Fate (Wilton's Gold #3) (33 page)

Jeff watched them walk away, realizing he’d bumped into enough versions of himself that it wasn’t even anything of wonder anymore. Knowing what must have been going through his other self’s mind at the time based on Erica’s retelling of the story to him, he thought everyone had handled the interaction quite well.

As they were destroying the contents of the lab, it had plagued him that his best friend’s life had been changed so dramatically. In fact, he’d been the only one who’d suffered a setback from all of the time travel experiments, and it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. Especially when Dexter mentioned having a wife. Dexter Murphy was not the marrying type – in fact, Jeff wondered how that had even happened. Just like in the Benjamin Kane scenario, someone had been wronged, and while there was such a thing as time travel, there was an opportunity to fix it. He hadn’t wanted to ask Fisher for help – in fact, it was the last thing he’d wanted to do. Even though he himself was comfortable with putting the device through one more mission to see if he could restore Dexter’s life to normal. Fortunately, he’d kept it from Erica. He didn’t know that she’d understand why he needed to do it. But he would come clean with her now that it was done.

By his calculations, he’d just solved the problem. By stopping himself from preventing the fire that would now destroy the records house in three years, in theory, the museum would never be built, Dexter would never work there during college and would never become the director, and he’d never get married and buy a house in suburban Philadelphia. He would be back to being a stubbornly single historian and professor at Columbia. Just like Jeff liked him.

That was in theory. He knew from experience that he could never predict with 100% accuracy how things would end up. He laughed as they disappeared down the street, though. From Erica’s story as she’d told him sitting in the Sierra Nevada forest, they had a long road ahead of them.

Once they were gone, he made his way down the street and into an alley that still existed in his present day, where Agent Fisher, dressed as close to an 1830s commoner as Jeff could get him without Dexter’s assistance, was waiting for him.

“Did you do it?” Fisher asked him.

Jeff nodded. “We’ll see when we get back, but the situations that caused all of the changes to Dexter’s life has been rectified.” He pulled the last remaining time device from his pocket. It was his original, the metal stick without the bells and whistles of its future iterations. It had been through a lot, but somehow it kept working. When he’d created it, he had never intended for it to get the mileage it had gotten. Very good construction. Though he stopped when he noticed Fisher looking wistfully out past the opening of the alley, thinking. “What is it?” Jeff asked.

The agent half-shrugged, with a guilty smile on his face. “Can we walk around for a bit?”

“Really?” Jeff asked, laughing, though Fisher’s enthusiasm didn’t surprise him. He’d been through the same irresistible scenario with brilliant scientists, renowned historians and an elite Russian spy. In one possible future, people would pay over a million dollars a pop to see their favorite time periods for a few hours. Time travel was exciting, there was no denying it. “It’s against my better judgment,” he said, “but okay. Half-hour, max.”

Given the permission, Fisher inched out into the street with Jeff following. They quickly intermingled with the people on the street and became anonymous in the crowd.

Since this would be his last time travel trip, as they walked Jeff took a few moments to consider what he’d accomplished. Like the Russia mission, it was something he could never take credit for. But there was a small group of them that would know, and they would stay close. With Emeka and Abby, he’d built a great relationship. Dexter was his best friend who would share a lot of his memories, but would never know what happened here. Agent Fisher? He had no idea if he’d ever see him again, but had a feeling they would be forever connected. And Erica... The woman who time travel had created... After they’d destroyed the lab, she’d headed back to San Francisco to pick up where her life had left off. Jeff knew that once he returned to his present time, the distance between them was something he wasn’t going to let linger.

He pulled out the old school index card with coordinates on it and entered them into the device. Philadelphia of the 1800s dissolved from his vision and was replaced with the urban center of his present day.

Since Jeff hopefully had no friends in the greater Philadelphia area now, he made his way to his car and headed back to New York City.

October 4, 2015

Dexter hadn’t decided yet if he was going to miss the adventure of time travel. The change was too new.

On one hand, it was good to be back to work, sitting at his desk in his office at Columbia, looking out the window to the familiar view of New York’s Morningside Heights. He was trying to figure out how he was going to incorporate everything he’d learned from his time travel missions with Jeff into his existing body of work. Obviously, he couldn’t be blatant about it. But no other historian in the present time had had the opportunity to experience first-hand Colonial America, the Prohibition Era, and the California Gold Rush the way he had. There was a tangibility that he could now include in his studies that no reenactment could provide.

On the flip side, the thrill of discovering new eras in history was gone, and it was actually disappointing. Despite the fact that he believed in the morality behind what Jeff had done, like a spoiled child, he wanted what he wanted. He’d actually spent the morning going through his journal of possible “missions,” wondering what each of the next scheduled missions would have been like. What would they have experienced had they actually gone and interrupted the famous Willoughby diamond heist in 1951? Who would they have encountered if they’d been able to intercept the mob’s armored car full of cash before it crossed the Detroit-Windsor border into Canada in 1937? Admittedly and understandably, he was a little worried about that one... But there were so many other questions. How many gold coins had been lost forever during the Indian massacre at Fort Pearson in 1713? And what other destinations were there for them to explore? None of it mattered anymore, of course, but given what they’d already been through, it was enticing food for thought.

The book in his hand, housing all of their fantastical ideas for missions, was now a relic – one that had to be hidden from anyone outside of their circle forever. Probably, it should’ve been destroyed, but Dexter couldn’t bring himself to do that. The contents of the journal had had far too much impact on his life to just let it go. He would keep it under lock-and-key until the day he died. Then his wife and kids would have to deal with it. That was, if he decided to ever have a wife and kids.

He flipped through the diary until he found the instructions he had left for Jeff in case anything had happened to them in Colonial America. Thank goodness he’d had the foresight to do so. It was ironic, and he thought, a stroke of genius, to have Jeff seek out Erica to help him conduct a rescue mission. It had been the right move, as she’d performed admirably in leading him to the right place, time, and strategy. On top of that, at the party the other evening he could clearly see chemistry between them. Whatever had happened when they’d time traveled to the future must have been important to their relationship. He’d known Jeff a while, and though admittedly he’d been engrossed in his work most of that time, he’d never seen him look at a woman the way he looked at Erica. He knew that she’d gone back to California, but he hoped it worked out. Then he could proudly carry the role of matchmaker, and he’d be paid up for Jeff coming to rescue him.

He slid the book into the drawer he’d taken it from and locked it, hiding the key back in its place under the Abner Doubleday stein on his shelf. He considered that a safety deposit box would be more secure, and determined that sometime during the week he’d make the move.

There was a knock on his door and he looked up to see his friend Dr. Jeff Jacobs standing there, leaning in from the hallway. He smiled and stood to greet him. The two exchanged a handshake and hug like they hadn’t seen each other in years, though it had only been less than two days since they’d all dismantled Jeff’s lab together. He’d taken yesterday to himself, getting out of the city for a few hours up to Bridgeport, Connecticut, where he liked to go walk by the water and look at the boats to relax. He’d felt he needed a getaway, and yes, it was a getaway from Jeff, as well. But now, as they looked to the next chapter of their lives, it was good to see him.

Jeff took a seat in the visitor’s chair and Dexter sat behind his desk. “Back to the old grind,” he said.

Dexter nodded. “Yes, I have a class going. But it’s going to take some time to figure out what my next project is. How about you? What’s your next move?”

He smiled. “I’m going to California to get Erica.”

“I thought that might be it. You sure she’ll be welcoming?”

“Well, I won’t know if I don’t try.”

He nodded and smiled. “I’m sure she will. What next, though?”

Jeff sighed. “I have to get my other experiments up-to-speed, and quick. My next review is in January, and the GSA folks will actually be coming to my lab. Won’t be able to fudge this one. Or, at least, I won’t be able to fudge this one as much as I have in the past. The government has a knack for putting the wrong people in charge of things.”

“Fortunate for us,” he said.

“Yeah, for now.”

Dexter leaned forward on his desk. “How about the gold? And the money?”

Jeff adjusted himself in his chair, switching which leg was crossed. “The gold we’re going to give to the Smithsonian.”

“Give it?” While he didn’t think it was the wrong thing to do, he was surprised.

“Yes. With the stipulation that Erica gets at least one bar of it for her Gold Rush Museum. That’s got to happen.” He laughed. “We’ve got a truck full of cash. We don’t need to extort the Smithsonian for more.”

Dexter sat back again and held up his hands. “Hey, I’m not arguing with you. I just didn’t expect you to say that. What about the cash?”

“Well, you know what’s funny?” Jeff asked. “There’s a bunch of that money that hasn’t even been printed yet. So we can’t really use it any time soon, or put it in a bank or anything. So, my thought is, we’ll divvy it up and think of it as a retirement account that you can only tap into when it’s vested. Or when the money’s actually been printed. I do need some to replenish the till from my government grant, but then the rest – and there’s plenty, believe me – will be split among the team.”

“Any idea how much is in there?”

He shook his head. “Couldn’t tell you.”

“And you’re okay with doing this? Given your new-found understanding of the dangers of time travel?”

Jeff laughed. “Yeah. Had we only known... You know what? I thought about that. Of course it feels wrong what we did – we stole an armored car. But that money isn’t taken from anyone. All of the money in that truck over the next seven years will be earned and spent and traded and saved. And on whatever day it was that we took it, it’ll still be sitting there. If it had come from the past, yes, I’d have serious misgivings right now.”

“Your logic is sound, if a bit skewed. You’ve finally come around,” he said, laughing.

Jeff leaned forward. “Well, get this for skewed logic – I didn’t even take it. The other me did. The blood’s not even on my hands.”

Dexter pointed at him. “Might be the best point you’ve made all day. The unwitting beneficiary. I love it.”

Jeff shrugged. “It’s the best I can come up with. Plus, to make myself feel better, I’m going to start a science program at mine and Emeka’s high school. Get kids excited about science.”

“Well, that’s good of you,” Dexter said. Jeff nodded. “When do you leave for California?”

“The flight’s at 8 a.m. tomorrow.”

“Are you going to tell her you’re coming?”

“Does that sound like me?”

He shook his head. “No, but I thought maybe you’d come to your senses.”

“No chance.”

“Alright, well when you get back, let me know and we’ll get together and start going through that money.”

“No plans to get in the way of that?”

“None. No relationship, no family stuff, no lawn to mow, nothing. Just call me and I’ll be there.”

“Good. That’s what I was hoping would be the case. Dinner?”

“Sounds great,” Dexter said.

They left the office and had an enjoyable dinner at an upper west side seafood restaurant that Dexter chose.

The future paid.

October 5, 2015

Erica stood in front of her class and scrolled down on her tablet. The projection on the front monitor followed her movements as the class watched, each of her students ready to echo her notes onto the devices in front of them.

Today’s was not going to be the same kind of lecture as usual, though. She’d been thinking about it on the way to Stanford from her home in San Francisco, and while they were in the middle of a key piece of the curriculum, she wanted to challenge their minds in a different way. Of course, the impetus for the lesson was the way in which her own mind had been challenged, but there was no need to relay that to them.

She hibernated her tablet and the monitor to her left went blank. “Okay,” she said, “I’d like you all to close your tablets and laptops. We’re going to do a different kind of exercise today.” She watched as they followed her instructions, noticing some of her more cerebral students struggling with the concept of temporarily banning their technology. “We’re going to talk about time travel, and I’m going to turn this into a project for you. But don’t worry. It’s one that I want you to have some fun with.”

She stepped out in front of the desk and sat on the end of it. It was a comfortable pose for her to teach from, which made her wonder why she rarely did it. “I want each of you to pick an era in American history that – if you were able to time travel – you would choose to visit. Now that’s an easy question that you probably play with your family while you’re on a road trip. But I want you to take it to the next level. It’s not about what you would be able to see there. Or experience there. I want you to think about what you would want to learn from the people that lived there. Yes, take away all of the pitfalls of time travel – about interacting and causing changes, going back to give your grandfather the plans for the internet. We’ll just assume that all of you are of pristine enough character to behave.”

A few chuckles went across the room as the door to her right opened, interrupting them. Simultaneously, the students all turned their heads to address the interloper, and Erica followed suit.

Standing in the doorway was Jeff Jacobs.

She was caught completely off-guard, which was probably what he’d wanted, and she knew that the smile on her face would be giving away exactly how happy she was to see him and how touched she was that he’d actually taken the trip to see her. Her heart was pounding in a way that usually only came in the moments before presenting to a group of prestigious academics – or, of course, before ambushing a British Colonel to rescue a captured friend.

But Jeff simply smiled, gave a quick wave, and slid quietly into a seat near the back of the class. He leaned forward on his elbows onto the table in front of him.

Erica realized she’d not only interrupted the class, but she’d interrupted her own thoughts, as well. “Class, we’ve been joined by a good friend of mine, Dr. Jeff Jacobs, who is an astrophysicist from New York. New Jersey,” she corrected herself. She turned to Jeff. “Dr. Jacobs, we were just delving into a new assignment, where I’ve asked the students to choose an era in history that would be the most interesting for them to time travel to. Off the top of your head, any ideas?”

Jeff smiled at her and looked around the class. “Well, I don’t have the background in history that the folks in this room do,” he said, “but if I was handed a time machine with an open-ended invitation, I’d like to see the Egyptians building the pyramids.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said. “American history. We’re sticking to American history for this project, everyone. This
is
an American history class.”

“Oh, geez. Well then, I’ve always had a thing for the California Gold Rush. What those people went through in order to build this part of the country... Crossing some of the most treacherous landscape on the continent with no certainty that they’d find success at the end... That’d be something to experience.”

“Well, you know I like that answer,” Erica said, smiling. People in-the-know laughed. “Okay, here’s what I want you to do for two weeks from now: I want you to pick an era and a place – even better if you can pick an event in that era and make it more specific, but I understand that you may want to keep it broader. I want you to build a survey of the types of questions you would ask if you had the opportunity to sit down with the people living at that time and place. Think about the other history that’s going on at the same time – think about what we’ve already talked about in this class. Put yourself in the shoes of those people. If you go, as Dr. Jacobs suggested, to the California Gold Rush, think about the fact that, in ten years, the Civil War will begin for those living at that time. What’s happening that can foreshadow that? What’s just happened and how is it affecting the time you chose? Demonstrate your knowledge of the time period, and your understanding of how events and instances and people’s decisions in history are all linked.”

One of her favorite students, a Chinese woman named Li Huang, raised her hand. As much as Erica liked her, she was one of the clearly confused ones when the tablets had been ordered closed. “Are you talking about a paper?”

Erica shook her head. “Not necessarily, though it can be if you’d like. I want you to use your creativity. Write the script of your dinner with a family from that time period.” She was thinking off the top of her head, but the last thing she wanted people to do was get stuck within the confines of another paper. “Draw a comic book. Interview someone in period garb on camera. Just connect the dots for me in whatever way you think is the best to present your interpretations. Have some fun with it.”

A hand went up in the back of the room. She acknowledged Kyle McAfee, one of the middle-of-the-road students who did well when he was paying attention, but was usually focused on other things besides history. “Dr. Danforth, where would you go?”

She smiled again. “I’d probably go with Dr. Jacobs.” She looked over at him and thought he might’ve been blushing. “To the Gold Rush!” she added when she heard giggles. “Behave. He took my answer.”

The class laughed and she bid them a good weekend. The room emptied out quickly, though she did notice one of the students, Charlie Roberts, who usually kept very much to himself, stop to talk with Jeff on his way out. When everyone was gone, she stood and started to approach Jeff, but was interrupted when the door opened again.

She turned to see Dr. William Shepherd, Dean of the History Department, walk into the room. He glanced at Jeff still sitting at his desk, then turned back to her without addressing him. “Erica, do you have a moment?” he asked. The tone and the crackle in his voice was one of excitement he couldn’t contain.

“Sure,” she said, nodding. “What’s up?”

“We just received a five hundred thousand dollar donation to the School of Historical Sciences from an anonymous donor, who in the accompanying letter said that you were the reason for the decision to contribute. A cashier’s check. Could you shine some light on this for me?”

She tried to keep her face expressionless as best as she possibly could – she had no clue if she was successful. She shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe I gave a speech somewhere, or they saw my show...”

“I don’t know,” he said, “but well done. Very well done. I’ve got to go talk to the accounting department.” He walked away, but stopped in the doorway and turned back to her. “Lunch tomorrow at the Club. Lunch is on me.”

She started to say something, but the door swung closed. So, she turned to Jeff, who had now stood and was slowly walking to the front of the room.

“Dammit,” he said. “I was going to ask you to lunch tomorrow. He beat me to the punch.”

“Where’d you get half-a-million dollars?” she asked.

“How do you know it was me? You’re a very charming person.”

“Cash?”

He was smiling. “Cashier’s check, was what he said. I figured we could spare some to ensure that history is studied the way it should be studied – at academic institutions using written documents and word-of-mouth accounts.”

“That’s very noble of you,” she said. “Something I’ve been wanting to ask you that I’d forgotten about... I know that you, personally, didn’t go with me to 1831.”

“Right, that was another me.”

“Okay,” she said, sorting things out in her head. “But was it you that stopped us from going into the records office? In 1831?”

“It was, yes,” he said, leaning against the table in the first row of seats.

“I thought of that on the flight home. I was trying to figure out which version of you might’ve done that, and realized it was probably the most recent version. Then I tried to figure out why you did it.”

“Does it matter?”

She thought for a moment, then shook her head. “No, I guess not right now. But someday I’d like you to tell me. But when did you go back? It had to be after we returned from saving Dexter and before we destroyed all of the time devices. Unless... You didn’t have another device somewhere, did you?”

He smiled. “How about we talk about this over dinner?” He was trying to be romantic.

“No,” she said, not getting sucked in. “You had another device.” Even as she was saying it, her spirits were sinking. If he wasn’t done with time travel, there was no room for him in her life.

He shook his head and held up his hands to calm her. “I’m going to be honest with you. I used the device one more time, with Agent Fisher’s permission. I felt terrible doing it, but I used it to fix one bad situation that had been caused by previous time travel stupidity on my part, and now the device has been destroyed. There are no others.”

“With Fisher’s permission?”

“Yes. He understood the need when I explained it to him, and actually came with me to chaperone.”

“You guys are buddies now?”

Jeff laughed. “I don’t know how to answer that.”

“And now it’s gone? There are no more devices? You’re done?”

“It’s over,” he said, reaching out and grabbing her arms. His touch was firm, but somehow gentle. Masculine and caring. “Can I take you to dinner? Please?” he asked.

Was his answer good enough for her? She took a deep breath. It was for now, at least. She nodded her head.

He smiled and exhaled and let go of her. “Good. I’ve been looking forward to this.”

She started to pack up her things. “You know,” she said, “I’ve already had a very nice dinner with you in Times Square in the future. Sitting across the table from you won’t be a new experience for me.”

“Are you trying to make me jealous of myself?”

She smiled. “Is it working?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact,” he said, nodding and laughing. “I guess it’s up to me to show you that I’m the better man, then.”

“Well, let’s see what you’ve got. One rule, though...”

“There’s a rule?”

“I don’t want to talk about time travel on our second first date together.”

“So it’s a date?”

She smiled at him and walked out of the classroom.

Jeff followed her again.