“Okay, but I suspect you knew more than you told me. I remember you telling me that knowledge of American history was something that we might need. At the time, I didn’t see the connection, but now…”
“You remember that I told you we detected several anomalies?”
“Yes, you told me you suspected they were ripples caused by a disparity between earth-time and space-time.”
“Most correct. What we determined, in fact, was that at the site of each beacon, some major historical event occurred. I left that out before, not wanting to influence your findings. I did not want you making assumptions about what you found at the beacon site, you see. If you knew they were related to a particular historical event, you would look for evidence of that; which is one of the reasons we wanted someone who was not connected with our project and had no pre-conceived ideas about the nature of the anomalies.”
“I guess that sounds reasonable. So the historical event at our beacon site was the Cherokee Removal of 1838. What were you expecting us to find there?”
“We honestly had no idea. As I said, there were several hypotheses. One was that the ripple was just an echo of the event, a sort of ghost, if you will, and no visible artifact existed. Another was that the site would reveal some previously unfound archeological evidence to be studied. My goodness, being transported back to the time of the event was too farfetched to suggest, although I’m sure it crossed the minds of some of our more imaginative engineers.”
“Well, now what? Now that you know the LANav’s capability to transport people back in time, I suppose you can consider the device a huge success.”
“On the contrary. The enormity of the discovery is astounding, of course, but it is a disaster as a commercial enterprise. A device with such power could never be made available as a consumer product, you see. We have no idea what effect a visit to the past may have on our current timeline. Changing something that already occurred could be more devastating than nuclear weapons!”
“We considered the possibility of time-paradoxes. In our situation we were more concerned with our immediate survival than changing history.”
“That’s because you weren’t prepared to suddenly find yourself transported back in time, you see. If someone went back with the intention of making a change, well, who knows what the outcome might be. As you can imagine, this will require years of careful scientific study. And the discovery will have to be kept in the utmost secrecy, of course. We will not even be able to announce our findings for fear that someone else will make reckless or unethical use of the technology! My goodness, your adventure was history making, but none of us can go public about it, at least for now.”
“That’s something I hadn’t considered. But my question is still valid—now what? Do you intend to turn this over to the government? I’m not sure that’s a good idea either.”
“Nor am I. At the moment I don’t have an answer for you. Private research may be the best alternative, but the type of funding required for such long term analysis may be out of reach for anyone except the government. And I have my current investors to consider, of course. In fact, with this revelation my only choice may be to report that the project was a complete failure, and likely ruin my reputation by doing so.
“If I may, I suggest the four of you accompany me back to Boston. I will put together a small core of key engineers that can be depended upon to remain discreet, and they will want to talk to you folks as the pioneers of this technology. Together we can discuss the options and determine how to proceed, you see. I believe if you are willing, there will be long-term involvement in this project for your team.”
“I don’t think any of us would object to a meeting in Boston,” Adam said, getting nods of agreement from his team. “We need to take care of a few matters down here first, though.” That statement brought quizzical glances from the others. “Our departure from 1838 was abrupt, and while it may not be important to the technical nature of your device, we were all intensely involved with people’s lives while we were there. I believe we’d all like to do some research of our own, of a more personal nature, to see if we can determine what became of them.”
“I certainly understand,” said Odan. “If you please, you can drop me off at the Atlanta airport, and meet me in Boston tomorrow. Will that give you enough time to complete your research, my friend?”
“A day of searching historical records should tell us what we need to know.”
“Wonderful. I’ll make the flight arrangements, call you with the details, and see you there tomorrow. I, ahem, trust you will keep all this confidential?”
“You can depend on it. Who’d believe us anyway?”
After depositing Odan at the airport Adam made a quick stop to change clothing. Their luggage with spare clothes was in the SUV, and showers could wait until they checked into a hotel. They still looked rugged from hiking through the brambles, and everyone except Tom bore battle scars, but at least they had clean clothing.
Adam headed to the Georgia Institute of Technology. Dr. Odan told them that Georgia Tech had one of the best research libraries in Atlanta, and provided them with an associate’s name to use as a contact. At the library, the mention of Dr. Odan’s name got them priority assistance from a seasoned library research director without a second glance at their scratched and bruised faces. They explained the type of materials they were looking for, and the director led them to the appropriate areas, pointed out a conference table and computer kiosk they could use, and gave them a priority logon. He provided his telephone extension, told them not to hesitate if they needed anything, and left them to work undisturbed.
They began with a search of the Dawes Rolls. Although the Dawes Rolls began in 1898, the rolls seemed the most likely place to begin looking for the family names they intended to research. The Dawes Rolls are lists of individuals who were confirmed members of the so-called “Five Civilized Tribes,” the Cherokee, Creek, Choctaw, Chickasaw and Seminole, created as an inducement to those tribes to give up their sovereignty in exchange for allotments of land. The rolls were highly disputed; many fraudulent applicants, tempted by the promise of free land, had been disqualified, and many legitimate Cherokee were either unable to provide the required documentation or refused to apply.
The team discovered the rolls contained many individuals with the names Carter, Rogers, Ward, and Deerinwater, as all four names were pervasive among the Cherokee. Since the rolls were compiled more than fifty years after the removal, the team focused on the names of the children they knew, Billy and Sagi. Even at that, the task was problematic. Billy was a common name, and could be listed as Billy, Bill, William, or Will. There were fewer entries for the name Sagi, but they found the spellings of names were highly variable and could be spelled phonetically.
They turned to older records, circa 1800 census lists of Cherokee families, online genealogical databases, even military muster lists, hoping they could find references to the names they knew and trace them forward. The more sources they discovered, the more daunting the task became.
Adam suggested they take a different approach. “We should make a list of the things we know to be factual, where they were at the time we left, and combine that with the events in our historical records. For example, we know that Guwaya’s family was in North Carolina, and we have learned that the state did finally allow some Cherokee to remain. Those people became the Eastern Band of Cherokee. Let’s assume his family was one of them, so we can narrow our search for his family to the records pertaining to the Eastern Band. We don’t know for sure if John Carter intended to stay, but we can look for clues for him in those records as well.
“We also know that Jimmy and Rebecca went along with Benjamin’s family to Ross’s Landing. We can assume they at least got that far and search the records for their names on the steamboat logs. We can also look for records from Fort Smith, the final outpost they would have reached before entering Indian Territory.
“It’s still an overwhelmi
ng task, but we can divide it up to make it a little bit easier. We could research the family we were assigned to…” Adam wished there were a way to grab the words from the air and pull them back. He cursed himself for being so thoughtless, seeing the look of pain on Sal’s face as if he had struck him. “I’m sorry, Sal, I didn’t mean to…”
Sal reached into his pocket and retrieved the tin flint box Yonah had given him. He gave the box a gentle shake, grateful that it had been transported along with him. He shoved it back into his pocket.
“I know, dude. It’s okay. I’ll look for records of John Carter. You may not realize it yet, but we actually lost them all today.” It was a surprisingly astute and somber realization coming from Sal; everyone they had been with just this morning was now dead for many years.
With silent recollections of their friends and renewed focus, they continued their research. Tom was the first to make a significant discovery.
“There was something called the Mullay Roll, compiled in 1848, that recorded the Cherokees who remained in North Carolina after removal. It appears as if there was a Ward family among the original members of the Eastern Band. The head of household is listed as ‘Kuwaya.’ I looked up the word in the Cherokee language dictionary, and it’s one of the spellings for a word meaning ‘huckleberry’ which is what Guwaya told me his name meant. He had a family of four, wife Woyi, and two male children, unnamed. That has to be them! I think from this, we could trace their descendants using the later rolls.”
“Great find!” said Adam. “It would be interesting to trace their lineage, but what would you say to a descendant? ‘Hi, I knew your great, great, grandfather’s family back in 1838? I’m not as old as I look!’”
“No,” Tom chuckled. “I wasn’t thinking of making contact. Now that I know they survived, I’d just like to know how they lived, you know, and what became of the two boys.”
“I do know. I’d really like to know what became of Jimmy and Rebecca. Jimmy has, er, I mean had such an active and brilliant mind. I’m sure he would have done well for himself if he ever got the chance.”
“Oh, dear, no luck finding them in the records so far?” Alice asked.
“A lot of references to Deerinwater, but that was a common name. I haven’t found anything to confirm his particular family. How about you? Find anything on the Benjamin Rogers family?”
“Actually, yes, I think so. Rogers was also a common name, so I’m having the same problem as you. But there is something called the Drennen Roll from 1852 that lists the Cherokees who came to Indian Territory on the Trail of Tears. It mentions a Benjamin Rogers and son, Billie, and two slaves, but says ‘wife deceased’. Oh, my. If that’s our Benjamin Rogers, it means that…” Alice didn’t finish her thought.
Adam finished it for her. “It means she didn’t make it. The Cherokee lost nearly one-third of the population on the Trail of Tears. Three of the handful of people we met died, and the long exodus to the west had hardly begun. Not talking about it doesn’t make it any less horrible.”
“No, it doesn’t. I can’t help thinking about poor Benjamin though, losing Catherine. His heart was already broken when Sally…” Alice’s eyes reddened and her tears flowed at the mention of Sally. “Sorry. I know they’re all gone now, but Sally’s death really got to me.”
“Of course it did,” Adam said. “You don’t need to apologize for showing emotion about losing a friend, especially when the friend was a young child. She was a charming little girl, and you got really close to her. Sally was obviously taken with you as well. No surprise there, you can be pretty charming yourself, you know.” Adam’s compliment was rewarded with the smile he hoped for. “You know, I wonder if part of the reason we were taken back there was to stir our emotions. We read about these types of injustices that occurred long ago and somehow they don’t seem quite real—more like a story. Not quite the same as living through it. Maybe we need to be reminded once in a while that these things happened to real people.”
“Hey, look at this,” said Sal. “I think I’ve found something on John Carter. There are a few John Carters listed on the Mullay Rolls, but here’s one who became active in the tribal government. This dude worked as a liaison to the U.S. government, helping to negotiate terms for allotments and making sure they received payments they were promised. That certainly sounds like our Squanto!”
Sal poked at the book with his finger. “And there’s some stuff here saying that he claimed to have seen the future, and knew without a doubt that the relations between whites and Tsalagi would improve. You think he was talking about us, man?”
“Could be,” said Adam. “It would be nice to know we had some positive effect while we were there.”
“It also says that he eventually moved to West Virginia and had a large family there. His ancestors still live there and in the Charlottesville, Virginia area. Hey, ain’t that your old stomping ground, Tom? You got some Carters in your family tree?”
“It’s quite possible,” said Tom. “I have attempted some genealogical research on our family, but with little success. It seems as if some of my ancestors were very guarded about their backgrounds. I will endeavor to perform a more exhaustive search someday.”
“Yeah, dude, you should do that. Maybe you’ll find out ol’ Squanto was your great, great, granduncle!” Sal teased.
“That would be most interesting—and flattering to have an ancestor who was a statesman,” Tom said.
“Here’s something else that’s interesting,” said Adam.
“Did you find something about Jimmy and Rebecca?” Alice asked.
“I’m not sure. There were so many references to the Deerinwater name that I started doing online searches for each one. I traced one name to a guy who posted a bunch of his ancestor’s letters. There are a few letters from a Jimmy Deerinwater, written to his wife Rebecca, while he was attending a mechanical engineering school in Canada. This must be him! It’s good to see he got to further his education. He mentions in each of the letters how much he misses the children, so I guess they did raise a family.”
“You already knew that,” said Alice.
“How would I have known? Rebecca was pregnant but she hadn’t had the baby before we left.”
“No, dear, but you said an ancestor published the letters.” Alice regarded him with a “duh” look.
“Oh, yeah. Good point,” he said, ignoring her scoff. “Now this is fascinating; the letter mentions he has a friend at school named Robert Dunbar, with whom he spends hours discussing the inventions of Oliver Evans. Dunbar was the engineer who helped Joseph Dart to invent the grain elevator. I was the one who told Jimmy about Oliver Evans!”
“Oh, get real,” Sal scoffed. “You think that you mentioning Oliver Evans to Jimmy led to the invention of the grain elevator?”
“Well… I suppose it would have happened anyway. But it is an interesting coincidence.”
“Yeah, dude, well I wouldn’t go submitting my name to Who’s Who just yet.”
Adam just shook his head at Sal. “At least I’m pretty sure from this that Jimmy and Rebecca survived the journey. And since Dunbar worked on a lot of projects in Buffalo, New York and along the Erie Canal, maybe Jimmy worked on a few with him. I wonder if he ever got to meet Cyrus McCormick?”
“Now that’s a good possibility,” said Alice. “If he was as bright as you say, Dunbar would most likely have kept in touch with him, and McCormick’s company was probably looking for good engineers.”
“Speaking of bright people,” Tom segued to another subject, “what about Dr. Odan? We agreed to meet him in Boston for a discussion, but what’s the long-term plan?”
Adam knew they needed to have a conversation eventually. They had uncovered as much as they could for now about their surviving friends, so it was as good a time as any. “It sounded to me like he hoped to find private funding to continue research on the LANav. And I think he wanted us to be part of it.”
“Doing what, exactly?” asked Tom.
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“Field testing, I would imagine.”
“Field testing a time machine?” said Alice. “My goodness, are we qualified for that?”
Now it was Adam’s turn to look at her incredulously. “We have more experience than anyone else in the world, don’t we?”
“Good point,” she said, imitating his earlier response.
“The question is,” said Adam, “is it something we would consider?”
“It would certainly be a unique career path,” said Tom. “Yes, I’m pretty sure I’d be willing to be part of a history-making project.” Alice nodded her agreement, and the three looked at Sal for his input.
“Are you for real?” he grimaced. “You’re asking me if I want to be a professional time-traveler? Put my life in danger by following some cockamamie gizmo to who knows where or even when, and might not ever bring us back? Are you asking if I want to play some bizarre game of geocaching through time with you dudes?”
“Yeah,” Adam smiled. “That’s what we’re asking.”
Sal’s scowl transformed into a sly, beaming grin. “Sure, man, why not? Just call me a Timecacher.”
Glossary
A-gi-`yo-si—I am hungry
Ahni—Strawberry
Alisdayvdi—Food
Anetsa—Cherokee ball game
Ani-sahoni—Blue Holly clan
Ani-tsisqua—Bird clan
Ani-yunwiya—Cherokee People, Tsalagi
Asduda—Shut up, hush
Chooja—Boy
Dagul-ku—American white-fronted goose
Dayunisi—Water beetle
Dodadagohvi—Until we see each other again, speaking to one person
Donadagohvi—Until we see each other again, speaking to a group
Elisi—Grandmother
Gahawista—Parched corn
Gah-no-hay-na—Hominy mush drink often served to visitors
Gili(s)—Dog(s)
Gili-utsun-yi—Milky Way (where the dog ran)
Guque—Quail
Guwaya—Huckleberry
Guwisguwi—John Ross, great bird
Timecachers Page 53