Eternity's Wheel (22 page)

“I don't know if you should yet, Joe.”

“Your father said I'm free to move around,” I said.

“With an escort,” she reminded me, giving another smile. “I guess it's my turn to play tour guide, huh?”

“Sure is,” I said. “Just warn me in advance if you're going to do any abrupt time-warping, okay?”

“I'll do my best,” she said, helping me stand. “Where to?” she asked, once I'd found my balance.

“The docks,” I said. “I want to see my ship.”

The docks of TimeWatch were a lot like I'd have expected; half a dozen long wooden walkways extending off into the distance, with various types of ships from all different cultures and time periods docked at them. It was odd to see InterWorld (which was big enough to house more than five hundred people) tied to someone else's dock like some little dinghy. It was huge, easily one of the largest ships there, and it was still dwarfed by the sheer scale of TimeWatch.

Acacia and I stood on a platform overlooking everything. Beneath the docks was an ocean of something other than water; it looked more like a nebula, with swirls of deep blue and green and white, and sparkles of little stars like sea foam. The sky was that beautiful amalgamation of colors and galaxies I'd seen when I'd first been to TimeWatch.

It was like there were a million skies all mashed up into one, the sun rising and setting multiple times in minutes, in a hundred different places. There were moons and stars and
clouds and fog, all sharing the same sky. It had been beautiful before, when I'd been a prisoner uncertain of my fate. Now, standing here overlooking it as a guest assured of his safety, it was breathtaking.

My ship was all lit up, warm and inviting like lights seen through the windows of a familiar house. She sat amid the waves of stars, making little ripples as people moved off and on, carrying supplies and machinery. Some of those people were obviously my friends, the Walkers who'd made it out of the fight unscathed, and others must have been the other TimeWatch families Acacia had mentioned. It was refreshing to see so many people who weren't me.

Acacia and I stood there for a while, watching everyone move about below us. I still felt incomplete, somehow, like things hadn't been entirely resolved. Like it was all so unfinished. I didn't feel accomplished, like I had actually saved anyone. In the end, Joaquim had been the one to make the sacrifice that saved us, and I couldn't give him the recognition he deserved for it.

“There's Mom,” Acacia said finally, pointing. “And that's my little sister with her.”

I looked where she indicated, picking out a dark-haired woman in a long coat standing with a clipboard in her hand. A younger girl stood next to her, something in her hands occasionally flashing white and lighting up her surroundings.

“Lead the way,” I said, though she wound up having to physically lead me, as trying to navigate the long stairway with only one working eye proved a lot more difficult than I'd thought. My depth perception was way off, and I took a few of the steps harder than I meant to by misjudging the distance. By the time we got to the bottom, my ribs were aching again from the jarring missteps.

“Mom,” Acacia called, and the woman turned. As expected, she looked a lot like an older Acacia; they had the same jaw, same nose, same violet eyes. Her hair was lighter, though, and her face was subtly different. Not her smile, though. Her smile was the same.

“Joseph Harker,” she said, tucking her clipboard under one arm and offering me her hand. I took it. Instead of shaking, she covered it with her other hand, the gesture surprisingly warm. I thought of my own mother, and swallowed.

“Hi,” I said, glancing down at the little girl peering around from behind her mother. She, also, bore a slight resemblance to Acacia.

“I'm Deana,” Acacia's mother said, releasing my hand. “It's a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“You, too,” I said awkwardly, stumbling over the niceties, but she didn't seem to notice. She was already turning toward InterWorld and looking down at her clipboard again. I caught a glimpse of what looked like blueprints and a lot of
technical words even I didn't recognize.

“She's almost ready for you, Captain Harker,” Deana said, and I tried not to cringe.

“I—I'm not—”

“Don't even try,” she interrupted. “With the death of Captain Joseph Harker Omega, you most certainly are the new captain of InterWorld.”

“Joseph . . . Omega?” I asked. She shrugged.

“We have our own classifications to keep everything straight.” Before I could respond to that, she started walking. She kept talking, too, obviously expecting me to follow. I did.

“We're making some upgrades,” she continued, pointing a long silver pen toward InterWorld. “Mainly in your security system, since there was obviously a breach. Two, at least, which is why—”

“Mrs. Jones,” I interrupted. “Can you tell me—”

“Call me Deana.”

“What happened to this InterWorld? Why it was abandoned?”

She stopped walking again, regarding me with kind amusement. Then she glanced past me, at Acacia. “All the questions he could ask, and he asks about something that doesn't concern him.”

Acacia smiled and shrugged. “It concerns InterWorld, which means it concerns him.”

“That event occurs tens of thousands of years in the
future, Joseph,” Deana said.

“Time isn't static,” I said, repeating something I remembered Acacia saying. “That event may have already occurred in the future, but that doesn't mean it won't affect me.”

Her expression changed. She looked at me for a long, uncomfortable moment, and I recalled something Jay had said a long time ago about how it was TimeWatch's job to make sure the future happens as it's supposed to, and how they could erase me if it became necessary. . . .

Then she looked at Acacia again, who cleared her throat uncomfortably. “Mom, uh . . .”

“You're grounded,” her mother said, and the girl behind her giggled. Acacia's eyes widened, mouth dropping open in faint outrage.

“You're kidding me,” Acacia said, and Deana laughed.

“Yes, I am kidding. Your brother already told me how much Joseph knows about time, in part due to the MDLF,” Deana explained, looking down at her clipboard again. “To that end, the council has decided to appoint an official liaison on his missions.” She glanced at me. “No offense, but someone has to make sure he doesn't inadvertently mess up the timestreams.”

I shrugged. Acacia blinked.

“A liaison?”

“Yes,” her mother said. “Go pack.”

I looked at Acacia. She looked at me and abruptly broke
into a wide grin. “That means I get to tell you what to do,” she said.

“No, it means you get to tell me what
not
to do, and it doesn't mean I'll listen,” I said. I was mostly teasing her back, but something about this arrangement still rubbed me the wrong way. “Assuming I even accept this deal.”

Deana gave me an amused look. “Assuming you accept?”

“You just said this is my ship. Like it or not, that means I'm in charge of InterWorld and everyone in it,
and
continuing the fight against Binary and HEX. I have enough on my plate without having to worry about TimeWatch telling me what I can or can't do. If you're so bent on controlling us, why don't you take over the fight?”

“We have our own problems,” Acacia began heatedly, but Deana put a hand on her shoulder.

“I understand how you feel, Joseph. And Acacia is right. The fact is, our problems just became your problems.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. Acacia was also looking at her mother curiously.

“I assume my husband told you of the anomaly that bound you to the MDLF?” she asked. I hesitated, but nodded. I still wasn't entirely clear on
how
it happened, but at least I knew what she was talking about. “This same anomaly occurred with the Techs and the Mages, what you know as Binary and HEX. Not with all of them, but with enough. There are a few now who share the characteristics of both,
and these are more dangerous than anything you have ever faced—with the exception, I suppose, of FrostNight itself.”

Acacia's eyes widened again. “You mean the . . . ?”

“Techmaturges,” I said, feeling my stomach descend about to my knees.

“Or something like them,” Deana corrected. “They are not exactly the creatures we have faced, but they share some similar abilities. Acacia will be able to help you against them.”

I looked at Acacia. She looked slightly less sure about this whole idea now. Her mother reached out to tuck some of her hair back, where it had come loose from her ponytail. “You've studied the most about this timestream, sweetie,” she said. “And your brother will take a while to recover. You're the best choice for this mission—everyone thinks so. And you're a Time Agent, Casey. You can come see us whenever you want to.”

Acacia visibly cringed at the use of the nickname, scrunching up her face. I couldn't help it; I laughed at her, and she turned a furious glare on me. “I'll slap you again,” she warned, and I smiled, remembering how she'd hugged me after.

“Would I get a hug again, if I let you?”

“No.” She glared, but then she stepped forward and hugged me anyway. I wasn't entirely sure why, but I knew I was glad to have her in my arms—I was honestly afraid her coming on this mission with me would ruin any chance we
had of an actual friendship. Frankly, I hoped hugging her now would help calm me in the future, when I'd inevitably have moments of wanting to strangle her. By the way she sighed, she was likely thinking the same thing.

There was a sudden flash of bright light, and Acacia pulled abruptly back. “Paisley!” she exclaimed, and her sister giggled again. I glanced down at the girl; she was holding what seemed to be an old-fashioned Polaroid camera, which explained the bright lights I'd seen before. She'd been taking pictures of everyone fixing up InterWorld.

Paisley stepped shyly up to me, offering the developing picture. It was white, the chemicals still oxidizing on the film. “Casey hates pictures,” she said as I took it from her.

“I also hate that nickname!” Acacia said, reaching for her sister. Paisley ducked and ran off, Acacia not far behind. Deana turned to watch them go, smiling, and then gestured to the photograph.

“You should keep that,” she said. I tucked it carefully into my pocket, still looking at her.

“Did you know the Old Man?” I asked. I had a feeling I knew what the answer would be.

“Yes,” she said. “We all did, but my sister knew him best.”

“Acacia said her aunt died on my world,” I said. Deana nodded. “I'm sorry.”

“Don't be,” she said. “Acacia—my sister, my daughter's
namesake—wasn't sorry. She waited all that time to be able to see him again.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. “Why couldn't they see each other?”

“I hope you never find out,” she said, handing me the clipboard. “Go on inside,” she said, before I could ask again. “I have a few other things to look into, and you have to start restructuring your teams. InterWorld will be ready to go by the end of the day.”

She turned and walked away, leaving me with a clipboard I didn't understand and a head full of questions and worries. TimeWatch was like that. I remembered the last part of the Old Man's message, the one he'd had Jaroux record for me.
It's worth it,
he'd said. I wondered if he'd still say so, now.

I moved hesitantly toward InterWorld, unsure of what else to do. My feet did most of the work for me, taking me up the ramp and through the halls without the conscious direction of my mind. I still felt incomplete, like something was missing. I supposed I'd always feel that way. No one had ever said this job was going to be easy.

I walked through the halls, returning the nods and greetings from my fellow Walkers, the infrequent handshakes and even less frequent hugs. No one questioned where I was going; the Old Man's office was mine now, like it or not, and I had work to do. The former members of my team would
be officers; they could each take command of their own teams, although I might want to keep Jai as a senior field officer rather than a team leader. Either that, or only assign him Walkers like J/O (and the thought of him immediately brought on another pang of sadness), who had dictionary chips installed in their brains. There had to be others like him out there.

The Old Man's office was just as I'd set it up before leaving to deal with FrostNight, though cleaner. Two of the long silver boxes that now contained all the memories from the Wall were used to hold up the massive slab of marble that served as a desk. The others lined the walls, some with padding and cushions to be used as a couch, others used as the base for bookshelves. Morbid as it was, it suited. These memories and the responsibilities that came with them would be mine alone.

I stared at the chair sitting behind the massive desk. I crossed around to stand near it, facing the door. I imagined how this must have looked from the Old Man's point of view, when Walkers came in to debrief after a mission. I wondered if I would ever live that long and get that old. I wondered if young Walkers would fear and respect me the way we had him.

I touched a finger to the surface, watching Josetta's message appear. It was dimmer than it had been; I probably had about a week before it would vanish entirely. I supposed that
was for the best, really. It would be a little distracting if it appeared every time I touched my desk.

I slid open a drawer from the standing file cabinet, staring at the stacks of neat office supplies. The contents of the drawer were different from the last time I'd stood here and looked into it, but of course they were; this desk had belonged to someone else. Just like it now belonged to me.

I reached into my pocket, pulling out the picture Acacia's sister had taken of us. It was an actual image now, clear and sharp, Acacia standing with her arms around me and her head resting on my shoulder. She looked sad and hopeful.