Welcome To Quantum Holidays

CHAPTER 11: FROM THE SHORES OF THE NEW WORLD

On the walls of Stanley Mandeville's office, a special mural had been painted. Full of history and color, it was his Sistine Chapel. Although the mural depicted vast landscapes unchained from time and place, it actually made the office seem a lot smaller than it was.

The painting ran clockwise and stretched across the four walls of the square office. The mural began with the restless blue waters of the Atlantic Ocean. The waves crashed onto the shore of San Salvador. Anchored there were the Nina, the Pinta, and the Santa Maria. On the beach, raising the flag of the crown of Castile stood the lofty Christopher Columbus and his band of explorers. The brown natives cowered between the trunks of trees and some bowed before the Italian. The shore of the Bahamas archipelago grew into the barren airfield at Kill Devil Hills. There, Orville Wright ran behind his older brother Wilbur as he lifted the Flyer I from the surface of the earth. The airfield slowly transformed into the desert wasteland of Socorro. Oppenheimer's mushroom cloud expanded rapidly into the heavens and the Atomic Age was born.

The second wall was divided by the large double doors of the office. Stood either side of the door frame with their backs to each other were the two bickering fathers of electricity, Thomas Edison and Nikola Tesla. They brooded deeply as the violet electricity from the magnifying transmitter lashed about them.

On the third wall, Galileo sat by his telescope revealing the stars to his contemporaries. The mural stretched far our from the Venetian balcony, out beyond earth's atmosphere into space. There on the pale rock surface of the moon, Neil Armstrong hopped tentatively and planted the star spangled banner.

And finally, painted on the fourth wall there was Stanley Mandeville himself. He was laid in his time machine with his eyes closed and his arms crossed over his chest. It was undoubtedly him, but when Mandeville looked at the mural he did not recognize himself in it. It was not that it was inaccurate, but it had a quality that made the man a stranger to him. He did not look old and nor did he look young. Like an angel in a stained glass window of a church, he was ageless.

Away from his desk, Mandeville sat on his leather sofa. He held a glass tumbler loosely in his hand. There was a knock at the door. Frank Solomon entered.

Mandeville greeted his head of security with a tired, but warm smile.

"Good evening, Frank. Care for a drink?"

There was a stern expression on Solomon's face.

"No, thank you, sir."

Mandeville recognized that look. He sat up straight and put down his tumbler on the table.

"What's wrong?"

"There's been an incident in Warsaw."

Mandeville gestured for Solomon to sit across from him.

"Tell me, Frank."

Solomon clasped his hands together and looked Mandeville squarely in the eye.

"It's Michel, sir. He's been murdered."

Mandeville's expression froze. Solomon hesitated before continuing.

"The Polish police found him in his hotel room this morning."

Dekker waited for Mandeville to speak. When he didn't, Dekker went on.

"Sir, it appears that Michel was tortured before he was killed. We need to work under the assumption that Michel has compromised Quantum Holidays."

Mandeville shook his head dismissively.

"He would never do that."

"Sir, based on what they did to him, I can't see how he could not talk. I've seen the toughest solider crack under less."

"What exactly did they do to him, Frank?"

"I think it would better if you did not know the particulars, sir."

Mandeville became irritated and raised his voice.

"Frank, what did they do to him?"

"Sir, I don't think-"

"Frank!" interrupted Mandeville.

Mandeville calmed himself down and added, "Please, Frank. I need to know."

"If you insist, sir."

Frank took a folder he had been holding and passed it to Mandeville. As Mandeville looked at the photos, he raised his hand over his mouth. Frank spoke as he went through the folder.

"We have to work under the assumption that he talked. I recommend we halt all operations immediately. Let me send out our investigative teams to Warsaw to find out what happened. Only once we are in control of the situation should we resume operations."

Mandeville's mind seemed to be elsewhere. Dekker waited patiently for his response. Eventually, he responded.

"Has there been anything in the media?"

"Not yet, sir. It seems that if Michel's killers discovered anything then they have not shared their information. Not yet anyway."

"So what does that mean? Do you think they could try to blackmail us perhaps?

"In the past we have had to deal with blackmailers and extortionists. They may still try to sell the information, but if there were any bidding wars we would have heard about it by now. But the truth is that we don't know anything about these people, which is why we must protect ourselves. Close the facility and let me investigate the murder, sir."

"Frank, I can't. Every day the facility stays closed we lose over fifty million dollars. And how could I explain the closure? People would start asking questions. I respect your judgment, Frank, but you are here to focus on security issues. I have to look at the wider picture. You can call in all reserve security personnel and I'll authorize unlimited overtime. At least until we know more about Michel's murder. But I can't give you any more than that, Frank."

Mandeville motioned with his hands to say that was his final decision and Dekker had learned over the years when not to argue with him. Mandeville got up and went to the drinks cabinet and poured himself another brandy. He returned to the sofa and sat down. Dekker spoke again.

"Sir, there is also the matter of how we deal with the public fallout of Michel's murder."

"Has anyone reported it yet?"

"Not yet. We bought some time, but we are expecting the story to break in the next couple of hours."

"How do you suggest we handle it?

"Well, Michel was a known user of substances. I believe we will be able to bury the coroner's report and buy off the officials to present the death as an accidental overdose."

"I feel uncomfortable portraying Michel as some sort of junkie. He was a victim. He died for this company."

"Sir, the issue is that if it comes to light that Michel was murdered it will leave us exposed. Some government agencies could use a murder investigation as a front for just cause to search the facility."

Mandeville placed his drink on the table. He rested his elbows on his knees and clutched at his hair with his hands. He swayed backward and forward slightly. Eventually, he released his hair and looked up at Dekker.

"Okay, Frank. Do what you have to do."

Dekker nodded and rose to his feet. He opened the door but before he left he turned to Mandeville. The Father of Time Travel was holding his glass with two hands, staring into his brandy as if he was hypnotized.

"Sir, I'm sorry about Michel. I know he meant a lot to you."

"Yes, he did. Thank you, Frank."