My hands hover above the screen. Now that I’m staring at the form, payback isn’t bringing half the relief I thought it would. I mean, all I really want is to know I’ll be safe, to have a life without constantly checking my back.
My hands clasp in my lap. I’m not sure I can go through with this. Boc’s wrong about illegals; all illegals, not just me. But if I set him up, I’d just be proving him right. It would make me no better than him. And as much of a risk as it will be to wait, I don’t want to be anything like Boc. If he ever finds out I’m illegal, maybe I’ll have no choice, but I don’t want to go through with this unless I have to.
I let out a breath. So where does that leave me? Back where I’ve always been, I guess. Hoping that he never works me out.
I
DRIFT OFF SOME
time after that, falling through dreams that send my heart stumbling. It’s barely dawn when I roll onto my side, still half in the dreamworld. Images float at the edge of my mind: skipping with Mason in the park, talking late into the night. Returning from a jump as I register that the smartcars are still coming, just as my shoulders are yanked back …
My comscreen flashes blue and slowly fades. A new message.
I block the glow of the screen from Mum as I read. It’s from Mason:
Let me guess. Boc said something and you panicked. Am I close?
It’s so close to the truth that I’m not sure how to reply. Mason must have checked the grid when I left his place yesterday, so he would have seen where I went.
Biting the inside of my cheek, I type:
I’m scared he’s going to turn me in if he finds out.
Relief lifts me as I press send. There’s nothing I can do about Boc that will guarantee I stay safe, but it feels good to admit this much. I slip out of bed, pad along the hall to the communal bathroom and call Mason.
‘So I’m right, eh?’ Mason’s voice is calm. I picture him lying in bed, his head sunk in a white pillow. ‘Boc’s a pit bull around illegals. I figured he must have done something about it in the other timestream.’
‘And you’re fine staying friends with someone like that?’ My butt is wedged on the narrow windowsill, my feet on the cold basin.
‘I’ve spent half my life fighting with the guy and the other half shaking my head at him. Does that help?’ A sigh. ‘Look, Boc’s always asking me to hack. Daring us to try insane stuff. He’s crazy competitive. His latest is talking us into climbing the high wall with no harness. So I get why you’re wary. But …’ Something rustles in the background as Mason shifts position. ‘Once he’s on your side, he’s with you to the end. Boc’s one of the most loyal people I know.’
I think I liked it better when Boc was an evil smudge that had to be wiped away. It’s harder, seeing it through Mason’s eyes. When Boc turned me in, he would have realised my status put Mason in danger by association. In his own way, he was probably trying to keep Mason safe.
My stomach turns over as I think of the way it ended up in the streets outside Sunshine Hospital. I’ll never be able to forgive Boc for what he did, but I have to admit that he did get that bit right: I am totally the reason Mason was caught.
‘Anyway, whatever you said, it’s working. Did you see?’ Mason’s voice comes clearer now. ‘He’s already made a half-hour jump. Man, it took me weeks to get that sort of length of time.’
‘Yeah, but you can drop away heaps faster than Boc,’ I say. ‘He’s really slow, and not so accurate at timing his return.’
‘Not for long, I bet. Reckon I need to up my training. Something tells me I’m in for a ride.’
‘But no disabling safety sensors on the train tracks. Or anywhere …’ I add.
‘Don’t worry. We’re climbing today, but I’ll call you during the week?’
‘Okay.’ I’m about to switch off when I say, ‘… and it’s not a competition, remember?’
I don’t think he hears me. I’m starting to see that’s exactly what it is.
Later that day, Kessa sends a message:
REALLY need to see you. Meet at the park in 20?
Heat rises to my neck at the urgency of her words. I’m still not sure whether I was right to lump her with such a massive secret.
We meet at a bench in Footscray Park, overlooking our old play area, and settle in as if we’ve been hanging out here our whole lives.
‘So …’ Kessa cuts straight to the chase, leaning forwards and scrunching her nose. ‘Did you ever … go to primary school? You couldn’t have, right?’
Whatever I was expecting, it wasn’t that. ‘Right,’ I say, frowning, my tone dropping at the reminder of how different we are. I’m not used to people knowing this stuff about me: how much of my life I’ve spent outside the system.
‘Okay. So. Have you ever heard of Christophe Eichmann? Who won the Nobel Prize in 2058?’
My shame shifts sideways and I let out a laugh. ‘Yeah. He invented the thermal inverter. Just because I didn’t go to school doesn’t mean I was locked in a cupboard all my life!’
‘Oh. Sorry.’ She cringes and shakes her head. ‘Stupid question. Anyway, I couldn’t remember where I’d read this, and it took ages to chase it up, but I finally found it.’ She leans back and breathes in. ‘And I was right. He was a refugee. Illegal until he was twenty-three.’
‘Really? I never knew that.’
‘I don’t think they like to publicise it. And it doesn’t happen often. But there was one detail I had to double-check before I told you. It says he negotiated citizen status after he made the breakthrough with thermal technology.’
My eyes widen as her words sink in.
‘You can do that? I ask slowly, cautiously. ‘I mean … it’s possible?’
‘You should apply,’ Kessa says, her voice hushed. ‘I’ve asked Dad and he’s going to find out the right department to go to. You just have to show them what you can do. I mean, this is an absolute breakthrough. Time travel.’ She grabs my shoulders and shakes. ‘We’re talking freaking time travel, Scout.’
I’m so scared and grateful and bewildered at once that I’m not sure what to think. All I say is: ‘You told your dad?’
‘Don’t worry. No names. And nothing about time travel either. He works for the Department of Infrastructure, so he’s not much help anyway.’ She grins. ‘I’m going to wait until I’ve learnt how to do that thing myself and blow their minds the way you did to me.’
My mouth lifts at the edges. ‘I didn’t exactly
blow your mind
…’
‘Yes. You did.’ A wink. ‘And worth every moment. But this is brilliant, don’t you think? You just have to demonstrate ways that it will contribute to our quality of life, and all that jazz.’
‘Well, that’s a cinch. Time skipping can save your life,’ I say quickly. ‘Anyone can escape danger once they know how to jump …’
Even as I say the words, I hear an echo from another place:
Thousands died
.
So many dots marked ‘deceased’ on the grid.
Even if we manage to stop the firestorm that’s coming, there will be others. Teaching citizens to skip could save so many lives.
‘I could organise an online tutorial,’ I whisper. ‘As part of the submission, I mean. Everyone could learn … eventually. Like, during an earthquake or something, people could jump forwards until it’s over.’
‘Yes!’ We’re both leaning forwards, huddled together. ‘It’s like you’ve invented a new way of understanding time. Or whatever. And you don’t have to mention the woman you found. Like maybe pretend you grew up outside the city limits with other illegals –’
She breaks off and pushes her lips together as if worried that it’s an insult to suggest I lived with other illegals.
I just shake my head.
Don’t worry about it.
But it still burns a bit.
‘Once they know what you can do, they’ll have to make you a real citizen,’ Kessa continues, still lost in the idea. ‘You could get your own chip inserted and then sit the entrance test for Karoly High again next year, maybe using a different name. I bet they’d make an age exception. We’d still be at school together. Except this time you’d be totally
legit
.’
She leans back and grins.
I blink three or four times, suddenly unsure.
‘What’s wrong?’
I find a smile. ‘This is great. Really. It’s a brilliant idea. It’s just …’
‘Just what?’
‘You’re thinking like a citizen. But … people like me, we don’t have the same rights as you. I mean … what if they reject me?’ I know how hard they tried to catch me in the other timestream.
Kessa shrugs. ‘They can’t put you in jail just for being illegal. They’ll just send you out of the city, right? But you’re not chipped so they wouldn’t be able to follow you. So you can come back. You just give a different name when you apply so they won’t be able to trace you either way.’
She’s right. But I’d still be fronting up and admitting I’m an illegal who can time skip. The burst I felt when I first heard the idea is already fading.
‘You can trust them,’ Kessa says. ‘I get that … it must have been hard, growing up the way you have. But … it’s not like they singled you out. They’re just trying to limit resource use because of shortages. Which is fair enough, I think. The government is trying to do what’s right for everyone. They’re not evil, you know.’
It’s only when I hear her tone rise near the end that I realise what’s bothering her. Her dad works for the government. Of course she doesn’t think they’re evil.
‘Maybe the system hasn’t been fair to you,’ Kessa continues. ‘But it’s not all bad.’
‘I know, I’m sorry,’ I say quickly. ‘I’m not saying that the system’s … unfair or anything.’ Not for citizens, it’s not.
Even though I’m thinking straight again, the idea has left a sting in my heart, like saltwater in an open wound. Just for a moment, I thought I had a chance at being a real citizen. No more hiding. Legit.
After a while my eyes slide to look at Kessa, only to find her doing the same to me.
‘It’ll be worth it, Scout,’ she says softly and dips her head. ‘You’ll be
famous
…’
I don’t have the heart to admit I’m not sure about this anymore so I just say, ‘Don’t want to be famous. They’ll probably try to use time travel to sell make-up or something.’ But I can’t help snorting at the idea as I say it, and Kessa cracks up too.
Mum’s sitting on the edge of her armchair when I come home, squinting at the comscreen, scanning the crowd at the rear of the presenter. I’m not surprised when I see that it’s a news segment about the bombing of a church in Egypt.
She won’t find him, my dad, no matter how hard she searches, but I’d never say that outright. If he managed to escape persecution once he was sent back, he wouldn’t be dumb enough to get his face on international TV. I think Mum knows that too; it’s just easier for her to watch, in case he might be there, than to accept the alternative.
The news segment finishes and I head over to the kitchenette while she scrolls to the next report. Dinner is pretty much cooked by the time Mum’s finished trawling through the news segments. I flip one half of the omelette on top of the other, then slice it in two and slide half onto each plate.
I settle into the armchair beside her and rest the plate on my knees. ‘Did you know that Christophe Eichmann was illegal?’
‘Really? No. Never heard that.’
‘Yeah. Kessa said they don’t like to publicise it much. He applied for citizenship once he invented the thermal inverter. In exchange for the invention, I guess.’
‘Well … I never knew that,’ says Mum. I can see her mulling it over. ‘I wonder if …’ Our eyes meet and she shakes her head. ‘Pity you don’t have any blueprints for the latest energy breakthrough.’ A soft laugh.
‘Yeah. I know.’ Using the edge of my fork I cut off a corner of the omelette. ‘Pity.’
I pop it into my mouth, thinking about Kessa’s faith in the system. How must it feel to live with that confidence, the sense of security?
When I turn to Mum she’s watching me with narrowed eyes, like a clairvoyant examining my aura. ‘What is it?’ she asks slowly.
How does she do that? ‘What is
what
?’
‘What are you thinking?’
‘It’s nothing. I mean, it’s risky so there’s no point.’
One of Mum’s eyebrows rises slowly. ‘Try me.’
We’ve been meditating every day, but I don’t bother to talk Mum through it anymore. Instead I sit on the edge of the tunnel, as close as I can to reaching the point where I could let go without actually dropping in. I’m getting really clear now about the point between staying and falling away.