me to unlock the door for you."
"Thank you," Sierra said.
"Who used the second chair," Max said quietly to Sierra, as to the two slowly walked up the stairs to the library floor, then to the second library floor, about half a staircase behind Cyril Charles. "We haven't been here that long, since we arrived with the two Chairs."
"Very good question," Sierra said.
The three climbed the final, winding set of stairs. Cyril Charles opened the door to the room with the Chairs. "I shall leave you to your business," he said, in his courtly way. He bowed and walked back down the stairs.
Sierra and Max entered the room, which indeed contained only one Chair. "I suppose you want to take the one Chair to 1906 and Mark Twain," Max said. "I'm not happy with leaving you alone again."
They both knew that the first time he had left her alone had been when he had been killed – or, almost killed, depending on how you looked at it – on the shores of the Thames in Londinium in 150 AD.
"No, I'm much more interested now in who took the second chair," Sierra said. "And I agree that it's not a good idea for us to split forces in these circumstances."
"So maybe we should have a drink in the bar after all," Max said, "and see if anyone arrives."
"That could take months or longer," Sierra said, "but a drink is a good idea."
Max pointed to the weak incandescent bulb that lit the room. "I wonder if they have a way, back here, of knowing if a Chair has arrived in the room – they seem to already have some kind of primitive electrical wiring."
"Could be," Sierra said. "We can ask Mr. Charles."
"Hell, we can ask him who took the Chair," Max said.
"He won't tell us – they don't usually talk about those things."
The two walked out of the room and closed the door.
"Was that bulb flashing?" Max asked. "I just caught a glimpse."
Sierra re-opened the door. The incandescent bulb was indeed flashing. "Could be an alert for an arriving Chair," Sierra said.
She closed the door and they both walked a little down the winding stairs. They both knew that standing in too close proximity to an arriving or departing Chair could be lethal.
They slowly walked back up the stairs after a few minutes. They heard noise in the room within. The door opened.
"Fancy meeting you two here," John Jacob Astor said, beaming, and extended his hand for a handshake with Max and a squeeze of the hand with Sierra.
***
Sierra knew this changed everything with Astor, instantly making him less and more dangerous. He had not only heard about time travel from Thomas, he was doing it himself. So he was less dangerous in terms of knowing their secrets, but more so in terms of what he might be doing with these Chairs.
Sierra also noted that Astor was wearing the exact same clothes as when they last saw him, little more than an hour ago.
Astor caught the meaning of Sierra's appraising expression. "I went back to 1881 to help Bell with the funding for his telephone device – marvelous invention," Astor said. "Most people back then don't yet see that – William Orton, God rest his soul, President of Western Union when the telephone was patented, declined to invest. He was under the misapprehension that the telephone would never be more than a scientific toy."
Sierra nodded.
"In any event, I'll leave you two to your business with these Chairs," Astor said jovially and winked. "You don't yet know me well enough that I would presume to ask where you are going. I'll see you tomorrow night at the concert." He tipped his hat – which Sierra for the first time noticed he was wearing – and walked quickly down the spiral stairs.
"Maybe we should postpone the visit with Mark Twain," Max said, "and see if we can find out more about this Astor guy."
"My thoughts exactly," Sierra said. "And I'm regretting as always that our digital devices don't survive our travels with the Chairs – Heron's doing, I once brought back a little digital dictionary to
"Thank you," Sierra said.
"Who used the second chair," Max said quietly to Sierra, as to the two slowly walked up the stairs to the library floor, then to the second library floor, about half a staircase behind Cyril Charles. "We haven't been here that long, since we arrived with the two Chairs."
"Very good question," Sierra said.
The three climbed the final, winding set of stairs. Cyril Charles opened the door to the room with the Chairs. "I shall leave you to your business," he said, in his courtly way. He bowed and walked back down the stairs.
Sierra and Max entered the room, which indeed contained only one Chair. "I suppose you want to take the one Chair to 1906 and Mark Twain," Max said. "I'm not happy with leaving you alone again."
They both knew that the first time he had left her alone had been when he had been killed – or, almost killed, depending on how you looked at it – on the shores of the Thames in Londinium in 150 AD.
"No, I'm much more interested now in who took the second chair," Sierra said. "And I agree that it's not a good idea for us to split forces in these circumstances."
"So maybe we should have a drink in the bar after all," Max said, "and see if anyone arrives."
"That could take months or longer," Sierra said, "but a drink is a good idea."
Max pointed to the weak incandescent bulb that lit the room. "I wonder if they have a way, back here, of knowing if a Chair has arrived in the room – they seem to already have some kind of primitive electrical wiring."
"Could be," Sierra said. "We can ask Mr. Charles."
"Hell, we can ask him who took the Chair," Max said.
"He won't tell us – they don't usually talk about those things."
The two walked out of the room and closed the door.
"Was that bulb flashing?" Max asked. "I just caught a glimpse."
Sierra re-opened the door. The incandescent bulb was indeed flashing. "Could be an alert for an arriving Chair," Sierra said.
She closed the door and they both walked a little down the winding stairs. They both knew that standing in too close proximity to an arriving or departing Chair could be lethal.
They slowly walked back up the stairs after a few minutes. They heard noise in the room within. The door opened.
"Fancy meeting you two here," John Jacob Astor said, beaming, and extended his hand for a handshake with Max and a squeeze of the hand with Sierra.
***
Sierra knew this changed everything with Astor, instantly making him less and more dangerous. He had not only heard about time travel from Thomas, he was doing it himself. So he was less dangerous in terms of knowing their secrets, but more so in terms of what he might be doing with these Chairs.
Sierra also noted that Astor was wearing the exact same clothes as when they last saw him, little more than an hour ago.
Astor caught the meaning of Sierra's appraising expression. "I went back to 1881 to help Bell with the funding for his telephone device – marvelous invention," Astor said. "Most people back then don't yet see that – William Orton, God rest his soul, President of Western Union when the telephone was patented, declined to invest. He was under the misapprehension that the telephone would never be more than a scientific toy."
Sierra nodded.
"In any event, I'll leave you two to your business with these Chairs," Astor said jovially and winked. "You don't yet know me well enough that I would presume to ask where you are going. I'll see you tomorrow night at the concert." He tipped his hat – which Sierra for the first time noticed he was wearing – and walked quickly down the spiral stairs.
"Maybe we should postpone the visit with Mark Twain," Max said, "and see if we can find out more about this Astor guy."
"My thoughts exactly," Sierra said. "And I'm regretting as always that our digital devices don't survive our travels with the Chairs – Heron's doing, I once brought back a little digital dictionary to
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