Jack Finney - Time and Again

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Time and Again: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

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"Sleep. And when you awake everything you know about the 20th-century will be gone from your mind. Tonight is January 21, 1882. There are no such things as automobiles, no planes, computers, television. 'Nuclear' appears in no dictionary. You have never heard the name Richard Nixon."
Did illustrator Si Morley really step out of his 20th-century apartment one night — right into the winter of 1882? The U.S. Government believed it, especially when Si returned with a portfolio of brand-new sketches and tintype photos of a world that no longer existed — or did it?
Jack Finney is the author of more than a dozen novels. He lives in Mill Valley, California. "A fanciful novel, a blend of science fiction, nostalgia, mystery and acid commentary on super-government and its helots."
The New York Times
"One of the most original, readable, and engaging novels to have come along in a long time."
The Washington Post Book World

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I just smiled, and the two of them sat grinning at me for a few moments. I'd spent the morning here at the project, reeling off my list of random facts, dictating a long full report of everything I'd done on this last "trip," as we seemed to be calling them now. Everything except that Julia had come back with me. That had nothing to do with the success or failure of my mission so I just said that in the middle of the night, hiding in the arm of the Statue of Liberty, she'd remembered the nail pattern on Jake's boots. We'd known she was safe then, and at dawn I'd taken her home to 19 Gramercy Park, gotten my money, then hired a hansom up to the Dakota. I said I'd spent yesterday in my apartment sleeping.

Rube said, "So if the debriefing shows okay after all those shenanigans, it means that the stream of past events —»

" — is what we always insisted it was," Esterhazy cut in. " 'Twig-in-the-river' theory," he reminded me brusquely. "The stream of past events is a mighty stream indeed, far from easy to deflect casually, as ought to be obvious. It can happen by accident, as we've learned. Although the consequences were negligible. In any historical context, that is. But we have no doubt, nor did Dr. Danziger, that it could be affected by design."

It was hard to even keep my mind on what he was saying, and when he paused I nodded and rather vaguely said, "Well, fine. Colonel, and Rube, I think I've completed my mission. How practical it is to study past events, considering the risk I've demonstrated of getting involved with them, is something you people will have to judge. But right now my own affairs are piling up on me; I've got things to work out. And what I'd like now, if you're through with me" — I smiled — "is an honorable discharge."

Neither of them answered for a moment or so. They looked at me, then at each other. Finally Esterhazy said, "Well, before we take that up, Si, there's something I'd like you to know about. You're free to resign; you've done beautifully, done all that could be expected and more. But I'm certain you'll be interested in what I want you to hear. And then maybe you won't want to resign quite yet."

A girl opened the door; I hadn't seen her around the project before. "The others are here, Colonel."

"Good. Send them in." Esterhazy stood up behind his desk and looked toward the door with a pleasant smile.

Two men walked in, and I recognized them. The first was the young history professor with the big nose and big shock of thinning black hair that made him look to me anyway, like a television comic; his name was Messinger. The man behind him was Fessenden, the President's representative, around fifty, bald, with gray-brown hair combed over the shiny top of his head. They both greeted me, and Professor Messinger walked over to my chair as I stood up, to shake my hand. "Welcome home!" he said, and held up a sheet of mimeographed typescript stapled in one corner; I saw it was my dictated account of this last trip. "Terrific," he said, rattling the papers, "absolutely terrific," even sounding like a TV "personality." Fessenden gave me a formal nod, and then in imitation of Messinger decided to add a smile and waggle his copy of my account, which was a mistake; smiling cordiality wasn't really a part of his nature.

Rube was bringing over a couple of folding chairs, opening one as he walked; with his foot he shoved his own chair to Fessenden and gave the opened folding chair to Messinger. When we were all seated in a little curve at the front of his desk, Esterhazy sat down, saying, "This is the board now, Si, except for the senator, who's shepherding a bill through Congress today and can't join us. And Professor Butts, whom you may remember: professor of biology at Chicago. He's an advisory member now, without vote, present only when his specialty requires it. The old board was unwieldy. This is far more practical. Jack, maybe you'd like to brief Si."

Messinger turned to me, smiling easily, pleasantly; I saw Fessenden watching him, and it occurred to me that he envied Messinger. "Well, Mr. Morley — is 'Si' all right?"

"Of course."

"Good. And please call me Jack. We've been busy, too, Si. While you were gone. Doing the same job you were: investigating Mr. Andrew Carmody, though not at quite such close quarters. I've been in Washington, on leave and with a secretary provided. A very capable one, though" — he grinned at Esterhazy — "you might have found one just a shade better-looking. We've been cozily alone together in the National Archives, literally down in the basement, rummaging through papers of both Cleveland administrations, the rest of my team in other sections of the Archives. And Carmody really was a Cleveland adviser, one of many, in the years following your visit, Si. He began to involve himself in politics beginning in the spring of 1882 when Cleveland was governor of New York. And from occasional notes of Cleveland's, from the minutes of several meetings, and from references in two letters of Cleveland's, I've learned that he became something of a friend of his during Cleveland's first term. How that came about I don't know; there was nothing on that, not surprisingly. His influence then was zero, so far as I've been able to learn. But Carmody — or as we now know he really was, Pickering — fostered the friendship, and it reached its height, such as it was, during Cleveland's second term. The references we found in the Archives show clearly that Cleveland sometimes listened to Carmody — as of course the records call him, and as I might as well continue to call him. His influence was never large, and never important, except in one instance, and the evidence I found on that is conclusive. Cleveland entered office the second time with a war over Cuba building up with Spam, and being whooped up by several newspaper interests. Cleveland hoped to avoid the war, and a pretty good solution was offered him by a number of people; namely, that he offer to buy Cuba from Spain. This much is well known, a matter of clear record; you can find references to it in any complete account of Cleveland's second term. There was precedent for the plan — in our purchases of the Louisiana Territory from France and of Alaska from Russia. And there was evidence that Spain would welcome a chance to avoid a war they knew they couldn't hope to win. But here, I discover, is Pickering-Carmody's place in history: It was his advice that turned Cleveland against the notion. I don't know what he said; the little I found on it is partly technical and pretty sketchy. But it's certain; no mistake about that. And that's it. His sole role in history of any importance is a negative one, a small one, a footnote he might not care to brag about if he were around to do so. After Cleveland's second term we don't hear of him again so far as I was able to learn."

He stopped, and I sat nodding for a few moments, thinking about what he'd said; I was interested. I said, "Well, I'm glad I was able to contribute the new knowledge, unimportant though it is now, that Carmody was actually Pickering. Personally I'm a little pleased at the thought of old Jake Pickering actually in the White House advising Cleveland."

Esterhazy said, "We're pleased with your contribution, too; damn pleased. We hoped for something like it, and you delivered. It's a contribution far more important than you know. Rube?"

Rube turned to me, swinging a leg over an arm of his chair so he could sit facing me more comfortably, smiling that good smile that made you glad he was your friend and made you want to be on his side. He said, "Si, you're bright. You can understand that this project has to yield practical results. It's great that it can contribute to scholarly knowledge, but that isn't enough. You can't spend millions, can't take valuable people off other work, to add a little footnote to history about someone nobody ever heard of anyway. Your success — and how remarkable a thing that is I don't think there are words for — has made the next phase of this project possible. That next phase is an advance on the experiment. As careful and cautious as those that preceded it. And it is potentially of enormous benefit —»

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