What Tomorrow May Bring

by Tony Bertauski

  About me. About everything.

  I lay back on the foam-cushioned bench and imagined the words that I would use to explain. Hours of train ride lay ahead of me, plenty of time to choose my words and plan for station cameras and transportation. I only hoped there wouldn’t be jacker FBI agents waiting.

  ~*~

  I stole a Cubs baseball hat from a poor kid who was coming to Chicago New Metro to visit his grandma. There was no way to make up for it, so I erased the memory of the hat from his mind. I shuffled through the Union Station crowd, clutching a stolen jacket and ducking my head away from potential cameras. Halfway to the transfer station, I changed my mind and reached back to restore the boy’s true memory. Better to think he lost it, than to have a memory stolen from him, no matter how small.

  I gave a fake tally card to the station attendant and got a transfer ticket that would take me out on the T-94, with a switch to the T-41 taking me all the way to Gurnee. Ancient brownstones whizzed past my window seat, jammed up against one another. I shuddered at the idea of so many people living so close together. The sun sank below the horizon and transformed the Chicago skyline into jagged glittering teeth. I was glad I would be out of the city before it got dark.

  When I finally reached the Gurnee stop on the T-41, I was momentarily confounded. The autocab wouldn’t accept a fake tally card, and I didn’t have any real unos on me, so I ended up walking. The trim, neat yards and equally-spaced, spindly houses of my town looked the same, but my skin prickled as though every darkening shadow held a jacker agent. I reached out and swept the neighboring streets, just to be sure.

  I stopped several blocks away from my house at a park where Raf and I used to play as kids. I reached across the suburban houses to scan my home. It was one thing to suspect the Feds might stake out my house, and quite another to find two jacker agents parked outside. I slumped into a swing and pumped my legs. The street lights flickered on to hem the edges of the park with spotlights. The swings and I were hidden in the gloom.

  I brushed the agents’ minds, keeping it light so they wouldn’t sense me. They were watching the Cubs game on their phones and not paying much attention to their stakeout. I flitted across the minds inside my house and was surprised to find Seamus home, as well as my mom and dad. Of course they would have recalled my dad back from his overseas duty when this whole thing went down, but Seamus should be at school. Mom seemed to agree, as she was deep in an argument with him about returning to West Point.

  The hard marbles of the agents’ presence were jacked into both their minds, yet were strangely absent from my dad’s mind. It wasn’t because he had an Impenetrable Mind like me. I could easily have pushed past his medium-hard mind barrier, if I wanted. My dad wasn’t a linker, but he wasn’t the strongest jacker I’d come across either.

  Just average.

  My shoulders sagged. Maybe my dad wouldn’t have the answers I needed after all.

  The agents probably stayed out of my dad’s mind by the same kind of jacker code that existed in the camp—jacking into a jacker’s mind was asking for a fight. Unless he was working with them. A shiver ran down my back. No. My dad seemed to tolerate the agents’ presence in Mom’s and Seamus’s minds as a condition of staying in our home.

  I swallowed. The Feds might arrest my family too.

  I couldn’t reach any deeper into Mom’s or Seamus’s minds without alerting the agents. They weren’t very strong jackers, and I could probably knock them out before they suspected my presence. But why wouldn’t the Feds put their strongest jackers on surveillance duty? Maybe it was a trap. If I knocked them out, the Feds would swoop in and capture me. Or worse, take my family, once they knew I was watching. Make me turn myself in.

  The park grew darker as the last of the sun’s light disappeared from the day. The agents couldn’t know I was home, but I needed help and answers from my dad. He paced alone in his room, and his thoughts skittered between hatred for Agent Kestrel and ways to convince him to release me from the camp. Well, we had our feelings for Agent Kestrel in common. My dad sat down on the edge of the bed and nervously bounced his leg.

  I hesitated, afraid he might inadvertently tip off the surveillance crew outside. I took a deep breath and linked a thought to him. Dad. His mind scent reminded me of early morning dew.

  He jerked up from the bed. Kira! The thought was so strong, I was afraid he had said it aloud.

  Be quiet! They might hear you. I almost jacked in and made it a command, which made my stomach clench. I wanted answers, but not the way Molloy got them out of Simon.

  It’s okay. The agents outside aren’t monitoring my thoughts.

  I know. I wanted to explain, yet at the last second, I held back. If my dad knew what I was capable of, Kestrel could drill through his mind to find it. It was dangerous to talk to my dad at all, but I needed his help.

  Kira, where are you? he thought. I’ve been trying to get you released. How did you get out? His mind was a jumble of guesses, but I couldn’t tell him anything about that without tipping my hand to Kestrel.

  That’s not important. He reached out and searched for me, but he couldn’t sense me three blocks away in the park. His reach was the same as an ordinary jacker. And you should stop reaching for me, in case you alert the agents.

  Right. He pulled back and tried to figure out how I reached him if he couldn’t reach me. Then a dread filled him, as he wondered what else I could do that he couldn’t.

  This sparked a flare of anger that I threw at him. Why didn’t you tell me you were a jacker?

  He cringed under the force of my thoughts, and I pulled back a little. I’m sorry, Kira! We didn’t think… your mom and I thought it would be best if you didn’t know. Until you were older. And then you didn’t change, and we thought maybe…

  You thought I would be a zero, like Grandma. I didn’t try to hide my bitterness. No sense letting the family mental reject in on the big family secret: hey Kira, not only aren’t you a reader, you’re not a jacker either! Sorry about your luck. In some twisted way, maybe they were trying to spare my feelings, but it only felt like lies.

  Grandma O’Donnell was a jacker, Kira, he thought.

  My thoughts turned upside down. What?

  She was one of the very first ones, and a strong jacker, too, he thought. But she saw what happened to her dad. You remember the experiments the government did on Great-Grandpa Reilly and the other early readers—she didn’t want that happening to her.

  So, she pretended to be a zero? For her whole life?

  Yes, he thought. It upset your mom a lot.

  Because she was embarrassed. I know. The bitterness came back, a foul taste in my mouth. No one had ever said it out loud, but I had always known. Appearances were important to my mom, even in her semi-heremita lifestyle. I had embarrassed her, just like her mom.

  No! Anger colored his thoughts. Because your mom had to keep it a secret from everyone. You know how hard it is for readers to keep secrets.

  A dull ache pulled at my chest.

  My reader-mom had to keep Grandma O’Donnell’s jacker-secret her entire life. No wonder my mom kept her distance from people outside the family. Grandma’s secret had cost my mom a lot.

  The stars peeked through the nighttime haze at the park. If I had known my mom was so good at keeping secrets, I would have trusted her with mine. And if she knew Grandma’s secret, then she must have known Dad’s too.

  So when Mom met you…

  I knew she could keep my secret as well, he finished.

  But you didn’t think I could! Never mind that I had lied to them; they had lied to me first.

  You were young, and we thought you might still change, he thought. It’s hard enough for adult readers to keep secrets, but for changelings it’s practically impossible. We couldn’t have your changeling thoughts running around the school.

  Well, thanks for nothing! I pulled out of his head, all the way back to my own. The swing had come to a rest, and my feet dragged in the
wood chips piled below it. I kicked them, and they flew out and disappeared into the millions of wood chips filling the park. I knew Dad was right, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. I curled my fists around the swing chains and wondered if they had told Seamus. Did he know the big Moore family secret, all this time? That generations of mutant jackers filled our family tree?

  My mouth fell open. Family tree.

  I reached across the quiet suburban blocks and linked back into my dad’s mind. Dad…

  Kira! Oh, thank god! Kira, please, please don’t leave again! His mind was in a full-blown state of panic. I almost lost you before. Please don’t disappear like that. I’m sorry we didn’t tell you the truth. We should have. We should have warned you…

  Dad! I cut off his rambling thoughts. Dad, it’s okay. I get it. You didn’t know if I could keep the secret or not. My mind raced ahead. I think I understand now. Why I’m… I didn’t want to say what I was. There were some secrets I had to keep. Why I’m different. Jackers don’t always have jacker parents, right? Laney and Simon’s parents hadn’t been jackers, but apparently my family was filled with them.

  Right, he thought. The government’s not sure if it’s genetic or not. It could be the environment changing everyone again, like the first readers. Or maybe both—maybe the genetic component only gets expressed under certain conditions.

  But Seamus isn’t a jacker, right? I needed to make sure my miniature theory held up to the facts. And neither is Mom.

  That’s true… he thought. What are you getting at, Kira?

  I’m the only female in our family that has jackers on both sides of the family.

  The same gears were clicking into place in my dad’s head. So, if there was such a thing as a jacker gene, and it was carried on the female X chromosome…

  I just got a double dose of it. Finally, something was making sense in the world. Which is why my abilities are… different.

  My dad’s mind raced as he agreed it was possible. A picture of Agent Kestrel flashed through his mind, which reminded me I didn’t actually know what my dad did for the Navy.

  Don’t tell me you’re working with Agent Kestrel. He’s the one who sent me to the camp in the first place.

  Of course not! A wave of disgust flavored his thoughts.

  Can’t you do something to stop him? Use some of your Navy connections to keep him from sending jackers to the camp?

  Kestrel’s too powerful, he thought. I couldn’t even convince the FBI to release you! Kestrel’s the head of a Task Force conducting experiments on jackers.

  Experiments. Maybe my dad knew where Kestrel had sent Laney. Dad, where does Kestrel take the jackers he experiments on?

  I don’t know, he thought. All I know is that he’s in charge of the program, and he’s on a personal mission to stop jackers. He’s been searching for a genetic link for some time. The government wants to keep more jackers from being made, or born, or whatever. They want to control it. My dad’s mind filled with horror. Kira, you could be the genetic link he’s looking for.

  The temperature around me seemed to drop ten degrees. I had just put the biggest secret of all into my dad’s mind. Right where Kestrel could find it.

  Dad… I didn’t want to link what I was thinking to him.

  My dad’s mind was cranking to a panicked state again. Kira! he thought. Kira, he can’t find out about this.

  Dad, no… I couldn’t do it. My stomach clenched just thinking about it.

  You have to erase that idea from my mind. His thoughts were firm, resolute.

  My mouth had gone dry in the cool New Metro night air. I didn’t want to do it. Not even a little.

  Can you do it, Kira? my dad insisted.

  I swallowed down the dryness. Yes.

  Then do it. Now.

  I tried desperately to find some other way to keep the idea from falling into Kestrel’s hands. My father’s thoughts showed that Kestrel paid him regular visits to see what he knew. Kestrel had too much power over him. There would be no keeping it a secret.

  So I did it. My stomach twisted as I unwound our conversation, back to the point where my dad was apologizing profusely about keeping dangerous secrets from his baby girl. The one he had tried so hard to protect. The one he was protecting now, by having me erase part of his mind. A lump rose in my throat.

  Kira, please, please don’t leave again! His mind had rewound back into panic. I almost lost you before. Please don’t disappear like that. I’m sorry we didn’t tell you the truth. We should have. We should have warned you…

  Dad, it’s okay. You didn’t know if I could keep the secret or not.

  The relief in his mind tore at me. That he didn’t know what secret I was keeping. That he couldn’t ever know. I know you can keep these secrets now, Kira, he thought. You could still join the jacker bureau. I’m sure they would take you. It’s the only way; you know that, right? You could even work with me in Naval Intelligence. We need strong jackers there, and you could do good things. Positive things. You would be a tremendous asset to your country, Kira. But you need to turn yourself in.

  The tears in my eyes made all the woodchips run together, like one big lumpy mass of destroyed trees lurking outside the spotlights of the street lamps. I can’t do that, Dad. Give Mom my love, okay? Seamus, too. I pulled out of his mind so I wouldn’t have to listen to any more of his impassioned pleas. My heart sank like a stone, and tears rolled off my cheeks onto my dirt-stained shorts.

  Going home wasn’t an option for me anymore.

  ~*~

  I wasn’t quite sure how I ended up in front of Raf’s house.

  The walk from the park was a haze, as though my mind had been emptied of everything but echoes. Like Simon’s mind before his death. Like I was fading away. I shivered and pulled my oversized cargo jacket tighter around me.

  My dad couldn’t help me. I couldn’t go home. I was on my own.

  Simon was right after all. The best we could hope for was a life on the run. Go somewhere and disappear. Blend in. Pass for a reader. Hope that the Feds never caught up to me.

  Anger boiled some life into me. Maybe I couldn’t go home. Maybe Kestrel had too much power for my dad to stop him. But I was something Kestrel didn’t expect.

  I was different.

  It was time to make that count. Time to stop the horrors that Kestrel was putting the changelings through. I’d made a promise, and I was going to do everything I could to keep it. I wasn’t at all sure I could find Laney or get the others out of the camp without getting sent back there myself. But I was going to try.

  Before I did, I had to make things right with Raf. I might not get another chance.

  The brightly lit windows on the top floor of Raf’s house told me he was awake. There were no jacker agents keeping guard over Raf. Maybe they didn’t think Raf meant that much to me.

  They were wrong.

  I brushed the minds inside Raf’s house. Mrs. Santos was watching a Brazilian soap opera and weeping at some awful love scene. She probably wouldn’t notice me sneaking up the front stairs, even if I didn’t jack her thoughts away. Raf was on the third floor in his room, listening to that crazy synchrony music he likes. Cantos Syn.

  I swept the neighborhood as well, finding nothing and no one out of place. Just to be sure, I pulled my hat lower and tucked in my chin as I crossed the empty street. Stymied for a moment by the locked front door, I sighed and jacked Mrs. Santos to come downstairs to unlock it. Once she returned to the star-crossed lovers on the sim-cast, I opened the door and tiptoed up the three flights to Raf’s room.

  He hadn’t heard me come up, with his wireless ear buds cranked to eardrum-damage mode. He hummed the song in his mind, some musically tortured thing about loving and losing. The scent of linen and fresh spring air seeped into my mind, and somehow it fit him perfectly. All the words I had conjured on the train had vanished.

  I took a deep breath and stepped into his room.

  His mouth dropped open. “Kira!” He jumpe
d up from the bed where he had been sprawled and tugged the ear buds out. They stopped buzzing when he tapped them. “What…? How did you…?” He wavered, then stood straighter. “You’re back.” The last part was an accusation. An image sprung up in his mind of me and Simon, kissing and running our hands over each other. Seeing Simon alive again, if only in Raf’s mind, made my throat close up.

  There was no point putting off the inevitable, so I linked a thought to him. I’m back.

  Raf’s eyes went wide. He took a half step back and bumped into the bed. I can read you now… His thoughts swirled around questions he had been asking himself ever since I had disappeared. Why had I run away with Simon? Why had I picked Simon over him? He tried to push those thoughts aside and directed one thought to me. So, did Simon get tired of you and send you home? His thoughts were like tiny knives stabbing my heart.

  Simon’s dead. I blinked back the tears that pricked my eyes. Crying over Simon in front of Raf would be a tragic mistake.

  What? Raf took a tentative step toward me, then stopped. I wished he would close the five feet between us and hold me in his arms, but anger and confusion held him back. What happened? Are you okay?

  Was I okay? No, I wasn’t. Not in the slightest. I pulled away from the stray daggers of thoughts in his mind and struggled with what to tell him. He frowned like he was trying to hear my thoughts, but of course he couldn’t. He never would unless I wanted him to. I shivered and wrapped my arms around myself. My mind sputtered, and I tried to summon the right thing to say by staring at the floor.

  “Kira, I can’t hear you anymore. What’s wrong? I don’t understand.”

  I couldn’t keep the tears from falling in small splats on the wooden floor, and suddenly Raf was wrapping his arms around me. I sobbed into his shirt, bunching it in my fists and pressing it into my eyes. “It’s okay. It’s okay,” he said softly, holding me tighter. “Whatever’s wrong, we’ll figure it out.”