Timestorm (13 page)

Another one of us. Except he didn’t have to give up his life like the rest of us. Or maybe he did, but just in a different place, in a different way.

“This time traveler is much older than you. I think your age and your apparent distress in this situation could be enough to convince Andrew Melvin to keep his work a secret and not pursue it any further.”

“I’ll do everything I can,” I promised Frank.

He touched a hand to my shoulder. “I know you will, son. You have always displayed the ability to do what’s right. I respect that more than anything even if no one else does.”

I’m pretty sure that was Frank’s way of telling me that my so-called bad habit of showing nerves, excitement, and apprehension during training sessions and meetings showed that I was human more than anything else.

The jump to 1953 wasn’t as difficult as I thought it would be. Frank had me memorize a map of the city in the 1950s. The access code he gave me to open the CIA-protected door worked perfectly.

What surprised me most about 1953 was Andrew Melvin. I hadn’t expected to have this world-saving conversation with a skinny kid about my age.

“Andrew Melvin?” I asked, wanting to be sure I had the right person.

He pushed his glasses up on his nose and eyed me skeptically from his desk, which sat in a large room full of shelves of books, papers piled in every corner. “Who are you?”

“Blake,” I said. “Listen … this is going to sound crazy, but just give me five minutes to explain.”

I had to give him credit for his patience. He listened to me for ten minutes without asking questions.

“I don’t know what theories you’re talking about,” he said when I had finished explaining my I’m-from-the-future story. “Probably a mix-up. Another Andrew Melvin think tank.”

“It’s not another Andrew Melvin,” I said firmly. “And I’m not asking you to admit to anything. Just don’t write it down. Destroy it if you already have. Don’t let anyone have that information inside your head. It will be the worst thing you’ll ever not get credit for. Trust me.”

I could see the debate in his eyes. The internal conflict as he asked himself, “What if this crazy fool is telling the truth?” Could I do anything more than that? Maybe one thing … “I have a good friend in 1987. I’m going to check up on you and make sure that you did what I asked you to.”

I left him with those final words because I could feel the fatigue and stress dragging me down, lessening my power.

JUNE 11, 2875.
MEMORY EXTRACTED FROM HOST.

I collapsed into my bed the second I returned from 1953 and slept for fourteen hours straight. When I woke, Thomas was in the kitchen putting eggs on a plate. He glanced up at me and set the plate in front of an empty chair. “I made you some breakfast.”

My eyes stayed on the plate of eggs and bacon, the glass of orange juice sitting beside it. “Um … thanks.”

“I had a meeting with the presidential committee this morning,” Thomas said, giving me no indication of his mood based on his tone. “Frank said you went on several missions yesterday for the committee, that they might have worked you too hard.”

I nodded, unable to trust my voice, then I sat in the chair and started eating even though food was the last thing on my mind.

“I know you were trying to help find Nora. I appreciate your effort, Blake. I really do. But I think it’s best if you don’t put stress on your mind looking for her,” he said.

I was literally holding my breath, not even able to swallow.

He sat across from me at the table, hands folded in front of him. “I’ll admit, I had high hopes for this child, but obviously Nora and I didn’t agree on certain aspects of parenthood. I just wish she would have spoken to me first. If she had been honest about her concerns, I would have listened.”

I highly doubted that.

“I’ve told the committee to let it go, that she’ll come back when she’s ready and we should give her some space.” He paused for a second, watching me carefully. “You didn’t tell Frank what I’ve shown you in the future, did you?”

“No,” I answered honestly. We hadn’t actually discussed this in detail.

“Thank you. He’ll find out soon enough,” Thomas said. “That’s what I wanted to tell you. The committee was impressed with the progress of Eyewall, though they were a little disgruntled with Dr. Ludwig’s choice to go against the vote. Either way, they’ve forgiven Dr. Ludwig and given us their full support to continue the project. Frank, however, has chosen to betray the government since being outvoted. We’ve taken him into custody this morning, but we have evidence he’s already formed a new agency specifically designed to act in opposition to Project Eyewall.”

Grief and fear took over. I hadn’t done it. I failed to convince Andrew Melvin that his ideas would eventually destroy the world. And now I’d lost the one person in my present who could help me. But had Frank really done it? Had he organized an opposition knowing they’d take him away soon enough? He seemed prepared, like he’d been planning every last detail yesterday.

All I could do was hope.

“I’m as disappointed as you are,” Thomas said. “Frank has been a crucial member of the government for fourteen years. I trusted him, we all did. And I wouldn’t worry about this opposition. He doesn’t have time travel on his side. Only we do.”

Hope sprang up inside me.
Yes he does. He has a secret time traveler
. Frank was smart. He knew exactly what he was up against. And this time traveler was skilled enough to steal files from Dr. Ludwig. I just had to figure out how to find him.

Deal with Thomas first,
I reminded myself,
he still trusts you.

Jean came through the front door before I had to verbally react to the information Thomas had just given me. “Oh good, he’s awake.”

Thomas looked from Jean to me, and then said, “I have a task for both of you. Something you’ll be working on together.”

I only got a few minutes to finish my breakfast and clean myself up and then Thomas, Jean, and I were in Central Park. In 1992.

The day was warm and people were everywhere. Thomas walked several paces in front of us, and Jean leaned into me and whispered, “What are we doing here?”

Finally, Thomas stopped and sat on a bench, pulling a newspaper from his back pocket, spreading it open to block his view. Jean and I guessed we were also supposed to stop and sit. So we did.

“If you look straight ahead, about two hundred feet away, you’ll notice a young man and woman with two small children running around in the field.”

I squinted in the sun, making out the outlines of two taller people and two little ones. I could see bright orange pigtails sticking straight out of one child’s head.

“Those children are a creation of the Eyewall opposition organization,” Thomas said. “They call themselves Tempest.”

“Tempest,” I said under my breath, memorizing it. Is this what Frank had done?

“Wait, so they’re cloning in 1992?” Jean asked.

My head snapped to look at her, realizing Thomas’s words … the creation of the opposition.

“No,” he said. “The woman with them carried them, a surrogate. But they used the eggs of one of our products, a successful time traveler. They have two brilliant scientists working on their side. And they have a theory. They believe the half-breed method will create abilities stronger than the products of Project Eyewall.”

“And you think they’re wrong,” Jean concluded.

“No,” Thomas said, folding the paper back together. “I think they’re right.”

“So what do we do about it?” Jean asked. The eagerness in her voice scared me. She would follow Thomas anywhere. “We’ve got to destroy them, right? We can’t have time travelers not under our control.”

“Violence is almost never the answer, Jean,” Thomas said. “And who says they aren’t under our control? Or that we can’t bring them to our side eventually? It’s just a matter of showing them what they can be a part of. The importance their lives can hold.” He turned to face me and Jean. “That’s your mission. Keep watching the twins. Tempest calls them experiment Axelle. Product A is female and B is male. When and if their abilities present themselves, we need to be right there, ready to help them make the right choice, understood?”

“And what if they refuse?” Jean asked. “Look at the way they’re being raised, it’s not the methods used for Project Eyewall. What if we can’t convince them to join us?”

Thomas looked out at the field again, watching the two little bodies chase a red ball around as it rolled through the grass. “If, and only
if
Plan A fails completely, we terminate them. We can’t have that kind of power working against us.”

I held in a gasp and glanced at Jean. She nodded solemnly as if she had already accepted this horrific task.

Suddenly the man with the children was walking toward us. He looked Thomas’s age or maybe a couple years younger. He moved past our bench without making eye contact, but as soon as Thomas stood up, I knew this was a planned meeting.

“Follow me,” Thomas said to us.

Minutes later, the four of us were hidden from the public eye by a small forest of trees.

“I thought we agreed, no backup,” the man said, nodding toward me and Jean.

“They aren’t backup, Kevin, just young trainees,” Thomas said casually. “And our definition of trainee is very different from yours. They’ve never picked up a weapon in their lives or learned hand-to-hand combat. They’re time travelers. Two of the originals.”

Originals
 … that’s what we were going to be called now that cloned time travelers were a part of society.

Kevin looked us over carefully, the disgust in his expression shifting to surprise maybe. It was hard to tell. He seemed to have composure as solid as Thomas’s.

“I have a short message to deliver,” Thomas said. “Dr. Ludwig and I are very impressed with your efforts toward scientific advancements. Even with the limited technology this year has to offer. I came to tell you that the experiment products—”

“Jackson and Courtney,” Kevin said, speaking through his teeth.

“Of course,” Thomas corrected. “Jackson and Courtney are in no danger. And we wish you and your team the best regarding the experiment’s outcome. It’s a brilliant concept, it truly is.”

In that moment, I completely lost my head. I could feel something surfacing inside me as Kevin looked at us, grouping me with them. I couldn’t stand it. Not for one more second. “He’s lying!”

Thomas turned to look at me and so did Jean. “Blake, do you have something you’d like to say?”

“They’re not safe!” I said to Kevin. Blood rushed to my face, flooding my judgment and thought process. “The kids, they’ll never be safe.”

Thomas rolled his eyes. “He knows that, Blake. And besides, it’s not completely true. If the children present no special abilities over time, we won’t have any interest in them at all.”

Of course he knows that. I felt like an idiot right then, trying to do something heroic and it wasn’t even close. They’re on opposite sides. Of course Kevin isn’t going to take Thomas’s message seriously. It’s just a formality. Thomas is formal about everything. And he wanted Kevin to see us—me and Jean. To know that we were real and natural and maybe he wasn’t working for the right side.

As Kevin walked away, leaving the three of us alone in the wooded area, I felt the weight of the entire world on my back. I couldn’t fight it. I’d never win.

“Do you really think they’ll be able to do it?” Jean asked. “The Axelle products? Even the Eyewall Project has suffered casualties.”

“Failure is part of every experiment,” Thomas said. “We made the subjects aware of the dangers of time travel and they made the choice to jump.”

“Casualties? Some of the clones died trying to time-travel?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said right away. “The earlier products, though I’m certain it will still happen now and again.”

Oh God … this is worse than I thought.
And what did he mean they made the choice? He told me they follow orders. They were raised to do everything they’re told or basic needs are withheld.

“I want out,” I said to Thomas right away. “I can’t do this … not the mission, not the job. I’ve never been right for this.”

“Blake,” he said. “You’ve been through a lot in the past twenty-four hours. You haven’t even had a chance to grieve the loss of Nora and Grayson. Perhaps we—”

“Grayson!” My stomach flipped upside down as I fought the urge to vomit. “What happened to Grayson?”

Jean chewed on her fingernail, keeping her eyes on the ground. She knew something. And she had kept it from me.

Thomas rested his hands on my shoulders, staring right at me. “Relax. It’s a lot to absorb. Let’s back up and take things one step at a time.”

I could feel my legs trembling beneath me. “Just let me out, please. I’ll never tell anyone about Eyewall or what you’re really doing there. That children are dying…”

Thomas’s eyes turned hard and cold, disappointment filling his expression as his hands dropped from my shoulders. “You’ve lost your head, Blake. You’re not looking at the big picture. Plus, everyone knows you and what you can do. We can’t exactly put you behind a desk without explaining things.”

A small part of me thought maybe Jean would jump in and say she agreed with me and felt the same way, but I knew it wouldn’t happen.

“I’ll hide … let me go to 2002 or 2003 and stay with Lily … I can let you know if anything happens with her and I won’t jump at all,” I pleaded.

Thomas showed a rare sign of distress, rubbing his hands over his face for a few seconds. He glanced at Jean then back at me before taking a deep breath. “I wish this were easier, Blake. I really do.” He pressed something against my neck and the whole world went black.

When I woke up, I was lying on the floor in a living room somewhere. There was a fire in the fireplace beside me. It crackled and popped as the wood shifted. I lifted my head, feeling the grogginess still heavy in my limbs. Jean and Thomas stood in front of a couch, leaning over it slightly. I jumped to my feet when I saw the limp hand hanging over the side.

Jean had latex gloves on and held a huge syringe in one hand. “The boy next?”