Future Threat

11

But there is something I want in return.

“Wait,” I say. “If we do this, we want you to leave us alone for the rest of our lives.”

“No way. I won’t do it, even then.” Chris pounds on the door again. “Let me out of here! You can’t do this to us!”

“Chris, I don’t like this any more than you do,” I say. “But they’ve got us trapped. No matter what we say or do, they’re sending us to the future again.”

His eyes blaze into mine, his anger hot and forceful. “I don’t care. I can’t do this. I won’t.”

“We don’t have a choice. And you must have heard it in his voice—he’ll do anything to save his son. You would too, wouldn’t you?” I put my hand on his arm and refuse to look away, no matter how intense his glare is. “Believe me, the absolute last thing I want is to relive our time in the future. But at least this way we can get something out of it to protect ourselves and the people we care about.”

Adam moves to my side. “She’s right. And we can’t leave those other people in the future. They need our help.”

“Not sure how that’s my problem,” Chris says, but I can tell from his voice that he doesn’t really mean it.

“We have to do this,” Adam says. “If not for them, then for us. Aren’t you a little curious about your new future?”

Chris stares us down for a moment longer and then spins around. “Dammit!” He yells it so loud it echoes off the domed metal walls, before he runs a hand over his face. His shoulders slump, as though he’s given in to the inevitable.

But Adam’s words set off a warning bell in my head. He’s so willing, even eager to go along with this second trip to the future. I flash back to our conversation last night, to his frustrations with trying to create the cure, and I can guess why.

I lower my voice, hoping the people outside the dome won’t be able to pick it up. “Did you know they were going to do this? Send us to the future again?”

“I swear I didn’t.”

“But you’re not that upset about it either. You want to get the cancer cure, don’t you?”

He hesitates, his face guilty, but then he clasps my hands in his. “Yes, but think of all the good we could do with it. Bringing the cure back would save years of research. Years!”

I step back from him, shrugging off his hands. “I can’t believe you’re even considering this.”

His face falls. “But—”

“No. You have to develop the cure like you did before. There’s no magic shortcut and no way around it.”

Chris shakes his head. “I gotta agree with her, man. If you bring the cure back already made, then no one will ever actually create it. It’ll just spring into existence thanks to this freaky time-travel loop. Won’t that mess things up?”

“I don’t know,” Adam says, his brow furrowed. “Possibly. But if it works, it would save millions of lives.”

“And if it doesn’t work?” I ask. “What then?”

“I-I suppose it could alter the timeline or even cause a paradox.” His head drops, and after a minute he sighs. “All right. I won’t try to get the cure.”

I take his hand again, giving it a squeeze. “I know it’s hard to wait, but you are going to create the cure. There’s no doubt in my mind.”

Chris slaps him on the back. “You’re the smartest guy I know. You’ll figure it out eventually and save the world and all that good stuff.”

“I hope you’re right.” With one long breath, Adams draws himself up and meets my eye. “So we’re really doing this?”

I rack my brain one last time for another solution or for a way out of this mess, but come up empty. “I think we have to.”

Both of them reluctantly nod, and I turn back to the door and speak to the person I know must be listening. “We’ll find your son on one condition: you leave us alone after this. No contact. No following us. No surveillance of any kind. You never come near us—or our family members—again. You forget we exist, and we’ll do the same for you.”

Our proposal is met with silence. I wish we could see out of this freaking dome, to know what is going on out there. Are they discussing it? Or starting up the machine to send us against our will?

“They’ll never agree to this,” Chris says. “And if they do, how can we trust they’ll keep their word?”

“Because if they don’t, we’ll tell everyone what they’re doing here,” Adam says. “And no confidentiality agreement is going to stop us.”

When no response seems to be coming, I cross my arms and raise my voice. “Look, you can send us to the future, and there’s no way we can stop you. But once we get there? We can sit on our asses until the aperture opens again, and your son will still be missing forever. If you agree to this, I promise we’ll bring him back.”

“Very well,” Vincent finally says. “Aether will never contact you again or do any further surveillance, I swear it. As long as you rescue my son.”

“Fine,” Chris says. “But let me call Shawnda at least before we go.”

“I’m sorry, but we can’t allow that. But you’ll only be in the future for five hours, meaning only a few minutes will pass here in the present. She won’t even know you’re gone.”

Adam’s eyebrows dart up. “Only five?”