Robert stared. How powerful were they?
“In fact, the whole Women’s Liberation Movement would probably have been quashed before it even began. With all of the bitching and moaning that’s been going on in my time over women gaining power, running for president and getting elected in some countries… Yeah. That would’ve been nipped in the bud really fast. The Civil Rights Movement probably would have been stopped, too. And since greed seems to motivate everything, the richest men on the planet—the ones wealthy enough to fund the research and development needed to create time travel—would gain an even larger percentage of the planet’s wealth than they have now. I mean, they’d have years of Wall Street numbers they could capitalize on and use to get richer. Not to mention lotto numbers. And I’m sure they’d manipulate things so they could have more power. I hate to even think what would happen war-wise. Preemptive strikes to head off World War I and World War II? Preemptive invasions that would just make things worse? Biological weapons and atom bombs implemented sooner than they were?” She shook her head. “Yeah. Time travel has definitely not been invented in my time.” Her frown deepened. “And yet, here I am. I seem to have done the impossible, and I have absolutely no idea how I did it. I don’t even know how to explain it.”
Robert frowned. Could one travel through time without knowing it? Would not something momentous, if not frightening, take place during such an unnatural feat?
“I know it makes no sense,” she said, “but don’t give up on me yet. I may not be able to tell you how I came back in time, but I can prove to you that I did. I really can.”
A small, colorful, cylindrical object the size of his smallest finger rolled toward him, coming to rest against his shin. Robert picked it up and examined it. “What is this?” It appeared to be made of the plastic material she possessed so much of.
“That’s lip balm. You rub it on your lips to protect them from the sun and keep them from getting chapped. Keeps them nice and soft.”
He could attest to the softness of her lips, having explored them thoroughly with his own.
Robert set the small tube down and contented himself with staring at the many fascinating objects arrayed before him. Amazingly, each appeared more interesting than the last. “For what do you search?”
“Something with a date on it,” Beth murmured, wadding up the bloody tunic she refused to wash and dropping it over the side of the bed.
Robert leaned forward so he could better see the items she uncovered as she moved things around. “Are there, perchance, more small scraps of black material in there?”
Beth’s hands stilled. Her head came up. A teasing smile bloomed on her pretty face as her eyes met his. “Like my bra and panties, do you?”
Unaccountably, Robert found himself blushing.
She winked. “I’ll let you know if I find any.”
As soon as she resumed her search, Robert directed a quick look down at his lap to ensure the loose shirt he had donned earlier concealed his arousal.
“Aha! Here it is!”
His pulse leapt as he looked up, expecting to see scraps of midnight dangling between her fingers.
Alas, she held a folded pouch of some sort.
“What is it?”
“My wallet.” She unfolded it into a rectangle. “My birth date is on my driver’s license. So is the expiration date. See?” She withdrew a small, shiny piece of what appeared to be thick parchment from the wallet. Glancing at it, she started to lean forward and hand it to him. Her face fell. “Damn. It only gives the last two numbers, not the whole year. And I bet my credit card does the same thing.”
As she started to tuck it away again, he caught a glimpse of the front of it. “Wait.”
Pausing, she looked up. “What?”
He motioned to it. “Is that a portrait, Beth? A miniature, mayhap?”
She considered the card. “In a manner of speaking. It’s a picture ID. See?”
Robert took the card she offered him and stared at it with amazement. Beth’s fair face smiled up at him beside a collection of numbers and words. “’Tis you! And ‘tis so clear!”
She shrugged. “As far as driver’s license pictures go, I guess it’s a pretty good one. My last one was horrible. My eyes were half-closed and my mouth was open because I was answering a question the DMV lady asked just before she snapped the picture. I looked like a zombie.”
Robert knew not what a zombie was, but could not imagine Beth looking less appealing than she did in the miniature he held. “’Tis beautiful. The artist captured you perfectly. Though he added a bit of color to your eyes and lips.”
Beth laughed. “Actually, that was me. It’s makeup. A little eye liner, a little shadow, and some lipstick. After that last picture, I was trying to look my best.”
Robert frowned. “You stained your lips and eyes?”
“Aye.”