Shipbuilder (2 page)

Her eyes shot to his face and she regarded him doubtfully, but finally answered, “Casey. Casey Wilson.”

“Casey, I’ve been working on time travel for a long time, but I have to tell you, it’s still a big mystery. Never, never have I attempted to send a human back.” He rubbed his face, trying to think clearly. “My equipment is in the future. I needed a quantum computer and satellites to do the equations for this. I don’t have any of those things here. I don’t know if I can make them.” That might have been funny if he were in the mood for humor. As if he could build a computer or launch a satellite!

“What do we do?” Her voice was stronger.

“It’s cold,” he said. “We need shelter. Neither of us has any money printed before 1906, so we can’t just go to a hotel.”

She nodded, looking down the street. He watched her get control of herself, looking less frightened, and more like the girl who held him at bay with karate threats. He was impressed.

Her eyes narrowed as she spotted something. “Okay, come on,” she said, and took off across the square toward the church whose steeple was visible around the corner. Sam followed her without argument. She tip-toed to the back of the building and paused, looking around to get her bearings.

Sam caught up to her. “Where are we going?” he whispered.

She turned her head to speak through chattering teeth. “Everything looks different. But somewhere, there’s an entrance into a storage area near the rectory. At least we’ll be out of the cold for the night, and I am really freezing. Ah, there it is.” She slipped across the lot to a small door near the corner of the building. Before opening it, she turned to glare at Sam. “You saw I know karate. Don’t try anything.”

He rolled his eyes. “Please. I’m an old man.”

Doubt showed on her face. “You’re not that old. And I’m not an idiot.” She tried the handle. The door opened without sound, and they slipped through.

“Wow,” she whispered as it closed behind them. “I’ve never seen this much darkness in my whole life.”

Sam pulled out his penlight and turned it on. They were indeed in a storeroom, one filled with wine barrels, small furniture, and assorted boxes. He kept the light going long enough for them to settle into separate corners, then closed it and plunged them back into darkness. “It’s still pretty cold in here,” he said. “But better than out there.”

She
tskd
as she shifted around. “It’ll be bearable.”

“So you’ve done this before, Casey?”

“Yeah. Freshman year. Got caught out too late and missed curfew. I was with a couple of other kids who knew about this place.”

He smiled at her confession, remembering his own college years at Queen’s. “So you attend Queen’s? You sound American.”

“I do in 2006. I don’t think I’m enrolled at the moment.”

He ignored the sarcasm. “You major in horticulture? What year are you?”

She didn’t answer right away and he wondered if he was asking too many questions. She had no reason to trust him.

“I’m a junior,” she said at last. “And yes, I’m American. From Berkeley, California.”

“Berkeley? Why didn’t you go to Cal?”

“Because I grew up there. And I’ve wanted to live in Ireland all my life. I like it here. Your turn. Are you from Belfast?”

“Aye, since I was twelve. I went to Queen’s, too, although, as it happens, I did my postgrad at Stanford.”

“Oh, dear. Go Bears.” Her tone was light as she invoked the rivalry between Cal and Stanford. He laughed. “So where do you work?” she continued. “Who pays you to do irresponsible time experiments?”

No one, since they pulled the plug,
but he didn’t want to get into that. “A private consortium. Funding comes from several sources and I don’t really know what they all are. We’re just a crowd of scientists, playing around with our pet projects.”

“Sounds like something out of DC Comics,” she said. “You know, some private group of super-rich dudes supporting mad scientists in order to exploit their work, most likely not for the good of humanity.”

He tapped the wall behind him with his head. “That has occurred to me at times. But I never saw a problem, and it was nice to have research funds.”

“It always is, isn’t it?” He heard her shifting around again. “For the record, Dr. Altair, I don’t believe a word you’ve said. We’ll get a better look around in the morning and maybe you’ll have a new explanation then.”

He nodded, even though she couldn’t see him. “Sounds fair. Hope you get some sleep.”

“Yeah. You too.”

But neither one of them did.

Chapter 2

January 25, 1906

“I don’t believe this.” Casey stood on the street corner the next morning, staring in shock at the scene around her. The university she knew was gone. A few of the old buildings were still there, but the trees that grew in front of the Lanyon Building were missing. As she had noticed last night, there were no student apartments, no traffic lights, no stop signs. The streets were asphalt, but looked odd. After a moment, she figured out that the painted lines were missing, so there was nothing to indicate lanes. The curbs were bare of the long lines of cars usually parked along both sides of the street.

People were walking by, everyone dressed in dark clothes, the women in long skirts and big hats. Horses and carriages dashed through the streets, the horses leaving droppings everywhere, which the people ignored, except to step around them. The occasional car clattered by, but they were unlike any car Casey had ever seen outside of a classic car show. The stink of horse manure and burning coal marred every breath, forcing her to hold a hand over her nose as often as possible. It was familiar enough to be Belfast, the land was the same, the streets were similar, and off in the distance the cranes in the shipyard hulked against a gray sky. But it was a vastly changed Belfast.

She closed her eyes, and the city she knew sprang into her mind. She heard her friend, Jase, offering to let her sleep in the empty bed in his dorm room. “I’ve kept ye here ‘till bloody midnight, gettin’ me ready for the test tomorrow,” he was saying. “Ye know it’s not safe to walk home alone.”

She did know it. Her mother would kill her, if she found out. But she’d stayed in boys’ rooms before, and couldn’t face the mess. Besides, the bed was only empty because Jase’s roommate was with his girlfriend. Which meant
used
sheets on the bed. So she walked home through the garden, after promising to stay alert, and to call Jase as soon as she got home.

Shit,
she thought, opening her eyes to the unreal vision of dust and horses and long skirts around her.
Jase, her housemates, her best friend, Colleen, her parents. What had she done to them?

Trying to banish the guilty thoughts, she turned to the physicist, standing next to her on the corner. He was pale, staring at the scene. She cleared her throat. “Is… is this really 1906?” she asked. “Are you sure?”

He hunched his shoulders. “It looks like it could be. That’s the year I programmed.”

She took a couple of deep breaths, feeling sick. “What do we do, Dr. Altair? If this is 1906, what are we supposed to
do
?”

He sighed as he looked at her. “D’you have any idea how out of place we are? How conspicuous? The style of our clothes, the material they’re made of? Our money, our IDs, our gadgets, everything we have with us is an anachronism. I don’t know what we do.”

Casey studied him, trying to concentrate on one problem at a time. His clothes were casual: blue jeans, hiking shoes, a North Down Cricket sweatshirt with a hood, and a warm rain jacket over it that he should probably zip up, as the sweatshirt commemorated the winning back of the senior cup in 1981. He reminded her of any number of professors, older and genial, grey hair, dark glasses. Behind the glasses, his eyes were large and brown, the brows bushy. He was around six feet tall and thin, with a slight paunch. She guessed he was about sixty.

On impulse, she grabbed her cell phone and flipped it open. No service. The battery was charged, but that wouldn’t last long. She brought up a picture of Colleen, the one taken in their room as Colleen hugged her teddy bear pillow. The next picture was of her parents, taken during the Christmas holiday, over coffee in the kitchen at home. Tears stung her eyes.

“We’ll never get home, will we?” She struggled to breathe. “I’ll never see my parents again, will I? I was supposed to call my mom today after my test. What are they going to think, Dr. Altair? Have we just disappeared? Will they think we’ve been kidnapped and murdered, with our bodies buried somewhere and they never find them?” She blinked tears away. Her glance went back to the phone, then around her at the buildings and horses. People gave them odd looks, but didn’t stop. Turning to hide her movement, she closed the phone and put it away. Suddenly, it was very precious.

Altair’s expression was sad and guilty. He turned and walked back to the shelter of the church. Casey followed, and they leaned against the wall. “There is someone who might be able to help us,” he said with some hesitation. “A physicist who lived in Belfast at this time. I’ve used some of his work as the basis for my experiment.”

“Occupational hazard,” Casey murmured.

“What?”

“Occupational hazard,” she repeated, glancing up at him. “I guess if you’re a physicist trying to figure out how time works, you have to be prepared for wayward time travelers to show up on your doorstep.”

He smiled at the thought. “You might, at that.” He nodded toward the campus. “I don’t know where he lives, but he works there. I suggest we find his office and see if he’ll do anything for us.”

“Maybe he’ll give us tea and biscuits,” Casey said with some hope, as she followed him onto campus.

~~~

It took about thirty minutes, but they eventually found themselves in what was currently the science building. They stood outside an office door, a nameplate declaring it belonged to “Dr. Colin Riley.” Sam’s knock brought no answer, and a passing student informed them, “Won’t be here until 9:00. Not an early riser.” They both automatically looked at their watches. It was 8:47.

Casey quirked an eyebrow. “Amazing. You brought us a hundred years into the past and hit it to the second. We’d get jet lag if we flew to New York.”

Sam shrugged. “The time of day wasn’t one of my variables. Since I didn’t change it, it stayed constant. Why make things harder than they have to be?”

Casey nodded. Then, like students everywhere who are forced to wait for a teacher, she sank to the ground, sitting cross-legged on the floor, her bag on her lap. Sam shook his head and moved across the hall to examine the trophy case.

He ignored the curious looks they garnered, but he noticed Casey shifting around as if nervous.

Soon, she came to stand next to him. “All the students are guys.”

“It’s 1906, Casey. Not sure if Queen’s even admitted women at this time.”

“Queen’s has always admitted women. I guess none of them are taking physics.” She was silent a moment. “They keep looking at me.”

Sam turned to examine her. As he had noticed last night, she was small. Daylight revealed long, curly red hair and the greenest eyes he’d ever seen. Her hooded black cloak was wool, under it, she wore a brown sweater, blue jeans and black boots. He grinned, amused. “With that hair, you’re obviously a girl, but you’re wearing pants and sitting on the floor. Not things a lady does in this time.”

She pursed her lips. “I’m going to have a hard time here, aren’t I?”

A voice interrupted them. “May I help you?”

They turned. The speaker was middle-aged, not as tall as Sam, wearing a bowler hat and a black coat over a three-piece suit. He carried a briefcase and an umbrella, and had the harried look of a man who had just arisen.

Sam stepped forward, hand outstretched. “Dr. Riley? I’m Dr. Samuel Altair, this is Miss Casey Wilson. We were hoping to talk with you a moment.”

Dr. Riley indicated his office and went inside, tossing his hat and coat on a rack in the corner. Sam and Casey followed, standing awkwardly amid stacks of books and papers that covered the desk and several feet of the floor. “My class starts in half an hour,” he said. “Until then, what can I do for you?” He looked them over, peering at their clothes, then shrugged. He placed a kettle of water on a small cook stove before lighting the coal inside. “Would you like some tea? I have some extra cups here somewhere.”

While Riley rummaged among a cascade of slide rules, paper, and various scales on his shelf, Sam decided to talk. “We have an unusual problem, Dr. Riley. I believe you’ve been working with light in relation to the new theory of relativity published last year by Albert Einstein?”

Dr. Riley nodded, throwing some tea leaves into a pot. “I wouldn’t say I’m working on it. Haven’t actually seen the paper. Heard of it, though. Have you a copy, perchance?”

Sam exchanged a glance with Casey, before plunging ahead. “I’ve used some of your findings in my own work on time travel, Dr. Riley.” He hesitated as Riley turned to stare at him. The air seemed to turn to molasses, but he forced himself to continue. “I had developed an experiment to move objects backward through time. Something went wrong, though. Casey and I have been displaced in time, Dr. Riley. We were in the year 2006.”

Riley blinked, then nodded. “Kelly put you up to this?”

“Excuse me?”

“Dr. Kelly. Put you up to it. Do let him know I’m quite impressed, and will spend a few days on my rejoinder.”

Casey snickered. Sam glared at her, then in one quick movement, took out his cell phone and tossed it to Riley, who barely caught it. Riley stared at it, as Sam said, “No, Dr. Riley. Dr. Kelly has nothing to do with this. We can show you other objects, if you wish. We just arrived last night. Spent the night in a storage room. All we have are the clothes we’re wearing and objects like that. Things that are useful for life in 2006, but won’t do anything for us, here.”

As anachronisms go, Sam thought the cell phone would be fairly convincing. When Riley opened it, he stumbled into his chair, never taking his eyes off the screen. He didn’t move for a while and to Sam’s relief, Casey took the tea in hand, pouring the boiling water into the teapot to steep, then passing out cups. As she placed a cup by Riley, she tapped his hand. He looked up at her.

“You got any biscuits or anything? This time traveler’s starving.”

He opened his mouth, but couldn’t make a sound. So he just pointed at the top desk drawer and looked back at the phone. Casey glanced at Sam, who shrugged. He didn’t know quite what to do, either.

While she pulled out a pack of biscuits, Sam held out his hand for the phone. Riley gave it to him without comment. “It’s a phone,” Sam explained. “Has other functions as well, but basically, it’s a telephone. However, it requires a network to function and obviously that network doesn’t exist in this time. It’s also a camera,” and he pointed it at Riley who jumped at the flash. Sam pressed a button and held the phone up for Riley to see, noting that color could actually drain from someone’s face.

“What… what do you want?” Riley asked, his voice a terrified whisper.

Sam spread his hands out. “Just assistance, Dr. Riley. You see, I can’t get us back to our own time. We’re stuck here. We don’t have clothes or money or any way to get them. At the very least, we could use some advice.” He pointed at Casey, who was staring at the biscuit in her hand. “This young lady is an innocent victim. She walked into my experiment by accident. She’s lost everything, Dr. Riley. Her family, her friends, her world. So have I.” He paused and smiled in apology. “We don’t want to burden you, but you’re the only person I could think of who lived here at this time. Would you be willing to help us?”

Riley’s mouth opened and closed a few times. On his fourth attempt, he managed, “Wait here,” and then he was out the door. Sam and Casey stared at each other, bewildered. They waited, sipping their tea. Neither felt like talking.

~~~

Riley was back in twenty minutes, bearing a tray of bread and jam. As he put on more tea, he explained, “Had my assistant take my class.” He sat down, shaking his head. “You could knock me over with a feather, Dr. Altair. I don’t know what happens with time theory between now and 2006, but I can guarantee we aren’t even close to time travel right now. It’s all thought experiments.”

Sam nodded. “I understand. We’re just at the threshold in my time. No one was more surprised than I, when this experiment actually worked.”

“I’ll have to give this some thought, sir. But I don’t mind telling you, this scares me to death. People from the future? What will your presence do? Now that I have knowledge of you, how will that affect my research?” Riley stared hard at Sam. “I’m tempted, sir, to just send you both away. Whatever you end up doing is up to you. I can’t control you. But I’d prefer it if you stayed out of my life.” His jaw worked with tension for a moment as he glanced at Sam’s cell phone, still on his desk.

“However,” he continued, with a glance at Casey, who looked ill and disturbed, “I can’t just ignore fellow humans in need. I’m not clear on what my responsibilities are. Should I work with you to see if we can send you back?” His intense stare turned back to Sam. “Is that possible? If you and I work on this, can you figure that out? Can you build another time machine to take the two of you home?”

Sam sighed and stared at the ceiling. “I doubt it, Dr. Riley. In 2006, I have technologies at my disposal that are necessary to build and run the time machine. None of that is available now. And we’ve never figured out the mechanics of time travel. Once we moved backward, it’s not at all clear what happened to the future. Is it still there, where we left it? Where was that? Are we in a tangential or parallel universe? You see, I have no idea where to aim for.”

Riley nodded. “Yes, I do see. And I assumed it would be something like that. Hence, your need for shelter and food.” He turned to Casey, his gaze critical. “And proper clothing.” He turned back to Sam. “Perhaps employment as well. Do you concur?”