I will grow old very quickly this way, and I say as much to Marie.
“It’ll be different after your training is done,” she tells me. “Once you’re officially a personal historian, when you push the HOME button, your real time in the past will equal the amount of time you’ve been gone. No unnecessary aging.” She thinks for a moment. “I should say that’s how it usually works. You may, on occasion, be asked to make an expedited trip and you’ll return right after you leave.”
“Is there a reason why that happens?”
She shrugs. “Whatever the reason, you’re not likely to be told.”
“A rush for a client?”
She hesitates. “That could be it.” Like on a few previous occasions, she seems to be holding something back. Whatever that might be, she continues to keep it to herself.
By the time my training nears its end, I have visited nearly every year going back to 1900, and dozens of years earlier than that. On most trips going more than eighty years back, we use the automated function and do them in hops to reduce the side effects. Marie makes me take one long trip all the way back to 1645 so I’d understand why the hops are necessary. The pain is so intense I pass out moments after we arrive. When I come to, I make it clear to her it’s a lesson that does not need repeating.
When I arrive for my very last day of training, I ask Marie, “So, who are we tracing today?
“No one.”
“No one? We’re not going anywhere?”
“Did I say that? Pull out your Chaser, please.”
As soon as I do, she pushes the GO button on her device and we wink out of 2014. In the now familiar gray mist of the journey, I can sense Marie’s companion. This is something that’s been building from trip to trip. It’s like that feeling that someone’s watching you but you’re never quite able to figure out who. Marie tells me the link will be even stronger with my own companion after I’ve worked with that person for a while. There are pairs of Rewinders and companions who are so compatible that they’re able to communicate through the link. I’m not sure if I want that or not.
Our journey is apparently a long one, as we end up making five different stops before we settle on the bank of a river. Having unexpectedly — at least in my mind — arrived during daylight, my training immediately kicks in and I drop to the ground, my head moving back and forth as I scan the area to make sure we haven’t been spotted. But we’re completely alone.
“Good response, though you could have probably dropped a second sooner,” Marie says.
A half second at most, I think, but I’m not going to argue. I rub away my headache as I look out at the wide river. “Where are we?”
“Spain. The Guadalquivir River.”
That would explain the sweat on my brow. “What are we doing here?”
“Is that the right question?”
Of course it isn’t. “When are we?”
“The tenth of August, 1519.”
The date is a familiar one. But with all the practical training we’ve been doing, I’m a bit rusty with my studying.
“There,” she says, pointing upriver.
The bow of a ship is just coming into view, and that’s when I remember. It was even a question on the very test that brought me to the institute’s attention.
There are five ships total. I don’t remember the names of all of them. One, I believe, is the Victoria, another the Santiago. There is one whose name I do know for sure. The Trinidad, flagship of Ferdinand Magellan’s fleet. This is the day he sails to the coast where his journey around the world will begin, a trip Magellan will not finish. But both he and I are here at the start, separated only by the flowing river.
When the ships finally sail out of sight, all I can say is, “They’re smaller than I pictured in my mind.”
I look over at Marie to see if she’s heard me, but she seems lost in thought.
When I open my mouth to ask if she’s all right, she says quietly, “And look what we’ve become.”
“I’m sorry?”
She glances over as if she momentarily forgot I’m here. “Don’t get used to this,” she says, ignoring my question. “Historical moments will seldom be on your agenda. Consider this a present from me, for doing a good job.” She looks back at the now empty river. “Remain true and keep your eyes open, and you’ll be one hell of a Rewinder.”
She short-hops us back to 2014.
Before dismissing me for the last time, she takes my Chaser and disables the slave mode. It may not be official yet, but I feel like I’m already a Rewinder.
Graduation is a formal affair in the gardens behind Upjohn Hall. There must be two hundred people in attendance. The first group to be honored consists of the twelve people who started out as Rewinder trainees but have been reassigned as companions. None of them appear particularly happy, and a few even shoot scornful looks in our direction. And why not? I wouldn’t be happy, either.
After the new companions have been acknowledged, Lady Williams gives a speech about the obligations that come with being a personal historian, and the absolute dedication each of us needs to bring to our role every single day. She then focuses on the importance of the Upjohn Institute to the empire, and talks wistfully about the beginnings of the organization and all the families it has helped. Her words are met with polite applause, making me think this isn’t the first time she’s given this speech.
Finally, she calls the new Rewinders one by one to the stage, where each personal instructor gives his or her student a certification of completion. When my turn comes, Marie whispers as she shakes my hand, “Do good.”
The student in me wants to ask her if she meant to say, “Do well,” but something in her eyes tells me she meant exactly what she said.
When we leave the stage, we are guided over to where the new companions stand.
Back at the stage, Sir Gregory takes the microphone and says, “It’s now time for the pairing. The selections are not arbitrary, but the result of considerable analysis and consideration. As each pair is called out, you will stand together.” He reads the pairs but foregoes the usual alphabetical order. Instead of being last, I’m third.
“Denny Younger and Palmer Benson.”
What I remember most about Palmer is that he’d often hang out with Lidia during off hours, which is probably why we’ve never shared more than a few words.
And probably why we share only two now.
“Hi,” I say as I move next to him.
“Yeah,” he replies.
Sir Gregory encourages us to spend the afternoon with our companions, but as soon as we’re dismissed, Palmer takes off. I’m actually glad he’s uninterested in forming a friendship. It’ll be easier for me to forget the pain I’ll be causing him later.
As Palmer walks away, I notice Lidia watching him, too. Suddenly she turns and looks in my direction, hate oozing out of every pore, and I instantly know what she’s thinking. Palmer should be standing in my spot, ready for his life as a Rewinder, while I should be the companion.
The supervisor I’m assigned to work with for my first nine months is a veteran Rewinder named Merrick Johnston. He makes it clear from the beginning that ours is strictly a working relationship, and as long as I do exactly what he tells me, we won’t have any problems. I have no doubt the types of question I often asked Marie would not be welcome.
Johnston turns out to be a master at blending into whatever era we visit. Vowing to myself to be as good as he is, I watch his every move and study each choice he makes. Through the last months of 2014 and the first few of 2015, we trace the histories of dukes and lords and barons and leaders of industry and business. We delve into the past and uncover the expected ancestral triumphs that lifted families to prominence, and the ugly, buried secrets those in bygone generations assumed would never be known.