“I’ll tell you, Carlos, but we need to get in position first. I’ve sent for help. We need to be there when my dad arrives.”
It’s like Carlos doesn’t even hear me. His feet unfreeze from the floor and he stumbles to where the man he’d known for years as Old Dirty Plastered just plunged a hypodermic needle in his chest and disappeared. He’s on a return trip back to the year 2074, where he’s from. It’s where I’m from, too, but Carlos doesn’t know that. Yet.
I’m in as much shock as Carlos, maybe more, because I just recognized ODP for who he really is: General Enrique Safeco, my dad’s righthand man, and the person in charge of Safeco Tower, the second most important building in The United Towers. General Safeco is one of the only people in our world who remembers The Collapse – because he lived through it. I just saw him dematerialize as an old man, but there’s a present-day version of him still here somewhere right now, an unsuspecting teenager. Is that a conundrum? My head swims. I have so much to think about.
That wasn’t the first time I’d seen General Safeco here in 2018, but it was the first time it had happened since I’d gotten my own memories back earlier this afternoon. I’d brought Carlos directly to Smith Tower so I could get a message to my dad to help me return to 2074. I’m going to bring Carlos to 2074, too, so he doesn’t die in The Collapse, which is less than a year away. You can’t save Carlos. He’s dead already, my mind whispers, but I shove that stupid thought out immediately. I can do anything I want to tweak the future. I’m a time traveler.
Dangerous thoughts swirl through my head. I’m not supposed to change the future. I’m only supposed to be here to get things we need in my time. Things like multivitamins and anti-radiation medicine and toothpaste, and a million more little items I can carry back in a shield sack to ensure the survival of my people.
I’m the daughter of David Columbia, leader of Columbia Tower and president of our society, The United Towers. I was supposed to travel to 2007 to get tetanus boosters and a few other critical items, but Dad’s wife, my stepmother, Sarah, lured me into one of the straws, the empty elevator shafts that slice through Columbia Tower, and pushed me in. Trapped underwater and about to drown, I used the return chemicals in my vest pocket, the ones that were supposed to bring me home from 2007, to save myself from a watery grave. I must have lost several drops of the chemicals when I’d plunged, though, because I’d fallen short of my destination, landing in 2018 instead of 2007. And since I hadn’t been wearing a helmet, my brain got scrambled on the journey. I’ve been here for weeks, with no memory of who I was or how I ended up crashing on top of Carlos’s tent in the middle of the night, drenched in filthy, radioactive sea water. The answer is clear now that I have my memory back.
You can travel through time, but not space. I’d been underwater in 2074 when I plunged my chemicals, somewhere close to street level and near Columbia Tower. Here in 2018, that turned out to be a few feet above where Carlos lived on the streets of downtown Seattle.
Carlos drops to his hands and knees and rubs at the carpet where until moments ago, ODP – General Safeco – had been standing. “Old Dirty Plastered,” Carlos says wonderingly. “He just vanished, Boo. Into thin air. He was there, he walked out of the elevator, and then…” Carlos flails his hands in the air above his head. “Gone! I swear. He was right here.”
I cross to where Carlos is and drop to my knees too. I take his hands. “He was there. You’re not crazy. I know him, and his name’s not ODP. His name is General Safeco, and he’s a very important man where I come from. A great man. He’s my father’s most trusted lieutenant, and if my dad had friends, he would be his best.”
Carlos meets my gaze, confusion written all over his face, and I forge on. “I was worried about how I was going to explain it to you, Carlos. I didn’t know how to make you believe me.”
Carlos knows I got my memory back – I hadn’t exactly been discreet about it when the dam broke and everything I’d ever experienced came flooding back into my mind – but I hadn’t shared anything with Carlos, despite him peppering me with questions all the way from South Seattle to Smith Tower.
I’d kept my mouth shut because you can’t talk about time travel, except with other chrononauts, or your prep team. It’s a huge unbreakable rule. Anything you say to a civilian might unfurl a conundrum – a logical impossibility – that could cause the instantaneous destruction of our entire world. As soon as my memories came rushing back, I realized there was nothing I could say to Carlos that wouldn’t be fraught with danger. Everything about who I am is based in 2074, where a few thousand people survive, clinging to life on the top floors of the tallest buildings in Seattle, waiting for the Earth to recover from the catastrophic devastation of The Collapse.
For a long time, the only other time traveler I knew was my dad. Then I found out about General Safeco. As far as I know, it’s just us three, but if there are any others, it’s none of my business.
Carlos has seen things now. He watched General Safeco dematerialize. Does that mean he’s been brought into the time traveler fold, even though he’s not one himself? I know I’m grasping at straws, but Carlos stood by me all this time when I didn’t know who I was. He saved me from the 2018 police more than once. If I’d been arrested and put into juvie, I’d be as good as dead. I’d never be able to get a message to my dad, and that whole area is deep underwater in 2074. Dad showed me once from a helicopter. In keeping me from falling into police custody, Carlos saved my life. So he’s affected the future too. It has to be okay to tell him.
And I’m going to have to take the risk because I plan to make him a traveler too. I’m going to take him back with me to 2074. He won’t be here for The Collapse. Carlos is a zed right now, but I’m going to make sure he lives. I’ve already sent a message to my dad, asking him to meet me in Columbia Tower with three sets of return chemicals. I didn’t tell him why in my note, but I know he’ll trust me and bring them. Tonight, when we see him in the stairwell of the twentieth floor of Columbia Tower, I’ll tell Dad the deal. One set of return chemicals for him, one for me, and one for Carlos. Dad will have to let me do it because Carlos will already know about time travel, since I’m going to tell him before we meet my dad. At that point, it will actually be safer and less likely to cause a conundrum if Carlos travels with us and lives the rest of his life in his future, my present day, 2074. Dad will understand and agree. I know he will. He has to.
I’m still gripping Carlos’s hands and I realize we’ve been staring at each other this whole time, but I’ve been so lost in thought, I haven’t really been seeing him.
“Where did you go just now, Boo? You’re here, but you’re not here. You’re not going to vanish all of a sudden like ODP, are you?” He chuffs a shaky laugh, but I know it’s a legitimate question.
I shake my head and rise, gently pulling him to his feet. He stands a foot taller than me, and I tilt my face back to look him in the eye. “No. I’m not going to vanish like that.” I’m going to do it differently. And when I do, you’re coming with me. I guide him toward the elevator. I have so much to tell him.
July 2, 2018 – Ellen
As soon as the elevator doors slide shut to whisk Rosie and Carlos to street level, the silence of the deserted upper floor of Smith Tower is broken by the whisper of a carabiner skimming down a length of rope. An assassin descends thirty feet from the high point of the roof, landing lightly on the floor. It’s a teenage girl, lithe and strong, though shorter than average. Ellen wears a bodysuit of mottled brown and yellow. She planned her outfit to blend into the dappled light and the rafters of the ceiling. It worked perfectly. The bow and arrow slung across her back shifts and dips toward the ground, following the contour of her body. Ellen’s been here in the past for over a year, waiting for this moment, and she just failed her mission.
Ellen nearly cried out in disbelief when Rosie stepped off the elevator with that teenage boy at her side. No. It had to be a coincidence. Rosie wasn’t here to access the box. This
wasn’t the person she was supposed to kill. As she watched them move down the hallway toward the south corner, her thoughts shifted. Maybe it was the teenage boy who would remove the panel and pull out the lockbox that she knew was hidden within the wall. She could kill him no problem.
But Ellen watched with dread and horror as Rosie peeled away from the boy, went directly to the south wall, pried back the false panel, and removed the box. The boy gave her a pen and paper, and she wrote a note, threw it and the pen inside the box, and then resealed it in the wall.
Ellen’s heart hammered in her chest, and she reached back for her bow and arrow. She knew what she had to do. But… kill Rosie? Her letter-mate? The person she would die to protect, who would die for her in return?
Then the elevator door opened again, and out stepped General Safeco himself. Ellen froze. She remembered the direct order he had given her before he’d sent her on this time travel mission. Do not attempt to approach me. Ellen dangled in the rafters, watching the whole scene unfold. When General Safeco dematerialized in the hallway, she knew she could make her move, but she stayed put, wracking her brain, reaching back more than a year to replay the conversation she’d had with him before he’d sent her here.
What had General Safeco said, exactly? Destroy the box, then follow and kill the person who’d accessed it. Safeco had known this would unfold exactly as it had. He hadn’t meant for Rosie to die in this upstairs hallway. Her breath whooshed out of her in a relieved sigh. She hadn’t failed her mission. She was still only on step one. She didn’t have to think about step two yet. She could shove it out of her mind and wrestle with that later.
Now, Ellen moves like a panther to the south wall of the hallway, pries the panel away from the wall, and pulls out the box. She replaces the panel, tucks the box under her arm, returns to the rope, winches herself in with the carabiner, and vanishes back into the rafters.
One click takes you to PARADOX RISING!
Also by Penelope Wright
The Collapse Series:
The Collapse Book One: Time Bomb
The Collapse Book Two: Paradox Rising
The Collapse Book Three: Doomsday Clock
The Collapse Book Four: Five Minutes to Midnight
The Collapse Book Five: Fade to Black
The Collapse Book Six: Conundrum
Stand-alone Books:
No Use for a Name
About the Author
Penelope Wright spent a quarter of her life on the east coast and the rest in Washington state. She worked her way through college in restaurants, hospitals, factories, and everything in between, finally graduating summa cum laude from the University of Washington after an absurdly long time. She loves both traditions and new experiences, and will try anything once, except skydiving, which is a hard no. She lives north of Seattle with her husband and two amazing daughters.
Acknowledgments
I’ve always been fascinated by time travel and all the possibilities it holds, and I’ve wanted to write it for a very long time but found myself making one false start after another. I thank my critique group, Jennifer Bardsley, Laura Moe, Sharman Badgett-Young, and Louise Cypress, for their invaluable insights and developmental help. This book literally would not exist without them, and I cannot thank them enough.
I’d also like to thank my editor, Amy McNulty, for her sharp eyes and excellent attention to detail. Time travel is a difficult beast, and any errors, mistakes, or – gulp – conundrums are mine and mine alone. Huge thanks goes to Nicole Conway for her gorgeous cover designs which I loved the moment I saw them. An extra special thank you to Jennifer Bardsley, again, for formatting the inside to be just as beautiful as the outside.
I’d like to thank my friend Lindsey Wright for beta reading and offering extremely helpful feedback. Additionally, I’d like to thank Lindsey and my friends CarrieAnn Brown and Joie Stevens for being utterly awesome.
Finally, I’d like to thank my husband, Travis Wright, and my daughters, Madeline and Annika, for being the most perfect family I could ever hope for. You’re all amazing and interesting people and I’m so lucky you’re the ones I get to spend most of my time with.
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