She had work to do.
Adeline exited her bedroom onto the landing and listened. It was quiet downstairs.
She crept down the hardwood steps, into the stair hall. In the foyer, she eyed the closed door that led to the basement.
Basement homes were rare in this part of Nevada. They were hard to dig because of the caliche, a sedimentary rock-like material that was prevalent in the area. But all it took to break the rock was money, and Daniele Danneros had that kind of money. And thus, a full basement.
Adeline wondered what was being said down there.
She walked away from the basement door, down the hall to the kitchen, where the four phones sat on the island. She tapped each one to awaken the lock-screen image, and quickly found Hiro’s (it had a picture of his niece and nephew hugging at Disneyland).
Adeline plugged the small device into the port at the bottom of the phone and watched the stair hall for any movement, occasionally glancing down at the red light.
When the light on the device turned green, she disconnected it from Hiro’s phone and crept softly through the stair hall, still careful to avoid making footfalls that would be heard in the basement.
In the foyer, she stared at the closed door to the basement.
She should go back upstairs.
But she couldn’t.
Adeline padded forward on her bare feet, slowly, and held her ear to the door.
It was quiet.
She turned the door handle, pulled it open, and waited.
She couldn’t hear a thing.
She stepped out onto the first stair and listened, but the voices below were too faint to hear.
Holding her breath, she descended the stairs more slowly until she reached the landing, where it switched back. She couldn’t see the four Absolom scientists, but she could just make out their conversation.
Hiro was talking, his voice muffled. “Technically, it’s possible, but impractical.”
“Why?” Elliott asked.
“There’s no way to transport that much matter back without someone knowing—the power required would give us away.”
Elliott again: “But you can miniaturize it.”
“Yes, but not enough.”
“Then we’re stuck,” Elliott said. He sounded impatient now.
“I can break it into pieces,” Hiro said. “That’s the only real solution.”
Constance spoke next, voice soft. Adeline had to lean forward to hear her.
“If the pieces are small, Sam might not even find them.”
“We have to assume he will,” Elliott said.
“I still wish we had told him,” Constance said. “He doesn’t even know what to look for—or that he’s supposed to be looking for something.”
Elliott sounded frustrated. Or annoyed. “We’ve been over this. If they knew, we’d be shut down. He’s gone. It’s done.”
“Yes, but the point remains,” Constance said, her voice rising, quivering now. “How long will it take him to find the pieces? Months? Years? He may not last a week in the Triassic.”
“There’s nothing we can do about that,” Hiro said.
“But that’s my point,” Constance said. “We have to help him find it. Because if he doesn’t find it, we may as well write him off.”
The silence that followed felt awkward, even to Adeline, who couldn’t see their faces from the stairwell.
Daniele spoke next. She sounded closer than the others.
“Let’s go back to the experiments. They’re clearly the key to getting Sam back safely.”
“All right,” Constance said, some of the strength back in her voice. “How do we begin? Should we start digging in Death Valley to see if the items are there?”
Daniele spoke again, sounding even closer. She was moving. “We’ve been over this. It doesn’t work that way.”
“Why?” Constance asked.
Adeline wondered if her sickness somehow affected her memory.
“The order is wrong,” Elliott said. “Remember? We need to plan the experiments first—because of causality.”
“I have an idea,” Daniele said. “About how we can send something to Sam in a way that he could find it.”
She was dangerously close now.
Adeline froze as Daniele stepped into view at the bottom of the stairwell. The older woman looked up at her and stared. Slowly, she tilted her head, silently telling her get out of here. Adeline’s heart thundered in her chest. She wondered if the others had caught on to the signal.
Footsteps echoed on the basement’s concrete floor.
Someone was coming over to Daniele.
Elliott spoke next. He was closer now. Moving. “What do you mean, Dani?”
Adeline turned on the landing and ascended the stairs, terrified that one of the wooden risers would creak, announcing her presence. But they didn’t. They were well made, and she thought that just might have saved her life.
She closed the door and let out the breath she had been holding. A few seconds later, she was back in her bedroom, exhaling heavily.
*
From her bedroom window, Adeline watched the three scientists depart. Her door opened a moment later, and Daniele stared at her.
“That was dangerous. And foolish.”
“What are you looking for in Death Valley?”
“Did you update Hiro’s phone?”
“I asked you a question.”
“Did you?”
“Yes,” Adeline muttered. “Now tell me—”
Daniele turned and gripped the door handle and pulled it open.
Adeline rose, rushed to it, and slammed the door shut. “Hey. I asked you a question.”
Daniele smiled. That surprised Adeline.
“Good for you. You need that for what’s coming.”
“Need what?”
“Nerve. Now give me your phone.”
Adeline handed it to her.
Daniele searched for an app, tapped install, and handed the phone back to Adeline for facial recognition to authorize the update. When it had finished loading, Adeline studied the new app. It was called BuddyLoc, and it showed a single glowing dot four blocks away in Absolom City.
“That’s Hiro,” Adeline whispered.
“Yes.”
“Why are you giving me access?”
“Guess.”
“Because you might not be able to follow him. If… something happens to you.”
“That’s right.”
“But you won’t let me see the photos and video from Constance’s house?”
“Not yet.”
“What’s buried in Death Valley?”
“The past. And the future.”
TWENTY-FIVE
The storm gathered strength as Sam lost his. The rain pelted him, and he drank from it, knowing it could stop at any moment.
Each time he rolled off of his back to resume swimming, it was a little harder. He was a little weaker, his limbs heavier.
Somewhere in the night, the rain stopped, and the storm clouds rolled away. Their departure calmed the sea. The silence that followed was serene. The rocking of the waves and sheer exhaustion conspired to lull Sam to sleep, but he fought to stay awake. He had to swim while he could. His belly was full of water now, and tomorrow the sun would sap his strength and burn his skin even more, until the blisters popped and blood flowed, and the predators came and ripped him to pieces, the sea swallowing him forever.
He refused to let that be his fate. He had to swim.
He had to reach the shore.
There would be a high tide tonight. Sam sensed that it was his best chance of making landfall. He was about to turn over when he heard a splash. He stopped, lay still, and watched a giant beast punch through the surface of the sea. It was bony and textured, with large plates that were almost like metal scales. Its head never cleared the water line to breathe, and there was no blowhole.
It wasn’t a mammal. It hadn’t surfaced to breathe. Had it come for him?
Another scaly spine broke through the water. It was smaller. A child, perhaps.
Sam swallowed and watched, not daring to move his arms or legs. He floated, watching the creatures, wondering if they could smell him or sense him. The sea was their arena. He was virtually powerless here.