"It's a shame really," Rowan remarked, "you went to an awful lot of trouble."
"Well," the president said slowly, "I don't know but that it might be better to keep physics and metaphysics apart after this. Like church and state. Metaphysical questions, after all, are those that don't have answers."
A frown passed briefly over Pendelton's countenance. "Wait a minute," he said. "As I recall it, I said something about the wrong approach, I don't remember saying the jig was up. As far as I'm concerned, we've only tried the past so far, we haven't scratched the future.
"Take the year 2068 for example," Pendelton said, smiling at them, trying not to sound obnoxious. "If existence is really determined the events of that year are already written down ... sort of."
He suddenly whirled on Rowan. "There is no question of God changing his mind between now and then since there is nothing that could possibly happen between now and then that would surprise Him, give Him a reason for changing His mind, because if He did He would be violating His own definition which includes absolute knowledge of all events past and future."
Rowan, immovable, stared back at him.
"But we need two time machines," Pendelton resumed. "I know, these things are expensive but if you're really interested you'll ram it past the trustees."
"Stop!" Freylinghuysen said. "No, go ahead. Damn!"
"I won't go through this again," Rowan shouted, rising. "All he's going to do is play more tricks with words!"