Time Historian: A Time Travel Abraham Lincoln Alternate Universe Story

1

Chapter One

July 2192

I can’t believe we’re really here.

After spending hours with White House security, Hank McConnell and his team from the Historic Preservation Agency (HPA) made their way through the East Wing and toward the central staircase leading to the second floor of the prestigious building.

Eight months of political red tape, interviews with Secret Service, and background checks on all of us…easy peasy, Caleb said, his eyes wide as he took in the surroundings.

Hank’s heart raced with each step up the red-carpeted staircase. He gripped the wooden handrail, feeling the smooth texture as he glanced from painting to painting lining the walls. Since the Secret Service agents worked here every day, they surely found being in the White House a routine process. They had no idea Hank wanted to run down the halls, inspect every room, and take in the grandeur of this mansion.

He held degrees in political science and history and had dreamed of visiting America’s most famous house his entire life. The insane smile plastered across his face gave away his excitement, that is, if anyone bothered to pay him any attention.

Stay here.

The two Secret Service agents leading the way met another three at the top of the stairs, the more senior one telling them to wait.

Hank overheard part of their conversation, which referred to Olin Headly, the new member of the board of directors at the HPA. Olin’s clout allowed the team to get through security faster than normal.

Hank couldn’t imagine how long getting through security usually took. As it was, security spent hours briefing the team on what they could, and couldn’t do, inside this house.

Olin Headly…HPA’s team members. Here on…. The head security guard’s voice trailed off as he spoke into a com unit. The man’s tone was professional and matter-of-fact, with no cause of concern.

Evidently, Olin’s command and reach was vast, which surprised Hank. The man never stepped foot inside the HPA headquarters. He never holographed into a meeting, preferring only to conference by audio channels. The members of HPA really didn’t know the man, but thank God he had connections. Hank had suffered enough, even with today’s shortened length of the interviews and security checks.

The guards escorted Hank and his team of five to the famous Lincoln Bedroom in the corner of the hallway. He took a deep breath when the door opened, and his team entered the room.

You have been granted four hours and are not permitted to leave this room without security escort, the lead guard said.

We were told we would have six hours, Caleb protested, but the guard didn’t respond.

Four hours it is. Caleb turned from the guard and said in a hushed tone, but one that the guard could still hear as he closed the door, since there are no public restrooms in this building anyway, four hours should be fine.

The afternoon light cascaded through the two windows on the north side, lighting up the pattern in the rug and highlighting the gold trim of the paintings on the opposite wall. A static force field held the famous Lincoln Bed and two couches, with the rest of the furniture securely in the corner.

There she is, Caleb said, as he eyed a piece of furniture and walked toward it.

The one piece of historic furniture which remained within the room was a small wooden desk, which Lincoln used to store his hat, coat, and essential paperwork. At the team's request, the White House curator placed it exactly where it stood in 1862, between the two windows. It was plainly decorated with a light stain finish and looked out of place next to the computer equipment and the decontamination chamber surrounding it.

The small wooden desk would link the past to the present.

The camera the team planned to send back would be placed within the wood grain of the desk here in this time. Then the recorder would be teleported into the past, into the same desk located in the same spot back in 1862. If the furniture was not correctly placed, there would be no safe–haven for the camera’s journey. The desk had to be in perfect alignment if it would serve as the team’s life buoy.

Caleb opened a tiny equipment case and took out a theodolite. He place the tool on the carpet and turned it on. Instantly, laser lights measured vertical and horizontal survey points—with the two windows seal edges and the ceiling as the three landmark anchor points.

He adjusted the desk until he aligned it correctly. He then stood back and viewed a picture from 1862 as all the team members waited to hear if the project would continue.

Is it good? Hank asked, his voice holding some anxiety. If something went wrong, he’d be the one to transport back in time. The life buoy had to be perfect.

The life buoy is good. We’re all set. Caleb gently touched his shoulder and assured him. He then turned to address the rest of the team. The project is a ‘go’ and we can set up the rest of the equipment.

Homeland Security had moved HPA’s equipment while security detained them. With everything placed around the room, unpacking the computer setup would take no time at all and they could send the camera back.

Once back in 1862, the camera would record the room's landscape and then return, thus giving the team a blueprint to work from in case he needed to go back in time. That desk served as the time traveler’s life buoy demarking the safety zone of the room. It was the only security a time traveler had so he wouldn’t teleport back into the middle of a chair or other piece of furniture.

Hank didn’t believe the life buoy would be needed, but its presence comforted him.

The team busied themselves with their tasks, and Hank wondered if the surroundings also overwhelmed them. Of course, Hank’s job consisted of wearing a time suit and being patient. The rest of the team focused on their more intensive jobs.

Glancing toward the fireplace, he caught a glimpse of James Slayton, the lead developer, checking the history databases, indexing the travel dates as well as today’s date onto the persistent memory storage area of a small computer chip. The data would be Hank’s only link to the real timeline and any historical changes if anything went wrong.

But what could go wrong? A thin, nearly invisible camera going back in time should be undetected. He looked at the energy specialist, Aaron Mills, and team lead, Caleb Hunter, who studied the life buoy. Aaron’s hand stroked the heavy oak wood grain of the table. He then nodded to Caleb, who smiled in return—pleased with their selection.

I need you to sit. Juliana Santiago, the team doctor, and the fifth team member placed a small stool in front of Hank. I need to get some readings.

Taking his seat, the time suit adjusted and flexed at the knees, molding to his six–foot–four tall body with ease. The skintight, double extra-large suit, with its lightweight, smooth fabric fit him well. Thank goodness the company made several different sizes. He was never a one–size–fits–all kind of guy.

I need to calibrate the bio-computer to the suit’s signal. Santiago pressed a few buttons and the computer beeped to life. Heartbeat, blood pressure. I must confirm today’s readings with your benchmark from a month ago.

Hank allowed the woman’s words to fade into the background as he sat straighter on the stool and craned his neck to see the work of the rest of the team. James, Aaron, and Caleb unpacked six Temporal Containment Units (TCU) and placed them around the room encircling the team and the equipment. They struggled with the sheer bulkiness of the units. Hank wanted to help, but sitting with the doctor proved to be his most important task.

I thought we would use all nine units. Caleb pressed a side button of the TCUs nearest him while James turned on another one. A beam of light flashed from one to the other.

According to maintenance, three of them showed up as faulty. Aaron turned his on. Six is plenty. Everything—person and computer—within this lopsided hexagon area will remain unphased by any temporal disturbances. He gestured with his hands to the area of the room the TCUs encircled. The area included the life buoy, the computer equipment, the decontamination unit, and all team members.

The small containment field created by the TCUs explained why the team needed to be small. Everyone had to remain within this tiny space. They alone would remember the actual, original history if anything went wrong. They would remember as long as they remained within the space contained by the TCUs. One step outside the area and they'd be lost to the new history.

Sit still, Santiago ordered, bringing Hank back to the physical checkup. The time suit readings show you’re a bit dehydrated and have lost two pounds since your physical benchmark. The deviation is within the norm.

Hank let out a sigh. He had had nothing to eat or drink while going through security, and breakfast had been a while ago. Could the computer also tell his bladder was nearly full?

He studied the silver suit he wore with its checkered thin wires woven into the fabric. Yes. The computer probably could.

No electrodes were taped to his chest, and no visible thermometers scanned his skin. Filaments lined the time suit and provided just over two days of Green Energy, powering the entire suit and diagnostic equipment.

I know you read the schematics about this timesuit, but let me explain everything to you. Santiago set down the earbud and faced him. She then pointed to a bracelet on the table. This is the GECU.

He glared at the bracelet, knowing precisely what it was. It was the Green Energy Containment Unit, which housed the computer and the Green Energy. His late wife, Kathy, had worked with the team. Her death nearly a year ago was caused by a faulty GECU which accidentally released the Green Energy in one burst, and the bracelet exploded in her hands.

Santiago explained, Green Energy is enclosed in the heavier of the two pieces. This energy powers the suit through a series of filaments running throughout the suit’s fabric. She pulled up the cuff of one of the suit’s sleeves. These wires will monitor your life signs, regulate your body temperature, return you to the present time, everything. They are like the central nervous system for this suit.

She pointed to the second half of the GECU bracelet. This smaller piece is like the brains. It is the computer that contains the time for your retrieval. It can also understand what you say when you talk into the ear bud. You can search databases, translate spoken or written words, save new timelines, compare two timelines, count lines of change, or whatever you may need. She pointed to the ear bud on the table. You’ll wear this in your ear to communicate to the computer.

She then reached over and grabbed a pair of glasses. When you click the button on the right brim, it records for five minutes and only records one video. So, if you use it more than once, only the last recorded video is saved.

Just one video. Got it.

Most of the time, you’ll be using the tasklet, though.

He glanced at the glasses. The ones in the simulator had a more modern frame. That’s the tasklet?

Visual filters as well as a projector. If you have the computer’s audio off, you can view the information the computer is showing you by issuing the command ‘show.’ To have the information projected so others can see it, use the command ‘display.’

Show or display. Understood.

The show command will have the glasses project charts, words, or any other information about two feet in front of your face so only you can see. She held her hand out at arm’s length and indicated the distance. The projected images are being displayed through the tasklet. It is a projection device found within the glasses.

Santiago took a pin and reset the ear bud for a new user by sliding a small button. She then turned Hank’s head and placed the tiny device in his left ear. This hearing device will connect you to your suit’s computer, picking up your voice from your jawbone vibrations. Is the piece comfortable?

Yes.

Hank put on the thin metal framed glasses—typical of the time period. The ear bud rested deeply within his ear, quite a snug fit so it wouldn't be easily seen.

Santiago concentrated on the computer monitor. Whisper something.

What?

Whisper.

Okay. Is this good? he whispered in a soft voice.

You don’t need to speak so loudly. This device is sensitive. Your jaw movements alone will register with the computer. She fiddled with the instrument for a second and then announced, It’s good. Now ask the computer a simple question.

Hank mouthed the question, What’s two plus two, his voice merely a hint of a whisper.

Recalibrating for new user. The answer is four, sounded from his ear bud.

Hank jumped in his seat, not because the computer had answered him, but because the computer’s voice was that of his late wife, Kathy. She would have been the team lead for this project instead of Caleb, but the fatal accident a year ago took her life. He hadn’t heard her voice in so long and had forgotten she had volunteered to be audio for the device.

His jaw tightened, and he assumed his face paled. Audio off, he commanded. He didn’t want to appear vulnerable to Santiago or anyone. The pity he had experienced around the office after Kathy’s death had only recently stopped. I’d rather read information from the images displayed in the tasklet.

The commands on and off will work for the audio. She focused her attention on her computer screen, and Hank noticed the 7NR2 vial nearby, certain the poison would not be needed.

Your temperature is normal. Have you experienced any aches, pains, or nausea in the last twenty–four hours?

I’m all right, he answered, still trying to recover from having heard Kathy’s voice.

Santiago’s eyes met his. Fine is not an answer.

Hank studied her face. Her pinched expression and a thin sheen of sweat on her brow told him she was nervous. No aches, pains, or nausea, he answered.

When she let out a sigh, he added, Relax. I’m the one going back if anything goes wrong.

Yes. And I’m the one injecting you with the 7NR2 poison that will kill you in two days if you fail. We can't have you traipsing around history making more of a mess, and I have to ensure you receive the exact dosage.

He understood full well what the 7NR2 was for. The HPA protocol on time travel was explicit about traveling through time being a one–way trip if you became trapped in the past. Do you think it will come to that?

Before she could answer, Caleb announced they were ready to thread the camera into the life buoy.

2

Chapter Two

July 2192

The computer equipment crowded the area near the windows, so the team stood shoulder–to–shoulder around the life buoy. Hank heard James take a deep breath, and from the corner of his eye, he noticed Santiago biting her lower lip as tension filled the air. Aaron was so nervous that he held a small computer pad and checked the last-minute status, pressing buttons and sweating profusely.

Caleb picked up the box containing the recorder. He tore the protective, airtight sleeve holding the unit securely in its box. He then held the container up to a metal bangle on his wrist. Removing the hair–like recorder from the box is step one. This feeder then extracts the strand without any tangling.

Stroking the bangle across the now–opened box, the recorder snaked up a small opening.

At no point can this recorder be twisted, torn, or tangled. The device will not work unless it remains straight and undamaged. Caleb took a deep breath as he stepped closer to the life buoy. Computer, display a one–minute index and countdown on my mark.

Hank glanced at the air above the life buoy which now showed a stopwatch display.

Caleb stared at the virtual watch and then stroked his wrist across the table's wood grain. A slight glint of light reflected off