"You poor, sweet, innocent child; you are too young to know. Surprisingly I slept well. Which brings us to yesterday, designated by strict numbering as Monday July seventh. Last night we spent catching up on our honeymoon... and thank you bolshoyeh, mistress mine."
"You are welcome, sirrah. But the pleasure was shared. I now see how you arrived at that date. Both by dirtside calendar and your biological clock-the basic clock, as every timejump-er knows-today is Tuesday the eighth of July. Happy Anniversary, darling!"
We stopped to swap some spit and Hazel cried and my eyes got watery.
Breakfast was swell. That's all the description I can give it because Gwen Hazel decided to treat me to Tertian cooking and consulted with Dora under a hushfield, and I et what was sot before me, as the Iowa farmer had carved on his tombstone. And so did Pixel, who had some specials that looked like garbage to me but tasted like ambrosia to him, as proved by his behavior.
We had just finished our second cups of-no, it was not coffee-and were about to slip over to the Long mansion for my "special treat," i.e., for me to meet my new daughter, Wyoming Long... when Dora spoke up:
"Advisory notice: Time line, date, time, and location. Official. Please prepare to set your timepieces on the tick." Hazel looked surprised, hurriedly grabbed her handbag, dug into it, pulled out a something I had not seen before. Call it a chronometer. "We are in a stationary orbit around Tellus, Sol in, in time line three, coded 'Neil Armstrong.' The date is Tuesday the first of July-"
"My God! We're back where we started! Our wedding day!"
"Quiet, dear! Please!"
"-Gregorian. Repeat: Time line three, Sol ID, July first, 2177 Gregorian. At the tick it will be zone five, oh nine forty-five. Tick! Those equipped to receive sonic close correction, wait for the tone-"
It started with a low note and squealed on up until it hurt my ears. Dora added: "Another time tick and sonic correction will be offered in five minutes, ship's time or Tellus zone five time, which are now matched for local legal time designated 'daylight time' for interception point on this time line. Hazel hon, private to you."
"Yes, Dora?" "Here are Richard's shoes-" (Plunk, they hit the bed. Out of nowhere.) "-and his other two suits-" (Plop.) "-and I packaged the small clothes and stockings with them. Shall I add a couple of jumpsuits? I took Richard's measurements while you slept. These aren't washables; these are Hercules cloth, won't take dirt, can't wear out."
"Yes, Dora, and thank you, dear. That's thoughtful of you.
I hadn't yet bought him anything but city clothes."
"I noticed." (Plop-another package.) Dora went on, "We've been loading and unloading all night. The last of the stragglers left at oh nine hundred but I told Captain Laz about your anniversary breakfast, so she refused to let Lazarus disturb you. Message from Lazarus: If it suits your convenience, will both of you kindly get off your dead duffs and report to THQ. End of message. Transmission from the bridge, live":
"Hazel? Captain Laz speaking. Can you two leave the ship by ten hundred? I told my hard-nosed brother that ten was the departure time he could expect."
Hazel sighed. "Yes. We'll leave for the car pocket at once."
"Good. Felicitations to both of you from me and Lor and Dora. Many happy returns of the day! It has been a pleasure to have you aboard."
We were at the car pocket with two minutes to spare, me loaded with packages and cat, and getting used to new shoes- well, one old, one new. I learned that the "car pocket" referred to our old friend Gay Deceiver; the end of a short passage led right into her starboard door. Again I missed seeing those spacewarp bathrooms; Hazel's grandsons piloted us, and we were told to take the back seats. Pol got out to let us get in.
"Hi, Grandma! Good morning, sir."
I said good morning and Hazel kissed both her grandsons in passing, no seconds lost, and we settled down and strapped in. Cas called out, "Report seat belts."
"Passengers' seat belts fastened," Hazel reported.
"Bridge! Ready for launch."
Laz answered, "Launch at will."
Instantly we were out in the sky and weightless. Pixel started to struggle; I caged him with both hands. I think it was weightlessness that startled him... but how could he tell? He didn't weigh anything to start with.
Earth was off to starboard, apparently full, although one can't tell that close up. We were opposite the middle of North America, which told me that Laz was a more than competent pilot; had we been in the usual twenty-four-hour orbit, concentric with Earth's equator, we would have been over the equator at ninety west, i.e., over the Galapagos Islands. I guessed that she had selected an orbit tilted at about forty degrees and timed for ten hundred ship's time-and made a mental note to check it later, if and when I ever got a look at the ship's log.
(A pilot can't help second-guessing every other pilot; it's an occupational disease. Sony.)
Then we were suddenly in atmosphere, down thirty-six-thousand klicks in a tick. Gay spread her wings, Cas tilted her nose down, then leveled off, and we again had weight, at one gee-and Pixel liked this change still less. Hazel reached over and took Pixel, soothed him; he quieted down-I think he felt safer with her.
With her wings raked in for hypersonic, the only way I had seen her. Gay is mostly a lifting body. With her wings spread, she has lots of lift area and she glides beautifully. We were a thousand meters up, give or take, and over farm country on a fine summer day-clear, save for anvil cumuli here and there on the horizon. Glorious! A day to feel young again-
Cas said, "I hope that translation did not bother you. Had I left it up to Gay, she would have put us on the ground in one jump; she's nervous about anti-aircraft fire."
"I am not nervous. I'm rationally careful."
"Right you are. Gay. She does have reason to be careful. The Pilots' Precautionary Notice for this planet on this time line at this year states that one must assume AA weapons around all cities and larger towns. So Gay blinks down below the AA radar-"
"You hope," said the car.
"-so mat we will show up simply as a subsonic private plane on air-control radar, if there is any. None, that is, where we are."
"Optimist," the car sneered.
"Quit hitching. Have you spotted your squat?"
"Long since. If you'll quit yacking and give me permission, I'll take it."
"At will. Gay."
I said, "Hazel, I had counted on getting acquainted with my new daughter about now. Wyoming."
"Don't fret, dear; she will never know we were away. That's the way to handle it until a child is old enough to understand."
"She won't know, but I will. I'm disappointed. All right, let's table it."
The scene blinked again and we were on the ground. Cas said, "Please check to see that you aren't leaving anything behind." As we got out and stood clear. Gay Deceiver disappeared. I stared through the space she had occupied. My Uncle Jock's house was two hundred meters away.
"Hazel, what date did Dora say this is?"
"Tuesday July first, 2177."
"That's what I thought I had heard. But when I thought it over I decided that I must have been mistaken. I now see that she wasn't fooling: '77. Eleven years in the past. Sweetheart, that ratty old barn there is standing where we landed last Saturday, three days ago. You wheeled me from there toward the house in Ezra's wheelchair. Hon, that bam we're looking at was torn down years back; that's just its ghost. This is bad."
"Don't fret about it, Richard. In timejumping it feels that way, the first time you get involved with a loop."
"I've already lived through 2177! I don't like paradoxes."
"Richard, treat it just as you would any other place, any other time. No one else will notice the paradox, so ignore it yourself. The chance of being recognized when you are living paradoxically is zero for any era outside your own normal lifetime... but usually only one in a million even if you timejump close to home. You left this area quite young, did you not?"