“Yes,” I sputter.
“You know nothing about any time rift, anywhere,” he says. “Nothing.”
I nod now; anything to convince him that I’ll do whatever he says. My mind can’t think; it sends nothing to my body.
The blade of the knife trails over my cheek. I bite back a whimper and glare into the space where I think his eyes are.
“My dad….” I start in a desperate attempt to postpone my forthcoming death.
“Your dad made sure there would be no help down here.”
With those words, my loyalty completely breaks. I check my Circuit, but it’s still recalibrating. I know Dad’s used a canceling bot to make sure I’m off the grid and can’t chat the medical personnel, or Mom, or anyone. I’ve used cancelers before, but never so I could physically attack someone. Only so the authorities couldn’t crunch my code before I finished my jam.
Using technology—my specialty!—against me fuels the fissure growing between me and my dad. An anger awakens inside I didn’t know I possessed. I push my hands out in an explosive gesture, causing my attacker to stumble backward. Welcome air rushes into my lungs, and I touch my cheek. My fingers come away sticky with blood.
Fire races through my system, but I’ve waited too long. The Hood has regained his footing and he’s lunging toward me, knife first.
I dance to the side, but he’s well trained and I’m just trying to survive. Something hot slices my left arm. I automatically coil my hand to my chest. I hit the wall behind me, causing my knees to buckle.
A searing pain flows from the roots of my hair down into my skull as my head gets jerked backward. The breathing in the hall is ragged, and it’s not just mine.
“Shouldn’t have done that,” he whispers, his mouth right in my ear. I flinch away, but it’s no use. He could slit my throat at any moment.
Before I can speak, hot, deep pain jolts through my body. I feel like I’m falling and I can’t do anything to stop myself. A low chuckle accompanies the feeling and reverberates in my head.
I can’t move as the door opens and light blinds me. Hands gather me and lift me up. I’m jostled against a steel-hard chest, but I can’t do anything. Helplessness washes over me, and I’m grateful when I get dumped on a semi-soft mattress. Electricity crackles while a mechanical voice speaks. A response comes from Dad.
I close my eyes and make my breathing steady to feign unconsciousness. It’s hard with the pain spiraling through my shoulders and pounding behind my eyes.
Dad’s breath coats my cheek. He pushes my hair off my forehead, but I lay still, my pulse bouncing through my veins.
“You could’ve had it all,” he whispers, and cold chills race down my back. He pulls his hand away, but I don’t hear him retreat. “Everything I’ve done with the rift is for you.”
It’s so hard not to flinch. I feel the weight of both sides. Money, fame, and power with my dad. A life of luxury and prestige. Every day filled with his approval—something I’ve worked for tirelessly over the years. Isn’t that what love is? Loyalty, devotion, family bonds?
On the other side, I see myself defending Cascade. Tucking my fingers in between hers, and kissing her goodnight, and ensuring her safety—whether that’s here or we use the rift and simply step somewhen else to live our lives. Isn’t that what love is? Safety, security, protection?
Dad’s whisper-soft breath brushes my forehead. “What are you up to with that girl?”
I almost open my eyes and answer him, but I don’t. I don’t want to choose him over her; I want time to learn everything about Cascade.
“Whatever it is, I’ll find out,” he threatens. When I don’t respond, he leaves. He tells the Hood to lock it down and the very final sound of a sizzling energy field fills my cell.
In the darkness of the Time Bureau, I blink. So many things fall into place. The snaps of those pages I took with my cybernetics. They had names and numbers I didn’t understand. In the darkness of my cell, I see it all clearly.
Addresses,
Phone numbers,
Dates,
Street names,
People to be rescued. Or delayed. Or whatever it takes to make sure that debilitating car accident doesn’t happen, or a job-losing mistake isn’t made, or an important test is passed.
Little things can make a big difference, can make all the difference. And as Cascade has already told me, people are willing to pay a lot of money to make their little things exactly how they want them.
As I lay in the absolute darkness of the Time Bureau prison, I wonder how far Dad is willing to go to make sure I’m exactly how he wants me.
Price
“WAKE UP.” PAIN JOLTS THROUGH my ribs as something hard lands on a fresh bruise. “If you want your shower privileges, you better be up in the next sixty seconds.”
With difficulty, I open my eyes. My neck aches from its kinked position. My left arm is throbbing, as is every inch of my head and face. I pull myself into a sitting position, moaning with every movement.
“Price,” someone whispers to my right. “It’s Cooper. Get up, man. He’s coming back.”
Using my uninjured right hand, I pull myself to a standing position and lean heavily against a surface I can’t see. The clear, plastic wall separating my cell from Cooper’s is marred with fingerprints and smudges.
I can see everything in Subterranean D: The Hoods patrolling the corridor and everyone in every cell. See-through walls separate the huge room into compartments, and each one houses only a narrow cot like the one I have. Light orbs have awakened, brightening the corridors and shining into every cell. Sub-D is emptier than I expected, with only a handful of people down the hall past me and Cooper.
I meet his eyes for two seconds before I hear, “Let’s go, Stonesman. And no funny chatter this time.”
Coop’s electrical door disappears, and he steps into the hall where he’s promptly cuffed. The Hood steps to my energy field and taps in the configuration to make it dissolve. I note the seven taps and three slides. “Good, you’re up. Let’s go. Shower and relief are only thirty minutes.”
I limp behind Coop as the Hoods gather the rest of the prisoners and lead us out of Subterranean D and into a large locker room. Girls go one way, and I stick close to Cooper as he heads into the men’s area. I pause at a sink, looking at myself in the mirror.
Dried blood streaks my cheek. My lips are cracked, with dark red in every crevice. I stare at myself, not recognizing the person looking back. I examine my arm and find a two-inch wound on the inside of my elbow. As soon as I see it, it begins to sting.
I limp to the shower and turn it on hot. Suddenly the smell and taste of blood are everywhere, swirling around me like mist. Everything that happened last night rushes at me. I spin and lean toward the toilet before I throw up.
I scrub my hair and body three times before I feel like the blood is starting to wash down the drain. Half an hour later, I stumble back to my cell with a Hood at my side, where sleep consumes me whole.
The next time I wake up, I feel more like myself. I push my back against the wall and listen. “Cooper?” I finally venture to say.
“Not now,” he whispers back. “We can’t talk during the day. No Circuit access in the sub-levels.”
“What time is—?”
“No talking!” a patrolling Hood barks, and I clamp my mouth shut. It doesn’t matter. I don’t know what time it is right now, and without Circuit access, I have no way of keeping track. I lean my head back and close my eyes.
“Ryerson,” someone says outside my cell. I snap my eyes open as the door disappears. “Cybernetic analysis,” a woman says. She’s wearing skin sealant to protect herself from germs. She’s holding a body scanner, and she points it at me.
“Nicely healed,” she comments to no one in particular. “I need to access your cybernetics. I expect your complete cooperation.” She moves in a careful, controlled manner. Her voice doesn’t go up or down, but stays steady and even. She looks at me with
out any emotion in her expression.
The technician advances and her iron fingers grip my shoulders. “Open your eyes real wide,” she tells me.
Yellow light shines in my eyes as my cybernetics are accessed. I think of everything I have stored on them, and I want to rage. But I don’t do anything. There’s nothing to be done anyway. The government can’t normally take my data without my permission, but apparently anything goes in the Subterranean level.
The theft only takes ten seconds. I’m roughly released, lunging forward as the woman steps away. My eyes water, my fists curl, and I taste blood in the back of my throat. When I try to access my cybernetics, they won’t activate.
She appraises me. “We’ll see what we’ve got. If it’s enough, expect to hear from us soon.” She leaves with her body scanner and her cold-hearted efficiency. I have no idea what she’s talking about. The snaps and codes I have stored on my cybernetics can’t be useful to anyone in the Bureau. I’m careful not to store anything that could incriminate me.
A while later, my door degenerates again. “Price Ryerson?” a man asks. He’s got two other technicians with him, and I recognize the Sector they’re from: Security. The security level is in Sector S, and the Time Keeper’s office—my dad’s office—is just one floor above, in Sector T.
I nod, unable to understand why the security team is standing in my cell. It’s then that I notice that the man who spoke is Wilder Thomas—the public face of the Time Keeper.
“We need your help. Are you feeling well enough to take a look at some security feeds?”
“You need my help?” I can’t think past those four words. I stare at him, my eyes flickering to the Security insignia on his shoulder. He’s credited for most of the regulations regarding time travel. I wonder what he knows about me—what the data on my cybernetics told him—and if he’ll really take me to the Security hub.
He sighs, but I can’t tell if he’s annoyed or defeated. “Your file says you are exceptionally skilled in programming.”
“O-kay,” I say, not sure why my programming skills warrant Wilder coming down to the hidden Subterranean prison and asking an inmate for help.
“Look, we need your help with some programming…issues we’ve been having. Are you well enough to come upstairs for a few hours or not?”
I’m still not sure what’s going on, but I get to my feet as quick as I can, which isn’t very fast. “Sure,” I say, maybe a little too eager. Anything to get out of this cell for a few hours, where everyone is staring at me.
I scour the hallway for signs of Cascade, but there are only a few girls, and they’re all too old. She could be anywhere by now, including back in the past where she came from. I push the unsettling thought away. I won’t panic until I have the facts.
“Your dad says you’re also really good with electronics,” Wilder says as we exit the Subterranean level and start up the stairs. “He says you built your own Link station and can decipher code faster than anyone.”
I don’t confirm or deny what he says. I wonder how Dad knows all that about me. We don’t talk about my interest in programming and electronics. If the topic wasn’t inventing, Dad shut me out. I swallow hard when I think about what else Dad might know about me. I know he’s been searching for the Black Hat. Wilder probably has been too. I glance at him, but he just nods at me to keep walking.
In the lobby, my Circuit chirps to life. The blue light in my palm indicates that Dad’s canceling bot has run its course. I have the sudden urge to rip the Receiver from my body and never link-in again, just as Privatize fanatics have done.
Instead, I check my mail and find it thick as thieves. So many messages clog my inbox, several of them red-flagged.
The first is from my mom. She’s semi-frantic, and already in the city due to a “work crisis.” Her message says she’ll stop by this afternoon to “speak with me about my choices” so we can “come to a solution.” I have no idea what Dad told her, but I’m sure he hasn’t mentioned my illegal rift-walking.
Enforcement Squad reads the next flagged email. They’re closing my case regarding my two-hour absence yesterday. I get the same lecture as Dad about using a government-approved facility to service my Receiver. I have to reply that I received this message and understand that my case will be closed before the final step can be taken. Relief fills me as I compose and send the simple response. My dad has protected me in this instance, even if he can’t do it again. I wait for a sense of gratitude to come. Instead, I taste blood in my mouth and know it was one of Dad’s guards that beat me last night.
The last two messages detail targeted ads that failed. I click the links to verify that I’ve opened these emails. They take me to the ads, and I put in my mandated time before I navigate away.
This normal activity of checking my email settles me as we ascend toward Sector S. I follow Wilder and his team off the lift and around a glass-encased room to a door. More doors branch into offices behind me, but we enter the main security hub.
Everyone watches me as I’m hurried past two rows of screens and through the ready-room where security personnel are sorting through someone’s belongings. The whole sector buzzes with chatter, with an unspoken urgency to keep this building and all her secrets safe.
We enter an office that can only be accessed by weaving through the entire security level, and the solid steel door is fingerprint sealed behind us.
“Price, we have a special case for you.” Wilder wields a high-end portable Link screen and waves it as he talks. He clears his throat. “No one on my team has been able to crack it. This is the code from a hack that happened a few nights ago. I’m sure you know about it? The rift flick implant?”
I nod, because I can’t admit that I certainly do know about that hack, because hey, I’m the one who did it! Wilder must certainly know; I feel like he’s toying with me before he calls in the Hoods to really do some damage to my face.
He gazes at me steadily, but I don’t feel comforted. It doesn’t take words to alert the authorities. He finally gestures for me to take the portable Link screen. “We need you to find out how he got in. Then we want to know your opinion on how to make sure nothing like this ever happens again.”
I take the portable Link screen, marveling at its weightlessness. Very expensive, and probably not even on the market for the common consumer. “My opinion,” I murmur. I can’t believe they want me to consult them on their insufficient security systems.
I start to clear my throat, but stop, remembering that I didn’t want Cascade to think I was nervous around her. I don’t want Wilder to think that either. “I can work here, right?” I ask, glancing around the highly-secured office. “I need to be able to access the Circuit.”
“Yes, yes,” he says, smoothing his hair back into place. He shoos the other two technicians toward the door. “We’ll leave you to it. If you need anything, just put your palm against the my office door and call for me.”
“Wait,” I say just as he’s about the lock me in. “So…you’re the Security department head,” I say. “Not the Time Keeper.”
“Is that a question?” he asks, a small smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.
“You told my dad his alternate identity technology couldn’t be used.”
The grin vanishes from his face. “I still believe that. Crime would skyrocket.”
I’m staring at a man who’s won against my dad. Maybe the only one. “How did you do it?” I ask.
“Do what?”
“Overrule him.”
Wilder raises one eyebrow higher than the other. “Your father is a reasonable man,” he says. “Despite his icy demeanor and demanding tone.” He steps through the door and glances over his shoulder. “He also appreciates a well-researched argument.” He flashes his palm over a sensor, and the door shoots closed. The multiple clicks and high-pitched chirp means he’s locked me inside.
Better here than in that tiny cell, I think. I spend a minute standing at the window, looking into
the city. I never realized just how big Castle Pines is, how many people live here, how much responsibility Dad has as the Time Keeper. Of course, until very recently, I didn’t even know he was the Time Keeper.
I turn away from the view the same way I turn away from my thoughts. I access the portable Link device and dig into the Bureau’s security code. I already know how I got in, and I already know what I’ll tell Wilder to increase his security—only allow security and population-wide changes from a limited, pre-approved pool of signatures.
But I want to know everything about the Bureau’s security topography. How they run their interference, and which portals supply the appropriate energy. I dig through their clearances—fingerprints, retinal scans, voice recognition, coding sequences, and even electrical pulses from regulated devices I’ve never heard about. I access the Bureau personnel, and who has what clearances and where their offices are located.
I want to know everything about the internal workings of the Bureau. I don’t want Dad’s help to get released from Subterranean D. I’m smart enough to find my own way out.
Saige
HEATH FINDS ME SITTING AT his dining room table, my head cradled in my hands. “You awake?” he asks.
I lift my eyes to his. “Yeah.”
“What’s wrong?” he asks immediately. Maybe I’m wearing all my emotions on my face, or maybe he can read my freaking mind.
“Price and Cascade got arrested in your backyard,” I tell him, like it’s nothing. But it’s something, because I need to talk to that girl. She’s the only link I have to my family.
He curses and paces into his kitchen. I scrub my eyes. I slept for maybe an hour, so I get up and stretch my back. I give Heath a few minutes to himself before I join him. “Where are your parents?”
“Dealing with a family issue,” he says. “We’ll figure out where Price and Cascade are, okay? But first, we need to make sure you can walk around in public.” He goes to a bin of gadgetry on the kitchen counter and rummages through it. He returns with a round object. “This might hurt a little.” He takes my right hand. “Open your fist.”