Time's Mirror: A CHRONOS Files Novella (The CHRONOS Files) (15 page)

For the second time in a row, I open my eyes without the slightest idea where I am, when I am, or how I got here. I have a vague memory of being at the Farm after Simon zapped me. He was arguing with an older woman. I didn’t hear the first part, but it had something to do with me, and I think Simon won, because the woman huffed off. A moment later, something pricked my arm and everything went blank.

I sit up and swing my feet over the side of the bed. Then I hold that position for several minutes, waiting for the dizziness to pass. This wasn’t just the masher-basher. The Rat Bastard drugged me. A quick pat of my pockets reveals that he’s also taken both medallions.

My stomach rumbles. I have memories of eating donuts and pancakes in that other timeline, but I haven’t eaten anything in this one. And I have absolutely no idea how long it’s been since I left 2306.

Wherever I am, I seem to be alone. There’s a luggage rack against the wall and a plastic ice bucket on the dresser, so my best guess is a hotel room. It’s dark, with the exception of a thin streak of sunlight that glares in through a gap in the curtains and a very familiar lime-green glow near the dresser. It’s not a CHRONOS key, or I guess I should say it’s not
just
a CHRONOS key. The device looks a bit like a hand mirror, but there’s an additional handle. The key itself sits in the center, pulsing slightly. Four small green dots are also visible around the room, one attached near the center of each wall.

I grab for the key, and that’s when I notice the tattoo on the back of my hand. The color isn’t clear in the green light, so I go over to the window and pull back the curtains a bit. Pink. A pink orchid, I think. Or maybe a lotus. The edges look a little puffy. I lick my finger and rub it over the top, but it doesn’t smudge at all. No scent, either, so I don’t think it’s one of those temporary tattoos.

Even though a pink flower is far from the worst thing you could wake up and find permanently affixed to your body, I feel violated. I didn’t agree to this.

My efforts to yank the medallion out of the weird holder prove spectacularly unsuccessful, partly because I’m trying to be quiet. The damn thing is locked down…both the device, which is bolted to the dresser, and the medallion itself, which appears to be locked into place. When I slide my finger across the surface, the holographic display pops up as usual. It seems like it’s in a different position, slightly off to the side, rather than directly above the key.

Even though I can’t see the display well from this angle, it’s obviously not the original medallion that Campbell gave me. This is Simon’s key, and he’s stripped away all but that one stable point—the location with the dead bodies stacked up like kindling.

I move around so that I can get a better look as I debate my options. I need to find someplace to hide while I figure out how to get back to Tate. The only question is whether I’ll have a better chance of doing that in this hotel room or in that field among the stacks of bodies.

The door opens. I freeze, expecting Simon, but it’s Saul who pokes his head through.

“Um…hi. I’m Saul, but I guess you know that. Apparently we’re related?”

This Saul is younger and his hair is shorter. I’m again reminded of that Rob guy, the actor, and I kind of get why my mother might have been a possessive girlfriend. Which is a truly gross thought to have about someone who is apparently my biological father, but then, in a normal world, he’d be in his forties, like Dad, and way past the hot zone.

“Do you mind if I come in?” He takes my silence for permission and steps inside, closing the door behind him. “I’m very relieved to see you. I thought I was going crazy.”

Saul leans back against the dresser. He’s wearing the white button-up shirt with his jeans, instead of that tunic. It’s the same thing he was wearing underneath the burqa in the double memories I kept having.

“I was halfway down the block from the Edison stable point when I started getting the feeling that everything was…off, you know? Double memories. Were you getting them, too?”

“Yeah.”

He tilts his head to the side and looks at me for a moment. “You don’t look much like Kathy. More like my sister. She had the curls, too.”

I notice the past tense, and the faint note of sadness in his voice, but I don’t ask for more information. Maybe he expects me to ask, maybe he’s even planned some sad story he can tell me about how he lost a sister, too.

I trust him more than Simon, but that’s not saying much.

“Where’s Simon?” I ask.

“Don’t know. He showed up at the door of my hotel room—not this one. A smaller room, downstairs. Told me he had this suite reserved, that he could explain the double memories I was having. So I followed him. Thought he was with CHRONOS, actually, until we got up here and he gave me the diary, with the messages from Tate and Morgen, and also a message from…me. From the future. As for Simon, after he gave me the stuff, he blinked out. Said the less he talked to this version of me, the easier it would be on everyone. Oh, but he said he’d be back later to take you on the…tour?”

His eyebrows go up like he’s waiting for me to explain.

“No clue.” Actually, I’m pretty sure it has something to do with the corpse-filled stable point, but I don’t see any need to give him extra information.

Saul is silent for a moment, just staring at one of the little green dots on the wall. When he finally speaks, he still doesn’t look at me. “I thought I’d be in time to stop her. Stop
them
, I guess, since it’s pretty clear that Richard Viers is the one who talked her into it. He was always putting ideas in her head.  We had a fight just the night before.”

“You and Richard?”

“No! Your mother and I. She was furious at me. And it was my fault…I’ll admit I was never really good at the whole fidelity thing, and she found out I’d been with one of the other historians. Shaila. Kathy sent her a threatening message, and Shaila was terrified. I told Shai to stay put and borrowed her costume—the burqa. I was going to get to the jump room early, to see if I could reason with Kathy. I didn’t want her to get into trouble. I
loved
her. And it was my fault she was angry, so maybe I could fix it, you know? She didn’t even tell me she was pregnant when we were fighting. Maybe she didn’t know. Or maybe that’s
why
she was so angry.”

He sighs, and his voice is shaky when he continues. “But when I checked Kathy’s badge location, I realized she’d stopped by to see Angelo…he was our supervisor. By the time I got there it was too late. He was dead. Kathy killed him, or maybe it was Richard who did it. Left his body in the office, stuffed in the closet. So I ran to the jump room, and…they had Shaila hostage. Some sort of explosive was strapped to her chest. Richard said for everyone to get into position or he’d kill her. There was a blast…but I guess you know that part, from what Tate and Campbell said.”

A couple of sniffs, and then he says, “I’m sorry. It’s just…this is really recent for me. Then I find out I can’t use the key, can’t get back home. I’m stuck here. I still can’t believe Kathy would
do
that. I knew she was a little unstable, but this is just…too much.”

I’m silent, mostly because I don’t really know what to say. He seems sincere, but…

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. “Here I am blathering on and what you’ve been through is so much worse. And that’s kind of my fault, too, because I’m the one who pushed her over the edge. If I’d been faithful, or at least more careful, she’d never have had reason to listen to all of Richard’s nonsense about the evils of time travel. You’d never have suffered the way you did. You’d have been born in my time, with a father.”

Something about what he’s saying doesn’t make sense, but I can’t put my finger on it, partly because the bit about me not having a father makes me angry. “I
had
a father. Jim Pierce. He was a good man, a good dad to me and to Deborah.” I can feel the tears building up behind my eyes. I’m not sure if it’s because Saul’s crying, or just the stress of the past few days, but I bite down on my lip and blink them away. “What my mother did…what you did, too, I guess. That’s why he’s dead now.”

“Yes. I’m sorry, Pru. Campbell told me he died when you used the key.”

Saul’s expression is so sympathetic that I may have imagined it, but I think there’s a slight emphasis on the word
you
.

Your fault too, Prudence.

He didn’t really need to say it. It’s always there at the back of my mind. Judging from the video he showed me last night, it’s in Deb’s mind, as well.

Saul waits a moment and then nods over at the CHRONOS key locked up in the weird mount. “Those medallions have an incredible amount of power. More than I ever realized. Campbell…well, he didn’t want to say anything in front of Tate, since Tate is still working with them, but he believes there were major changes to the timeline as a result of what happened. It’s hard to believe CHRONOS doesn’t
know
…I mean, we’re talking billions of additional deaths. But I can easily see them covering something like that up, since they’re implicated. And then Simon gives me the message I sent myself from the future. Apparently, you…
we
…went about everything all wrong. Not just once, but several times. We both try to contact your mother, your sister…and it only makes matters worse. You’ve just started working with the key, Pru, so I don’t know if you can feel the different realities, but I can. This is far from the first time we’ve had this conversation.”

I shake my head. “I only remember…once. You ordered pancakes.” I nod to the room beyond this one. “We ate them at a table that looked like that one, but I think it was in a different room and I…I
think
it happened yesterday. Or earlier today, maybe. Just before I punched Simon. I can’t remember a lot of what we said, but you were angry that you couldn’t use the key. Either way, it felt very real. Still does. I can even smell the pancakes.”

Saul laughs. “Actually, you smell the pancakes room service delivered about a half-hour ago. I thought you might be hungry when you woke up…and you slept a little longer than Simon thought you would. I’m impressed, by the way. June had to put two stitches in his upper lip. You have a mighty right hook.”

“Let’s just say I was motivated.”

I start toward the door, but Saul grabs my arm. “No. I’ll have to bring your food in here. Simon said the field extender won’t go beyond this room, and…we’re not entirely sure what would happen to you outside of a CHRONOS field. Simon also seems to think you’re something of a flight risk right now.”

My eyes flick automatically to the lime-green glow behind his shirt. He laughs. “Sorry, sweetie. You can’t borrow mine. But we’ll get this figured out.”

“So…I can’t leave this room? I’m a prisoner?”

“No! Not at all. You’ll be going places with Simon, and eventually, I think we’ll be able to trust you on your own. Let’s just say that for now you’ve been…grounded. For your own safety.”

Simon doesn’t knock, just shoves the door open and tosses me a white dress. It looks like a toga.

“Put it on,” he says. He’s holding his mouth a little funny, and I see that Saul was right. There are two small stitches on his upper lip.

“Why?”

“Because that’s what you’ll wear every time you make a jump.”

I toss the dress right back at him. “I don’t think so. You wear it.”

There’s a snort from the doorway, and when I look over, I see a second Simon. “Hi.” He gives me a little finger wave. “I’m his backup.”

The first Simon tosses the dress onto the bed, and pulls a wrench out of the duffel he’s carrying. At first, I think he’s planning to use the wrench on me, but then he turns around and starts unbolting the field extender. “You can either put the damn dress on by yourself or the two of us
will
put it on you. Your choice,
mamacita
. And if you get any rowdy again, I’ll call in more backup. You can never have too many Simons in a room, can you, Simon?”

Simon-in-the-doorway takes a step toward me. “My thoughts exactly.”

I duck into the bathroom and do as the Simons say. The idea of him—them—touching me sends cold shivers down my back.

When I come out, Simon #1 is holding the field extender gadget. “Grab the other handle,” he tells me. “Once the stable point is visible, keep your eyes on it and blink when I say.”

I tell him exactly where he can shove the field extender.

He’s silent for a couple of seconds, focusing on the display he’s pulled up. “Have it your way. But you’re not going to enjoy the ride. Last chance.”

He rolls his eyes when I flip him off. Then he grabs my upper arm.

“Eventually, you’ll learn to take my advice, Pru. This is gonna hurt.”

Oh dear God was that an understatement.

My insides are being pulled out through my pores. Once we land in the middle of a dark, wet field, I proceed to puke those same insides out. Afterward, I collapse onto the mud, inches away from my former breakfast.

“Warned you.” Simon doesn’t sit. He just stands there next to me looking out into the night, with his leg pressed against my back. As soon as the retching stops, I try to move away, but he says, “Nuh-unh-unh. Not unless you like the idea of popping out of existence.”