Tempest (23 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

OCTOBER 13, 2007, 2:07
A.M.

I leaned against the sink and turned on the water, splashing some on my face. I waited another couple of minutes before leaving the bathroom and returning to the living room.

“Are you okay?” Dad asked.

I sank into the couch. “Yeah. False alarm.”

Chief Marshall spoke from the armchair he occupied across the room. “You recognized me, last night, in the car,” he prompted.

I glanced quickly at Dad and Melvin, leaning against the wall, before answering. Then, as quick as fingers snapping, an image popped into my head, like it had with Toby’s lock. “You were in a bathroom … at a restaurant and you handed me a paper towel, right?”

How did I remember that now and not when I jumped back to 1996?

“Correct. I was checking up on you after you disappeared from Spain. Is that the only time you’ve seen me?” His eyes beamed into mine like he could read my mind.

“Well … not exactly.”
Just make up something
. “You were in my house once. In the future. I came home and you were sitting at the table with Dad. I remember thinking you looked familiar then, but I didn’t say anything.”

“Jackson, when was the first time you time-traveled? Do you remember the date?” Melvin asked.

I turned my eyes back in his direction. This was an opportunity to tell the truth. “November twelfth, 2008. I was eighteen. It just … happened in the middle of my French poetry class. One minute I was falling asleep at my desk, the next I was standing outside my dorm. It took me a while to figure out what had happened.”

And that I wasn’t completely insane.

Melvin shook his head. “Amazing.”

“What’s amazing about being stuck two years in the past?” I asked.

“Not that part, but these abilities of yours, and you’re not even—”

Dad elbowed him in the side. “Let’s not throw too much at him tonight.”

“How did you know what I can do? The time-travel part?” I asked Dad.

Melvin and Dad exchanged a long look and then Melvin answered for him. “You carry a rare gene. We refer to it as the Tempus gene. It’s been known to produce certain symptoms or abilities.”

“What do you mean ‘it’s been known’? Like … there are others?”

Like the man in the park today? One of the last people I saw in 2009.

“Time jumpers have been traced throughout history, for centuries. But it’s been kept a secret,” Marshall said.

They all waited for me to respond, probably thinking I was in shock. And believe me, I was, but mostly I needed time to plan my words carefully. “So, that guy at the park and that woman … are they time travelers, too? Can they just do it whenever they want?”

“That depends on the individual,” Dr. Melvin said. “Based on the information we’ve been able to obtain, ability levels vary. What kind of control do you have over this skill?”

“I can’t do it anymore … it happened twice before this last jump … but those were very different.”

Dr. Melvin straightened up and strolled over quickly, then sat on the coffee table in front of me. “You said you’re stuck two years in the past, right? But what about those other jumps? How did you keep from getting stuck during those jumps?”

I explained the details of jumping, up until the point where I got stranded here. I tried to put as much real detail as I could into the two jumps I told them about.

“Do you ever see yourself when you jump into the past?” Melvin asked. His face had this intense look I’d never seen before.

“Once. The second jump … I ran into myself at work…”

Somehow that one statement caused both Marshall and Dad to slip from their composed selves. Marshall came over and sat next to Melvin. Then Dad said, “Could be a hallucination of seeing himself. The actual memory colliding with the dive into the past.”

“Maybe, but why don’t I have another self here? The other me totally vanished from Spain.”

“He hasn’t been making full jumps!” Melvin said suddenly. His face had the same look of greedy excitement that Chief Marshall had in 1996. “The irony is just incredible. Half-breed makes half-jumps—”

“Melvin!” Dad said sharply.

“Half-breed?” I asked. “Half-jumps?”

Dead silence. Then Dad and Melvin both started talking at once.

“Well … the gene isn’t identical to the others,” Melvin stammered.

“Not identical?” Okay, this was getting really weird.

“In documented history. Melvin knows a little—”

“Enough!” Marshall said before staring straight at me. “Dr. Melvin is an expert in this recessive gene. Probably more knowledgeable than anyone in the world. The CIA has no choice but to closely monitor anyone carrying the Tempus gene. I think what we’re dealing with is a simple matter of evolution. This is why you’re different from other documented cases. Change over the course of time.”

Yeah, right. More missing pieces. Melvin’s slip with the “half-breed” comment, and then I remembered Dad’s slip the other night when he stormed out of the office.

He’s nothing like them.

Maybe he just meant I wouldn’t use my abilities to destroy the world. But other people would? Everyone except me?

“Technically, he did jump all the way once,” Melvin said, looking over my shoulder. “He probably could—”

“Dr. Melvin, I think Jackson’s heard enough for today.” Dad stared at him and it was almost like his eyes were pleading with Melvin. “He’s just a kid. You heard him, he said he can’t do it again.”

I hid my reaction to what Melvin had just said, like I didn’t even get it. But I did. He was talking about what I had done when I left Holly.

A full jump. Changing my home base. That’s why it was different.

“So the CIA is watching all these other time-traveling people? And they’re all bad? Like, destroy-the-world bad?”

“It’s complicated,” Dad said. “The ones we know of are all working against us. We call them EOTs.”

“EOTs?”

“Enemies of Time.”

So the bad guys had a nickname
. “What makes them so bad?”

“It’s hard to explain in such a short time, but mostly it’s a power struggle we deal with constantly,” Marshall said. “Something an average citizen like yourself would have no knowledge of, and would never understand what might happen if past events are altered. Or if future events are revealed.”

They can go to the future?
They can alter things?

“I think we’ve already established that I’m not an average citizen,” I said.

“And you’re not a highly trained special agent for the CIA, either,” Marshall snapped.

If Chief Marshall was trying to convince me that the CIA were the good guys, he totally sucked at it. “Fine, if you’re not going to tell me anything else about why I’m a crazy freak of nature, then I’m ready to go home.”

“There’s not much else to tell,” Dad said, trying to use the good-cop tone with me. “Maybe if we knew more about you and if Dr. Melvin could—”

It was just like Adam had said. They would try to dig for as much information as they could get. This was one game I knew I could play well. I’d spent nearly a year time-traveling and covering it up. Making up stories. Of course, fooling 009 Holly was probably a little easier than fooling these dudes. But I had kept it from my dad in 2009, too.

“I’m done talking for tonight,” I said.

“Fine,” Marshall snapped.

Melvin handed me a tiny red pill and a glass of water. “This will make you sleepy,” he said to me, like I was a child about to have a tooth pulled.

“What, no poisoned rag?” I asked bitterly.

“This location is only known to myself and Agent Meyer. Even Dr. Melvin requests to be kept in the dark. For his own safety,” Marshall said.

Yeah, because he’s an old, round doctor with a drawer full of lollipops.
Not exactly someone who could strangle a man with his bare hands.

“Also, to anyone outside of this room, you are Jackson Meyer, a seventeen-year-old kid whose father is a CEO, understood?” Marshall said.

“Yeah, I get it.”

I stared down at the red capsule and reminded myself that if they wanted to kill me, they would have done it already and probably would have used a more exciting method than swallowing a pill.

Thirty more seconds of this secret location was all I remembered. My mind faded into a state of black nothingness. And for the first time in weeks, I truly wanted to be back in my old home base. 2009. My true present day. Pretending to be this other me, maybe forever, totally sucked.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

OCTOBER 13, 2007, 9:00
A.M.

I woke up Saturday morning safe and sound in my own bed. The only damage I had left over from the night before was a pounding headache. After showering and getting dressed, I grabbed my journal and started writing every detail I could recall from the day before. I’d been slacking on writing for the past few weeks, but things were a little different now.

Apparently I’m a genetic freak of nature. Not just weird time-traveling genes, but one that has somehow evolved so my method of time travel is so weird it even freaked out Dr. Melvin. Basically: half-jumps don’t change anything, full jumps either change the past or send you to this alternate universe in the past. Assuming Adam’s theory is correct. Or the future? Assuming what Marshall and Dr. Melvin said is correct. Great.

If Dad and Melvin knew about my messed-up brain and genetics, then why didn’t they just tell me what might happen so I could have been prepared? Is it possible Dad knew about me in 2009 and didn’t say anything? The so-called Enemies of Time knew in 2009, if they ended up in Holly’s dorm room. And I find it very interesting that my father happens to work for people who fight evil time travelers and he also happens to have adopted a child who is a time traveler. Coincidence? Somehow I doubt it.

If I get some more information out of Dr. Melvin, then maybe there’s a way for me to get back to 2009 and actually change things.

I left my room and wandered toward the kitchen. Jenni Stewart was sitting on the couch in the living room, with a laptop and a pile of papers spread out all over the coffee table.

“Is this your new office?” I asked her.

She continued to stare at the computer screen. “I’ve been assigned to keep an eye on you, make sure there were no damaging side effects to whatever they drugged you with last night.”

She was speaking with a heavy Southern accent today, something I hadn’t noticed before. “What’s with the accent? Or is this the real you?”

“You have to know me very well to find out which is the real me,” she said. “I specialize in undercover operations.”

That I believed. I’d seen her change gears so fast I could hardly keep up. “So, my dad’s not home?”

“He’ll be back later, I think,” she said.

I plopped down beside her and leaned over to look at the computer screen. “Is that something supersecret you’re working on?”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s a ten-page paper on disease in African countries. For Anthropology 108.”

“You’re a college student?”

She shrugged. “Sometimes. It’s a cover I can do fairly well.”

“Probably not nearly as good as your badass secretary role,” I said, and she cracked a smile. “Do you have evil time travelers in your anthropology class or something?”

That was my attempt at casually opening up the dialogue for me to ask questions. But her fingers froze over the keyboard and she leaned back against the couch before turning her eyes on me. “I can’t believe they told you about Tempest.”

“What’s Tempest?”

Her face twisted with confusion. “That’s my division … of the CIA … your dad’s, too. We’re sort of the bottom layer. People know about us, they’ve heard the name Tempest, but unless you’re in this division, you don’t know what we do. Not even the agents with the highest level of clearance.”

Maybe I wasn’t supposed to tell her that I knew? Chief Marshall and Dad had no choice but to tell me. Obviously, I already knew about time travel. But how could I justify that to Jenni Stewart without telling her about me? “Um … I saw one of them … the Enemies of Time or whatever … I saw one disappear.”

“Wow,” she said. “I’m still surprised they didn’t use memory modification drugs or something. Security is beyond tight in this division.”

The questions were flooding in because Jenni Stewart wasn’t nearly as intimidating as Chief Marshall and I could actually concentrate on what I still needed to find out. “The dude with the red hair that you kicked in the face … he vanished, didn’t he?”

“Yeah. His name is Raymond and he’s a pain in the ass.”

“What about the blond chick that passed out? What did they do with her?” I asked.

Jenni shook her head. “I don’t know. I imagine they’d try to get more information out of her, for the list.”

“The list?”

“Marshall’s list.” She grabbed a cushion and put it behind her back, before stretching out her legs across the couch. “He drags information out of them about the future, like people the opposition might try to assassinate, so we can prevent it. It’s mostly political figures or scientists. Sometimes it’s just an event that we need to stop.”

“It’s so crazy that people can time-travel to the future,” I said, but the more I thought about it, the more vague it seemed. What exactly was the future? To me it was any date beyond October 30, 2009. But if one of the other time travelers was born after me or before … just thinking about time that way made my head spin.

“Marshall and Dr. Melvin think it’s possible some of them can travel outside the span of their own lives, but of course—”

“You have no idea what years that involves,” I finished. Her explanation of calling it the span of their own lives was much easier to understand than
past, present,
and
future
. “If time travelers have been around for centuries, like Marshall said, maybe they came from way in the past.”

“It’s hard to say. We just go where we’re told,” she said. “At least that’s what I do, but then again, I’m new.”

“So, that’s what Tempest does … follows Marshall’s list.” I sank farther into the couch, deep in thought. “But how do you fight off people who just pop in and out like that?”