I walked away from the destiny that future me presented. I can’t go back now. If I don’t stop the Project, then it will control me for the rest of my life, either as its leader, or as a fugitive, forever looking over my shoulder. I don’t want to run away anymore, or put my head down and live the life of a recruit, moving blindly forward, only surviving by hiding my true self from everyone around me.
I have to stop the Project. It’s the only choice left.
The door opens again. This time it is LJ, and he’s carrying a heavy folder. “The plan,” he says, waving it in front of me. “You can look through it on your own, though the gist of it is simple. We send you to the spring of nineteen forty-three, and you infiltrate the new Facility. The heads of the Project are looking for personnel in the early forties. It’s a secret, of course. They plant fake advertisements in major newspapers and conduct an intensive screening process until they find candidates who match their criteria. They like people who don’t have strong family ties, who will make analytical choices instead of emotional ones. It takes months for the Project to weed out people, but we know you’ll be able to pass their tests. You can apply for an assistant position. It’ll give you close access to the head scientist, Dr. Faust. Then you’ll have to kill him before he discovers how to employ Tesla’s research to create the first TM. You’ll also have to destroy his notes and research, but that shouldn’t be too hard; apparently he’s always been suspicious, and only has the originals. There’s a picture of him in there.”
“I know who he is. I’ve met him before.” Faust’s face, his thin brown hair, flashes through my head. He becomes responsible for so much destruction, but can I really murder him in cold blood?
“The folder also has backup plans in case you end up in the wrong time.”
“The wrong time? What does that mean?”
He lifts one shoulder. “I’ve never been able to get the same accuracy out of the TM that the Project does. It’s better than it used to be. When I first went through, I was two years earlier than what I’d intended. But don’t worry. We’ve thought of every scenario and offer solutions in here. Do you want to see?”
He holds the folder out.
I take it from his grasp. It is a thick file, and I open it to see a blueprint of the Facility on top. Underneath is a blurry photo of Faust, standing in the woods of Camp Hero. Below are pages and pages of notes. LJ must have gone through time over and over to pull together all this information.
“A lot of it will be old hat to you,” he says. “But I hope some of it will be helpful.”
“No, this is great. Thorough.”
He lets out a slow breath. “So you want to help us?”
“Yes.” I shut it again, weighing the thick folder in my hands. “The Project has to be stopped.”
A few minutes later I walk into the TM chamber wearing the pink dress, the folder tucked under the cotton fabric, taped against my back to keep it in place. LJ is already seated at the desk, Tag and Nikki standing next to him.
Their son, Chris, is across the room, standing next to a large wheel that’s attached to a generator. At LJ’s signal he pulls at the round metal, his biceps tightening under the strain. A humming, grinding noise fills the room, echoing off the high ceilings and empty spaces.
LJ taps a few buttons on his keyboard while Chris spins and spins the wheel of the generator. The base of the TM starts to flicker. He is powering it slowly, and the large machine responds, thin light traveling up the sides and streaming out of the cracks in the sheets of metal. In a few seconds it is lit up from within, as if it is glowing, as if it is alive on its own.
“Where will it send me?” I ask LJ. Without another TM to catch my body as I hurtle through space and time, I will emerge from the wormhole as soon as I meet a solid surface.
“I’ve programmed you for the woods in Camp Hero. Montauk will use the natural magnetic forces there to pull your body to it. You should land harmlessly in the woods, right where Dr. Faust will eventually create his time machine.”
The generator hums, and now the TM has added to the sound, a low, constant buzz that vibrates through my body, my bones. I have heard that noise so many times, and it’s hard not to shudder as it calls out for me.
Nikki steps over to where I’m standing near the doorway. Her arms close around mine again. “Thank you for doing this.”
I allow myself to press against her for just a minute, to feel the comfort of her arms. But I need to stay focused in order to get through this, and I step away quickly.
LJ straightens from behind the desk. “It’s time.”
I open my mouth to respond but I’m cut off by the shriek of a loud siren. It sounds like an old-fashioned fire truck, dipping down then louder again. I cover my ears with my hands, but cannot block out the noise.
“The alarm. Someone’s breached the perimeter.” Jay rushes back to the computer. His fingers move so quickly they blur as he jabs at the keys. “There’s a break near the southwest corridor.”
“The Project,” Nikki whispers, her hands pressed to her face. “They’ve found us.”
“I’m on it.” Tag moves toward the door, pausing at the last minute to look at me over his shoulder. “Good luck, Lydia.”
“Wait.” I put my hand out to stop him. “I know you won’t remember this, once the time line changes, but take care of Wes for me.”
“I will.” His wide
