Revealed

by Margaret Peterson Haddix

  He really didn’t have any hope of lunging at Hodge and grabbing the Elucidator from him, and then also grabbing baby Katherine from the floor before Gary or Hodge stopped him. And there was no way Jonah was leaving Katherine behind.

  “We’ll give him a moment to get over the timesickness, and then I’ll bring him through,” Hodge said.

  Who were they talking about?

  Hodge picked up baby Katherine and began climbing down the stairs.

  “Kath—where—?” Jonah started to protest, but Gary pressed his hand harder than ever against Jonah’s face.

  “Believe me, your sister is going to be better off this way,” Gary growled in Jonah’s ear. “Don’t mess up our plan.”

  “I don’t know your plan!” Jonah protested, his words muffled by Gary’s hand. “I don’t know what’s going on!”

  “I thought you would have figured it out by now,” Gary muttered. “Do I really have to spell everything out? You’re the bait, of course. You’re the reason our new pilot is willing to fly our planeload of babies to the future for us. Because he thinks that will save you.”

  Jonah stared blankly at Gary.

  JB? Jonah wondered. Would JB betray everything he believes in and everything he’s worked for as a time agent to save me?

  Jonah didn’t think so. He thought JB had his limits—and anyway, as far as Jonah knew, JB was still stuck in 1932. There were plenty of other people who cared about Jonah: his parents, Katherine, Angela, several of the other missing children from history. But Jonah didn’t think any of them were in any position to help him. His parents were knocked out, Katherine was knocked out and just a baby at the moment . . .

  Gary shook Jonah impatiently.

  “Who would want to save you who’s already a pilot?” he hinted.

  And then Jonah understood. Gary was talking about Charles Lindbergh. Gary and Hodge were using Jonah as bait, to get Lindbergh to fly the planeload of babies to the future for them. Gary and Hodge would get their billions from baby selling after all.

  And Charles Lindbergh would get his toddler back.

  He would get Jonah, un-aged and time-traveled back to 1932.

  THIRTY-ONE

  “But I’m already on that plane!” Jonah protested, squirming against Gary’s grip. “Why wouldn’t Lindbergh just pick me up from my seat on that plane and go back to 1932 and leave everyone else behind?”

  Jonah was partly just thinking aloud, in shock. But there was also a part of his brain already calculating, If I can get Gary to doubt their plan, maybe he’ll make some mistake that will stop everything—that really will save me. And Katherine. And all the other kids on the plane.

  Gary just looked bored. He didn’t even bother to flex his muscles to hold on tighter.

  “You aren’t going to be on the plane this time around,” he said. “Let’s just say your moment in history isn’t over yet.”

  Because I never went back to my original time and fixed the problems of the past, Jonah thought numbly. All the other kids did. They’re taken care of. Taking them out of the past doesn’t cause any problems with history anymore. Everything that Katherine and I did, everything JB and the other time agents did—it’s just going to end up helping Gary and Hodge!

  Jonah was trying to get his brain to move along to another dilemma—should he be trying to figure out what Gary and Hodge had done with the baby version of himself back in the 1930s, if they hadn’t put him on the plane? But then he heard footsteps on the stairs, coming toward them. Gary pinched Jonah’s arm. Or maybe it was the warning poke of a needle.

  “We’re going to show you to Lindbergh so he trusts us,” Gary whispered. “So he’ll believe that when he gets back from the future, you’ll be waiting for him in 1932. But if you say or do anything that messes up our plans, I’ll have this needle in your arm so fast you won’t know what hit you. And then—pow.” He made a motion with his hand that was probably supposed to look like a person fainting. Or dying. “Don’t expect me to care what happens to you then.”

  Jonah couldn’t think of a plan that would be worth the risk of Gary knocking him out or killing him. He couldn’t think of a plan at all.

  Hodge and Lindbergh appeared at the top of the steps. Jonah wasn’t too surprised to see that Lindbergh was now wearing a more modern uniform, identical to the navy blue ones he’d seen pilots wearing out in the terminal only moments ago. Lindbergh was even carrying the same kind of black roller bag that those pilots had carried.

  Gary took his hand off Jonah’s mouth, but he kept a tight grip around Jonah’s shoulders. And Jonah could feel the prod of the needle—now behind his back, the tip just touching the skin through his pullover sweater.

  “As you see, your son did think like a Lindbergh—he figured out to come here to meet you,” Hodge was saying. “He just didn’t realize that we had complete tracking capacity on that Elucidator. Or that you still have a noble duty to carry out before the two of you can be reunited for good.”

  “Dad,” Jonah said, and that sounded completely wrong. He started over again. “I mean, Father . . .”

  What was he supposed to say? What could he say that would prevent him from spending the rest of his life as some stranger everyone thought of as Charles Lindbergh’s son? What could he say that would prevent Chip and Andrea and all the other missing kids Jonah was friends with from spending their entire lives growing up in the future? What could he say that would rescue Katherine, JB, Angela, and Jonah’s twenty-first century parents?

  “Can’t I give my father a good-bye hug?” Jonah appealed to Gary and Hodge, because at least that would buy him a few more seconds to think about what to say. And—oh yeah—it would also give him a chance to whisper something privately to Lindbergh.

  But Hodge must have figured that out too.

  “Now, now, Jonah, you with your modern sensibilities!” he scolded. “You should know that the Lindberghs weren’t hugging types.” Now he looked toward Charles Lindbergh. “Colonel, didn’t your wife leave instructions for the nanny to avoid hugging and coddling your child too much, so he wouldn’t be spoiled?”

  “She did,” Lindbergh said, and he seemed to be speaking through clenched teeth. “I believe that was the standard policy.”

  But in that one moment Gary and Hodge were both looking at Lindbergh. Lindbergh was still gazing toward Jonah, so Jonah took a risk: He decided to mouth a message to Lindbergh.

  Don’t trust them, Jonah said, moving his lips with great precision but not making a sound. And then, because there was a very good chance that the next time Jonah saw Charles Lindbergh, Jonah would have no memory of the person he’d been for the past thirteen years, Jonah added just as emphatically, just as silently, I’m not your son. I’m Jonah Skidmore.

  Lindbergh’s expression didn’t change, but Jonah wasn’t sure if that was because he was trying to be careful around Gary and Hodge, or because he hadn’t understood what Jonah was saying. Or maybe he hadn’t even noticed Jonah’s lips moving. That was possible too.

  “The plane is just pulling up to the gate now,” Hodge said. “Colonel Lindbergh, it’s a shame we don’t have time to show you around the entire airport, to see the state of aviation nearly a century after you started flying. Maybe another time? Or maybe you’ll be more interested in the aviation in my time period, in the future?”

  Still carrying baby Katherine, he shoved open the door out into the main part of the terminal. Lindbergh followed close behind.

  Gary held Jonah back from the door as it slammed shut.

  “Is the plane here now?” Jonah hissed at Gary.

  Jonah strained toward the stairwell window Hodge had been looking out earlier, and Gary let him pull both of them in that direction. Jonah pressed his face against the glass.

  Most of his view was blocked by the Jetway extending out from gate 2B. But Jonah could see that a small plane was just rolling up on the other side of that Jetway. The plane looked like it was going too fast; then it jerked to a stop that s
eemed almost impossibly sudden.

  That’s what Angela remembered seeing, Jonah thought. That’s exactly what she described, when she told Chip and Katherine and me about the plane. She’s probably watching this right now from over at gate 3.

  Jonah had more of a front-row view: He could see the seats inside the plane—the back few rows, anyway. They were odd contraptions that seemed to hold the tiny babies inside completely immobile no matter how much the plane jerked. Jonah blinked—no, now they were just regular airplane seats, each holding the kind of baby seat he remembered from old home movies of him and Katherine.

  Everything changed that fast? he marveled.

  “Did Hodge just—” he began, even though he couldn’t see any sign of Hodge or Lindbergh through the plane’s windows.

  “We had the plane set to do that automatically,” Gary said. “And the time agency thought we weren’t careful enough about protecting time. Who are the true time heroes now?”

  He snorted as if that question really amused him. But he kept his grip on Jonah as strong as ever.

  “The FBI’s going to get involved,” Jonah said, because he could fight back against Gary with words, even if he had no hope of breaking away physically. “This whole airport’s going to be a time disaster area. After Angela steps on that plane and sees the babies, there’s going to be thirteen years of Damaged Time. No time traveler’s going to be able to get in or out.”

  It occurred to him to wonder if Gary and Hodge were dead certain about the exact moment that Damaged Time began. Was it when Angela stepped onto the plane? Or when she and everyone else started pulling babies out into the airport? Or when the babies all went to new homes, changing thirty-six families’ lives?

  Or will it just be thirty-five families’ lives, if I’m not on that plane? Jonah wondered. He winced at the thought.

  “Oh no, Damaged Time,” Gary mocked, taking his left hand off Jonah just long enough to put it up to his face in a gesture of mock terror. “For thirteen years!”

  “I’m serious,” Jonah insisted, trying to stay focused on arguing with Gary. “When does it start? How much time do we have before you and Hodge and Katherine and I have to get out of here?”

  Gary started laughing.

  “You’re really still worried about that?” he asked. “Don’t you see? If Lindbergh takes that planeload of babies off to the future, there is no Damaged Time. There’s no damage. We’ve fixed everything!”

  Gary’s smirk was too much. Jonah turned his face to the side.

  I should have figured that out, Jonah thought. Katherine would have, in nothing flat. She would have been screaming at Gary, “But what about the babies’ families here? What about the lives they had for thirteen years?”

  Jonah couldn’t scream that at Gary. He didn’t think he could squeeze any words past the lump that had formed in his throat. And anyhow, now the plane was starting to jerk back from the Jetway.

  Angela will never step onto that plane, Jonah realized, a bubble of panic starting in his chest. Nobody at this airport will see those babies. Angela will probably start doubting she ever saw that plane. She’ll think it was just a reflection in the glass, just a trick of the eye. She won’t quit her job and spend thirteen years researching physics, trying to understand time travel. She’ll . . . she’ll throw away the note I gave her.

  “Please,” Jonah whispered to Gary. “We were already so close to fixing everything. I was the only missing kid from history who hadn’t gone back in time already. Well—I guess I have gone back now. And I guess maybe there’s no way to keep me from having to live in the 1930s. But . . . for the other kids, for their families—can’t you just let them stay here?”

  Gary started laughing even more.

  “Do you know how much money I’d have to give up?” he asked.

  “But—for thirty-five families’ happiness,” Jonah began. “All those parents who desperately wanted a kid . . . remember Andrea? Remember how her parents are going to die when she’s twelve years old? Don’t they deserve twelve years of happiness with Andrea before they die?”

  Gary kept laughing.

  “I can’t believe that goody-goody JB lied to you for so long,” he said. “I can’t believe you fell for it.”

  “What are you talking about?” Jonah asked, even as he saw the plane pulling farther back from the Jetway. Most of the plane windows were in shadow now, so Jonah couldn’t get one last glimpse of his friends as babies. But he could see into the cockpit as the plane went past. Charles Lindbergh sat in the pilot’s seat, his face lit by the glow of the instrument panel.

  Gary’s laughter was horrible in Jonah’s ears.

  “It was never possible for time to survive with you or any of the other babies from that plane living in this time period,” Gary said.

  “We had thirteen years here!” Jonah countered. “Once we fixed the past, everything was going to be great!”

  Gary shook his head and rolled his eyes and laughed even harder.

  And then Jonah couldn’t argue anymore, because he could see the plane getting into position on the runway. Evidently Gary and Hodge had gotten lucky with their timing, or they’d planned the plane’s departure better than its arrival. Either way, there were no other planes in front of Lindbergh’s waiting to take off; there were no other planes landing. The runway ahead of Lindbergh’s plane was open and clear.

  The plane zoomed forward, picking up speed. Jonah could see only its lights now, and they were a blur. Going, going . . .

  “Andrea,” Jonah whispered. “Chip . . .”

  There were other names he wanted to say, but they didn’t matter now. The plane was gone. It rose from the runway—and vanished into thin air.

  THIRTY-TWO

  “Yahoo!” Gary screamed.

  He let go of Jonah and began pumping his fists in the air. He spun around, practically howling with glee.

  He thinks I’m too upset to do anything, Jonah told himself. But while he’s celebrating, maybe I could just sneak away?

  Jonah eased away from the window and inched toward the door. Gary made no move to stop him. Jonah sneaked his hand toward the door handle and quietly turned it.

  I’ll go find Angela and tell her everything. Maybe the two of us together can figure out what to do, he thought. No, I’ll look for one of those time agents who were chasing the plane before. . . . No, first of all, I have to get Katherine back from Hodge. And the Elucidator, too. Or . . .

  The door was moving outward faster than Jonah was pushing it. He turned to face the doorway head-on—and smashed directly into Hodge.

  Jonah sprang back, because he didn’t want to hurt the baby Hodge still carried in his arms. He was actually quite relieved to see that Hodge was still carrying Katherine around. Hodge had even wrapped her in an additional blanket, probably taken from the plane. Jonah couldn’t see her face or head because of the way Hodge was carrying her, but it looked like she was contentedly sleeping against his chest.

  Grab her without waking her up and making her scream, Jonah revised his instructions to himself. Grab the Elucidator. And then . . .

  Was there anyone out there in the airport who could actually help him? Or would Jonah do better trying to escape from Gary and Hodge once they went back to 1932? Or would Jonah already be a toddler again by the time he landed, so he wouldn’t be able to do anything even then?

  Gary slapped his hand against Hodge’s in a dramatic high five.

  “We did it!” he crowed.

  Should Jonah worry about the fact that neither one of them seemed the least bit concerned about grabbing Jonah again? Even though Jonah was still standing right beside the door?

  Was there anything else he should be worrying about?

  “How can you be so excited when Lindbergh’s flying off in a plane that time agents are watching and wanting to attack?” Jonah asked, even though it made both Gary and Hodge look toward him. They still didn’t try to grab him. “What if they shoot the whole plane down?” />
  “We’ve got nothing to fear from time agents,” Hodge said, beaming at Jonah. “Never again.”

  “But—” Jonah began.

  “Should we just go ahead and tell him everything?” Gary asked. “It’d be . . . like a kindness, to make him understand what just happened.”

  “You want to be kind?” Hodge asked incredulously.

  Gary broke out with a grin that was even wider than Hodge’s.

  “No, not actually,” he admitted. “I want to gloat. I want to rub it in how thoroughly we won and his side lost.”

  Hodge high-fived him again.

  “Not a bad idea,” he said.

  “Shouldn’t we be leaving for 1932?” Jonah asked. “So we can meet up with Charles Lindbergh there?”

  He really meant, So I don’t have to listen to the two of you gloat. So we can get on with this—and my side really can win. So I can see for sure if Angela is there waiting for me with an Elucidator, and deal with everything if she isn’t.

  Maybe Jonah would have to spend some amount of time as Charles Lindbergh’s son. But surely JB and Angela would rescue him eventually, somehow.

  Even if Charles Lindbergh’s son is really who I’m supposed to be? Even if there’s no other way to save time? Jonah’s treacherous mind threw at him.

  He decided not to think about that.

  “So, all right, here’s the first secret we’re going to tell you,” Gary said, leaning his face close to Jonah’s in his exuberance. “Are you ready? We’re not going to take you back to 1932 to meet up with Charles Lindbergh. You’re never going to see him again.”

  Jonah did a double take.

  “What? But you promised him—” Jonah began.

  “We aren’t the type of people who keep their promises,” Hodge said with fake solemnity. “Didn’t you ever notice that about us?”

  Well, yes, Jonah had. Gary and Hodge had told awful lies to Jonah’s friend Gavin, to convince him to pull Jonah, Chip, Katherine, and another friend, Daniella, back to 1918.

  Jonah felt a little pang just thinking about his friends, who were now on their way to the future with Charles Lindbergh because Gary and Hodge had tricked him, too.