Glitch

by Laura Martin

  “You know my favorite Edison quote, right?” she finally said.

  I rolled my eyes, because I knew exactly what quote she was talking about. “It’s the one about failing ten thousand times when he tried to invent the light bulb, right? Is that how long you think it’s going to take me to pass the Lincoln assassination?”

  Mom laughed, a rare thing for her, and shook her head. “No, the one you’re thinking of is his most famous, of course. I believe that one went, I have not failed. I’ve just found ten thousand ways that won’t work, and I must say I like that one. But Thomas Edison had another one that I like even more.” When I just raised an eyebrow, she went on. “It’s one that I used to have on the wall of my dorm room when I was a cadet. I found it during a study session over Edison, and it always resonated with me.” She cleared her throat and waited until I looked up and made eye contact before continuing, a trick she’d been doing for as long as I could remember. “Many of life’s failures are experienced by people who do not realize how close they were to success when they gave up,” she quoted.

  “That’s very nice, Mom,” I said, “but what are you trying to get at here?”

  “I think you should participate in the simulation test tomorrow,” she said. “I think you need to mix things up a bit. It would be a good challenge for you.”

  My thoughts flashed immediately to Elliot and his smug confidence that he was going to win that test and level up. He’d talked about it like it was a sure thing. I shook my head.

  “I don’t want to,” I said, bracing myself for a fight so familiar I could have it in my sleep.

  “You are the only fifth-year cadet who hasn’t participated in one yet,” she said. “Win or lose, the practice would be good for you.”

  “No,” I said again. “I won’t be humiliated in front of a bunch of judges and whatever audience shows up to watch. It’s bad enough that everyone just thinks I’m dumb. I don’t need to prove them all right.” I stood up and stomped out of the room and up the stairs.

  “Regan!” my mom called after me, but I didn’t turn around. I had bigger things to worry about than the stupid simulation test tomorrow. I had to go face Elliot Mason.

  Chapter Five

  Elliot

  Sneaking out of the dorm was easy, and I thanked whatever luck had landed me a room on the first floor. All I had to do was open my window and slip out into the cool of the night. A night that felt too large and too dark. I found myself hesitating outside my own window, suddenly wanting nothing more than to crawl back into my tiny room and pretend none of this was happening. It made no sense. This had been my idea, after all. My impatience to talk to Regan face-to-face had me standing outside my dorm room after curfew, something that I’d never done before. It was against the rules, and I liked rules too much to break them all willy-nilly. I felt like I was wearing someone else’s skin, and it was a few sizes too small and made completely out of itchy wool. This wasn’t me. I didn’t carry incriminating evidence around under the insole of my right shoe. Evidence that could end my career and Regan’s in a heartbeat.

  Thinking about that letter gave me goose bumps, and I shivered even though I was perfectly warm inside my green cadet sweatshirt. Finally, willing myself into action, I jogged silently down the path that led around the outer edge of the Academy next to the wall. Standing about thirty feet high and built of solid stone like something from medieval times, it wrapped around the entire campus. When it had originally been erected, some people had even compared it to the Great Wall of China, although that was pushing it a bit. Still, it was impressive, and it had a bike path built right next to it that Academy residents used regularly for exercise. Tonight, I was the only one on it. Even so, I made sure to keep to the shadows, my head on a constant swivel for a roaming security guard. When I’d demanded that Regan meet me tonight, I hadn’t really thought through it all. I’d been so focused on getting answers that I’d thrown all caution out the window, and I never threw caution out the window. Being out at night made me feel exposed and vulnerable in a way I’d never experienced before, and I didn’t like it. Not one bit.

  The stupid fountain Regan had mentioned sat on the opposite side of campus from my dorm, and I picked up the pace. As I rounded the last corner, the fountain in question came into view. It was larger than most, standing just over fifteen feet high and carved from marble to mimic the famous Trevi Fountain in Italy. If we couldn’t ever see the real world, they would re-create it in miniature for us here. I slowed my pace, breathing harder than I probably should be for such a short jog, and I made a mental note to up my cardio training sessions. Regan was nowhere to be seen. Either I’d beaten her, or she wasn’t going to show.

  I scowled as I remembered Regan shoving me into the icy water of this particular fountain. It had been December a few years ago, nearly Christmastime, and the fountain was decorated with large swoops of multi-colored lights that twinkled on and off. It had been a particularly good day. I’d gotten Martin Luther King’s “I Have a Dream” speech as the simulation for my final and spotted the Butterfly trying to prevent King from making it to the Lincoln Memorial.

  My good mood that day had come crashing down around my ears when Regan had cut me off on the path. And it wasn’t even so much that she’d cut me off; it was that she didn’t even notice that she’d cut me off. Like always, she was caught up in her own little world, and don’t ask me why, but it was too much that day. So I’d reached a foot out and caught hers. I’d only meant to trip her a little, to bring her back to reality so she’d apologize for cutting me off. But it worked too well. She’d gone sprawling face-first into the dirty, slushy snow. She’d looked so shocked as she picked herself up, her cadet jacket all muck covered and soaked, that I’d had to laugh. Which was when she’d reached out and given me a quick stiff-armed shove that had tipped me sideways and right into the frigid half-drained fountain.

  I’d come up sputtering in time to see Regan’s shocked face. Just like mine, her plan had worked out better than she’d expected it to. Before I could climb out of the fountain to retaliate, she’d turned tail and sprinted toward home. I’d almost turned her in for it, but knowing my luck a camera would have caught me tripping her, and I’d have gotten in trouble too. Thinking about a camera made the hairs on the back of my neck prickle, and I glanced around nervously at the surrounding trees, glad I hadn’t decided to pull that thing out of my shoe to read for the twentieth time. If I got caught now, all I’d get was a scolding for being out past curfew. Not wanting to take any chances, though, I stepped a little farther into the shadows of the trees. Taking a deep breath, I turned my attention to the fountain, the soft rush of its spouts doing nothing to ease the knot in my stomach. How much about this did Regan know? Was she playing dumb earlier when she pretended like she’d never seen the thing before? Was it all a setup? What if she decided to turn the tables and show up with security officers? The sound of a twig snapping made me jump and I spun to face Regan as she jogged out of the darkness.

  Chapter Six

  Regan

  Elliot was leaning against a tree near the edge of the fountain, staring into it like it held all the answers of the universe, but when he looked at me, his expression made me stop cold in my tracks. Gone was his normal contemptuous and haughty look, and in its place was fury. Why in the world was he mad? If anything, I was the one who should be mad. He’d stolen my letter, after all. He was the reason I’d had to climb out my window and down the side of the house like a very uncoordinated monkey. At this very moment my mom could be knocking on my bedroom door, and I’d be beyond busted.

  “What’s your problem?” I asked, taking an involuntary step back.

  “You,” he said, his voice hard.

  “Well, what else is new?” I asked, deciding that keeping things light was probably in my best interest. Elliot seemed to be on edge, and the last thing I needed was to push him over it. The thought had me stifling a smile as I glanced behind him, reliving the lovely moment
when I’d shoved his smug face directly into that fountain. The next second I caught sight of Elliot again, and all thoughts of smiling disappeared.

  “So, I’m guessing you read the letter?” I asked.

  Elliot jumped at the word letter like it had electrocuted him somehow, glancing left and right as though to make sure we were alone. “Yes,” he finally hissed, the word barely loud enough for me to hear.

  “So?” I said. “What did it say?”

  “It said my name,” he said, coming over to lean against one of the large oak trees that bordered the fountain. “That’s enough, isn’t it? If it didn’t have that, you’d be in jail already. But you wrote the one thing that was sure to condemn me on that, that . . .” He faltered, his face twisting in a grimace as he searched for words. “Well, you know what.”

  “Actually, I don’t know anything,” I said. When he just looked at me like if he stared hard enough my head would catch on fire, I threw up my hands defensively. “I swear,” I said. “I have a solid guess what that is, although trust me, I’m really hoping I’m wrong. But judging from the stink eye you’re giving me, I’m guessing I’m out of luck.”

  Elliot snorted. “Luck. Like you’ve ever needed luck. You put my name on here just to spite me, don’t lie.”

  “I didn’t,” I said defensively. “Well, I haven’t yet. I can’t really control what my future self does, now can I?”

  Elliot visibly twitched at the word future, glancing around nervously before turning to stare daggers at me again.

  “Watch your mouth,” he said. “This place is probably monitored from ten different angles.”

  I shook my head. “It’s not,” I said. “This entire section lost power today. It won’t be fixed until next week sometime. No one is watching us.”

  He raised an eyebrow at me. “That’s sure convenient.”

  “Perk of being the commander’s kid.” I shrugged. “I find out about exciting stuff like electrical shortages. Besides, if it hadn’t been out, I could have ensured those security monitors were accidentally turned off.” I put the word accidentally in air quotes, but Elliot didn’t seem the least bit impressed. If anything, I’d somehow just made him angrier.

  “One of the many perks of being you,” Elliot muttered, picking at the bark of the tree he was leaning against.

  “If you have something to say, you need to speak a little clearer,” I snapped.

  He stopped picking at the tree and crossed his arms over his chest. “How can I trust you?”

  “Do you have a choice?” I said. “Whatever this letter is—and I think you and I both know—we are going to have to deal with it together.” That was a complete bluff, but Elliot was too twitchy to notice. I had no idea if we were in this together, but I needed him to believe that if I went down, he went down too. It was pure self-preservation.

  “Let’s get this over with,” he said. I nodded, although I was equal parts terrified and intrigued to see the piece of paper that had kept Elliot from turning me in to the authorities. He reached down and pulled it from inside his shoe and smoothed it out in his hand. Together we walked over to the fountain’s edge, where a large spotlight illuminated the slightly tacky sculptures. Elliot spread the letter out and looked at me expectantly. Taking a deep breath, I carefully leaned in to read the piece of paper that would forever change the course of my life.

  I read it, and then I immediately went back to the top to read it again despite the fact that Elliot was staring daggers at the side of my head as though that would help me process it all faster. I ignored him as I let the words sink in. Lives were at stake. Elliot couldn’t level up tomorrow, and we were apparently going to have to work together. My future self must be delusional, I thought, shaking my head. Even though I’d grown up in a world where time traveling was completely normal, I still couldn’t quite wrap my head around this. Maybe it was because my future self had written it, or maybe it was because my future self clearly wanted to change something about the future. The thing that I’d been training not to do for my entire life. But there it was, all laid out in my own handwriting.

  “You just had to put my name in it,” Elliot said practically in my ear, and I jumped.

  “Don’t forget, it was my name written on the envelope,” I said, sitting back. “I’m just as sunk as you are if this thing gets found out.”

  “Oh yeah,” Elliot said. “I kind of forgot about that.” Then he shook his head and narrowed his eyes. “You could end my entire career with this letter. You do realize that, right? Everything I’ve worked for.”

  “Your career?” I repeated in surprise. “Your career? Are you serious right now? There is obviously so much more at stake than your career.” When Elliot just stared back at me, I threw my hands up in exasperation. Leave it to Elliot Mason to make this all about him. “This is obviously important, or didn’t you catch the part where I said that lives depend on us?”

  “My future career is my life,” he said.

  I groaned in exasperation. He was not getting this. “If this gets found out,” I said, talking slowly and clearly like he was still three-year-old Elliot who didn’t understand that sticking Play-Doh up his nose was a bad idea, “my mom will lose everything, and I mean everything. You and I will be put on trial and convicted. It will be the end of our freedom.”

  “My freedom,” he said. “They won’t put the commander’s daughter on trial.”

  I snorted, the noise too loud in the quiet night. “You can’t seriously believe that,” I said.

  “I’ll believe that when I see it,” he said.

  “Well, let’s hope you never believe it, then,” I said, “because I’d rather not go on trial if it’s all the same to you. So chill for a second, will you? I need to think.” I put my head in my hands and squeezed my eyes shut.

  “Think about what?” he asked. “About what the inside of the Academy jail looks like? Because we know that one already. Remember our field trip three years ago?”

  “I do,” I snapped back. “You thought it would be funny to shove me into one of the empty cells and lock the door.”

  “I didn’t think that was funny,” he said. “That was funny, and even though I wasn’t the one locked inside that cell crying my eyes out for the five whole minutes it took the guard to get it unlocked, I know I don’t want to spend the rest of my life in there.”

  I looked back at him, eyebrow raised. “You don’t do chill very well, do you, Mason?”

  Elliot bristled at me. “Some of us don’t have that luxury, Fitz. And, for the record, you’re right. I have exactly zero chill. Not when it comes to this,” he said, pointing at the letter.

  “I half expected you to march in here with security officers,” I admitted. “I might have if the situation was reversed.”

  “Don’t think I didn’t think about it,” he said.

  “Well,” I said. “Thanks, I guess.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said. “I guess.”

  We stood there for a second, not saying anything as the noises of the night pressed in around us. I’d thought that seeing the letter would make things perfectly clear for me. That I’d know what to do once I had the full picture and could talk to Elliot. But in reality, nothing had changed.

  “Don’t you think that it’s pretty convenient that it says I’m not supposed to level up tomorrow?” Elliot said, tapping the letter. “How do I know this isn’t just future Regan messing with me?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “You’re right. I’m sure future me risked life, limb, and prison to mess with you so you wouldn’t take a stupid simulation test.”

  Elliot stared at me a second and then sagged. “Okay, so maybe that’s a bit extreme. But you have to agree that this letter is ridiculously vague. I mean, if we are going to risk everything, shouldn’t we know what we are risking it for?”

  I shrugged. “You’re right,” I said. “This letter is missing so much key information it isn’t even funny. I have no idea what my future self was thinking
writing it. If it was possible to give her a swift kick in the shins, I would. Trust me.”

  “Can I volunteer for that job?” he asked, and for the first time his voice didn’t have that angry edge to it. “And you didn’t just write it. You managed to deliver it to the past. To us. Which means that in the future, you’re already a criminal.”

  “In a weird way, that actually makes me feel better,” I said. “Like, the future version of myself isn’t asking me to do something she hasn’t already done?”

  “Weird is like the biggest understatement of all time,” he said, shoving his hands into his hair. We sat there another moment, both of us wrestling with the baffling implications of receiving a Cocoon. And not just a Cocoon, but one that made it clear that Elliot and I were supposed to prevent something bad from happening. I thought of all the people in my life that I cared about. Mom, of course, and then Mrs. Ellsworth, who had taken care of me just as much if not more than my own mother for the better part of my life. Professor Brown and Professor Green, along with a handful of other people on the faculty who had taken a special interest in me, and then the list kind of sputtered to a stop. Friends weren’t very easy to make at the Academy, where the structure of the curriculum pitted us against one another practically from kindergarten. I’d had an exceptionally hard time of it. Between all the extra tutoring and study sessions I’d been receiving since practically day one, and the fact that I was the commander in chief’s daughter, well, there wasn’t a whole lot of time for that. I didn’t live in the dorms with everyone else, and the only meal I ate in the dining hall was lunch, and I usually used that time to cram for a class. There were other kids in my cadet class who I talked to, but would I consider any of them friends? Probably not. If I was honest with myself, though, something I tried to be, I knew that wasn’t what I wanted. I’d have loved friends, or even just one. Someone I could tell something like this to, someone I knew would have my back no matter what.