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Authors: Melissa E. Hurst
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destroyed, they’ll send in a retrieval team to confiscate artifacts if they’re worth saving. This desk is one of those. Built in 1850, it was salvaged when the house it was in burned. Dad asked to keep it since it wasn’t the main objective of the mission. General Anderson agreed because Dad was one of his best operatives.
The first time I saw the desk, I was less than impressed. The wood was chipped and had smoke damage. Dad insisted that I help him restore it. That was pretty wild because we discovered some hidden compartments in the desk. Six to be exact. If Dad had anything he wanted to hide, it would be in one of those compartments.
A few minutes pass as I search through the first five. They’re the easiest ones to get to—the false bottoms in all of the drawers. There’s nothing in them. With each empty discovery, my stomach twists a little more. There has to be something in the last one.
Before I can slide the middle drawer open, a chime sounds throughout the apartment.
I groan. Who could that be? I hurry out of Dad’s bedroom as the door opens. Professor March enters the apartment. I stop as if I’ve run into a force field. “What are you doing here, sir?”
“I tracked your DataLink,” he says as he sits on the couch. “You haven’t answered any of my comms, and I wanted to talk to you.”
I ignored them. “Yeah, well, I’m not exactly in the mood to chat right now.”
“I can imagine.”
I take one of the seats across from the couch and stare at Professor March.
“So,” he says, leaning forward, “how are you doing?”
“How do you think, sir?”
“Bridger, I know this is rough on you. That’s why I’m here. I thought you needed someone to talk to.”
I want to tell him that’s the last thing I want, but I keep that to myself. “What’s there to talk about?” I ask, my heart thrumming in my chest. “Everybody thinks I’m crazy, and my girlfriend is in a coma because of me. So things aren’t great right now.”
Professor March nods. “I stopped by your quarters before coming here. Zed and Elijah told me your mother was there earlier. What did she say to you?”
“Oh, the usual. She was more worried about how it would affect her or Shan. Then she blamed everything on Dad.”
“So Morgan was riding her broom again, huh?”
“Always.”
A sad look crosses Professor March’s face. I wonder what he’s thinking, but I can guess. He misses Dad too. They were roommates back in their Academy days and used to do everything together. Even after Dad went military and Professor March went civilian for their careers, they still made time to hang out. That used to irritate Mom endlessly.
“It killed me when I found out Leithan had died,” he says in a hoarse whisper. “He was like my brother. I was closer to him than my own sister. So I know what you’re going through.”
“Yeah,” I say, feeling my throat close. I swallow hard a few times. “I know we have those time traveling rules for a reason, but I don’t get why it would be so bad if you go back right away. Just before the moment someone is supposed to die and save them. How much could that affect the timeline?”
“Nobody knows for sure, Bridger. But would you really want to take that kind of risk?”
He’s right. I just don’t want to admit it. The pain is too much. All I can do is stare at the floor and hope I don’t wuss out in front of him.
After a few moments, he says, “Sometimes I wish cloning tech would’ve worked out. That would be better than nothing.”
I slowly nod. I want to have my dad here more than anything, but I don’t know if I like the idea of him being a clone. Around the year 2103, scientists developed a way to replicate bodies at an accelerated rate. For the right price, someone could have their genetic material stored. Then upon their death, the person’s consciousness would be downloaded, and within days they would be alive again. It seemed like the perfect way to cheat
The first time I saw the desk, I was less than impressed. The wood was chipped and had smoke damage. Dad insisted that I help him restore it. That was pretty wild because we discovered some hidden compartments in the desk. Six to be exact. If Dad had anything he wanted to hide, it would be in one of those compartments.
A few minutes pass as I search through the first five. They’re the easiest ones to get to—the false bottoms in all of the drawers. There’s nothing in them. With each empty discovery, my stomach twists a little more. There has to be something in the last one.
Before I can slide the middle drawer open, a chime sounds throughout the apartment.
I groan. Who could that be? I hurry out of Dad’s bedroom as the door opens. Professor March enters the apartment. I stop as if I’ve run into a force field. “What are you doing here, sir?”
“I tracked your DataLink,” he says as he sits on the couch. “You haven’t answered any of my comms, and I wanted to talk to you.”
I ignored them. “Yeah, well, I’m not exactly in the mood to chat right now.”
“I can imagine.”
I take one of the seats across from the couch and stare at Professor March.
“So,” he says, leaning forward, “how are you doing?”
“How do you think, sir?”
“Bridger, I know this is rough on you. That’s why I’m here. I thought you needed someone to talk to.”
I want to tell him that’s the last thing I want, but I keep that to myself. “What’s there to talk about?” I ask, my heart thrumming in my chest. “Everybody thinks I’m crazy, and my girlfriend is in a coma because of me. So things aren’t great right now.”
Professor March nods. “I stopped by your quarters before coming here. Zed and Elijah told me your mother was there earlier. What did she say to you?”
“Oh, the usual. She was more worried about how it would affect her or Shan. Then she blamed everything on Dad.”
“So Morgan was riding her broom again, huh?”
“Always.”
A sad look crosses Professor March’s face. I wonder what he’s thinking, but I can guess. He misses Dad too. They were roommates back in their Academy days and used to do everything together. Even after Dad went military and Professor March went civilian for their careers, they still made time to hang out. That used to irritate Mom endlessly.
“It killed me when I found out Leithan had died,” he says in a hoarse whisper. “He was like my brother. I was closer to him than my own sister. So I know what you’re going through.”
“Yeah,” I say, feeling my throat close. I swallow hard a few times. “I know we have those time traveling rules for a reason, but I don’t get why it would be so bad if you go back right away. Just before the moment someone is supposed to die and save them. How much could that affect the timeline?”
“Nobody knows for sure, Bridger. But would you really want to take that kind of risk?”
He’s right. I just don’t want to admit it. The pain is too much. All I can do is stare at the floor and hope I don’t wuss out in front of him.
After a few moments, he says, “Sometimes I wish cloning tech would’ve worked out. That would be better than nothing.”
I slowly nod. I want to have my dad here more than anything, but I don’t know if I like the idea of him being a clone. Around the year 2103, scientists developed a way to replicate bodies at an accelerated rate. For the right price, someone could have their genetic material stored. Then upon their death, the person’s consciousness would be downloaded, and within days they would be alive again. It seemed like the perfect way to cheat
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