Time Travelers Never Die - Jack McDevitt [55]
“It wasn’t supposed to be like that.” He was thinking about Monday. “You know, you don’t need to take time off from school if you don’t want to.”
“I can’t go in like this.”
“How about if I take you home? You stay there until you’re okay. Keep away from the school. Take two or three weeks. Whatever you need.”
Dave laughed. “Yeah. Right.”
“You’d better keep your converter.”
“That sounds good. Yeah. I’ll be careful with it.”
Shel nodded. “I know you will.” He cleared his throat. “Your family has a cabin in the Poconos, right?”
“Yes.”
“Would anybody be there right now?”
“At this time of year? No. Not a chance.”
“You could recuperate there.”
“But who’s going to cover my classes?”
“You will, partner. Just leave it to me.”
PART TWO
FOOTPRINTS ON THE SANDS
CHAPTER 15
For I dipt into the future, far as human eye could see, Saw the Vision of the world, and all the wonder that would be; Saw the heavens fill with commerce, argosies of magic sails, Pilots of the purple twilight, dropping down with costly bales. . . .
—ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON, LOCKSLEY HALL
IT was a two-hour drive to the cabin. The last eight miles took him up a single-lane dirt road with a series of hairpin turns. Dave’s father, in his most unflinching style, had picked the highest place in the area for the family cabin. The woods were thick, and the cabin had a magnificent view of Starlight Lake. But the stars were hidden by thick clouds when he arrived. Even the lights along the lakefront were little more than distant smudges.
There were supposed to be bears in the area, but he’d never seen one. All the same, his folks had kept him close when they’d come here during his childhood summers. They’d expected he would love the place, but the problem had been a lack of other kids. The only people close by were the Bakers and the Hertzogs, both of whom were retired couples.
He was near the top of the road when he saw headlights around the curve. He edged cautiously forward, found a space off to one side, and pulled over to make room for the other vehicle. It blinked its lights as it passed.
The cabin was a triple-decker, with living room, kitchen, and veranda at midlevel. His folks still came here every summer, and he usually spent a week or so with them.
He slipped into the driveway, the security lights came on, and he got out. The place had always been too remote for him. But at the moment it was ideal.
He’d brought a few books. And he’d stopped and picked up some groceries and painkillers. He needed two difficult trips up the outside staircase to get everything indoors. It was mid-December, and the cabin was cold. He turned on the lights, and adjusted the thermostat.
He plugged in the refrigerator and put everything away. Then he made a sandwich and topped it off with a rum and Coke. Unsure how the painkillers would interact with the drink, he left them aside, eased himself into an armchair, and put on the TV. One of the cable news shows.
They were still getting fallout from the failure of the Syrian-Iraqi peace effort, but he didn’t care much about politics at the moment. He just wanted voices in the room. Shel had made him promise he’d call when he arrived. So he did, using the landline since he’d left the cell phone, along with his driver’s license, with the Selma police.
Shel asked what he planned to do while he was there.
“I’m just going to hang around here and sleep and read.”
“Good. No hiking, huh?”
“I think I’ll pass on that.”
“Okay. I’ve got an interesting piece of news for you.”
“What’s that?”
“Your sub is here. He came in early this evening, about two hours after you’d left.”
“Okay. That’s good to hear.”
“Yeah. It’s weird. But I thought you’d want to know. As long as everything’s okay. I’m going to head for bed. Been a long couple days. I’ll talk to you later, Dave.”
AFTER he’d gotten past childhood, life at the cabin had been pleasant. It held good memories for him. He’d brought women here from time to time. But it was a long trip, so there had been only a few. Those he’d really liked. One in