My mouth drops. “She killed your parents so you would focus on your experiments?”
He nods once. But once is all it takes. One “accident” is all it takes to shape a child. One command is all it takes to extinguish two lives. One leader is all it takes to chart a world’s course into madness.
“That’s what I meant when I said that science was all I ever knew.” He rubs the back of his neck. “At first, I fixated on my projects out of fear. My parents were the only ones who loved me, but they weren’t the only people in my life. Olivia was my playmate, even though she never admitted to liking me. And there was MK, who watched us both. They weren’t family, but I didn’t want to see them hurt.
“After a while, my obsession became habit. I started believing what they told me—that I would become the greatest scientist of our time. I wanted that. For myself, but also for my parents.” A muscle twitches in his cheek. “I thought that if I accomplished everything the chairwoman wanted from me, if I became the Father of Future Memory, not just in name but also in fact…then maybe I could redeem myself for my parents’ deaths. Maybe I could make sense out of the senseless.”
“Oh, Tanner.” The lump in my throat grows so big it might choke me. “Your parents’ deaths weren’t your fault. It was the fault of a madwoman who will do anything to get what she wants.”
“I know that here.” He points to his temple. “But it’s much harder to convince myself here.” He spreads his hand over his bare chest.
Don’t I know it. That same guilt pushes me to do the same thing. Something so big and important that it will redeem myself, once and for all.
For Tanner, it was the invention of future memory. For me…I don’t know yet. Saving my sister will bring me close, but it won’t get me all the way there. Whatever the answer is, I have a feeling it’s rooted here. In the past.
“Your younger self,” I say. “The six-year-old Tanner. He’s there now, isn’t he? In the TechRA building. That’s where he lives, right?”
He blinks, as if the fact just occurred to him. “I suppose so. Just like your younger self is there now.”
“Are you going to try to see him tomorrow?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t see what good can come of it.”
I agree. I’m not even sure why I asked, other than the fact that it seems strange that our younger selves will be somewhere in the building. Completely vulnerable to the future that lies ahead of them. I want to grab both kids, wrap them in my arms, and keep them safe. But that’s never been an option.
“Come on.” I stand. The afghan slips over my shoulder, but my nudity no longer seems relevant. Even when Tanner’s gaze flickers down, for the briefest moment, to my bare breasts. “Let’s go find some clothes before my mom comes home.”
45
Five minutes later, I’m wearing one of Callie’s school uniforms, a lightweight silver jumpsuit that zips up the front. Tanner instructed me to be quick—and I’m glad. Otherwise, I might’ve been tempted to sit on Callie’s bed and imagine the last time she slept there. To play some of her holo-vids, which no doubt feature manual chefs separating eggs or whipping up soufflés. To shove my hands underneath the mattress to see if anything’s hidden there.
That last thing I actually do. And I’m not sorry because I find something. I carry the object back to the living area, where Tanner’s waiting.
“What do you have?” he asks as I come into the room. He has on a pair of my dad’s old scrubs—pale blue, soft cotton, with multiple pockets for scientific instruments.
My heart lurches. Just a tiny bit. Tanner would be the first to tell you he looks good in everything. In this instance, he’s actually right. With the contrast of the pale fabric against his tanned skin and the way the shirt settles on his shoulders, he looks adorable.
“I found a book of poems.” I lay it gingerly on the table. It’s a real book, a physical book, with a cracked binding and tissue-thin pages. Even at this time, real books were rare; in my present, they’re damn near nonexistent.
Opening the book, I find a brilliant red leaf, dried and crumbling, pressed between the pages.
I suck in a breath. I’ve seen leaves like this in only one other place. Logan’s house. Because he doesn’t have an ample supply of books, he presses them under other objects. A wooden fruit bowl, a fluffy bath rug, warrior statues made out of bolts and washers. I used to make a game out of finding his stash of leaves. But not once has he ever explained what the leaves were for. Or whom they were supposed to represent.
All of a sudden, a memory flashes across my mind. I am crouching in the dirt with Logan, rolling leaves into roses. It was Callie’s Memory’s Eve. The day before she disappeared from our lives. The day before everything changed.
Reverently, I trace my finger along the veins. “I think this leaf has something to do with Logan and Callie’s relationship.”
“You should put it back,” Tanner says, a muscle throbbing in his forehead. “That book has nothing to do with our mission. Remember what Preston said about altering the past?”
“It’s just a book,” I protest. “What could it hurt if I look at it?”
“Put it back. The flap of a butterfly’s wing may cause a hurricane on the other side of the world. We can’t know.”
He’s right. I’d forgotten, but I won’t let it slip my mind again. Closing the book, I hurry back to Callie’s sleeping area and slide the book under the mattress, where it belongs.
When I return to the living area, Tanner raises an eyebrow. “Did you place the book at the same angle as how you found it? Did you make sure the entire leaf was tucked safely inside?”
“I don’t know.” I bite my lip. Now that I think of it, I’m pretty sure a corner of the leaf was sticking out of the book. “But what difference can it make? Preston said only the big events, with far-reaching ripples, would have an effect on our present world.”
“I’m sure you’re right. But maybe you’d better fix it, just in case.”
“Fine. I’ll go back and—”
The front door rattles. Tanner and I freeze. How can it be time already? By Preston’s calculation, we should’ve had an hour before my mom returned from the Russells’ living unit, where she welcomed Callie and Logan back to civilization and watched them eat spaghetti squash.
An hour couldn’t have passed already. It couldn’t.
And yet, the door opens, and my mother walks into the room—at least, my mother as she was ten years earlier, ridiculously young and just as lovely.
“Callie! How in space did you get here before me?” She crosses to me, smelling like vanilla. She doesn’t smell like this anymore. I can’t remember the last time she smelled like this. “Weren’t you supposed to sleep over at the Russells’? You should be in bed. Big day tomorrow. And did you cut your hair?”
She picks up a strand of my hair—and I see the moment that it hits her. This is not her daughter Callie but somebody else.
Her eyes widen, and she takes a careful step back. “You’re not Callie.”
“No, I’m not.” I take a deep breath. “I’m your other daughter. Jessa.”
“Impossible. Jessa’s six years old. She’s been taken away by FuMA, and Callie’s going to rescue her tomorrow…” She lifts my chin, and my features hit the light. “Dear Fates, you look just like her.”
“We’re twins, you know. Eleven years removed. But now that I’ve traveled from ten years in the future, we’re practically the same age.”
Her jaw drops. “Time travel? You can’t mean…” Again, her words die. Because she knows better than most that time travel exists and nothing is impossible. “Jessa?” she whispers, her voice hoarse with wonder and fervent, desperate hope. “Is it really you? From the future?”