He stared from piece to piece. "But how did they got it here?" he burst out.
Caroline's laughter rang through the room, a chiming, silver laughter that had a note of wild happiness in it.
"What's the matter?" demanded Tommy.
"I don't see anything funny," declared Herb. "Unless there is a joke.
Unless that chicken really isn't chicken.”
"It's chicken," Caroline assured him. "And the rest of the food is real, too. And so is that furniture. Only I didn't think of it as antique. You see, a thousand years ago that sort of furniture was the accepted style.
That was the smartest sort of pieces to have in your home.”
"But you?" asked Gary. "What did you have to do with it?”
"I told the Engineers," she said. "They asked me what we ate and I told them. They must have understood me far better than I thought. I told them the kind of clothes we wore and the kind of furniture we used. But, you see, the only things I knew about were out of date, things the people used a thousand years ago. All except the chicken. You still eat chicken, don't you?”
"And how," grinned Herb.