Reversion (The Narrows of Time Series Book 3)

by Jay J. Falconer

  “Let me assure you, given the proper motivation and the right circumstances, even the great Dr. Lucas Ramsay would succumb to the pressures of the moment. There are times when sacrifices must be made and steps must be taken. Steps to ensure survival at all costs.”

  “Never in a million years. There are some lines even I won’t cross.”

  “In time, you’ll come to understand. Not everything is as black and white as you purport it to be.”

  “Is there a point to any of this? Why did you come down here?” Lucas said, feeling his temper boil his blood.

  “To observe and study. I’m a scientist, remember.”

  “So what am I, some kind of lab rat?”

  Starling didn’t answer, only tilting his head and narrowing his eyes before he turned for the door.

  “Hey, wait a minute!” Lucas snapped, running his hands across his smooth head. Starling didn’t answer, continuing his march for the door with a hurried limp.

  Lucas couldn’t contain his anger for another second, letting loose with a roundhouse left, punching the glass door, shattering his little finger in the process. He grabbed his hand and doubled over in pain, keeping his mangled finger close to his body. It was sticking out sideways at the second knuckle, swelling around the impact site. He yanked on it, bringing the bone back into alignment. He screamed when a wave of intense pain traveled from his hand to his brain.

  Lucas looked up and saw Starling standing in the doorway, looking back at him. “Oh, and one more thing, Dr. Ramsay. Remember these words: when you see the rubber spray of red, your destiny awaits in opposition. Seek the first level and you shall find your way home.”

  With that, Starling turned and disappeared beyond the door.

  “Rubber spray of red? Destiny? What the hell does that mean, you crazy bastard? Come back here, Starling, you asshole! Don’t leave me down here like this! Starling!”

  25

  A sense of wonder washed over Lucas when Masago turned the truck onto Park Avenue from Speedway Boulevard, heading through the north entrance to the sprawling campus of the University of Arizona. He’d been away from college life for so long, he’d forgotten what it meant to him to be on the property and part of the hustle and bustle of young minds still walking through life with eyes wide. He felt relevant again. Alive. He was home.

  Kleezebee leaned over Masago’s shoulder from the backseat and pointed. “Take the next right and pull into the faculty-only lot. It’s just before the building with the telescope mounted to its roof.”

  “That’s your lab?” she asked.

  “Our home away from home,” Kleezebee answered.

  “Fancy.”

  “That’s not how first-time visitors usually describe the place, but I guess I see your point,” Lucas said from the front passenger seat.

  “I’ve always imagined this would be the kind of place my dad used to work at,” she said.

  “You never visited him at work?” Lucas asked.

  “Not without security clearance. Family visits weren’t allowed.”

  “I’ve worked at a few of those establishments in my day,” Kleezebee said with a slow delivery.

  Lucas could relate. “Then again, it’s not like my mother ever dropped by to surprise Drew and me and take the nickel tour.”

  “You know she’s always welcome. I’ve offered to have Bruno drive up there and get her for you.”

  “Technically, Professor, I think the correct statement would be, she was always welcome. The future is not kind to her, or Trevor, for that matter.”

  “I’m sorry, Lucas. I didn’t know.”

  “How could you?”

  “But she’s still alive now, right?” Masago asked Lucas.

  “Yup. In Phoenix.”

  “I’d love to meet your mom. Maybe if we have time, we can go for a visit?”

  “And when she sees the changes to my face and wonders why I’m a couple years older, then what?”

  “Tell her the truth.”

  “That I’m from the future and Drew is—” he said, stopping himself. “No thanks, I’ll spare her the drama.” He leaned to his left, looking at Kleezebee in the backseat. “She still has heart problems, right?”

  Kleezebee nodded. “She’s home recuperating from surgery.”

  His mom’s condition was one of the few things that hadn’t changed. He wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or not. “That figures. It seems like the best parts of the timeline have been erased, but the worst aspects haven’t. Almost like the universe won’t let them, wanting to keep us on a path of annihilation.”

  Kleezebee didn’t hesitate. “Time finds a way.”

  “I knew you’d say that. You always do. In the future, that is.”

  “It’s good to know I’m still alive. Old dogs like me are hard to put down.”

  Masago drove through the entrance to the lot and parked the high-profile monster two rows from the front walkway. She put the transmission lever into park and turned the ignition off.

  Lucas got out of the front seat of Rocket’s truck, pulling at his shirt collar to conceal the top of his Smart Skin Suit from any students and faculty they might come across. He walked around the hood to the driver’s side where Kleezebee was standing, holding the door open for Masago. She slipped out of the vehicle, dropped down, and landed on two feet.

  “I can’t wait to see your lab,” she said.

  “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea,” Kleezebee said.

  “I agree,” Lucas said. “In theory, we should avoid my younger self and Drew. The less contact we have with people from this timeline, the better. Of course, that’s assuming any of that matters at this point. We could already be in the midst of a cascading bi-directional paradox.”

  Kleezebee grinned.

  “What?” Lucas asked him.

  “So you were paying attention in class.”

  “Yeah, most of the time. But I have to tell you, sometimes it wasn’t easy.”

  “Fair enough,” Kleezebee said.

  “What’s next, Dr. Kleezebee?” Masago said with a hint of impatience in her words.

  “We’ll need to read Bruno in, and of course, Griffith.”

  “No choice there. But the last thing we need is my younger, more volatile self to get involved.”

  “More volatile?” Masago asked.

  “Yes—more. I had a bit of an edge back then.”

  “I’ll bet that’s an understatement,” she said, smiling at Kleezebee.

  “You could say that,” Kleezebee told her.

  “Yeah, yeah. Kick a guy when he’s vulnerable. I’m a work in progress, I know. But at least I’m willing to admit it. That has to count for something.”

  Kleezebee sighed. “We’ll need to keep an eye out for Larson. I’m sure he’ll be back to deal with your assault.”

  Lucas shook his head. “Hey, wait a minute. I didn’t punch him, though I distinctly remember wanting to a couple years ago in my timeline.”

  “Well, this time you did. Do you think it’s going to matter if he sees you? Lucas is Lucas in his feeble mind. If I know him, he’s seeing blood in the water by now.”

  The three of them made their way to the entrance of the science building and went inside, with the professor leading the way. Bruno stepped from his station and approached them. He stopped, keeping his eyes solely on Lucas.

  Lucas cleared his throat. “Hey, buddy.”

  “Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit. I never expected to see you again. Not after I cleared you and your brother for entry less than an hour ago.”

  “It’s a long story,” Kleezebee said.

  “I’ll bet, sir,” the security chief said, staring at the cheek scars on Lucas’ face. “I’m guessing this is all on a need-to-know basis.”

  Kleezebee nodded. “Strictly.”

  Bruno looked at Masago. “And who might you be, miss?”

  “I’m Masago Fuji. Lucas’ girlfriend,” she said.

  Bruno smiled and slappe
d Lucas on the back. “Well how do you like that? The tick found the woodpile. I was starting to wonder if it would ever happen. Now we just need to find someone for your little brother . . . and for the other you, if I’m reading the situation right.”

  Lucas smiled. “You are.”

  “Is Larson still here?” Kleezebee asked.

  Bruno shook his head. “Left earlier.”

  Kleezebee nodded. “We’re in a hurry. I need you to wave us through.”

  Bruno called off his guards manning the security station. He brought the trio around the scanning equipment and into the main hallway of the science lab. “Do you need me to escort you, sir?”

  “Won’t be necessary. But I do need you to go to my office and fetch the material pouch from earlier and bring it to Davies’ lab. On the double. Have your men call me if our attorney friend shows up. Or anyone else, for that matter. Anyone who isn’t cleared,” Kleezebee said, putting his hands on the backs of Lucas and Masago, pushing them forward.

  “Roger that. See you kids later.”

  “Good to see you, old friend,” Lucas told Bruno before he sprinted through a connecting hallway and disappeared from sight a short minute later.

  “He seemed nice,” Masago said.

  “That guy makes me laugh. I forgot how much I missed him.”

  “I take it something happens to him?” Kleezebee asked. However, before Lucas could answer, the professor continued. “Wait, wait. Don’t answer that. The less I know, the better. Things need to unfold how they are supposed to.”

  “Yeah, whatever that means at this point. The farther I travel into this thread, the more it seems to veer off course.”

  They scurried around several corners and down a handful of corridors, then arrived at their destination ten minutes later.

  Kleezebee stepped forward and swiped his access card through the security scanner protecting Griffith’s lab.

  “Where’s your lab from here?” Masago whispered to Lucas.

  Lucas pointed at the lab doors behind them—across the hall. “That’s where all the magic happens.”

  Kleezebee entered his code and the door latch unlocked.

  “So you and your brother are inside right now?”

  Lucas nodded. “If they only knew.”

  “Davies better not be on break,” Kleezebee said, pushing at the door.

  Lucas stepped to the side of Kleezebee and saw Griffith holding a metal rod above his shoulder like a baseball bat.

  Kleezebee held up his hands. “Easy there, Ty Cobb. It’s just us.”

  Griffith put the rod on the table beside him. “I’m so sorry, Dr. Kleezebee, I thought you were someone else.” The rod rolled off the table and bounced on the floor with a reverberating set of pings.

  “Apparently,” Lucas said, bending down to grab the club rolling his way. “I think I’ll hang onto this for a while.”

  “Who were you expecting?” Kleezebee asked.

  Griffith paused, biting his lip. “Never mind. It’s not important.”

  Masago stepped forward and stood next to Lucas, wrapping her fingers inside of his.

  “Whoa,” Griffith said. “I mean, hello?”

  “I’m Masago,” she said with redness filling her cheeks. She put her free hand out for a shake. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  “All good, I hope,” he said, taking her hand and kissing it.

  She took her hand back and looked at Lucas. “Wow, a true gentleman.”

  “Grif, you’re making me look bad.”

  “So, you two are . . . together?”

  Lucas smiled.

  “Just goes to show you that even a blind squirrel can find the acorn,” Griffith said.

  “Why does everyone keep saying things like that?” Lucas asked.

  “Can we get down to business?” Kleezebee said.

  Griffith’s face ran stiff. “I assume you’re here about the meta material?”

  “Not exactly,” Kleezebee said, motioning to Lucas.

  Lucas unbuttoned his shirt and took it off to reveal the Smart Skin Suit. He popped his shoes off and removed his pants.

  “You found the rest of the X-graphite material!” Davies snapped.

  “And more,” Lucas said.

  “He’s from the future,” Masago added.

  “What?”

  “The piece of material I gave you earlier to analyze is from what’s called a Smart Skin Suit,” Kleezebee told him.

  “It’s part of our Incursion Chamber, which is used for inter-dimensional time travel,” Lucas added, wanting to move the conversation along.

  Davies looked at Lucas. “From the future?”

  “I already said that,” Masago snapped.

  Griffith’s eyes lingered on Lucas’ face. “Yes, I can see a difference. A few years, I’d estimate.”

  “Eighteen months and a handful of days, plus or minus. Though I’ve sort of lost track. It’s not easy when you’re bouncing around the cosmos like a stripper working a stage.”

  “Stripper?” Masago asked.

  “It’s just a saying.”

  “Doesn’t sound like it.”

  Griffith tugged at the fabric, rubbing it between his fingers. “Given the exotic properties of the X-graphite sample, I’m guessing that a massive electrical charge is used as a catalyst for the process?”

  Lucas nodded.

  “How does it work, exactly?”

  “We don’t have time for explanations,” Kleezebee said.

  “Right, sorry,” Griffith said, looking at the missing section of material around Lucas’ knee.

  “He was injured when I found him. Snakebite,” Masago said with a sense of pride in her voice.

  “The size and shape of the missing section indicates the earlier sample I analyzed was from a different suit,” Griffith said. “Am I right?”

  “Correct,” Kleezebee answered.

  “How many of them . . . of you . . . are there?”

  “In total, there were two hundred twelve.”

  “Were?”

  “General Alvarez and his men . . .” Kleezebee said in a matter-of-fact way.

  “Right. Right. So, what do you need from me?”

  “We need you to repair the suit.”

  “Me?”

  Kleezebee nodded.

  “I need it working to contact my people back home—in the future,” Lucas said, handing the Google Glasses to Griffith. “We’ll also need to figure out how to recharge the power core in this communications device.”

  Griffith studied the glasses. “This looks like a—”

  “Google Glass Device. Several generations from now, though, the name is changed to Google Glasses after a relaunch. I think the rebranding effort stems from the fact that the nickname, glasshole, catches on, referring to anyone wearing the controversial tech in public.”

  “I see,” Griffith said, giving the device to Lucas. “But I can’t fabricate the missing material, not without full manufacturing specs, if it’s even possible with today’s technology.”

  “We’ve got that covered. Bruno’s on his way down with the sample from my office.”

  “Excellent. I’ll need my original analysis as well.”

  “It’s in the same envelope.”

  “Can you patch it?” Lucas asked.

  “Possibly. It’ll take some time to do,” Griffith answered, then looked at Kleezebee. “I should probably mention that Mr. Larson was here earlier.”

  “What did that weasel dick want?”

  Masago laughed, looking surprised at the professor’s colorful choice of words.

  “He had a sample of the X-graphite. A different sample, and wanted it analyzed.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “I told him no; not without proper authorization. He got violent with me when I told him to leave. Then he threatened my wife. He had no right, I say. No right.”

  “What a douche,” Lucas said, turning to Kleezebee. “And you wonder why my mini-me punched hi
m.”

  “You struck him?” Davies said. “I mean, the other you?”

  “Decked his ass, from what I hear.”

  Griffith threw a pair of fake punches in the air. He smiled. “That must have felt empowering . . . and satisfying.”

  “I wouldn’t know. Though, I did get to crack his head open with a fire extinguisher in a previous timeline.”

  “How many times have you lived this day?”

  “This is number two.”

  “Interesting. So you have cognitive retention across incursions?”

  Lucas nodded.

  A triple knock rang out from the lab door. Everyone turned.

  “Bruno?” Lucas asked, waiting to see who came through the door. The door didn’t open. “Why would he wait? He has a master access card, right?”

  “He wouldn’t. He’d come straight through. I told him it was urgent,” Kleezebee responded, looking at Griffith.

  Griffith adjusted his glasses, pushing them up his nose. “It might be Lucas—the other Lucas, returning my hand truck. He borrowed it earlier.”

  Lucas pinched his eyebrows. “Already? That wasn’t supposed to happen yet.”

  “He can’t see you,” Kleezebee told Lucas.

  Lucas ducked behind one of Griffith’s lab stations, taking Masago down with him.

  “I’ll get rid of him,” Griffith said, walking to the door.

  26

  Bald Lucas put his smooth head against the door of the holding cell in the Micro Matter facility, pressing his ear against the cold, transparent surface. He couldn’t hear any sounds reverberating through the walls from outside. Starling had left him there, alone in the cell, to die of starvation. Wait, scratch that, he told himself. Dehydration would happen first. Two days, if he chose not to drink his own piss. Three or four days max, otherwise.

  First there would be extreme thirst, then dry mouth followed by sticky saliva. He’d begin to feel faint and unable to stand or sit. Severe cramping would overwhelm his gut and spread to his arms and legs as the sodium and potassium in his system rose to critical levels, unable to be flushed from his body due to the massive fluid drop. His lips and skin would wither and crack, and his tongue would swell to the size of an avocado. He’d start dry heaving when his stomach and intestines ran dry, leaving him in severe pain and unable to cry a single tear.