Could the man possibly be telling the truth? And yet, the clear details he’d given about Inca society…those couldn’t be made up. The possibilities were endless. Ian had a chance to see mankind evolve from early times, firsthand. And yet…
“You can’t just go traipsing through history. What if you change something again? What if something you do in the past causes some kind of paradox in the present? I don’t remember it happening, but you tell me you singlehandedly rewrote South American history.” Not that David didn’t trust Ian, but come on? Saving a mere boy prevented the Spanish from conquering the Inca?
Ian’s smile fell, only to return a moment later. “Then we don’t let that happen. Wherever I go, it’ll have to be somewhere I won’t make an impact.” His smile vanished again. “That means if someone is dying, I can’t intervene, even if I know how to save them.” He took a long drink of wine and stared out at the night sky. A boy. He’d let a boy die to save the world as David knew it.
After a few moments Ian spoke again. “But could you imagine what good we could do? We could save pieces of lost cultures. Preserving ways of life long gone from the world. Do you have any idea how much we could learn?” He heaved out a sigh.
“But we can’t. What if you took some minor trinket destined for some great role? What if you took an ointment bottle, for example, and someone, or a whole village of someones, died as a result?”
“Then whatever I take will have to be something lost in history, that’ll never be needed again.” He set his lips in a thin line of determination. “Most of the artifacts from this area got melted down for their gold, or carted off to Spain by ship. Many of those ships sank. What if I got there first? Remember the statue I told you about, the joining statue of the two men? I only saw it for a moment when I went back, but it’s real, David, it’s real. What if I could find it? Can you imagine, evidence of a highly esteemed male couple, cast in pure gold?”
If the statue was cast in pure gold, the subjects had to be pretty important. Ian, ever the gay rights activist, would see this as validation of societies accepting same-sex couples as the norm. He might have a point, though David couldn’t say so openly. To him it could only be an historical relic. But still, to find such a treasure intact? “How do you propose to find it?”
Ian grinned. “Well, I always wanted to be a pirate.”
“A what?” David’s glare should have reduced Ian to ash.
“A pirate. All I need to do is find a ship in need of a captain. I’ve got sea knowledge from growing up on North Carolina’s Outer Banks. I come from a long line of sailors. I know tides, I know sailing. And best of all, I’ll have prior knowledge of what I’m looking for and where it is.” He placed a hand on his chest. “Don’t you think I could clean up and pass for a gentleman? What I don’t know, I’ll charm out of folks.”
Now that, Ian could surely do, like he’d charmed David to at least open the closet door, if not emerge. “A pirate. You’re serious?”
“Well, yeah. I mean, I’d have to learn about warfare in that time, what weapons to used, etcetera, but I can learn all that on the Internet, or from some history professor on campus who reeeallly loves his job.”
A pirate. A real live pirate. “And what if something happens to you?” No thrilling adventure could be worth Ian’s life.
“Then I just wrap my fingers around this little gem, and bam! I’m home.”
This whole idea was ridiculous. A pirate? Really?
But looking at Ian sprawled in the chair, wine-filled glass in hand and boot heels resting on the window sill, David could easily imagine him sailing under the Jolly Roger.
Did they dare?
They stayed up late into the night.
“The Lady Claire disappeared on November 4, 1816, off the coast of Ireland. What if I got there on the third?” Ian’s face had to hurt from grinning so much.
It was up to David to be the voice of reason. “How can we be sure you’ll escape her fate? We know how you get there, but how do you get back?”
“That’s easy.” A blush crept up Ian’s fair skin. “I just think