Induction Day: Book Two in the Butterman Travel Series (22 page)

BOOK: Induction Day: Book Two in the Butterman Travel Series
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I want to say more, but don’t. If Garth is right—if my revelation is right—then the fact Evangeline stole government science is not the real issue. What she did needed to be done to change the course of the timeline and rid the DOT of their power.

Dad’s voice interrupts my thought. “Where is the proof that any of this is true?”

Garth moves in to face Dad with her own pointed stare. “Where’s the proof that it’s not?”

Chapter Twenty-Four

O
n the office sofa
, Tristan squeezes my hand and I lean into him.

“Just no more interviews, please,” I say to the room, aware Dad’s now listening from the on-screen intercom.

The celebration outside the Launchpad yesterday after our return was one thing, but the deluge of press releases ever since has been exhausting, and the single night’s sleep to slag off everything I’d been through prior was not nearly enough. My head is on repeat shuffle mode.

Tristan nuzzles my hair. “What’s there to worry about? You’ve been sublime, Butterman. Your ratings are still through the roof.”

My gaze lingers on the digital landscape across the office. It’s on the lunar surface setting and I find the grayish-brown pocked surface and infinite starry horizon especially comforting and quieting. It reminds me of those few hours of time tripping with Tristan in Manhattan—when we barely knew each other. And how now the entire excursion exists only in
our
memory, no one else’s.

“One final interview,” Dad says from the intercom, his image now visible in front of Essence in the Launchpad.

He’s already tinkering with her—a bit presumptuous since the DOT hasn’t approved us for an upgrade yet, but that’s Dad.

“Then we’ll take a nice long hiatus from the media, eh?” He’s not looking at me, he’s engaged in his work.

If I didn’t have another interview, I’d be out there helping him.

“And Bee,” he adds, “I think you better tell them everything about what happened on
Titanic
. Speak from the heart. People relate to that.”

I don’t answer. I won’t tell them everything, but I will tell them what they need to know. The question burning in my mind, though, is one Dad hasn’t decided we should discuss: do we change the course of the timeline like Evangeline initiated for her Induction Day, and claim T-cube science as our own?

“Garth is as much to blame as you are in the people’s eyes,” Dad continues. “Remember what Tristan’s agent said. Let them see you were

coerced and misadvised. The DOT will clean up their own mess. Any talks of a new world order is exactly what the government doesn’t want to get out. Agent Garth is eating her own words right about now.”

“Okay, Dad. Open and honest and not offensive to Garth or the DOT. Got it.” Quickly, I shut down his image before he continues.

“Wish I could see Garth get reamed by her boss,” Tristan says, poking my side playfully.

We haven’t been alone since onboard the time-craft. And now that we are, there seems so much to consider. I don’t know where to begin, or how to. I turn my face toward him and breathe in his earthy scent.

“What’s the matter,” he asks.

I smile, staring up at him, but not sure how to answer. Truth is, I want to know if he ever got rid of those drugs beneath his fingernails, because I never saw him ditch them. I’m not sure I want to know. I’d rather believe he did, but I also know that’s insanely stupid.

“You never told me where you were onboard
Titanic
, when I couldn’t find you,” I say.

“Oh, geez, that was nuts.” He grabs his head. “When I saw that one guy escorting you out of the dining room, I thought we were done for. I hid, watched you run. Never saw you again til after we hit the berg. Spent the entire time searching for you.”

“Why didn’t you go back to the time-craft?”

“I did. You weren’t there. I was afraid they caught you, so I went looking. Then I ran into you on my way back to the steam funnel.”

I shake my head. “I was so scared I was gonna have to leave without you.”

“You’d have left me?” Tristan’s face gets serious. “To drown?”

“Did I, though? Now you’re the one who’s leaving.”

He squeezes my thigh. “I’m itching to record. I have to go back to L.A. for that. But it’s all thanks to you, Butterman.”

He kisses me soft at first, then seductively and forceful.

My insides quiver. We never got to finish what we started. I push him away. “I won’t be able to visit you anytime soon. You know that.”

He sighs. “I won’t have time for anything but my album anyway.”

Last night, Tristan announced he’s ready to lay down new tracks. Something about making the most of every moment because you never know when it’s all over.
Titanic
got a hold of him. I understand that perfectly. I have to trust he’ll stay clean—he’s an adult.

“Tristan.” I focus on the digital landscape now, not him. “There’s something I have to tell you. When we were onboard
Titanic
—right before we got to Essence, that steward, Quincy Bloomsdale, gave me something.”

“Yeah?”

“I wouldn’t have normally accepted it, but there was so much sadness, and it meant so much to him. All I could think of was how he was getting ready to die, and—”

Tristan brushes back a lock of my hair. “Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to explain. I was there, remember? Going through that kind of tragedy is almost too much to handle.”

I take a deep breath, reach in my black leather pants pocket and pull out the pocket watch, flip it open. “It was his grandfather’s.”

Tristan stares at it. “Groovy. Some memento, huh?”

“Read the inside cover.”

He brings it in close, his lips moving with the words he reads.

I watch his face fall into the blankest of stares.

“Holy shit,” he says.

“I know.”

“What are the odds of some ancient guy’s watch having a line from my song? The same song that brought me here to meet you in the first place?” He laughs, full of ironic amusement. “What a coincidence …”

We stare at each other.

“Wait a minute,” he says, angling his head to study me. “You think this is a Coincidental Incident? But—”

“Our paths are linked,” I say. “Future, present … and past. I think we were meant to be there—meant to meet Quincy.”

He shakes his head. “That is … no, it’s not possible.” He gets to his feet, paces the floor near the lit hearth. “In the last two months I’ve been sucked into some kind of twisted time warp …”

“I’m as baffled as you are. But I wanna know what it means.” I stare at the pocket watch, turning it over in my hand.

“And how are we gonna find that out?”

“We have to go back.”

“To
Titanic
?” he says. “Are you mad? I don’t ever wanna be that close to disaster again.”

“I get that, I do. I felt the same way right after we escaped, but now … I haven’t checked into the details yet, but it’s possible Quincy may’ve survived the event. Once I research the timeline data for alterations I’ll know for sure. But one thing I
am
sure of—
this
means something. You can’t ignore that.”

“I can ignore whatever the hell I want.” He shrugs, heading toward the hallway, then turning once in a half step pause. “Tell you what, I’m gonna take a nice hot shower before your next interview, and I’ll leave the door unlocked. If you wanna join me, leave the mind mush out here, ‘cause I need a break.” He turns.

Speechless, I watch him saunter into the hallway and disappear. It’s a lot to deal with. I know that. He’s not ready for it. Maybe a steaming shower would be good. The two of us together, no media, no parents, no time travel. Just two naked bodies alone in the present.

A full body buzz tackles my skin so I have to catch my breath. I know Tristan’s meant to be in my life. Quincy’s pocket watch proves that all of this is connected. How, I don’t know yet.

But I intend to find out.

Coming soon ….

T
he Tides of Time

(
B
ook
3 in the Butterman Travel Series
)

T
o find
out when it releases and to receive periodic updates on progress, as well as sneak peeks, join PK Hrezo’s spam-free email list and receive
Diary of a Teenage Time Traveler
eBook free! It’s the novella prequel to Butterman (Time) Travel, Inc., and it’s all yours when you join today:

h
ttp
://eepurl.com/O0s5b

I
f you enjoyed Induction Day
, please consider leaving a review. They are most helpful to authors and often make the difference in their visibility to new readers. Thank you!

Other books by PK Hrezo now available:

B
utterman (Time) Travel
, Inc.

(Book 1 in the Butterman Travel series)

I
t’s
the year 2069 and even though eighteen-year-old Bianca Butterman is heir to the family biz, she may never see the day her time-craft license becomes official. When a government agent starts nosing around the operation, Butterman Travel, Inc. gets stuck with a full audit—part of a government take-over scheme to shut down all private time travel agencies. Enter former boy band superstar, Tristan Helms, desperate to retrieve a lost item from his past and willing to pay triple fare for a time-trip to get there, and Bianca has to find a way to complete the job and return home before the government gets wind and shuts down the family biz for good.

h
ttp
://down-the-rabbithole.com/?page_id=39

Diary of a Teenage Time Traveler
(Butterman Travel Prequel novella)

W
ho needs
teenage dreaming when you're a time traveler?

Bianca Butterman's parents run their own time travel agency in the latter half of the 21st century and Bianca's heir to the family biz. Talk about travel perks! Leisurely trips whenever business permits is more than just a rockin' good time. Except, how do you keep all those timelines straight and remember what decade you're visiting when you've got exams to ace, first kisses to barf over, rumors to squash, and prom dresses to design ...

Bianca's entries are in journal format via her electronic diary device, similar to the tablets we use today, but in the future they work as projected holograph screens and keyboards. This novella is a prequel of Bianca's early teenage years leading up to her eighteenth birthday and earning her official time-craft pilot's license in the full length novel, Butterman (Time) Travel, Inc.

h
ttp
://down-the-rabbithole.com/?page_id=39

Special Acknowledgments

I
’d
like to take this opportunity to offer my endearing gratitude to these special people who helped share Induction Day with the world when it was just a fledgling cover. You are all amazing and I’m privileged to call you my friends:

Ellie Garrett

DA Botta

Cherie Reich

JT Lewis

EJ Wesley

Jessica Bell

Heather Gardner

Jessica Lawson

Mary Weibel

Elizabeth Seckman

Beverly Stowe McClure

Norma Beisher

Alex J. Cavanaugh

Liz Blocker

Jamie Ayres

Rachel Morgan

Rick Miller

S.J. Pajonas

Acknowledgments

F
irst
, I’d like to thank you, the reader, for opening your mind and embarking on adventure. I’m grateful for your attention and time, and sincerely hope you found this story entertaining. I hope you’ll give the other books in this series a try as well.

T
o my stupendous beta readers
, Tammy Thierault, Barbara O’Neal Samuel, Victoria Balska, THANK YOU. Your feedback, support, and attention to detail have been instrumental in my finished product. Victoria, your proofreading was a life saver!

T
o Dianne K. Salerni
and Marcy Hatch for helping me on my first pages for years now. Love First Impressions so much!

T
o my writer
friends around the world, you make this journey worthwhile. I adore all of you and your friendship. Especially the IWSG bloggers, #NALitChat Twitter crowd, New Adult Street Team, NAAU, SFR Brigade, Daydreamers Anonymous, Writer Support 4 U, and UtopYA con. It’s a fantastic feeling being indie pubbed and knowing all of you guys are there for love and support. I’m privileged to be among such creative, talented, and smart individuals.

T
o Jaycee DeLorenzo
for another fabulous cover, thank you. And to Brinda Berry for your tech skills, I’m forever grateful. D.A. Botta for your dreamy PR work.

N
ate
, for your unyielding support and encouragement. Sammy and Abby, because you inspire me every day, just by being who you are. My parents, for understanding that just because I write about certain characters, doesn’t mean I am them, and for always reminding me that imagination is as equally important as knowledge.

A
s always
, heartfelt gratitude to my Father in heaven, who has blessed me beyond anything I could ever deserve.

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