Timestorm: A Tempest Novel (The Tempest Trilogy) Read online

  He held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, fine!”

  After Mason stomped off, I moved closer to the lake, picked up a few rocks from the grass, and started tossing them in, trying to skip them across the water and blow off steam at the same time. Mason knew what was going to happen to Courtney. He knew everything about my family, so what was he thinking? And he’s seventeen, she’s fourteen. I could see it in his eyes, just then, he liked her. In that way that I remembered all too well from being Mason’s age. It led to kissing and removing bras and—

  I shuddered, forcing the mental picture from my brain.

  I wasn’t alone for long before I heard Holly’s and Emily’s voices coming from the grass behind me. They were all the way over by the tree stump with the T-shirt still pinned to it and didn’t appear to be coming closer anytime soon. At least I had smoothed things over with Emily. Holly and Courtney still hated me, but one out of three was better than zero out of three.

  It had just occurred to me that in my idiotic grief, I had left Holly and Blake alone in the reproduction room. Good thing Blake didn’t have access to wine.

  Being jealous of the two of them left me completely demoralized by my moral decision to let Holly choose her own path. What if that path was Blake? What if we were stuck here forever until we got really old and died of natural causes? Did I want to keep this secret from Holly for that long—to never attempt to make her love me again? I didn’t know if it would even be possible, but I did have a record of two out of three with getting the different versions of Holly to do exactly that. This one would be the most difficult, though.

  I put a lot more force behind the next rock I threw into the lake as disgust filled me completely. How could I look at being in love that way? Even in my head, using information from 009 Holly and 007 Holly to lure Agent Holly in felt like a total sleazeball thing to do. Plotting to make a move on her, to trick her into loving me—it diminished everything I thought our relationship stood for. It played out in my mind like just another mission. A task full of lies and deception, the polar opposite of true love.

  And Holly deserved true love.

  It was wrong to avoid her because of our past, and it was wrong to pursue her for that same reason. I needed to start looking at Holly as the girl right behind me, the one I first saw in the NYU bookstore in June of 2009.

  “How do you do that?” Emily said. “Show me again!”

  From the corner of my eye, Holly came into sight, her blond hair flying around her as she flipped backwards in the grass, landing perfectly on her feet.

  I sighed to myself. This no-jealousy thing wouldn’t be easy. Like so many other things in life, it was going to take time. And practice. And unfortunately, a few more screwups, knowing me.

  “Like your little computer brain can’t figure this out perfectly.” Holly rubbed the top of Emily’s head. “It’s all about strength-to-weight ratio and physics.”

  “And fear,” Emily said. “Or lack of fear, in your case.”

  Holly flashed her a wicked smile. “That’s always been my greatest weakness.”

  I reached down to pick up more rocks as Holly did a series of three handsprings, landing dangerously close to my feet.

  Don’t be angry. Don’t be in love. Don’t be anything. “Staying in shape just in case?”

  She shrugged. “Just messing around, I guess. You know, lack of television and Internet.”

  “And CIA missions,” I added.

  “That, too,” she said. “What else is there to do?”

  “Besides listening to Blake’s awkward makeout stories?”

  She laughed. “God, that was so freakin’ weird.”

  I kicked at a rock with my shoe and kept my eyes on the grass. “So … I was wondering if maybe, since you don’t seem pissed off at me right now, we could start over. Like I’m Jackson and you’re Holly and … and that’s it.”

  The amusement dropped from her face. “I can’t do that.”

  “Why not? Why is it so important for you to know everything?”

  She shook her head and let out a breath. “What else do I have control over now? Nothing. All I have … all we have to hold on to is what we know. I don’t plan on forgetting anything anytime soon.”

  So much for new beginnings. I plopped down in the grass next to Emily and she mouthed sorry to me while Holly’s back was turned. I nudged her shoulder with mine and smiled. “Are you gonna do some backflipping too?”

  She shook her head fiercely. “No way. I’m not fearless enough.”

  “I think you’re pretty fearless, Emily, maybe just a different kind.”

  “You, too,” she said.

  “We’re finishing our project tomorrow morning,” Holly said, giving me a knowing look.

  Hopefully the rest of Blake’s memory files would be more PG and less likely to cause Holly to go off on me again.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  DAY 12. BEFORE DAWN

  Blake and I were now sharing a cabin and I woke up to the sound of the shower running in the less-than-luxurious bathroom. I sifted through a large pile of clothes and found some black gym shorts, boxers, and a T-shirt that were fairly close to my size.

  Blake gave me a real razor blade to shave with, and I was relieved that the severity of the shaking in my hands seemed to have lessened since yesterday. Grayson had told me last night that it would get better with time.

  Blake had shaving down to a science, but it took me a little longer with this method. I was also not fond of the future toothpaste. It came in a tiny jar and was basically a clear gel that you spread onto the toothbrush. It was like eating five Altoids at once.

  We found Holly in the supply-and-technology building before the sun had come up all the way. She was digging for breakfast. Blake opened a cardboard box and handed each of us what looked like a granola bar but tasted a lot like a PowerBar, only worse.

  “Why is it you’re keeping this information from everyone else?” I asked Blake when we had closed and locked the door on the reproduction room.

  “Grayson knows most of it. And the others know their own version, which is probably similar,” he said between bites of the nutrition bar. “And we’re only keeping it a secret until we can actually form a plan that sounds remotely possible.”

  “What kind of plan? An escape?” Holly asked. “I thought you were just trying to prove to me that Eyewall is bad or something?”

  “There’s no escape,” Blake said. “But there might be something worth fighting for if they move in again. If they come to pay us a visit.”

  “Are they going to do that?” I asked.

  “It’s happened before,” Blake said. “But not often.”

  Holly and I looked at each other, noting in a wordless exchange that we were the ones who probably should be ready for a physical encounter with the enemy. I wasn’t sure Grayson, Lonnie, or Sasha had any kind of experience with weapons or hand-to-hand combat. And I already knew that Blake didn’t. Neither did Emily or Courtney.

  Holly had brought a second chair today and she scooted it closer to mine so we could lean in and read the screen. “Later you can test out your hands again,” she whispered. “See if they’ve gotten steadier.”

  “They have a little. But yeah, I’d like to regain my ability to use a gun.”

  Blake started up the recording again, and I followed the words moving across the computer screen.

  SEPTEMBER 30, 2874.

  AUDIO RECORDED BY HOST AND MEMORY EXTRACTED FROM HOST.

  I’ll be honest and admit right here that I’ve been spending all my free jumps with Grayson in 1987, which is where I’m headed today. I always land after the date of my last jump to that year because then I don’t have to retell him whatever we talked about during the previous visit. A couple of times I missed my mark and went back to my present, then had to wait a few hours before trying again. Since free jumps are for research and education, here are a few details I’ve acquired from my chosen research subject:

 
1) Grayson’s in love with a man called Devin.

  2) In 1987, there is no method of legally bonding two men or two women in marriage.

  3) Grayson doesn’t believe in God and neither does Devin. I’m not that surprised. There are people in my present who choose not to follow a religion, but it’s always been a part of me, so I find it strange when others are completely distant from those beliefs. But then again, from what I can tell, God is a very different “person” in 1987 than in 2874.

  4) Grayson defends his choice to stay in 1987. He doesn’t think Thomas understands the fact that not everyone, special abilities or not, is made to save the world or even to see the bigger picture. He’d rather focus on what’s around him.

  5) Grayson secretly told me that he doesn’t take the B-29 supplements stowed in the cabinet.

  When I found Grayson at the hospital, he was thundering up the steps as I was running down them toward the lab.

  “Blake! How are you? I’m heading up to do a delivery. Baby’s coming a little early and faster than planned,” he said, slightly breathless.

  “Oh, I could come back another time.”

  He stopped before reaching the door to the third floor and grinned down at me. “Come with me. I want you to see this. Childbirth in 1987 is quite different from your present. It’ll be very educational.”

  Before I could ask more questions or object, I was in a delivery room, my hands scrubbed raw, and blue paper covering my clothes, hair, and shoes.

  “This is a very special student of mine,” Grayson said to the distressed-looking middle-aged man and woman. A nurse put gloves on his hands and another tied a mask over his face. “Blake, this is Professor Kendrick and Professor Kendrick.” Grayson turned to me, giving me a knowing look. “The first specimen that you assisted me with was baby Kendrick.”

  The one we supplemented with a Tempus gene carrier rather than using Professor Kendrick’s specimen. So this child will be born with the Tempus gene. This child will be part of the reason the Tempus gene appears twenty-six years earlier.

  The woman’s screams kept me from marveling at this discovery, and I barely held on to my lunch or my consciousness as I watched Grayson literally extract the child from the woman’s sexual organs. There was nothing pretty or beautiful about this delivery. It was messy, painful, and nauseating. But once they had the little girl cleaned up and wrapped in blankets, a cloth hat placed on her head, which seemed to have a strange shape like a cone, the situation improved dramatically. And I found myself walking over to the little thing as she screamed at the top of her lungs while everyone in the room smiled.

  While Grayson listened to her chest, I caught one of the flailing miniature hands. The baby immediately squeezed my index finger and I stared at our hands—connected, even with an entire millennium between us.

  And I decided right then that time travel really was a miracle from God even if Grayson didn’t believe that.

  “What’s her name?” Grayson asked, when he finally got to hand her over to Professor Kendrick and Professor Kendrick.

  “Lily,” they said together.

  The birth of Lily, all six pounds and two ounces of her, weighed heavily on my mind for the remainder of my stay in 1987 and in the days that followed.

  * * *

  “Kendrick,” I mumbled, causing Blake to freeze the words on the screen and snap his head in my direction. “Holy cow.”

  “You know of the parents or the child?” Blake asked.

  “Lily … Lily Kendrick. She’s my Tempest partner,” I said. “In 2009.”

  “She’s okay?” Blake asked with urgency that came totally out of left field.

  “She was okay when I left 2009, as far as I know. I had seen her a few hours before.”

  “I saw her, too,” Holly added. “Probably twelve or so hours before … before coming here.”

  Blake leaned against the nearby wall and closed his eyes, letting out a breath. “All this time, for nearly two years, I didn’t know.” He jerked back to a full standing positioning and quickly composed himself. “I’m just relieved she’s okay, that’s all.”

  I lifted my eyebrows and glanced at Holly, who shrugged. “You could have told all this to my dad and he would have told you about Kendrick weeks ago.”

  “I’ll remember that next time,” Blake said.

  Holly laughed under her breath. It was the first time we’d heard any trace of sarcasm from Blake and it didn’t quite fit.

  “Lily became my mission,” Blake said. “She’s the reason I ended up here. Not that it’s her fault but because I witnessed her conception, her birth, and then found a way to keep seeing her.”

  OCTOBER 15, 2874.

  AUDIO RECORDED BY HOST.

  Today, during my training session at the White House, I asked Thomas and Dr. Ludwig about B-29. I told them about Professor Kendrick’s yelling and then crying in 1987 during Lily’s birth, and about the passion and chaos I had come to tolerate and eventually enjoy in that year. I asked if they thought B-29 might be inhibiting natural responses. Both Thomas and the very confident, always stern and fatherlike Dr. Ludwig dismissed this right away. This is the theory Dr. Ludwig explained to me by showing me the data and research.

  THEORY: B-29 brings clarity to the mind, not submission. Alcohol, drugs, stress, fear, elation, and lack of security cause poor decisions. Individuals without B-29 deficiencies have been traced throughout history and in most cases have been a huge asset to society.

  That was the end of our discussion on B-29, which led both Thomas and Ludwig to ask me about my own ideas for possible missions based on my free-time research. Since I’ve only been visiting one location, one year, and mostly one person, I had only one idea: to check in on the product of the Tempus gene experiment that I had seen born just days ago. If I could find her location and jump to a date later than her birth date in 1987, I would be able to report back to President Healy on whether or not she possesses special intelligence and possibly the ability to time-travel.

  Luckily, Ludwig and Thomas thought this was brilliant. They said at my age, I’m always going to blend in easily with most years. People don’t suspect a kid of being part of the government or a terrorist threat.

  So, now I have my very own experiment to work on. I’m naming it: Project Lily.

  OCTOBER 20, 2874.

  AUDIO RECORDED BY HOST.

  Day One of Project Lily is complete. I observed the subject in the year 1995. Age is approximately eight years old. She was playing with a few other children at a neighborhood playground in a place called Chicago, Illinois. I’d heard of this city during history class, but the merger with the country formally called Canada in 2245 relieved this city of its title. I missed the mark on the first try and Thomas had to lead me there. He left right away, which I was happy about since I wanted to complete this mission on my own as planned. Now that I’m familiar with the area, I don’t think I’ll have any trouble next time even with a different year.

  Lily Kendrick appears to be slightly tall for her age, very slim. Before the other children arrived at the playground, she was reading a book that, after careful research, I have determined to be far more challenging as far as vocabulary and plot complexity than the average for a child her age in 1995; however, it would be standard level in my present. This is proof that the Tempus gene has expressed itself in her phenotype, but the ability to time-travel is not present at this time, though I didn’t really expect it to be.

  I also noticed unusual behaviors when the subject interacted with peers. During a game that seemed to have complex rules that changed frequently, the subject attempted to correct the other children or suggest a more logical rule and immediately backed off the second she was met with resistance. The timid behavior surprised me, given her superior intelligence. I wonder if it might be difficult for an individual with the Tempus gene to assimilate socially to this year? Maybe it’s not God’s intention to displace a natural product of evolution? But then why would time travelers e
xist if not to help advance the future?

  OCTOBER 30, 2874.

  AUDIO RECORDED BY HOST AND MEMORY EXTRACTED FROM HOST.

  Day Ten of Project Lily. I made a big mistake today. The biggest one you can make on a mission like this. 2002 affected me very differently than the previous years of observing the subject. I hadn’t seen her older than eleven until now. I followed the fifteen-year-old Lily Kendrick while she walked her dog around the neighborhood and then stopped at a coffee shop and took up residence at a table outdoors. So, of course I did the same and this is what happened:

  An older woman walked up to me, tapping her foot and holding a small tablet and a pencil. “What can I get you?”

  I tore my eyes from Lily, who was bent over in her chair, tying the dog’s leash to one of the table legs. “Um, nothing. But thank you.”

  The woman stared at me, her mouth hanging open, and then anger crept up in her expression. “You can’t sit here unless you’re going to order something.”

  “Okay, I’ll have coffee.” The words were out of my mouth before I realized that I hadn’t planned on making any purchases in this year and didn’t bring money that would work in 2002. This was a rookie mistake and I knew I’d get ripped apart for it later on. I’d have to vanish before needing to pay. That would guarantee me a week without time-travel privileges.

  I must have looked as panicked as I felt because next thing I knew, Lily Kendrick was staring at me from the table beside mine, laughing lightly.

  “You look like someone who forgot his wallet?”

  I felt my pockets to go along with her theory. “Yes, and I think I’ve just gotten myself in a bind.”

  She nodded toward the empty chair across from her. “I’ll buy your coffee if you sit here with me. I just need a small favor.”

  “Are you sure?” I should have been asking myself that question rather than her. Interacting with the subject was never in the plan.