More Stories from the Twilight Zone (5 page)

“I've already acknowledged the importance of those two events,” Endicott said defensively. “I don't see why—”

“Let me finish. The raid's psychological effects could easily have worked
against
us. Of far greater importance was the decision to use musicians as code-breakers. Eliminate that one factor, and you have created a disaster of catastrophic proportions.

“The Japanese, still assuming such large bombers had to have come from the nearest U.S. land base, the island of Midway, would have invaded it without our even knowing they were coming. Midway then would have become the launching pad for further intrusions on American soil—namely, the seizure of Hawaii, and in all likelihood a full-scale occupation of Alaska.

“All we had to stop them with were a few carriers that lacked effective cruiser and destroyer screens. Many of our destroyers dated back to World War One. Our heavy cruisers were notoriously thin-skinned. Our carriers were damned good, but would have been destroyed one by one, before we could finish building new and better warships of every category.

“No, Midway was far more than just a turning point. It was the difference between winning or losing the whole damned war—not just the Pacific conflict, but the war against Nazi Germany. I apologize for cutting into everyone's lunchtime, so maybe I'd better let you all go.”

Much to his surprise, he heard audible murmurs of “Keep going” and Endicott, too, was nodding agreement.

The gravelly voice resumed its path over invisible pebbles. “I shall be as brief as possible, knowing that young stomachs may demand a higher priority than young minds. But I feel it essential that you hear a more realistic ‘what if?' hypothesis than Dr. Endicott has postulated.

“I fear he is terribly wrong in assuming that defeating Japan merely would have taken somewhat longer if Midway had been lost. On the contrary, it eventually would have led to a humiliating peace based in considerable part on Japanese-dictated terms. You must remember that a
world
war began in 1939. A war the free world easily might have lost. I am convinced that our triumph at Midway prevented that from happening.

“Why? Because if we had lost that battle, we would not have been sending lend-lease aid to Britain and the Soviet Union. All of our production efforts, not only by necessity but by the force of public opinion, would have been utilized against a Japanese juggernaut running wild. In such a climate, Congress never would have passed a lend-lease bill.

“Let me remind you of the America First Committee, a prewar organization opposed to any involvement in a European conflict. It had considerable public support at the time, and would have been even more influential in the aftermath of a Midway defeat. So the American people very likely would have swallowed the bitter pill of leaving Russia and even Britain to shift for themselves.

“It is even very possible there would have been no Manhattan
Project, no war-ending atomic bomb attacks on the Japanese homeland, because our strategy would have been almost entirely defensive, with little or no emphasis on something as theoretical as nuclear weaponry. The United Nations wouldn't have existed. Ditto a free, independent Jewish state.

“I submit that these possibilities really should be categorized as probabilities. Because we would have been a discouraged, disillusioned nation fed up with FDR; a people with no stomach for getting involved in another European war. Yes, Germany already had declared war on us right after Pearl Harbor. To use a boxing term, however, we very likely would have been willing to settle for a draw in the Pacific while quite logically figuring that Germany wasn't a real threat to invade the United States. Even crossing the English Channel to invade England posed a formidable task.

“So a face-saving peace treaty with Japan would have been acceptable while taking a chance that the Soviet Union would either defeat Germany, or weaken it to the point where even the victors were tired of war.

“Roosevelt almost certainly would have never won a third term and Republican isolationists would have dominated Congress and the White House. How does ‘President Robert A. Taft' sound to you?

“Without our help, Britain would have surrendered, despite Churchill's eloquence, and might have been occupied by an invading Nazi army after an exhausted Royal Air Force finally lost control of the air over the British Isles. So England never could have served as a kind of unsinkable aircraft carrier.

“There would have been no Normandy invasion, no strategic air war against Germany, and Dwight Eisenhower would have been just another army officer who never would have become president.

“These are more than hypothetical suppositions. They are based on logic and what we already know about World War Two. A war
in which our becoming the arsenal of democracy was pivotal. There would have been no such arsenal, because we would have been totally committed just to saving ourselves.

“I greatly admire Dr. Endicott as a historian, but I felt you should at least consider Midway's
true
significance.”

He sat down, not really hearing the applause, conscious that he probably had lost Joshua's friendship. Endicott, however, graciously thanked him for his “stimulating words” and conceded that “Dr. Petibone's ideas deserve serious thought.” As the lecture hall emptied, Endicott approached his two colleagues, shaking his head mockingly at Petibone.

“You rascal, why did you wait until today to undress me in front of my own students? You've heard the same lecture three times before.”

Petibone smiled wryly. “Josh, the cockamamie answer you gave that kid just pissed me off. I've never before heard you dismiss Midway's long-range importance to that extent.”

“I didn't dismiss it. I've always stressed its significance. But my comments are based on what
actually
happened, not on what
might
have happened.”

Petibone stared at him, so long that Redmond put a hand on his shoulder, with a squeeze that urged caution. He was too late.

“So were mine,” Petibone said quietly.

 

“What in the hell is
that
supposed to mean?” Endicott demanded.

“Exactly what I intended it to mean. I know what
really
happened at Midway. There was no miraculous victory.”

He paused, knowing he was about to drop an extremely heavy anvil on Joshua Endicott's complacency.

“Josh, do I have your solemn promise that what I'm about to tell you will never be repeated to another human being—not even to your wife?”

“Of course.”

“Good, although I doubt very much if you'll believe me anyway.”

He took a deep breath, as though he were taking on the fuel he needed to propel the next words out of his mouth.

“I swear to God, I've gone back to 1942 in a time machine I designed and built myself. And if you don't believe me, ask Gerry because he went with me. Back to Pearl Harbor as it was less than four months after the attack, and about a month before the Doolittle raid. Gerry, tell him this is no joke.”

Redmond nodded. “He's telling the truth, Josh. That contraption of his really works . . . although I'd never recommend time travel as a pleasure trip. It does something to a few basic senses like smell and appetite, plus sense of balance. It seems to raise hell with metabolism in general. When we returned to the present, we were terribly dizzy for almost a week, and we couldn't even look at food.”

Endicott gave them a look that ran the gamut from amusement to utter disbelief.

“Okay,” he said, “I know you're both pulling my leg right out of its socket. But for the sake of argument, Gerry, what was a professor of music doing on this H. G. Wells expedition?”

Petibone answered him. “It was Gerry's idea to enlist help from the
California
's band. He had written his doctorate dissertation on the theory that musical notes seemed to resemble the cipher codes used by the military.”

Endicott shook his head scornfully. “Baloney. That theory surfaced as early as 1939.”

“Correct, but Gerry was the first to think of applying the theory to the naval code the Nips were using in the early forties, stuff we were picking up on shortwave radio with no idea of what it meant.

“So when we went back to forty-two, I passed Gerry off to naval authorities at Pearl Harbor as a cipher code expert, while I
already had my current FBI security clearance as a consultant on rocket weaponry. I put a 1939 date on Gerry's much later dissertation and showed it to the Navy brass. They were impressed and desperate enough to let him use that collection of stranded ship's musicians to prove the theory would work on Japan's naval code.

“With help from some Japanese-speaking linguists and Gerry's expertise, they broke the code, the Midway invasion force was ambushed, and we shortened the war by at least two years while saving Britain in the process, not to mention Mr. Stalin's ass, with lend-lease aid. By that look on your face, I gather you don't believe us.”

“No, I don't!” Endicott snapped. “You're telling me the two of you changed history. And I'm telling you such a thing is impossible. Answer one more question, Alan. Why did you decide it was necessary to tamper with real history?”

“Because that supposedly theoretical scenario I gave your class wasn't theory. When we left the present in my machine, the world was not what it is today. If you think things are bad now, they were a hell of a lot worse when we decided to do something about it.

“Listen well, Josh. This is how things
really
were in 1987, the year after I finished building and testing the time machine, and when Gerry and I decided to use Midway as the pivotal event that
had
to be altered.

“Britain, which the Nazis occupied for more than a decade, had become three separate nations—England, Ireland and Scotland—and was just beginning to consider re-unification. A defeated Russia had split into five different countries, all neo-fascist. So the Axis was victorious, but war drained Germany—which incidentally, still revered Hitler, who died a natural death in 1949, instead of committing suicide in forty-five—which still stayed very carefully out of Japan's way.

“As well it might. Japan ruled half of China and most of the
Far East, including all of Korea. Incidentally, the Korean War never happened. Japan also was dictating much of our own economic policies. Every automobile plant in the U.S. was Japanese-owned. GM, Ford, and Chrysler no longer existed. Japan also owned our TV networks, movie studios, and forty percent of America's banks. It had become the world's richest nation, a status made possible by the true story of Midway, the one we had to rewrite.

“These are just the highlights of what the world was like because there was no miracle at Midway. A world of which you and everyone else have absolutely no memory whatsoever, because we went back and made sure the real aftermath of Midway never happened. Any comment?”

Endicott's jaw had dropped like the hinged prow of a ferry boat. It took several seconds before he could reply, and when he did, his voice had descended to the lower decibels of uncertainty.

“I'll be damned if you're not serious. But you didn't have to swear me to secrecy because nobody would believe me anyway. And frankly, I still don't. Words, however convincing they sound, are not proof.”

“Agreed. So here's visible proof.”

Petibone opened the envelope he had been carrying and took out an eight-by-eleven, black-and-white glossy photograph that he handed to Endicott.

“This was taken at Pearl Harbor, on March 28, 1942, almost one month before Doolittle's B-25s took off from the carrier
Hornet.
The musical group you're looking at happens to be the band from the
California.
See that capsized hull in the background? That's what's left of the old target ship
Utah,
which the Jap pilots mistook for a carrier. Visible proof of the photo's vintage.

“Now, very closely, look at those two men in the front row of the band, the ones wearing civilian clothes. Care to identify them?”

Endicott stared hard at the photo, then looked up at Petibone with an expression of absolute shock.

“It's you and Gerry,” he breathed. “Will you give me your word that photo hasn't been doctored?”

“I'll do better than that. Turn it over and read what's on the back.” Endicott complied. “It's stamped ‘Official U.S. Navy photograph. Classified and not for publication.' Then a date . . .”

He paused, took a deep breath, then muttered, “March 28, 1942.” Petibone put the photo back in its envelope. “Satisfied?”

“Up to a point. How about showing me this alleged time machine of yours?”

Petibone shook his head. “No can do.”

“I'm not surprised. Why not?”

“Josh, I just don't want
anyone
to see it, to find out it exists. In effect, we've been playing God by tampering with time itself, and there are people who'd stop the U.S from ever using it again, on moral grounds.”

“You're going back in time again?”

“Gerry and I are going to make one more trip, despite our concerns about the long-range effects of the metabolic disruptions. When we return, I'll dismantle the machine and destroy all the technical data I used to build it.”

“I'd be willing to risk those effects. So how about taking me with you?”

“The machine can handle only two people safely. Believe me, with three passengers one of us wouldn't survive.”

“Then let me go instead of Gerr. You said yourself that he went because he had to teach those band members.”

Petibone shook his head. “Too dangerous. Look, neither Gerry nor I have any kids. You have three. Besides, you weigh well over two hundred pounds, and our early experiments with relatively large animals, like obese hogs, showed that the more weight, the
more drastic the metabolic problems. Death is possible, and shorter life expectancy almost a certainty. Gerry and I accepted those risks because we felt changing Midway was all-important to the world's future.”