“Nor do I, Rick. Nor do I.”
“As a naval officer, Father, how much do you think these issues will affect our mission, whatever that may be?”
“All I can say, my friend, is that the mission can’t be too long.” He then asked, “When you meet with Lincoln, can you tell him about this growing problem?”
“I will. I have to.”
Chapter 35
Ashley buzzed Jack’s number. She worried about the crew’s growing morale problem and wanted an update on Jack’s plans for locating the worm hole for the trip back to 2013. It would also be nice just to see Jack.
“Lt. Thurber, please come to my office.”
Jack appeared in the Captain’s office within two minutes. “Yes, Captain?”
“I’m concerned about the crew, Jack. Are we telling them enough?”
“Is there a problem, if I may ask?” said Jack. Ashley told Jack about Father Rick’s experience in the crew’s mess, how morale was starting to get dicey because people didn’t have a sense of their future.
“I may have something that will make things better, or at least make people feel better. I’m working on a spreadsheet to map the incidents of time away versus elapsed time in the present. It’s trickier than it sounds because I never dug too deeply into that issue in my book. But I do have all of my interview notes, so I should have something for you by tomorrow.”
“When I’m done with this spreadsheet, Captain, I think we’ll have some good news for the crew. Today is April 17. We’ve been in the past for seven days. What the crew will be happy to know is that we’ve been gone for only a few minutes, maybe hours, in 2013 time. It’s impossible to calculate exactly because we’ll only know how long we’ve been gone in retrospect. Remember the guy from World War I. He was gone for eight months in the past but only five minutes in the present.”
“Thank God you’re aboard, Jack,” Ashley said as she looked into his eyes.
He held her gaze and said, in a soft voice, “I thank God I am, too.”
Chapter 36
President Lincoln told Navy Secretary Wells to arrange a meeting with the Captain of the California. He also wanted Secretary of State Seward and Secretary of War Cameron to be at the meeting. Commander Campbell would be there also.
Wells loved his new toy, the two-way radio. “Lima Juliette, Lima Juliette, this is Alpha Foxtrot, over.”
“Alpha Foxtrot, this is Lima Juliette, go ahead,” said the Officer of the Deck.
“May I please speak to the Captain,” said Wells. Ashley was on the bridge at the time and the OOD handed her the radio, telling her that Secretary Wells was on the radio.
“This is Captain Patterson. Good morning, Mr. Secretary.”
“President Lincoln would like to meet with you and Commander Campbell at 11:30 this morning,” said Wells.
“We shall be there, Sir.”
She imagined coming home to her late husband Felix. “How was your day, Hon?” Felix would ask. “Oh, let’s see,” Ashley imagined saying, “Got up early, showered, had breakfast and met with Abraham Lincoln. Just a routine day.”
The California was still anchored in Chesapeake Bay. At 0900 two sailors swung the boat davits over the side of the ship and secured cables to the bow and stern of the motor launch. One of them hit a toggle switch, lowering the boat to the water. The day was mild, with a bright sun and temperatures in the lower 60s. As Ashley stepped onto the ladder, the boatswain’s pipe sounded throughout the ship, followed by the announcement, “California, departing.”
Ashley and Campbell were wearing their service dress blue uniforms. Ashley felt it was no longer necessary to disguise themselves in period civilian dress.
They looked at each other. They didn’t speak. They knew they were about to make history, or maybe even change it.
The launch motored its way along the Potomac, drawing stares from anyone ashore or on nearby boats. Petty Officer Donizzio, the boat’s captain, felt like a hero in a yacht club showing off his new boat. Donizzio eased the boat next to the pier, its twin diesel engines growling as he put it in reverse to stop the boat’s forward motion.
A carriage awaited them. The driver opened the door and Ashley and Campbell climbed in. As their carriage rumbled up the cobblestone path to the White House entrance, Ashley glanced toward an area where the West Wing would eventually be, and noticed that the Rose Garden wasn’t there yet either. She said, “I’ve been to the White House a few times. It looks much better in 2013.”
Although she didn’t like small talk, she would do anything, short of reciting nursery rhymes, to calm her growling stomach. An aide ran to open the carriage door for them. As Ashley stepped down her foot caught on a rung and she fell forward. The aide grabbed her arm and kept her from falling face first onto the cobblestones. Calm down, she said to herself.
Ashley and Campbell were escorted to the President’s office, which was rectangular, not oval. An aide opened the door and motioned for them to enter. The thought crossed Ashley’s mind that the superintendant’s office at Annapolis was more opulent. Lincoln stood behind his desk with Wells and Seward to the right and War Secretary Cameron to the left. All eyes were on Ashley.
Wells had purposely avoided telling Lincoln that Captain Ashley Patterson was a woman. Ashley is a common name for a man. He also neglected to tell him that she was colored. He wanted his President to have the wonderful shock that he had experienced a few days ago.
Ashley had an urge to take out her smart phone and snap a picture of the expression on the men’s faces. If a dancing unicorn had galloped in instead of Ashley, their faces couldn’t have been more shocked. Obviously, Wells kept my identity a secret, Ashley thought.
Navy Secretary Wells said, “Mr. President, Secretary Seward, Secretary Cameron, it is my honor to introduce Captain Ashley Patterson, Commanding Officer of the USS California. And this gentleman is Commander Ivan Campbell, the ship’s navigator.”
Ashley and Campbell snapped sharp salutes. Ashley then offered her hand to the President, something a lady of the 1800s did not do. Lincoln, a man accustomed to taking charge of situations, was dumbfounded. He wasn’t sure if he should shake her hand or kiss it. He did both.
“Madam Captain,” Lincoln said, “I must say that I’m surprised that you’re not only a woman, but a colored woman.” Ashley felt calmer, the ice broken. She also marveled at Lincoln’s voice. Thinking of the great marble statue in the Lincoln Memorial, she expected to hear a voice like rolling thunder or like Charlton Heston in The Ten Commandments. Instead, the President’s voice was slightly high pitched, and his manner of speaking almost soft in tone.
She smiled and said, “In the good old twenty-first-century, Mr. President, we are known as black or African American.” She then told the men about Colin Powell, Condoleezza Rice, and Barack Obama, the nation’s first black President.
Wells beamed. He saw that his friend Abe Lincoln, a man who shared his abolitionist views, was as pleased as he had been to see what human progress can mean.
“We’ve received a thorough report,” Lincoln said, “thanks to Secretary Wells and the written document that Commander Campbell provided us.” Lincoln drew a deep breath. “Once we accepted the incredible fact that you have travelled here through time, and that you are able to tell us what will happen in the next four years, we all came to the same conclusion. We must terminate this horrible war as quickly as possible. I shall not abide the prediction that the war will bring 620,000 casualties. As God is my witness, may He smite me dead if I don’t do everything in my power to halt the slaughter.”