Fugitives of Time: Sequel to Emperors of Time (9 page)

Tim absorbed the contents of the letter and frowned.
 He wished there was something he could do for this less-than-content
woman.  From the information in the biographical information Hopkins had
given him, Tim knew that Marie was destined to die of cancer in 1867.  She
would die childless, and although Sage would only be a congressman until 1857,
he would likely be occupied in some of the important things in New York that
Marie had mentioned.  

But even as Tim was feeling sorry for this woman, the
analytical part of his mind was working.  He was thinking about the text
as a historical document, looking for bias, underlying assumptions, accuracy,
all the things his social studies teacher had told him to examine.  

Tim thought it was interesting that Marie seemed really
concerned about the morality of slavery.  He wondered if she considered
herself an abolitionist.  He knew there was far more at play in the Civil
War and in its causes like the Kansas-Nebraska Act, than just people’s moral
attitudes on slavery.  Certainly, many Northerners in Congress, especially
Northern Democrats, would vote for the Kansas-Nebraska Act.  They believed
that popular sovereignty and not the Federal Government should determine
whether slavery was legal in a state.  

Of course, Tim knew, as did the Democrats floating this
idea, that slavery would have a hard time passing the test of popular
sovereignty in many states if the slaves themselves were allowed to vote.
 Slaves made up more than half of the population in certain Southern
states like South Carolina.

Marie Sage’s view of slavery was anything but indicative of
that of the nation as a whole.  But it was still helpful for Tim to have
read the letter.  Marie was, in addition to being Sage’s wife, a person
residing in the district he represented.  Of course, as a woman she would
not get the right to vote for many years.  

It was good for Tim to remember these diverse views, as he
was going to be sitting in the House of Representatives the next day as
discussion on the bill began.  He had already decided, with the help of
Hopkins’ suggestion on the matter, that it would be safest not to make any
speeches in the House unless absolutely necessary.  However, he was still
going to have to react appropriately to others’ speeches over the next few
days.

He continued searching around the room.  He was a bit
amused by the fact that there was a writing quill at his desk.  He should
probably practice using it, because he’d ever only written with a pen or
pencil.  But he could do that later.  He opened a drawer on the desk
and found some money.  

Tim was a coin collector, so this bit of bills and change
was enough to keep him preoccupied for a little while.  The coins were
cool, but nothing particularly special.  He had seen a lot of coins from
this era, even owned a couple.  At this time, the US used a series of
coins called the Seated Liberty, which had a woman, representing the virtue of
liberty, on the coins ranging from the half-dime (not yet called a nickel), to
the silver dollar coin.  In the drawer were a couple dollar coins, some
dimes, half-dimes, and quarters.  All these were colored silver, but there
were also a handful of copper large-cents.  Large-cents were only worth a
penny but were larger than a quarter in diameter.  It would be a copper
shortage later in American history that forced the change to smaller pennies.
 

But the really cool thing, Tim thought, was the paper money.
 As Tim had previously known, there was no nationally issued paper money
in the 1850s.  What there were instead were notes issued from banks
authorized by each of the different states.  Each of these notes had the name
of the bank, the state it was in, and different pictures and designs on it.
 One thing they had in common was that each bill declared that it was
redeemable for its equivalent value in silver from the bank in question.

Russell Sage had a variety of different denominations in
notes from different origins.  Tim took the stack of notes in his hand and
was mesmerized as he shuffled through it.  There was a five dollar note
from the Bank of Cape Fear, North Carolina; a three dollar note from the Bank
of Milford, in Delaware; and a two dollar bill from the bank of Farmington, New
Hampshire.  Most of the notes, however, were from various banks in New
York state, which Tim supposed made sense, since this was where Sage was from
and where he would have made most of his money.

He reluctantly put the money away after reminding himself
there would be plenty of time to investigate the currency later (he had hardly
even looked at the backs of the notes).  He checked the pockets of the
jacket that was resting on the desk chair.  He found the pocket watch he’d
used to jump there.  He had almost forgotten that it would have had to
have been in this room, since it had been his ticket back here.  It would
come in handy, too, given that he would need to keep track of time not only to
keep the appointment with the other teens tonight, but also to make it to all
of his congressional obligations on time.  

He kind of liked the idea of a pocket watch, too, as opposed
to a wristwatch.  He’d never really gotten in the habit of wearing one,
and on the few occasions that he had tried, he’d felt uncomfortable.  The
pocket watch, though, would be kind of like his phone back in his own time.
 Whenever he needed to know the time, he would pull it out, flip it open,
then put it back in his pocket.  Of course, it wouldn’t have an alarm
component, and that was something he would have to solve.  He had no
reason to think his circadian rhythms would be in tune now that he had just
jumped through time from noon in the 23rd century to four pm in the 19th.
 An alarm clock would probably be the only way he wouldn’t sleep through
his first congressional session, and he didn’t want that.  He would have
to find where Sage kept his.

At that moment, Tim noticed the window and also realized he
was sweating.  The window was closed, and for a moment, Tim considered
going over to try and figure out how to open it.  But as he made his way
to the window, he saw the buildings across the street and suddenly remembered
that he was in 19th-century Washington DC.  He’d been to DC a few times
with is family and once on a school field trip.  But the nation’s capital
in 1854 was a different prospect, and all of a sudden, this boarding house room
felt a bit too small for his taste.  It was time for a little walk.

Cooper’s
Kitchen

They decided to meet at ten pm instead of during daylight
for discretion.  They figured the boarders at Billy’s house would have
retired for the evening, or Billy could convince them to do so if they were up
late.

By the time Tim arrived at the boarding house, it was dark
enough that he was worried about whether the girls would be safe.  The
streets did have gas-lights, but there weren’t as many of them as Tim would
have liked.  Although he got to the house okay, he was disguised as a
nearly forty-year-old man and not a girl or a woman.

When Tim knocked on the door, the man who opened the door
looked so much like he belonged in the house and the time period that Tim
almost forgot the guy looking at him with Charles Cooper’s face was actually
Billy.

Tim knew that the girls could take care of themselves, since
they each had a gadget from Hopkins that should do the trick if nothing else
did.  But using it would blow their cover and wasn’t even guaranteed to
get them out of trouble.

His fears were compounded when, by 10:05, Julie had arrived,
but Rose hadn’t.

“We knew she might not be able to sneak out of the house,”
Julie reminded Tim, as she entered the kitchen and immediately saw the worried
look on Tim’s adopted face.

“I still don’t like it,” Tim said, irritably.

“Hold up a second,” Billy said.  “I didn’t even get to
introduce the house.  This is my boarding house, Charles Cooper’s Boarding
House.  Which makes this Cooper’s kitchen.”

“That is very nice,” Julie registered.  “But we need to
remember how to talk properly.  What if someone were to hear us?”

“I imagine that if someone were to hear us talking about
what we plan to talk about, our dialect is going to be the least of their
concerns,” Billy said, in a hushed tone.  “But I suppose there’s no reason
to let someone who just hears us in passing think we talk strange.  So I
understand what you mean.”

“Besides, it will be good practice.  After all, Sage
must pass as a member of polished society tomorrow in the House of
Representatives,” Julie reminded him.  She seemed to emulate the
upper-class intonation that Tim would have imagined a wealthy widow like her
assumed personality to have.

“Do either of you two need something to eat?” Billy
asked.  “I have a full kitchen here.  Even though I employ someone to
cook during the day, I figure I can probably figure out how to get you two
something edible if you’re hungry.”

“I’m all right,” Tim decided.  “It turns out I pay for
dinner and breakfast at the boarding house, although I guess I will have to
find something else tomorrow for lunch.  I seem to have plenty of money on
hand, though.”

“I have a full kitchen as well,” Julie said.  “I will
need to figure out where to shop in the next couple of days, but for now I am
quite all right to make do myself, though I am a little bit scared about how
they kept their meat.  Still, I think I remember the lessons Hopkins gave
me on how people back then-- or back now-- cook, so I should be okay.”

“I notice that you are wearing a different dress than
before,” Billy observed.

“Yes, it would seem that the Widow MacPhearson has quite a
selection of dresses,” Julie said seriously.  She then gave a slight
giggle that reminded Tim of the Julie he knew but seemed a bit out of place for
the thirty-year old lady he was looking at.  “I will admit, it was an
awful lot of fun trying so many dresses on.”

“I can imagine,” Billy said, but mouthed, “No I can’t” at
Tim. 

Tim smiled, and said, “Can you remind me of your background
story?  I spent so much time trying to memorize my own, I was unable even
to look at yours.”

“Not a problem,” said Julie.  “In fact, it will do me
good to practice again.  Diana MacPhearson was the daughter of a
Senator.  She married Stephen MacPhearson, who was a wealthy entrepreneur
here in DC. He had a hand in investing in a number of buildings around here,
and had a knack for striking a deal just when it was most profitable to
him.  Washington’s nowhere as big as it will get, but it’s been
growing.  From 1840 to 1850, the population increased from about 34,000 to
51,000, and Diana’s-- or, well…  let’s say
my
-- late husband had
put a lot of investment into growing the city’s infrastructure and building the
city up.  Anyway, he died last year, at forty-- he was ten years older
than me -- and left me his fortune.  Now, I live in a nice house and have
connections with many of the important men around town.”

“Lucky for us, then,” Billy registered.

“Right.  But you don’t have enough information about
these people to take advantage of those connections, do you?” Tim asked.

“Well… not yet.  But I did manage to find Diana’s
diary.  If I have any luck at all, I ought to be able to glean something
from there,” explained Julie.

“Well, that
is
convenient.  And a bit creepy,”
decided Tim.

Julie shrugged.  “I
am
wearing her face, I might
as well know what she thinks.”

“So, you know what you can do tomorrow to help out the
cause,” Billy said.  “Would you mind also checking in with Rose
somehow?  I assume you are at least on speaking terms with Justice
Curtis?  At worst, you can ask how his daughter is doing, just to make
sure nothing strange happened to her.  At best, maybe you can see her in
person for a little bit and let her know what we’ve talked about tonight.”

“Those sound like things I can handle,” Julie confirmed
confidently.

“Fair enough, since you have the easiest job,” said Billy
with a grin and an eye-roll.

Julie pretended to be insulted, giving an exaggerated “I
can’t believe you just said that,” look.  In that moment, she looked a lot
like the old Julie, in spite of the fact that the face was all wrong.

“You will want to refrain from making that facial expression
around your high-society friends, Diana,” Tim said, with a laugh.

“Duly noted,” Julie said, allowing her look to soften to a
smile.

“Tim-- Russell-- of course, you have session tomorrow. 
I hope you have memorized the positions of the important representatives? 
Do you need to borrow the cheat-sheet?  I can’t imagine that you can have
memorized the positions of all two-hundred some people who voted on it?” Billy
asked.

“Well, no…  But I know how groups of people voted. All
Northern Whigs voted against.  That’s 45 votes right there.  All
Southern Democrats but two voted in favor, 57-2.  So if I memorize two
names, I’ve got almost half the votes.  Southern Whigs are a bit trickier,
voted in favor by 12-7.  Northern Democrats were the difficult part,
though.  Voted 44-42 in favor.  Plus I had to memorize the people who
didn’t vote, in case someone tries to convince them to.  But I had several
days to study.  I have it down.  It was just like studying for a
history test,” said Tim.

“Ah…” Billy said.  “Whatever you say, there,
Sage.  Anyway, I have an assignment, too.  Would you believe--” 
Billy cut himself off for a moment here, and looked at the door, apparently to
make sure that it was closed and nobody was eavesdropping on them.  Even
though the door was still closed, he lowered his voice to a whisper as he
continued.  “As owner of this place, I have keys to all the rooms, and
three of the guests here are Representatives.  I will take the opportunity
tomorrow to look through their stuff and see if I can see anything that looks
out of place.”

“Out of place like it might be a mind-control tool from the
future?” hissed Julie, keeping the whispered tone that Billy had adopted. 

“Well, yes,” Billy said with a shrug.  “I wish Hopkins
could have given us a better idea what we were looking for, but as it is, I
think this is the best I can do.”

“Agreed,” said Tim.

With their plans completed, they chatted for a few minutes,
but there was nothing much else needing said, and it was getting late on what
had been a long day for all of them.  Soon Julie announced that it was
about time for her to go back to the MacPhearson estate.

“I’ll walk you home,” Tim offered, quickly.  His
motivation was equal parts that he wanted to make sure she got home safe and
that he really did like spending time alone with her, even on days when she
looked like a 19th century widow.  The three quickly agreed that they
would meet again the same time and place the next day, then Tim opened the door
for Julie.

Soon, the two of them were walking back toward the
MacPhearson home on 2nd Street.  It was about half a mile away from
Cooper’s Boarding House, and in the opposite direction as his place, but Tim
didn’t mind. 

They ran into almost nobody on the road.  Without the
noise of cars or the light of electronic devices, the city felt more like a
huge campground than a national capital.

They walked from the light of one gas-lamp to another. 
Julie and Tim discovered that if you looked up at the sky when you were in the
dimness between lamps, you could see an inordinate number of stars.  Light
pollution had hardly begun to come to Washington.

“It’s almost romantic, isn’t it?” Julie asked, after they had
walked about a block together.

Tim smiled and said, “Almost.”  He tried to play it
cool, but inside, he was already interpreting what she said in about thirty
different ways.  Did this mean she was thinking about him
romantically?  Even after whatever she had been about to say the last time
he’d tried to talk to her about whether or not they were a couple?

“We had better be careful, though,” Julie said.  “If
people see a man taking home the Widow MacPhearson past ten at night, they
might think your intentions are less than pure.”

“But Sage is married!” Tim protested.

“Yes, I suppose you’re right,” Julie decided.  “And
nobody is looking at us anyway, I’m sure, at least not close enough to tell who
we are.”  With that proclamation, she softly slipped her hand into his.

Tim almost pulled his hand away.  Could they be certain
they weren’t being observed?  But a quick look around showed that there
were lights in almost none of the windows they passed by, and most windows were
covered by curtains.  Tim supposed there was no harm letting Julie hold
his hand, even if he was still confused about what it meant.

“Are you nervous?” Julie asked.  “About tomorrow?”

“Yes,” Tim answered without really thinking much.  Of
course he was nervous.  “But excited, too.  You know?”

“Sure,” Julie said.  “You are going straight into the
fire.  The people we are looking for, the ones whose minds the Emperors
are controlling, are almost definitely going to be in the room with you
tomorrow.”

“Right, but I am literally going to be an American
congressman in 1854.  Or, at least, everyone will think I am.  Even
so, how many people can say that?” Tim asked.

“Well…  I don’t think I know of a lot of people who
would
want
to be able to say that,” Julie countered.  Tim looked at
her in the torchlight as she laughed.

Tim remembered something his mother had told him once. 
She’d said that the more you liked a person, whether you originally liked how
they looked or not, you would find them more and more attractive.  Tim
hadn’t believed her at the time, but he figured he wouldn’t have thought this
19th century woman in the funny dress was attractive at all had he not known he
was actually looking at Julie.