by Julie Cross
I felt my forehead wrinkle—a post-drinking pain shooting right between my eyes. More proof that this wasn’t a half-jump. “Well … somewhere between nineteen and twenty … sort of … It’s kind of a hard question for me to answer.”
She dropped her hands and her eyes to her lap. “Probably not as hard to answer as other questions. Like, why you’re looking at me like that?”
“Like what?”
The second I saw her face again, I knew.
Like why it looks like I don’t know you … not in the future.
I opened my mouth, trying to come up with some explanation, some kind of cover story, like I had done those times I’d visited Courtney in a half-jump.
Eileen shook her head and held up a hand to stop me. “It’s okay, Jackson. You shouldn’t have to be the one to deliver that kind of news to me.”
Did she know she was going to die? Did she know when?
I leaned my head back on the couch and closed my eyes for a second. “I don’t know what to do … I’ve never been able to change anything. What if this makes everything worse … what if it fixes everything? What if I can’t ever do it again?”
The responsibility was heavier than I’d ever expected. So heavy that I almost didn’t want it, even though I knew what it could mean for me and my life.
Her fingers closed around my left hand and she squeezed it. “Why don’t you tell me the whole story? Start with the first time you jumped. How old were you?”
“Eighteen,” I said, opening my eyes. “But it’s a long story … and there’s parts that I can’t tell you.” I don’t want to tell you.
She smiled at me and said, “I’ve got time, and feel free to edit as needed.”
* * *
I drank the last swallow from the mug of coffee Eileen had given me and returned it to the table. After two hours, I’d had time to sober up, which was probably a good thing if I planned to jump back to the middle of our battle in 2009. Or whatever the hell was going on at Senator Healy’s ball.
So far, Eileen and I had been through my first jump, my experiments with Adam (the half-jumps fascinated her, just like they had with Dr. Melvin), Holly getting shot, me jumping to 2007 and getting stuck, then my trip back to 2009 and the jump that followed a few days later, taking me to the timeline I had just left from. I hadn’t told her anything about herself or Courtney, and she didn’t ask. Which made me wonder if she already knew.
“We’re still alone. Why hasn’t anyone else come to check out the situation?” I watched her write notes with such intensity. She reminded me a little of Adam during one of our experiments.
“It’s the middle of the night, remember?” she replied.
“Yeah, but I thought you guys were all about constant security. Keeping the future Tempest weapons alive.” The sarcasm leaked out without permission.
Her face pinched with worry. “Jackson … is that what you think?”
“I’m sorry. That came out wrong.” I tugged at the collar of my dress shirt and unfastened another button.
Eileen started laughing, and then scribbled something in the notebook resting on her lap. “You have the same mannerisms as your two-year-old self. It’s quite amazing, actually.”
“That’s a comforting thought.”
She laughed again. “Sorry, that came out wrong. It’s just … you’re quite impulsive, even for a toddler. And very gifted at charming apologies. You hate being told what to do … conforming. Especially when the orders are coming from Courtney.”
I suddenly became very interested in the pictures on the mantel. My sister’s name had just been dropped into the conversation for the first time and I didn’t want to go there.
“It’s okay, Jackson,” she said. The amusement had dropped from her voice and I could feel her stare beaming into the side of my face. “I know about Courtney.”
I shot a glance at her. “How?”
She swallowed hard and her eyes filled with tears. “I’ve known for a long time now.”
“But Dr. Melvin told me they didn’t catch it fast enough. That her getting sick was a complete shock,” I practically shouted.
Eileen kept her eyes on mine. “He doesn’t know. I acquired the information in a situation similar to this one.”
I wasn’t sure why, but this really pissed me off. The end of her life should have been devoted to fixing Courtney. She’s a fucking doctor … a brilliant one, supposedly. I let out a breath and bit down hard on the inside of my cheek. It was difficult to throw angry words at someone who you knew was going to die in a few months.
“So, what about Cassidy?” I asked, changing the subject. “What was up with the bruises on her arms? Did I do that?”
She quickly followed my lead and snapped back into scientific mode. “Well … I don’t think you intentionally caused harm to her, but you redirected the jump, and this distance … this type of jump, might have been more than she could handle. How do you feel right now? You mentioned you’ve had quite extreme physical symptoms in the past.”
I nodded. “I feel fine, which is exactly what happened when they dragged me along on some of those jumps before, but I don’t get why.”
She set the notebook on the table and turned toward me. “You’re using the other time traveler. Your mind is protecting itself by shutting down when someone else has similar powers. And it’s also possible you’ve gained strength in these last few months. Perhaps from growth or simply because you haven’t been jumping. I think Cassidy’s power combined with yours is the reason you were able to do the complete jump.”
“So … I might not be able to do the Thomas-jump on my own, and … and I might have done that to her … hurt her?” I hated the idea that Cassidy’s pain, the disgusting bruises, might have been caused by me. I sighed and then sat up straighter. “I won’t do it anymore, then … I’m valuable enough to Tempest without time travel.”
“Maybe,” she conceded. “But I also believe, now that you know the risk of hurting someone else, your mind will act accordingly. Keep it from happening, if possible.”
“Assuming I don’t turn into a robotic freak of nature that doesn’t care about anything.”
She smiled a little. “Jackson, think about it. When you jumped off that roof and took an ordinary mind with you, she was okay, right?”
I thought about this for a second and remembered Holly, helping me climb that roof, diving behind poles. “I think she was fine, but I didn’t stick around very long.”
“The effects, the symptoms, would have been immediate.” Her face turned more serious than it had been all night and she sucked in a deep breath as if giving me a warning that bigger news was coming. “There’s something else you need to know … but I’m afraid telling you will make things worse for you. You’re already allowing yourself to feel responsible for events beyond your control.” Her face grew weary and tired. “I don’t see any other option, though.”
“Okay…?” I said, already fidgeting with nerves.
“Well, what you said about the timelines and making new ones, that’s all true. It’s very dangerous. In fact, the results could be catastrophic. I have a source who confirmed this and I’ve tried to tell Chief Marshall and Dr. Melvin my solution, but I can’t explain how I know.”
“You can’t rat out your source?” I asked, even though it seemed ridiculous to protect anyone when we were talking about the end of the world or whatever.
“Yes,” she said with a nod. “Revealing the source may prevent their existence.”
Wait a minute. It couldn’t be … could it?
“Did you think she was Courtney?” I whispered, and was surprised at how eerie my voice sounded.
Eileen’s eyes widened. “I … yes … yes, I did. But just for a minute. Her eyes are blue … not green.” Panic filled her expression. “Please tell me you haven’t said anything?”
So Eileen knew Emily. Who was this kid? Some kind of all-powerful god? Or was she just a time-traveling puppet, and if so, who was p
ulling the strings?
“I haven’t told anyone. Not even my dad … I mean, Kevin,” I stuttered, remembering that two-year-old Courtney had called him Kevin that day in the sandbox.
Eileen let out a huge breath of relief and sank back into the cushions. “I’m glad you call him Dad, Jackson. It makes everything seem better.”
“You haven’t told him any of this?” I asked. “He doesn’t know about Courtney or anything…?”
She shook her head sadly. “That’s what I was getting to. I thought about telling him so many times. The hints I gave him, the bits and pieces … He didn’t take it well.”
“What’s that? What does he know?”
Eileen scooted closer and picked up one of my hands. “I told him that I believed you and Courtney were born to make sacrifices … leaps so giant most people couldn’t fathom it. And when the time comes, you’ll step up without question.”
My stomach twisted in knots. This was worse than one of Chief Marshall’s cryptic speeches he had given almost daily to all the trainees. “But it’s more than a belief, right?”
Her eyes locked with mine. “Yes, it is. I think Kevin believes me, he’s probably guessed that I’ve acquired unreported information, but he hasn’t asked. He always has the same defensive answer … You and Courtney won’t have to do anything. Won’t have to make any sacrifices because he’ll fill that role for you. He’s quite determined.”
In that moment, I felt closer to my dad than I ever had, even though we were very far apart. “That’s exactly what he did. He made every effort to give me virtually no responsibility. Nothing to worry about or fear. At least he did … until recently. But that was more my fault than his. Where is he right now? I mean, in this year.”
She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hands. “I’m not sure. Actually, that’s the reason I couldn’t sleep. He hasn’t called for five days. He almost always finds a way to contact me sooner than that.”
“Well, I guess now you don’t have to worry. You know how it turns out.”
“That’s true,” she said.
Exhaustion started to creep up. I leaned forward and rested my head in my hands for a second, rubbing the blurriness from my eyes. “Damn,” I muttered.
Eileen rested a hand on my back. “I shouldn’t have told you all this. It’s too much, isn’t it?” She paused for a second before answering her own question. “Of course it’s too much.”
“No, it’s not what you said … it’s just…” I lifted my head and looked at her again. “I don’t really think I’m that person. The self-sacrificing type. I know it seems like that because of what I told you about Holly, but I’ve been having a lot of weak moments lately. Especially tonight. And I keep having to leave everyone.”
“What do you mean?” she asked. “Holly has no memories of you leaving her. It was quite brilliant, actually.”
“Yeah, that version of her. What about the one I lured into a relationship and then left in 2007? And what about the 009 Holly, sitting at home waiting for me to come over? The guy who asked her to marry him and jumped off a roof to save her? She’s still there, and does that mean, when I vanished, the asshole version of me reappeared? That’ll go over real well.” Once I started my guilt-ridden rambling, it was hard to stop. “And what about Adam?… I left a bunch of different Adams with some scary information and no way to get answers.”
Sympathy filled her eyes. “I think you’re going to have to explore the possibility that maybe … maybe you’ve done the complete jump before? I’m just not sure…”
“What? Not sure about what?”
“This is one of the things I was trying to tell you a minute ago,” she said. “I’m not sure you can create multiple timelines … One other timeline, maybe … but two…? I think it’s more likely you’ve done complete jumps without realizing it. But if you did this the last time, then where—”
“Is the other me?” I finished for her. “What do you mean, I can’t make more timelines? I thought that was what all the EOTs were doing all the time … except a few of the exceptional ones. So, they can make dozens of alternate worlds and I can only make one? And sometimes … I don’t really understand the threat from the Enemies of Time. If they all jump around to these different timelines, then why are they so determined to alter the world I came from … in 2009? Why don’t they just jump back to the dinosaur age and fix everything?”
“Jackson, do you understand what my contribution to Axelle was?”
I shook my head. The only part I had heard was the giving-birth part. This must be the big information she’d been afraid to tell me a few minutes ago.
“Right now, in this year … very few time travelers have been seen. As a teenager, I studied Dr. Melvin’s research, which dated back to the 1950s. We understood how time travel worked, how the gene showed up in random people, and that actually being able to jump through time and survive it was truly rare. But making a new timeline, an alternate universe … that was my theory, except it wasn’t possible.” Her face lit up with a strange excitement only a brilliant and slightly mad scientist could pull off. “In fact, it’s still not possible in this year.”
Huh? “Huh?”
“You thought the half-jumps were what made you different, but that’s just your body’s way of protecting itself when you attempt the complete jump and fail. At least I’m assuming that.” She paused for several seconds. “You are the only one who can make a new timeline. Not Thomas … not any of the others. It was a gut feeling I had. If I mixed the cloned time traveler with a normal man, we’d have branches splitting from our main world. A way out … if you needed it.”
I tried to swallow this new information, but it just got stuck in my head. “Wait. So, all the stuff everyone else in Tempest believes, about the EOTs making new timelines constantly because they can’t do complete jumps … it’s not true?”
“Think about it, Jackson. Suddenly the EOTs are everywhere, when before we had only seen a few, and rarely at that. Maybe you haven’t been given that data, but from what you’ve told me, the world has changed a lot since you took that jump back to 2007. Like you opened a door and they can go through it now. All the ones with the Tempus gene that weren’t strong enough, skilled enough to do the complete jump, didn’t even know they could time-travel and suddenly they can. It’s like a crutch you’ve provided.”
The vision of the line of EOTs in Heidelberg, appearing out of nowhere, sprang into my mind. Everyone was shocked by the increase in numbers. I opened the door … They were bouncing off the world (or worlds?) I created.
That was when I remembered Dad, Dr. Melvin, and Chief Marshall scrambling to answer my questions in that 2007 timeline. They were seeing Eileen’s theory come alive for the first time.
“But why would you want that?” I couldn’t help asking.
“I didn’t exactly plan for the others to be able to follow you, but now I’m seeing that it’s possible. I thought it would be a way for you to escape them, if needed. Go somewhere that they couldn’t.” Her eyes started to tear up again and she covered her face for a second with her hands. “I never wanted you to be a weapon, Jackson. Never wanted Courtney to get sick … but when Emily came to tell me you would be a part of this and possibly a part of the solution, I knew that I’d have to accept it. Let it happen. Do everything I could to make you the kind of person who wouldn’t stop searching for the right answer.”
As crazy as this information seemed, it almost made sense. She knew Courtney and I would be surrounded by people who could take control, try to use us. So she gave us a way out. A choice. A little bit of free will.
We were interrupted by the phone ringing. At three in the morning. Eileen jumped, looking startled, and then said, “I’m sorry, I have to get that.”
She took off for the kitchen and I could hear her say, “Kevin!”
I stood up, shaking out my stiff legs, then walked over to the patio door. Rain pounded against the balcony outside. Rain that I might have caused wi
th my last jump. I closed the blinds, feeling way too exposed, and moved toward the fireplace. It was lined with pictures I’d never seen before. Dad holding me on his lap, playing the piano. Dad asleep in a rocking chair with Courtney snoozing in his arms. She looked so little, maybe a year old.
“Yes, the kids are fine,” Eileen said, still on the phone with the younger version of Dad.
I knelt down and picked up a puzzle from a stack on the floor. These toys were proof of my childhood with her. Evidence that I had a mother. At least for a little while. A wave of sadness suddenly hit me, knowing that the only memories I had of Eileen were five minutes in a sandbox and a few puzzles.
And tonight. I had tonight.
“Jackson’s been wearing your tool belt around night and day,” Eileen said. “He can’t wait for you to come back.” She paused for a long minute. “No … no, everything’s fine … I’m just a little tired … and I miss you.”
Tears trembled in her voice. I wondered how the dad on the phone would handle that. Then a weird idea formed in my head, probably because I hadn’t seen him for so long. And I really wanted to … or at least hear his voice. I tried to remember when, exactly, Eileen had said he’d left. And when I couldn’t recall, I just picked a random date in the past. Then I closed my eyes and focused on that day. I nearly yelled out loud when I felt the splitting-apart feeling. It had been a long time since I’d done a half-jump and it seemed worse than I remembered it.
OCTOBER 5, 1991
My reward for withstanding that awful sensation was the wonderful, blissful feeling of not feeling that pounding headache or the results of the mild beating I had taken before jumping to 1992. I was in the kitchen again and I could hear music.
A Billy Joel song.
I crept slowly out of the kitchen and into the hallway. I couldn’t hear any talking, but when I peeked around the corner into the living room, Dad was there.
A very young Dad. Like my age now. He was lying on the carpet right in front of a blazing fireplace, his eyes closed, but he was tapping his fingers to the music. I remembered the way he seemed to know I had been hiding in that coat closet the time I jumped to 2003 and ended up in his office. I’d have to be careful here if I wanted to observe for any length of time.