Connor added, “For now, we just keep one of the other keys on us if we need to go outside that perimeter. I’d like to add the entire yard to the safe zone, but that will require using a third key—and I’m worried that extending the protection that far could overload the system.”
“What do you mean—protection?” I suddenly flashed back to Kiernan’s question on the Metro. Why would she send you out with no protection?
“From the temporal distortions,” Connor answered. “Any thing and any person within these walls—or anyone wearing one of the keys—is not affected by a temporal shift. Katherine and I, for example, clearly remember that the second picture you saw is the correct one. It has been shielded along with most everything else in this house. But the first picture that you saw and… the people and things outside the protective area… have all been changed.”
“So why didn’t the first picture change back when you brought it here?” I challenged. “If this is, like, a safe zone, shouldn’t it show the reality you know?”
Katherine shook her head. “It doesn’t work that way, Kate. It wasn’t protected when the temporal shift occurred. Think of this as… a lead apron, like you’ve worn at the dentist. You’re shielded when the apron is on, but it isn’t going to undo any damage that might have been caused if you were exposed earlier. The documents we have here, that we’ve always been protecting—including the ones that are digitized on these servers—all of those are preserved. Anything that we bring in from the outside, however, might have been changed. Actually, it will have been changed, unless it was in constant physical contact with someone wearing a medallion. But it won’t be altered further once we have it here.”
“That… makes sense, I guess. Okay, I’ve seen…” I paused to count. “Five medallions, including the one Kiernan had. I’m assuming Simon… the guy who mugged me… must have one as well. Where are they coming from? Have you learned to replicate them?”
“No, the additional keys and diaries that we have here are ones that I’ve collected,” Katherine said, sitting down at one of the computer stations. “Before Prudence disappeared, I hadn’t expended much effort trying to track down what had happened to my former future colleagues—other than keeping an eye out for Saul, because he could have landed anywhere, anytime.
“After Prudence was gone, I locked myself in a room and spent the next several weeks trying desperately to get some sort of signal from the CHRONOS key. I think I came very close to disappearing into that void—that black hole is still the only thing I can see in the medallion.”
I hesitated. “Do you think that’s where Prudence went? Into that… black hole?”
“I thought it was likely, at first, although I didn’t want to admit it to myself. The other possibility was that Saul had found us and that he had taken Prudence. Either way, I was determined after that point to collect every single one of the remaining keys, because I didn’t want to think of anyone else disappearing in that fashion. Twenty-three CHRONOS historians were stranded and each had a key. Most, fortunately, were headed for relatively modern eras—only four were before the fifteenth century. Several were traveling as a team, as Saul and I had done often. Twelve were handling North American history—since CHRONOS is located in North America, there is a bit of a local bias. Six were in Europe and the rest were scattered around the globe.
“To date, I have located ten keys and a few diaries, in addition to the diaries that I had packed for my last jump. Many of the keys were passed along by family members as an odd heirloom, a strange piece of jewelry. Most people were eager to get rid of the things, which they believed to be haunted—either they or someone else said it glowed or moved, or it just gave them a bad feeling. One of the researchers who was investigating Nazi Germany—he actually destroyed his CHRONOS key and the diaries he had with him. I spoke with him briefly, just before he died, and he said he had not wanted to take any chances that they might be reverse-engineered by the Nazis, as highly unlikely as that might have been.
“In retrospect, he made a wise choice. Had I not known that Saul, wherever and whenever he was, would have no scruples about misusing the technology, I would have destroyed every single one I found. I’m glad I didn’t destroy them, however, because about three years after the accident, I noticed the first change.”
Katherine turned toward the computer and clicked a folder, and a file, and then an image opened. It was a scanned replica of a yellowed document with a list of names, separated into columns labeled Ladies and Gentlemen. Printed at the top were the words Woman’s Rights Convention, Seneca Falls, New York, 1848.