“What?” Michael and I asked in unison.
“He went to the same high school, and was in the same graduating class as Bailey Collins.”
That was the last thing I thought I’d hear. “You mean....”
“Yes, your Bailey Collins, class of ninety-five, Franklin H.S., Pennsylvania.”
From the look on Michael’s face, I could tell this was news to him too.
Jayden continued, “If they’ve had any association since then, I couldn’t find any trace of it.”
I looked at Michael again, “He didn’t even flinch when Tim Ramirez mentioned his name the other day.”
“No, he wouldn’t. Not if he’s in on it,” Michael concluded. “And if he is in on it, this has all been well rehearsed. If he’s not, he probably wouldn’t even recognize the name.”
Jayden cut in, “Oh, he would recognize the name of his best friend since 1st grade, his partner in his state championship science project.”
Michael frowned. “You’re right,” he took a drink from his glass. “This doesn’t look good.”
I sighed, “It is something to keep in mind, and look further into, but at the present I’m more concerned with these guys dressed like Michael than I am with Raymond Morrison. He’s in jail.”
Jayden finished her glass, and set it on the side table, “At the present I am concerned with what we’re going to eat.”
We headed to the kitchen, and she and I made a plate full of sandwiches while Michael cut some apples and pears. Artemis joined us from wherever she had been napping, and I found her cat food and dishes in the cabinet next to the sink, just like Mom kept the cat food at home.
There was no more conversation, we just ate. We were all so hungry; I wound up making four more sandwiches before we all had our fill.
Chapter 12
09/25/2006
Breakfast at Marion's
Aromas of pancakes, bacon and eggs wafted to my nose from the kitchen; the scents, dancing their way through the closed door and drawn curtains around the bed, made my mouth water before I opened my eyes. I looked at the Hopper on my wrist; it was 6:23 a.m. No one should’ve been awake that early; we were up too late the night before.
I sat up to find not one, but two content fur balls curled up at my feet; Artemis and a long-haired white cat. Clicking my tongue to get their attention, Artemis looked up immediately, but the intruder did not look up until I wiggled my foot next to him. My suspicion was confirmed - it was my mother’s cat, Orion. “What on Earth are you doing here?” I asked him, though he was all white and blue eyed, and had the companion trait linked to those - he was deaf.
Stretching out my hand, I curled my index finger back toward me, our familiar sign to “come.” Both cats got up and stretched before coming to me for a morning scratch. Then they hopped to the floor. Orion’s presence answered the question of who was cooking breakfast in the kitchen. I opened the door a crack for them while I pulled on my jeans and then hurried to follow them down the hall.
***
“Mom?” I turned into the kitchen as she turned away from the stove and toward me, and I came to a screeching halt.
The Mother I recognized from my baby pictures greeted me. “Hello, Sweetheart, I hope you’re hungry.” I saw her two weeks ago - before she left for her cruise - and she looked a young sixty. Now she wouldn’t be mistaken for a day over thirty-five. She sensed my astonishment, “I’m sorry, Honey, I know it’s a shock. Michael did tell you about the Flamella tree, didn’t he?”
“Yes,” I shook my head and stepped forward, smiling, to hug her. “I’m sorry. You look great. I just wasn’t expecting it.”
“I reversed before I got on the cruise,” she explained before I asked. “It was planned because we knew this time was coming.”
“We just hit a few potholes along the road,” Michael had snuck up behind me again. “Mornin’, Marion.”
Mom smiled brightly at him, “Still like your eggs over-easy?”
“Good memory.”
She shrugged and turned back to the stove, “Three hundred and twenty-four years, still sharp as a tack.”
I stepped back, putting my hands out “Whoa, slow down for the not-so-morning person, okay?” I wished Jayden was up so I would know I wasn’t crazy. “Let’s skip the time travel and Flamella tree until after breakfast.”
“You’re right, Honey. Grab a seat,” she gestured to the table. “Food’s ready.”
We were all sitting down eating when Jayden shuffled into the room with a total case of bed head. She sort of nodded in our direction, but her line of sight went straight to the coffee maker and her feet followed. She poured a cup in the mug Mom left out for her, and put it to her face. I loved the fact that Mom thought to brew a pot for her since neither of us touched the stuff, and apparently Michael didn’t either.
“Morning, Jay,” I greeted her between mouthfuls of pancakes. Without looking up, she groaned in reply. I knew she wouldn’t budge from the counter at least until she had poured her second cup.
Mom got up from the table, “Go ahead and have a seat Jayden, I’ll fix you a plate.” Jay shuffled right past her, without even flinching at her obvious transformation and sat down next to me and across from Michael.
Jayden still gave no hint of recognition when Mom returned with her plate and set it before her. I thought perhaps she didn’t recognize that this younger woman was my mother. She mumbled, “Thanks,” and began eating. After a few mouthfuls, she seemed to perk up. “Delicious as usual, Mrs. Marquet, but I was hoping for your French Toast.”
We all kind of looked at her with our jaws dropped, for my BFF was not one to miss things like Mom being twenty years younger and she certainly never missed an opportunity to make a commentary remark. She looked at Mom, then me, and laughed. “I don’t know why you’re surprised that I’m not surprised by this. Your mom knows about the Flamella Tree, duh. By the way, Mrs. Marquet, you look fantastic. Not that you didn’t for sixty....”
“Thank you dear,” Mom smiled, reached over and patted her hand. “Can you do me a favor now?”
“Sure thing.”
“Call me Marion, I’ve been telling you that for the last ten years.”
“If you insist,” she took bite of toast, chewed and swallowed. “I’m just not sure I can get used to it.”
Mom finished her mouthful and asked, “You don’t think you’ll get used to the newer me?”
Jay smiled, “No, calling you Marion.”
My mouth was still hanging open, so I closed it and looked at Michael in consternation. He smiled and shrugged his shoulders.
As we ate, Michael finished filling Mom in up to this point. They had apparently had several conversations by phone over the last few days, so she really wasn’t that far behind.
When I finished, I pushed back from the table and gave my belly a little rub. “That was delish, Mom, thank you.”
“Here, here,” Jay chimed in.
Mom wrinkled her brow and waved her hand dismissively, “It was nothing really.” She got up and started clearing her dishes, so we all got up to help. She started the water at the sink, “I’ll wash and Michael can dry. Why don’t you girls go primp yourselves and meet us in the Great Hall?”
“Okay,” we answered in unison, and like sailors who know better than to question a dismissal from KP, we turned and marched shoulder-to-shoulder into the hallway.
***
I didn’t realize how beat up I still felt until I got in the shower. The scuffle in my apartment had resulted in all sorts of aches and pains, but the hot water beating down on me for twenty minutes or so made a big difference. I’d completely forgotten the dried blood in my hair, and had to shampoo three times to get it all out.
By the time I finished, I felt refreshed, but still achy. I wrapped a big fluffy towel around my hair and another around my chest, and went back into the bedroom. There was a fresh set of clothes laid out for me on the bed. I figured Mom took care of Jayden as well, she th
ought of everything.
***
Jay was notorious for taking a long time to get ready, and I beat her back to the Great Hall for our strategy session, even with my extended shower. Mom and Michael had taken the chairs, so I sat on the couch. They just looked at each other for a long time, so I decided to open the conversation. “Are you two trying to communicate telepathically now or what?”
Jayden snickered, entering the room. “Don’t tell me you’ve got more tricks up your sleeve,” she teased.
Mom sighed and shook her head, “You girls....”
“Thank you!” I jumped up, and went to hug her. “There you are.”
“What are you talking about?” She laughed.
“You’re acting like my mother again.”
She smiled and smoothed my hair, “That will never stop. Now, Michael and I think we’ve figured out what we’re dealing with this time.”
I sat back down.
Mom continued, “Michael recognized the man in the car and the one in your apartment. One was from the last envoy before him, and the other was scheduled for two missions later. That they were both in the same time so close together means that the future has improved their plotting arrival points. The second team obviously met up with the first after the future knew that Michael had turned against them.”
Michael’s face bore shadows of guilt, “If I never left the first message, they might’ve assumed that I died on arrival, or in transit.”
“Does that happen?”
He nodded, “Yes, there’s been a few that didn’t make it. If I’d been one of them ...”
Mom rolled her eyes at him, “Michael you have got to stop with that. You were raised on what the UCE wanted you to believe, you didn’t know the truth yet.”
I was puzzled, “What do you mean?”
Michael sighed, “I followed my instructions; I left my first time capsule with my findings in my first week after I arrived. I reported where we were, the date, and that Samuel had a son. I did not know that his wife, Vivienne had succumbed to influenza only moments before Samuel arrived with the Essence, the fruit of the Flamella tree, which saved Daniel.”
“That was around sixteen fifty-eight, if I’m not mistaken,” Mom chimed in. “Your father was twelve at the time.”
“When did you meet Dad?” I asked her.
“It was early in the year, 1701, and that is a story I promise to tell. You’ve heard a modernized version but basically the same, only I picked him up in a horse-drawn wagon, not a T-bird. But right now, we’ve got to stay on track.”
Michael cleared his throat before continuing. “The man who was following us in the car was known to have landed in 2004 when I left. He and one other member of the six man team evaded The Shadow Watch, and disappeared having never reported back any usable intelligence.”
“Do you think your appearance in their timeline changed that in the future?” Jayden asked, wide-eyed. I could tell she was absorbing all of this like a dried out sponge that landed in a puddle.
“Yes, in fact, that’s most likely how the other team came to be here, now, in our present.”
Jayden nodded in agreement, “Sounds like that would be likely.”
“The man in your apartment was to be on the second team to be sent after me, which they had reduced to four as of when I left.”
“So that makes six of them?” I thought I was keeping up pretty well.
“At least, more subsequent teams could have been sent to join them.” Michael conjectured.
“Isn’t that a pleasant thought,” Mom said.
“It’s not like they can send an army,” Jayden added. “They have to be mindful of the fact that every person they send back is potentially a risk to the future as they know it.”
Michael smiled at her, “Which is why they haven’t sent an army. Believe me, they would if they could.” He turned to my mother, “We have to go to the Society, Marion. It’s the only way.”
Mom was adamant. “No Michael, Daniel insisted under no circumstances were we to go there.”
“And I swore to him that I would protect you and Samantha by whatever means necessary.”
Jayden and I looked at each other, her expression asking me what the argument was about, I shook my head because I didn’t get it either. “Why wouldn’t Dad want us to go to the Society for help?”
Mom got up and started pacing around before the fireplace, “Because he took the original Flamella Tree from them and hid it. They’re still holding a grudge.”
“Why would he do that?”
“For the same reasons Samuel had to leave the future - to keep from having it fall into the wrong hands.” She stopped, looking into the fire, continuing with her back to us. “The fruit of the Flamella Tree is called the Essence, as is that of the three offspring of the original tree. The Essence from all four trees will heal injuries, and can maintain your physical age if consumed regularly. But only the Essence from the original Flamella tree produces a seed that can reverse the aging process, as it did in me. To the Society, it is known as the Philosopher’s Stone.
“Samuel named the tree after Nicolas Flamel and his wife Perenella. As the story goes, they are believed to have been alchemists who devoted an extensive amount of time to their quest to produce the Philosopher’s Stone, which, at that time, was believed to be the key to immortality.”
“Some believe they completed their work.” Michael interjected.
Jayden was eating it up. “Did they?”
Mom laughed. “If they did they are better at hiding than we are apparently.”
“You’ve never met them then?” I asked.
“No,” Mom shook her head, “Samuel named the tree while he was still in the future, after their legend. That is really the extent of their significance. The fruit of all of the trees can heal and maintain the current age of he who consumes it. But it took two bites of the seed from the original tree, the Philosopher’s Stone, to make me this much younger.
“That is how powerful the Flamella Tree is. When your grandfather realized this, he immediately made plans to hide in the past and to protect it no matter the cost. He vowed he would destroy it rather than allow it to fall into the hands of the UCE, at least as long as the current leaders were in power.
“You see, the tree was not something intended by nature - by God. While Samuel’s intentions in creating it were altruistic, the UCE was working on a similar project for their own intentions, which are not so benevolent.
“Samuel hoped by fleeing to the past, he would be able to give himself time to figure out how to deal with the UCE. He managed for more than four hundred years to kill, evade or enlist their assassins, no offense to present company.”
“None taken,” Michael smiled. “You know as well as I do how far I’ve left that life behind.”
“Yes,” Mom stared almost through him, “I suppose I do. Sometimes I forget you were sent here to kill us.” She broke his gaze, looking back to me. “You have no idea how this man has sacrificed for our family over the last hundred years.”
“I wouldn’t be alive today if it weren’t for Samuel,” Michael said. “I didn’t know it at the time, I got the vaccine like everyone else, but he gave it to me personally. And I was among the first, I was very ill and he was adamant about getting the vaccine out to all of the children and those worst affected first.”
Mom smiled at him, “Well I for one am glad he did.”
“I’ll second that,” Jayden added. “I wouldn’t have been able to get out of that mess without you, Michael. I am in your debt.”
“Yes, you are,” he agreed with an impish grin.
“Eh-hem,” Mom cleared her throat. “We need to stay on track here.”
“Isn’t the Society part of what Michael is supposed to protect me from?” I asked.
“They are, in a way, but they aren’t looking to kill you. They only want to use you to get to the Flamella Tree.”
“But I don’t know where it is.”
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Mom sighed, “You don’t yet, but you will. And that is why, despite your father’s misgivings, they may be our only option right now. You’re very valuable to them, but only if you’re alive.”
“So we are in agreement then?” Michael asked.
Reluctantly she answered, “Yes. We have no other choice. They have the resources we need.”
Suddenly I was hit with a rush of panic. “Wait! What day is it?”
“It’s Monday, Sweetheart.”
“My book!” I’d completely forgotten. “I’m supposed to have it to Dave by 5:00 p.m.!”
Mom waved her hand at me, “Oh, Mr. Grier has granted you an extension until tomorrow. You have plenty of time.”
I stopped my jaw mid-drop, “How did you manage that?”
“I called him, silly girl.”
I was horrified. How could she call my agent? “You did what?”
“Its fine, Sweetheart, Dave and I go back a long time.”
Now I was flat out terrified, “What does that mean?”
“Well he’s a member of the Society, or rather one of the defectors in our service, like the Zhous.”
“Who else in my life is part of this charade?” Now I was angry. My agent was one of the people who owed my father his longevity, no wonder he wanted to get my book published.
Michael came to Mom’s aid, “Sam, it’s not what you think. Your book, what you call ‘Footsteps’ now, was published before. I read it in the future.” All I could do was blink at him. “You had a different agent, and yes, we did place Dave Grier for your protection, but your book, and all of the others you will write, is all you.”
At that point I’d had my fill of veils being lifted; I wanted the wool back over my eyes. I longed to be the little girl who would go curl up with her father on the leather sofa in the study at the end of the hall, and fall asleep with her head on his lap as he read to her. The weight of all I learned in the previous forty-eight hours crashed down on me, and I felt so far away from the self I was two days ago, two centuries could have passed. The room was suffocating me. “I need to go lie down,” I declared, and left the room.