On Through the Never

by Melissa E. Hurst

  I’m so tempted to mention it to Grandma, but Ellis’s warning not to talk to authority figures makes me wait. He was adamant about preserving the timeline until the bioweapon attack. I understand that. I mean, I’ve had that drilled in my head by Dad since I was little.

  But Ellis could have warned me about Shan being shot. I could have kept him safe.

  “I’m turning in now. Goodnight.” Grandma stands and arches an eyebrow at me. “Remember, no going out tonight.”

  “Trust me,” I say. “I don’t want to. Not with psychotic Purists out there.”

  An hour later, I exit the apartment building. My eyes are fixed on the cloudy night sky, and I suck in great gulps of the cold air. It makes me feel better, being out here. But I also feel guilty for breaking my promise to Grandma. I tried to go to sleep, but my mind wouldn’t stop playing back the scene at the museum, freaking out about what could have happened to Shan. About what could have happened to me, if Professor March hadn’t pushed me down. My throat was tight, and my chest felt like a shuttle was parked on it. Since the Calmer I’d taken earlier had worn off and I couldn’t find any more in the apartment, I had to get out. My body felt like it would explode if I didn’t.

  Right now, it’s only a little after nine. There’s still an eleven o’clock curfew, thanks to the protests. I’m not sure where I’m going. I just need to be outside for a while. To feel like I’m still free, even though it’s feeling more and more like I’m not. How can you be free when you’re constantly worried that you could be hurt at any moment?

  I don’t pass many civilians as I walk down the sidewalk. But there are plenty of law enforcement officers, both police and military. They stare at everyone who passes them. I force myself not to look away. No reason to make them suspicious of me, especially since I haven’t done anything.

  “It’s a nice night for a stroll, isn’t it?” someone asks from behind me.

  I whirl around, instantly recognizing the voice. It’s my dad, and he’s staring at me with such a sad expression.

  I don’t know what to say at first. It’s still weird seeing him like this—Dad was forty-four when he died, but the cloned version of him appears to be a decade or so younger. Probably not old enough to have an eighteen-year-old son, anyway.

  I have a million questions. Instead of asking anything, I cross the short distance between us and hug him. His folds his arms around me, and suddenly I feel like I’m a kid again. I feel safe.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” I say.

  “There isn’t anywhere else I want to be right now. I just wish your brother were here too.”

  I pull away from him. “Do you know what happened?”

  “Of course. I got to the hospital soon after he arrived.”

  So it wasn’t my imagination—that shimmer I saw in the corner was Dad checking in. I feel bad for him, not being able to interact with us. Not being able to talk to his own mom. I can’t imagine how lonely that would be.

  “Can you believe Mom and Grandma actually got along?” I ask.

  Dad runs a hand over the top of his hair, his eyebrows raised. “That was wild. I thought hell would freeze over before that would ever happen.”

  “How’s Shan doing now? Did you get to see him when he was awake?”

  “I did. He was … doing as well as can be expected. He’s not in any pain, but he’s terrified.”

  My fists clench. I’ve never experienced blind hatred for anyone, not even General Anderson when he was such an ass to me last year. But if Jode Lincoln or one of his followers were directly in front of me, I wouldn’t hesitate to shoot them.

  “Maybe he’ll be able to go home tomorrow,” I manage to say.

  “That’s the plan. The doc came in right before I left and said as much.” Dad pats me on my shoulder. “So you can stop worrying. He’ll be fine.”

  “But it was my fault.”

  “Don’t blame yourself. If anything, I wish I’d been here to stop it. But I can’t change what’s already happened.”

  “I know,” I say, lowering my gaze. “It’s just, if I had let him stay in the room with me today …”

  “But you didn’t. It happened, and there’s nothing you can do about it now. What do you want to do? Keep second guessing yourself? That path leads to fear, and you can’t do that for the rest of your life. None of us can. We need to take action and get rid of people like those terrorists. They’re a threat to our security and freedom.”

  Two military Space Benders are heading our way. They scope us out and politely nod to Dad as they pass since he’s wearing his uniform. For the first time, I notice that his insignia indicates that he’s a colonel now. At the time of his death, he was a lieutenant colonel. So not only was he cloned, he’s also been promoted.

  I point to the badge. “So how did that come about?”

  Dad gives me a weary-looking smile. “It’s part of my new identity for when I have to go out in public, since I’m officially deceased. I hope at some point I can rejoin the DTA using my real name. That is, if the latest drug they’re using to stabilize me, Clonitin, works permanently. It’s tedious being sent on solo assignments all the time.”

  I’ve been wondering about that. The whole reason cloning was outlawed at the turn of the century was because they always ended up going insane. And according to Adalyn when I talked to her last year, the same thing happened to Alora’s father.

  “So if this new drug works, do you think the government might legalize cloning again?”

  “Possibly. I don’t know for sure. I’m just happy to be alive.”

  “But how do you keep it a secret? Everyone at the DTA knows you.”

  Something like sorrow crosses his face. “I’m not allowed to be around the people who used to know me. All of my assignments are out in the field, and they’re given to me through my DataLink by my superior officer.”

  “You mean General Anderson?” I ask.

  Dad ignores my question and leads me to a nearby café with outdoor tables. We sit at a table near the entrance and he orders two lemonades for us when the waiter approaches. When we’re alone again, Dad leans back in his chair and studies me for a moment.

  “Look, I’m going to just be blunt here. I know you’ve still been seeing Alora. Son, I told you to stay away from her for a reason. She isn’t good for you.”

  “Why do you keep saying that?”

  The waiter returns with our drinks, glancing around nervously as Dad pays him.

  After the waiter scurries back inside the café, Dad takes a sip and grimaces. “That’s a little bitter, but I suppose it’ll have to do. Now, to answer your question. There are two reasons you can’t trust her. First of all, she’s a Dual Talent. Don’t you remember before how I told you to not trust Telfair anymore? Same reason. Telfair and I were best friends from the time we entered the Academy, and yet he never told me that he was a Dual Talent. It was only after I was revived that I learned the truth, and learned about all the deceitful things he did over the years. That’s the way it is with those people. They’re power hungry and will put themselves first. Every time.”

  “How could you believe that? The DTA has been training Dual Talents at school. Why would they do that if they’re as bad as you claim?”

  He sighs. “There’s a split in the government. Some believe that Dual Talents are an important part of our future. Lawmakers; leaders in all three departments governing Time, Space, and Mind Benders; the owners of the History Alive Network—all of them would do anything to create even more Dual Talents. But there are others, like me, who believe they will eventually ruin everything. General Anderson is one. Even President Tremblay. With their abilities, Dual Talents could make a power grab and turn this country into a dictatorship. We can’t let that happen.”

  “But Alora isn’t like that. In fact, all she wants to do is find out who is responsible for her father’s death.”

  Dad takes another sip of his lemonade. “I can help you with that. The DTA was behind i
t. He was a danger to innocent people, so they had to eliminate him permanently.”

  The words are like a knife in my chest. How could he say such things about Alora and other Dual Talents? And how could he sound so cold about Nate Walker? The father I remember wouldn’t have been so harsh. He always tried to soften any bad news. Maybe the change in him is starting. I hope not. I don’t want to lose my dad again, even if he’s a clone now.

  Remembering he said there was a second reason, I ask, “Okay, you think Dual Talents can’t be trusted. Then why did you bother going back to save Alora in 2013 if you thought she was so awful? I thought it was because of Adalyn. You used to love her, right?”

  Dad lets out a rueful laugh. “True, but that’s when we were young. Adalyn did ask me to save Alora since we had remained friends, but I wasn’t going to at first.”

  “She never said anything about that when I visited her,” I say, leaning forward in my seat.

  “That’s because I never told her no. I asked her to let me think about it for a few days.”

  “But then you changed your mind. What made you decide to break our biggest rule?”

  Dad closes his eyes and heaves a sigh. “Son, I had orders from General Anderson. If you think about it, it’s not surprising. I had a non-regulation Chronoband when I originally went to 2013. How do you think I got it?”

  “Wait, what? Why would he do that?” I ask.

  “For the same reason he covered up the real cause of my death, the same reason he went through all that trouble to capture you and then allow you to escape.”

  Before Dad can finish, the answer hits me. General Anderson already knew what was going to happen, and he was making sure he preserved the timeline. Professor March revealed to me that the general personally investigated Dad’s death after his body was found last year. He already knew I was going to go rogue. He already knew that Alora was going to live and that Vika would die. He knew Dad and Vika would be cloned.

  He just made sure it would all happen, because during his investigation, he realized certain things had to happen to ensure the continuation of the timeline. The only thing I don’t get is why he personally investigated Dad’s death in the first place.

  Fure, I’m going to wild out if I keep thinking about this.

  I close my eyes and inhale slowly a few times. The implications for what Anderson has been doing are staggering. How much tampering has he done in order to preserve the timeline? Or has any DTA leader done? Do we really have free will, or is our fate sealed on the basis of what someone from our own future says we have to do?

  “I don’t know what to think,” I mutter, looking away from Dad. Across the street from us, a Jumbotron flashes Jode Lincoln’s face repeatedly, along with the images of the gunmen. All wore masks that completely covered their heads and faces, concealing their identities. There’s a reward for any information about the location of Jode, or anyone connected to his organization. Then the feeds cycle to various news reports of protests being suppressed around the country.

  Pointing a finger to the Jumbotron, Dad says, “That’s what you should be concerned about, not chasing ghosts. And if you don’t stop … well, I might be forced to alert the general that Alora knows more than she should.”

  My face grows hot. “That’s completely unnecessary. We haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “You should know by now that life isn’t fair. So you have to do whatever it takes to protect innocent people, especially those you love. From now on, I want you to stay out of trouble. Do your work at school, go home on the weekends, and don’t do anything that could put you, your brother, and my mother in jeopardy. And that means staying away from Alora, Telfair, and any other Dual Talents you might come across.”

  “But why? It’s not like I do anything now to get in trouble. And Alora would never do anything to hurt me.”

  “You feel that way now, but eventually she will.” He glances over his shoulder, then says, “I’m working on a way to ensure that nobody will ever get hurt by those terrorists again. I’m going to make sure that you and everyone else will always be safe.”

  Alarm bells go off in my head. I wonder if he’s talking about the bioweapon that’s supposed to detonate sometime in the future. The first thing that pops in my mind is that he could be responsible for the weapon.

  But that’s ridiculous. Ellis said the bioweapon was designed to kill innocent people. Dad would never do anything like that. He may not like Dual Talents, and he doesn’t like what the Purists are doing, but he’s not a murderer. Jode Lincoln, on the other hand, is a murderer. He has to be the one behind the bioweapon. After all, he hates all Gen Mods, especially Talents. So instead, I ask, “I don’t understand. What exactly are you going to do to keep everyone safe?”

  Dad glances at his DataLink and stands. “My time is up, but believe me, I do have something in mind. I just can’t tell you right now. I can’t do anything to jeopardize the plans.” He leans in closer to me, lowering his voice. “I need for you to trust me on this one, and I promise that soon we’ll get to be a real family again. Now it’s time for you to go back home. It’s getting late, and you don’t want my mother to find you missing.”

  I don’t want to leave him. I wish I could stay. I could talk to him for hours. “When can I see you again?”

  “It’ll be sooner than you think.”

  I stand and we embrace. Then I tear myself away and head back to the apartment. I turn back around to see him one more time, but he’s already gone.

  25

  ALORA

  FEBRUARY 20, 2147

  “Are you okay, Alora?” Mom asks me, her eyes drifting to my hands. I keep clasping and unclasping them, wiping the palms on my pants.

  “I’ll be fine.” I can’t look straight at her. I’m barely holding myself together, and if I make eye contact, I’m afraid I’ll burst into tears.

  Right now it’s a little after eight o’clock on Monday morning, and we’re taking a transport shuttle to the Academy. Other parents are escorting their kids back to school, too, and everyone is quiet. I guess we’re all thinking the same thing: wondering if Jode Lincoln will send one of his gunmen here as his next act of protest.

  My body grows tense as I remember the fear I felt at the museum. And then there’s the fact that not only was I interviewed by police yesterday, Time Benders have probably already been sent back to investigate the moments before, during, and immediately after the shooting. When the DTA officials view their recordings, they’ll see Bridger and me together and realize that we’ve regained our memories. Because what are the odds of the two of us randomly meeting up at school and becoming fast friends within a week of my arriving?

  What a way to celebrate my first birthday in this century.

  Mom reaches over and grasps my right hand. “I’m so sorry our plans were ruined last night. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

  That’s the last thing on my mind. Mom and I still had my birthday supper together, but it was really subdued. And it was hard for me to show enthusiasm when she gave me my present—a set of canvases and paints. I really love them. It’s just … how can you feel any joy when you’ve just witnessed people being murdered? Adults and children. And the look on Shan’s face as Bridger and Professor March tried to comfort him is seared in my mind.

  As we land, the pilot’s voice comes over the intercom. “May I have your attention? I’ve been instructed to inform you that as you disembark the shuttle, you will find armed escorts waiting for you. Please stay with them until you reach your destination.”

  Mom and I stare at each other in shock. So now we’re going to be escorted everywhere on campus? Things must be way worse than I thought. Last week, the escorts were only for the worst of the protests.

  Our escort drops me, Mom, and several others off at the entrance to Watson Hall, where we find another guard posted at the door, and several more on the first floor. It’s disturbing, seeing them here. We shouldn’t have to live in fear like this.<
br />
  We exit the elevator on the fourth floor and promptly run into Everly and her mother coming out of her room. “Hi, Alora,” she says, waving.

  I really don’t feel like making small talk right now, and from Mom’s expression I can tell she doesn’t, either. But the Darvilles approach us anyway.

  While our moms introduce themselves, Everly pulls me to the side. “Have you heard anything about the shooting yesterday?” she asks. “The DataFeed isn’t reporting any new information, just the same old stuff.”

  My stomach lurches. Why did she have to bring that up? The shooting is the last thing I want to talk about. But she’s eyeing me so expectantly. So I take a deep breath and say, “No, I haven’t. Have you?”

  Everly jerks her thumb over her shoulder. “My mum has been trying to find out news from our embassy, but those bloody bureaucrats don’t know anything either. Just that Time Benders have already been sent back to investigate and they will let us know if we need to evacuate.”

  I take a few steps away, feeling lightheaded. “I … I’ve got to go,” I stammer. “I’m not feeling so good right now.”

  Everly’s face pinches into a frown. “Oh no, I’m sorry if I upset you. I’m an idiot sometimes. You must not want to talk about all that. My mum says that some people are really sensitive to violence.”

  I excuse myself, rush into my room, and lie down on my bed, wondering how long it will be before someone comes to take my memories again. I don’t want that to happen. I can’t lose my past again. It’s not fair.

  Mom soon joins me and sits on the edge of the bed, rubbing my back. “Maybe I should take you back home for a few days. I don’t think you’re ready for this.”

  A part of me wants to take her up on it, escape the school. But if I do that, then the DTA will come for me there, and that will freak Mom out. She doesn’t deserve that. If I’m going to have my memories wiped again, at least they can do it here, where she won’t have to find out about it. And I won’t have to be hurt again, knowing that Mom would let them do whatever they want.