“Then I’m not funding you.” My voice cracks and wavers. I can’t lose it. Although, what’s the point? The real Kershul Group representative is going to show up next week and probably provide the funding anyway.
Ariel sticks out his hand. “Sorry to hear it. It would have been a good fit for your interests. I’ll start looking elsewhere.”
I hesitate before taking Ariel’s hand in my own. My heart puddles onto the floor. Is this the last time I’m going to have physical contact with another human being? I blink back tears. I have to get out of here. I have to go now.
I turn on my heel and race toward the door, then down the stairs and onto campus, and I don’t stop until I’ve reached Massachusetts Avenue. I drop onto a bench. This can’t be happening. I can’t believe this is happening. I’ve failed.
Good-bye, Abe. I hope you know how much I love you. Be happy. Good-bye, Mom. I’m so sorry your life turned out the way it did and that I wasn’t there for you. I hope you find the help you need someday. I’m never going to see either of you again. I’m done.
Except that I’m not. The thought flies into my brain and yanks my breath away.
Ariel hasn’t finished the prototype. The machine doesn’t have the genetic link yet. And I have a gun strapped to my ankle. I could take care of this now and go back a free woman.
But I can’t do that. I won’t do that.
Or will I?
I don’t leave the bench. An hour ticks by, which means I’ve lost three more hours in the present. Maybe I’ll just stay here forever. Except that they’ll track me. They’ll win.
My watch clicks to noon, and campus bustles with lunchtime activity. Students and professors dart this way and that, but I see Ariel straight ahead. He waits for traffic to die down, then jogs across Mass Ave.
I spring up off the bench and follow him. His house is only a few blocks from campus. I know it well. I hang back half a block and follow him to the wooden-shingled Cape-style home stuck plumb in the middle of the block. There’s a long, flat, baby-blue Chrysler out front; but apart from that, the house looks exactly the same. Same white eyelet curtains in the windows. Same wrought iron bench on the stoop. I can’t see that well from where I am, but I bet you anything there’s a twisted metal S nailed above the doorbell and a mezuzah on the frame. I stop walking and watch Ariel enter the house.
The gun on my ankle feels so heavy.
I park myself on the stoop across the street and sit, staring at the house. The light in the living room is off. I wonder if Ariel is in the kitchen, which is next to the living room. Maybe he’s pulling leftovers out of the fridge and sitting at the kitchen table eating his lunch. The house doesn’t have a formal dining room, just a little space right off the kitchen. It’s tiny, but somehow we always managed to squeeze eight or even ten people around the table at holidays. I was there a couple months ago when Abe invited me to celebrate Rosh Hashanah with his family.
Ariel wanders into the living room and opens the window. I don’t try to duck, don’t try to hide. My hand travels down to my ankle, and I unhook the gun from its holster. I raise it, just to see if he’s in my line of fire. He is.
I wonder if past-Ariel knows how lucky he’s about to become. He’s going to get married and have a son, then his son is going to get married and have a boy of his own, a boy who’s going to have his grandfather’s physics genius and his father’s athleticism. I wonder if past-Ariel has any idea he’s going to fall in love with his research assistant and marry her. I wonder if past-Ariel can possibly know the pain and sadness her death is going to cause him. I wonder if he’ll know that his grandson’s girlfriend will stare longingly at the picture of Mona hanging at the top of the stairs and hope and pray that her boyfriend loves her even a tenth as much as Ariel loved Mona.
I want to run across the street. I want to bang on the door and beg Ariel to let me in. I want to wander the house I’ve become so familiar with, calling out for Abe. I want to find him sitting on the old yellow plaid couch in the basement, playing video games on an ancient, thirteen-inch TV because Ariel refuses to have a set in the living room. I want to cuddle next to Abe and sink my head into that warm crook in his neck. I want Abe to set down the video game controller and kiss me. Kiss me everywhere. Not to stop kissing me until we hear the creak of the old, rotted stairs and look up to see Ariel holding a laundry basket and hiding a smile.
I drop the gun on the step. Even if I can’t ever be with Abe again, even if I can’t ever see Abe again, I’ll never do this. Abe deserves a chance to live. A chance to be happy. A chance to have a family. I can’t take that away. I won’t.
I pick up the gun and toss it into a trash can on the sidewalk.
I’ve failed. My life is done.
So be it.
CHAPTER 17
It’s seven at night when I land back in the present day. I step out of the gravity chamber, expecting to find at least two men in suits waiting, a pair of metal handcuffs dangling from one of their fists. I expect Alpha to hang back, mostly as an observer but also as backup if necessary. He’s a company man through and through, after all. I wonder if any of my teammates will be there to bear witness or if they’re going about their business, as usual.
But no one’s there waiting for me. Not my teammates, not Alpha, not any government suits. Maybe they’re upstairs.
If I’m going to do this—turn myself in—I need to do it now, before I lose my resolve. I trudge up the stairs with my head held high. I should be proud of myself. I did the right thing. I refused to take a life just for my own gain.
But really, all I feel is fear. Overwhelming, swallowing fear.
The living room is empty. So is the dining room. And the library. I glance at the clock to make sure it’s really seven p.m. People are always loitering about this time of night. Dinner even runs long sometimes.
I head down the long hallway off the staircase. Alpha’s office is right there on the left. I reach up my hand and lightly rap my knuckles as I turn the handle. But the door is locked. The handle doesn’t budge.
Where is everyone? Did I come back on the right day? If not, they’ll find me, that much is certain.
I stare at Alpha’s locked door. I wonder if his computer is on behind that door. It’s been on and logged in every time I’ve been in that office. Why not now? If I could only use Alpha’s clearance, I could find out what happened to my dad once and for all. It wouldn’t torment me for the rest of my life. I look at the metal keypad staring at me from above the handle.
940211.
That’s the combination Alpha used before. It jumps right back into my mind. Texas area code, Vermont community service number.
What the hell? What are they going to do if they catch me, tack ten more years onto my life sentence? I type in 940211, and the door clicks unlocked. I glance behind me, then quietly slip through the doorway and shut the door as softly as I can.
I sit down at Alpha’s desk and swivel around to face the computer. I flick the mouse around on the pad, but the screen stays dark. It’s off. I power it up, then lean back in the chair. I don’t know what I think I’m going to accomplish here. Watching him type in the door combination was one thing, but I wouldn’t even know where to start with Alpha’s computer password.
This doesn’t feel real. My thoughts are clouded. This is a dream. Or a movie. And I can’t even begin to imagine how it ends.
Except . . . I do know the ending.
I should go. Find Alpha. Try pleading.
But then I notice that the top file cabinet drawer is slightly ajar. I slide it out and stare down at a number of plain, unassuming files. They’re alphabetized, and each one has a different name typed on the tab.