The Probability Broach by L. Neil Smith Page B

sighed, giving in to the headshaking impulse again. “I said , Albert Gallatin was also the man who killed George Washington.”

VII: The Looking Glass
     

    JEFFERSON, THOMAS, b. 1743 C.E., d.50 A.L., 4th Pres., Old U.S., 44-50 A.L.; auth., Decl. of Ind., Rev. Art. of Confed.; philos., invent., coll. of T. Paine, A. Gallatin; hist. acknowl. respon. for slavery abolition (44 A.L.) which he pursued all his public life; wounded by assassin (35 A.L.) whom he killed, during anti-slavery speech; oppon. of A. Hamilton, Federalist “Constitution”; elected Pres., succ. E. Genêt Notable achiev. during term: Jefferson Doctrine outlining N. Amer. mil. and pol. isolationism while eliminating trade barriers and opposing Eur. imperialism in New World. Died in office, July 2, 50 A.L., succ. by V. Pres. J. Monroe. (SEE: Slavery; Metric System; Coinage; Calendar; Internal Combustion; & Forsyth Pistol.)
    — Encyclopedia of North America
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    Can time run edgewise? Or can a lifetime of memories turn out to be only a delusion? Those were about the only choices I had. There was a third: that I was hallucinating now. But, delusion though it might be, my life had taught me to trust my own judgment, and each time I questioned it, I’d been disastrously wrong. Every time someone urged me to doubt it for my “own good,” there had been an ulterior motive. I wouldn’t begin doubting myself now.
    Which brought me back to the original fork in the road: either my whole life until now had been some kind of dope dream, or somehow history had shifted sideways. Correction: I had been shifted sideways in time.
    Hold on, wasn’t there some book … something about Grant’s horse throwing him and—That’s right! If the South Had Won the Civil War, by MacKinlay Kantor. If I’d been dropped into that world—two American States, one United and one Confederate; Cuba a southern state and Alaska still Russian—I’d be almost as confused as I was now! And it had all started with Grant getting killed before he’d won the war. Okay, what was the first difference between this strangely revised history and the one I learned in school? According to Clarissa, there’d never been a Civil War, so something must have resolved the tariff and slavery issues. Whatever it was, there would be, in turn, some previous cause, and so on, right back to the Declaration of Independence. Could it be that the Fourth of July was on July second? Could two measly little days change the face of everything I knew? It didn’t seem possible, but I was here!
    And where, oh, where, was the world I’d been born into, grown up in, loved and hated? Did it still exist? Had it ever existed?
     
    THAT AFTERNOON, ED kept me company while Clarissa was calling on another patient. I caught myself hoping it was some fat old lady. Like every foreign traveler, I was discovering that I could brace myself for big differences like steam-powered hovercraft on grass-covered thoroughfares, but little differences—physicians who make housecalls—seemed almost too much.
    Ed stifled a snicker as he came into the room. Everywhere Clarissa thought there was something wrong with me, whether inflicted in the last few hours or not, there were wires, coils, and antennae. She believed firmly I’d had one foot in the grave and the other on a vaudeville cliche for years. Some were connected to oddball hardware she’d left behind, or even to the phone—pardon me, Telecom. Some weren’t connected to anything at all—they just sprouted.
    The major features of this ridiculous setup were large plastic pillows full of circuitry, placed as close as possible to every broken bone in my body. A miniature pair had even been attached to my big toe, like oversized Chiclets. Clarissa called them Basset coils—something about calcium ions—and claimed I’d be up and around in days instead of months.
    I must have looked miserable, wired up like the Bride of Frankenstein, but a lot of