Paradox (Travelers Series Book 2) (19 page)

So the both of us nod and acknowledge our dates and go back to waiting in line for our coffee. I’m so thankful Battle Grounds is here in this reality. I can totally use a shot of espresso after this encounter. I patiently wait behind Alex, while Cooper stands next to me not saying a word. I’m sure he knows how uncomfortable this is for me, seeing he can probably hear my thoughts, but I guess he figures now’s not the time to bring it up.

It’s our turn to order, and as we wait for our drinks, I look around and notice all the tables are taken. I guess it’s coffee outside on the patio for us. Secretly, I’m thankful, as I don’t want to be sitting anywhere near Alex and Jenny. I don’t want anything ruining my night out with Cooper.

We get our orders and make our way outside, careful to avoid them. We take a seat at one of the tables. The very same table we sat at in the orphan reality, when Cooper asked me to trust him enough to go with him. That was almost two weeks ago and now here we are. I guess destiny does repeat itself. I realize I’m speaking out loud or at least, Cooper is reading my mind again.

“I’m glad you decided to trust me,” he says.

After spending time in a comfortable silence and mulling over everything that’s happened in my life recently, I come back to the present. “So, what movie do you want to watch?” We checked the movie times before we left and there’s another werewolf movie out. “What about Mystic Diner?” I’m a sucker for horror movies and this one’s supposed to be about a family of werewolves who run a small-town diner. Even if it sucks, it’ll get my mind off things for awhile. “Personally, I’m rather curious to find out if the townspeople get killed and offered up as the blue plate special, but that’s just me.”

Cooper laughs. “Speaking of which,” he says, looking at his watch. “It looks like we’re going to be late, if we don’t get going.”

T
he movie stunk the big one, but it did allow me to keep my mind occupied for a few hours. We’re on our way home and I’m bummed that the evening is about to come to an end. Despite bumping into Alex and Jenny, and the bad take on the werewolf/horror genre, I don’t want the date to be over. I stare out the window, as Cooper takes me home, and something clicks. There was something about the movie, where all the pack leaders die in the end, that triggered something while I was watching. I couldn’t place it at the time, but now I know what it is.

“I’m starting to sense a pattern,” I tell Cooper.

He takes his eyes off the road for a second. “What do you mean?”

“All our parents are dead. Maybe not in this reality, but in every parallel universe we’ve been to, recruiting our team, you always preface each encounter by telling me they’ve, at one point or another, lost their parents. I don’t know about Moose or the twins, but me, Jenny, and Taylor all have one, if not both parents, dead. It can’t be a coincidence I’m beginning to think, is it?”

Cooper shakes his head. “I didn’t even realize it was something that needed explaining. You see, that’s how your father and Oliver found their test subjects. Everyone we’ve gone looking for, all of those who form the rebellion, were at some point orphans in their respective realities. They figured with no parents around, there’d be no one to question their authority.”

“That’s pretty disturbing.” I can’t imagine taking advantage of those who have no one to defend them, but that’s exactly what they did.

Cooper reciprocates with a snort. “Yeah, well, altering the human brain is pretty disturbing on its own.”

“But what about Taylor? Her parents didn’t die in that fire until after she was recruited for the experiments.”

“She was one of the first test subjects. I have a feeling her folks were considered collateral damage and Oliver, with some help, got rid of them and pinned it on Taylor.”

“Coop, you don’t think—” I can’t even finish my thought. There’s no way my dad would be part of a scheme to eliminate Taylor’s parents. That’s just not something I’m willing to accept. Yes, he tried to play God with our heads and made us mutant freaks all in the name of science, but I can’t believe he’d kill someone because of it.

“No, darlin’. I don’t think your dad had anything to do with her parent’s death. Victor may have been a bit overzealous in testing mind altering drugs on kids, but I don’t think he’d resort to murder.”

I want to believe Cooper, but I still have my doubts, even if I don’t believe my dad would be a party to something like that. But if my dad isn’t responsible for those deaths, there’s still the question of whether or not he knew about it. “I guess we’ll just have to ask him when we get home.”

It’s after ten by the time we get to the house, but I know both my aunt and dad are still up. I head straight to the study, which is where my dad always seems to hide-out and knock on the door. I don’t even wait for him to answer before I open the door. “Dad, do you have a second?”

He motions for us to come in. “Of course, you know my door is always open,” he says, forgetting he’s already used that line on me before. “Not literally, of course.” He jokes.

“Dad,” I try to keep my focus and take on a serious tone. “We need to talk.”

“Well, of course. I imagine that’s why you’ve come knocking at my door at…” He glances at his watch. “Ten-thirty in the evening. Take a seat, both of you.”

I don’t even bother to sit, preferring to stand directly in front of him. “We want to know more about the drug trials you performed on us. More specifically, why is it almost everyone we’ve enlisted for our mission has parents that are dead?” I spit it all out in a rush of words. Cooper, who is standing right behind me, puts a protective hand on my shoulder for moral support.

“I was afraid of this, ever since Cooper got you wrapped up in the idea that you are meant to save the other reality. It’s not important, Etta.”

I slammed both hands on his desk. “Tell me,” I demand. I don’t like speaking to him like this, but he needs to know this information is important. I think I’ve shown incredible restraint regarding my feelings towards my dad. It’s not easy to just bottle up the pent up frustration I’ve had because of what’s he’s done to me. I’ve tried to put it behind me, because, well, he’s my dad. But enough is enough. Just how involved was my dad with Oliver on the testings they did on us?

My dad folds his hands in an attempt to remain calm. “There’s nothing to explain. Everyone recruited for the study was chosen based on a low risk factor.”

“Low risk for what?”

“Of being missed,” he says with a sigh. “Everyone, with the exception of Moose Espinoza, didn’t have any living immediate family members in their respective world to warrant concern over their involvement in our experiments. Moose did have a father, but he was abusive and an alcoholic. His participation in the study went unnoticed. Well, except for the weekly checks his father received for allowing Moose to participate.”

My estimation of Moose changes upon hearing this. Perhaps I was quick to judge the guy. He didn’t have the best life and I can see why he chooses to maintain that rough exterior. So, okay, this lines up with what Cooper told me about the project. “Aside from that, why else were they selected? How did you know how to find them?”

“Every time we traveled to a different reality, we’d run a search of above-average children to use as test subjects. We figured that if we recruited a child, we could catch them while they were still in the developmental phases of learning. The intent was to have a better sampling, choosing children of different realities,” he explains. “In other words, to see if some test subjects adjusted to the serum better than others as a result of their upbringing in a different reality. Each subject was extraordinary in their own right, however. The Dyson twins had superior intellect, Moose was physically strong… Well, you get the idea. The project lasted several years, which is why each child differs in age. Such as your friend Cooper. He was one of our first case studies.”

I wince as he says ‘case studies’. I was part of those trials too. “What about Taylor. Her parents died after you conducted your experiments. Why were her parents killed?”

“I’m afraid that was Oliver’s handiwork. That was the breaking point between us, as I mentioned before. It was until a few years into the study that I realized what he was doing. By then, it was too late for me to stop him. I feel sorry for that little girl, but if I had known that…” My dad stopped and turned away from us, obviously ashamed. I can tell he’s telling the truth and that he’s truly sorry for what transpired all those years ago. But it doesn’t make it okay.

“So, that’s all,” I say. I guess there’s not a lot more to say on the subject.

“That’s all,” my dad repeats back.

“No, it’s not.” Cooper comes up from behind me and takes a turn grilling my dad. “If you don’t tell her, then I will. She’s going to find out anyway.”

It’s my turn to cut-in. “Tell me what?” I can’t stand this anymore. I
knew
they were keeping something from me. All eyes are on me, each trying to figure out exactly how to say it. “Well, what is it already?”

“The real reason your father doesn’t want you to go to the other reality is because if you do, then you ultimately put yourself at risk.”

“Duh. I go to the other reality and try to destroy Thornberry. That’s a given,” I say. “What does this have to do with the drug trials? What. Are. You. Not. Telling. Me?”

“It’s called a causal loop, Etta. Some people refer to it as the predestination paradox. Your father believes if you don’t go, it can be broken.”

“The what?” OMG! Will the secrets, half-truths, and physics term never cease?

“We never did get back to the discussion about how travelers came about. The whole concept of being able to jump to other realities and for some, like you and me, the ability to travel in time.”

He’s right. With all the running around we were doing, we never did get to our private tutoring session. “No, we didn’t. And April was no help.” After the first two meetings with her, I never heard from her again. I don’t even know if she even missed me at school, even though I skipped three days.

“Yeah, well, let’s just say she still hasn’t gotten over what she claims you did to her in the other reality,” Cooper says. “I was afraid she’d hold it against you and I hoped I was wrong, but…”

“What’d I do?” If I did something bad, why in the world did I ever choose her to come to this reality and guide me as a new traveler?

“We got married,” he says with a shrug. “And before you can start, no, I was never involved with April. She had her own little infatuation with me and when it wasn’t reciprocated, she volunteered for this assignment. I guess it was her way of distancing herself from the two of us being together. You allowed her to come serve as your guide, figuring she couldn’t do much damage here with you.”

“But she wants to sabotage me!” Maybe she doesn’t want me going other reality either. Then she could have Cooper all to herself. Why didn’t he tell me this bit of information before? No wonder she was so vague in her attempt to guide me, not to mention winning first prize for being the best absentee tutor. She doesn’t want me to learn what I have to know in order to go to the other reality, thus not marry Cooper. I knew there was something off about her.

“Maybe so, but that’s another story for another time.”

“Okay, so let’s get back to the whole predestination thing. What exactly does that mean?”

Cooper looks over at my dad, either to get his permission to continue or to give him the opportunity to explain. My dad remains silent, so Cooper goes on. “Everything begins and ends with you Etta. The only thing we aren’t certain of is
how
it all ends. You’ve always had the ability to travel within dimensions and outside of time.

“Wait…what? Are you saying my powers aren’t the result of my dad experimenting on me?”
Whoa.
I just assumed I have these abilities because of the drug trials.

Cooper stares at my father. “Do you want to continue or should I?”

We have my dad in a corner and has no choice but to answer. “You’re right, Etta. The abilities you have was by no means manifested by the experimental program.”

What he just says, puts me in a momentary state of shock. Then how in the world did I get these powers? “So, they’re my own?”

“Isn’t there something else?” Cooper interrupts me to address my dad.

My dad looks like he’s ready to strangle him for pressuring him to continue. “Yes. Etta, your powers are indeed your own, but I’m afraid you were still a participant in the study.”

“But why—”

“How do you think they created the serum, Etta?” Cooper’s implication is hard to miss.

Everything, like a puzzle that’s been on hold for days, struggling to fit those final pieces, finally comes into place. “I wasn’t tested on,” I say slowly, trying to put my thoughts into words. “But you used me anyway.” I turn to Cooper, who’s still at my side. “Did you know all this time and didn’t bother to tell me?”

“No, but I suspected,” he says, shaking his head.

My dad’s head hung in shame in affirmation, pretty much confirming what he’d done to me. “We used samples of your blood to isolate your specific abilities. When we started this project, we had no idea it would actually work. But after carefully extracting the right DNA sequence, we were able to concentrate the serum in order to test it on the others.”

“That’s why Thornberry wants me. To recreate what you did,” I say.

“In essence, yes. He believes he can replicate the formula.” My dad shifts in his seat, clearly uncomfortable talking about the ramifications of his experiments all those years ago.

“And what about my ability to astral project?”

Cooper jumps in, as my dad just sits there, suffering from a momentary loss of words. “You never had that ability before. Perhaps you’ve always had it, but it never manifested until now. Like I said before, the future version of you has that gift now, but when I initially left her to find you at Dominion House, she didn’t possess that ability. Now she does.”

This is a lot to take in—as if I haven’t already been dumped with enough secrets and information. It’s like an avalanche that’s been ignored until it’s too late. The details have created a snowball effect that’s escalated to the point of being buried with the particulars. I can scream, throw things, or lash out, but what’s that going to solve? I’m here and there’s nothing I can do to change the past, so all I can do is look forward to the future. “So what else? You said something about a loop.”