He got back to his office and busied himself, still thinking about what the young officer had said.  "This isn't supposed to be here!"  The words filled him with a kind of horror, a kind of foreboding that simply wouldn't go away.  WHAT wasn't supposed to be here?  He tried not to think about it.  Finally he got a call from the hospital that their guest had regained consciousness.  Davis hurried over.  "just got him something to eat," the doctor remarked, emerging from the room as Davis arrived.  "Try not to be too long, please!  I want that man to rest. He's been through some kind of horrendous ordeal.  He needs to recover."
"I'll be as quick as I can," Davis promised.  He went into the room and the young officer looked at him.
"Well, I didn't get a name,"  Gen. Davis remarked.  "though you look familiar!  I  have a feeling I should know you."
"You will, in a couple of years!"  the officer answered.  "I will be the last of your son's children.  It's probably him that you recognize in me."
Davis stared in utter bewilderment.  "What are you talking about?" he asked.
"I'm your grandson!"  the officer answered, "I've come from the future.  Everyone is dying there.  Somebody came, told us why, and gave us the means to fix it.  But we don't have much time.  Empathy is growing very quickly and if we do not undo what was done in short order, mankind is finished."
"This is some kind of sick joke, isn't it?" Davis asked.
"I only wish it was!"  the younger man moaned.  "I only wish it was!  All of this is not supposed to exist.  The south lost The War Of Northern Aggression.  Something happened somewhere that wasn't supposed to happen, and history was changed.  And this false history leads only to mankind's extermination.  The only hope we have is to go back and fix what went wrong."
Davis got up and went to the window.  "This is insane!"  he moaned, "This is absolutely insane!  How can you possibly expect me to believe this?"
"Look out the window," the young officer remarked, "your aide is rushing here with a message from headquarters.  One of your peace keeping units in The Sudan has been attacked, wiped out.  The field commander there is asking permission to make a full retaliatory strike.  Your aide will start to cross the street.  There's a truck coming loaded with sewer pipes.  It'll stop at the light.  Another truck will come up behind it and ram it.  One of the pipes will come off the truck, strike your aide, and kill him."
Davis stared out the window.  To his horror he could see Lee hurrying down the street to the intersection.  In agonizing precision everything that the man on the bed described came to pass!
Davis stared in shock out the window, then turned and looked at the man on the bed.  "What in the hell are you?  he asked, "WHO in the hell are you?"
"I told you," the young man answered, "I'm your grandson!"
Davis stared at him for a moment, then looked out the window again.  The man behind him muttered, "And this is just the beginning of your day.  In a few minutes a state police officer is going to arrive to inform you that my sister has been murdered with her fiancee by a group of white supremacists, angry that someone of her station would be marrying a colored man.  I don't have much time.  The transfer device only gives me 48 hours in this time.  Despite your grief, you must help me find out where things went wrong, and get ready to make the next step into the past to right it."
"What?" Davis asked.
"This is 2,005," the young man continued.  "We can only travel one hundred years into the past.  That is all the transfer device will give us.  Then we will automatically be thrown back into our own time.  Nothing can stop it, nothing can prevent it, we must find the point of diversion so you can go into the past and fix it.  We will all disappear, but the human race will survive."
The doctor Davis had been speaking with earlier entered, a bewildered look on his face.  "Gen. Davis," he managed, "there's a state police officer out here.  He must speak with you, sir!"
"I saw the accident out the window," Davis asked.  "How is my aide?"
The doctor grimaced.  "I'm sorry, sir," he answered, "he's dead, sir.  Never had a chance, sir!"
Davis stared at the man on the bed, then turned and hurried out of the room.  The state police officer must've been a soldier at one time, because he came to attention when Davis appeared.  "Sir!" he snapped, "it is with deepest regret that I must inform you that your daughter and her fiancee have been murdered.  The murderers were The Sons Of Purity.  The security guards at the function killed three of them.  Two have been captured.  As soon as possible, sir, we need you to identify your daughter's body.  We have already contacted your wife, and she has said that she simply could not do it.  Can you accompany me, sir?"
Davis again stared back into the room from which he had emerged.  "I will accompany you immediately, sir!" he answered.  
"Please stand at ease!"
The next few hours were living hell.  Seeing what had been done to his daughter enraged him.  Witnessing the interrogation of the killers and there leader, who had been picked up within minutes of the incident, enraged him even more!
"I thought this was behind us," he muttered, as he stood by the two way mirror.