Cretaceous Sea

'Maybe there won't be a next one,' said Con.

Her mother's face colored at that remark. 'There's always another one. But I gave him his only child,' she said with fierce satisfaction. 'Take that trip and have a good time. I'll leave you to finish packing.'

'Don't let Daddy know I told you about it.'

'Small chance of that,' said Mother as she left the room.

Con sighed and looked at the pile of clothes on the bed. Ten kilograms was not a lot of clothes, especially since Daddy insisted she bring two dinner dresses. She put a light sweater in the duffel bag along with the underwear and made one more trip to the scales. When she took off her shoes and put them on the bag, she was still over. She rummaged through the bag and removed her makeup case. There, she thought as the scale registered ten kilograms, no one will really care how 1 look anyway. If Daddy wants me made up for dinner, I'll borrow Sara's. I bet she didn't have a weight limit. When Con put the makeup case back on her bureau, she saw herself in the mirror. Her short, brown hair framed large hazel eyes, a petite nose and full lips. She would have been considered pretty in earlier times, but the softness of her features ran contrary to current tastes. It isn't a fashionable face, she thought. Con assessed herself critically. My nose is wrong, my mouth's too big and my chest—forget it't Then she stopped herself. It was a stupid game, and she hated when she gave in to it. If I don't like the way I look, Daddy will be glad to pay to change me, Con reminded herself. Then I'd end up looking like Sara.

TOM CLEMENTS STRUGGLED to hide the disappointment in his eyes as he looked at his younger brother. He failed miserably. 'Not going on the dig?' he said incredulously.

'It's not definite,' said Rick, 'but something's come up. I may not be available this summer.' Ever since their parents had died, Tom, who was twelve years older, had been both brother and father to Rick. The summers they spent excavating fossils together were special times for them both. When they had begun, Tom was a first-year graduate student at the university. Now he was an assistant professor of paleontology.

'What's come up?'

'I can't tell.'

Tom's face colored. 'You haven't signed on with a commercial collector?'

'God, no!' said Rick. He hesitated a moment, weigh-ing the hurt in his brother's eyes against all the lawyers' threats. Then, five days after he signed the nondisclosure agreement, he broke it. 'I'll be in trouble if this gets out. I've promised in writing I wouldn't discuss it.'

'Discuss what?'

Rick looked around the faculty dining room nervously and lowered his voice. 'Time travel,' he whispered.

'Time travel!' said Tom so loudly it made Rick wince.

'Keep it down,' whispered Rick.

'This has got to be a joke,' said Tom more quietly.

'No, it's serious,' replied Rick, 'I've been hired as a guide for a trip to the Upper Cretaceous. I've already received airfare and a five-thousand-Euro advance on my salary. If it were some joke, would they pay me an ad-vance?'

Tom appeared dumbfounded. After a long silence he said, 'We need to talk about this seriously, but I've got a class in a few minutes. Why don't you drop by my apartment this evening? I'll cook dinner.'

'You've got to keep this secret.'

'Don't worry,' said Tom, 'I've a reputation for sanity. I want to protect it.'

'Okay, I'll see you at dinner.' Rick got up to leave.

'One thing, before you go,' said Tom.

'What's that?'

'Who invented this...' Tom lowered his voice to a dramatic whisper. '... time machine?'

'Someone named Peter Green. But, Tom, please don't talk . . .'