***
“Let me grab the DNA Detector before we go,” Nobel says when we get back to the common room after picking up our Contra. Stein tugs on her long jacket and stuffs a short knife in her boot. Then she gives me a noncommittal shrug that says better safe than sorry. I can’t agree more.
“I’ve got it right here,” I say, handing the device to him.
Rummaging through the tech bench, Nobel opens a wooden box by breathing onto the lock. Inside the box are dozens of test tubes with blood in them—our blood. DNA samples for such an emergency. He walks his fingers along the corks until he finds Sisson’s sample. With a small dropper, he puts a few drops of her blood into the machine, which then beeps to life. I realize I’ve never rifted and not been spit out somewhere in history. It’s going to be strange just mucking around in the time stream without any specific destination. The stream can be disorienting at times, painfully mind-bending. That’s why we use the Contra.
We stand in the middle of the common room and swallow the smooth, green pills. The Amber Room mission will have to wait. Priority calls. The Contra that will bring us back is secure in the small hidden pocket inside my vest. All Hollows have one, a secure place to keep our pills.
After Stein takes hers, I hold tight to her hand and smile. Something about Contra creates an almost euphoric effect, and it always makes me happy and tingly inside. As serious as our missions are, some of the side effects are laughing and smiling. We look at each other, and Stein has a huge smile across her face. Nobel smiles behind his surgical mask, his eyes lighting up. I glance down at my hand, interlocked with Stein’s, and then at her face as the common room starts to dissolve behind her. Our skin becomes more and more transparent until we are pulled by an invisible rope and stretched into a thin strand, like taffy being pulled.
A rush of wind and a blur of colors replace the common room. Usually at this point, we’re spewed out at our destination. This time though, our transparent bodies start to take form. I watch my hand become denser, more solid. Tiny, skin-colored particles start stacking on top of each other until my hand is fully formed. The process repeats itself on Stein and Nobel.
It’s like my mouth is full of cotton. “You guys feel okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Stein shouts against the wind.
Nobel gives me a thumbs-up.
Pulling the DNA Detector out of his lab coat, Nobel pushes the button. The gears on the end start to spin and suck up wisps of the time stream. He waves it around until the end dips, letting it pull him toward Sisson.
The DNA Detector pulls Nobel in a zigzag motion through the blur like a Great Dane pulling its master. He motions for us to follow, and Stein and I move behind him, but our movements are slow without the extra pull of the machine. I push forward as sweat rolls into my eyes. I can’t tell if we’re actually making progress or not. There’s no reference points, no way to tell if we’re moving at all. I can’t help wondering if the device is really working, or if the DNA Detector is taking us on a wild goose chase. Just wandering like this makes me dizzy. Stein isn’t doing well either. A sheen of sweat is forming right above the cupid’s bow of her lip.
And Stein never sweats.
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