I embrace with great satisfaction the opportunity which now presents itself of congratulating you on the present favorable prospects of our public affairs. The recent accession of the important state of north Carolina to the Constitution of the United States (of which official information has been received), the rising credit and respectability of our country, the general and increasing good will toward the government of the Union, and the concord, peace, and plenty with which we are blessed are circumstances auspicious in an eminent degree to our national prosperity.
George Washington took a moment to pause and take a sip from his glass of water. He took a look at the faces out there looking at him, in this newly built Federal Hall in the city of New York. The first Congress of the United States of America. All freshmen, but not without political experience. Nonetheless, there wasn't a person in the room who didn't feel awe in the presence of the great Washington. And he knew it. He savored every second of it. Then he continued speaking.
Washington finished the speech with little ado. The fact was he loved giving this speech. When the Congress rose with thunderous applause, Washington allowed himself a little smile. It was one of the perks of the job. When the applause settled, he acknowledged his audience gratefully and departed the room. He made sure not to give any outward appearance of the relish he took in the moment, maintaining the austere and modest facade he knew the people loved.
"A brilliant speech as always,” greeted a plump Benjamin Franklin from the right wing of the stage. “You sound better every time. Ever think about changing it? I always thought a note about our political allies would fit right in with the spirit of uniting the people."
"You mean the French,” chimed in Jefferson. Thomas Jefferson towered above the two at 6 foot 2. Franklin took a step back.
"Yes. They are our allies."
"For now,” Jefferson said, “Alliances change. The only permanent interest of the French are themselves."
Washington picked up his jacket from a hook on the wall and walked with the two out to the street. Washington continued the conversation, “They're not so different from the British in that respect."
"Nor ourselves,” Franklin said.
Washington snorted. The three reached the stagecoach waiting for them. Before stepping in Washington asked, “You sure you both want to come with me? I just need to pick up some things for the next trip."
Jefferson groaned. “Do we have to do the speech again? I thought 3 times was enough. How much stroking does your ego need?"
"I suppose we can find something else to do. Does Franklin have plans?"
Franklin grunted, “Yes HE does. I'm right here, you know. Tom and I have the choices narrowed down. If you give the ok, we can be in Florida by tomorrow."
Washington nodded. “Then get in, we're gonna need some shorts."
With that, the stagecoach rode off into the streets of New York.
The cart ran through the narrow, littered streets. Jefferson took a glance outside, watching the developing area with interest. The year was 1790, and the nation was ending its first year under a new constitution. It was a good time for self-reflection. Well, just as good a time as any other, anyways. As Jefferson peered out intently, Franklin tried to strike up a conversation.
"What are you thinking, Thomas?"
"Nothing important. Just musing about our new country."
"It's marvelous, isn't it?” Franklin said warmly, “I didn't think I would live to see the day."
"Well, I'm glad your here with us. You make good travelling company."
"I owe you that much."
Washington cocked an eyebrow, but got out of the coach as it had reached its destination.
Washington's New York residence was a modest affair. Though as with everything related to Washington, modesty had to be taken as a relative term. To be sure, the house outshone all the others on the street. There was enough room to comfortably fit Washington, his wife, a servant, and three guests. As it was, one of the guest rooms was temporarily converted to a library, but the house still stood a subtle statement of excess.
The three walked into the house. Washington was about to head upstairs to fetch some clothes when he heard a small creaking sound from further on down the main hall. Intrigued, he peered into the library, and then into the living room. The house was supposed to be empty as Martha was on holiday in Philadelphia. Washington sent the servant home as he planned on maintaining an erratic schedule. Jefferson and Franklin were his only guests.
"Did you hear that?” Washington asked.
Jefferson nodded silently. “You didn't tell anyone you were coming, did you?” he asked in a low whispered voice.
"Well, it's kind of hard to miss me, given the speech and all. Plus according to records, I'm supposed to be in New York right now."
Jefferson nodded again. He took a step into the living room.
A gun cocked. “Stop right there, Mr. Jefferson,” said a voice from within the room.
Jefferson turned to face the man. “Weishaupt,” Jefferson realized immediately.
"Yes,” said the man with the gun. He emerged from the doorway that led into the kitchen so that all could get a clearer view. Adam Weishaupt was an imposing man, even at the relatively short height of 5 foot 8. His clothing was colorfull and he wore several badges on his chest. And of course the flintlock pistol in his hand.
"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised to see you here, Jefferson,” he continued, “given the circumstances. Nor you, too Mr. Franklin,” he said, peering around into the corner. “No I'm sorry, Ambassador Franklin. Why don't you two come into the room. I insist.” Weishaupt put a particular emphasis on the last word, with a flourish of his pistol.
Washington and Franklin slowly stepped into the living room. As Washington stepped in, he made sure to keep his right side relatively obscured. He reached down slowly for his own pistol, and with an attempt to affect a natural gesture, brought it up to face Weishaupt. “Now, Adam, drop your weapon."
Weishaupt swung around, and pointed his weapon straight at Franklin. “No. You drop your weapon, or the dear Ambassador dies far before his time.” Weishaupt snorted at his own little joke.
Washington shook his head and maintained his stance.
"Are you really prepared to use that weapon, Mr. Washington?” Weishaupt said. “Do you really think you can get off a clean shot on me? Do you think I won't be able to hit your friend before I fall? If so you should fire your weapon now. Shoot now, or drop the gun. Or I will fire my own."
Washington stood still for a moment, then slowly lowered his gun.
"Drop it,” Weishaupt insisted. Washington complied reluctantly.
"Let that be a lesson. NEVER point a weapon at a person unless you are prepared to use it. Anything else is cowardous and dangerous.” Weishaupt took a moment to pause and take in the room. “Now, as for the business at hand,” Weishaupt took a step closer to Washington. “I suppose you know why I'm here."
Washington gulped and nodded. “You want my job."
Weishaupt laughed, “No I want far more than that, Mr. Washington. I've lost patience with you. Now, I want your life."
"You know, Washington, you could've been an emperor. You could have ruled these people like the kings of Europe. You were their hero. You freed them from one tyranny and they would support you if you led them into another. But NO, your goddamn ego was too big. You had to play modesty, you had to play noble, and throw away 20 years of work getting you here. MY work, Washington. Don't forget who bought you this time. Don't forget who-"
Another gun cocked. This time Jefferson was the one holding it. “You should know better than to monologue, Adam. And I AM prepared to use my weapon."
Weishaupt nodded. He took a step back. “Well then,” he said, “perhaps we'll finish our business at a later point. Until then,” Weishaupt fired his gun in distraction and ran out the back of the house.
"What the hell was that,” asked Franklin.
"Just an old friend,” Jefferson and Washington said simultaneously.
"Come on,” Jefferson said urgently, running through the back of the house. Washington and Franklin followed.
"Damn,” Jefferson said, noticing that Weishaupt had most thoroughly disappeared, along with any notion of the path he may have taken.
"The man holds a gun to your head and now you want to chase him?” Washington asked.
"Well, think about it. He came here to kill you. He said so himself. Because we were here he didn't."
"Would he have killed me if you weren't?"
"I don't know... Ben!” Jefferson shouted to Franklin who was off messing around in the bushes nearby the house. When Franklin emerged out came another wooden stagecoach with him, one that looked a little too shiny and modern to leave about where people could see it. Franklin popped the trunk and rifled through some papers.
"He's definitely supposed to be alive. George here serves out the entirety of his term. And there's no mention of Weishaupt."
"What?” Washington said, confused, “How do you know that?"
"Because in case you haven't noticed,” Franklin said, “this is a time machine. You've traveled through it 3 times already. Don't you think it's plausible that Jefferson and I made just a few more trips before picking you up?"
"Oh.” Washington said, still evidently confused.
Jefferson brushed by them. “Let's go. We're in a hurry now."
"So we're not going to Florida?” Washington asked, with a touch of disappointment.
Jefferson sighed. “Get in the car, both of you. We have work to do."
With that, they piled in to the stagecoach, hitched up a horse, and took off.
Onward, to Chapter 2