Part 43 (1/2)
”I'm sorry, Mr. Dryden. She's with a patient at the moment.”
”Tell her I called, please? It's important. I'd appreciate it if she could get back to me as soon as possible.”
”Mr. Dryden, is this a medical emergency?”
”No, ma'am.”
”Okay. I'll see that she gets the message.”
HE was back in his living room when Helen called. was back in his living room when Helen called. ”What's wrong, Dave?” ”What's wrong, Dave?”
”Are you sitting down?”
”Dave, I'm awfully busy.”
”Shel's dead.”
”What?”
”Lightning hit the house last night. It burned down.”
”No. That's not-”
”He was in bed. They don't have a positive ID yet. But-”
”Where are you now, Dave?”
”At home. I've been over there. There's nothing left of the place.”
”My G.o.d.”
”I'm sorry.”
No response.
”You okay?”
”Yeah. I'm all right.” Her voice was tight. Her voice was tight.
”Helen, if there's anything I can do-”
”I know, Dave. Thanks.”
HE put on the TV and let it play. A game show. He never watched game shows, never really watched much of anything except news. And of course the Phillies and Eagles. put on the TV and let it play. A game show. He never watched game shows, never really watched much of anything except news. And of course the Phillies and Eagles.
But at the moment he needed voices in the house.
What were the odds against a lightning strike?
He closed his eyes and tried to wish it away. Tried to make it a day like every other day, in which Shel might call at any moment, in which the only real concern was where they would go this week.
Where they would go.
So much for Voltaire.
He wondered whether he should go back to Italy and inform Professor Shelborne. Maybe that would be an unnecessarily cruel act. But if he didn't, he would go on from day to day, waiting for his son to show up again.
The converter was in his bedroom. It was on a side table, where he'd left it when he hurried out of the house an hour earlier. The last unit.
And a sudden possibility froze him. If you can travel in time, there are no limits to what you can do. He still tended to think of yesterday as a place that existed only in memory.
But Shel was alive back there. As surely as his father. As surely as Nero was still, somehow, somewhen, falling out of his chariot.
Everything is forever.
He could go back and warn him.
The local news came on. More bad weather coming. A woman had been a.s.saulted by two masked kids in Brandywine. A bus driver had suffered a heart attack and plowed into an outdoor food market. There was confirmation about the victim killed last night in the lightning strike. Dental records showed it was was Adrian Shelborne, thirty-two, the son of the eminent Philadelphia physicist who'd disappeared mysteriously almost a year ago. Adrian Shelborne, thirty-two, the son of the eminent Philadelphia physicist who'd disappeared mysteriously almost a year ago.
HE drove back to the town house and parked down the street. The tape was still up, but the investigators and police had gone. He picked up the converter and attached it to his belt. A couple of people were standing near the tape, but they weren't paying any attention to him. drove back to the town house and parked down the street. The tape was still up, but the investigators and police had gone. He picked up the converter and attached it to his belt. A couple of people were standing near the tape, but they weren't paying any attention to him.
He set the instrument for 11:00 P.M. the previous night. He took a deep breath, and, with more reluctance than he'd ever felt before, pushed the b.u.t.ton.
Torrential rain poured down on him. The sky was full of lightning. But lights were on in the town house. Downstairs.
He moved beneath the overhang of a storefront, which provided some shelter from the storm.
A van cruised past and turned right at the intersection.
The curtains were drawn in the town house. The garage was open, as it had been when he'd arrived to see the results of the fire.
He stood watching, trying to make up his mind. He could save Shel, but he knew that hadn't happened. Knew he hadn't gone in and told him what was coming. But did that really mean he couldn't do it?
If he brought Shel back, how would they explain it? He was officially dead now. Hopelessly, definitely dead. Identified by his dental records.
The experiments had scared him. Plan on taking the book out of the briefcase, and bad things happen.
The overhang wasn't providing much protection. Another car rolled past. At one of the houses across the street, a door opened, and he heard voices.
”Good-bye, Babe.”
”See you tomorrow, Lenny.”