Skyline

by Zach Milan

  “That’s enough,” Ana said, her voice barbed. She strode away, toward the sleek black side of the Council’s tower.

  Monroe stowed the astrolabe in the bowling-ball bag and followed. Gone were the ragged streets of New York City. Gone were the teetering buildings and the stranded New Yorkers. By going back just an hour, as Ana suggested, Monroe was able to see the Council’s world before the Cornerstones moved their tower forward, before Ana sent it back. “Do we wait out here? The Council will arrive in an hour, right?”

  Shaking her head, Ana felt the edge of the smooth wall, looking for something that Monroe couldn’t see. “They’ll travel directly inside. Only their orbs have access.” Her fingers paused high above her, and she slipped them into a crack. When she pulled, Monroe saw the outline of a door coming loose, but only an inch at a time. Ana pulled the door open a little more, shifted her fingers in, then pulled it open another inch.

  “Is that gonna work?” Monroe asked. No way the Council would leave a way in that Ana knew about.

  She hissed at him to shut up, pulled the door a little farther, and flicked a catch up. The door released and swung open.

  “Nice trick.”

  Again she shushed him. “Be quiet, okay?”

  He shrugged and followed her into the cool interior. This entrance didn’t lead to the lobby. Instead, Monroe found himself in a tiled hallway, with a window on one side showing the lobby beyond. This wasn’t just a back door, but a way of spying on whoever was inside. Goose bumps ran along Monroe’s arms.

  Without a word, Ana tugged Monroe away from the glass and down the empty hallway. The glass ended at the corner, and Ana led Monroe around it, into a part of the hallway with only a single door facing what looked like an elevator. “Tell me if that lights up.” Ana dipped her head toward the elevator, then stooped to the door and slid off her boot.

  From the inside, she slid out several lock picks, laid them in a line, then got to work. She’d slide two picks in, work a bit, then swap a new one in. Maybe this explained why Charlotte’s astrolabe worked on these streets. Leanor hadn’t known they’d come back, but she’d worried about it. And, like her boot filled with lock picks, it was a way of being prepared. A just in case.

  Ana was so systematic with her tools, like she’d done it a million times. But she’d just escaped, hadn’t she? In the future, Leanor hadn’t said anything about breaking in.

  She’d lied so much, it was impossible for Monroe to keep track of what was true.

  The lock clicked, and Ana swung the door wide. “One step closer to your friends,” she told Monroe as he came in and closed the door. He was sealed in with her now; hopefully this wasn’t the trap.

  “Where are we?” Monroe asked. To his left was a set of lockers, one opened to show a few hanging suits and orbs lying at the bottom. When Ana didn’t race over, Monroe assumed either they were dead, or made prior to time travel—only useful for navigating streets. To his right, set inside a long wall, was a thick piece of double-sided glass beside an open metal door. Behind the door and glass sat a chair and a metal table. Without any cork board, knick knacks, or plants, the room had to be containment for captured criminals.

  Before him, running along the widest wall, were dozens and dozens of monitors, each showing a different vista of the city, sometimes inside decrepit houses. But as it had been when they ran through, the city was empty. Abandoned.

  “Huh,” Monroe said, sliding into a chair opposite the screens. One showed a view into the plant room where Charlotte and Bill would soon appear with the brick. Another monitor showed the bridge. Another showed the exterior of this very building. “They should’ve seen us.”

  “They did,” Ana said. “They will. A guy, a girl running. That’s who they captured, wasn’t it?”

  The Council must’ve been in a hurry, to mistake Charlotte’s bulky figure for Ana’s thin one. To mistake a bald man for Monroe. More than that, it meant they’d be here soon. “So we have to go. We can’t be here. We’ll have to hide somewhere, then get Charlotte and Bill once the Council captures them.”

  “We’ll be fine.” Ana sat beside him. “This is where they’ll bring your loved ones. And before they do, we can hide in there.” She pointed to the darkened containment cell.

  “Okay,” Monroe said. If the Council was rushing that fast, if he and Ana hid against the wall below the glass, no one would spot them. “Sure. And in the meantime, we should get ready.” A clock ticked above, the readout of fifteen numbers similar to those he’d read shining from Ana’s astrolabe. But even without his understanding those numbers, the rest of the room made sense. Not just a security measure, but more than that. A map of the city, cameras throughout. He could guess what this room was used for. “They can redirect movement,” Monroe said. “If someone activates their orb in the city, the Council can track it, right? Change it?”

  “Yes.” She stared at him, but he didn’t explain.

  “Then tell me everything you know. Everything you’ve guessed about how this stuff works.” He straightened his shoulders and put his fingers on the keys, gazing at the monitors. “We have work to do.”

  • • • • • • • • • • • •

  Monroe paid close attention as Ana showed him how the Council’s surveillance system worked. He didn’t interrupt, joke, or say a word. He had to do this for Charlotte and Bill. He couldn’t fuck this up.

  The monitors were easy enough to understand, but the map was stranger. Instead of buildings or topography, the map was solely of this time’s twisted streets. According to Ana, whenever anyone used an orb—which were simply to move through space when the system was created—a red dot would appear on the map. The dot would become a line, charting their planned path. A dial beside the grid could slow their actual movement down. Certain screens would show their details—weight, height, gender. A keypad could redirect them to different coordinates. A red button locked the containment cell nearby. When the Council’s city was a hive of activity, finding and redirecting the right person took time and care. In this empty city the Council’s travel would stand out like a sore thumb.

  Ana gave Monroe every detail he needed, as if she already knew his plan. He had to keep reminding himself that Ana wasn’t Leanor yet. Because she was smart, intuitive in the exact way that Leanor had been. He could see how this woman had invented time travel, had invented the Cornerstones that sent the Council’s spire through time. She wasn’t good at just understanding tech, but at focusing on the small details.

  “You try,” Ana said. “You’ll want to imprison them yourself, I assume.” She chuckled.

  Monroe didn’t respond, but he took over the controls. He zoomed into the grid to target a street. He typed in the coordinates Ana had given him of that smaller mansion. Zoomed to the location in front. The Council would be there soon. Then he spun the knob to slow the target’s movement, tapped the coordinates of the containment cell nearby. Hit the button, and heard the door lock. “Ready or not, here I come,” he murmured.

  “It’s almost time,” Ana said, nodding toward the unreadable clock. “We’re only a few minutes out.”

  “Time to hide, then.” Monroe cleared the coordinates of the grid and reset the cameras. The city was empty, waiting with bated breath.

  Pressing another button, Monroe unlocked the containment cell, and he and Ana entered. Crouching in the darkened room, he could just see through the one-way glass.

  The security room was empty. There was still time before the Cornerstones pulled this building to the future. Time before Ana’s bomb sent it back. A little time to do the work that Charlotte had wanted to do prior to their fight inside Fort Wood.

  “Why did they stop?” Monroe asked. “You said you destroyed your device, but they kept coming? You—your future self—were convinced that destroying your astrolabe would end it.”

  “Because it ended before,” Ana said. “Maybe that was just a coincidence. My theory?” She turned from the window to look Monroe dead in
the eyes. “They found someone to do their dirty work.”

  Monroe gulped. “Us?” He shook that away. “No, you found us. You gave Charlotte the astrolabe. You had us stop you. Don’t you get it? Like it or not, you will regret this. You’ll find us. You’ll stop yourself.”

  “Then maybe that’s why the Council left me alone eventually. Because they found my future, old self. Convinced her to stop herself. Me.”

  Squinting at her, Monroe asked, “Doesn’t that make it better? If they got to you, then it must have been important.”

  Ana’s eyes flicked away. “You think I don’t care. That I don’t hate that I’ve forced New Yorkers to deal with what I’ve fled? I do, but it is necessary. Like it or not. My world was ruined before I invented time travel. No ice, no storms, but billions of people in poverty, with a rare few at the top. A Council with all the power. I thought, with time travel, I could change that. I could give it to everyone, but …”

  A tear fell down Ana’s cheek. “Did I tell you what happened? That they stole my technology somehow? That they stranded everyone, using an EMP to lock up this time. Every time device built in their factory stopped working.”

  “But you got away.”

  “A prototype. My Cornerstones—and presumably whatever device they used to travel through time—were built from materials collected before they’d released time travel. But once this building travels forward, once I send them back, their Cornerstones will be left behind. All they’ll have is a single cobbled-together time device.”

  Through the window, the screens flickered to static, and Monroe felt frozen. Then he could breathe. They’d just leaped through time. “That was the Cornerstones?”

  “Yup. Now you’re out there,” Ana said, “forcing me to come back.” Was that respect he heard in her voice?

  Again, Monroe felt frozen, watching the bank of static screens. Now they were leaping back millions of years. Monroe’s past self was going to have his mind blown. Then the screens flickered to life, seamlessly connected back to the city’s system, showing Ana’s ruined age.

  “And now they’re stuck,” she said.

  They weren’t, and Ana knew it. The Council had chased her down, too. “You mean their empire is stuck.”

  Ana shrugged. “The same thing, really. This building contains every plan for New York. Every piece of their tech. Without it, they’d be three aliens trapped in a time they don’t know. With this building trapped, they’ll be desperate.”

  As they waited, a rumble sounded from outside. One of the cameras flickered to static. A small light nearby glowed red, blinking frantically.

  “That must be your self-destruct,” Monroe said.

  “To keep them from using my bomb’s components. Now shh.” Ana placed a finger on her lips and ducked her head down, barely peeking through the dim window.

  The elevator dinged outside the room, and the Council stormed in, Cora slamming through the door. She spat something at the other two, striding to the middle screen. On one of the distant screens, Monroe saw himself flee the building with Ana. Cora hissed words that Monroe couldn’t understand.

  “What?” Monroe asked, but Ana shushed him again. He frowned, but didn’t turn to her for an explanation. He wanted to see this.

  Alek spoke, perhaps reassuring her—Monroe couldn’t tell—as he ran a hand through his white hair. Cora rolled her eyes, but her jaw dropped as she saw the screen with Monroe and Ana running. The Council’s attention shifted as they ran down the streets, disappearing into the obelisk.

  Paris muttered something, pointing at another screen. On it, Charlotte and Bill were visible in the small mansion, walking toward the exit.

  The white-haired leader asked something, raising an eyebrow. They all pulled black orbs from their side bags, dialed them on, and vanished.

  “Well, okay,” Monroe said, pushing open the door, letting light spill into the cell. “Now it’s our turn to trap them.” He turned back to the room. “Right?”

  But Ana was no longer there. Gone, too, was Charlotte’s astrolabe.

  “You motherfucker,” Monroe said, staring at the spot where she had been. That respect, the tear, all that regret he’d seen had been an act. He slammed a fist on the ground, then the glass, and kept pounding.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  NEGOTIATIONS

  1,803,241 BCE

  His fury settled, turning inward. His lips and side still bled. Ana had stolen an orb before. Yet he didn’t check on her while he stared out the window. Didn’t notice the bag get lighter on his shoulder. “Idiot.” But wallowing would be even more idiotic. “Get it together ’Roe.” His voice sounded eerily like Charlotte’s. “Get it to-fucking-gether.”

  Charlotte needed to get home to Charlie. And Bill … Well, Monroe just wanted a chance to change what he knew he couldn’t. Or, at the very least, one last moment with Bill. It couldn’t end like this. He wouldn’t let Bill go like this.

  With a deep breath, he steadied himself on the glass. The monitors, the dial, the way to save his family were just outside this room. Just beyond the glass. “You can do this.” His focus shifted, and he saw himself, a shadow in the glass. To his own outline—his bloody face, his messed-up hair, his dark eyes—he whispered, “You can do this.”

  With a nod to himself, he pushed out of the containment cell and crossed to the controls. He tapped in the coordinates he’d practiced with Ana, and a view of the small mansion appeared. Charlotte and Bill stepped outside; his heart thumped. There they were. This time he wouldn’t simply watch. On another monitor, he zoomed into the map at the same spot. Three dots blinked in red before fading.

  The Council had arrived.

  Charlotte and Bill talked to the Council. Paris vanished as he realized what Ana had done, and on the map, his dot zipped away to three other points in the city. When he reappeared, Alek’s shoulders sagged for the slightest second. Cora held out her hand. It was almost time.

  Monroe tried not to think about Ana’s lies. Tried to believe that she’d taught him what he needed to know. He’d have to rely on her glee at the idea of the Council trapped in the containment cell.

  Charlotte and Bill took Cora’s hand and, at the same time, the three dots appeared on the screen, two lines connected to one—indicating Charlotte and Bill. Then the dots turned into thick lines, traveling swiftly through the city, zigzagging through the streets, making their way to the spire.

  Before the lines reached the building, Monroe twisted a dial as he’d practiced. If he worked fast, the Council wouldn’t even realize they’d been slowed. Tapping out the new coordinates that Ana had taught him, Monroe redirected the Council’s path slightly. Into the containment cell. The thin line of their trajectory shifted slightly.

  So Ana hadn’t lied.

  Monroe was about to touch the button to speed up their movement, but paused. Charlotte and Bill would be trapped there, too. The Council had promised they would work together, but Monroe knew that was a lie. What would they do when they found themselves trapped?

  Monroe typed at a few keys, but with the impenetrable language, he couldn’t figure out a way to isolate the New Yorkers.

  He’d have to distract the Council somehow. Keep them alert so they wouldn’t hurt his family for the redirect. So long as Monroe kept talking, bargaining with them, they’d be okay. Charlotte and Bill could hold their own.

  Monroe pressed the red redirect button, and the thick lines sped up, twisting along the city to the spire, directly to the containment cell he’d indicated. The containment cell door clicked, the light turned on, and through the glass he saw figures swaying inside. But only two figures.

  Oh God. It was Bill. Charlotte. His heart thrummed inside, stomach flopping around like he’d traveled a million miles in this city. He’d trapped them and only them. He’d made everything worse.

  “Thank you,” came a sarcastic voice behind him. “We couldn’t have done that better.”

  Monroe spun, then shoved himself away from
the Council standing beside him. Paris grinned as always, Cora had an eyebrow lifted, but Alek’s hand was on his beard, and he watched Monroe carefully. “How did you do that?” Alek said. “Did your friend teach you?” He swept a hand through his white hair, turned to the room, and spoke something in their language. “Do you prefer English, then? Leanor, come out, come out. We’ve caught your merry band.”

  As he said it, Paris stepped forward, gripped Monroe’s arm, and pressed a thick metallic box against his wrist. Metal spiraled up his arm, squeezing his skin. And then it burned.

  • • • • • • • • • • • •

  The pain sent Monroe to his knees. The burning roiled up his arm, every millimeter of the silvery spiral alive with fire.

  “She’s not here,” he told them, teeth clenched together. Spots of white kept blossoming in his vision until he squeezed his eyes shut. Breathed through his nose. Of course they had a way to avoid being redirected. Ana must’ve known.

  “But you admit you’re with her?” Alek asked. He turned to his companions and muttered something about Leanor. “Tell us where she is. Paris?”

  Through thin slits, Monroe saw the short man slide a small box from his pocket. The box contained a single dial, which Paris twisted with a grin.

  Flames seared up Monroe’s arm.

  “Agh! I’m not with her! I want to stop her! Stop torturing me!”

  Alek nodded toward Paris and the pain receded.

  Monroe took deep gasps of air, oxygen buzzing through his lungs and down his arm. Trying to get the burning to lessen. But even with the dial turned down, the prickle of pain seemed to grow without Paris doing a thing.

  “You don’t, ow, you don’t know me.” Monroe took a deep breath. Tried to ignore his arm and focus on the three towering above him. “But I’ve met you. We’ve met you.” Monroe flicked his eyes to Bill and Charlotte. Both of them were at the one-way glass, their hands cupped around their eyes to see through.