Lyon's Legacy: Catalyst Chronicles, Book One (8 page)

November 5, 1961

Dear Sean,

Thanks for the hospitality last night. I hope you and Grandma Mary didn’t waste too much time worrying about me after I left. Are you reading this in 1980? Are you world-famous by now? Did you and your wife Baby inspire a revolution in the Philippines and have a son named John? If you did, then your life paralleled that of my own great-granddad closely enough that I have to warn you of something. But first, I have to explain who I am and where I come from.

As you’ve probably guessed, I’m not your cousin, I’m not from California, and while I do want to study genetics, I didn’t come to Chicago for graduate school. I’m the great-granddaughter of a Sean Franklin Lyon from another unive
rse. It’s a weird property of physics that every time there’s a choice to be made, the universe splits. This happens all the time, so there are innumerable universes existing alongside our own. I can’t explain this too well; I’m not a quantum physicist. People know more about alternate universes in my time than they do in yours, but I think you should still be able to find some information. You can always read some science fiction; it doesn’t all come true in my time, but a surprising amount does.

I’m telli
ng you all this because I don’t want you to die the way my ancestor did in my universe. Please keep in mind, Great-Granddad, that IT DOES NOT HAVE TO BE THIS WAY. For all I know, it won’t happen to you at all; this universe may be different enough to ensure that it won’t. But not even I can predict your future; this is just one possible future, one I hope you can avoid.

On December 6, 1980, you and Great-Grandma perform a charity concert at a local venue. Among the fans in the audience is Joseph
Balani, a Filipino exile working as a security guard at the Museum of Science and Industry. As you’re leaving the stage, he rushes up and stabs you in the chest. You don’t make it to the hospital in time.

I had to pause. When I was a child, it’d been awful enough learning about Sean’s murder, but he’d been more of a family myth than a real person to me. Now that I’d met him, it felt even worse. Just putting the words down on paper was a battle; I knew I wouldn’t have been able to tell him face-to-face, even if he’d listened. But this was the only way to make sure it wouldn’t happen here. I drained my coffee, then continued,

I can’t tell you how to cheat death—I’m sure you and Great-Grandma can think of something. But please take this warning seriously. Balani blames you for his political exile. He doesn’t hurt just you; he screws up the life of every Lyon after you. You don’t know what it’s like to grow up as one of your descendants. Because you died so young in my universe, we’re expected to replace you. And that’s impossible. I used to hate you...

I wondered if I should cross that last part out or start over. At one point, I’d wanted to scream those words at him, but I no longer had the heart to. Then I thought about him and smiled. He of all people would understand.

I have more musical talent than my cousins, so my dad’s family pressured me to become a musician. But I’m not as gifted as you, and it’s not my passion the way genetics is. They tried to make me tour, but it didn’t work out. Meeting the real you, not some mythological figure, helped me come to terms with my family—and myself. I know people will always compare me to you, but it’s not going to bother me so much anymore. No matter what they want from me, I’m going to live my own life. I hope your life is a long and happy one, and that you get to spend more time with Great-Grandma and Granddad John. Maybe you’ll even live long enough to see “my” birth. To quote from one of your best-known songs, knowing isn’t everything, but sometimes it’s the only thing.

Love from your alternate great-granddaughter,

Joanna Lyon

I placed the letter in an envelope, sealed it, and wrote “For Sean—Do not open until December 1, 1980” on the front of the envelope. That would give him a few days to back out of the concert or hire more bodyguards; I hoped it was enough.

Now, how to make sure he’d get the letter at the right time? For that, I’d have to trust my great-grandmother. I stuffed Sean’s letter inside another
envelope, then wrote a short note: “Baby, Please hold onto this letter until the right time. It will bring you good luck. Love, An Admirer.” From what I knew of her, she was superstitious enough to believe that. I wrote down as much as I remembered of her snail mail address and hoped a post office would help me later with the rest.

I tucked the letter in my purse,
then checked the envelope for my plane tickets back to the base. It was empty. How had I lost them? I dumped the purse out on the table and checked every pocket, but I couldn’t find anything. For a black moment, I wondered if Pluckenreck had been so eager to get rid of me that she hadn’t bothered providing me with a way back. But then my uncle would never get his priceless DNA sample. I examined the ticket envelope again and found a phone number. Relief flooded through me, only to change to irritation when Pluckenreck refused to believe I had the sample.

“It doesn’t matter how strange you find the TwenCen, Ms. Lyon.” I could hear a sneer in her vo
ice. “You’re here until you fulfill your mission.”

“I did.” I wished I had a handheld so I could send her proof. This antique telephone was so limited.

“You didn’t even have a plan to meet Sean,” she accused me. “You can’t be done already.”

“You don’t thin
k we Lyons are smart enough to work fast?”

Silence on the other end, followed by a huff. “I’ll believe it when I see it. Take the Greyhound bus back to Phoenix,
then call me again. If you’re wasting my time....”

I hung up before she could finish.

It didn’t take me long to realize she’d directed me to the bus to punish me. The nightmare lasted four days—four days of bumpy roads, greasy meals, and awkward attempts to clean myself in dirty restrooms. The only good thing about it was I was able to find a post office, ask the clerk how to send a letter to the Philippines, and mail Baby’s letter during one of the stops. When I called Pluckenreck after arriving in Phoenix, she humphed at me, told me to wait there, and disconnected. She showed up an hour later in a contemporary car. Pluckenreck rolled down the window and stuck out her hand. “Let me see the sample.”

I didn’t give it to her—I had a sudden flash of her snatching it and abandoning me—but I held it so she could see the label. She sighed. “Get in. They can
test it at the base.”

Relieved, I crept into the seat next to her.

She drove us out of the city, into a desert that seemed to go on forever. Neither of us spoke to the other on the trip. When we arrived back at the mining camp, she took us underground and led me straight to a lab even smaller than the one on the
Sagan
. For a brief moment, I wondered if George had transferred down here and what I’d say to him. But I didn’t recognize the technician scanning sample pens.

“Give it to him,” Pluckenreck told me
.

Repressing a sigh, I handed over one of the DNA-filled samplers and hoped it was the right thing to do.

“Could I have the rest of the samplers?” he asked me. “If they haven’t been used, we can give them to other travelers.”

Keeping my expression as neutr
al as I could, I dug two pristine samplers out of my purse. Had anyone kept track of how many samplers I’d been given? Could I pretend I’d lost the other one?

“That’s only three,” Pluckenreck said. “Where’s the other one?”

I felt my face flush and knew I wouldn’t get away with a lie. I couldn’t even look the tech in the eyes after retrieving the final sampler, the one with Sean’s DNA. I could imagine Sean scowling at me and wanted to apologize again.

The tech nodded at me. “It’ll be a few hours before the r
esults are ready. You can grab some lunch in the mess hall or relax in the rec room.”

“Is there someplace I can borrow a handheld?” I asked. “Or are we not allowed them down here?”

“There are a couple of entertainment handhelds in the rec room, but they’re offline.”

I’d been hoping to contact George, but I thanked him anyway.

I showered and changed into my cleanest set of TwenCen clothes, then headed for the mess hall. The meatloaf was lukewarm and salty, but since meat was more common on this Earth than mine, I paid attention to every bite. As I considered dessert, another traveler from my classes came in. He wore a suit and tie similar to those I’d seen men wearing in Chicago. I wondered if he still had to leave on his mission or if he’d already completed his, like me.

He passed by my table on the way to the buffet. “Do you know when the next shuttle leaves?” I asked.

“They only run at night,” he replied. “But I don’t know if the wormhole storm threw off the schedule, or if they’ll be pulling us all out of here.”

I sat up straight. “The wormhole storm?”

“Yes. It happened a few days ago. All sorts of exotic particles spewed out of the wormhole, and it even shrank.”

I crumpled my napkin. “Was the ship damaged?”

“It’s fine. They raised their shields in time. They say the planet isn’t in any danger either. But the physicists are still trying to figure out what it means, if anything.”

“Why? Is this something new?”

He nodded. I thought back to my letter. Had I really done something that would change history? But Sean hadn’t read it yet; it was still on the way to Baby. I couldn’t have possibly disturbed the universe.

Pluckenreck returned. “There you are, Ms. Lyon. Come to my office. I want a full report on your trip.
”

She didn’t get one. Oh, sure, I told her about Grandma Mary and the concert. I sang one of Sean’s songs for her; she tapped her foot in time with the beat, but she didn’t crack a smile. I even described taking the DNA sample. But I left out my outburst a
t the concert and the letter I mailed to Baby. She still didn’t seem satisfied.

“And you’re sure you didn’t tell him about his future?” she asked over and over. “Not his success, not his murder?”

“Of course not,” I said. I willed myself not to flush.

She
watched me for a couple of seconds, her eyebrows drawn together skeptically. “And you didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary?”

“Compared to our world, all of it was.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t know if you’ve heard yet, but there was some unusual activity associated with the wormhole. I just want to make sure the travelers didn’t have anything to do with it.”

I played dumb. “How could they do that?”

“By changing the history of this planet.”

“But aren’t we already affecting events just by being here
?”

“Not on a scale that affects the wormhole.” She sighed and pushed her glasses into place. “And I want to keep it that way.”

I stared at her while her words sank in. If I really had changed the wormhole, were we stuck here? And she was going to get us unstuck by letting Sean get murdered? I wanted to protest, but she stared at me so coldly I knew I’d incriminate myself if I spoke.

Her TwenCen phone rang. She turned away from me as she identified herself,
then listened to the person on the other end. Sweat gathered in my armpits. When she finished her call, she regarded me for a few seconds before saying, “They’ve verified your DNA sample is from the test subject. You can take tonight’s shuttle back to the
Sagan
. Until then, you’re free to wander around the base.” The expression in her pale eyes finally warmed. “Well done, Ms. Lyon.”

As relieved as I was to escape, I didn’t feel I’d done a good job at all.

* * *

With trepidation, I watched the
Sagan
grow larger in the shuttle’s overhead holoprojector. Would George be willing to help me wrest control of the clone from Uncle Jackass, or would he despise me for completing my mission? Would he even want to talk to me again? If he didn’t, what about Ferdie, Liz, and Livia? It would be a long, dull trip back to my universe if they banned me from the genetics lab.

The docking and
repressurizing of the shuttle bay seemed to stretch out another month. At least there were only a few other passengers, so I was able to get off quickly. I scanned the shuttle bay for George, but he wasn’t there. Of course he wouldn’t have known when I was coming back. Still, all my energy drained out of me, and I trudged to my cabin. Maybe after a proper shower and a good night’s sleep on a firmfoam mattress, I’d feel up to facing him.

George waited in front of my door. I could see faint red indentations on his face from his safety glasses. He looked up from his handheld, and a smile lit up his face. Joy chased away my fatigue.

“Your name was on the passenger list,” he said, “but I wasn’t sure....”

I hesitated for a moment, not wanting to appear too eager, but when he approached me, I dropped the pretense and ran into his embrace. Our lips found each other as if they’d been magnetized.