Timebound(45)

I noticed a gradual shift in the entries by early spring. Tapping the page three times, as Katherine had done, I pulled up the icons again. Once I had adjusted the volume, I pushed the play button on an entry registered as 04202305_19:26. The hum began again and then the words on the page shifted downward, making way for a small video window, like a three-dimensional pop-up ad. I could see a small, clear image of a young woman—pretty, with delicate features—seated at a desk, with a hairbrush in her hand. She was wearing a red silk robe. There was a bed in the background, piled with clothing that appeared to have been dumped from a large brown traveling bag.

The woman’s long hair, which was still damp, was a honey-colored blonde. The blue eyes were familiar, as was the voice when she spoke, and I realized that I was looking at a much younger and very annoyed version of my grandmother.


We’re back from the meetings in Boston. It was very nice to be able to take a decent shower and wash my hair after over a week of nothing but sponge bathing. Saul…


The younger Katherine looked over her shoulder at a door, and then continued.


Saul is at the club again. God, how I hate that place. He always wants to see Campbell and his other Objectivist Club buddies first thing after a jump these days. He didn’t even bother to come home first.

We had an awful fight in Boston and I don’t know what in hell he thinks he’s up to. He’s likely to get both of us kicked out of CHRONOS, but of course he doesn’t think that anything he’s doing is any of my business.

He was actually at the podium—at the damned podium!—when I entered the auditorium. I wasn’t supposed to be there. I was supposed to be at a meeting of the New England Woman’s Club where Julia Ward Howe was going to be honored, but they rescheduled the meeting because Howe was ill—and wouldn’t it have been nice if they had mentioned that little fact in the newspaper accounts CHRONOS gave me?

So… I walked back to the church where Saul was supposed to be attending an annual meeting of Congregationalist ministers. He should have been observing—blending, for God’s sake—but no. He’s at the front, leading a discussion about prophecy and miracles. Several of the more practical ministers in the audience were looking at him as though he were mad—and maybe he is. The others were hanging on his every word, like sheep, so I think maybe he did something—something against CHRONOS rules, no doubt—to get their attention.


She stalked away from the camera at that point, and I could see her back as she dug through a pocket in the traveling bag and pulled out a small opaque bottle with a label that I couldn’t make out. Katherine shook the bottle at the camera.


And this… I was looking for his tooth powder, since I forgot to pack mine and this was in his bag. Cerazine. Of all things. He knows we are absolutely forbidden from taking any out-of-timeline articles—including pharmaceuticals—on a mission. He knows better.

When I confronted him, he said that it was also prescribed for his headaches. How stupid does he think I am? Cerazine for headaches? That’s total bullshit. I looked it up just now and exactly as I thought—its only purpose is as an anti-cancer agent. That’s it.

Maybe his intentions were good. He mentioned before that he was pretty sure one of the ministers he’d met had skin cancer—I’m sure he was just trying to help. But he has to understand the risks… he can’t just…

And yes. I know, I know—I should write this up in my mission report anyway, regardless of his good intentions, or I should at least talk to Angelo about it. I know that.


The anger seemed to be draining away, and Katherine sat on the edge of the bed, her eyes closed. She didn’t speak for about twenty seconds, and then continued.


He swears it won’t happen again—he apologized for putting both of us at risk. He picked me the prettiest spring bouquet afterward. He just stood there, face like a sad puppy, with the flowers in his hand, saying how he’d been incredibly stupid and how he loves me so much.

And he does. I know he does. So I forgave him and we spent the rest of the day making up. Saul can make it really easy to forget why you were mad at him in the first place, until he does some other stupid…

I just wish he’d think before acting sometimes. He’s so impetuous, and CHRONOS rules are in place for a reason. He can’t just make an impromptu speech or give a friend a bottle of Cerazine—you never know what difference even a tiny change could make in the timeline.

I just wish he’d think…


The video ended, and I scanned a few more day-to-day entries before clicking on the visual for 04262305_18:22.