by Zach Milan
Alek tilted his head. “Have you now?”
Monroe propped a foot under himself. Pushed himself up. Swayed slightly backward, but he used the wall to keep from falling back down. If he gritted his teeth, he could do this. He had to stay on their level. “After all of this. You’ll be so furious. You’ll know who did this to you. And you’ll go after her. Chase her through time endlessly, give her no choice but to activate her bomb.”
“But her bomb already activated,” came Cora’s voice.
Monroe repositioned his focus. “You know how hard events are to talk about when time travel’s involved. Once upon a timeline”—he gulped away the pain—“you got free. But so did Ana. Leanor. You wouldn’t leave her alone. So she created bombs. And even then, in that changed world, you still chased her. She still activated her bombs. I saw you chase her.”
“And why were you there?” came Paris’s rough tone. “Harboring your friend?”
Clenching his fist seemed to help Monroe manage the pain. “Trying to stop her. We discovered she destroyed New York. We’re going to stop her. My friends were trapped by her bomb, helpless. So I came back for them. Only …” Monroe frowned. “Leanor took my time device with her.”
Alek stepped forward. “She was here?”
Oh, no. That was a way to stop Ana. To let the Council trap her. But it wasn’t the right way. If they went through time now, if they captured Ana, they’d imprison Monroe, too. He’d find himself in the containment cell with Charlotte and Bill. They’d never get free.
“That’s how I got here. I forced her.”
“Hmm,” Alek said. He turned away, sat at a computer, and began rewinding through a view of the room. Watching as Monroe worked at the controls, as he stepped backward into the cell. “Aha,” he said, leaning in as Monroe and Ana came from the room. “Well, that’s easily resolved.”
“No!” Monroe shouted. Immediately the pain rippled up his arm, coursing through the metal spiral. Paris grinned widely, peering at Monroe as he dialed up the pain.
Monroe kept his feet beneath him. Ground his teeth together, clenched his fists, breathed in, even stamped his foot to remain under control.
He had to be as strong as Charlotte or Bill would be in this situation. He had to be stronger than he’d ever been. Stronger than even them, with their trained muscles.
“No,” he said more calmly. “Don’t you see? You chased her through time; you imprisoned her. None of it worked. So you came up with a different plan.”
“Impressive,” Paris muttered, dialing the pain back down.
“A different plan?” Cora stepped forward. “We told you about this?”
“It’s obvious. You kept putting yourself at odds with Leanor, when you needed to be smarter than a simple brute.” He fixed his focus on Cora, not wanting to bait Paris.
“Then tell us.”
Monroe’s brain fired, trying to imagine every scenario. Trying to put together everything he’d learned about Leanor. Not the woman she became, the woman he knew, the woman who mentored Charlotte. But the woman they’d seen at every bomb site. The woman who’d betrayed him only moments ago. And the woman she was that first time they’d met. The first time they’d spoken. A woman tortured by regret.
“From the beginning, Leanor cared too much about your world. Your city. Your people. She saw what was happening. Saw the rich getting richer. The poor living in shitty homes.” He was assuming now, inventing, but no one stopped him. “So she decided to do something about it. She invented a way to change the past. A way to undo all of your work. But it wasn’t about you. She didn’t want to be your enemy. She just wanted to change the world.”
“And she did,” Alek said, standing. Fury in his eyes.
“Yes, but that’s who she is. That’s important, see? You’ve always thought of her as an adversary. Someone to trap, to torture, to invent for you. Someone to leave behind. But Leanor won’t ever stop.”
“She abandoned this world, too,” Alek said.
“Only after it was too late,” Monroe said, hurrying. Alek was losing patience, even if Cora was listening with curiosity. “The point is: chasing her won’t work. You have to stop her in an even smarter way. You can’t think of her like you have been. You have to think of her as she is. Not the Leanor who’s foiled your plans. You have to remember the Leanor who wanted her city to be perfect.”
Alek crossed his arms.
Monroe had to finish this. “She ruined New York City—my city. Condemned millions—then thousands—of people to your time. You want her stopped? Easy. Get her to stop herself.”
Cora looked back at Alek, who dropped his arms. “Stop herself?”
“I wasn’t with Leanor. Not the one who sent you back here. No, I knew the Leanor who had to live for decades with what she’d done. An older Leanor who lived in a marred city everyday. Another city ruined by her actions. She couldn’t live that way. So she gave my sister the gift of time travel. She taught us how to use it, introduced us to her old self, and gave us a reason to stop herself.”
“What reason?” Cora asked.
Now Monroe fixed his gaze on Paris. “We loved Leanor. And you killed her.”
Paris’s lips spread into a greedy smile. Exactly what Monroe needed.
“Well, that’s easy then.” Alek stepped forward, gripped Monroe by a shoulder. “We’ll just make that happen.”
“Except you need us to finish the job. If you appear? She’ll run again. Make the Blast worse, regret be damned. You need us. Otherwise you …” No, that wasn’t right. “Otherwise your empire, all your plans for the future, will never happen.”
Alek froze. He didn’t like being out of control. Monroe would have to appeal to that. Cora was already on board, watching Monroe intently as he spoke. Paris was rubbing his hands together, ready to kill.
“But if you let us go now, give us a way out of this age, we’ll finish the job. We’ll stop Leanor once and for all. But maybe you could do it on your own. Maybe you don’t need us.” It had to be Alek’s choice.
“How?” Alek asked. “How could you stop her, when you’ve already failed twice? Didn’t you say both you and they got caught in Leanor’s bombs, too?”
“Her regret,” Monroe said, staring at Alek. He could use this man’s lies. “She ruined your world. Set a host of dominoes falling that couldn’t be stopped. And then she came to my world and destroyed a thousand buildings. She’s teetering now, on the edge of despair. All she needs is a little push.”
“To make her sorry?” Cora asked.
“Exactly,” Monroe said. “This building is full of tech. I know that. So surely you wouldn’t have had her build the Cornerstones, allow her freedom, without a plan to make sure you’d be okay. Not just convincing my Leanor to stop herself. But endless plans. Plans B all the way through triple Z.”
A smile flickered on Alek’s tight lips. “Her regret, yes. A perfect punishment. Come.”
“Only”—Monroe’s heart thumped—“you need all of us. I can’t do this on my own.”
Alek’s eyes narrowed. “Fine. Cora, release them. Paris? You know what to do.”
Before he could shout, pain coursed up Monroe’s arm, acrid smoke leaking from where the metal touched his skin. Choking, retching, Monroe crumpled to the ground. But as he heard the containment cell door click open, relief washed through him, despite his burning arm.
He’d saved Charlotte and Bill.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
THE WAY OUT
1,803,241 BCE
Charlotte’s nose was pressed against the glass when the door to the containment cell clicked. All she’d been able to make out were four blurry figures, one falling to the floor seconds ago. As the door to the cell swung wide, the barren room was flooded with screams.
Whoever had gone down had been hurt badly.
“The fuck?” Charlotte whispered.
Bill lifted his eyebrows, just as confused. “A trap?”
It didn’t really sound like a trap. The
y’d been confused when they appeared inside the cell; that felt like a trap. But a scream? “Maybe it’s Ana?” That’s the only thing Charlotte could think.
Staying in a crouch, she tiptoed to the doorway, pushed it open a little farther, and poked her head out. Then she saw Monroe.
She raced to him, cradling his head in her lap as she sat. “’Roe, ’Roe! What happened?” She’d held Leanor like this, too.
Her brother’s body twitched as he clutched his arm. His face contorted as he screamed, but occasionally a smile flickered there. When his eyes focused on her, his scream cut off, but she could tell by his shivering limbs that he was still in pain. “You’re safe,” he said. “They are too. Charlie and Felix. With Bill.”
Charlotte frowned, looked over as Bill joined her.
“With . . .” he began. Then his eyes widened. “In the past.”
Monroe jerked his head down—a nod.
Charlotte looked from her brother to the three people who had brought her here. “We trusted you,” she said. Why had she grabbed Cora’s hand?
“Well,” said Alek, picking lint from his suit, “perhaps you shouldn’t have. You’ll be happy to know that, thanks to this man’s arrival, your path has changed course.”
His ease, his indifference, his veiled irritation stung more than his words. They’d never had any intention of working with Charlotte and Bill. Monroe wouldn’t have come if they had. If they’d worked together, Monroe would never have known they were in danger.
“Then why are you torturing him?” came Bill’s voice from behind. Charlotte didn’t need to look to know he’d stood, balled his fists up. She’d seen him at every bomb site, heard that tone before.
“Oh, right. Paris?”
The squat, blue-haired man brought up a box and twisted a dial. Monroe’s body went limp, and he sighed, his smile growing.
This wasn’t like holding Leanor at all. Monroe was in control; Monroe was strong. When had he become so strong?
“Come,” Alek said. “We have work to do.”
Charlotte clung to Monroe’s shoulder, helping him to his feet as she stood. “You’re crazy if you think—”
“Come or don’t,” Alek said, sweeping past her, through an open door, and across a hallway.
“G-go,” Monroe coughed. He shuffled a foot forward.
All the time she and Bill had peered through the dim glass, they’d murmured about why the Council would imprison them. Asked who the fourth shape could be. Wondered at their future. All that time, Monroe had been working to change it.
She had to honor the work he’d done.
Through the hallway, an elevator stood open. For the little that Charlotte had seen of this world, she was surprised at how normal it was. Wooden paneling on the lower half, burnished metal above. Buttons that lit up when pressed.
They joined the Council—Bill under one of Monroe’s arms and Charlotte supporting the other—and Alek smirked. “As I thought.”
Paris released a button marked, “Door open.”
Charlotte blinked at the English words. The Council really had prepared. How long had they planned to abandon this time? According to Ana, the weather had shifted once everyone became trapped. How long ago was that? Long enough to prepare this much? Or had the Council known what would happen?
The doors slid closed, and the interior of the elevator flashed white. Only a second after the doors had closed, they opened again, showing a different floor entirely. Charlotte shook herself. Moving through space within seconds—that was exactly how the Council had brought her and Bill here.
What did that mean, that they added English words to their insane technology? Charlotte shivered.
They were going to wield their technology in New York exactly as they had here.
“Cora? The memory.”
“I know, Alek,” she said, and slipped off the elevator. “And I have a little theory to check on.” She glanced back, her eyes flicking between Charlotte and Monroe. But she didn’t explain. The doors slid shut as Charlotte opened her mouth to ask.
With a flash, they were on a different floor—the highest, according to the display above. The doors slid open, daylight washing over Paris as he walked away. “The orb. I know, Alek.”
“What are we doing?” Charlotte asked, stepping forward. She’d imagined another trap, cells or some technology waiting to betray them. Instead, the room contained hundreds or thousands of different plants. The entire ceiling was composed of warm orange lights. The clouds outside were visible through wraparound windows, but seemed distant, impossible. Birdsong lilted everywhere, even though there were no birds in sight. To Monroe, Charlotte asked, “What did you tell them? What’s the plan?”
He shook his head, eyes still closed as he scratched his arm. A metal spiral wrapped around it, Monroe’s skin raw at the edges.
“What is this?” she asked, but he yanked his arm away from her touch. This was the source of his scream.
“We’re here; we’re following,” Bill said. “Can’t you remove that thing?”
Alek tutted. “You hardly came with us of your own volition. Think of it as, ah …” He turned to Paris.
“An incentive,” came the response, but Paris didn’t look up from his spot on the opposite side of the room.
Goose bumps prickled up Charlotte’s arms.
“Yes, incentive. I’m certain Leanor told you some lies about us, yes? I saw it in your eyes on the street. It’s even clearer now. What did she tell you? We enslaved our people? We were responsible for every ill of our time?”
“We know what she did to New York City.” But Charlotte could see Alek wasn’t buying that. She’d have to tell him a little of the truth. “You tortured her.” Charlotte had seen lashes on her back when she’d appeared in rags. And, looking at Monroe’s arm, Charlotte remembered that Leanor always wore long sleeves.
“Ah, yes, that old gem. Did she tell you how we caught her initially? Those bombs weren’t her first attempt at stopping us. No. See, one evening, our alarms let us know there was a break-in. She sneaked in—presumably the same way she did today—and was about to travel back in time when we caught her. Where do you think she was headed? Back in time to give money to the masses? Forward to get help? No, no. She wanted to go back to the moment before she’d invented time travel.”
He paused, letting Charlotte figure out what that would mean. It was a familiar enough story. What had Leanor trained Charlotte for? “She wanted to stop herself.”
“Perhaps. Stop herself, stop us. We never figured out which, though we each have our theories.”
Paris snorted, and Charlotte looked his way. He was at a stone pedestal, tapping away at the top. Working fast on something. Monroe’s plan? Or some new trap?
Charlotte shook herself, focusing on Alek. “Wouldn’t stopping her invention solve everything?” Monroe felt stronger beside her, so she let him stand on his own, looking his way. Looking to Bill for his sci-fi expertise. “Without time travel, your world would go back to the way it was.”
Alek tilted his head. “Would it? Think—if you return to your era and find that you have not invented time travel, will you still have traveled? Will you have your memories? Most important, would you still have your time device?”
They’d talked about this with Leanor—in the future. If something happens out of time, it stays out of time. That way paradoxes were avoided. But if they returned, what then? Their actions remained, but would they be unchanged? Or would that drastic a change affect them?
Before Charlotte could hazard a guess, Bill said, “We would.” Turning to Monroe and Charlotte, he whispered, “Think. Where are Charlie and Felix? They’re with me in the past. But I died.”
“Exactly. You would. So would our people. Except”—Alek held up a finger—“we would lose any way of tracking them.”
Charlotte gulped. Ana had said that the stranded time travelers had destroyed this world. She must have thought this was a way to stop it before it happened, but
she was wrong. She hadn’t thought of the actual consequences, just blindly stabbed at a plan.
Just like her bombs in New York City. Just like her plan to save herself in the future. Until she grew old, Leanor would never learn to think before acting.
But Monroe was scratching at his arm, his lips pulled into a grimace, even as his breathing slowed. The Council didn’t think before acting either. They’d been about to imprison Charlotte and Bill; they’d slapped that cuff on Monroe and refused to take it off.
“So what’s the plan?”
The elevator dinged behind them, and Alek nodded to Cora as she strode over. “Cora. Perfect timing.”
“I was right, Alek. They’re—”
“The memory?”
“Here.” Cora tossed a small object through the air to him, touched her ear, and began gabbling in their foreign language. Sharing a secret that seemed to amuse Alek. Paris turned at her words, glanced at Charlotte and Monroe. Smiled, but not his usual predatory smile. It was something else. It almost reminded Charlotte of his odd look when he’d returned Charlie. He continued working at his pedestal.
There were too many secrets. Leanor hadn’t told Charlotte the truth, but she’d expected Charlotte to figure it out. The Council would never explain themselves.
How had Monroe trusted them?
“Your brother,” Alek said, his hand on his ear, “helped us realize we’ve been focusing on the wrong aspect of Leanor. Perhaps we were wrong to torture her. Perhaps we shouldn’t have treated her as an unfeeling enemy. He claims there’s a much easier way to stop her. See if you agree.”
He held out his palm, which contained what Cora had tossed over—a small marble. It didn’t look special. Just a simple multicolored glass orb. But then, at first glance, Charlotte’s astrolabe didn’t look too special either. So she watched and waited.
Alek rolled the marble onto his fingers, held it between his thumb and forefinger, then pinched. Light burst forth, not just illuminating their surroundings, but changing them.
Gone was the ceiling with its warm lights, replaced by an impossibly blue sky. Charlotte stepped through the plants toward the room’s edge, now ringed in an ornate golden railing instead of glass. Below, hundreds of buildings sprawled out. The streets zigged and zagged around, their pattern ridiculous in comparison to New York’s grid. Bright green trees covered every building, and between the leaves Charlotte saw people.