Time's Echo: A CHRONOS Files Novella (5 page)

"Listen, Pru, my head's killing me. I think I have a
concussion or something. It's like my memory…parts of it are there. I mean, I
remember you. I remember us, but…"

While I hope she'll think this is from my not being under a
CHRONOS field when the shift happened, much of it's the honest truth. My head
throbs every time I move it and even harder when I try to concentrate. And I do
remember more than I'd like—definitely more than Kate would like—about
Prudence. Although that relationship was at least a dozen years ago for this
version of Pru, it was only two years ago for me. Back then, she was just a
confused kid who felt betrayed by her family, and unsure of the role she was
expected to play in building this grand new Cyrist future her father was
planning. She was frequently angry in those days—that seems to be a fairly
persistent personality trait for Pru—but there was also
a
certain
vulnerability. Crazy wasn't added to the mix until later. Still,
I'm amazed her mind is functional at all. Who knows how many different sets of
memories she's juggling in her head at this age?

Pru slides closer to me, holding her medallion up to my head
like a flashlight and pushing my hair out of way so that she can pull up the
corner of the bandage. "God, Kiernan. That needs stitches or it's going to
scar. There was no cause for him—for whoever did this—to hit you that
hard."

"It'd be difficult to knock me unconscious with gentle
tap on the head, Pru. And I wouldn't have let them take my stuff without a
fight."

"Have you seen a doctor? Who patched you up?"

"I don't know." There's no way I'm mentioning
Jess. I'm not sure whether Prudence knows I'm still in contact with him, and
the last thing I need is her snooping around right now, when he has memories of
a timeline that he shouldn't even know exists.

"I can't remember much of anything," I repeat.
"I remember getting hit in an alley. I don't know how I got there. And
everything about the past year or so is bits and pieces. I remember you. Nuevo
Reino
. Simon. My mom…she died." I'm sure of it in the
other timeline, but as I speak, I feel a tiny spark of hope as I realize that
may have changed.
"Right?"

Prudence nods.
"About a year
ago."
Her eyes narrow a bit as she speaks, deepening the creases at
the edges. I suspect she's thinking about our last, very unpleasant, conversation
on the issue of my mother's death and trying to gauge how much of that I
remember, so I keep my face as neutral as I can.

"And today is…?"

"July…" She runs her hand over the top of her key
to check the date. "It's July 14
^th
. You're saying the last year
is a blank?"

I shake my head, wincing when the throbbing increases.
"No. Like I said, I remember some things. It's like a jigsaw with a bunch
of pieces missing. We had a fight. I don't know why, though."

There's a long pause, and then she moves closer.

"Just a silly lover's quarrel.
You don't remember any of it?"

"No," I say, even though I remember every detail
of that conversation.

She smiles slightly,
then
runs her
hand along the side of my face. Her eyes are too wide, too bright, her
expressions exaggerated like she's performing on stage. I flinch at her touch,
then
remind myself I need to put up with it. If Kate's
somewhere out there, and I have to believe that she is
,
Prudence probably knows where. Sticking close to Pru is the best chance I've got
of finding Kate.

Pru moves even closer, sliding her hand down to my chest.
"We cleared that up months ago, babe. It was
all my
fault. I told you I wanted to see other people—that we should take a break. I
was wrong. I figured that out pretty quick. You were right when you said we
belong together."

The words are correct, but she's managed to flip the
conversation entirely on its head. I can still see her standing in the corner—a
much younger Pru, barely twenty years old—screaming
You're
mine, damn you. You can't leave me. We belong together,
before
her
pride finally kicked in and she told me to go to hell.

"We do belong together, Kiernan," she continues
when I don't respond, turning in toward me and pulling her leg up over mine.
"It's always been you."

I've seen that look in her eyes many times before. While
it's tinged with more than a bit of madness now, I'm sure that if I give her
even the slightest encouragement, she'll be out of that black dress, determined
to kiss and make up.
Among other things.
That's
definitely not going to happen, but I need to stall as long as possible before
I let her in on that bit of information.

I place my hands on her shoulders and push back, just the
tiniest bit.
"Pru—no."

Her eyes narrow and then she shoves me, hard. The back of my
head whacks against the wall behind the bed. Even though it's not the spot that
was injured, the impact still has me reeling.

"Damn it, Pru! Why'd you do that?"

She just stares at me, her face morphing from anger to
confusion to remorse in a matter of seconds. And these expressions look
genuine, heartfelt, unlike the clownish ones she's been wearing. It's almost
like watching a small child who hasn't learned how to hide her emotions.

Then she takes a deep breath and her mask is back up.
"I'm sorry. I…you frightened me for a moment."

The hell I did. She was just pissed that I said
no
.

So I rephrase, very carefully. "Please let me finish,
Pru. I want to make this right with you, but I can barely remember the past
year. My head feels like it's been trampled by a herd of elephants. I'm still
covered in blood and mud and god knows what else. I need a shower, sleep, food,
aspirin—or something stronger if I can get it. Maybe then I'll remember more
and we can…talk."

She stares at me for a long time before she speaks.
"You're right. Let's get you to Nuevo
Reino
.
June can check out your head and repair any damage. There's a lot going on
right now and we need you back on your feet."

Nuevo
Reino
—or the Farm, as most
of us call it—has been the main Cyrist compound since the early 1900s. My mum
and I were among the small group of Cyrists who merged with a larger group
called the
Koreshan
Unity, when they relocated to a
remote settlement in Florida in 1895, a few months before I turned ten. A guy by
the name of Cyrus Teed was the leader of the group and he called the place New
Jerusalem. I don't know if Saul chose the name Brother Cyrus with this guy in
mind or if it was just a wild coincidence, but Cyrus Teed was one of the more
convincing self-proclaimed messiahs of the late 1800s. Several hundred people,
mostly women, handed over all their worldly goods and followed him into a
mosquito-ridden swamp. They even gave up sex and family life. In exchange,
Cyrus—or Koresh, as he called himself—promised to take care of their basic
needs and, if they were really, really good they'd become immortal.

Mum was just happy to get away from Chicago after my father
died, and I'm guessing she thought the change would be good for me, too. The
Farm wasn't a bad place to grow up, really. The
Koreshans
were pretty big on education and the arts, and I never minded the outside
chores that some of the other kids grumbled about. Teed had some weird beliefs,
like the earth being hollow with everyone living on the inside, but we rarely
saw him, and most of the people seemed pretty normal.
Nice,
even.

Teed died suddenly when I was twelve, presumably at the
hands of some non-believers from Ft. Myers. There were plenty around who didn't
like the group or Teed, including local law enforcement, and no one was ever
charged. The
Koreshans
put his body in a metal
bathtub and kept watch around the clock, waiting for Teed to rise up from the
dead as he'd promised. Three days later, Prudence used her CHRONOS key to
"magically" appear just behind the tub where Teed was ripening fast.
Claiming to be the new incarnation of Cyrus, Prudence scooped up the land, the
money, and the followers. It was a smooth, painless coup for everyone other
than Koresh and handful of his most devout followers. The others fell into
line, and by the late 1960s, Cyrist International was the largest landowner in
the state of Florida.

Teed once vowed his New Jerusalem would eventually be home
to ten million followers. That was actually an underestimate, but his people
follow a new Cyrus now.

I nod toward the medallion, which hangs from Prudence's neck
by a long gold chain. "Getting to the Farm is going to be a problem.
First, I don't have a key."

She flashes me a triumphant grin, reaching into her pocket
and producing a second medallion attached to a thick silver chain.
"Problem solved."

CHRONOS keys look alike, for the most part. They're round
and flat, sized to fit comfortably in the palm of your hand. If you have the
genetic ability to work the thing, you see a colored light, which is a
different color for everyone. It's blue for Kate, and green for me. There's an
hourglass in the middle, with sand going from one side to the other in a
continuous loop. Someone without the gene sees a plain bronze-colored medallion
with a static hourglass in the middle.

So, to the casual observer, the key Prudence handed me is no
different than the one Kate gave me, currently hidden under a bandage and two
layers of clothing. Still, I'd be able to pick this specific medallion out of
any lineup. The chain is new, but this was my
da's
key. I've worn it every day since his death when I was eight. They didn't even
bother to clean it—there's still a smudge of grease along the edge from the
cuffs I wore in the magic act.

I don’t ask Prudence how she managed to get her hands on my
key, but just go on with what I was saying before she gave it to me.
"Second, there's no way I can make a jump in this condition. I need rest.
It's not happening before tomorrow.
Maybe not even
then."

Even though that's probably an exaggeration, I have some
things I need to take care of here in Boston before I go.

Pru is silent for a moment. Then she stands up and snatches
the medallion out of my hand.

"Shouldn't you leave the key?" I ask.

"Why?
So that you can lose another
one?"

My jaw tightens but I don't respond.

"I'll send June back in the morning. With a key, for
when you're able to travel. Founder's House, nineteen-hundred hours,
five-thirty,
twenty
-thirty. Don't dawdle. We need
everyone on deck."

That's 7:00 p.m. on May 30, 2030 at the main residence.
Which probably means Saul will be there, too. I've only had the pleasure of his
acquaintance on two occasions, neither of them actually pleasant. He humors me
because of Prudence. Otherwise, I'd have been written off long ago as too
genetically flawed to be of interest.

"Something big going on?"
I ask.

"Yes. This should double our numbers and get a few
leaders situated. Patterson's hands are tied where she is now—that guy who said
the vice-presidency isn't worth a pitcher of warm spit was right."

"So, why do you need me? It sounds like your dominos
are all in place."

"Most of them, yes. But we never know exactly where
those dominos will fall, do we? This isn't an exact science. You'll be helping
Simon monitor a few…developments." Prudence picks up her CHRONOS key and
brushes her fingers over the top to activate it. "And try to keep him in
line this time, okay? We don’t need another Cincinnati."

I run a quick mental calculation and decide that I probably
should
remember that disaster, at least as far as Prudence knows. "No, we don't.
But why am I stuck with Simon-sitting?"

Simon and I have barely spoken for well over a year. And
while my relationship with Kate made the situation worse, my tolerance for his
asinine behavior was wearing thin long before she was in the picture.

"You're not still worked up over that silly squabble,
are you? The two of you patched that up, whatever it was, months ago. Simon was
so worried when you didn't show up yesterday."

It's hard not to laugh. Pru used to be a half-decent liar,
but the look she's wearing now wouldn't fool a baby.

"Really?"
I say.
"Maybe Simon's finally growing up, then."

Hopefully my lying-face is better than hers, because I have
very serious doubts on that front. I might be willing to believe that he's
bored without me around, but Simon only worries about Simon. Although he'll
sometimes pretend concern for Prudence's welfare, I doubt it's out of any real
affection for her. More likely, he's just sucking up.

"Simon is what Simon is," Pru says with a shrug.
"I trust you'll keep an eye on him."

I suspect what she really means is that Simon will be
keeping an eye on me. But if I find out he had anything to do with my
misadventure in the alley, I'm going to kick his ass. And if he had anything to
do with Kate disappearing, he'll either help me find her or I'll do far worse
than that.

Prudence pulls up her location and it looks like she's about
to leave when something catches her eye and she
moves
toward me. She stares at my foot, which is resting on the edge of the mattress,
then flicks out her index finger and scrapes something off the bottom of my big
toe with her fingernail.

She looks down at her fingertip for a moment, confused. Her eyes
narrow and she holds up the finger to show me a small, pale green glow-star
stuck to the pad.

I just stare at her, fearing my cover is blown. She was
never here after Kate put the stars up, but they sure as hell don't exist in
1905. The only way something of Kate's would still be here is if it was
protected by a CHRONOS field.
If she puts the pieces
together…