Page 18 of DATE
Chemistry, physics, mathematics, biology...
In the forty years of her life, from forty-five to eighty-five, it had felt as though she were a robin trapped in a swamp, struggling harder and harder to breathe.
Her investments had failed time and again. Although she had obtained patents, they were denied by the U.S. military. With the rise of television media, she became increasingly notorious.
She had written halfway when she suddenly looked up, taking deep breaths to block out the frustration building inside her.
Her nineteen years had already passed sixty-six years ago.
Many of her youthful memories needed to be constantly excavated and detailed, then recorded carefully on paper.
It felt like scraping the last bits of sugar from a clay jar with a small silver spoon—no matter how hard she tried, it never seemed enough.
Since her visit to the apothecary, Hedy had become quite uneasy about the city’s medical conditions.
The doctors here, since the great plague, had developed a habit of wearing bird-beak masks. The long silver beak and dark, hollow eyes were terrifying to look at.
She had studied history and knew how people in this era treated their ailments.
Bloodletting, using leeches to suck out wounds, applying snail slime, and even grinding up mummy powder to drink with water.
Absolutely—absolutely—never get sick.
Getting sick would surely have disastrous consequences.
She held the quill made from a raven’s feather, dipped it in ink, and crossed off "quinine" from the list.
Quinine was out of the question; she had asked many people in the city that day, and no one had ever heard of the cinchona tree. It was probably native to somewhere in Latin America.
"Aspirin" was also scratched off. The difficulty of manufacturing it was even higher; it was better to think of something more practical.
As she worked at the desk, Hedy’s thoughts unintentionally drifted back to the past.
Back then, her two children would play at her feet while she focused on completing charts for frequency-hopping communication, her mind full of thoughts about how to get the Navy to accept the technology.
Now, with no submarines, it seemed that much of her knowledge was no longer applicable.
She sighed and glanced at the orange peel in the glass dish.
The experiment with penicillin was still ongoing, and it had made virtually no progress.
If this could really come to fruition, it could potentially save many lives the next time a plague hit.
The next day was Sunday. The master and servant went together to church for Mass, where they would also partake in the Eucharist.
The priest wore an ivory-white robe, and the congregation was pious and solemn.
"May the love of the Father, the holy grace of Christ, and the gift of the Holy Spirit be with you all."
Hedy followed the gesture of the congregation, ensuring that her movements were flawless.
If she revealed she was Jewish in such a setting, it would be like walking into certain death.
"—And also with your spirit," the congregation responded.
"May the Father and Christ grant you grace and peace."
"—And also to you," she whispered softly.
