The Children Who Time Lost (40 page)

I squeezed the bottom of my seat. I suspected where he was going with the story but needed to hear it from his mouth.

“In the first year of the Lotto, a particular group of children sent back from the future were never meant to make it home to 2022. Instead, they were sent here, to 2013. From the stories I heard, they became the first Shrinik infants to survive for over a year, pre-2108. But I don’t know what happened to them after, or the women who won them. After that, however, the Orchestrator perfected his work and my kind could live in any time period.”

Doug gasped and hung his head back.

A tear fell from my left eye. I looked at Doug. “So the person who helped you was right, they’ve been here in 2013 all along.” I rubbed the back of his head.

Curtis glanced at Doug. “I don’t understand. Did I say something wrong?”

“His wife was one of the women who won in 2022,” I said.

Curtis stared at Doug. His high cheekbones seemed to expand with his frown. “The children who time lost. Your wife was with them?”

Doug wiped his eyes and sniffled. “Is there any way she could still be alive, in this time period?”

“I think there is a chance that she is, yes.” He turned to me. “Your son, too.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

W
e had been driving for almost four hours when Michael directed Manuel off I-80 toward Reno. The car’s digital clock read 3:30 a.m., but I didn’t feel tired. My mind was going in every direction. Manuel left the highway without asking any questions. I glanced back to see Doug staring out the window, deep in thought. I wished I knew how to ease his pain. Finding out that his wife had been kidnapped through time in order to help acclimatize an alien species to Earth’s atmosphere was a lot to take in, no matter how anyone tried to spin it. I thought of Dylan and wondered what they wanted with him. Could he be part of their sick experiments, too?

Michael continued giving Manuel directions, and he kept following them, taking left and right turns in quick succession.

“Where are we headed?” Doug asked.

I looked at his red eyes and felt pity for him.

“We need a plan of action,” Michael said. “It’s probably best we take a break now anyway.”

We were now in the heart of Reno and I soon realized where we were going. The neon lights and tall buildings were very Nevada, but we didn’t have time to enjoy a few hours at the slots or even the blackjack table. I used to be quite good at blackjack, or so Kevin had told me. I squeezed out a thin smile.
I still think he used to let me win.
Manuel stopped behind a stretch limousine outside the Peppermill Resort Spa and Casino Hotel. We got to the entrance a few minutes later. He put the car in “park” but left the engine running. A valet ran out, but Manuel sent him back with a wave of his hand. He glanced in the rearview mirror and shut the engine off.

“So how do we do this?” Doug said. I noticed the usual steel back in his voice. He was bottling his emotions well.

“Three rooms,” Michael said. “Rachel gets one.” He nodded at Curtis. “You stay with him, and Manuel and I take the last one.”

“Wouldn’t it be suspicious if we all walked in together?” I said. “What if our descriptions are out there?”

“Already thought of that,” Michael said. He peered through the double doors of the hotel and I followed his gaze.

The casino was to the right and looked quite busy. Blue neon lights illuminated the floor leading to it. The hotel looked so “Las Vegas” that I felt a bit of nostalgia. Kevin and I had honeymooned in Vegas, and so many memories came flooding back. I shifted my gaze left, to the foyer leading to the hotel’s reception desk. It was almost completely empty.

Michael frowned. “We’ll wait till it gets busier and then we’ll go in. They don’t look too closely here when there are paying customers all over the place.”

“What about the cameras?” I said.

“By the time anyone looking for us watches them, we’ll be long gone.” Michael pointed toward the turn to a large parking lot a few yards to the right.

Manuel started the car and drove into the lot. After he turned the engine off again, Michael flipped through the news channels on the radio. Most spoke of the devastation caused by the meteor and the president’s pledge to pump as much money as possible into rebuilding the damaged homes and businesses. But not a single peep about any of us was heard. I opened the door to stretch my legs. The rest followed me out and did the same. A brisk wind stirred the desert air, but the temperature was probably still in the high sixties. We got back into the car and fixed our gazes on the hotel’s entrance, awaiting the right moment to enter.

“You still haven’t told us how you’re here for the Orchestrator,” Doug said to Curtis.

I stared at him, baffled. Then I remembered what Curtis had said earlier.

Curtis wiped the bridge of his nose and leaned forward. “It’s said that before the Orchestrator encountered my race, when he was just a boy, he always kept a journal. From what I hear, he never stopped keeping it up to date. It is said that the journal became one of our most valued treasures, because it held information about his experiences since meeting the Shriniks that saved his life. In it is the molecular code for the Crixanipam drug.” He nodded at Michael. “Probably what you and the man you called Jarrod were given to work with.” He coughed. “It’s also supposed to contain the experiments he carried out to alter our DNA and help with our acclimatization to Earth’s atmosphere. Newborn children, too. But most importantly, it contains huge clues as to who he is.”

We were silent for a moment.

“Are you saying what I think you are?” I said.

“Yep. My task was to take the journal to the future with me. It’s believed to be compromised here. My guess is they are worried about you.”

I grimaced and bumped my head against the window a few times. When I looked at Michael and Doug, they all wore the same faces. We might have missed a great opportunity.

“Damn,” Doug shouted. He hit the window with his fists. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I did,” Curtis said. “I told you I needed to go with them, but you wouldn’t listen.”

We all sat still, staring into the dark skies.

“Did they have it with them when they came for you?” Michael said.

“Probably not. The book is kept in a safe at all times, and the only people who have access are senior members of the Time Travel Committee.”

“The Time Travel Committee?” I said.

“They’re the most powerful of our people. The good guys, if you want. We compare them to presidents here on Earth. It’s only them and a few others who know the Orchestrator’s true identity.”

“The good guys?” I said. ‘How can you call them good? They killed my husband and God knows how many other people. It’s them we’re running from. The guy back there, Lorenzo—he’s the one who took my son. They’re not good.”

“They’re just trying to protect themselves,” Curtis said. “You’re a pretty big breach.”

I frowned at the skies. “So if these Time Travel Committee people are so good, why can’t we just go to them to help us?”

“What you’re doing is still treason. Traveling to the past alone can get you the death penalty. As far as they’re concerned, you’re a rogue traveler as well. I’m sure you believe you’re innocent of whatever charges they’ve placed on your head, but you’re still considered a threat by them.”

I stared at the dashboard in silence.

“So if they did pick you up,” Michael said, “would they have taken you to one of these important people?”

Curtis nodded.

“But where are they?” I said. “How can we get to them?”

“We don’t. They come to us. I told you, they’re the highest dignitaries of our race. I have no doubt that those living on Earth would be in powerful positions—high-powered celebrities, politicians. They won’t be easily accessible.”

“You leave that to me,” Michael said.

Curtis gave him a bewildered look.

“In my position, I’m able to get face-to-face meetings with quite a few people.”

Curtis nodded.

“So which one of these important people will have the journal?” I asked.

“As far as I know, it’s kept in the Sacramento facility. The key to the safe it’s in is passed between members of the committee, but it must always remain in Sacramento unless it needs to be moved. It is there I believe they were taking me.”

“So now you didn’t come, one of them will take it from there?” Doug said.

“Perhaps. But not immediately. For every change of protocol, they reassess security first before executing any plans. Besides, as I said, they’ll wait to see if I still show up in the next few hours. I’d say we have a day, maybe two, before they move it.”

“So what do we do?” I asked. No one answered.

Curtis looked into each of our faces and then spoke. “If I were you guys, I’d back off for now. Lay low. Let me go back to them and say I got lost. I’ll take the journal back and continue as before. When I know it’s being moved again, I’ll find a way to let you guys know and we can maybe plan to steal it. It might be a while before it resurfaces, but at least it’ll be a well-thought-out mission.”

Doug shook his head. “No way. If it’s still in Sacramento, our only play is to take it now. There’s no way we can allow it to go to 2086. God knows when we’ll ever see it again. It’s probably the only way I’ll see my wife again, and Rachel her son.”

“So what are you suggesting?” Michael said. “Some sort of infiltration?”

“Why not?” Manuel added. I looked at him, but not with surprise this time. “A bit of planning and we can be in and out. You know what I’m saying?” His optimistic expression met with blank stares.

I leaned toward Curtis. “What’s security like?”

“A few armed guards on the grounds surrounding the facility. Humans and Shriniks. Nothing too serious.”

“Then it can be done?” Michael said.

“If we execute our plans perfectly, then yes, maybe. But we’ll need a huge amount of luck, too.”

“Do you think my son will be there?” I could feel Doug staring at me. “And his wife?”

Curtis seemed to consider his words before speaking. “Possibly, but I can’t guarantee that.”

Michael pulled his cell out. “Where in Sacramento is this place?”

Curtis frowned and looked toward the sky. “From what I remember, it’s off Jackson Highway. Big industrial place. Some sort of research facility. We won’t miss it. Acres and acres of land.”

Michael pressed a number of buttons on his phone. After a brief pause, as if waiting for confirmation that a message had been sent, he said, “We’ll make our own luck.”

He returned the phone to his pocket and tapped Manuel on the shoulder. The stocky driver opened his door. Michael did the same.

“What was that?” Doug said.

Michael turned and stared at him.

“Who did you just message?”

“Someone I can trust. We’re going to need every last bit of information about the area that we can get.” He got out and followed Manuel toward the hotel entrance. I went after them. Doug and Curtis got out last. Doug walked a few steps behind the Shrinik, his right hand in his pants pocket, where I knew he kept his gun.

Check-in was painless. Michael didn’t use his real name, but the air of authority the young male hotel clerk seemed to sense in him ensured that we were not kept waiting for long. I’d expected to at least have to show the driver’s license I’d swiped.

My room was the second on the right after we left the elevator on the fifth floor. Doug and Curtis’ room was opposite, while Michael and Manuel’s was four doors down. I nodded at them and entered my room. The cream walls made the room homey. The bed was smaller than at the last hotel but had almost twice as many pillows. I took a long look around the room, checking for anything suspicious. I still couldn’t relax just anywhere; paranoia always set in. I crashed onto the bed after a few minutes of disturbing well-arranged bedding and toiletries. It felt good after being on the road for so long. I diluted my medication with water and gulped it down. I had less than half left, giving me maybe another week or two. I stared at the bottle for a while, going over the things I now knew about Jarrod. If he were capable of so much evil, I had no idea what I was actually taking. I squeezed the bottle and walked to the window. I opened it and pulled my arm back to throw the bottle out, but I couldn’t. It had become an addiction. I had to keep taking it. There was no other way. I didn’t care what happened to me. I was a mother, and my responsibilities lay with ensuring that my son was safe. I closed the window and put the medication back on the table.