7

BRIDGER

FEBRUARY 11, 2147

Two hours after Grandma busts me out of the clinic, Shan and I follow her into what used to be Dad’s apartment. Since Shan and I now own it, we agreed to let her stay here when she moved back to New Denver from her last assignment in Chicago. Mom didn’t like that at all. She said we barely knew Grandma. Of course, that’s ridiculous, because we visited her once or twice a year while growing up. And even though we were never that close, she’s here for us now, at least. I can’t remember the last time I saw Mom’s parents. They’re too busy traveling the globe on assignments for the DTA.

I toss my portacase on the nearest chair. Grandma immediately heads to her bedroom, calling over her shoulder, “I have a splitting headache, boys. I’m going to take something for it and shower, and I’ll be out in a little while.”

Shan and I stand awkwardly in the living room, not saying anything. This is only the second time I’ve been here since Grandma moved in. I’m pretty sure this is Shan’s first time since right after Dad died. The apartment still looks the same as when he was still alive. White walls; black overstuffed couch and chairs; antiques from past time trips; and family digigraphs displayed on the walls. Even the large digigraphs playing scenes from Dad’s favorite old films still hang across from the couch. I find myself smiling at the one showing scenes from an ancient movie called Blade Runner. The futuristic city looks so cheesy, but Dad loved it. The only thing that’s changed since Grandma moved in is that she’s added a few digigraphs of her own.

Shan glances around the room and closes his eyes for a few moments. I wonder if he’s feeling Dad’s loss as much as I am. Especially since we’ve reached the first anniversary of his death.

Three sharp beeps emit from the TeleNet Screen. That’s the signal for an incoming house-comm. A feminine voice announces that it’s from Professor Telfair March.

I give the command to accept the comm. Professor March’s upper body appears on the screen. To say he looks worried is an understatement.

“Bridger! How are you feeling? I just found out about your accident,” he says in a rush. He rubs his right hand across his buzzed hair, like he always does when he’s nervous. I’ve learned a lot of his habits over the years. Not only was he my former professor, he was also Dad’s best friend, ever since their days at the Academy. Dad used to joke that the professor was closer to him than he was to his own sister, Olivia March.

“I’m okay. It was …” I trail off, not wanting to talk about it in front of Shan.

But Shan blurts out, “He completely wilded out after his time trip. Everyone thinks he might go insane again.”

“Really, Shan? Did you have to say it like that? And how do you even know that?” I ask, my face feeling way too hot.

Shan glares at me. “What’s the big deal? Everybody knows what happened. Did you think I wouldn’t find out? I’m not a baby, you know.”

A string of insults flies through my mind, but before I can let loose, Professor March says, “Okay, that’s enough boys.”

“But I didn’t do anything. I just told the truth,” Shan says.

Any thought of lashing out at Shan evaporates when he says those words. So everybody thinks I’m going to wild out again. What if they’re right? What if the DTA decides to take even more of my memories to keep me under control? Soon I’ll be no better than a Null. I lower my eyes, focusing on my hands. Unconsciously, I’ve started rubbing a fist into the palm of my other hand.

“Bridger, look at me,” the professor commands, this time in a softer voice. I slowly lift my head and make eye contact with him. For a moment, he places his fingers over his mouth. The bright gold of his antique watch stands out against his dark brown skin. Finally, he says, “It’s true, we all know what happened to you yesterday. But nobody is holding anything against you. We were on the cusp of a major crisis. With all that stress, I completely understand why it would be overwhelming for you.”

All I can feel is shame. My eyes drift away from the screen. I catch Shan staring at me with his arms wrapped tightly against his chest. It’s almost like he’s worried.

Professor March continues, “I didn’t mean to upset you. I just wanted to check in myself, to see if you’re all right. Well, I wanted to make sure both of you are fine. Things are pretty scary now.”

“I’m fine,” Shan says. “I’m just happy that Grandma was able to get us. I didn’t want to have to stay at the Academy all weekend.

“You’re lucky. I’m on Warden Duty, so I can’t go anywhere,” Professor March answers with a grin. Focusing on me again, he says, “I really wanted to visit you in the med center earlier, but I couldn’t leave the remaining cadets unattended.”

“It’s fine, sir. Really. And besides, Chancellor Tyson and General Anderson visited me. I had plenty of company.”

Professor March arches one eyebrow. “Oh really? I bet that was a … nice surprise.”

“It wasn’t, until Grandma showed up and bullied them into letting her take Shan and me with her,” I say with a smirk.

“That sounds like the Judith Creed I know,” he replies, laughing. “Anyway, I have some chocolate bars that I retrieved on my last time trip. I’ll give them to you when you get back to school. You know, a little pick-me-up.”

“Oh wow, thanks, Professor,” Shan gushes. We rarely get to have chocolate.

“Professor, you really didn’t have to do that,” I say.

He shrugs, grinning. “Of course I did. I promised Leithan I’d look out for you two, and I reserve the right to spoil you when I can. Now, I’ve got to go, but if either of you need me for anything, please send a comm. You know I’ll do whatever I can to help you boys.”

After the comm ends, Shan’s happiness quickly deflates. He tells me he’s going to his room and starts to walk away. But he hesitates just before reaching the short hallway leading to our bedrooms. Turning back to face me, he says, “I’m sorry, Bridger. I really didn’t mean anything back there.”

He bites the inside of his cheek like he does when he’s nervous. I want to say something in return, but all I can think about is how he’s starting to look more and more like Dad. Especially since he turned fourteen and hit another growth spurt. He’s now about the same height as Dad, and he has the same hazel eyes and light brown hair. But he seems thinner and paler than usual. Sure, I see him on campus sometimes, and at Mom’s apartment almost every weekend, but he usually keeps to himself. He’s always been absorbed in his Sim Games, or out with other Level 1 cadets. The few times he’s tried to talk to me, I’ve had other plans.

“Don’t worry about it, we’re solid.” Something about the way he’s looking at me seems kind of off. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah. I’m just worn out. Yesterday was wild, right?”

I offer a tentative smile. “Yeah, it was intense.”

Shan returns the smile, but it’s tinged with sadness. He seems like he wants to say something else, but he just turns and goes on to his room. I get an urge to follow. Something definitely isn’t right with him. But I stop myself. What would I say? It’s not like we’ve ever been close. He’s always been a complete mama’s boy. Her favorite. I’m not sure he would really listen to me, even if I knew what to say.

Not really wanting to be confined to my room just yet, I wander over to the closest table with digigraphs resting atop it. I scan them, particularly paying attention to the new ones that belong to Grandma. One really stands out, and I pick up the delicate crystal frame. The scene on loop is from the day Mom and Dad brought Shan home after he was born. Thanks to those genetic modifications that allow us to retain more memories than Purists, I remember that day, even though I was only four. Looking at the digigraph brings back a flood of memories.

I’m waiting in the apartment with Grandma, bouncing with excitement. She came to New Denver to stay with me while Mom and Dad were at the med center. “When are they gonna get here?” I ask over and over.

“Soon. They’re on the way home.”

Then the door opens and Dad sweeps in, looking so happy and alive. Mom follows, clutching baby Shan close to her chest. He’s wrapped in a soft green blanket. Immediately, Grandma gets up and leads me over to them. I’m not thrilled about meeting this tiny person who’s taking all the attention from me, but Dad picks me up and holds me just as close as Mom holds the new baby. His familiar, woodsy scent calms my anxiety.

“Son, you’re a big brother now. You have a big responsibility to protect the baby. He’s going to need you, whether he knows it or not. Do you think you can always protect him?”

Of course, being four years old, I agree. “Yes, Daddy. I’ll keep him safe for you and Mommy.”

Dad ruffles my hair, grinning. “That’s my brave boy.”

And then they let me hold Shan, who promptly starts screaming. But that doesn’t matter, because we’re all together. A whole, happy family.

For a short while, anyway.

As I replace the digigraph, Grandma comes back in the room. She’s changed into some regs—a shiny gray shirt and pants suit with a wide silver belt. It’s strange seeing her out of uniform.

“Where’s Shan?” she asks.

“He’s in his room. Said he was tired.”

Grandma pauses as if she’s unsure what to say next. That surprises me. Grandma is one of those people who always has a take-charge attitude. I guess us being here is strange for her, too. This is the first time she’s been responsible for Shan and me on her own in years.

“How did you get away from headquarters to check on us?” I ask.

“When you get to be in my position, you can delegate tasks,” she says with a smile. I believe her. Since her transfer back to New Denver, she’s been promoted and is now third in command at the DTA’s military division. She only has two bosses: Brigadier General Rashida March, and the one at the very top, General Anderson.

“Besides, Anderson may be an ass most of the time, but I do have to admit that he has everything under control for now. He’s coordinated with the city’s civilian police and Space Benders from the Department of Teleportation to keep patrol units on the ground twenty-four hours a day. Let’s just hope the Purists realize all their protesting isn’t going to change anything, and knock it off.”

“I hope so,” I say, not feeling convinced. Purists have always been vocal about how much they dislike anything to do with genetic modifications, and their anger seems to increase each year. And now that the RCA has passed, it’ll only get worse.

Grandma rubs her temples, frowning. “You know what? I’m starving. Let’s get out of here.”

“Are you sure?” I ask. “There were a lot of police out patrolling this morning.”

“What are we going to do, hide in our homes all the time now? And besides, I’m dying for a burger.”

Thirty minutes later, we’re sitting at a booth in a replica 1950s-style diner a block from Grandma’s apartment building. This one has gone all out, with a black-and-white-checked floor, light blue walls, and red plastic booths and bar stools. Retro businesses from the twentieth century are popular all over the NAF now, since Time Bending missions have moved into that era.

The place is packed despite all the protests yesterday, but there aren’t many servers. It takes a while before a harried waitress dressed in a red skirt with a ridiculous poodle on it takes our order. “What will it be for you guys?” she asks.

“Three burgers and fries for us,” Grandma replies. “And make it the real stuff. I can’t abide by that synthetic crap.”

The waitress’s eyebrows shoot up. “That’ll cost you quite a few credits.”

An irritated expression flashes across Grandma’s face. “I assure you, I can pay for it. Now, can you please tell me what’s going on? We’ve been waiting nearly ten minutes just to order.”

“I’m sorry,” the woman replies, sounding a little out of breath. “Two of our servers didn’t show up this morning. Purists, of course.”

Grandma offers a slight smile to her. “Of course. I apologize. Hopefully things will get better soon.”

“Maybe so,” the woman replies, glancing toward the front of the store. Through the glass, we can see two police officers walking by. On the way here, we saw several more on patrol. But at least there were no Purists out starting crap with anyone. In fact, most people seemed content to go about their business as if nothing happened yesterday. I guess they have more faith in the government than I do.

Grandma puts on a too-bright smile as she turns her attention back to us. “So, what have you boys been learning at the Academy? Anything interesting?”

“Not much,” Shan mutters with a shrug. He goes back to gazing out the window next to us, staring at people passing by.

Grandma steeples her fingers. “Okay, I see. And how about you, Bridger? Have your studies been more exciting since your big promotion?”

I try to share what I’ve been up to lately, but I really wish I could get away with just zoning out like Shan. Besides, I can’t stop thinking about what happened to me yesterday, or the conversation between me, Shan, and Professor March.

After we eat, Grandma sends Shan up to the counter to order dessert even though we both insist that we’re not hungry. In fact, we both barely touched our burgers or fries. It’s hard to focus on eating when you keep wondering if you’re about to wild out again.

“What do you think is wrong with him?” I ask.

Grandma cocks her head and raises an eyebrow. “Bridger, I’m a little disappointed in you. It’s obvious. He’s depressed.”

“Why? What would he have to be depressed about?”

“Really?” Grandma asks, looking dumbstruck. “Yesterday was the anniversary of Leithan’s death and you don’t know why your brother is depressed? And I bet you didn’t know he’s on Calmer now. It happened a few weeks ago when Morgan was on a time trip, and the med center at the Academy contacted me for permission to start him on it. Apparently, he recently started having anxiety attacks.”

I feel like I’ve been dunked in ice water. It never occurred to me that Shan cared that much about Dad’s death. You know, mama’s boy and all that. He never really wanted to spend time with Dad, even when he was alive. But the fact that he’s displaying the same symptoms I went through last year is surprising. It’s just weird that he’s only now displaying them.

“Don’t look so shocked,” Grandma says. “I can tell something is bothering you too.”

“Why would you say that?” I say, feeling suddenly defensive.

“Bridger, you may not look much like Leithan, but you act just like him. I could always tell when something was bothering him, and you’re the same. Save us both the time and stop making excuses. I want the truth.”

My stomach churns. So Grandma’s no-nonsense attitude is back. I remember how Dad used to tell me that she always knew when he was up to something when he was younger. The question is, do I keep denying it, or just come clean?

From Grandma’s steely gaze, I figure it’s safest to just tell the truth. Or at least part of it. “Okay. So, yesterday when I got back to the Academy, I was scared just like everyone else. But after hearing that gunshot and running inside, I saw this girl. She looked almost exactly like Vika. You know, my girlfriend who died last year? And we had just come from a time trip with a major protest going on. So, I don’t know.” I pause and look down at my hands in my lap. I’ve clenched one into a fist and started rubbing it with the other hand. “I don’t want to lose control again. I can’t. I need to stay sane so I can join the military.”

“Just like Leithan.” Grandma checks to make sure that Shan isn’t coming back yet. He’s next in line to order. Then she leans closer to me. “I already knew about your episode. I shouldn’t tell you this, but I think I should under the circumstances. That girl wasn’t Vika. The girl you saw is a new student. She was kidnapped by her father when she was little and was raised by a lunatic Purist, completely isolated from modern society. The poor girl had to have her memories erased so she could even function. She’s at the Academy now because her instructors felt she was finally ready to be around more people her own age.”

I sit up straighter, trying to keep the surprise off my face. I remember hearing about a girl being kidnapped when I was little. I just didn’t realize she had been found. I guess that was around the same time I wilded out. “How do you know all of that?”

“Remember how I was just stationed at headquarters in Chicago? That’s where she was, too. I saw what that girl went through, Bridger. She had to relearn everything about living in modern society. It was a huge learning curve for her.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

Grandma gets a look on her face that almost looks like pity. “This girl may have an uncanny resemblance to Vika, but she is most definitely not the same person. She’s extremely fragile. Possibly a bit unstable. I really think it’s best that you stay away from her.”

“But why?” I ask. “We’re both going to be at the Academy. I’m sure I’ll have to talk to her at some point.”

“Just promise me that you won’t get involved with her,” Grandma says. “You don’t need to get wrapped up in the drama surrounding her life. You need to look out for yourself, especially if you’re serious about becoming a soldier.”

I want to ask Grandma more, but a loud voice booms through the already noisy diner.

“Furing freak. Your kind shouldn’t exist. You’re ruining the lives of decent, hardworking people!”

Grandma and I search for the source of the yelling, and when our eyes land on it, I’m horrified to see a middle-aged man with a receding hairline has cornered Shan near the counter. My brother’s back is pressed against the dessert case, and he’s pale and shaking. I wonder why the man is targeting him for a second before it hits me. Like me, Shan is still wearing his Academy uniform.

Grandma takes off. She gets up in the man’s face, pointing her finger and speaking in a low, stern voice. “If you know what’s good for you, you will get the hell out of here this instant and leave my grandson alone.”

“And what are you going to do about it,” the man sneers.

Holding up her wrist, Grandma activates her DataLink, pulling up her identification. “I’m Brigadier General Creed of the Department of Temporal Affairs. You will leave immediately or I will have your ass tossed in The Black Hole for so long that your family won’t even remember who you are when you get out. Hell, I may even have you Nulled.”

“You can’t do that,” the man says, looking uncertain.

“Try me,” Grandma says.

By now, everyone in the diner is now focused on the two of them. Shan is still as a stone at the counter. My heart is pounding. I want to do something to help, but I don’t know what.

Finally the man backs away. Pointing a shaking finger at Grandma, he says, “You’ll be sorry. All of you will. Jode Lincoln says he’s got something planned for all of you freaks. You just wait.”

The man pushes his way past other customers, grumbling the whole time. Once he leaves, everyone resumes what they were doing. Chatter gradually fills the diner again.

Grandma quickly pays the bill and leads us out of the diner. Shan leans against the window by the door, breathing hard. I stand next to him, feeling angry and powerless. I wish I had done something—anything other than sitting stunned, not doing a damn thing to help my brother.

“Who’s Jode Lincoln?” I ask.

“I have no idea,” Grandma replies. She places a hand on Shan’s shoulder. “Do you need some Calmer? I have some back at the apartment.”

He nods.

“Okay, let’s go get it.”

She ushers him away, and I start to follow, but I’m too agitated. I need to be by myself for a while. To clear my head. I don’t want to run and hide in Dad’s apartment just because some idiotic Purist tried to start something with Shan.

“Bridger, come on,” Grandma says, looking back at me.

“Can I stay out for a little while?” I ask.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she says, her eyes flicking back to Shan.

“Please. I really need to just be alone. I’ll go to the closest Green Zone. It’s only two blocks away. And you can track me,” I say, holding up my wrist so she can see that I’m wearing my DataLink. “Besides, police are everywhere. Nothing’s going to happen to me.”

She frowns, then lets out a heavy sigh. “Fine. But be home in an hour. You do not want me having to look for you today.”