Saved him, Dorothy thought, a shiver moving through her. Of course. Eliza had accused her of setting Ash free when Mac had been holding him prisoner. Another lie that wasn’t a lie after all.
“Why didn’t Zora want me to know about this?” Dorothy asked.
“I think she was worried that telling you about the meetings would somehow set the whole chain of events that leads to Ash’s death into motion,” Chandra said. “But I don’t think time travel works that way.”
Three meetings, Dorothy thought. She’d seen Ash three times over the last week, she’d spoken to him. About what? What could’ve been so important that it sent her back in time to find him?
There was a sound in the other room, a window sliding open, and then Zora’s voice calling, “Chandra, did you see that book on theoretical physics? I thought it was in the workshop but—”
Chandra leaped to her feet. Go, she mouthed to Dorothy, her eyes suddenly wide. She flapped a hand down the hall. “You can get out through the kitchen in the back room, the window leads to the docks on the other side of the building.”
Dorothy hesitated. She put her hand on the Professor’s journal pages, which were still tucked inside her cloak.
She really should tell Chandra what she’d found. She wasn’t sure whether any of them knew that the Professor had been looking into traveling through time without a vessel prior to his disappearance, but she imagined that information would be invaluable to them. Right now, Mac had everything he needed to travel back in time—the last remaining time machine, not to mention all the exotic matter. If there was a way of time traveling without those things, surely they would want to know about it.
But something made Dorothy hesitate. Right now, those pages were her only remaining bargaining chip. She might need them. It seemed foolish to hand them over without asking for something in return. And she could only imagine what Zora might do if she found Dorothy here, interrogating Chandra.
“Thank you,” she whispered to Chandra, leaving the pages where they were. And then she slipped down the hall and through the back window before Zora could discover her.
LOG ENTRY—AUGUST 20, 2074
14:20 HOURS
THE WORKSHOP
I’ve spent the last two days constructing Nikola’s device for inserting exotic matter into my person, using the blueprints that he so helpfully laid out in the notes he left for me. I tweaked them a bit—science has come a long way in the last 150 years—but the general idea is his. As such, I’ve decided to call this little gadget the “Death Ray” since that’s what he told the press he was working on in his final years.
Oh God, please let that name remain ironic.
The Death Ray is now complete. It’s a handheld device about the size and shape of a small gun, with a long needle where the barrel would normally be. I’m to use this needle to extract exactly ten milliliters of exotic matter and insert it directly into my aorta.
I should pause for a moment to point out that a ruptured abdominal aortic aneurysm can cause life-threatening bleeding.
So, ha ha, I better not mess this up.
Here goes nothing.
Oh God . . . my hand is actually trembling.
UPDATE—
AUGUST 20, 2074
16:05 HOURS
And . . . I’m back! Also, not dead! I’ve successfully injected myself with exotic matter, and I think it’s safe to say that I have not caused any life-threatening internal bleeding. A toast to small victories!
As the first man alive to have exotic matter implanted into his person, I also feel it necessary to point out that this stuff feels weird! There was a cool, tingly feeling at the injection site, followed by what I can only describe as a brightness bursting through my veins. It felt like liquid sunshine spreading through my entire body. Extraordinary.
In any case, this is only step one. Step two is, actually, not as complicated. According to Tesla, there are millions of microscopic anils below the earth’s surface. The exotic matter should stabilize my body for travel, so now I just have to harness the power of these tiny wormholes and allow them to transport me back in time. As I will not be in a time machine, navigation will be more difficult. I’m not actually sure how it will work. When I’m in the anil, I look for specific patterns in the tunnel walls.
Tesla has theorized that time travel using the energy of the smaller anils below the earth’s surface should work like water moving through stone. In other words, I’ll be likely to travel through well-worn territory, revisiting places where I’ve been recently or often. Very interesting.
If he’s correct in his theory, all I need to do is “align myself with the Puget Sound anil.” To be perfectly honest, I’m not entirely sure what he means by that. How does one “align himself” with an anomaly of the natural world?
I do know this—the Puget Sound anil opened in the Cascadia subduction zone. I believe it’s possible that just being near the subduction zone could be enough to harness the power of the anil.
Which is why I’m sitting in a little rowboat right now, just outside the zone, preparing myself to—to put it scientifically—row forward and see what happens. Here I go.
If Tesla’s theory is correct, I should feel a sort of current, which he said should feel like a fishhook in my navel and—
Oh—
6
Dorothy kept to the shadows, following the winding, rickety docks through the city. The sun had come out of hiding, and its crushingly bright light glimmered off the black water, edging the day in gold.
She found herself looking over her shoulder more than she needed to and hunching down in her cloak, like the thin layer of cloth might protect her from a gunshot or the cold slash of a blade. This sort of brightness always put her on edge. It tricked her mind into thinking she was safe. It made her drop her guard.
