A Time Traveler's Theory of Relativity

by Nicole Valentine

  Doc’s expression registered defeat before he even turned around. All the muscles in his face seemed to give up at once: terror and resignation born together.

  Wells pivoted and held up the small black revolver in defense. Faith kept her eyes trained on Finn as she strode down amidst the dripping green moss. She wore a long green coat made of fabric that seemed like a shiny reflective wool, nothing that Finn had seen before. It billowed behind her, kicking up broken leaves and dried moss in its wake.

  She held up one hand toward Wells without so much as blinking. He yelped like a wounded animal. Over before it even began, the scream immediately cut off as every molecule in his body turned to rusty vapor in front of them. He became nothing but a cloud of reddish dust, gently falling down on the forest floor. It was like he he’d been obliterated by a blast from within. Finn saw rings of energy pulsing out from the space where he had been. It looked like magic, but Finn knew better. Understanding came to him as if it had been there all along: Faith had pushed Wells out of this node, molecule by molecule. Pieces of him were strewn through time, never to be put together again.

  And now she was coming for Finn.

  Gabi screamed, “Run!” She broke free from his grasp and began to tear through the trees.

  Finn had no time to stop her, no time to tell her that there wasn’t any point. He reached after her to hold her back and missed the hem of her sweater by an inch. He saw Faith hold up her other hand in Gabi’s direction and Finn screamed, “NO, DON’T!”

  A blast of wind blew by him and he watched as Gabi’s body rose into the air, as if an invisible force was gripping her by her neck. Her feet kicked violently and her face turned red.

  “Faith, no! I’ll give you whatever you want!”

  Doc was kneeling on the ground, cowering in front of this adult version of Faith with a mixture of incredulity and fear.

  Gabi’s body slammed against the nearest tree. She was twenty feet off the ground and pinned by an invisible force, but now she was at least able to breathe. Finn could see her gasping for precious oxygen.

  “Please, Faith. You came for me,” Finn begged.

  Faith was in front of him now, looming over him, a foot taller and impossibly powerful. She was decades ahead of him in everything: in knowledge, science, technology, and most of all, Traveling. She could push people out of nodes, and now she was moving atoms around at the flick of a wrist. In all his terror, he couldn’t help but feel a small pang of jealousy.

  “Tell me how you did it.” She spat the words at him. Finn felt them hot against his cheek.

  “Did what?”

  “Speak! Don’t play games! How did you Travel?!”

  Travel? That was all? He’d used the tree. She knew this. She had been there.

  “You just grab hold and hang on. That’s . . . that’s it,” he stammered.

  She leaned in close. Her green eyes would have looked so much like Mom’s if they had been full of kindness, instead of hate. They were searching his own eyes for something. Whatever she was looking for wasn’t there. She was obviously dissatisfied with him. Behind her, Doc yelled out, “Faith, you can’t. You can’t hurt them.”

  Gabi’s body rose higher against the tree and she let out a strangled yell of pain.

  Faith spun on Doc. “You! You are of no significance. You don’t even realize it yet, do you? Your plan is dead. Finn took care of that, didn’t you, darling brother? He took me this time. Thanks to him, I’m now in charge of my own future.”

  She gave Finn a sly sugary smile. Finn saw the lines on the sides of her mouth. She was older than before.

  Doc continued, “Faith, please. We never—”

  “Do you really think I need to listen to you, dear Uncle William?” She laughed coldly. The sound bounced off the trees. “You tried to use me. You tried to contain me !”

  The angrier Faith got the more Gabi writhed in pain. Faith didn’t even have to look in her direction.

  She turned on Finn. “Show me how to use the tree now, or your friend dies.”

  Chapter 30

  Finn was desperately trying to come up with ways to buy more time. All he could think about was what happened to Wells.

  “Please, Faith. Why would you care about the tree? It’s not going to work again. She made it so it only works once.” He was making up excuses on the spot, trying to stall her.

  Faith pointed with casual cruelty at Gabi, never letting her eyes off Finn. Gabi let out a desperate, strangled cry, and Finn tried to think of the answer that would save her. Words that would satisfy Faith and save Gabi didn’t exist.

  In his frustration he yelled back. “Why are you asking me anyway? I can’t Travel. Mom would be the one to know! Mom can teach you how to make a portal tree!”

  When he saw the look on her face, he realized why Faith had come back for him. She couldn’t get to Mom. She must’ve left, thinking she could come back, and had found herself locked out of the node. Mom had found a way to keep Faith out.

  “You can’t get to them, can you? You’re locked out of the node. That’s why you want the tree. Mom pushed you out of the node!”

  Faith leaned in close to his face, one arm braced against the tree behind him. “She did no such thing! She’s not capable. There is no one more powerful than me!” She was screaming at him now, and Finn could tell she was scared.

  Then he saw it. Faith’s hand, braced against the tree, had begun to shimmer. She was radiating faint waves of energy, the same way Aunt Ev and Aunt Billie had both done when they were doubling in the same node.

  Finn shuddered at the thought of two Faiths. If it was true, the second Faith had just arrived. He looked around hesitantly but saw no one.

  Faith pushed him away from the tree with tremendous force. He fell hard on a rock and heard a snap, which he was sure was one of his ribs. The pain ripped through his midsection and traveled down his right arm like a lightning bolt.

  Faith grabbed hold of the doorknobs and shouted with frustration when that didn’t work. She picked Finn up by the back of his shirt and slammed him against the tree. The blow made him lose his breath.

  “You do it. You go to her and you learn how to make a portal! NOW!”

  Anything. Anything to save Gabi.

  She screamed at him, “DO IT!”

  He did as he was told, grabbing hold. He waited for the flash and roar of light. Nothing. It wasn’t working. He looked up at Gabi, suspended in pain, and wanted to say how sorry he was that he’d brought her here, that it had come to this.

  “It doesn’t work anymore. I can’t make it work!”

  Faith stared at him carefully, reading him for any tells of deception. The shimmer on her hand was beginning to move outward, forming a halo around her fingers, moving up her arm. She seemed not to notice.

  “You know what I think?” he said. “I think someone out there is more powerful than you, and you have no idea who it is.”

  She growled at him, “You are useless! All of you! None of you are worth my time!”

  Faith pivoted toward Gabi. Or your friend dies.

  Finn blurted out, “You said you can remember all of them. Every single timeline.”

  She froze, like a deer that smells the hunter. Finn spoke to her back.

  “You know killing her won’t help you. There’s no timeline where killing her makes your life easier. I can promise you that.”

  Her shoulders stiffened, and Finn felt certain he’d only succeeded in enraging her more. He waited for the pain, waited to become a bloody mist dissipating in the forest.

  Instead, Faith walked quickly back toward the tree line, eyeing the woods around her. A small white light began to grow around her head, becoming wider until she disappeared in a blinding, pulsing orb. He wondered if that was what it had looked like when he held on to the tree. He watched, mesmerized, until he heard the sickening thud that was Gabi’s body crashing to the ground.

  I hate watching it again and again. I hate her. Do you know what it’
s like for me? No. You don’t. You couldn’t possibly.

  It never gets easier. In fact, the older I get the harder it is to reconcile all I have done. I rendered people into scattered atoms without a second thought. I left a child broken like a doll on the forest floor. And that’s just the little you’ve seen. There is so much more.

  Maybe this is my punishment. I’ll live these moments of excruciating regret over and over till I die.

  I want you to understand, I did change. I swear, I did. In my universe, at least. I don’t expect forgiveness. I just want to change what happens next. Not for me. I don’t deserve a different fate, but he does.

  Finn deserves better.

  This time, it has to work.

  Chapter 31

  Gabi was lying there, twisted and broken. Her arm was bent back at a horrible angle, her face down in the dirt. It was every nightmare come to life. Finn rushed to her side, a guttural scream of anguish fighting its way to his lips.

  Doc was immediately next to him. “Don’t move her, Finn.” His voice was shaky. “We don’t know how badly she’s injured. We need to call for help. They’ll need to stabilize her to get her off the mountain.”

  Finn’s first instinct was to jump in front of Doc and protect Gabi from him. Only he had no idea how to save Gabi and Doc did.

  Doc leaned in and put two fingers gently on her neck. “Her pulse is steady.” He took off his parka and placed it on top of Gabi.

  Heart beating, Finn thought. Not gone. Not yet gone.

  He heard Doc radioing the others in ISTA. He hated relying on this man in any way, but he was relieved that Doc could reach help. “. . . Tell them a child is seriously injured on top of Dorset Peak, needing immediate attention.”

  Finn kneeled over Gabi, brushed a small leaf free from her hair. One hot tear spilled over the rim of his eye, landed on her brown hair, and glistened there, like a star in the night sky, before disappearing into the strands.

  She didn’t stir.

  He desperately wanted her to wake up and tell him that it wasn’t that bad. He wanted her to open her eyes and see him.

  “Why isn’t she waking up?” he murmured.

  Behind him, Doc said gently, “She’s had a big blow to the head, Finn.”

  Finn turned to find Doc watching him, done with the radio. His face was pale and his gray hair was a mess.

  “Don’t say another word to me. This is all your fault.” Finn fought the urge to attack him. Make him pay for all that had gone wrong.

  “Finn, the gun wasn’t for you. Mr. Wells—he was here for Faith, to protect you from her. Aunt Billie sent us after you two—warned us Faith was coming for you, said you were in danger. We wanted to find you before she could.”

  Finn again remembered Aunt Billie’s fear of him when he’d thrust his palms up toward her in the church. Her memories of raising Faith must be terrible.

  “I know what you must think of me, Finn. I’m not a good man. I know what I’m capable of. I’ve had the distinct opportunity to be told what I have done in alternate timelines. Can you imagine that? Knowing that you’re capable of making terrible choices? Having the woman you love most in the world witness some of them and tell you what they were? No. You can’t imagine. You’re just a kid.”

  Finn wanted to argue that he wasn’t just a kid, but Doc spoke with such despair that it didn’t seem worthwhile to split that hair.

  “It was you, wasn’t it? You dove after her into the quarry that day,” Doc said.

  “Yes. Are things—different? Better?”

  “Better? I only see what I live. And my Beth”—he looked down at his hands—“she’s no longer here to tell me what the other possibilities are.” He brushed his eye and Finn saw his grief was real.

  “You stole Faith from us.”

  “I thought that I could fix what was going to happen. I thought if we just had a chance to train her—teach her how to use her immense power—if she was given the opportunity to do good, that she would become good.” He was pacing through the leaves. “Your parents, they knew that in every timeline where they raised her, she rebelled, and terrible things occurred. Beth told me. She and your mother had Traveled forward to see it.”

  This was new information. Why didn’t Mom tell him there were timelines where Faith stayed with them? Timelines where she still turned out broken, evil. He suddenly remembered the photo in Dad’s office. The timestamp wasn’t from developing the film, it was made by the camera on that day. His father somehow had a relic from another timeline—a timeline where they had Faith longer.

  And it still hadn’t been enough. “Faith’s ability is too much for a child,” Doc went on. “She can see even more than Beth and Liz combined. She can see and remember every human choice ever made or not made, the best and the worst of humanity. Liz and Beth knew that nodes were being closed, and while ISTA suspected the Others, your gran first suspected Faith. Your mother finally admitted to seeing it.” He rubbed his eyes, smearing dirt across his sweaty forehead. “Your parents decided not to train her at all. Your mother kept saying they could find a way to contain her.”

  He stopped pacing and looked directly at Finn. “I had a different plan for Faith. I was going to give her something real to do with her talent. Give her a purpose. She could help us make things right in history. I was so sure it would work.”

  Finn narrowed his eyes at Doc. “Well, it didn’t.”

  “I know there is so much of the puzzle I’m missing, Finn—but you are, too. Your gran and your mother think the timeline should be left alone. We disagree. We here in Dorset, we’ve been given a gift! We are meant to change things, not just sit by and watch atrocities play out in front of our eyes.”

  Finn couldn’t pretend he didn’t see the appeal. All the things he could change for himself, Gran, Mom. Why wouldn’t this be a gift they were supposed to use? They were special, chosen.

  But he could hear Gabi’s voice in his head, cautioning him that it wasn’t that simple. One well-intentioned change would set off a chain reaction, with consequences no one could predict. And Mom, what did she tell him? She didn’t think they should be the sole arbiters of time.

  Doc bent down next to Gabi and checked her vital signs once more.

  “Is she okay?”

  “The same.”

  Finn searched his face for reassurance and found none. There was an uncomfortable silence as they both watched Gabi. She still didn’t stir.

  “What about my dad? Where does he stand on changing the timeline?” Finn asked.

  Doc looked up at him and said, “I’m not sure. I don’t think he even knows. He agrees with me that we have some sort of responsibility. But he’s clouded by his love for you—and Faith.”

  “Aunt Billie, she’s been helping you, even when Gran refused.”

  He looked genuinely surprised that Finn knew this. “Yes. She’s done the Traveling for me. She’s a much better Traveler than she ever let on. She even offered to raise Faith as her own, hidden in time.” Finn realized that in some other timeline, that had probably ended with Faith raising her hands to Aunt Billie—an imprint that had remained in Aunt Billie’s memory. No wonder she’d been afraid of him.

  “And Aunt Ev?”

  “Solidly against us. She’s a hypocrite, though, that one.” He threw his hand dismissively into the air. “Says we need to leave the timeline alone, but can’t help stealing from her travels. Tells herself it won’t make a difference.”

  He looked up at Finn with glassy, tired eyes. “If you could change this, Finn. If you could make it so Gabi wasn’t lying here, you would. Wouldn’t you?”

  Finn’s mind immediately jumped to yes. YES, like giant neon letters blinking in front of him. Of course he would. He’d give anything to protect Gabi. He nodded, but even as he did he could see her face earlier this morning. The sun reflecting off her shiny hair. He could hear her worried voice. “Well, we wouldn’t be who we are now, would we? I mean—it’s scary to imagine me as someone totally dif
ferent.”

  “Don’t you see? We’re alike,” said Doc. “ISTA has the opportunity to protect our loved ones, along with millions of others. The only thing I’ve cared about for months is saving Beth. You can’t save someone from themselves, though. She wouldn’t stop Traveling forward . . .” His voice trailed off, but Finn knew his next thought without him saying it. She wouldn’t stop trying to save Finn.

  Finn fought the wave of sympathy he felt for Doc. He didn’t want to forgive him, but Doc knew what the word gone meant, too.

  “Anyway, this is bigger than all of us, Finn. You’re right: my plan for Faith doesn’t seem to have worked any better than the ones your parents tried. She is never all right in any timeline. There are some people, Finn, people who can never be fixed. They need to be stopped. That’s a task that only men like myself and you are up to. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  Everybody was suddenly calling him a man now. He wasn’t sure he liked what Doc meant by it.

  And yet—if Faith was capable of doing horrible things, why try to save her? Why not try to fight her? Together, as a family, they could win. It sounded like a war was what Faith wanted. Why not give it to her?

  Finn looked down at Gabi lying unconscious on the leaves. Yes, it seemed like a natural conclusion. The only logical conclusion for someone who, in every single timeline so far, turned into something twisted and wrong. Had anyone ever seen her turn out good? Mom couldn’t even admit to seeing it.

  The only solution he could see was to kill her.

  Still, forcing herself into his mind’s eye was young Faith. The one who held his hand. The one who looked back at him and understood how much he loved her. Doc was talking about ‘some people.’ That didn’t fit at all. Faith wasn’t anonymous. She was distinct, specific . . . HIS sister.

  He looked at Doc and realized he would never understand. He never Traveled. Doc could only see what Faith was now. Only moments ago Finn was on the mountain with both Faiths—his tiny, trusting and scared baby sister and his broken, angry adult twin. He understood what Traveling did to you now. Faith would always be everything to him all at once. He would not, could not, separate them.