47

AMONG THE TOMBS

ONE MORE JUMP.

These coordinates—not random—brought Eliot to Rome’s southern outskirts, where buildings yielded to tombs. All along the Appian Way, the dead made themselves known with epitaphs; patricians’ stone likenesses guarding whatever was left of their mortal husks. Trees stretched alongside the stillness, their branches scratching blue, making the sky that much larger. Eliot felt like the only soul beneath it. She wasn’t, of course. The Ab Aeterno lurked behind these tombs; Burg and Doc and Nicholas going frantic within its unseen walls at Empra’s blackout. Empra, who was nearer than they knew, seized by a new contraction Eliot could hear through Gram’s side of the comm.

“You’re doing fine, Ms. McCarthy,” the Engineer coached.

“Ms. McCarthy? Way to make a woman feel old. Where’s Gaius—ah!” A stab of pain, heard not just through electronics, but from the other side of the road.

“He’s coming,” Gram assured her. “He’ll be here.”

Sun glared off Eliot’s bare scalp as she slipped the pocket universe from her wrist. Her exhaustion bordered on sinister: two palms to earth, a few dry heaves, collapse now, rest your bones. The background voices twining through her comm wouldn’t let her: Empra huffing, Priya calling Far’s name, Gram’s encouragements, Imogen apologizing for not being at her station. All of them were connected, close to a turning point, and it was up to Eliot to push them through.

Once the worst of the nausea rolled past, she opened her pocket universe. Her father’s curls were the first thing she saw through the interdimensional slip, followed by brawny arms. He’d been… napping. On a pile of dresses nonetheless. Gaius blinked at the sudden daylight, starting when he saw Eliot haloed in it.

“It’s okay,” she reassured him in Latin. “Could you pass me that box?”

Gaius frowned at the velvet as he grabbed it. “What creature did such fur belong to?”

“A velveteen rabbit.”

“Truly? I’ve never seen a rabbit so blue.” The sincerity in Gaius’s voice only sharpened her guilt. This was no time to go planting stories of cerulean wildlife into ancient Roman mythos. Though a velvet blue rabbit paled against everything else her father had seen today. Eliot wondered what he made of all this….

Gaius passed her the box. Eliot opened it, lifting Priya’s letter to see the chip beneath, items as fragile as they were forever. Paper covered with permanent ink. See-through circuits filled with everything Eliot was, everything the crew members of the Invictus wanted to be. Was it enough, to place these in Empra’s hands? With so much on the chip, would future Far bother watching a file called “You Rat You Burn”? Certainly, the name was in their humor set, but the label needed to be more than just funny. It needed to be life—drink of water, breath of air, undeniable.

But what? “Watch Me Now” or “Yield to New Life Course”?

Both were throat-snatchy. Neither felt right.

Her father pulled himself out of the earth, staring at the collection of pale tombs around them. He walked like a man unused to freedom—hesitant at first, then overswift—toward the nearest stone, and placed his palm over its chiseled letters: TU FUI, EGO ERIS.

“Not a dream,” he declared once he found the world solid enough to push back. “Where is Empra?”

The final cry of a contraction answered him. Gaius’s face went sharp at the scream, and when he took off running, Eliot did not stop him. It was good that he hurry….

“Vera?”

YES, ELIOT?

“Program the memory chip’s hologram function to respond exclusively to Farway Gaius McCarthy’s voice. Also, I’d like to relabel ‘You Rat You Burn.’”

VOICE RECOGNITION HAS BEEN REASSIGNED. WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE TO RELABEL THE FILE?

Eliot stared at the words her father had touched. The poetry of them tugged, their undertow meaning stretching through her. Not déjà vu but a similar feeling: cat paws splayed in sunlight, fireflies clinging to dusk’s edge, a wave’s foam getting caught between your toes, bursting one bubble at a time. Life. As it was, as it would be.

Her skin prickled when she read the phrase again, aloud.

Once the naming was done, Eliot sealed her pocket universe and went to join the others. She found Gram standing behind one of the nearby tombs, trying his best to ignore the fact that Far’s parents were kissing. Kissing being the G-rated term. Their level of PDA was impressive, turning Eliot into the embarrassed teenage daughter she was.

“Good job convincing Empra to leave with you.” Gram nearly leaped from his skin when she sidled next to him. “Sorry! Not much I can do in the way of sloshing here.”

“Suppose not.” The Engineer looked around the tombs, laced with grass that had seen better seasons. The Ab Aeterno’s field was a few corners away, out of sight, within sprinting distance. “I return the felicitations. Heard some trouble through the comm.”

“Nothing Priya and Imogen couldn’t manage.” Speaking of… “I can take this from here. You should get back to the Invictus. Far’s fight is almost over, and you’ll be needed.”

“Five minutes.” Gram paused one step in, half torn. “That’s all you’ve got. Any longer and Far might make his debut on the Ab Aeterno again. We shouldn’t risk the window with this pivot point.”

“I won’t,” she assured him. “I’ve come this far. Go back to Imogen.”

With a nod, Gram left. Eliot pressed the velvet box to her heart and waited while Empra and Gaius exchanged hungry gazes, quiet Latin. Her fingers wove through his curls and his hands stroked her face, thumbs wiping tears that sounded different from the ones on the datastream—sad, yes, but not broken. There was room for a laugh when Empra caught sight of Gaius’s garments.

“Is he wearing bedsheets?” The question, meant for Gram, stalled when Empra found Eliot in his place. “Who are you?”

The velvet box was stronger than it looked, for how Eliot gripped the corners. It was her own flesh that dented, her own thoughts that winced: I’m your daughter from another life. “No one important. I have to take you back to the Ab Aeterno soon, so say your piece.”

“‘From eternity.’” Gaius caught on to the ship’s Latin name. “That’s where you must return, yes?”

“Yes. I—I don’t want to leave you, Gaius.”

“You were never meant to stay, Empra of the Elsewhere Skies. That our lives intersected and created something new—” Gaius looked to her swollen belly. “That has blessed me more than I can say.”

Fresh tears spread daylight across Empra’s face. Were they for birth or good-bye, Eliot wondered. Agony made itself known in each, and both were drawing near.

“Tempus venit.” Eliot spoke Latin as she stepped away from the grave, so both her parents could understand. Imogen, too. There was background mumbling as the words were passed along to Priya, and to Far through her.

It’s time.

Empra nodded, her arms twined around Gaius. She leaned forward, kissed him, whispered something only he could hear, listened as he whispered something back. She kissed him again. She let go.

“The world you return to…” Eliot switched to Central’s tongue. “It won’t be the same as the one you left, but you shouldn’t fear. It means the universe didn’t end.”

“End?” Empra flinched. “I hashed things up that much?”

“You won’t, if you jump back to Central as soon as possible.” Eliot pressed the box into her mother’s hands. “This is for your son. Give it to him on his seventeenth birthday—no sooner, no later. His future depends on it.”

Empra didn’t seem to know what to make of the gift or its giver. “My son, you know him?”

“I did.” The tense slipped out, caught both women in the gut. Eliot didn’t try to recover. “Let’s get you back to your ship. The longer you stay, the more you risk.”

At this, her mother accepted the box and walked to the end of the tombs, into the field beyond. Its emptiness shimmered with morning. Strings of dew caught the edge of Empra’s stola as she crossed the grass, turning indigo into darkest night.

Gaius didn’t fight when Eliot grabbed his arm to keep him from following. “Where is she going?”

“You’ll see.”

The center of the field—that was where the Ab Aeterno hid in the open, holo-shield heavens matching the true thing. If Eliot hadn’t watched the datastream, she might’ve jumped when the hatch opened, time machine’s inner workings punching out sky. Burg emerged, beside himself, scooping Empra off her feet with windmill arms and rushing her back to the ship. There was a second of panic—white lab coat, blinking console lights—and then the door shut.

The field was just a field again.

“Eternity.” Gaius knelt to touch the dry grass. His curls wrote haywire lines around him as he looked back at Eliot. “But why did you not join them?”

“Mine is a different route.” Once the Ab Aeterno peeled out of this time, a new world would branch out, and if Eliot crossed the pivot point, she risked dragging the decay with her. If she jumped to the past, she could scan herself to make sure Far’s death had eradicated the countersignature.

Best move fast. Empra’s CTM was due to jump any moment.

“What about me?” Gaius asked. “Where should I go?”

“You’re a free man—” Eliot’s explanation dried up as she stared at the equations on her interface, where digits had gone from steady to soluble. Numbers vanished, and when Eliot looked past them, she found the rest of the world disappearing, too.

Air above and earth below, unbecoming as one. Trees bent from the roots up. Sunlight shuddered. Tombs forgot their own names, and the soil no longer understood its purpose. Eliot’s own shout was stripped from her throat, but at least her hands still worked. The bedsheet-and-floss toga held when she pulled her father close.

It was too early. It was too late.

It was no time at all.