Jordan summoned the energy to lift his head and look.
He was cradling a baby wrapped in an oversize hospital gown against his left arm.
Jordan had managed to hold on to Kevin. But Kevin had turned all the way back into a baby.
“So what do you think you’re going to do now?” a voice asked above him.
FORTY-SEVEN
Jordan blinked frantically, trying to get his eyes to see beyond the baby cradled in his arms.
“Who’s there?” Jordan asked.
Someone chuckled just outside his range of vision. All he could see was a blur.
“You should be able to recognize me by now,” the voice said. Whoever it was made a tsk-tsk noise. “It appears you’re prone to lengthy spells of timesickness. So you’re not a very good time traveler.”
The voice was familiar. Jordan had the feeling he would have recognized it if it hadn’t seemed to be coming from a million miles away.
The blurry shape came closer. A face loomed above him.
“Mr. Rathbone?” Jordan cried.
The face swung in and out of focus. The chuckle came again.
“Shouldn’t that be ‘Mr. Rathbone, I presume’?” the voice asked. “Oh, well, never mind. I’m sure you don’t get the reference.”
“Someone looking for a lost explorer in Africa a long time ago . . . ,” Jordan mumbled. “ ‘Dr. Livingston, I presume . . .’ My mom likes talking about stuff like that in history. . . .” He didn’t want to talk about his mom in front of Mr. Rathbone. “But I don’t understand. Why are you here? I thought Second . . .”
Maybe it wasn’t too smart to talk about what he’d seen Second do to Mr. Rathbone. Maybe that hadn’t happened yet.
Mr. Rathbone chuckled once more. The man seemed much happier than he’d been the last time Jordan had encountered him.
Jordan didn’t like that.
“You thought Second . . . what? Completed his betrayal of Interchronological Rescue by turning me back into a baby?” Mr. Rathbone asked. “And then by allowing you and your puerile siblings to decide where my baby self should be stowed?”
His chuckle turned into a full-on laugh. It was a horrible sound, triumphant and gloating.
“You actually fell for that?” Mr. Rathbone asked. “Even after you found out that Second was a hologram in the time hollow, you never once thought, Could he have been a hologram the last time I saw him too?”
“He . . . he touched things,” Jordan said. “He carried . . .”
“A hologram version of me as a baby?” Mr. Rathbone said scornfully. “A hologram man can carry a hologram baby. Neither has any substance.”
Jordan wanted to keep protesting: But Second broke your golf club! He pressed buttons on the wall of the time hollow! He made my family vanish! He said he put a button in a cubicle for me to push!
But all of those could have been more illusions. Illusions or tricks or lies—or things that Mr. Rathbone himself had arranged.
Maybe Second had been a hologram every single time Jordan had seen him. It wasn’t like any conversation with the man had ever seemed normal.
Mr. Rathbone was still talking, using his words like a club to beat up Jordan even more.
“You actually chose to believe that Second defeated me?” Mr. Rathbone ranted. “Me—the CEO of Interchronological Rescue? When, actually, I had a plan that would get me everything I ever wanted?”
Jordan’s vision seemed to be totally back now. He could see every line of the gloating expression on Mr. Rathbone’s face. Jordan sat up woozily and darted his eyes around, trying to look past Mr. Rathbone.
Big desk, long walls . . .
It appeared that Jordan and baby Kevin had landed back in Mr. Rathbone’s office at the Interchronological Rescue headquarters.
Is this where Kevin told the Elucidator to take us? Jordan wondered. And did he want to be a baby again?
That seemed ridiculous. And Jordan had done his best to shut out Kevin from commanding the Elucidator to do anything but help Jordan’s parents.
But this Elucidator came from Mr. Rathbone from the very start, Jordan remembered. Did Mr. Rathbone have it programmed to ultimately turn Kevin back into a baby and bring us here?
Mr. Rathbone had probably also sent Kevin the message Kevin thought was from his older self. It was that message that had made Kevin grab the Elucidator from Jonah.
Jordan’s brain hurt, trying to figure everything out. And he could hardly think past the bigger question looming in his mind: Regardless of what Mr. Rathbone planned or didn’t plan . . . how do I get out of here?
Mr. Rathbone watched Jordan’s eyes dart about. It felt like he was watching Jordan’s thoughts, too.
“Don’t even think you could escape,” Mr. Rathbone said with a snort. “Interchronological Rescue has a top-notch security system. All automated, of course. I control it all. I can see everything going on in the entire headquarters.”
“Really?” Jordan taunted, just because Mr. Rathbone was so annoying. “But there are parts of the headquarters away from the security cameras. You didn’t know when Katherine, Jonah, and I landed in the lab that Gary and Hodge used.”
Scorn flickered in Mr. Rathbone’s eye.
“Actually I did know about that,” Mr. Rathbone said. “I just didn’t choose to let you know that I knew.”
Is he lying? Jordan wondered. Did he know anything about Deep Voice and Doreen and Tattoo Face helping us?
There was no way Jordan could ask without giving everything away.
“Perhaps my employees gave you a different impression?” Mr. Rathbone sneered. “Not that I think someone like you would ever be a CEO, but I’ll give you a little hint. Sometimes it’s helpful to let your worthless underlings think you’re a little more ignorant than you really are. So you can see who might deceive you, given the chance. Or what they think is a chance.”
Okay, Mr. Rathbone knew all along what Deep Voice, Doreen and Tattoo Face were doing, Jordan thought. He knew about the camera Doreen put on him. He knew . . .
Mr. Rathbone gave a slow, evil smile.
“You’re finally figuring it out, aren’t you?” he asked. “I won. I won everything. Nobody can touch me now.”
Jordan struggled to hold baby Kevin up a little. The baby whimpered at the change.
“You won one more stinking baby from the past to sell to some rich family,” Jordan said. “So what? You’re already rich. What does it matter if this baby makes you very, very rich? Who cares?”
Mr. Rathbone started shaking his head.
“You really aren’t very bright, are you?” he asked. “You still don’t know what you’re talking about. I bet your brother and sister would have understood by now.”
“Why didn’t you set up my brother or sister to be the stork delivering your baby, then?” Jordan asked. He tried to sound like he didn’t care.
Mr. Rathbone laughed as if he was genuinely amused.
“Maybe I thought I needed someone ignorant and stupid like you,” he said. “So Second—or, should I say, Kevin?—wouldn’t worry about anyone outsmarting him.”
Jordan could tell that Mr. Rathbone meant this conversation to hurt him. Probably he meant it to make Jordan’s brain shut down in shame.
Maybe he doesn’t know how many people have already called me ignorant and stupid so far today, Jordan thought. It’s not like I’m not used to it.
He had been kind of ignorant and stupid both, that morning he’d walked down the stairs in his own house, back in the twenty-first century, the last time he’d thought of himself as someone absolutely ordinary, with one ordinary mom, one ordinary dad, and one ordinary sister.
With no brother at all, and no secret background involving time travel and life-or-death decisions.
But he’d seen a lot since then. He’d learned a lot.
And really, now I’ve seen and heard and learned everything Jonah or Katherine saw or heard or learned, Jordan thought. Because of watching everything in the ti
me hollow, I’ve witnessed everything they did. No—I’ve witnessed more, because I had the extra time with Kevin. . . .
“Pay attention,” Mr. Rathbone snapped, and Jordan saw how much the man hated being ignored.
Mr. Rathbone shoved his face closer to Jordan’s.
“I’ll explain, because I don’t want to waste any more time on you,” Mr. Rathbone said. “You brought me two payoffs. One was that Elucidator that contains the secret for re-aging adults. The secret to completely separating time from aging, as it were. And life from its consequences.”
Jordan felt a tremor of panic deep in his gut.
“But Second said that secret ruined his world!” he protested. “I mean, I know he was just a hologram when he told me that, but—what he said was true, wasn’t it?”
“Second ruined his own world,” Mr. Rathbone said scornfully. “But I won’t ruin ours. In his world, Second gave out his secret freely, to everyone who wanted it. He said he wanted everyone to have a chance to fix their mistakes, as quickly and easily as possible.”
“But . . . shouldn’t that be a good thing?” Jordan asked.
Mr. Rathbone laughed scornfully.
“Don’t worry—I won’t make the same mistake,” he said. “I’ll keep control of the secret always. Even when I’m selling temporary access to the highest bidders.”
Mr. Rathbone reached out and yanked the Elucidator from Jordan’s hand.
Belatedly, Jordan realized he should have held the Elucidator hostage, refusing to hand it over until Mr. Rathbone gave Jordan what he wanted.
No, that would have just gotten me killed, Jordan thought. Or, at best, thrown into some sort of prison. Mr. Rathbone is holding all the cards right now.
Wasn’t he?
Something tickled at the back of Jordan’s mind, something his brain seemed to think Jordan should pay attention to. But Jordan couldn’t figure out what it was.
Reflexively, Jordan tightened his grip on baby Kevin. Mr. Rathbone’s eyes seemed to follow the action.
“Oh, you think you’re going to be able to hold that baby back from me?” Mr. Rathbone asked. “You think there’s anything you can keep from my power? Wouldn’t you be better off begging me to deal with you kindly?”
“You’ve already told me I’m stupid and ignorant,” Jordan said. “I know I’m too stupid and ignorant for you to want to turn me back into a baby and sell me to the highest bidder. Anyway, I’m not a famous missing child from history.”
Mr. Rathbone shook his head, his eyebrows arched in scorn and amazement.
“You still think this is about famous missing children from history?” he asked. “That was the old business model. With Gary and Hodge gone, with the time agency making new rules right and left . . . that’s over. But the key to business success is adaptability. You look at your assets and figure out what they’re worth in the changing business environment. That baby you’re holding might very well be the smartest human who’s ever lived. You think selling him—I mean, adopting him out—is the best use of something like that? When there are so many other possibilities?”
Now that he wasn’t holding the Elucidator anymore, Jordan placed his right arm over his left, adding another layer of protection to baby Kevin.
“He’s not a thing,” Jordan said. “He’s a baby. A human being.”
Mr. Rathbone rolled his eyes.
“The other versions of Samuel Kevin Chase were a little too human—too rebellious, anyway,” he said. “I think the life he lived his first thirteen years left him with no loyalty to anyone. Second Chance betrayed Gary, Hodge, Interchronological Rescue, JB, the time agency, and time itself. The boy I sent you and your siblings to rescue betrayed me. He was supposed to come straight back here, not go off to time hollows and hospitals. Fortunately, I anticipated that problem and embedded commands in the Elucidator that forced him back here anyhow.”
“As a baby,” Jordan said flatly. This was proof, then. The Elucidator had been set up to zap Kevin back to babyhood and off to Mr. Rathbone the minute he confided his secret idea. Even Kevin hadn’t been brilliant enough to know that that would happen—or how to stop it.
“Right,” Mr. Rathbone said, nodding. “And now I can raise the child to adore me and tell all his brilliant business ideas to me.”
Jordan had seen Kevin/Second Chance/Sam Chase at various ages, and neither the teenager nor the man had seemed like the loyal, adoring type. Maybe it was because of the way he’d grown up; maybe it wasn’t. Jordan didn’t know how Mr. Rathbone’s experiment would turn out.
But it kind of sounded like Kevin/Sam Chase/Second Chance would once again have a miserable childhood.
“How do you know Kevin’s idea about re-aging adults even works?” Jordan asked, because he still wanted to taunt Mr. Rathbone. That seemed to be the only power Jordan had left. “Maybe Second Chance knew what he was doing, but you killed Second. Right?”
Mr. Rathbone barely shrugged.
“He was expendable,” he said.
Jordan winced. He wished he hadn’t brought up anything about Second dying. Did he really want to know for sure that it had happened—and that Mr. Rathbone had caused it? A cruel voice in his head whispered, If that was how Mr. Rathbone dealt with Second, who was a genius, what’s going to happen to me? What hope do I have?
“You don’t see the precautions I took?” Mr. Rathbone asked. He still seemed to want to brag. “I made sure I had proof, of course. Using guinea pigs, you might say.”
Jordan didn’t understand. Probably his face looked completely blank, because Mr. Rathbone sighed.
“Your parents?” he hinted.
Jordan’s body seemed to catch on before his brain did. He clenched his fists, which was hard to do while still holding baby Kevin.
“You used my parents as guinea pigs?” Jordan exploded. “Like, like lab rats?”
Mr. Rathbone favored him with a thin, triumphant smile.
“Them, and JB, and some sixty other adults,” he said. “It was a bit larger of a sample than I intended. But that’s what happens when you’re using untested technology.”
“You used untested technology on my parents?” Jordan screamed. Baby Kevin whimpered at the noise.
Mr. Rathbone glared at Jordan.
“Now, now,” he said. “Somebody had to be first. And we couldn’t alert the time agency in any way. As it was, we had them convinced that the whole experiment was a mistake, a simple error caused by Charles Lindbergh ignorantly fiddling around with an unfamiliar Elucidator.”
Jordan wished he were holding almost anything in his arms besides a live baby. It would have been so satisfying to throw something at Mr. Rathbone—preferably something huge and heavy and pain-inducing. It would have been so satisfying to punch the man.
“My parents should never have been guinea pigs!” Jordan yelled. “They’re people. So were the other adults you changed—”
Maybe Jordan was screaming too loudly. Maybe, in his fury, he’d started squeezing baby Kevin too tightly. Either way, something set the baby off, and he began to wail.
“Now you’ve done it,” Mr. Rathbone said, frowning. He reached behind him to the desk and picked up something small and silver. He pressed it into baby Kevin’s arm.
Instantly the baby stopped crying. His body went limp in Jordan’s arms.
“Sedative,” Mr. Rathbone said. “Very useful. Should I use one on you, too?”
Jordan decided not to answer that question.
But what would it matter? Jordan wondered. Mr. Rathbone’s probably going to kill me in a few moments anyhow.
Somehow that thought made him reckless.
“Are you going to keep Kevin sedated his whole childhood?” Jordan asked. “I don’t think that’s how people turn out to be geniuses. I bet he won’t grow up to have any brilliant ideas for you at all.”
Mr. Rathbone narrowed his eyes.
“What made you such an expert on raising kids?” he asked.
“Watching my pare
nts,” Jordan said. He was just trying to taunt Mr. Rathbone again, but somehow this struck him as an incredible truth. He’d just watched a repeat of his entire childhood—and Jonah’s and Katherine’s entire childhoods. Living through it, of course, Jordan had been just a kid. He’d taken his parents for granted. They were so ordinary. Normal. But seeing his life in reruns—while his parents’ lives hung in the balance—made him realize just how great his parents had been. How patient, how kind, how loving.
How extraordinary.
Maybe watching his and Katherine’s and Jonah’s childhoods a second time around had actually made him wise.
Mr. Rathbone snorted. “You and Jonah and Katherine didn’t turn out to be geniuses,” he said. “None of you did.”
“But we turned out to be pretty good people,” Jordan countered. “That’s what my parents were aiming for.”
He thought about his dad putting up tents in the rain at Boy Scout campouts. He thought about his mom setting the alarm to get up early to take him and Katherine to Sunday school. He thought about his parents wiping tears and tying shoes and hugging all three of their kids, again and again and again.
“Look,” Jordan said, pushing his words past a huge lump in his throat. “I know you’re going to kill me. But can’t you give my parents a good life? Send them back home as adults, like they’re supposed to be. And you could give Jonah and Katherine back to them, and maybe you could make it so that they don’t even remember that they ever had another son. . . .”
He couldn’t go on talking. But this seemed like the best he could hope for.
Mr. Rathbone laughed, and the sound echoed cruelly.
“Such melodrama,” he said. “And such idiocy. You still don’t understand anything. Look. Here’s a replay of something else that happened when Kevin whispered into the Elucidator.”
He tapped the Elucidator sitting on the desk behind him, and the wall nearest Jordan lit up, turning into a floor-to-ceiling screen. On that screen Jordan saw one of the images he’d seen back in the time hollow: his parents, frozen as thirteen-year-olds. And then, as he watched, they unfroze. In the blink of an eye, they grew up. It was a little bit like watching an Incredible Hulk transformation, because as adults they were too big for Jordan’s Ohio State T-shirt and Katherine’s CHEER! sweatshirt. Seams ripped; Dad’s paunch stuck out below the bottom of the T-shirt. His bony ankles stuck out at the bottom of the jeans.