by C. J. Hill
Of course she remembered. She’d had enough free time in her cell to think about every moment she’d spent with Echo. She stopped struggling and looked at him, still suspicious.
“I helped you dye your hair,” he said. “You wanted red so you could be a real redhead. I said you should do red and gold stripes because plain red was no longer in fashion.”
Sheridan stared at him without speaking. Could Reilly know those things?
“I’m not Echo,” he went on. “You thought I was—everyone thought I was–but I’m Joseph. Echo was part of the Dakine, and when they ordered my death, he switched places with me to save my life. I had to pretend to be him so the Dakine wouldn’t kill me.”
Sheridan thought of the things about Echo that hadn’t made sense—how he knew things about the DW that only Joseph had known. How he wouldn’t tell her why he wanted to leave the city. This new information snapped together in Sheridan’s mind like an unexpected puzzle piece. “Joseph,” she said, testing the word. “You were Joseph all along?”
He nodded—Joseph nodded. “You understand why one twin would pretend to be another to save their twin’s life?”
Yes, she understood. She had done it for Taylor. Maybe Reilly had finally realized this. Maybe he wanted a confession from her. She edged away from Joseph. “What did we eat for breakfast the first day Taylor and I came to the Wordlab?”
Joseph gave her an incredulous shrug. “I barely remember what I had for breakfast yesterday. That was a month and a half ago.”
“What was something else we talked about then?”
“You told me about your horses in Tennessee,” he said. “Breeze and Bolt.”
A chill spread down Sheridan’s back and lodged deep inside her. She shook her head and took another step away from him. “I never told you about my horses. How do you know about them?”
He shut his eyes, wincing, then opened them again. “You’re right. You told me that later, in Santa Fe, but when I changed the timestream, it hadn’t happened.” He went on then, telling her a story of how they had escaped and gone with the DW to Santa Fe. He and Taylor had come back to Traventon to destroy the QGPs. Only Joseph didn’t destroy them. He had used them to bring Echo back and by doing so had inadvertently changed time.
If it was a hoax, it was a creative one. Sheridan couldn’t think of any reason Reilly would come up with this story. Unless he was using it to explain away the problems and inconsistencies in the program that he knew would crop up. If a character accidentally gave information he shouldn’t have known—hey, blame it on the change in the timestream.
Joseph took Sheridan’s hand, gently running his thumb across the back of it. “I don’t expect you to forgive me for what I’ve done, for what I’ve put you through. I shouldn’t have risked your life.” His gaze dropped to her hand. He held on to it more tightly. “I’m sorry for all the pain you’ve suffered, and for every single memory you’ve lost.”
Sheridan had a sudden desire to put her arms around Joseph, to relax into a hug and tell him it was all right. She wanted to believe him, to believe this. But she wouldn’t let hope seep through her. Not yet. “What did we do after you gave me the picture of Santa Claus?”
He ought to remember that event.
“This,” Joseph said, and pulled her closer. He slid one arm around her back. He ran his other hand through her hair, tangling his fingers in it. Then he leaned down and kissed her. At first it was gentle, his lips brushing across hers as though whispering something precious. More I’m sorrys.
She leaned in to him, let his arms envelop her. His lips were urgent now. This kiss had gone beyond I’m sorry and had turned into I need you.
It was proof he was real, that all of this was real. Then again, Taylor had known about the kiss. She could have told Reilly. She could have told Reilly any of the things Joseph had just said. Sheridan pulled away from Joseph. “Um . . . yes. I don’t recall our kiss being quite that intense.”
He took hold of her hand again. “That came later in Santa Fe too.”
“Sounds like an interesting place.”
“They have horses there. You volunteer at the stables. Or at least you did.” He gave her a rueful smile. “I guess none of them will remember you when we go back.”
Horses. Another piercing ray of hope.
The door slid open and Sheridan turned, expecting to see a med of some sort. Instead, Taylor came in. Her hair was forest green, her face a patchwork of browns and greens. A guy followed her into the room. He had to be Echo; he looked like Joseph in camouflage.
Taylor let out a sound that was half gasp, half cry, and hurried across the room. She flung her arms around Sheridan and hugged her.
“Are you okay?” Taylor asked, holding Sheridan away for a moment. “You’re skinny. They starved you, didn’t they?”
“No,” Sheridan said. “They just put me through supermodel training.” She never took anything anyone said during a VR program too seriously. It helped her keep her emotions from becoming involved.
Taylor kept staring at her and then burst into tears. Taylor didn’t cry easily. Which meant she was either really emotional or Reilly had gotten her personality wrong again.
Sheridan watched her sister carefully. “What were our brothers’ names?”
Taylor let out a gasp and turned to Joseph. “You told me they didn’t give her a memory wash.”
“I know their names,” Sheridan said. “I’m seeing if you do.”
“Of course, I do,” Taylor said. “Justin and Jake.”
Joseph let out a sigh. “You still don’t believe this is real, do you?”
Sheridan took a step sideways so that she could see everyone better. “I’ve spent most of the last month escaping. I’ve already had the chip removed half a dozen times, and I’ve seen all of you more than once. Well,” she said, gesturing at Echo, “you’re new.”
Echo gave her a half smile. “I would have been around earlier, but apparently I was dead.”
“We’ve all been busy,” Sheridan said.
Taylor put her hand to her chest. “I can prove I’m your sister. Ask me anything.”
Sheridan thought for a moment. “What was the color of my bedspread?”
“White with little pink flowers.”
“Our fourth-grade teacher’s name?”
“We weren’t in fourth grade together.”
“Why did I sprain my ankle last year?”
“Okay,” Taylor said, drawing out the word, “that wasn’t my fault. The other skier distracted me. You should have noticed I was talking to him and not paying attention to you.”
“You ran over me, Taylor.”
“He was really cute.”
Sheridan smiled, then let the smile fall away. “Reilly captured you too. You could have told him all this.”
“Yeah,” Taylor said, tilting her chin in exasperation, “because that’s the sort of thing he asked me about—disastrous flirting experiences while skiing.”
And then the big test. The one that almost hurt to say because it could mean her hope would pop like a bubble. “Are you going to ask me anything about the QGP design?”
“It wouldn’t do me much good,” Taylor said, “since I’m the one who invented it.”
This wasn’t a bubble. This was real. Sheridan let the relief pour over her, let it saturate ever dry corner of her mind. She hugged Taylor, holding on to her with trembling arms. She didn’t want to ever let go.
NOT LONG AFTERWARD, ONE of the nurses brought in tomato soup and sesame-seed crackers for Sheridan. She sat on her bed, taking slow sips while she told Taylor, Joseph, and Echo everything that had happened to her.
“So,” Taylor said, when Sheridan finished with her story. “I was worried you were being tortured, but mostly you were running around with a hot guard?”
Sheridan took another sip of her soup. “Mostly I was stuck in a cell listening to government propaganda. The hot guard was only there some of the time.”
T
aylor let out an offending-sounded sniff. “Reilly hit me thirty seconds after he started questioning me and didn’t stop until you told him you invented the QGP. But you—you got wined and dined by some male model?”
Sheridan shrugged. “I can’t help it. You tick people off quickly.”
Taylor normally wouldn’t have left that sort of statement alone, but she didn’t argue it this time. She just let out a long breath. “It’s amazing they can put a chip in your brain that makes you experience a different reality.”
“It’s amazingly awful,” Sheridan said.
Echo was sitting on a chair next to Taylor’s. “People go to VR centers for fun—to explore places, be characters in stories—fly, if you want to. We’ll take you to do a recreation program sometime. You’ll see it isn’t all bad.”
Sheridan shook her head. “I don’t ever want to leave reality again.”
“When you say Tariq kissed you,” Joseph said, still clearly stuck on that part of her story, “what exactly do you mean? Do you mean you kissed him back—that you were”—he rolled his hand, searching for the right phrase—“that you actually liked him?”
“Well, he wasn’t bad as far as guards went,” Sheridan said. “He did give me chocolate.”
“I gave you chocolate too,” Joseph said.
She glanced at him over her spoon. “When?”
“All right, not in this timestream, but I gave you some in the last one.”
Sheridan took a sip of soup. “It doesn’t count if it’s not in this timestream.”
“I’ll give you more as soon as we get to Santa Fe.”
Echo shook his head at his brother and made disappointed tsking sounds.
“What?” Joseph asked him.
“All my lessons on the art of flirting have been completely wasted on you.” Echo waved his hand in Joseph’s direction. “You’re trying to buy her affection like it was a store item. What are you going to do next, offer her jewelry if she agrees to kiss you?”
Joseph raised an eyebrow at Sheridan. “Would that work?”
Sheridan took another sip of her soup. “What sort of jewelry?”
“I’ll let you pick it out,” Joseph said.
Echo looked upward. “Absolutely pathetic.”
Taylor checked the time on her comlink. “Are the meds discharging Sheridan soon?”
Echo and Joseph gave her identical looks of perplexity. “Discharge?” Echo asked. “You mean the nasty stuff that comes out of an infected wound? Sheridan doesn’t have any of that, does she?”
“No,” Joseph said. “In the twenty-first century, discharge meant firing a gun.”
“Well, that’s obviously not it,” Echo said. “Taylor wouldn’t ask if the meds were shooting her sister.”
Taylor leaned toward Sheridan. “This is the sort of scintillating conversation you’ve missed in the last month and a half.” Then to Echo and Joseph she said, “I meant when can we leave?”
“As soon as Sheridan is ready,” Joseph said. He leaned over to see the progress she’d made on her soup. “Are you still hungry?”
“No.” Sheridan couldn’t help it that her voice wavered with emotion. She didn’t do anything to stop the tears forming in her eyes. “I’m full.”
Chapter 39
Taylor hadn’t realized how much stress she was under until she felt it silently slip away. She sat watching her sister eat soup and couldn’t think of anything she’d ever seen that was quite as wonderful. Sheridan was safe. She was going to be all right. Not the same, Taylor knew—a person couldn’t go through a month and a half in a detention center and be the same—but Sheridan was going to be all right. And judging from the glances she kept sending Joseph’s way, the new timestream would probably end up at the same place the old one had gone.
While Sheridan finished up her meal, Taylor volunteered to go get the backpacks. Then she volunteered Echo to come with her. Joseph absently said, “I’ll help too.”
He stood, but Taylor waved for him to sit back down. “We can do it,” she said. “Someone should stay with Sheridan.”
Joseph sat back down without further encouragement.
Taylor walked out the door and Echo followed her. After the door slid shut behind them, she stopped in the hallway. She had meant to say something. Instead she found herself just standing there, staring at Echo’s torso.
If Echo thought this was strange, he didn’t comment about it. He put his hands in his pockets, a casual gesture. “She seems nice, your sister. She reminds me of you.”
Taylor looked at his face to see if he was serious. He smirked at her.
“Sheridan reminds a lot of people of me. It’s part of that whole identical-twin thing.”
“I know,” he said, chuckling. “I finally got to use that line on someone else. You don’t know how many times I’ve heard it.”
Taylor tilted her head. “Does Sheridan really remind you of me?”
“No,” he said. “She seems naturally kind, charitable, and tenderhearted—qualities you’re clearly lacking.”
He was laughing again, so Taylor gave him a playful push. “I never should have told you about that.”
Echo grabbed hold of her hand. “Yes, you should have.” He pulled her a step closer. “Because I want to know everything about you.”
Taylor smiled, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him. It occurred to her, as he kissed her back, that she should have given him a choice in the matter. It had been presumptuous to assume he still wanted to kiss her. But he didn’t appear to mind. He wound his arms around her waist and pulled her closer. He was warm and strong and made her feel happy.
When he finally lifted his head, he kept his arms around her. “So does this mean you’ve forgiven Joseph for bringing me back?”
Taylor let her fingertips brush through the ends of Echo’s hair. “Who could blame Joseph for wanting to save his brother? It was a moving, generous thing to do.”
Echo laughed, then bent down and kissed her again.
Chapter 40
Sheridan loved being out in the forest, loved seeing the sunshine lighting up the leaves, making everything glow around her. Birds chattered in the trees, and the earth smelled alive and welcoming.
They rode horses single file, and no one talked because their guide didn’t want them to draw the attention of vikers. They didn’t reach the next base—another underground one—until the forest had grown cool and shadows dimmed everything.
At dinner they were finally able to talk again. They sat at a table eating a rehydrated pasta dish that wasn’t half bad considering it had looked like beige Styrofoam until they’d poured hot water onto it. Ren and Lee mostly talked to each other, discussing things they were going to say to the council when they returned. While they ate, Taylor and Joseph told Sheridan and Echo the things that had happened in the first timestream.
“I figured out how to contact the DW?” Sheridan asked when they were done. “Not my genius sister?” She speared a forkful of pasta. “I’m not going to let you forget that, even if I don’t remember it.”
“Great,” Taylor said.
“I saw the city wreckage,” Sheridan added, suddenly remembering this fact. “I went that way in a VR program once. I thought I recognized it. Is that why—because I really had been there?”
Taylor, Joseph, and Echo all sat for a moment pondering the question, their food forgotten. Sheridan could nearly see the physics equations running through their minds.
“It doesn’t seem possible,” Taylor said, “but then, who knows why people have déjà vu or what happens to experiences when a timestream is switched. Perhaps people can experience ghost memories, just like people who’ve lost limbs can still feel ghost limbs.”
“Memories may be made of a type of matter,” Echo agreed. “Perhaps they leave an imprint in the time continuum—like light that still travels after a star is destroyed. Perhaps you experienced an echo in there.”
“Time has a curve to it,” Joseph added. “
Perhaps . . .” He didn’t say more. He just looked hopeful. “Was there anything else that seemed like a memory?”
Sheridan flushed and poked at her food. “I dreamed once that I was sitting with you on a green couch. We were, um, talking.”
“Bright green?” Joseph asked. “Sort of ugly?”
“Yes,” Sheridan said.
“That’s my couch,” Joseph said happily. “Anything else?”
She shook her head. “Do you think more memories might come back?”
“I hope they will,” he said.
After that, Echo and Taylor related the things that had happened to them while they were in Traventon. Taylor grew somber when she talked about Xavier and angry when she talked about Allana. Joseph, Sheridan noticed, clenched his teeth when anyone mentioned Allana’s name. Although when the story was done, all he said about her was “I hope she has better luck with the Dakine this time around.”
“The Prometheus Project worked great,” Echo told Joseph, changing the subject. “Granted, it worked against us, but it still worked great.”
Joseph finished off a bite of pasta. “You should have made it mobile. My model saved you from the Dakine.”
“I admit your model is better,” Echo said. “If you only need to use it once. The problem is, if you’re running from the government or the Dakine—yeah, you’re going to need it more than once.”
Joseph took a sip of water and leaned back in his chair. “You just don’t want to admit mine works better.”
“Better is a subjective term,” Echo said.
Taylor’s gaze bounced between the two of them. “Are you always this competitive?”
“No,” Echo said. “Sometimes we’re worse.”
Joseph laughed, a sound of happiness without any competitiveness. He smiled at his brother, watching him for a moment. “Don’t ever die on me again.”
Echo grinned back. “I hadn’t planned on making it a habit.”
They were all so happy that it was easy for Sheridan to relax, to shed any dark thoughts that pressed in on her. She was safe. She was free. But that night, Sheridan couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t even try.
