One Way Fare

by Barbara Taub

  “He’s not Nephilim, whatever that is. He’s French-English.” Leila moved to the other side of the train car and stared determinedly out the window at a mosaic sign announcing Ø CITY. “And no, since I haven’t murdered any babies or robbed any banks lately, I don’t think I should have to look at it again.”

  Dr. Littleton nodded. “Can you tell me what happened?”

  “We don’t know why, but the villagers decided to kill us, and they broke the jeep, only they had guns not pitchforks, and they got Thomas. With a gun. Not a pitchfork. And the Metro signs appeared in the fountain, so we went down the stairs and took the train.” She drew a shaky breath and turned back to the doctor. “To—what does that sign mean?”

  The doctor looked at her oddly. “It’s the mathematical symbol for null, and the sign is for Null City. Where and when did all this happen to you?”

  “Last night at Fontaine Hantée.”

  “No,” said the doctor. “What country? And what year?”

  Leila had to sit down.

  “Hi, I’m Poppy. Want a coffee?” Leila turned to see a lanky, red-haired girl grinning at her.

  “I think the next thing on my to-do list is get hysterical.” Leila reached for the steaming cup Poppy held out. “But maybe I’ll wait until I’m done with the coffee so I don’t spill it.”

  “Good plan,” approved Poppy. “Do you still like your espresso a Grande Caramel Macchiato light?”

  Leila edged away from her. “Do I know you?”

  Poppy sighed. “It’s complicated. If I told you we are going to know each other because we already did, I don’t think you’d feel much better about it.”

  “Why, sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast,” quoted Leila.

  “I’ve always thought Alice in Wonderland was more of a documentary myself,” agreed Poppy.

  “So here’s the three-tweet version.” Poppy and Leila had carried their coffees to a pair of bench seats facing each other at the opposite end of the car from where the Scrubs were still working on Thomas. “You’re in the Null City Metro station. My job here is a kind of greeter. Null City is a special place where people who are … different … can come and become regular humans. Everything else kind of disappears within the first twenty-four hours. The deal, though, is they only remember the human details of their past lives. They get one Amnesty Day a year to remember the rest and decide whether they want to sign on for the next year.”

  Poppy paused but continued as Leila only blinked at her. “As you saw last night, there is a war going on, and it’s targeting people with special gifts. If you leave Null City, the ones who came after you will try to kill you and probably your parents as well.

  “You and Thomas can stay here in Null City if you want. But since you’ll both become regular humans, there are a lot of things in your past lives you’ll only remember on your Amnesty Day each year. Or you can stay on the train, and you’ll end up back in the year 1890. We don’t know exactly why the Metro is sending you to that date, but my guess is there is something you are supposed to see or do there.”

  She looked uncomfortable. “Actually, I’d better tell you one more thing. The Metro has been pretty erratic lately. I don’t know for sure that it will take you to the exact date of whatever you need to do there. It might drop you at a time that’s months or even years early.”

  “If we met in the past-that’s-going-to-be-my-future, you already know what I’ll decide,” said Leila slowly. “Aren’t you kind of cheating?”

  Poppy grinned at her. “You’re good. But I’m supposed to let you make the choice. If I tried to do it for you, well, let’s just say bad things would happen to me. Not the least of which is my brother would just never let me hear the end of it.”

  Leila wrapped both hands around the comforting warmth of her coffee. “So let me get this straight. If I stay in Null City, I’ll forget about most of my life with my mom and dad, and they’ll never know what happened to me?”

  Poppy nodded. “You might be able to leave on your next Amnesty Day, but with the war, the Metro has been getting increasingly unreliable. I just can’t guarantee you’ll be able to leave in a year.”

  “And if I go back to 1890, I’ll be dead before they are even born, so I’ll still never see them again?”

  “Not at all,” Poppy said. “You and Thomas are Nephilim, so you could both live a long time.”

  Leila could feel herself working up a quality glare, which she turned full force on Poppy. “The Scrubs and the ticket lady called us Nephilim.”

  Poppy’s grin was a bit lopsided. “According to legends, there were angels who took humans as mates. Some of their descendants are like my family, humans who are called Gifts because we have special abilities. Other descendants are the Nephilim, like you and Thomas. They can have different abilities, but almost all heal quickly and are exceptionally long-lived. So if you take the 1890 Metro and manage not to get killed, you will only look like you’re a few years older by the time this year rolls around again. Of course, there are the usual rules about avoiding yourself so you don’t distort the fabric of reality, yada, yada. But you could see your family again. Maybe.”

  “That’s the best choice you can come up with?” Leila winced at the pathetic whine in her own voice.

  “Sucks to be you.”

  Leila took a morose sip of her latte. A little heavy on the vanilla syrup, she decided, but not bad. She looked at the logo on the cup, a smiling crimson devil surrounded by a ring of words proclaiming “Damned Good Coffee.” If she stayed in Null City, at least she could get a decent Caramel Macchiato.

  “What about Thomas? Can he go home?” Leila looked to the far end of the car where the Scrubs were finishing up with Thomas.

  Poppy nodded. “It’s his choice. But unless he wakes up soon, you’re going to have to choose for him.”

  “What if I decide to just leave him here?”

  “I can hear you, Princess,” Thomas croaked.

  “There’s a shocker.” Approaching the gurney, Leila looked him over. “You look like crap,” she told him quietly. “I don’t have any choice if I want to see Mom and Dad again. But I think you should go home, get better, and get back to Cambridge. I’ll look you up in another hundred and twenty years or so.”

  “That could be a plan.” Thomas grimaced as the last Scrub tied off the sling on his left arm. “Except for the part where I don’t have a choice, either. Remember how I told you my family protects your family? We failed your Aunt Cécile, and my brother died for it. I can’t go to Cambridge if I’m dead, so I’m going to have to take care of you. But I don’t have to like it.”

  “Excuse me, Guilt-trip Boy, but just who was taken care of by an Angel of Mercy here?” Leila watched with interest as two spots of red appeared on Thomas’ cheekbones, throwing his freckles into scary contrast against his too-pale face. “So let’s get one thing straight,” she continued. “You are not the boss of me. If I let you come along on my Excellent Victorian Adventure, you don’t get to tell me what to do unless you want to see me channel PMS for the next century. Maybe longer.”

  She turned to Poppy. “How does this work, anyway? Will we forget the future or other equally lame restrictions?”

  “Unless you stay in Null City, you can’t forget what’s already your past,” Poppy assured her. “The train will pull into the station, which, in 1890, is the new Seattle Rail Station. You’ll have to figure out why you’re there, do whatever it is you are supposed to do, and stay under the radar until you get back to now.”

  “And you couldn’t be a bit more cryptic?” groused Leila.

  “No.” Poppy shrugged. “I still don’t know all of it. And the train is leaving in five minutes, so we don’t have time for more explanations anyway. I’ve already told you more than I should have, but I have a theory about time. Things can’t happen if they didn’t. You and I have already had a fight or two about that one.

  “Meanwhile, we have to get your
tickets. The Metro should let me use my pass.”

  Leila followed Poppy to another vintage vending machine with a METRO TICKETS sign. Poppy pushed the Start button and the machine lit up. In the glass-fronted top section, a mannequin in a conductor’s uniform opened her eyes.

  “Tickets for Leila Rice and Thomas Chapel. Payment charged to Anchor pass,” said Poppy.

  “Pass accepted,” answered the mechanical voice. “Temporal delivery surcharge: one year of life.”

  Leila looked at Poppy. “We each have to give up a year of our life?”

  “The Metro sets its own ticket prices.” Poppy didn’t sound surprised.

  “How long did you say we live?”

  “A long time. Usually.”

  Ooh-kay. Leila took a big breath. Then she nodded, put her hand on the lever labeled TICKET and pulled. She shivered in a momentary chill before two tickets dropped to the tray at the bottom of the vending machine.

  “We have clothes for you to change into and a small amount of old dollars to help you get started.” Poppy led Leila back onto the train. “Oh, and make sure you hang on tight at the end. I hear that the Metro ride is pretty rough if it’s going to other-when stations.

  “One last thing.” Poppy gingerly handed Leila a small gun and a bag with bullets. “Do you know how to use this?”

  “I’m a southern girl,” Leila told her. “I’ve been hunting with my father since I could walk. But I usually use a grown-up gun. And of course he has to do the gross clean-up bits because I don’t do blood.”

  Poppy startled Leila with a hug, leaned down and whispered to Thomas, and swung down from the train as it pulled out of the station.

  Leila caught a glimpse of Poppy’s face as her window flashed past. There was no sign of her cheerful grin.

  “This is so not fair.” Leila glared at the two piles of clothing Poppy had left them. One neat little pile held dark-colored boots, trousers, shirt, vest, and jacket. The other pile was about ten times as big and held—hell, she didn’t even know what some of it was, let alone how all of it was supposed to go on her.

  She looked at Thomas. “Can you get dressed?”

  “Yes,” he gritted. But the red circles were back.

  Leila turned her back as he reached for the pile of dark clothes. A groan behind her had her turning in time to catch Thomas as he slid to the ground. “I can do it.” He glared at her.

  “Gotcha,” agreed Leila. “That’s why you’re lying on the floor to put your trousers on. But since I doubt the 1890s are ready for you in your tidy-whities, you better let me give you a hand. And just for the record, I think my pajamas were nicer than yours.”

  “I thought so too.” Thomas smirked. “Ow! Watch the shoulder.”

  “Do you want me to get this shirt on you or not?” Leila asked innocently. She looked at the sling the Scrubs had provided to hold his arm and shoulder steady. “I think it’s got to go.” Thomas sighed.

  At last he was dressed and resting against the bench seat. Leila turned to the pile of garments awaiting her. “Whoa!” She held up a satin corset with hooks in front and two rows of lacing behind. “My friend Marnie wore a top like this to Prom. But she didn’t see it as underwear. You think it goes over or under the long slip-thingie?”

  A minute later she was sucking in her breath and pulling the little mushroom-shaped hooks into the matching eyelets on the front of the corset. “I think this thing has a steel frame inside,” she panted. “I think it’s named Priscilla and is left over from the Spanish Inquisition.”

  “I think it’s great,” Thomas approved.

  “Shut up, you one-armed pig, and close your eyes.” Leila turned her back on him to do battle with the layers that apparently went onto 1890 girls. “I feel like Little Bo Peep.” She struggled into the corset cover and petticoats before complaining bitterly about the number of buttons she had to fasten on the green silk dress. “But these embroidered boots and gloves are pretty cool.”

  Dressed at last, Leila glanced down the empty car. “At the risk of sounding like my mom, I’m thinking we better take advantage of the lavatories while we can. I’ve got a bad feeling about 1890s ideas regarding sanitary facilities…”

  She eyed Thomas speculatively. “Do you need any help?”

  His look of panic as he practically ran down the car made her feel a lot better about the corset. That lasted until she took her turn and realized that 1890s girls must have had bathroom strategies that hadn’t been passed down to their post-millennium descendants.

  Two coats hung from the hooks by their seats. Leila helped Thomas into the long black duster and shrugged into the other, a billowing, cape-like garment. There were two hats as well, a fussy little top hat covered with netting, and an elegant dark number resembling a flat cowboy hat. “This is so not fair,” Leila complained again. “You look like the guy from The Matrix, and I look like I fell off this week’s winner in Cake Disasters. I don’t suppose you’d take the hat with the veil?”

  “No, but I would like my knife back.”

  “How did you know I had your knife?” She handed him the sheathed blade, and they both gasped as a spark jumped between them.

  “It told me.” Thomas stroked his good hand along the hilt before sliding the knife into his back waistband. “How did you get it?”

  “Nicked it when you were unconscious,” she replied. “But about your knife…”

  “The train is arriving at 1890.” A loudspeaker sounded overhead. “There may be turbulence as we approach the Gap between Null City and the 1890 station, so we ask you to remain seated until the train has come to a full stop. Please make sure you remove all personal possessions. Mind the Gap and thank you for traveling Metro.”

  They had barely resumed their seats when the train plunged straight down. Leila’s stomach dropped, and she screamed as she looked at Thomas. His pale face had taken on a distinctly greenish tint. So that’s what the Mind the Gap bags were for, she realized, handing him one. The train’s ensuing dives and twists put to shame any roller coaster she’d ever experienced. Thomas hunched miserably over the bag as the train ground to a halt with a scream of wheels.

  “Fun,” she pronounced. “Let’s go on that ride again.”

  He groaned.

  Grabbing the two small suitcases Poppy had left for them, Leila put her other arm around Thomas and headed for the train doors. They had barely reached the platform when the train moved off, gathering speed.

  GABY, Chapter Five

  1972, Seattle

  The twins were thrilled with the room service cart. Hamburgers and fries on china plates, milkshakes in tall frosted glasses, linen napkins, and two kinds of dessert were amazing enough. But being allowed to feast while watching television awed even Carey. “Yes!” She high-fived Connor. “And we don’t have to get up for school in the morning, either!”

  Her victory dance across the room stumbled to a halt. “Only… We’re not going back to our school, are we?” She pressed her lips together and her eyes filled, but she didn’t cry. Connor put his arm around her and both looked at Gaby.

  “No, you’re not.” Gaby sat on the cot and spoke gently. “When Mom and Dad died, I never kept it a secret from you that the war might reach us as well. Every day since they left us, I’ve thought about what we should do if the war came after us, but I still don’t have the answer. Now you both just started manifesting your harmonia gifts, so we have to make the decision right away.”

  “Harmonia?” Connor asked. “You mean like you and Dad?”

  “Yes and no. For harmonia, the gifts can manifest in different ways, but they all involve patterns. Carey talks about how she wins her matches in Tai Kwon Do because she sees the patterns of the fighting, which is what makes her a warrior.

  “In my case, I follow the harmony traits. I see financial details as patterns, and it actually hurts when things aren’t in their proper place. It’s what gives me an edge as an accountant. Dad was the same, but he saw patterns in mechanical thi
ngs.

  “But Connor, I think you are manifesting concord traits. If I’m right, you not only feel the emotions of those around you, but you’ll also be able to have an effect on those emotions. It’s an incredibly rare gift, but without training it might be a danger to you or those around you.

  “So we have a choice to make. We can go back to Null City and all be safe there, for now at least. We’ll live as regular humans, and we’ll all be together. But we won’t remember a lot of things about our life here, not even things about Mom and Dad. And our gifts won’t be available to us, either. If we don’t go to Null City, though, I don’t know if I can keep you safe long enough for you to learn how to use your own gifts. I certainly didn’t do a good job of it today.” Gaby turned her face away, fists clenched on her folded arms. “If Harry hadn’t been there…”

  Connor’s other arm circled Gaby, and she felt those tentative calming pulses again. She took a deep breath. “We don’t need to decide this tonight. We’re safe here, and you need to sleep.”

  When the twins were in bed, she returned to the suite’s main room and turned on the television. The story of the attack on Mrs. Allen was at the top of the local news. There was a shocking update: the woman taken prisoner had died of what appeared to be a drug overdose. The newscaster reported their assailants were from California and bemoaned the prevalence of drug-related crime there.

  Gaby called down to the front desk and asked them to send up copies of all the papers. While she waited, she called the hospital to check on Mrs. Allen. She told herself it wasn’t really a lie when she informed the operator she was Mrs. Allen’s granddaughter. To her relief, the night nurse said her “grandmother” was resting comfortably. Although she had a concussion and no memory of the attack, she had a good chance for a full recovery.

  Gaby hung up the phone with a shaky hand just as the papers arrived. She was still reading when Luic came into the suite carrying the bottle of wine. “How are your sister and brother?” he asked. Gone was the tentative accord they had been reaching for that morning; his frozen mask was back.