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"Maureen, maybe you can think of some way I can prove to you that I'm from the future-something that will convince you. But this is why I had to tell you: Brian-your husband, my ancestor-will come back unharmed. He's going to go through battles. Shells will fall around him, shots will whistle past his ears-but none will touch him."
Mrs. Smith gasped. Then she said slowly, "Theodore how do you know?"
"Because you two are my ancestors. I couldn't memorize the Foundation's records on all the Howards of today but I did study the files on my own ancestors, ones I might have a chance to meet. You. Brian. Brian's parents in Cinci
"Why, yes, months ago. Then it is true, Theodore. Or should I call you 'Lazarus'?"
"Call me anything you like, darling. But I still haven't proved anything. Just that I have had access to the Foundation's files-which might have been last year, not in the future. We're still looking for proof. Mmm...I know a proof for a few months from now-but I must make you believe me tonight. So you will have no more tears on your pillow. And I don't know how."
He caressed her thighs, touched her curls. "Here inside you is proof that won't show up in time. This last baby Brian put into your sweet belly- He's a boy, dearest ancestress, and you and Brian will name him 'Theodore Ira'-which flatters me enormously. When I read his name in the records, I didn't know that he was my namesake, as I hadn't picked my assumed name then."
She squeezed his hand with her thighs and sighed. "I want to believe you. But suppose Brian wants to name him Joseph? Or Josephine?"
"'Josephine' is not a name for a boy. Darling, Brian will name his war baby for the other two stars on your service flag; this war means a lot to him. He'll probably suggest it himself-I don't know. I just know that 'Theodore Ira' is the name you will register with the Foundation. My other ancestors- Adele Johnson, of course, your mother and Ira's wife. Lives in St. Louis. Left him around the time you got married but didn't divorce him-which probably irked him; I don't think Ira is a man to be celibate simply because his wife leaves but Won't turn him loose."
"He's not, dear. I'm certain Father has a-well, a mistress, and goes to see her some nights when he is supposed to be at that 'chess club'-and it's not a chess club; it's a pool hall. I go along with the pretense because he calls it that in front of the children."
"He does play chess there."
"Father plays a fine game of billiards, too. Go ahead, darling-Lazarus. I'm willing to believe. Maybe we'll find something."
"Well, I don't think I'll look up your mother; I don't think I would get along with a woman who thinks sex is something to 'put up with.'"
"I got along with Mother only by lying to her. Father reared me far more than she did. I was his favorite. He let it show, which is why I'm careful not to let it show with Wood-row. Go on, Theodore. Lazarus."
"That's all of my ancestors you are related to. Except one. Our stowaway. Maureen, I'm descended from you and Brian through Woodie."
She gasped. "Really? Oh, I hope it's true!"
"True as taxes, beloved. And it may have saved his life. I've never been closer to infanticide than I was when we found him in the back seat."
She giggled. "Darling, I felt the same way. But I won't let anger show in my voice even if I'm about to switch a child."
"I hope I didn't show anger. But I felt it. Beloved, I was so hard I ached-until we found Woodrow. Honey love, I was rarin' to go!"
"And I was just as ready! Oh, Theodore-Lazarus-it's so sweet to be open with you. Uh...yes, you're quite hard now."
"Easy there!-don't make me climb the curb. I have been ever since we left the house except when I forced it down. But the one Woodie ruined was bigger and better."
"Size isn't important, Theodore-Lazarus; a woman must fit any size. Father told me that long ago and taught me exercises for it-and I never told Brian; I let him think that was simply how I am-and accepted his compliments smugly. I still exercise regularly-because my birth canal has been stretched again and again and again by babies' skulls and if I didn't exercise those muscles I would be, in Father's salty language, 'loose as a goose.' And I do so want to stay desirable to Brian as many years as possible."
"And to the iceman and the milkman and the postman- and the boy who drives the grocery wagon."
"Tease. I'd like to stay young there till I die."
"You will, you eighteen-year-old prospective grandmother. Let's get our minds off sex and back to time travel; I'm still looking for a proof. So that you will know why I am certain that Brian came back okay. But to stop your worry it must be something that happens soon and certainly before Woodie's birthday."
"Why Woodrow's birthday?"
"Didn't I get that far? This war ends on Woodie's next birthday, the eleventh of November." He added, "I'm certain of that, it's a key date in history. But I'm racking my brain for some event between now and then-as soon as possible, to stop your worries. But-oh, shucks, dear, I made a silly mistake. I meant to arrive after this war is over. But I gave my computer one critical figure with an error in it-just a little one, but it made me arrive three years too soon. Not her fault; she accepts any data I give her, and she's as accurate a computer as ever co
"Theodore...I'm confused."
"I'm sorry, darling. Time travel is confusing."
"You speak of a computer, and I'm not sure what you mean...and you said 'she' co
Lazarus sighed. "That's why I never intended to tell anyone. But I had to tell you-so that you could stop worrying. My ship is a spaceship-like Jules Verne, only more so. A starship, I live on a planet a long way off. But it is a timeship, too; she travels in both space and time and it's too complicated to explain. The computer is the ship's brain-a machine, a very complex machine. My ship is named 'Dora' and the machine, the computer, that co
"I'd be that freckled if I didn't stay out of the sun. When I was Marie's age Father called me 'Turkey Egg.' But all over? They don't wear any clothes?"
"Oh, they enjoy fancy dress for parties. Or the weather might be cold-but it rarely is; we live in a climate like southern Italy. They don't wear anything very often." Lazarus smiled and caressed her thigh. "They don't need to leave their bloomers home to be ready for lovemaking; they don't own any bloomers. They aren't a bit shy. They would be delighted to trip your father; they like older men-they're much younger than I am."