CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

THE WARDEN

Cassie knew something had gone wrong when she opened her eyes.

She was standing in the middle of the Archives, the room around her torn apart with furious intensity. The safety deposit boxes had been ripped from the walls, the locks broken, the boxes opened and discarded on the floor. Their contents had been rifled through, but whatever the robbers had been looking for, it wasn’t White Tower’s documents. A much larger deposit box – almost a safe – had been broken into with some kind of heavy machinery, and was now conspicuously empty.

Her breath clouded in the frigid air. The vault door hung off its hinges, but beyond the light from the room itself, there was nothing but complete darkness – no floors or walls, just an endless black void that made her stomach churn.

Her knees shook dangerously and she sank down onto the concrete floor. She pushed aside bullet shells and deposit boxes, drawing her knees up under her chin. Tears poured down her cheeks, carving a track through the grease on her cheeks.

She let out a pained scream, low and raw. She tore at her own hair, pain searing across her scalp; loose strands came out, sticking to the blood and filth on her hands. She sobbed harder, letting her anger and grief consume her; she lashed out, grabbed discarded deposit boxes and hurled them against the wall. Documents and folders went flying in her rage, and she was screaming, sharp metal scraping her arms. Rivers of blood coursed along her arms, but she didn’t care, it didn’t matter – he betrayed me, betrayed us, HOW COULD HE DO THAT?

She grabbed another box and held it high over her head, her vision blurry and wet.

A strong hand wrapped around her wrist, freezing her in place.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t destroy government property.”

Cassie dropped the box and whirled around to see The First Timewalker, Warden of the Archives. Her mouth opened in shock. The Warden’s clothes were torn, his impeccable suit slashed apart. A bandage had been wrapped around his chest, the white cloth soaked through with red.

“Although,” he said, “I doubt you could manage to make things any worse.”

“You’re injured,” she said finally, her voice hoarse and broken.

The Warden glanced down at his chest. He had taken on the form of his younger self, just in his late twenties. He grimaced, and pressed one hand against the wound, turning the bandage a darker shade of crimson.

“We haven’t much time,” he said, his face contorting in a grimace. His words didn’t echo – they simply faded away into nothingness. She cast an uneasy glance toward the black expanse, her Affinity sparking as Temporal Energy formed and dissolved around her.

She drew a deep, shuddering breath. “Where are we?”

“Somewhere, in the middle of nowhere.” The Warden smiled, revealing a chipped tooth. He sat down on a chair that hadn’t been there a moment ago. “A space between spaces – a little pocket of the universe I can still control. This place can take any form you like. Perhaps this will be more comforting?”

The Warden waved his hand and the mysterious vault dissolved, reforming into the living room of Cassie’s family home in Pennsylvania. She was sitting on a sunshine-yellow couch, and the Warden was perched on a bone-colored stool; the entire room was exactly as she remembered it, down to the paisley curtains and gray carpet. Emotion swelled inside her chest, threatening to burst out, hundreds of memories flooding back – her parents, her childhood, her father’s warm embrace and her mother’s gentle touch.

That was all before. Before the Adjusters had entered her life, before the Bureau.

This was a moment in time, a snapshot of peace and serenity, never to be recaptured.

She leaned forward to touch the coffee table, but rather than solid timber, she felt cold metal.

It’s all an illusion.

“Why am I here?” she asked, fighting to control the tremor in her voice.

The First Timewalker observed her. “You have an important decision to make. A war is coming, Cassie. A war between two universes – and only one can survive. A war between an agency that claims to be protecting its citizens, and a rebel force that claims to be liberating its people. They cannot survive together.”

“I don’t want to fight,” she said, lowering her eyes. Her hair fell down over her face and she brushed it aside, her scalp still aching.

The Warden gave a choked cough. “You don’t have a choice. You must choose a side. I fear, however, that your decision has already been made for you.”

The house flickered, momentarily replaced with utter darkness. The house reformed again, this time missing its curtains. Through the window, there was nothing but the black void. The Warden pulled his hand away from the bandages, the material bloodied.

“The pocket is collapsing,” the Warden said, his hard eyes returning to Cassie. “You must listen to me, very closely. The Resistance and Zero no longer see eye-to-eye, and the resulting schism will add a third element to this struggle. My world, the world of ash and snow, is endangered, and your world will be caught in the crossfire, a new battleground. This conflict is inevitable, brokered by a vile creature who trades in nothing but death.”

“I don’t understand,” she gasped, shaking her head. “Resistance? What are you talking about?”

The First Timewalker leaned forward, his face turning white.

“You will understand in time,” he answered, his words hurried. “The future is divided between White Tower and the Resistance. The rebels once championed Zero, used him as their figurehead, but no longer. Zero has his own agenda, cloaked in robes of deceit and empty promises of power, guided by a corrupt image of his own making. He is dangerous, Cassie, and he must be stopped at any cost.”

The future. It seemed so impossible. The Adjusters are time-travelers. They had to come from somewhere – they came from the future. A world of ruin.

“Why are you telling me this?”

The Warden’s eyes softened, apologetic. “I believe he will use your family as leverage.”

Cassie jolted forward, her heart racing. “My family? What about my family?”

No, please no. Not my parents. Anyone but them.

“Your father is in danger,” the Warden said, and her heart broke. “Since your disappearance, he has been causing quite a stir in your hometown, asking questions that nobody is willing to answer.”

A painful knot settled somewhere in her throat. My dad. Trying to find me. Fresh tears welled up in her eyes. It had been weeks since the Bureau had taken her away from Hermitage. She couldn’t imagine what grief and distress her father had gone through, but she could picture him sitting on that sunshine-yellow couch, exactly where she was now. She could almost hear him begging, pleading with an unseen power to return his daughter, his only child.

“I have to help him!” She stood up, blood pounding furiously in her ears. She wanted to rush to her father’s side and protect him the same way he had tried to protect her from all the bad things in the world. How could Zero do this? Not my dad, please God, not my dad…

The Warden sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Not alone. I have taken the liberty of disrupting your teleportation, and your Bureau colleague too. There are no reinforcements, no allies left for you. You two are the best hope for finding your father and saving him from Zero’s wrath.”

She nodded, her heart hammering in her chest. My father is a good person. He doesn’t deserve this. It’s not his fault that I’m a Timewalker. He shouldn’t be used as a bartering chip in this secret war.

Aloud, she said, “I can do it. We can do it.”

The Warden stared at her, dark eyes moving behind his thin-framed glasses. He was looking older every second, and now she could almost see through him, patches of wallpaper appearing behind his body.

“I believe you,” the Warden said, frothy blood spilling over his lips. “Many millions of lives are at stake, Cassandra Wright. I hope you realize that, for all of our sakes.”

The ground tilted beneath her feet and she grabbed the couch, but the couch wasn’t there, and she was falling, down through the infinite void. She screamed without a voice, the air sucked out of her body. There was a lurching sensation in her gut, ripping her through time and space—

*     *     *

Forward Operating Base Chester was a hive of activity when the White Tower forces teleported back. They arrived outside of the base with an explosion of energy that rippled through the world, temporal anomalies flickering away like tiny shards of glass caught in the light.

Shaun observed the entire base for the first time.

To his right, the refugee camp marched away in neat, orderly rows of tents and makeshift mess halls, with more being constructed in the far distance. A consistent haze of dust curled up into the sky from trucks and workmen.

The main facility was on his left, clinging onto the edge of a towering cliff, the outside painted with mottled green-and-brown camouflage. One side of FOB Chester faced the flat plain and the refugee camp, while the other side looked down over the cliff and a thick pine forest that became blacker the further he peered into its depths.

He breathed again, this time tasting salt – the ocean.

“Where are we?” The entire compound was surrounded by dark-gray pylons, reminiscent of fence posts – except there was no chain between them. He could feel the force field though, an invisible barrier that rose overhead, protecting the base with an anti-Temporal dome of energy.

The shield let us through, he thought, observing the dome’s faint shimmer. Somehow it knows which Adjusters to keep out.

Hayden Miller squinted into the bright sunlight. “Rural Nova Scotia.”

“Canada?”

Miller shrugged. “It was less conspicuous than the United States. Besides, Zero has no interest with Canada – there was no Timewalker Program here.”

“Bet the Canadians are real happy about having you here,” he muttered. The group started toward the base, headed for a blastdoor in the cliff-side.

“They don’t know about the base,” Miller laughed. “Besides, you’re a difficult man to say no to. The other version of you, I mean.”

The blastdoor split apart vertically, allowing them into the cliff-side. The walls and ceiling glowed, provided a crisp but not overbearing light. The Adjusters walked together, serene and comfortable. Only when they were all together, like normal humans, did he realize that they weren’t so monstrous after all.

Another thought struck him, one that made his stomach churn.

“What am I like?” he asked, slowly, as though he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer. “In the future. Major Shaun Briars. He sounds important. I sound important.”

“You are important. You were a living legend in the Final War, and a great hero in the aftermath. You took control of White Tower, pieced together the crumbling remains of our government and brought something to the world that everyone had thought lost forever.”

“What was that?”

Miller’s voice was pained. “Hope.”

The older man directed Shaun down a corridor and through two more doors, his words filled with a powerful emotion. “You were, and still are, an influential leader. There are some that disagree with your leadership, fed poisonous lies by the rebels; but for millions of people, you are a symbol of mankind’s ability to endure adversity and return stronger than ever.”

Shaun swayed a little on the spot. He head was throbbing, and he felt nauseous.

“I’m not that man,” he murmured, shaking his head. He looked away, unable to meet Hayden’s eyes. They were the same eyes he had seen in his nightmares; only they had been glassy and lifeless, staring into his soul and judging him for letting a twelve-year-old boy die.

“I’m not a hero,” he said, his voice breaking. “I’m – just a screwup. I’ve messed everything up. You saw that, back there. The Bureau, it’s gone. I should have been there. I shouldn’t have left. They didn’t deserve that. Cassie—”

“She’ll be safe,” Miller said firmly. “My soldiers will take care of her. She won’t be a prisoner, but under our protection while Zero is still out there.”

“That doesn’t make it right! The person you claim I become, the person you want me to be – that’s not me! I’ve made mistakes—”

“And Major Briars made mistakes too,” Miller hissed. They were alone in the corridors, but he lowered his voice, his tone furious but hushed. “Listen to me, Shaun. I know you. I know who you are. We are friends in the future, colleagues and comrades. Whatever differences there are between our worlds, we are still the same people. You can’t escape fate.”

Shaun’s blood turned to ice. “Zero once said something very similar to me.”

Miller grimaced. “And who do you think told him? Shaun, whether you like it or not, one day you’ll have to accept responsibility for what your counterpart did. You can’t hide from his choices…you might have to make those decisions a second time around.”

“What do you mean?”

“If we don’t stop Zero,” Miller said, turning on-heel and leading Shaun further through the base, “he will eradicate the Bureau of Time – the only hope you have of protecting your world against his forces. He might not have much of an army left, but it’s enough.”

“Isn’t destroying the Bureau enough?” Shaun demanded. “What’s he trying to do?”

Miller stopped abruptly and turned around. “It doesn’t end with the Bureau. He was the first Adjuster to be sent to this universe. He thinks this place is an abomination, an affront to the laws of nature. He wants to destroy your world, one way or another – starting with Timewalkers and anyone linked to them.”

Miller resumed walking, passing through another blastdoor and into an armory.

Shaun let out an appreciative whistle as he entered the weapons room. Dozens of assault rifles and handguns hung from steel racks on the walls. Low benches ran around the room, laden with cartridges of ammunition that he didn’t recognize. He pulled a handgun from the wall and ejected the magazine – instead of bullets, it contained a single battery cell.

“These are the best military-grade weapons in the world,” Miller said, holding a shotgun with practiced ease. “Most of it is surplus from before the War, but White Tower manufacture a few of our own weapons. I even have gun especially for you, from the Prime universe.”

Miller crossed the room, approaching a locked safe. He punched in a six-digit code and the door swung back, revealing a six-shooter – not an old-fashioned piece from the Old West, but a top-of-the-line military variant, polished and gleaming silver.

“This was yours, in the Prime.” Miller retrieved the gun, holding it with an almost holy reverence. “The famous weapon that hunted the First Adjusters and sent nine of them to their graves. It was your – Major Briars’ – intention to destroy Zero with the same weapon, before he escaped to this world. Perhaps you can fulfill that wish, after all.”

Shaun took the gun, heavy and cold in his hand. The long barrel was smooth but the grip had been intricately carved with names and diagrams. The six-shooter was an unconventional top-break model, and when he flicked the cylinder down, he saw .45 rounds shining back at him. He clicked the chamber back into place, marveling at how the gun fit so smoothly into his hand, as though it was meant for him.

“That weapon saved your life, and mine, more times than I can count,” Miller told him. “It won’t let you down.”

Miller pointed out the gear they needed for the mission. Minutes later, Shaun was fully dressed in fresh clothes – black cargo pants and a tight-fitting shirt – with a heavy belt around his waist. The six-shooter sat holstered on his left thigh, with several speedloaders ready to reload the gun at a moment’s notice. He eschewed Kevlar in favor of maneuverability – he could always Timewalk his injuries.

The rest of the assault team gathered in the open room where Shaun had first met Miller. Forty Adjusters stood in rows, steel knives sheathed by their sides, their black jumpsuits fresh and neatly pressed. The white rook sat proudly on their shoulders, their faces and bodies identical like their clothing.

They were men and women, Shaun thought, his spine tingling. Soldiers who sacrificed their lives…their bodies…for what? For a broken promise that White Tower would turn back time and erase a war from history. And now they’re just fighting to survive, to preserve what little they have left of their own world – and to defend mine, too.

“Here, take this,” Miller said, handing him a small hexagonal device.

“What is it?” he asked, turning it over in his palm. There was an adhesive pad on the back of the device.

“Just put it on,” Miller said. “It’s a NeuroHex, designed for silent communications and neural enhancement. Adjusters struggle to talk – it’s very uncomfortable for them – so this will help.”

Shaun hesitated, then ripped the plastic cover off and pressed the device to his temple.

“I can’t feel anyth—”

A wave of Temporal Energy coursed through his body and he let out a startled gasp. Dozens of voices washed through his skull, like he was standing in the middle of a bustling New York street. Miller’s voice came through strongest, but his mouth was closed in a thin line.

“At attention!” his voice cracked through Shaun’s mind, and the chattering died down. The Adjusters shifted on the spot, turning their eyeless faces toward their leader. “I’ve gathered you all here for an emergency operation to defend the Bureau of Time’s last remaining facility, an intelligence outpost called Eaglepoint Station. Our Most Wanted, Zero, is en route to attack the base, and we must do everything in our power to defeat him.”

Shaun realized his mouth was hanging open, and he quickly closed it.

“You’ve all sacrificed a lot to defend your own world,” Miller continued, his mental voice somehow taking on a somber tone. “I realize I’m asking a lot for you to defend a world that isn’t your own.”

He hesitated, throwing a guilty look at Shaun, before facing the soldiers again.

“But this world,” he said, strengthening his mental voice, “is the only hope we have of evacuating our people, our loved ones, who are dying in the ruins of our universe. If this world falls, we fall with it. So we must fight, we must defend our future and our freedom! Will you fight?”

A resounding chorus of “YES SIR” blasted through Shaun’s mind with enough force to rattle his teeth.

“Form up!” Miller ordered the men. Aloud, “We’ll teleport to Rhode Island and take transport to Block Island. We can’t afford to alert Zero by arriving directly outside Eaglepoint.” Quieter, perhaps to himself rather than anybody else, “Let’s hope we get there in time.”

Shaun placed a hand on his six-shooter, the metal cool to touch. His stomach churned nervously, but he forced his fear down, replacing it with a single, burning desire – to fight, to survive, to triumph.

An image appeared in his mind, detailed and sharp as though he was actually seeing it right there in front of him. Zero kneeled on a concrete floor, his face bloodied and bruised, his mouth stretched into a wicked grin that revealed his teeth broken into jagged fragments. That image burned its way into the back of his eyes, haunting him all the way outside, every step forward another step closer to destroying that monster and eventually, somehow, finding Cassie and mending their broken relationship.

Of those two goals, Shaun knew which would the hardest – and it didn’t have anything to do with Zero.