I feel myself relax. My heart eases back into a normal steady rhythm.
I hesitate, not sure how detailed I want to get about my true motivations for leaving. Especially with someone who couldn’t possibly understand them. “You’ve seen all my memories,” I argue sourly. “You should know.”
“Yes,” he confirms, “but many are incomprehensible.”
I have to laugh. “I guess I left because I wasn’t happy there. And I thought I could be happy somewhere else.”
I can tell from the crinkles in his forehead that this confuses him even more. “Happy?” he echoes. “Why is this obligatory?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. It just is. Apparently I was never as accepting of my purpose as you are.”
Again, puzzlement flickers over his face. “Why not?”
I throw my hands up. “Because unlike you, I actually have the ability to think for myself.”
As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I regret them. They were rash and imprudent. I realize insulting him is not a wise course of action right now. The last thing I need is for him to get defensive, or worse, angry.
I need him calm. I need him off guard.
I quickly try to think of something to say that might reverse the effects of my mistake.
“I guess I was … defective, as you said.” I pray that this will be enough.
But I suppose I’ll never know. Because Kaelen doesn’t respond. He simply turns back toward the window.
It’s now or never.
Without another moment’s hesitation, I take a deep breath and launch my body toward him.
31
DISTURBANCE
I move faster than I’ve ever felt myself move. So fast my eyes can barely track my hands as they tear through the air and land on him. My left hand goes to his face, knocking his head against the window, as my right hand grapples for the device in his pocket.
I yank hard, ripping it clear through the fabric of his pants. I flick my thumb up on the switch, feeling the device hum to life, and bring the metal-pronged tip toward Kaelen’s forehead.
But I’m stopped inches away from his scalp line as his hand wraps around my wrist and pushes back. I press forward, scooting onto my knees and putting my body weight into it. We struggle, but it soon becomes apparent that he’s too strong. I can’t beat him like this.
Kaelen leans back and wedges his leg between us, using the sole of his shoe to catapult me off him. I hit the ceiling of the cab, my head smacking hard, my neck whipping back.
As I plummet down toward the seat, I twist my body, wrapping my arms around Kaelen’s torso, dragging him onto the floor with me. A loud crash reverberates through the car as I land with Kaelen on top of me.
“Please remain in your seats.” The cordial voice of the cab is a humorous contrast to our raging battle in the backseat. “You are disrupting the journey.”
With the Modifier still in my hand, still charged, I reach for Kaelen’s face again, releasing a throaty grunt of effort as I force my hand upward. He elbows me in the lip, knocking my head against the floor. I feel blood start to trickle. I nearly drop the Modifier as I scramble to get out from underneath him.
I jump to my knees, the movement sending Kaelen crashing into the window. He looks slightly stunned from the blow. I use this to my advantage, throwing my body toward him, Modifier outstretched, ready to make contact.
“Please remain in your seats,” the pleasant cab voice advises again. “You are disrupting the journey.”
Kaelen thrusts out his open palm, slamming it against my chest, sending me soaring onto my back across the bench seat.
He eyes the Modifier in my hand and makes a move toward it. I hold it high above my head, my knuckles smashing against the window. Glass crunches around my skin as the cold winter air streams in.
Kaelen lunges forward, landing on top of me. All the air in my lungs vanishes from the impact.
I squeeze my hand as tight as I can around the Modifier, stretching my hand outside the broken window, over the rushing street below. I can feel cars zooming past, threatening to knock the device right out of my grasp.
Kaelen reaches toward it and then seemingly changes his mind halfway there. His hand changes direction, this time descending toward my forehead.
Oh, no.
He’s figured out what’s happening. He knows I have the memory. He’s trying to read it.
I squirm, tossing my head to avoid contact. His fingertips continue to dive toward my face. I use my free hand to block them, shoving him away.
I cannot let him see this memory!
“Please settle down,” the cab warns, “or I will notify the police.”
I know I’m incapable of holding him off much longer. There’s only one thing left to do. And I really, really don’t want to do it.
Plus, I’m not even sure it will work. But I’m out of options. I’m out of everything.
I whip my head around to face him, reaching out and grabbing his cheek, forcing him to look at me. He appears confused by my action, unsure what I’m trying to accomplish.
I wrap my hand around the back of his neck and yank down with all my strength. Heaving his face toward mine. Our noses inches apart, almost touching. Closer and closer until he has nowhere else to look. Until I am the only thing he can see.
BAM!
Our gazes collide.
Our eyes lock.
The hold is more powerful than either of our individual strengths. Unyielding. Uncompromising. And utterly unbreakable.
Rendering us both motionless. Useless.
The spark ignites somewhere in the tiny crevices hidden between us. Sending electricity bouncing back and forth, back and forth. Like a bolt of lightning dancing between two trees. Growing stronger with each exchange.
I don’t understand it. I certainly don’t want it. But I can’t fight it.
And even more important, neither can he.
I feel myself being pulled in to him. Like he’s a red-hot dangerous sun, and I’m just a lonely rock hurtling through space. And somehow I know he feels the same mysterious pull.
I know it like I know my own self. Like I know my arm will reach when I tell it to reach. Like I know my fingers will clasp when I tell them to clasp.
Like I know if I move my mouth toward his, he will meet me halfway.
It’s as though we’re speaking some strange silent language that only the two of us can hear.
Now! I scream at myself. Do it NOW! While he’s immobile. While he’s held captive by this inexplicable spell.
Deactivate him!
I will myself to move. Pull my arm back into the cab, touch the Modifier to his temple.
But I just …
Can’t.
I let my eyes drift down the rest of his face, taking in his beautifully shaped nose, his strong, chiseled jaw, his pale pink lips. I can see that they are drawn back in a grimace. He looks pained. Anguished. Fighting this as hard as I am.
We inch closer still.
Neither of us able to control it.
This … thing that imprisons us without our consent.
This … inevitability.
Our lips will meet. Our worlds will collide. Our lives will never be the same.
I watch his eyes drift closed as our mouths linger a whisper apart. I allow mine to close, too.
And as soon as they do, I see his face.
Not Kaelen’s.
But Zen’s.
And not sick and dying in a bed. Not unconscious and helpless on the pine needle carpeting of the forest. But alive. His dark eyes gleaming. His lips curved in that crooked smile. His soft, gentle voice whispering Always yes.
My eyes flash open, my arm catapults down. The metal tip of the Modifier jams against Kaelen’s skull, behind his ear. His body slumps lifelessly against me, his head drooping over my shoulder.
I release a loud sigh, exhaling the last five minutes completely from my lungs. I wiggle out from underneath him and ease his head down ont
o the seat, turning it so that his cheek is resting against the upholstery.
With shaking hands, I twist his wrist, getting a look at his watch. It’s 3:50.
I reach into his pocket and remove the DIP card with my photo on it and the small cube hard drive. Next, I carefully peel the three receptors from his head, depositing all the items into my own oversize pocket. Pulling the collar of his shirt away, I unclasp the locket from his neck and fasten it around my own. Then I flip open the heart-shaped door and wait for the interior of the cab to fade into oblivion.
32
LAWS
Transession takes its toll on your body. It’s something I learned when Zen and I first arrived in 1609. The disorientation and the queasiness were startling, lasting a few hours for me and two full days for Zen. Apparently the farther you transesse, the harder it is for your system to adjust.
Even though now I’m only moving across a few miles, a few hours in time, I still brace myself for the nausea. The contortion of my organs. The pressure of my lungs banging against my sternum. The dizzying sensation of every particle in my body being flipped upside down.
I wait for it. And I wait for it. And I wait for it.
But it never comes.
I’m exactly where I was. Inside a taxicab barreling down the streets of New York City with a deactivated Kaelen sprawled across the backseat.
I reach down the front of my shirt, making sure that my locket is open.
It is.
I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and try again. I concentrate as hard as I can on the inside of the apartment. Holding the image captive in my mind. I picture Zen sleeping in the bed, the empty white walls and lonely, barren rooms. I block out all other sounds, all other smells, all other sensations. Until I can practically feel myself there.
I repeat the date and time over and over again in my mind, even resorting to whispering aloud.
“February 11, 2032. 12:40 p.m.”
“February 11, 2032. 12:40 p.m.”
“February 11, 2032. 12:40 p.m.”
Ten minutes after Kaelen and I left the apartment to go to Chinatown. I figure that should give me plenty of time to do what I need to do.
But still, when I open my eyes, nothing has happened.
I haven’t moved an inch. Or a second.
I let out a frustrated whimper. What’s going on? Why is it not working? The locket is open. I’m doing exactly what I’ve always done.
Why am I not able to transesse?
The cab’s friendly voice interrupts my thoughts to bring me an update. “We will arrive at your destination in twelve minutes.”
Think, I command myself.
Did my transession gene somehow get permanently shut off? Did the necklace get damaged in the fire? No, because Kaelen managed to get me here.
Was he able to somehow deactivate my gene? So that I couldn’t escape?
I glance at his sleeping face.
No, that’s not right either. He wanted to transesse with me to Chinatown instead of taking a cab. He tried to do it back in the apartment. It was me who refused.
My head jerks as I’m suddenly struck with a memory. Not an artificial one. A real one. Something that Kaelen said just a few hours ago. After I woke up in that bed. In that room.
I asked him if I could go back to 1609 to get Zen and he told me it was impossible because I’d already been there.
“The basic laws of transession don’t allow you to occupy space in the same moment of time more than once.”
Is that the problem? Was Kaelen telling the truth? Am I really unable to transesse back to a point in time if I’ve already been there?
That would explain why I can’t transesse back to 12:40 p.m. Because at 12:40 p.m. I was there. I was with Kaelen heading to Chinatown. I was occupying space in that exact moment in time.
“You are physically unable to transesse to a point in time you’ve already existed in. Because that would mean there would be two instances of you, which is a quantum impossibility.”
Yes, that’s right. If I transessed back to the apartment at 12:40 p.m today, then there would essentially be two of me. One with Zen and one with Kaelen.
Which means the only way I can get back to the apartment while Kaelen is gone is to transesse there now. At this very moment, while Kaelen is still deactivated in this cab.
Okay, this puts a definite damper on my plan. Especially if the invisible driver is right and we are scheduled to arrive in twelve minutes.
The car slows to a stop at a red light and I anxiously glance over at Kaelen. His eyelids twitch, startling me.
Is he waking up?
How long will he be unconscious? I’m unfamiliar with the intricate workings of the Modifier. He could be deactivated for another hour. Or he could wake up … now.
I can’t take any chances. I have to act fast.
I close my eyes tight and once again focus my thoughts on the inside of the apartment. This time, however, I change the time in my mind to right now.
I breathe out a giant sigh of relief when I feel the familiar swirl of the air around me. The uneasy twist of my stomach. The shifting of my cells as they prepare to disentangle me from this space and reassemble me in another.
I hear Zen’s strained breathing somewhere nearby, telling me that I’ve returned. That I’ve made it back to his side.
As soon as I open my eyes and see him lying there, still unconscious, every molecule of oxygen knocks out of me and I feel like I’m going to collapse again. But I will my body to stay upright. I warn my thoughts to stay calm.
The clock is ticking. The cab carrying my enemy will be here in less than ten minutes. And in that time, I have only one goal: to get Zen out of this apartment.
33
BORROWED
Transession is out of the question. Zen is much too weak. After what happened when Kaelen brought him here, I’m afraid trying to transesse him even an inch would kill him.
I have no choice but to physically move him.
I hurry over to Zen, sliding one arm under his shoulders and the other under his knees. I test a small lift, watching his reaction. He moans slightly, the discomfort showing on his face.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper in his ear, “but it’s the only way. I think I’ve found someone who can help you.”
I scoop him gently into my arms, holding him close to my chest. His weight is not an issue. I could carry ten of him without straining myself. But the obvious pain he’s in, just from the slightest movement, makes my knees feel like they’re going to buckle.
I take deep breaths, trying to steady myself.
No time.
Go now!
I shuffle through the apartment, shifting the majority of Zen’s mass into one arm so that I can open the door and then press the elevator button. I concentrate on walking smoothly, gliding across the floors, but no matter how hard I try, he still releases tiny whimpers of agony with nearly every footfall.
Hailing a cab is the hardest part. Not to mention the stares I receive from several passersby. I manage to balance Zen unsteadily on his feet, freeing up my right hand so that I can wave it at a group of passing cars.
A yellow vehicle swerves out of the traffic, stopping at the curb. The door flings open automatically and I gently lay Zen across the backseat, cooing soothing words into his ear.
I lift up his legs and scoot myself in, laying them down across my lap.
“Good afternoon,” the cab says, and I immediately recognize it as a different voice, this time male, making me wonder how many fake cabdrivers they created. “Where would you like to go?”
“GenZone Research Laboratory,” I tell him. “And please hurry.”
“I apologize, but I am only permitted to drive the speed limit.”
I try not to groan. “Fine. Just go.”
“GenZone Research Laboratory,” the voice repeats cordially. “I have located that destination. It is in Brooklyn. Is that correct?”
I have no idea if
that’s correct but as of this very second, anything is better than right here. I glance out the window, scanning the curb for incoming yellow vehicles that might be holding Kaelen inside.
I wonder how he’ll react when he wakes up and finds I’m gone.
“Yes, that’s correct,” I say hastily.
“Excellent,” the cab responds. “Please validate your identity so that I may deduct my fare.”
I lean back so I can dig the DIP card that I stole from Kaelen out of my pocket and wave it in front of the scanner as I saw Kaelen do twice. I wait for the beep and the word clear to flash on the small screen in front of me, but it remains tenaciously black.
Feeling anxiety start to rumble in my throat, I try waving the card again. But still there is no response.
“I apologize,” the cab finally says again, “but I was only able to read one digital-identity pass. However, my sensors detect two passengers in the vehicle.”
My fists clench in frustration and I almost let out a scream.
“You’re mistaken,” I say. “It’s only me.”
There’s a long, confused pause before the nonexistent driver replies, “I am definitely detecting two passengers. Please scan the second pass at this time.”
“Can’t you just go?” I yell back hastily, quickly losing what little patience I had.
“I apologize,” it says a third time, “but I am not authorized to leave the curb until both identities have been validated.”
If there was an actual driver in the front seat, this would be the point at which I would lean forward and strangle him.
With a grunt, I kick the door open and step out of the cab before gently extricating Zen’s inert body and maneuvering it over my shoulder. I glance hurriedly around the street, searching for another option.
I see another cab pulling up to the curb, its automatic door swinging open.
“This is your destination. Please exit the vehicle,” the familiar female voice says.
I notice the tip of Kaelen’s shoe dangling out the open door, twitching slightly as he starts to regain consciousness.
And that’s when I really start to panic.
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