Looking back, I study the glass for a moment. It’s thicker than a normal pane, and through it spiders a mesh of wires. I have a feeling even if I had crashed into it, though the glass might have cracked, I wouldn’t have broken through it.
“Where are we?” I ask.
“Do you like it?” She looks around and then back at me. “I didn’t know if I’d ever get the chance to use it.”
“Where are we?”
“Just outside of Los Angeles in an area I think you know as the Shallows.”
The Shallows? My original home.
“I thought it would be fun putting this someplace you were familiar with. I contemplated having a window to the outside installed, too, but there’s really not that much to see. Just trees and bushes. Hardly anyone lives out here yet.”
“You built this place?”
“I had plenty of time to make my plans and prepare for any contingencies. I had this place built especially for you. Just in case. The walls are a foot thick. Concrete slab ceiling. And this glass?” She walks up and raps on the window in front of my face. “One of the strongest they make in this era. You might be able to get through it, but it’ll take you a long time.”
“Let me out.”
“What are you talking about, Denny? No one’s keeping you there. All you have to do is unslave your chaser and you can jump anywhere you want.”
I would like nothing more than to jump into her room, grab her chaser, and get out of there. Unfortunately, I know full well that the moment I unslave my device, she’ll activate her own jump, and leave before I can get to her. If that happens and for some reason I’m not immediately erased, I’ll never be able to find her. She could be anywhere in time. My only option is to keep my box connected to hers and hope that she makes a mistake.
“No?” She laughs after several seconds. “You’re a coward. Your kind always are.”
She turns away from me, walks back to the table, and lifts the mound I noticed earlier. As she returns to the glass, I see that it’s a simple-looking rucksack that, like my satchel that hangs across her torso, could fit into most eras without drawing attention.
“Like it?” she asks. “My bag of presents. If the institute was still around, boy would I get in trouble for traveling with this. But they’re not an issue anymore, thanks to you.” She snickers as she pulls my satchel off and puts it inside the rucksack. She then dons the larger bag. “I haven’t properly thanked you for helping Vincent come back to me.”
“Don’t bother.”
“No, really. Thank you. Without your assistance, I would have had to go through childbirth and raising a baby and… ugh. Not something I’m interested in.” We stare at each other for a few moments before she says, “Well, I guess we should get things started. I would hold on to your chaser if I were you. We’ll be going soon. I just need to put a little distance between us.”
“Where are we going?”
“Thought we’d start off small.” She walks toward the back of her room.
“What are you planning, Lidia?”
“I told you already. I’m going to destroy everything you have known.”
If she really wants to get to me, there’s an obvious way. “It’s Iffy, isn’t it? What are you going to do? Erase her whole family?”
Lidia reaches the door, but instead of opening it, she looks back at me, shaking her head. “Denny, Denny, Denny. Do you really think I’m that petty?” She motions to the room around her. “That I’d build all this only to change the fate of one insignificant girl? If that were my intention, it certainly wouldn’t have taken three years to plan. I could have figured that out in an afternoon. Perhaps that might have broken your heart, but that’s not enough for me. I want to rip it to shreds.” She pauses. “When I was daydreaming about how I could get back at you, I thought about those months we were in training at the institute, and I remembered how you spent most of your free time in the library, studying, and how you always got the top score on the tests. And I realized the way to crush you is to destroy your greatest passion. It’s not some girl you met in a bastardized time line.” The side of her mouth ticks up in a half smile. “It’s history, Denny. Your love for it was why the institute stooped so low to pull you out of your caste.”
She opens the door, letting in a stream of bright sunlight, and hesitates on the threshold for a moment before looking back at me again. “I’m glad you’re coming along to witness the bloody mess I create. But make no mistake. Everything that happens from this point forward is your doing.”
She steps outside and the door closes behind her.
“Lidia!” I yell. “Lidia!”
But she’s gone, and I fear that I will never set eyes on her again.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
My guess is that along with building this doorless containment cell, Lidia has stashed a car somewhere nearby. By the time we jump again, I figure she could be as many as twenty or twenty-five miles from me.
The jump is so short that once more the gray never forms. The cement floor that had been under my feet is replaced by sloped ground covered with dry grass. Instantly I start to slide downward, and am able to stop my descent only by falling against the hillside and grabbing a rock.
This action nearly causes me to lose my hold on my chaser. I quickly readjust my grip, and know one of my top priorities is finding something secure to carry it in. After a look around, though, I realize I won’t be able to accomplish that where I am.
The hillside is steep. Below me another forty feet, it becomes nearly vertical. From where I’ve stopped, I can’t see how far the cliff drops, but I’m sure it’s long enough for me to have broken more than just a few bones if I’d gone over.
Above me the terrain continues at the same angle for another 150 feet. Climbable, perhaps, but one missed step and down I’d go. My best bet is to stay where I am until Lidia decides it’s time to travel again.
There is some consolation, though. At least my vantage point overlooks the ocean. Given that the coastline looks very much like that just north of Los Angeles and that the sun appears to be moving in a downward arc leading toward the water, I feel it’s safe to assume that I’m looking at the Pacific. I could access the chaser’s location map to check, but with my precarious position, there’s no sense in taking a chance.
To make myself a bit more comfortable, I clear away some grass and start to level a small portion of ground to use as a seat. Naturally, before I can finish, we jump again.
This trip seems even shorter than the last, and I find myself on the exact same hill, just about a hundred yards to the left of my previous position, and thankfully, in an area with a much gentler slope.
I take a seat on the grass and check the date. It’s May 29, 1952, and the time is 8:47 a.m. Now that I’m able to check the map without worrying I might drop the device, I confirm that my hunch was correct. I’m in the coastal mountains about a dozen miles west northwest of Santa Monica.
Ten minutes pass, then twenty, and then thirty. It’s growing warm, and I wish that there were some shade nearby.
In my caste Eight childhood, waiting seemed to be part of every day — waiting for the doctor to see if he had time for us, for the grocer to put out his inferior goods, for the teacher to finally dismiss us for the day.
For my father to talk to me.
Always waiting for someone else, just like I’m doing now.
I spend three hours weaving between concern over what Lidia might be doing and thoughts about how I might trap her. For each scheme, I plan out every step, and try to ignore the glaring problems they all have. But finally I must face it. I can do nothing if I’m not close to her. I need to find a way to trick her into coming to me.