Bright lights hanging from the high ceiling almost blinded Albert. Every corner of the room was lit to eliminate shadows. Work benches lined the walls.

He paused to study the three machines lined up in the massive space. Each was the size of the giant mechanical dragon he designed for Emperor Meiji. These devices though were shaped like carriages with wheels in place of feet. Instead of three heads, a rapid-fire weapon similar to a Gatling gun was mounted on the front. They were identical to what Captain Napoleon used.

They must have the same weapons supplier. Something to tell Roosevelt when I get out of here.

“Dr. Timmons,” a man called from behind a machine.

A second man stood with shoulders slumped in a resigned manner.

Albert studied them both for a few moments. “Scott Adams and Timothy Carr, you were in my fourth-year class. What are you doing here?”

“Building your machines. We were assured this is your project. That’s right, isn’t it?” Scott asked his companion.

Tim’s face turned red, and he glanced down, refusing to meet their eyes.

The dark-eyed man waited in the door frame as muscular guards shoved the brothers forward. He nodded to his men. They dragged Jack to the side. A handcuff was removed from his wrist and fastened to a pipe. Next, they unlocked an ankle chain and connected it to a metal loop on the floor. A chair was shoved toward Jack. Satisfied the dangerous naval captain was secured; the military man indicated for the guards to leave. They moved in formation from the room. The door shut behind them.

His eyes glowed with an abnormal intensity. He stared at Albert showing no emotion. “You have one month to get these machines functioning. You and your brother will be released after that. But no excuses allowed. Each day that passes after that, your brother suffers until there is nothing left but pain. When I am finished with him, Scott is next. To show you I mean business,” he pulled out a gun and shot Jack in the fleshy part of his arm.

His brother jerked back with surprise. Blood spurted down his arm.

A white-faced Scott rushed forward with a rag and tied it around the wound.

Albert stood stiff and glared at the man. A flood of rage shook him.

The man watched Albert’s reaction with a satisfied expression. “Good, I got your attention.” He turned and left. The door locked behind him with a loud click.

“I had no idea about this. Tim said you set this job up. We’ve been working on these machines for several months in anticipation of your return from Japan.” Scott was almost crying from despair.

Tim’s voice cut through the room. “You need to not waste time.

“Jack, are you alright?” Albert studied his brother.

“Yes. I’ve been nicked before in naval battles. This was just a surprise. But the man means business. Any idea who he is?”

“General Carr, formerly of the U.S. Army,” Tim proudly announced.

“A relative? That explains your deceit,” Scott announced.

Tim hotly defended his relation, “My uncle is a brilliant leader. He has worked on this plan for several years. Dr. Timmons, please get these machines working. I don’t like to see anyone in pain, either.”

Scott stomped off in disgust. Albert studied the defiant student, sighed, and walked over to one of the machines. He flipped a switch, and it started shaking and clinking. After listening to it for a couple of minutes, he turned it off. A bolt dropped off as it shuddered to a halt. “The other two like this?”

“Almost.” Scott came over to him.

“Well, we will start with this one, take it apart, piece by piece and reshape the wheels and gears.”

“We were very precise in our construction,” Tim responded proudly and stuck his chin up.

Albert ignored him and turned to Scott. “Clear that worktable over there. I need tools.”

A screwdriver was slapped in his outstretched hand. He was aware of Jack’s silent scrutiny in the beginning but then got involved twisting screws and loosening bolts. Each gear was removed, examined, and then directed to a specific pile on the tables. Down to the base, he was suddenly aware of the silence in the room.

General Carr had entered the room while he was engrossed with the dismantling of the machine. “Do you need another demonstration?”.

He looked at the man with a confused expression and then realized what the general meant. “Did you think I could twist a screw here and there, to make it run? These machines are more complicated than that. See that pile over there? Those gears have to be remade. Even a slight warp in it and the whole setup if off balance. Let me show you.” Albert turned on one of the other machines.”

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It began with a grinding noise and then screeched to a halt.

“All these have to be retooled if you want them to function.”

“I don’t care what you need to do. But remember, one month, or your brother suffers more than this.” Carr pointed to Jack’s blood-stained arm.

“That went well,” Jack’s weary voice commented as the general stomped out.

“Tim, I don’t know what time it is, but we need food. Get your uncle to feed us.” Albert said this in a loud voice; he knew the General listened to their conversation.

A while later, guards wheeled in a cart with food plates. On the bottom shelf, someone included a stack of white napkins and a bowl of water to clean Jack’s wound. One napkin was folded to resemble a bird. The design reminded him of the folded paper creatures he witnessed in Japan. He ignored the interesting coincidence and carried his plate over to the pile of misshaped metal parts. Pointing a fork at a stack of gears, he said, “These are useable, they need to be heated, flattened, and then polished. This other pile, these pieces are almost perfect, and will need only a little adjustment. Start the furnace up so we can start shaping them. Did you work from a blueprint? I need to see it.”

At the university design labs, he was known for his tireless energy. They now had spent hours correcting the gears, getting the metal shaped and smoothed to his exact specifications. The machine was ready to reassemble. He picked up a part and started to turn when his hand wobbled.

Jack called out, “Time to stop. Albert, you are about to collapse. You must rest and eat some more; tomorrow we can start early.”

Tim studied his pale teacher and gave up the pretense of being just one of the students. He called out, “Uncle, Dr. Timmons needs a break. We can start the reassembly tomorrow.”

Exhaustion set in. The walk back to their rooms passed in a blur. He was aware of Jack and his chains rattling beside him. Albert’s feet felt so heavy. He stumbled, and his brother reached out to hold him up.

They sat on the beds and waited while Jack was reattached to the frame. A gray-haired man, with a thick fuzzy beard brought in their food. Something about the way he moved caught Albert’s attention, but he was too tired to think about it.

They sat on the edge of the beds and ate bent over their plates. Facing each other, about a foot apart, Jack whispered between bites, “You can quit pretending. I’ve seen you work two days straight without stopping.”

“I’m worried about you. The bullet wound must hurt.”

“It went straight through. Can you do this in four weeks?”

“If I drag it out. The first one can be reassembled in a couple more days. The other two, that just depends on how damaged they are inside. After that, I can tinker with them while we work on a plan to escape.”

“Just fix them, I’ll get us out of here.”

Albert grinned. “I did bring a few things along.”

“Noticed the ring and belt, the boots also. Thought what you can accomplish with that small—“

“I modified it somewhat.”

Jack swallowed to keep from laughing. “Of course you did. You anticipated the kidnapping?”

“Navy tried to tell me you drowned. I reassured the Admiral that was not true. Other happenings, along with that, warned me I was next.”

“Happenings?”

“Someone hired Pinkerton detectives to watch me. They were pulled back the day you disappeared. After that, Henry, father’s aide set up private surveillance. There was a man hiding in my house. When I was captured, he was supposed to follow me.”

“I was warned also by someone. The note came from the Admiral, told me to walk carefully. Did not sound like Father, though.”

Albert sat back for a moment in thought and then leaned forward to stab at his food. “That was from my contact, or rather, Harris’s. This goes high in the government. On my trip to Japan, any correspondence like that came from the VP. Are we the sacrificial goats, or the inside men to thwart their plan?”

His brother grinned and said, “Probably both. We need to rest. The General is eager, he’ll want to start early tomorrow.”

Their dinnerware rattled as they set the tray to the side. Almost immediately, a man entered to take them. Another came in with a wrist shackle attached to a shorter chain. Jack’s arm was stretched back. He could no longer bend forward from the bed’s edge.

“Hard to eat that way with a sore shoulder,” Albert commented.

The man that Albert thought seemed familiar growled, “General doesn’t want any private conversations.”

Jack bent his head to the side and made eye contact with Albert. The message was clear, now to use their coded words. Something between them only they could decipher.

“Sleep well, dear brother.” Albert removed his boots and laid back with the cover wrapped tight around him. The phrasing told Jack; he understood.

Albert dreamed about Ayame. They were floating together on the dance floor. In the midst of a waltz, her green eyes sparkled with a warning. She whispered in his ear. He leaned forward to hear her words.

Their door swung open, and the breakfast trays were delivered.

Albert struggled to wake up with heart pounding. Ayame’s presence seemed so real, her words, also.

“Eat some of the green stone.”

If he did that, his life would be forever changed. Bright green eyes were hard to hide. That action must be left for last. Albert sat up with a groan and discovered his brother watching him.

“Everything alright? You yelled, ‘wait’ and reached out.”

“A dream,” Albert smiled, remembering her touch as they danced.

“Well, get your act together. You have work to do.”

Jack’s words, “act together,” were a coded warning about revealing too much. He seemed to realize the dream was about a woman.

He shook off Ayame’s memory and prepared for the day.

Several days later, Albert finished off his mental checklist and walked around the machine. He gave a satisfied nod and indicated for Tim to climb inside on the seat. The man settled in and closed a metal flap over his head.

The machine started with a jerk and then settled down to a smooth rhythm. After listening to it for a few minutes, Albert banged on the outside and yelled, “Get it moving.”

In a burst of steam, the metal carriage heaved forward for about twenty feet, did a right turn, after about ten feet did another right turn. It continued, doing several maneuvers and then came to a stop facing Albert. Tim’s head popped up from the metal flap. His face was red with excitement.

The locked door behind them opened. General Carr strutted in. “Dr. Timmons, superb job. Now, get the other two working.” Without saying anymore, Carr turned and slammed the door shut behind him. The lock sounded like a bullet discharge as it engaged.

“Scott and Tim, you start taking the next one apart. I am going over this one to make some minor adjustments. There was a wheeze---” his voice trailed off as he loosened a screw.