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CHAPTER 14

I beg you, dear sisters, to believe in the Goddess.  For as long as you do, you are nobody’s fool.

- Thalsha
"A Matron's Tale"

 

            Etyiam looked up from the calculations she was studying when she heard someone enter Sarwin's office.  She couldn't decide which ached worse from her study; her eyes or her brain.  But the pain of both vaporized immediately when she saw it was Sarwin who entered the room.  She sat up straight, shrugging off the slouch that the weight of hours of concentration had impressed upon her shoulders.

            "How long have you been here?" he asked, approaching her, "You were here when I left before breakfast this morning.  It's well past dinner time now!"

            Etyiam opened her mouth to reply, but instead of coherent speech, a long cavernous yawn emerged from her mouth, which she could not contain despite her best effort.  Embarrassed, she hid her gaping maw with her hand and when the yawn finally passed, after what seemed like minutes, she regarded her new boss and mentor sheepishly.

            "It is that late then?" was all she could muster.

            "Yes, it's that late," he said, "Can't you see how dark it's become outside?  Have you eaten yet?"

            "Eaten?  Yes sir, I had a sandwich from the commissary just a little while back."

            "The commissary has been closed since lunch time," he said, "You haven't eaten in hours then."

            "That long?" she asked, trying to sound surprised, even as her belly growled in consensus with Sarwin.

            "Yes, that long," he replied.  He looked around his office.  The unfathomable mess of papers that had seemed to leak from every surface and bin in the place when he left this morning was now transformed.  Carefully stacked piles of paper now stood where heaps of it had been strewn before.  He could see that they were now organized and categorized, and the paper took up much less space now that it was neatly stacked.

            "My, my," he said, looking around in disbelief at his new and seemingly much larger office, "This is some piece of work you did today.  Thank you Etyiam.  There was no need to do it all at once though.  I appreciate your dedication, but there was no need to kill yourself on your first full day in my employ!"

            "Not at all, sir," she said, "I was my pleasure to help.  I felt badly that I could not stay as late last night as I had hoped.  I had an appointment of my own I had forgotten about.  I really do enjoy such things."

            "If you say so," he replied, "I could never manage this mess.  You are more clever than I."

            "Most certainly not, sir," she disagreed politely, knowing her intellect was not a quarter of his.

            "What is that you're studying there?" he asked, pointing to the book opened in front of her, "They look like some of my calculations."

            "Yes sir," she replied, a little uncomfortable, "I came across them while organizing your things and was curious to have a look.  I should not pry thus.  I apologize.  I shall look no longer."  She began to close the book.

            "No, no." he said, "I don't mind at all.  In fact, I encourage you, or anyone for that matter, to study new things.  There is no such thing as knowing too much.  I'm just amazed you would have any interest in this inscrutable subject."

            "I wish to understand this time-travel of yours," she said, "I do grasp the general concepts, but some of the details are still very confusing."

            "Trust me," he said, smiling, "They are confusing to anybody, present company included.  Traveling through time is the ultimate paradox.  To make it real takes a metaphysical vision of physics."

            "Indeed," she said, looking down at the pages of hieroglyphic formulas spread out before her.  One arcane equation was nested within another, and another, and another, "You are a genius to have conceived of this, sir."

            Sarwin waved his hand dismissively.  "Bah...  I've just got my brain screwed in sideways, so I see things a little differently than others before me have, that's all."

            Etyiam smiled at her boss.  But it was more than the smile of appreciation for a minor jest.  Perhaps the quip had pried the smile from her lips, but it was the kind of grin that is brought on by new and untested feelings that are exhilarating, yet also terrifying, to any adolescent.

            "You've got to be starving," he offered, "I am too.  Why don't we grab a bite to eat?"

            "I would like that, sir."

            "Call me Sarwin."

            Etyiam smiled again.  "I would like that...  Sarwin."

            "Great," he said.  He picked her coat off the rack and handed it to her.  "I know a good place to go."

            About an hour later, Sarwin walked Etyiam to the tram station.  They had had a nice, but simple, meal at a small restaurant Sarwin knew.  They had pleasant conversation and laughed much.  But they were serious too, and Etyiam seemed especially interested in Sarwin's theories of time travel.  He tried to explain it to her, as best he could.  Etyiam was bright, to be sure, but it was still like trying to explain calculus to a ten year old.  It wasn't her fault.  It took a special type of brain to grasp the nuances quickly.  Most brains couldn't grasp them at all, but Sarwin was sure that Etyiam's could.  Given time.

            He had paid the bill, even though it was customary for the female to pay.  But Etyiam was much younger than Sarwin and had little money.

            The sign at the station told them Etyiam's tram would be along in a moment.  His, a few minutes after that.

            "Sarwin," she asked, "I have another question about time travel."

            "If only all my students were so inquisitive!" he said, with a somewhat affected laugh, "What is it?"

            "You have gone into the past a number of times already."

            "Yes, I have," he replied, "But not very far.  Not yet.  That's not a question, though."

            "Have you not tried to go into the future?" she asked.

            "Ah," he said, pensively, "The future."  The smile disappeared.  The question seemed to trouble him.

            He looked down at his feet, as if they could provide the answer.  "You can't go into the future," he finally replied.

            "Why not?" she persisted, "I don't pretend to understand all the details of time travel, but I don't see why the equations can't run positive, as well as negative."

            "They just can't," he said, all but snapping at the girl.  He felt bad and wished he could take back the words when he saw the hurt look.

            "I'm not sure why, Etyiam," he offered, in an apologetic tone, "I just know they can't.  My hypothesis is that you can't go into the future because it hasn't happened yet.  There's just nothing to go to.  It may look workable on paper, but the universe doesn't always listen to paper."

            "I see," acquiesced the girl.  A tramcar pulled up to them and hissed to a stop.

            "Your ride," said Sarwin, gesturing toward the car with a nod of his head.

            "So it is," she said, "Good night then, sir.  I mean...  Sarwin."

            "Good night, Etyiam."

            The girl stepped onto the tram and the doors slid shut behind her.  Sarwin watched as it pulled away.  She watched him also, from the window, until distance robbed from each of them the sight of the other.

            When she was gone, Sarwin gazed down at his feet again.  The night had been pleasant, but their parting had troubled him.  She had asked him the one question about time travel he could not answer.  The question that burned in his mind and wouldn't go away.  The damnable date winked on in his brain again.

            Year 5456.  Month of Cartoth.  Day five.  Seventeenth hour.

            He hadn't told her the whole truth about it.  He hadn't confessed that he had, indeed, tried to go into the future and with some success.  But for some reason, he could not go far.  No matter how far into the future he set his calculations, he always ended up at the same instant.

            Year 5456.  Month of Cartoth.  Day five.  Seventeenth hour.

            No farther.  Not a microsecond beyond.  And as soon as he arrived at it, he was dashed back into the past, to the moment from which he had departed, without even time to see what occurred at that portentous dead-end moment.

            He realized that that fateful date was only a few months away now and it haunted him.  It was the date they had planned for his next expedition into the past.  Why couldn't he travel beyond that?  What was he missing?  The questions, and the date, spun around in his mind, like an annoying jingle that gets lodged in the brain and circles around the outside, mocking the consciousness within.

            Year 5456.  Month of Cartoth.  Day five.  Seventeenth hour.

            Sarwin heard a hiss and he looked up to see his tramcar had arrived.  The doors opened, the warm light within beckoning him from the dark chill of the night.  He stepped in and was whisked off toward home.  But the question followed him.  It always did.

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