Chapter 2

"Sometimes the most important step is the one you didn't take."
~ Fortune Cookie, China 3 Restaurant, 57th Remove

Mary Grace Cline was not sure of much. But she was sure of one thing: If Ben did not get the firewood in faster she was going to freeze to death. "You are as slow as molasses, Benjamin Nathaniel Cline! Hurry up. I want to stoke this fire quickly. Come on, now!"

At just over 5 feet tall, Ben was a short man for his family. Every one of his brothers were over 6 feet tall. Even his mother, Mary Grace, was a touch taller than he was. While his father was alive, Ben never let his stature limit his resolve to live up to the Cline heritage.

"Cline men are men. They are strong and brave. Cline men do not run from the fight; they end it. Cline men are protectors, boy! You will all grow to be men if it kills you." He recalled his father admonishing the children. "Each of you may one day be tasked with taking care of your own wife, children, and even your mother and sister. I expect you to honor that commitment." The memory was often mixed with tasks of chopping logs for the winter, plowing, or even working with the few livestock they managed.

The Clines were an average family. They didn't have a lot, but they were able to sustain their home with the skills and meager income they could gain from work or selling produce from their garden. If there was one thing the Clines were able to do, they could absolutely grow a garden. In fact, they were already preparing the plot for the coming spring. If this April cold snap would lift a little, they'd absolutely begin to turn over the soil.

As a white family in the Carolinas, they were an agricultural family. They grew sustenance, not tobacco. Thamus Cline did not own any slaves and swore an oath he and his children never would. "It's dastardly. I don't understand how those big farmers can't see the human dignity they're betraying. Those people are people. Made in God's image just like us. Sure, they're a little darker, most of them. But they're no less children of God. Makes me wanna spit!" He'd exclaim to his kids. And it made it nearly impossible for his produce to be profitable. The only people to work his crops were him and his boys. Now, Thamus was passed. Next month, he'd be gone for a full year. Now just the 7 of these young men were left to guard the Cline home. Each one an Irish twin of the other. Even the oldest who was conscripted into the local militia was doing double duty to serve and chip in at home.

Ben felt the most weight. While he was the youngest son, he did not want to have his brothers ever accuse him of being the baby or lumping him in with his 11 year old sister. He wanted to be treated as an equal.

For the most part, they did.

As Ben stoked the fire for his mother, he looked out the single window of their farm house and noticed the gray sky had gotten darker and the wind had begun kicking up a bit more. The draft made the fire almost ineffective.

"I'm going to get another load of wood in for the evening, mother. I'll bring in the last of the first stack. That should keep us til morning." Ben started, then inquiring about the eldest son, "Do you think Thamus will be back this evening or is his regiment still on their way back from Black Mountain?"

His mother's eyes misted. Since the oldest, Thamus Spence Cline, Jr., was named after his late father, frequently the name brought tears to his mother.

"I don't know, Ben. I sure hope so. I sure would like to see him before next week. We are going to have to begin plowing that field tomorrow rain or shine. I know Junior would be really helpful with that. Ruth can help some, but I will need her help in the kitchen."

As Ben stepped out to get the last load of wood, Ruth rounded the corner. Her cheeks bright red from the cold and her thick, red hair barely peeking out from under the ruddy, brown cloak she wore. "Mama, I found some wild asparagus just starting to sprout from last week's warm spell. I think we may have a good helping of berries if the rain keeps up this summer. The berry patch has grown." Ruth nodded to Ben as he held the door for her.

* * *

Ben grabbed the last six logs to end one of the wood piles. The remaining two firewood piles were massive. They would likely add another 8 more piles to the two that remained. Cooking had to be done. And that would require more firewood throughout the summer. Ben was almost always wearing away the path between the door and the woodpile.

But tomorrow was Saturday. When he finished his chores in the morning, he frequently walked the 20 minutes into the local town to buy the few supplies they needed for the week. It was Saturdays he anticipated.

In all likelihood, she'd be there at the store and he always did his chores faster on Saturday mornings when he got a chance to see Annette. He would almost always buy his wares at the end of the day and he would walk her home and spend some time by the far creek.

They had been courting for three months now — four if you count the month they secretly met to exchange pleasantries under the magnolia tree by the school house. When Ben figured he had to do the gentlemanly thing and profess his intentions to her father, he asked George Mace Millman if he would permit him to court his daughter with the intention of being engaged this time next year.

A stern man, George agreed on the condition that they never go beyond the far creek and he keep her honor, "Or I'll kill you… doesn't matter how far back your daddy and I go. He was an honorable man and you will be, too… at least as far as my daughter is concerned."

Tomorrow Ben planned to carry a small bundle of firewood with him to build a small fire by the creek as he often did on the exceptionally cold days.

* * *

Ben and Annette sat on the edge of the creek on a log her dad had especially cut down for them. He said it would keep her dress clean and unsoiled from the dusty silt on the banks of the creek, and the large knotty branch that was placed perfectly as to keep the two sitting at least a foot apart would keep his daughter from becoming soiled before she was able to be married.

Ben tossed a hand full of pebbles into the creek, then warmed his hands by the small fire. He tossed one more thick branch onto the fire with hopes that it would last at least another hour. The sun was already setting later in the day, but one more hour and he'd have to take the flour, butter, and cloth home. At that, it would be another week before he was able to see his darling.

Ben stood up to grab the last of the kindling from the base of the log and tossed it into the fire. Still standing, he picked up a small, flat stone to skip across the creek. He had no more let the pebble fly when he heard a deep, thump followed by a crack. Annette jumped up startled and grasped Ben's sinewy forearm.

"What was that?" She yelped.

He was far enough away from town that almost no one else ever came out to this part of the creek. He wondered if he had heard a gunshot. "That didn't sound like a rifle, Annette. I wonder what that was." The sound came from the other side of the creek and from the direction of the hidden caves. "You think that could have come from inside one of the caves? Maybe dynamite? Maybe prospectors looking for Gold? If so, they're wasting their time. Th'ain't no gold around here."

They were both staring toward Bottom's Cave, one of several caves in the side of the cliff face that was just over the horizon from the creek. Ben hadn't gone to that cave for years since his Dad took him and his brothers to go hunting that direction. He had been there a couple times before and knew it by legend only. The kids all declared it haunted, cursed, or in some manner bad luck. As he got older, he got braver, but he would still admit the uneasiness at those caves still made the hair on his neck stand on end.

He looked at Annette and said, "Wanna go see?" To which Annette grimaced and shook her head. "Cmon. It could be exciting!"

"It likely would be dangerous. And my father has forbidden us crossing the creek together." She retorted, "I heard him when he told you, ‘This log and no further. I don't need my daughter venturing into no cursed Indian burial grounds with you.' And you agreed." She was imitating her father's unique raspy, but deep voice.

"You're right. I should take you home now, but I am telling you, I will be back here to go see what that was. If I run, I'll be able to get to that cave for a quick look and still be able to get home just as it's getting dark."

Annette discouraged him from going as they walked, but she knew once he set his mind, he would be at that cave. When she reached home, he greeted her father and told him about the sound and his intentions of going to the caves.

With a bit of humor, George cautioned Ben, "Be careful boy. I need you to marry my daughter. I've got work for you to do."

Ben smirked at Mr. Millman and tipped his hat, "Sir, if I find any gold, you'll be the second to know… I'll tell Annette first." Then he winked and bowed flamboyantly to his darling and almost sprinted back in the direction of the caves.

* * *

"Sakky, I mean, Madeline. History shows there was a small town about 6 miles that way." Terry said pointing toward the town. They had just peeked out the cave entrance and saw a large field of brushy thickets and growth. "But my map says there's a creek over there, too. Let's head that way. We can start a fire and prep our appearance with a little mud. Grab those water flasks, horns, and a metal pot. We will need to boil and purify some water to drink at some point. That creek may be one of our primary meeting points." Everyone nodding their head in agreement.

Everyone was working quietly and diligently as they prepped their gear to head out. The team consisted of:

• Sakai Dotutsura Mbeywe, Lead Archeochronographer, Author Historian - Mission Name: Madeline Houx
• Sybill Anderson, Chief of navigation - Mission Name: Paul Samuel Ayers
• Callan Liksih, Mechanical Engineer - Mission Name: George Benjamin Capers
• Kyle Marinz, Historical Projectionist - Mission Name: Charles Castor Smith
• Fallon Marsk, Historian Engineer - Mission Name: Frederick Lloyd Barnes
• K. C. McAlberts, Archeochronographer - Mission Name: Felicia Elizabeth Melworth
• Lansing Carlton "CJ" Johnson, Historical Geographer, Cartographer - Mission Name: John Abel Adams
• Mallory "Mal" Tebbs, Time Continuum Operator - Mission Name: Marilyn May Callahan
• Sam "Baker" Thomas, Security, Survival Provisioning - Mission Name: Samuel Baker Brown
• Chase "Beast" Gerrick, Security, Demolitions, Strategy - Mission Name: Daniel Mark Chase
• Chris "Topper" Smart, Security, Communications, Maintenance - Mission Name: Christopher Martin Veers
• Terrance "Terry" Cambyema, Security, Demolitions, Defense - Mission Name: Terry Houx

Each person had their job. Each person knew their role. They had done this drill hundreds… possibly thousands of times until it was reflex. They could break down and stow their pod in 15 minutes if needed. This time, it was not. They took their time with all expectations of having everything done in 35 minutes or less. The pod was placed in the back of the cave and the fake stone facade was in place. Veers kept watch at the cave opening and kept the time cadence, "12 minutes until we're on borrowed time!" He quietly warned.

No need. A minute later and everyone was ready.

"Does everyone have their briefing packets?" Madeline asked receiving affirming nods. "Good. It's time to open the need-to-know portions of your briefings. Each of you take your time reading through the pages and write down any notes or questions. You will have approximately 10 minutes to read it before we close with a 20 minute briefing by the creek about 4 miles that way." She said pointing the direction of travel.

"Once we are clear on what we have to do, each of you remember that we will be talking in our coached dialect when we discuss the final briefing over our fireside." Then, to Terry, "Do you have a quick set fire kit? We will need to ensure the packets are all completely destroyed before we bed down for the evening."

* * *

The team read their briefings as they walked. The only two who did not read their briefings were Terry and Madeline. They had read everything before the mission. Their job was to alert the team to anyone they might meet in their walk to the first rendezvous point. As the team approached the creek, they noted a large log sitting on the edge. "This cannot be our rendezvous. There's remnants of a fire. The coals are still hot. We are going to have to move up river away from town." Advised Chase.

With that, the team turned north up the river and found a clearing about a quarter mile away. Chase took time to mask their trail away from the log area.

The chosen rendezvous was a craggy, rocky area near the creek. There was a rocky overhang which gave some initial shelter from sight and the elements. They built a small fire with one of their quick set fire kits. This would serve as a cook fire, warmth, and, most importantly, disposal of the last of their documentation. Some of the crew took to the nearby woods to gather firewood and supplies to make a quick temporary camp.

Atop the rocky overhang was the perfect place to get a relatively good view of the surrounding area and yet still offered enough cover to keep any watchman from being easily spotted. Two of the security team worked to build low tech gillie suits for keeping watch. While there were very few modern luxuries in their supplies, anything they did have was authentic to their time period even if it had a few hidden perks. Among these, the security team kept a few items on stand by in case things became hostile. But the mission objectives often limited their ability to even protect themselves. Terry knew full well if anything went outside of the margin of error, there could just as easily be a security team that would arrive moments before they arrived and … he dared not complete the thought; it was a distraction from what he was here to do. The mission was all that mattered. He had his own sub mission with the potential of getting additional orders directly from the Admiral.

It was going to be dark soon. Then it would be time to start the preparation.

* * *

Ben reached the cave. It was still light and the sun shone into the cave mouth. A fortunate coincidence of Bottom's Cave was this time of year, it pointed directly into the setting sun. He had at most an hour before the sun would be behind the treetops on the far ridge making it harder to see inside the cave. As he walked in, he noticed there were fewer bats than he remembered. Maybe whatever the sound was scared many of them away. Maybe he was just remembering things wrong.

The cave had a light crackle of water dripping onto the stone floor from somewhere deeper than he was willing to go. It definitely lent to the uneasy feeling.

"It would be my luck that I stumble on a bear waking from hibernation. That would make today turn out poorly." He thought with a dour smile.

It had been years since he had been inside this cave and even then he hadn't gone much farther than he was now. Still, he would not want to return empty handed. He pressed on a bit further into the shadow… all while keeping the cave mouth in view.

"Well, the entry was a bust. But if I remember, there are a couple of rooms off to either side." He mumbled aloud to no one in particular.

He reached the entry way of the first "room" and couldn't see anything. Immediately a few bats did fly out causing him to stumble backwards in a bit of a panic. With a sore backside and a small scrape on his elbow, Ben regained his composure & chuckled lightly. "Nothing to be a-skeert of." He reassured himself a bit more loudly than he'd expected.

Ben's voice echoed as he hummed… more in an attempt to self sooth. He turned around to go examine the other room when more bats rushed out… This time, he didn't lose his footing. "Still can't see a damned thing." He muttered aloud. I may have to come out next Saturday to explore further. Maybe next time, I'll bring a torch. But it'll have to be next Saturday.

And with a renewed panic, Ben said aloud, "Oh no. It's Saturday. My brothers are probably going to kill me. I fully forgot to hurry back to help plow the field."

Ben turned and hurried to run back home.

* * *

Baker had watched the young man — a local he assumed — come far too close to the pod than he would have liked. Had he had any light or had stumbled a little further, he may have discovered the artificial rock wall they had erected to hide the pod. Surely, the camouflage would have worked even with the light of a torch. "But what if this young man had walked around. What if this young man is highly familiar with this cave? I may have to inform the others and find a second, better location for stowing the pod." Baker considered his options. There was nothing he could do tonight. His job was to finish the last of the prep for covering their arrival. Only once he was finished could he meet the team at the rendezvous.