To Say Nothing of the Dog by Connie Willis Read Free Book Online Page A

might result in increased slippage. At worst, it might make time travel impossible. Or alter the course of history. Or destroy the universe. Which is why such an incongruity is not possible, as I tried to tell Lady Schrapnell!”
    “Increased slippage,” Mr. Dunworthy said. “An incongruity would cause an increase in slippage?”
    “Theoretically,” Mr. Chiswick said. “Incongruities were one of the areas Lady Schrapnell’s money was to enable us to research, research which now has gone completely by the wayside in favor of this idiotic cathedral! The woman’s impossible! Last week she ordered me to decrease the amount of slippage per drop. Ordered me! She doesn’t understand slippage either.”
    Mr. Dunworthy leaned forward and put his spectacles on. “Has there been an increase in slippage?”
    “No. Lady Schrapnell simply has no concept of the workings of time travel. She—”
    “The field of marrows,” I said.
    “What?” Mr. Chiswick turned and glared at me.
    “The farmer’s wife thought he was a German paratrooper.”
    “Paratrooper?” Chiswick said, and his eyes narrowed. “You’re not the missing historian, are you? What’s your name?”
    “John Bartholomew,” Mr. Dunworthy said.
    “Whom, I see from his condition, Lady Schrapnell has recruited. She must be stopped, Dunworthy.” The handheld began bleeping and spitting again. He read aloud.” ‘No info yet on Henry’s whereabouts. Why not? Send location immediately. Need two more people to go to Great Exhibition, 1850, check on possible origins of bishop’s bird stump.’ ” He crumpled the readout and threw it on Mr. Dunworthy’s desk. “You’ve got to do something about her now! Before she destroys the university!” he said, and swept out.
    “Or the known universe,” Mr. Dunworthy murmured.
    “Should I go after him?” Finch asked.
    “No,” Mr. Dunworthy said. “Try to get in touch with Andrews, and call up the Bodleian’s files on parachronistic incongruities.”
    Finch went out. Mr. Dunworthy took off his spectacles and peered through them, frowning.
    “I know this is a bad time,” I said, “but I wondered if you had any idea where I might be able to go to convalesce. Away from Oxford.”
    “Meddling,” Mr. Dunworthy said. “Meddling got us into this, and more meddling will only make it worse.” He put his spectacles back on and stood up. “Clearly the best thing to do is wait and see what happens, if anything,” he said, pacing. “The chances that its disappearance would affect history are statistically insignificant, particularly from that era. Whole batches of them were routinely thrown in rivers to keep the numbers down.”
    The number of fans? I thought.
    “And the fact that it came through the net is in itself a proof that it didn’t create an incongruity, or the net wouldn’t have opened.” He wiped his spectacles on the tail of his jacket and held them up to the light. “It’s been over a hundred and fifty years. If it were going to destroy the universe, it would very likely have done so by now.”
    He exhaled onto the lenses and wiped them again. “And I refuse to believe that there are two courses of history in which Lady Schrapnell and her project to rebuild Coventry Cathedral could exist.”
    Lady Schrapnell. She’d be back from the Royal Masonic any time now. I leaned forward in the chair. “Mr. Dunworthy,” I said, “I was hoping you could think of somewhere where I could recover from the time-lag.”
    “On the other hand, there’s a good chance that the reason there wasn’t an incongruity is that it was returned before there could be any consequences, disastrous or otherwise.”
    “The nurse said two weeks’ bed rest, but if I could just get three or four days—”
    “But even if that is the case,” he stood up and began pacing, “there’s still no reason not to wait. That’s the beauty of time travel. One can wait three or four days, or two weeks, or a year, and still return it