifiers start a search until it finds the correct signal from a doorway we know isn’t there any longer, because we dismantled all but the portal and signal amplifiers almost as soon as it was built. The signal is then transferred to a transmission tower high in the Harz Mountains. The reinforced radio waves will search time and space for its sister signal. We know it will not find it simply because it no longer exists—in this current time frame—but it does occupy the same space in the past. Still, the searching transmission will not be defeated when the acquisition of past signal cannot be found. It will expand into space, which we all know is limitless. However, our signal transmitters are so powerful that it travels, and then travels even farther through space until it gets a glimmer of a return.” Thomsen gestured toward the laboratory floor where a technician leaned into a microphone at his station.

  “Signal acquired at zero twenty hours local time, latitude fifty-one degrees north, longitude seven degrees twenty-seven east.”

  “Excellent, now confirm signal origin, please,” Thomsen said into the intercom.

  As the men in the room watched on, the signal emanating from the doorway below it ceased to beep. On the overhead speakers they heard a weaker signal coming from somewhere other than the doorway they were looking at.

  “Signal capture confirmed, the doorways are conversing with each other,” called out the technician from below.

  “Are you saying that the transmission is now being picked up by the original doorway dismantled last year?” one of the three industrialists asked. Thomsen saw the smile grow on Himmler’s face, and that was the only approval he needed.

  “Correct. Now we will make the connection and the doorway will open. Thus far we have the power to only send two hundred kilos through the door, but we will expand on that as we get more power from the Möhne Dam. The force of the connection expands the rift until a portal, tunnel as we call it, is constructed through the time and space dimensions as described by my colleague Herr Einstein. We have yet to figure the dynamics of the tunnel, but we will learn far more in the next year or so with continued testing and refinement. Soon we will have the full dynamics of the doorway solved.”

  “You have until Christmas 1945, Herr Professor,” Himmler said as the others in the room looked shocked.

  “Such a precise and restrictive date, Herr Reichsfüher?” Thomsen inquired worriedly.

  “My offices have calculated the approximate month of Germany’s final destruction, and that was the most optimistic view rendered. By then we will all be on the run from the Jew-loving allies. Then we will be caught and hung.” Himmler turned and faced the men in the room. They all knew that his estimates of the downfall of the Thousand-Year Reich were accurate. “This machine has to be online before this happens. I, gentlemen, do not intend to follow our great leader into his immortal destiny.”

  The men in the room were now only twenty minutes away from confirming the fact that they had a viable escape route out of Germany when the war was finally lost.

  The plan? Run to a place they knew was far safer than the capital would be in 1945. That place was right here, almost two years in the past.

  The age of time travel had arrived.

  TWO HUNDRED MILES WEST OF THE MÖHNE DAM, GERMANY (OPERATION CHASTISE)

  Squadron Leader Guy Gibson felt the heaviness of his Avro Lancaster bomber as it flew at twenty-two thousand feet above France. They had successfully departed England without arousing suspicion just as the plan had called for. His squadron of heavy night bombers was now entering Germany without the Luftwaffe knowing they were coming. Target—the Möhne Dam near Dortmund, Germany. Their task, take out the dam that supplied power to various locations the allies wished to go away. Not only was the process of developing the hard water needed in atomic research progressing near the dams of Germany, but the rumors of even more disturbing projects had started to filter through the minutia of intelligence coming through London and Washington.

  Gibson checked on his navigator.

  “How are we coming back there, Terry?” he asked through his rubber mask.

  “Eighty-seven kilometers from target. We are exactly two minutes ahead of schedule.”

  “Bloody good,” Gibson said to himself as he knew the timing of the bomb drop had to be precise to the minute for the most audacious attack to date outside of the American raid on Tokyo by Colonel Jimmy Doolittle a year before.

  “Very good, boys. Now, how is our darling little Bouncing Baby Boy doing back there?” Gibson asked into his mic.

  “Upkeep is now breathing, waiting for final arming sequence,” came the reply from the bomb bay compartment of the large aircraft.

  Hanging half in and half out of the bomb bay doors was what the RAF had dubbed “Upkeep.” The cylindrical bomb was designed to hit the water in front of a dam and “skip” over the reservoir to the wall of concrete and slowly settle to the bottom of the reservoir where it would detonate at its base. The resulting explosion would be catastrophic to the core of the dam, bringing it all down. There would be two nights of these specialized raids on the dam complexes of Germany.

  The Bouncing Baby Boy was on its way to end Germany’s attempt at developing an atomic weapons platform. However, Squadron Leader Gibson had been briefed and knew that the mission was so much more than that.

  THE WELLSIAN DOORWAY

  “Expand the doorway, please, gentlemen,” Thomsen said as an assistant started passing out earplugs. It was Himmler who raised a brow. “The sonic wave that assaults the inner ear can be rather uncomfortable without protection, Herr Reichsführer.” He nervously watched as the leader of the SS nodded his head only once.

  Below, the technicians were moving about excitedly as the doorway started to expand by hydraulic lines into a more circular pattern that allowed the stainless steel frame, lined with ceramic tiles, to take its shape so the magnets inside the ceramics could negotiate the complex design. The ceramics were designed to hold back the generated heat that would in turn protect the Traveler from being fried alive inside. The Wellsian Doorway was now six times the size it had been when the hydraulics expansion had started. A loud clang was heard as fifty technicians came through an expanded tunnel with an electric cart pulling a long train of what looked like chain-link. The entirety of the chain was one hundred feet in length and looked as if it went from one conductive coil to the next. Once the electric car was in place a remotely controlled arm started pulling the secured end of the chain up until the entire length was only a few feet from the concrete floor.

  “All nonessential personnel evacuate the test area,” came an announcement from below as the room was totally cleared with the exception of ten technicians who remained fixated on their consoles. “Connect the light accelerator.”

  Himmler stood and went to the window as he watched the most expensive piece of hardware ever developed by German science as it dangled off the floor. The chain itself was constructed out of a hard plastic material that had been “weaved” together, forming a composite of nylon, copper, and plastic to form a new element called rylar, a composite manufacturing system originally regarded as years ahead of the curve in composite technology and would eventually fill the need in the aircraft industry for lightweight materials. In this experiment the ma
terial would be used to control the tremendous amount of heat generated by the doorway. Interspaced at equal intervals along this chain was what made the proposition of displacement possible—industrial blue diamonds. Himmler and his SS had spent two years collecting these hard-to-come-by diamonds the world over, stolen from museums that had been ransacked by the German army and raids on South African mining facilities. All together there were fifty-six five-ounce diamonds ensconced in the ceramic cocoon, which resembled large, oblong bluish pearls.

  As the observers watched on, the chain was moved to the very top of the expanded rectangle of the doorway. The robotic arm held it there by the manipulations of a trained technician. They heard loud humming as a bracket was lowered from the top of the doorway and the arm hooked the chain to it. Then the arm released that end and connected the opposite end. Now the large diamond-ensconced chain was loosely hanging from the hook as the manipulating arm was moved away. The mood was silent as the robotic arm was moved and stored.

  “Stand by for charging of the system,” Thomsen said into the intercom as a wall was raised below to protect the technicians at their controls. They would be shielded by the charging of the doorway when a flood of neutrinos and charged particles of ion were introduced to the conductive chain. Thomsen could see that Himmler was wide-eyed as he watched. Even though he had seen film of the previous tests and its success Himmler was still fascinated as he watched it live. For the success, or for the chance to watch one of his precious subjects lose their lives, Thomsen wasn’t sure. “Herr Reichsführer, when the doorway is fully charged, do not be alarmed when you feel a disorientation as it comes to full power. Its sound waves act as an hallucinogen introduced through the inner ear for some.”

  “Is it dangerous to us?” he asked as he once again took a seat to watch.

  “Frankly, Herr Reichsführer, we just don’t know what the long-term effects will be.”

  Himmler nodded. He really didn’t care since the damnable technology would only be used once and for a singular purpose—his escape from the Russians, or the allies.

  The lights throughout the complex dimmed as power was brought online. Five miles down the line, buried deeply underground, were the three large rubber-encased conduit electrical lines that ran in from the Möhne Dam twenty-five miles away. They were heating up so much the rubber casing started to sizzle.

  “Preparing to charge,” came the confident announcement from below.

  Thomsen, with a final look and nod from Himmler, opened the intercom to the laboratory below. “Charge the doorway!”

  A piercing scream filled the air around every man watching the test. Himmler forced his hands to his ears and then he quickly inserted the earplugs that he had forgotten about. As the audio assault continued one of the SS guards bent over and went to his knees as he became violently ill. Himmler angrily nodded that the man should be removed and punished later for showing his weakness.

  “Pulse!” Thomsen said, hoping that the final charging of the doorway would also double Himmler over. But the small man held firm and only gritted his teeth at the onslaught of inner-ear sound and minute vibrations.

  Below, the charge of electricity burst into the chain and it stiffened to a straight line of two rows as electricity flowed through it.

  Thomsen paced to the side of the Reichsführer and leaned down. “The magnets inside the door frame will be charged and the chain, or what we call the particle accelerator, will conform to its designed structure.”

  The final charge was sent through the accelerator. Suddenly there was a bright explosion of light as the circular chain rounded and became taut as the force of the magnets inside the doorway distributed magnetism to equal parts of the chain, which brought the expensive links to attention, forming a perfect circle inside the rectangular doorway. As Himmler watched, the interior of the man-made circle started to shimmer. It was as if an invisible wave moved the very air around inside the accelerator as it hung magically in suspended form in a perfect circle where the opposing magnets held it at bay.

  “We are forming a man-made current. Just as if we have shot an arrow underwater, the particle accelerator has now forced ions into the doorway. We are seeing this shimmering simply because as of this moment the current and flow have no place to go, or to lock on to, so the entire assault of our time and space remains contained in this laboratory. Start the revolution, please.”

  The magnets started to rotate, and then spun faster and faster until there was nothing but a trail of blue light forming the brightest of flares any of the men had ever witnessed. The RPMs increased as even more power from the Möhne Dam was used. The sheer power was pulsing energy into the surrounding air. The chain connected fast, and then released the opposing magnets to the next in line, which made the speed reach incalculable levels. This same design would be used in particle accelerators in the future.

  “We are now going to send our signal into the doorway.” Thomsen again spoke into the intercom. “Go to full revolutions on the particle accelerator!”

  Below the circular chain of composite material, steel, plastic, and ceramic was spinning at the speed of sound, which was bringing men to their knees. Himmler grimaced and took hold of the arms of his chair to fight the nausea filling his throat. Thomsen didn’t have to explain that this was the closest man had ever come to achieving the speed of light.

  A blue haze started to fill the interior of the accelerator as the RPMs continued to multiply. For three hundred kilometers around the Möhne Dam, lights dimmed and transformers blew in almost every town and city. Lightbulbs and fixtures exploded inside the laboratory, making men duck and technicians smile as they felt the power of the very universe strike deep inside the landscape of Germany.

  “Now we are near to the power we need,” Thomsen said excitedly.

  “For what, Herr Professor?”

  “To make the connection to the dismantled gate of two years ago, Herr Reichsführer.”

  God, Himmler thought to himself, this maniac may have actually produced a viable plan for the second-most powerful man in Germany. “You may proceed as soon as you are ready.”

  “Bring in the Traveler,” Thomsen said as his eyes went to a small doorway in the far wall as it opened, and two white-coated lab technicians escorted a frightened girl into the lab. She was so emaciated Himmler thought she would collapse.

  “Our subject for the test is twelve-year-old Moira Mendelsohn, she is from—”

  “I do not wish to know the Jew’s name, or anything else about her for that matter, Professor.”

  “Yes, yes, of course, you have my apologies. Needless to say the Traveler tested at a one hundred forty-seven IQ. Her brother tested only a few points less. Thus far the Traveler has performed magnificently. Now with the guarantee of her return by her brother’s very presence.”

  Himmler watched below as the thin and sickly girl was led to the front of the doorway. They had already placed earphones on her small head to protect her from the audio assault element of the test. Her clothing was tattered and worn as Thomsen wanted the Reichsführer to see that nothing special outside of headphone protection was needed. Her clothing was the same gray rags she had on when she had been transferred from Bergen-Belsen a month before. All the observers could see the yellow Star of David badly stitched to her gray dress. The small scabs on her head from lice infestation from the camps were hidden as well as possible so as not to offend the sensitivities of Himmler, who was widely known for his weak stomach when it came to observing the men, women, and children he had so ruthlessly rounded up. He could talk a good game, but when it came to facing the things he did he was more on the shy side according to British and American intelligence sources. The girl was shaking and quietly crying. The task she was to perform had been explained to her and would be no different from the last test that she performed flawlessly. To ensure the girl’s cooperation, a small boy was also escorted into the room and placed into a chair. The doe-eyed male was no more than eight years of ag
e.

  “I was led to believe that there would only be one test subject,” the man from Krupp Steel inquired as he saw the tears in both the boy’s and the girl’s eyes as they finally saw each other. It looked as if the girl tried to shrug the hand of the technician away in an attempt to go to comfort the frightened child.

  “The boy is not a test subject, sir. He is what we would describe as insurance.”

  The dawning of understanding illuminated the industrialist’s features.

  “This was the Reichsführer’s idea, after all, we do want certain guarantees that our wayward Traveler steps back into the first doorway and returns. A precaution we have taken since she does know this is the final test with her involvement. After her usefulness is at an end she will be returned to Bergen-Belsen for”—he looked briefly at Himmler—“whatever her fate will be.”

  No more needed to be said. Thomsen was proving he could be as brutal as Himmler himself.

  “Start the signal!” Thomsen cried excitedly.

  The doorway was acting like a centrifuge, so powerful in its rotation that the frightened girl shied away from the forces assaulting her. The technician patted the young girl on the shoulder and then stepped away. Suddenly a burst of sound penetrated the noise from below and held steady.

  “Tone is sounding and is now in active search mode.”

  Himmler grimaced as the piercing sound of the signal assaulted his ears even through the earplugs. The girl went to her knees as the pain of the signal coupled with the spinning accelerator knocked the senses from her small body.

  “We have signal bounce back! Yes, we have a return!”

  Thomsen smiled as he knew the two doorways were talking to each other. The space between times had been breached.

  “The Jew Einstein was right all along.”

  Thomsen smiled down at Himmler. That Jew, as he called him, was the most brilliant theorist Thomsen had ever studied. Himmler and Hitler were fools for chasing these people off like they had; science would not benefit from their action. He went to the intercom.