“Drag the brown sliders first, one at a time. Then, the blue, one at a time. Do the same thing with the green sliders. In that order. Brown. Blue. Green.”
“Brown first.” I repeat, and slide the control to the off position. The display glow dims as each one gets shut off. “They’re out,” I say when it’s done. The energy signature flickers and then dims, but doesn’t disappear. “What’s next?”
“Upper right quadrant of the panel. There’s another set of circuits. Both of them are red. Slide them to the off position. That should do it.”
The ship tilts to the right, just as violently as the last maneuver. I crack my head on the corner of the wall console and fall to the ground again. A warm damp spot grows on my scalp. I put my hand up to feel it and it comes away bloody.
The circuits I just switched off—the brown, green, and blue—glow bright and incandescent as they spring to life. “They’re overriding the system,” I say, struggling to regain my feet.
The energy signature glows bright on the pa once more and takes human form.
I lunge at the control panel and swipe my fingers over the circuits: brown, green, blue. Finally, red.
Before I can swipe the last red circuit, the lights in the transporter bay—including the lights on the transporter pads—blink out. It’s so dark, I can’t even see my hand in front of my face.
“Nico?” I call out. “What the hell—”
As quickly as they were extinguished, the lights flicker back on. All the lights except for the transporter pads, which pulsate several times before going dim.
“We’re in the cavern. At the entrance to the time portal,” Nico says. “Transporter offline?”
“Yeah,” I reply. “It was touch-and-go there for a minute. Carter almost boarded us.”
I climb the ladder up to the main deck and settle in the co-pilot’s seat. Outside the windows, the gemstone-lined cave glistens. Ahead of us, the star points of the portal glow a ghostly white.
“You sure about this?” Nico nods towards the coordinates on the display panel.
“It’s the one place they won’t think to look for us.” I reach over and put my hand on his. He stiffens, but doesn’t push me away. “I know you’re mad—”
He shoots me a look. “Mad doesn’t begin to cover it.”
“I know.” I take a deep breath and let it out. “I fucked up big time. I don’t know if I can make it right. What I know is that someone—probably Trevor—changed my letter and we have to figure out why. We can’t go home because they’ll be waiting for us.”
“If there’s a home to go back to.” He shifts in his seat and peers out the windows, assessing the situation. “The portal doesn’t look any different than it normally does, but I don’t know enough about quantum mechanics, or the way the portal works, to assess if that means it’s working or not.”
“What’s the worst that could happen?” I ask, leaning over to peer out the window with him. The walls of the cavern gleam with an unearthly light that radiates from inside the stone.
Nico shakes his head. “Either the portal doesn’t let us through, if it’s not working, or we get stuck in a temporal loop and never make it home.”
“Or we could end up exactly where my coordinates say we’ll land.”
“Can’t go back there.” Nico jerks a thumb toward the direction we just left. “Can’t go home because they’ll arrest us.”
“The only way out,” I reply, pointing ahead of us, “is through.”
“All right. Hang on.” Nico sighs and taps the control panel, locking the coordinates into the navigation system. “Gonna be a bumpy ride.”
There’s the familiar deep hum of the engine as it spins up. Nico swipes the navigation control circuits up, and the ship vaults forward into the portal.
Chapter 25
I’m aware of my body floating. Aside from this, I feel no other physical sensations: I must be breathing—if I weren’t I wouldn’t be conscious of everything around me—but I can’t feel the air exchange in my lungs. No inhales. No exhales.
There’s no sound.
No scents.
It’s pitch-black.
I don’t even feel the weight of clothing on my skin.
Am I dreaming? Can you wonder if it’s a dream if you’re in the middle of one?
I can’t feel the muscles in my arm as I bring my hand up in front of my face. In fact, I can’t see my hand, though I know that it’s there.
Out of the silence, a sound like top-volume feedback from an amplifier blasts in my ears. Out of the cacophony, a vibration streaks from my head down to my toes; I wonder if my body is being recalibrated from floating nothingness back into physical matter.
The vibe concentrates in my chest—a warmth that spreads like someone’s pulling a wool blanket around me as I’m sucked down into my body. The sensation isn’t heavy. It’s lighter than the air I must be breathing but still can’t feel.
A voice calls out, so faint that I wonder if it’s human. It sounds like an echo and it’s growing louder with each iteration.
Yes, it is a voice. My name. Someone’s calling me.
“Dodger.”
The vibration in my core downshifts to the gentle pulse of my own heartbeat.
There’s a rough shake of my shoulders and a loud gasp; I’m startled to realize the sound came from me.
I open my eyes to Nico standing over me, peering down into my face.
“God, I thought I lost you,” he says with a relieved sigh. “Stay put while I get some water.”
He disappears—presumably to fetch the water—and I take blurry stock of my surroundings: I’m in the ship’s cockpit. The co-pilot’s seat. Outside the windows, dense fog obscures whatever lies beyond it.
My head hurts, a dull throb in my forehead and behind my eyes. Nico returns with a cup. “Drink this.”
The water hits the back of my throat with a hot metallic bite.
