The Time Baroness (The Time Mistress Series) (31 page)

James went to get his mother a glass of water and, as he left the room, subtly gestured to Nick, who gathered Cassandra in his arms, gently rocking her. She cried on his shoulder until she was spent. James returned with the glass of water and lightly stroked her hair until she looked up at him. There was no doubt now of the impact of their visit.

Still, there was one more thing both she and James had to consider in their research. Cassandra took his hand and pulled him back down into his chair.

“James,” she began, taking a breath to clear her thoughts, “have you looked up your own name yet in the records since you’ve been back?”

“Yeah,” he replied. “I had to. I was dying to see what the newspapers said about my escape.” He grinned at Nick.

“It’s serious, James!” his mother admonished him. “Fortunately, it doesn’t look like their knowledge of the event adversely affected any of our acquaintances. Quite the contrary, as a matter of fact, but I want to know if you had an impact otherwise—in London, or on the poor police captain, for instance.”

“No, Mom, not that I can see. Here, I’ll show you.” He called up his name in conjunction with the year 1820, and there was the article that Cassandra had read in the Times while in London, and several others after the escape—all very sensational. The mystery was marveled at in the papers for two weeks after the event. But the three scientists noted with interest that the police never revealed the disappearance of the music device, probably they were too embarrassed.

Both James and Nick had read the irate letter from Lady Charles that Cassandra kept for her documentation, and Cassandra began to think about it now more than she had for some time. “You know,” she remarked, “I feel I’m coming to a conclusion about the success of my experiment, and it’s not a positive one.”

“What?” Nick and James both exclaimed, overlapping. “What are you talking about?”

“Well,” she continued calmly. “First of all, I…we,” she glanced at James, “obviously affected the past and altered history.”

“Well, yeah, somewhat,” admitted James.

“But for me, more personally, the issue is that I was not successful in fitting in with the people and ways of the time, and therein, I feel I failed in my experiment.”

“What do you mean?” exclaimed her son. “You were loved my many people, accepted as a friend by many, you made someone fall in love with you.” He glanced at Nick. “You were valued by the lower class as a wonderful patron. How is that not success?”

“I appreciate what you’re saying, James, but people still regarded me as an outsider, in particular Lady Charles. For all her faults, she was really the most perceptive. She knew there was something inherently different about me—something more than being an American. She thought it was something… well, paranormal, for lack of a better word. She was right—I was from the future, for God’s sake. And because of my oddness, I alienated her.”

“Mom, I was the one who did the damage. I was the one who brought the PAL. If anyone sabotaged your experiment, it was me.”

“My love,” she replied, “I will not let you feel guilty about that. This was my experiment, and I take the responsibility for it. The fact that I failed to properly fit in stirred Lady Charles’ ire before you even arrived. Not to even mention the fact that Nick here knew I was a time traveler, practically from the moment I walked through his door.”

“Well, now, that’s different,” chimed Nick. “I was able to recognize the signs of a time traveler because I am one.”

“Look, don’t get me wrong,” continued Cassandra. “It goes without saying that a failed experiment is just as valuable as a successful one. I learned something here for scientists to benefit from in the future.”

“Of course,” Nick agreed. To James he said, “You and I have yet to analyze the success or failure of our journeys.”

“Well, mine was pretty much analyzed right here today,” James said.

“Yes, but you still need to combine your perspective with the result,” added his mother.

Feeling emotionally weary, they decided to quit for the day. James took his leave to go spend time with some of his friends. Nick asked Cassandra if she’d like to get some dinner, and she realized she was starving. They went to a good seafood restaurant nearby that she knew of, for that was the food she had missed the most during her time in the past—fresh shellfish didn’t make it much farther than the port towns in those days.

Cassandra was exhausted from thinking about her own time travel experience, so as they sipped their wine and waited for their food in the candle-lit bistro. She decided it was finally a good time to ask Nick why he had once made the decision to journey to nineteenth-century England, presumably to stay forever. She didn’t need to ask, for before she could inquire, he began the conversation himself.

“You asked me once why I had traveled to old England and stayed so long. I think it’s time to give you an answer.”

“I would love to know,” she replied, “but I didn’t want to pry.”

“Well, it’s not a happy story, nor one I like telling. But I want you to know my reasons.” He picked up a piece of bread and put it on his plate. “Back in the 2080s, I formed a chronology team of my own. I had just completed my PhD at MIT, studying under Carver.”

“Really!”

“Yeah. It was when he was still teaching, before he had a team. I admired him immensely. But he was too slow for me, too cautious. I was young, you know, still in my twenties, and I thought I knew everything.”

“I know someone like that,” she said, chuckling.

“Yes, exactly. And to make matters worse, I was heir to a huge fortune. My parents are among the wealthiest people in the world, I’m somewhat embarrassed to say.”

Cassandra thought for a moment. “Stockard…wait a minute not
the
Stockards.”

“Yes,” he laughed, “
the
Stockards”

“Goodness,” she murmured raising her eyebrow.

“Wealth, combined with youth, made me cockier than I deserved to be. I gathered around me several brilliant scientists and built a laboratory of state-of-the-art equipment, and we rushed to beat Carver to the breakthrough.”

“He beat you, though.”

“Yes, he did. But as I told you before, we weren’t far behind, with just enough of a difference in our methods so that we couldn’t be accused of stealing from him. It didn’t really matter, because each person on our team had signed a nondisclosure agreement, and we didn’t plan on telling anyone what we were doing anyway. We just didn’t want to be under the scrutiny of the scientific community. As it turns out, we should have been more cautious.”

“What happened?” Cassandra asked with trepidation.

“Well, first of all, I fell in love with and married one of my colleagues. Her name was Nagla Sumeria.”

“That doesn’t seem so bad.”

“No, no, it was wonderful, she was wonderful—”

Nick looked down; Cassandra took a sip of water.

“Anyway, we took the same precautions as Carver, tested and retested the machine, but I was anxious to start traveling. I was the first one to make a trip. It was just a brief one, back to the 1920s to check out jazz clubs in Harlem. It was successful, so we started planning longer ones. My wife was of Egyptian descent and wanted to go to ancient Egypt, but just for a short stay, just to get a taste of it, because it was a very volatile time. I was against it, but she eventually persuaded me. My problem was that I couldn’t go with her to help keep her safe. As you know, time travel is usually done solo, but there was no way I would send a woman back to that time period alone. However, as a white man, I just simply could not go. Nobody existed there who looked like me; I would stand out like a phantom.”

He buttered his bread, took a bite, and chewed it. “So another scientist on the team, an African American fellow, offered to go. Using anthropological and archeological studies, we determined that they both looked enough like the ancient Egyptians to get by without undue notice. Well, we were wrong.” Nick took a gulp of wine. “We set up the portal exit on the outskirts of Alexandria, using ancient maps to assure that it was in a remote area. But when they walked into the city, looking like travelers, they were soon seized and thrown in jail. Apparently they were of the wrong race to be seen together as man and woman. We had taken so much care with the costumes, the hair and jewelry, and all the other details, but we just didn’t know enough about the cultural taboos.”

“Oh my God, what happened?” asked Cassandra.

“They killed my wife.”

“Oh no!” cried Cassandra.

“Yes, and they sentenced our friend Rodney to slavery.”

Just then the waiter came and delivered their salads. They both sat staring at them.

 “Fortunately, Rodney was able to escape within just a couple of days and made it back to the portal exit. We could not recover Nagla’s body, though. I don’t even know what they did with her.”

“Oh, Nick, I…oh, dear God. I’m so, so sorry. It’s, it’s just beyond comprehension.”

“Yeah,” he said sorrowfully, picking at his salad. “At the time, I just wanted to kill myself. I felt fully responsible for her death. I scrapped my work, and the team went their separate ways. I just stumbled around through life for awhile and then decided that I couldn’t live in a world anymore that reminded me of her. So I gathered enough of the team back together to help me set up a temporary lab and one-way portal exit. I left for nineteenth-century England with a huge wad of money and my eighteenth-century cello. All I wanted around me was music, so I opened up the shop and played now and then at salons and private concerts. I kept a low profile.”

They sat silently for a few minutes, mechanically eating their salads.

“Why did you choose that time period in England?” Cassandra finally ventured.

“Because it was easy for me to fit in there. And there was no upheaval in the country. Actually, England was still fighting Napoleon, but I already knew the outcome. I liked the time period; most of my favorite music was written before 1810—a baroque fan.” He smiled. “I tried not to get involved with people’s lives. I had a few friends, some devoted servants. I thought I was happy. And then you walked in, and I had to suddenly reassess why I was there and what I was doing with my life.”

“Did you really know right away that I was a time traveler?”

“Pretty much. You were just so different. People must have really noticed you everywhere you went.”

“Yeah, they did. But as soon as I said I was American, they assumed that was it.”

“Well, it’s not like people in the past ran around thinking that people were visiting from the future.”

“No, just you. Nick,” she said, pushing her salad away, “it’s horrible about your wife. I can’t imagine! And when I think how close I came to having James shipped off irretrievably to nineteenth-century Australia !” She shuddered.

“It’s riskier than we think. We’re scientists. We think we’ve got it all under control. But,” he said thoughtfully, having a drink of wine, “it’s been a long time since Nagla’s death. I’ve had enough time to deal with it, and I’m ready to move on with my life.”

She was staring down at the ruby ring on her finger. She glanced up at him and smiled. “You know I’ll always be in your debt for rescuing my son.”

“The debt is mine. You rescued
me
. I couldn’t tell you this before, but that day we spent together at Benedict’s house really stayed with me. I couldn’t stop thinking about you after that, and not just because I knew you were a time traveler.”

She caught the significance in his eyes. At that moment, the waiter appeared with their lobsters. They dove into them wholeheartedly, cracking the shells, pulling out the meat, dipping it in the melted butter, and savoring the rich flavor.

They happily ate for several minutes, commenting only on the food and the wine. Nick spoke again. “I was wondering if you would mind telling me about how Franklin died.”

Cassandra looked up from her food with a start.

Nick continued, “I almost asked James, but it just didn’t seem appropriate. It thought I’d wait and see if you were willing to tell me.”

Cassandra stared at the hull of lobster on her plate.

“I’m sorry,” he said hurriedly. “I’m being nosy. Let’s talk about something else.”

“No,” she said with hesitation. “I want to tell you.”

Nick sat quietly, his wine in his hand.

“He traveled into the future,” she stated simply.

“Oh,” said Nick with understanding.

“He did it against Professor Carver’s wishes and without his permission. Without mine, either. He snuck into the lab one night, eight years ago, set the coordinates himself for two years into the future, went, and came right back, having preset the travel mode to receive him. He felt sure that he’d only go into the lab of the future, not even step out of the portal, and return immediately. He did. He told me about it afterwards, and I was angry, but, frankly, curious myself.”

“I certainly would have been,” Nick commented.

“But as we now know,” she continued, “traveling into the future disrupts the body’s DNA at a cellular level. At that time, we hadn’t seen the results in the test dummies, because it took a couple of years for the mutations to develop. But not long after Franklin took the trip, the test dummies showed signs of cellular degeneration. Our scientists, as well as a team of doctors, tried and tried to find the cure before Franklin developed them, but they had no success. They kept him out of pain, but that was all they could do.”