Tom spread his hands. “I can honestly say we’ve never refused to hire someone because he was Catholic. But it’s true that, in general, the Catholic population doesn’t have the skills that we need.” He shook his head. “Then we get into the education problem. Truly, Sam, I think this issue is too big for even time travelers to solve.”
Sam held up an admonishing finger. “We can’t solve it all at once. But let’s approach it methodically and take what improvements we get, all right?”
Tom nodded. “It’s a start.”
Later, over tea in the parlor, Sam showed them the latest letter from Albert Einstein. As someone whose business benefited directly from the applications of recent discoveries made by physicists, Tom was quite interested in new theories, and Sam had mentioned that his research in time travel was based on the work of this Einstein. He was curious.
“You’ve mentioned him before, when you said your research was based on his theories. But I’ve never heard of him.”
Sam thought about it a moment. “It’s only 1907,” he pointed out. “His first batch of papers were only very recently published and I suppose they are not widely available yet.”
“The name sounds Jewish?” Tom asked it as a question, and Sam nodded.
“He is a Jew, although not a practicing one. He’s German, living in Switzerland at this time. He eventually becomes a Swiss citizen.”
“Ah, but that would explain why his work is not well known here,” Tom told him, a little sadly. “British scientists don’t collaborate much with German ones.”
“Long live King Isaac Newton?” Casey asked.
“Oh, Newton is still king,” Sam told her. “For a while longer, anyway. In another decade, it will be a British scientist who confirms Einstein’s theory about gravity. Then the crown changes heads.”
“You’ve been writing to him?” Tom asked, gazing at the several sheets of paper in Sam’s hand. “About the time travel?”
Sam nodded, a sheepish expression on his face. “I first wrote him just a few days after we got here. Honestly, I didn’t have an exact plan; I don’t know what I wanted him to do. Can’t say that I know, now. But he’s a great thinker, Tom. I guess it boils down to that. If anyone can figure out what I’ve done and what we can do about it, it will be he.”
Tom glanced at Casey, uncomfortable with the thought that came to him. “Will he be able to help you get back?” He felt lightheaded. Would Casey leave if she had the opportunity to go home? What right did he have to ask her to stay?
Sam was shaking his head as if trying to figure it out. “I don’t think so. All the data point to a separate timeline. The only connection it has to our original timeline is January 24, 1906.”
“What if you built another machine and went back to that time? Could you get back that way?”
Casey laughed and they looked at her, not sure what was funny. She held her hands up as if drawing something in the air. “Like there’s a nexus there. Maybe a time travel station: ‘Transfer here for the twenty-first century!’”
Tom felt bewildered, but Sam laughed. “If this becomes commonplace, I can guarantee some entrepreneur will build one!” But he shook his head again. “I don’t know if that would work. Who’s to say it would be our twenty-first century? But it’s the kind of thing Einstein is good at thinking about.”
Sam turned through the pages, all traces of laughter gone from his face. “The problem is,” he said, “Herr Einstein is pretty sure I’m a crackpot. He’s interested enough to consider what I tell him and keep the correspondence open. But he’s not going to say he believes that Casey and I have traveled back through time.”
“Have you told him about Titanic?” Tom asked.
Sam looked up. “Not yet. But I will soon.”
“Sam did tell him about the San Francisco earthquake,” Casey said. “In his first letter, before the earthquake happened. I suspect that’s why Einstein hasn’t just written Sam off as a complete nutcase. But he doesn’t know what to do with him.”
Tom smiled at her. “I know exactly how he feels.”
Under cover of Sam’s laugh, he reached over and took Casey’s hand, helping her to her feet. “I need to be getting home.” He shook Sam’s hand and Casey walked with him to the door. Lately, she had been trying to conduct herself in a manner more acceptable to proper society, so he was surprised when she slipped her arms around his neck. Her kiss was deep, her body scandalously close against him. Thought vanished in a swirl of emotion as he lost himself in her lips. When she pulled away he rested his forehead against hers, forcing his hands to remain lightly on her waist.
“I’m kind of glad no one’s figured out how to build another time machine,” she whispered. “I don’t want to have to make that decision, now.”
“I could never ask you to stay,” he said. “But I couldn’t bear it if you left. I love you, Casey.”
Chapter 18
March 1907
During her lunch break, Casey went outside to escape the heat of working in the tropical section of the glass Palm House. She ate on the lawn, with a partial view of the herbaceous border, and re-read a note from Tom that had arrived that morning. Especially the part that made her knees shake.
“My parents have invited you and Sam to dinner at Ardara, on Saturday. Will you come? I am so anxious for all of you to meet. It can only do my nerves good to have it done sooner rather than later!”
His nerves! She was going to be tried and judged, and she suspected the verdict had already been decided. She could never measure up to those people. Whatever had she been thinking to let this go so far?
She finished her lunch and stood to return to the Palm House, pausing when she recognized Mrs. Herceforth’s carriage on the nearby path. Casey grinned and waited. Mrs. Herceforth continued to sponsor their project, and since her private tour of the Tropical Section, had begun to take an active interest in their work. She stopped by frequently to look around, tell jokes, and chat with Casey, never failing to ask about any possible young men in Casey’s life. Casey had so far refrained from mentioning Tom. She suspected Mrs. Herceforth was just lonely and wanted company. But she suddenly saw an opportunity, and as the two of them walked back to the building, she plunged in.
“Mrs. Herceforth, may I ask your advice on something?”
“Oh certainly, dear. What do you need to know?” The old blue eyes twinkled; Casey supposed it was seldom anyone actually asked for advice.
“Dr. Altair and I have been invited to someone’s home for dinner this weekend. They are very well respected, and I’m afraid I’m a bit unsure of what I should wear. I’m certain I’ll need to buy something, but do you know of a good shop with appropriate dresses?”
Mrs. Herceforth leaned forward. “Are they wealthy, dear?” she whispered gleefully.
Casey blushed. “I think so.”
“Is there a young man involved?”
The blush deepened and she could only nod. Oh please, don’t let this be a mistake.
Mrs. Herceforth straightened, her face thoughtful. She looked Casey up and down, as if she were not already aware of what Casey looked like. Then abruptly she held out a hand, which Casey took with some hesitation.
“Can they spare you for a few minutes at the House? I have something to show you.”
Casey glanced at the students talking at the entrance. “I can catch up later, sure.” She wandered over to them while Mrs. Herceforth waited. “I’ll be gone a bit with Mrs. Herceforth. Will an hour be all right?”