The Cantor Dimension (25 page)

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Authors: Sharon Delarose

BOOK: The Cantor Dimension
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"Could be," Max agreed, but he doubted it. A man doesn't travel decades back in time just to prevent someone from moving somewhere. There had to be more to it. Max would probably never know Jerome's reasons but the future was set on its correct course. Max had prevented Jerome from tampering with history. He shuddered, thinking of the implications. He asked Luke if he could take the compass and ring that Jerome was carrying. Luke didn't hesitate, considering it a gift for saving Alice and Ann.

Max and Luke buried Jerome's body far out in the woods. Alice had awakened and the three of them sat talking over tea. Alice explained how she'd caught Jerome in the bedroom trying to steal some money from the drawer. He was talking nonsense about needing the money to take Emily away somewhere safe.

"We're mighty grateful to you, Max. Mighty grateful." Luke seemed unconcerned over the tears that spilled unchecked down his sun-bronzed cheeks.

Alice smiled shyly, her hands resting on her stomach. "Baby Ann is kicking!" she exclaimed. Both men grinned. Alice looked at Luke and he nodded. "Luke and I were wondering if you'd stay for a few days."

Max was glad he'd taken all those trips to prepare Brody for an event such as this. He could've been killed! Brody would be angry if he knew that most of Max's secret trips really were just business trips to research his articles, and that he really was a writer. Very few of the "trips" he had taken were connected to the Cantor papers. Max looked from Luke to Alice, back to Luke.

"Sure!" he beamed. "I'd love to!"

Table of Contents

Rochester, New York

Ellen glanced at her watch, irritated. She'd been standing for several minutes in front of the window. Snowflakes floated gently past the window covering the ground in a smooth, white blanket. Soft halos surrounded the streetlights in the parking lot.

She searched for signs of Pat's car down below. You couldn't mistake Pat's old Volkswagen bug. It had originally been a dark green but over the years several body sections had been replaced turning it into a patchwork of red, yellow, orange and green. Pat's little toy car stood out like a blazing beacon of color at the end of one white row.

"Thank God," Ellen thought. She and Pat were due at a wedding reception in an hour and a half. They were supposed to meet Jimmy and Greg at Jimmy's house in Gates, which was on the way to the reception. The party was in Churchville which was a good hour's drive from Ellen's. Pat had promised to be on time. She had a habit of being late.

A knock at the door interrupted her sojourn at the window. She ran to the door and opened it. "Pat!" she said, relieved. "Where have you been?"

"Oh God, Ellen, I am so sorry! I had to go by my grandparent's house and drop off Grandpa's heart pills. He ran out yesterday and didn't tell anyone and Gram's sick with the flu. I called to check on them and that's when he told me that he needed his refills. I had to go to the drugstore and get them. God, that place was packed! Eighty million people buying wrapping paper and cards and doing their Christmas shopping in a friggin' drugstore," she snorted.

"I didn't know your grandfather Phillips had a heart condition."

"No, not Grandpa Phillips... Grandpa Starnes. You met them a couple of times, I think. Billy and Emily Starnes from Illinois. Her family never forgave Gramps for taking her away and moving her up here to Rochester but there wasn't much they could do about it. Grams was a stubborn one and she'd set her sights on Gramps. She was the apple of their eye so they had to give in. She threatened to run away and follow him to New York if they didn't!"

"You never told me all that!"

"Shit! It gets better! Or worse, I should say. After they moved here Emily was in a bad car accident that left her with a limp for life. She also lost her sight in one eye."

"Wow, that's horrible!" Ellen exclaimed.

Pat continued, "Anyway, Emily's cousin Jerome swore he'd make Gramps pay for bringing Emily here where she got hurt so bad, then Jerome disappeared without a trace. Imagine, someone wanting revenge against Grandpa for something that happened a half a century ago! And it wasn't even Grandpa's fault. I hope that Jerome guy doesn't come around again. I'm kinda worried about Gramps."

"Well, he was probably just blowing off steam. I doubt he'll be back."

"I hope so, Ellen. Are you ready to go? We've got to get to Greg and Jimmy's house. We're late already and they're going to be mad as jilted bulls!"

"Yes, I'm ready. Let's go!"

Table of Contents

Utica, Illinois

Eric was bent over his truck trying to readjust the carburetor. "This blasted pin keeps sticking," he muttered under his breath. An engine screamed in the distance. Eric grinned and wiped his hands on an oily rag. He always knew when Mark was coming. Mark usually ran his '67 Mustang at top speed and most folks called him a gearhead. Eric closed the hood and cut the engine. Mark arrived with a squeal of brakes to find Eric sitting on the hood of his truck.

"Hey Eric, whatcha doin'?" Mark yelled out the window of the Hot Bod, the name he'd affectionately given his Mustang. You had to holler when the Hot Bod was around. Mark didn't believe in mufflers.

"Cut your engine and come find out!" Eric hollered back. Mark cut the engine and he and a healthy looking blonde got out. Eric whistled appreciatively, eyeing her up and down in an exaggerated manner meant as a joke.

"Eric, meet Debbie," Mark grinned.

"Well helloooo, Debbie! Where'd you come from?"

Mark laughed. "She comes from the Darnell farm."

"Darnell? Aren't you the girl that city boy's chasing after? What was his name?"

"Cromwell," Debbie grinned.

"Yeah, Cromwell. So what happened to this Cromwell dude? I heard you guys were an item."

"We were. The damn cops split us up. His daddy's on the force up in Joliet and the police don't like us Darnell's ever since Grandpa and Billy Starnes got into it fifty years ago. Son of a bitches," Debbie spat.

"Gee, I don't know, Deb," Mark interjected, "seems like they did me a hell of a favor!"

"I wish somebody'd do ME a favor like that!" Eric laughed.

"Hang out with me and I'll teach you the ropes," Mark offered. Eric punched Mark affectionately in the arm and they all laughed. Suddenly, a spectacular light show played across the sky. Seconds later, it had ended.

"Wow, that was incredible!" Debbie said, face illuminated as if a wondrous vision had manifested itself.

"Weird!" Mark whistled. "Maybe your friends are finally coming to get you," he teased.

Eric laughed. "You better be careful, Mark. If you're with me when they come, they'll probably get you, too!"

"That's not funny guys. Something special just happened up there. Be serious."

"Serious?" Eric asked. "I'm always serious. Ask me anything about UFOs. They've been visiting earth for thousands of years and for your information, weird lights in the sky have always been associated with UFO sightings, as in the case of
Our Lady of Fatima
on October 13, 1917. Seventy thousand people witnessed that event and while few people know of the UFO connection, believing that the incident was purely a religious one, the UFO connection does exist as detailed by researcher Jacques Vallee."

Mark grimaced. "Okay Eric, enough already! Can't we just lay back and enjoy the show? Do we have to analyze it to death?"

Debbie's eyes showed a keen interest, not only in the information but in the man behind the information. Imperceptibly she moved closer to Eric. "Is all this true, what you're saying? You've really studied up on UFOs?"

"Yes, I have. I believe in them 100%."

"Maybe we could get together and share notes sometime."

"You've studied them, too?"

Debbie smiled softly. "Yes, I've studied them, too."

Suddenly, Mark Boeing felt like the odd man out. He countered with a feeble joke. "I guess I don't need to teach you the ropes after all, huh buddy?"

Eric turned to Mark, sensing his friend's discomfort. He playfully punched Mark in the arm hoping to recapture the earlier camaraderie. "Hey, let's go for a ride in the Hot Bod!" he suggested, instantly realizing his error.

A feeling of sadness settled over the two friends as they realized that their worlds had shifted, previous relationships passing away with the dawn of a new day. Three pairs of eyes gazed poignantly into the heavens wondering how something as abstract as a heavenly light show could alter their lives forever.

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Max

"Max!" Brody embraced his friend. "You're back! Thank God! You wouldn't believe what's been going on around here... oh no, Max, you've got to get out of here! Quick, before the police find you!"

Max laughed. "Brody, slow down! Take it easy. I haven't broken any laws."

"They think you robbed the First National Bank in St. Charles, Missouri!"

Max gestured for Brody to sit down. "Brody, I didn't rob any bank. In fact, I saved a woman's life. And I made the most incredible discovery!"

Brody was too agitated to sit. He paced the room for a moment then stopped, looking at Max. "But
they
believe you robbed that bank. They've got proof and they're watching your apartment. Oh God!" Brody exclaimed. "I think they're watching mine, too! They'll know you're here. You better get out, fast!"

"What kind of proof?"

"Blueprints!"

Max shook his head. "Brody, it's possible that the bank robbery never even happened and even if it did, I could make those blueprints disappear, or make it so they never found them. It's pretty complicated and I'll explain it all to you later... what I've been doing for all these months. But there's one thing I can tell you... if there was a bank robbery and they find a way to pin it on me, it's no big deal. There's absolutely nothing they can do to me, Brody, that I can't undo. I could even make it so that the real robbers get caught before they can even get into the bank!"

Brody sat down. "So it's really true, this time travel stuff?"

"Yes it is!" Max jumped up, excited. "I can open up a wormhole to any place and any time! I can go back to a week ago or even a hundred years ago. I can go anyplace in the world! They can't touch me, Brody." Max smiled, rubbing what he called his
magic compass
.

Brody was awed, his eyes growing wide. "Are you really related to those big men? Cantor? Halley? Is that really the compass made by Edmond Halley in the 1600s?"

Max laughed. "Yes, yes, and yes!"

"Wow! And here I thought you were just a tech-head with weird fascinations!" Brody laughed.

"The compass wasn't the only thing I inherited from Edmond Halley." Max smiled. "I inherited some letters that he and Isaac Newton wrote to each other about a buried treasure in England. Newton had been researching the exact location and he drew up three treasure maps where he thought the treasure might be buried. Apparently Halley had to do some serious calculations because the treasure was buried according to the stars rather than a tree or rock like most treasures."

"Treasure maps? Seriously? From Isaac Newton?"

"Yes, my friend... treasures maps! There's a county in England called the Hundred of Hoo that borders the ocean, and not far from the shore is an ancient place called Hoo All Hallows... I own a cottage not far from there called Urania Cottage where we can stay. I don't know if I can bring anybody with me when I take a time-trip but maybe if you're touching me when I go, you'll tag along. Wanna try it?" Max grinned, ready to take his best friend on an adventure.

Brody lit up. "Sure! I am soooo ready! I totally need a vacation. Let's get the heck out of here! Let's go digging for buried treasure!"

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Epilogue

William Scott Baker had just been released from prison. "I'm gonna be rich!" he sang, dancing around his shabby apartment. His cell-mate had been Gary Vandeberg, great-great-great-grandson of the infamous Vandeberg moonshiners. Scott couldn't remember how many "greats" there were in between Gary and his moonshining ancestors but it didn't really matter.

What mattered was that Gary knew about some underground tunnels that lead into and out of the cellar of the First National Bank. His family had known about the tunnels for generations but except for Gary and the original moonshiners, none of the Vandebergs had criminal tendencies.

Gary had bragged to Scott about those tunnels and how he intended to hit the bank as soon as he got out. They had even formed a partnership in the event they were released at the same time, planning the derring-do together, but Scott had gotten out first, full of Gary's knowledge about the tunnels.

They had an ingenious plan to launder the money through a series of transactions with people they referred to as "goats" such as Edward Coggins. They chose people who they knew preferred cash transactions. Scott hired Coggins to install a state-of-the-art security system which included equipment that could easily be resold for top dollar. Coggins got the dirty money and Scott got equipment which he immediately resold for clean money. Coggins, like the other goats, was clueless. Had he not been Max's friend he never would have been on the radar of the police.

"I'm gonna be rich by you, just you, and nobody else but you!" Scott sang in falsetto, imitating Marilyn Monroe.

His voice died out as his father, William Jerome Baker, was shot somewhere back in time before Scott's birth.

Table of Contents

Afterword

The murder of Edmond Halley the soap-boiler:
The tale of Edmond Halley's murder is a true story and his murder was never solved. The Rye House Plot was a solid contender, as was the suicide. While Joane Halley was also a suspect, nobody at that time strung together the many marriages that I found in the public records. All of the Joanes were real people but the notion that they were one in the same was purely hypothetical. Mary Carleton, the bigamist who got away with it, was also a true account.

The soap-boiler wars were true as well but I never found a mention of the soap-boiler wars as being connected to Halley's murder. That also, was my own hypothesis. All of the William Bakers in England were found in the public records, including their crimes, but any connection to each other, or Halley, was purely fictional. The William Bakers in the United States were fully fictional in every respect.

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