He shouted a curse, then pressed his collar mic. “Gemma, what—”
“Get out! Get out! Everyone get out!”
“What do you see?”
“Esis! She’s in the lobby! Ivy, get out of there!”
Rebel turned white at the mention of his wife. He made a furious dash for the exit.
Gemma was alone in the command center, her fearful gaze leaping between the monitors and the shimmering portal on the wall. Soon Ivy and Olga returned through the white liquid surface, lugging the ailing Bruce Byer between them.
Gemma frantically motioned them in. “Close it! Close it! Hurry!”
Ivy dropped Bruce’s legs and waved the portal shut. “Jesus, Gemma! Are you sure it’s—”
“Yes, I’m sure! She’s right there! She—”
Suddenly every screen went dark. The static hum of their headsets fell quiet. Ivy tried to hail Rebel three times, then covered her mouth.
“Oh no. No! I have to go back!”
Gemma’s head jerked back as if she just woke up from a nap. Like Mia, the girl shared a rapport with her future selves. But Gemma’s weren’t content to pass her notes. They possessed her body like demons.
Now four minutes older in mind and spirit, she closed her eyes and wept.
“You can’t go back,” she said. “You can’t help any of them.”
—
Freddy Ballad floated down the maintenance hall on a disc of radiant white aeris. Though the young blond Gotham stood among the elite minority of tempics who could slip the bonds of gravity, he never got the hang of wing flight. He settled for simple acts of levitation, a handy trick now that he needed stealth. In this narrow concrete passage, his feet would clop like Clydesdales.
Once the clamor in his earpiece died down, he steered his disc around a corner and whispered into his mic. “Rebel? Ivy? What’s happening? Are we aborting?”
No response. Even Gemma, that shrieking little bat, had gone quiet. His eyes darted back and forth in busy debate. He didn’t want to play the coward here. The Ballads had a history of weakness, both genetic and moral. Freddy had a rare chance to elevate his family’s status.
He pressed on with his task, continuing to test every door with long white arms before cautiously peeking inside. He didn’t know why he was so scared. His targets were a half-dead augur and a boy who could throw fake fire. What chance did they have against his tempis?
The last door on the right opened to an empty locker room. Freddy moved on, then backed up for a puzzled second glance. Something wasn’t right. The angle of the lockers changed oddly when he moved his head, as if he were looking at a forced-perspective painting.
Sharp white spikes grew from his arms. He hopped off his disc and stepped through the door.
Suddenly the illusive screen vanished and two figures turned visible. Freddy barely had a chance to register Theo in the background before his stunned gaze fixed on David and his government-issue pistol. It pointed right at Freddy’s face.
A hot stream of urine trickled down the tempic’s leg. “Wait—”
The gunshot rattled every surface in the room. Theo watched in wide alarm as the stranger fell backward in a bloody heap.
“God. Jesus. You killed him.”
“I saved us,” David replied. “Come on.”
After a quick scan of the hallway, he escorted Theo to the drab and tiny office of the building security manager. David stashed him behind the metal desk and crouched at his side. Theo saw new flecks of blood on the boy’s face. They mingled with the thin wet stripes that dribbled from his forehead gash.
“Stay here while I look for the others,” he told Theo. “Keep hidden. You’ll be all right.”
“I won’t.”
“Why do you say that? What do you see?”
Theo blinked confusedly. He was responding to something David said thirty seconds from now.
“I . . . never mind. Just be careful. I think Melissa might be coming. I think she’s bringing a whole lot of people.”
David cursed under his breath. That damn woman was the last thing they needed now.
“All right. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
He glanced down at the gun in his hand as if he just remembered it was there. He looked to Theo with pale discomfort.
“I would, uh . . . I’d consider it a kindness if you didn’t tell the others what I did. I’d rather they hear it from me.”
Theo nodded shakily as time looped again. “I won’t.”
Once David left the room, Theo’s hold on the present slipped away like a thousand balloons. He huddled in the corner, his mind scattering across futures near and—
“No.”
—very near. He felt a wave of panic so powerful that his whole body fell to quivers. Something was coming for him. Something terrible.
You have no cause for fear, a cold voice in his thoughts assured him. In moments, you’ll experience a great and wonderful change. Nothing will be the same again.
“No . . .”
Now a thousand busy screens in his head all united to display the smiling image of a white-haired man.
You are ready, Azral told him. Come to me.