by Jessica Gunn
I looked him straight in the eyes, daring him. “I’m not leaving without Trevor.” There was no way I could teleport the entire chamber. It was huge.
“You’ve got five minutes. Then I have Mr. Turner help me drag you out,” Major Pike said. “The last thing Trevor would want is for you to die too. That’s why Trevor lied to you, so you wouldn’t die because of this shit war.”
The truth of his words struck me somewhere deep in my soul. Trevor had lied when I’d shown up on SeaSat5 to keep me from the truth. Had kept lying so I wouldn’t fear Thompson. Had lied about being sick and getting this map stuck in his head so I wouldn’t leave TruGates, screw up the mission, and never find SeaSatellite5 because of him.
I pulled in a rattled breath. Options. I needed options. I needed my idea to work.
Normal Atlanteans couldn’t hold the map, sure. But what about super soldiers? I already saw the whole map when I glanced at Link Pieces. What difference would it really make if I housed the whole thing and saw it all the time?
My eyes landed on the glass case of the chamber, peering through at Trevor.
I had one chance. One damn chance to move fast enough for this to work. If they caught me or stopped me…
I searched for my abilities and flicked my fingers back, knocking everyone on their asses with telekinesis. I raced for the doors to the chamber and yanked them open against their will with all my strength. My hands found the sides of Trevor’s head and I rose up to the tips of my toes so we were almost eye level. If he weren’t so pale, he’d almost look like he was asleep. Peaceful and unknowing of the world around him.
But he wasn’t sleeping. He was dying. And it was about time I did something about that.
Even if it killed me.
And it might. It so, so might. But I didn’t care. Sophia had been right last year. I didn’t deserve him, this man who constantly saved me from danger and from myself time and time again. Who loved me despite me not being so lovable all the time.
I closed my eyes as the others stood and Valerie shrieked my name. I blocked it all out and used my telekinesis to clamp my feet to the ground, making me unmovable.
My mind stilled and I searched out Trevor’s. Our link was still there, but the lights in his house weren’t on.
Wake up, Trevor. It’s me.
No response.
Then everything exploded all at once, like the Big Bang at the start of the universe. His head was all blues flying around in a gyre, all times and dates and objects and links. Puzzle pieces and answers to questions he didn’t know how to ask. And it was so much. So overwhelming, even for the two of our brains to handle. How had he possibly held it all on his own for so long?
That’s when I knew: I would die for this. Taking the map from Trevor would kill me, but so too would fighting this war without him by my side. And if that was the choice, I’d willingly give my life for his.
Come, I told the Waterstar map, reaching for it and pulling it across the bridge from Trevor’s mind to mine. Come home.
It did.
I was blinded momentarily by the light of it all. But I blinked and blinked and soon the Waterstar map became a constant overlay in the room. Everything that could be a Link Piece showed up. Everything that was a Link Piece was there.
I pushed it all aside, ignored it as best I could despite the blaring noise that accompanied it all, and slammed the door to the chamber shut again. I hit the same buttons I’d seen my father press.
No one had moved once they figured out I’d planted myself in front of the chamber. No one spoke as the vital signs detector beeped erratically… then slowed to something more steady, more alive. We stood there, watching, as Trevor’s vitals fell back to normal. As the wound on his shoulder healed. As my eyes clouded over with the blue haze of the Waterstar map that only I could see.
Disperse, I willed it. Listen to the part of me that is also part of you.
And, somehow, the fog disappeared until it was completely gone. A dark, navy blue rash crept up my arms, but it disappeared as quickly as it came, leaving behind only the faintest pain. I ignored it when Trevor’s eyes fluttered open inside the chamber. A green light flicked on above the chamber and the door popped open.
“Trevor!” I shouted, reaching in to undo the straps around his arms, legs, and middle. My fingers found his face. He was alive. Alive!
I pressed a kiss to his forehead, to each of his precious oceanic eyes, and then to his lips. His Cheshire cat grin slid across my mouth, but the kiss was weak. At least it was there at all.
I pulled back when he did.
“What happened?” he asked, his voice hoarse.
“I love you,” I said, brushing his lips with my fingertips. Lightly, so lightly. I’d never yell at him again, never take him for granted, never hurt him. Not ever. He deserved more, better. And I could give that to him now that he was alive again. My person, alive. “And that is all that matters.”
Pike’s radio crackled to life once more. It was the Captain. “Major!”
“Can we get this show on the road?” Pike asked.
Valerie rushed forward and we each wrapped one of Trevor’s arms around our shoulders.
We were going home alive.
37
Trevor
Sounds. All sorts of sounds. The low beep of a vitals machine. The brushing of fingers over guitar strings. Someone humming. Paper shuffling.
I opened my eyes. Someone with the most gorgeous blonde hair I’d ever seen sat on my bed, a guitar in-hand. Playing but not singing. Humming. It was an acoustic version of Bon Jovi’s It’s My Life. Slow, like a prayer.
“Hey,” I said. My voice was hoarse, unused. But my head was clear. The thrum of the map, the pain—it was all gone.
Chelsea startled and spun around. “Trevor!”
I grinned at the sight of her beautiful, perfect face and molten ocean eyes. “Morning.”
She checked her watch. “Try afternoon.”
“Oh,” I said looking down. I was in a hospital bed. No, a bed in the Infirmary of SeaSatellite5. I’d know these sheets anywhere. I’d spent enough time looking at them while waiting for Chelsea to wake up from surgery two years ago. “Did I get shot or something?” I asked her. “Is this like some weird sort of reverse thing?”
She chuckled at first, then full-out belly laughed as she put her guitar down on the ground and slid over me. She crashed her lips to mine, slanting her mouth to deepen the kiss. I lifted my hand and cupped her head to hold her close. Her kiss breathed life back into me.
She pulled back suddenly and looked at me. “Hmm.”
“Hmm?” I echoed.
Tilting her head, she tapped the side of my head lightly. “I can’t hear you anymore.”
I bit my lip and tried reading her thoughts. Nothing. “Me either.”
She frowned and sat back. “That must have been part of the deal.”
“Deal?” I asked. “What deal? Oh right. I had the whole damn map in my head and now it’s—gone? How was it gone? “Chelsea?”
Her eyes searched mine. “I don’t want to be mad at you for lying because it turned out okay in the end. I’m alive and you’re alive and the Atlas Cache was destroyed.”
Oh man, what did I miss while writhing on the ground in pain?
“But Trevor, you can’t do that again,” she said. “Don’t carry something like that and not tell me because you’re trying to protect me. Please don’t make me be mad at you.”
I frowned. Yeah, I should have told her. But one thing remained true throughout all of it. “I’d do anything to protect you. To save you.”
“Me too,” she said, caressing my cheek. “And I did. So did you. Now we’re even. No more, okay?”
I could agree to that. Hopefully, with the Atlantean and Lemurian war now over, there wouldn’t be another reason to. “Okay. Deal.”
She grinned and leaned over me again. “Good. I love you, Trevor Boncore.”
I reached up and pulled her lips to mine. �
��Always, Chelsea. Please don’t leave me ever again.”
“Only if you promise not to almost die on me again,” she said wryly.
“Deal,” I said.
She grinned and kissed me. “Deal.”
Three days later found Chelsea and me, along with the newly reinstated and promoted Lieutenant Commander Weyland, Commander Devins, and Major Pike sitting in the big room at Pearl. The one where all the top-secret meetings took place. It was also the one where I’d first learned about the Navy’s interest in my Humming Bird system.
Captain Marks, General Holt, Lieutenant Commander Tessa Marks, and Admiral Dennett walked in together, all in their various dress uniforms. The first three took their seats at the table before the Admiral could take his at the head spot. He tapped a file folder in front of him and slid it into the center of the table, open for everyone to see.
“Thank you for joining me today,” Admiral Dennett said. He looked my way. “I’m glad to see you’ve recovered, Trevor.”
I nodded once. “As well as can be expected right now, sir. Thank you.”
“What’s going on?” Chelsea asked. “I got this email saying I had to be here pronto without telling anyone anything.”
The Admiral pointed to the open file on the center of the table. “That’s the only copy. The Captain, General, and I would like to unveil a project to you two.”
Lights lit up in my head. I turned to Captain Marks. “Is this the thing you wanted a revamp of Humming Bird for?”
It was his daughter, Lieutenant Commander Tessa Marks, who answered, “Indeed it is.” She proudly swept her hand over the file. “Everybody, meet SeaSatellite6.”
I glanced at Chelsea. She hadn’t yet heard rumblings about this like I had so many months ago. I didn’t know they’d even finished it.
“Six?” Chelsea asked, her eyes widening.
Admiral Dennett nodded. “We wanted something more outfitted to fit TAO’s mission of Link Piece exploration. Atlas is the first of its kind, outfitted with the same Link Piece creating technology that you’ve run into twice now.”
“You created a research station that can create Link Pieces,” I said, my words flat.
“Yes,” Captain Marks said. “This way we don’t have to worry about finding a Return Piece or a magical crane.” He looked to his daughter. “Well, she won’t, anyway.”
Major Pike met Tessa’s eyes. “You’re captaining it?”
She nodded. “Yes. I’ve been working behind the scenes on sea satellite stations all along. When the opportunity for Atlas came up, I couldn’t say no. I’ve been promoted to the rank of Captain.”
Chelsea’s eyes darkened. “You named it Atlas?”
General Holt was the first to answer. “It makes sense.”
“It’s also the place where many of us sitting at this table nearly died,” she snapped. “Besides, isn’t that technology a bit too much like playing god? The Link Pieces started as an accident. The rate at which they’re created is random. It’s supposed to be random.”
Chelsea was right.
“I’m disappointed to hear you say that, Chelsea,” Tessa said, “as I’d hoped you’d take up my offer to join my crew. And Commander Weyland, I hoped you’d be my XO.”
“Ah, now I see,” Weyland said. “There’s the reason for the promotion.”
“Join you?” Chelsea met Tessa’s eyes with a challenge. “Is that an order?”
“Not an order, an offer. You’re not military and I’d never force you to be. But SeaSatellite6 needs you and so do I. And given the fact that Atlas hasn’t even left construction at dry dock, Trevor would be coming with you, as well as your archaeological team.” She glanced at each person in the room. “There’s still a ton of work to be done, but in time, Atlas could benefit many programs, explore many different time-places.”
The meeting went on and on, but the longer it did, the more I found I agreed with Chelsea. Hadn’t we done enough of playing god lately? I used to think that time wasn’t meant to be traveled by anyone, for any reason. And after years of traveling through time, I still believed in that.
I was pretty sure I always would.
38
Chelsea
Normally, I hated hospitals. I hated their smell, the way they looked all sterile and neat, when in reality they were a place of sickness and chaos and bad things. But not today. Today, I had high hopes for a good hospital visit.
After we’d been back for a few days and it looked like nothing was going to happen, I called Logan. His brother was still in the hospital, still in a coma. I couldn’t stand the thought of it. And given the fact that we’d all soon be playing gods with time, I figured one more check in the “selfish” column wouldn’t hurt anything.
I opened the door to Caden’s ICU room. Logan was already there, reading Harry Potter to him. The sight of him reading to his brother stopped me dead in my tracks. Logan wasn’t a reader, wasn’t even remotely the Harry Potter kind of dude. But Caden loved that series so much.
They were already on book four.
Logan looked up at the sound of the door opening and stood when he saw Weyland and me in the doorway. “Chelsea.” His eyes lit up and I crossed the room to him. I wrapped him in the biggest hug I could muster without crushing his ribcage.
“Hey, Logan,” I said to him. “How’s Caden?”
Logan pulled back and eyed Weyland over my shoulder. “Same. There’s been no change since the accident. Supposedly that’s both good and bad.”
I frowned. “I’m so sorry, Logan.”
He shrugged.
“Hey man,” Weyland said, holding out his hand. “I’m Chelsea’s friend. I hope it’s okay that I came with her.”
“Yeah,” he said, but the sincerity didn’t reach his eyes. I didn’t blame him. I couldn’t imagine what he was going through, though I did hope to end it this very night.
“Hey.” I laid a hand on his shoulder. “Why don’t you go take a break? Go walk around or something. I’ll call you if anything changes.”
He looked at me for a long moment, a grateful look. “Yeah, okay. I need coffee anyway.”
“I’ll be right here,” I assured him.
He nodded, then trailed out the door, hand searching his pocket for change. I followed him to the door and saw him down the hallway.
Once he was around the corner and gone, I backtracked into the room and said to Weyland, “Okay, you’ve got maybe three minutes.”
“I’ll do what I can,” he said as he stood over Caden’s bed. “Hey kid. I hear you’re pretty great. Your friend Chelsea invited me here to help you. I’m going to see what I can do.”
Tears stung my eyes. This definitely totally fell into the personal gain category of power use, but I didn’t care. Caden didn’t deserve this. He hadn’t done anything wrong and he’d always been such a good kid.
Weyland settled his hands over Caden’s head and body. He closed his eyes and bowed his head, tapping into his power. Moments passed as Weyland worked on healing Caden’s mind and body. I hoped there was enough of him left in there to heal. It’d been almost too long now in a coma.
“There you go, buddy,” Weyland said and for the briefest of fleeting moments I allowed myself to feel hope.
Weyland pulled away from Caden and stepped back.
“Did it work?” I asked him.
And then I saw it. The twitch of Caden’s hand. The fluttering of his eyelids. That first deep breath. And then he was awake, his brown eyes searching the room.
“Chelsea?” he asked. “Ugh. What’s going on?”
I smiled, hiccupping a laugh of relief and pure joy. Trevor and Caden were both alive. I went to his bedside and took his hand in mine. “It’s okay. You’re going to be okay. Let me go find your brother.”
I sprinted out of the room and right into Logan. His coffee flew out of his hands and spilled everywhere. “Jeez, Chelsea. Watch out—”
“He’s awake,” I said, smiling. “Logan, he woke up.”
/> “What?” he asked, looking for understanding in my eyes.
I grabbed his hand and pulled him into Caden’s room, leaving the coffee cups where they fell. Weyland had taken a seat while I’d been gone.
Logan took one look at Caden and rushed to his side, wrapping him in a bear hug.
“It’s a miracle!” Logan exclaimed. “A miracle. Caden, man. Don’t you ever do that shit again. No more comas.”
Caden tried to laugh but confusion laced his voice so it didn’t reach his eyes.
Weyland and I left to give them a moment and to get a doctor. As we walked down the hall to the nurses’ station, I turned to Weyland and stopped walking. He did too.
I looked up at him and hugged him with all the adoration I possessed. “Thank you, Weyland. Thank you.”
39
Trevor
Dry-dock for Atlas happened to be on one of the more beautiful coastal areas in Pearl Harbor. Chelsea and I had gone hiking in a nearby area and found an outcropping that overlooked the dock. I leaned back against the railing, watching Chelsea watch Atlas being built. She looked amazing, standing there with the wind in her hair, a flush on her cheeks from the hike, the sun shining on her face.
“You still think it’s a bad idea?” I asked her.
“Hmm?” she asked.
I thumbed over my shoulder at the dry-dock. “Atlas.”
Her eyes narrowed, either from the sun or the displeasure, I couldn’t tell. “I think it’s a fucked up name.”
I chuckled and turned around, leaning over the railing. “Agreed. You’d think Captain Marks would have at least read our reports first before naming it, even if it makes perfect sense.”
A moment of comfortable silence washed over us.
“I’ll never un-see what I saw that day,” Chelsea said. “Prince Atlas breaking apart. Atlantis. You basically dying.” She shuddered. “I hate the station’s name.”
