Alex emerged from the Portal and slid down the slope. As soon as she reached the bottom, Igor rushed over to her and gave her a big hug. "You did it! You did it! Congratulations," he said. It seemed that people enjoyed hugging her bruises.
Her relief to be back in Sandorra was tempered by her immense feeling of loss at leaving the Clemens family.
"Has history changed?" she asked.
"Yes," he said. "Susy survived, and Mark Twain's literary career spanned another twenty years." He stopped, and looked uncomfortable.
"What aren't you telling me?" Alex asked.
"Susy lived another ten years, but died at the age of twenty-four of spinal meningitis. But you gave her ten years of life. You gave the whole family many more years of happiness. And you enriched the literature of your world and Sandorra. Besides Mark Twain's additional works, Susy's biography was also published. You succeeded marvelously!" he exclaimed.
Susy had died at much too young an age, but in time Alex would be able to accept what a wonderful gift of ten years she had made to Susy. For now, though, Alex could only feel sadness that her friend would die young.
"What about the changes in Germany?" Alex asked. "Did that happen."
"Sadly, no," Igor answered. "Once again, after Susy's death, Mark Twain's works turned bitter and somber. By the turn of the century, he was a beloved historical figure, but he no longer had any real influence on the way people thought. The world wars started at the same time as they did before your trip."
Alex and Igor made their way through the portals back to their starting point, and soon stood outside Government House. Deanna and Joseph were there to welcome her back. Deanna ran to her and hugged her bruises heartily. Joseph did the same. Both were thrilled that she was back, and that she had been so successful in her mission.
"There's one thing I still don't understand," she said. "Who was Mr. Strong?"
They laughed. Joseph said, "He's someone you met before. He's known (to himself) as James Bond, Master of Disguise. It was his job to be there, but not to interfere in any way. He carried the records that enabled us to compare the 'new history' against the 'old history'."
Igor said, "He returned yesterday, told us the whole story, and brought back the records so that we could make the comparison. As it turns out, it's a good thing he chose to interfere. Without him, we don't know how things might have turned out."
"Where is he?" Alex asked. "I'd like to thank him."
"He told us he had to go off on another secret mission," Joseph said, "but we found out later that there was a plumbing emergency at his mother's house."
"But he said to give you his best regards," Igor added.
"Please thank him for me for everything," Alex asked. "But I guess I'd better get back home. How much time ...?"
"Don't worry," Igor said. "Only twenty-eight minutes have passed in your world."
"Deanna and I will take you back to the Bridge," Joseph said. They began to walk over to the same cart Alex had ridden before.
"Good-bye, Igor," Alex said. "I hope I'll see you again."
"You're the best time traveller we've ever found, Alex," he replied. "I'm sure we'll see you again someday." They hugged, then Alex climbed onto the cart.
On the trip back to the Bridge, Alex told Deanna and Joseph much of what had happened. They were full of questions, but realized how tired she was. Finally they reached the Bridge.
"One more thing you should know," Joseph said. "This may be just a coincidence, but right after you left, Mark Twain started a new book, which was published a few years later."
"How wonderful," Alex said. "What was it?"
"It was called A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court. Want to guess what it was about?"
"Tell me," Alex asked anxiously.
"It was about a time traveller who goes back into his own past and tries to make things better. Sound familiar?" Joseph asked.
Alex was stunned. So Mark Twain did remember her!
She hugged Joseph and Deanna once again, and promised she would find a way to visit again someday. They all had tears in their eyes as Alex went into the cold mist. A moment later, she came out on the other side, into the mossy ravine. Her footsteps were still there in the moss, but now they were the size of her shoes, no longer as big as moon craters. She walked quickly down the ravine to the stream. Then, on her hands and knees once again, she went under the rhododendron bushes and returned once again to her uncle's garden.