Mark Dunn - The Age Altertron

“So what did you need to see the mayor about?”

“There has been no mention of whether I am entitled to a pension. My wife and I have no income now. I needed to find out if there will be a little money for us to live on.”

“And what did the Mayor say?”

“That I had to discuss it with his new police chief.”

“Who is the new police chief?” asked the Professor. He held a cup of warm beef broth in both hands. Becky had just brewed it for him. It was not as fine a meal as oatmeal and mashed bananas, but it did keep the hunger pangs away for a while at least.

“It’s Lonnie. Lonnie Rowe, the boy my partner and I arrested for helping to incite the City Park baby carriage riot. Jackie, now Mayor Stovall, eluded us. But we got Lonnie and kept him in jail for a whole day. He is now the new police chief. I’m sure that he will take vengeance on me and I will see no pension. But that is neither here nor there. Oh look, there’s your little terrier, Professor. Where are his earmuffs?”

“He only wears them when there are loud noises to contend with. Please, go on.”

“Yes. Well, as you can see, it takes me a little while to get from Point A to Point B. It took me an extra minute or two to leave the Mayor’s office after our chat. During that time I overheard a conversation between the Mayor and his new police chief that he probably didn’t think I could hear. But I can actually still hear quite well. Perhaps it comes from all those years of listening closely for potential noise violations.”

“What did you overhear, Officer Wall?” asked Becky.

“The Mayor was asking the police chief to send some of his men — the younger men, that is, those who have just joined the force — not any of the old codgers like myself who are now too rusty to do our jobs — to send them here to this house, with an order to destroy all the equipment in this lab. All the tools, all of your notebooks, everything. He wants to shut your laboratory down, Professor Johnson.”

“Upon what grounds!” cried the Professor. So unsettling was this report from the former police officer that Professor Johnson started to rise up from his chair, knotting himself in his blanket and sloshing his broth all about.

“Upon the grounds that your laboratory poses a danger to the town of Pitcherville. He said that he heard there was a fire here last night. Now, I don’t know if there was one or not…”

“There was,” admitted Rodney solemnly.

“And he says he cannot trust that there will not be other fires with a doddering old fool at work here.”

The Professor grimaced when Officer Wall said “doddering old fool.” It was a look of anger and hurt.

Officer Wall continued: “And with all the chemicals and potentially explosive materials in this laboratory no one could be sure that the next fire wouldn’t be far worse than the last, or could even result in the whole neighborhood being blown to smithereens! And that is all of the conversation I heard, for by then I had reached the door. But that was plenty to hear, don’t you think?”

“Oh it was more than enough, Officer Wall, and I appreciate your telling us.” The Professor settled himself back into his chair. “Do you children see what our new mayor is doing?”

Rodney nodded. “Jackie must know that we are working on a new Age Altertron. And he must know that once we finish it and all of us have been returned to our true ages, he won’t be able to hold on to his power over this town any more — that his days of being a dictator will be over. Then he and Lonnie will have to go back to being the two juvenile delinquent nobodies they have always been!”

“Well put, Rodney,” said the Professor. “So where shall we move all of this equipment to continue our work on the machine in secret?”

“How about your sub-basement?” suggested Wayne. “And who was it who told us about the Professor’s sub-basement, Wayne?” asked Rodney, arching an eyebrow at his brother.

“Well — let me— oh. It was Jackie. But is it true, Professor?”

“It is true. I am trying to think of how Jackie would come to know about my several basements, though.”

“Well, Professor,” said Officer Wall, “he and Lonnie have always made it their habit to sneak into places where they could hide from my fellow officers and me.”

“And you do like to leave you laboratory door unlocked, Professor,” added Wayne.

“Well, now that the truth is out, Wayne, I will admit that I not only have a basement and a sub-basement but even a cellar and a sub-cellar below those.”“Why so many underground rooms, Professor?” asked Wayne.

“I will tell you some day, but not today. Suffice it to say, Jackie and Lonnie know of the basements, so we will have to think of some other place to move our lab. Let us put our heads together, kids; where is the last place that those two thugs would think of looking for my Age Altertron?”

“Well,” said Rodney, “I know of a cellar that few people know about — a cellar that even I have never seen.”

“Where is it?”

“Beneath my very own house.”

“What is Rodney talking about, Wayne?” asked Becky. “You two never told me there was a cellar under your house.”

Wayne nodded. “It’s a secret cellar. It was built over a hundred years ago, at the time that the house was built.”

“The cellar was a place for slaves to hide,” explained Rodney. “Slaves who were escaping from their Confederate masters before the outbreak of the Civil War. You see, our father’s house was once a stop on the Underground Railroad.”

The Professor whistled his surprise. “And in this case the word ‘underground’ may be applied quite literally! I had no idea, Rodney. And I happen to know a great deal about the history of this town.”

“Well that was the idea — that no one should know about it, except the people who were supposed to know about it, the people who wanted to help the runaway slaves.”

“But why have you two never seen it?” asked Becky. “What is down there now?”

Rodney lowered his voice dramatically, as if to add a note of mystery to his story. “Well, that is the second half of the tale. My father started building something down there. Something secret. He began building it when Wayne and I were very small. He said that some day he would show it to us. In fact, he said that he hoped to be able to show it to us when we turned seventeen.”

The Professor looked puzzled. “Why seventeen, Rodney? Is there some significance to that age that is momentarily escaping me?”

Wayne answered for his brother: “There is no significance about our being seventeen, Professor. What is significant is the year that he wanted to show it to us: 1960.”

“1960. How curious. I cannot think why that year should hold such meaning for your father. Can you , Officer Wall?”

“I didn’t know your father very well so I couldn’t say. The year holds no special meaning for me , although 1960 will be the year I turn ninety if your machine doesn’t return us all to our real ages.”

“We must go talk to Aunt Mildred, Rodney,” said Wayne. “She knows about the cellar. And she also knows what’s down there. Maybe she’ll let us work on the machine there if what our father has left there can be set aside. It can’t be any more important than what we are doing to save this town. I’m sure that Dad would agree.”

The Professor nodded. “Wayne, you make a very good case.”

“An astute case?” asked Wayne, hopefully.

“Most astute, my boy. Now you and Rodney go speak to your aunt. I’ll remain and nap so that I will be fresh to continue work on my calculations. We cannot afford for me to make another mistake. I must have seven naps a day, you see, and by my latest estimation, I am two behind.”