Tailored Realities, page 43
“… Don’t have any idea where he went, boss,” a masculine voice said. “We got the computer though, and a pile of notebooks. Everything that looked relevant.”
Sweating, Lisa pressed herself against a door, hoping the contour of the doorway might shelter her. Three men crossed the hallway beyond, heading toward the elevator. In the distance, an ice machine buzzed loudly, but blessedly the men didn’t look her direction.
“Yeah,” one of the men said, on the phone. “Adam thought he spotted someone odd. Black woman, long hair. No idea who she could be, but he swears she could see him. Don’t know how he could tell that…”
Two of the men wore security guard uniforms, while the one on the phone was in plain clothing. Maybe one of the scientists? One guard had his gun out, and was looking around suspiciously. The other carried a box of what she assumed were Yung’s notes, with his laptop peeking out over the top.
Lisa leaned forward, itching to arrest them … but that would show her hand. That guard looked ready to shoot. If they had her same affliction, she could imagine they’d be on edge. Dangerous.
Don’t rush into anything, her instincts said.
She could hear the one on the phone keep talking as they waited for the elevator. She inched forward, slipping her gun out and holding it at low ready, waiting by the corner.
“No idea how Yung evaded us,” the scientist said. “Must not have been gone long. Yeah, Hamilton did a good job bugging the laptop; we’ll bring the whole thing to you. You were right to be worried about Yung. He’s involved somehow in why everyone ignores us. Perhaps he created his own teleportation device. Maybe that would explain all of this.”
The elevator dinged, and Lisa peeked around the corner. The man from the lobby, gun out, was waiting there. Adam, they’d called him, a brute of a man with beady eyes and an angry attitude. If she popped around the corner now, there would absolutely be a shootout. And if she’d gone for the arrest earlier, this guy would have surprised her.
Maybe she was too timid these days, as Dane claimed, but she couldn’t afford to get shot. Three against one, even if she had the upper hand, would risk her death—and if that happened, nobody would remain to stop the end of the world. Better to be careful, especially since she knew where those notes were going: straight to the facility. If she could manipulate the other officers into helping her, like she’d done with Rowna earlier, a raid on the place was her best bet. A way to get the notes and access to Nazeem’s scientists.
But where was Yung?
That question helped her make the final decision not to intervene as the three joined Adam in the elevator, which then closed and carried them away. Praying that she hadn’t doomed the city, she hurried back to Yung’s room and let herself in.
They’d ransacked the small chamber, which would make it hard to find clues. If he’d left his things, he had to be nearby, but the bed had been sliced open, the suitcase ripped apart and clothing scattered. The carpet was even cut in places to make sure nothing had somehow been hidden beneath it.
She idly played with her bracelet, thinking about a time she and Dane had investigated a similar apartment. Maybe trying to determine anything from this was backward. The security guards hadn’t found Yung, so searching in here might not be relevant anyway. What had tipped him off, letting him know to escape? She checked the window to see if she could spot any conspicuous car wrecks. If Nazeem’s people had been hit on the street, maybe that had spooked Yung. She saw nothing, and …
No, that wouldn’t explain it. He left his laptop.
He wouldn’t have done that unless … unless he was just stepping out. She glanced toward the room’s small fridge. On top of it were some cups, ignored by the thugs, as what was there to see from a collection of clean cups?
Only the obvious clue: the large spot in the middle where an ice bucket had once been. Yung hadn’t gone running. It was pure happenstance he’d been out when Nazeem’s people arrived. Lisa checked her theory by leaving the room and hunting out the ice machine. There she found the smoking gun … in the form of a spilled bucket of ice, likely dropped as Yung spotted the thugs approaching. She knelt, noting that the ice was largely unmelted. This had been recent. She turned, and saw the emergency stairwell just across the hall.
Lisa slipped down multiple flights, around and around in an unornamented concrete stairwell, until she heard sniffling. She paused, then rounded the last flight to find a door with the words EMERGENCY EXIT: ALARM WILL SOUND emblazoned on it. Yung sat on the ground here, his back against the wall. Eyes closed, tears leaking down his cheeks.
“I didn’t know which was more likely—” he whispered, “that you’d chase me down the stairwell, or that I’d alert you by sounding the alarm. I chose poorly, I suppose.”
“Depends,” Lisa said, “on who you think I am.”
Yung opened his eyes, blinking. He studied her, then shook his head. “Are you from one of the other two facilities?”
“No,” she said, offering a hand. “I’m Detective Lisa Sterling. In about two days’ time, I’ll save you from being tied up in a cellar—and together we’ll fail to stop Nazeem from blowing up the city. I’m hoping to change that second part.”
His eyes went wide. “Two days’ time…”
“You don’t remember?”
He frowned. “Why would I?”
“I thought you might since I remember it, and so does your future self. But I suppose he would, wouldn’t he?”
“My future self…” Past Yung seized her hand and let her pull him to his feet. “Nazeem activated the device? It warped reality. That’s why no one seems to be able to see me! It’s not because of something that has happened, but because of something that will happen!”
“Might happen,” she corrected. “My partner and I are doing everything we can to stop it.” She pushed open the door with the alarm sign on it—and no sound went off. At Yung’s confusion, she shrugged. “These things never actually have an alarm on them, at least not in the city. It’s too easy for people to cause a general panic at the noise, thinking there’s a fire. Code forbids it. Come on. There’s a lot I need to fill you in on.”
Seventeen
71 Hours After Moment Zero
Dane winced as he poured antiseptic on his wound (low on the torso, right side, above the hip, didn’t hit the bone). It had started hurting something awful, but strangely didn’t slow him down. He’d thought that a bullet wound would lay him flat, but he felt he could keep going without much trouble.
Yung handed him a roll of gauze as he walked past. The two of them were back in the smoking room at the country club. A variety of guns lay on the nearby counter; both seemed to find it comforting to have them nearby.
“I believe I warned you,” Yung said as Dane rewrapped the wound, “that we weren’t immortal.”
“I’m doing well, all things considered,” Dane said, though he failed to cover a wince. “It’s barely even bleeding. Odd, for a shot that went straight through me.”
“You need to be careful,” Yung said. “It’s possible that our enhanced sense of strength is merely that—a sense. The damage to your body is extensive. You might be able to ignore it better, but it could very well still be killing you just as an ordinary wound might.”
“I feel like I’m healing faster.”
“We don’t know that for sure. Please be careful.”
“It’s the apocalypse, Doc. There isn’t time for careful.” He checked his phone after that, thinking of Lisa. And then the bracelet—the one from Nova—shook a little on its own, then rotated on his wrist.
Huh. That was odd. It stopped a second later. Lisa had given that to him. It had half a flat metal heart on it, the type that was normally prefabricated—but it looked like Nova had made this one herself and snipped it in half. One half on each bracelet.
Yung stepped up to the map on the wall. “You’re still sure you want to try this tonight? In the dark?”
“I did fine in the SWAT HQ in the dark.”
Yung glanced at the bandage. “Fine, eh?”
“If you’re right,” Dane said, “and this wound is worse than I’m pretending, then we’re in trouble. There are no hospitals, and we have barely any medicine. So we need to try to reach the teleporter while I’m feeling up to it.” He pulled on a shirt.
“A fair enough point, but I’m not going to risk any of my people on a trip through three Dead Zones. I’ll go with you. No one else.”
“Fine,” Dane said. “But in that case, you have to stop complaining about me taking risks.”
Yung smiled. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”
“Being shot?”
“Making a difference. Meaning something.”
Dane crossed to the table, where he began picking through equipment, including a ballistic vest with MOLLE straps for his magazines. He glanced over his shoulder at the professor, then nodded. “It does.” An overqualified scientist relegated to teaching introductory physics classes at a small-time college, and an expert marksman who spent his days at a desk job.
Neither had been something the world needed. Until suddenly it did.
Dane’s phone buzzed.
I have Past Yung, Lisa wrote. Nazeem has his notes. I’m working on a plan to get them back.
He forwarded the text to Future Yung, then flipped off the mute. “Nice work.”
“Eh,” she said. “I let Nazeem’s people slip away from me. You’d probably have gone after them, shooting.”
“Depends on if you were there to talk sense into me or not. Raid on the SWAT headquarters went well, but they were waiting for us, as I worried.”
“That’s troubling,” Lisa said.
He had his theories on what was up with that, but he didn’t want to voice them yet. Yung walked over, eyeing Dane’s torso—although the bandage was hidden—and cocking an eyebrow. Dane shook his head. No, he wasn’t going to tell her. Lisa had enough to worry about already.
“Yung, meet yourself,” Lisa said over the line.
“Hello, Albert,” Dane’s version said.
“Hello … Albert,” the same voice said from Lisa’s end. “I must admit, I find most of Detective Sterling’s story to be … outlandish.”
“You know it’s true anyway, don’t you?” Dane’s Yung said. “It’s the only explanation.”
“Yes,” Lisa’s Yung said. “‘Outlandish’ is apparently not a synonym for ‘impossible.’”
“We need to wait for me to put a squad together,” Lisa said, “and raid Nazeem’s main facility. Then we’ll have the notes.”
“Not sure if we can afford to wait that long,” Dane said.
“Why?”
“Call it my gut,” Dane said softly. “But more than that, the revenants were waiting for us. They knew what we were doing, and they must know we’re try- ing to prevent Lightbreak. I suspect if we wait for you to put together a raid, in my timeline this building will be flooded with enemies. We can’t give them time to plan or respond.”
“But we don’t have the notes.”
“We have two Yungs though,” Dane said. “Maybe that will be enough?”
“I…” Lisa’s Yung said. “I spent all day reviewing my notes before they were taken, looking for an explanation of what happened to me. Now that I know the details of what went wrong … that you were sent through time, not through space…”
“Too much power,” Dane’s Yung said. “Nazeem drew way too much power. I’m convinced the overage is what caused problems in my timeline.”
“Yes…” Lisa’s Yung continued. “The calculations are fresh in my memory. With an hour or two, perhaps I can reconstruct the relevant parts, find a way to activate the device without causing a similar disaster. It would be far better if we had the notes, obviously, but if that’s not possible … I can remember enough, I think.”
“Better than I can, certainly,” Dane’s Yung said, with a grunt. “It’s been a long three days for me.”
“Yes,” Lisa’s Yung said. “But um … I realize I’m not up to speed on all this. I just … There’s a question.”
“What?” Dane asked.
“Does anyone have a theory,” her Yung asked, “on why one of you went forward in time and the other backward?”
“I don’t think that’s what happened,” Dane’s Yung said. “Officer Sterling might have forgotten to mention that there’s a dead version of her in this timeline. So…”
“So you both got sent both directions?” Lisa’s Yung asked.
“Except not,” Dane said, frowning. “Because you found her corpse at the site—it hadn’t traveled in time.”
“You were closest to the wormhole though, right?” Lisa’s Yung said. “That’s likely the explanation. You got completely sucked through. Officer Sterling, standing close to you, ended up in the past—but with memories of the future. Myself, Nazeem, the guards hunting me, we are aware something is wrong, but don’t have the actual memories. Proximity to the wormhole, I think. I need time to work with the numbers…”
“Unfortunately,” Dane said, strapping on the body armor, “I can’t give you that time, Doc. My Yung and I are leaving for one of the facilities now—it will likely take us an hour or so, considering we have to get through several Dead Zones. When we get there, we’re going to need calculations. Can you do it?”
“One hour?” Lisa’s Yung said. “I’ll spend most of that writing out what I remember from my notes. But … um … maybe? If all we’re doing is changing the device settings to not draw so much power … Maybe?”
Dane looked to his Yung, who nodded. They couldn’t wait, not with Dane wounded. Today, “maybe” would have to be enough.
Eighteen
59 Hours Before Moment Zero
Lisa led Past Yung into the subway. He’d apparently walked to the hotel.
“I like walking,” he explained as they used her subway card to pass the turnstile. “It gives me time to think.”
He’d calmed down in the short while they’d been together. It seemed that having answers helped his anxiety—and she could relate. Knowing that she wasn’t crazy, that someone else had been through what she had, meant a great deal.
“Well, whatever you do,” she said as they walked down the steps, “don’t drive until this is all done. In fact, in the subway, watch out for people trying to sit on you.”
He nodded, joining her as they entered a subway car. It wasn’t terribly crowded though, so he did sit—where he began typing on his phone, trying to remember and recalculate the relevant parts of his notes. She left him to it, stepping to the side, and flipped her phone off speaker before raising it to her head.
“Dane, you there?” she said.
“Yeah,” he replied, and she was surprised by how muffled the motorcycle sounded.
“You driving? I can barely hear anything.”
“They found me a helmet with Bluetooth.”
“Well,” she said, “Past Yung and I are on the way to the same facility that you are. He thinks maybe we should sneak into this one, with lesser security, and find the numbers they’ve inputted in their controls. That will help with his calculations.”
“How dangerous will it be?”
“Shouldn’t be too bad,” she said. “None of the guards or scientists at this smaller facility would have been at the explosion—so they shouldn’t be able to notice us.”
“Sounds good.”
Lisa hesitated for a moment, but decided to push forward. “Now that the Yungs aren’t listening, Dane, what happened? There’s something you aren’t telling me. I can hear it in your voice.”
“I got hit,” he admitted. “Bullet wound. Not debilitating, but not pretty either.”
“Aren’t you a superhero or something in that timeline?”
“That’s the strange part. I feel like I can shrug it off, but Yung worries the wound is worse than I’m acting. That it will catch up to me. I don’t know. But Li … I do feel an urgency. I’d much rather have this wound cared for in a timeline with real hospitals.”
“You … going to be able to do the mission?”
“Should be.”
She paced back and forth in the subway car. This line was a straight shot to their goal. No transfers. “You’re worrying me, Dane.”
“Trying not to. I just have to keep moving. Like I said, I feel urgent—and not only because of the wound. I don’t like the enemy having too much time to plan.”
“Yes, but you always feel urgent,” she said, pacing back the other way. “You always have to solve problems right now.”
“Not always. I waited on us. Maybe too long.”
She bit her lip. “That … wasn’t just you, Dane. I kept telling myself I’d fix it. Eventually. Kept believing that it was possible. Still … still believe it, if I’m being honest.”
He laughed. “If we both want to fix it, why can’t we?”
“I worry we have different definitions of what a fix involves.”
“Yeah.” He fell silent. “Do you think … the real problem with us was what happened? Four years ago? With me, during that emergency call?”
She … didn’t know. That had been right when she’d decided to actively pursue a political career. Chief had told her he might retire soon, and the deputy chief had decided not to follow him into the position. Lisa’s record was stellar. She’d met the mayor, and …
And then the emergency call had come in—a woman, frantic, saying that her boyfriend was involved in a drug deal gone wrong. That men were pulling guns, and she was afraid for her life. Technically, all officers in the region—detective or beat cop—were to respond to emergencies of this level. Dane had been closest, so respond he had.
When he’d arrived, he’d gone in without waiting for backup or confirmation from other officers. The situation had escalated as he’d breached, and Dane had been forced to take cover. He’d tried to bring the main shooter down, but hadn’t been able to get him before the dealer had shot three other people. Including the woman who had made the call.
That left the question. Should he have tried to de-escalate? And if afterward he had decided to go in, bringing down the shooter would have been the best result. Dane hadn’t done anything wrong, specifically. He’d used his judgment, tried to help, and hadn’t shot first. The department had backed him up, but it had taken work to make certain he hadn’t become a sacrifice in the heated political climate. Plus … Lisa couldn’t say, 100 percent, that she ever wanted Dane in another situation like that again. When hostages were involved, and innocents might be in the crossfire.
Sweating, Lisa pressed herself against a door, hoping the contour of the doorway might shelter her. Three men crossed the hallway beyond, heading toward the elevator. In the distance, an ice machine buzzed loudly, but blessedly the men didn’t look her direction.
“Yeah,” one of the men said, on the phone. “Adam thought he spotted someone odd. Black woman, long hair. No idea who she could be, but he swears she could see him. Don’t know how he could tell that…”
Two of the men wore security guard uniforms, while the one on the phone was in plain clothing. Maybe one of the scientists? One guard had his gun out, and was looking around suspiciously. The other carried a box of what she assumed were Yung’s notes, with his laptop peeking out over the top.
Lisa leaned forward, itching to arrest them … but that would show her hand. That guard looked ready to shoot. If they had her same affliction, she could imagine they’d be on edge. Dangerous.
Don’t rush into anything, her instincts said.
She could hear the one on the phone keep talking as they waited for the elevator. She inched forward, slipping her gun out and holding it at low ready, waiting by the corner.
“No idea how Yung evaded us,” the scientist said. “Must not have been gone long. Yeah, Hamilton did a good job bugging the laptop; we’ll bring the whole thing to you. You were right to be worried about Yung. He’s involved somehow in why everyone ignores us. Perhaps he created his own teleportation device. Maybe that would explain all of this.”
The elevator dinged, and Lisa peeked around the corner. The man from the lobby, gun out, was waiting there. Adam, they’d called him, a brute of a man with beady eyes and an angry attitude. If she popped around the corner now, there would absolutely be a shootout. And if she’d gone for the arrest earlier, this guy would have surprised her.
Maybe she was too timid these days, as Dane claimed, but she couldn’t afford to get shot. Three against one, even if she had the upper hand, would risk her death—and if that happened, nobody would remain to stop the end of the world. Better to be careful, especially since she knew where those notes were going: straight to the facility. If she could manipulate the other officers into helping her, like she’d done with Rowna earlier, a raid on the place was her best bet. A way to get the notes and access to Nazeem’s scientists.
But where was Yung?
That question helped her make the final decision not to intervene as the three joined Adam in the elevator, which then closed and carried them away. Praying that she hadn’t doomed the city, she hurried back to Yung’s room and let herself in.
They’d ransacked the small chamber, which would make it hard to find clues. If he’d left his things, he had to be nearby, but the bed had been sliced open, the suitcase ripped apart and clothing scattered. The carpet was even cut in places to make sure nothing had somehow been hidden beneath it.
She idly played with her bracelet, thinking about a time she and Dane had investigated a similar apartment. Maybe trying to determine anything from this was backward. The security guards hadn’t found Yung, so searching in here might not be relevant anyway. What had tipped him off, letting him know to escape? She checked the window to see if she could spot any conspicuous car wrecks. If Nazeem’s people had been hit on the street, maybe that had spooked Yung. She saw nothing, and …
No, that wouldn’t explain it. He left his laptop.
He wouldn’t have done that unless … unless he was just stepping out. She glanced toward the room’s small fridge. On top of it were some cups, ignored by the thugs, as what was there to see from a collection of clean cups?
Only the obvious clue: the large spot in the middle where an ice bucket had once been. Yung hadn’t gone running. It was pure happenstance he’d been out when Nazeem’s people arrived. Lisa checked her theory by leaving the room and hunting out the ice machine. There she found the smoking gun … in the form of a spilled bucket of ice, likely dropped as Yung spotted the thugs approaching. She knelt, noting that the ice was largely unmelted. This had been recent. She turned, and saw the emergency stairwell just across the hall.
Lisa slipped down multiple flights, around and around in an unornamented concrete stairwell, until she heard sniffling. She paused, then rounded the last flight to find a door with the words EMERGENCY EXIT: ALARM WILL SOUND emblazoned on it. Yung sat on the ground here, his back against the wall. Eyes closed, tears leaking down his cheeks.
“I didn’t know which was more likely—” he whispered, “that you’d chase me down the stairwell, or that I’d alert you by sounding the alarm. I chose poorly, I suppose.”
“Depends,” Lisa said, “on who you think I am.”
Yung opened his eyes, blinking. He studied her, then shook his head. “Are you from one of the other two facilities?”
“No,” she said, offering a hand. “I’m Detective Lisa Sterling. In about two days’ time, I’ll save you from being tied up in a cellar—and together we’ll fail to stop Nazeem from blowing up the city. I’m hoping to change that second part.”
His eyes went wide. “Two days’ time…”
“You don’t remember?”
He frowned. “Why would I?”
“I thought you might since I remember it, and so does your future self. But I suppose he would, wouldn’t he?”
“My future self…” Past Yung seized her hand and let her pull him to his feet. “Nazeem activated the device? It warped reality. That’s why no one seems to be able to see me! It’s not because of something that has happened, but because of something that will happen!”
“Might happen,” she corrected. “My partner and I are doing everything we can to stop it.” She pushed open the door with the alarm sign on it—and no sound went off. At Yung’s confusion, she shrugged. “These things never actually have an alarm on them, at least not in the city. It’s too easy for people to cause a general panic at the noise, thinking there’s a fire. Code forbids it. Come on. There’s a lot I need to fill you in on.”
Seventeen
71 Hours After Moment Zero
Dane winced as he poured antiseptic on his wound (low on the torso, right side, above the hip, didn’t hit the bone). It had started hurting something awful, but strangely didn’t slow him down. He’d thought that a bullet wound would lay him flat, but he felt he could keep going without much trouble.
Yung handed him a roll of gauze as he walked past. The two of them were back in the smoking room at the country club. A variety of guns lay on the nearby counter; both seemed to find it comforting to have them nearby.
“I believe I warned you,” Yung said as Dane rewrapped the wound, “that we weren’t immortal.”
“I’m doing well, all things considered,” Dane said, though he failed to cover a wince. “It’s barely even bleeding. Odd, for a shot that went straight through me.”
“You need to be careful,” Yung said. “It’s possible that our enhanced sense of strength is merely that—a sense. The damage to your body is extensive. You might be able to ignore it better, but it could very well still be killing you just as an ordinary wound might.”
“I feel like I’m healing faster.”
“We don’t know that for sure. Please be careful.”
“It’s the apocalypse, Doc. There isn’t time for careful.” He checked his phone after that, thinking of Lisa. And then the bracelet—the one from Nova—shook a little on its own, then rotated on his wrist.
Huh. That was odd. It stopped a second later. Lisa had given that to him. It had half a flat metal heart on it, the type that was normally prefabricated—but it looked like Nova had made this one herself and snipped it in half. One half on each bracelet.
Yung stepped up to the map on the wall. “You’re still sure you want to try this tonight? In the dark?”
“I did fine in the SWAT HQ in the dark.”
Yung glanced at the bandage. “Fine, eh?”
“If you’re right,” Dane said, “and this wound is worse than I’m pretending, then we’re in trouble. There are no hospitals, and we have barely any medicine. So we need to try to reach the teleporter while I’m feeling up to it.” He pulled on a shirt.
“A fair enough point, but I’m not going to risk any of my people on a trip through three Dead Zones. I’ll go with you. No one else.”
“Fine,” Dane said. “But in that case, you have to stop complaining about me taking risks.”
Yung smiled. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”
“Being shot?”
“Making a difference. Meaning something.”
Dane crossed to the table, where he began picking through equipment, including a ballistic vest with MOLLE straps for his magazines. He glanced over his shoulder at the professor, then nodded. “It does.” An overqualified scientist relegated to teaching introductory physics classes at a small-time college, and an expert marksman who spent his days at a desk job.
Neither had been something the world needed. Until suddenly it did.
Dane’s phone buzzed.
I have Past Yung, Lisa wrote. Nazeem has his notes. I’m working on a plan to get them back.
He forwarded the text to Future Yung, then flipped off the mute. “Nice work.”
“Eh,” she said. “I let Nazeem’s people slip away from me. You’d probably have gone after them, shooting.”
“Depends on if you were there to talk sense into me or not. Raid on the SWAT headquarters went well, but they were waiting for us, as I worried.”
“That’s troubling,” Lisa said.
He had his theories on what was up with that, but he didn’t want to voice them yet. Yung walked over, eyeing Dane’s torso—although the bandage was hidden—and cocking an eyebrow. Dane shook his head. No, he wasn’t going to tell her. Lisa had enough to worry about already.
“Yung, meet yourself,” Lisa said over the line.
“Hello, Albert,” Dane’s version said.
“Hello … Albert,” the same voice said from Lisa’s end. “I must admit, I find most of Detective Sterling’s story to be … outlandish.”
“You know it’s true anyway, don’t you?” Dane’s Yung said. “It’s the only explanation.”
“Yes,” Lisa’s Yung said. “‘Outlandish’ is apparently not a synonym for ‘impossible.’”
“We need to wait for me to put a squad together,” Lisa said, “and raid Nazeem’s main facility. Then we’ll have the notes.”
“Not sure if we can afford to wait that long,” Dane said.
“Why?”
“Call it my gut,” Dane said softly. “But more than that, the revenants were waiting for us. They knew what we were doing, and they must know we’re try- ing to prevent Lightbreak. I suspect if we wait for you to put together a raid, in my timeline this building will be flooded with enemies. We can’t give them time to plan or respond.”
“But we don’t have the notes.”
“We have two Yungs though,” Dane said. “Maybe that will be enough?”
“I…” Lisa’s Yung said. “I spent all day reviewing my notes before they were taken, looking for an explanation of what happened to me. Now that I know the details of what went wrong … that you were sent through time, not through space…”
“Too much power,” Dane’s Yung said. “Nazeem drew way too much power. I’m convinced the overage is what caused problems in my timeline.”
“Yes…” Lisa’s Yung continued. “The calculations are fresh in my memory. With an hour or two, perhaps I can reconstruct the relevant parts, find a way to activate the device without causing a similar disaster. It would be far better if we had the notes, obviously, but if that’s not possible … I can remember enough, I think.”
“Better than I can, certainly,” Dane’s Yung said, with a grunt. “It’s been a long three days for me.”
“Yes,” Lisa’s Yung said. “But um … I realize I’m not up to speed on all this. I just … There’s a question.”
“What?” Dane asked.
“Does anyone have a theory,” her Yung asked, “on why one of you went forward in time and the other backward?”
“I don’t think that’s what happened,” Dane’s Yung said. “Officer Sterling might have forgotten to mention that there’s a dead version of her in this timeline. So…”
“So you both got sent both directions?” Lisa’s Yung asked.
“Except not,” Dane said, frowning. “Because you found her corpse at the site—it hadn’t traveled in time.”
“You were closest to the wormhole though, right?” Lisa’s Yung said. “That’s likely the explanation. You got completely sucked through. Officer Sterling, standing close to you, ended up in the past—but with memories of the future. Myself, Nazeem, the guards hunting me, we are aware something is wrong, but don’t have the actual memories. Proximity to the wormhole, I think. I need time to work with the numbers…”
“Unfortunately,” Dane said, strapping on the body armor, “I can’t give you that time, Doc. My Yung and I are leaving for one of the facilities now—it will likely take us an hour or so, considering we have to get through several Dead Zones. When we get there, we’re going to need calculations. Can you do it?”
“One hour?” Lisa’s Yung said. “I’ll spend most of that writing out what I remember from my notes. But … um … maybe? If all we’re doing is changing the device settings to not draw so much power … Maybe?”
Dane looked to his Yung, who nodded. They couldn’t wait, not with Dane wounded. Today, “maybe” would have to be enough.
Eighteen
59 Hours Before Moment Zero
Lisa led Past Yung into the subway. He’d apparently walked to the hotel.
“I like walking,” he explained as they used her subway card to pass the turnstile. “It gives me time to think.”
He’d calmed down in the short while they’d been together. It seemed that having answers helped his anxiety—and she could relate. Knowing that she wasn’t crazy, that someone else had been through what she had, meant a great deal.
“Well, whatever you do,” she said as they walked down the steps, “don’t drive until this is all done. In fact, in the subway, watch out for people trying to sit on you.”
He nodded, joining her as they entered a subway car. It wasn’t terribly crowded though, so he did sit—where he began typing on his phone, trying to remember and recalculate the relevant parts of his notes. She left him to it, stepping to the side, and flipped her phone off speaker before raising it to her head.
“Dane, you there?” she said.
“Yeah,” he replied, and she was surprised by how muffled the motorcycle sounded.
“You driving? I can barely hear anything.”
“They found me a helmet with Bluetooth.”
“Well,” she said, “Past Yung and I are on the way to the same facility that you are. He thinks maybe we should sneak into this one, with lesser security, and find the numbers they’ve inputted in their controls. That will help with his calculations.”
“How dangerous will it be?”
“Shouldn’t be too bad,” she said. “None of the guards or scientists at this smaller facility would have been at the explosion—so they shouldn’t be able to notice us.”
“Sounds good.”
Lisa hesitated for a moment, but decided to push forward. “Now that the Yungs aren’t listening, Dane, what happened? There’s something you aren’t telling me. I can hear it in your voice.”
“I got hit,” he admitted. “Bullet wound. Not debilitating, but not pretty either.”
“Aren’t you a superhero or something in that timeline?”
“That’s the strange part. I feel like I can shrug it off, but Yung worries the wound is worse than I’m acting. That it will catch up to me. I don’t know. But Li … I do feel an urgency. I’d much rather have this wound cared for in a timeline with real hospitals.”
“You … going to be able to do the mission?”
“Should be.”
She paced back and forth in the subway car. This line was a straight shot to their goal. No transfers. “You’re worrying me, Dane.”
“Trying not to. I just have to keep moving. Like I said, I feel urgent—and not only because of the wound. I don’t like the enemy having too much time to plan.”
“Yes, but you always feel urgent,” she said, pacing back the other way. “You always have to solve problems right now.”
“Not always. I waited on us. Maybe too long.”
She bit her lip. “That … wasn’t just you, Dane. I kept telling myself I’d fix it. Eventually. Kept believing that it was possible. Still … still believe it, if I’m being honest.”
He laughed. “If we both want to fix it, why can’t we?”
“I worry we have different definitions of what a fix involves.”
“Yeah.” He fell silent. “Do you think … the real problem with us was what happened? Four years ago? With me, during that emergency call?”
She … didn’t know. That had been right when she’d decided to actively pursue a political career. Chief had told her he might retire soon, and the deputy chief had decided not to follow him into the position. Lisa’s record was stellar. She’d met the mayor, and …
And then the emergency call had come in—a woman, frantic, saying that her boyfriend was involved in a drug deal gone wrong. That men were pulling guns, and she was afraid for her life. Technically, all officers in the region—detective or beat cop—were to respond to emergencies of this level. Dane had been closest, so respond he had.
When he’d arrived, he’d gone in without waiting for backup or confirmation from other officers. The situation had escalated as he’d breached, and Dane had been forced to take cover. He’d tried to bring the main shooter down, but hadn’t been able to get him before the dealer had shot three other people. Including the woman who had made the call.
That left the question. Should he have tried to de-escalate? And if afterward he had decided to go in, bringing down the shooter would have been the best result. Dane hadn’t done anything wrong, specifically. He’d used his judgment, tried to help, and hadn’t shot first. The department had backed him up, but it had taken work to make certain he hadn’t become a sacrifice in the heated political climate. Plus … Lisa couldn’t say, 100 percent, that she ever wanted Dane in another situation like that again. When hostages were involved, and innocents might be in the crossfire.
