“Don’t get me wrong—people still learned about subjects beyond their occupation. We still had hobbies and avocations. But we all knew the general route to our primary destination when the journey began, and we didn’t regret the destination, nor did we have any desire to change it. After all, our genetic makeup ensured that we would be far better at our jobs than anything else we attempted—and far better at our jobs than others, who did not have that chosen gift, could ever be.”
“So everything you are was determined before you were born, by this… enhancement?”
“No. The only thing that was changed before my birth was my chosen gift. I have some natural gifts from my parents—my mother could sing beautifully and I can carry a tune quite well. Like you, I have my father’s eyes, although you’re lucky—Harry’s eyes are far more striking.”
Connor leaned forward and squinted a bit, staring me straight in the eyes. “Very… green.” Unsure whether it was intended as a compliment, or whether Connor even bothered with such niceties, I simply nodded.
“I also have some residual effects from the chosen gifts my parents received. Like my mother, I’m good with computers.” Connor snorted derisively and Katherine amended the statement. “Or rather, I’m good with computers that are not centuries before my time. I am more than happy, however, to let Connor handle the archaic piles of nuts and bolts that he refers to as a computer.”
Katherine stopped to take a sip of her coffee and turned back to me. “I do understand your… concern… about free choice, but let’s set that aside for the time being, okay? I didn’t devise the society in which I was born any more than you devised this one, and I’m perfectly willing to admit that it has its flaws. The point I wanted to make is that the gifts of the parent—all gifts, chosen and natural—are passed along to the child. I inherited some from my mother, some from my father, and I acquired one specific, chosen gift that I passed on to your mother and that she clearly passed on to you, given your reaction to the medallion.”
I was getting increasingly confused. “But Mom can’t see the light on the medallion.”
“That doesn’t mean the trait isn’t there. It’s just recessive. It might not even be the reason she’s interested in contemporary American history. She was exposed to it enough through Jim. He was one of those professors who always had historical anecdotes on the tip of his tongue. In your case, however, the trait is dominant.”
“Why do you think that?” I asked. “Just because I can see that blue light? I mean, I like history, but I like a lot of subjects. I haven’t decided what I want to do. I could just as easily settle on math, you know—or a foreign language. Or law.”
“It’s not just a matter of interest, Kate. For many of the specialized trades and professions, a chosen gift—the genetic ‘enhancement,’ as you call it—carries with it the ability to operate specialized equipment used in that profession. I saw you in the kitchen yesterday. You were born a CHRONOS historian, whether you want to be or not, just as I was.
“I won’t bore you with all the mundane details of my job,” she continued, “but unlike your mother, who must study her field through documents and artifacts, I traveled to the sites where history was made. I specialized in women’s political movements, mostly American, mostly nineteenth century, although I took a few side trips into the twentieth century to follow long-term trends. I learned history by watching Susan B. Anthony, Frederick Douglass, and Lucy Stone argue, both publicly and privately, while I was disguised as someone from their era.
“In order to ensure”—she glanced at Connor and made a wry face—“or at least try to ensure the sanctity of the timeline, CHRONOS allowed only a limited number of historians. There were thirty-five active historians when I joined in 2298. I took the place of the thirty-sixth, who was retiring. This key is the portable unit that allowed us to return to headquarters when our research was complete. And the diaries were our link in the field—a quick way to get an answer to any question that hadn’t been answered in preliminary research.
“The important point for now,” she said, “is that the altered gene structure allowed me—and through inheritance, allows you—to activate the CHRONOS key. Or the medallion, as you call it. When I was in training, I would hold the key and eventually ‘see’ the surroundings of the set coordinates to which I would be transported. There are a certain number of destination points on each continent, established in areas that we know have been stable points throughout the period we’re examining. For example, one stable point in this area is a corridor in the Senate wing of the U.S. Capitol that escaped destruction in the War of 1812—it is a geographic stable point between 1800 and 2092.”