Time Travelers Never Die Part 54

The end crowns all, And that old common arbitrator, Time, Will one day end it.

-WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, TROILUS AND CRESSIDA TROILUS AND CRESSIDA

OCTOBER 1, 1950, was a pleasant, sun-filled day. A crowd had overflowed Ebbets Field in Brooklyn for the season-ending showdown between the charging Dodgers and the Phillies, whose seven-and-a-half-game lead, during the previous two weeks, had shrunk to a single game. 1, 1950, was a pleasant, sun-filled day. A crowd had overflowed Ebbets Field in Brooklyn for the season-ending showdown between the charging Dodgers and the Phillies, whose seven-and-a-half-game lead, during the previous two weeks, had shrunk to a single game.

The score was tied 1-1 in the bottom of the ninth, and the Dodgers had runners at first and second with n.o.body out when Duke Snider rifled a line drive single to center.

Down front in a box seat, Michael Shelborne stood up with the crowd. They They thought the winning run was coming home as Cal Abrams rounded third. But Michael knew better. thought the winning run was coming home as Cal Abrams rounded third. But Michael knew better.

Richie Ashburn threw a strike, and catcher Stan Lopata blocked the plate and made the tag. The crowd roared its disapproval, and somebody behind him said, "Hey, we've still got two on."

Michael leaned over, smiled at his son, and spoke under his breath: "It won't matter, kid."

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IN 1934, Helen sat on the enclosed deck of their recently purchased Cape Cod villa, looking out at the ocean, which was bright and sun-swept and looked as if it went on forever. Like time. This was a Helen that Dave would have been slow to recognize. She was thirty years older, and if she had aged well, she was nevertheless no longer the loose-limbed beauty he had known. 1934, Helen sat on the enclosed deck of their recently purchased Cape Cod villa, looking out at the ocean, which was bright and sun-swept and looked as if it went on forever. Like time. This was a Helen that Dave would have been slow to recognize. She was thirty years older, and if she had aged well, she was nevertheless no longer the loose-limbed beauty he had known.

There was movement behind her, and she turned to see Shel and his father materializing within a pair of auras. Shel had long since shed the beard.

"h.e.l.lo, Dad," she said. "How'd the game go?"

Michael laughed, gave her a hug. "As if you didn't know."

Shel handed her a box of popcorn. "For you, love," he said.

She kissed him. "Dinner in about forty minutes."

Michael looked out at the Atlantic. "What have you been doing all day, Helen?"

"Watching the kids." A sailboat was tacking with the wind. It was carrying two boys. Teenagers.

"The Kennedys?" Michael asked.

"Yes," she said.

Michael studied them for a moment. Joe and Jack. "It's good to see them enjoying themselves," he said.

EPILOGUE.

ASPASIA showed up for the Riverside Theater's opening-night performance of showed up for the Riverside Theater's opening-night performance of Achilles Achilles. She was accompanied by Rod Connelly, who was an instructor at the Starlight Dance Studio, and by Harvey Barnard and his wife, Amanda.

Riverside had a full house. It was not necessarily an auspicious start because Riverside always always had a full house, and it was a small theater. Rod, of course, knew the claims that had been made for the source material, and, as one would expect, he didn't believe a word of it. Furthermore, he had made no secret of the fact that he'd come princ.i.p.ally to please Aspasia. "I've seen a couple of Greek plays," he said, with evident distaste. "They took my high-school cla.s.s to see one, I forget what it was, but I couldn't make heads or tails of it." had a full house, and it was a small theater. Rod, of course, knew the claims that had been made for the source material, and, as one would expect, he didn't believe a word of it. Furthermore, he had made no secret of the fact that he'd come princ.i.p.ally to please Aspasia. "I've seen a couple of Greek plays," he said, with evident distaste. "They took my high-school cla.s.s to see one, I forget what it was, but I couldn't make heads or tails of it."

The other one had been staged at the University of Pennsylvania years before. And, though Rod didn't directly say so, it was clear that his presence once again had been to please a young woman. Or maybe to impress her. In this latter instance, at least, he remembered the t.i.tle, if not the dramatist. It had been The Acharnians The Acharnians. By, of course, Aristophanes.

Rod was adamant about people who'd send somebody an armload of Greek literature. "They won't tell you who they are. That means they're con artists. Trying to get away with something. If I were you, I wouldn't have had anything to do with these things."

Harvey's att.i.tude wasn't much more positive. "It's just too good to be true," he said. Amanda cautioned him with stern looks to be careful. Don't hurt Aspasia's feelings.

Aspasia didn't really believe it either. Still, she wanted wanted to believe. And it was an exhilarating experience to settle into her seat, open the program, and see the t.i.tle, to believe. And it was an exhilarating experience to settle into her seat, open the program, and see the t.i.tle, Achilles Achilles, and, where the byline would normally be found: Thought to be by Sophocles Thought to be by Sophocles.

And there was the cast, Trainor, Polyxena, Paris, and Apollo, and, of course, Achilles, actually about to come alive.

Riverside was a theater-i n-the-r ound. They had good seats, up close. The stage was decked with plants and dominated by a doorway. The program identified it as the exterior of Apollo's chapel outside Troy.

THE lights came on, and the chorus began a dolorous chant. Achilles made his entrance. lights came on, and the chorus began a dolorous chant. Achilles made his entrance.

As the show proceeded, Aspasia tried to be skeptical. Achilles was perhaps too trusting of his longtime enemies, Polyxena too ready to give in to her lover's determination to risk everything in a meeting with Paris. Trainor, the priest, might not have been sufficiently respectful of the greatest of the Greek warriors. But she could find no fault with Paris. He was utterly torn between what he perceived as his obligation to the slain Troilus, and to Troy itself, and his repugnance at betraying his sister and ambus.h.i.+ng a victim who trusted him.

During the climax, he enters, with a longbow over one shoulder, and tries to opt out. "What if the bolt does not take him down?" he asks the audience, while presenting an arrow for their inspection.

He is on the verge of abandoning the effort when Apollo steps out of the shadows. "I am with you," the G.o.d says. "Have no fear."

And, as Achilles enters the chapel, the audience sits riveted.

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THE play ends with Trainor kneeling over Achilles' body while Paris retreats into the darkness. Polyxena produces a knife, which she will use on herself. The chorus closes out, and, for a few moments, after the last actor has left the stage, the audience is mute. Gradually, people begin to applaud. play ends with Trainor kneeling over Achilles' body while Paris retreats into the darkness. Polyxena produces a knife, which she will use on herself. The chorus closes out, and, for a few moments, after the last actor has left the stage, the audience is mute. Gradually, people begin to applaud.

When the actors came back to take their bows, the members of the audience were out of their seats cheering.

"Not bad," said Rod.

Harvey admitted that Achilles Achilles had been "very effective." had been "very effective."

"But it proves nothing," said Aspasia.

"It doesn't prove," he said, "that it was written by Sophocles, but who cares? It's like arguing about who wrote Shakespeare. What really matters is that we have a previously lost work, or we've discovered another brilliant playwright. Take your pick."

Ahead, in the crowd, there was a familiar face. One she hadn't seen in years.

"Dave," she said. "Dave Dryden. How are you?"

He broke into the same relaxed smile she remembered. "Aspasia. It's good to see you. How've you been?"

"Couldn't be better. What did you think of the show?"

"Not bad." He was with a young woman and a tall, silver-haired man in pinstripes. "Katie," he said, "this is Aspasia. We were in graduate school together at Princeton." He squeezed Katie's wrist. "We're old friends."

"Princeton's getting to be a long time ago," Aspasia said. "h.e.l.lo, Katie."

They shook hands, and Dave turned to the man in the pin-striped suit. "This is another old friend," he said. "Aspasia, Ari. He's a librarian." Then he switched to Greek. "Had it not been for her, Ari, tonight would not have happened."

"He doesn't speak English?" she asked.

"No. Not yet."

Aspasia smiled, offered her hand, and responded in Greek. "Ari," she said, "I'm delighted to meet you."

Citations: From Walter F. Cuirle, Notebooks. Used by permission.

From Kip Thorne, Physics of the Impossible Physics of the Impossible by Michio Kaku, Doubleday, copyright 2008 by Michio Kaku. Used by permission of Kip Thorne and Michio Kaku. by Michio Kaku, Doubleday, copyright 2008 by Michio Kaku. Used by permission of Kip Thorne and Michio Kaku.

From John Earman, Bangs, Crunches, Whimpers, and Shrieks Bangs, Crunches, Whimpers, and Shrieks, Oxford University Press, copyright 1995 by Oxford University Press. Used by permission.

From Harlan Ellison, Strange Wine Strange Wine, ibooks, copyright 1978 by The Kilimanjaro Corporation. Used by permission.

From Punch Ltd., www.punch.co.uk. Used by permission.

Novels by Jack McDevitt ANCIENT Sh.o.r.eS.

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INFINITY BEACH.

TIME TRAVELERS NEVER DIE.

The Academy (Priscilla Hutchins) Novels .

THE ENGINES OF G.o.d.

DEEPSIX.

CHINDI.

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ODYSSEY.

CAULDRON.

The Alex Benedict Novels .

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POLARIS.

SEEKER.

THE DEVIL'S EYE