Doomsday Book (Oxford Time Travel, #1)

by Connie Willis

“Chapter 26, verse 39.” Mrs. Gaddson stopped, looking irritated, and then leafed through the pages to Matthew. “ ‘And he went a little farther, and fell on his face, and prayed, saying, O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me.’ ” God didn’t know where His Son was, Dunworthy thought. He had sent His only begotten Son into the world, and something had gone wrong with the fix, someone had turned off the net, so that He couldn’t get to him, and they had arrested him and put a crown of thorns on his head and nailed him to a cross. “Chapter 27,” he said. “Verse 46.” She pursed her lips and turned the page. “I really do not feel these are appropriate Scriptures for—” “Read it,” he said. “ ‘And about the ninth hour Jesus cried with a loud voice, saying, Ehi, Eloi, lama sabacthani? that is to say, My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?’ ” Kivrin would have no idea what had happened. She would think she had the wrong place or the wrong time, that she had lost count of the days somehow during the plague, that something had gone wrong with the drop. She would think they had forsaken her.