by Holly Hook
I lean again the railing and sigh.
Simon wraps his arm around me. It's welcome in the bitter cold of the morning. The horizon's pink, outlining the jagged form of a distant iceberg. Is it the one supposed to doom us?
I try not to think about it. I lean into Simon and absorb his warmth. His salty scent. He smells so much like the beach. Like the day we met while searching for Melvin. Even like the day Father threw open the front door of our house with four tickets to America in hand, announcing that we were finally bound for a better life.
Maybe now, Father is right. We are bound for something better.
"It's over," Simon whispers in my ear. Behind him, one of the officers says something. "Frank is, anyway. For now. At least he'll be out of the way. The next part shouldn't be too bad."
"I hope."
We turn away from the rail. Frank will have to float in the ocean for quite a while. If we're lucky, his joints will stiffen and he will sink. I glance over the rail again. The water remains dark and foreboding as ever and I spot no signs of movement. A lone piece of ice drifts away, but that's all. I think of the darkness Frank may be plummeting through right now and I wonder if he'll reach the bottom, to where things crawl on the ocean floor and wait to devour any meal that lands.
I almost feel sorry for him.
But this, at least, gives us some time to figure out how to get to the Civil War.
"You two," Isabel calls. I glance around Simon. She stands by the doorway to the bridge, holding the hair clip close to her. I don't want to leave Simon's grasp, but I must. The two officers stand there as if stunned. One leans close to the other and whispers something. Sooner or later, they'll try to talk to us to learn more about what just transpired. They might even detain us while they try to unravel this mystery. We don't need that.
Isabel turns and vanishes back inside.
"Young lady!" one of the officers calls, but she doesn't come back out.
I grab Simon's arm and we follow. We don't have time to explain to the officers how we knew about Frank. I know that we're leaving them with an enigma that they'll wonder about for the rest of their lives, but at least they have the rest of the their lives.
"Sir. Ma'am. Where are you going?"
I almost slip on the golden trail on the steps. Frank's blood is still here. It gets worse inside. Simon and I hug the wall to avoid stepping in it. This, too, will baffle researchers for hundreds of years. Isabel waits by the ruined gate. The third officer shouts again from inside his cabin. We'll have to leave him for the other crewmen to find.
“Come back. We want to talk to you!” The officer is more bewildered than angry.
We bolt through the gate and Isabel closes it behind us. We bolt for the elevators and head down to the next level. The brass cage carries us further into the innards of the ship.
We all catch our breath.
"Here," Isabel says. "I don't want to carry this." She hands be back the hair clip as if it's some kind of dangerous weapon.
I study the butterfly. It must have gathered at least some of Frank's memories. Now it's only a matter of putting it on and receiving them. I'm tempted to do it now, but we have to make sure we have quiet first.
Somewhere above, an officer calls for us again. "You are not in trouble. We merely wish to speak to you."
At last, we make it down to my normal deck, following the path of unlocked gates that are sure to be discovered. They'll follow us and we don't need that. If there's a rift here on the ship, it could vanish at any moment, destroying our chance to ever visit Frank's time.
"In the dining hall," Simon huffs.
We're in the long hall that joins both third class sections. The door to the dining hall is wide open. We dodge in as footfalls echo at us from the direction we came. They're still chasing us.
"Don't close the door," I say once we're in. "That'll look obvious. Press against the wall." I have no other ideas. I don't dare move too far away from the door. I don't want them to hear me. The three of us do so and the footsteps grow louder.
And pass.
I hold my breath until they're down the hall. After several minutes, I nod at the nearby long table. There's the faint sound of footsteps from the kitchen and I jump, but we're alone in here. I breathe out. Frank's not going to hurt us right now.
We sit. The place is so empty and quiet.
“I take it I should put this on and see what we got out of him," I say, setting the hair pin down on the table. I face Isabel. “Unless you think it would be better for you to look at Frank's memories. You know, in case there's private stuff on there you don't want us seeing." How long were Isabel and Frank together?
She makes a face, deliberating. “I think I would be best,” she says.
Isabel fixes the hair clip to her scalp, rubs her finger across the metal body, and waits. She exhales and spreads her fingers out on the table. Sweat marks appear around them. She's nervous and I don't blame her. What kind of things about Frank does she dread seeing?
Isabel winces. "I hate this part," she says, squeezing her eyes shut.
I watch her for seconds. At last, her eyes fly open and she takes the clip off. “This got only the past couple days' worth of his memories,” she says. “Frank didn't have it on long enough to get more than that. But it's enough. There's a rift on the Boat Deck, right behind one of the funnels where no one walks. It was pretty strong when Frank came through it and it should still be there for at least a few more days. At least, that's what Frank thought about it when he came through. I'll trust his judgment on that. He's traveled through more rifts than even I have."
Simon pumps his fist in victory. I want to do the same. Instead, I raise my hand as my heart leaps. We need more than a way to get back to the Hub, the place where all times and places meet.
"Did you get the memory of where the rift to his time is?" I ask. "It'll do us no good getting into the Hub if we don't know which one of those millions of gateways will lead to him."
Isabel nods. "Don't worry. It turns out that right before he came here, Frank went and stood by it for a long time. He made a promise to his twin that he'd never let anyone get eaten by the Chronophages again. It's luck that he did that before he came here, or we'd be done before we even started."
Frank made a promise.
The way Simon made a promise to me.
"Should we go?" Simon asks. "I mean--we have time to sleep a bit before we do, if the rift's as strong as you say it is. Frank's not going to get to us. I hope he's enjoying the way the freezing ocean feels."
"So do I." I can't help but feel a bit sad about Frank standing there at his rift, unable to return to his brother. When I was Timeless, I had the same horrible experience. But why am I feeling sorry for him at all?
Isabel glances at the entrance to the dining hall. "I think we should rest before we go," she says. "If you'd let me sleep in your berth, that is."
I get up. My eyelids droop and my limbs ache. We're in no shape to march into the Civil War until we get some sleep and a decent meal. "I agree," I say. "The hardest part will be convincing my father to let you stay."
Chapter Six
Sleep is marvelous, now that I know Frank won't be going back in time and killing me all over again while I lie here. I sink into my bunk and Isabel takes the spare one on the other side of the room. Father's snoring and Melvin's sucking his thumb. My family's together. It's the way it should be. I can't wait to spend breakfast with them in a few hours.
After that, I'm not sure I'll ever see them again. I'm going to enjoy this time with them no matter what.
My thoughts twist around each other and drift apart. Eventually, I fall into darkness and remember nothing more until Father's voice wakes me.
“Julia, who is this?”
I rouse from sleep and turn over. Father's dressed in his jacket and hat. He has one hand tucked into his trouser pocket and the other points to the bunk where Isabel still sleeps. She's still out cold, in her blue and white dress. Her
leg hangs over the edge and threatens to pull her onto the floor.
“Oh.” I need an explanation. “Her name is Isabel. She's a new friend of mine. Last night, she had a fight with...with her ex gentleman friend and didn't want to return to her berth. So I let her sleep here. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but it was very late.” I realize that I'm actually telling the truth and hold down a laugh.
Father's expression softens. “That's okay,” he says. “I am taking Melvin to breakfast. Just make sure she doesn't go through our things.”
Our things, I think. It's not like we have much.
Melvin is already sitting up, rubbing his eyes.
“You sucked your thumb again last night,” I tease.
“I did not.”
“You did.”
“I'm a big boy.”
“Are you sure?”
I help him dress and Father takes him down the corridor. Others are getting up. Footfalls pass our cabin. People talk and somewhere, a baby cries. There's life here. Fifteen hundred people who should be dead are now free to go on with their lives.
I dress, slipping on my brown dress with the flowers. After that, I wake Isabel. Father's pocket watch is gone, so I have no way of checking the time. I know we'll probably just have plum pudding again in the dining hall, but it'll be the best breakfast I've ever had.
And possibly, the last.
I shake Isabel and she groans. “Breakfast,” I say. “Then, we need to go.”
She mutters something and gets up. “I need a bath,” she says.
“We have one washroom for all of us third class passengers,” I say. “Sorry.”
She groans again and tucks her head under the pillow.
I lend Isabel one of my dresses, the gray one that's a bit too long on me. She thanks me. “I hope that helps,” I say. I'm not sure when any of us will get a chance to bathe again.
Simon's at breakfast, next to Father and Melvin already. He spins a coin on the table. Is it the same one he spun on the table at Trenton High School in a future that's now not going to include us? He waves us over and we sit.
Breakfast is too short. I keep thinking about whether or not we're going to succeed in stopping Frank permanently. Even without Frank on our trail, the thought of heading into the Civil War is enough to turn my insides cold. We could still die. The cannon that's supposed to doom Frank and his brother could end up hitting us instead if we don't come through the rift soon enough to rescue them. Or we could die in a hail of gunfire. There are too many what ifs.
But if we succeed in stopping Frank and his brother from going into the battle, Frank will never become Timeless. He'll never menace us and my family will finally be safe to go on with our lives.
And something else gnaws at me as I eat, and I'm not sure what it is.
No one says much. Isabel shifts on her stool next to me. Simon's hand leaves sweat marks on the table when he lifts them. He keeps his other linked with mine. Father doesn't even disapprove. He's been very lax since last night. We're all glad that we're not dead and that must have a lot to do with it.
At last, we finish eating. Father suggests that we go out and get some fresh air on the deck.
I glance at Simon. It's time.
We all go and get our coats. Isabel doesn't have one and I don't have a spare that I can give her.
"You keep your coat," she says. "We don't want your father asking why you don't have it. It's best not to attract that attention."
“Do you remember exactly where the rift is?” I ask, feeling bad about her going out into the cold. At least the dress I gave her is long sleeved.
She nods. “It's behind the very back funnel. We'll have to climb up a ladder to get to it. At least we won't have the issue of going into the first class section. And we can't let your father see us disappearing.”
“Like your father saw with us,” I say, thinking of that bathroom back in her time. “I imagine he's still wondering what happened.”
Isabel looks away. “He must be,” she says.
“Is something wrong?” I ask, pulling my coat on.
“No. Of course not. We got away from him.”
Even though I can't shake the feeling that something is, we have more pressing things to worry us right now. My heart aches at the thought of leaving Melvin and Father all over again. Should I go and say goodbye?
I know that if I do, I'll never want to leave.
“Why haven't any other Timeless come for you yet?" I ask, changing the subject.
Isabel seems happy that I have. "I don't know. Frank must have been assigned to me when I came here. Now that he's gone, Time is sure to send some other members of the Timeless soon. We have to watch out."
"I agree."
"And how are we going to find this rift if we can't see it?" I ask. "We don't have that ability anymore."
“We should be able to feel when we're near it.”
I remember the electric feeling I used to get—or would have used to get—when going through the rifts. And the falling. I'm not looking forward to that.
Simon ducks his head into the berth. “We need to go, ladies. Your father's already taken Melvin up to the deck. There aren't many people up there yet, and we don't want to wait until there are.”
The three of us make our way to the exit, up the staircase and past the same smoking lounge we did last night. We emerge into the new day. The sun is out and the water sparkles around us. There's the faint sound of waves and a young couple walk past us. Isabel wraps her arms around herself to protect from the biting cold. “This way,” she says, walking towards the railing that divides us from the first and second classes.
An officer patrols past us. Thankfully, it's not one of the ones that we met last night. The ones we did meet are probably busy trying to explain the golden substance on the floor to the captain. Most of the crew is still likely distracted by the hole in the front of the ship or working out how we're going to get towed to our destination. I crane my neck to see if there are any other ships in the area. I spot a small one near the bow, so they must be getting things together. I don't think we've moved since last night.
“Up here,” Isabel says, grabbing the rail of a ladder.
I check to make sure the officer isn't facing us. He's speaking with a man in a brown coat and they're both glancing out at the water. I scramble up the rungs and Simon's right behind me. The three of us climb over a closed railing, run up another set of metal steps, and we're up near the funnel.
“That wasn't too bad.” Simon stuffs his hands in his pockets and looks around the funnel. It's huge, as big around as two of my houses put together. The first one was supposed to fall during the sinking and crush hapless people in the water.
There's no one up here with us. We're certain to get reprimanded if we don't find the rift in time. I take my coat off and hand it to Isabel. “Let me feel for the rift,” I say. “Meanwhile, you put that on.”
She obliges. “Thank you. Frank came out somewhere up here,” she says. “It was night in his memory, so I'm not sure on which side of the funnel he emerged on.”
I place one hand on the funnel, bracing myself. I must be feet from the rift. I walk around the circumference of it, feeling for any tingling along my skin or any electric sensations. My heart pounds. It's worse, not being able to see where the rift is. "Still looking," I call once I'm on the other side. I check once again to make sure the butterfly is still in my dress pocket.
And then I hit a wall of electricity. Invisible static races across my skin and I back away in shock. “I've found it!” I shout. “I--”
I'm falling.
The world blurs and screams around me. I hold my breath to keep in my shrieks. There's no gold glitter this time. I can't see that anymore, but I know what's happening. The rift is so strong that it's pulled me in instantly. Colors swirl. Air blasts against my skin and I close my eyes. I think Simon back on the ship, running around the funnel and finding me gone. He'll be able to follow me. I hold onto that tho
ught.
I land and the world snaps back into place.
My hands meet cold crystal. I know the feeling well. I'm in one of the passageways in the Hub.
I breathe out and tumble along the floor. The rift has spit me out like I taste terrible. At last I skid to a stop.
I open my eyes, expecting the familiar multicolored lights and the corridor stretching away into infinity.
I push myself to my knees and I take in the long hallway, curving out of my view miles away on either side of me. Cool air envelops me, but compared to the freezing air on the Titanic, it's almost warm and inviting. Archways a couple of feet deep line up on either side of the tunnel, all clones of each other. If I didn't know better, I'd guess that they were just empty spaces put there for decoration. But I know that in each one, there's a rift that I can't see, a set of golden curtains that leads somewhere random in space and time.
But one thing is very wrong.
Everything's red. And it's foggy.
Instead of the healthy rainbow lights, the crystal has an angry scarlet glow behind it as if Time itself is angry. I've seen this before, right after we stopped Isabel's ship, the Wilhelm Gustloff, from sinking in the second world war.
Time is sick.
I've seen this before. This was the final Timeless memory of mine that I loaded onto the hair clip that's now in my dress pocket. Even if Time managed to heal itself after we saved Isabel's ship, we made it sick all over again by un-sinking the Titanic.
I don't like this. I want out of here. At the very least, I don't want to be alone here.
I face the archway that contains the rift that I must have come through. I reach out towards it and my skin tingles. The rift's still there, swishing in silence and giving off no light. Simon has got to know that I'm on the other side by now and I back up, ready for he and Isabel to fall through. I don't have to wait long. I hear a fizzling noise and the tingling sensation grows stronger. Simon appears, seemingly out of thin air, and right behind him Isabel falls, screaming, onto the floor.
“There you are,” I breathe. “I was wondering when you'd show up."
