"Nope."
"So he left her," Con said with sad finality.
Rick held Con tight as he looked suspiciously at Joe. "You've told us so many lies, why should we believe you now?"
"I only lied for your own good," answered Joe.
"And look where we are," said Rick.
"We don't have time for this!" said Joe. "You said we had a chance to survive." Rick stared at Joe, the distrust clear on his face.
"Look," said Joe, "I want to live. Don't you? Tell me where we need to go, and I'll get you there."
"Rick," said Con. "We can't give up, not if we have a chance. We have to go with him!"
"All right," said Rick. "We'll go."
The three of them raced down the beach. As they ran, Rick asked, "Are the others ready?"
"They're staying here."
"What?"
"They have their reasons."
They ran as hard as they could, too hard to continue talk-ing. When they reached the staff tent, they were out of breath.
"Rick," said Joe between gasps, "this is your plan. Tell us what we should take."
"As much clothing as you can," said Rick. "We should get cooking pots and utensils. Flashlights. Water containers. Blankets. Food. Con, grab your clothes from your room, then meet us back here." Con ran off toward her quarters.
"Pandit and James said to help ourselves to their stuff," said Joe as they pushed clothes into their duffel bags.
"Are you sure they won't come?"
"I tried my best to convince them. They won't budge."
"And Sara knows that 'returning in seconds' is just bull?"
"I explained it," said Joe, "but she wouldn't listen."
"You told her the opposite just before Greighton left."
"God help me, I did," said Joe. "Yet if I hadn't, Greighton might have balked. Then you and Con would have surely been shot."
"You're right," admitted Rick. "It's Sara's decision. I just wish it was different."
"Me too," said Joe. "Me too."
Rick began to go through James's things, pulling out shirts, pants, a sweater—anything that would provide warmth. He felt like a thief rifling the dead. He won't be needing them, he told himself. Somehow, that made him feel worse.
Meanwhile, Con was rapidly sorting through her clothes, trying to imagine what she would need in the times ahead. She tossed aside a delicate pair of dress shoes, a lacy top, and her brassieres. She kept the dresses for the cloth. As she stuffed her things in her bag, she couldn't help but wonder what she would be wearing in a year or two. Animal hides? Leaves? Will we become naked savages? All the prospects depressed her.
As she headed for the staff tent, she saw Sara with Pandit. Sara stared anxiously at the door through which Con's father had departed, silent tears streaming down her face. It was impossible to remain angry with her. Con had never seen anyone so forlorn.
"Sara, please come with us."
Sara turned and noticed Con for the first time. "What would John think? Coming here to find me gone?"
"He can't come back," said Con. "Didn't Joe explain?"
"What does Joe know about love? About devotion?"
"This isn't about devotion, Sara."
"You don't understand. John needs to find me waiting for him. I won't let him down." Con ached with pity for Sara. / do understand, she thought. / loved Daddy too. She remembered all the birthdays and holidays where she, too, had expectantly watched a door. Con also understood she could not help Sara, that trying to dissuade her would be an exercise of futile cruelty. She turned to Pandit, who had been silently watching the exchange.
"Pandit..."
"I will be staying with Miss Boyton."
"But..."
"I, too, understand something of devotion. She will not be alone, come what may." Con had to stifle sobs to say, "Good-bye, Sara. When you see Daddy, tell him I love him."
"I will, Constance."
"Good-bye, Pandit. Take care of Sara."
"Good-bye, Miss Greighton."
Con spotted James sitting in the dining pavilion, sipping coffee. She ran to him, and as she approached, he said, "Lovely morning, reminds me of the Serengeti."
"Don't tell me you're waiting to be rescued, too," said Con.
"Me?" said James. "No, I'm rather like Pandit. There are things I won't leave behind."
"What are you talking about?"
"This morning," replied James. "Rick says it will be the last of its kind for a very long time."
"Knowing what will happen, how can you stay here?"
"Knowing what will happen, why do you want to live in a ruined world?" replied James. "Can you really conceive of what you're fleeing to?"
James's question hit a nerve. When he saw Con's dis-tressed reaction, he immediately regretted asking it.
"I'm just too old to start over again," he said gently.
"I won't leave Rick," said Con.
"You shouldn't," James said. "He's a good man. You two take care of each other."
"We will."
"Then you'd better run along."
"Are you sure you won't come?"
"And miss this morning? Not for the world."
"Good-bye, James."
"Good-bye."
James watched Con run through the glade until she was hidden by the trees. Then he refilled his cup and recalled the sight of lions in the morning.
19
JOHN GREIGHTON SHIFTED UNEASILY ON THE BENCH AS
he watched the island dwindle below them. He had a fear of heights and the transparent craft around him offered no sense of security. The pulsating red symbols on the strange control panel made him nervous also. They reminded him of warning lights.
"Was it wise to leave Joe behind?" he asked Green. "Wouldn't it be safer with a pilot?"
"These probes run a predetermined course. Once Joe set the new destination, he was useless. Worse than useless, he was someone who could talk."
Greighton gripped the edge of the bench tightly. "Are you sure this is right?"
"A little late for that, isn't it?" said Green caustically. "What do you want? To be down there with your fiancee? With your daughter?"
"I was only asking if this was the right move. That kid might be fooling us."
"Oh, he was sincere, all right. Pistols do that to people. If he was lying, he would have cracked."
"How can you be sure?"
"I have some experience in these matters."
Green's words gave Greighton a chill. "So you weren't bluffing?"
"You're either with me or against me. He could have spo-ken to me first. Instead, he tried to work behind my back. I won't tolerate that. If your daughter hadn't interfered, he'd be gut-shot."
"She's always been willful, a real handful. My ex's fault."
"She'll be more docile after she's waited for you on that island."
"I'm not so sure," said Greighton.
"The sooner your research department solves our technical problems, the sooner you'll find out."
"Won't a rescue attempt be risky?" asked Greighton.
"Naturally."
"Then we should postpone any attempt until we're estab-lished in the eighteenth century." Green looked at his companion with new respect. "I see your point."
"I got where I am by knowing my priorities. It won't mat-ter to them when we set out to pick them up."
"That's true," said Green. More true than you know.
The probe continued to ascend until the island was but a dot in the wide expanse of sea. They were level with the mountaintops to the west when they stopped climbing. Un-like the other time machine, this craft did not halt in mid air. Instead, it began to travel south, following the coastline. Green was disturbed by this development, yet he was cer-tain Joe had not played him false. Hadn't he expected to be sitting beside him? Another change in plans, he thought. So far, the changes had not worked out badly. He still had a time machine and Greighton was firmly in his grasp. All the witnesses on the island were eliminated without any effort on his part. Only Ann Smythe and her assistant were left to be dealt with. To top it off, he doubted that Greighton would be overly upset when he discovered that a rescue of his daughter and fianc6e was impossible. Perhaps he already knew. Green watched the coastline sliding beneath him and relaxed. It's only a slight delay, he reflected. Fortune's been running in my favor.