The Children Who Time Lost (12 page)

Porsche moved to the side of the entrance and held her right hand out, and I took one last look at Dylan’s birth parents.

The walk down the corridor didn’t drag like it had before. We reached another solid black wall after a couple of minutes.

“I assume you remember everything you’ve been told?” Porsche said.

“Yes. Don’t talk about anything I’ve seen here.”

“Correct. You must adhere to these rules or you will be in violation of the Worldwide Lotto’s regulations. You may share the joy and ecstasy you are feeling and that you’ve felt throughout your visit to this time, but that is it.”

“I get it,” I said. “I’m not a child. You don’t have to keep repeating everything.”

She scowled at me and walked toward the wall. She placed her palm against it. “After I open this door, the portal shall await you and Dylan. This is the first day of the rest of your lives. Enjoy everything that he is, and always be grateful of the opportunity we’ve given you.”

I nodded but wanted to tell her to just get on with it already. I couldn’t take any more of her voice. She frowned at me before pushing her palms farther.
Oops, she must have heard me again.

The vibrations were much more violent this time. It felt like the entire corridor would crumble, sending Dylan and me into some sort of black hole. It lasted for another minute before the wall rose. I could see the same bright light through the slow-opening gap until it was all I could see. Clear as cellophane, the portal spun viciously, a sphere shape like last time. Then the gale-force winds arrived, almost blowing me from where I stood.

I held on tightly to Dylan. His cheeks started turning red, but I didn’t see tears. I noticed Porsche stepping into the room but didn’t know what she was doing. As she walked back out, the wind subsided and then ceased. I stared at my baby. He looked frightened but still hadn’t cried once, which was a bit odd, but I didn’t dwell on it. I was nitpicking already. And what was wrong with a baby who didn’t cry all the time? I tugged at his silver suitcase as if to ensure it was still in my hand.

Porsche stood beside me and gestured toward the rapidly spinning sphere. “Your transportation to the past is ready.”

I swallowed and took a step forward. I stopped to gaze at Dylan. He flung his arms up and down but seemed fine. I nodded at Porsche and stepped into the room. No one else was there this time. I stopped a few yards from the portal and just stared at it.

“What are you waiting for?” Porsche shouted. “You must go now. The more time you waste—”

I stepped in and everything went dark.

Chapter Ten

I
felt someone tug at my right wrist, softly at first but it soon became painful. Then I heard Dylan crying and panicked. I swung my hands until my right fist hit what must have been someone’s cheek. A woman screamed in pain.

“Calm down, Rachel,” I heard.

I closed my eyes and everything went silent for a moment. I heard Dylan crying once more and forced them open. I saw Angela staring at me. She rubbed a damp cloth over her red right cheek. I sat up and kept blinking. I stopped when I was sure I wasn’t dreaming. “I’m so sorry.”

She laughed and waved the apology away. “It’s no big deal.”

I could still hear Dylan crying but couldn’t see him anywhere. “Where’s Dylan?”

“He’s fine,” Angela said. “He’s just in the standardization chamber. We have to make sure he’s ready to step into our time.”

I studied the room I sat in. It had a low ceiling, and screens were mounted all around it as well as to the walls. The sofa I sat on felt quite hard. There were numerous floating tables around me. Angela sat on a small floating black stool.

“Am I back in—?”

“Yes, you’re home,” Angela said. “2043.”

I sighed—in relief, I think. “Where are we?”

“The Valencia facility.”

My eyes widened. “And the others?”

“Don’t worry about them. Amelia went home a while ago, and Monique’s having her interview right now.” She pushed her right thumb against a glass control panel on one of the floating stools. A TV on the wall directly opposite me turned on. “Wanna see it?”

I half-nodded.

“Channel Six, please,” she shouted.

The TV flipped to a channel depicting a black presenter sitting on a couch talking to another woman I recognized when I heard her speak. Monique looked so beautiful. Her smile was warmer than I’d imagined possible.

“It’s all so amazing,” she blurted. “It’s like my whole life up until today meant nothing.” She glanced down and the camera shifted to the face of a beautiful mixed-race girl, probably three years old.

I almost jumped out of my seat. “She’s so cute. Monique must be so happy.”

“She is,” Angela said. “I can’t imagine how happy you both must feel right now.”

When the credits started rolling, Monique rose to her feet, holding her child. As she waved at the audience, the camera zoomed in on the child, who was also waving. A tear came to my eye and I held my hands together. Then I thought of Amelia and my tears of joy turned to sadness.

“Dylan’s ready,” came a mechanical voice. I glanced toward the entrance to see a bronze Kyso.

“Thank you,” Angela said, and the robot walked out. “Are you ready?”

I stood up but still felt a little drowsy. Angela held on to my shoulders for a few seconds before letting me go. “You’ll be all right.”

She started making her way out, but I called out to her. “So what happens now?”

She turned and put her hands on her hips. “Now you take your child and we take you to Hollywood, where you introduce Dylan to the world.”

I knew that my interview was the next step, but I hoped she’d give me a pass. “Is it a good idea making him go on TV? He’s so young. Can’t I just take him home?”

“You know the rules, Rachel. No exceptions.” She continued toward the exit. “Now come on, the world is waiting to see mother and son.”

I sighed and followed her out.

The flashing cameras made me squint, but I continued walking. Excited men and women extended their hands past the ropes, but the stream of armed fifth-generation Lypsos got in the way any time someone got too close. I stared at the muzzles of the guns attached to their arms and flinched. I switched my attention to Dylan and held on to him for dear life, but he didn’t look the least bit fazed by the crowd around us. He even giggled whenever we shared a look. Angela walked beside me and answered a heap of questions from journalists and other people allowed on the edges of the red carpet. I wished everyone would just disappear, leaving only Dylan and me in the midst of Hollywood Boulevard.

“Rachel. Rachel,” I heard for about the hundredth time, but this time it sounded familiar.

I stopped and turned. A Lypso leaped in front of me. “Please keep moving, Mrs. Harris.”

I shook my head and looked to my left, where a host of photographers were aiming cameras. There were also many civilians standing close by, but I listened for the voice I’d heard.

Angela ran up beside me and held my arm. “What’re you doing? We need to keep moving. The network’s on a tight schedule.”

I looked at the screaming mob for a second, and no one looked familiar.
I must be imagining things.
I smiled at Dylan again and started to turn around when I heard the same voice among all the others shouting my name.

“Rachel. Rachel,” the person repeated. I stepped closer to the crowd. Another Lypso joined the one that had tried to make me turn around earlier, but I continued taking small steps until I saw Kevin’s warm smile, and it lighted up my soul. My chest tightened. The excitement I felt took me over. I took a step toward him, but he held his hand out, gesturing that I shouldn’t take another step. I smiled and turned around. Then I continued following the five Lypsos ahead of me into the sixty-story Lotto Building.

Hair and makeup took forever. I kept asking Sammy, the middle-aged brunette woman applying it, where my son was. She gave me the same response every time.

“He’s right next door. I promise you, he’s in good hands.”

I huffed and relaxed in my chair. She continued applying eye shadow, but I couldn’t keep still. My mind was on my child. I couldn’t wait for him to meet Kevin. I smiled to myself just before catching sight of Angela approaching with a serious expression.

“What’s taking so long?” she asked Sammy. “The interview is supposed to start in one minute.”

Sammy took a step back and exchanged glances with Angela and me, her face a combination of fear and frustration. “She keeps … she …”

“What is it?” Angela growled.

“Don’t take it out on her,” I said. “I’ve just been asking about Dylan, and she’s been stopping to reassure me, which is more than you’ve done. All you seem to care about is this damn interview.”

Angela glared at the woman and knelt in front of me. “This is not all about you. We have a schedule to keep. The world is out there, desperate to hear from you. Whether you want to accept it or not, you’re a celebrity. Do you really want to keep them all waiting?”

My hand shuddered for a second. I needed my medication. But then I remembered Warren’s warning about Jarrod. But I had to have it. I couldn’t start getting the shakes while speaking in front of the world.