Time Travelers Never Die - Jack McDevitt [132]
That, plus the briefcase, got her curiosity up. “Sure,” she said.
She lived in a sixth-floor condo above City Avenue. It was tastefully furnished, and a picture of Shel occupied a side table. They sat down opposite each other. “I’ve been doing some traveling,” said Dave.
“Really? Where?”
He set the briefcase down on the sofa and opened it. She looked at the converters. “What are they?”
“An invention of Shel’s father.”
She picked one up. “It looks like a Q-pod.”
“It’s a time machine.”
That provoked a broad grin. “Seriously.”
“Helen, Shel and I have been traveling in time.”
“Come on, Dave. You want to talk to me or not?”
“I’m not kidding.”
She sat back and nodded. Right. Of course. Why hadn’t she thought of it herself?
“It’s true,” he said.
“Dave—”
“If you’ll allow me, I’ll do a demonstration.”
She frowned at it. Looked at her watch.
“All right,” Dave said. “Let me show you.” He handed her one of the converters. “Can you attach it somewhere? To a pocket or something? There’s a clip on back.”
“You’re serious.”
“Humor me.”
She took a long, deep breath, put it into a pocket in her slacks, and fastened it. “Okay. Now what?”
“Stand.”
He got up. She looked at him uncertainly, and stood.
“Ready?” he asked.
“I suppose. We aren’t going back to play tag with dinosaurs, are we?”
“Laugh if you like.”
“If you haven’t noticed, Dave, I’m not laughing.”
“Okay. There’s a large black button at the top. When you push it, the room’s going to fade. Don’t be alarmed when it does. Within a few seconds you’ll be somewhere else.” The skeptical smile was gone. Her eyes held him in a frightened gaze. She was beginning to wonder if he’d lost his mind. “Ready?”
She nodded, mouth open. Said nothing.
He fastened his own converter to his belt. “One. Brace yourself.” That brought the smile back. But it was less self-assured this time.
“I’m braced.”
“Wrong choice of words. Two. I’ll be with you.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“Three.”
She hesitated. Pressed the button, and he immediately followed suit. The living room began to grow dim. She stiffened. The walls and furniture faded to a green landscape with broad lawns and gas streetlamps. The lawns and lamps became solid, and she staggered out of the fading aura. He caught her as she started to fall.
“Welcome to Ambrose, Ohio,” he said. “We’ve gone upstream. Into the past. It’s 1905.” She was making odd murmuring sounds. “Teddy Roosevelt is president.”
“Not possible,” she said. Eyes wide, she was looking at the sky, at clusters of trees, at a nearby town, at the dirt road underfoot, at a railroad station. “Can’t be happening.”
Dave had been there once before, with Shel, when Thomas Edison was supposed to pass through, but they hadn’t done their research thoroughly, and he didn’t show up. It was a pleasant little town with tree-lined streets and white picket fences. Straw hats were in favor for men, and bright ribbons for ladies. Down at the barbershop, the talk would be mostly about the canal they were going to dig through Panama.
Birds sang, and in the distance the clean bang of church bells started. He helped her across a set of railroad tracks, and they stopped in front of a general store.
She leaned against him, trying to shut it out.
“It takes a little getting used to,” Dave said.
“This is crazy.” People were burning leaves, talking over back fences. Cabbage was cooking somewhere. A single car, an open coach, really, with its engine mounted in the rear, moved noisily past them and crossed the tracks.
“How long?” she said.
“How long have we had these?”
“Yes.”
“For almost a year. Shel’s father invented it.”
“Okay.” She was in a state of near shock.
“He went back to see Galileo.” Dave waited for her to laugh. She just kept looking straight ahead. A couple of people came out of a drugstore, looked their way, then turned in the opposite direction.
“But . . . ?” She seemed unable to manage a sentence.
“The device got wet, and he was stranded. He’s still there.”
“Where?”
“In the seventeenth century.”
“Then he’s dead.”
“It’s complicated.”