“How did you even know that I was going to be able to survive it in here?” she asked. Demetrius had warned her away from the tunnel many times, explaining that most people are not genetically disposed to surviving the trip through time. He told her that there’d been more than a few skeletons pulled from the tunnel over time.
Rickard raised his eyebrows and shrugged, finally seeming to be at a loss for words. “I knew you could handle it when you didn’t die . . . ” he said, gently using his hand to push the blade away from him. “Now, let’s go back.”
CHAPTER 14
February 1, 1998
* * *
Two years later
“I almost left here two years ago after I got back from time weaving with your father,” Allaire said to Demetrius. She couldn’t believe what he was asking of her as they stood in Ayers’s playroom in the factory building. “Do you remember what I said when you and Yalé convinced me to stay?”
Demetrius nodded. His face said he knew he had no leg to stand on. “I know. I know.”
“My terms,” she said. “I’m done answering to that psycho . . . I’m sorry. I know he’s your father, but you know what . . . ?”
“It’s okay, Beachy,” Demetrius said. “I know he’s crazy.”
Allaire dodged a toy car coming straight for her cheek. Demetrius’s son, Ayers, just looked at her and squealed at his near-miss. His playroom was spare, but he was barely interested in the few toys he did have. If he couldn’t throw it, climb it, or hit it, it might as well have not been there at all. There were cameras in every room of the Seres’ factory, and when she wasn’t right there to be the target of Ayers’s aggressive play, Allaire would watch him set up stuffed animals to target with kicks or punches.
“Careful, Ayers,” Allaire said with that half-patient, half-annoyed voice that children’s caregivers seem to develop without even realizing it. She sat down on the ground “crisscross applesauce” style.
“Allaire,” Demetrius said, sitting down next to her. “He needs to be around other kids. Wanda’s talking about full-time preschool.”
She rolled her eyes. “And your father?”
“I think he’ll live with it, for now. Until Ayers is old enough to start telling people things he’s not supposed to,” Demetrius said.
Allaire looked at him skeptically. “I wouldn’t be so sure. Someone has to drop him. Pick him up. That’s a lot of contact with the world outside of here,” she said, adding with a sarcastic tone, “and we know how Rickard feels about that.”
“I know it’s hard for you,” Demetrius said. “There’s a lot of stuff going on right now.”
“It’s not about me,” she said, pulling Ayers into her chest for a forced hug. “But, I’m only here because of this guy. Otherwise, what am I doing?”
Demetrius gave her that look again. The one he always gave when the idea of her moving on from the Seres came up. He’d never say it, but they both knew Rickard was unpredictable.
“I can’t stay here just so I don’t become a loose end,” she said.
“You could never be a loose end, Beachy,” Demetrius answered quietly. “But—”
Allaire shook her head. “But, I could.”
“It’s a strange time,” Demetrius said. “There are things I just can’t share. You know my responsibilities.”
Ayers toddled over to her and she pulled a marker out of his hand when he drew an orange squiggle on his cheek. “Why do you two keep going into the tunnel?” she asked. “For years, you stayed out.”
“Just do this thing my father’s asking, please,” Demetrius said. “Like I said, it’s a strange time.”
Allaire took a deep breath. “I want to ask you something,” she said.
“I told you I can’t—”
“It’s not that,” she said. “You say I could never be a loose end, but if I wanted to walk out of this building right now—just walk out and never come back—what would happen?”
Demetrius put his hand on her back. He gave her a side hug. She trusted Demetrius, but all of the brotherly feelings in the world wouldn’t be enough to overrule Rickard doing what he needed to do to protect the bloodline. “Show him you can be more than a nanny,” he said.
“I haven’t done that?” she asked. It had been two years, but she’d killed a man in front of Rickard.
“You know the way he thinks,” Demetrius answered. “Show him where your loyalties lie. You barely speak to him. Can you blame him if he wonders about you?”
“Then why does he want me for this thing?” she asked. “Why not you?”
Demetrius smiled. “Because you’re the same age as this kid, Kyle, and you’re a girl. You’ll keep him on mission.” He paused dramatically, “All I can tell you is that Kyle Cash staying on mission is absolutely critical.”
“What is his mission?” she asked.
He shrugged his shoulders. “I wish I could tell you everything.”
“Whatever,” she said.
She could tell that Demetrius knew he had her now. “Listen, have fun with it, Beachy. I’m actually envious. Go be someone else. Let your hair down. Maybe he’s good looking.”
Allaire thought she understood the idea of fun, but it wasn’t a big part of anyone’s life at the factory. Ayers was the only one allowed toys. Even Rickard couldn’t come up with a legitimate reason not to allow the child that luxury. Other than getting lost in one of the books in the factory’s library, there simply wasn’t a lot of leisure in her life. “So, what do I do?” she asked.
“You’ve got a job interview at a Puerto Rican restaurant in Washington Heights tomorrow morning,” he said. “Just say whatever you have to so you get the job. Make up some experience. Just sell yourself. If everything goes the way it’s supposed to, you get the job on Sunday, get your feet wet on Monday, and this Kyle kid shows up there to eat on Tuesday night.”
“I’ve only eaten at a restaurant a few times,” she said. “And I’m supposed to pretend I’ve worked in one?” she asked.
“Just think of it this way: you’re playing a part,” Demetrius said. “You’ve seen waitresses on TV. And you’ve seen teenagers in love. He just needs to believe you two met by chance and hit it off.”
Demetrius explained every last detail to her again, now that she was actually listening, receptive to the idea, because she really had no other choice. She’d have to be someone else. Create a character. Someone who could appeal to a teenage boy. Someone who flirted. Someone of this world, since she really was not. Someone who could have a conversation about something other than fighting, or silk blots, or caring for a two-year-old.
“When’s the last time we trained together?” Demetrius asked.
“I don’t know,” she answered. “A year or two?”
“I’ll meet you in the gym in fifteen minutes,” he said. “You’re not going on this mission until you brush up with the blade.”
Allaire shrugged. “I’m not even getting into a silk blot. I’ll be fine.”
“Still . . . ” he said. “Let’s spar a little.”
She was about to nod, but her ability to protect herself was the least of her worries. What Allaire hoped her surrogate brother would never have to learn was how killing someone fundamentally changes something inside of you. It became harder for Allaire to look at herself as the hero of her own life, and it changed the way she looked at the possibility in each day ahead.
Demetrius didn’t know it, but she hadn’t gone a night without practicing in two years. Her spring-assist, curved Karambit knife had become an obsession for her since it had saved her life. Probably too much of an obsession to pull out in a training session with Demetrius. The last time she’d held a knife to someone’s neck, she’d barely hesitated. What if she didn’t know how to stop herself anymore? She had already begun to eclipse his skills two years ago during their regular training sessions, and now any sparring exercise would need to consist of Allaire hiding her actual ability with the blade—a waste of time benefiting
no one.
“I’ll be fine,” she said. “I should pack a bag . . . Tell Rickard I’ll do it.”
CHAPTER 15
February 5, 1998
* * *
Four days later
Allaire sat on the soft bench in the lobby of Athenos, the Greek diner on Main Street in Flemming, New York. She was daydreaming about the night before—the magical night she’d just spent with Kyle. Her mission to meet Kyle at the Washington Heights restaurant and stay close to him had been a total success, but she hadn’t accounted for developing strong, real feelings for him. Everything they’d done had been a “first” for her. And keeping that fact from Kyle, who seemed to totally believe the flirtatious character she’d created, had added even more excitement.
She watched the old woman behind the cash register reading the newspaper and felt jealous. The woman belonged to the same world as the stories she was reading about. Even though he’d weaved nearly two decades back in time, this world was more Kyle’s than hers. For Allaire, even though she hadn’t set foot in a silk blot, this was just a pleasant vacation. And a reminder of how much she’d given up living with the Seres all of these years.
A waiter came out to the lobby holding her bag of takeout eggs. “Browning?”
She stood up. “Thanks, honey,” she said, winking at the guy who handed her the bag. He was her age, if not a little older. He smiled at her and shyly turned back toward the kitchen. What did it say about her that she liked her pretend-self better than the real one?
She walked down the brick stairs of the diner, hustling to make sure she got back to the field behind the high school before Kyle woke up. She’d started out pretending to like him, completely unconcerned with him being some kind of pawn in whatever plan Rickard had. But after last night, she was pretty sure she’d fallen in love with him for real. If this wasn’t what love felt like, then what else could it be?
And now, she was supposed to say “goodbye” to him this morning, never to see him again? After Kyle finished his business here and weaved back to 2016, by the time she caught up to him, she’d be twice his age. And what if, by then, she couldn’t conjure up this character again? The one that Kyle seemed to like? Maybe even love? She’d probably come on too strong, but he was interested enough to spend the night with her, so she’d done something right, at least.
No question, it had been the best night of her life, she thought to herself, as she walked down Main Street, back toward the field next to the middle school. And now she was just supposed to let him go? She didn’t even know whether Rickard wanted Kyle’s efforts to succeed or fail in talking to his father and getting him to help stop a bus crash in 2014. She wished she had more information so she could help him.
What if we both said, “Screw it?” she thought to herself. Screw Rickard. They didn’t need to wait until 2016. They could make a life right here in 1998. Move across the country. Go into hiding. But this time, it’d be them calling the shots. The two of them. Sure, the Seres might come after them, but she had her Karambit, and if she also had Kyle, wouldn’t that be enough? Life will always be full of risk, she thought. Why not grab happiness when it’s right in front of me?
She had to try. Make her case to Kyle that they should both abandon their obligations and be together. But if she told him who she was, would he believe her? Would he stop trusting her?
All Rickard would tell her was that Kyle trying to stop this bus crash would help Ayers in the future, but she didn’t trust anything he said. And did she really owe the Seres anything at this point? If the police officer she’d killed had been payment, like Rickard said, then the slate was clean. They’d given her a life—even one as constrained as it had been—and she’d taken a life for them.
She thought about Demetrius, and the obligation she felt to him. Then, a few seconds later, she practically bumped into Demetrius walking in the opposite direction on Main Street.
“What are you doing here?” she asked him.
Demetrius smiled and took her arm, gently turning her in the other direction. “I should ask you the same thing. You were supposed to leave him last night. You did exactly what we needed you to, but now, we need him focused on the reason he came back in the first place.”
“He thinks he’s gonna save twelve kids,” Allaire said. “Did anybody think to tell him that it’s impossible to actually save people?”
“Beachy, this kid’s gotten to you, huh?” Demetrius said.
Allaire looked at the ground. Why am I embarrassed? she wondered.
“I told you to enjoy yourself,” he said, “but you knew the deal.”
“Yeah,” she said, still not making eye contact.
“Then, let’s go,” Demetrius said. “You’ve had some fun, and if this kid gets his head out of the clouds this morning, then he can still do what we need him to.”
She looked at him now. “I hate that he sent you to check up on me.”
“Then, next time, don’t give him a reason to,” Demetrius said with a laugh.
“Next time?” Allaire asked with a skeptical look.
“Come on, we’re going to hit crazy traffic on the way back to the city,” he said.
She held up her bag of takeout. “I told him I’d be right back,” she said.
“Beachy,” Demetrius said. “I just told you, he’s got no time this morning for distractions.”
“I don’t get it,” she said. “If he’s just gonna fail anyway, what does it matter?”
Demetrius looked pained. Allaire had been told the bare minimum before she left. That was Rickard’s way, even with someone like her, who was nominally an insider. “We need to let this play out like we planned,” he said.
“You don’t know if he’s really gonna fail, do you?” she asked. Letting some juvenile delinquent try to stop a bus crash went against everything they stood for. The Seres were the protectors of time. It was why Rickard so fiercely guarded the secret of its very existence. Their less-vigilant ancestors had died trying to stop people who learned about the tunnel from using it as a do-over machine. Yet they were inviting this kid in to do just that? Something was not adding up.
“We’re at a crisis point, Beachy,” Demetrius said. “Please just help me out here, and just come home with me.”
“Then tell me what the hell’s going on,” she said, pulling her arm away.
Demetrius stammered. Then he shrugged and shook his head “no.”
She stared at him, hoping he wasn’t headed down a path where he’d become cruel and callous like Rickard. “He’s got you that scared, huh? Your own father?”
She started walking back toward the field where she’d left Kyle.
“Don’t do this, Beachy,” Demetrius called after her.
“Don’t be so dramatic,” she called over her shoulder. “I’ll see you back there in a few hours.”
She felt a tickle in the small of her back. The Demetrius she’d always known wouldn’t hurt her, but she feared that the plates of her world had somehow begun to shift. The fact that Demetrius had been Rickard’s middle man in convincing her to go meet Kyle was a good reminder that their friendship wasn’t the only component of their relationship. She gave a quick glance back and saw that Demetrius was just standing there watching her walk away.
It was probably true that she’d be back tonight. Could she really bring herself to go against the only family she had by trying to convince Kyle to stay in 1998 and just disappear with her?
If the world had really gone and changed on her, she wasn’t going to give up a few more minutes with Kyle, before going back to the factory and starting to pick up the pieces. Plus, she’d made him that silly mixed tape yesterday and hadn’t given it to him yet.
CHAPTER 16
February 5, 1998
* * *
Later that evening
Allaire stepped into the elevator on the first floor of the factory, dreading every moment of the next eighteen years. She had just left Kyle and all she could think about wa
s how to lessen the amount of time before she could see him again. She’d dealt with so many different kinds of pain in her life, but feeling like this about someone and having to say “goodbye” was a new one altogether.
Eighteen years. The number kept playing over and over in her head like a bad jingle. That’s how long it would be before she caught up with Kyle again in this timestream.
She’d given him that mixed tape of songs because she’d seen a character on TV do it. She knew she shouldn’t have gone to that underground parking lot to see him one last time, but she couldn’t help herself. If she was being honest, she didn’t care if she’d interfered with his mission or not, because no one had bothered to explain why he was sent back in the first place. She knew he was supposed to convince his father to take action many years in the future to try to stop a bus crash, but she had no idea why the Seres had any interest in Kyle, or what the bus crash meant in the bigger picture.
By this morning, Kyle would be back in the year 2016, and she’d still be here.
And now she’d no doubt have to undergo the indignity of a grilling from Rickard. She didn’t know if she could listen to his criticism. Not now. Not while she still felt gutted over saying goodbye to Kyle. And saying goodbye to that version of herself she liked so much better than the real Allaire.
Shortly after arriving at the factory, she sat in one of the folding chairs around the huge wooden dining table which no one actually used for eating. In her time living with the Seres, they’d never all dined together. It just wasn’t something they did. She’d done all of her schooling at this table. Been told by Yalé that she was progressing through her lessons wonderfully. And been told by Rickard that she wasn’t learning fast enough.
She had no interest in recapping her trip to Flemming. She’d more or less done what was asked of her. Now it was her turn to ask for something.
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